#I also weigh more than I ever have but like. It's puberty. Why get worked up over it.

[stardustedknuckles]

Two years almost exactly, three months in a full dose, and not a whole lot going on. Which is fine with me. What you can't see, at least not readily, is that MAN I need to shave lol. It's just that my hairs are so fine and so light colored that you can't see them until you know you're looking for them.

I can't say it's a HUGE difference, but I've definitely been on t for eight months. And the whole point of doing a half dose was that I didn't want radical changes, so I think we're doing pretty good.

[intooned]

MY FAVORITE SHIPS!

This was a LONG time coming! And I want to thank @expensiveeggplant & @coffinbrotherr for putting up with my procrastination while boiling down the who and why of this list!

Adventure Time: Finnceline

My first real ship, the first fanfiction I ever read, and I spent hours watching Finnceline AMV's way back when YouTube didn't have commercials. Finn and Marcy's personalities and experiences play so well off of each other that I'm thoroughly convinced the writers were terrified of their potential. They would be an amazing butt-kicking couple, but that wouldn't leave Finn with as many flaws to develop as a young man coming of age. And it's such a shame because you know they'd always have each other's backs and best interests at heart. And with a fully grown adult Finn I'd bet money they'd have at least turned out as cuddle buddies... who occasionally engage in some very aggressive cuddling.😏

Flame Princess and Huntress Wizard were great and had their cool moments with Finn, but something tells me Marceline would give up her immortal life in a heartbeat to protect Finn. Having seen each other's pasts and memories and going out of their way to help each other with deep-rooted life issues, Finnceline just has more depth to work with than the other ships.

Gravity Falls: Dipper x Pacifica x Mabel

The first episode I ever saw was the one where Pacifica and Mabel play mini-golf. I wasn't fully paying attention and assumed Dipper and Mabel were just best friends dealing with a bully. The car ride home together was cute and solidified my first ever threeway ship. THEN I found out they were siblings...

Then I found out fanfiction didn't care! In fact, here's a [link] to the BEST fanfic I've ever read for this ship, enjoy!

Star Vs. The Forces of Evil: MonStarco

The MonStar AU is where things are relatively the same except for one thing: Star is half or part monster. It makes good sense that Star, being an interdimensional magical princess from an interdimensional magical kingdom would be a little more... interdimensional. It gives some fresh blood to Starco fics, which can be a bit too vanilla most of the time, especially when you get to parts where Star's otherworldly anatomy and quirks cause all sorts of problems and shenanigans!

Sort of like her muberty phase but she's stuck looking that way, and if you remember the show said there's a chance every Mewman actually COULD end up stuck in butterfly form! Super interesting! It reminds me a lot of the episode of Teen Titans(original) where Starfire was going through alien puberty, and how fun of an episode it was to watch. The fact that there's tons of Monster Star AU and Mewberty art out there helps a ton as well!

Steven Universe: Lapiven & Stevinel

Lapiven: These two are the perfect example of "cute sunshine boy X hot goth gf". Plain and simple, Steven's optimism is exactly what Lapis needed to begin working through what happened to her. And no one appreciates a cinnamon roll the way a scarred person does. Also, tell me they don't look like a couple everytime they're onscreen together? I mean really watch them! Blushing, giggling, constant eye contact, twinkling eyes, immediately responsive to each others change in mood, plenty physical contact, elation whenever Steven calls or visits.

You can call it platonic for the Shtewball, but Lapis adores Steven in every sense of the word! She warned him and negotiated his safety when she realized Homeworld would get involved. She held Jasper prisoner in her own head just to protect him. She faced her trauma and returned to confront the Diamonds, ready to put hands and feet on an enemy she knew she couldn't beat. And entirely because, to her, Steven's safety was more important than her own life! Weigh out those exact same scenarios, their exact same interactions with each other with just about any other two characters in animation and tell me it doesn't make sense? I swear most of their episodes together are just them going on dates!

Stevinel: Now this is special to me. On the opposite side of the scale Steven and Spinel share the same feelings of abandonment and inadequacy from and by Pink. Of course they aren't the only ones, but Spinel didn't raise Steven as a parent or sibling. There was no one better suited to empathize with Steven's issues, and his downward spiral into becoming a monster who hurts people.

What Spinel went through in the movie is too on the nose for what Steven goes through in Future, and I'm flabbergasted that the writers chose to have her be of little to no help when Steven needed to be shown that he didn't have to hold himself together on his own!

But back on topic. The other Gems love Steven, but Spinel is wired to love him just like Pearl, on top of whatever blooms between them naturally. So when those wires were damaged from Pink's abandonment, it's quite poetic that Steven is the one to mend them. From there It's as easy-peasy pink-heart-squeasy to assume the seeds of affection could sprout from such fertile ground. It also helps that Rebecca Sugar blatantly suggests Steven and Spinel's relationship isn't concretely platonic, at least for Spinel. Even going so far as to give us fan service!

Possibility is all that is needed for shippers and fanfictioneers to run wild with wishful thinking. I also might have a revenge boner for heartbroken characters who find happiness despite the tomfuckery done to them. "Pink abandoned me in her garden? Guess I'll have Steven frolicking in mine.

RWBY: Nora's Arc

Although I may grow enamored with other RWBY ships, I always come back to this one. It's just tons of fun! Responsible & Awkward meets Extroverted Hurricane, legally banned from IHOP and the Sloth exhibit at the zoo! Premium family man real estate meets poster girl for found family and there's no one better than Jaune-1-of-8-kids-Arc to get the job done!

I'm also of the mind that Nora's bombastic personality is meant to draw people to her, because she's absolutely terrified of being alone and left behind again. And with family gatherings at the Arc residence, isolation is all but nonexistent.

Wakfu: Yumalia

Dreams do come true! LET'S GOOO! Not much to say; they were set to be together from first sight and it was a rollercoaster from there. A lot like Aang and Katara, Yugo got his feisty princess and Amalia got her dashing hero. It's classic, it's timeless, and you love to see it done well!

The Dragon Prince: Rayllum

Obvious cuteness is obviously cute. It's nearly unheard of for the strange but exotic alien girl to be the one intrigued and smitten with the human boy. An action adventure fantasy but the non-human girl is the awkward one hiding her feelings? Sign me up! It's a breath of fresh air!

Sonic The Hedgehog: SilverWolf

The newest addition! Some fresh meat to sink my teeth into as I rekindle my love for the Sonic franchise! I haven't followed anything Sonic since the fever dream that was Sonic 06, but happened to see a few panels of Silver talking to what appeared to be a new character, Whisper the Wolf! Shy, soft spoken, but not from timidity, rather a desire to not scare others away because of her frightening features.

Pairing her with the very approachable and reassuring Silver makes for good chemistry in my opinion. I also adore Whisper's color scheme and the combination of silver, gold, and neon lights they have in a lot of comic panels together. They'd make a cute pair that's easy to reduce to a blushing mess with any little bit of teasing, and I'm here for it!

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT!

I have loads more ships but these are the ones that I felt were most worth sharing.

[dreaming-of-assclass]

CURSED MINDS THINK ALIKE BAHDJSNSKS

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before!” Feat Okajima suddenly Discovering he likes Hayami because of her personality and not bcz of her appearance or whatever

While accepting she won’t like him back and... angst lmao? Or no angst you decide haha :eyes:

If anyone is confused, this came from both me and Nao thinking of a Valentine’s prompt for Hayami/Okajima 😂 aka the ship we love in a serious way and a crack way lmao. 

This turned out be more of an introspective character study lol, but I hope I did it justice, bestie <3

Word Count: 1,694 words

In all fairness, Okajima mused to himself, it’s not like any part of this year went like planned.

Getting sent to Class E was a punch in the gut, for sure. There was no denying that, not after the laughter from his former classmates or the yelling he had to hear from his mom once he broke the news to her.

He’d been expecting a year of slacking, if he was going to be truly honest. He’d already reached rock bottom, no use in wasting his time and energy trying to get back into the main campus. Not when he was an average student, at best.

Fooling around during lessons, being labelled the class clown, hanging out with his friends, admiring his female classmates, overall having a good time. That was what he believed would await him in the dingy old building of 3-E.

Instead, their teacher was replaced by a giant yellow octopus who moved at Mach 20 and was gonna destroy the world, and it was up to him and his 25 classmates to save it.

Yeah. Big change of plans.

Okajima found himself actually being motivated to work, more and more everyday. He felt...excited to go to school everyday and feel better about himself, and his academic capabilities. He loved contributing to assassinations and proving himself a valuable member of the class.

But there was one part of him that didn’t quite go away for a while.

He sighed. His inexplicable love of female anatomy. That was the...polite way to put it. His classmates would phrase it as “his insufferable pervertedness.” Which was totally fair.

It was really shameful how he’d acted for a long time. His defining trait had been born from a life of being raised by his father, as well as the tiny voice in himself screaming for attention. To get noticed in some way, even if it earned him ire and scorn.

For a while, Okajima wasn’t sure how to interact with others beyond showing his perverted nature. 

And looking back now, that was such a cowardly excuse he used. It had taken him way too long to realize that. 

Okajima hated how he used to be, and his eyes were awakened after the girls in his class explained to him what was wrong. How his actions made them feel insulted and uncomfortable.

He painfully recalled the sharp sensation in his chest that formed to a lump in his throat at hearing their words.

It was never his intention to hurt them.

Okajima vowed to change that part of himself, and it was much easier than he thought it’d be. Looking back, it seemed like most of his problems in general came from overthinking.

The year was almost to an end now, and it was early February. Okajima had made a lot of progress, and he was happy to know how much he’s changed. How he had better, more honest relationships with his classmates now.

Well...there was still a bit of an issue...

Hayami. 

The issue was Hayami.

Of course, not in a literal sense. Okajima could never think of her as that...not with the way she pushed back her bangs while reading, when he’d catch her watching cat videos in class, or the occasional times she’d laugh at his jokes...

He groaned to himself. I really do have it bad, don’t I?

As shocking as it sounded, he’d never had a crush before. Not on a girl, at least. Since there was that one boy in sixth grade who he-

Back to the topic, lusting after girls didn’t count as crushes, he realized belatedly. All of the objects of his admiration were solely for their looks, really. 

But...somehow Hayami was different.

Like yeah, she had a banger body in his opinion, the perfect dancer build. But even before he’d had a change of character, that didn’t quite catch his attention as much as it usually would.

His favorite part of Hayami would always be the core of who she was. How she didn’t take bullshit from anyone. How she worked so hard, more diligent than anyone he’d ever known. How she kept a cool head all the time and was so reliable.

He just loved that she was tough and unapologetic for it. 

The first time she’d responded to one of his stupid comments with a sharp, fierce glare, Okajima felt a thrill run through him. Partly out of fear, of course, but mostly out of...curiosity.

She was so different, so mysterious. He wanted to know more about her. And since they were seatmates for the year, that gave him some opportunities.

He was the first to know of her love for cats. He’d caught her looking wistfully at pictures of them on her phone, and he wisely kept that observation to himself. And a few days later, he gifted her with a cute cat-themed stationary set, claiming that his mom mistakenly bought it. 

The way Hayami’s eyes lit up as her lips curved up in a small smile, a whisper of “thank you” falling off them was extraordinary and made Okajima’s heart leap.

Hayami’s other quirks soon added to his feelings towards her. He loved seeing her fidget with her pigtails absentmindedly. How she doodled pictures of cats on the side of her notebook. The way her feet created a small rhythm against the wooden floor, counting to a beat. How she looked like a complete badass during P.E class, loading her gun and shooting with it effortlessly.

Okajima sighed, his arms falling atop his face as he lay in bed. These new...romantic feelings were overwhelming, to say the least. He felt like voicing his thoughts, just so someone- anyone could give him advice. His dad and brother were absolutely out of the picture, though. So the most trusted people were...

He reached over and grabbed his phone, dialing a familiar number.

“Alright, dude. You said you were going through a crisis.” Mimura leaned back into his beanbag seat, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “What’s up?”

Okajima leaned down slightly, his forearms resting onto his knees. “Well...it’s not really a crisis. It’s just...something new that I’m not used to.”

Sugaya raised an eyebrow from his spot on his bed, glancing up from his pencil in his hand he’d been observing. “I swear, if this is puberty-related-”

“It’s not! It’s more like, my feelings towards something has changed and I’m not sure why.”

“Shoot.” 

Okajima took a breath then released everything in one go. 

“I have a crush on Hayami and it’s not just for her appearance. I really like her personality. I think she’s a total badass who can step on me and I’d love it. But I also think she’s adorable and I wish I could get closer to her. But I know there’s no way in hell she’d ever like me back, so I’m just accepting that and...yeah.”

His friends’ eyes widened simultaneously, as Sugaya dropped his pencil and Mimura paused, holding his candy mid-air. The look they exchanged was almost comical, so Okajima let out a shaky laugh. “Uh...guys?”

Mimura snapped back to reality. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just...surprised.”

The artist hummed. “Yeah...I mean, don’t get me wrong. I knew you’d fall in love or whatever someday. But your crush is what surprises me...”

“Yeah, why Hayami?” Mimura chimed in.

Okajima frowned slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean...she’s pretty scary,” Sugaya replied.

“And emotionally unavailable,” Mimura added.

“She’s super reserved.”

“Kind of...bitchy on her worst days-”

“Okay!” Okajima raised his voice, irritably. “Are you two done? Did you even hear what I said earlier?”

“No because you said it all really fast in one breath.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, smartass, there’s so much more to her that I really adore. And I don’t think it’s right to...when you like someone, you accept every part of who they are. You shouldn’t pick and choose what you like about them.”

His friends glanced at each other again. “I guess you have a point,” Sugaya admitted.

Okajima sat back with a sigh. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like...all I wanna do is see her smile and be happy. I wanna make her laugh. Seeing her every morning is enough to make my day. I know it sounds dramatic but...”

Mimura frowned at him. “Would you ever confess? Maybe there’s a chance that she-”

The photographer cut him off. “There isn’t.”

“Dude, you don’t-”

“Even if she did, I wouldn’t want us to be together,” Okajima replied. He gave his friends a thin smile. 

“She deserves so much better than someone like me.”

Okajima stopped in front of the door, his hand hovering above the knob. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the thundering sound of his own heartbeat.

It was just another typical day. Or, as typical as a day could be given the circumstances of their class.

And yet, voicing his ambivalent feelings last night gave way to a heaviness that settled deep into his chest. It weighed him down and brought a crushing sensation to his throat as well, like it was hard to breath.

“It’s just in my head,” he muttered to himself, finally turning the doorknob.

Stepping into the classroom almost felt like a dream. He stood briefly as if in a daze, holding his bag. A second passed and he moved mechanically towards his seat.

All around him, his classmates were getting ready for the day. Setting up their desks, gathering around to chat, some were eating a quick breakfast. It didn’t matter: everything just blurred around him anyways.

He set his bag down and began pulling out his supplies. The words fell from his lips in an excited greeting, a grin automatically forming on his lips.

“Good morning, Hayami!”

She turned in his direction, her hand resting elegantly under her chin. Her lips quirked up into a small smile as she returned his greeting. Her tone was casual yet genuine and it sent electricity through him.

“Morning, Okajima.”

Yeah. She deserved only the best. 

And it wasn’t him.

[amjustagirl]

i looooooove coriander they dont deserve the slander ughhhh

tw: body image

i have a love/hate relationship with food. ig mostly bc i grew up chubby and having seen that most “popular” girls in school were skinny + mass media and all that crap definitely made me super insecure about my weight.

people ask me how i slimmed down, i always say, “oh just puberty”. thats just half of the story bc i used to restrict myself to one/two meals a day + exercise (i was in table tennis for 10 yrs lmao), and now it has became a habit. im trying to be nicer to myself, but more often than not, i still fall into that spiral to the point where i’ll purge after a big meal. it’s so unhealthy but it’s even harder for me to be content with myself, yknow?

im sorry for rambling T-T and you dont have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable!!

- ☕️

yeah i feel like there are a lot of ppl who hate coriander but i don't get it, i grew up eating it and i guess maybe that's why im used to the taste / smell of it? IT'S SO CRUCIAL TO SOUTH EAST ASIAN CUISINES! like i fking love coriander in thai crab vermicelli, and we even add coriander as a garnish to some clear chinese soups so yesss.

tw: talk about body image issues

oh, darling. i 100% understand how you feel because i used to be a chubby girl too, and to a certain extent i still am because i'll never be as long and lean and lithe as my sister and sister in law, i'm short and built like a work pony and even up til today i'm still super insecure about my weight! i can't step onto a weighing scale without cringing, i go to the gym religiously in part because i wanna get stronger but also as a means for me to relax and not have to keep thinking abt my weight too much, if that makes sense.

i wish the world were kinder to us. and i wish that you could be kinder to yourself, my dear. i'm just an internet stranger, but i do wanna say you're not alone, and as someone who's gone through what you've gone through, and who's kinda still struggling with loving my weight fully without any shame - it's hard to be content with yourself, i get it, i really do.

but!

just keep working at reminding yourself that you're valid and beautiful. you don't have to compare yourself to everyone else, because you're worthy of love and you're beautiful, yeah?

for myself, i don't count calories, and i focus on what makes me feel good - not so much how i look? i try to eat intuitively - most of my diet is filled with healthy food that makes me happy (square meals of rice, veggies, eggs, tofu, grilled meats) but i don't actively stop myself from eating 'unhealthy' things once in a while. i feel like it's all about balance? and also - i've turned my goal re exercise from weight loss to gaining strength and mental clarity, and overall it's really helped me to focus on omg i lifted heavier today or i did one more burpee and i feel so happy and sleep so well after exercise rather than stare obsessively at the weighing scale to see if my weight drops yknow?

i guess what i'm trying to get at is - try to focus on your health rather than just one measurement - weight. cos then your focus shifts towards self-love rather than restriction and overall it's healthier and you'll be happier. easier said than done, i know i know but i believe in you, little baby steps at a time!

you don't ever have to apologise for rambling and you would absolutely NOT make me uncomfortable talking about it. if anything, i'm glad you raised it up cos like...a lot of us struggle with this, and it's so important to normalise conversations like this! and if you want to chat more about this (or anything at all), know that my inbox is always open to you <3

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Knowing vs. Understanding

I’ve seen several comments of late voicing some level of vexation at Season Four’s Mary and her comments about why Thomas would want to go to America. Thing is, that was one of the points where I really fell in love with Mary, so I feel the need to weigh in on the concept that she was joking and the criticism that she doesn’t really understand a thing about it.

Understanding is a strange thing. As humans, there are things we capable of understanding quite well, and then there are things we think we’re capable of understanding that we just aren’t. Ever. We can understand gravity. The concept that if we trip and can’t recover our balance, we will hit the ground is something we can grasp. The science behind it is not as universally available, but it can be attained, at least in theory. Similarly math and spelling and grammar. Alright, as someone with a learning disorder who is ironically bad at language, I fully acknowledge that no everyone is as good at understanding this things as some people, and that there are things that can get in the way. It is still physically possibly for someone to understand everything to do with a subject.

What we will never be able to fully understand is other people. We can try. With the proper frame of reference we can do an amazingly good job. And again, some people are better than others. But the human experience is so self-centric and so based on a combination of temperament and past experience that even the most empathetic person will never be able to understand the life experience of another person one hundred percent. This also frequently gets presented as one person’s fault. “You don’t understand me!” and “I just don’t understand you!” are both, ironically, statements of ‘your’ failing, even though, really, it’s a two way street, and perfect understanding is impossible to reach.

Also, it is possible to know things without actually understanding them. There has been much said about the head and the heart not talking to each other over the years, but it goes beyond that. I can look up all of the statistics of the grand canyon, see pictures, etc. I can grasp that it’s ‘really dang big’. I will never truly understand the reality of it, however, unless I travel down and stand on the edge. There is a massive gap between knowing something and understanding it.

So when it comes to being gay, what sort of frame of common reference does Lady Mary have for understanding Thomas? Not a very good one, as it turns out. Oh, she knows what the laws are. She understands the danger on a purely cerebral level. But beyond that? She’s upper class, so even if she were a queer guy, which she’s not, she would have a lot more opportunities and a lot less fear of prison. She’s female, so even if your head canon says she’s bi/pan/omni/whatever, you still don’t have the threat of arrest, even if she hadn’t been rich. Queer women had a different set of problems, most of which fell in line with the women’s suffrage movement. The closest Lady Mary has come to the dangers and pressures Thomas deals with on a daily basis is the affair with Pamuk, and even there she was shielded by her mother, Carson, Lady Violet, and eventually her father.

The long and short of it is that, when it comes down to sexuality, class, and the repercussions there of, Lady Mary and Thomas have very little in common and it would take a good imagination and a lot of thinking for either of them to understand the other, and let’s be honest, how much of your free time do you spend trying to understand someone at work who works in a different department and who you don’t really interact with much? I’m guessing not much, so expecting either of them to lay up nights trying to guess at the depths of the other one’s soul is kinda ridiculous. We, the audience, of course do just that, but we are in the unique position of being a hundred percent objective. This doesn’t happen much in real life. Occasionally, yes, but not often, and definitely not to this level.

There is one thing about Thomas, though, for which Lady Mary has a very good, very solid frame of reference:

She likes men.

This might not seem like much, but in this scene, it’s everything. Part of the job of footmen was to accompany the ladies on their shopping trips and carry the bags and such. This means Lady Mary, who is a very observant person, would have had plenty of time to notice Thomas checking out various shop boys, cabbies, etc. She would have realized what was going on, at least enough to make a comment to someone and get some sort of confirmation that ‘Oh, dear me, yes, he’s like that’. Once she had her confirmation, she would absolutely have noticed that they have similar taste. And really, the Duke of Crowborough, Mr. Pamuk, Jimmy….they have similar taste. Even if she hasn’t figured out about those three examples (and I’m not sure how much she has), she would still realize that the shop boys he’s staring at are quite dishy.

One place the footmen would not accompany the family is on trips across the sea, but as the rich granddaughter of a wealthy American, the odds Lady Mary hasn’t been to America herself are pretty much zilch. The odds that she hasn’t gone post-puberty when checking out guys along the way was a thing are about as good, as are the odds that she hasn’t had at least one gossipy conversation at a party with some other young ladies of quality revolving around the stewards.

So when Robert questions whether Thomas would even want to go to America or not, what does Lady Mary’s mind do? Immediately pull up the rear view of at least five different men in steward’s uniform from over the years and go “Ah, no, he’d like that. There is a zero chance of his not liking that. Unless he’s sea sick.” She has the frame of reference, she has the data to extrapolate from, she extrapolates and given how cut up Thomas wasn’t about the fact he was going to America and dear, darling Jimmy was staying behind, I really don’t think she was wrong. Oh, she missed the fact that he’d wanted to be a valet in part because he would get to travel and see things, so there would be a bit of interest, because being part of the aristocracy she’d have been traveling and seeing things her entire life. But I don’t think she was wrong about the eye candy.

Of course, Robert, being her father, whose job, at least in part, is to teach her how to behave, etc., is properly scandalized by open acknowledgment of such things in mixed company, immediately goes into parental mode and questions her understanding. Basically he’s trying to reinsert his authority and remind her that she is the child in the situation. Her “I’ve been married, I know everything” is nothing really to do with Thomas’s sexuality, and everything to do with her reminding him that no, she is not a child anymore. She is a woman grown and a mother and she does, in fact, know a fair deal about the subject at hand which is being attracted to men. That is one point where her frame of reference is superior to his.

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 2

Thank god it was Friday she thought as she dropped the boys at school and Lily at daycare. The weekend was just as hectic but not as much. At least she could breathe a little and get some reading in for depositions.

Gustaf was on her mind at work. That wasn’t going to fly she thought. He couldn’t be on her mind, there was nothing for him to be on her mind about. He simply helped you with your shopping and cleaned your floor she thought. She was blowing it all out of proportion.

With the day done she picked up the kids and headed home. As she stepped off the elevator tired and mentally beat up after a long day she saw a package at the door.

“Bring it inside Brendan.” She said turning the key in the lock and wondered who it was from. She didn’t remember ordering anything.

Lily was asleep against her and the boys rushed past whooping for the weekend. Lily stirred and Sildie wanted to scream at the boys. Instead she ground her teeth together and remained calm. Brendan set the package on the counter and went to his room. He was the quiet one and at twelve grieved differently.

“Brendan?” She called softly as she shut the door and locked it. The kid stopped dead. “I appreciate you helping out. I know it’s difficult, and I know I’m not the best at this, but you helping out. It means a lot and I appreciate it.”

His face lit up with a small smile. Not much made the boy smile now days she thought. He’d taken the role of his father seriously. He was the man of the house.

He helped with Lily, helped with dishes, helped any way he could. She also knew that he would be thirteen in a few months and that would all change with hormones and puberty. God help her she wasn’t cut out for this.

With Lily down and the boys in their rooms for quiet time she stood at the counter and stared at the package. She wasn’t expecting anything. She plucked the card off and opened it.

Sildy,

I hope I spelled that correctly. It was nice meeting you yesterday and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer for tea. I wasn’t late by the way. Dinner was saved. I’m out of town for the next few weeks on business but would love to see you for that tea when I get back.

I hope this makes your next few evenings a little easier.

G

She read it over and over again. No, he hadn’t spelled it right but she found it sweet that he’d even tried. Peeking in the bag she started to pullout jars of pasta sauce, noodles, everything she needed for at least four meals.

There was a sweetness about him, and it touched her so deeply that he would bother with such a gift that she couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped. It had been a rough week, a rough five months, and she couldn’t hold it back.

“Ama, you ok?” Brendan asked coming in for a snack.

“I’ll be ok B. Just a rough week and everything is catching up to me.” She pulled him in for a hug and let the tears fall.

“What’s all this?” He looked at the pasta sauce and stuck his nose in the bag.

“The man next door that helped me yesterday decided to surprise us with all this for dinner.” She said wistfully and smiled wiping the tears away as quickly as they came. They hit her at the oddest times.

“Why?” Brendan asked not quite understanding.

“I think he saw we’d had a rough day yesterday and decided to do something nice.” Was it more than that she wondered?

“Should we ask him over for dinner?” He asked with an enthusiasm that took her by surprise.

“We could but he’s away on business for the next few weeks.” She watched his face fall and she gave him a one armed hug of understanding.

“Oh.” He sounded a little disappointed.

“There’s always a next time kiddo.” She ruffled his hair and pulled him into a rib cracking hug.

“Can I help?”

“You want pasta tonight?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He grinned.

“Ok then master chef, have at it” she smiled and let him get to it. The kid loved to help in the kitchen.

They sat around the table and ate as a family. A dysfunctional one, but a family. Lily was five months old, the boys had semi settled in at school, and she had finally been able to get her career back on track. Juggling four kids and a career was never something she’d planned for.

The next few weeks went by in a furious blur that she forgot about Gustaf. There was too much other shit to contend with. Life had sucked her into its vortex with no consideration of spitting her back out anytime soon.

She came home one evening exhausted and at her wits end to a sticky note on her door that simply said

Tea?

A smile bloomed across her face. He was back and so were the butterflies in her tummy. It’s just tea she reminded herself. It would only ever be tea, she said to herself and took a calming breath.

Maybe once the kids were asleep she could invite him over. She chewed on her bottom lip as she got the kids inside debating with herself, weighing every option.

She wanted to tread carefully, get to know him before introducing him to the kids, just in case. Hollywood Star or not she had to be careful for their sake, careful despite her own personal desire for him to just fuck her blind.

She plucked up the courage and went and knocked on his door. She only hesitated three or four times before actually knocking. There was no answer so she left a sticky note of her own.

After 9pm?

She went inside and got on with the evening routine. If it was meant to happen it would.

With the kids asleep she sat at the table and started on depositions and getting her arguments together for Monday. It was the only time she really got to read and soak it all in. She was so engrossed in what she was doing she almost missed the quiet knock at the door and it startled her back to reality. She looked at the time and it was well after ten.

“Shit!” She whispered and shot out of her seat. Remembering her sticky note on Gustaf’s door she hurried to open it.

He stood in black jeans and a white V neck T shirt and she had to consciously check the groan of arousal that shot to her core. Those collarbones, that neck. Did he realize what that did to a woman? He didn’t have to be in a tux to make her week at the knees.

“Hi. Still up for tea or am I too late?” Knowing it was much later than her note. “I’ll understand if I’m too late, I got held up with work stuff.”

“Hi, no you’re fine, I’m still up working.” She said quietly and chewed her bottom lip, he made her nervous and he knew it. “Come on in.” She could sense it.

She held the door open for him as she stepped inside and had to breathe out slowly to level out her racing heart.

“It’s so quiet.” He chuckled and noticed she was still in her suit from the day at work. The woman never stopped.

She had shucked the jacket and heels but the slightly see through blouse had him nearly groaning. He saw the faint shadow of black lace beneath the cream shirt and wanted to peel it from her. The skirt she was wearing accentuated her hips and thighs and only made him want to touch her. His eyes devoured her since his hands couldn’t.

“Yeah it’s the only quiet time I get.” She said and offered him a seat at the table.

She put the kettle on to boil and started to clear away her work. She had to keep her hands busy and focused off the sexual desire she felt for him.

“Don’t stop or clean on my account. I came to see you not....”

“I have to anyway, attorney client privilege.” She said cutting him off and kept stacking the work at the end of the table. “It’s fine I have to clear it for breakfast anyway.”

“You’re a lawyer?” His eyebrow shot up in surprise. He would never have picked it.

“Civil rights attorney.” She shrugged, not many found that interesting. “It’s a defamation case. Long and tedious. Lots of reading. Lots of writing. Not that interesting.”

“I find it interesting.” He said and he saw the hesitation in her hands. His smile was brief and to himself, I find you interesting is what he was trying to say.

“You’re in for some very dry conversation then.” She said smiling and he chuckled in that low sexy tone that made her melt.

Smart and sexy he thought. He liked a woman with brains and a sharp mind. It made for interesting conversation and above all made him think. He liked a woman that made him think.

She left the stack of papers and turned off the kettle just before it broke into song.

“That’s a lot to juggle with four kids.” He said clearly impressed.

“It’s insane to tell you the truth.” She filled the teapot and picked it up carefully.

“No doubt, I don’t know how you do it.” He watched her as she moved, that lithe body he itched to get his hands on.

“With a shit load of tea and endless patients I don’t have.” She smiled and set the teapot on the table to steep. “Oh and cuss words.” She added laughing. “Lots of cuss words.” She moved back to the kitchen to fetch the teacups. “Usually in my head but they’re there being screamed all the same.”

“And not a lot of sleep I’d imagine.” He saw the shadow of dark circles under her eyes and knew it was more than just a lack of sleep.

“I get about four to six hours a night. That’s considered a sleep in.” She said sitting across from him.

“Sounds like location shoots.” He said with a wince. “Brutal but without the children.” He shrugged. “Most of the time. You sleep when you can.”

She laughed and that was what he was after. If he could make her laugh and be at ease he figured he might be in with a shot.

“So what are you workin on?” She asked as she poured the tea and noticed he wasn’t really comfortable with the question. “Sorry, You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m sure you get asked that enough.” She shook her head. He made her on edge and it rattled her to where the awkwardness kicked in and she said stupid shit or whatever her mouth decided to blurt out without her brains permission and redaction first.

“No I’ll tell you.” He smiled. “I’m just amazed.” He said looking at those pretty eyes that had stolen his breath.

“At what?” She asked warily.

“That you clearly know who I am and what I do but I’m just a normal person to you.” He said dumbfounded, he had finally found normal and craved it. Craved it like his next breath.

“Well you are a normal person, with an extraordinary career. You’re my neighbor. A fellow human. Equality regardless of status and station. Sorry that’s the lawyer talking.” She sipped her tea clamming up because she was awkward as fuck around him.

“You’re correct though, lawyer talking or not.” He said and looked at her. He could see she was nervous around him. Sensed the awkwardness. “It’s nice to sit and be normal. Have a normal conversation.”

“You’re a normal person that sends pasta sauce to his neighbor to make her life easier. That’s not the lawyer talking.” She said quietly and gripped her teacup. That night was something special to her and he needed to know that. Acts of kindness went a long way with her. They didn’t have to be big and splashy and showy to prove something. They just needed to be sincere.

“Thanks for that by the way Brendan was in master chef heaven and I didn’t have to think about what would end up on the table for dinner. It was a relatively stress free night.”

His smile told her this sort of thing made him uneasy. He didn’t like compliments when they were personal in nature.

“And I’m embarrassing you.” She said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I’ve not had many people do what you did.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you.” He mumbled and shrugged as he took a sip of his tea. “No big deal.”

She studied him for a moment.

She played with the tea strainer to do something with her fingers and think before speaking.

“You know I had the shittiest day in court that day and came home with cranky kids and I was just exhausted. There by the door was a bag with pasta enough for four meals. You cannot begin to understand what that meant. It may not have been a big deal to you, just groceries, but it was for us.” His gaze found hers now and she felt the hard jolt.

Shit she thought. She was way in over her head with him. She wanted to make something of this but couldn’t. Not with the kids in the other room and she barely knew the guy. But she wanted it. Her body all but screamed for it, for him.

“Brendan started cooking as soon as he saw everything.” She said and dropped her gaze. If she stared at him any longer she would do something that neither of them were ready for and something she’d regret.

“He wanted to invite you over for dinner.” She added and a smile ghosted her lips. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in...” she stopped mid thought and shook her head, that smile falling away.

“Had I been in town I would have gladly had dinner with you and the kids.” He said and could see it made her tense. He left the kids smile out of it as it clearly was something she’d let slip. Time, he thought. She needed time to process whatever it was going on in her life.

“If that’s something you want to do at a later date I’m ok with it, I understand if you don’t.”

“It’s complicated.” She said.

“I figured it would be.” He nodded and gave her a smile that said he understood. “When the time is right, I’d like to meet them. They seem like great kids.”

Her head shot up and looked at him. There it is he thought. Mother bear protecting her cubs. Too soon you fucking idiot he cursed himself. Too fucking soon to go there. He saw the lawyer surface and decided that he would leave it alone for the moment.

“We’ll have to see. It’s complicated.” She said again and wanted to talk about anything but that. He nodded and left it alone.

They talked for a few hours about his work, hers, and when he could see she was nearly asleep at the table he thought it was time to go even though he didn’t want to. They hadn’t touched on why she was a single parent and although he wanted to ask he didn’t. It wasn’t his business unless she wanted to make it his business. He respected that, and he was sure not many did.

“Can I ask you something.” He said as she stood in the partially closed doorway.

“Sure.” She said softly and felt her body tingle at how close he was to her. She could smell the scent of him and tried to breathe it in without having it known that was exactly what she was doing. She wanted him to just kiss her and put her out of her misery.

“Can we make this a weekly thing? When I’m in town?” His fingers fidgeted at his side until the urge was too great and he stuffed them in his pockets to keep himself in check.

Her smile lit up his world. “I’d like that.” She said softly.

“I’ll try and make it at nine next time.” He said and felt the urge to kiss her. He banked that feeling. Not yet.

“No problem.”

“Night Sildie. And oh did I spell it correctly?” He asked as he walked to his door. “In the note?”

She chuckled. “No but that’s ok.”

“How do you spell it?” He stopped and turned to look at her.

“Sildie.”

“It’s a beautiful name.” She only just heard it fall from his lips. “Night Sildie get some sleep.” He said opening his door and only glancing at her sideways to not risk making it too awkward by looking straight at her.

“You too.” She said and closed her door.

Leaning her forehead in the door she couldn’t stop the grin. She was sure he liked her but was stepping carefully because of the kids. She appreciated that. They had to be ok with it too, and that was a whole other clusterfuck she wasn’t ready to deal with.

But she was getting way ahead of herself. Even if it was just a friendship at least she could still see him and then fantasize later. For the first time in six months she felt happy to have moved back home to Sweden.

He’d have to take a cold shower before bed or do the deed himself. Damn he thought as he leaned back against his front door. The woman was stunning, smart, and those eyes he thought. Ice blue, so pale, yet so incredibly beautiful. If he stared into them too much he’d go under.

It was her mind that amazed him. She was wicked smart to get where she was. After ten years in the USA, four years in England, she had landed back home and into one of the top firms in the country. That and raising four kids on her own was mind blowing.

It also screamed don’t fuck with me without her actually having to say it. She wasn’t one for bullshit, much like himself. He’d picked that up the first day he’d met her. She had tolerance and patience but don’t push it and don’t fuck with her or the kids. She didn’t have to say it, it was implied as you walked in her home.

He had to let her lead for the moment. She had way more to lose than he did.

[theworryjournal]

Body Positivist Police

You know the number of body positivist influencers I follow? You wouldn’t believe it but I also follow a few animal/pet profiles on social media that promote body positivism. A very “LOL” moment when I realised that’s how intensely I’m battling body positivism. If there’s one of me, then there are many like me right? A very millennial problem to possess, yet so subjective. You know what I don’t get though, how do I expect someone living outside of my body to help me normalise what’s happening within and on my body? No matter who I follow or what they preach, you can never normalise what I see when I look in the mirror or what I feel when I touch ME. No matter how many stretch mark photos I see, no matter how many uneven breasts I see, no matter how many paunchy human beings I see, its never enough. Do you feel that dissatisfaction? And eventual remorse? Well, I do and I couldn’t fathom, why not? They are doing it, I sort of look like her or him, so its okay. Its not. Its really not (because growing up, I never saw a body like mine up on the big screen and I still don’t see it). Especially those 1000 word essay type captions I see, the ones that do not have a TLDR version saying how they overcame this or that (no disrespect to the ones who have such posts, no offense intended, just normalising), still doesn’t help. 

I’ve batted an issue with weight, almost all my life (at least since I hit puberty, in my head that’s when my life actually began). Not weight exactly because I’ve weighed healthy (according to all the WHO standards) but the way I “looked” to myself, in the mirror. I was never satisfied. I always found my thighs too heavy or “thunderous” if you wanna call it. I’ve always found myself too paunchy, there have been times when I’ve breathed short and heavy so that I’m able to hold my shape at a party (WTF right?). I’ve always caught myself staring for too long at my classmates’ (in high school) legs or arms, how they don’t jiggle and mine always did (and still do). I would starve myself, skip lunch and feed my lunch to the dogs. 4 years of braces and hating on my frizzy and curly hair, you would think growing up helps right? Newsflash, not really. Freud was right. if you don’t figure your childhood out, it’ll be your midlife crisis. Then came my 20s, 4 years of braces and 3 teeth short after, joined college and suddenly I was one of those girls that men looked more than twice. Men and women of all races wanted to look at me twice or felt the need to tell me that I looked “good” or they like how I’m dressed or how it accentuates so and so. I was being talked about, I was a standard to many girls. I couldn’t believe myself. I would still look at myself in the mirror, unsure. When I was eventually used to it, I was satisfied. My idea of satisfaction is allowing myself to eat an extra serving of rice (yes, I’m South Asian) or more meat or extra desserts. I discovered this new found confidence that glowed within me and helped me walk with my chin up because men wanted me. They wanted my sex. I was so confident, I was audacious. Happy. This new treatment mollified everything and I soon forgot I ever had issues with the way I looked. You know, until I was in my early 20s, I didn’t think I was a looker. That someone would look at me twice. It was in my 20s, that I heard someone call me beautiful. Pretty. A looker. Hot. Sexy. Cute. That hair is exquisite on you. Then I graduated and transitioned to my mid-20s. Being a professional and all that jazz. 

Slowly that confidence began to chip away. Maybe because I didn’t have men/women constantly validating me? Or that constant flow of attention? Then came the string of online dates and I got my next (best, apparently) constant source of attention and validation. I wasn’t out there hunting for validation for my wounded ego, it just came my way and of course I lapped it up. I was so used to that by now. I was hungry. With the “Do you know the kind of effect you have on men” to “Come on! You are being modest. You are fetching for compliments, aren’t you?” Well, no. I’m not. I really don’t know how I look. I don’t “believe” how I look. I mean, how can you believe in something you have no understanding of right? I also began noticing that every problem/hurdle I faced in my life, the first to erode, was the way I looked. That’s when I realised that the most fragile part of me is that, what I see when I look at the mirror. Bad relationship and I “let myself go” and ate whatever I could eat. That’s when I saw the scale dip to the higher end, something that’s never happened before. And now, I was unhealthy and of course I didn’t like what I saw either. That didn’t affect me then because he didn’t think I looked bad. He was attracted to me, even if I wasn’t. Then he left and the veil lifted. An alarm went off and I saw her. Me. 

I was sad. Moping everyday. I stopped looking at the mirror. I stopped dressing well. My self-esteem left the building. Being quarantined didn’t help for sure. I knew I was dipping into being unhealthy and finally found that courage in me to face myself and my body. I started eating healthy. Tried not to deprive myself of anything. I exercised (overdid it in the beginning to an extent where I almost injured myself but now I’m learning). It wasn’t easy. I would beat myself bloody (metaphorically) if I cheated or overate or didn’t stick to my regime or didn’t exercise. Now, I’m slowly transitioning. I’m having conversations with my body in front of the mirror. I love looking at myself in the mirror now. I love my hair. I love my skin. I love my stretch marks. I love eating cupcakes. I eat loads of rice. I’ve a paunch and I love it. I sometimes make it talk to me, you know like how kids do it. Yet, there are days when its really difficult. When I’m bloated and I feel like everything I did has gone for a toss. When I look at my arms and think they’re too large. At least, those days are lesser in number than the happy ones. I like taking pictures of myself now and uploading them, regardless of who thinks what. Especially pictures that show my paunch or arms or thighs. I breathe deeply and through my belly now. I finally don’t add as much value as I did when someone compliments me. I thank them and tell myself you bet I do. Because I do. I really do. 

Today I’m 26, a vegan (because animal husbandry is going to drive us to extinction), slightly overweight, paunchy, thunder thighs, beautiful curly hair and hairy sometimes. I eat healthy and unhealthy, I exercise whenever I can and I’m happy. I’m “satisfied”. I still follow those pages and like every post because I’m supportive. I realised that no matter how much positive energy you surround yourself with, its never gonna be enough until you fill your insides with it. I look in the mirror everyday because I like who I see, she makes me happy. I don’t upload photos so that someone else validates it or to help someone else see if I can, so can you. No. I do it because it makes me happy. I’m celebrating, everyday. This body. This smile. This hair. This skin. Every time I hit a block and have difficulty accepting a part of my body, I photograph it and look at it again and again. Until I’ve normalised it for ME. When someone says, do you have any idea the kinda effect you have on people, I genuinely know the answer to that because I’ve that same effect on myself, when I look at myself in the mirror. I’ve created this masterpiece today and I’ll fiercely protect her. 

Its funny how I came to realise that I need to normalise it for myself, every time I’m intoxicated and my inhibitions dropped, I would see someone else in the mirror. A woman fierce from within. Appealing from within. Her personality defining her features. Her personality and her looks amalgamating and reflecting off of my mirror. I would suddenly find every part of my body so appealing and almost turning on. When it would wear off, I wouldn’t see that anymore. That’s when I realised, I’ve to do it for me. Just like how all these influencers are doing it for themselves. 

Don’t get me wrong, I still love makeup, dressing up and being complimented. The only difference is I do it only to accentuate what I already am and have and not to change the way I look or am. 

TLDR- You gotta do it. You gotta do it for yourself. I mean, you live in that body. You feel its feelings. You masturbate with that body. You dress that body. How can someone else do it for you? 

The irony is that my profession is helping others eat healthy and maintain a better lifestyle, I’m a nutritionist. I didn’t plan to be one at all. That’s a story for another time. The universe sure does work in mysterious ways. 

Normalise it. Feel it. Accept it. Love it. We’re on each other’s team. Kinda tired of having to throw my hands in the air. 

[aliceslantern]

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 6

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Chapter summary:  Ienzo grows closer to Demyx, but that closeness quickly becomes a confounding variable.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

He tried to let himself grow . He spent those few hours in the lab, with Even and Ansem and Kairi. Dutifully, he continued to feed himself and sleep the requisite eight hours. He practiced normal black magic, unrelated to his power. Occasionally, considering they were now “friends,” he spent time with Demyx.

Ienzo wasn’t sure if he were simply unused to casual conversation, or if Demyx were truly eccentric. He did have quite a lot of amusing stories about his customers, as well as Scrooge, who was by all accounts quite the character. So slowly, Ienzo began to stop seeing their relationship as it used to be, and began seeing it as it was. After all, Demyx was one of the only people he knew roughly his age.

They walked, got lunch and endless cups of coffee. Ienzo found himself… looking forward to it, whenever Demyx asked him to meet up, rather than dreading those texts. A handful of times he accompanied Demyx on deliveries, and found to his surprise that he was indeed competent at his job. Scrooge tried to rope Ienzo into porting as well, in his own jovial, oddly-accented way, and he had to evade out of the conversation quickly.

But beneath these pieces… something else began to emerge, something Ienzo initially confused for companionship, or kinship. A warmth, a start of the heart. He no longer minded when Demyx touched him casually in conversation--a hand on the shoulder, a playful punch, a “hey come on” take of the hand when going somewhere. The touch… evoked something in him, vague and weirdly insidious.

Ienzo began to notice things.

The subtle way his hair blended, brown to blonde, the way he seemed to be so slowly growing it into something different. The precise color green his eyes turned when light hit them just right. How easily he moved through space, how comfortable he was in his own body. The way his lips moved when he spoke, the rhythm of his speech.

Why was it Ienzo was focusing on these things? What did it mean?

On the verge of sleep, weighed down by one of his pills, it came to him.

Oh. Oh no.

In his brief hours in the lab he was distracted, terrified. He thought he’d understood this as a Nobody, but it was clear he’d had no idea.

His humanity was waking up. So were… other things.

Demyx had mentioned a desire for a partner of some sort. Unlikely at the time he’d meant Ienzo. Ienzo had written all of that off as too difficult to compute. He figured he may be asexual and was fine with that. He’d no need for anything physical. Messy. Complicated.

He… was not asexual.

Ienzo began to feel something almost like a pull, between them. A desire for that innocent touch, a squeeze of the hand. Was it possible he felt this way because, again, Demyx was the only person he knew his age? It seemed natural that, with the awakening of these feelings, he’d latch onto whoever was closest.

It made him feel pathetic, and not quite in control of himself, not that he changed his outward interactions. If emotions were difficult to reign, hormones were completely impossible. He started having vague dreams of longing--arguably worse than the nightmares--and woke up frustrated in a wholly new way. Difficult, and embarrassing, to be finishing puberty at this age. He said nothing about it to anyone. Those few times he woke to find stains on his sheets and clothing, he took care of it and pretended nothing happened.

Why did this have to be happening now ? Of all the confounding variables?

Ienzo needed to ride out this attraction until its inevitable end. To even entertain the idea of anything more substantial than quickly-quashed daydreams was insane. So, sweetly he asked Even if, considering he’s feeling so much better , he may add a few more hours to his day, and thank you so much for the medicine . Ego stroked and paternity soothed, Even agreed. With his remaining hours, he began so tentatively to work on his power.

He could still manipulate the lexicon with relative ease, so that had been gained. Finding the illusion was going to be so much harder. He spent hours trying to recall how that felt, to create things where there was nothing, then trying to draw simple objects from memory. And they were drawings, barely-perceptible flickerings in the air, but the exertion still made him gasp for breath. Though it was progress. At least Ienzo had something to tell Kairi and Riku when he saw them face to face, or over the phone. At least he could give them hope.

But Demyx wasn’t that easy to brush off. “Zo, are you ignoring me?” he asked. His tone was joking, but Ienzo felt vaguely caught. (And vaguely angry that “Zo” was growing on him.)

“I’ve been taking a few more hours since I’ve been doing better,” he said.

“You’re not… pushing it too hard, are you?” he asked.

“I’m trying not to.” And he was; with magic use, he needed to be doubly careful how he treated his body.

Was it the light, or did he blush? “I miss our hangouts.”

Just the right thing to trip Ienzo up, to make his heart flutter-- it’s merely hormones, control yourself. “As do I.”

“I mean, I know this is like, important, big-picture stuff. But…” He hesitated. “Do you… have time, later? Just to talk?”

The sensible thing to do would be to nicely brush him off. “Maybe a few moments,” he said instead. How strange, to be at odds with his mind. A first.

He smiled. It was a wide, uncontained grin, one that changed his face, made it seem softer. “The greenhouse?”

Ienzo nodded once. “I’ll see you then.”

Only once he had returned to scouring data did he realize that getting both of them together in an enclosed, private space was one of the stupider moves he could’ve made. Demyx had blushed. Demyx had smiled. Was it possible that this… whatever it was… was mutual? Or was Demyx also merely feeling the backlog of hormonal impulses blunted by Nobody biology?

(And did it matter? Would it be so terrible to explore these feelings?)

(Yes, it would. Should it go south--the likely conclusion--they still lived together. He didn’t need more tension in his life.)

Ienzo should’ve made up an excuse that night and stayed in. He didn’t. He was so unused to managing impulses that he simply didn’t . Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The summer evening was cool, and he could hear the soft chirp of crickets. The air felt nice on his skin, freed at last from that infernal white coat and ascot at the throat. There was already a warm light emanating from the greenhouse, meaning Demyx was already there.

Not too late to turn back.

He took a deep breath. Took two.

The music he heard was soft, meandering, inviting. He’d never really listened to Demyx before when he played sitar, stubbornly tuning it out. Ienzo realized he was rather good , technically and aurally; it sounded light, effortless, the notes graceful and leaping like water. The boy’s power made sense, now. It all flowed.

Demyx wasn’t a scientist, but he was a student in his own ways. Ienzo felt the blood rush to his face. His hands trembled. His own internal protests were quickly waning. He opened the door. “Are you early, or am I late?”

Demyx looked up. The melody didn’t quite cease. “Believe it or not, I can actually be on time.”

“...Sorry about that.”

“I wanted to work on this anyway.”

Ienzo sat on one of the cushions. The space smelled vaguely like incense, a heady but oddly clean scent. “That’s something of your own creation?”

“Yessir.”

“I suppose you were always… composing, creating. Is it very much different, now that you’ve a heart?”

Demyx snorted. “It’s harder.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Really?”

“It’s easy to… approximate emotion,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “You know, this sounds like love, or anger, or whatever. To really feel those things, and then, say, to try and work on something with a completely different theme, is like wading through concrete.”

Hearing him speak so technically made Ienzo’s blush worsen. He wanted to reach out and take one of his hands. He gripped his ankle in an attempt to stop himself. “Have you been at this long?”

Demyx chuckled. “At least five years. Probably before that, I would guess, but… there’s nothing.” His expression changed, became wistful.

“Still? After all this time?”

He let the sitar vanish. The silence was particularly notable. “Yeah. I…” A laugh. “I had Even look at me. Neurologically, I think it’s called? There’s nothing… physical about the memory loss. So it must’ve been… whatever brought me here, from the past.”

“Forgive me… I quite forgot that��s the truth of your life.” Even had told him as such, scowlingly, in disbelief.

Demyx shrugged. “You’ve got a lot on your mind. Sometimes I forget.”

“Do you want your memories?”

He leaned back on his hands. “I go back and forth,” he said. “On the one hand, not knowing about the trauma that’s, uh, for sure there is awesome. On the other… it’s like… who am I really, you know?”

“I remember everything, and I feel much the same,” Ienzo said softly.

His smile was sad now. He reached into a crate and pulled out two bottles.

“Beer?”

“Nah. I hate beer. Cider. It’s sweet. Want it?”

Ienzo doubted one drink would kill him. “...Why not.”

He popped the top for him. “Ha. That’s the spirit. I mean. You are legal.”

He scoffed a little. The drink was fizzy, sweet and also metallic. It was a taste of summer, he thought. “I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you this is my first real drink.”

“Really?”

“...I was too young. Then, I never wanted to… cloud my mind.” Ienzo sighed. “I wouldn’t mind taking the edge off things.”

Demyx laughed a little. “Hate to break it to you, but I only have the two and I doubt you’ll get turnt off that.”

“...You’re probably right.”

“Maybe you and me could go to the bar some time. Try it out.”

He looked into the mouth of the brown bottle. “Not sure nightlife is for me.”

“You never know until you try something.”

“I… suppose I should never say never.” After all, he’d never thought he’d like sitting here with Demyx, their knees almost touching. “Maybe. Yes, that might be nice.”

For a few moments they finished their drinks in silence. He definitely wasn’t drunk, or even tipsy, but he did feel a little warm. The lantern cast softened the room, almost pinkish. Perhaps it was the memories of calm here, perhaps it was the ambiance or simply not being alone, but Ienzo found himself… relaxing. The sudden lack of tension in his muscles felt strange. “I remember why I used to love this place. It’s very calming.”

“On a good day you can see the stars,” Demyx said. “Look. Here.” He reached over and snuffed out the lantern. “Lay back.”

The cushions were odd, lumpy. It wasn’t totally dark; there was enough moonlight for the silhouettes to be clear. Ienzo looked up through the crystal ceiling. “Been a while since I looked up,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“The feeling of insignificance. But it’s surprisingly reassuring.”

“You think?”

“Well, the world is bigger than just us, don’t you think?”

“I do,” he said softly.

Ienzo could feel Demyx looking at him. A nervousness, a fizz, spread throughout his body, completely different than anxiety. Arguably, the opposite of it. He should fight this. Should get up and leave right now. Instead, he shifted, just slightly, onto his side so they were locking eyes. With a shaking hand, Demyx touched his cheek, a touch that made him shiver.

“...I…” Demyx’s voice cracked. “Have you also been… feeling this?”

So it was mutual. Oh. Oh, no. He tried to keep it together. He had to fight this. Didn’t want to. “Yes,” he admitted.

“Oh,” he said, very softly, with the same sort of fear Ienzo felt.

“I know.”

“I tried to stop.” He almost sounded as though he might cry.

“Me too.”

“What do we--do?”

“Well…” That touch did feel so nice. “As I see it… there are two options. We both walk out of here and forget this ever happened.”

“Or?”

He took a trembling breath. “We see it through.”

“What do you want?”

“I think…” He was trembling all over. “I think I would like to stop thinking.”

There was a moment when they both very clearly knew what was about to happen, but did nothing. Demyx inched closer to him, so they were almost touching; Ienzo could smell him again, the salt and ginger. He rested his hand on Demyx’s waist, and feeling the warmth of him under clothing was purely too much.

They both met in the middle, awkward, not quite meeting one another’s lips the first time. Ienzo shifted up a little and tried again. Demyx’s lips were so soft against his own. It became clear very quickly that neither of them had done this before; they weren’t sure what to do. For some reason Ienzo figured Demyx had some experience. After a moment they pulled apart.

“I suppose,” he began softly, still reeling more from the fact that he’d kissed more than the kiss itself, “It’s rather obvious I’ve never done this.”

He laughed a little. “I don’t think I have either--if I did, I don’t remember.”

“A learning curve, then.” He’d figured it’d have been natural, instant. He thought of the feel of Demyx’s lips. “Let’s try again.”

“Okay.”

It took a moment or so of fumbling and discomfort before they seemed to get it. This was more what Ienzo thought it would feel like, a fragile give and take. It was all so gentle . They were both shaking. He hadn’t realized how exhausting fighting this attraction had been. Giving into it made him feel more awake than he had in days.

He wanted to go further. Couldn’t. Already a dangerous frazzle of overstimulation was breaking over him. He wasn’t used to platonic touch, much less this; he was overloading his own wires.

“I like this. I do,” Ienzo said. He felt his eyes watering, an anxiety of too much too much threatening his tenuous moment of joy. “But I’m so… it’s so much. I have to…” He sat up and pulled away, shivering as if he were cold.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m afraid as a human… I get very overwhelmed by stimuli,” he forced out. “I used to as a child.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “Can I… how can I help?”

“I need space. Calm, quiet.”

“Should I go?”

He considered. Despite it all… the last thing he wanted to be was alone. “No, stay.”

[petri808]

Mirror’s of the Soul

Hau’oli la Hanau!  Happy Birthday!  @dark0angel13  Hawaii misses you ;)

Based on the folklore of a “dog-man” in Hawaii called the Kaupe.  Spun to be a werewolf AU lol, but with a twist.  The Kaupe was used in the DC tv show Legends of Tomorrow.  It was pointed out to me that Lucy’s character reminded them of character from Witcher 3 as well lol.

~~~~~ Nalu AU one-shot

Lucy had heard the wild rumors of the dog-man of Nu’uanu Valley, but she chalked it up to Hawaiian folklore.  These islands were full of such supernatural tales, and as a transplanted college student, seemed more like ghost stories intended to keep children from misbehaving.  She hadn’t heard of any actual werewolves confirmed in the last few centuries, and this was probably not a real case.  As far as she was concerned, superstitious hocus-pocus wasn’t going to keep her from hiking in the valley.  It’s lush rainforests, waterfalls, or Pali cliff overlooks were stunning, especially near sunset or sunrise.  A slice of nature surrounded by a growing metropolis.  

While the professor droned on at the front of the lecture hall, one of her closest friends slides into the seat next to her.

“You’re late Natsu,” she whispers, “class started 20 minutes ago.”

“Did I miss much?” the young man retorts.  Lucy shakes her head.  “Then I’m not late at all,” he grins back.

She rolls her eyes but can’t help a chuckle from escaping.  “Got any plans this weekend?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” he shifts in his seat, “but should be free Sunday.”

“How about you take me on a Dave ‘N Busters date Sunday so I can kick your ass at RD again.”

“You’re on!”

The next morning, Lucy awakens to perfect outdoor weather.  Balmy breezes lightly shifting her curtains and blue skies as far as the eye could see.  It seemed her roommate hadn’t made it back to their dorm in the night, probably staying the weekend with her boyfriend off campus.  Lucy sighs, and turns on her bed facing the window, maybe one day she’ll be able to do the same.  Yeah sure, Hell might freeze over before Natsu saw her in that way.  He was the best of friend that any could be, but no matter how many times she threw subtle hints or flirted with him, it all seemed to go right over his head.  Oh well, the times they spent together sufficed, but for now the valley was calling her name.

Not only did she like simply being surrounded by the peace and tranquility the forest could provide, it also served as a perfect, distraction free place to write her stories. Notebook, extra pens, fully charged laptop, trusty outdoor blanket, lunch, and ready to go, she ascends the Lulumahu Falls trail.  It was only a 2-mile hike round trip, but unlike some of the other trails in the area, this one cut through a bamboo grove and wasn’t one of the official paths.  As such, traffic tended to be lighter with fellow hikers opting for the maintained trails instead.

She reaches the end of the line and finds a shady area with large flat boulders to sit on.  Thank goodness for the recent sunny weather.  The trail had been mud-free, humidity was lower, and the air was crisp.  Lucy takes out her laptop, balancing it on her thighs and gets to work, letting the sounds of the forest send her into a rhythm.  Her words flowed forth like the gentle burbling of the nearby stream of the same namesake.  Hands gliding across the keyboard like the chirping birds around her.  Every now and again there was a crackle of a falling branch, or footsteps of a fellow nature seeker, but she paid these no mind, her characters keeping her enthralled.

It was great when ideas came to her so easily.  The infamous writers block plagued her from time to time, but not today, and it wasn’t until the light was growing dim that she realized how long she’d been in the writing zone.  Oh crap!  It may still be warm for fall, but the sun also set quicker in these later months.  She checks the time on her phone and guestimates another hour tops before she needed to get out of there.  Alright, this chapter was almost finished, she could make it!

She didn’t make it.

And by the time she’d stumbled into what she assumed was the Kaniakapupu Ruins, it was dark, cell phone coverage was nil, and it was growing a bit chilly.  Thank goodness for her blanket!  Lucy had two options, keep trying to find her way out through unmarked trails and risk getting more lost, or staying put until morning.  The clear skies were in her favor and the bright harvest moon chased away some of the darkness.  She groans and finds a decent rock to plop onto, guess she’ll just hunker down for the night.  

About a half mile away, deeper into the Nu’uanu valley, something catches the scent of the lone female, but that wasn’t good, for he recognized the scent.  ‘What is she doing here and on this night of all nights?!’  He came here to hide during this phase of the month, an ancient calling against his bloodline to guard the heiau of Kaheiki.  Legend has it, his ancestor had impregnated a human female shortly before being killed by a chief from the island of Hawaii, and to atone for that progenitor’s misdeed’s, a descendant was born as a Kaupe every hundred years or so to guard the heiau of the priest that helped to stop it’s rampage.

A thousand years later, it was Natsu’s bad luck that this curse fell upon his generation and with puberty came the confirmation.  He tried consulting the most knowledgeable kahuna’s and priests he could find in the hopes of breaking the curse, but they all told him the same thing, this was his ancestors atonement and only the gods could see fit to change that.  Yeah, well his family had been punished enough for something they hadn’t even done.  It wasn’t fair in this modern era to keep suffering like this.  All he wanted to do was settle down some day like a normal person, but who would want a freak like him?

Natsu’s worries were confirmed the moment he crept up to the ruins and sees Lucy sitting on a rock all bundled up.  With his keener eye sight, he can see her hiking back pack near her feet and puts two and two together that she must have gotten lost.  He could only imagine how cold she must be with nothing more than a light blanket to stay warm with.  At least his fur helped with that, but it was still another 10 more hours before the sun will rise.  Natsu paces as he weighs his options.  Great, so what should he do?  He couldn’t leave her all alone.  But if he made his presence known it might scare the wits out of her.  

He fails to realize that Lucy is now staring in his direction.  It was strange at first the mixed scent of Natsu and canine.  She couldn’t see him through the darkness but knew he was out there somewhere, but putting the clues together and it wasn’t a total shock.  Lucy groans internally at the irony.  The man had been keeping a secret, though she was no better.

“Natsu,” she lets out an exasperated exhale and stands up.  “You might as well come out I know you’re there.”  

That was impossible!  How could Lucy know that he was there in the first place, and second, he wasn’t some random person!  He hears her sigh.  

“Natsu, I can pick up on your scent, now please just come out.”

With a lot of trepidation, he steps beyond the tree line into the clearing.  “Lucy… but how??”

“Just come closer,” she sits back on her rock, “we both have a lot of explaining to do.”

Okay things were getting a little weird, and considering he was the werewolf, to think this was all really strange was… Weird!  No one outside of his family had ever seen him in this form because he’d done well to stay completely hidden from humans, and even though clearly this woman knew it was him, Natsu was still hesitant to let Lucy see him for what he was.  It was also a bit unnerving how unfazed she seemed to be.  He finds a fallen log about 10 feet away from her and sits down on the edge of it.  If he needed to take off again, it would only take mere seconds to do so.

Lucy adjusts the blanket around her body, then props her head with her hand against her knee.  “I assume you are confused?”  Natsu nods.  “Back home, my family hails from a long line of hunters…. Creature hunters.”  She tips her head, “I remember my mom telling me how my great, great, grandfather immigrated to America to establish a line of Heartfilia’s in the new world.  I think it’s silly and I moved here to get away from it all because I didn’t want to continue the tradition.”  An exasperated sigh escapes her lips.  “How ironic that I run into one so easily.”

“That still doesn’t make sense.  How did you know it was me?”

She taps her nose.  “I can track.  Look I know it seems strange, and it’s not normal for a human to do that so easily.  How do I explain it…  Somewhere in my family line, an ancestor was imbued with a few abilities.  I can’t see in the dark, which is why I’m stuck here, but an enhanced olfactory system allows me to detect scents, especially inhuman ones.”

“And, what do creature hunters do exactly?” his voice filled with an air of hesitancy.

“In the old days, they hunted to kill.”

Natsu tenses up and leans back, “should I leave?”

Lucy just waves her hand, “I came here to Hawaii to get away from that life.  Just wanted to be normal, ya know, but it seems I can’t run away from it either.”  She shivers as a breeze funnels through the clearing.

“Are you cold Lucy?  I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket or anything and I can’t leave the area till morning.”

“Why not?  In fact,” she pats the area next to her, “come closer and tell me your story.  It’s only fair since I shared mine.”

“I--I really don’t like anyone seeing me like this, you’re the first outside of my family to.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you and I don’t care what you look like.  I know you’re still you.”  Natsu shakes his head.  “Suit yourself.”  Lucy stands up, gathers the blanket around her and trudges over.

“Wait, what are you doing!” Natsu scrambles to his feet, tripping, and falling backwards over the log with a thud.

She rushes over to help him up, “Are you okay?!”

He rubs the back of his head, “I’ve got a hard head,” he winces, “more my pride that got hurt.”

Lucy chuckles, “see,” she pulls him to his feet, “should’a just stayed still.”

After getting him to come back to the rock with her, Lucy pulls her feet into a cross-legged position. “Alright, now spill.”

With a deep exhale, Natsu lets the words flow.  Everything he knows about his family, the curse, and what it’s like to be a Kaupe….  

All the while Lucy sits quietly not wanting to interrupt him.  She’d heard other tales of werewolves, old legends and such, including the idea of a curse causing the transformation.  Though this was the first time she’d heard of a curse carrying on through a bloodline before.  Guess, there is a first time for everything.  The tale he told was heartrending.  Their family’s ancestor may have been cursed because of a cold-blooded killer nature, but the man sitting next to her was nothing like that.  Natsu would give you the shirt off his back if you were in need and he always made her feel safe, especially at night.  If only there was a way to break the curse.    

Having determined for herself what kind of soul lay behind his Olivine hues, the longer she stared at him, it occurred to her that Natsu… wasn’t that bad looking in this condition.  Hawaii didn’t have wolves so did that make him more of a Weredog?  Not that she truly knew what a werewolf or weredog was supposed to look like since old tales differed on appearance.  Some depicted them as more human with canine features, others as more canine-like and barely human anymore.  Almost all of the stories described large fangs and claws dripping with blood, no ability to discern right from wrong or with any human consciousness left.  Boy were they wrong in this case!  Natsu was fully aware of himself and more scared than she was.  

His human fangs did look a bit longer than normal, his eyes still green but more canine-esque, with claws on his fingers and toes.  Tufts of fur covered the parts of his body that she could see, but he wore a t-shirt and baggy pants, so it wasn’t much.  A tail was definitely coming out of his lower back with pointy ears growing through his pink head hair.  Lucy tips her head, those ears were really cute!  She wondered what he would do if she rubbed them…

“Ahem.  Are you even paying attention anymore?!”

“Huh?”  Lucy shakes her head.  “Sorry,” her face flushes and she’s glad it’s too dark to see it.  “Curiosity and all.”

“I can’t let you touch them, so don’t even think about it.”

“Touch what?”

Natsu rolls his eyes, “my ears that you’ve been staring at for a solid 5 minutes.”

“Oh, why not,” she pouts.

“Because they are sensitive.”  Okay that was a semi-lie.  They were sensitive but rubbing them made him feel good in a provocative manner.  “So, as I was saying, we have no idea how to break the curse, no one in the family ever knows who in the next generations will become the next one, but it usually happens when the current Kaupe is close to death.”

“Is this why you’ve never tried to make a move on me?”

Well that was blunt!  “Um, I guess, yeah…” he scratches his head, “wh-what makes you think I would have?”

Lucy shrugs her shoulders a little sad by his response, “wishful thinking, I guess.  Anyways, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me Natsu.”

“Y-you know Lucy,” he averts his eyes to the ground, “if I had… asked… what would you have answered?”

“Yes,” she turns his chin back and smiles, “I do like you, if that wasn’t already obvious.”  Chuckling, “I just figured you only saw me as a friend.”

He takes a leap, “what about now, even after knowing this about me?”

“Hmm,” Lucy leans against him, resting her head on his furry shoulder, “the huntress and the werewolf,” she chuckles, “it sounds like a movie plot, but,” she looks up and smiles, “yeah, I’d still like to be your leading lady.”

[lunamoonprism90-blog]

First blog

Hey there.  As the title says, this is my first blog!  

I’ve got to be honest, I am pretty scared doing this but I am hoping that I can overcome that and use this platform to express feelings and topics I want to write about :).  

I don’t mind if anyone ever reads this, to be honest this is just for me.  So, lets start! 

A little bit of the basic stuff about me - 

I’m 29 and live in London, UK.  I’m married and have a doggo, I have a decent job.  Seem’s like a pretty average, nice life. 

Here’s the thing (and the reason I wanted to start this blog), I have depression and have problems with anxiety.  Usually, like 80% of the time I’m pretty much okay, or at least I sort of just muddle through the every day. 

A bit of a background on my “journey with depression and anxiety” - As a young child, I was painfully shy around others.  I was always nervous to make friends by myself, I’d usually wait for people to speak to me first.  Of course, growing up I had plenty of friends though!  I was always scared to go anywhere by myself, I clung to my parents quite a bit.  Even at a young age, of about 3 or 4 I would make up excuses to try get out of situations that frightened me. 

As I got older, I did gain some confidence but I was still pretty quiet.  Especially when it came to something I felt ZERO confidence in, such as maths classes (I suck at maths haha).  I could never quite understand what it was I was missing, or why I didn’t understand what was being explained in class.  Moving on, PUBERTY!  Puberty hit me early on, in primary school in fact.  I started to develop way earlier than my friends.  I did for the most part ignore it, thinking my friends will catch up and we’ll be the same eventually.  Secondary school started and I think this is when the issue with my body started to come in to play.  My friends all grew and stayed slim.  I stayed the same height from early on in my teens.  My boobs were bigger than my friends and I hated that I had a much bigger chest than everyone else.  I looked at myself as short and podgy and so began the comparison of myself to others.  I had braces for a large chunk of my teens too - this is also made me very wary of my appearance. 

Looking back, I was very slim as a teen and I weighed only about 7 and a half stone, but I thought I was fat/chubby.  There was a point when I was hanging around with some girls who were pretty cruel to not only myself but to my other friends too.  They made me feel ugly.  I get why they did it - they were deeply insecure themselves.  Teenagers are, I’ve not met a teen in my whole life who isn’t insecure about something!  Its normal, I guess? 

The older I got, I started to doubt myself and due to that I let myself fail in a number of areas, one being school.  I let boys affect my mood and I allowed myself to base my whole being off of them and how they made me feel, whether it be happy or sad (mainly the latter).  I as cruelly compared to other young girls and told I was second best etc.  What a thing to tell anyone, but looking back again it was coming from another teenager who definitely did not know the severity of their words.  Words that I would carry on with me even to this day. 

I met my future husband at quite a young age (still a teen though) - 17 years old.  He helped marginally with my confidence, but at the same time could knock it all away with a click of his fingers.  I wanted to be perfect for him, I wanted to be number 1.  Because of all the self doubt I had about myself, I struggled to see that I was number 1 to him.  Not to say that me and my husband haven’t had bad times and that he is perfect.  Far from it, but I’ll explain more on that shortly. 

In to my 20′s now and I started to slowly put on weight, I had fallen out with a lot of my school friends.  I was becoming isolated and pretty miserable.  At 20 I went to uni.  The next 4 years at uni were hard, extremely hard.  I felt guilty for going to to uni - my husband had his own insecurities about me going to uni (bear in mind I didn’t move away for uni and in fact lived only 20 minutes away).  I struggled to feel worthy at uni.  I compared myself to others, everyone was so much smarter than I was.  They always knew what to say and they had good grades etc... so I started to despise others in my classes and my anxiety started to sky rocket.  I was also working part time whilst studying too, which added on extra pressure.  I would come home from either uni or work and lock myself in the bathroom (despite usually being home alone) and I would cry.  Sob in fact.  I would start to contemplate suicide then - always the thought of hanging myself.  The self harming would start then too, but I thought I was always pretty smart about it.  I wanted to continue to seem to everyone else that I was okay, so I would hit myself... bruise the top of my legs, pinch myself and dig my nails in.  I never wanted anything permanent as I never wanted to anyone to find out my secret.  My husband found out though.  (we still wasn’t married at this time, e was living together though).  He didn’t fully understand, I’m not sure if he still does.  He has listened to me crying over the years and tried to help, but at the same time he has also made it worse.  Our arguments have been pretty bad over the years and usually would be to do with our equally low self-esteem. 

I have never felt good enough for him.  When we first got together, I was already pretty insecure as I said before and there was another young girl who my future husband at the time as still interested in/had feelings for.  This girl, although I’m not sure if she ever knew was the basis for A LOT of our horrible arguments in our late teens and early 20′s.  Because of this we have both become horribly insecure about each of us having friends of the opposite sex, or even friends who could be “influential” to us.  Anyway, I have never felt good enough for him... he has left me quite a few times, especially in the recent years (once this year) and yes I do understand it’s been because of his insecurities too but I really am not sure if he knows the impact this has had on me. 

2019 has been one hell of a rough year.  My grandmother has dementia and lives in a care home, my brother is currently under going treatment for cancer.  I feel pretty miserable in my job and I was in a car crash in the summer too.  I don’t have any close friends anymore, so I find it hard to talk to anyone. In the last recent weeks I have felt at my lowest and I have attempted/contemplated suicide twice.  I have been neglecting my anti-depressants and I have had panic attacks. 

My depression not only affects me mentally, but physically too.  I over-eat, meaning that slow weight gain has most certainly caught up over the years.  I struggle to be motivated/go out to places.  I am always so tired, I could actually sleep for days on end if I as allowed.  I have multiple knots and tension in my shoulder and I have actually been signed off work for stress this week.  But I am using this week to change how I am feeling.  To take the time for me and to heal these wounds.  Of course it is going to take longer than this week, but I am hoping to kick-start it this week and really take the time to focus on ME.  

I am going to be writing more posts of what I have tried and going to be trying for the rest of this week and any tips I have found helpful in the past.  

And maybe some more just about me :). 

Thanks!! 

LunaMoonPrism

[illusinia]

Untitled

A random untitled thing I did because someone inspired me to make Kylo and Armitage cousins playing the biggest spy game ever. Their grandmother would be proud. Also, sorry for the long scroll. I can't find the button for read more on the app.

Armitage's parents are Mara Jade and Like Skywalker in this.

Pairs: Darkpilot and oneside Reyux, all just discusse

Summary: Kylo and Armitage have a moment to talk and joke around while undercover at the FO.

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

“Don't you look awful,” remarked Kylo as he swept into Hux's room, eying the man wearily. His cousin flipped him off in response, downing a glass of Corellian whiskey as he did. Both of Kylo's eyebrows shot up. “Rough day?”

“I hate this sometimes,” replied Hux, leaning his head back over the edge of his chair. “Pretending to be an ambitious power hungry prick is only fun when I can repress the rest of my instincts.”

Kylo whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Who was it? Only another person could make you this mopy. And please, don't say Phasma. That woman makes my skin crawl.”

“You just don't like dominant women,” remarked Armitage with a scoff, rolling his eyes. “I can see the appeal.”

“Oh force it's Phasma,” groaned Kylo in a melodramatic tone. “She's going to crush your heart. Literally. Crush it and eat it.”

Armitage rolled his eyes, pouring himself another glad. “Actually, she prefers her hearts pureed. Easier to drink.”

“That's just morbid,” remarked Kylo as he swiped the liquor bottle from Armitage, threatening wordlessly to drink from it.

Armitage scowled in response, snagging a glass from his cabinet. “Don’t be an animal.”

“You mean like your dad?” teased Kylo as he took the glass and poured himself a finger. “He's planning to mess with Rey when she gets to Ach-to to ask for training. Apparently there are these big, green-milk secreting creatures and he's going to milk one in front of her and drink it to drive her away.”

“That would certainly drive me away,” mumbled Armitage as he took a slower sip of his glass, shoulders hunching a bit.

Kylo froze, glass half to his lips as he turned his head slowly to stare at his cousin. “No.”

“What?” bristled Armitage, a blush growing over his cheeks.

“Seriously?” asked Kylo, his group pulling wide across his lips. “Seriously, Rey? The scavenger from Jakku?”

“What?!” squawked Armitage, a blush covering his cheeks. “Why would you think that?”

“A Hutt’s fat slug body, you're crushing on Rey!” the sheer glee in his voice was impossible to suppress. If anything, Armitage blushed deeper.

“Must you use terms like that?” asked Armitage with a groan, pressing his face into his arm. “I hate when my father uses them and I particularly hate when you do! They're so ridiculous.”

“Hey, that one came from my dad, not yours,” remarked Kylo, a smirk curling over his lips as he sipped his drink. “You're crushing on the girl who nearly killed me.”

“I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?” asked Armitage with a groan, glancing up at Kylo wearily.

Kylo grinned and nudged Armitage's shoulder gently. “After all the shit you gave Poe and I when we were teenagers, I'm pretty sure you deserve it.”

“You two had sex in the bunk directly over mine,” grumbled Armitage. “I think kicking your mattress was somewhat warranted. Besides, Poe is the one who ofo join me, if you'll recall.”

“Yep, and I kicked him out of the bunk for that joke,” reminded Kylo with a grin, talking a sip of his drink.

“Yes, I recall. He was completely naked.” Armitage paused a second before adding: “is he actually as endowed as he appeared to be?”

“Oh yeah,” confirmed Kylo with a sigh. He missed Poe. It was the worst part about this whole thing. The only relief he got were the occasions where he got shore leave or some other opportunity to ex m escape and meet Poe somewhere. They'd only been able to see each other 15 times in the last nine years. “I'll be glad when this is finished.”

“We won't see either of you for a month, will we?” asked Armitage with a smirk, albeit a sad one. He’d realized as soon as he started this entire charade that he didn't have someone like Poe waiting for him. No one had really noticed that he had disappeared. Sure, his aunt had asked about him, but he had never had many friends. And the few he had were involved in this whole fiasco. He wouldn't have somebody like Poe to go to when this was all done. Well, assuming he survived.

“Probably not, if my mother will leave us alone long enough,” admitted Kylo with a sheepish smile. “At least neither of us can get pregnant.”

“Oh please, you two would already have three children if you could with all the sex you had during puberty.” He was pretty sure those two had sex every opportunity they got.

“Please, no one would want to have children with me,” scoffed Kylo, one of his boots bumping the bar. “Especially no one who saw my gangly teenage self. I'm still not sure what Poe saw in me.”

“He loves you, Kylo. Don't doubt that. Any man who stays with you for nine years even when you can't see each other much loves you,” reasoned Armitage sadly. He wished he could find something, someone, like that. He'd never been lucky that way though.

“Doesn't mean he'd have kids with me, just that he hasn't realized he could do better,” replied Kylo quietly, before pointing a finger at Armitage. “Now stop trying to change the subject. Rey, seriously?”

“I'm not discussing this with you,” stated Armitage firmly, downing his drink again.

“Who else are you going to discuss it with, Phasma? She'll just laugh at you. Or sit on you for having feelings.” Kylo shook his head, raising a hand to feign misery. “Or perhaps you'll sit there, resigned to misery over a love never realized.”

“Or maybe I'll simply kick your ass for being a dramatic prick.” Armitage felt his lips twitch up though, a smile tugging at the corners at Kylo's absolutely ridiculous activities. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it makes you smile when you're being your own version of dramatic,” alerted kylo, taking a drink of his whiskey. “Like your dad.”

“Please, I'm more like my mother,” dismissed Armitage cooly. “Calm, cool under pressure, and emotionally stable.”

Kylo burst into laughter at that, hand slapping the table as he laughed. He nearly fell off his stool, he was laughing so hard. “You can't be serious!” he gasped, blinking at Armitage in disbelief. “Do you know how many times I saw Mara throw something at your father when he was being dense? Or when she was just plain pissed with him?”

“Are you telling me you wouldn't do the same?” countered Armitage with a raised eyebrow. “You know how recalcitrant he can be.”

“Oh I remember,” assured Kylo with a grin, still chuckling. “Even if I didn't, you're just as bad sometimes.”

“I am not!” exclaimed Armitage, agast. “You take that back!”

“Nope, you got your dad's stubborn nature,” dismissed Kylo with a grin. “And I'm sure once you finally meet Rey, you'll charm her just like your father charmed your mother.”

“I think my mother tried to kill him,” remarked Armitage, brow furrowing slightly. “There was something about a big stick and an alleyway.”

“Hey, Rey has a big stick! It's perfect!” exclaimed Kylo, like everything was somehow magically solved.

“Force, you've gone completely mad,” groaned Armitage before he banged his head on the counter. “You've been working with Snoke too long, you've lost your mind.”

“Your mom tried to kill your dad when they met, my mom stole your dad's blaster and made everyone jump in a trash compactor, Poe almost fell on me when we met,” pointed out Kylo as he stood and stretched. “I think there's a pattern of our family facing mortal danger to meet our significant others.”

“Lovely,” remarked Armitage, frowning a bit. “How did our grandparents meet again?”

“Apparently grandfather won grandmother and her Jedi guard a part to fix their ship while pod racing,” replied Kylo with a smirk. “And then again when he got assigned as her guard after someone tried to kill her.”

Armitage groaned, banging his head on the counter. “Damn, there is a pattern.”

“Or we're all just naturally attracted to people who try to kill us or save us by doing dangerous things,” reasoned Kylo as he reached over to pat Armitage's back. “Either way, you'll fall in love with someone eventually, probably someone who tries to kill you.”

“Yes, because that's such an appealing thought,” muttered Armitage against the counter.

“Hey, at least you know if Rey tries to kill you, it's meant to be,” teased Kylo as he patted Armitage's back before turning to leave. “I'd better get back to my quarters. Get some sleep, Armitage. You need it.”

Sighing, Armitage nodded and murmured a soft “Goodnight Ben”. He heard the door to his quarters hiss open and shut. Listened as his cousin's footsteps echoed down the hall until he couldn't hear them anymore.

With a sigh, he downed the rest of his drink, then did the same with the remainder of Kylo's. He didn't have the heart to argue with him about Rey. About how, like Poe, he was sure the vibrant young woman would find his cousin far more attractive than him and, much like Poe, would find herself lusting for the younger man. He'd resigned himself to the fact years ago that kylo was simply the more attractive of the two of them.not physically per se, but he had an energy about him that attracted people. Be that attraction good or bad.

Sighing again, Armitage hosted himself up from his seat and began to make his way towards his bedroom. Perhaps tonight he would even have a dreamless sleep.

...Yeah, right. And a Hutt would weigh under 500 kills.

[dude1sh]

50 eldonado

50. Writer’s Choice

I decided to do number 20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” because I’m a slut :)

-

Of course, Peter would be the type to fall asleep at a party because he was drunk. Absolute pussy. Like, why couldn’t he be like Ming, a complete skinny boi (yes, that ‘i’ was needed) who actually goes hard as fuck when drinking? Even though Peter is very far from being stick thin, he actually has some muscles underneath those stupid grey sweatshirts, but that’s beside the point.

Not that he thinks about Peter’s kind-of-barely-there muscles, like, that often.Okay, maybe he does think about it often, don’t remind him. 

He knows he shouldn’t get the obligatory crush on his possibly straight(?) best friend. But he a bit of a bisexual disaster, more so a general disaster but you get the point.

It happened like this. 

A couple of years ago, Sam and Peter were fresh out of middle school, puberty hitting the both of them hard, Both of their hormones were revved up to the max and Sam was kinda in a gay/bi crisis; A crisis that Peter motherfucking Maldonado caused.

It was around September, which September in California meant sunshine and high temperatures, so they both decided to hit the pool and cool off a bit, maybe have some fun for they had recently just learned that high school was stressful as fuck and nothing like middle school.

Going to the pool, was a bad idea. Because as soon as they dropped their bags on one of the chairs, Peter went to take off his shirt, ready to jump in. It practically happened in slow motion for Sam, something about Peter’s slightly lanky and awkward body seemed to do something for Sam, for his breath hitched and his heartbeat sped up.

Aka, the start of a gay crisis. Unlike Peter, he doesn’t have asthma, so he couldn’t blame the tightness in his chest on a medical condition.

Now, 3 years later, he’s got it pretty much figured out. He may or may not still have a stupid crush on his stupidly amazing best friend, and also still in denial about how intense his feelings are for the said friend, hence the use of the word “crush” and not “love”. Currently, they were at Randall Snyder’s end of the year party, finally back from shooting season 2 of American Vandal. It was all fun and games, literal drinking games as well, getting fucked up on 4lokos and Smirnoff raspberry vodka, people passing blunts and juuls. Sam was currently playing beer pong with the remainder of the Morning Show 9 crew, the ones who haven’t left for college. However, Sam didn’t know exactly where Peter was at the moment, and although he wanted to search for him, he really loved beer pong. He was also, very drunk.

Then, someone screams just the word “Cops!”, and All Hell Broke Loose. People start running towards the back door, rushing out of every exit they could find, but Sam; he was looking for Peter.

It doesn’t take long for him to find Peter, for he was the only one not moving.  Probably because he was fucking passed out. So, Sam drunkenly ran over to him, and taps him on the shoulder, trying to jostle him awake. It didn’t work. So, he practically bitch-slaps Peter, hard. Which made Peter groan but it was not enough to make him wake up, Like what the fuck.

“You need to wake up, I can’t do this without you!” Sam yells/slurs at him, he can’t just run from the cops and leave Peter here, his Peter, his homeboy, his dumb crush, Sam would never do that to him. So, like Jonah Hill in SuperBad, he threads his arms underneath Peter, and picks him up bridal style, and runs.  

Peter, however, is much heavier than he looks. Maybe he has such a big dick that it makes him weigh another 20 pounds, or something. So, Sam’s sprint is a bit straggled, but that could also be attributed to the fact that he is pretty fucking drunk, for Madison is really good at beer pong. He runs past the bushes, so incredibly grateful the gate was already open, and books it into the forest behind them. He runs and runs and runs until his muscles are aching and burning; until he can’t hold the both of them up anymore. They’re technically lost in the middle of a forest by the time he collapses on the ground, a couple sticks lowkey stabbing him, but he’s too drunk, tired and full of adrenaline to notice.

The force of the fall is enough to jolt Peter out of his drunken slumber, his popping his head up and slurring words that Sam can’t understand. He’s also genuinely surprised (and also very grateful) that they both didn’t vomit.

“Wha..t? Where’re we?” Peter asks, eyes drooped and his head moving around in panic.

“A forest, you… You didn’t wake up, and the cops were ‘ere and so I hadda get ‘ou.” Sam explains, his hands moving around vaguely.

“Woah… thanks, dude.” Peter says with extreme gratitude like Sam took a bullet for him, or something.

“No ‘roblem, anything for you dude,” Sam tells him, his words full of warmth and love and mushy feelings.

“Anything… for ‘e?” Peter asks, his voice quiet, it sounds like he’s asking for more, wondering exactly how much Sam would do for him. The actual answer scares Sam, because really, he would do anything for Peter.

“Yeah, bruh, I ‘uckin’ love you, ‘ou’re my bro,” Sam tells him, drunk enough to be genuine, but not drunk enough to 'no homo’ him by saying 'bro’. That’s what straight guys do, right?

“Bro,” Peter says, maybe to himself, or to Sam, and leans in, closing the distance between the two. Sam, is confused at first, not sure what to do because Peter just kissed him? And Peter was still very sloppily kissing him, even though Sam was frozen against his mouth. This is all he’s ever wanted, something he’s dreamed about more times than he’s willing to admit, and he’s frozen.

But Sam is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he gets over this weird internal crisis he’s having, kisses back.

[mininky]

   I'm feeling a bizarre need to wax nostalgic after talking to a client today. This will be very long and smattered with details that might seem unnecessary but I feel are needed to paint an accurate picture. This is the story about how I learned that shitting on fandoms makes you worse than however shitty you think that fandom is. Also, this does go over sensitive topics such as abuse so please read at your own risk.

   Years ago, in the olden days of myspace when only college students could use facebook and tumblr was most likely but a mere thought I had hit an odd time in my life. Puberty hit me like a freight train the summer before I was to start high school. I had always been a very, very small child. I was the runt of the litter, born barely over three pounds, and that continued most of my life. Until right before high school. Prior to the sudden thrust into young adulthood, I had been small enough to still fit into most of my kindergarten clothes, I was just that small. Also, most of my clothes were thrift finds that were slightly too big, so that did have a part to play in this. And then came that summer, the summer from hell. For the first time I weighed over 100 pounds, and I'm pretty sure my rapidly growing chest was honestly what helped tip that scale. I went from not needing a training bra (whatever the fuck those are for) to suddenly being a full C and still growing, grew about four inches over summer, and had old ladies telling me I had child birthing hips at church (which can I just add is really fucking creepy to say to a fucking child.) (Not to mention the sudden learning of catcalls and creepy adult men.)

   I can distinctly remember around the fourth time I told my mother in a period of about three months I didn't fit the bra she literally bought just the month prior her breaking down and saying that she couldn't afford to keep getting new ones. Luckily I worked at a used bookstore and while I was only paid in books (it was honestly a great deal for me) the owner felt so bad when I told her this she gave me a couple hundred bucks cash. That was when I first learned that tits are fucking expensive.

   As with all young teenagers entering into high school I was scared shitless. I had somehow managed to convince my parents to allow me to enroll in a small art school that was a serious commute from our house. Considering that the public school I was supposed to go to had serious gang violence issues as well as a few cops who had been killed there recently, for once in their terrible parenting career they agreed with me. So here I was on the first day of high school surrounded by a bunch of kids I'd never met before, with a new body that didn't even feel like mine, in a part of town that I'd never been to. Now, being the new kid wasn't new to me. I'd played my role as the new kid more than a dozen times at this point in my academic career, and I was usually able to just hide quietly in a corner and either be bullied or ignored by the world. But high school felt like a new chance. And an arts school at that. Until I realized that the office fucked up all of my classes and somehow, instead of being placed in creative writing I got placed in dance.

   Now let me explain a bit of background on this school. It was god awful in almost every way shape and form. Anarchy comes close to describing how this school ran. The principal snorted coke frequently throughout the day, most of the students would just leave classes to go hang out, drugs were a serious problem. And I'm not talking about kids coming in rolling or slightly high, no I mean you want it someone has it. Whatever you fancy. But the dance program? Best. In. The. State. Well known by scouts. I know people who went on to be in Cirque du Soleil and Julliard. That good. It was the only thing in this shithole of a school that brought in money and kept it running. Now there were other seriously amazing teachers, but they usually didn't last long because of Mr. snortsalotofwhitepowder.

   And here I was, with this awkward new body, riddled with anxiety, self-loathing, and teenage angst-fueled now stuck in this dance class with girls that had been dancing before they could fucking walk. Luckily there were two other girls who had never danced before. I was still the worst out of all of them. Now my dance teacher had a few rules. Anyone who wanted to dance could join her class, and everyone had to start from the beginning class no exceptions. There were no tryouts, no prior experience needed. The other rule? You never, ever, ever pressure someone into a weight range. Bodies can move in beautiful ways in all different forms was her philosophy.  And the last rule? No cussing. Which seemed like a lot of rules because, again, the school was verging on being run completely by drug-addled angst-filled teenagers.

   Now I hated this class before I ever stepped foot in it, at no fault of my teacher. I had always been horribly uncoordinated, and while some might have felt glee at rapid body changes I had found myself (like most young girls I think) incredibly uncomfortable at having to spend hours upon hours a week staring at this new form in freaking tights and a leotard in mirrors. I was also terrified of failing anything, and once again I seriously sucked at this class. I couldn't handle not being good at something when I thought I was finally going to a place where I could be...you know good and happy and accepted but the world had other cruel plans for me. But the biggest reason why I hated this class? My dance teacher, which again wasn’t really fair to her. To say I loathed her very existence that first quarter doesn't really begin to describe just how much I wanted to see her spontaneously burst into flames and be gone from my life. She ruled with an iron fist, which shouldn't be surprising considering that she was an award-winning ballerina and modern dancer who was Russian classically trained, had a six-pack on her six-pack and possibly ate nails for breakfast. (I would later find out that her eating habits were terrible and she rarely touched a vegetable.)  

   It wasn't unusual for there to be a lot of screaming from the dance teacher. One of my favorite lines to repeat from her is, "My dead grandmother can plie better than you from her coffin!" Lots of screaming, lots of failing, lots of crying from other girls. I was one of the few who never broke. I may have been a terrible dancer who looked like a newborn gazelle but I lived in a verbally and physically abusive home. Screaming was something I had learned to tune out by the time I was six. As long as there wasn't a phonebook near me I could hold my own. No, I hated her more because I was forced into her class and she couldn't let me slide just because I didn't want to be there. I mean, there was no slack at all for any of us, even the inexperienced.

   But one day, my hatred for my dance teacher morphed into a surge of platonic love/idolization. And my hatred for dance would suddenly turn into this need to turn it (and my new awkward body) into my bitch. I had left my script in the changing room and needed to get it before practice started. My teacher had her own performance coming up and was practicing to Radiohead's 'exit music.' I had never seen anything like this. It was a story written by a body. One of pain and love and misery. One that spoke to my angsty soul. This was the first time that I cried in public. I mean it was really just her and I, but it was at school so I think it counts. I will still swear up and down to this day that there is no greater dancer than her. When she moves it's like you have to listen, not watch, listen. I wanted that, I wanted to be able to turn my stories into dances. If I couldn't have my creative writing class I'd turn dance into a new form of writing.

   After that, I started spending all of my free time in that room. I was constantly practicing. I didn't care how badly bruised or bloody I was, I kept going. Dislocated my shoulder? Pop it in and keep moving, take some Advil later. But the real moment I knew that my dance teacher deserved all of my respect and idolization was a few things that would follow. When she realized that I was spending most of my time crashing on friends couches and didn't have money for lunch she would stash food for me. When she realized that I had horrible periods and would go through boxes each cycle she kept extra pads and tampons in the locker room for anyone along with a giant bottle of Midol. When I had been out for about two weeks because my father beat the shit out of me and nearly killed me and a teacher threatened to not allow makeup exams because 'it was my choice to not be in school' she must have realized something was up in my home because I'm not sure what was said or even how she knew but I've heard from various sources and all I can say is that in the middle of a class my dance teacher burst in and threatened that teacher into allowing me my makeup exams.

   She might have ruled with an iron fist and spent most of time in class screaming AGAIN, MY GOD JUST DO WHAT I SHOWED YOU, AGAIN but she was most certainly the best adult I had ever known at that point. On some days after class, she would even listen to songs I was choosing to choreograph to and we would spend time talking about bands that she used to see and her favorite music. She had seen Type O and Nirvana live, she actually liked WhiteChapel and Tupac and she had all these really bizarre tastes in music just like me and my little weird goth girl who grew up in underprivileged neighborhood heart sang each time we made a musical match because no one listened to both metal and rap at that time and holy cow someone else thinks that Bone Thugs is great but also really digs Dolly Parton and MCR? I was sure that nothing could knock her off the pedestal in my heart I had made for her. Not even when I found out she smoked, or ate McDonalds constantly, or actually cussed like a sailor outside of school. No that just made her cooler and more human to me. That is...until I found out that she loved Twilight.

   Now I had tried reading Twilight and I thought that comparing it to a flaming pile of garbage would be an insult to all landfills. I could see my world shatter around me. I had felt betrayed. Until later that night when I lay on yet another friend's couch recalling that moment. She had overheard me making a comment about how disgusting the book was. "Can you believe they're turning that shitshow into a movie?" Probably something about how the total audience IQ was lower than average combined and some other very very meanspirited bitchy stuff that still causes me pain today. And then swooped in my dance teacher from nowhere, "I like the books. I can't wait for the movie. Things don't always have to be good, or what you like. They can just be fun. You don't have to ruin it for others." Hours later I would realize that I had betrayed my dance teacher, not the other way around. I had done the very thing most people did to me, I shit all over one of the things she loved. And I felt sick. I actually went to class early with her favorite soda to awkwardly mumble out an apology and she just laughed and said not to worry, but I realized then that she was right.

   Shitting all over a fandom makes you far, far shittier than however shitty you think the fandom is. Now listen, there are plenty of fandoms that I still internally go 'holy shit woah' but I will never, ever verbally say it. Because life is really short, and whatever you want to like, whatever gives you a second of joy even if it's the butt of every joke then who fucking cares? As long as no one else is being hurt because of it, then I say go for it. Listen, the older I've gotten the more I've realized that life just generally sucks. For the most part. That isn't the angsty teenager in me talking, that's the honest adult. It honestly does. But whatever small little thing that makes the cesspool of life seem interesting and it isn't hurting others in the process of enjoying it? Fucking awesome man! I'm happy for you! I'm glad you found something you like! And if someone shits all over whatever fandom you're in? Well, they're an asshole, and I hope that somehow they get stuck in my old dance class with my teacher so maybe at the very least she can scream in their face until they break.  

[kusunogatari-a]

[ SasuHinaMonth Day Twenty-Four: Family ] [ @sasuhinamonth ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ]

In the end...this is what matters most.

He’s been home a few years now...but home refers less to where he is, and more to where they are. His family. The few scraps left of a once-mighty clan, rebuilding and growing out of the cracked, blood-soaked ground of the compound of the Uchiha. Before the war - before his last stand began - he never imagined coming back here. Instead, Konoha had been slated for destruction. Repayment for what they took from him.

But now...Sasuke takes steps forward into a future he never foresaw. It’s not as it should be. So much is missing. And yet...there’s more than he hoped, once upon a time, when he first felt the thirst of vengeance like rising bile in his throat.

His brother. His cousin. Itachi’s children and wife. Not the perfect ending...but enough to give him hope for a future he once thought ripped from him.

The twins are four years old already - time really is flying. More than anyone else, Sasuke is soft with them. They, he swears, will have a better future than their namesakes. The sight of them always warms his heart. New Uchiha lives, nine years after the rest were taken...or assumed to be taken.

“...do you ever think about this, Sasuke?”

Tearing his eyes from his niece and nephew, Sasuke gives his brother a questioning glance. “...what do you mean?”

“Family.”

“...it’s all I think about.”

After a pause, Itachi chuckles, head bowing slightly with closed eyes. “No, not in regards to what we have...I mean a branch from you. Children. A spouse.”

The younger brother stiffens slightly. “...I…”

“I don’t mean to sound pressuring. I’m simply curious.” There’s a playful glint in Itachi’s eyes. “...that Hyūga officer you partner with seems...pleasant.”

“...Hinata’s fine.”

“Sasuke…”

“Look, I…” A hand combs back through his hair in a nervous gesture. “...I don’t know if...I could do...this.”

“...this…?”

“...be a father. Or a...a husband.”

“Why not?”

How to explain? “...I don’t know if I’m...if I’m...stable enough for that.”

Itachi’s brows furrow. “...do you fear you would hurt them?”

“No! I mean...I don’t…” Sasuke sighs curtly. “...I would never mean to. But I…”

“...you’ve gone through so much,” his brother murmurs. “...I understand. At times...being hardened for so long can make being soft seem...impossible.” His gaze moves out beyond the porch on which they perch. His children squeal as Shisui mock-fights with them, over-dramatically reacting to their blows. Or...his daughter’s, at least. His son looks more concerned than enthused.

“...but just as instinctive as combat may be for us, so too is love. If you were to find someone to call your partner...I’m sure you would do well by them. After all, if I know anything about you...you would first have to trust them implicitly. Surely, then, you’d have no reason to react poorly to them…?”

Sasuke seems to brood, also watching the scene atop the grass. “...consciously, sure. But...reflexes aren’t easy to tame. And I’m...I’m too strong to take that risk.” A palm comes to rest atop the cloth of his hitai-ate, wherein his Rinnegan hides. “...if I ever hurt them...I’d rather die. I’d never be able to live with myself.” The admission is quiet, a worry that’s weighed on him since returning to Konoha.

It’s Itachi’s turn to sigh, quiet as he mulls that over.

“Are you ever scared you’ll hurt them?”

“...no.” He turns to Sasuke, looking thoughtful. “...my biggest concern is not being able to protect them. And…” A hitch, as though debating his next words. “...I worry that I...may fall into old routines. Distance myself. Manipulate them as I see fit. My ego, when I was younger, led to me often subtly driving people to ends that would suit me. I don’t want that to happen...but old habits are hard to break. But, Sasuke…” His expression softens. “...I truly think you would do right by your family. Because...I feel that your desire to keep them safe would far outweigh your fears of doing them harm. Look at all you have done for your family. It is ingrained in you like an instinct. That, more than anything else, drives you and your actions. Therefore...I’m certain you would never lift a hand against your family, should you choose to have one. Neither consciously, nor unconsciously. But...it’s not required of you. Not by any means. What I want most for you is to be happy. Whether that be by yourself, or with someone you come to love. That is what is most important to me. To us.”

Quiet falls between them, and Itachi lets it go unfettered, seeing the gears turning in his brother’s mind.

...maybe Itachi is right. His last goal in life, now, is to protect what remains of his family. Surely that would come to encompass anyone else be brings into his life with intent to call them the same.

Hinata is...what is she? They spend time together, mostly due to their work with the police force. They see one another outside their rounds, but...there’s never been any crossing of the line between friendship and...anything else. Does she even feel that way about him? Could she?

True, they’ve lamented their pasts together, and she claims she no longer holds affection for Naruto. But surely there’s someone else. One of her teammates, maybe. After all, it’s a high statistic: teammates getting married happens more often than not. But though she mentions both Shino and Kiba often, there’s never been talk of dating...or would she reveal that to him?

...he doesn’t know how she feels.

He doesn’t know how he feels.

During his most formative years - puberty, being a teen - he had entirely different goals than most. No intentions to form bonds, let alone romantic ones. His priorities had been narrowly focused on avenging those he lost. He’s never had a relationship. Never kissed anyone...intentionally. At this point, he’s not even sure what romance is actually meant to be. He looks at his brother and his wife, and wonders if he could emulate that with someone else.

He’s struggled over the years to reconnect with his agemates. He’s on good terms with them all - or, at least, neutral. But none have truly stood out to him - not in that way, at any rate.

But when he thinks about it - truly considers the theory - it’s Hinata that first comes to mind. Does that...mean something? He enjoys her company. They work together seamlessly - they hardly even need to speak most days when things get intense. They just...react. Their battle chemistry developed quickly, and meshes well enough that he never has to question it. She’s quiet, but sweet...funny, in her own way. Unobtrusive. More often than not, they can simply sit in the silence together. Nothing else is needed but each other’s company.

At that...he makes up his mind.

Sensing the shift, Itachi glances to him curiously, watching as he stands. “...going somewhere?”

“Need to do something.”

“Don’t be late for dinner. You can bring her, if you’d like.”

Halfway through the door, Sasuke looks back to give his brother a suspicious glower before heading back through the house.

Staring for a moment, Itachi eventually chuckles to himself, looking back just in time to see Shisui heroically collapse, his daughter standing triumphantly over his corpse.

Walking swiftly through the village, Sasuke spreads his senses, looking for her soft lilac signature. It’s not long before he finds it, just exiting a yarn shop. Seeing him, Hinata comes up short, a bit startled. “Oh!”

“Hinata.”

There’s a blink. “Um...yes?”

For a moment he debates, letting her linger in silence with a curious tilt of her head. “...would you...like to have dinner with me?”

Another blink. Something alights in her expression, as though coming to a realization. After a pause of her own, she eventually replies, “...I...would like that very much.”

Well...it’s a start.

     Word count: 1335      Cumulative: 30,775      Still a day behind, but one of these days I’ll catch up xD Gotta run and get some things done, so not much to say this time around.      Go get her, Sasuke!

[stereklibrary]

Hiya, I was wondering if you had any high school sterek?x

YES! I love a good High School AU (and to be honest, I had a hard time choosing) - here are some of my favourites

I also have a High School AU tag

Have fun reading! 

#librarynerd by yodasyoyo (1/1 | 7,742 | T)

“I’ll likely get far more done in the group if I’m not distracted watching you with your pen—”

“My—My pen?”

“Pens. Drinking straws. Don’t act like you don’t know,” Derek says darkly. “You know.”

In which Stiles follows Scott into his Spanish study group, takes one look at the hot nerd who runs it and then decides to stay… even though he doesn’t actually speak Spanish.

the nerd party by bibliosexual (3/3 | 6,827 | T)

Until this moment, Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek could read, and now he’s trying to steal Stiles’ obscure eight-hundred-page fantasy novel. What.

Option C) Some Bad Guys are Werewolves, but Not All Werewolves are Bad Guys by calrissian18 (1/1 | 9,039 | T)

Derek Hale—the Incredible Meat that Thinks—needs a math tutor. Stiles Stilinski needs something that will look better on his college applications than ‘passable D&D Dungeon Master.’

It’s a match made in heaven. Er, right?

Strut on a Line, its Discord and Rhyme by xiaq (21/21 | 61,818 | T)

“Carry me,” Stiles says.

“No.”

“But I’m injured.”

“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”

“Please?”

“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”

“Well, yeah, but I pooped like an hour ago, so.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t play, you love me.”

I do, Derek thinks, relatively horrified. I really do.

And Then There Is No Mystery Left (Baby, I’m Sweet On You) by Swing Set in December (1/1 | 1,104 | T)

Stiles has no idea why Derek is sitting at his lunch table.

you love the hate that we share by bibliosexual (1/1 | 5,745 | T)

Maybe it’s petty — okay, it most definitely is — but it just irritates Stiles that the universe makes people like Derek Hale. He’s practically superhuman at lacrosse; he’s been blessed by the puberty gods with stubble and muscles on top of muscles and not a pimple in sight; he spouts off effortless monologues in Spanish class while Stiles is still struggling to remember how to say “Can you repeat that?”; he could probably make a killing as a male model; and when he asked Lydia to study with him, she said yes. Like, seriously, what the fuck.

Easy Alpha by interropunct (1/1 | 4,602 | T)

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school hussy, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popular belief, everyone is still a virgin.

I stopped believing in happy endings by otatop (2/2 | 8,531 | NR)

Derek was prepared to have his heart broken for just one evening with Stiles. He knew what he was getting himself into

(He had no idea what he was getting himself into)

(I Hate to Be) The One to Ruin the Night by wishingonalightningbolt (2/2 | 14,550 | E)

High school senior Derek Hale only has one goal for the rest of his time left at BHHS: avoid Stiles Stilinski. He’s wreaked enough havoc as it is, having spent all summer breaking Derek’s heart. Everything would be better for both of them if they just never saw each other again.

Derek doesn’t plan on ever getting mixed up with Scott McCall and his little gang of idiot friends. In fact, if he knew to avoid it, he would, but he guesses he just isn’t smart enough. Unfortunate, considering the consequences.

The Socioeconomic Repercussions of Mutually Assured Destruction by alocalband (1/1 | 15,285 | E)

“The trouble with having the kind of brain that likes to write essays on male circumcision for an Economics class, is that it also likes to turn PowerPoint presentations for Biology into odes on the perfection of notorious bad boy Derek Hale’s backside.”

When You’re Close I Feel the Sparks by Leslie_Knope (4/4 | 15,285 | M)

The guy is hot as hell, sure—leather jacket and glasses, Jesus, be still Stiles’ poor, bisexual, beating heart—but more importantly, it must really suck being new on the first day of senior year.

“We’re adopting him,” he decides, tugging Scott and Kira by the elbow in that direction. “Let’s go.”

Someone Please Murder Dr. Wyne by NotRoyalty (2/2 | 2,873 | NR)

Stiles starts asking questions in the margins of his chemistry textbook because that thing couldn’t be more confusing, and then someone starts leaving answers.

Talk Geeky to Me by stilesanderek (1/1 | 19,874 | E)

Derek and Stiles are the most typical combo of nerd plus geek two teenage boys could be; and as stereotypical as they could ever get, they’re each other’s only friend. That usually doesn’t bother Stiles much, Derek is the best best friend he could ever hope to have, but sometimes when he thinks about his fate of possibly not having his first kiss until college, he starts wishing he had a few more friends–or at least more people who were a bit more interested in him other than when they need to copy his notes.

In a fit of curiosity about how kissing feels like, Stiles proposes Derek that they each be the other’s first kiss–strictly platonic, of course. But afterwards, Stiles can’t stop noticing how hot Derek is, can’t stop thinking about kissing and touching him.

OR

The five times Derek and Stiles “fake” kiss and one time they take things further.

Binomial Coefficients by DevilDoll (1/1 | 20,783 | T)

In which brainy freshman Stiles Stilinski wants star quarterback Derek Hale to join the math team, AKA math nerds in love.

the lunch table configuration by thepsychicclam (1/1 | 16,677 | E)

When Isaac makes Derek switch lunch tables, the last thing Derek expected was to fall for Stiles.

The Sound of My Heart by orphan_account (4/4 | 8,654 | T)

Stiles is bored.

It always happens this time of year. It’s the middle of August, summer is winding to a close, and he’s run out of things to distract him. He’s marathoned Buffy four times and as much as he loves it, Spike is starting to be a little less charming and a little more irritating. It’s also not helping that Scott barely has enough time to separate his lips from Allison’s to tell him he can’t hang out.

Scott is officially the worst best friend ever.

In which Stiles meets Derek at the police station

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by apocryphal (1/1 | 20,934 | T)

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It’s all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

Just the Same by ericaismeg (7/7 | 68,066 | G)

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There’s just no way Derek Hale is human.“I was wondering if you’re even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it’s ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It’s unfair for us. I mean, it’s obvious you work out, and I don’t, so that could be why, but like…I was just wondering if you were human, that’s all.”

“Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—”

“Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can’t threaten him with shit.

loving him is red by allhalethekings (1/1 | 14,915 | M)

“Who’s that?” Stiles asks, eyes not leaving the table.

“Who?” Scott asks, following Stiles’s line of sight. “Him? That’s Derek Hale. And you better forget about him. He doesn’t date.“

Practice Makes Perfect by blacktofade (1/1 | 21,061 | E)

In his sophomore year, Stiles gets dragged to lacrosse tryouts by Scott and ends up practising alongside the senior captain, Derek Hale. Stiles just wants to live long enough to become a junior.

[nightblogofficialbook]

Chapter One

Also available on the Tapas.io Website, search for Night in the Novels tab!

“Helen, time to wake up!”

I turned over with a groan. “My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, mom,” I complained, burying my head further under the pillow.

“You set that thing way too late, you’re always rushing yourself in the morning!”

Mom clicked the light on and I groaned louder. “Come on, I’ll make you pancakes but you have to get up now little missy.”

I gave in and sat up. My hair was a nest, my muscles still asleep. I yawned and stretched, and got up to walk out of my room to the bathroom to fix my mess.

My name is Helen Morris. I’m sixteen, tired of life, and ready for retirement already. It’s currently 5:30 a.m. thanks to school being an hour’s bus route away from home. In three months I turn seventeen and qualify for driving unsupervised. Not that I have a car to drive, but at least I’ll be able to work without the school stepping in, too. I live with my mom in an old, rickety two-bedroom, one bathroom house with walls that creaked and water that didn’t always run hot for very long. It wasn’t much, but it was paid off and in her name. My dad’s in prison, but I don’t want to think about him.

I got dressed in plain jeans and a blue t-shirt and walked through the hallway to the kitchen. Mom had some homemade blueberry pancakes made up ready the way I usually eat them. I groggily sat down and took a bite, enjoying the flavor for the moment. Mom glanced back at me from the sink where she was cleaning the pans and bowls.

“See, isn’t this nicer than rushing off with no breakfast?” she said matter-of-factly.

“It is, thanks Mom.” I really was grateful to being woken up like this. Mom usually works overnight as a nurse, so mornings like these are the result of her still being awake after her shift. It was hard to fully appreciate it in the moment, though, with the not being fully awake yet and all.

I finished my pancakes and milk, and dropped the dishes in the dishwasher. After finishing up the rest of my boring morning routine of brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I grabbed my bag, hugged my mom, and went out the door for the ten minute walk towards the bus stop.

The air was still cool and crisp, but I knew it was a lie. In two to fours hours it would be hot as hell. I still wore a jacket nonetheless because the school, in addition to being terrible already, did not know what the meaning of climate control is, and tended to have its classrooms ranging from stuffy to freezing. But for these ten quiet minutes, it was a nice morning.

The aged houses and trees of my neighborhood gave way to a more modern urban sprawl, the neighborhood of the better-off kids. I like to think I was only envious of the fact that they had less things to worry about, given their financial stability. Granted, I had no idea what kind of lives lived behind those doors, but I couldn’t help the bitter feeling that it surely couldn’t be anything nearly as bad as the rest of us. I haven’t really been out in the world necessarily yet, but I did see how much mom struggles to keep us afloat and happy.

Past this neighborhood was the community center and library, which is where my bus stop was. Behind this was a large, forested area which I sometimes use as shortcut to get  here from home as it cuts the time in half. Which I frequently have to do. It can be pretty creepy this early in the morning, even more so after dark. But the five minutes of sunset was where it’s at; the way the golden-red rays fell through the trees...it was pretty magical.

Fun fact about this forest; there’s this huge creepy castle that no one ever goes near, somewhere right smack in the middle. It’s not like people aren’t allowed to go near, but, inexplicably, people avoid that place anyway. Some say it’s haunted, some claim it’s not even there. Apparently some have even actually gone in but never came back out. None of it is backed up by anything, but I’ve always avoided the area nonetheless. It’s a bit out of the way from my route home anyway, and I’m not dumb enough to go trespassing on someone else’s property in the middle of the woods.

The bus arrived, and thank goodness, because the other kids at my stop started to arrive at the same time. I didn’t want to interact with anyone if I could help it. One dude quickly put out a cigarette soon as he saw the bus, and a couple girls my age looked disappointed to not have any time to gawk and gossip about the shabbiness of everything in general. Since the bus barn is close to this area, ours was the first stop to be picked up in the mornings, but also the last one to drop in the evenings. Which meant we got first pick on seats but also had to deal with everyone else for the maximum amount of time possible. And this bus picked up both junior high and high schoolers.

I remember being in junior high, I grimaced as a bunch of fourteen/fifteen-year-olds loaded up at the next few stops. It really wasn’t all that long ago honestly, but it was such a weird age. Girls figuring out puberty, boys learning how to be asses but not understanding why girls won’t be attracted to them, but at the same time both genders thinking the other is stupid. I really hated that age. Not that high school is much different, but at least everyone has enough going on to keep out of each other’s business.

The hour passes and I nearly fell asleep as the bus dropped the high schoolers off first. I got my stiff legs moving and made my way into the building.

Classes pass in a daze like usual. Nothing is very interesting, but at least it’s consistent. I know what to expect from my day, and what’s expected of me. I know what periods I’m going to hate, and which ones I can relax in. It really isn’t as bad as I complain about, sometimes. That’s just how life goes. You settle into monotony and enjoy the calm ride however you can.

Unfortunately for today, I had forgotten about my math test. I’m not bad at math, but I’m not great at it either, and the teacher is REALLY confusing most of the time. She needs to seriously consider retirement; hardly anyone could make heads or tails of what she’d say. I bombed the test of course, I forgot to do the practice homework to prepare for it. When I got my test back, there was a note in red pen telling me I need to apply myself or I’m going to have to take remedial lessons. The last thing I needed was even MORE time at school. That would mean I’d have to miss my bus and catch a public bus. Which means getting home after dark and making mom worry.

Last class was just a seminar hour for study, and thankfully I had this with my best friend, Emily. We both took a dead language class as an elective and were translating a runes assignment.

“Tell me if you think this is close,” she said quietly. “Here be a person of shared...tree?”

“That’s the symbol for parent, not tree,” I corrected, “so it should be ‘Here be a person of shared parent.’ They’re saying it’s their sibling.”

“Ooooooohhhh I get it now,” Emily mused. “I swear though, I had to have gotten somebody’s eulogy or something.”

“It might be, it’s gotta be more interesting than mine. I’m pretty sure I just have someones written layout of their town.”

“Seriously though, how are you so good at this? These are dead languages, and the teacher freakin’ loves you.”

I shrugged. “I dunno. I have a hard time with the roman based letters sometimes, which is dumb, but give me runes and I’ve got it. I think it’s because there’s a simpler pattern to decipher for me. Like, the structure just makes sense with the language syntax or something.”

“I dunno,” Emily stared dubiously at her text. “We’re already in the second course and this is still all just gibberish to me.”

“You got that far, though, didn’t you?” I said, gesturing to her project. “You got halfway through the assignment before getting a symbol confused with another.”

“Yeah, but I still have to use a cheat sheet.”

I shrugged again. “Nothing wrong with that. Plus, no one else has it as easy either. Maybe I’m just a weirdo.”

She laughed, and I grinned. Our seminar teacher shushed us angrily, even though we weren’t being that loud. I narrowed my eyes his direction but just let it go. He had always been an ass that could only ever amount to a gym teacher, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight with him. Besides, there was nothing I could really do about it.

School let out and Emily walked with me to my bus. She was one of the lucky ones whose parents were able to have time to pick her up after school. “You think you’ll be able to come over today?” she asked hopefully.

“Sorry, not this time either. Mom wants me to pick up some stuff from the community center for her work and by that point it’ll be almost dark.”

“Dang. You should ask her if it’s cool if my mom just picks you up from school and then takes you home.”

“Ha! Good luck with that, she barely feels comfortable with me riding the bus, let alone someone else’s car.”

We said our goodbyes and I got on the bus to settle in for the hour-long drive back. The town flew by in a blur of hills and houses and trees, every now and then passing through the small business district again as the bus weaved back and forth, unloading it’s contents like a slowly hatching spider’s nest. The tiredness of the day began to weigh on me, and I felt a little guilty for lying to Emily. Mom didn’t actually have anything I needed to get; I just didn’t want to ask her again, only to be told no and reminded of the dangers of why. And with her busy schedule, she really didn’t even have time to meet parents and give proper assessment. It was so frustrating, but even more so because I understood why.

At least, in a few months, I’ll legally be allowed to work, and I’ll be able to use that as a reason for her to allow me to start making my own decisions.

My stop finally arrived, I got off the bus like all the other little spiderlings, and began my walk home. I still have enough time before sunset actually happens and it gets too dark, so I decided to take my nature path through the woods. It was quiet, immediately a different atmosphere from the civilization around the community center. The trees were tall and loomed far overhead, not impossibly tall or really even impressively tall, but gentle. The oaks and sycamores and birches all commingled their leaves, creating this wonderful blanket of patterned light through the summer green foliage. A breeze would sometimes drift through, causing the treetops to shimmer and rustle and bring relief from the fading summer heat. Below my feet was a lightly worn path from all the times I’ve walked through these woods, every now and then branching off into other less worn paths from the times others had walked through here as well. I breathed in and enjoyed the peace. Sometimes I wish I could just live out here, in the trees, away from all the people. Away from all the noise and frustrations of everyone’s expectations.

The peace was short lived of course, as it always was. The path was only a five minute walk after all. And before long I was back near my house with its tall privacy fenced in yard and it’s peeling paint and creaky hinges.

Mom was already awake and getting ready for work, wearing her baby blue scrubs as I walked in.

“Dinner is on the stove,” she instructed, “ and I have the oven on warm so don’t forget it. Remember to keep the doors locked.” She kissed me on the forehead. “Love you baby, be safe.”

“You too mom,” I hugged back, and locked the door as she left. I checked all of the windows and back doors absentmindedly, thinking about how different things would be if things were...well, different. Mom could stay at home and wouldn’t need to work so much, I could possibly have a life outside school and home, though to be honest I don’t know how much I’d actually want that. Maybe we’d have a bigger, newer house.

I shook my head, assembling the chili tortillas mom had prepped for me and sitting down. No, this is nice, this is okay. We’ve got a warm home, enough good food, and new clothes when we need them. We’re not hurting for money, and getting by modestly. This was nice enough.

After cleaning my dishes and putting the food away, I went back to my room to my desk to deal with the remedial homework my math teacher had given me. I clicked the radio setting on my alarm and listened to music while I worked through the numbers. The song playing on the station made me smile; it was a pop classic Emily and I liked to make fun of, due to it sounding exactly like every other song out there but with the lyrics being horrifically bad. I sung to it softly, wondering what she was up to.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the phone rang. My heart gave a start from the sudden noise. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hey! It’sa me!”

I laughed. “Hey Emily. I was just thinking about what you’d be up to.”

“Making pizza rolls. Well, waiting for pizza rolls. So I just heard our song on the radio and I thought hey, Helen better be hearing this too ‘cause I can’t just enjoy the hilarity of it again all by myself.”

I laughed again. “I was, actually. Trying to plow through this stupid extra math work Mrs. Marrow gave me.

“Ugh, Bloody Marrow, she needs to retire.”

“For sure.”

“Anyway, so I actually wanted to tell you something that happened to me today!” she began, excited. “Erin asked me out in the most sweetest adorable way ever, she had given me her phone number last week ‘cause we had a science project together and had to coordinate outside of class and whatever, and today she sent me a text wanting to know if I like ice cream and would want to go get some at this new shop opening up at the mall this week!!”

I sat forward in amazement. “Emily! That’s awesome! You’ve had a crush on her for like, forever, I’m so happy for you!”

“I knoooooooow,” I heard her squee on the other end, and the sound of rustling as she was probably rolling back and forth on her bed happily. “She’s so prettyyyyy and I’m so gaaaaaaaaaaay.” I laughed.

“Well, I really hope it works out for you. It’d be really cool to see you two together.”

“Yeah, I’m a little scared though. I mean, this clearly sounds like a date, but I have no idea if she’s like, INTO me, or just ya know, looking for a friend or whatever.”

“Dude. She’s totally into you. How could she not be?”

“Buuuuuut-”

“For reals though. I’ve seen the way she acts when you come around. Plus you’re not exactly hiding your rainbows. She’s totes into you.”

“Uuuuuggghhhhh I just don’t knowwwwww.” I heard her shift. “Have you ever had a massive crush on anyone? Or have a crush on anyone currently?” she added with a hint of probing in her voice.

“I did once,” I grimaced. “That was a few years ago. You remember James?”

She made a noise of surprise. “Ugh that jock-head?”

“Yeah. He went to my middle school before we had moved here.”

“Dang, small world.”

“Yeah. Well, I used to think he was cute back then, and he kind of was. But I never really knew him. When I first moved here and started high school, I found out he went to this school too, so I tried to go talk to him since he was the only person I knew, and he essentially said ‘Ew, no, go away.’ Or something like that.”

“Ugh, boys are so rotten. You should switch sides, girls are way nicer.”

I gave a small laugh. “I wish. I get why you like girls, but I just kinda...don’t like anyone.”

“Dude, confession time to lighten the mood? I once had a crush on you.”

“I know,” I laughed. “You gave me chocolates and your lunch like, everyday. I felt bad for not realizing sooner after I ate all of your food.”

She laughed too. “S’algood, s’algood, I think I may have been mixing feelings a bit, you just seemed like someone I HAD to get to know.”

“I’m really glad you did. I didn’t have any friends at that time.”

“And you’re like, the most open-minded person ever. A lot of girls would get really defensive. Which sucks, but is also pretty hilarious too.”

“Well, I’m flattered you thought I was gay,” I teased. “And sorry that I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you could be bi though, and I just wasn’t your type. Or maybe even ace.”

“I dunno, I kinda just...don’t care? I don’t really care what category I’d fit in, I just want to be treated like me.”

“Saaaaaame, girl, same.”

We chatted for a few more hours before it started getting really late. The phone call distraction extended my homework by the same amount of time, but it made it easier to get through, and at least it was done. As the last tangent conversation ended we said our see-you-tomorrows and hung up.

I flopped back against the musty pillows. I should really wash those. Our earlier conversation went through my mind, and I turned over on my side, hugging a large stuffed husky my mom got me when I was ten. It’s not like I didn’t want to like people, or that I didn’t want to date anyone. No one ever felt like they were actually interested in ME, not even Emily. At least Emily was aware of it; that’s the reason we became friends. But...I didn’t want to risk the possibility of actually really liking someone, and they just turn out to be like James had been; a stuck up jerk who didn’t even want to be nice. Or like some of the guys that were too thick to understand that Emily likes girls and certainly not them.

Being alone though...that’s what sucks the most. And for me, being around people who make me feel alone is the worst feeling of all.

I sat at the computer lab in the community center, looking at job listings, looking for any that hire seventeen year olds. It was still a few months away but It wouldn’t hurt to try to get a head start. I could use the shortened time to convince them to at least consider me; there was a public bus route that made a stop just down the road from where the school bus drops, at roughly the same time. I could take my seminar hour at the end of the day and check myself out of school, work for a couple of hours, and then commute back here. And mom wouldn’t need to know about it, AND I’d be able to help out with expenses. It’s a win-win scenario, it wouldn’t even cut into homework time.

I leaned back and stretched, and noticed that it was unusually quiet, and dark, in the building. I looked around; everyone had left save for the front desk lady, who was quietly reading her book. The auto lights had already gone out.

I checked the time on the computer. It said 8:05.

Oh crap.

Logging out as quickly as I could I bolted out the doors; the sun was already in setting position. “Oh crap oh crap.” Mom is going to be furious, this was her night off, I should have been home an hour ago…!

I ran towards the woods, debating whether to take the chance of it being dark before I made it through or getting into even more trouble with mom. To be honest, mom is probably scarier. The implications of it being after dark by the time I made it home was enough of a risk. I dove right into the treeline.

There was a different eeriness to the atmosphere here today, maybe it was because I was in a hurry, and maybe because it was minutes from full darkness. Something sent prickles across my skin, like I was being watched, like something was following me. I moved quicker, faster, my breath starting to become labored. A chilling mist was filling the forest; the sun had set. A strange lurch in the pit of my stomach pulled me in a direction that I was sure was the path home. Surely I was close now…?

I stopped, unable to believe my eyes as the treeline gave way to a clearing, my heart sinking as I realized it wasn’t because I was leaving the forest...and rising again from the sheer awe that was before me.

Towering far above me and covering the entire expanse of the open treeline I stepped out from, was an impressively large, black stone castle.

“It’s real…” I whispered. “No way…” How on earth did I end up here? I know that path by heart, I shouldn’t have veered off for a moment…!

Curiosity governed my senses. I walked through the white rose bushes that lined the outer wall and towards the brick; it wasn’t just a flat dark stone, it was carved with intricate details and patterns and symbols. With a start I recognized a lot of them; sanskrit, rune, greek, hebrew, korean. None were written in a manner I could read or understand, but something told me it was all the same language, whatever it was. Running my fingers across them felt almost electric, as if they held magic or something dumb like that.

I walked along the wall, carefully avoiding the rose buses that lined the way, coming up to a wrought iron gate. It twisted into intricate vine-like patterns with an almost glossy new sheen, as if it had just been made. A similar theme was applied to the rest of the castle beyond the wall, like a gothic style mansion with darkened rooftops. It was gorgeous and glossy and new and…

Wait, new?

I looked closer at the walls, and tried my best to look closer at the inner castle itself. Everything looked pristine and kept, fresh painted with muted and yet vibrant colors, even the stone and iron showed no discernable age. As if it had been freshly built. If this was the legendary castle in the woods, it would have to be SUPER ancient, because that myth has been around since our parents’ parents were little. It would be worn, the stones cracking and nature attempting to take over, or at the very least look uninhabited.

This looked very inhabited.

A chill fell over my body and dread followed suit. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know what kind of people would live here, but I got the feeling they’d be the kind that wouldn’t care about shooting some random teenager looking like they’re about to trespass. I backed away quickly, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise as it felt like I was being closely watched again.

“Ouch!” Pain stung across my forearm as I stumbled into a rose bush, dragging a very thin bead of blood in a line down the scratch. “Ah, crap…” Now mom won’t just be mad. She’ll be paranoid.

A light snap! sounded from my left and I spun towards it, fear filling my pulsing chest. A million thoughts ran through my head, my breath started to catch. Very slowly, carefully this time, I started backing away. I let out a sigh of relief as a squirrel ran out from a bush, but the tension remained. It was time to leave.

But then I heard another crack, and this wasn’t a squirrel.

A pair of eyes shone in the dark, and a large, lithe figure began to step out from the shadows; that was all I needed to turn around and nope the heck out of there.

I had barely taken ten steps before I felt a rush of wind, and then suddenly I was jerked backwards into something solid by my arms. “NO-!” A scream had just barely begun from my mouth when pain erupted my from shoulder. Numbness overtook me and then everything was black.

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