#(i doubt hes able to use his stigma as a ghost..?)

[ghoulspaw]

I was re-reading @/creamtese's post about the ghouls' stigma and demons (i 100% recommend to check it out if you haven't yet!!), and i got intrigued about the descriptions of the other Ars Goetia demons, so i went to the wikipedia page to go through the full list and

got me thinking... what if..

[stellarhistoria]

my dnd game is wack y'all / / @wclking-fire. vash & ariel; scattered across the sands au

"I've already said this once, and you'll only hear it one more time." there would be no doubt embellishments this time around because she hates telling the same EXACT story twice ( same truths, different accessories ).

even so, she rolls her eyes and looks over to her son happily ignoring the two of them, as if they were the least threatening people that could possibly exist, while also shrinking away from seemingly a docile looking woman trying to offer a drink. only to get a glare from momma and the woman backs away from her son, from justin.

"I'm sure you've already heard of my family and I in rumors, in whispers, across this desert environment, with barely an oasis to be seen from." she chortles at the memory of some of the rumors that have cropped up as a result of her happy go lucky family finding themselves in rather terrible situations. "If you haven't, then you've been quite on the run, but for your sake, I'll go over this ONLY this last time."

she takes a breath and settles into her seat as justin clambers onto her lap. "There is no doubt in my mind that you have heard of the Demon of the East. A vicious being with claws and pointed ears and eyes that glow in the dark, a constant looming storm overhead in multiple cities that the "Demon" shows up in. That would be the second youngest, my sibling. They're easily frightened when they don't have their weapons, or if they don't have their girlfriend around. Even worse if they don't recognize anybody at all."

justin leans against her chest while playing with one of his toys that twists and 'breaks' before putting itself back together, like its made of magic of some kind. "And certainly, you've heard of the doctor who is rumored to be able to heal with burns, to heal with things that make you see the night during the day. Surely, you've heard tales of how he has endless water but no one can prove it. Surely, surely, you must have heard of how he has never failed to cure someone of illness that isn't permanent." she scoffs; "That's the middle brother, heart of gold and the best resting bitch face I've ever seen."

but she pauses for a moment, gauging his reaction. pausing to let him have that sink in before continuing on. "The ones I'm sure you haven't heard much of, are my two eldest brothers. One apparently is a ghost that wanders a deserted city, trying to breathe life into a place beleaguered by something far older and more powerful than himself. I don't remember the name of the city, but it has some weird stigma to it."

"The other you probably have barely heard anything of, is a man who would fight for justice and harmony in the name of revenge. He's got a bad habit of finding out everything about places he goes and people he talks to dead last, and it tends to kick him in the ass when it happens. I'm sure there was one thing you might have heard, as I've heard it all the way out here: he was the one who has been rising the conglomerate ranks and trying to measure off water supply to those in need. Yeah. That's my idiot brother."

"Then there's me: the Living Shadow. Rumors have it that I disappear into people's shadows, haunting and hunting them should they ever step out of line or become too much of a problem to the people around them. I've been used as quite a cheesy boogeyman of sorts. I can't help but feel jaded to it all, it's actually quite cute... and my brother in the big city tells me that he's doing well enough, if being occasionally targeted ─ which is nothing new for us."

she clears her throat slightly and looks down at her son, who is reaching for the canteen she always keeps full of water. she easily hands it to him over herself, though she's worn from talking so much, and quirks a brow at the blond man before them both. "So, you got all that down somewhere, blondie? I'm not repeating it again, even if my kid doesn't think you're all that much of a threat to either of us right now."

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios University

“No, you have to lift your arm higher, Aunt Wanda. No, like this.”

Theo raised his arm dramatically to illustrate his point and Wanda tried to follow along. She never thought that she’d see the day when she was learning advanced magic from Roman’s son. Roman could conjure fire and a few parlour tricks, but he was far from a competent magic user. In the brief time that Wanda had spent with Kamalani, she’d never once seen her use proper formal magic, so she’d assumed that demons were simply dependent on their own skills. Roman was a decent demon when he put his mind to it and his mother had been nothing short of terrifying even without formal magic.

Theo on the other hand seemed to be a mixture of both. He could do powerful demonic spells in one moment and switch flawlessly to a simple spell to conjure water in the next. It wasn’t complicated magic, but the foundation of a skill was there and Wanda couldn’t help but be impressed by the quality of his education. She’d seen what Salem had paid to send Roman and Ulyssa to boarding school, and even if Roman was paying less than that for his son’s education, it couldn’t be too far off. Wanda would always regret not trying to develop her own skills, but she’d had a less than sympathetic mother and no money to pay for her own schooling. It was only after the death of Abraham that the stigma of using magic seemed to vanish and by then, Arkhelios had needed her in a different role to help it survive. If she ever found someone to run for office to replace her, maybe she could take a few classes of her own.

“Is my hand supposed to be tingling? It feels wrong,” she asked, taking note of the different colour of the energy in his hand with frustration. “Can I look at your textbook again?”

Wanda was determined to make the most of her time with Theo. It was rare to see him focused on schoolwork without getting bored, but they’d already been going over the most basic spells for over an hour now without a break.

While the Helios family held weekly family dinners, the Bellamys had only drifted further apart in Omar’s absence. Adam and his family, and Omar’s widows and their children kept to themselves after the attack that ended Omar’s life. Wanda had no interest in hearing deranged stories and theories about Theo or Roman being the culprit and she had her doubts about Kamalani being the murderer as well. Her brother had been pressured from high up to to buy into the constant need to blame a woman who Wanda was pretty sure was dead. It was lazy police work, and frankly she expected better from her brother and her officers. As long as she ran Arkhelios’ government, she needed to have her police force hunting murderers and not the ghost of a demon. It was embarrassing.

“Abe! You’re sunburnt again!” Roman chided, trying to assess the danger his fiance had put himself in by going outside in the heat. “You’re going to hurt yourself or the baby. Let me get you a glass of water. Go lie down and I’ll bring it up to you.”

Roman hadn’t been able to spend most of their first pregnancy with Abe and was clearly traumatized by losing Adrian before their kids were born. Every little thing Abe did was wrong according to Roman and it was driving him up the wall. Each meal was planned down to the smallest ingredient according to a dietician Roman had consulted. Abe couldn’t even keep track of all the pre-natal vitamins he’d been ordered to take and even the slightest injury sent Roman into a panic. Abe had smacked his head opening a cupboard in the kitchen and Roman had forced him to spend the entire rest of the afternoon with an ice pack so he could monitor his fiance for signs of a concussion. If Roman could get away with wrapping him in bubble wrap before sending him out into the world he would. Abe was starting to see why his mother and Lucy enjoyed going to work so much. It was the only place he could escape Roman’s good intentions. 

“See? The energy sticks together better like this,” Theo declared. “It’s not enough energy for a demon to be interested in, but the witches like to add it to their spells to make them more powerful.” He looked around him for either of his parents before speaking. “If I prick my finger and put it in the energy, the blood makes it strong enough to do harder magic. I’m not supposed to play with that until next year though. I read ahead in my textbook.”

“How much more powerful?” Wanda asked curiously, then caught herself before Theo could answer. “No, sorry I don’t need to know. You were born with your abilities. There’s good reasons for regular witches to avoid blood magic. Sorry, I was just curious.”

Theo shrugged and took the ball of energy into one of his hands. Within seconds, the entire ball had been absorbed into Theo’s hand, dissipating before Wanda’s eyes. She could see Theo’s eyes flicker slightly as his body processed the energy he’d absorbed. It may not have been enough energy to lure a demon with but Theo seemed satisfied with it.

“You can help me study for my exams at the end of the semester,” he offered. “My parents aren’t really any help and my sisters are just babies. You could probably understand most of it.”

“Sure, whatever I can do to help,” Wanda replied quickly, eager to walk through Theo’s exercises for herself. Spending more time with Theo meant learning to conjure things she’d only dreamed of and would have never had access to on her own. She was accepted in other countries as a political leader, but every time she approached a coven of witches, she was rudely turned away. Besides, it also meant Roman having to spend more time with her husband and maybe mending their fragile relationship before it shattered under the weight of past wrongs. She’d pushed Hunter into reconsidering some of the things he thought about his nephew, and she was hoping that Abe might do the same for Roman.

“Hey! Roman! Ginny here wants to talk to you about your dead mom!’

Lucy’s voice called across the lot, alerting everyone on the street along with its intended recipient. She’d arrived with her group of Rivales minions and surprisingly her daughter as well.

Abe took this opportunity to take Roman up on his suggestion to lie down. If his sister was here with Kaeileen and Ginevra, he would take his chances inside away from whatever drama was about to unfold.

To Roman’s surprise, his uncle joined him on the porch to welcome their guests. Roman didn’t know why Hunter had any interest in their visitors, but it was always helpful to have someone else around to throw in Lucy’s path as you escaped.

“Lucy, could you maybe not scream at the top of your lungs about my mother?” Roman asked with a sigh. “Our useless police force just charged her with another murder and people are going to freak out if you keep bringing her up.”

“Hey Ginny,” Hunter said quickly, shifting his weight awkwardly like a teenager at a school dance. “You look good. I mean, you seem good. I mean, you-”

Hunter averted his eyes from the plunging neckline on the skimpy dress his ex was wearing, only to realize that he was now accidentally ogling her butt instead. Things between him and Ginevra had imploded years ago when he caught her cheating on him, but he couldn’t deny that despite the hurt, the attraction was still there.

“Here,“ Ginevra interrupted before Hunter could stammer anything else embarrassing. “When we were cleaning up one of the rooms after the reno, we found a box of stuff with your mom’s name on it. I figured that you could maybe give it a home. If you wanted it that is.”

“Y-you should probably just burn that and be done with it,” Roman stammered, backing away from the box. “Why would anything of my mother’s be in the Rivales house? This is probably some trap that will spring open the minute I touch it.”

Ginevra rolled her eyes dramatically and smacked the side of the box for effect.

“I already went through it,” she sighed. “It’s just some paintings. Not even naughty or expensive ones.”

“Well, I can see that you haven’t changed,” Hunter remarked bitterly by the door. “Always looking to cheat people if you can.”

“They look like she was studying a famous Strangetown artist and mimicking her style,” Ginevra continued, ignoring her ex’s remarks. “I visit Strangetown a lot for concerts, so I have a few Romana Rivales prints at home myself and your mom’s brushwork is just as good as hers. She picked some weird subjects to capture though. I can’t say that I’m a fan.”

“Otherwise you would have kept them for yourself or sold them off,” Hunter sniped. “If these had any value, you wouldn’t be dumping them off on Roman.”

“I hear that murderers sometimes sell art they make in prison,” Lucy supplied helpfully. “With a new murder charge and scarcity high because of her supposed death, Roman could probably turn a decent profit if he found the right market for them.”

“Thanks, Lucy,” Roman replied curtly, grabbing the box from Ginevra’s arms. His mother’s troubled art could wait for another time. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to dwell on the past.

“Have you been working out? You look kinda flabby,” Ginevra teased, pinching Hunter’s arm. “Are you working on getting that dad bod before your kid is even born? I like a man with some meat on his bones.”

Roman recoiled in horror at the look that passed between his uncle and Giovanni’s baby sister. There wasn’t an inch of fat on Hunter, but he seemed to be enjoying the comment all the same.

Since finding out that Elaine was his uncle’s birth mother, Roman wasn’t sure how to label feelings that dealt with Hunter. Should he be disgusted and appalled at Abe’s half-brother’s wandering gaze or at his father’s adopted brother’s look of interest in his old flame? Either way, it was gross to watch and Roman wanted no part in continuing this reunion.

“Uncle Hunter, give me a hand with that box and we’ll put it in my office,” he said with a small sigh. At least he wasn’t the only one to embarrass the Bellamy family. “Lucy, Abe’s upstairs having a nap. If you’re here to bother him, come back later.”

[comehomeducklings]

Present [Part 1] (Obsession)

A/N: Please don't copy, redistribute, and/or post my work on this site or any others. This has taken my time and creativity to come up with the story's characters and plot.

Also, I swear my writing gets better. It's a little rough right now but I'm planning on rewriting them.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1943 ~ 6th year

No sound above whispers could be heard throughout the great hall. The food on the table hasn't been touched by a single hand. The very thought of eating churning all our stomachs. Not during these times. Our heads turn every now and then, afraid of what might sneak up behind us. The death of Myrtle and others has shaken the entire school. A murderer is among us, trust is such a foreign concept now.

Dark purple eye-bags lay beneath every single student's eyes. No one is allowed to go home for the holidays. They aren't allowing us to leave, we are stuck in this cloud of darkness and uncertainty. No owls are supposed to be sent out. As the head girl, I'm responsible for every student's life and responsibilities. I have to know where everyone is at all times. It gets tiring at times, but necessary nonetheless.

A nightly routine consisted of all my dormmates huddling around each other. No sleep would come to us all night. We wouldn't move from the same spot until light shown from the windows. Our beds are all pressed together in the farthest corner of the room from the door. Our wands never leaving our hands in case of danger. Every little sound made from the outside provoking us. Even to the point of going mad. Potions used to stay awake, slowly wearing off as the morning arose. No sleep, we can't afford that luxury anymore.

I would leave the dorm to wait at the portrait for our assigned house professor to come. They would tell me it was safe for everyone to head to the great hall to get breakfast. As soon as they were done I quickly went to everyone's dormitory to wake them up, if they even slept at all. I would then inform them that it was safe to step out of their dorms. After everyone got situated I would have the students form a line and lead them towards the great hall. 1st-3rd years would occasionally hold the folds of my robes. Fearing that when they blink I would be gone. Leaving them alone to deal with the dangers that lurk in the school.

Not once have I lied about how they are going to be all right. That would be cruel. These students don't seek pathetic nurturing words, they want a protective force watching over them. So many clubs and activities have been canceled. Hogsmede and quidditch proving as a prime example. No one complained though, quidditch players too afraid to even step out of the castle's walls even if they were allowed.

Back to the present, I hold my good friend's hand as she slightly shakes from anxiety. I can see it in her eyes, the doubt of making it alive eating away at her brain. The spark once present in her shiny green eyes being blown out. Amelia, her name being. She's been biting her nails again, to the point where it had bled. This can be backed by the dried-up blood that is present at the tip of her finger's nail.

A booming voice can be heard, "You are now being dismissed to head to class, your houses head girl and boy will be assigning the group you'll be heading off with."

First period has been removed from every perfect and head's schedule. During this time we search the whole castle for any wanders. We make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. If someone got lost or went to the wrong class we escort them to where they need to be.

After every class, students have a limited amount of time to get to their next lesson. Although, perfects and heads get more time to make sure everyone is where they are needed quickly. Then we hurry to our class after scanning the halls swiftly.

The once safest school of the wizarding world giving birth to the dark ages. More bodies have been found littering the schools. Most of them not found until their ghosts appear before us. Every single one not knowing how they died. Like the murderer is invisible upon meeting the victim. I originally suggested it could have been done by poison. When the bodies were checked, no traces of poison had been traced.

Professors have been waiting for the person who is responsible to slip up, to give us a clue. I don't think that will happen though. The process of these killings has been too thought out and well planned. I wouldn't be surprised if these mass killings have been planned months before, even maybe years. I've been talking to the ghosts to try and gather all details, even the potentially useless ones. When our headmaster made us heads keep tabs on everyone, the killings stopped for a short amount of time. It was like the mastermind was creating a way to best us, to get past the "little inconvenience." It didn't take long for them to find the weak parts in the plan.

What we have got though, is that every single student killed has been a muggle-born. A classic case of an unfair stigma around the poor wizards and witches. They never were able to catch a break. Amelia, one of my close friends in the friend group. She's a muggle-born, hence the shaking of her hands. I've been keeping a closer eye on her, she doesn't leave my side. She comes on my patrols so I can keep her in my sights, with of course the permission of the teachers. There are only two times that I can not watch over her. Those two times are covered by my other friend Devyn, a pure-blood. She also helps keep her safe, not letting her go anywhere by herself. The two times are because she's in two different classes than I am. One of them being a study hall.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

"Professor, how will this class help us now? Reading teacups for predictions should be the least of our worries right now," a student at the back of the room exclaims.

"The said predictions could lead us to the future before it happens. Our worries lay exactly what will happen in the future. If anything, this is one of the most important classes we'll take this year," I say, continuing to read the teacup.

"Precisely, thank you. Now go back to studying, I'll be coming around to view your interpretations."

My tea leaves look more like a blob with a cross going through them. A weirdly shaped blob. I already know there is a cross, but what about the blob? I tried shaking it a little, looking at the leaves from different angles. I already crossed off a club, falcon, and the sun. It could be an acorn, but I see a slight hole in the blob.

Could it be...

"A skull that is." I jump at the sudden voice near my ear. My teacup almost falling from my grasp.

"Pardon, a what?"

She points towards two holes in the blob, one of them I just mentioned, "I saw you already found one hole, there's the other. How it's shaped could be a little difficult to see since the cross is through it, but it's there."

The professor takes the cup from my hand and lays it on her desk. Some of my classmates look at me in curiosity, but they soon lose interest and go back to their own tea leaves.

A cross and a skull, that sounds about right to how my school year is going so far. I scan my book to see exactly what they mean.

A skull, danger in your path.

A cross, trials and suffering.

"What d-did you find?" A Hufflepuff boy to my right asks.

I don't want to scare the poor boy, he's already frightened enough as it is. If my future got around to the school, everyone would start being concerned about me. I'll barely get any of my duties done if I didn't already get it taken away for my safety. Last thing I need right now is even more panic.

"Nothing much, the future is still a little foggy."

"That's, um, good. I couldn't really read mine either," he chuckles lightly, almost seemingly forced.

Our professor claps her hands together, "Class is dismissed, read up about your predictions if you haven't already. No homework today."

I gather my books and push in my chair. Right before I could reach the door where other students are waiting, the teacher stops me.

"I'll have to tell the headmaster about this, I shouldn't keep it a secret."

"No, please don't. If you must, only tell Albus. I can't have this messing anything up, I'll become vulnerable."

The professor looks around the room, her eyes wandering franticly. I'm sure I am asking a lot from her. I really need her to keep this a secret.

"Oh alright, you're my best student. I just would hate to see anything happen to you. I'm informing only Albus to see if he can keep an eye on you."

"Thank you so much, I swear I'll be careful." A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. I can't be worrying about my future when I have to worry about everyone else's.

I leave the classroom and start heading to my next class. Potions have always been one of my favorite classes. Mixing a bunch of toxins into a pot is a specialty of mine. I'm quickly scanning the halls for any wanderers, making sure everyone is at class. My feet take me to Potions in a hurry. I don't want to miss much, trying to make the class as informational as possible.

"You shouldn't be running, you still have 3 minutes of checking the school."

It's always him, I even tried changing routes to avoid him. His idiotic smirk, thinking he actually did something. All he did is waste my time and train of thought.

"I'm allowed to run Riddle, it's not a rule. I already checked the halls I was assigned, did you?" I really have no energy for this.

Tom peers down at me, somehow still wearing that infamous smile. Eyes bright, filled with mischief and knowledge.

"I have, double-checked as well. I'm sure you only checked once. Such irresponsible actions, I still wonder how you nabbed the head-girl spot."

I choose not to answer, not giving in to his baiting. Does he think I'm that stupid? That easily bothered by a simple test of my patience.

"You could have just said you wanted to walk me to class Riddle. No need to be shy with me."

"Shy, a concept I would not know of. Might as well bring you to class, since I'm heading there myself. Wouldn't want you to be in danger, since you consistently prove you can't handle a simple check of the hallways."

"I told you Tom-"

"Once is not enough, you should know that by now," he interrupts me, feigning a sudden serious facade on.

We start heading towards Slughorn's room. I'm a little behind his figure. Mostly looking down to make sure I don't step over his feet and fall. He sometimes walks with me, very confusing if I may say. Hating my skills, probably still hates me. You can often find us arguing if we are ever partners in class together. The usual game we play, how many questions can we get right by the end of class. Last time he won by one point, my sour mood not helping the atmosphere.

"You look rested, more than me at least," I smile tiredly. My whole body slightly sagging forward from exhaustion. He looks as proper as someone could be. His skin is a little pale though, brighter than usual. Almost like he was sick, his eyes look darker too. More sunken in, the shape of his skull more prominent. His looks still annoyingly well presented.

"Yes, you do look rather tired. I see other things have prioritized above your looks."

This man, the audacity of this man. The only reason I'm not at the top of every class. Our number 1 student count being evenly split. I have to bite down on my tongue forcefully to not say anything back. I'm too tired to truly come back with anything witty, so I choose to save myself from the embarrassment. Instead, I slightly step on his robe on the ground causing him to trip up a little.

He quickly sends a warning glare my way and then continues walking. I smile slightly, knowing even if it was petty, it was worth it.

Riddle doesn't even hold the door for me when we walk in. Causing it to slam dangerously close to my face.

"There you two are, I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Slughorn exclaims excitedly. "Turn your textbooks to page 246, we are going to learn how to make a Polyjuice potion!"

I glance at Tom, his eyes only focus on the words before him not realizing my gaze is on him. I wonder if he'll make this a competition as well. Knowing him, as well as me, anything but competition is out of our character. He looks up catching my eyes, I tilt my head. Trying to silently communicate from afar.

His head turns to Slughorn, then back to me. He nods his head and that's all it takes for both of us to come to an understanding. Whoever can answer the most questions, and create the best potion gets bragging rights.

I don't intend to lose.

[spyder-m]

Cloti Fall Festival, Day 1: “Suspension”

@clotiweek​ Day 1: Tender Feelings/Resilience

Ao3 / ff.net / ko-fi

Summary: Post-AC. Cloud finally telling Tifa, with words, that he loves her. Written for Day 1 of the Cloti Fall Festival, "Tender Feelings/Resilience".

A/N: Originally got the idea for this from a prompt generator. While I quite like it, I feel I could have gotten more out of it and might revisit. Though, my entry for tomorrow will be something of a continuation of this, so I could expand upon it more. I also couldn't think of a good title, so I ended up going with the name of a song by Mae which I think is quite fitting lyrically. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

.

There had been a time, not so long ago, when Tifa had assured him that words weren't the only way.

In the moment, it had held true. With their clash against Sephiroth imminent and their future uncertain, they weren't afforded the time to carefully gather the words that could explain how they felt. They couldn't make sense of the turmoil the planet was facing and ultimately, nothing they could say would change it.

Any words they could muster would feel forced and alien.

In the end, all they could rely on was the easy, familiar comfort they found in one another.

The physical affection they shared, manifestations of their feelings and urges, guided by the adrenaline that fuelled them. The desperate need to hold onto one another and reassure themselves that their remaining last traces of home were safe.

It seemed apt that only through could they best convey those feelings. It was where they had both always excelled, after all, as fighters.

Two years on, Cloud wasn’t so sure if that alone was enough.

He couldn't understate the importance of his actions. They gave strength to his words, forging them into something meaningful. For one, his childhood promise to Tifa would never have held the same weight if he hadn't been able to save her.

Yet, in that respect, there had also been times when had fallen short, arriving just a few seconds too late to help. It left with a flash of doubt, wondering if his words were good enough. If Tifa could truly have faith in them, alone.

Still, for as much as he felt through their fleeting brushes of affection, it seemed as though there was so much being left unsaid. Throughout the day, Tifa had taken to resting her hand against his bicep, rubbing tenderly at the skin; tracing the point where the blemishes and seeping wounds from his Stigma had once lingered.

As her eyes sought his, clouded fleetingly by an almost imperceptible flash of doubt, he would offer a simple no; a reassurance that he was alright, the affliction that tore him away from their home was no longer. It seemed to quell her fear, even if only momentarily. Though it became a habit she would fall back to.

Cloud wanted things to be perfectly clear, so that those doubts could be forever cast aside and felt that perhaps giving words to his actions could better shape the meaning behind them, his hopes and wishes for their future together.

It was something Cloud wanted, and felt that Tifa deserved.

Though, he wasn’t sure where to even start.

There was so much history, so many hopes and feelings he’d have to condense down into a few, simple words. The thought of trying to narrow it down, of where to even start was… overwhelming.

This might have been easier for someone like Zack or Aerith, who were both so open and sure of themselves. Their presence would be useful to right now, even if only for one last piece of advice.

But Cloud knew that he needed to let them go. He couldn’t keep holding onto the past.

The bar was completely still as finally Cloud entered, greeted by the sight of chairs stacked atop tables, the low hum from the fridge, a tap dripping behind the counter. Just as he had suspected, it was well past closing time.

A lone light shone from beneath the stairwell, just behind the bar, guiding a clear way through. Even knowing his Soldier-enhanced senses, they had been kind enough not to leave him in the darkness. The small gesture enough made him feel to welcome, a sign that they expected his return. Though sadly, not enough to ease his disappointment at his late return.

Cloud had been hoping to see the kids off tonight. The time they were able to spend together; talking to them about his deliveries, or the sights he saw on the road; was precious to him. With his stigma gone, Denzel seemed much brighter and happier, something which brought Cloud immense relief; a sense that their efforts to help and look after him were not in vain.

Sadly, an abrupt shift in the weather had slowed his return journey, leaving him unable to make it home until well after dark. Though, he had fought to make it back as quickly as possible.

Locking the door behind him with a sigh, Cloud stripped away the buckles securing his pauldron and dirt skirt at the entrance, not wanting to leave a trail across the floor, before kicking of his boots. He padded slowly through the bar, wincing at the distinct squelch of his sodden pants, caked with rain and mud, as they brushed against his legs. 

As he began his ascent up the stairs, his eyes caught a distinct figure sprawled over the living room couch, one that might have been lost among the shadows to anyone else. But, Cloud's was drawn to the dark locks splayed out in stark contrast the lightly coloured cushions and throws, the flash of pink still fixed over her bicep.

Cloud tip-toed carefully across the living room floor, taking in her serene expression, the soft wisps of her breath caressing stray locks of hair from her face as he approached.

He was surprised to find Tifa sleeping there. He had taken the time to call Seventh Heaven before the storm broke, telling her that it would likely set his arrival home back and not to wait up for him.

Though, as if needing the assurance; still holding that last modicum of doubt that never quite seemed to dissipate; she had stayed up, waiting to hear his return. 

Cloud couldn't help the pang of guilt he felt.

This time, he honestly planned to make it home before night fell. Before the kids left for bed or Tifa announced last call. Perhaps, most importantly, because there had been so much he finally wanted to say to her. But everything, it seemed, had been working against him.

Part of Cloud was overcome by the urge to take her in his arms and carry her to her room, worried that her sleep wouldn’t be the most comfortable on the couch. Yet, more selfishly, he grew conscious of his own fatigue, his cold, damp shirt that still clung to him like a second skin.

Cloud felt drawn by the shape of her, the scent of her hair. He was tempted to ease himself of the strain and burden of the day’s deliveries and bury himself amongst the warm cocoon of linen she had collected for herself; resolving that what he had to say could always wait until tomorrow.

But he knew it couldn’t.

They had waited far too long already.

Cloud had become so focused, devoted so much mental energy towards bracing himself for this moment, he couldn’t bear to hesitate now. All that mental preparation would have been harnessed for nothing.

Cloud’s hand reached out, tentatively, settling against her shoulder in a feather-light touch.

“Tifa.” He uttered softly.

Tifa sighed, sinking deeper into the caress of his fingers, basking in their soft touch. He lingered, tracing the smooth expanse of her skin before Tifa stirred, bleary eyes dragging toward him.

"Mm. Cloud?” She asked, voice thick.

“Nn. Tadaima.”

“O-okaeri.”

Cloud swallowed, feeling a tingle in his gut, struck by how endearing the entire scene was. Her dishevelled, unkempt hair, the quiet murmur of her voice. Tifa's head cocked, even in her drowsy state, noticing his reaction. Her carmine eyes, still misty with sleep closing in on him.

"Is something the matter?"

Cloud's gaze ripped away, powerless before those eyes, terrified they would compel him to spill every word on his tongue in a flurry.

That wouldn't do. This conversation was too important. He needed to take his time, get everything right.

Looking back, his lips curled into the subtle ghost of a smile, hoping to reassure her.

"No, it's fine."

“Well, if you're sure- Oh, Cloud! You’re soaked!"

Before he could protest, Tifa's hands had braced themselves against his chest, burying into the damp fabric of his vest.

"Are you feeling alright? Here, sit down. Let me heat you up something while you take off those wet clothes.”

Cloud’s heart swelled, overwhelmed by the love he felt for her. Despite the fatigue she obviously carried, Tifa remained selfless and attentive to his needs.

“Tifa, I’m fine." Cloud insisted, hands resting at her shoulders to hold her steady. He sought her eyes in the darkness, linking them with his own, soft and reassuring. "Really.”

Captured by his earnest expression, Tifa kept watch for a moment longer than necessary before her lips settled into a gentle smile. Hands stretching above her head, a yawn rose from the depths of her chest and Cloud could feel a flash of panic overtake him as she slipped from his grasp, turning to make her way out of the living room.

“Well, I’m glad that you made it back safely, Cloud. It’s pretty late, huh? We should probably get to bed. You’ll need to shower too. Can’t have you catching a cold-”

“T- Tifa!” His hand caught her wrist, urgently, keeping her in place. 

“Hm? What is it?”

Cloud swallowed as her gaze weighed upon him expectantly. For as desperate as he had been to keep her there, he found himself unsure of what to say.

“Thank you, Tifa. For everything.”

For a moment, Tifa stared blankly through him, taken aback by this sudden expression of gratitude.

“It's nothing, Cloud.”

As Cloud strode forward with purpose, his hands catching her cheek. His head dipped as his eyes poured deeply into hers, the sincerity of his words radiating through.

"Tifa, I want to stay with you."

Even with the softness of Cloud’s voice, it coursed through Tifa like an electric current, her eyes bulging as they focused on him in disbelief. There wasn’t a trace of ambiguity to his words, waking a burst of hope within her.

Despite the myriad thoughts surging through her, Tifa couldn’t bring herself to speak, fearing that she might halt his train of thought altogether. That she would never learn where this conversation lead. Cloud’s quiet tone urged Tifa closer, her breath catching and heart hammering through the shell of her ear as hung silently onto his words. 

"I want to be with you, and I don't just mean at home, as a family. I want to be by your side, always."

The words punctuated as he sought out her lips.

It had been years, but the taste and soft caress of her had been ingrained into his memory, a sensation he would forever savour. It was a warmth and weightlessness that flowed through his being, invigorating him, alleviating him of the reticence he had held before.

Expressing affection might not have always been a strong suit of his, but if there was anything Cloud was in confident in knowing, it was Tifa. He felt comfortable in allowing his instinct to guide him, arms surrounding her waist, pulling her closer and in the familiar shape of her body.

For as uncertain Cloud had been about aspects of his life in the past; his identity, the validity of his memories, their chances of survival; his feelings for Tifa had been a facet he could trust in without a doubt, a part of himself he had never truly lose connection to.

They never faltered. They kept him strong, much like the belief she placed in him. It was for that reason that the words carried from his lips as naturally as air.

"I love you, Tifa.” Cloud whispered as he broke away. A soft murmur, especially for her. 

[out-of-this-dimension]

Spooky SF Headcanons

Happy Spoopy Day~  Hope everyone is well.  I thought I could celebrate on here with some spooky headcanons!

Venom

Venom is considered to be a haunted, cursed place. There are remnants of several civilizations scattered across the planet, the most prominent being the ancient Cornerus and the far more recent failed Cornerian Settlement Project.

Not much is known about the Cornerus or what happened to them but their ruins still haunt Venom’s eerie landscape. There are rumors of ghosts that dwell within, wailing in a state of perpetual limbo with eyes that can invoke madness.  Usually these ghosts do not stray far from the old Cornerus cities but occasionally there have been sightings in the jungles.  Most sightings are usually laughed off fearfully-- people don’t want to admit there might be a nugget of truth to any of these rumors but the amount of people who have seen something paranormal in the wilds is incredibly high.

The Cornerian Settlement Project happened quite some time before the Lylat Wars, before even the time of James McCloud, Peppy Hare, and General Pepper.  The project was a colonization effort to start a third planetary hub that would function as a center of trade with planets further from Corneria, such as Sauria and Cerinia.  Back then, Venom had a different name, tentatively called “Eden”, though that name was quickly nixed after the Settlement Project.  Although some experts had already scoped Venom out and had reported high levels of toxins in the air, most of those reports were dismissed by settlers.  The sight that followed the settlers arriving was allegedly one so traumatic that the survivors immediately ran back onto the ships in horror.  As soon as the first group arrived, over half their number dropped dead on boarding ramp, their lungs clotted with airborne poisons.  The survivors wished to leave but eventually did decide to settle the proposed colony area on Venom.  However, within two years, the colony was abandoned, even after measures were taken to try to purify the air.  It is said that not only did the air make it hard to populate the land but there was an unnatural force that pushed the Cornerians out-- a force no one could see but could feel.  A force that would dismantle bits of their infrastructure and haunt their government officials at night.  After the Project failed, the planet’s name was switched to Venom and it was used as a place for exile.

Of course, Venom has seen plenty of civilizations who survived the toxic atmosphere -- namely reptilians who have long made their home amid the jungles.  Though reptiles are not entirely uncommon in the Lylat System, the varieties seen on Venom were viewed with apprehension, no doubt stemming from the fact that the planet itself seemed cursed, so everything that lived there also carried that same stigma.  From these early discoveries of Venomian reptiles came legends of alien-like beasts that would thrive in the dark jungles, abducting Lylatians and feasting upon their flesh.

Fichina

Not many people would consider Fichina to be a terrifying planet-- after all, it’s home to sights such as the aurora borealis.  However its harsh climate has led to some terrifying discoveries over the years.

Fichina’s north and south pole clock the coldest temperatures in all of Lylat, however that has not stopped people from trying to live there, even those without any expertise in living in such harsh conditions.  Climate control centers dot the planet’s surface, trying to stabilize some of the weather in an attempt to play God.  However, there have been several cases of these climate control centers failing, resulting in lives being lost as entire cities are covered in blizzards.  Alternatively, heating systems connected to the climate control center have been known to occasionally fail, resulting in the worst case scenario imaginable-- entire cities frozen, its denizens inside, lifeless.

Yet despite the freezing temperatures, arctic animals often make their home on Fichina.  When Corneria arrived at first to establish peaceful negotiations with the Fichinans, they spread across the planet’s surface, even venturing out to reclusive villages up north.  One military officer reported back to Corneria with a chilling report that they had found several villages that had been infected by a sickness of some sort, turning most of their citizens (arctic wolves) into mindless creatures running berserk.  The Cornerians destroyed the village and all who were within to keep the sickness from spreading, later attributing it to something found in a local set of mines.  This report was eventually leaked to the public and twisted by media.  Over time, these barbaric, berserker wolves became something of a cryptic legend and there are claims some of them even still exist to this day.

Aquas

Though a planet that looks like a gleaming sapphire in the midst of space, Aquas is a planet drowning in a bloody history and filled with dark secrets.

It is believed that the monstrosity Bacoon destroyed the north and south poles of Aquas, flooding the continents with water.  This is a tale that has been believed by Cornerians for some time... but no one has really discovered how this was possible.  There has been some research done into this legend to ascertain the truth but no one knows for certain how the giant clam was able to do this.  There have been, however, strange shrines spotted on the ocean floor.  Shrines that bear an uncanny resemblance to shrines found on Venom and Sauria.  Did Bacoon... have help?  And if it did, what happened to that help?  

After the defeat of Bacoon, Corneria opted to help the planet recover from all of the pollution Andross had dumped into its waters.  When they did, they also decided to explore the planet, scoping it out as a possible location for a colony.  The planet was perfectly fine, they believed, just covered in water-- nothing that they could not possibly work around.  However, as they searched the planet, they chose to dive into its depths.  Not only were they met with abyssal, dark waters but their scanners indicated an assortment of gargantuan things that lurked far, far below the water’s surface-- things that perhaps had not even seen the light in hundreds of years.  Although the colony project was given the greenlight, there were many scientists unsure if it should have been approved of at all.  Many beg the question if Bacoon was ever really alone down there.

Exploration into Aquas’s ruins have uncovered what may have been religious worship of Bacoon.  Worship that eventually was abandoned, resulting in the beast growing enraged.  Some of these depictions of worship include bloody sacrifices to the clam.

Eladard

Eladard’s surface is a nightmarish tangle of factories and cities, the planet’s environment completely disregarded. Eladard has become something of a junk planet, filled with graveyard-like dump sites.

Eladard’s capital city saw its fair share of strife after the planet was abandoned by wealthy Cornerians looking to profit off the planet.  The worst of its strife stemmed from its self-proclaimed mayor, who ruled the city with an iron fist and his own personal army of mobsters.  After he was dethroned and killed by mercenaries, his manor’s grounds were investigated.  Countless bodies were found on the site, some even taxidermied and kept in a trophy room.  The entire manor was burned to the ground and his body was allegedly burned with it.  The grounds now stand empty, just outside of town, charred.  Some folks have since tried to revitalize the area... but for some strange reason, nothing ever seems to grow there.  Not even grass.

Eladard’s clusters of factories have seen their fair share of work accidents.  From these accidents, occasionally there have been deaths.  And from these deaths have occasionally been ghost sightings-- usually late at night, from the graveyard shift.  Sometimes when the workers are packing up, they will swear they see their late coworkers, occasionally looking as though they are clocking in.  Other times, they can be seen across Eladard’s nightmarish landscapes, wandering about the factories aimlessly, as if they are unable to rest.

Space

Space... the final frontier some say.  But despite being beautiful, it is a silent, haunting place.

Tales of the unknown are common among pilots, particularly space-faring ones.  But one of the most haunting sights is near Sector Omega, where one of the final fights happened in the Lylat Wars.  It is said that there is a spaceship graveyard still out there, debris floating in limbo for all eternity.  It consists of both Cornerian and Venomian ships, abandoned by their respective sides and left to drift forever. 

Every so often within the asteroid belt of Meteo, pilots have reported a strange portal.  Of course not many dare approach it out of fear... but a few brave souls have, plunging into the unknown fearlessly.  They disappear within and usually are found days later, sometimes on the other side of the Lylat System, babbling about strange lights and even stranger noises.  Each of them has described a world where reality is distorted and the laws of physics don’t seem to make sense.  All of their descriptions are similar with a few tweaks here and there-- moons with sneering faces, comets made of rainbows, strange random objects floating about, and strange, terrifying creatures lurking within.  Each and every account ends with the pilot being led to safety by something they can only describe as “the Whale”.  It should be noted that all of the pilots have experienced some sort of psychosis from prolonged exposure to this strange dimension and have all been needed to be hospitalized.  Cornerian officials from the CDF have looked into the matter but the findings have not been made public.

[the100epic]

Mackson meta

I love the relationship between Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller on The 100 and am in the mood to do a bit of meta, just to answer the questions ‘Who are they and what makes them work as a couple?’ Given their limited screen time, it was fun to mine what I could from limited material. First, a disclaimer - I’m only on episode 5 x 8.  

Looking at Jackson first, and starting with a few obvious things. He’s an adult when we first meet him, and he already has a good sense of purpose.  He’s a born healer. He’s quiet.  He is very serious, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders –given his limited time in front of the camera, we don’t know how often (or if) he lets his guard down and laughs. He probably puts the needs of others before his own – think of 5 x 2 when Abby tells him she’s happy for him (because he has Miller), and he immediately turns it around to ask how she is and express concern for her. He lost his mother, possibly when he was young, and it’s obvious that Abby has been his mother-figure for a long time. (Check the tears in his eyes in 1 x 1 when Kane is trying to float Abby). He decides to take the chip in Season 3, probably feeling desperate for a route towards ending the suffering of other people, something he always tries to do but can never succeed at.

 We don’t know if he’s ever been in another relationship before Miller. Maybe he has; he’s got to be at least 23 years old before the time jump and there had to have been some interested parties on the Ark. Or maybe he hasn’t; he’s clearly been working constantly ever since he’s been able to, so maybe he would have felt guilty for pursuing romance. However, I lean towards thinking that he has been in a relationship before. He is the one who makes the first move on Miller in Season 4, suggesting that he has some experience and confidence in this arena.

 We have more material on Miller (though still not enough). He is younger when the show starts, and I feel his personality was not yet fully developed or defined back then. Partially because of limited screen time, and partially because he is under 18 when the show starts and he just has some natural growing up to do. What we do see is that he has a sense of humor (such as during the ghost stories conversation with Bryan and Harper), and he appears loyal to Bellamy. Part of that loyalty is undoubtedly due to the fact that he is trying to do what all of The 100 is trying to do -  whatever it takes to survive. Miller does a good job of getting in with Bellamy’s group and being seen as a good foot soldier/ good lieutenant to Bellamy. This theme replays itself throughout the series; he is always a good solider, and in Season 5 it is the other Blake for whom he is a good lieutenant.

 We know three things about Miller’s time on the Ark.

1.    He has a father who loves him

2.    He has a boyfriend named Bryan

3.    He was arrested for stealing

 My head-canon is that his theft had to do with stealing a gift or something for Bryan, but there’s nothing in canon to back that up. We do know from season 2 that Miller is ashamed of what he had done, ashamed for having let his father down. We don’t know how long he was incarcerated before being sent down to earth, but you can be sure that he’s had plenty of time to think about the ramifications of his actions.

 We can also infer that he was training to be in the guard, like his father, back on the Ark. Miller’s too good of a solider by the time he gets to the ground for him to not have had some training.

 Before we can get to Mackson as a couple, I need to take a glimpse at “Briller” – Miller and his ex Bryan. They’re reunited in Season 3, and it must have been hard for them; at one point they surely must’ve thought they’d never see each other again. On top of that, there are serious, major life experiences that they do not share (Season one’s war with the Grounders, Miller’s experiences as a captive in Mount Weather just for starters). As far as we can tell, the two young men do try to make it work, which indicates to me that Miller likes being in a relationship, likes having someone to love. When Bryan is up on the Ark, Miller never cheats on him despite knowing that he might never see him again. Unlike with Finn, perhaps the opportunity never presented itself but this still suggests that one of Miller’s qualities is loyalty.

 My favorite conversation of Briller’s occurs at the end of Season 3 when they spend a minute dreaming of their future, thinking of how they’d love to have a farm and chickens. It gives a great glimpse into Miller’s head. He probably is a solider because he has to be, but he dreams of peace. During those years in the bunker, his dream of living on a farm must’ve felt even more remote than ever, though at least he had a man he loves to dream alongside.

 We never get the full story on why it didn’t work out with Bryan. Was it due mainly to their disagreement on how to handle the Azgeda slaves or was that just one factor among others? (That debate – freeing the slaves versus getting the equipment they need to survive - does deserve some more analysis which I won’t get into here). We can only speculate as to whether that was the main reason for the breakup, or if other reasons presented themselves. Given what we do see with Mackson though, I wonder if Bryan and Miller were just too similar.

 Because I see some good yin and yang with Mackson. Miller’s words in 5 x 2 to Jackson give us a great clue: “You’re a healer, not a fighter. That’s why I love you.” So we can add up the ways Jackson and Miller’s differences complement each other:

1.    The fighter and the healer

2.    Miller’s sense of humor contrasted with Jackson’s seriousness (Miller gets a rare smile out of Jackson in 4 X 9 during their scene in the rover)

3.    Miller’s impulsiveness contrasted with Jackson’s clinical detachment

4.    Possibly their age gap as well, with Jackson’s maturity being a plus for Miller. Remember that Miller’s father dies at the end of Season 4, right at the time that Mackson is taking off. I doubt Miller views Jackson as a father-figure in any way, but I do think Jackson’s maturity and ability to deal with other people’s pain provided a lot of balm for Miller. This experience had to have helped bond them.

 But for a relationship to work, the partners can’t be too different. There have to be similarities too. Here are some Mackson ones:

1.    They grew up with love. Miller’s dad and Jackson’s mom (whom we know less about, but we can infer a lot given the impact she made on his life) showed them love.

2.    This trait is usually viewed as a negative, but the truth is that both Miller and Jackson are followers, not leaders. Miller follows whoever is their military leader (Bellamy, Octavia, etc) and Jackson follows Abby. Being a follower carries stigma, but the flip side of that coin is that both are very loyal. And maybe it means they are smart survivors, knowing that if you want to stay alive, it can’t hurt to hitch your wagon to an alpha.

3.    Both are driven. Miller knows he made a mistake on the Ark, and he worked his butt off to survive on the ground and prove himself a valuable solider. And there’s no need to reiterate how driven and self-motivated Jackson must be in order to devote his life to healing.

4.    Every single character on The 100 has made morally questionable choices, and I need to point out that Mackson are no different. Even Jackson was willing to experiment on “Baylis” in Season 4, and was about to do so to Emori. You can see the agony in his eyes, but we do not get any lines of dialog to indicate that he spoke out or offered himself in their places (which Abby would never have accepted). They both have to live with their demons and their regrets like every other character on the show.

  Here’s something I wish I knew more about:  When Mackson first gets together, they were facing – as Miller quips – “fiery death in five days”. Their relationship could’ve easily been a fling and nothing more – just one last sexual encounter before the world ends, perhaps? I wonder when it became more, or whether it was always intended to be more than a fling. The next time we see them together, the five days have passed, Praimfaya is upon us, and they are clearly a couple (as we see in 4 x 12 – there are SO many looks and touches, including an unexplained, secret hand gesture, the type of move done by intimate couples). Did they have in-depth conversations to discuss what might happen if they both somehow survived Praimfaya? I can definitely see Jackson being the type who would want to think about and discuss this. Or did they realize that there was a good chance that one or both of them wouldn’t make it, and thus tacitly decide that the topic was just too painful to discuss? Maybe they just took the approach of living for the moment and hoping for the best? (And next, of course, would come the moment that they woke up from the gas and had to face the fact that Miller’s dad wasn’t chosen, and they would have to process that).  

 Also I wish I knew more about what prompted Jackson to make the first move. I suspect some fans view him as passive, given his interactions with Abby, his quiet demeanor. So I will always love the fact that he made the first move. Was it motivated solely by Praimfaya? Did Abby at some point tell Jackson that Miller was single now and that he should approach Miller? Was it something that Jackson had quietly wanted to do for a while? (Maybe he noticed Miller even back when Bryan was still a thing). Had Miller been giving him a few signals to let him know that he was open to something? Was Jackson lonely and just wanting to reach a deeper connection (whether it be sex or a relationship) with another human being, especially given what they were facing in Season 4? Or some combination of the above?

 No way of knowing this glimpse of their past, but I look forward to their future.

[peytonsbookshelf]

I’ll Give You The Sun: a review

Oh my Clark Gable, this is the most beautiful book I have ever read. Not only does Jandy Nelson bring the characters to life with the most realistic character development I have ever read, she makes them flawed in a way that would usually hit too close to home. Her characters make the same types of mistakes I do, and I realized that if I can still love them, I can still love myself for doing those same things.

The story follows twins Noah and Jude Sweetwine; the years when they are 13--14 are narrated by Noah, and the year they are 16 is Jude’s to tell. They are torn apart by tragedy, and essentially become what they never wanted to. In a way, they become each other. Jude remarks that her mother probably wouldn’t be able to pick either of them out in a lineup, and I think that is just a wonderful way to show how much they’ve changed. 

Noah draws and paints constantly, even in his head most of the time, and he is his mother’s muse. Everything is great. But then one day, he meets Brian Connelly, and everything gets greater. They’re falling head-over-heels for each other, and both experience the stigma that usually comes with being gay--but they get through it. A good portion of Noah’s thoughts come out as concepts for drawings, which possibly tells us more about what he’s feeling than actual words would. 

While Noah is remaking the world, Jude is kissing boys, surfing enormous waves, and jumping off cliffs into the ocean. The majority of it boils down to the same thing: she wants her mother to notice her. I never thought I would see myself so much in a character and love her all the same. In the earlier years, she had a lot of friends and was essentially who I wish I could be; in the later years, her only friend is the ghost of grandmother. Right before Grandma Sweetwine died, she left her Bible in Jude’s possession. It’s full of whimsical superstitions and ancient family wisdom, and Jude’s chapters are riddled with passages from the book. 

If this book were written by someone other than Nelson, I doubt it would be half as enchanting as it is. She writes in colors and concepts and feelings, and she gives Noah synesthesia without ever saying that he has synesthesia. Every part from both characters chapters connects with the other, leaving no room for plot holes; this book is the ultimate giver of hope for anyone who has lost faith in the universe. The two characters are so unique that I wouldn’t be surprised if they were written by two different people. It’s a bit like Jude and her dresses.

In conclusion, I give this book 5 stars. I’ve read it countless times, and I even own three copies of it, yet every time I read it, I am still wonderstruck and how beautiful everything is.

[polyputthekettleon]

She did it!

A tale of starting HRT that quickly devolves into a navel-gazey ramble in which I try to figure out the mess in my head.

Last night, I went with my darling girl to her follow-up appointment to get started on estrogen. She was bouncing as she came out of the clinic -- beaming, so very very happy. And then we went and picked up sushi so the pharmacy would have time to process her prescription, and then we headed over to get her pills.

I have never seen her as peaceful than in that moment after she took that first little tiny tablet. She was so, so very happy, so confident in this next step. I have no doubt at all in my mind that she is on the right path.

Meanwhile, how am I doing?

I think I'm okay. Honestly. I will say, I got teary in the doctor's office when she and the doctor discussed how this could result in chemical castration and how she had been planning on a vasectomy soon anyway, because I want to have a baby with her. I really, really do. But my life isn't at all in a place to pursue that...I would want to live with her, or at least next door. And I'm not fully ready to risk losing what I have with J... I don't think. 

Hmm. On further inspection, I don't know.

My therapist recommended I sit with my desire to live with D. That if that's what I truly want, that knowledge will grow and grow and grow, until I can't stand avoiding saying it any longer.

I think I'm reaching that point. Seeing her every day these past couple weeks feels unbelievably good, even if just for a few minutes. That said, we're accomplishing that without moving in together right now, so what's the rush?

Well, obviously if I wanted to have a baby with her that was biologically hers, that would be the rush.

Ugh.

Do I really want another baby?

How much do I really want another baby? And does it need to be **her** baby??

Pros of living with D and possibly of having another baby, possibly with her:

My child would have a sibling plus D's other children as a sort of step-siblings. I would get to have the experience of relaxing into my parenting since I would theoretically know what I'm doing on the second time around, and I would likely not have to work during my second child's babyhood. Having a baby with D in particular would be a great way to tell the system to fuck off, especially if J could actually support that plan. Getting to raise my children with three parents sounds absolutely amazing. Getting to have a larger roll in D's children's lives would also be really cool (and this would happen regardless of second baby status on my end) -- I love them already, and I imagine I'd love them even more with time {while simultaneously wishing, forever and ever, that she didn't have FIVE fucking children 😱😬.)

Cons:

The whole thing could blow my life up in my face. This feels really soon in the grand scheme of things, both to be deciding to have a child with D given that we've only known each other for two and a half years, and for J to even have a ghost of a chance of actually being willing to go along with any part of this. Even if he was willing to give living next door a try (and never fucking mind, “Hey father of my first child I want to have another baby but not with you; with this person who you fucking *hated* two years ago and still have a so/so relationship, but I want you to socially also be a dad to that child...”), it feels like a big, big ask. Laughably big. Like, I’m-an-idiot-if-I-ask-this big.

Of course, there are the other cons, EVEN IF J was somehow on board with everything: likely having to move out of this most perfect neighborhood away from my dear friends, restarting the whole "raising a child" thing again, the presence of so many more kids in my currently only child’s life fundamentally changing how she experiences parental connection, those kid’s own baggage and socialization and it negatively impacting the environment that I am working to cultivate, my ability to pursue my art (though hey, I’m not getting any done *now*, either...  all the way up to the social pressure and stigma around what would be an unusual family no matter what, and the likely social uproar if I pursued my ideal of having babies with different partners and raising them all in community together with many parents. (It sounds so simple and lovely from here. Why does it feel so impossible to achieve?)

How much of those cons matter to me? What sparks joy, what doesn’t, and what’s actually just my taming talking?

D sparks joy. She is incredible and I adore her and I want her in my life every single day. She came over the other night, for a hug and a kiss before she headed to her apartment, and ended up staying to join a video call with [I don’t know if I’ve assigned her a letter; my god I need to update the cast of characters page, or maybe change it to posts... it’s so fucking out of date right now] and J for a bit, and when she sat down with me and petted me... oh good god I just melted into butter. I had the biggest, BIGGEST grin on my face, and kept snuggling into her, because that was what felt good. The way she touches me, the way she cares for me... I want to her to be my wife, to put that formal label on our connection. I used to want to call her my husband, and I’ve recently been longing to call her my wife, and it's honestly been getting harder to resist doing so recently. I'm going to propose to her, I’ve decided. I'm just trying to work out the timing on when, but I feel like I want it to be soon, like within the next month. I will want to tell J first, and that is the thing that I'm considering quite a bit within this: at what point does my desire for D as my wife eclipse my desire for J's acceptance and love? Because I truly feel that I would be risking that. (This is also good time to insert that I am definitely nervous about how much/if she changes much as a person on HRT. What if one day I don't like her any more?? Do I need to wait for that process to be further along before I make big changes in our relationship? If so, then that almost certainly means an end to the idea of having a biological baby together... though that also wouldn't be the end of the world... and maybe that's my sign that I don't actually need to have another baby, that it doesn't feel imperative? Then again, having my first child didn't feel imperative either. I did it for practicality, because I knew I wanted to be a parent. This feels like I want to raise a baby surrounded by the kind of love and support that is accessible to me now, and to see D as another mother to my children.)

All of this raises the question: how small do I want to stay? For how long? My not telling C things is absolutely me choosing to stay small. I'm watching D grow and bloom into her joyful truth, and as unjust as it is, part of her embracing her truth means risking her acceptability in society's eyes, her livelihood, and her safety.

Meanwhile, I don't want to hurt, and I don't want to be alone. But it's not me who wants to leave J, it's J whom I fear would want to leave me. I recognize that I am trying to maintain control of the emotional situation. I recognize that I am hanging back in hopes that he can catch up and heal enough to be able to step forward with me. Am I allowing him to do his work? Am I letting him climb into his car seat or am I making my life less stressful by continuing to lift and strap him in even though he's capable of that work himself? (And if he's just too fucking damaged right now to be able to do it, does it help for me to provide support and scaffolding or am I keeping him from being able to begin that healing process?)

My life and family with J sparks joy. I love that he is our child's father. I love his cooking, his sense of humor, his work ethic. I love his smell and his eyes and his excitement in his work. I love our history together, and I love what we've built in the past three years and how much healthier we are.

What doesn't spark joy is feeling like I'm shrinking myself to fit inside of J's tolerance. Nothing that I want is wrong or bad. Unconventional, for sure. But not bad.

I want to feel loved and embraced. I want to live authentically as a way to honor myself and as an example for child. I want to honor my needs as much as I honor others' needs. I want to feel peace and joy in my relationships, not strain.

I'm going to need to talk this shit over with my therapist - thank goodness I have an appointment soon. I feel like this could wind up to be something big, something really big, and I'm feeling the need for some steadying and head checks.

[riczi-vengeance]

Legacy of Anti (Chapter 6)

In a dusty room with practically no exquisite furniture, Lena stood motionless minding her own business. She was observing the dust hovering in the air, staring blankly at a dirty table. She grabbed some old piece of clothing from the chair and some bottled water, poured a little over the fabric and begun to clean the stains. The girl was doing it casually and her thoughts were somewhere else. She took a quick glance at the Jack who still remained in a bed. The boy flinched as if he was waiting for her to say something mean or inconvenient. He leaned forward giving Lena the most meaningful look she'd ever seen, waiting for her to speak up and finally explain him what was going on. As Lena was putting down the piece of  cloth she came a little closer and sighed. ~Fine... So here's the story: For many years Anti is haunting me in my visions. Recently they intensified so much that I can't even predict the future a hundred percent accurately but every prediction came true so far. Tha fact is that Mark and Darkiplier are something like Hulk, you know the one from the comic books, but he doesn't turn green so that's the only difference.. Well except the one time when Aygee cooked him soup he doesn't... She smiled a little hoping that Jack wouldn't notice but after a moment she got all serious all over again. ~In a vision there is always You fighting with Anti but I can't see much more cause according to this vision I'm saving your life and then I die and that's why I'm clueless if it comes to knowing what would happen with my family, you, Aygee or Mark. In a movies or those books for teenagers there's always this motive that you die but at least everyone else is safe and sound. I guess it's all about some fucking, noble sacrifice but in my case it's rather like stalemate. Jack was planning on saying something but as soon as he opened his mouth he hasitated leaving himself with the ''O'' expression on his face for a little while.  He put a hand on his face making him look like the philosofer was having a breakthrough. The man was thinking about something appropriate to say but came up with nothing as Lena cut off his process of thinking: ~I know. Now You're about to say something like 'Ooh don't save me, I'm not worth it'. So here's the thing: If I die in this fight I problably will still be able to help but as a ghost according to the black book. But seriously I doubt that. Those are only singular notes in a book with many missing pages. Jack sighed, staring carefully at Lena. He patted the area of bed beside him, inviting a girl to sit with him, because he knew it would be rather longer conversation than he hoped it to be. He moved the bedsheets, making a space for his new friend and cover his leg a little with them. As Lena sat down beside him closer than he expected he could feel the funny tingling pressure inside his stomach.  He gave himself a little time to breathe in and out before speaking cause he suspected that his voice could break down at this particular moment. He placed his hand on Lena's lap stroking it gently. He was compassionate and he also tried to annouce it by his tone of speaking. ~What about your family? Mark mentioned something about them. What exactly is up with them? Will they be ok? ~Yeah, my sister and my parents are under Anti's control. And here I am like the black sheep in this family. I have no idea why is this all up to me. And honestly, I have no idea if they will ever be ok. Lena said it with such a sadness that almost made her eyes wet. She looked away expecting that Jack wouldn't pay attention to it and that he will just ignore it. Unluckily for her, he noticed this tiny emotional breakdown of Lena's. He reached out to caress her face and wipe away her tears. He tried his best to make it look platonically, because he just lost his girlfriend and here he would be trying to hit on another girl he barely knew, showing his sensibility? He moved his hand quickly, grinning awkwardly. He licked his lips and grabbed the glass of water that was beside him on a night stand to cool himself down a little. When Lena finally got a grip of her feelings he added:

~Don't worry. I am caught up in this mess, this shit I might say even more than You are as far as I concluded. My father is an actual demon or rather some dick who killed my girlfriend and kidnapped your family... Lena acquiesced, leaning her head onto Jack's arm. As she did that the sesation of a thousand grenades exploding in his stomach haunted him again. He felt uncomfortable with his own thoughts. He couldn't take it anymore. Jack trembled a little and stood up. The girl followed his lead, doing exactly the same. He exhaled sharply tilting his head, grabbing Lena's chin. He looked her deep in the eyes and was leaning for a kiss while he noticed a little glimpse of a green in her grey eyes, the exactly same green as his damaged eye. He boggled as the girl panted in pain ~Jack, I... Before she could say a word, the misterious wave of some unknown energy flowed through the entire cabin. Aygee and Mark despite being in kitchen had felt the stange steam. They rushed to see what's happening and all they saw was Lena lying unconscious on the floor and Jack who was thrown away by the peculiar occurrence to the other side of the room. Aygee kneeled before Lena and was checking her vital signs, whereas Mark was helping Jack to stand up, waiting for some answers. He noticed something weird about Jack and stood there flabbergasted. He barely could speak and with a broken down voice he managed to utter: ~Fuck, mate! I don't know what happened here a while ago but you are glowing like a child from Chernobyl. Maybe there's something you are not telling us, hiding from us, I don't know and I don't know if I want to. Whatever it is, man, You can tell us, we're not judgy here. Dude, my girlfriend is like a wand that detects different kinds of shit and tries to destroy it and her friend is a oracle and me? Well i can be really not cool and I don't even have power over this but if something shitty is up with you then it's better for you not to lie about it. Jack felt truly confused at the moment and didn't have any answer. He thought it was something wrong with Lena but then again he didn't want to judge anyone and say anything that might make this whole situation worse. He hasitated, making a weird noise like a dying seal when Aygee cut everyone off focusing the entire attention on her. ~Mark, Lena has regained consciousness but I can't feel her inside. Her eyes are green, oh my God. Aygee was staring at Lena with dismay and true horror on her face. Lena stood up and floated a little above the air. With a deep man's voice in her throat she growled. ~How the fuck You could manage to break the curse and remove the stigma from my son, you funny, little, weak freaks?! It was clear to hear that it was Anti's voice coming out of Lena's mouth. Everyone was stunned, wondering how's this even possible for Anti to possess Lena's body. Jack of course was shaking in the corner of the room, hoping it was just a bad dream and that he will wake up soon in his beautiful house's huge bedroom next to his girlfriend, he will kiss her and they will lead a normal life together like up to this point. The gleaming green light that was emanating from Lena intensified  and the poor girl was growling and screaming not even knowing about what was happening with her. Anti's power was so great that he was moving things in the cabin with his mind. Stuff were floating in the air and everything was spinning aroud. The heavy pot that flew across the room has hitten Jack's head making him faint. Nobody even noticed this becasue of the chaos and the man hiding in a corner of the room. It was probably better for him to not knowing what was happening and to go to a happy place in his mind while sleeping. To Be Continued...

[metronomeihear]

Rules:

1. Post the rules 2. Answer the questions given to you by the tagger 3. Write 11 questions of your own 4. And tag 11 people

I was tagged by @onceabluemoonwrites

1. What is your second favourite fandom?

Umm.... I’m not certain? I don’t really rank the fandoms I’m in, so I don’t have a “second favorite”. I have several favorites, each of which hold a special place in my heart, but I wouldn’t be able to rank them.

2. Any lesser known shows/manga/anime/books everybody needs to know about?

GHOST HUNT AND NURARIHYON NO MAGO.

Ghost Hunt has to be my favorite supernatural horror anime ever, bar maybe Tokyo Ghoul. It follows the story of Taniyama Mai as she becomes the assistant to Shibuya “Naru the Narcissist” Kazuya, young psychic researcher and professional Ghost Hunter. They, along with a wacky cast consisting of a medium, a pritest, a preistess, a monk, and an omnyouji, solve a variety of different cases of the supernatural. It’s an awesome show, and the amount of research the author of the novels put into everything is crazy. Most of the show is accurate to real life psychic research, which is something that really impresses me. It’s not afraid to touch on issues that other shows wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, either. All in all, I highly recommend it, and send you off to watch (or read!) it, with a warning to stay away from the dub. Mai’s voice in the dub is really annoying.

Nurarihyon no Mago is another really awesome one that I really wish people would watch. It follows the story of Nura Rikuo, the mostly human grandson of the yokai Nurarihyon, and heir to Nurarihyon’s clan, the largest yokai yakuza in all of Japan. The issue? Rikuo wants nothing to do with his yokai blood, preferring to stick to the human side of things. Through a series of events, Rikuo learns to accept who and what he is. It’s an awesome series with lots of references to japanese folklore and traditions, and I wholeheartedly recommend that you read it as soon as you can.

3. Ghibli or Disney?

Ghibli all the way.

4. Why Ghibli/Disney?

I’ve always loved the way that Ghibli animates things. Their movies are always so beautiful to see, it’s like watching a work of art in motion. But more than that, the type of story they animate appeals to me more than Disney. I would much rather watch a movie about a young hat maker cursed into being an old woman fall in love with a wizard than watch a movie about a princess. Disney movies are great, I’m not going to deny that, but they’ve always been aimed more at a younger audience, which makes them awkward to watch now that I’m older. Ghibli movies have never had that stigma for me, and since their stories are the ones I tend to like more... Well. There’s not much more to say, is there?

5. Favorite flower?

I don’t have one? I don’t really have favorites with that sort of thing, but if I really had to pick, the I’d say chrysanthemum.

6. What makes you ship something?

Ohhh that’s a difficult question to answer. I ship different things for different reasons, usually becuase someone made me see that their dynamic works in a relationship. I don’t ship that many things, actually, and there are only two ships I can think off of the top of my head that I ever had a moment where I went “Wow. Those two. I ship them.” Those ships were 1827 and TodoDeku. 

I had a moment, when reading the manga for KHR, where I was reading that scene in the Shimon arc where Hibari was fighting Adel. Tsuna was asking Hibari why he was fighting so hard, for Tsuna, and Hibari’s response is what made me ship them. “It is because there is a sky that the clouds can float freely. And someday, I will bite even the sky itself.” It just... hit me. Tsuna gives Hibari a home. He gives Hibari a place to come back to and rest whenever Hibari gets tired or bored of wandering around. Tsuna doesn’t try to constrain HIbari, or try to tell him what to do. He respects Hibari and his boundaries, and that line-- I’m not sure how to explain it. It just clicked, and I’ve shipped them ever since.

TodoDeku was the second ship where I had a moment like that. Before the sports festival arc, I never really noticed Todoroki. He was just one of the background characters, and I wasn’t even able to remember his name half the time. I was too focused on other things to pay attention to him. Then the sports festival arc started, and he came to the forefront of things, and I learned more about his past, and that’s when I started liking him. I didn’t ship him with anyone, but I liked him. But then-- “It’s your power, isn’t it?” That line. That scene. With the flashbacks and the fire appearing and Endeavor in the background and Izuku’s expression and Todoroki’s reaction--All of it. It was glorious. And that is what made me ship TodoDeku. Even more so with the interactions they had after that--with Stain’s fight and everything else, I just--adkfgfksyfef.

I have other things I ship, too. I ship HashiMada because that’s the way they’re written, really. It’s an epic bromance that borders on romance, and it’s not hard to believe they could have been lovers. I ship KaneHide because they support each other and help each other and mean so much to each other. I doubt there are very many things they wouldn’t do for one another. I ship Rikuo and Kana. I ship Meliodas and Elizabeth. I ship Madoka and Homura. I ship Kaito and Shinichi The main theme in all this? I ship healthy ships. Ships where they build each other up and support one another and help each other overcome their fears. That doesn't mean I don’t have unhealthy ships too. I’ve shipped things for no other reason than the dynamic is fucked up, because those ships are real too, and sometimes I like indulging that dark part of me. But for the most part, the reason why I ship something is because it’s healthy.

7. Or WHO makes you ship things?

@blackkatmagic has made me ship things. They introduced me to the ship that is MadaTobi and I haven't been able to drag myself away from. @onceabluemoonwrites made me ship DinoXanxus. The author of “Stranger with a Gun” (I can’t for the life of me remember who that is) made me ship 8018. 

8. Favorite book?

Difficult to say! I love the Harry Potter series, because that was pretty much my childhood. The Hobbit holds a special place in my heart because my dad used to read parts of it to me before I went to bed. I love the Dresden Files for it’s weird sense of humor. I love House of Many Ways, and the Anita Blake series has some really good books in it, too! I’m not sure which one I would call my favorite.

9. Most Annoying Sibling Award?

I have two siblings, a younger brother and a younger sister, and out of the both of them, I’d have to say my sister is the more annoying of the two. I get along fairly well with both of them, but my sister is the more outgoing of the two of them, and thus the more likely one to come annoy me. I still love them both, though.

10. Wooden floors vs. linoleum.

Wooden. More because it’s familiar than any other reason.

11. Who are you in the Cinnamon roll meme?

I’d be stuck somewhere between looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you and looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll. I’m general a nice person but if you go after anyone I care about then no one will find the body.

I never know who to tag for these sorts of things.... Lets just say I tag anyone and everyone who sees this post. If you feel like doing it, just say I tagged you!

My questions:

1. Dogs, Cats, both, or neither? 

2. What’s your favorite Pokemon?

3. You have two weeks until the end of the world. What do you do?

4. Who was the worst teacher you’ve ever had?

5. What was the most frustrating thing you’ve ever had to do?

6. If you had one wish, what would that wish be?

7. What’s your favorite movie?

8. What’s your least favorite game?

9. Flying or super strength?

10. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

11. What’s your plan for the Zombie Apocalypse?

[silverscreenname]

Silent Despair - Pregame Relationships

Atsu Mozuna - Ultimate Vending Machine Placement Scout

There’s an art to this kind of work, as I understand it. ‘Eye level is buy level’, and all that — they employ a lot of of the same behavioural principles we do with camera work and set design, determining where the viewer’s attention should be at any one time. Location, location, location… I’d really love to take notes on her process, but I suppose she’d be out of a job if she were the type to so easily give her game away.

B.B. - Ultimate ASMR Chef 

Autonomous sensory meridian response… sounds a little like Foley. I’d never heard of it before, but it’s not as if I can’t appreciate careful use of audio to influence an audience.

Oh. Now there’s an idea, actually. I hope they don’t mind chatting about their work, because this could be a great opportunity for a bit of research… 

Cape - Ultimate Costumist 

Back in my assistant days, I saw his work feature in several dressing rooms. There’s a certain stigma attached to taking costume design out of house, but quality is quality, as far as I’m concerned… does he wear that persona of his even offline, I wonder?

Diantha Engberg - Ultimate Speed Skater 

I watch figure skating competitions quite often, but I’ll admit to changing the channel whenever speed is concerned. To me it’s more about how you get from A to B rather than how long it takes, I suppose. That’s mere personal preference, though — she’s doubtless quite the athlete.

That, and… there might still be a chance that she can demonstrate a triple lutz?

Elliot Morgan - Ultimate Bartender 

The London nightlife, mm… I can see Mom leaning over some insanely colourful, umbrella-filled concoction to pat him on the head already. Is he the type to listen to a patron’s woes, or more of a Rick Blaine affair? I suppose we’ll soon find out.

At any rate, I hope his relationship with alcohol hasn’t been soured so much as mine with coffee.

Flerida Belmont - Ultimate Illustrator 

Akuma no Akumu has been on my shelf for some time, and that’s largely due to its illustration catching my eye. A style like hers can elevate an entire work, I think — it’s been a while since I’ve been so pleasantly reminded of Itō Junji. Does she stick to digital or do some of it by hand? I hope it’s the latter, if only because I’d like to take a look.

Hisanobu Fubuki - Ultimate Pastry Chef 

To a hobbyist like myself, someone who can bake like him is truly something else. I had a run-in with his work once before, while on a visit to Hakone Shrine, and ended up eating enough for three… not that I’m proud of having broken my policies so completely, mind. The point is, the standard he keeps can’t be understated.

Katsutoshi “Rune” Fukuyo - Ultimate TCG Player 

And here I find myself completely in the dark. These sorts of games probably come down to a combination of probability and personality, similar to poker, but that’s about as far a guess as I’m willing to venture for now.

Speaking of personality, though — he sounds like a cocky one. The type you’ll either get along with famously or infamously. 

…I feel a headache coming on.

Khal - Ultimate Merchant 

‘Anything one requests’, mm. Sounds entirely suspect, but I suppose calling a businessman suspect is like calling the sky blue. Mom and Dad will have heard of him, no doubt, but I haven’t yet had the pleasure… well, we’ll see what he’s about soon enough.

Kihaku Horikawa - Ultimate Taiko Drummer 

Taiko — now there’s something easy to appreciate. I’m not one for festivals, but the percussion is what keeps a Noh drama’s tension on that vital razor-thin edge… Has he ever played in a production of Hagoromo? What about Sakidera Komachi? Ah, I’ve got to pick his brain… 

Kossetsu - Ultimate Graffiti Artist 

Seeing their message splayed out across the grey walls was a rare treat for those of us unfortunate enough to have to make their daily commute along Tokyo’s subways, I thought. It makes me happy to know they’ve gone on to do even more since then, and as for us ending up in the same class… that could be quote a stroke of luck.

Mitama Takaki - Ultimate Art Appraiser 

Art appraisal… personally, I firmly believe beauty to lie in the eye of the beholder, so it’s not a practice I’ve ever paid much thought. Still, though, discovering a museum full of fakes is an impressive thing, and she’d be endlessly valuable to those who truly care about having the ‘genuine article’, I suppose.

Oliver Waters - Ultimate Screenwriter 

To be an artist means never to avert one’s eyes.

Rikka Tsurugane - Ultimate Vaper 

Let’s see — Tsurugane, Tsurugane… oh.

…Heheh.

Reminds me of when Dad used to sit me down on the kitchen counter so I could see him outside — blowing the smoke out through his nose, pretending to be a dragon. As soon as I tell him about this, he’ll start begging me to get him a lesson or two. I wonder if I could win Tsurugane-san over…?

I wonder if they smell the same.

Seichou Shirane - Ultimate Hacker 

His page leads to… nothing, really.

Wait. Is this what it means when they talk about ghosts in the machine? God, he’s the real thing, isn’t he? How does he type so fast? How does he he deal with all those dozens of boxes popping up as he’s typing? What should I ask first? What should I ask first?

Setsuko Kagura - Ultimate Secretary 

A corporate background, through-and-through… I know a little of what it means to act as someone’s right hand. To have come this far, she must be able to bear it with more grace than I can.

Shizuka Hakoniwa - Ultimate Utaite 

…Nico Nico what. 

Just — just a second.

…A sort of cover artist, then. Why don’t they ever just— oh, never mind. Let’s give her a listen.

Ah. Pretty voice, all right… that much requires no translation.

Tatsu Ito - Ultimate Urban Legend 

Urban legends? I believe it’s rare for such things to travel farther than cloakroom gossip, now that the age of word-of-mouth has largely ended. She must be quite the storyteller… I hope she won’t mind a chat or three. Who knows — I might end up with an adaptation on my hands.

Yves - Ultimate Horror Writer 

Speaking of adaptations — I’ve wondered, in the past, whether or not Kizmet could be on the table in future. Has she ever considered bringing it to the screen? Subversions of the usual horror tropes are too rare and enjoyable to resist, I feel. Oh, but to maintain the novel’s perspective, we’d have to do something a little unique with narration… 

Well, at any rate — if nothing else, having a fellow writer around might ease the mind some.

[lilphxrising-thebigbootyboss]

my twenties: specifics to come

I don’t think there was a doubt in my mind that Brad was no longer a fixture in my life. But there was a fear that I would let the weak voices become loud again and let him in. It was always so easy for me to accept the calls, read the messages, press the letters to my chest after reading them, hoping that some remanence of his scent would linger. But prison doesn’t smell of rich cologne and he wasn’t the same man that once wore it. I wasn’t the same girl either.

Oh god, do I wish that I was though. I see so many young women, so ripe with life and think back when I felt that freedom. That sense of being untouchable, naïve, and open to love. My current mask is one of pure jubilation and laughter but there’s no sport in it when they believe it. There’s no hope for refuge when the hidden messages, go unread. I wander about, feeling like a puzzle. A living, breathing Winchester mansion, only no one visits, no one calls, and no one stays for longer than a night. Probably on account of all the ghosts.

I hold firm that one day, the walls will come down, completely. That all my thoughts and fears and stories will come tumbling out, richer and richer with every layer. But the freedom seems further away, the more I reveal those memories. Each one, kind of feels like a paper cut; quick, painful and invisible to those that weren’t there to witness it. Despite the subtle pain, and distance in freedom, it does feel…lighter. I do feel the rays of hope. I do know that it will be okay. But for the story to have a real ending, it first must be told.

Most young love starts with a promise. “I’ll love you forever,” “I’ll never hurt you,” “You are my everything.” My first love, was a lot like that. Whole lot of promises. Not a whole lot of follow through. He was a friend of a friend. Numbers exchanged. I was in school, dreaming of being an actress in LA and Tony came into my life. It started innocently enough. He was just going to be someone that I would pass the time with. Up until that point, I had never shared a kiss. Or came close. Of course I didn’t want to tell anyone. Who wants to admit that at 19, they were kissing virgins? Tony wasn’t my first kiss but he was the second. More on that later. At first, I couldn’t believe that an attractive guy would be into me. Dorky, awkward, distant me but he was. And it felt like magic. I fell in love with his voice. That soft growl right before bed, “Sweet dreams sweet cheeks.” Cheesy as it was, it was better than any melatonin I would ever take to ease me into slumber. Every dream so vivid and he was real. As the semester came to a close and the reality of coming home hit, I could think of only one thing that made me race through the hellish heat of the desert; Tony.

Now, why would I bring Tony up when we were talking about Brad?

Tony and Brad were cut from a very similar mold. Both came from a broken home, addiction in the family, foster care, abuse and eventually found themselves behind bars, so far away from me and the promises that each of them made about our future. Tony, would eventually push me away, Brad would ultimately syphon from my heart and I was hopelessly addicted to their love.

None of it was perfect. I spent that summer, after LA with Tony, holding his hand through his addictions, pretending to be something that I wasn’t ready to be. I didn’t know how to handle the urges and the different personalities that came with meth. I didn’t know how to be an “easy” girl. To him, I was something pure and innocent. Someone that was so far outside the scene that he could maybe still feel normal. Summer turned to fall, then winter, then spring and before we knew it, it was a year later and Tony was more committed than ever to his drug. I visited jails and prisons because I didn’t want to leave someone I loved, feeling so alone in a place that was built to isolate and break wills. It was the summer of 2010 that he went in and 7 years later he was released. When he got out, we spent some time reconnecting on a friendly level but it didn’t feel the same. I wasn’t really sure where he was or how to contact him but I did think fondly and wonder. One day, I received a message from his sister. She was playful and sweet and spoke wonderfully about him. That he was doing great, working his programs even got himself a new car. We agreed to meet up and just like it began, we were texting again. I smiled at my phone more, felt a sense of closure long before we had the discussion about it. I was still angry at him though. Still mad that he chose those people and those drugs and that he failed to believe me when I told him I loved him so fucking much. He commented on how distant I had become. I was still me but a harder version. Hearing that reminded me that he really was away. He remembered the person I was before loss and abuse and real fear struck me. I was jealous. How could he remember that sweet girl and I couldn’t for the life of me summon her presence again? I had given those seven years to someone else and Tony knew that. I remember when he asked me, why I was able to forgive Brad over and over again but with him, there seemed to be no hope. It was a simple answer. “I was in love with you Tony and I really believed you loved me too. You don’t hurt those you love.” I stayed until he told me to leave and when I did, Brad entered.

It was serendipitous. Every journal entry I have about that time with Brad is filled with the romantic ideas of a school girl in love. I met Brad online. While he was still in prison. The first time. I’ll get into that later, should time allow. But mostly, it was me being played. It was a series of broken promises, half-truths, a meddling ex-wife, multiple women in the back ground and me; an inexperienced, pretty young woman with expendable income. What more can a guy ask for?

There was so much and I forgave him for all the varying levels of abuse because he was attractive and strong and so good at being bad. In my mind, I believed I deserved every nasty thing he did. That maybe, all of it was in my head. Maybe I was really creating this whole fantasy. Feeding the chance that I was the crazy one, made it easy to forget that I was in a bad place.  He was the kind of drug that made you high enough to forget the consequences, even when you saw the fall before you. We talked about creating a family. Having a real home but he wasn’t ready for what he was asking for. He wasn’t ready for a life with me and to be honest, I wasn’t in a place to build that either. I was 22 years old, moved to a city I didn’t know to be with a man that didn’t know how to love me, who still kept relationships alive with other women, so he didn’t feel so alone when he drove one of us away.

I think the most telling part of our time together was how easy it was to allow someone to keep you on standby.  No matter how strong you think you are, you really don’t know how weak you can become at the will of a pretty face.  All of it made me more aware of what a good person is. A good person doesn’t lie. A good person doesn’t lay hands on you. A good person loves all of you. A good person respects you and what you stand for.  

Being constantly tested, makes the journey itself worth it, like there is nothing you can’t face. No hill too high or ground too uneasy. Over time you adopt new fears, anxieties solely based on the trauma inflicted, the rejection involved with it all and you lose yourself. That piece of you that lived long before the most painful of goodbyes. That is the person that I’ve wanted to be.      Imperfections and all.

Depression is a bitch. There’s no matter around that part of it. Some episodes are better than others if you can believe it. Imagine there being an upside to having depression. I’d take my happiest sad day over any day where driving into oncoming traffic, seemed like a rational idea. There is a stigma with talking about it because those that haven’t experienced its true weight, can’t possibly relate and those that do know it, are too ashamed and fearful to admit that vulnerability exists. The thought of hurting myself and ending my time here has been something that has played in my head since I can remember. As a child, I dreamt of it but cowered back because I didn’t want to hurt those I loved. I thought of my mom a lot and when she passed, the urges got stronger. So then I thought of my father but when he passed, for a while there, I wasn’t sure that I could win. Everything was just so fucked up and I saw no glimmer of hope. None. Then, there was the day I heard a little voice call me, “Tia.” That was it. I had been an aunt for many years before I heard that, but I was Lily to them, the older ones. But for these little guys, I was a Tia goddammit. It snapped me back to center. I don’t know if I’ll ever me a mama but me being here for them is my reason to take back those imaginings. I think of them, all of them, when I need to remind myself it will pass.

My mental health has been a great source of confusion and pain. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was feeling or that it had a name until college. Growing up, I was “dramatic, emotional, sensitive, and moody.” And in all that time, I can only remember a few moments where someone stopped to ask me, “why?” A question that I never really had an answer to because I was taught to let it out then let it go; quickly. For some that works and makes perfect sense, but for me? It could be hours, days, weeks before I get to feeling semi “normal.” Normal for me is hiding just enough of the sadness with a giggle and a smile, hoping that they won’t call my bluff when they want to know more. I’ve gotten really fucking good at that. It seems so fucked up to say. That I’ve in a sense been playing all the people in my life into, hopefully believing, that I am in a better place than I am. I have days where I get in my car, leave for the day and just drive. I have no plans. No place to go but anything is better than sitting in my living room waiting for a call, a text, or an email that will never come. I entertain myself of course. Get lost in the pages of a good book, attempt to write one myself, sing, eat or sleep. I’ve worked the gym into the rotation as well, not to mention some random flings here and there but nothing compares to a genuine connection. Doesn’t even have to be romantic. You could have a genuine connection with a piece of art and feel something that means more than silence. Anything to tone down the eagerness of the depression wanting all your attention again.

When Tony and Brad were serving their time away, they’d call and write to ask how I was doing, what I was doing and my answers lacked luster. In a most ironic way, I wasn’t living my life any differently than they were. They fucked up and got sent away. My brain’s fucked up and so I locked my whole being away. Call it a prison of the mind, if you will. I’d get up, go to work, school, home and repeat.  They never understood it and I was always so jealous of that fearlessness they had. That ability to just live. I was so crippled with my own shit that I had no idea how to let go and never really trusted them to be there should I fall. Being seen at the “strong” one, the one “holding it down,” or whatever, that gave me a sense of purpose in our relationships. It was also a huge lesson in codependency.  A term that I learned in therapy, which I went into after my mom passed away. It was a healthy step and one that I strongly recommend to anyone that feels this lost. When you work on your shit you do feel less crazy and more aware that the world wasn’t designed to fit any one construct. There is no fine print on the contract of life. Everything is right there. We complicate it with entitlements. So we set boundaries. That’s probably what the title of my twenties should be.

More to come....promise