#funnily enough this journal started a little over three years ago

[loquaciousquark]

17th Bloomingtide. Spring winds are blowing, and with them they bring...

All sorts of whispers in the city these days. Particularly, rumors that a ship with piratical ties is on its way to Kirkwall, to dock within the week.

I can’t pretend I’m not hoping, but I can’t say the hope aloud, either. It’s been almost three years since she left. There’s hardly any anger left, thank the Maker, but I still haven’t figured out the hurt.

Speaking of hurt, Meredith and Orsino nearly came to blows this morning in the Hightown square. I gave a good effort at impartiality since I’m apparently considered respectable now, channeling my inner Elthina and so forth (for you, Sebastian, and no other), and in the end everyone left angry and unsatisfied. I believe this means I was a success.

21st Bloomingtide. Beautiful sunny day, almost warm

She’s here. Isabela’s come back to the city. We had a terrible fight when I went into the Hanged Man--the wench had been there for two days without either her or Varric breathing a word to me, so when I came in as blithe as a daisy only to see that cocky smirk at the bar with Corff, as if she’d been gone three weeks instead of three years, I couldn’t decide if I ought to kill her or kiss her.

She blamed (blames?) me for ruining all her plans. For making her stay, or want to stay, instead of letting her live forever without a tie to solid land. She’s given up her charter, let it expire when she docked and dismissed her crew. She sounded so bitter... she said I made her feel less than what she was by caring about her. Well--not in as many words, but that’s what I took away from it.

If she didn’t want me to care about her, she shouldn’t have come back. Serves her right--I’ll love her whether she likes it or not, and piffle to the rest. Even if she’s brought another Arishok on her heels again--I’ll fight him, too, if I have to.

Belatedly occurs to me that I shouldn’t tempt the Maker, especially as I’m already down one kidney

We had a drink after we fought, and she told me a little about her journeys & why her hair’s two inches shorter than when she left. She has a new scar, too, right across the meat of her right arm. I’m so very glad she’s back. I’m even looking forward to the pot of coin I’ll be losing next week at cards.

Maker, how can I be so happy and sad at the same time?

30th Bloomingtide. Still sunny, warming up both here & the Coast. In Ferelden there’d be daisies covering the fields

Isabela’s been everywhere. Everywhere! Antiva, Rivain (briefly), stops in Orlais, Gwaren, Alamar--she even went far enough into Denerim to see the king & queen, long may they reign etc, etc. Because apparently Isabela’s the kind of person to know reigning monarchs of neighboring countries on a first-name basis. She even says she trained the queen in daggers a long time ago when she was only a Warden, which is probably the most unbelievable part of the whole tale.

Varric won’t admit it, but he’s as pleased as I am that she’s back. We played cards last night and everyone came (except Aveline, who’s still in Orlais), and he was so quietly satisfied I could swear he was stacking the deck in his favor, except he’s been scrupulously honest in his cards lately (a long con, I’m sure) and he hardly won anything anyway. Isabela cleaned out every one of us, except Anders who folded nearly every hand, and not a single person complained.

Reminder: take Merrill out... somewhere tomorrow. Anywhere. She’s looking awfully wilted lately, and Varric said he hasn’t had to pay street protection in over two months. She’s just not... going anyplace. I’m hoping Isabela’s coming back will bring her out a little more, but she did look awfully distracted more than once tonight.

That damned mirror!

4th Justinian. I have never been so charmed by a doodled dick in my journal, thank you, now stop reading and go pilfer something shiny

I’m a perfect fool sometimes.

I was reading letters in the study. Pelarie’s asked me to come by--that’s beside the point. I was using Fenris’s little penknife to open them, the one he gave me, and as Orana came by to water the rhododendron she said something about it being rather pretty. I showed it to her with the feathers and the engraving on the blade, and I was laughing about how he’d had it engraved with the Tevinter word for sadist, as he’d called me ages ago when he was so ill.

Except she only looked perplexed when I said that, and I...

I still didn’t understand, not until I asked her directly. She carefully sounded out the word to be sure she’d read it right (which she had).

Avis doesn’t mean “sadist.” It means “bird.”

I’ve never felt so peculiar over a word in my life.

11th Justinian. Cool for the season, warm for my taste. Stormed a bit this morning but it’s cleared up nicely since

Aveline’s back tomorrow and the city is more than ready for her return. The templars are--well, Meredith is become the sole seat of power in Kirkwall, and I hadn’t realized how absolutely she’s claimed it until I passed by a pair of templars heckling a young man in Darktown this morning. They had him up against a wall & were trying to bait magic out of him with sheer fear, and it wasn’t until I casually came up between their muscly shoulders that they seemed to care the entire alley was watching.

I asked if they needed any help. I recognized them, too--they used to run with Alrik and his sort, though I hadn’t seen them in the streets in years and frankly, journal, I’d hoped they’d just gone off and walked off some high cliff somewhere together. The taller one looked ready to hit me until he recognized my face, and then they both gave up a grudging respect and went on their way. 

I still don’t know if the boy was a mage. I didn’t ask--I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be in the middle of this war. Anders fights enough for the both of us, and that’s not even including the war he’s waging against himself.

(Sidebar, now that I’ve brought it up: I went to help him with that little task of his, possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever done in my life, and he started it off by calling Fenris a wild dog to my face. I was already annoyed; at that I was angry, and I told him so. He apologized, though I’m not sure he meant it, and on we went to the precious shit. I can’t say the splashing wasn’t intentional; if nothing else, I am excellent at recognizing my own mercurial spite. He did apologize again as we left, much more sincerely, and by then my temper had cooled enough to accept it.

I must say, given all my vast years of experience with spirits and possession and indeed several personal anecdotes involving general bad behavior on the part of Fade denizens, that Justice has not been a good influence on that man.)

24th Justinian. Drizzly all day, and even the hood my father magicked is struggling to keep up its spirits

Dicks, but when it rains it pours. Someone’s after Gamlen for bad debt, something to do with some Gem of Ker...what is it? I have the note. Keroshek. Sounds like one of those scheming letters that pretend to be some investor or tax collector and threaten to bring the guard unless you pay them a hundred sovs, except that in this case someone really did try to kill him.

I’m not so rich with family that I can let this happen again. I won’t allow it. If I have to tie him to a post in my basement to keep him safe, I will. I’ll even risk the smell soaking into the walls.

Varric’s looking into it for me. In other news, Aveline’s back safely, and she and Isabela had a reunion I still can’t quite find words for. I think they were both happy, though the words didn’t show it, and when Isabela draped her arm over Aveline’s shoulders at the end she didn’t shake her off for nearly a minute.

Flames, Toby has just brought in a whole chicken. Where did he it’s alive

Later

One soggy chicken extracted, returned to the butcher down the street, and Toby thoroughly scolded. He’s curled at my feet now, sulking. Serves you right, you overgrown thief. Just because the chicken ran didn’t mean you had the right to chase it.

One more thing, and then I need to help Orana--I finally met with Pelarie and Jule. Pelarie’s worried about her little sister, the one in the Gallows. She says she’s fine for now, that her name’s been enough to protect her so far, but she’s worried that the city might not remain safe for her forever. She wanted to know if I could quote-unquote help should she need it in the future.

I can. I will, if it comes to it, and she knew it before she asked. How irritatingly transparent I am, and how well she knows my regard for little sisters.

1st Solace. Stifling, yet dank. Remarkable city, Kirkwall

Two very interesting things happened today. First, a qunari arrived in Hightown (and the brass balls on that one for lingering, despite the stares!) and stated he wanted all those old swords I collected after the assault on the Keep. There’s a handful missing, it seems, and since qunari have such a strong belief in their swords and souls being tied together, he’s here to bring them all home again. Only a few more, and then he can leave safely. (Good, I think--Kirkwall won’t tolerate his lingering long.)

The second thing, journal, is that despite a year of assurances to the contrary, stubbornness almost as great as my own, and various diatribes on Hadriana’s general mendacity, it turns out that someone has been exchanging letters with Tevinter for almost two months.

More than that, he’s found his sister. She’s a real person, named Varania, and (how annoyed I am!) Varric was the one who helped him find her. All this time she’s been a tailor in Minrathous (Hadriana did not lie about this, as it turns out), and Fenris has sent her money so she can come to Kirkwall to meet him.

Journal, he says she’s here. She’s come all this way to meet him and he’s more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. He’s even straightened the more useful rooms in his mansion, just in case. Maker knows he’s saved enough coin over the years to spare a little on curtains now. He wants to go as soon as he can, and he wants me to come with him. Puppy eyes, as Merrill would say, and I was putty. We’re to go first thing in the morning.

I confess I do wonder what it must be like to meet one’s sister for the first time as a grown man. Except, she’ll remember him, won’t she? (He never said as much, but I’m certain he’s wondering about his own memories, too.) Forgive the optimistic dreaming, but if this meeting stirs even one memory out of that black morass of his past it seems like it would all be worth it.

I’m going to sneak in a few sachets of potpourri, though, just in case.

2nd Solace. Afternoon

Well.

Well, journal.

I’ve a thousand thoughts storming in my head, and I don’t know where to start.

It was all a trap, and I’ve finally had the extraordinary pleasure of meeting, maiming, and murdering a magister of Tevinter in my favorite bar.

Varania is gone, for better or worse.

Fenris is free, in a way that’s deeper than the lyrium, and I’m afraid...

I don’t know where to start.

He recognized her as soon as we went in. Aveline came too, since Donnic was on patrol, and the moment we all passed Corff at the bar Fenris’s head snapped over to an elf with red hair and stooped shoulders. He knew her name, and she called him Leto, which is what he was once called before Danarius remade him.

But she was... she was so bitter. Bitter and broken and she wasn’t ten words in before all the hair on my arms started standing up, because she was wrong and something was wrong. And then there he came, sailing down the stairs I’ve trampled twice a week for ten years, his hand on the railing Isabela carved tits into before the Arishok, his pristine magisterial silk trailing over the place where I threw up three tankards of Corff’s horrible beer last week after cards. The violation was quite unlike anything I’d felt in years, not since the foundry. How dare he come into this place that is ours, and all that rot.

(Only it is ours. Mine and Fenris’s and Varric’s and Isabela’s and even Aveline’s. It’s ours, paid for in blood and ten years of card games and sneaking Norah extra tips at the end of the night, and I was glad to destroy the creature trying to take it from us.)

He said beastly things to Fenris. Terrible, hideous insinuations, and he spoke as if he were proud of them.

I could hardly help snarling back before I realized Fenris was pale as parchment and his lyrium was going off like lightning. He is a free man. He’s been a free man--I told Danarius--and any worthless scrap of paper a thousand leagues away saying differently might as well be the mud caked in my boots.

Ten years he’s been chasing Fenris, with Fenris killing everyone he’s sent, announcing at every possible turn how he’d like to kill Danarius (often quite loudly), and that fucking man walks in with an outstretched hand for an errant dog, a helpless, starving stray yearning for the kind touch of its master. How delusional! How desperate! And yet...

And yet for one awful, awful moment, I thought Fenris might agree to go with him. If I never see such blank horror in his face again it will be too soon.

Worse, it was Varania who brought him. Fenris’s sister, who is a desperate, untrained mage in absolute poverty in the cruelest city in Thedas, who found the promise of power more palatable than reunion with a long-lost brother. If I-- if Bethany

The magister raised shades out of the floor of the Hanged Man. One broke through the floorboards right next to Grimmet’s chair, where Merrill once dropped a little pot of paint and stained the wood in the shape of Orlais. Isabela and Varric and Aveline ripped through most of them--I helped--and at the end of it Fenris reached up and tore out Danarius’s throat. Would have taken Varania’s, too, if Varric and I hadn’t spoken our doubts. I still don’t know if I should have said anything. It’s hardly my affair, and yet... even the chance. Even the chance seemed worth it, if there was mercy...

He spared her. She told him he’d competed for the honor to be branded by Danarius, and left her and their mother begging in the streets, and then she left. Mercy, I said.

Fenris said he was alone after, but I refused to let him entertain that thought for even a moment. He has everyone--he has me. Mostly me. Fine--all of me, damn it. He’ll never feel alone an instant for the rest of his life if I have my way, even if I have to walk ‘round with my hands in his pockets to prove it.

He left while the blood was still warm. Needed air (understandable), and by that time Aveline had gone into full Captain mode and was pulling guards off every post in earshot and a few more besides. Norah was already scrubbing at the blood by the time I left. She didn’t look more than annoyed, but I’m making a donation to the rebuilding fund anyway, for their pains.

I do seem to bring tempests in my wake, don’t I? Or perhaps it’s Fenris stirring up the storm this time, and I’m the twig caught in his gale for once. I suppose it hardly matters at this point.

It’s been long enough, I think. I told him I’d come by later once he’d had a chance to breathe, and as my own has become short with concern, I’m determined to be neighborly and see to his well-being.

I’m afraid he’s going to leave the city. Terrified, really. What’s holding him here but us?

Flames. All I can do is ask, considering tying him to the house by his laces might send the wrong message at this point.

Solace. 3rd, I think. Might be 4th. Might be 5th. Does it matter? Does anything matter when one has a warm fire, an overfull heart, and a lover who tangles tighter than a cat when he’s asleep?

Fenris is not, as it happens, leaving the city.

Fenris is not, as it happens, satisfied with our previous friendly arrangement.

As it happens, journal, Fenris is also not inclined to surrender my hand to this page, and any errant blots may be blamed entirely upon him. I’m forced to abandon this all sooner than I meant, but I imagine the memories are vivid enough to be recounted at a later time. (That is, assuming some nebulous future exists where I don’t have the most handsome elf I’ve ever met letting me run my fingers down his back at leisure. Horrors!)

Andraste and all her stars, but I love him. How lucky to be able to show it at last!

(Also--remembered more of the lyrium pattern than I’d thought. Ha!)

[bazwillendinflames]

Gravity Falls/LIS2 AU

The last place Sean wants to spend his Summer is in a weird town in the middle of no where, Oregon, reconnecting with a Mother who hadn’t wanted to see them in years in her weird tourist trap. But Daniel is determined to go and his Dad gives Sean little choice but to babysit him.

But soon it becomes clear there is more to Beaver Creek than meets the eye and the strangeness of the town soon unlocks some family secrets and strange abilities. Maybe their Summer won’t be so boring after all.

AO3 

“Lyla, I will die of boredom.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” she replied, her voice a little tinny still. The bad reception was just one of many reasons that Sean was having an awful time. (In the week and a half since they had arrived, he’d already made a list.) 

“Nope, it is exactly as bad as I’m saying.” 

“I mean, come on, you’re Mom’s there. What’s that like that?” 

Sean scowled. “Number one on reasons this place sucks. All she talks to us about is all this weird mystic stuff she likes. Her store is so weird, it’s all crystals and bad poetry.” 

Lyla snorted. “Really?” 

“Yep. Not to mention this is the whitest town ever.” He glanced out the window, where Karen was smoking, notebook in hand and ducked his head before she could spot him. “There are no cool people.” 

“Come on, you have Danny.” 

“I get enough babysitting at home thanks.” He glanced outside again, wondering exactly how long he could bitch on the phone for and call it a break. “Anyway, this place is just making Daniel weirder. He’s convinced this place is magic or something.” 

“That’s sweet. Hey, we used to play witches when we were kids, remember?”

“Hey, you were the witch, I was a manly wizard.” 

That time Lyla actually laughed. “Sure dude. I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Anyway, we were into the Harry Potter books, you know before terf-face ruined them. Daniel is into the ancient runes and fake spell cards Mo- Karen sells.” 

“That’s adorable.” 

“Ugh, only you could find him adorable. That’s only because Daniel doesn’t kick you in your sleep-” 

“Did Lyla call me adorable?” 

Sean sighed as Daniel barged in. Not much had changed since home tehre at least, apart from the fact they now shared Karen’s attic room. (Bunk beds, making the being kicked in the shin at night thing even more annoying.) 

“Hey, I’m kinda on the-” 

Daniel yanked the phone and rolled on the bed. “Hiiiiii Lyla. Do you miss us?” 

“Give me that back.” 

He wiggled out of his grap. “Did you know Sean talks in his sleep, it’s so weird-” 

“You would know about weird,” he grumbled, snatching his phone back, only to find the shitty signal had finally cut out on Lyla. “Dude.” 

“Sorry.” Daniel grinned at him. “Hey, I’m helping Mom restock, can you help me reach the top shelves?” 

He checked the time on his phone. He had almost managed a whole brother-free hour. 

“Guess I should I get back to work.” 

“Cool.” Daniel followed him downstairs, bouncing with energy. “Hey, Sean what does terf-face mean?” 

  Sean was stuck behind the register, although the store was still empty. He wasn’t sure why Karen insisted on such early opening hours when no one else showed up. 

He rubbed his eyes, the early start not helped by the fact Daniel had been reading with a torch all night. He had picked up a weird book from the store or something. Of course he would pick up a late night reading habit once they were sharing a room. 

“I brought you guys some toast.” Karen balanced the plate on the top of some unsold art books. (Her organization was as great as her parenting.) 

“Thanks Mom!” 

Sean poked at a black spot under a thick layer of peanut butter. “Yeah, thanks.” 

“I gotta do some inventory but I’ll be back up for lunch.” 

“Can we go to the cool diner? Chris says the milkshakes are great.” 

Karen smiled. “Yeah. Does that sound good Sean?” 

He grunted in response and her grin flickered. 

“Right, work. You boys got this.” 

“We’re not your boys,” Sean muttered, although she didn’t hear. 

“Why are you so mean to Mom?” Daniel asked, his mouth full of toast. “She’s always nice.” 

“Right, she’s been real nice the first nine years of your life.” 

Daniel looked up at him with big eyes. “Sean…” 

“Fine, I’ll try. Put those eyes away Bambi.” 

He smiled. “So, I was thinking the strawberry milkshakes are Chris’ favourite but I like chocolate more so you could get one and we could share?” 

“Huh, yeah, sure.” Sean had only been half listening, distracted by the newest customer. Waking up early suddenly had its appeal. The girl had matted purple hair, an arm full of tattoos and a guitar strapped to her back. She caught him looking and winked. 

“Are you okay Sean? You just went really red and-” 

“What? No. Shut up.” Sean moved into a more casual position, his eyes still fixed on the pretty girl. His elbow knocked the tip jar and it fell off the edge. “Shit-” 

“Here.” Daniel put it back. “Woah…” 

“Good catch Enano.” 

“Yeah. Catch! I totally caught it.” Daniel smiled a little suspiciously. “Hey, you said a swear, you owe me a dollar.” 

“A dollar? It’s only a quarter at home.” 

“Now we’re away from Dad, you’re supposed to be a good influence.” 

“You get a quarter.” Sean dropped the coin in his hand. “Be cool.” 

“What?” 

“Hey boys.” The purple-haired girl leaned against the other end of the counter, an easy smile on her face. Her voice had a faint Southern tang. “So, I come to this town every Summer and I don’t recognise either of you cuties.” 

“I- we- um-” 

His brother beat him to it. “I’m Daniel.” 

Cursing his stammering, he finally managed to introduce himself. “I’m Sean.” 

“Why hello. I’m Cassidy.” 

“Hi. Um, cool guitar. You play?” (Internally, Sean cringed: You play? Why else would she have a guitar?) 

“Yeah, funnily enough. I’m actually here to hand out flyers for my band’s show. Could you hang it up?” 

“Yeah.” Sean took the flyer. “Your show is this Friday?” 

“And every other Friday. You wanna come?” 

“I’m invited?” 

Cassidy laughed. “Yeah sure. It is a concert. You’re lucky you’re cute, City Boy.” 

“City boy?” 

“It’s on your sweatshirt idiot,” Daniel whispered. Seattle Track Meet, 2015. He was frowning in the general direction of Cassidy. “We’re busy Friday so-” 

“No. Nope, I’m not busy. Ignore him.” Sean flattened his hair. “I’ll be there Friday.” 

“I’ll look out for you City Boy. Nice to meet you.” 

Sean waited until Cassidy had left before pumping his fist. “Yes! She called me cute Dan!” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“What?” 

Daniel pouted. “You promised you’d take me camping in the woods Friday. I already brought us marshmallows and walkie-talkies.” 

“Hey, there is plenty of time to camp in those freaky woods. But I only have one chance with a girl like Cassidy.” 

“Wrong, you have zero chances with any girl.” Daniel stomped off to the corner of the store. “You’re the worst.” 

“Dan- come on.” His brother went back to ignoring him. Sean crossed his arms. “Fine. Be like that!” 

There was the only sound of a raspberry in response. 

  “Nope, I’m totally with Danny. That was a jerk move.” 

“What? Lyla, you’re supposed to be my hype man- er woman. You’re always trying to set me up on dates.” 

“Dude, three weeks ago you were so into Jenn.” 

He sighed. “And Jenn was into Derek Anderson. We had ice cream and everything.” 

“Dude, don’t fuck up your relationship with Danny over a dumb Summer romance.” 

Sean buried his head in his pillow. “You sound like my Dad.” 

“Go to this hippy girl’s show next time. You Danny will do the face.” 

“The Bambi face?” Sean groaned. “I have been facing the Bambi face all week.” 

Lyla scoffed. “Is there anything else to add?” 

“Fine. I’ll go camping. But only for the s’mores.” 

“Okay, brother of the year.” 

“Thanks jerk.” 

Lyla blew him an exaggerated kiss. “Aw, love you too.”

Sean grabbed his backpack, moving to shove in his hoodie and torch. Daniel had already shoved one of the walkie-talkies inside. 

“Calling little wolf, we are back on for camping.” 

There was nothing but static on the other end. Sean pocketed the walkie-talkie and headed downstairs, calling his brother’s name. There was no one in the kitchen and only Karen sitting in the living room, chewing on the edge of a pen. 

“Hey, have you seen Daniel?” 

Karen looked up. “Oh, I thought you already left? Daniel passed by twenty minutes ago with the sleeping bags.” 

“That little-” Sean wasn’t panicking, but he was maybe sweating a little more than he had been before. “Um, right. I just forget a…” he scanned the room and grabbed Daniel’s weird book, “scary story. Classic camping right?” 

“Oh. Have a nice time then.” Karen hesitated. “I know you’re not thrilled to be here. But I hope by the end of the Summer we can understand each other better. 

“Me too.” Sean tried to look as un-guilty as possible. “See you tomorrow Karen.” 

  “Daniel!” He yelled, running head first into the spooky mass of woodlands beyond their store. “Dan, I’m sorry okay. Quit hiding!” 

No answer. Sean went digging for the walkie-talkie, now glowing an eerie blue. 

“Dan?” 

The walkie-talkie crackled again- “Sean?” 

“Dan.” He let out a shaky breath. “Hey, I’m sorry I ditched you-” 

“Sean, help!” 

He was clutching the walkie-talkie so hard his knuckles went white. “What’s wrong? I’m coming okay. What’s happening?” 

“Creature- help- monster- ahh!” 

Sean scanned the trees around him, suddenly aware he was lost too. Daniel had been the one eager to explore the woods but he had said it was too creepy and now it seemed he was being proven right. 

“Sean- book- monster-” 

He dug around to find the weird book Daniel had been carrying around all week. He had assumed it was from one of Karen’s displays but now he was looking at it, the journal seemed too real to go with the modern witchcraft bullshit she was trying to sell. The cover was dark blue and the pages thick with drawings and polaroids. 

“Dan, I have the book, what do I need to look for? What is this thing?” 

“Page- tree- monster-” Daniel was breathing heavily. “Hear?” 

“I can hear you,” he said comfortingly, “I’m coming.” 

He held the torch in his teeth, flicking through pages until he came across a few marked with Daniel’s doodles and writing. He seemed to be studying telekinetic powers, complete with a superhero sketch: SUPER /DUDE DAN/ WOLF? ask Sean for name ideas

He finally came across the page that looked like a bush drawn with yellow eyes. 

Dangerous 

camouflage shape shifters 

Hard to photograph shush ma-

Likes dark 

Under the original writing Daniel had added his own note: babies in woods. 

“Hey,” Sean held up the walkie-talkie, “is it these moss creatures? What well?” 

“Sean!” This time Daniel’s voice was clearer, his voice steadier. 

“Dan. What happened? Please tell me you had a good reason to go into the woods alone without telling me or Karen.” 

“Come on, that’s it? Can you yell at me when I’m not being chased?” 

“Okay. I’m coming, where are you?” 

“Where are you?” 

“By some trees. There’s a sign for a lake?” 

“Go to the lake, I’ll meet you there.” Daniel was cut off by some more static. “Hey, stop chewing that Mushroom!” 

Sean followed the signs, hoping Daniel at least would know a way out. How did he know the woods so well already? Was Sean that much of a shitty brother he hadn’t noticed him running off into these haunted-ass woods? 

The lake slowly came into the view but it was empty. 

“Daniel? Dan?” 

The lake was weirdly normal, just muddy water and a few droopy looking frogs. Still, Sean was still on edge, swinging the heavy torch from hand to hand. The faster they got home, the better. 

His relative peace was interrupted by the rustling of tree branches and heavy footsteps. Daniel came barging through the trees, a small bundle of something wrapped in his checked shirt. Something was chasing him and fast- Sean barely had time to move out the way as Daniel crashed into him. Something big and fast ran past. 

“Sean!” Daniel threw himself into his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t yell at me.” 

“I’m not mad. But you did scare the shit out of me.” 

“Sean-” 

“Fine, you get a dollar, let’s just go-” 

“No, look.” 

Sean turned slowly, met with amber eyes and a large face of bark and weeds. The creature sniffed at him curiously. 

“Um-” 

Daniel hid behind him. “Any ideas?” 

“You have the stupid haunted book!” The creature snorted, blowing hot air in his face. “Wait, the book said-” Sean slowly moved for his pocket, finding Dad’s lighter. 

“Dan, on three, we run.” 

“One-” he reached for a branch, “two-” he flicked the lighter on, “three!” Sean held the flaming branch up the creature’s face, dragging Daniel out the way as it squirmed. “What, the light should have scared it off.” 

“Remember when you said you weren’t going to get mad?” 

Sean turned to him, as Daniel revealed the squirming mass of moss in his arms. 

“You stole it’s kid?” 

“I always wanted a puppy! She’s called Mushroom-” 

Seeing it’s child, the larger creature started inching slowly towards Daniel. 

“Put it down! We can’t keep this weird monster-baby!” 

“We bonded!” The larger creature nudged its nose towards the smaller one, poking his chest with a spikey horn. “Okay, I’ll give her back.” 

Daniel held out his arms, placing the small creature on the floor. It wiggled a loose vine that could almost be a tail and followed its parents into the woods. 

Sean punched him in the arm. “That’s for trying to adopt an actual monster.” 

Daniel rubbed his arm. “Ouch.” 

Sean pulled him into a hug. “And that’s for scaring the shit out of me. I’m glad you’re okay though.” 

“Me too.” Daniel smiled. “Hey, now you owe me two dollars!” 

  After all the excitement, the brothers’ settled on camping in Karen’s yard. 

“So, you found that spooky book in a tree and didn’t think to tell me?” 

“You were being the worst!” 

Sean laughed. “Okay, I deserve that. But, next time you find a weird monster thing, tell me. We’re in this together.” 

“Okay promise.” Daniel threw another marshmallow at him. “Sorry I made you miss your concert. I guess Cassidy wasn’t that bad.” 

“Hey, I saved your butt, that’s more important.” Sean took a bite out a s’more. “Hey, there isn’t anything else you’re not telling me right?” 

“Actually,” Daniel held out his hand, a marshmallow hoovering a few inches above his palm. “Surprise?” 

(A boring Summer suddenly looked so much more appealing.)

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

I want to tell you... (Part 10.)

Description: Nathan Drake is not the exact definition of an unhappy man. His job is steady, his friends still see him from time to time, he plays football, but his marriage is his main problem. Many things will change when a special person comes to his life.

Part Summary: Everything was slowly going off rails again for both you and Nate. But at the same time, you decided there’s something lingering in the air, which you should ignore. 

A/N: We’ll be slowly falling down to the pit of bad news here. Anyway, if you’d feel as if you are trapped in a toxic relationship you’re not happy in, please, don’t let that to yourself. Try talking to your friends, family of professors/co-workers. Loneliness, cheating, fear and depression isn’t fun to deal with. And I’m speaking out of personal experience. You’re not alone. 

Word counter: 4.9 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme​, @peakymarvels​, @nemodoren​, @flavorishy​, @decadentwinnerjudgedream​

Series master list: H E R E

Nathan’s car sing-along playlist: H E R E

When you came home, the whole flat was still silent and dark. Mike was still at work, so you had a lot of time to just sit down on the couch and to think about the wild things Nathan had outlined. And when your boyfriend finally came home, after an hour of you sitting in front of a TV playing some rom-com. The man walked over to you and tried to lean down, kissing you on your forehead - and being the mad little bean you were, you moved away from him.

"Hey, come on." - The man put his bag next to the couch, sighing loudly when he realized that he's probably in trouble. Slowly, Mike sat beside you, leaning his elbow into the back of the couch, moving closer to you. - "I was working, I swear." - He leaned closer to you, kissing the crook your neck gently while smoothing your thigh up and down. - "And I had you on my mind all day, baby, trust me. I want you. I want you so fucking much now." - The man leaned closer and started to get more heated up than just a moment ago.

Maybe he was working? He was at the new workplace just for a month, he wouldn't have time to start some kind of a relationship, right? That would be too soon. Too bold of him when you still didn't quite trust him with keeping his dick inside his briefs. No. He surely wasn't cheating on you - and this thought sold you into leaning into the touch, kissing him back with equal passion. And with that, the last thought about Nathan and Sully being a part of a gang flew out of the window.

But not for long - the next few days, you've spent with buying you some textbooks and reference materials for your college, which you were about to start in October, you looked around for a few more decorations to put into your flat and overall, you tried to fight the loneliness on your own again. Why? Mike was constantly at work. Sure, you were aware that Mike is a workaholic, but it did rose your eyebrows that he is at every single day, working overtime so early after your new start.

Your boyfriend dismissed you with a small smile every single time. He told you that you have nothing to be worried about because he was just trying to impress his bosses so his payment would be raised quickly. And this time, you decided to believe him instead of jumping straight to conclusions - which proved to be right the last time nonetheless. But this time, you tried to keep your cool.

Which was proved quite difficult when Nate texted you about your schedule - he wanted to plan the hangout between his shifts so you would both have a lot of time to spend together. You were free anytime he would ask you to come to see him, so the date was set on next Monday, because Nate had a shift on Sunday, preparing meals for some rich people party in their restaurant. He texted you the address where his flat was at and on Monday evening, you were standing there nervously and waited before Nate will run the stairs down to open up the door for you.

He and his wife chose a nice location to have their flat at. It was one of those locations where families with children live their day-to-day life. The apartments there were spacious and modern, they had a nice feeling to them. It was close to the beach and the sea, so Nathan could go rollerskating every time he wished to. And you had just one question - why was Nate and his friends very financially secure beyond believable. There was something iffy about this whole company. Nathan was just about to tell you.

"Hey, hey, come in. I've been waiting for you." - The man told you as he opened up the apartment building front door, inviting you inside. Honestly, you'd love to end up in a flat like that if you would be about to start a family. Even the halls and stairs were spacious. The whole building was feeling very safe. No-one who was a villain secretly would be living in such a building.

The true moment of dripping a jaw came when Nate had unlocked the door to their apartment, inviting you in. It was beautiful - there were souvenirs from all around the world, hand-knitted colorful carpets - you loved a small corner with two bean bags which was somehow inviting. And next to these two, there was a whole wall covered in dream catchers. The rest of the flat certainly had that warm, family-like feeling. It wasn't tiny in the slightest, every small inch of the apartment was inviting and lightheartedly vibing to you. There were photos of Elena and Nate everywhere, which was the first time you had ever seen her. She was a pretty blonde woman, smaller than Nate with big brown eyes and big smiles in each of the photos. You had to note that she was athletic, to say the least - you could ever catch a glimpse of her jogging t-shirts in the laundry basket.

She was hugging his waist and they... They were looking very happy. But one thing that hit your eyes was the fact that these photos were fairly old. Nate caught you staring at one of them and he chuckled, pointing at his with a small smile. - "That was our vacation three years back. We were in Europe, in smaller countries like Czechia, Slovakia, and Austria. It was very nice." - You nodded with your eyebrows slightly arched as you looked at Elena wearing a summer dress.

"She's looking happy and, honestly, she's beautiful. You're a great match." - You stated quietly, which made Nate grin funnily. Neither of you commented on his grin - you put some sweets you bought on the countertop. When you commented on your cooking, you weren't trying to be funny. There was a high probability that your food would poison him, which made you realize that you should buy at least some donuts for Nate to snack on and buy yourself some coffee while you were at it. - "But now, you promised me to tell me about the... Things you and your friends anticipate in. And if you won't make me believe that you're not a white meat trafficker, a gangster or a drug dealer, we're done." - You looked Nate in the eyes.

The man was aware of his friendship with you being put on a tight line at the moment. But at the same time, he knew he had enough proof to show you that he, indeed, is an archeologist - well, maybe not exactly the archeologist you knew from real life, but he liked to consider himself one. IN the end, he was extremely passionate about history and he could go on about it for hours and hours. Yeah. Nate was most probably an archeologist.

"Okay, so, sit down here and wait for me. I'll bring you some stuff to show you. Books, journals, maps, artifacts, everything." - The part about artifacts made you furrow and straighten up as you sat down on the couch. Why was he talking about maps and artifacts? Was he smuggling stuff over the borders? What the fuck was Nathan working on in his free time? But he threw you out of your train of thoughts pretty fast when he dropped a box full of stuff next to you. You freaked out and sighed, closing your eyes dramatically while Nate bent over to take out one of the first books he had there, sitting beside you.

"This my mom's journals, the ones Florence was talking about back at the dinner." - Nate went through the pages until he found the passage he was most fond of before putting it into your palms carefully as if it was a commodity of a high price. First, you didn't have an idea about what you were looking at, and when Nate sensed your cluelessness, he smirked and pointed at the name. - "Henry Avery was a big pirate back in the day. There was this huge heist around the 16th century for which he got famous. To tell you in modern slang, this guy was huge. And according to some theories, this man had established the pirate utopia of Libertalia. But that's just a theory at the moment." - Nate sighed and watched as you read random passaged from his mom's journals with a slight furrow, mouthing each word to yourself. Just when you wanted to give him the journal back, a photo fell out of it - and when you looked at it carefully, you realized you're looking and much younger Nate.

The guy next to you was around his early thirties and this boy was... Around thirteen? God, was this picture even real to start with? Nate leaned over your shoulder to grin at the visual documentation of what he was looking like.

"This is my brother. Sam. He's a great guy and he got me through a lot of stuff." - Nate pointed at the other guy in the picture. The boys weren't looking alike at all, but something was telling you that these two boys were related. While you were stuck at the picture, Nate laughed victoriously as he pulled another photo out of the box. It was hidden in a small, leatherback journal that had a small hole from a bullet on the front side.

"Won't you look at that." - The man smiled at the memories connected to the photo. You could see someone somewhat similar to Sully. And the man was looking very similar to what he was looking for when you first met him, so the photo was pretty recent. - "This one is like... Two years old. We were in this rainforest, searching for the lost city of gold. You know what I'm talking about?" - Nate wiggled his eyebrows and gave you the photo.

He was there along with Elena and Sully, each of them was dirty and visibly very tired. Elena, with a big smile of gold, was sitting on big old crates, thus being the center of the picture. Nate, with a shotgun, leaned to his shoulder, was on her right side, leaned to the boxes as well with messy hair. Sully was looking the finest, standing on her left side with a smug grin and a lit-up cigar. Sure, each of them was tired, but they were happy as hell for sure. They looked like a family.

"Why do you have a shotgun here, Nate?" - You asked with a small grin. - "But no, do tell, please." - You leaned your back into the couch and let Nate talk. He just talked about the lost city of El Dorado, sir Francis Drake, and Panama.

He spoke about Rafe, Nate, and Sam getting locked up in a Panamian prison for the sake of research and about Sam getting his ass imprisoned for a few because hurting one of the guards. Nathan told you the story about how they met again, finding a brother in one another again.

Nate showed you small trinkets with a lot of historical value he collected throughout the years of treasure hunting, telling you about each of them. There were numerous photos of him and his partners in crime, of a woman named Chloe and a man named Charlie and many photos of him and Elena on various excavation spots.

Sure, Nate didn't keep his inability to keep at least one of the historical spots intact, but he was still a skilled and smart archeologist nonetheless. Sully managed to get him some good and well-paid gigs. It turned out that Victor knew Florence for some time now because some of these gigs were mostly her doing.

The Drake couple had many photos where they looked so happy it made you smile as well. But, the more photos of them you saw and the more Nate told you about the history behind each of them, the more the whole situation didn't make sense.

What happened to them? Why weren't they together at these spots anymore? Why weren't there any more photos? But when Nate was so passionate about everything, you couldn't just ask him, could you? That would bring him more pain than necessary. And you, in any case, didn't want to stir up the dust once it settled for at least a while.

That afternoon, you managed to drift off to sleep while Nate was telling you at least the seventh story about some pirate or who. But the man didn't wake you up. Nate put a blanket over your chest, tugging you in as he got to the preparation of dinner for you.

It was almost eight p.m. when your phone started to ring. It was just buzzing, but Mike's photo was lighting all over the dining room. Which made Nate sick from his stomach.

The memory of the conversation you and Mike had back in the day suddenly tickled Nathan's memory. Was the boy cheating on you? At the moment? Or not? Should he pick up the phone and ask about the topic like a man could ask a man?

He could and should do that. He would do that if he had the balls at the moment. So he just picked up the vibrating device and shook your shoulder gently. That woke you up instantly. When you realized what's happening and who's calling, you sat straight and tried to get the sleepiness out of your head.

"Hey, hey, baby." - You mumbled sleepily and got your feet, pacing around the room at a fast pace. Your head was still dizzy, but you tried your best to concentrate on Mike's voice.

"Oh. Oh. Again? That's strange. Yeah. I get that. Sure. Love you. Bye." - There was this deep sigh when you ended the call, looking at the phone in your hand. Nate was just cooking the cheese sauce for your pasta. His blue eyes flickered at you standing there with an empty look in your face. But he chose not to talk until you'd like to talk.

"Listen. It's late. I should go home now." - You mumbled sleepily, having those dizzy moments of just woken up person.

"Woah. Not a chance." - Nate answered immediately, turning down the volume of heat under his cheese sauce.

"I don't think you're a psychopath or human trafficker by now, but you can't hold me here, Nathan." - An angry huff left your lips as you went for your jacket.

"I won't hold you here, I'm not a monster. The thing is that the city is dangerous after dusk. And I'm cooking dinner. So you'll have dinner, a glass of wine and then I'll drive you home. And that's not a topic for a debate." - Your friend pointed a finger at you and dried his palms in a cooking towel. Immediately, you straightened and widened your eyes, putting the jacket on the back of the chair. Nate licked his lips, steering the almost finished masterpiece.

This man didn't look like the type who would be a general, but when he started to act like one, dear Lord. For a moment, there was a glimpse of something hiding under the surface.

"He stayed there overtime again?" - Nathan asked when the sudden hint of anger disappeared into the thin air again. First, you put your lips together and bit them nervously, sitting down to the table. When you came in, you didn't notice that Nate has fresh flowers on the table, but there were daisies he had picked up earlier that very day. But in the end, you nodded. - "He's there tomorrow as well?" - "No, tomorrow Mike's at home, we have some plans." - "Oh."

The rest of the evening was quiet in its entirety. It was strange to feel the fear dragging you deeper and deeper back into your head. Why was all of this so known? So reminiscing? And it all fell the lowest when you watched Nate driving off back home.

Again, you were walking back home all alone and on your own. The flat was pitch black and empty. Quiet even though the music coming from the street. Weird even though you were the leading designer of it, even though you knew every small corner of the flat... It didn't feel comfortable inside. When you sat on your couch, you let the TV turned off. Tears were streaming down from your eyes as you tried to keep it in. You drank the last bottle of wine you had in your room. Woah. Why should you be home alone when your boyfriend was caught up in your work again? You didn't see any reason for that.

Mike was honestly jealous of you hanging out with Nathan as much as you did. But why were you around the man so much? Huh? Because you moved across the fucking state when his sorry ass started to cheat on you and got caught with it. Every member of your family was back in your hometown where you met Mike and fell in love with him. And Nathan was just as lonely as you were. He and his friends accepted you as their friend and wanted to hang out with you too, at least that was what you thought this is about. Fuck Michael. Fuck him.

When you were drunk enough, you did the biggest bullshit you possibly could do. You got on your feet and left to search through Mike's stuff. People who loved and believed each other never went through each other's stuff. Huh. Funny. You didn't trust him since the first time he told you he has to stay overtime at work again. Last time he used that excuse in your hometown, you set on your journey to bring him dinner. And he was fucking one of his colleagues on his desk, moaning her name through the whole floor.

Your mom told you to break the things off with Mike immediately... But... He was sorry for a long time, he kept saying sorry, again and again. Slowly, he made you sure that all he needs is another chance. As soon as you told Mike you're willing to give him the chance, he asked for transmission to a different branch of the company where he was working. And they told him they have a good place in one city. And he accepted immediately just for the sake of your relationship.

Yet there you were fucking again. You were going through his stuff - sniffed his clothes, looked at the collars of his shirts, through his pockets and all the shit like that. And you found a small piece of paper at which you almost started to laugh. - "Amy. Amy, you motherfucker? Okay." - You mouthed and started to cry again. Her number was there too just as the heart drawn above her name.

Since that day, you hang out with Nate almost every day. He took you almost everywhere - on hikes, to have an ice-cream, roller skating, swimming, he taught you how to cook and even went shopping for your school supplies with you one day. Florence seemingly very liked you. She loved it when you joined them for dinner, you were a fun companion to have at her home.

Sully, if he'd have to be honest, was at a weird phase around you. It was beautiful to see Nate relaxed and contained after all those years of him and Elena getting further and further away from each other mentally and emotionally, but he was very much afraid that Nate will fall in love with you. At that point, you were just Nate's crush. The man was fond of you, which could be felt with every interaction you had. But Nate couldn't forget about still being a legally married man. Sure, he and Elena had a weird idea of romantic, but this relationship still had a chance to be saved.

One time, you invited Nate over when Mike was on his way to Seattle. He was supposed to stay there for the following five days, it was one of his daily work trips. You hadn't told anyone about the Amy paper you found in the pocked of Mike's jeans. But you needed to talk with someone about that. Ever since no-one other than Nate was free at that time.

"I would like to tell you why we had moved in here. We're actually from somewhere way out of the way." - You told him as you sat in front of the opened window, listening to the blasting life under your window. Nate sniffed his wine and smiled at you, nodding so you'd know he's listening to you.

"I met Mike at one party where I sure as hell wasn't supposed to be. I was... Young and dumb at that time and why I sure am older, I am not any wiser. He was this popular, funny guy who the girls went after like crazy while I was this normal girl. Dear Lord did I fell in love with him that night. Neither of us drank, we just sat down into the grass in front of the house and talked like two normal people. Honestly, Mike charmed with his humor and remarks. After that, we started dating." - While bringing up these memories, you were smiling as Nate leaned in lower into the plush chair, listening to every sound coming out of you. Even these were hard to hear at times. The man was fully focused on you.

"Because he was so much older, it naturally caught a lot of attention. But time passed by, I was almost finished with my high school and Mike had this good position at some company. He was good at what he was doing, but I noticed he's there a lot more than he should be instead of being with me. I mean, I didn't expect him to be with me every single day, no, but... We used to go to the cinema, on dates, walks when we were both free and suddenly, this seemed to be somehow problematic for him. I couldn't understand what was going on." - This had Nate to listen even more than before as he watched you gulping down the whole glass of wine at once, immediately pouring yourself another one.

"As usual, one night, I got a call from Mike who was at work way longer than he should be. And I decided to bring him some food, which I shouldn't do." - You lowered your head, furrowing at the memory. No matter how much Nathan wanted to tell you that it's not your fault, he stayed silent and watched you trying to gather yourself. - "It's strange to see someone who... Proclaims are in love with you pulling in and out into someone you've never met, telling them how beautiful they are. I thought I lost him at the moment I saw all of that. Christ help me, I was devastated." - You nodded to yourself. - "And to have a fresh start, we moved here. A good job proposition and a promise of getting it back together was what made me sure of it. But... It seems to slowly get back into the old trails."

There was a prolonged moment of silence between you and Nathan, who was slowly drinking his wine. You were extremely vulnerable at the moment, and not only that. You were also noticeably unhappy, worried, and mentally tired from the situation you found yourself at. Nathan was the man to understand all of it. He knew what you were talking about just like he felt just like you. So he decided to tell you his story.

"I met Elena through this gig." - The man giggled into his glass of wine, putting it down to his lap to take a deep breath. - "It was just after my brother was put into the sentence in Panama. Sullivan and I didn't have much money to take off to the Panamanian coast and... We needed funding. And a hell of money. That was when I saw her show on TV. It was talking about architecture and stuff. I thought it was a great idea. We wrote a business e-mail, telling her about the Panama things, about Drake and inviting her on our treasure hunt if her company pays for everything. Holy crap, they paid for every small thing Sully and I could imagine." - Nathan smiled at the memory, making you smile back at him.

"At first, Elena was annoying the living shit out of me. I swear to God, there were times when I just wanted to leave her there, but to my luck, I never did. After this thing was over, we started dating. And it was working out for some time. Soon, I realized she's the one I want by my side no matter what. Naturally, I proposed to her and she accepted - we got married, moved to a flat, started our normal life together. And it was quite nice for the first few months. For the sake of our relationship, I decided not to take any more gigs - but one day, she came home with this light in her eyes, telling me 'Nate, you're not going to believe this'. She was offered a job proposition in Europe, which is a huge thing for a journalist. I didn't tell her not to go, it was just for three months and I knew that once this will be over, she'll come back home and it will be just us again." - Nate looked at you, gently scratching his earlobe. Your head was leaned into the back of the couch and you didn't leave Nate off your sigh even just for a second.

"But then, she came with the gig in Africa, then, there was Dubai and now... She's in Thailand. Hadn't seen her for the last four months and the calls aren't as frequent as I would like them to be... But that's how things are. Elena is living her best life and she's one of the best tourism journalists out there. Y/N, honestly, I'm very proud of her..." - "But you'd like her to be here with you now rather than having her gone off the radar all the time, huh?" - You whispered, slowly licking your lips. It was an indication that you understood what he was telling you. Both of your relationships were troubled in one way or another.

Your partners seemed to be far away from you - and the closer they got, the more the distance grew. Suddenly, Nate picked himself up from the couch and checked his watch, arching his eyebrows. - "It's late, I should get going now." - The man told you quietly, hoping you'd say that you want him to stay there with you. Even for a small moment longer. But awkwardly, you nodded and walked to the kitchen to pick his jacket up from the chair.

"You're right. We both better get some sleep. The cycling today got me good." - You joked, giving the jacket to Nathan. That was the moment when your fingers crossed on the piece of clothing, yet neither of you pulled your hand back. It was fairly obvious from the last couple of days that maybe, Nathan felt something more towards you than a friendly relationship. Ever since the start, you tried to play Drake off as a witty, funny friend of yours who was just sweet and caring more than the other guys.

Although, the more time you spent with the man, the man undismissible these heavy eye contacts, inviting smiles and body language started to get husky. Not to make the saint out of yourself, thinking about kissing the man flew through your head all of a sudden a few days back too when he took you out swimming on the beach. This man was a hunk. A real one, if you'd ever seen some. But you tried to ignore it for the sake of keeping it in the friendly boundaries.

How much more obvious and harder could Nathan make it for you? Probably a lot, because you felt the tips of his fingers gently bumping to your knuckles, smoothing your fingers with his. The man's breath hitched as he moved a small inch closer to you, straightening above you to look down on your face. For the first time, he saw something that wasn't there before. The insecurity. Whether it was about what was happening or about the vulnerable side of you, which you showed him just minutes prior, the sudden vulnerability and reluctant feeling were present in your face.

A kiss was sure an option at the moment. Nonetheless, Nathan stepped away and pulled his jacket out of your palm, deciding to keep his cool. - "The hiking tomorrow. You still up for it?" - The man asked to beat the uncomfortable silence which accumulated around you. With your cheeks on fire, you smiled at the man and nodded. - "And a glass of wine at your apartment. I will be looking forward to that." - You answered as he was leaving your flat.

But really, was there any point in looking forward to something that could both of you cost your relationships? Or was it just a dumb wish?

[ambssssssssss]

Found Part 5 Sneak Peek

I promise I didn't forget about this fic!

~

Juliana lay awake, soft puffs of warm air ghosting across the skin of her neck in a steady pattern as the woman in her arms slept soundly. It was a bit of a role reversal for them, Valentina had been the one to lie awake at night, worrying needlessly about her life and progress and whether she deserved Juliana or not. That was something Valentina had done quite often in the past three years that they had been together, four since Valentina had returned to Juliana after being missing and presumed dead for three years. It was unbelievable, Juliana thought, how much they had to suffer to get to where they were now. Three years of bliss, three years of hell, a year of being together but apart and then, finally, three years to mark the start of forever. Valentina had graduated with her degree in journalism and business, and worked at El Centro with her older siblings until she stumbled into modeling. Well, not stumbled. The opportunity had arisen and Valentina had almost let it pass by her, content to focus on her journalism career, before deciding that her story -at least the parts the media knew about, nothing about El Vacio - her scars, could help women like her feel beautiful again. Women who had suffered needlessly, at the hands of other women, men, society as a whole. She could empower them, remind them that beauty is not a quantifiable aspect. Juliana nearly burst with pride and affection for Valentina when the first photo shoot came out and soon the two of them were taking the fashion world by storm. Tomorrow, it would all come to a head as Juliana launched her first ever line from her self-entitled brand, with Valentina modeling the center piece that had been designed with her in mind. 

Funnily enough, it wasn’t the insane amount of work coming her way the next day that kept Juliana awake that night, nor was it the nervous energy and hope that her first real launch and show would go well. It wasn’t that some of the biggest names in fashion, and one or two of her close mentors, would be there from all over the world or that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that Juliana had forgotten something that would end up being vitally important. Although those were all worries she carried around in the back of her mind, they weren’t causing the inability to sleep she currently had. No, that came from the small, velvet box that had been hidden in her nightstand for four months. The box that contained the ring she had worked endlessly on with a close friend of hers who made jewelry. The ring that would, hopefully, be on Valentina’s left hand for the rest of their lives. 

It wasn’t the show that made Juliana feel so flooded with excitement, nervousness and just the smallest amount of fear. It was what she planned to do after, during the after party and surrounded by their families and closest friends. Valentina deserved the perfect proposal and Juliana was determined to give that to her. 

The realization that she wanted to marry Valentina had been unsurprising when it came to Juliana, nearly a year ago when she had arrived home from a two week business trip and found Valentina curled up on the couch because she couldn’t sleep in their bed without Juliana. It wasn’t a huge moment for her, but when Valentina curled into her when Juliana lifted her from the couch to carry her to bed, Juliana knew she would never want anyone else. She couldn’t imagine spending her life with anyone else. Juliana had began searching for a ring the next day. She had waited for the right time, planned as much as she could, wrote and rewrote a speech to deliver and felt more than a little nervous the whole time. Not nervous that Valentina would say no, although that small voice of doubt lingered annoyingly in the back of her mind, but nervous that it wouldn’t be enough. Valentina deserved all the happiness in the world, more than that even. 

“You’re thinking to loudly chiquita.” Valentina’s words were muffled against Juliana’s neck, the arm she had wrapped around Juliana's waist flexed slightly to pull her closer. 

“Sorry, amor,” Juliana whispered back and dropped a kiss against Valentina’s forehead. She felt Valentina’s lips shifting against her neck, a soft kiss on her pulse point. Then, Valentina lifted her head slightly so she could look at Juliana. She blinked sleepily, rubbing at her face with one hand. 

“What’s keeping you up so late?” Valentina questioned lightly. 

“Just thinking about tomorrow,” Juliana felt Valentina pull away from her slightly and watched as Valentina settled beside her, laying on her stomach with her head propped up in her hand. Juliana rolled to her side and rested her hand on Valentina’s waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of Valentina’s shirt that had rose up slightly in her sleep. 

“Worrying about tomorrow you mean,” Valentina brushed a loose strand of hair out of Juliana’s face with her free hand, “needlessly worrying, at that.” 

“You know me too well, mi amor.” Juliana chuckled softly as Valentina rolled her eyes. 

“I know you need to sleep,” Valentina cupped Juliana’s cheek. “Tomorrow will be perfect, I know it will.” The smile that Valentina gave was soft and reassuring, Juliana nearly burst with love for this woman. She smiled back and closed the distance between their lips. Valentina hummed against her lips, swooping in to steal another kiss when Juliana started to pull away. Juliana chuckled slightly as Valentina shifted in bed until she was laying on top of Juliana. 

"I thought you said we need to sleep?" Juliana asked softly, tilting her head to the side as Valentina trailed kiss over her neck. 

"I'm not tired," Valentina smirked against Juliana's neck as Juliana groaned softly. "But if you want to stop…" 

"I never said that," Juliana protested immediately, wrapping her arms around Valentina's shoulders when she started to move like she would roll off of Juliana. Valentina laughed and let Juliana connect their lips again. 

"I love you," Juliana said when they pulled apart for a brief moment, letting Valentina go only long enough for both of them to get rid of their shirts. 

"I love you," Valentina replied, hovering over her love. "And I'm about to show you just how much," 

Juliana's laugh soon turned into a gasp and then a moan as Valentina made good on her promise. 

[rinnaser]

Personal Writing Philosophy

I looked out my window and saw signs of winter starting to reveal themselves. Bare trees make up most of the scenery, and freshly fallen snow gently sets on the ground. I look to my left and saw my neighbor lifting up her little girl so she can hang the last set of Christmas lights onto their door. Suddenly the scent of gingerbread cookies wafts in the air, making me salivate and serving as a beautiful reminder that the Holidays are just around the corner. Now that classes are almost over, I find myself with more free time, and with a lot of thoughts. This brings back nostalgia of when I was younger and carefree. For as long as I can remember I have always had a journal that I carried around everywhere, granted I was seven or eight and most of the journal was filled with doodles but whenever I was feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion I would pour my little heart into those pages. That is where my love for writing blossomed. Snapping out of my thoughts I start to return to my bed, which just happens to my favorite spot to write out of pure convenience and my love for fluffy blankets. My cat, Alvin, curls up next to me and starts to purr as I pet his tiny head. Picking up my pen, I start to write…

I am generally a very emotional person and those emotions often spill over into my writing. When I write for me or for entertainment, everything that I write is curated to emit what I feel at a given moment, and also to give a little insight into my life. Therefore to make sure my writing gives off that authentic “Rin” feeling, I read it out loud over and over again and tweak as needed until it I am satisfied with it. Funnily enough, I have been told several times by many people that my writing sounds exactly like the way I speak and it is a little bit eerie. But writing academically is something that I have struggled with because it does not always require the same amount of personalization and originality that creative writing does. In high school, I had a variety of writing classes to pick from and at one point I tried both a creative writing class and a traditional seminar-style class, and I personally liked certain aspects of both classes but I was unable to determine what kind of class I liked better. So entering First-Year Writing I was not sure what to expect. I had heard from other people, that this class is either a hit or a miss. Some people enjoyed it because they felt that they came out a better writer, and others said it wasn’t for them because they felt like it restricted them when it came to expressing themselves

Taking this class for the first time, I was blown away by all the technical terms and ways of writing. Again, I did have a lot of experience with academic writing, so learning everything at one time was a bit overwhelming. But as we progressed through the semester I found that writing was getting easier and it made me into a more confident writer. In class, we discussed and set goals that I believe helped me progress and manifest into a better writer. One of those goals being “recognizing that writing is a social activity, a matter of experimenting with the rhetorical conventions of different genres and negotiating the expectations of audiences.” I consider writing to be so powerful in all regards- legislation, creativity, and expressing one’s thoughts. The latter of the three being the most important factor to me. If you think about it, we’re always writing- whether it be texting, commenting on a post, emailing. We’re constantly writing our thoughts and feelings on a daily basis, and so many people see it. So when we write, or at least when I write, I do so to express my point of view on something, and that was what we had to do for the Race and Identity, Gender and Dual Narrative essays. When writing these essays I had to be analytical, and figure out an appropriate way to address the audience.“I focused on [...] being reader-friendly, and attempted to make it appeal to the outer audience.” (PWP 1.1). Also to help with that I relied heavily on the acronym GASP/E, which stands for genre, audience, and stance. “it helped tremendously with laying the footwork of this essay, is writing out the GASP/E, it made me aware of what parts to focus on.” (PWP 1.2) I always identified my genre choice whether to write an analytical or narrative essay, followed by figuring out who my intended, invoked, and real audiences are. Then I had to decide my stance on my issue as well as identify the purpose of writing the essay; was I writing this paper to inform, to expose, to convince, etc… Identifying these points also strengthened my writing because each time I write I do so with a different set of audiences in mind. So I tailor to the different people that are reading my work, which makes it a social activity. 

Another goal that has aided in my writing journey,  is goal two “using technology to design and share information across multiple communities” I never thought about the importance of technology and its correlation to writing before applying it firsthand. Technology has allowed people to connect and share thoughts on current events, trending topics, and issues of society. Through Blackboard, a website that allows classmates and professors to connect, I have been able to see the impacts technology has on writing. My classmates and I were able to share our thoughts and make comments on each other’s views on certain issues and readings. Traditionally, I would just write my thoughts on a certain idea without having the ability to see what all my other classmates believed. So, this has definitely allowed me to consider other’s ideas and has transformed the way we can interact with one another. I also find that my thoughts and ideas resonate with other classmates and we are able to share ideas that strengthen our thoughts and help develop a cohesive idea that flows better and ultimately helps me write a stronger essay. 

When writing, goal three “demonstrate the ability to locate, critically evaluate, and employ a variety of sources for a range of purposes” is vital. Writing about topics like current events, you need sources to back up your claims and information. Personally, I consider looking for sources the most grueling part of writing an essay. There are many times when I am unable to find relevant sources that back up my claims, and I have to dig into the sources to look for very specific quotations or evidence. Over time, it’s become a much less difficult task to look for specific sources because of certain tactics I’ve used to help me look for more relevant sources. One method I’ve become used to doing is searching for prominent figures or subjects that would be associated with my claims, and try looking for sources around them. This helps me find statistics and quotations I can readily use for my essays. This came in especially helpful when I was writing my research paper, as it required a lot of sources and I had to sift through countless papers to find evidence to strengthen my claim. 

Lastly, the sixth-course goal “Building cross-cultural connections and relationships with others to solve problems collaboratively and strengthen independent thought” was very helpful to my journey to becoming a better writer. In class all the essays we completed were peer-reviewed by our classmates, and I felt that having another set of eyes on our papers helped me understand that what I was writing made sense in regards to the prompts and also if I was meeting all the requirements. There were several instances where I felt like I had done a good job in explaining myself and my thoughts but my partner would point that adding a sentence or removing something would help my essay flow better and as well as be more clear. Also, this built a better relationship with my classmates as I got a chance to know them better both in person and through their writing.

I am nearing the end of First-Year Writing, and I feel like that I have picked up and learned valuable skills that would help me progress in future writing classes and in my career as well. I think I am a much better writer than I was 4 months ago, because of this class. 

[purplesurveys]

158

What is the thing that makes you take a survey? If they don’t have grammar or spelling that I have to correct all the time. Open-ended questions are a must, too.

Have you ever had an alcoholic beverage? Yes I had wine once. Hated it.

Do you ever feel like you just HAVE to sing out loud? I feel that way most when I’m alone in the car. Then I can be as loud as I wish. It’s a good way to destress after a long day and whil dealing with Metro Manila traffic.

Have you ever watched RuPaul's Drag Race? If yes, what makes it enjoyable? No, I’ve never seen it.

Do you own a TV? If so, what do you watch on it? We do, but I’ve since had the one in my room removed. I never watch anything on the TV these days, instead we use it for the PS4 and watching DVD’s.

Do you have Netflix/ViaPlay/other similar online channel? We finally have Netflix in the Philippines but I don’t understand why since the national internet connection is too slow to keep up anyway.

Have you ever watched Nostalgia Critic or Nostalgia Chick? I’ve never even heard of either.

What is the strangest type of food you have eaten? I dunno, no food is foreign to me. I guess the closest I can consider strange though was my experience eating sea urchin. Ohhhh and I ate spicy chocolate ice cream too, that was definitely something else.

What is the strangest type of candy you have eaten? I’m not into candy so I’ve only ever eaten the popular ones.

What would be your most ideal profession? If we’re really talking ideal, I’d be on my way to becoming an astronaut now.

What kind of rides do you enjoy the most at amusement parks? ...Food stalls.

Have you tried those colouring books for adults? No. I’ve wanted them for the past two years but was always too frugal to treat myself to one.

What is a topic you definitely don't want to talk about with anyone? I’m the most open book I know and there’s no topic I ever want to avoid, sensitive as it may get; but I guess, I don’t want to be too honest with anyone who is mutually suicidal, for my own sake and theirs.

Someone is about to take your picture. How do you react? I just smile and hope I look decent. I was never one to give poses.

Do you frequent any "funny pictures" site? If so, which one? Not anymore. I was in 9GAG a lot when it was popular but that was like six years ago.

Do you wash your dishes by hand or do you have a dishwasher? By hand. Dishwashers are foreign as heck to Asians.

Which scent of fabric softener do you like the best? No preference.

Do you ever get a chance to stay home alone? If not, why not? Yup, I’m normally home alone on Mondays since I don’t have school. I love being alone, so it’s relaxing to me.

Are you/have you ever been engaged? If not, would you like to be one day? No, and yes.

Are you/have you ever been married? If not, would you like to be one day? No, and yes.

What makes a person ugly? Being homophobic and/or racist.

What makes a person beautiful? Meh, I’m pretty cynical about people.

What is the craziest hairstyle and colour you've had? I’ve never been crazy with my hair so the only time I got daring with it was when I had it layered in fifth grade. It was a completely different look and everyone was sh00kt. Still pretty modest compared to what others have done to their hair though.

What was the last book you read? I read some snippets from Without Seeing the Dawn, which is one of the few required high school readings I actually enjoyed. It’s about life before and during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines. Super raw and sensitive stuff, but I guess that’s why I’m drawn to it.

Is there a book that you are currently reading? ^ I plan to continue that book.

Do you prefer an actual book or ebooks? Why? Actual books. I cannot for the life of me concentrate when trying an e-book.

What was your first gaming console? One of my first memories actually was playing with those zapper guns in the 90s, so I’m guessing we could have had either an NES or SNES.

Have you ever played with an actual pinball machine? Doubt it. I used to play with the one that came with Windows XP though; I was on that shit all the time when Internet wasn’t a thing yet.

^If so, what was the first pinball machine you played?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how close are you? Yeah. We’re close on a buddy sort of level, but it doesn’t get any deeper than that. We don’t have heart-to-heart conversations or hug or write anything for each other.

Is there something you're eagerly waiting for? What is it? I’m waiting for the weekend to start so I can finally have some semblance of a break.

Do you/have you ever belonged to an organization? If so, which one? Applying for one, currently. It’s a journalism club in my university.

What is something you're very passionate about? 2016 me would say journalism. I dunno at this point.

Is there something you'd like to change about yourself? Uh yeah. I wish my anxiety were gone. I wish I was less sensitive. I wish I didn’t have my triggers.

Have you ever had a sunburn? Where on your body was it? I got sunburns quickly as a kid, and it was all over – nose, arms, back. I never get them now.

Do you have or would you like to have a tattoo? If so, where? I wanted a bunch before, but quickly realized I will never get over my fear of needles and anything penetrating my skin.

What are you studying or what was the last thing you studied? Hmmmmm last thing I studied was my prof’s slides in geography, which he uploaded onto Google Drive.

Which fictional villain is your favourite? Welp I can’t think of any right now but Sharpay Evans was neat. I was always rooting for her.

What was the last present you gave someone? I gave my girlfriend’s sisters their favorite chocolate snacks if that counts.

Do you enjoy plays? If so, what was the latest one you saw? Sure, when I get to watch them. I won’t voluntarily get tickets to see them though. The last one I saw was a friend’s theater club production last March 2016.

Can you hear your neighbours through the walls? I’m chilling in Gabie’s place right now, but no the neighbors aren’t making any noise.

Have you ever had something custom made? Yes, my prom dress.

Have you ever had a serious injury? Yeah some really badly infected wounds here and there.

What was the last thing you achieved? Not have one goddamn break all week.

What is something you would like to achieve at some point in your life? I can die happy once I get my own home.

Would you enjoy being famous? No. Famous in my field, sure. But life as a celebrity sounds egh.

Which country would you least like to visit? America.

Do you collect anything? Just receipts and flowers from my girlfriend. I’ve kept the very very first flower she gave me back in 2014.

What's under your bed? There are several big containers, and they have the old wrestling magazines I collected before, my dad’s car magazines, and some of my brother’s kiddie magazines as well. Apparently we love hoarding magazines?

What is something you've been meaning to get done but haven't yet? LOTS OF STUFF AND I AM GIVING MYSELF THIS TINY BREAK FOR SURVEYS OKAY I PROMISE TO WORK SOON UGH. I’ve been working constantly for three weeks now and I haven’t had a proper weekend since and I am so beat. 

Do you enjoy travelling? I love traveling, I’d drop everything to do it.

Where do you carry the things you need with you when leaving the house? In the bag that I use for school. If I’m out of school, I have this little pouch bag thing where I put my phone and wallet in.

Do you listen to entire discographies of bands or just a few songs? As much as possible I explore all their music, but if I happen to enjoy just a number of their songs that’s what I stick to.

What's the last thing you've made with your hands? A pot from clay.

On a daily basis, do you prefer to go by car or by bicycle? Why? Car. You really wanna try riding a bike through Metro Manila???

Do you know your ancestry? No but I’m sure it’s Malay like most Filipinos. Maybe a little Spanish on the side.

Which hair colour would you never want to have? Blonde.

Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? I mean we had what we called clubs back in my old school which is basically extracurricular stuff you do based on your interests, so we had Spanish club, math club, table tennis club, etc. I dunno if that counts, but those are the only ‘clubs’ I’ve ever been a part of.

What has been the most beautiful place you've visited? Sagada.

What is something that makes you sad? Bad grades.

Do you like hats? Sure, but that’s not exactly a necessity where I’m from.

What shape was the last funnily shaped cloud you saw? I don’t look at clouds all that often, and my imagination isn’t wild enough to think of shapes.

What is your most prized possession? My dog.

A famous chef is going to cook for you. Who is it and what do they cook? Gordon Ramsay plz fix up a burger for me.

[rueur]

Morning Pages No. 62

Tuesday 25th August - 10:26pm

Yeah, I know these are just becoming later and later, and I know I’m going to have to do this whole thing again in around ten to twelve hours, but I honestly just needed to take a whole day today. I feel like that’s genuinely something I needed to do. And a lot has happened today! I don’t know if I want to talk about all of it, but I suppose I do feel full and happy enough to talk about...some. I spoke to Malith? I called him when I was on my walk with Lonzo after realising that I was feeling a bit lonely. And Malith was #1 on my list of 50 people who’ve helped shape me into the person that I am today. Out of all the people I could’ve thought of first, I thought of him. And that was in my head all day today, so around 4pm I decided to finally call him. And I expressed that the reason I hadn’t been able to call him before that was because I was getting too in my own head about allocating time to call Malith. I mean we usually speak on the phone for hours at a time, with three or so hour phone calls being a totally normal and regular occurrence when we were younger, and by younger I mean like two or so years ago? It’s perfectly natural for us to waste away hours on the phone, and for our phone calls to include multiple toilet trips. Phone in hand. I felt like if I was always multitasking, then I’d have no time for a phone call. But on my walk today, I realised that I’d rather speak to him for twenty minutes a day rather than not speak to him at all for months just because I never had four spare hours at a time. Which reminds me, I also told the boy that I’d actually read ‘Fleabag’, so I have to do that right after finishing these pages. Yowza. I kind of fucked myself over here, didn’t I? The amount of crap I need to do is seemingly large almost always usually because I allow myself to have days like this, where I get absolutely nothing done. Well, actually it’s not entirely my fault. I had uni this morning, and so that meant a 9am start AT THE LATEST. I actually woke up at around 7am, closer to 7:30am but not close enough that it was an alarm that had woken me up. The sun woke me up, because it comes out earlier now. And I love that. Summer’s on its way in, but I still have a gross winter body and it’s still weirdly raining a lot, so I want to rectify the gross winter body, but it’s a little difficult in this abhorrent torrential August rain. 

I’ve just realised I haven’t had a single paragraph break for this whole page, so I’ve decided to put one right here. We learnt about ‘chunking’ in Writing & Editing for Digital Media this week, and the inverted pyramid model that’s used for writing content meant for digital platforms. I felt pretty confident in my ability to ‘chunk’ effectively, that is to construct my content in defined and digestible chunks so that it’s not just one wall of text, and our audience is more likely to both find the information they came for, and also better engage with our content in general. I’m really enjoying this class, and I’m also really enjoying ONLY TAKING ONE CLASS! After this class, I’ll only have one more left, and then the internship. Which is exciting. If I’ll ever be able to actually do an internship. COVID-19 has screwed up my hopes of finding full-time employment by February 2021, and calling my 24th year on this earth the first official year of my professional career. It seems as though there’ll still be some time before I properly enter my industry. But I am enjoying doing whatever I can with whatever is available to me right now. I mean maybe I could go on to get my PhD at unimelb. Maybe not at unimelb? But honestly where else would I go? I have no other connections to any other institutes, but one could also say that I have no connections at unimelb either. I just owe them a lot of money. And also $282, or I believe that is the amount. I don’t want to think about that bullshit right now though.

Evan just coughed in the other room. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I love him. I don’t know why, I just wanted to write that. 

Sarah posted in the 21 Days group that today’s challenge was to call up one person from our list of 50 people and just touch base with them. Funnily enough, when I read the challenge I was already on the phone to Malith. I called him after realising that if he was the first person on my list, that would mean that I’ve been thinking about him quite a bit, and took that as a sign that I should definitely call him. It felt pretty nice to have preemptively completed the challenge, without even knowing that I was PREEMPTIVELY completing the challenge?! ‘Preemptive’ is such a weird word. I misspelt it when I was typing it out in caps. The ‘p’ being between the ‘m’ and the ‘t’ threw me off completely. It just felt wrong to type those letters in that order. 

Anyway, Sarah also spoke about her friend Joshua in the post, and I didn’t know how to express my condolences. I just sent her a message. I feel my mind straying from these pages. I don’t think I want to deal with anything too complicated right now, which is why I’m skirting the issue. Sometimes, I worry that if I don’t speak about my friends and what’s going on in their lives, I’ll just repeat the same basic stuff that I seem to concern myself with for the majority of my time, or over the bulk of my day. I don’t know. I need to read ‘Fleabag’, and I’m worrying that I’m not making sense. I doubt that these pages will provide me with any insight today. I honestly just feel like I’m ticking boxes at this point, and I’m a little bit annoyed about that feeling, but I’m also accepting it as part of the pages. Oh what zen. I am a revolutionary mindful practitioner, a beautiful and empty-headed queen of calm. I don’t fucking know. It’s 10:56pm, it seems ludicrous to still refer to this as a morning pages entry. LOOK. I consider it to be a colossal win that I’m writing anything at all today.

I texted Julie and organised to visit her again next Wednesday so we can spend a bit more time looking at all the stuff I’ve done on Squarespace so far. It’s not bad, what I’ve done so far. Like it’s really not bad. I’m proud of where the site’s at, with perhaps a small exception to the colour scheme and the fonts. I have to sort that out. I’m not entirely sure how to add our own font packs to Squarespace’s site builder. I hope they allow for that? Because the font pack that they do have is INCREDIBLY limited. I’ve stopped using italics in these pages because I’ve realised that when I copy/paste the text from this morning pages doc into tumblr, tumblr gets rid of all my italicised text and just turns them into normal letters again. Lonzo just had a dream where he was running and his legs were moving, but he’s lying behind me under the blanket and so his little scratchy paws were moving up and down on my butt and it felt like the largest, weirdest, most inefficient spider bite I was ever receiving.

There are now TWO spiders on the window sill above the kitchen sink now, and the newer one is smaller but still BIG for a house spider, and it’s suspended in the centre of a web that’s been prominently constructed right above the kitchen sink and in the centre of the bottom section of the window. So basically this spider is like eye-level with me when I go to do the dishes. But the problem is, is that this smaller spider looks eerily like a crab, its legs are at weird angles, and I legitimately think it’s dead? AH. I hate this so much. I’m trying not to think about it, but goddamn it’s on my mind and now I’ve described it in great detail. That horrid spider will be in these morning pages for the rest of eternity, and someday future Rue is going to read this description and hate past Rue for it...present Rue? Rue that is Rue right now, sitting here typing against her will but also for her own good.

I’m weirdly enjoying it that whenever I answer the phone at work and an older man is the one who’s calling, they say ‘like a French street’ when I tell them my name. Haha! Sometimes I’ve responded with ‘or like searing regret’ or something along those lines. And if they appreciate wit, they tend to laugh. This one time, I told a middle-aged couple about my idea for a useless superhero (‘Superfluous’), and the dad (because he was a dad and she was a mum and they were in the shop buying a phone for their daughter, if I remember correctly) CACKLED. I have a love-hate relationship with brackets. I think they’re lazy and I would never use them in anything I write and put my name to, but I’ve always used them avidly in journal entries and personal stuff like these pages. I figure nobody’s going to judge me for having horrid grammar and some shoddy structure in something that they shouldn’t be reading anyway. 

I do enjoy writing though. Always have. No surprises there. But sometimes it is hard. It feels like a part of me that I feel I need to disconnect from myself in order to survive, and yet at the same time, it is my life. I don’t want to do anything else but this, I say that a lot. But then sometimes I am SO fearful that I’ve forgotten or I’m on the way to forgetting how to do this. It’s been literal years since I last wrote long-form fiction, and I feel like all the stuff I’ve written recently isn’t even that good. But was my stuff as a teenager any good too? Mr. D.B. Kuruppu said that it was. And I owe it to him to try harder. But I owe it to myself too. I have good ideas, or at least teenage Rue had good ideas, and those ideas deserve to be fleshed out and done justice. 

Nicky’s just crawled into my lap. He almost crawled all over my keyboard but I stopped him. He almost did it again. Now he’s licking his back leg but actually I can hear and feel his scratchy tongue trying to lick up my yellow ‘KINDNESS ONLY’ hoodie. I love this hoodie. I never thought I’d ever spend so much money on a HOODIE, but I am glad that I did. Wearing this makes me feel happy, and I know that it makes other people feel happy too, which is everything that matters. Positivity. The colour ‘yellow’ is one of the most beautiful colours in the world, but the best thing about it by far is the fact that it reminds me of my mum. That’s a beautiful sentence. I miss my family. I want to see Sandy at LEAST. Maybe I should call her tomorrow and see if she’d be keen to take the dogs out. I also have to do a bit more work on the website tomorrow, but for now I suppose I should just read ‘Fleabag’ and maybe a bit of ‘Dominicana’ if I can stomach it. And by ‘stomach it’, I mean if I can physically deal with lying on my stomach after my very modest dinner of hummus and crackers.

[livefromhouseatlantic]

Chain Breaking, Part 18

This is probably not the end of this series.

I wrote up a summary last time (which I’m actually still adding to as I review my previous posts as well as my IRL journals) partly for ease since this whole thing has gotten a little bigger than I originally envisioned (mission creep, man; it’ll get ya) and I had intended to write more - but I’m kind of tapped out. I’m emotionally and physically bankrupt, at this point. I have very little left that I feel I can give to really anyone at this point. I don’t like feeling this way, it makes me feel somewhat useless. 

Not quite as useless as I have felt in the past, mind you, but still pretty useless. I feel dejected. I’ve been badly hurt, and thus far 2019 has started with a series of (Unfortunate) events that weren’t really all that great for me. In fact - they’ve been exceedingly painful, but what can you do. (As a fun aside, I never really got into Lemony Snicket. I was too old for children’s novels at an early age, I suppose.)

I’m a bookworm. From what my parents tell me, I was reading at one and a half. I don’t really remember that, obviously. I do have memories from two and three, which surprises some people, but I’ve never really talked about them, because they’re fragmented (not in the sense that I’ve been using that word, ha, ha) and there’s not really many of them. I’m sure most people have one or two. Anyway, books have always been a source of solace for me. I can’t remember a time where I wasn’t reading. I progressed fairly rapidly - I went from comic books like Peanuts and Calvin & Hobbes (I used to like to refer to both in subtle ways just to see who picks up on it) to children’s adaptations of classic novels. I think I was eight or nine when I read Huckleberry Finn. Closely thereafter was Tom Sawyer (I read those out of order, funnily enough. Since that mistake I’ve worked very hard never to do it again with any other series), Treasure Island, The Red Badge of Courage, Jekyll and Hyde, Robinson Crusoe, and a host of others. Those are the ones I remember, because I’d re-read them, they were great. I was reading history books (ones designed for kids, simpler language, whatever) by probably nine, at the latest? I always wanted to know more about the world and how it worked. 

I was a weird kid, as a result. Not many ten year olds (or at least none that I met) could have a nuanced conversation about Henry Fleming’s bravery at the battle of Chancellorsville, for instance (that’s Red Badge), or talk about how Nero playing the fiddle while Rome burned was actually believed to be pure fabrication. Or that Napoleon was actually tall for the era that he lived in, and that we remember him as being short thanks to a very successful British propaganda campaign back in the Napoleonic Wars... there weren’t a lot of adults that could really talk about this stuff with me either. They’d always be kind of surprised. I had friends in elementary school, it wasn’t all bad, but for a very long time I felt kind of isolated. I think I wrote this before, but I often preferred the company of adults, because I could ask them questions or just discuss things with them that my peers just weren’t equipped to understand. Friends have told me in the past that the concept of being an “old soul” is a stupid one, and I’ll give you that it sounds way too New Age for my tastes (fucking hippy dippy shit) but the basic idea, yeah, I could get behind it. I’ve lived it for most of my life.

I remember a therapist I had back in 2016 who commented, after a few sessions, that I was very mature for my age. I’ve heard that for as long as I can remember, so the automatic response was “thank you, I get that I lot”.

“I did not say that was a good thing, you know”  - her response rattled me a bit, you can imagine. I was always under the impression maturity was a good thing? I’ve always been taught to be mature?

“It’s not bad that you’re mature, necessarily, it isn’t wrong - but where, I ask myself, is the 25 year old man? Your demeanour and manner of speaking, your mannerisms, all suggest a man much older, mid to late thirties at least. Where is your youth?” - fun fact, before I lost sixty pounds and kept a cleaner shave, people often mistook me for somewhere in my thirties. 

Kidding and funny stories aside, I still don’t really have an answer for that, other than that this is who I am. I don’t consider it a flaw. Maybe it’s a shame, but that’s neither here nor there. I was told years ago that when I was in grade one or something like that, my parents had a series of talks with my elementary school’s administration about putting me into a gifted program. My elementary school, for the sake of the story, was all French, and my parents did not speak the language at the time of my admission. The school wasn’t sure about it, so they administered a series of tests and I had some one-on-one time with the principle and the vice where they spoke to me to figure out if I could handle it mentally. From what I’ve come to understand, the tests were cognitive in some way - I remember doing puzzles and shit, but only barely. And by this time, I’d been in the school for a few years. The administration was in favour of advancement, but they didnb’t have a gifted program (the french school board lacks the student body as well as the funding for that where I’m from, see) so they wanted to move me up a grade or two instead. The only thing that stopped this from happening was my teacher at the time - she was of the opinion that I wouldn’t be able to handle it because of the difference in social skills. Not that I lacked them for my age, other than being shy, I’ve never really had a problem interacting with others; it’s just that I was still a first grader. First grade social skills. She was worried I would be ostracized, or bullied. That came later anyway. Irony’s a bitch. Life’ll Kill Ya. Etc, etc. 

Thinking about that actually never really upset me. It still doesn’t. I sometimes wonder how much different my life would have been - and so in a lot of ways, I’m kind of glad it didn’t happen? Some things suck, yeah. The last few months and the things I’m writing about in this series definitely suck. But there’s been a lot of highlights. To paraphrase something I said recently, I have a lot more love than I do “fuck you” in terms of my attitude in general for the world that I live in. I think of myself as a fairly bitter person, but despite saying that, I don’t really think it’s warped me all that much. When I think of “bitter people”, I think of literary characters, Ebeneezer Scrooge and shit like that. I’m not of that nature, despite my mild dislike of the holiday season. 

The downside of writing these without really planning them out and just going off of what I’m thinking at the time in an effort to be honest is that they kind of go all over the place. With that in mind, I’m going to cut this short and start another entry on a different subject. There’s a Monty Python reference for you - Now for Something Completely Different. It might be up tonight, or I might pass out on the couch. Who really knows any more.

[rueur]

Morning Pages #43 (22.03.2017)

Wednesday 22nd March - 7:43 p.m.

I know! It’s been ten days, I know. I really wish I would’ve written sooner but funnily enough I’ve been spending so long with Evan lately, I haven’t really had time to do anything aside from study and read and be with him. It’s been kind of fantastic! I stayed over at his for the first time on Tuesday night (the 14th) and then said goodbye to him on Wednesday night, went to school on Thursday and then saw him again on Thursday night. He came over and he stayed over, actually. We made plans to go to the beach, which we did on Friday afternoon. Friday night, we decided that I needed to go back to his place in Thornbury so I did, pretty much right after we were done at the beach. We had to go back to South Morang so I could get my things, because I would be back in Northcote by Sunday afternoon. So on Friday night, we had dinner with his parents and then he left for basketball, and I stayed back at his and did as much uni work as I could manage before he got back. Once he got back, we really just stayed up and talked, as we do, until we both fell asleep. We fell asleep quite late though, and ended up leaving his bedroom past noon, which was fine anyway because we had nothing planned for Saturday except a little more work on my end, and also we were going to go out that night for his friend Peaches’ nineteenth. We had pre-drinks on Evan’s balcony (a six-pack of Canadian Club and four Rekorderlig passionfruit ciders), ended up getting rather drunk and had the most refreshing conversation about the night that we met, which I will go into detail about after I finish this initial day-by-day summary. Wait, I should put this out in dot-points maybe.

+14th-15th March: I stayed over at his. We went to see Jasper Jones.

+16th-17th March: He stayed over at mine. We went to the beach. I went back to his.

+18th March: Peaches’ nineteenth celebrations, with some of his other basketball/high school friends. I wore my holey sweater out for the first time. We had pre-drinks on his balcony.

+19th March: Back to Northcote. We slept till 2 p.m., well he did. We stayed up after Peaches’ and spoke about our past relationships and about US. He was very honest with me and let me know that he wanted to be with me for a long time. He also teared up a bit at the idea of ever having to break up with me, or anybody else perhaps. He didn’t want to go through a break-up ever again. I don’t want to either, and for both our sake I hope we never do.

+20th March: I didn’t go to my journalism lecture so that we could stay up and talk. He came back that night because he was going to be hanging out with Mundell on the 21st.

+21st March: We had the bombest sex this night. He came over around a little past 9 p.m. on Monday night and we watched one episode of The Mighty Boosh before we called it a night, climbed into bed and ended up talking until past midnight. Then, past midnight, he asked me to teach him how to give me pleasure and it ended in me having what was actually one of the most drawn-out, anxious orgasms I’ve ever had, because I just wanted him to do so well and that ended up fucking it up for us. But I still came. And he was so hot, oh my god. At one point he whispered ‘come for me, baby’ in my ear and I just...honestly, I think him saying that sent me over the edge. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way he said that, the timbre of his voice, his bowed head in the blue dark. I love his hands! (I just took a massive break to sing for a bit, because I also just happened to finish my script report for Advanced Screenwriting, my first major assessment of the semester...the next being my first story for Writing Journalism, which is due this Sunday and I am yet to receive feedback). Also, on this day, Evan was really tired when he woke up so I made him some chai tea and some porridge and cut up some watermelon for him and brought him what was essentially breakfast in bed. And in the evening - after uni had finished for me - he brought me dinner from Basecamp. Because he’s a sweetheart. Then I went home, and ended up driving back to Northcote with Malith, who left at like four in the morning after we had a very lengthy conversation about his date on Sunday.

+22nd March: Present day. Evan wasn’t supposed to see me today, but he passed his driving test and was ecstatic about finally getting his probationary licence. He initially came over, however, because BRUNO FELL OUT OF THE BEDROOM WINDOW and I saw it happen out of the corner of my eye, because I was doing homework at the time. It happened around noon today, and I ran downstairs to find him sitting in between some locked bicycles with blood on his nose. I brought him back upstairs, and then called Emily a couple of times but she didn’t answer. Then my first instinct was to call Evan and so I did, and he came over within ten or so minutes after driving his mum to Northcote Plaza and then running over from the plaza. He then helped me get Bruno into his carrier and we carried him all the way to the animal hospital and got home at around 2 p.m. after the vet looked at him and said he was pretty much totally fine. After falling out of a second storey window! THIS CAT IS NEARLY FOURTEEN YEARS OLD. He has a thyroid condition and a liver condition and he’s been hit by two cars and now he’s FALLEN OUT OF A SECOND STOREY WINDOW AND HE’S STILL ALIVE. What a survivor, ey.

Anyway, Evan was amazing today. He was so present, and just so easy-going and I just love him, I love him so much. I love him so much. I cooked up some mi goreng for us and we had lunch together before he left so that I could do my work. But he turned up again, just out of the blue around half past three in the afternoon with ‘The East of Eden Letters’ a book that I told him I’d been obsessed with since Year 12. Turns out that the day we went to the Hill of Content bookshop, like two weeks ago now, he looked the book up as soon as he got home and ordered it for me and it arrived yesterday, but he didn’t have the chance to go and get it for me. So he just decided to drop by with it today. I was speechless, I just hugged him for the longest time and told him I loved him because honestly at that point, I felt like I could’ve very easily have married him on the spot. I’m going to marry this boy. The past two months have actually been magical. After my sister met him, I told her that I was going to marry this boy.

Anyway, we’re up to date now. I wanted to talk about our drunken conversation. He said that as soon as he saw me, he knew that he wanted to dance with me and that his friends did have to nudge him a little bit but because he was drunk, it was a lot easier for him to just grab my hand and dance with me. I still can’t believe I found him. I’ve been so stupidly happy these past few weeks, pretty much since he told me he loved me on the 25th of February. Yesterday was the two month anniversary of our first date: the 21st. I need to talk about the conversation we had on his balcony though. And on our way home from the city after Peaches’ shindig at this club called ‘Anyway’ which was actually 100% inferior to Laundry. The music sucked ass, honestly, and there was no dancing room at all, it was far too packed.

We were talking about the night that we met, anyway, and he told me that he thinks he fell in love the second I rested my head on his shoulder when we were sitting side by side in the smoking room, after dancing for four or so hours. He said we were blessed too, that our first moments with each other were that of ‘pure joy’ because we were just dancing and feeling free and everything felt so easy for that reason. I feel like everything continues to feel so easy for that reason: we’re in perfect harmony. We always have been, and hopefully we always will be. I have faith that we always will be. Evan loves me so deeply and so honestly; he loves me in a way that I need and in a way that I always knew I’d be able to find, despite my impatience. But I’m so glad that I met him when I did, and he agrees. Because we met at the PERFECT time. We met exactly when we’d done just enough growing to be able to find each other, and now we can continue to grow together. He makes me feel like the only thing that matters in the world, I mean the way he speaks to me and speaks of me; the way he goes out of his way to be there for me, or to make sure that I’m okay. Sleeping next to him is a thrill in itself, and speaking to him - getting to know more and more about him, sharing ourselves with each other, it’s all been like a dream. We want to go camping soon, and we went for a drive today after he dropped off the book for me. And I gave him ‘How Green Was My Valley’ and ‘Skippy Dies’ for his dad Brian (Barney) to read, because he asked me for recommendations. I naturally recommended two of my favourite books of all time, and he gave me a book in turn titled ‘The Member of the Wedding’, which is rather short but I’m still having a bit of a hard time getting through it because I only just started ‘Treasure Island’ too and I was really keen to read that so ‘The Member of the Wedding’ has been like a spanner in the works for me. I’ve been using that phrase a lot lately. Anyway, I feel like I have a lot more to say about Evan but my mind isn’t willing to write that all out right now, and I’m just aiming to power through this last bit of the third page because it’s nearing ten o’clock and I wanted to be asleep by half past nine, because I have a class at nine o’clock in the morning tomorrow: Writing Journalism. I’m not prepared for it. I mean I am technically prepared for it, because my story is all done. But we were supposed to print out five copies of it or some ridiculous number like that, for the tutorials this week, and I can’t do that because I’m in Northcote, so I’m just going to make up an excuse and save some paper because honestly I do not really care about that class. I don’t like it already, and I know that I probably won’t go into journalism on a long term basis, maybe freelance but it won’t be my major profession.

It’s 10:17 p.m., I just got a bit distracted talking to my mum and also thinking about Evan. When Malith was over last night, I was telling him about this article I read a couple of days ago that was talking about what happens during the honeymoon stage of relationships. Your brain essentially gets bathed in dopamine and becomes useless, it’s like love is a drug and you slowly build up a tolerance to it, but the initial dose is so strong that it inspires dementia-like symptoms: inattention to detail, lack of focus, and impairments. I am really feeling that now, like I just keep thinking about Evan. To be fair, this is hardest and fastest I’ve ever fallen in love. This has hit me so hard, and I feel like it’s the same for him. No, it’s definitely the same for him. And it’s fine when I’m with him, in fact when I’m with him everything is good. Everything is amazing. But he’s not here right now and I miss him. I just want him to be here, lying next to me in the dark, so that when I open my eyes I can see him seeing me the way that he does. I feel so loved right now, I really do. He’s been making me feel so fucking loved. I hope I’ve done the same in whatever way I can, but honestly he’s amazing, I don’t know how I can compare. He’s so...perfect. Fuck.

[rueur]

Morning Pages #42 (12.03.2017)

Sunday 12th March - 10:54 p.m.

I moved back home after a little over a week in Northcote (from Friday the 3rd till now). And funnily enough, I spent most of this last week with Evan. I’m not even exaggerating when I say the only time I wasn’t with him was when I was with other people, or when I was at uni really. I saw him on Saturday the 4th in the afternoon. He came over, and we had sex for the first time. I think I wrote about that, but I can’t be entirely sure. This past week has just become a collection of really blissful memories, and precious conversations. We went to a party on Saturday night, yes I definitely wrote about this. Then I stayed over at his on Saturday night because of the spider. And then on Sunday morning I left, I went to see Jerica at Greensborough and then was right with Evan again from 3 p.m. onwards. That was also the day he went into the city and bought his portable speaker, a JBL Charge 3. We spent the rest of Sunday listening to each other’s music. He got into Acid Rap, which I was ecstatic about when he told me what he thought about it on Tuesday night when he came over again. He stayed Sunday night too, but left Monday morning before I left for uni. His friend Daniel wanted his help, bouncing ideas off of him and a bunch of his other friends. Daniel is a businessman, rather idealistic but well-intentioned, and perhaps even a revolutionary, from what Evan has told me. Tuesday night and Wednesday he was back here again. He left Wednesday afternoon, but late. He was back Thursday evening, and then left again Friday afternoon. He came back Friday night, around 11. I spent Friday evening with Rachael, but Friday morning Evan and I were in the city and we had a bit of a shopping day. Saturday was, however, a very lazy day. A truly lazy day for the both of us. Although we did do a bit of writing - I wrote a poem, about him...about us, actually - and we did leave the house at one point but only to get some dinner after realising that we actually wouldn’t have enough food for the day because we had ammi’s rice (that she packed me on Wednesday night because I went home on Wednesday night) for breakfast, for a nice change from porridge. Not that I was the one who needed a change from porridge, because the bag of oats I’d brought to Emily’s was pretty much used by me to replace a lot of meals. I didn’t eat super well, I mean when I was on my own. When I was with Evan, and Rachael and Jeri, I ate quite well. I was afraid that I ate almost too well, but I weighed myself today and I’m a little under 52 kilos. Which is where I’ve been for a while, so I’m happy with that. I went to the gym today too, after 11 days of having not gone. I realised this upon checking my session sheet. The only downside to living in Northcote is the fact that I tend not to work out during my stay. But I guess it doesn’t matter too much anyway because I don’t really eat during my time there, well not as much as I would at home. And uni also naturally takes a lot out of me, all the walking and thinking. I’ll be riding my bike to the station tomorrow morning for the first time in a while and I keep thinking about that. I wonder if my legs will be okay, I don’t know. Of course they will be, like I don’t doubt that at all. I guess I’m just making myself fret for no real reason.

I had a dream last night that really messed with me. It was bad enough that it made me wake up feeling totally anxious, but Evan was there too and so I felt rude and odd on top of already feeling anxious. But it’s hard not to feel good around him generally. And I felt a lot better after I just told him about the dream. What I remember started with him abandoning my on a train, well I say ‘abandon’ but I guess what actually happened was that he was being kind of short with me on a train and then one second he was there and the next he’d just disappeared. But because he was being short with me, I interpreted his disappearance as an abandonment. Anyway, I told him that and he immediately put on a funny voice and said ‘Dream Evan is sorry’ and I grinned and all was right once more. But the bulk of the dream was academic stress: another dream where I’m enrolled in a class I had no idea I was enrolled in and halfway through the semester I realise I’ve totally failed to attend any classes and hand in any assignments. Uni tends to mess with me as well. But I’m taking comfort in the fact that this is going to be my last full semester, because with my intensive over the winter break, semester two will only have three subjects. I can’t wait to see what that timetable will look like. I might even get three days off out of the week rather than just two. We shall see, we shall see.

I had a glass of wine tonight, just to write out the scene I needed to write out for Advanced Screenwriting tomorrow. Tomorrow is Labour Day but it’s famously not a university holiday, so I’ll be back at Parkville at noon for my Journalism lecture and I’ll be there till 5:45 p.m., lord. I just took a bit of a break to check the LMS and see what weekly tasks I have left to do for this upcoming week (week 3). I need to do the reflections for both Environmental Politics and Management, and Sustainable Development. That’s it, I think. Oh, I need to submit my first draft for my first article for Writing Journalism. And I still feel like I should do my Week 5 tutorial paper for Advanced Screenwriting (on Sound and Radio drama) ahead of time, just to be safe. Because I’ll be travelling to and from Northcote for most of this semester too, in fact Emily’s just called me back for next weekend. From the 19th to the 26th, or thereabouts. That might be nice, because Evan is seeing Adele on Sunday, I think. He’s been playing Adele incessantly for the past few days. It’s been kind of nice, but honestly I liked it a lot more when he played J. Cole and some Chance, upbeat stuff I guess. And stuff that I knew, too. He’s gotten into Chance.

I feel like the wine was supposed to focus me, because I’ve heard that a glass of red wine before or during some writing can really help clear your head and get your best ideas out. But I didn’t have a glass, I had a mug. And I fear that I might’ve had too much. I’m not drunk, but my head does feel a little heavier than usual. It’s nearly midnight too, and I feel like I should go to bed soon. I haven’t finished my wine yet though. Nor have I finished today’s pages, even though it’s under a quarter of an hour away from being Monday morning. It’s thirteen minutes away from being Monday morning, and I just got a new toothbrush from my mum. I asked her for one a couple of minutes ago. I threw my old one out before I moved out of the Northcote apartment, because I recently realised that I’d been using that toothbrush a full year now. I had it when I was living at Rachael’s so it’s actually been a full year. Ikaros’ pink toothbrush is still in my room. I feel like I should throw it out but I also feel like I should return it to him, because he liked it. He probably wouldn’t want it though, because of the memories? I don’t know. I want my books back from him too. He has Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter & the Chamber of Secrets, and my Sherlock Holmes book too.

He went clubbing with Cameron this weekend. One Puf. I haven’t been there, but it’s Cameron’s kind of scene and I feel like it wouldn’t have been Ikaros’ kind of scene. Although Laundry wouldn’t have been Ikaros’ scene either and I was going to take him there before we called it quits. I’m sorry, I’m feeling really restless right now. My heart isn’t in these pages anymore. I think it was when I started writing, because I was writing about Evan and I. Maybe it’s no longer in it now because I started talking about Ikaros. Maybe I should stop talking about Ikaros then, and just let myself be happy in the now. I am quite happy in the now. Sometimes I think about what the future might be like with Evan, rather than with Ikaros. Because it’s been Ikaros in my head for the past two or so years, and the ideas we had for each other are hard to shirk. It is however, rendered easier by all the times I can recall where he started talking about HIS future and excluded me from his hypothetical fantasy entirely. He did a lot of things that hurt me, and made me insecure. He didn’t make me truly happy. He didn’t treat me like I meant all that much to him. Evan, on the other hand, essentially spent a solid week straight with me and is keen to do it again. He invited me over to his on Tuesday night, to stay over. He wants to cook for me Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, because I made all the meals whilst we were living in Northcote. He said he felt bad about that, but honestly I really liked cooking for him, and he did help a little bit. Ikaros tended to take the reigns with everything: with cooking, with plans, with sex. Evan likes me on top, which is also really working for me, like quite a lot. He likes to look at me, I think. He’s not at all dominant, he’s more an equalist when it comes to sex. He’s more interested in sharing that physical intimacy with me rather than dominating me, and it feels amazing. I feel so inelegant just saying ‘it feels amazing’ but it does. It’s intense. It actually feels so much more intense - and I feel so much more present because of that - because I feel like it’s just him and me in the moment, holding each other, feeling each other. I can’t help myself, I run my hands up and down him and tighten the grip that my legs have round his torso. He’ll pull me to him and he’ll look at me, like he won’t take his eyes away from mine and just the focus that he gives me alone is enough to send shivers through me. We work really well together, and in all the ways that I hoped we would too. Sometimes I still can’t believe that this is the same boy I danced with exactly two months ago now! It’s Monday the 13th now and I met him on Friday the 13th. That first night, I still remember it so well. He was so cute. And of course I was already feeling his arms through his cardigan, goodness. I still remember that. I still remember dancing with him and feeling so so happy, so alive. I just want to go back and read what I wrote about that night right now. I remember thinking at that time, when he danced over to me, that he was really playful and sweet. He’s proven me right about that over these past few months. And over this last week, he’s just gotten so much more cute and goofy with me. I just miss him so much right now, I want to just call him and fall asleep to the sound of his voice in my ear. But I will make do with Jasper Jones, and take comfort in the hopes that he’s reading Of Mice and Men right now and thinking of me, hoping that I’m reading Jasper Jones. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. I really don’t think I would be. We’ve been so in sync so often now (and in such a small timespan too) that the coincidences are no longer surprising to me, more just lovely and welcome: further proof that this is cosmic. This is meant to be.

[rueur]

Morning Pages #20 (26.01.2017)

Thursday 26th Jan - 9:30 a.m.

Happy Invasion Day! It’s interesting to see which of my white-Australian friends refer to today as ‘Australia Day’ and which refer to it as it’s perhaps rightful term. I am a little ashamed though, I have to admit, because the City of Whittlesea has the most fantastic fireworks show every Australia Day, and my family have always attended it. Actually, I haven’t attended it for the past two or three years now, because this time last year I was camping in Robinvale with Ikaros, and the year before that I was in Sri Lanka. And the year before that I was in high school, starting year twelve and I was depressed as all hell and rarely left the house. If I were to go this year, it would be the end of that streak, but I would also be rewarded by a superb fireworks display. Ah, I think I might boycott the display today.

Marcus is also hosting Inkblot’s Housewarming for the opening of their new creative space in Coburg. That starts at 2 p.m., and I honestly don’t know if I’ll go yet. I think I might, but it’s 9:34 a.m. now and I am yet to wash, brush, eat, or clean the apartment or anything. And considering that this is my last day off before my show runs, I desperately need today to get Emily’s place in order for her before she gets back. It’s honestly all looking a pretty decent shape right now, really. I just need to vac again, clean the litter boxes, maybe scrub down the bathtub and remove all my drain hair. Maybe mop the kitchen a little. And I should strip the bed down and put my towel and my used sheets in a hamper for her. I just don’t think I’ll have time to wash them on my own, I hope she doesn’t mind. To make up for that, I think I might buy her a bottle of wine and those affogato ice creams I saw in the freezer when I moved in. Okay, there was one affogato ice cream and I ate it! Because there was only one! Actually, just the wine should be fine, right?

I was supposed to go out last night too. See, I started this year saying that I would seize all opportunities, but this week alone I didn’t go to the writer’s meetup in Brunswick, dinner with my family and Hashini akka’s family in the city, and now I might even bail on Marcus. To be honest with you, I think I might still be a little shaken from the sexual assault. It was nearly two weeks ago now, but I don’t know, I’m still sick and I’ve been exhausted lately. And my period is still late. That’s another thing I need to tell you about: yesterday I did my first ever home pregnancy test. I called Ikaros up a little after five, after my rehearsal, and told him I felt weird all of yesterday and that I think it would be best to do a pregnancy test. He agreed, and said he would be right over. I met him at Northcote station at 6:30 p.m. on the dot (he had just come back from the gym so he wanted to shower and stuff first, which is understandable because he works out very hard), and then we went to Chemist’s Warehouse and bought two different tests. We ran back to the apartment (briskly walked) because I really needed to pee (in preparation for the tests), and I immediately sat on the toilet and held that little stick midstream. We then waited for three minutes, talking about the possibility of us potentially having kids someday.

A couple of months back, we agreed that despite not liking the idea of procreating in general, the idea of procreating with EACH OTHER was somewhat more desirable. We thought the combination of our genes would be ace. And we still do. We made up this fictional future where I end up marrying a gay Spanish poet named Carlos for my parents’ sake, and then end up living with Carlos and Ikaros and some other people. Carlos never screws me and I spend all my sexual energy on Ikaros and end up carrying his babies, and we pass the babies off as Carlos’ babies to my parents. THAT IS until one of the little things comes out with a head full of ginger hair (Ikaros hopes), and gives Ikaros away as the real baby daddy. And my parents just grow to accept that I love him. I don’t know, he might be my real love. He might not be. But I’m open to whatever the universe has in store for me, and for us. And for Carlos.

I took another pregnancy test this morning, at around 6:30 a.m., and that one also came back negative like the first one. They both came back negative right away, really. The rectangle had a purple line through it, but the circle had no pink line. Verdict: not pregnant.

It was an interesting experience, though. The anxiety I felt the hours before was almost debilitating. I realised my fears during the tech run we had yesterday afternoon. It was four hours long and I had to pee twice and I thought that was odd. Then I spent most of my time backstage, which was very dusty and cold and triggered a few coughing fits in me. Then I started to feel light-headed and dizzy, very scarily out of it, and that’s when I started looking back on all my weird symptoms these past two weeks, and realised that I was very afraid. The way home from the chemist, I was telling Ikaros that I wasn’t ready to have an abortion. It’s not like I’m ready to have a baby either, but funnily enough, I felt more terrified at the prospect of getting an abortion than I was about getting pregnant. I think it’s because once you see a positive test at my age, your only responsible next step IS an abortion, and preparation for that procedure becomes your reality. Thankfully, it did not become my reality yesterday.

It’s 9:56 a.m.. I took a little break from writing to clean my ears out. They tend to get blocked up during a cold, and during humidity, and because it’s summer and I’m sick they have been rather blocked up lately. At least I’m not making it worse by listening to music, because my earphones were totalled on Tuesday! But I will say that I’ve been speeding through these pages lately, like the first couple of weeks it took me a good hour or so to get all three pages down, and here I am now at the bottom of page two in just a half hour. I think I know why too.

Despite the fact that I both love and miss him immensely right now, I think breaking up with Ikaros was the best thing for both of us. I think it’s actually even opened me up a little more, creatively speaking. I said this before, but before the break up I had to write hard truths about him and it was tricky to put myself in that kind of state of mind first thing every morning, because I hadn’t been honest with him. And what good is it being honest with myself about some other person, when I’m not addressing that other person and thus that honesty travels nowhere? These next couple of months are going to be difficult, I recognise that now. In fact, I recognised that in late October of last year. But I have to bear in mind, that it could’ve been a lot more difficult. We are essentially taking the healthiest steps we can take here. We are being incredibly smart about this breakup, to the point that it only feels like a breakup because we’ve called it that. If anything, it feels less like a breakup and more like making a new lifelong friend. We’re going to Gong De Lin on Sunday, and he also said he wanted to go and see the new M. Night Shyamalan film, ‘Split’. I’m a little iffy about Split, to be honest with you, because it seems to trivialise a real mental illness (multiple personality disorder) and then demonises it, turns it into a malevolent disease. Ikaros said he’d pay though.

I need a job! I am going to keep looking the SECOND I’m back in Mill Park. I’m going to print out a whole bunch of resumes on Sunday or Monday morning, head into the city and walk up and down Faraday Street as I’ve been meaning to do. If I can get a hospitality gig that close to uni, it would honestly make my year already. And I’m graduating this year! OH SHIT ANOTHER THING. I totally forgot to mention this and I find it ludicrous (great rapper) that I did, because it was such a big deal for me when I read about it on Tuesday.

I checked my student email after months of inactivity, because we’re getting closer to the start of the semester and I wanted to be at least a little bit on top of my timetabling. I received an email from the head of The University of Melbourne’s School of Geography, encouraging me to do my honours or my masters within the school! THEY WANT ME. I can most definitely do my masters in Environments or even Environmental Science if I want! I DON’T HAVE TO DO JOURNALISM! I CAN DO SOMETHING WORTHWHILE. This is what I’ve been hoping for for the past two years now. Of course, I still think I should head in to Stop 1 at some point and talk to a student advisor about my options. I have a 72 GPA, so...wait, is it called GPA here? I’ve logged onto my.unimelb, and have just found out that class registration for third years is on the 31st of January at 10 a.m.. Should I write my morning pages before or after this? Probably after, right? Okay, sorted. I’m just checking my results page now, to see exactly what my ‘GPA’ is. It’s loading, it always takes ages. Anyway, as long as I do fairly well in all my subjects this year and not fail anything, I’ll most definitely be eligible for honours in the School of Geography. Considering a good portion of my subjects this year are also taught by the School of Geography, this is certainly looking to be an entirely open avenue for me to follow. Actually, maybe I should take MORE geography subjects this year, just to put myself in an even more favourable position as an honours candidate. I know I have at least two, and they’re both in first semester. And maybe one in second. I could drop ancient greek and take up another geography class. We’ll see when this page loads!