#that or she would decide to join my efforts in the digging

[reality-tied]

Today's current mood:

Ignoring my problems while I pretend to be an archeologist digging for fossils as I clean my cat's litterbox. I'm living on borrowed time. Said cat is currently having the zoomies and screaming like something straight out of Jurassic Park as she runs rampant around the other room. It's only a matter of time before she finds me and decides that it would be entertaining to tip the whole thing over.

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

[hellsresidentfallenangel]

Familiar Faces

Summary: How would Adam and Lute react to seeing a Fallen Angel back in Heaven?

A/N: I know we technically already saw this when Charlie and Vaggie came up to Heaven but this time I want to do it with someone who may have meant a bit more to the both of them.

When Charlie first told you she wanted you to come to Heaven with her you outright laughed in her face. You, a known Fallen Angel, go to Heaven? The idea was just as laughable as it was dumb.

Then Charlie actually took you to Heaven. In the few seconds you thought it was wise to laugh at Vaggie's dismay of being pushed into the weird swirly portal, a tight hand had wrapped itself around your upper arm. With a harsh tug, you were suffering the same fate as Vaggie.

Just like you had many years ago, you were faced with the bright colours of Heaven.

Fortunately, you weren't left alone with Charlie and Vaggie for long as two of the Seraphims came to join you, leading you around Heaven. Of course, in these moments Charlie could hardly contain herself, ready to rush off to explore or point out something that you and Vaggie had seen countless times.

All in all, it was rather peaceful being back in Heaven. Seeing some of the old buildings or community areas that you had spent so many years in was almost refreshing; given the harsh contrast that Hell was compared to all this. You didn't outwardly express any of this though. Keeping your arms crossed or firmly placed on your hips.

But with Heaven's dwindled population, it wasn't hard to run into people you knew. So when the familiar colour pallet of gold, white, grey and black showed up in the corner of your vision, you couldn't help but try and nestle your way in between Charlie and Vaggie to try and slip past their vision.

Alas, your efforts were for nothing.

With a booming voice, Adam yelled to get your attention as well as everyone around you. What you would've done to be in Vaggie's place and simply ignored with nothing but else but a shifty side glance.

"If it isn't my favourite ex-angel!"

Even though all the attention was on you, you couldn't help but try and slip away from the limelight. With a quick hand though, you were pulled into Adam's side in a tight sidehug.

It would only be when you're tightly tapped at Adam's side, his nails digging into your arm while Lute flocked to your other side, staring over at you with a carefully blank expression that Adam would hiss into your ear. "Who let you back in here?"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Charlie would exclaim, her eyes widening slightly with a glimmer of hope residing in them as a plan to get Adam and Lute on the Hazbin Hotel's side came to mind.

It was only when she noticed your deadpan stare, the way Adam's hand may have been gripped a little too tightly around your arm and how Lute seemed to be itching to get closer that perhaps she might have misjudged the relationship you had with the two prior to your fall.

Sera would have to cast Adam a raised brow for the guy to release you, no amount of struggling or shoving on your part goading him to release you.

That wouldn't be the end of it though. Like any good 'friends' seeing someone who had been cast out of Heaven in favour of rotting in Hell, Adam and Lute decide that there is no better way to spend their afternoon other than to follow you, Vaggie and the Princess of Hell around as you attend to business.

On numerous occasions, Adam would try to tug you in one direction or the other, prepared to run off with you whenever everyone's back was either turned on you or was preoccupied with something for the moment.

Each time ended in small little scruffles as you tried to push yourself away from Adam, not above trying to fight the First Man on Holy ground even if it meant being shot out of the sky again.

If he wasn't trying to steal you away from the group, Adam was making loud jokes, sometimes making you the butt of the joke while other times it was someone else. Normally it would be Vaggie but it was more likely you who he was laughing at. Recapping your graceful fall from Heaven or any other blunders he could think of.

Lute wasn't much better on her part.

Unlike Adam, whenever one of the Seraphins looked back to check on what was happening or Charalie and Vaggie got ready to jump in, she would be stood patiently waiting for the tour to continue once Adam's antics were dealt with.

—Except that one time she was caught cheering Adam on as he tried smoothing your head into the ground.

It didn’t even matter if the Seraphins or your friends were looking, Lute decided to make your trip to Heaven just as bad as you’d thought it would be by walking too close for comfort, making comments about previous exterminations that you had taken part in, trying to reminisce on activities you had taken up when in Heaven to try and kill boredom.

That was something that Hell was surprisingly better than Heaven at. There was never a dull day. Even if there was it would only take you a short commute from your hotel room to find either Angel Dust or Alastor for your boredom to be banished, the both of them entertaining enough in their own ways.

By the end of the little tour Heaven was providing Charlie, you were prepared to scream.

Vaggie did nothing but spare you a pitiful glance. At some point further down the line than you, she had been in the same boat, though now she was just glad it wasn’t her that had to deal with the antics of Adam and Lute.

So putting on a brace face, you reminded yourself it was only for the day, maybe only a few more hours. Before you knew it you would be back at the hotel and hiding away in your room, reading to stay there for the rest of the day and only crawl out when an essential was needed.

When that time finally came you pushed past any of the sinners who tried to greet you with a flash of your middle finger as you vanished from their sights, all of them turning to Charlie and Vaggie to find out what had happened.

[lil-gae-disaster]

I mentioned an argument once. I think.

Uh, so here it is

Frederick was searching for a letter sent from his father, since he had misplaced it and yet had to reply to the letter. Writing letters during this war was... impractical, but it was better than not being in contact with his family at all.

Him and his lover, he had no idea how freeing and yet terrifying it is to think of his dear Jonathan as such before, placed their letters on one collective pile, since they had no need to keep their correspondences secret.

Frederick was digging a bit deeper when his eyes caught something. "My dearest Jonathan" in a Handwriting that was not his. Was that correspondence from someone who has deceased but his love hadn't completely let go of? But... it was dated in this year.

Peculiar. Frederick decided to read further.

Your father and I miss you greatly. When we recieved news that you had joined the war effort, I had a hard time believing that my dear Jonathan would do something like that. You have put so much effort into caring for yourself and me, as your to-be wife, to survive until the day our families are finally united for once!

I cannot transfer the love you so surely miss on this new world through this letter, but I can reassure you with this and my other letters that you have a lovely wife and family waiting in your childhood home for your return. Your father and I miss you, you know? I cannot doubt your abilities to return into my waiting arms, unlike your father who is sure that you will run again, "like a coward", he says.

I have trust in you my to-be husband that you will care enough to return to your one and only love.

With endless adoration,

Your Annabelle.

Frederick felt he couldn't breathe. Had his dear boy lied to him this whole time? Was their love real or was Jonathan just playing it as a ruse to replace him with this girl after the fight had ended?

He dug up more letters from this "Annabelle" girl- found the letter he initially was searching for in the process- and read through all of them. In every one of them she wished him well, wished he would return and talked about their future, and apparently second?, wedding arrangements as soon as Jonathan would return from the war back to his home.

Hadn't Jonathan promised to return to his father farm after the war had ceased? Was that also a lie? Frederick began to doubt everything Jonathan has said, up to that first confession that had started all of the turmoil Frederick went through during his time in the enemy camp. Was that a lie too?

But it had felt so sincere.

Frederick knew he couldn't just ignore his new findings. He chose to instead focus on his fathers letter, until Jonathan returned to the tent. It was pleasantly and unpleasantly quiet. Frederick was aware he wouldn't be able to handle noise at that moment, but he needed something to keep his thoughts from racing.

Around sundown, his lovely boy entered the tent, his eyes wandering around the tent until they spied Frederick. His whole body lit up and the blond man had issues to not get up and greet the man with a soft kiss. But those issues dissipated as soon as he recalled those letters...

"Frederick? My dear? Are you fine?" Jonathan asked with concern in his voice and on his face. Frederick started to doubt his conclusions, seeing as how sincere his Jonathan seemed to be. But he needed answers.

"I'm fine, dear. May you answer me a question, though?" He asked carefully, his fingers fidgeting with the letter he had written to his father. He would surely recieve a scolding that he should cease such nervous habits when he was fighting under the crown, he was a respectable man now, after all.

Upon Jonathans agreement Frederick met his lovers brown eyes with his deep blue ones, and then looked away. He couldn't be able to stand to see the guilt on his loves face, the realization that Frederick knew now, when he asked the question that had been slowly picking his mind apart.

"Who is Annabelle?" He asked with a more unsteady tone that he'd like to have had. He sounded to goddamn small, as if this was anyone but the one man he had entrusted everything with, but that man had apparently not seen it necessary to meet Frederick with that same trust.

The anger he had been expecting was beginning to come forth.

Jonathan was silent. Silent for long enough that Frederick knew. He now knew that he was nothing for a plaything for that man who he had given his heart and soul to. Frederick now knew that he would never matter as much to Jonathan as Jonathan mattered to him. Frederick wanted to grow old and die with this man, but Jonathan apparently viewed him only as a distraction from the loneliness since he had been seperated from his oh so lovely to-be wife.

Jonathan was still silent. The growing quiet between the lovers became too much for Frederick. "She's your to-be wife, is she not? She's the one you love, isn't she? Tell me, Jonathan, was anything you said true? Or was everything just a ruse under which you pretended me to be her? Tell me. Are you truly in love with me or just replacing my likeness with hers until you're reunited in her arms again? Was anything we shared real or just a game for you, Jonathan? Tell me!" He blew up on the other man, the anger finally taking root and spreading as he contined to talk.

Jonathan just looked dumbfounded at his lover, before it hit him. "You've read the letters." He stated. Before he could say anything, Frederick started talking again. "Yes, I have read them. I can't believe you would decieve me like that. I love you, and yet- yet you are about to be married as soon as you decide to leave this war! I cannot believe you, I cannot believe I trusted you when you obviously only used me because you were seperated from her!" Frederick got up and started to walk towards the exit.

"I cannot believe I trusted you with my heart." He told the younger man with his face away from said man and towards the tent walls. Jonathan awoke from his mind and reached to grab his lovers wrist. "Frederick-!" "Fassen sie mich nicht an!" The older hissed as he freed his wrist and walked from the tent, exiting before he would have to listen to how the man he loves actually never truly returned the sentiment.

Frederick came back deep into the night and fell down onto the empty cot where their tentmates used to sleep, before the cold claimed their souls. It was unbearable. He felt so alone, despite the man who normally could fix this issue sleeping just a little distance away, but Frederick cannot give in, he cannot pretend like everything was like before, because it wasn't. He now knew that Jonathan had just been playing cruelly with his naive mind and fooled him into loving him. This is something no amount of loneliness can fix.

The following day was also spent in excruciating loneliness. Frederick wanted to do nothing more than to run to Jonathan and apologize, but his hurt outweighed any loneliness he may feel. Jonathan didn't even try to deny the accusations, he just stood there guiltily as Frederick pieced together what he could have never imagined. That was worse than any loneliness he may ever feel.

Jonathan tried to reach Frederick, but the blond man avoided his (once?) lover. That was until Frederick got surprised by strong arms restraining him and pulling him towards their favorite privacy spot, the forest near camp. Frederick fought against it, but he couldn't do nothing against the blacksmiths obviously stronger muscles. Eventually, he surrendered until they stopped at the spot where Jonathan first uttered the confession of love they're so familiar with from one another.

Before Frederick could open his mouth to ask Jonathan why the fuck he dragged him away, a tanned hand was firmly placed on his lips, preventing any objection from escaping.

Naturally, the blond did the only logical thing to do in that situation. He first licked and then bit the hand.

Jonathan sighed, but didn't remove his hand. "Frederick, I want you to listen to me." He told his lovers firmly as he stepped forward. The blond man glared at him, although there was a small note of sadness and longing in his gaze. Neither of them wanted this petty argument to continue for longer than necessary. It was obvious that they needed each other to feel completely and fully at peace. And Jonathan would put an end to Fredericks stubbornness.

Jonathan breathed in and out and then started:

"I used to be engaged to Annabelle. Her and I were, in everyones eyes, the perfect example of a husband and a wife. She was a sweet girl, I am certain we could have been great friends, but I didn't love her. Couldn't love her. I never told this anyone, because I hadn't found it necessary. She is in the past." The brown haired man hesitantly removed the hand from his lovers face. "You can trust me, I have no intention of ever getting involved with her again" he reassured the other man.

Frederick frowned. "But.. why does she still send you letters? When you have no intention of marrying her, you should tell her and not give her false hope." He told his lover hesitantly, still processing the information given to him. Jonathan sighed and went to sit down on a fallen over tree. Frederick followed him.

"This will be quite a long story, but I believe we have the time. Her and I had been engaged years ago, but the night before the wedding, I had this moment of realization that I didn't love her. I did what I saw necessary and, instead of getting ready for a wedding I didn't want, wrote a letter explaining her the situation and apologizing for this sudden change of sentiment, before escaping. I had a connection to my mothers friend, who was ready to take me in and oversee my apprenticeship.

"And yet... a few weeks after my joining the army, they got a hold of me and Ms. Preston started to send me many letters, more than I could subtly burn after everyone else had left. It seems after the years, she still holds the belief that we are meant for each other despite my urging her to find a man that would be able to genuinely love her, like a husband should. I... cannot doubt that my father has his fingers in this misery..." he stopped for a bit to collect his thoughts. Frederick listened intently out of curiosity and shame that he immediately accused Jonathan of not loving him, when he does so clearly, in the way the man looks at him at every time their gazes meet.

Jonathan took Fredericks hand cautiously. He took a deep breath and looked into Fredericks eyes. "My dear, you can be assured that there is no one I would dare to love as much as I love you. You're the only man for me, the only one for me, believe me. I have never lied to you when I have told you how much I love and adore you." He told the man with all the care, desperation and love he could muster.

"I love you more than anything or anyone else on this earth and I want to give you all you may need or want, because you deserve this. You're a wonderful man who has went through so, so much. I want to take this pain from you, even if it's just for a minute. I'm sorry if I ever gave you room for doubt, my love" he continued, his free hand now on his lovers jaw. He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.

"I'm sorry for doubting you, I truly am. I just.. I was scared of the prospect of losing the one man who has shown me love to-" he got broken off by a sigh "to have played with my heart. I should have listened to you, but instead I just went further into this little hole of doubt and I'm truly sorry for that, dear." The man said with as much desperation in his voice as he could muster as his voice failed him and he just finally met Jonathans eyes. The hope for forgiveness was clear in Fredericks eyes, just as much as the regret and shame he was feeling for his actions.

Jonathan chuckled and stroked his dear boys cheek with his thumb. Frederick leaned into the movement almost by instinct. "I understand, my dear fool." The blacksmith told his lover, who truly was a fool, and squeezed his hand. "I also forgive you, my love" he whispered as he leaned closer. The remaining distance between them was excruciating for Frederick, so he closed it and reunited their lips like so often before, in the place where their involvement, no, their love started.

[ @hamalicious-soup @marsfingershurt @papers-pamphlet @paradox-complex @half-eaten-baguetteee @rae-unbeloved @imobsessedwiththeatre @almaprincess66 @cacaobeans ]

They're both pretty foolish 🥲

A foolish pair

This is also the reason Jonathan started referring to Freddie as "his dear fool"

Augh I love them so much ☹💖

I also tortured the discord chat with some snippets of this

[neverchecking]

More Sage Hc's

Because I miss him :(

And this is a wonderful half-collab with @angry-trashcan. I love you so very much and thank you for letting me yell ideas at you.

CW: Mentions of child abuse, child soldiers, Zelda slander, Sage

・❥・Welcome back. :)

・❥・So, we've established Sage as his own character at this point. I think it's safe to say he is not Wild. They are similar but two very distinct characters. That is something I'd like to clarify.

・❥・But we'll step into that later.

・❥・For now, let's talk about his entire timeline from start to finish.

・❥・So, Bailey and I talked about his parents and this is the conclusion we came to:

・❥・As everyone knows, Link in the AoC/BotW/TotK timeline was in the knights by a staggeringly young age. Either four or twelve or fourteen. I've seen them all, but I'm not sure if there's a canon age.

・❥・For Sage, we're going with four.

・❥・Now, let's start with his father. Sage's father was in the knights as a commanding officer, which is why he was okay with Link joining the knights. However, because of this a lot more expectations were placed on a very young Sage. And if he failed the punishments were much harsher and much less justified.

・❥・There were nights when Sage/Link was left on the ground outside because his father didn't deem him worth the effort and forbade people from helping him.

・❥・He'd walk past and spit on this terrified child because he didn't live up to expectations. "Your mother would've been so disappointed."

・❥・(shout out to Bailey for ripping out all of our hears with that line.

・❥・Because of this Sage finds much more comfort sleeping outside. Even a a century later, he prefers the comfort of a constant rather than a bedroom he was never allowed the privilege of knowing.

・❥・When he gets his house in Tarrey Town, he builds the stable extension first and slips outside with Epona.

・❥・We also agreed that his mother most likely died during the birth of his sister, which is probably why they had to move out of the Hateno house and closer to the castle, if not on the castle grounds.

・❥・If I had to make an assumption on his mother, she was probably a timid woman that never stood against his father.

・❥・This is really just my lil tidbit but because of that headcanon it's why I made Aaliyah such an abrasive character because I feel Sage would feel too much like his father with someone who reminded him of his mother. Or the little bits he remembers of her.

・❥・Anyway, his mother was probably a seen rather than heard woman,

・❥・Now, you're probably asking about his sister. We decided that she would've ended up as a maid/servant in the castle.

・❥・This is for two reasons:

・❥・One) It adds to hatred Sage has for the Royal Family. As a knight he would've had no choice but to watch this happen and would feel that burning guilt as a bystander, ignoring the fact that he has no choice in the matter. Maybe that's why he fought so hard pre-Calamity. Of course, he still fought because it was his duty, but I also like to imagine he was trying his best to protect his sister before it could ever hit her. Even if it was a fruitless endeavor.

・❥・Two) When Sage remembers this fact, it's probably before Tears of the Kingdom. The bridge between TotK and BotW probably is Link/Sage unravelling a lot of the trauma he tried to ignore regarding the royal family. So this is almost a catharsis to the entire feat. Moreso with Zelda/Natura's reaction.

・❥・She'd be flippant and almost ignorant to the entire ordeal.

・❥・Before anyone comes for my throat, let me explain Natura's character okay?

・❥・So, as far as I'm concerned, Natura hasn't learned anything. She's very much still the same character she was in AoC which is a spoiled individual with little regards to the woes others are facing. She had a tough time, yes I understand that and she was young, but she had no reason to act the way she did with Link. I don't care, argue with the wall.

・❥・She went digging around in the remains of what was left of her people post BotW trying to figure out how the guardians worked. She puts more emphasis on her studies and research rather than her people. Remember this is Natura. Not Zelda. This is my characterization in the same way that Sage is my characterization of Link.

・❥・Anyway, she didn't go looking for a way to solve the Gloom issue, she went looking for a way to capitalize on it. Like the pharmaceutical industry.

・❥・So you can imagine her reaction knowing that.

・❥・"We kept her off the streets like a worthless rat. You should be thanking me."

・❥・Yeah, it's not great.

・❥・So then TotK happens, yadda yada.

・❥・Sage loves animals. Let me get this straight. He's not heartless, he's angry and he's vengeful. Animals never wronged him. He finds comfort with animals as they can't lie to him. He can earn their trust and they'll remain loyal.

・❥・Because Sage is a dangerously loyal man. He still carries the loyalty of the hero's spirit, but it's amplified. Once you're his, you're his forever. Nothing can drag him away from you as he won't let it.

・❥・He's so loyal it turns from a positive attribute to a flaw. :)

・❥・He's possessive and protective and doesn't see an issue with it. Everything else has been torn from his hands but his fingers will be broken and bloody before he lets what's his go.

・❥・I bring up the animal thing just to say Sage gets a dog. You know that stable that closes down in the desert? And how all the stables have stable dogs? Well, this one follows Sage all over Hyrule. And if he goes in the depths thinking he's lost it, the second he's out the dog is sniffing his ass out.

・❥・Yes, he keeps the dog and feeds it the nicest cuts of meat, don't worry.

・❥・It's name is Droolius Caesar.

・❥・Timeline wise, let's talk about that.

・❥・So again, Bailey, and they're gorgeous fucking brain, brought up the idea of him being on a different timeline then Wild. I ran with it.

・❥・I don't see TotK falling on the timeline nicely no matter what we do. Not with the Zonai and not with the other game.

・❥・So what if it doesn't fall on the same timeline as BotW? The same events happen but now it's different.

・❥・Here's how it goes:

・❥・So when Time splits the timeline we get the normal one where, yay! he saves the day! and the other one where he doesn't. Call it the downfall timeline, the fallen timeline, the failure timeline, I don't care. For the sake of argument it's the Fallen Timeline here.

・❥・So there's an idea that the timelines merge somewhere between Wars timeline and Wild's. But let's say they don't. Because the Fallen timeline goes to Legend, then Hyrule. Then what if it doesn't fix itself and just continues. which is where it then leads to Sage's era.

・❥・Only this timeline is on hard mode at all times. Legend's adventures were difficult, Hyrule's era is absolutely brutal, so it makes sense that Sage's is just as hard.

・❥・We toyed with the idea that because this timeline is so hard, the heroes that reign from it are just that much more advanced. It's shown through Legend and then Hyrule, both of whom have wielded the full triforce at one point or another (I think). Somewhere between Hyrule's world however and Legend's, the goddess' didn't like this idea. They didn't like the idea of the hero having this sense of power, so they stripped it away entirely. They knew that somewhere the hero's spirit would be tainted and took away the power that could be used to dethrone them before it could manifest with Sage.

・❥・In turn, the hero's spirit carried on and grew stronger to overcome this. Sage still has the hero's spirit, but it's not like an actual spirit. No, it's more like the fallen hero carrying on and trying to amend for his sins.

・❥・Which Sage hates. He hates it so much, but it propels him before he can stop it. In the beginning of TotK? It's what propels him to jump in after Zelda. After however? The gloom is what finally kills that spirit. Rauru can save him, but fails to save the spirit.

・❥・And from there Sage evolves and arises into the rat we all know and love.

・❥・All of this to give my own lil headcanons on Epona.

・❥・So there's a theory that Malanya (Horse god) Is actually Malon and I like that. (Because she gave Link Epona OG and they sound similar) So in Sage's Era? Guess what?

・❥・Anyway, I imagine Malanya and Sage had a better connection because of this. Malanya goes out of their way to care for Sage and his horse because they feel they failed their Link.

・❥・So Sage gets an Epona in a way to apologize for their first failure.

・❥・Epona is a very good horse <3

・❥・So in the wise words of bailey to end this off,

The hero's spirit is dead. Long live whatever the fuck Sage is.

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Three and a Half

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Three and a Half

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger Warnings: Mermaids and fluff with a hint of angst.

Word Count: 1,509

A/N: I've decided to count this as it's own little mini-chapter because it's too long to be a blurb lol So we're going to call it Chapter Three and a Half! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist

The water was cool against Jake’s skin, the pleasant stillness of the ocean wrapping around him as he scoured the floor for the perfect items. A woven bag hung off his shoulder, floating up and away from his body as he moved through the water. The smaller fish darted away from him as he passed, the bigger ones eyeing him suspiciously. Jake paid them no mind, too focused on the task at hand.

He had already pried open several oysters to dig out the pearls that currently sat in his satchel, and he had even found a perfect conch that he was saving for a later time. He didn’t want to start off too showy in case you would find that distasteful. Besides, the thought of actually being able to hand you the conch shell put a smile on his face. No, for now he would settle for the pearls combined with the calico and whelk shells. He just hoped that he wasn’t veering too far in the opposite direction that he came off as not caring. Because he did. He cared a lot about what you thought.

Impressing and talking to girls had always come easy to Jake, but that was probably because he knew that he would more than likely end up with Mandy. Mandy wasn’t a horrible choice, quite the opposite in fact, but Jake always felt like there was something out there waiting for him. Now he knew why. Now he had another option. Now…now he felt the pressure most everyone else felt when it came to a significant other. He wanted things to be perfect for you, and now that he thought back to the shells in his satchel, he frowned.

He had gotten Mandy some shells once, back when they had first presented. He had wanted to make an effort for her, so sixteen year old Jake Seresin had spend hours at the bottom of the ocean floor picking out what he thought were the perfect gifts for his supposed betrothed.

But when he had handed them to Mandy, a proud smile on his face, she had laughed at him.

“Jake, be serious,” she had giggled, eyeing the shells in her hands. Jake’s smile had dropped, staring at her. “I’m not interested in stupid, old customs like this. If you’re going to get me something, get me something that matters.”

Jake had laughed it off at the time, but the sting of those words still hung over his head, and he paused on top of some coral as he thought about what it was he was doing.

What if you also thought the shells and pearls were stupid? What if you didn’t like them? What if you just threw them back into the sea?

What if you laughed at them?

Jake wasn’t sure he could take that kind of rejection from you. He was sure it would destroy him, in fact.

But then he thought back to how shyly you had looked at him when he had introduced himself to you, and he knew that you would never do that. Not to his face, anyway.

So he made his way towards the surface, looking for the shadow of the Floyd’s boat. He knew that’s where you’d be after the little confrontation with his friends earlier, and his temper flared at the thought of Bradley’s words.

“Figure your shit out with Mandy. If you don’t, then Skipper is fair game.”

He wasn’t sure how much his friend had meant those words. True mates were sacred, after all, but Bradley was as stubborn as they came. So Jake wasn’t too keen on taking any chances.

He spotted the silhouette of the boat rocking with the waves, and he quickly made his way towards it. He popped his head above the water, making sure to stay out of sight from the three people on board. Peering over the ledge at the back of the boat, he saw Walter and Bob engrossed in their fishing, and his eyes drifted down to where you lay on the wood of the deck, arms crossed beneath your head and one leg bent while the other stretched out. Jake stared at you, like he was under some kind of trance. You were beautiful, he knew that of course, but every time he saw you, it hit him just as hard as it did the first time. He hoped that a day never came where the breath wasn’t knocked out of him at the sight of you.

He took in the mark on your neck - his mark. It glimmered in the fading sunlight, a notice to all those that looked upon it that you were spoken for and that anyone who tried otherwise would have to deal with him. He could smell how your scent had changed since he placed it there. It was still sweet, a pleasant mix of sunshine and something floral, but now there was a hint of him added to it that gave it a certain spiceness. Jake practically purred at the thought of that change being permanent.

Your chest rose and fell softly as you basked in the summer sun, the beams beginning to lessen as it sank towards the horizon. You let out a contented hum in your sleep, mouth twitching up into a short-lived smile before evening out again. God, he wanted to hold you.

Jake smiled softly as you stirred from your nap, curling your other leg up as you stretched your arms out. He smiled softly at the way your own lips curled into a lazy smile, arching your back as you sat up. Ducking when you moved to stand, he could hear the sound of your conversations with Bob and Walter.

He knew he should be getting back to shore. He had made plans to meet with Mandy, to tell her that the future she had envisioned for the two of them would now only include her. He dreaded her reaction.

Jake heard footsteps approach the ledge, and he quickly moved around to the side of the boat, peeking around the corner as he saw you come into view. He watched as you stopped, spotting the gifts he had left for you, crouching down to get a better look. A smile twitched on his lips as he saw a spark of excitement alight in your eyes.

“Bob, come look at this!” You hollered over your shoulder, never taking your eyes off the shells you held in your hands. Jake felt a tinge of annoyance when you called for another man to come see the gifts that he had brought for you, and it only deepened as he watched the other man crouch down beside you. You held the shells out to Bob, and Jake almost saw red, but stopped at your next words.

“Aren’t these amazing?”

Pride swelled within him as he took in your excitement. It had been him. Him and no one else that had made you so happy. His cheeks started to ache from how hard he was smiling.

“These are some of the best specimens I’ve ever seen! And look at all of these pearls!”

Jake had taken a gamble at starting off with the less impressive finds, and his fingers itched at the prospect of seeing your reaction to the grander gifts he had already collected.

You stretched your hand out to show Bob the pearls you held in your hand, and the bespectacled man peered down at them with a frown.

“These are beautiful, aren’t they?” You all but whispered, staring at the orbs with a twinkle in your eye, a smile dancing on your lips.

Jake ducked under the surface, knowing that if he didn’t leave then, that he would risk exposing himself. He would when the time was right, but Jake knew that he was in a precarious situation.

You weren’t from North Island, and you had no idea that creatures like him even existed. The shock would be too much right now. No, he and the others would have to ease you into the idea of it all first, or risk scaring you off. He couldn’t bank on the bond keeping you there with him if he revealed the truth to you now, and the thought of you rejecting him? Seeing him as a monster? No, he couldn’t afford to think about that.

Instead, he thought about how you smiled at his gifts, cradling them so gently in your small hands. Yeah, his cheeks were definitely aching with how hard he was smiling. A song burst from his lips, echoing far and wide, one he was sure would be heard by almost everyone. He didn’t care, though. He didn’t care that he was about to go and endure Mandy’s wrath. He didn’t care that you hadn’t fully accepted him yet. He didn’t care about any of it. For the first time in a long time, Jake felt true happiness.

He wanted to hold onto the feeling for the rest of his life.

[utilitycaster]

do you really think the reason Imogen doesnt get as much meta as Caleb (who got every little detail discussed with thousands of notes!) is because people are afraid of a reaction, when its so obviously sexism?

The same reason she doesn't get the exact number of notes as Caleb? No. There's multiple reasons. I'm sure some is misogyny. Some is probably audience size for the respective campaigns, and some is simply accumulation over time - a post about Caleb from 2019 has had 5 years to gather notes.

But also. Are you fucking stupid. You literally showed up because of my tags to be kind of a dick in my inbox. I and multiple people who committed the grave sin of *checks notes* interacting with me were sent hate messages for hours on a Saturday night because I hinted in the tags that I kind of liked Fearne and Ashton as a ship while not being terribly into Imogen and Laudna, and some absolutely deranged loser decided this was an appropriate response. I was called out by someone who had made a blog specifically to block me when I responded to a reblog from someone else on a post I had made stating that Gelvaan was almost certainly not homophobic in canon and that treating Imogen's psychic powers as a metaphor for queerness has a lot of really unfortunate implications. And this hasn't even touched on that one person whose entire raison d'etre appears to be harassing every single person who doesn't think Imogen, Laudna, and their relationship is perfect; and who specifically made multiple alts to harass me. Like, the "It's Obviously Misogyny" people are genuinely putting more effort into being a dick to me than in writing meta about Imogen. You might be one of them.

I talk to many of my mutuals, some of whom really like Imogen, and yes, people do decide "you know, this could be interpreted by someone as too critical, and I don't feel like dealing with the heat" and keep that meta to the DMs or don't share it at all.

You know that post that Matt liked on Twitter that people have been, let's not mince words, jacking themselves off about ever since? If you actually try to say something with substance and evidence about how Imogen has Liliana's fear (the fear that meant that when Imogen begged her mother to leave the Vanguard, Liliana turned her own daughter down, claiming to need to stay with other children) or Delilah's love (which made her cruel, ruthless, and ultimately all-but doomed her) or Ludinus's desire for power (led him to commit endless atrocities) but resists these things in her desire to be a good person - and frankly, I think painting her with the same brush as Delilah or Ludinus isn't even true but I would love to dig into her similarities to Liliana - some asshole who smugly reblogs that post every time someone says "not to be controversial I think Imogen sometimes says things that could maybe be hurtful to other people I think" will throw a full temper tantrum and might send them an incoherent anon calling them a little hypocrite.

It's also fascinating because a lot of the tantrum-havers who will defend Imogen of even the most anodyne "perhaps this is not the most positive trait" and who will cite harassment Marisha received 7 years ago as a reason to not breathe a word of criticism about Laudna - and many of these people joined the fandom about 2 years ago if not sooner - will do this at the very people who have been supporting Keyleth since Campaign 1 was still airing. I mean, seniority doesn't mean anything but if you're lecturing people about something you weren't there for and they were? Clown behavior. Oh and a lot of those people doing the lecturing? Don't really like Keyleth very much, because she does things like "be angry" and "support Orym" and "have a measured viewpoint that doesn't match theirs" and "pretty clearly, along with Allura, who they also barely ever talk about, is directing Bells Hells along a specific path of that pesky moon plot because contrary to a weirdly widespread belief this is the moon plot campaign and not the baking cookies in a cottage campaign."

I mean, half these people forget about Fearne much of the time. The only NPCs I see many of them even talk about are the Vanguard generals and occasionally Abbadina when she's convenient for an argument. Not a damn word for Orlana or Birdie or Dancer or Weva or Rashinna, and they mostly treated Deanna, Prism, and Deni$e as nothing more than implements to shove Imogen and Laudna together but man do they have mountains to say about Bor'Dor. Hell, go to the blog of someone who whines about the way people treat Imogen and look through their meta, if they have it, and the vast majority of the time it's about Ashton and Orym and Ludinus and then they spend the rest of the time complaining about how The Big Mean Fandom is So Mean to Girls but they sure don't have much to say either because turns out if you can't say anything even remotely critical of a female character, it's really hard to write anything, and that's assuming they actually care about writing about female characters instead of just being an asshole, which as stated above is, in my mind, in doubt.

If you have ever spent a single second harassing actual living women online because you didn't like their thoughts on a pretend woman you are, at least in this specific scenario, easily the shittier person. Personally I am confident in my feminist bona fides through, you know, real world activism and how I interact with and support women and feminist causes socially, professionally, financially, and politically in my actual life, but yeah even I sometimes say "you know, I have thoughts about this thing regarding Imogen...but I've had a rough week and I don't feel like having one of the fandom tar pits on my ass" so I'll send my thoughts to a few friends and then idk, write about something else. And I'm pretty thick-skinned (this is the other problem with this strategy; you filter out the more measured and kind and sensitive people first and you're left only with people like me). A lot of people have flat-out given up writing about Imogen (or Laudna, much of the time) because they don't feel like dealing with backlash over some really mild statements. And because you send kind of dickish anons I suspect that it's more likely that you might be part of the problem than part of the solution. So no, it's not the only reason, but it's absolutely a significant one. Congratulations. You played yourself.

[missstratford]

Apricity

Chapter 4

A/n: new chapter is finally here!!!! Lmk if you want to be part of my permanent draco or harry Potter fandom taglist, or just the Apricity taglist. Have fun loves❣️❣️💞💞

Taglist:

@ssnapsaurus

@mafeperspective

”Stupid. Stupid. Stupid" You mumbled to yourself as you stood feeling all jittery in front of the dungeon. There you were having, not willing, had to accept Malfoy's 'request' to appear for the students meet. The entire request had been confusing from start to finish, honestly what was one's girlfriend to do at a students meet. "Let's get it over with." You squared up your shoulders and spoke the password, the passage giving way to the common room.

It took all your might to not chug the nearest cup of firewhisky at you 'boyfriend' once you realised this was most certainly not a student's meet. Malfoy's eyes latched on to yours as you marched towards him. "Quite the meet don't you agree? And I'm aptly dressed too." You asked icily, pointing at your dress that was more formal. "Not now Y/n" He clenched his jaw, grabbing your wrist bringing you with him.

"This is her? You were right Draco, she is rather pretty." Pansy grinned as she joined the two of you. "Where is Blaise? " Malfoy's tone sounded bored as he scanned the room for his friend. "It's my birthday, the least you could do is pretend you care." Pansy pressed on seemingly hurt. "Right. I'll be back." He squeezed your arm once before heading towards who you believed was Blaise.

To say you felt out of place would be an understatement. Your supposed boyfriend had ditched and left to Merlin knows where, leaving you with this complete stranger of a girl. "You're Y/n right? Draco's told me all about you." She gently smiled, directing you to a slightly secluded corner. "It's endearing how the two of you began dating." She continued on. "Oh?" You replied, not knowing how else to respond. "Yes. He said the two of met at one of the Malfoy balls. And you were quite smitten with each other." She said looking over at you. "Draco told you that?" You bluttered in shock. "Is it not true?" She asked frowning. "Well, um you see, I remember it differently." You stammered trying to find the right words. "It was Draco actually who approached me and, we spent a good while getting to know each other before we decided to be together." You looked towards where he stood, relaxed and calm, unlike when he's with you. "I'm sorry I didn't bring you a present, he never told me it was your birthday." You smiled apologetically. "Oh don't bother! Just have a good time. I have put quite some effort into organizing this after all." She said pointing at the chaotic common room with students either drunk or caught in a duel with one another. "Draco is a handful I warn you." She added finally. "Has he always been like this?" You asked, genuine curiosity seeping through your voice. "Not at all. When we were younger, he was different. He would laugh freely, live fully, grin and joke more." "Are you sure we are talking about the same person?" You laughed, "but what changed?" "I'd rather have him answer that." Pansy sighed and left you surrounded by loud raucous and sparks flying from wands.

☆*»»»«««*☆

You walked down the deserted hallway near the dungeon, the party having suffocated you. "L/n” you heard your name being called by the one person you were sick off. "Why did you leave?" Malfoy caught up with you quickly. "Geez, take a guess Malfoy." You bit back not sparing him a look. "I was busy." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did that a lot when he was frustrated, you distantly noted. "You shouldn't have invited me then. Would have saved this dress for another occasion." You looked down at your dress, put together in a last minute of hurry, your heels digging into your feet. "Wait, you look" Draco grabbed your arm, making you stumble into him, "envoûtante" He mumbled, your breath mingling. "That's sound German for something rude." You said quietly as you looked at him, remembering that night at the alcove. Your brain finally registered his appearance, he wore something that was rather refined for a friend's party. A tailored black suit enhanced by his silver tie flattered his personality. "It's French" He said, moving his face closer to yours. You froze, heart beating slightly faster, before pulling away in panic. "Um it's oh-" You realised your necklace was caught on to one of his buttons. "Don't move." He instructed as he tugged on it, trying to release it. "No, you'll break it." You interfered, trying to untangle his fingers. "Y/n stop, I'm trying to help." He pulled you closer holding your waist as his other hand gently removed the jewelry from his suit, letting it fall back to your neck. "There, looks alright now." He awkwardly backtracked. "Thank you." He said suddenly as you made to leave. "For?” you asked confused. "For today." "But you weren't even with me tonight." You scoffed. "Your presence was enough to me" And with that he turned his back and walked away, the chilly midnight breeze your company in the solitude.

[pyromania2667]

Outcasted Prodigy

So, I might write a book, this chapter is focused on my OC, Russel. He's a good boi ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up this morning, like any other, the sun had just begun to seep through the curtains as I pull away the comforter, stretching my limbs as far as I can take them before I climb out of bed. It is Sunday today, Jasmine said I could join her for mass if I wanted to, but… Mass hasn’t quite caught onto me yet, it is nice to hear the choir sing, maybe I will go today. Show her my appreciation for everything she’s done.

My paws hit the floor as my tail drags behind me, to which I pull it out from the bed. Setting it back up isn’t easy if I leave it in the way… I pull up the lint roller, making sure to catch any stray bits of fur I may have left inside, running it around anything I can see as the white hairs clutter up the sticky sheet. Another day, another morning in my routine. Twenty one now… Jasmine says I’m almost ready to graduate from her tutelage…

I rip out the tape and toss it into the bin before walking to my dresser. So much to wear… If I were to go to church should I…

No, gloves first. Always. Top drawer. Can’t go without them, I don’t want people looking at my mitts.

Okay… Maybe some jewelry? Those cuffs look nice, but what would go with the rest of my outfit? I haven’t decided on what to wear, but I like thinking about accessories first… My eyes finally meander toward the pair of gems at the top of my drawer. I haven’t looked at them in a bit, it was only a few weeks ago, my birthday… I remember talking to Jasmine about my life before she took me in… My mother and father never showed me the love she did, but to some degree, I still appreciate them for putting in a bit of effort… even with having too many brothers and sisters to name.

The rocks clink and clang together in my palm… a clear crystal and an orange jasper… That was their name… Crystal and her Jasper… I wonder if such a name is a coincidence or not… Goodness… growing up sure was… trouble… A part of me wonders where I’d be if I just stayed-

            Knock Knock Knock

I jump as my ears perk up to the ceiling. “Gah!”

Jasmine opens the door to my room, and for a moment, I’m blinded as a surge of light blasts itself into my room, “Oh, Russel! Sorry! I was worried breakfast would get cold and you weren’t replying. I wanted to make sure you’re alright! Are you hurt?”

I take a deep breath, collecting myself as Jasmine stands at the doorway, her face shrouded in a small curtain of shadow from the light behind her, making her tan features seem darker than usual. Maybe I’m just not used to being blinded so early… “Yeah… I’m fine, thanks mom… Just… thinking…”

“Goodness, Russel,” she interjected. “Could you do your thinking with the curtains open? It’s so dark! You may be my little mouse, but I still want you to get your sunlight, it will do you no harm, I promise.”

“Yeah, sorry, Mom… I just… well…”

She finally looks at the rocks in my hand, I still haven’t let go of them, yet they’re starting to dig into my gloves with how much I’m clutching onto them now. I ease up my grasp a little…

I could see her head tilt a bit, as if she were about to frown, as she would every time her head tilts that way, “Oh, thinking about your parents before you came here?”

“A little bit…”

I could see her gaze lighten up as she gave me her usual smile, the smile that made me feel warm and calm inside, “You know, I still remember your face and your adorable little whiskers when I first found you on the streets, Russel.” She walked toward the curtains to open them for me, letting in another fresh source of light.

“You do? Gosh, that was… just over ten years ago now?”

“Yeah… And here you are… an adult now… A mouse who defied all odds in a world of humans and the like.” She sat on my bed, gesturing for me to join her. “It feels like only yesterday I was wiping your tears from your face because none of the other students would be your friend…”

I shook my head slightly, snickering a bit as I took a space next to her, “Yeah… I still remember what Annalise called me… White Weasel… How that name stuck with me for the next few years…”

“I did everything I could for you, you know, Russel… I couldn’t take them out of school just for you, I could only move you to the other side of class…”

“I still remember what you said, ‘To overcome adversity is often the greatest feat of them all.’”

She leaned closer, resting her head on my shoulder, “It wasn’t just about learning magic, Russel, it was being able to deal with these tensions that can make you powerful. I was-”

I chimed in, speaking in unison to repeat the same saying she’s stated a hundred times, “just like you.” I chortled with her, “Yes, I remember, you’d tell me that every day… and deep down, I knew you meant it, it just didn’t make me feel any better at the time.”

“Do you remember that day I found you?”

“How could I forget?”

~ * ~

I was walking to the library like any other, a grown woman with a job as strenuous as mine has to keep her studies in order. I worked myself up from nothing, riding on scholarships and promises to the world above in this kingdom, and a part of me still feels that being idle will damn me to fail, so I am always looking for some time to study and better not only myself, but how I teach others as well.

The sun was starting to dim when a glint caught my eye, within the sewer grate beneath my heel, I thought the refraction of light was perhaps an ornament someone dropped, mayhaps a ring? It was when I loomed closer that I saw a pair of eyes, but the reflection of light was so intense, I knew it was no human, but an animal. I almost backed away, but this creature seemed fixated on me, not with feral unintelligence, but a human-like curiosity.

It was at that moment, I sensed it. The king hired me as one of his Arcanosophists, a gift few people have, an extrasensory capability that allows me to peer deep into the being of another, and I saw… magic… brimming… full of so much potential… buried within. A person without my cryptaesthesia would have moved on, but not me, this was a calling, a task, something new, something not only I can learn from and improve from in many ways. At the same time, it wasn’t just a being brimming with potential, but someone who needed my help, even without the magic, I would have to have done something. No sentient creature deserves to live in filth and poverty.

Pulling the grate up was a breeze as I helped this creature up, and he seemed to follow along nicely. White fur, a long, slightly prehensile tail, big, round ears. He was a mouse, over a foot shorter than me, still in a juvenile age.

~~~~~

“Do you remember that day like I do?

I shook my head, “It was a blur, I hadn’t properly eaten in days.”

“I could tell, perhaps part of that delirium from starvation is what led you to be so clingy to me.”

~~~~~

I took him home, set up running water and bathed him. You didn’t fuss, flinch or even resist, which made it easier for me. I must have drained the bath at least five times. The dirt took a tremendous effort to wash off, but in the end, I clothed you, and you seemed… Proper. Much better than the matted shawl you wore.

Okay, he is a mouse, but there are many open-minded people, right? Though… I haven’t seen any anthropomorphic creatures around before… Celestials at most, but they look almost identical to other humans… The ones that come here, anyway.

I can worry about this later, but now, I must feed you.

“What is your name, little one?”

He was so shy… submissive… a sign of neglect, perhaps?

“… Russel.”

“Well, Russel, I am Jasmine, the pleasure is mine. Now, what would you like to eat for dinner?” I could see his whiskers twitch, his tail swaying as his ears flicked a bit, he was utterly still and silent.

“I’ll fix you up something nice, an old family recipe. How do Latkes sound?”

He didn’t respond, and I didn’t expect him to. I seated him and he sat quietly in silence, running his hands through his new set of clothes. Once it was ready, he devoured everything up, and that’s okay, I’ll have to teach him manners later, it’s only his first day, presumably.

I tucked him into bed, but before I could go, he took hold of my hands, I could see the desperation in his eyes, he needed me. I felt something I had truly never felt before, an overwhelming sense of maternal duty, you are my child, I saw it truly, my precious baby.

~~~~~

“You sang me that lullaby… I will never forget it.”

“Would you like me to sing it to you again?

“In a bit… Please continue your story.”

~~~~~

First, I had to teach him about how to act, only then I could take him to class to properly learn and work with his magic. Strangely enough, he didn’t realize he was using magic already. I think that’s how he read, because most children who are new to reading would move their lips and mouth each word, but Russel gazed at it intently, his eyes sparkling with glints of arcane motes… It had to have been a magic reading, allowing him to absorb the contents. If it works, it works, he has his ways, I never thought someone would have to rely on magic to be literate.

He learned so quickly, and eventually, I could take him to class.

“Don’t be nervous, everyone has to start somewhere, Russel.” He was still so clingy…

I noticed the students calling him names, but… what could I do? These were all children from royal families, and I was one foul word from their parents from being sent to the gallows. I couldn’t tell Russel that, I only hoped that this adversity would make Russel stronger.

There was a part of me where I had to come to terms with who I was, I was new to this aspect of maternity… but was I a teacher first… or Russel’s mother? Should a mother risk dying for her son?

~~~~~

“I never knew how difficult things were for you. I just remember crying all the time.”

“I was still learning myself, you taught me so much, too, Russel. If I could turn back time, I would have done things differently.”

“It’s okay, I am thankful for everything you’ve done for me, mother.” I pulled her in for a hug as she leaned her head against me gently before continuing.

~~~~~

Each night, I’d hold him tighter, reassuring him over everything. I knew things would get better somehow; I hoped the children would get bored of mocking him for being inhuman. I wanted to do more, I was thinking of what I could do, but I was trapped under the burden of two duties, I almost crumbled, but I couldn’t let him see that, so at night, I wanted to distract him from the pressure I felt. The lullaby was the only thing that came to mind, and I started singing it to him every night.

~~~~~ “You are good at masking your troubles… I’m sorry I wasn’t helping.”

“Don’t be, you were just a child, how could you know?

~~~~~

You had so much potential, you were my outcasted prodigy, cast away from home, given disdain from his peers, yet you still managed to come to class each day, even if I had to carry you there once or twice, I could see acceptance within you, a burning passion to learn, still.

I knew how quickly you picked up on new subjects, grasping onto your talent of magic so swiftly, so I’d purposefully end lectures early to allow class to demonstrate. As I expected each time, you were the only one who could grasp it in that time, you excelled in every way. Perhaps it’d finally get your peers to look up to you.

Slowly, but surely, it worked. First, envy, I saw it coming, a child who couldn’t use their toy would get upset first, but they’d have to figure out they must earn it, as this is a toy I cannot give to them, but something they make themselves.

~ * ~

Jasmine pulled her head up from my shoulder, brushing away her locks from her face as she sat up, “You children grow up so fast…” I could see her wipe a tear from her face, I almost wanted to cry, too.

“That’s just the unlearned part of chronomancy…”

She giggled slightly, “You were always my brightest pupil, but I still remember a few days you told me you wanted to go home, and a part of that did hurt me.”

“A part of me was still so young and trying to adjust, I guess I wanted the familiarness of being neglected rather than being the center of attention all the time, but this is my home, it has been since the moment you took me in that night. I sometimes wonder how my birth parents are doing, but I wouldn’t give you up as a mother ever.”

~ * ~

I was ten years old when she took me in. Bathed me, clothed me. Before that, there I was, reading the books tossed into the gutters, barely aware of the magic inside of me. I’m still not wholly sure if in that moment, she took me in out of pity or for her knack of seeing even the slightest hint of potential within any being. She asked me who I was, I told her. There was this stillness between us, as if I knew I should be with her, and she knew that I had to be taken in with her care, out of the muck.

She asked me what I wanted to eat, but I wasn’t used to asking for food, I’d just take what I could come by, I didn’t know what to say. When I get nervous, I can feel parts of my body twitching, it starts in my ears, then my whiskers then my tail starts to shake. She took off, getting to work on making me a meal.

I smelled it as it was getting prepared. My mouth had never watered that much in my life, seeing a bevy of food forming before me.

“I made latkes, hope you enjoy!”

I dug in without a word, scooping it up with my fingers. The heat singed my hands a bit, but I didn’t care, all I needed was that salty, starchy goodness within me. I heard her sigh something, my ears perking at the noise, but it didn’t matter to me, and in moments, I was finished.

She tapped her finger on her chin, stifling a chuckle, “Typically, latkes are acquainted with sour cream or applesauce, but I suppose I can save these for later, though.”

After dinner was finished, she cleaned me off with a sterile rag before I was tucked tightly into bed, draped in a lavish set of covers in a bed far too large for my tiny body. She tousled my hair before getting ready to take her leave, but before she could, I don’t know what came over me, I took her by the wrists, not wanting her to go. That was the first time I made a legitimate attempt to reach out to her, not out of desperation, but want, a want to have a mother. I have never been cared for so much in my life, I couldn’t let it go, could I?

She smiled at me; the same earnest smile she’s always had that never seems to fade. She sang me a lullaby until I fell asleep.

~~~~~

“Daily and nightly, sunlight to nightfall, passing sands of time.

Let the clock unwind, twisting gears, and you’ll be just fine.

In your thoughts, let warmth cradle you, far from all harm.

Memories, like a dream, shall wash your tears away.

Like a star in the night sky, darkness can’t come to spite.

Until dawn, cast away your old thoughts, reclaim your light.

            Rest my child, stay in my heart beneath my canopy, in our world.

            Even if we’re worlds apart, we’ll build a bridge from our love.

I’ll always be by your side, remember me by this rhyme.”

Now I am tearing up… “I’ll never forget that little lullaby.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder, the loose, flowing sleeves of her robes draping over my arms.

I sat for a moment, closing my eyes as she held me. I love the warmth of her aura, it’s… magical… as cheesy as that is.

~~~

On the next day, she helped dress me, the fabric was so silky, it felt good against my fur, even if it was a little too big and the sleeves went past my hands… I couldn’t help but grin in excitement, running around with the floppy fabric around me. I was special, I was loved, I was in this whole new world, an entirely different reality filled with fresh, clean light and magic all around myself. I kept clinging onto Jasmine, I was practically attached to her leg, and she’d lean down to pet me each time. Even as she made breakfast, I wouldn’t let go of her, I never wanted to part from her.

Soon, breakfast was ready, and my mouth was watering again, seeing a bevy of food before me, but she lifted up my chin to stop the drooling.

“A gentleman does not let his jaw hang agape, Russel. This is the start on your manners.”

I clung onto her tighter, leaning into her palm as she closed my mouth for me.

“While I am your mother, and I love you dearly, some people do have personal space, which means they do not like to be touched as much or have you stay too close to them. Of course, I don’t mind, my child.”

She spent the next few days teaching me manners, before then, I didn’t even know what a fork was, and now I know how to properly use my dinner, salad, fish and dessert fork. She was beaming with pride at how quickly I learned, telling me I have a bigger surprise to come soon, now that I’m ready.

It was the next morning when I woke up to Jasmine opening the door to my room, shifting away the curtains to let in all the morning light fill the room.

“Good morning, Russel! You have a big day ahead of you, are you ready for your first day of school?” I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is this the surprise? “What’s that?”

“Russel, I am what many would call a savant, a cryptesthetic, or, by title of the King, his Arcanosophist. I can tell when some people have the spark of magic within them, and you, by far, are one of the most promising people I’ve ever seen. I will be your teacher as well. Do not fret, you won’t have to spend any time away from me if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It hardly felt like I had any say in the matter then as she snapped her fingers, causing a pile of new clothes to fall onto the bed, the force nearly launching me out from beneath the covers as I fell back onto my pillow.

“I have to get you dressed, my child. It’s your first day, impressions matter! Mouse or no mouse, I want you looking the best you can.”

“Mouse?”

“That’s what you are, Russel, a big, cute mouse. While I am a human, that doesn’t mean you are any less my son, and I’ll have it officiated by the kingdom within a week.”

“What’s a mouse?”

“You, you are a mouse. Hmm, I’ve got to get you more books to read later… Over more than just our magic studies…” She ushered me out of the bed as she conjured a ruler within her palms, measuring me up. “Four foot… one inch… How old are you?”

 It was hard putting my thoughts to words… “Ten years, I think… but-”

She knelt down to me before I could finish, wrapping me in her arms before looking me directly in the eyes, “Russel… Every time I look at you, I can see a part of myself, confused, lost, unsure of what’s happening, but I can see you, truly. You are destined for greatness, know this. I know you have so many questions, and I will do my best to answer them all for you as I can. Learning is a long, lengthy process. I know you can handle this, trust me. Now, let’s get you dressed before breakfast, alright?”

She dressed me up in tweed until she deemed it fashionable, then took me out of my room. Food was ready, but I was prepared. No drooling. No running. Feet on the floor, elbows off the table, napkin in lap, sit up straight and with dignity.

After breakfast, she walked me through the corridors, guiding me to the classroom on the other wing of our home. Getting me seated, she combed my fur, we still had time before the others came, and as we waited, she held up her hand.

“Russel, I can see the energy within you, please follow my hand with yours.”

I raised my hand, watching as she waved her fingers in an intricate somatic motion.

“Repeat after me.”

She said something in a language I never heard of, and then snowflakes began dancing around her hand. I did my best, following what she said with the motion of her hands, and in that moment, I felt a chill in my palm as snow began to form. My ears sprang up, as my jaw started to open, but I immediately closed it in reflex. Frost was forming over my palms, but she closed her hands over mine as the magic dissipated.

~~~~~

“Honestly, Russel, this moment meant the world to me. You already knew more than you realized, and I was proud of you.”

“It’s strange to think I never realized what I could do at the time.”

~~~~~

She couldn’t stop smiling, “You are a natural at this, Russel. Have you done evocation before?”

I shook my head, “No, never. What is this..? Evocation?”

“It is magic, Russel, something you are more than capable of. For some, it may take years or practice, for others, they may never be able to harness such strength and force of will, but for you, you are special. I have only known one other person who could follow such practice with as much ease… and that person is myself, the next most gifted that I’ve seen took two days of practice.”

I was in awe, not sure what to say next.

“I will teach you more, Russel. This school is for you and everyone else who wishes to have the best possible education in the arcane. I will ask much of you, my child, but know nothing will be more than what you can handle.”

A few moments later, the other students began walking in, Jasmine bowed to greet them all one after another.

First was a little boy with brown hair, a little stocky, but he walked in with a huge smile in some basic garments, though, purple. Jasmine said purple is the color of royalty.

“Good morning, Brett.” “Good morning, Ms. Jasmine.”

Then, a girl in a lavish blue dress and stockings. She had white mary janes and her wavy hair was styled elegantly, she had this air of superiority around her, it reminded me a little of my dad… he was… a bit entitled.

“Good morning, Annalise.” “Good morning, Ms. Jasmine.”

Another girl, she had black hair, an olive complexion and had a yellow shirt and purple pants, it was… jarring. But she had a big grin on her face.

“Good morning, Nene.” “Good morning, Ms. Jasmine.”

A boy followed her, he was wearing a tabard over his clothes, on it was a shield. Jasmine told me something like that usually indicates a family symbol, a sign of an important lineage.

“Good morning, Percy.” “Good morning, Ms. Jasmine.”

Lastly, two more students walked in, they looked almost identical, both with red hair, green eyes and dressed in a similar style of outfit, white with ruffles and laces. Except the girl had a skirt and the boy hand pants.

“Good morning, Samantha.” “Good morning, Ms. Jasmine.”

“Good morning, Samson.”  “Good morning, Ms. Jasmine.”

Jasmine then gestured toward me once everyone had walked in, “Class, today we have a new student, please give a warm welcome to Russel!” Waving her hand at me, I waved back to her and then the other students as they all gawked at me.

Before this moment, I had never particularly thought about how I looked to others, mostly since I grew up underground, and Jasmine was the first human I interacted with, and now, here were other children at my age, each one staring at me in horror.

Brett was the first one to do anything as he started bawling… was I that horrific to look at?! Percy pointed a finger accusingly, “THAT’S A RAT!”Samantha and Samson seemed offended as they spoke together, “WHY IS IT WHITE?!” Annalise scowled furiously as she stomped her feet, “JASMINE! GET RID OF THAT WEASEL!”Nene wouldn’t stop staring at me, “WHAT ARE THOSE EARS?”

The kids took turns pointing at me accusingly, then tugging at Jasmine’s robes as if I had done something so incorrigibly horrific that I should be burned at the stake immediately. Jasmine did her best to hush the other students, guiding them to their desks. “Now, now, behave yourselves, Russel is a student here just as much as each and every one of you, so I expect you all to treat him as you would your other classmates.”

They would not stop staring at me, they all scrambled for desks far away from me, but by then, there were only two desks left, both adjacent to me.

“Annalise, please, take a seat.”

She whimpered querulously, “EWWWWW! Do I have to?!”

“Annalise, if you do not sit down, then you cannot attend the class with the others.”

Folding her arms, she stomped her mary janes, “But he’s yucky! His ears look stupid!”

“Madam, we do not use those kinds of words here. Please take a seat or I’ll have to tell your parents that you did not participate in class today.”

I was pulling down my ears, trying to hide how much they stuck out past my head. Were they really stupid? My face was growing hot, my fur covering all the blush growing over me.

Relenting, she took up a seat by my side, not before stepping over my tail on the floor. We both yelped as I recoiled, yanking my tail up away from her.

“JASMINE! JASMINE! HE TOUCHED ME WITH HIS TAIL, IT WAS GROSS!”

Jasmine stepped up to her desk, looming over the little girl, “Annalise, please! Behave! As long as you keep your hands and feet to yourself, you don’t have to worry about touching others or being touched. Are you here to learn or not?”

I still remember her mocking sniffle, still trying to get away from me, before giving up, knowing that her tantrums will have no effect on Jasmine. ~~~~~

“I had talks with her parents before, her father spoiled her, but her mother knew about the tantrums, she told me to send her home early if she misbehaved enough.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but her husband was what held me back, he could send me to the gallows with a single bad word to the king as his advisor. All of the students in my class are either royalty or on in relation to it, you know. It’s the position the king gave me, and I knew the work I was getting into.”

“Goodness… I suppose that does tell me a little more why they were so upset to see me.”

“I would’ve done more to stop all the discrimination if I could.”

“I know, and you’ve still done more than enough for me.”

~~~~~

I shrunk away as Jasmine taught the class, not participating in anything. Every time she’d try to get me to stand up, I could feel all the students looking at me. No longer in horror, but disgust and vitriol. They whispered amongst each other.

“Fatty ratty.” “White weasel.” “Ugly rat.” “Stinky cheese.” My ears would perk up to every insult, twitching in response, which only provoked more behind my back. “Whiskers” I hated that one, every time they said it, my whiskers would twitch, and they giggled because of it. I tried hiding my whiskers in my hands, no longer focusing on anything Jasmine had to say.

It wasn’t long until Jasmine heard the whispers, to which she finally spoke up, “Students, I’ll have no name calling in this class. If none of you want to learn more about magic, then I’ll have to end today early.”

“Good!” Annalise pouted. “I don’t want to be here with that stupid thing!”

Jasmine took a step toward Annalise, and I have never seen someone try to hide in their chair so quickly before, “Miss Annalise? Do I need to talk to your mother after class?!” Jasmine had a firm, but still soft tone, yet I could feel the cold authority seething through her teeth as her arms folded.

Annalise’s eyes were starting to water, “N-no… Ms. Jasmine…”

“Now,” Jasmine spoke up. “If we cannot be respectful, then I will just have to end class today.”

The air was so thick, I thought I was going to choke until Nene spoke up, “Ms. Jasmine, please teach us, I still want to learn magic.”

Samson chimed afterward, “Yes, Ms. Jasmine!” Samantha echoed him, “Please Ms. Jasmine!”

Jasmine shook her head, “I know we have our differences, but understand we are all capable as much as we are unique.”

Annalise muttered back, still grumpy, “What makes the white weasel any more special aside from being ugly?”

Percy and Brett were quick to join in, shouting over Annalise, “White weasel! White weasel! White Weasel! I bet he’s dumb! He looks stupid! He’s too ugly to know magic!”

Snapping her fingers like lightning, all the students jumped, now in a trembling silence. Jasmine brought up a dartboard at the wall, lining up all the other students as she took my hand, keeping me away from them. “I wanted to save this lesson after we had a little more practice for today, but let’s see how much you have all learned today so far.”

Jasmine wafted her hand through the air, “If you have been paying attention, I was trying to teach you all how to manipulate your force into material objects. Starting easy, it would have been darts today.”

The students awed at the sight, trying to mimic her movements in anticipation.

“Let’s see who knows how to recall what I’ve taught so far. It’s simple, not only do I want you all to conjure a dart, but also manipulate the air to hit the board from the other side of the class.” With her words of power, Jasmine sifted three purple darts in her hand, each one sparkling with flecks of light. Slowly, they flew through the air as she threw them before they all stuck directly into the dartboard at the other side of the room. I clung to her in awe as well, watching everything she did.

Jasmine raised her hand, motioning for the others, first, “Students, now it’s your turn, we’ll go in alphabetical order. Annalise, you’re first.”

I watched her struggle, she didn’t remember the words, but her hand gestures went fine. I knew the mistake she was making there, mispronouncing a few of the letters. She couldn’t get her darts out to begin with. “UGH!!! THIS IS NOT FAIR!”

“You should have paid attention.” She lined up the next student, “Brett.”

He couldn’t even remember the gestures needed, hanging his head before giving up with a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jasmine.”

“You should have paid attention.” She lined up the next student, “Nene.”

Nene knew the somatics, forming the darts as she spoke the words, but as she threw them, I could see her focus slip as the darts dissipated into the air. “No! I was so close! Hmmph!”

“Very good, but you should have paid more attention.” She lined up the next student, “Percy.”

“Ms. Jasmine… I don’t know the words…”

“You should have paid attention.” She lined up the next student, “Samantha.”

“Oh, Ms. Jasmine, can I go with my sister?”

“You may.”

I watched as the two eagerly did the somatics, Samantha then spoke up first, but was interrupted by Samson, “No, dummy, that’s not how it goes!” Samantha hissed, “Nuh uh! You’re doing it wrong, idiot!” “Dummy!” “Idiot” “STUPID!” “Yeah, well, mom said I’m the favorite!” “Nuh uh!” “Yeah huh!” “Dad said he doesn’t love you!” “That’s not true!”

“Samantha! Samson!”

“YOU FART!” “NO, YOU’RE FARTING!” “THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!” “YOUR FACE DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!”

The other students were giggling, forgetting about their failure moments prior before Jasmine stepped between the two of them, “That’s enough! I’ll have no name calling in my class! Clearly, both of you should have paid more attention. Back of the class with the other students… Now!”

Then, it was my turn, Jasmine tousled my hair, “I know you can do this, Russel. I hope you’ve been paying attention where you can.”

I remembered what she said in class as I was being ridiculed, it wasn’t as if I didn’t pick it up, it was just subconsciously. I followed the motions as I said the words. Three darts in my palm, then to guide them to the board. One after another. I was the only student that day who did it successfully.

Jasmine clapped, but I could see a mix of awe and disdain in the other students.

“Teacher’s pet.”  I could hear Annalise grumble, but even then. I felt that all my efforts were in vain because nobody else clapped.

Jasmine dismissed the class shortly after we had more practice. I had to wait for everyone else to do it successfully.

Once class was over, Jasmine and I had to wait for everyone else to leave first before she could take us home, “Did you have a good day at school? Don’t worry about the others, I know being a new student isn’t always the easiest, but you’re incredible at this, Russel! You have plenty more days of school ahead.”

I couldn’t bear the thought as I burst into tears, shoving my face into her thigh as I clung onto her robes, “I want to go home! I want to be back where nobody said anything to me, I don’t want to go to school anymore! Everyone was making fun of me!”

I remember how she sighed before giving back her usual smile as I looked into her eyes. She dried my tears away with a kerchief as she held me closer, “It’s okay, Russel, but adversity is what makes us stronger. I’ll try to accommodate the class for you, but… I cannot make them be nicer to you, only protect you where I can. If they step out of line, I’ll intervene as I can, but there are many things you just have to deal with, sometimes. Tell you what, I’ll make you something special for dinner tonight, all you have to do is tell me what you want so I can make it up to you.”

I wasn’t hungry then, and a part of me didn’t want to eat, what if I was the fatty ratty they said I was? I hardly knew what good food was, either, so she took me home and got me cleaned up. She made latkes… It seems to be her go-to meal for cheering me up or any special occasion… They’re by far my favorite dish from her. I thought about how my real parents hardly ever made anything for us to eat, it was what we could find or starve. I was almost okay with that, at least I wouldn’t have to go to school anymore.

The next day, I tried to stay in bed, pulling the covers over my head to shield myself from the light, but it was futile. Jasmine snapped her fingers and all of the covers flew off, nearly taking my paws with them.

I saw her holding a box, “Russel, here, I have a gift for you, come on, get up.”

I watched as she sat next to me, opening them up. It was a pair of brown leather gloves, so soft it might as well have been satin. “Here, if you’re feeling left out, wear these gloves, they’ll help you fit in, I promise.”

I felt weird wearing them, while the clothes she gave me were nice, touching these made me feel like I was on another planet, a whole new world opening up to me.

“Do you like them?”

I didn’t know how to put it into words, but she understood it as she pulled me into a hug.

“Class will get better, I promise. You’re still learning, after all. You are my little prodigy.”

She took me to the kitchen after dressing me up, getting me ready for the day. Each lecture had the soft background noise of whispering from the other students as they scooted their desks away.

“Teacher’s rat.” “White weasel.”

Annalise caught everyone on with hers, and I didn’t even know what a weasel was at the time.

Annalise loomed closer to me, “Those gloves are ugly, by the way.”

It was at that moment, I heard a snap, then the door to the classroom flew off his hinges as a shockwave pulsed through the room. Everyone was screaming as the wind was pushing us all back. Papers were scattering through the room. I could see Nene sprawled over her desk, holding on for dear life as the gust threw my ears behind my head, my whiskers brushing against my cheeks. It was like a tornado flew into the room and then left after only a second.

Jasmine was fuming, I could see her eyes were literally sparking with fire, it made my heart sink to see her like this, “That’s enough lecture for today. Everyone can walk home now.”

~~~~~ “I remember that day, I was livid, because I wanted you to fit in, and it’s as if kids can smell weakness, Annalise knew those gloves were supposed to help you, and to hear her say something like that, well, I had to get you out of there before things got worse for you. I didn’t want you to regress in my classroom.”

“I am kind of glad you did that, because I forgot what Annalise said at the time, it wasn’t until you made her apologize later when it hit me.”

~~~~~

The students were whining a bit, but nobody quite knew why class was over. I think it was the shock of the moment where we all got up and left, too scared to see what you’d do. I was trembling in my seat, still, not moving an inch as everyone left before you walked up to me.

She tousled my hair again, “Sorry about ending class early, let’s get you home, shall we?”

My fingers were vibrating in my gloves, my tail stiffened behind me, I had to pull it through the back of the chair as I stood up before taking her hand.

The next day, class was a lot quieter, though each time she’d close the lecture a little early to see who’s been paying attention, and some were better than others. I wasn’t perfect each time, but I felt leagues ahead of them, not that it mattered when I felt so alone and outcasted all the time. What did it matter if I was better than everyone else if I had no friends other than my mother?

Jasmine started putting us into groups, but it hardly helped because none of the others wanted to talk to me. I could see the disgust, I was vermin, I was a weasel, a pest.

Nene just stared at me the entire time, “Do you eat cheese all day, like a stinky?”

“What’s cheese?”

“Hmmph, You’re not even the good kind of mouse…”

She’d constantly ask me questions, keeping her distance, I felt weird, and none of them made any sense to me.

The next day, I was with Brett, he wouldn’t even look at me. I was feeling even more self-conscious as I twiddled my thumbs.

“From the wrist down with your gloves, you almost look like a real person, and I guess that’s okay.”

“I’m not a real person?”

“No?”

He stopped talking to me after that. Didn’t do anything else with me that day.

Percy was with me the next day.

“My dad said he kills monsters like you outside the kingdom.”

“I’m a monster?”

“Yeah, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“What’s a wolf?”

“Like a big dog, but dangerous.”

I nodded, still not knowing what these animals were.

He leaned in close for a whisper, “My dad also said that I should kill you if you turn out to be evil and to keep a close eye on you.”

“What does your mom say?”

“She said to listen to my dad.”

Percy was only student that refused to take their eyes off me. I wanted even less attention today. I was starting to get scared… learning all these new things…

“Jasmine, what’s a monster?”

“Don’t worry about it, my child.”

“Percy said I’m a monster.”

Her hand squeezed mine as we were walking home, “You’re not a monster, you are my child, you are my special boy, and don’t let anyone make you think you’re worth any less for being different, okay, Russel?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Promise?”

I was taught not to lie… “I’ll try, mother…”

She sighed as she pulled me closer, “That’s all I can ask of you for now. I still believe in you, always, never forget that.”

The next day, I was paired with both Samantha and Samson, they never wanted to be separated.

“You talk to it first.” No, you talk to it first!” “Quartz, parchment, shears!” “One! Two! Three! Go!” “Not fair, you cheated!” “Nuh uh” “Ughhh! Fiiiiiine!”

I was so confused… I’m an… it?

Samantha turned to me, “Hi.” She turned to Samson immediately, “I did it, now you go.”

“What?! You have to say more than that!” “No, I did what I was told, you go now.”

He turned to me briskly, “Hi.”

I’m surprised they kept this up for the next hour, eventually they built up the sentence: “Can. You. Go. Do. Magic. At. Home. Away. Please. Go. Now. Thanks. Okay. Bye. Russel. Signed. Samson. And. Not. Samson.”

It was hard trying to learn anything when nobody sees you as a peer, that day was no different, but I think the next day may have been the worst… Annalise…

“If you touch me, I’m telling Jasmine. You have to do all the studying; I don’t have to do anything with you here because you’re beneath me.”

“But I’m next to you.”

“A white weasel like you is a pest, that’s what everyone else says.”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes again, “Really?”

“Really, really, got it? You’re the teacher’s pet, so you get special treatment because she feels bad that you’re retarded.”

“What’s retarded?”

“It means slow.”

My whiskers were twitching again, “Jasmine called me a prodigy, though, I thought that means I learn fast.”

“Yeah, that’s just what they tell the retards.”

I wiped away my tears, I never felt so worthless before, like I had been lied to all this time. Maybe I was retarded, maybe I was slow, maybe Jasmine said all this stuff because she feels bad at me for being a monster. I deserve to be killed… I hear these every day, so it must be true…

My head was slumping as Jasmine passed papers around. She gave my hair a little tousle again to cheer me up, but I didn’t even flinch.

Annalise leaned in, whispering into my ear, “See the way she touched you? That’s how they touch retards. Now, since you’re so slow, you should do my paper, too, so you’ll learn twice as fast, which means you’ll almost be at the speed of us normal people.”

I had to do it, I felt like I had no choice. I didn’t want to be a retard, did I? But that’s all I felt I was, a monstrous retard. Stinky, fat, a white weasel.

Even when we weren’t partners, Annalise would force me to do her classwork and homework when she could, and I did them, because I thought I had to. I didn’t tell Jasmine, of course, because I needed to work extra hard now that I was slow.

It was nearing the end of the unit, and Jasmine said that means we have a big test coming up on the new subject.

It was at dinner when Jasmine wouldn’t stop looking at me, “What's wrong, Russel? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“I’m not hungry…”

“You don’t have to lie to me, it’s okay.”

I took a deep breath, “Jasmine… how retarded am I?”

The silver fork clattered against the porcelain china plate, causing bits of her salad to fly in the air as she looked at me in horror, “Who taught you that word? What makes you say that?!”

“Annalise said you feel bad for me because I’m a retarded white weasel.”

Jasmine slowly picked her fork back up, cleaning up the spilled vinaigrette from her dish with a napkin, “Russel, you are not a retard, you are smart, you are handsome, you are kind, you are gentle, and you deserve to be loved. You are smarter than any other student in the class, too.”

“Everyone wants me to be killed, though. I’m just a stinky monster. A fat, ugly white weasel”

I felt a sinking sensation as I was suddenly in Jasmine’s lap, swathed in her silken embrace as she held me in her robes, “None of this is true, Russel, they’re all just jealous because you’re so talented. You are so much more than they could ever be, and you deserve to live, don’t listen to them.”

“But what if they’re right?”

She gave me a kiss on the forehead, “Then prove them wrong, Russel. You cannot stoop to their level, nor should you give in. Prove. Them. Wrong.”

“How? I don’t think I can do anything…”

“We’re going to get into prestidigitation, Russel, now’s your chance to make something truly magical, put on a show, impress them all with your skills. I can give you a few extra lessons at home if you want.”

She tutored me more and more in private, she would never stop complimenting me on how quickly… Was I learning… Was I ready? She never stopped smiling at me, reassuring me every chance she got.

A week later, and I was trembling, today she wanted us all to do a personal presentation on what we’ve learned, and today was my turn to go, but I was so scared, because I had to do it all by myself, no help from Jasmine when class started.

I remember my favorite bit of magic, the sparkling force. She taught me something that wasn’t in the curriculum yet, how magic is not only a part of your will and being, but also how it can drive off your state of mind and emotions, it was too complex for me to learn further, she said, but she taught me some of the surface level pieces she could. I wanted to draw on it, at least a little, cast away my doubts and shame to channel an even stronger sense of magic.

I started that class, my vision was blurry, but then I looked at my hands, still wrapped in those leather gloves. They were special to me, not because they made me feel in place, but because it was given to me out of love, a gift from my mother. I felt like I could be myself, and I snapped my fingers. The magic whirled around my wrists up to my palms, motes of light dancing around me as I honed my will into this reality, manipulating the air around me. My fingers twitched and tingled as I coalesced each fleck of light together before throwing them into the air into several small blooming fireworks that crackled in the air.

A lightshow full of force, bottled up emotions into a cathartic release, it was me, however it had to be. My hands were trembling as I snapped my finger, causing it all to retreat quickly into my palm before I closed it, making it look like I sealed the magic away. For once, all the students clapped for me, as I had done something none of them were close to achieving yet. Sure, it was elementary for the time, but I was only ten. Jasmine never looked so proud of me in that moment as she gave me a big hug.

“You can’t do that, can you, Annalise?”

“No, can YOU, Brett?”

“No! But it was so cool!”

Class ended after another lecture, but Annalise stayed longer than everyone else. Finally, she approached me, just the two of us and Jasmine watching from her desk.

She twiddled her fingers, a mixture of confusion, and perhaps anticipation, “Russel… I’m really sorry for everything I said to you… for calling your gloves ugly… for making you do my homework. For calling you a white weasel and retarded. I was just mad that you were doing so good, and I thought that if you did my homework, I could learn what you know from it when you gave it back… I just... Those lights were really pretty… could you show me how to do that?”

At first, I didn’t know what to say, but Jasmine always told me to treat others how I want to be treated and to respect others, “Yes, I can teach you, you really liked it?”

“Yeah, but I want to do it with blue instead of purple!”

I was beaming, and I caught her off guard with my grin before she giggled, “Okay, can I stay after class with Russel for a bit, Ms. Jasmine? I want to learn like he did!”

“Of course, Annalise, you may. The more the merrier!”

~ * ~

“It’s funny to think about how Annalise was my first real friend… Looking back, I guess things weren’t so bad, just the first few months… as a white weasel. I wouldn’t want to have grown up any other way, nor with anyone else.”

Jasmine laughed softly, “Does she still call you a weasel?”

“Sometimes, but it’s not an insult anymore.” I looked at my gloves, rubbing my fingers together, “Thank you… for everything you’ve done, Mother…”

“You’ll always be my little prodigy, Russel… Now, are you ready? You can be my teaching assistant for today, Annalise said she couldn’t make it, and, let’s be honest, you’re still better than her and everyone else from that class.”

I couldn’t stifle my laugh, “Alright, alright. I hope your younger students have learned by now that magic can come from anyone or anything, no matter how different they may be.”

“Shall I make latkes for breakfast today?”

I could feel my tail starting to wag, and she took note of my excitement.

“I take that as a yes, now finish getting ready, they’ll be done when you come out.”

“Thank you, I love you, Mom.”

She gave my hair a quick tousle as she left, “I love you, too, Russel.”

[straycatboogie]

2023/05/30 English

BGM: The Police - Synchronicity II Today I worked early. I read Yoshio Kataoka's essays again. He tells us that we should learn proper basis of English for learning it. We tend to think that we can learn English "automatically" without any efforts. You shouldn't try anymore, but just get soaked into English then it "naturally" becomes a part of yourself... Kataoka, however, says it's wrong. He says that languages "artificially" become a part of ourselves. In other words, languages become like that by the efforts we make day by day steadily. I agree with him. As I write this, I believe that we shouldn't rely on our talents to learn English. We just have to learn step by step. For example, memorizing words and making sentences actually. They would bring us a certain progress. At least, I am doing those things to improve my English... Even though I have learned English literature at a university, I still make mistakes in English. So this wouldn't move your mind. By the way, I am really living a selfish life. I am never trying to become a chief or a big boss. I don't work so hard to become a good business person. I am living as a stray cat and looking for my favorite or interested things. Partly I live as an employee who works for my company to get money, and partly I am digging my own interest and walking my way. It might be unserious from other people's eyes. Egoistic? But I want to say that kind of lifestyle must be accepted from the spirit of diversity. Since I was a kid, I couldn't join any groups my classmates made. I just liked looking for what I liked. It's the same even now. Learning English and enjoying communication. From them, learning a lot and facing various people's several opinions. That's my life, my way. It might be lucky that I could have found that "my way". Now, even though I am not completely stress-free, I am living really freely. A person who I had met on clubhouse recommended me to join in her online salon via Facebook. It will be held tomorrow. It's the one about English and seems really an international one with foreign members. English always helps me like that... Recently I started joining various groups on clubhouse and trying to make practice of speaking and listening. Sharing funny stories, and also learning the global news. Not trying to become a comedian and share "super cool" topic. You should be yourself and that's enough. Don't apologize your "poor" English. Me, my English is terrible. It's really Japanese broken one... In addition to that online salon, I'm going to attend the English conversation class from next month. I can feel that I am enjoying various activities about English. I should use reminder function of my smartphone for not to forget them. I repeat this again and again... I have never studied abroad. Even though I was a college student, I wrote my papers in Japanese. And also, it is really recent that I started learning English seriously like now. Since then, I just had disappointed about my life. I had been soaked into alcohol losing any hope in my life... But I met my teacher, and she told me that there is the English conversation class Shiso International Association holds. Indeed, I worried to go there because my English is really "too Japanese", but I decided to go there. After that, I got various connections from that... that told me that you can begin your life from anywhere. You can begin yours from any stage. Now, through learning English, I have been enjoying communications and connections. I am going to entering my 50s and 60s. I'm certainly getting old. I see my face on mirrors. It tells me my face gets aged bit by bit. But, I feel that I am getting younger than the past days. I am far from any "mature" people who have peace of mind.

[renee-writer]

Tiny Beautiful Things Chapter 14

AO3

He joins her outside, in the gardens, more and more, after that night. Much less self conscious around her, but still more then a bit, around everyone else, he is glad she works away from Lallybroch ‘s guests. They are alone most of the time.

 

As she plants and pulls, waters and fertilizes, they swap more stories. His are mainly from before. Hers of her unusual childhood.

 

He holds a tray of seedlings that will grow into pepper plants, when he brings up the time right after the accident.  Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he watches her hands dig in the dirt, as he speaks.

 

“I woke up unaware of where I was. The pain was,” he struggles to find a word for it, “everywhere. It seemed even my hair hurt. The next thing I was aware of, after the pain, was a soft sobbing on my right side. It was Jenny.” Claire reaches out, gently removing one of the seedlings, shaking out it’s roots, before placing it in the hole. He continues.

 

“What happened ?” I asked her. Her head whips around so fast that I swear it makes its own wind.” They both chuckle. “She had been praying. ‘You are awake! Thank God! I must ring the doctor.’ ‘Not until you tell me, Fuk this hurts!’ Pardon me, but that is what I said.”

 

“Please, you should hear some of the words my uncle uses, but later. Go on.” She pats the ground around the plant and reaches for another.

 

“As it should. You were in a bad motorcycle accident.” She responds. “We weren’t  even sure if you would wake up.”

 

“An accident. I don’t recall… Wait, how long have I been out?” At this point, her anger fades and she lets the fear bleed through. The anger kept her going, you see. The fear though, it was always right under the surface, waiting to come out, truly needing too.”

 

She plants the last and decides a break is in order. Moving closer to him, she rests her head on his  shoulder. She needn’t say a word. It is enough.

 

“I waited on her to answer me. Finally she whispers, ‘almost a week.’ I recall jumping at that. It pulled at my back. It was also when I realized that I was in my stomach. The brain tends to reboot slowly after a major trauma. Anyway, the movement caused unimaginable intense pain. I screamed. She is up, reaching for the call button. It would be a few days more before I received answers on the extend of my injuries.”

 

“They kept you drugged up.”

 

“Aye, they had to. The pain was crazy. A living thing, working it’s way into every façade of my life. I couldn’t get off my stomach for long. To do so took a significant amount of drugging and a major effort.

 

My side was first. They let me lay on it. For weeks it was just my stomach or side. Weeks where one form of torture or another made up my days. Therapy,” She notices that he shudders when he says it. “Hurt to heal was their motto. They lived it out. At first, just moving off my stomach was all I could do. It took all day, just to turn around and return to my stomach. Worse though was debridement. I took a lot of the roadway with me. My back, my arms, my scalp. It has to all come out. No amount of drugs could keep me from screaming.”

 

She strokes the healing flesh of his arms, working down to his hand, as he talks. His sighs start to replace his words. Revealing himself like this, it isn’t something he has done since therapy. He saw someone, starting in hospital and continuing for a few months after. Claire combines a listening ear with physical touch. It is just what he needs.

 

The shadows are lengthening as the sun starts to set. She moves closer, almost landing on his lap. He lifts her into it. A grin before she takes his lips. A groan as he returns her kiss.

 

Every chat doesn’t end with making out. Few, in fact. They wouldn’t be still fumbling around were that so. It isn’t that they don’t want the other, as their moving hands and lips testify to. He still worries about exposing his full self to her. She is leery of full intimacy after him.

 

He moves his lips down to her chest,  slowly undoing buttons as he makes his way down. She rubs her need against his own. Maybe today, out her in the back garden, will be the place where they make love.

 

“Hello Claire.” His voice is a dash of cold water.

[boloorsportsmania]

Diamond jubilee lady hits the BULLSEYE 🙂

Just as my mom Smt. Sanjeevini Rao turns 75 tomorrow ,here are 7 special moments which makes me feel proud of her. I call her The Iron Lady for these very special qualities. A gritty , focused and tough lady had a very special 70 years. Along with these special achievements, her biggest victory is how she battled Lymphoma Cancer. She braved through 6 full chemo treatment to fight the cancer. Having will power, dedication and focus to get through cancer with a positive attitude is not everyone's cup of tea. Hat's off mom. Keep rocking!!!Just as photo describes, she has hit BULLSEYE in this aspect .

Moment 1 : Period 1984. Place Bhadravathi. Dad was in transferable job as he had moved to marketing role. We got transferred from Bangalore to Bhadravathi. Me and Seema joined St Charles school. Mom and Dad were curious to see how we would fare in school considering change of school is not always easy to adapt. I was in 2nd standard and Seema in 5th standard. St Charles was a very competitive school with loads of bright students. In mid term exams, we did well. Results were to be announced after festival holiday break. Mom had put in a great effort to get me accustomed to new syllabus and new school. St Charles had a tradition of announcing top 3 ranks of each class in morning assembly. This was to encourage the students. I was literally chatting my friend Ashit during the assembly when all of a sudden something shocking happened. They announced my name for 2nd rank. In our class, we had 2 students by my name. They had not announced initials. They again announced my name with Boloor tag to it. I was shocked more than surprised. My hands were almost trembling when I ran towards the stage. I had shock expression in my face even when I received marks card from principal. Seema also came 2nd in class in that exams. Mom was thrilled . Dad was even more as he felt a bit guilty of being transferred to Bhadravathi. He literally picked me and threw into the air. My head almost touched the roof the hall in the house. Well, fun just started here. Seema was always a student who would excel consistently. I was like Ravi Shastri, happy in hitting a few sixes and then get out of form 😉 In Nov exams, my rank dipped to 10th and in Dec exams to 23rd. During this period, my aunt Sharath was in Bhadravathi. As soon as I showed my marks card to mom, lecture started as expected from mom. I expected that as her oratory skills was like legendary Indira Gandhi. Hard hitting words with spot on points. I had my face covered in hands as I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. She made a comment “ Your marks has fallen off the mountain, from the peak to the bottom. In next exam, I guess you would dig the ground and go further down !!”. Sharath aunty felt bad and tried to calm mom. I started getting a bit nervous. Things calmed post that. The way she expressed her opinion, I know she was more hurt that I scored less marks. Mom then didn’t say a thing for a week. She then prepared a daily time table of what to read. Seema on the other hand had secured first rank in both the exams. Mom never pressurized me by comparing to Seema. She knew both are of different mould. In today’s sporting world, She was Virat Kohli and I was a mere Rishab Pant with a few sixes here and there. I put in loads of effort post that. I managed to get 5th rank in final exams. This was my first face off with mom’s anger. I can relate to this anger even now. I am a bit tempered. Beneath anger, I knew she wanted me to do the best.

Moment 2 : A couple of years later, mom felt the need to work as it would improve the financial state of the house. She was always fond of teaching. She had done B.Sc in Maths and was even a rank holder. She decided to pursue B.Ed which would open up teacher roles for her. Unfortunately, there was no college in Bhadravathi which had this course. She enrolled into a college in Shimoga which was about 1 hour drive from Bhadravathi those days. So at the age of 38, she decided to do B.ED which was remarkable since she had to do on top of normal household work. She would get up at 5 AM, get household work done, then leave to Shimoga at 7 AM. She would return by 5 PM. She would have some assignments too. She would help me in my homework as well. This routine would go for 1 full year. It needed a lot of guts and determination to do this. By the time, she completed her B.Ed, dad came to home with news of being transferred again. Mom had the expression in her face which would say “ When one challenge is completed, other follows like a shadow!!”. We moved to Bangalore again !!!.

Moment 3 : Period 1988 to 1990. This was a phase we led a rapid life. I was super happy as our house was right in front of massive APS college ground. Mom happen to be teacher of the same school where Seema studied. Infact, she was Maths teacher of Seema for 9th and 10th standard. I was busy playing. The moment I return from school, I would rush to the ground. Mom and Seema would return from school together. This was period where Seema would win loads of awards. Mom was super proud of her. She won 2nd price in Hindi debate competition for whole of Karnataka which was splendid achievement. She won loads of awards in school competitions too. 2 moments brought maximum happiness to Mom during this phase. One was Seema winning Hindi debate competition and another was me winning 3rd prize in science exhibition. I enrolled my name at the last moment and didn’t have any idea what to present. Mom gave the idea of liquids getting heated faster than solid. Example was simple. Have a stand to place a cardboard box. Fill the box with water. Place a candle under the box with enough distance between them. Its observed that water catches fire faster than cardboard box. Mom gave me explanation points around it too which revolved around some molecular theory. I memorized it well as I had a knack of doing it. Judges were some college professors. 70 students had participated in it. Judges heard each student’s explanation. There were some interesting ones too like volcanic effect by my classmate Niranjan. I explained my part well. My only worry was that I had just 2 cardboard boxes. I had to use it smartly. I had to start the experiment just a few minutes before judges came to my seat. I did that well. Judges were impressed. I felt relieved. Post lunch, one of the teachers came and made 2 announcements. One was that parents and teachers would come around to see the displays between 3-5 PM IST. 2nd was the 3 winners. I was shocked more than surprised when they announced my name as 3rd place winner. It made my day. Mom couldn’t come to watch my experiment since she would return from school only 430 PM. I had a bigger issue in hand. I didn’t have any cardboard box left. I went around sweet shop near my house. He spared me 4 old boxes without charging a penny. We would constantly buy veg puff there. So he knew me well. Post 5 PM, I ran to house to announce my results. Mom was super happy. She couldn’t control her wide smile. She and Seema came for prize distribution later too. Actor Srinath was the chief guest that year. It was cool to receive the prize from him. Mom made science and Maths simple for me which helped a great deal in later years to come.

Moment 4 : In 1990, we got transferred again. This time to Madras. It took ages to get settled in the TN capital. I used to call it MAAADDDras with specific emphasis on Mad. I made good friends though but life style was so different. In school too, focus was all on studies. In the school I studied, there was no sports period as well. That’s when we as a family got really close. We literally became friends for each other. To top the pain, our TV had gone to maker’s factory for insurance claim. For 6 months we didn’t have TV. I literally followed 1990 world cup soccer on news paper only. Due to this, we had loads of time though. We used to go for long walks post dinner. We used to live in Ashoknagar which was really a good place. Mom got her job in school pretty fast. She directly approached principal of Jawahar Vidyalaya. They had a post open at that time. Her career really picked up from there. In initial years of tough life in Chennai, mom held us together. This was very critical since we led next 10 years of life in Madras.

Moment 5 : I had a crazy way of studying for my exams. I liked to read while walking. I walked around the house as if it is a temple. This is not just it. I had to have TV on with some sports channel on. I would constantly focus on scores as and when I come in front of TV. When I study, others don’t get to watch TV !! . Mom somehow managed to bear my crazy style of studying. The pace at which I would walk would increase as and when I get further in studies. Infact, I even studied Maths like this. I studied Maths also mentally rather than practicing it. During engineering days, books would get heavy. So I would tear books into 3-4 parts !!! Any other mother would lock their kid in a room and make them study if they study in such a idiotic way. She always smiled when I walked with an expression “ You are one unique specimen !!! “ . She kept saying to his students who came to tuition though that this is exactly NOT the way to study !!! 😊 . What she couldn’t say to me she said to her students. Speaking of making your point in a unique way !!

Moment 6 : I had met with a major accident 2 months before my XII board exams. I was bed ridden for almost 2-3 weeks. It was critical phase for XII as all revision exams and tuitions was scheduled during that phase. Any other parent would have panicked. But mom being mom, she just told me to give it all once I am fine. She did sound a bit nervous though. Mom and dad didn’t want to make me nervous though. Once I recovered, I just had a little more 4 weeks left for exams to start. I decided not to go final revision as well as that would reduce time for preparation for final exams. Though it was a bold move, mom felt that would be the best as well. I prepared a strict timetable. In X board exams even though I did well, I just managed to score 80% marks. Any such dip would make dad’s life difficult as management engineer quota was expensive. I just put my mind out of all this and just focused on studies. I still watched TV and still walked around the house though !!!. I did reasonably well in exams. When the day came for the marks to come, mom decided to stay back home and took off from school. She was a bit nervous but didn’t show it. My marks was like Bulls eye for engineering seat. I got 96.5% in PCM which mattered. I just got 85% in rest. But that was enough. Infact, I was topper in the class in PCM% which was a shocker for me. Had mom not given the freedom to study the way I did, I would not have fared so well. It mattered a lot as management quota seat would cost 40-50K per year but free seat would just cost 6.5K per year. I managed to get the later. Dad was so thrilled that he too came back from office earlier than scheduled with a box of sweets. I finally had a moment which made mom and dad proud and I was proud of it !!!

Moment 7 : Well, this has got to be Singapore trip . Mom, dad, Seema and Sanjay came to Singapore when I was posted there for an onsite assignment. We really had good time there. Mom had a wish to visit a foreign country and she was smiling all through the trip.

Cheers to Mom for her “ Never say die “ spirit. Though there were few moments where our thoughts didn’t match , it was negligible when compared to the respect we have for each other. Mom rocks at 75 !!! Many cheers to the IRON Lady who turns 75 tomorrow !!!!

[tvstarkuma]

"oh, teddieeeeeee!"

that's about all the warning the bear gets before being swept up into madoka's arms in a big, loving hug. she leans down to press a kiss to the crown of the mascot's head, giggling cheerfully, before pulling away and digging through a tote bag to find a rather large gift wrapped in red and blue.

inside, teddie would find a full set of madoka's favourite shoujo manga: kaitou saint mail. from the looks of it - the slight yellowing of the pages and creases in the spine from being read and reread over and over again - they're quite literally her copies from childhood. it had taken a lot of effort to get them here, so she hopes her friend appreciates the piece of her heart she's passing on.

"happy bear-thday!" she practically sings, "i hope you enjoy these; they got me through a lot when i was younger... take good care of them for me, okay? they're really precious to me... just like you! so i thought, y'know, they'd have a good home in your paws. seriously, though, teddie... i don't know what we - what i, even - would do without you. you're such a ray of light in everyone's lives... like a bright, shining star who makes everyone who sees it happier. i'm so glad you decided to come join us on this side. let's make even more and more memories together, okay? love you, honey. to bits!"

Back then, Teddie would’ve never imagined where he would be today. To have his deepest desires that he had to ignore all be granted would’ve been unfathomable. Now here he lived amongst humans, no longer alone. Teddie was surrounded by friends who loved him and lived with a kind family. Teddie had everything he could’ve asked for and today he remembered the first day he spent stepping into the glorious unknown.

“Senseeeeeiii!” The mascot shouted back with as much energy as he could. For fun this was now a challenge and Teddie was not going to lose.

His face turned an innocent pink as they shared their loving hug and then a brighter red when she kissed his head. There was enough cheer in the bear to keep snuggling, but he kept to himself like a good boy. Sensei also had a noticeably full tote bag today that caught his attention.

“Are you here here play with Teddie today? Or do you have something special for me?”

Teddie couldn’t resist seeing inside the gift. He’s never received anything this heavy before. Must be something big! Turns out it wasn’t one big gift, it was a few smaller gifts: manga! The bear took one of the books and quickly flipped through pages. None of Yosuke’s manga looked like this. They all had completely grey pages and clean spines. He held one particular page between two fingers and enjoyed the art style. He loved cute manga like this!

"Sensei's own precious bear-loom?!" Definitely this was a series he would glide right through, "Thank you, Sensei! I'll read every page. I promise I'll be as gentle as a cub."

As an example, Teddie carefully put the manga volume he flipped through back with the rest. Keeping them together for easier transportation was important! Teddie must not be a bear who loses things.

"Sensei..." The bear could feel his eyes start to form tears even as he smiled wide, "I wouldn't be here without all of you helping me find out who I am. My life on this side is all thanks to you! Our memories together are the best days in my entire life. This...is my life! I didn't have anything before I met you guys. Seeing you all happy is the greatest gift I can ever have."

Placing his gift down beside them, he wrapped his arms around Madoka and gave her an even tighter hug than before. An ultimate bear hug! The crown jewel of hugs!

"I love you, Sensei! And I'll keep loving you while I continue being the best Teddie that's ever and will ever be!"

[gl4ssw1ngp1xy]

Get to know me: Walking dead edition

“ Hi, I’m Amaya Thatcher, I am twenty-two years old and I live in Duluth, Georgia with my Mom, Dad, Two brothers and my sister. I am a student midwife, I do work experience at my local hospital actually. Once I left school I spent three years in nursing school and I’m now moving into the real thing. Yeah, It’s pretty crazy!

Umm, I was adopted at a young age, actually as soon as I was born, I was given to my Mom and Dad. they’ve always been pretty cool about it. They told me about it as soon as I was old enough to understand. Didn’t want it to be this big, dark awful secret, you know. And it’s not, they did a really good job with always making me feel part of the family. It was just a natural part of my life, my journey but I was where I belong, where god or whatever higher being planned me to be. If every puzzle piece was made the same way, you wouldn’t be able to fit them all together, I guess. See the bigger picture.. When I was six I joined the scouts. That was fun, I got a high from earning badges. they were my pride and joy! I stayed with the scouts for ten years, learned some pretty fun skills. Setting campfires, Foraging and first aid. Then there were the not so important skills like learning bird noises. Still fun though! I use to spend a lot of time in the garage with my Dad. Mum didn’t allow him to smoke in the house so he would hide away in there while he did so, not wanting to wait out in the cold. We had this deal that I would keep his smoking habit a secret as long as he let me sit with him. He would often tell me stories while working on the car or some project he had brought from inside the house. One of my favourite stories was about this girl, she would walk past this road that has this massive stone in the middle of it. It nocked every cart and carriage going over it, just a pain to all the travellers but no one bothers to do anything about it. So this girl, she decides she’s going to move it herself and day after day, she goes to this stone in the road and digs. She does this day in, day out, no help from anyone else but she’s determined to move this dam rock and help out the travellers. Finally one day she reaches the bottom, the whole stone gone! under that stone was a bag of gold. because she was determined, persistent and cared about the travellers that moved across this road, She was rewarded with a bag of pure gold. I always loved that story… Maybe I always wanted to be that girl... To put so much effort and love into what I do. If Dad had never told me that story, I doubt I’d be where I am today with all the things I’ve achieved. With my dream job. I’m so close to becoming a full on midwife. I love my work experience! I just feel at home when I’m on the team helping mothers-to-be and new-borns on their journey into the world. They are my bag of gold, my reward for all I do. It’s truly an incredible job. Unfortunately I’m doing most of my work experience at home right now. Writing up the last of my course work on my laptop, It’s not as enjoyable as actually working at the hospital, but oh well. This Virus, Wildfire, It’s just made things a bit difficult lately. Rules are stricter, more wards and parts of the hospital are being zoned off. restricted access. Yeah, it’s annoying but it won’t last forever, Right?"

(Faceclaim made with Artbreeder)

GWP X

[hikertrashprincess]

FT Day 1

1/2/24

We arrived at the Oasis Visitor Center and slept. In the morning I woke up at 6 and was surprised to see another thru hiker, Peg Leg, who was heading south on the East Coast Trail. In the early morning hours I could not comprehend the concept of walking south and kept asking her what she meant. I later connected with her on instagram and we both felt like weirdos after the encounter, so at least I wasn’t alone in that. Very cool to meet someone who had walked all the way from Canada (and also continuing south to Key West!). She alleviated a lot of my worries by letting me know the swamp didn’t go above knee deep.

I spent some time bird watching and seeing alligators! There were so many cool birds, including a bright pink one called rosceatic spoonbill.

We got backcountry permits at the visitor center and looked at the exhibit on alligator wrestling. I asked the ranger if they had the cord I need to charge my headlamp and she sarcastically said “ no we don’t have any of that important hiking stuff.” Not sure how a ranger at the beginning of a national scenic trail has never heard of power banks and multi-day hiking trips but I just felt embarrassed. Another ranger did offer to mail my postcard for me though, so that was nice.

I had to ask about an unfamiliar animal on the “local animals” board- a skunk ape. Apparently it’s the local version of Bigfoot which made me even more excited to get out into the backwoods. My biggest apprehension was that the visitor center had a pond teeming with alligators. There had to be 10 alligators in a 30x200 ft pond. I imagined in a few hours I would be walking through a pond like this past swimming alligators and started to regret my decisions. Luckily the rest of the day showed those fears were unfounded.

We started off into the swamp, which was some do the most unique hiking I’ve ever done. Limestone rocks shaped like puzzle pieces full of large holes covered the ground. These stood alone or covered with thick, clay-like mud or 1 inch-1 foot of water. In the murky water every step was a mystery. Would you sink into the thick mud and struggle to pull your foot out? Would you slip on the slick mud and try to catch yourself as all your body weight suddenly shifted to the left? Fall into a hole in the limestone? Plunge into a divot in the mud? Step on a rock for one blissful solid step? It was physically and mentally exhausting. The cypress trees, flying egrets,and savannahs were gorgeous. It looked like another world, surely another continent at least.

Morpheus fell into one of the mud divots and broke his trekking pole. He was amazing agile enough to continue without a pole. I was amazed as I continued falling into the swamp and watched him gracefully move through it. It was more exhausting for him though because he would sink into the mud more and every step took more effort. I nearly lost my shoes into the mud when I got into a particularly sticky patch of mud and had to dig them out with my hands.

We were excited to get to a campsite with a picnic table for a short break. There was a couple there. The guy was a Michigan fan and it was very fun to be able to tell him that they had won the Rose Bowl while he’d been camped out in the swamp.

The mileage markers on the trail were… unique. Not a single one seemed to be accurate. We had stopped at 7 mile camp. 10 mile camp was 2 miles away but 13 mile camp was 9 miles away.

We decided to stop at Ten Mile Camp, and were joined by Jamie and his group- another adult and some teen boys- we assumed either a church group or a family- Buggy and Time Crunch. Wanderer stopped by to say but I could tell we would not be on pace to see him again. Two guys rolled into camp after we went to bed. There was a gorgeous sunset and we went to sleep.

[aswesawitblog]

Too Fat to Travel: How We Lost 170 Pounds of Weight

Dang, I griped to myself, the airlines sure have shrunk the plane seats. I guess that’s so they can squeeze more people into every plane. I can’t even cross my legs sitting here. Sheesh.

Travel is only fun if you’re healthy. When you’re fat (or overweight, if you prefer to be PC), climbing stairs takes more effort, walking uses more energy, and you avoid mirrors and photo ops. And you sure don’t want to be squeezed into a child-size seat at 30,000 feet for hours on end. Ugh.

But that’s not the worst of it: Dan developed DVT on our trans-Pacific flight to Bali. Deep vein thrombosis is a life-threatening condition. The blood clot in his leg lasted for weeks, I was freaking out, and he didn’t feel like going anywhere. Way to ruin an adventure, right?

Table of Contents  show 

Denial is not just a river in Egypt

It’s not as though we didn’t know we were overweight. That much was obvious, duh. I could pretend that the airplanes and clothing companies had resized, but I knew it was me.

So how fat were we?

Dan was carrying 120 extra pounds around. My size 16 clothes were getting tight and I was at least 50 pounds heavier than I had been in college.

Over the years we had tried “eating right,” Weight Watchers, Atkins, Nutrisystem and more. We had moderate success and made many lifestyle changes, but nothing lasted. We were still too big.

How it all started

It all began in Panama when I found a doctor who was willing to work with me to solve my weight issue. Fluent in English, he had trained and worked in the United States but had returned to his homeland. He had tired of battling insurance companies and he wanted to get to know his patients and dig into their lifestyles to find what might be causing their issues. Back in the US, he had to move patients along because he needed the revenue to cover his overhead.

Anyway, after the usual medical workup and blood tests, he gave me a series of options to try. One by one I tried them. Long story short: nothing was working and I was getting desperate. I finally decided to stop resisting the medical weight loss protocol he had been recommending.

Who would blame me?

I had read on the internet that the protocol was dangerous, and I believed it. (If you hear something enough times, does that make it true?)

My favorite excuses were:

I don’t like being hungry.

I like food and I’d be watching Dan enjoy whatever he pleased.

Cooking is Dan’s therapy and muse. He has claimed the kitchen as his domain.

But if I didn’t bite the bullet and do that I would continue to gain weight. I really had little choice.

Support is essential.

I’m not sure what made him decide to join me, but minutes into hearing about my program, Dan was using the word we instead of she.

Maybe it was the incredible results we could expect: as much as a pound of weight loss per day, or the fact that it was a long-established medical protocol, or that we only had to be on the most restrictive part of the diet for a month.

Or maybe it was because of that DVT or that he suspected his body might be pre-diabetic.

Whatever the reason, we both decided to go for it.

FAQs about the HCG Diet

How does HCG work?

Our doctor was extremely clear: This is not a diet, it’s a bona fide medical protocol that has been around for over 50 years. It was developed by a British military doctor, Dr. A.T.W. Simeons, he said, so treat it as such and take it seriously.

>> The HCG diet protocol does not allow cheating. At all. <<

At the heart of the program is a natural hormone that is produced during pregnancy called Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (HCG). HCG is what makes it possible for a woman to deliver a healthy baby … even if she has morning sickness the whole time and can barely eat a thing.

The theory is that HCG causes the brain to trigger a release of fat stores.

Although HCG is naturally produced only by pregnant women, it has the same effect on everyone, both men and women. When administered in very minute doses and coupled with a very low calorie diet, people routinely lose between 0.5 to 1 pound per day, often more. His patients who have used it swear that it is the only program where they have been able to keep the weight off afterward.

But is the HCG diet safe?

I am embarrassed to admit that I could have been thin years ago—if I’d done my own research. Instead I blindly believed what I had read—that this is a dangerous way to lose weight because no one can live on 500 calories a day.

That’s not strictly true, our doctor said. We’re not talking about a low calorie diet here, it’s a low intake program. HCG merely helps the body access its fat stores. You get all the extra calories you need from the fat you already have.

HCG works exactly the same as every other diet. You eat fewer than your required calories, and your body makes up the difference by feeding on your excess fat.

Where can you buy HCG?

Ultimately, we figured out that we could save a bunch of money buying it online. It's easiest to buy it as a kit so you have everything you need. That's what we did.

BUY THE HCG DIET KIT HERE

How do you take HCG?

You may have heard of homeopathic HCG drops, which are taken under the tongue three times a day. That’s how we started – and they work – but it’s hard to find them in the U.S. anymore. (Want to know why? Follow the money.)

Anyway, our doctor found he had better results with regular injections, so we switched to shots. Once daily is easier than remembering to take a medication 3 times a day. We had better results and it was far more convenient. Plus, surprisingly, those diabetic syringes are painless. (Who knew?)

What can you eat on the HCG diet?

In the strictest stage of Dr. Simeons’ protocol (what is known as Phase 2), food options are limited. You are permitted selected meats, 4 fruits and about a dozen vegetables, but no fats or sugars. One grissini or melba toast is allowed per meal – lunch and dinner only. You don’t eat breakfast, but you can have coffee or tea if you wish.

You might think it could be boring but no – Dan appreciated the challenge to get really creative with seasonings and prep methods. Anyway, we could tolerate our limited food choices because it was only temporary.

As for exercise, walking is permitted but not heavy exercise. That’s fine with me, ha-ha.

Fortunately, the HCG diet has recently been updated to incorporate advanced research in low-carb/ketosis dieting, caloric ratios and basic food chemistry. They call it HCG 2.0. We think it is a smarter way to lose – not to mention much easier to do. Coconut oil and stevia are permitted in limited amounts, more vegetables have been incorporated, and your daily calories can be incresed a bit.

You can even exercise, within reason. The fastest and most effective method is high-intensity interval training (HIIT).

How is the HCG diet different from a regular diet?

According to our doctor, there are two big differences between losing weight with HCG vs. other diets:

HCG curbs your appetite.

You lose weight faster, which keeps you motivated to stick with it.

When I heard that, I nearly cheered out loud. Woo-hoo! If I’m not hungry and see results, I can do this!

Why don’t more doctors recommend HCG?

Our doctor left his U.S. medical practice because he said it was too heavily controlled by insurance and Big Pharma. And then he gave me something to think about:

Weight loss is a multi-billion dollar industry. Heavy people rely on medications for weight-related illnesses, while diet pills and shakes are often made by pharmaceutical corporations.

Ask yourself: Who stands to lose if a weight loss program works too well? How far would you go to protect your source of income?

Hmmmm.

Our weight loss results

Boosted by the information he gave us, we were convinced it was worth a try. Once our doctor recorded all our baseline measurements (bone density, fat, muscle, etc.) with a machine, we left his office with the booklet outlining the protocol and the homeopathic medication we’d be taking for the next 40 days.

As required, we weighed ourselves daily. Over the next 40 days, I lost an average of 0.4 pounds/day and Dan lost twice that. (Unfair how men always lose so much faster!) But who cares? I was excited: 18.2 pounds lighter in just 40 days!

We did a few more rounds of the protocol while we were in Panama, but to be honest we got lazy and stopped paying attention to our intake. We had read that the protocol resets the body’s “set point” and thought we could eat anything we wanted to without gaining any weight.

Nope.

Here we go. Again.

Take it from us: It’s hard to lose weight when you’re traveling all over the globe. (You have to try the local foods, right?) By March 2014, I was back where I started and Dan was at least 30 pounds heavier as well. We agreed that it was time to get serious about keeping the weight off.

As I researched the protocol further, I discovered something important. Dr. Simeons was incorrect: It is actually possible to stay on the protocol for more than 40 days without developing a resistance to HCG. (I guess it stands to reason: Pregnant women have HCG in their bodies the whole time, don’t they?) We also learned how to correctly monitor our weights afterward so the fat doesn’t return in apocalyptic proportions.

When we returned to the U.S. after being overseas for three years (read about how we were kicked out of Ecuador here), we decided to stay put for a while and work to get down to our ideal weights.

We devoted ourselves to staying on the protocol for as long as it takes. And that’s how we’ve finally reached our weight loss goals.

The following year saw us do three rounds of HCG and we were thrilled with the results. Between us, we lost close to 170 pounds and haven’t regained it since. At 120 pounds lighter, Dan jokes that he almost lost his wife!

The hidden benefit no one talks about

Remember that I mentioned daily weigh-ins? The goal is to stay within two pounds of your last dose weight every day for the rest of your life. (There are ways to correct it, but that’s beyond this article.) As you enter the final, maintenance phase of the diet, you will reintroduce one food every day or two and monitor how your body responds on the scale the following day.

Through reintroducing foods one by one, I have learned which foods my body can handle and which ones it doesn’t like. When I eat wheat, for instance, my belly will quickly pooch from bloat and the numbers on the scale will rise by at least two pounds for a couple of days.

I had an aha moment when I realized that. Now, I can make informed, conscious choices: Do I really want that bread/pastry, or not? Sadly, it looks like I have similar reactions to rice and oats, so gluten-free may not be enough. But at least I know.

Side effects from our HCG diet

Whoever said that rapid weight loss can be dangerous needs to back that up wth facts. People have been doing this protocol for over 7 decades and no one has died from following the program correctly.

Seriously: it’s more dangerous to remain fat.

When we began this journey, we got winded and broke a sweat just walking a mile. Now, we easily cover 4 miles in an hour. I am far happier—and healthier—than I was in the 170’s. And I’m not done yet; I’ve set a new goal. As for Dan, friends tell him he looks like he did in high school … and he has no more DVT or sugar shakes to worry about.

That was expected, but other side effects surprised us:

Going without sugar has retrained our taste buds. Things that once tasted yummy now taste way too sweet.

Drinking water has become a habit.

We’ve learned that coffee without cream doesn’t taste too bad.

We became aware that boredom and stress are triggers. We no longer head straight to the refrigerator to deal with them.

We have more energy.

Now, how good does that feel?

Our friends have noticed.

Friends often ask about our weight loss. We can tell who is ready to shed some pounds by how they react to our answer. We get the gamut, everything from “I can’t live without bread for a day” to “I want to do that!”

What about you – do you need to have your bread or are you ready to do this? Please share your thoughts in the comments.

Resources for losing weight with HCG

If you're considering the HCG diet, here's what you need to do:

STEP 1: Start by reading the original medical paper that Dr. Simeons wrote: Pounds and Inches: A New Approach to Obesity.

STEP 2: Decide if you want to do it yourself or get help. Either way, you can buy real HCG only by prescription.

Find a doctor. Many physicians offer the HCG diet protocol, but if your doctor doesn't feel comfortable with it, you can easily find clinics and doctors who do. Just be aware that some of them charge outrageous prices for dedicated HCG programs.

Do it yourself. If you want to do the HCG diet on your own and have done your research, go for it! Like us, you can get support and buy everything you need online. 

STEP 3: Get support.

Facebook. Join an HCG Facebook group or two. Members share tips, recipes, ideas, victories and advice. Ask questions. (Of course you can ask us questions too, silly!)

Podcasts. we learned a lot from Colin F. Watson's HCG Body for Life podcast (we listened on iTunes). Maybe start with this recording: HCG Body for Life Phase 1 & 2. (We listened to all of them, mostly while driving.)