#i used to be able to scarf down an entire pizza all by myself which isn’t a good thing either but definitely on the other end of the spectr

[mabelsguidetolife]

I need to try to eat larger portions (and more frequently) but when i try to i feel nauseous afterwards……

[just-a-tired-fangirl]

Alright ya’ll buckle up, because I think me and my sister just solved Sanders Sides.

The idea stemmed from a comment that one of my sister’s friends made regarding her deceit christmas sweater. This friend had never seen the show before and after my sister explained the concept of the show to her, she asked if the side on her sweater was envy. My sister obviously corrected her and said that the side was Deceit, but she thought it was super strange how that was the first thing the friend came up with. Apparently it was the two headed snake that led her to pick envy.

So this made us think that if Deceit could also represent envy, then maybe the other sides could also encompass one of the seven deadly sins. The sin is not their main function, but each side has a sin that they are in control of. This theory also solidifies the orange side theory as there are seven deadly sins, and with six sides, that would mean we only have one sin left. It’s also fair to mention that the show itself goes out of its way to talk about the seven deadly sins in DWIT, and the show rarely does things without a purpose. So here’s our big, seven deadly sins theory on the show.

💛Deceit and envy:

Envy is defined as a sad or resentful covetousness towards the traits or possessions of someone else. Basically jealously towards what someone has that you do not. Interestingly enough, we’ve already seen Deceit display envy on multiple occasions. Throughout SvsS Deceit is baffled that Thomas is allowing his friends to be happy and have their special day, while letting himself suffer. Deceit feels envious of Thomas’ friends and the joy that they’ll be having on their wedding day. Not only this but, Deceit has also been established as containing a lot of Thomas’ selfish desires, and it goes without saying that envy is a faily selfish sin.

There are also many places where it can be assumed that Deceit feels envy. He is envious towards the light sides and how easily thomas accepts them. He is envious of Patton, not only because of how much Thomas loves him, but how much more Virgil loves him that he loved Deceit. He could also be envious of Virgil for leaving the dark sides and getting what Deceit wants most, acceptance from Thomas. I believe that Deceits arc is where his envy will truly shine.

❤️Roman and greed:

Roman’s connection to his sin is fairly interesting as he, out of all the sides, does the best job ignoring it. Roman is clearly greedy and wants what he desires, but he seems to push away the greed in order to appease not only Thomas, but also Patton. Roman could have easily been greedy and pushed Thomas to go to the callback in SvsS, but he didnt, instead hiding his deepest desires. While doing this obviously made patton feel a lot happier, it also leaves open a door for Roman’s much anticipated arc.

Unfortunatly for Roman, a lot of his desires are impossible to accheive. He is creativity and imagination after all, so he could really want something that is simply too unrealistic to have. For example, in Dealing with a Breakup, Roman clearly wants to get back together with Thomas’ ex, but everyone knows that something like that is unrealistic. In almost every case that Roman shows greed, he pushes it down and ignores it. All of this build up is leading to an arc where he deals with his greedy thoughts and possibly learns that sometimes, its okay to be greedy.

💚Remus and lust:

Honestly, I don’t really feel like I have to explain this one. So far Remus has been the only side to show any sexual character traits, so he would clearly also carry the sin of lust with him.

💜Virgil and sloth:

This one I’m super excited about because it makes a ton of sense. Anyone with anxiety would know that it keeps you from doing a lot of things that you really want to do. Have a social event to go to? Nope. How about we stay home instead and watch youtube. I’m sure a lot of you can relate. This same interaction is literally the entire basis of the newest Asides episode. Virgil is anxious about going to the party with the friend they fought with, so Thomas stays home and sits on the couch watching movies the whole night. Logan even goes as far as mentioning something along the lines of “Do you know how many times we worry about a decision over and over again until its too late for Thomas to change his mind?” Practically calling virgil out.

Apart from this, its also fair to mention that Virgil talks constantly about how he’s lazy and doesn’t like to work hard.

💙Patton and gluttony:

All right Patton time! So, out of all the sins, Patton clearly represents gluttony. One of the only sides to mention food (except for obviously logan and Crofters) is Patton. Whether is pizza or cookies, Patton clearly loves food. He encourages Thomas to eat whatever he wants because he believes that Thomas deserves it. That’s ones obvious with the whole “second cookie” line and also the “when your an adult, you can eat whatever you want!” line.

Even Patton’s gift for Roman in the christmas episode is food! A container of spaghetti. Not to mention that pattons christmas scarf also has milk and cookies and it. Basically patton is just surrounded by food imagery and its hard to see him having any other sin.

🖤Logan and Pride:

Logan is another side where his sin is leading him up to his arc. While a lot of people assume that Roman is pride, I think it makes much more sense as Logan and here’s why. Having pride in your work and the things that you create is almost never a bad thing. You should be proud of those things. But being too proud of yourself and your capabilities can get a bit dangerous. Logan has shown time and time again that he believes he’s the smartest and most important of Thomas’ sides. Saying things like “I’m the most important side here” or “I know I’m smarter than everyone else” or “I can usually solve problems on my own”. All of these show that Logan had a huge ego and a whole lot of pride.

Not only this, but Thomas recently built up this pride by complimenting Logan at the end of DWIT. Something that logan immediately let get to his head in the Asides episode. We all remember “Just your cool teacher being his cool self”. Logan’s whole character is built apon maintaining his pride and his image. He refuses to admit that he has feeling or show any weakness and he is too prideful in himself. This is where Logan’s arc is eventually going to take him.

🧡Orange and Wrath:

So that of course leaves us with one sin, wrath. I think that a lot of fans have speculated that wrath would be the next side, but with this theory, wrath would simply be one part of the sides personality. In each of the other sides, their sin is a small part of a whole. So with this logic, the next side would not be entirely wrathful, but would sometimes exhibit wrathful behavior or desires. Me and my sister, unfortunately couldn’t come up with one set-in-stone name for this character, but we were able to determine a lot of his charcteristics based on the context of the show.

Each dark side has been hinted at or forshadowed before he was revealed. For Deceit, thomas says something along the lines of “Lying is wrong, and thats a side of myself I would rather not feed into”. Remus has quite a few forshadowings. At one point, Roman says “and hopefully not thoughts of your naked aunt patty!” Which him and thomas then proceeds to be disturbed by. Remus is also forshadowed when Logan brings up being beheaded on A roller coaster. He’s even forshadowed right before he’s revealed in DWIT when Roman says “fishier than the crackens crack” and Patton reacts a little disgusted.

So we looked for instances where orange could have possibly been forshadowed and we found two moments in particular. The one obvious example is when Logan throws the balled up paper at Romans eye in LNTAO. The way in which the scene is filmed and logans remark “I don’t know where that came from” make this scene out to be very important. Not only this, but logans remark is the exact same one that Roman makes after the aunt patty naked quote. So this would then go to show that the next side contains a lot of frustration and build up anger and rage.

Another example of forshadowing is in the aSides episode. Virgil explains the encounter that Thomas had with his friend. Clearly Thomas was very angry and upset with this friend for his past homophobic views. He lashed out in a way that couldnt be encompassed by any of the sides other than orange. We’ve never seen one of the other sides angry like this before (except for the forshadowing with logan) so it has to be the last side. Thomas even responds to his friends “your behavior is unacceptable” with the snarky remark “oh yeah, like me being with a man is unacceptable?” Which is so out of character for any of the current sides to say. It’s also very curious to note that virgil is extremely anxious about the encounter. Virgil has shown in the past that his reactions to the dark sides are very intense, and I would feel comfortable saying that this is the most intense anxious reaction we’ve seen from virgil as of yet. With all that said, this encounter shows orange’s ability to hold a grudge and resentment or hatred for another person. While this doesnt show him being wrathful, or seeking vengence, it’s fairly easy to see how such hatred and grudginess could lead to him seeking revenge in the future.

Okay, wow! That took a really long time to write out... Please let me know your thoughts in the comments, or if you have anything else to add to the theory! I really appreciate if you made it through that whole thing, because I know I probably rambled quite a bit.

[melon-kiss]

Screaming, Pt 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Link to the part on AO3

____________________________

I hear voices over the black fog of my unconsciousness but I can’t be sure they’re real. I think it’s the doctors. They try to revive me. I hear that I have a stable pulse and I breathe. Good. Or whatever.

When I open my eyes, I’m sweaty and frightened. My T-shirt is so wet it changed its colour to dark grey. My hair is sticking to my face. My eyeballs go from one side to another in an utter madness. I notice it’s already dark outside. Doctor Mike lights up a small lamp on my nightstand. I think he suspects me of being scared of darkness. I’ve never been. Now he’s right. He says comforting things, like: “You’re safe now” or “I can see you’ve been tortured”. But “torture” doesn’t even cover it. I’ve been through a vivisection. Sherlock gutted me out and now I  know for sure he did it on purpose.

I fight insomnia for very long hours. When I manage to fall asleep, I hardly find any rest in it.

I toss and turn endlessly. It never gets better. The bed sheet is too hot or too cold. The dreams I have are horrifying. All the memories I’ve kept safely tamed resurface and haunt me. Suffocate me with their weight. They’re my burden now.

They burn me out. They wreak havoc. I feel every cell in my body ache as I remember the pain of all the words unsaid, all the moments not lived. I see the bright blue eyes, always looking through. I hear the voice. It lies to me. Does it, though? It says: I... I love you. And again, quieter: I love you. It hurts because I’m sure it’s insincere. It couldn’t be any other way. He’ll never love me like I want to be loved. He can’t give me safety and protection. He can’t support me. He can’t be with me. He can’t be with me. He can’t be with me.

I scream. The hot air rips my lungs into shreds. My voice is hoarse and piercing at the same time, it echoes in the entire building. I scream as though being cut in two; a primal shriek finds its way out of me. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane - otherwise the pain would be unbearable. I want to be dead. I scream so loud the night staff comes to my room every fifteen minutes to wake me and assure me I’m safe but it doesn’t take long for the circle to go around again. They finally give up and inject something into my arm. The dangerous mix of fear and pain is numb now. It doesn’t vanish; it’s covered with a warm fluff of the meds. It’s there. He’ll never love me the way I want to be loved.

My eyes are stuck on one point on the ceiling. I want to scream but I can’t.

 * * *

 The cold late-autumn air lashes my face when I place my foot outside the door. I wrap the scarf tighter around my neck. It’s difficult to keep yourself warm when there’s not much of the fat tissue in your body.

My therapist says it’ll get better. I don’t know. I don’t think he tries to lie to me. I choose to believe him. He also says that I’ll never fully recover. My psyche is broken beyond repair. LSD killed me and didn’t do it at all. All I can do is to try to make the best of it. “Regaining your memory was the most important part,” he said once. “And you’ve succeeded in it.” I think he hopes that there’s a chance for me to get back to my old self in that. I’ve lived with my missing memories for over six months and today is the first day I feel good enough to leave the house. I’m going to face death. Many deaths.

I walk down the London streets and the air soaks up in my lungs. It’s cold but in a pleasant way. The hot air gets out of me with carbon dioxide. I breathe in the chill oxygenium with my eyes closed. I relish the moment. I never know when my brain will snap and turn everything into endless sadness. I don’t have fury attacks anymore but instead, I wake up in the middle of every night, screaming. The scream eventually turns into cry. I curl up in my bed and wait for the pain to let go. It never really does but its level decreases to the point I’m able to live with.

Being yourself. What does it even mean? Whatever I do, I’m me. I’m me when I walk down the London streets, heading to work. I’m me when I jump out of my bed and choke someone. I’m me when I throw up because my body cannot contain the anxiety caused by my fugue. I’m me when I scream my head off in the middle of a night. I’m me when I kiss someone I love. I’m me when I cry because I couldn’t be more broken. I’ve learned to simply accept whatever comes to me. This is who I am. A mess. Fixing me is a job for a lifetime.

I’ve been missing the lab. I throw myself into work because it helps me soothe the suffering. The relief is temporary but whatever works, right? I love the sound of the glasses clinking against each other. I love how my brain focuses entirely on bringing out my scientific knowledge and it almost resembles the mind I used to have. These are the moments when I know the old Molly Hooper is still there. She didn’t die because she always wins.

 It’s almost dark outside when I turn off the lights. I take a short look around to make sure I’ve cleaned everything up. I push the door open and fix the handbag on my shoulder. I walk out into the corridor, pale-y lightened with the cold hospital lamps. I raise my head up and freeze.

He freezes as well. He’s changed; weaker, sadder. His blue eyes widen and I can see his breathing stops. His mouth are open in an utter shock. He’s speechless but doesn’t look away. He swallows with difficulty.

“Molly.”

The soft whisper fills out the space of the corridor. I begin to get dizzy and my heart rate quickens rapidly. I take a small step back and cling to the door behind me. I’m close to hyperventilate. He makes a move towards me but I start visibly shivering in response.

“Molly...”

He’s filled with guilt which adds a fair weight to his movements. His eyes, usually cold and focused on looking through his mind palace, are mild, even glossy. His eyebrows frown in worry. I’m sure he pities me. I don’t need his pity. I slide down the door and sit on the floor with my legs pulled to my chest. I see his coat getting closer with a corner of my eye. My body trembles strongly. I let out the tears.

“Leave me alone,” I whisper.

He stands in place for a while and walks off eventually. When he’s no longer in the range of my eyesight, I curl up on the floor and cry. He can’t be with me.

 * * *

 I’m slightly cheerful on my days off. The winter is pretty ugly this year; it doesn’t look like the ones I remember. No fluffy snow and colourful lights. But maybe I’ve just gotten too old to see them? I think it’s sad. We become adults and forget all the beauty we’ve had as children. We forget that the key to happiness is not only in winning the jackpot but also in seeing the little things and enjoying them. In finding a four-leaf clover and thinking: “Today I’m going to be lucky”. In hearing your mum is going to make your favourite biscuits because she loves you so much she could do anything to see a smile on your face. I sound like The Little Prince, don’t I? When your brain tries to find its way back to sanity, you happen to have a lot thoughts. Trust me.

I deliberately step into every grey, muddy-snowy-watery puddle and smile. My shoes will get soaked up for a while but I enjoy this childish activity until I can. I just hope my groceries won’t slip out of my shopping bag to fall into one of these snowy monsters. I think about the small but pleasant stuff: like ordering a pizza and watching a film. My brain loves turning into tapioca. Well, it doesn’t, I do. I also bought brownies and can’t wait to stuff my stomach with them after the pizza box is empty. For a moment I think of the poor person who would have to go through my stomach content if I killed myself tonight, and then shake it off. I don’t want to die but I don’t have much of a will to live as well. I’ve learned not to joke about suicide around other people, though. It turns out death is a difficult matter for normal human beings. I wouldn’t know, I’ve always been very practical about it. It doesn’t scare me that much. Well, maybe a little because I’ve never been through this. They say I have but I don’t remember a shred from this moment. I’ve regained a memory of being strongly hit in a head in my house but then... it’s all darkness. The next thing was the hospital ceiling and the conversation The Three Horsemen of Madness had in my room.

I’ve loved watching trash telly (and not only this) because it keeps my sadness and insanity at bay. I’m well aware of that. My therapist didn’t have to tell me this but he did it anyway. He even asked if I wanted to do anything about it. I didn’t but he says (because the matter obviously wasn’t dropped) it would work out for the best because a broken heart cannot be mended by watching stories about other hearts being healed. I thought he was supposed to help me keep my post-LSD psyche under control but it seems I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I look back at the memories I’ve retrieved, I can’t help but think... maybe this craziness has always been with me? The way I sewed my happiness with his skin, desperately, utterly, unconditionally, obsessively... Omnipresent but invisible. Courageous - with a rabbit heart. The smallest spark of hope I’ve ever seen kept me by his side. Maybe LSD only sped up what was inevitable: a nervous breakdown. Although I wasn’t really weak. My heart just popped, heavy from all the sorrow it has carried for five years.

Now, after being completely broken, I’m learning to live in a world without him. I don’t blame him - after all, it was me who asked him to leave me alone. I thought he would fight for me but I’m glad he didn’t. My insanity would feed on the scraps he would throw me, reliving the annealed wounds with a red-hot steel. He doesn’t come to Bart’s or maybe he does but he’s good at avoiding people. And sometimes, when everything seems fine and I’m home alone (which is always), I fill out the silence with singing. I choose the saddest songs I know and sing. I bet my neighbours have had to call an ambulance to save their bleeding ears at least once but I’m a psycho. I can do whatever I want because I don’t care.

I’ve recently watched Eclipse and I sing a song from its soundtrack under my nose when I unlock the door. The door clicks and I enter my completely dark house. I don’t turn on the lights and enjoy the fact that it’s already dim outside but it’s too early for the street lights to turn on and shine into my kitchen. I stand in the entrance room and soak in the emptiness. It fills me out and seeps into my bones. This is where my body find its way to the state of default. I put my shopping bag away on the floor and untangle my winter shoes. After that I move the groceries into the kitchen, almost tiptoeing, as though afraid of waking someone up.

I take off my coat and scarf, putting them down on the kitchen counter. I start unloading my shopping bag, thinking about the pizza I’m going to order. I’ve gained some weight, maybe a little too much but that’s all right. I couldn’t care less about my body. If I had to worry about my appearance as well, I would definitely kill myself.

“My love has concrete feet, my love’s an iron ball, wrapped around your ankles, over the waterfall...”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think it was on purpose.”

A glass bottle of a carrot juice slips out of my palm as I jump in a complete horror. My socks soak in the sticky liquid but I can barely seem bothered by this. I turn on the heel and look at the utter darkness in my living room. The same moment the street lights turn on and a beam of weak light falls on his face as well. I feel my body trembling. I want to back out but there is no escape - he could catch me any time. Not that he would but the fear takes over my mind.

“You... you broke into my house?” I ask, panting. A panic attack is around the corner.

“I entered your house without your knowledge,” he replies, utterly steady. “There’s a difference-“

“What are you doing here?” I put on a tough act but we both know it’s a ruse. I don’t care. I don’t want him to break me again. I might never recover.

“I came to see you.”

I scoff.

“You could do it the normal way.”

“Would you meet me, then?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

I’m pressed against the refrigerator and I feel a pain in my back as the metallic door resists to my spinal bones. He makes three steps forward. He takes off his gloves and shoves them into his coat pockets. He takes if off as well, with no rush, and throws it away on my couch. Without unlocking our eyes, he approaches me. I’m sure I’ll tip over the refrigerator in a second because he’s so close there can’t be more than a foot between us. He stops. My head is dizzy and I feel like throwing up but then he squats and begins to collect the shreds of glass bottle from the floor. I’m sweaty but relieved. The tension leaves my body and I exhale loudly.

It catches his attention. He looks up at me.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

I scoff again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I turn around to face the kitchen counter and find paper towels but they’re on the opposite side. I glare down and see that the juice is everywhere but my socks are completely soaked up, so it wouldn’t be smart of me to walk off to the bathroom for a mop. Besides, I could step into the cracks and that was not the point of his help.

He finishes and throws the glass away. He remembers very well where my bin is. After that, he wordlessly goes to my bedroom and comes back with a pair of dry socks. I can see that he spread a bit of the juice on the floor but his gesture successfully disables my frustration. He sticks out his arms towards me. I hesitate. What is he planning to do? I slowly reach out to his arms but he slides them under my armpits and lifts me up over the juice, placing me on my small kitchen island. Then he disappears in the bathroom and comes back with the mop. He wipes out the floor. Not a word slips out of his lips.

I slowly take off my wet socks, watching his every move. I put the dirty socks away next to me and reach out for the paper towel. I dry my feet out while Sherlock cleans up my kitchen floor. Even my old self would say that only a lunatic would find it possible. Cheers to all of us, crazies. I put away the used paper towel as well and put on my new socks. I start to swing my legs a little bit as Sherlock finishes the cleanup. He walks off to the bathroom to rinse off the mop for the last time and comes back to me. I can’t look away somehow.

“Thank you,” I say in a hoarse voice. I clear my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, nor be an intruder.”

I shrug.

“It was just a carrot juice. I’ll drink more water, then.”

My legs swing more and more intensively. I know what it means and so does he, so I force myself to stop because a smirk crawls up on his face. I feel my cheeks burning up and I instantly regret tangling my hair into a pony tail. This is probably the most normal thing that happened to me in about nine months.

He places his hand next to my left thigh and leans on. I feel his perfume and something in me shivers. My heart rate goes wild but I cannot force myself to look away. He puts his palm really gently on my right cheek and his face is so close I can see every pore on his skin. I give in and let out a quiet exhale. I close my eyes and my body is fulfilled with warmth as his lips lock with mine. He moves a little to stand fully in front of me and takes my face in both of his hands. His lips open more and more eagerly as he doesn’t see any objection on my side. My legs clench around his waist, I throw my arms around his neck. I pull him closer but it’s difficult to say whether I’m motivated by the kiss or the simple need of a hug.

I feel awaken. My body’s warm, pulsing with every beat my heart does. For the first time in many months I feel alive and I relish this moment because I know that in a minute, everything will end.

And it does.

I push him away a little too hard. He has to take a step back to prevent a fall. The passionate fire turns into anger.

“Don’t do it.”

I feel a twinge in my chest seeing pain in his eyes. He looks as if I just crushed his last hope. His blue eyes are tired, miss their old spark. I hate myself for pushing him away and feeling the way I feel.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” I hiss through my teeth.

“What doesn’t?”

“Us.”

He winces and shifts nervously.

“What?”

I clench my palm into a fist and press it against my forehead, leaned forward. A forgotten suffering comes back to me. I’ve buried it so deep inside I was certain it was gone but it’s been waiting for me. A battle I didn’t want to fight starts right here and right now. And I, again, want to be dead and dead only. I close my eyes so tightly it almost hurts as does every cell in my body.

“We don’t make sense,” I utter after anticipating a less painful moment.

He starts breathing quicker. He’s as lost as he’s never been before. I imagine that’s how he looked like calling me to save me. Helpless in the face of the truth.

“How could you have fallen in love with me, then? ” he asks, hopelessness taking over him. “Despite all the pain I’ve caused you, all the things I’ve said...”

“I suppose love is a kind of madness,” I say, my unseeing eyes focused on one irrelevant point.

“Your love is illogical, since I’ve always been an utter cock.”

“Not always,” I reply, smirking weakly. “But we don’t love for the logical reasons. We love despite all the illogical ones.”

We fall silent. I enjoy my most sane moment for several minutes. It can disappear anytime.

“I love you.”

I raise my head up. It feels like my heart skips a beat.

His eyes gaze at me with pain I’ve never seen on his face. He almost pants, his arms are unfolded. He’s like a living target. He’s just showed me where to shoot and I stretch my bow, aiming for his chest.

“But you cannot give me the love I want,” I reply, my voice stifled. I finally sigh in exasperation. “We’re far two different. It would be a disaster of a relationship. Can you imagine yourself cleaning our flat every Saturday, planning our wedding, putting our children to sleep? Because this is want I want. But it would only hurt us more.”

“I can change,” he says.

I scoff.

“And that’s the point,” I respond. “I don’t want you to change. I love you the way you are. I love every part of you. But you cannot love me. You couldn’t have loved me before and you can’t do it now.”

“I think I’ve loved you long before,” he says in a weak voice.

I am... sorry. Forgive me.

You can see me.

You do count.

I’ve always trusted you.

Thank you.

The one person who mattered the most.

I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper.

You look well.

I’m worried about you, Molly.

I love you.

I gaze at him almost breathless. I blink and make myself utter a response:

“I love you, too,” I whisper. My eyes fill with tears. “But you cannot make me happy... Sherlock.”

His name tastes sweet in my mouth. I’ve missed saying it. Now I glance at his lips and think about the moments we shared a few minutes ago and back then in the hospital. I could share them with him forever. I would never get bored of him. But there would be times when he would forget about my presence in our flat, when he wouldn’t listen to me, chasing a lead. When he would be lost and I couldn’t find him.

And now... me with my mood swings and moments of insanity striking when the least expected. With my broken mind. Unfixable. Fucked up.

He suffers and this time, I’m the one to blame. I’ve broken the unbreakable man.

“I’ve turned you into something you’ve always hated,” I say. “You’re weak, you’re an easy target. You’re emotional and vulnerable.”

“As I’ve always been,” he replies. “You’re my strength.”

I wince.

“Strength? Sherlock-“

“You’re my strength because you’ve helped me understand myself better than anyone. I’ve never had to pretend with you. And... and back then in Sherrinford, when I realised how much pain I’ve caused you... no one ever has made me realise so much of me with so little words as you have. You are the reflection of my sensitivity. With you, I’m no longer myself.”

He begins to slowly get closer.

“But... But this is my point!” I protest. “It’s not a good thing becau-“

“It is a good thing because... what does it really mean - being myself?” He stops at less than a foot from me and scoffs. “I am myself in every minute of my life. I won’t miss my old self, though. I was a completely blind moron, who couldn’t appreciate people around him. And you’ve managed to look behind this curtain and see the man I am now. You’ve taught me to be who I am now.”

He smiles, lifting only one corner of his lips but he knows. I try to back out and escape his look but I feel that I don’t want to. My body is slowly giving in. It is so warm. It feels so good. I love him so much.

“But the old Molly may be no longer there. I’m a mess now,” I mumble, trying to avoid his gaze.

He cups my face in his palms again and places our foreheads together. I can’t resist. I don’t want to resist. I lose control over my head and I’m not even worried. A pleasant wave of chemicals floods my body and they’re better than any of the antipsychotics I’ve taken in the past nine months. I’m still a mess. I know that Sherlock will regret his decision one day when a switch in my brain goes off and I’ll stand at a rooftop (flashbacks will kill him, though). But I’m tired of trying to be normal.

“So am I. When I found out that Eurus had attacked you... I was both furious and hurt. I was torn. I still feel guilty over the fact that I couldn’t have prevented this and that she could have killed you. I was ready to bring hell on Earth. Maybe you’re a mess... but you’re also somehow a piece of puzzle that’s missing from my messy life.”

I feel the warmth of his breath on my face, the softness of his hands on my cheeks. His curls tickle my eyelids. I so weak.

“Oh, come on,” he whispers, “just give in already.”

I giggle and lose myself completely. I want to scream... but everything I do speaks louder than words.

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

Afraid Ch. 5

1988

Bob Rock was a genius. After the first few recording sessions ended with nothing recorded and Nikki, Tommy, and Vince just fighting with each other; he had wised up and made the decision to have the boys all record their parts separate from each other. I thought I was going to have to try to book the first flight home after the second day of Nikki and Vince screaming in each other’s faces one calling the other a diva. Not only were both of them divas, they were both assholes with huge rock and roll egos that couldn’t stand to have another big ego in the room. Mick had become my cigarette buddy when the yelling got to be too much for us. The arguing between Nikki and Vince was so bad Tommy would even leave to join us with the occasional joint to relieve our tension. I tried to only smoke the cigarettes, but Tommy was right, sometimes you just need a few puffs on a joint to deal with those two. I loved working with Bob Rock though, he was meticulous and loved to get to the point. We were working on getting Nikki’s bassline down for the song Kickstart My Heart when Bob called for a break.

“Alright let’s take a breather to eat some food or I may go crazy” He said stretching after getting out of his chair behind the board.

“I’m cool with that I was just thinking about sandwiches” I laughed stretching as well. I stuffed my cigarette pack in the pocket of my leather jacket and headed out to find something to eat.

“Hey wait up!” Nikki hollered after me. The entire week and a half we had been here he had been trying to spend as much time with me as he possibly could. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the company. He was trying to push “us being friends” so hard he even joined me for popcorn and movies in my hotel room one night.

“Did you ever think maybe I am a little over seeing your face Nikki?” I rolled my eyes, not because I was actually annoyed with him, I was annoyed with myself for not being annoyed with him.

“You really hurt me sometimes ya know that (y/n)” Nikki pouted his lower lip out at me which caused my lips to curl up into a smile.

“Your ego is too large for my little opinion to have any effect on you” I snickered, but was cut off by running into Nikki who had stepped in front of me. I looked up into his hazel eyes as he looked down at me cupping my cheek in his hand.

“Your opinion of me actually means the most to me out of anyone here” He said quietly and I drew in a quick gasp of breath. His mouth transformed into a smirk and he pinched my cheek lightly. “Wow (y/n) I didn’t realize you were so good at impersonating a tomato”

“God dammit Nikki Sixx” I scowled reaching up and pinching one of his nipples through his shirt (or ripped up cloth on his torso rather than an actual shirt) causing him to yipe a little bit.

“You know you can’t just twist my nipples all the time without taking me to dinner at least once” Nikki teased throwing an arm around my shoulder.

“Nikki we eat dinner together basically every night because you’re always coming to my hotel room to bother me” I hadn’t noticed I was now allowing Nikki to lead me and we were just walking down the road of the small town the studio was located.

“Those don’t count as dates and I want a date” Nikki said matter of factly.

“It’s not a good idea to mix business and pleasure” I poked him in the ribs lightly trying to sneak a peek at his face in order to see if he seemed to be joking.

“This would be mixing pleasure and pleasure. Music gives me pleasure and clearly it does the same for you. And we can pleasure each other” He shrugged nonchalantly, but his face held a shit eating grin.

“You’re ridiculous” I shook my head as he led me into some time sandwich shop on the corner. I tried not to think about how many butterflies were floating around my abdomen at the thought of a date with Nikki.

I yawned and leaned my head onto my upright palm closing my eyes as Bob and I relistened to the same section of the song getting Nikki and Mick’s parts together on (my personal favorite song) Don’t Go Away Mad. 

“(Y/N), just go to bed” Bob shook my shoulder.

“Helping you is my job though” I grumbled.

“So that means I’m your boss and I’m saying go to bed” He chuckled and I decided I wasn’t going to push it and went to go call a taxi on the payphone when I was confronted with Nikki on a motorcycle outside.

“What are you doing here Sixx?” I quirked an eyebrow making my way to him.

“We’re going on a date” He replied and patted the back of his seat.

“It’s midnight. No place is open for a date” I wasn’t about to go to a bar for a date if that was what he had in mind.

“Will you just hush and get on the bike?” He laughed shaking his head.

I figured I had nothing to lose by climbing on his bike so I got on behind him and put my hands on his shoulders.

“You’re ridiculous.” Nikki shook his head and moved my arms to wrap around his waist. “Hold on tight”

Next thing I knew we were peeling out of the parking lot of the studio and headed down the road. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my face into Nikki’s back allowing myself to indulge a little bit. I pressed my hands against his abdomen feeling his abs underneath my fingertips and allowed myself to picture dragging my nails down his torso having him shiver beneath me. I took a deep breath and enjoying the scent of leather, cigarettes, and the smallest hint of cologne. Before I knew it we were pulling into the parking lot of the hotel.

“Uh are we changing before the date?” I asked confused.

“No the date is here.” Nikki replied getting the bike settled and shutting it off.

“The date is at the hotel that we’re already staying at and eat at every day?” I couldn’t tell if Nikki was just fucking with me or if he was actually that lazy.

“Stop talking” Nikki grabbed my hand dragging me into the elevator pressing the number for our floor.

When we got to the floor our rooms were on Nikki pulled his scarf off his neck and covered my eyes with it. Giggling as he continued to lead me to our secret destination I squeezed his hand and felt him squeeze back. We stopped and I heard Nikki opening a door before he’s ushering me inside the room.

“Okay you can take the scarf off.” He said and I untied the scarf from my head. I was met with a pizza on the bed, some candles, and two bottles of water with a bottle of wine in a bowl with ice.

“Nikki.. This is beautiful” My jaw is practically on the floor. It wasn’t a lot, and yet it was more than she’s recieved in a long time.

“Well get comfy and I’ll put in that movie you’ve been talking about” Nikki nudged me toward the bed.

“Child’s Play?” I asked excitedly taking my jacket and shoes off before climbing on the bed.

“Yup” Nikki smiled devilishly and put the tape in the player.

I had my face pressed into Nikki’s shoulder. I officially had a fear of dolls now I think. Nikki was running a hand through my hair and laughing at me on and off every time I squealed and I tried to tell myself that me being curled in his lap was purely out of fear and not because I’ve been dreaming of being tangled up in him.

“The movie is over you big baby.” Nikki lightly removed me from his lap and shut the T.V. off.

“Listen, dolls are ruined for me forever.” I shivered nervously.

“I’ll be sure to get you a doll for Christmas then” I tossed a pillow at him and he slapped it out of the air laughing at me again.

“Fuck you Nikki if you get me a doll I will fight you.” I tried to come off as tough, but it’s hard to seem badass when you feel like a Barbie could make you cry.

“Oh whatever. I’m going to go to bed so I’ll see you in the morning.” Nikki started to head toward the door to my room.

“Wait!” My mouth spoke on it’s own volition. “Please stay with me. Uh, I’m scared”

“Where would I sleep? The floor isn’t comfortable” Nikki was looking at me funny and a lump formed in my throat.

“In the bed..with, with me.” I spoke quietly.

“Okay.” Nikki smiled and made his way to the bed. “Am I okay to take these off? Sleeping in leather pants isn’t comfortable.”

“I’m not going to sleep in my leather pants so I’m not going to make you sleep in yours.” I was up unlacing my leather pants at the same time he was and we made eye contact. I spun around unable to maintain eye contact without turning bright red. I unclasped my bra and slid it off my shoulders and tossed it to the side on top of my pants and settled into the bed. Nikki settled into the other side and an awkward silence filled the room.

“Okay well goodnight.” I choked out and shut the light off on the nightstand. I layed there staring at the ceiling while my eyes adjusted to the dark. I could see the form of Nikki laying next to me also on his back staring up. There was a loud bang outside the window and I quickly tucked myself into Nikki’s side.

“(Y/N) it was just thunder” Nikki turned onto his side wrapping me up in his arms. I could see the outline of his features and I couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face.

“You make me nervous” I let the words I’m thinking slip out between my lips.

“You make me excited” Nikki whispered back.

“I want to mix business and pleasure with you” I started to close the distance between us when Nikki put a hand on my chest and stopped me.

“You know I come with some baggage.” Nikki sighed “I’ve never been able to make a relationship work before.”

“Nikki we met in rehab shut up and kiss me before I change my mind.” And with that Nikki tangled his hand in my hair bringing our lips together. I had been picturing what Nikki’s lips on mine would feel like since the first time he pouted at me and I could not have properly imagined the way he would make me feel. I brought my hand to his chest and balled his shirt in my fist pulling him closer to me. Nikki tugged my hair and pulled our faces apart in order to catch our breath before he connected our mouths again. I moaned into his mouth and well, the next thing I knew my hands were pinned above my head.

[gb-fics]

Art Class - Thursday (4)

AU Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

Note: Read Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.

She was back. Shou had not expected it and he was not prepared.

She had taken the easel next to the door, almost exactly opposite to Shou. If he peaked around his canvas, he could see her chatting and laughing with her friend.

Shou himself hadn’t done much chatting and laughing today. His throat felt dry and tight whenever he just thought of talking.

The last days, he had been incredible loud with Yutaka. Because Yutaka was incredible loud by nature and Shou hadn’t cared what the other students thought of him.

Ever since Sakura was back, he cared a whole damn lot.

She looked a little pale, he thought. Maybe she should have stayed at home longer. She should also have dressed more warmly. Wear a scarf maybe.

Shou’s painting was finished by now. He wasn’t really pleased with it, but didn’t know how to improve it, either. He hadn’t felt too motivation to improve it to begin with. The last hour, he had spent just holding up a paint brush, trying to look busy while secretly watching Sakura. She was prettier than he remembered. Three days, and he had almost forgotten her. But watching her, it all came back. Shou wished he had the courage to talk to her.

“Hey”, Yutaka said. “Hey, idiot, what do you think?”

He turned his canvas towards Shou.

Shou thought that it looked like a pretty bad painting of a toilet bowl.

“It’s alright”, he said.

Yutaka rolled his eyes at him.

“Dude, you really are no fun today”, he stated.

He turned his head and looked over at Sakura. Shou wanted to tell him to stop, because he was staring way too openly, but he was scared of drawing attention.

Finally, Yutaka turned to look back at Shou.

“Do me a favour and just ask her out already”, he said, not nearly as quiet as Shou would have preferred. “Your pining is becoming unbearable.”

“I can’t just ask her out”, Shou whispered back.

“Class will be over soon”, Yutaka pointed out. “Tomorrow, we’ll finish at noon already. If you ask now, tomorrow after class would be the perfect time for a date. It’s your last chance.”

Shou cast his eyes down and shook his head reluctantly.

For Yutaka it was easy to talk like that. Surely, he had picked up a girl at the group date just like that yesterday. Shou hadn’t dared to ask. Yutaka hadn’t mentioned it either. Shou wondered if he was mad at him for declining the invitation. He didn’t seem mad, but maybe not talking about something was Yutaka’s way of being angry at you.

“I just can’t”, Shou repeated softly.

He wished Yutaka would understand and leave him alone. Just watching Sakura from his stand by the window was enough for Shou already. He could fantasize about her and that was way better than actually trying and getting turned down.

Yutaka turned to look at his own canvas again. He was finished, too. The white paint was still wet.

“You are killing me��, Yutaka said.

Shou huffed and went back to watching Sakura. She was still working with her pencil. Since she had joined them only today, Utahiroba Sensei had agreed to letting her hand in a sketch instead of a full painting.

“I don’t understand what you are seeing in her anyway”, Yutaka went on. He was muttering now, which Shou was thankful for, so no one would be able to overhear their conversation. It also evoked the strange impression that Yutaka was talking to himself.

“She is so cute and delicate”, Shou replied quietly. “I bet she is a kind person.”

“I bet she is sketching flowers”, Yutaka said.

Shou threw him an angry side-glance. He understood perfectly well what Yutaka was implying. But to Shou, Sakura wasn’t boring at all.

“It would only mean she has a sense of beauty”, Shou said.

Yutaka opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again as Sakura stepped away from her easel. It seemed as if she wanted to walk to the shelf in the back to check for materials to work with.

“Now!”, Yutaka hissed. “It’s your chance to approach her casually.”

Shou had to admit that Yutaka was right. He would never gather the courage to just walk over and start a conversation with her surrounded by her friends. But just walking to the shelf at the same time and making it look like a coincidence might be doable. He could help her search for whatever it was she was looking for. He’d certainly find an excuse to start talking.

But his throat felt so dry, he wasn’t sure he’d get out a word. Yutaka would never understand what it meant to feel this nervous.

Very slightly Shou shook his head again.

Sakura was now about to reach the back of the room.

Yutaka sighed very quietly. Then he took up his canvas from the stand and held it up in front of himself as if wanting to present it to the room.

“Sensei!”, he called out. “I have a question. Could you …”

Hurriedly, he walked up to the teacher’s desk, heading into the opposite direction as Sakura.

He bumped right into her.

Yutaka cursed loudly.

He stepped back and looked at Sakura and then at his canvas. Sakura’s shirt and her bare arms were covered in white paint. Yutaka’s picture was smudged and ruined.

“Oh, no, no, no”, he said loudly. “I’m so sorry. I … I think I need to try and fix my painting, before it dries. My … my friend will help you clean up.” He turned around and made a face. “Shou!”, he called.

Shou swallowed hard.

“It’s alright, really”, Sakura said shyly. “I can take care of it myself.”

“No, I insist”, Yutaka said. “I’m busy, but a gentleman. Shou, move your ass!”

He didn’t really leave him with a choice. But weirdly enough, Shou was thankful for that. As long as he still had a choice, he would have chosen not to talk to Sakura. He just wished Yutaka had found a way to do it without drawing the attention of the entire class.

Shou hurried from his easel to get some paper towels for Sakura. Yutaka went back to his place by the window and started fussing over his painting. Shou wasn’t sure if he was actually trying to fix it or just acting busy.

He stopped short in front of Sakura and awkwardly handed her some of the tissues.

“Thank you”, she said and smiled at him.

She didn’t just smile about something her friend had said while Shou was watching. She looked at him directly and granted him with a smile only meant for him.

His ears felt hot and he was sure his face was slowly turning red.

“I’m sorry for my friend”, Shou stuttered and awkwardly started to rub Sakura’s lower arm with one of the tissues.

He wasn’t sure where he was allowed to touch her. The arm felt safe. Yet, it was already a little too much for Shou.

“I’m just worried if his painting is not ruined. He’ll get a bad grade now for sure”, Sakura said.

She had a very soft way of speaking, so her words sounded quiet and gentle. Shou thought that it was the exact opposite of how Yutaka spoke.

He had to admit, that he hadn’t really paid a thought to Yutaka’s painting yet. He would probably get a bad grade. And he had accepted that just to provide Shou with the chance to talk to Sakura. Shou wasn’t sure he’d done the same. It was kind of selfless.

But on the other hand, Yutaka hadn’t exactly destroyed an artistic masterpiece. His grade wouldn’t have been good to begin with.

“Honestly”, he said and leaned in a little. When talking to Sakura, he automatically spoke more softly, too. “I don’t think it looks any worse than before.”

Sakura giggled very quietly and looked down on her shirt.

“Maybe I should go to the bathroom to clean this”, she said.

“Sure, I will take you”, Shou hurried to say.

Sakura blushed slightly. Shou realized what he had just said. He probably blushed a little, too.

“I mean, just, you know, I will walk you there. I uhm. Yutaka will be furious, if I don’t make sure you are alright.”

He knew that he had used Yutaka as a pretty cheap excuse, but Shou could hardly admit that he didn’t want to stop talking to Sakura yet. A chance like that would probably not show itself again any time soon.

“Thank you”, Sakura said and smiled at him once more.

Shou realized that she could have turned the offer down as well. Was it possible that she actually liked Shou? Or at least did not mind him liking her? Shou had always assumed she would be uncomfortable, if an awkward guy like him approached her. But the way she smiled at him indicated that she didn’t find him all that awkward.

They walked to the door, Shou gesturing over to Utahiroba Sensei, who just nodded as if he didn’t really care.

Out on the corridor, Shou became aware that they were alone now. Just him and Sakura. It was quiet. He wrecked his brain for something intelligent to say.

“It’s a shame you missed the first three days of the project week”, Shou said.

“Yes”, Sakura agreed.

Shou actually had to strain his ears to understand her. He wished she would speak up just a tiny bit more.

There was awkward silence for a moment, before Sakura picked up talking again. Shou wondered if maybe she was inwardly cursing herself, too, for not being able to keep the conversation going normally.

“I like art and drawing, so I really wanted to be there.”

“I don’t really know anything about art, to be honest”, Shou admitted. “I just thought art class would be most relaxed.” He had stolen that from Yutaka, but he couldn’t very well tell Sakura why he actually had chosen art class. “But I can’t draw and don’t know any artists at all.”

They rounded a corner that led to the restrooms.

“I really like the old European artists”, Sakura said shyly. “Like the Italian Renaissance painters.”

Shou hesitated.

“Well”, he said. “I like Italian food.”

Sakura laughed. It wasn’t just a shy giggle, but an actual laugh. Shou relaxed instantly.

“I only know pizza, so I guess we are even”, she said. “I don’t really know about European food.”

Shou hesitated. It wouldn’t get any easier than that and he knew it. Moreover, Sakura had laughed. That probably meant she enjoyed talking to him just a little. It probably meant she liked Shou – just a little.

His throat felt dry again.

He swallowed and wondered what Kyan Yutaka would do. Yutaka was fearless and carefree. If Shou was just a little bit more like him, life would be easier. Kyan Yutaka would ask the girl out.

“Actually, I know a nice Italian place around here. We could eat there together sometime, if you want to.”

For a few heartbeats Shou held his breath. It was impossible that she would say yes.

“Really?”, Sakura asked and looked up. Shou realized that she seemed happy. “I would really like to go.”

They had reached the restrooms now. It would be good timing to part and end with the promise of going out sometime. But Shou thought of Yutaka’s words and of the painting he had sacrificed.

“Tomorrow, class ends early”, Shou said. “How about afterwards?”

Sakura nodded.

“Sure”, she said, still smiling. For a moment, they just stood, smiling at each other. Finally, Sakura gestured towards the ladies’ room. “I should ...”, she said.

“Uhm, yeah”, Shou said. “Okay, I’ll go back. You don’t want me to wait out here for you like a creep. So, uhm, tomorrow.”

“Yes”, Sakura confirmed.

As the door fell shut behind her, Shou already dashed off back to the art classroom. He couldn’t wait to tell Yutaka.

He slowed down his steps again before entering the room, trying to keep a casual expression. He walked back to his easel. He had expected Yutaka to wait for him curiously, but he was staring at his canvas instead. As Shou looked over, he realized that the painting was completely smudged indeed.

“I’m sorry”, Shou mumbled. Then he boxed Yutaka lightly against the shoulder. “But hey, I have a date tomorrow after class.”

Yutaka swirled around, suddenly beaming.

“Oh man, I was totally expecting you to blow this”, he said. “But then it was worth it. Name one of your kids after me, will you?”

Shou snorted. He was still beaming as well, though. He hadn’t imagined this to work out. On his own, he would never have managed to get a date like this.

“Seriously, thank you”, he said. “The weird thing is that she actually doesn’t seem to hate me.”

Yutaka rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, I’m not the only one who noticed you at this festival”, he said. “You are funny and friendly and you can sing. You’d be surprised how many girls would go out with you, if only you’d asked them.”

“One girl at a time”, Shou said jokingly and then shut up as he noticed Utahiroba Sensei walking towards them.

Their teacher remained standing next to Yutaka, looking onto the left-overs of his painting.

“I was expecting you to fail class already”, he said coldly.

Shou wondered why Utahiroba Sensei was being so harsh all of a sudden. Maybe he assumed it hadn’t been an accident, but that Yutaka had been out trying to cause trouble again. Shou wished he could explain that it wasn’t Yutaka’s usual reckless behaviour, but that he had actually done a really nice thing for a friend.

“Fail class?!”, Yutaka repeated. “But Sensei, I worked hard on this.”

“Well, you will get your grades tomorrow morning and class ends at noon”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “I don’t think you will be able to fix it until then.”

The school bell rang out, announcing the end of the school day.

“See”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “You are out of time.”

“Maybe I could stay longer and try to fix it?”, Yutaka suggested.

His face looked worried and his voice sounded begging. In spite of his attitude of not caring very much for anything, Shou realized that he dreaded failing class. The results of project week would be written on their next report. Maybe he’d be in trouble with his family. Shou’s parents surely wouldn’t be amused about something like that.

“I might make a mistake once”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “But I don’t make it twice.”

Yutaka stared at their teacher angrily. Shou could tell that this wasn’t the best way to change his mind.

“Utahiroba Sensei, please”, he said. “I know what you think, but this time, it wasn’t Yutaka’s fault. It really wasn’t.”

Utahiroba Sensei turned his head to look at Shou. For a moment, he just eyed him critically, then Shou saw the lines around his mouth soften. He obviously believed him.

“Please”, Shou repeated. “We will both stay longer and try to fix it. It wouldn’t be fair to let him fail class for something that wasn’t his fault.”

“You’ll stay, too?”, Utahiroba Sensei assured.

Yutaka was looking at him curiously, too.

“We’re partners, right?”, Shou said. “We are supposed to learn teamwork with this exercise.”

Utahiroba Sensei snorted very quietly, then he gave a small shrug.

“Alright, I was planning to stay longer and get some work done at the teacher’s room anyway. Just leave the key with the gatekeeper again.”

“Thank you, Sensei!”, Yutaka shouted, suddenly so cheerful again that Utahiroba Sensei shook his head.

He put the key onto the desk like last time and gathered his things before leaving the room. The other students had headed out already.

“So, what are we going to do about this?”, Shou asked and pointed at the picture.

“I will just fix the outlines”, Yutaka suggested and took up a small brush. “Then we need to colour in the white parts again. You can help with that in a bit.”

“You mind if I make a call?”, Shou asked. “I invited Sakura to this Italian restaurant around here and should make a reservation.”

Yutaka shrugged as if he wanted to indicate that he didn’t really care. Shou went over to his bag to get out his mobile. Luckily, he found the phone number of the Italian place easily once he typed its name into google. It took quite a while until someone picked up, though. Shou already started to worry they were still closed.

“Hello?”, a female voice finally greeted him. She was speaking English.

“Uhm, I’d like, uhm, I’d like to reserve a table for tomorrow at lunch”, Shou stuttered in Japanese, hoping they would understand him. He had only ever walked past the restaurant looking in from the outside and hadn’t known they were so exclusive that they spoke in other languages.

“Sure”, the woman replied; thankfully in Japanese this time. “How many people and what time?”

“Two. Two people”, Shou said. He felt weirdly nervous. He wasn’t used to reserving tables at real restaurants. Usually, if he went out with friends, they lived of fast food. It made the whole date feel even more serious. “At 12:30 pm?”

“What’s the name?”, the woman asked.

Shou cursed himself. He hadn’t even introduced himself. Didn’t you do that first when calling a stranger? Why was he so bad at things like that?

“Kiryuuin. The name is Kiryuuin”, he said.

“Alright, we’ll have the table ready at 12:30”, the woman assured. “We are looking forward to your visit.”

“Thank you”, Shou mumbled and hung up.

“Man, you seemed stressed”, Yutaka observed.

“She was speaking English when she picked up. English. I thought that was it. I was ready to give up on the date and die.”

Yutaka chuckled.

“Stop being overdramatic and get to work already”, he said.

Shou walked over and picked up a paint brush of his own. Yutaka still wasn’t done with the outlines entirely. Shou had to bent awkwardly to work with Yutaka’s arm partly blocking the view. They were working in silence for a while.

“Thanks for helping”, Yutaka said finally. “You didn’t have to stay. It’s not your problem after all.”

“But it’s my fault”, Shou said.

He paused.

“You didn’t have to do that for me, either”, he then added.

Yutaka shrugged.

He was done with the lines now and pulled back his arm.

“You told me that you like her”, he said. “If that’s what you want, I thought I might help. I want you to be happy, you know.”

Shou thought that regardless of his outward attitude, Yutaka might very well be the nicest person he had ever met.

“You are a good friend”, he said.

“Yeah”, Yutaka said, speaking rather harshly. He started to colour in white now, too, but worked on the left side only. They were no longer getting into each other’s way.

“I want to be your friend. I mean …” Yutaka broke off.

Shou wondered if Yutaka knew how he felt. That he thought they’d probably lose touch as soon as the project week was over, because that was what usually happened to Shou’s friendships. Maybe Yutaka was soothing him.

“I’m glad”, Shou said.

This week with Yutaka really had been a lot of fun. Sure, he had been a little confused somewhere along the second half, but now that he got his date with Sakura, things were clear to Shou again. Yutaka wanted him to date Sakura. Shou wanted to date Sakura. Even Sakura seemingly wanted Shou to date her. They were good.

Now that the apprehension about getting turned down by Sakura and about Yutaka possibly flirting with him had faded, Shou felt incredible lightheaded. Things were looking up. He saw a fair chance that it would work out with Sakura. He saw a fair chance, too, that he might stay friends with Yutaka and would still get their occasional adventures minus the weird tension. Kissing girls and being silly with Yutaka was pretty much all Shou could ever ask for in life.

He hummed under his breath while drawing.

After a while Yutaka chuckled.

Shou stopped his humming.

“What?”, he asked.

“It’s like someone turned on the radio”, Yutaka said.

“You mind?”, Shou wanted to know.

Yutaka shook his head.

“It’s nice to have some music, actually.”

Shou picked up his humming again, louder this time. He was humming the melody of a pop song he knew from the radio, singing words during the chorus that he remembered and humming along to the parts he couldn’t recall. He started moving his brush in the rhythm of the song, too.

After a moment, he looked up, realizing that Yutaka had stopped painting but was just watching him.

“I’m really glad I got you this date”, Yutaka said as their eyes met. “You are too wholesome when you are happy.”

“I am happy”, Shou confirmed and went on painting. “Sakura is really sweet. I’m glad now that I didn’t let you set me up with some random girl yesterday.”

“What?”, Yutaka asked.

“Well, the group date. Yesterday”, Shou reminded him. “You wanted to introduce me to some girls, remember?”

Yutaka was silent for a moment and Shou wondered if he had really managed to forget after such a short time. But then Yutaka seemed to live very much in the present. He probably couldn’t even recall what he had eaten for breakfast this morning.

“The girls, right”, Yutaka said. “I wanted to, yes, I wanted to introduce you to girls. That’s totally what I wanted to do.”

“So, how did it go anyway?”, Shou asked. “Met anyone nice?”

He wasn’t sure why, but somehow the question made him uncomfortable. He did not want to think of whom Yutaka might have met yesterday. That was stupid of course, because Yutaka had every right to meet whomever he wanted. And Shou had a date with Sakura.

“Oh, I didn’t go in the end”, Yutaka said, clearing his throat as if he was somehow embarrassed to admit that.

Shou felt relieved. Then he felt guilty for feeling relieved instantly.

“How come?”, he asked anyway.

Yutaka had seemed quite eager on going the other day.

“I guess, well, I didn’t feel like it, that’s all”, Yutaka said.

“I’m sure the girls were very disappointed”, Shou said lightly.

Yutaka was still staring at him instead of painting.

“Shou, you really …?” Yutaka broke off. From the corner of his eyes, Shou saw him shake his head. “Well, you’ve got your date with Sakura now anyway.”

Yutaka turned towards the canvas again and picked up painting. Shou wondered what he had wanted to ask.

They kept painting in silence. It was really just about filling the white paint back in, so it wasn’t complicated and they would be done fast. When he was done with his half, Shou put aside his paint brush and studied the picture while Yutaka filled in the last bits.

Suddenly, his outburst from Monday felt very ridiculous to Shou. Back then, it had made sense to him. Now, he just wondered why they hadn’t just painted flowers like any normal person would. Yutaka had painted a toilet bowl. A toilet bowl for fuck’s sake. The paintings would be on display for the students from the entire year.

He couldn’t help laughing.

“I can’t believe we actually stayed in school longer than necessary to paint a toilet”, Shou observed.

Yutaka started laughing quietly, too. He took a step back to eye his work.

“That should do”, he stated. “They should give me an A for stupidity already.”

“Stupidity is not a discipline, idiot. Otherwise, you’d be top of the class”, Shou said and turned to Yutaka. He was still holding the paint brush in his hand and pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes now. He left behind a white streak on his cheek.

Yutaka grinned widely. He wasn’t looking at Shou but at his painting. He looked proud.

And Shou thought that right now, right there, he looked stunningly beautiful. There was something about his lopsided grin that wasn’t meant for anyone. The fact that he was ridiculously happy about his painting of a toilet. The white paint on his cheek, because he seemed to bring chaos whenever he walked. His willingness to destroy his picture for Shou. He hadn’t even hesitated. And Shou thought of his date with Sakura tomorrow and he realized that this was his last chance. If he wanted to know what it would feel like, he had to try it now. Because if it worked out with Sakura tomorrow, he might never find out.

“You have …”, he said, shocked at how hoarse his own voice sounded. His throat felt dry again. But this afternoon he had tried to act like Kyan Yutaka and it had worked out fine. He looked at Yutaka now and imagined to be carefree and fearless.

“Huh?”, Yutaka made, turning to look at Shou. He looked only mildly curious and Shou realized that he had no idea of what Shou was intending to do.

“You have paint on your cheek”, he said and took a step towards Yutaka.

He placed his hand against Yutaka’s cheek, rubbing his thumb against the paint to wipe it off. It had already dried and stayed in place.

Yutaka grimaced at him as if indicating that Shou was being too rough on him. His eyes seemed large, though and Shou thought he looked a little panicked, like a small animal in a trap. But he did not pull back.

“You are supposed to remove the paint, not my face, moron”, Yutaka said weakly.

“Just let me …”, Shou mumbled and then he finally found his courage.

He leaned in and kissed Yutaka right on the lips.

He had expected Yutaka to remain stiff with surprise, but his whole body grew soft against Shou almost immediately. Shou felt him leaning in, his lips parting and his stomach took a little leap. His whole body felt tingly and he couldn’t focus on anything but the soft sensation of Yutaka’s lips.

Shou had kissed girls before, though not many and the kisses had always felt awkward somehow. With Yutaka, though, it didn’t feel weird. He put his hands onto Shou’s shoulders and added just the right amount of pressure. With him, Shou felt guided and not clumsy at all.

After a moment, he pulled back, still standing close.

Yutaka smiled at him and started to straighten out the collar of Shou’s school uniform. It was a weirdly sweet, intimate gesture that did not seem to suit Yutaka at all. He usually was one to cause chaos, not sort it out again.

“It was the star gazing, right?”, he asked.

Shou chuckled and shook his head.

“It was when you dropped the lighter. On the first day”, he replied.

Because for a moment there, Yutaka’s mask had dropped and he had looked a little embarrassed and very likeable.

“Ah, right”, Yutaka said knowingly. “Getting really nervous in front of a cute guy. That’s my special seduction move.”

Shou snorted quietly, but was shut up when Yutaka leaned in to kiss him again. Shou met with his lips willingly. Of all the people Shou had kissed so far, Yutaka was definitely the most skilful.

Without breaking the kiss, he took a step forward, forcing Yutaka to take a step back. Yutaka’s back was now pressing against the window sill. Shou put his hands onto it on each side of Yutaka, caging him in and pressing their bodies closer together. Yutaka’s hands were still on his shoulders.

Shou felt like maybe he was being too greedy, but he couldn’t help all of his teenage hormones rioting. Yutaka’s body was warm and Shou thought of undressing him and running his hands across his bare skin. He hadn’t expected to feel so excited by the thought of doing that to a male body, but he sensed the outline of Yutaka’s flat chest and his narrow hips clearly and the grip of his hands was strong and firm, and Shou thought that all of that felt pretty amazing.

He broke the kiss again to catch his breath.

“Not to be rushing things”, Yutaka mumbled. “But if that groping offer still stands, I have the key to the astronomy club and they have a couch there, you know?”

Shou rubbed his nose against the white streak on Yutaka’s cheek and placed a short kiss right below it. Then he put his forehead against Yutaka’s shoulder, inhaling deeply.

He thought of touching Yutaka while lying on that couch with him. He thought of taking off his shirt and maybe rubbing against his pants until he felt him grow hard. And he thought of having a date with Sakura tomorrow.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered. “I really don’t know what I’m doing. I just thought of this all week, somehow. And before I go out with Sakura tomorrow, I thought. But I’m not sure we should.”

“Oh”, Yutaka said.

He said nothing else, but Shou felt his body growing stiff in his arms. He pulled back a little to get a good look at Yutaka.

“So, you were just curious like the rest of them”, Yutaka concluded. He sounded bitter.

Shou shook his head, but he didn’t know what to say. He had been curious after all. And he still wasn’t sure if this was what he wanted. Yes, he desired Yutaka right now. But he didn’t see a future for them. He didn’t want to remain invisible to everyone and sneak away with Yutaka in the evening sometimes to exchange kisses in secret. He wanted a real relationship. With holding hands and talking to each other and joining their common friends on group dates. Shou wanted to be loved. With Yutaka, it would never be stable, but always just another adventure, at least that was how he felt about kissing him. That probably meant he was just curious.

“I’m not like the others”, Shou said softly. His voice sounded as if he was begging. Kissing Yutaka had felt so nice just now, but now he was all cold and things were feeling complicated. Shou was begging for them to be easy again.

“I swear, I’m not ducking out, because I’m not attracted to you. Maybe the others didn’t want to take it any further, but I don’t mind. I want to touch you everywhere.” Shou felt his cheeks heating up with the last sentence. But he needed Yutaka to know that he wasn’t scared.

“But you are still going out with Sakura”, Yutaka said flatly.

Shou shrugged.

“If I get aroused, what difference does it make if I’m just curious?”, he asked.

Yutaka stared at him for a long time without saying anything.

Then he put his hands against Shou’s chest gently, making him take a step back.

“The difference is”, he clarified. “That I get emotionally invested. It can break my heart.”

He sidestepped Shou and without haste collected his things.

“Yutaka”, Shou said softly.

Yutaka shouldered his bag without looking back at Shou. He walked towards the door, but stopped before he reached it.

“I’m not mad at you”, Yutaka clarified without turning. “But I need boundaries.” Then he left the room.

Shou stared after him for a moment and then lowered his eyes. On the floor next to his feet, the paint brush with the white tip was lying. Yutaka must have dropped it when Shou had kissed him.

He understood very well why Yutaka had left.

Because what was just another adventure to Shou, had meant holding hands and talking to each other and going out on group dates to Yutaka. To Yutaka it meant being loved, too. Because to him two men were no different to a man and a woman, while to Shou it still felt like something that could not be viewed as a real relationship. All the boys kissing boys Shou knew personally, had been experimenting, not seriously considered dating. And even then, it had only been talked about in hushed voices.

He thought of Utahiroba Sensei and wondered if he loved Darvish Sensei. He wondered if that was why Yutaka had taken art class, too. Not because Utahiroba was a relaxed teacher, but because Yutaka needed some kind of role model. Shou thought that it must feel lonely and difficult to accept yourself, when there was hardly anyone around accepting you as you were.

He knelt down on the floor, picking of the brush. There were smears of paint on the floor now, too. He’d have to clean those up as well.

Shou wondered if he really had been curious or just bad at accepting himself.

He got up again to get a cloth to clean up yet another mess Yutaka had left behind. This time, though, Shou knew that it was him who had caused the mess.

[ifbrd]

Who should know their secret identities: A Huggy and WordGirl Relationship Analysis

Let’s take a moment to discuss WordGirl/Becky and Huggy/Bob’s relationship. To label it, it seems to be an interesting mix of friendship, mentor/mentee, and parent/child. Today I want to specifically talk about the parent/child aspect of their relationship. I want to talk about a rule of Huggy’s that may not be best for Becky.

Like any decent parent, Bob obviously just wants what’s best for Becky. But sometimes what a parent or guardian thinks is best for the child, is not what is really best for them. For our favorite heroine and her sidekick/mentor, I think this is the case with their secret identities. Bob seems to be very strict on this subject, while Becky has shown a desire to share her secret with a select few people. Of course, Becky is protective of her identity too, but on more than one, on-screen, occasion she has wanted to share this secret with her best friends and family, while Bob continues to object to the idea. And there’s reason to believe this conversation comes up a lot more off-screen than we may have realized, which further brings into the question whether or not Bob’s perspective on the matter is the right one.

Let's take a look at some secret identity sharing (or almost sharing) moments, shall we?

The first incident was in WordGirl Makes a Mistake. Whilst feeling self-conscious about her mistake, Becky decides to confide in her dad and brother. Notice Bob’s reactions to this.

He abandons pizza. Bob. Abandons. Food. He never does that, even during the most crucial moments. At best he takes the food with him or scarfs it down before leaving. But he feels so strongly about this that he completely abandons his food.

Then he tries to discredit her in a panic. When she shares her secret with her family, he can’t look and once it’s all said and done, he looks very annoyed and disapproving. He doesn’t let up on this until he realizes neither Tim or Tj believe her.

Now let’s turn to Becky to see her perspective on the subject. Aside from the fact she was willing to tell her family, she states that she’s been “Holding this back for a long time…” clearly showing that she truly does want to tell them she’s WordGirl.

Next, we’ll examine The Good, the Bad and the Chucky, when Becky seriously considered telling Violet, and almost went through with it.

When the idea is brought up, Huggy immediately protests and is grumpy the rest of the episode. When Becky starts to tell Violet, Bob makes one last attempt to convince her not to. Becky doesn’t pay any attention to him and keeps talking, and Bob goes into full-blown panic. He even faints.

Again, compare this to Becky, who truly wanted—yearned — to tell Violet. Remember this episode defined yearn as being something stronger and deeper than a want.  Not to mention her reasoning says a lot about how much she wants this. “She’s my best friend, I tell her everything, and it would be such a relief to totally be myself around her.”

This episode also gives us some insight into how often this conversation comes up and how it usually plays out. When WordGirl first brings up the idea of telling Violet and Huggy objects to the idea, she frowns and rolls her eyes. She does this as though she’s heard this a thousand times and is tired of hearing it.

An even better episode to help us realize how this conversation goes is The Invasion of the Bunny Lovers. This is the episode where Scoops finds out Becky is WordGirl. Bob is under mind control the entire episode, and doesn’t find out about the incident until the end when Scoops calls Bob “Huggy.” The screen immediately shows WordGirl who looks extremely nervous and signals Scoops not to bring it up. 

Scoops doesn’t get the message and WordGirl then gives Bob a very nervous smile. This is similar to how a child acts when they are in huge trouble and want to either get on their parents’ good side or not even tell them to stay out of trouble. 

The next thing she does is fly away from Bob, again much like a child trying to avoid trouble.

After Huggy finds her, her expression quickly changes to a look of dread, like she’s about to get the lecture of a lifetime. Meanwhile, if we examine Huggy’s body language, he’s clearly mad and she certainly is getting the lecture of a lifetime.

Going back to my point about this being like a child in trouble with her parent, and how this shows us how the secret identity topic usually plays out, I see this whole interaction as being similar to family’s putting an emphasis on grades. Of course, the child wants good grades, but perhaps the parents are very strict about them, and when the child gets a less than satisfactory grade, she might try to hide it or wait for the right time to tell her parents, because she dreads the reaction they will inevitably have. The secret identity rule is such a strict one with little to no room for debate that Becky acted like a child with a bad grade when the secret got out.

And of course, this makes perfect sense. Becky was so young when she discovered her powers, she was at an age when most children want to show their parents every cool thing they can do. And at age 9-11, Becky has been shown to be very open with her parents, so of course she too would have wanted to share her abilities with her parents. But she clearly didn’t because…ya know, they don’t know about them. What would have stopped a censor-less toddler with not yet the brain capacity to think “maybe I shouldn’t tell mommy and daddy what I can do”? It was Bob.

Bob told her not to tell anyone from a very young age, and Becky listened to him because he was someone who loved her, took care of her and someone she trusted. But now she’s getting older and starting to think for herself and questioning whether Bob is right when he says “you can’t tell anybody you’re WordGirl.”

And maybe she’s right to question it.  There’s no doubt in my mind he’s just telling her she can’t tell because he believes it’s what’s best for her, but is it really what’s best for her? Granted, Bob probably has this rule so strict because the more people who know, the greater the odds a slip up could happen that lets the secret out to the world, which would undoubtedly be terrible. That and anyone who knows her secret would be worried about her in battles.

But is telling a few people worth the risk of all this happening? First, let’s look at how bad Becky wants this. “I’ve been holding this back for a long time” “I yearn to tell Violet I’m WordGirl.” Second, let’s remember why she wanted to tell the people she did. With Violet, it was because she was feeling guilty for not having told her and craved the ease for not having to hide herself from her best friend. And she told her family because she was having a hard time as WordGirl and her family started to notice.

Which leads me to my next point my most important point because this isn’t about what Becky wants. It’s about what she needs. In the case of her family, she needs to be able to go to the people who care about her and want to help her most. As much as Bob loves her and will do whatever he can to help her, he can’t solve every problem she has. Not to mention sometimes it’s not even that she needs their help and advice all the time, sometimes she might just need an ear to vent to that’s not Bob’s. And her family deserves to know what’s going on with their daughter. They deserve to know she’s worked up because she made a word mistake in battle, or that she’s acting rude because she’s been spending one on one time with Ms. Power. Her parents want to help her, but they obviously can’t if they’re not aware of that part of her life. And wouldn’t Becky’s life and crime fighting be easier if she didn’t have to lie to her parents to go do her job? Wouldn’t it be easier for her to say “I missed family dinner because I was fighting Two-Brains and the Energy Monster,” then to get punished for doing her job? I won’t even get into the fact that keeping secrets—that dictate a huge portion of your life—from your loving family is probably emotionally unhealthy.

As for her friendship with Violet: that had many problems that were because of the WordGirl secret. I won’t get too much into this here because one day I want to do a whole analysis on it, but in many episodes leading up to Rhyme and Reason, Becky and Violet were starting to have a rift wedged between them. And it always was because Becky had to leave to fight crime when Violet needed her. I’m not sure when these issues started, but if Becky had told Violet when she wanted to in The Good, the Bad and the Chucky, it likely would have gone differently than in Rhyme and Reason. This not only would have fixed a lot of problems in their friendship either before they started or before the problems had gotten bad, but also would have resulted in less drama. Most of Violet’s betrayed feelings were from the fact that Becky never told her, and she found out by accidentally photographing it. This would have saved Becky a lot of unnecessary heartbreak. Maybe not all of it, but a lot of it.

These are all fine reasons to tell the closest people in Becky’s life, but Bob’s perspective on this subject is still important too. More people knowing means the secret could get out easier, everyone who knows will be worried about her in battles and probably other things I’m not thinking of. The question is: Is it worth risking all that for the benefits of Becky’s friends and family knowing? There is not a definite, crystal clear right answer, it all depends on Becky and what’s right for her and her life, and I think as she gets older, she’ll start to question what the right answer for her is. Bob, however, is stubborn and I can’t see him changing his views on this subject very easily. I don’t want him to suddenly change is mind and let her tell whoever she wants, but I do think it’s important that he considers his perspective on the topic, might just be the wrong one. But I don’t know what it would take for him to consider that idea. I feel like it would have to be something extreme, like Becky having a mental breakdown from not being able to tell her parents things.

None the less I do think this conversation has been coming up more and more lately and will continue to be brought up more and more as Becky gets older and starts thinking more for herself.

[sidespromptblog]

Bottles: Part 2

Summary:  One day when going to check up on Logan, Patton spies bottles lining the logical side's room. Bottles of all various colors and sizes, Logan assures him that they are nothing, but coupled with Logan's odd recent behavior, is everything as it seems?

Part One

It took actual genuine effort for Logan to not scream out loud and subsequently give the others a heart attack while doing so.

His body felt like a spring that had been pushed down and confined to a tiny box as he curled up into himself on the floor, his teeth burrowed into the flesh of his arm biting down as he felt the scream bubbling up. The pain fortunately enough gave him something else to focus on rather than all of the lies that were burning his insides as his body shook like he was in negative degree weather. Everything felt jittery now, and at that moment the only thing that he felt that he could honestly do was lay there and hope that no one popped in on him and saw this monumental weakness that he was allowing himself at this moment.

At least I’m not crying. Logan bitterly thought to himself, even as the trembling continued he could at least be thankful for that small grace, he hadn’t completely hit rock bottom just yet.

It took far too long for Logan to get back up to his feet, it took him stumbling and nearly falling down to his knees again before he was finally able to get back up again, and even so his hands were shaking the entire time. He felt absolutely awful, like someone had opened up his chest and placed a lead weight inside before stitching him back up and leaving him to deal with it for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t be dealing with it for long though, that was a nice and comforting thought, because as soon as he could summon a bottle again he was going to, and he was going to seal away every single lie that had made the pain in his chest grow worse and worse. Then everything would be perfect, and he could continue to operate at perfect efficiency.

Looking in the mirror that was fixed to his door, Logan couldn’t help but to cringe at his own reflection. His hair, on top of other things, was once again a mess. On top of the fact that he looked like he had just gotten beat in the fact with a bag of flour after running several miles, given the pale sheen of his face and the cold sweat on his brow. Although he had been able to pick himself back up, and given enough time he’d most certainly be able to look presentable once again.

Sweeping his unruly and curly hair back and slicking it down with a modest amount of gel Logan leaned into his own reflection pinching one of his cheeks until a spot of bright red could be seen on his pale face. He tried to avoid looking into his eyes as he worked on himself, heaven knew that he looked absolutely dead inside.

“I’m...f- I hurt everywhere.” Logan tried to coach himself, it should have been simple to say it, to say I’m fine like he actually was fine and there was nothing wrong with him in the slightest. Yet, as simple as it should have been to get those words out, something else entirely left his lips. Without even thinking, Logan slapped his hand over his mouth, his wide eyes echoing the shock that he felt at that very moment.

No no no..this could not be happening to him.

“I’m-” Now before he could even start the word fine more brutal honesty slipped out, “I hate myself.”

Logan could help the words that he had blurted out, and this time the stinging his eyes became all too apparent as the full meaning of those words slammed into his chest, and the fact that it was true above all else hurt even more so. Hate was a strong word, a word that he usually tried to avoid using when it came to any of the others, however, when it came to himself...it was one that felt all too real for him. With no bottle to hold the lies, as well as the brutal truths that he couldn’t handle, he could no longer hide from any of this until it was fixed.

“Looogan!” Normally Logan would have felt a sharp tang of fear as Patton’s voice called his name from downstairs, he could hear the ting of worry in the moral side’s voice as he called up to him from the base of the stairs. “It’s been an hour, I’ve made lunch. Come on down!”

Oh dear…

What was he going to do? What was even supposed to do in a situation like this? It would upset Patton greatly to hear all of the things that Logan had kept buried away inside of him, and if..and if the other asked what the bottles were then Logan would have no choice but to tell him. He couldn’t lie until the bottle was fixed, and he didn’t have that time anymore, he had wasted it by sulking on the floor and losing himself to the few emotions that had entered him.

Weak. He scolded himself, as his eyes darted all around the bedroom looking for something, or anything to prevent the oncoming question that would come from Patton. Anything to prevent him from having to answer. His eyes trailed over everything, in his room, from the costumes he’d worn previously to his unicorn onesie, when he abruptly stopped at the Sherlock costume he’d worn once in front of Thomas.

Sherlock...a scarf!

He seized the article of clothing quickly wrapping it around his neck and mouth like he was a dying man wrapping a bandage around a bleeding wound. With little time to waste he snatched up his notebook as well as a pen, this could just work. Grasping it tightly he made his way to the door opening it with a quick jerk of his hand and nearly bumping into Patton the moment he went to step outside of his room.

Patton’s worried expression almost immediately melted into one of pure relief at the sight of Logan stepping out of his room, truth be told, Patton had thought that Logan was going to ask for a little while longer to work on whatever he had been scribbling before. Although that relief was soon scooted to the side as he spotted the familiar looking scarf hazardously wound around Logan’s neck and face, and he couldn’t help the tiny and yet teasing smile that curled onto his lips.

“What’s with the scarf Lo-berry? More cosplay?” He teased, just for an inkling of concern to leak into his chest as he watched Logan, rather than replying to him, started to scribble onto his notebook before showing him the words that he had written down.

“I accidentally inhaled something when messing with one of my experiments, my throat hurts. So I cannot talk.” Patton mumbled aloud, and a pout formed on his bottom lip before his eyes darted back up to Logan’s face. “Oh, Logan…” Patton muttered, his hand patting Logan’s cheek, before a warm and tender smile lit up his face. “I’ll make you some tea, come on.”

In the back of his mind, Logan could feel the pink bottle on one of his shelves shaking and rattling as soon as he felt Patton’s warm and soothing touch on his cheek, it felt perfect in every single way. Almost as if he could just sink into that warmth and never let himself come up for air, which was preposterous given that he specifically had that emotion locked up and for a good reason. So instead, he hastily patted the hand on his cheek nodding instead of opening his mouth and letting everything spill out, like a waterfall of word vomit.

He felt that pink bottle rattling again as soon as Patton cheerily took his hand, leading him down to the kitchen where he had made a bunch of tiny personal-sized pizzas that had faces on them, puppy faces to be exact.

Why did the moral side have to be so perfect in everything that he did? Instead of seriously considering that question, Logan sat at the breakfast bar, watching Patton warm the water before dipping a tea bag into it. His movements all exact and precise, as if Logan’s health was the exact reason he needed to be serious. The ridiculous thought almost made Logan laugh, except the thought of opening his mouth to make a single sound made him terrified.

That instead of a laugh leaving him, it would instead be a sob. So he kept quiet, he was at least good at that.

Tagged:

@ starryfirefliesbloggo

@ doodlerodoodlez

@goofigami

@seas-space-and-stardust

@blue-wolfbane

@estraevelyn

@ l0lli

@moonstonefox12

[chronic-doe]

The Dying Dreams

So before I post the story, I’d just like to say that I’ve contemplated doing this for a while...I write a lot of stories and I’d quickly like to thank my lovely friend @moonstrucklester for encouraging me to post. I got the inspiration for this story, which has some violence in and i will put trigger warnings so read them if you’re worried, from a writing prompt on Reddit from Reddit u/axmszr. *deep breath* here it is. 

I’m sitting on my sofa, shaking, because I had one of those dreams again last night. Now I know what I have to do, but in order for you to understand, I probably have to start from the beginning.

I grew up in London, in a noisy house. Mum always used to say that when I was born the student midwife took one look at me, screamed that I was cursed, and passed out. She liked telling that story to anyone that would listen, usually with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. To be honest, the poor midwife probably thought this because my oldest brother and dad had had a fist fight about a minute before my head popped out and I took my first breath. She probably meant I was cursed to grow up in a family that would fight when a new life was coming into the world. Mum usually left out the violence part to have a rant about the NHS.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to agree with this midwife, whether she was referring to my family or something more sinister. It all really revolves around dreams, and the first time it happened was when I was four and my neighbour died. I still remember the dream so clearly, the flashes, the colours, the noises. The rain.

The rain is falling hard, the music is playing loudly in my ears, and then tires screeching loud enough to distract me, a honk of a horn and a yell of “look out!” which makes me turn around in time to see a red blur as it hits me in the side with such force it knocks all the wind out of me. I’m flying through the air and land on top of my arm with my leg at an odd angle and I’m in so much pain I can barely see. The car drives straight off and people are yelling and someone is running towards me but I can’t see any more because there is so much blood all over my face and my eyes are closing and everything goes black.

I woke up screaming in my bed that night. My mum ran in and asked me what was wrong but I couldn’t tell her because I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t breathe because I thought there was still blood in my mouth. I was drenched in sweat but I thought that was because of the rain from the sky outside. My covers were tangled up and I screamed and thrashed so much that I ended up falling out of my bed and continued to scream. Mum just stood there, having no idea how to calm me down and she, and the entire household that I had woken up, tried everything but I had basically just been run over and couldn’t stop replaying it.

The next day, mum came in and told us about how our neighbour had been run over by a hit-and-run driver, driving a red car straight down the road without even stopping. It rained the entire day.

I was four then, so I didn’t really pay much attention to it. I think a child just dismisses things easily.

The next time it happened, it was my uncle. He drank too much, or that’s what mum said anyway. I was eight, and went to bed that night at a sleepover at a friend’s house, my tummy full of pizza and fizzy haribo sweets and my head full of ghost stories we had told each other. I drifted off to sleep easily, but the moment I closed my eyes it happened.

I tried to speak but my words wouldn’t form proper sentences. “Gi-me” I said, staring at my son who had a look of disgust on his face, “So you’re dying and you still want some more booze, eh dad?” He spat, his eyes narrowed. Oh that boy, if I had the energy, what I would do to him. But my brain wasn’t doing what I wanted it to. It felt like all my arms and legs were moving through toffee and my head felt so heavy it was like it was attached by a magnet to my bed. I was trapped in this coffin of a body I had destroyed all on my own. I know I had done that. My life wasted, for nothing.

And then he died swallowed by pity and guilt and self hatred that an eight year old had never felt nor could hope to even comprehend. And I lay there and I couldn’t move for what felt like hours, convinced I was still trapped in his body, silently crying. I was able to move when the tears escalated to hyperventilating as I tried to process what I had felt and I woke up all my friends at the sleepover. They all laughed and called me stupid, once they had gotten over the shock of being awoken by my screaming. Alice, my best friend, hugged me and wouldn’t let go until I had calmed down enough and was breathing normally again.

My mum got called but she couldn’t come and pick me up until the next day because she was out “drinking all night”; I heard my friend’s mother complaining about her. The next morning mum marched me out of the house, telling me that I shouldn’t be scaring my friends like that, and later that day we got a call from the hospital that my uncle had died. That Monday my friends stopped talking to me and in the playground I heard one telling another that I was a freak and made up stories for attention.

Years later, when I tried to think about the previous dreams, it dawned on me that the boy in the dream had been my older cousin, but I knew my uncle was dying so it didn’t necessarily mean anything. It was true that there was no way I could have predicted the dream I had had when I was four but I decided to forget about it, thinking I was being stupid.

After that, the dreams kept on happening and I probably should have paid more attention to them, but I was young and stupid and enough time passed between each one that I could dismiss it. At ten I dreamt about an elderly neighbour that mum had got me to sit with after school sometimes when I was small. He had a heart attack. He was found a few weeks later after his son went round to visit and didn’t find what he was expecting. Instead he found the rotting corpse of his emotionally distant father and a big inheritance cheque in the mail a few weeks after that.

At eleven, my mum gave birth to a baby that only lived for a few hours. That was the most bizarre dream and I only realised years later what it had been. It is confusing, being in the mind of a baby, and the thoughts are so primitive: can’t think, can’t see, can’t breathe. I couldn’t really describe to you that experience even if I tried.

I should have taken them all seriously, because at sixteen the worst dream I could have had, happened.

After the dreams, and the incident at the sleepover, I kept away from people, and people kept away from me. I had a few friends though, but my closest friend and the only person I ever really cared about was Alice. I would go round to her house after school and we would laugh about all the stupid girls in school and fantasise about life afterwards. Alice was like a sister to me, and her parents were like my family. Alice, with her brown eyes, and straight brown hair and pale skin.. she was all I had.

I will never forget the nights when I would stumble to her house, afraid to be at home because of some guy my mum had round. Alice was always there to comfort me. 

I went to bed one night, afraid as always that I would have one of my dreams but also quietly confident I wouldn’t because I hadn’t had one in a few years. But I did.

I couldn’t stop shaking as I looked in the mirror at myself. I was so ugly. I screamed and pounded the mirror as I stared at myself. This was it, I thought, today was the day. I felt my heart racing and I felt so much hatred for it; hatred for it pumping blood around my body despite me not wanting it to. I turned away from the mirror and walked out of my room, sobs making my shoulders shake as I threw on a coat, and a scarf. My mum screamed at me, asking me where I was going but I didn’t reply.

There was a motorway at the end of our road with a walk way over it and that is where I went, my shoes pounding the ground and my head clear for the first time in forever. No more fake smiles plastered my face, just a look of determination as the street lamps lit the way to my death place. I thought about my best friend, but she would be better off without me. Everyone would be better off without me. Then I reached the bridge and I slowly began to climb the steps, and with each step up my tears dried more and more because this is what I needed to do. I reached the top and misery drove me forwards as, without hesitation, I hurled myself over the edge. As I fell, all I could think before the end was: what have I done? Mum?

When I woke up, I knew it was Alice. I ran out of bed and I called her straight away. Of course I did, I wanted to check that she was okay; I was spooked but I still didn’t believe it. Alice told me she was fine and I foolishly believed her because she was the happiest person I knew. She wouldn’t kill herself, would she? All those feelings I had felt as ‘her’ in the dream were not hers. Yes, I had felt them myself, but not Alice. I am a person that doesn’t believe in the supernatural and scoffs at ghost stories or fortune tellers. But I did try again later that afternoon to suggest I come round and we have a movie marathon and again, she declined. I should have tried everything. I should have marched over there and refused to leave but I didn’t.

In the evening, I got a phone call from her mum and I knew what she was going to say before she said it. I could barely hear her sobs of despair because there was a loud ringing in my ears and I knew – from then on I knew – that I could no longer deny what these dreams were. I vowed that if I ever had a dream like this again, I would do anything in my power to save them.

And that brings me to my dream last night. I’m 21 now and haven’t had a dream like that since Alice. Though I have many nightmares about people dying, I can tell the difference between them and the real dreams; they are always so much more vivid.

Last night, I went to bed and finally fell asleep at 3am- which is nothing new, I haven’t properly slept in years- when I had a dream:

“I’m sorry, please don’t do this” I begged, staring up at the girl who’s eyes were like fire from the hatred I knew she felt towards me. She had a knife in my face and even though her hands were shaking, her voice was steady and calm.

“Why did you do that to me? Why did you hurt me? Why did you make me afraid?” she asked quietly,

“You don’t want to know” the girl put the knife up to my abdomen and I felt the point of it poke my flesh,

“Tell me” she growled,

“Your mum” I gulped, “your mum said you should be taught a lesson” and a look of comprehension spread over the girl’s face and she knew that I was telling the truth; because I was. Maybe she’ll go after her mum now, I thought, as the knife got released.

I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at her, but that must have been the wrong move. The girl was an animal. She gave me a look of pure loathing and I felt the cold metal being pushed into my stomach, and my breath left my body. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt in my life. I looked down at all the blood leaving my body and put my hand on the wound, as if it would make an ounce of difference. I looked back up at the girl, struck dumb and she looked just as shocked, all the anger leaving her.

She stood up, shaking, and started to run. The knife clattered to the floor. I tried to speak but blood was leaving me so quickly and all I could croak out was a weak “wait” before the world went black.

I’ve never seen a murder before, but that’s not what scared me. That girl, the one who stabbed the man, had my eyes and my hair and my face and my voice…

I looked across the kitchen at the knife that I had seen in the dream, it was the steak knife that I had bought the other day for a present, but maybe it had another job now. It was true, he had hurt me and had gotten away with it for all these years. Maybe he did deserve to die.

[oakpodcast]

Transmission 3 Transcript

New episode is live on Patreon. It is scheduled to release publicly at noon EST.

HOLLY:

If you're a new listener, make sure to start from the beginning.

MUSIC: "Solitude" by Muciojad

SOUND: SOS SOS SOS SOS

HOLLY:

This is Holly, broadcasting on all frequencies using protocol: MINISTER DELTA. This transmission is for Oak. All others, please disregard.

SOUND:  ...-- .-- .. .. .--- .-.

Some Things

SOUND: Nature sounds, at a park

HOLLY:

Some things you might not know. Or maybe you do, because you always seem to know everything.

Other than time, there's no way to get waterproof mascara off that doesn't cost money. At least, not that I've figured out yet. That was a long first week.

In Alabama, spring is yellow. I finally understand what "allergies" are. (sniffs)

The library will let you camp out all day with a book, library card or not.

People get a little weird when they see you running MS-DOS on a library computer, so don't expect to get away with anything illegal that way.

When the library's closed, Walmart and McDonald's employees have  a lot bigger things to worry about than you using their washroom.

People are more likely to give you money when you're holding a stray.

No one will usually stop you from showering at a public pool.

The best way to steal a towel is to walk right into a hotel around lunchtime and just take one off a cart.

Sleeping unprotected and vulnerable outside is a terrible idea. But at least you'll have good company from the other traumatized military types.

And finally, pizza is... amazing. 

Rambling

SOUND:  ... -. / .- .. -.. .- -.- --. -- .. .-.-.-

Holly:

Yes, that's right. I'm eating pizza during passover. It's not even thin crust. Not that that would make a difference, I don't think, but... you know.

HOLLY:

I don't know why I care? It's been almost fifteen years since you or I celebrated any sort of holiday like that.

HOLLY:

Besides, I feel like this past month is the closest I've ever been to wandering around a desert, so... I think that counts for something.

HOLLY:

So yes. Pizza during passover.

HOLLY:

Admittedly, pizza won't help my current digestive issues at ALL, but I suppose fewer washroom trips are ideal when you don't have a place to call home. It's worth it.

HOLLY:

We should have eaten pizza more often. We should have eaten anything good together more often.

HOLLY:

When I see you again, I'm going to eat every single meal with you.

HOLLY:

It's going to be real food, too. No more chocolate milk and smoothies for breakfast because we can't be bothered to cook. No more inhaling sandwiches at 3 p.m. because we forgot to eat lunch. And no more alcohol for dinner because we have stressful jobs. We can't use that as an excuse forever.

HOLLY:

Mostly, I think I got pizza because I wanted it to feel like hockey night—like my body hurts like this because we went on a long run together, not because I've been sleeping on benches and in chairs for the past month.

HOLLY:

And it's not like anything else sounded good. Well, a raw, bloody steak always sounds good lately, but that's not healthy. Or cheap. Unfortunately. Anyway...

HOLLY:

(Alarmed) I'm probably just being paranoid, but an SUV parked at my three o'clock right after I got here, and no one's gotten out yet. It's probably nothing, but I'm going to move anyway.

SOUND: All noise stops for a moment, then resumes.

SOUND:  -- .. .. .-

Sitrep

HOLLY:

Sitrep. I'm at a local park today. I've been trying to find an abandoned house to stay in, but it's not as easy as it sounds. It doesn't help that I get so nervous about breaking the law. 

HOLLY:

It's April 15—a nice Saturday afternoon during the playoffs. The Sens will hopefully beat the Bruins in a few hours, but either way, it should be a nice distraction.

HOLLY:

I don't think Ottawa will take the cup or even the Eastern conference, but I think they have a shot at winning the Atlantic division.

HOLLY:

You said you'd be back in time to watch the playoffs with me. That was worst-case scenario, remember?

HOLLY AS OAK: 

Don't worry, relax! I'm gonna try to be back before the 19th so I don't miss out on any wild birthday festivities. I mean, Valentine's day is more likely, but I'll try to be back before then.

HOLLY AS OAK:

If they try to make me miss being with you for the tribunal, or even worse, the playoffs, I'll just quit.

HOLLY:

Now that I think about it, that was a terrible joke. Oh well.

HOLLY:

I'm really not very good at imitating you. Did you at least get a good laugh out of my secure transmission last week? I bet you did.

SOUND:  ..... ----- ----- --..--

Podcasts

HOLLY:

I've listened to so many great podcasts recently. Rover Red is an interesting choose-your-own-adventure story. It's in the dystopian young adult vein, and it's pretty creepy.

HOLLY:

Lake Clarity is also about teenagers, but it's a modern horror story. Who doesn't love creepy camp stories? Just... maybe don't listen to it when you're going to spending a lot of time in nature. Oops.

HOLLY:

I'm good. I only barely peed myself over that fox last night (laughing).

SOUND:  ... --.- -.. -- .-. --- -. --.- ... .-.-.-

Thank You

HOLLY:

A huge thank you to Kim and Jody for pledging $10 per broadcast. 

HOLLY:

You know, my girlfriend in uni was named Jody. I say that like I've had a bunch of girlfriends. (laughs)

HOLLY:

Anyway, Jody was incredibly hot and incredibly nice. We only parted ways because I was headed to far-off places for adventure and military training and other B.S. like that.

HOLLY:

So, if you're the same Jody who used to be into... extremely 'creative erotica,' uh... hi? (Laughs) But you're probably a different Jody, in which case, disregard my awkwardness. I appreciate your support either way.

SOUND:  --- -.- .. -.. .-. ..

Inventory

HOLLY:

Inventory since last transmission: One pack of baby wipes, some makeup, a pair of tweezers because suddenly I'm really furry, one Holiday Inn towel, one Chromebook in... we'll be generous and call it "fair" condition, and roughly $12 in cash, USD.

HOLLY:

Hm, does the cat count as inventory?

HOLLY:

I can't really claim ownership of her; we don't have that kind of relationship, but I named her anyway. (Cat purring) Say hello to General Leia Janeway.

HOLLY:

This cat and I have a pretty good arrangement worked out. I feed her plain cheeseburgers or the cheese from my pizza, as well as a warm, cozy lap to sleep on, and she looks extra cute so people give me more money. Then she wanders off to do her thing with whomever, and I sleep at the shelter if I'm lucky, and we meet back up again later.

SOUND:  -.. .- ...- --. .-. ..

Makeup

HOLLY:

Anyway. Cheap makeup. It's funny how often camouflage involves smearing something on your face. Mud, camo paint, foundation... it's kind of all the same to me.

HOLLY:

You're probably cringing so hard right now, picturing me doing my own makeup. This cheap sponge thing is nowhere near as good as yours, and a flickering fluorescent light doesn't compare to your vanity back home. Ugh, just putting makeup on myself is a nightmare.

HOLLY:

I can't believe the list of things I took for granted now includes you dabbing makeup on me before parties and annual evaluations. I used to complain so much. And now I'd give anything for you to come do my eyebrows again.

HOLLY:

I spent a dollar more to get the foundation that clears breakouts. Was that frivolous of me? Ugh, probably. My face has just been so aggravated since you left. I thought it was stress, but... (sighs)

Holly:

I decided there was no point in messing with eye makeup. It's a bitch to put on, it's a bitch to get off, and no one really looks that closely, I don't think. Especially not if you're wearing glasses.

HOLLY:

A scarf would help, too. Between that and the Chromebook, I could get away with wearing pretty much anything and just look like an especially worn-out doctoral student. But the scarf is pretty low on my list of financial priorities right now. If I can't steal one from you like usual, I'm not going to bother.

HOLLY:

So much of my life has been spent undercover as a normal person. Ever since we joined the military, both of us have had to... look, you make a really good Marine, surprisingly, but I'm not cut out for it. I never was.

HOLLY:

I hate running laps. I hate doing pushups. I hate doing pull-ups. And pretending to be normal just really, really wears me down.

HOLLY:

Being able to work part time... that was ideal. I could have not worked at all, but I liked working with you. Besides, I wouldn't have felt right mooching off you for my entire life, and the only alternative to that is mooching off Mom and Dad, and that comes with too many strings. Like having to talk to them, for starters.

SOUND:  --.- .. ---...

Coffee

HOLLY:

I've never understood how you do it. Act normal, I mean. I've watched you stir speed into an iced coffee bigger than our coffee maker and then go to work, like it's business as usual. You flew right under everyone's radar. Maybe you spoke a little too fast sometimes, but I was always the one with "issues." Not you. 

HOLLY:

Ugh, I distracted myself thinking about coffee. Iced coffee. 

HOLLY:

I know I shouldn't be drinking coffee at all right now, just in case. I'm just so exhausted all the time. It's hard to keep an eye out when they keep closing without my permission.

SOUND:  -. --- .. --.- -.. ... --. -. --

Attraction

HOLLY:

So, as previously mentioned, I got the funds for a Chromebook off Craigslist. 

HOLLY:

You probably would have pick-pocketed someone your first day here or... just talked them into giving you their wallet, but I've never been good at those things.

HOLLY:

Somehow, I don't think the girl voted "Most likely to die in a hilarious freak accident" and "Most likely to become a serial killer" is the best person for stealth or charisma.

HOLLY:

That SUV is back. It's probably just people playing Pokemon Go, but I'm going to relocate again.

SOUND: All noise stops then resumes

HOLLY:

Apparently, a relatively attractive woman holding a sign that says, "Hungry veteran, please help" will attract all kinds of interesting job prospects.

HOLLY:

I've never really thought about the word "attractive" before. It's always used as a compliment. But it's so obvious now that I'm looking at it in my head...

HOLLY:

Attract...ive. Attractive.

HOLLY:

An adjective to describe someone who magnetically attracts all kinds of strange and unwanted bullshit.

HOLLY:

I've honestly never considered myself attractive. I'm not fishing for compliments there. I mean I literally get surprised by my reflection sometimes, as in, I get surprised by having a reflection. 

HOLLY:

The idea that strangers find me attractive confuses me. I'm an autistic 32-year-old who's never been independent in any sense of the word. And right now I'm homeless. Not exactly my definition of a catch.

SOUND:  .-. -.-- .-.. ..- --. -. .-. --. .-.

Objective

HOLLY:

Do you remember that time you saved the mission by seducing... I think she was a diplomat? (Laughs) Okay, I have to be more specific. The one in Dubai, remember?

HOLLY:

You and I have always had a relationship like me and this cat. You come and go as you please, and I wait around for you to come back.

HOLLY:

After that diplomat, you kept asking if I was secretly upset over what happened. If I was... jealous. You didn't believe me, but I really wasn't. Maybe I would have been a little upset about it if we'd failed our objective, but we didn't.

HOLLY:

Likewise, maybe I would be upset right now if I'd failed my own objective... but I didn't. I have pizza and a Chromebook, and I might get an iced coffee later, and I feel too relieved to feel anything else.

HOLLY:

​Things are good, all things considered. I'm totally fine.

SOUND:  -.. .-. -.. --- .-.-.-

Dissociation

HOLLY:

Okay, that's sort of a lie. I'm one giant ping-pong machine of emotions lately, and I hate it.

HOLLY:

I am relieved. But I'm also zoning out a lot. I'm ridiculously paranoid. And my nightmares are worse than ever now.

HOLLY:

I probably should have listened to Evergreen and gone to counseling when I had the chance. I should have taken care of a lot of medical things when I had the chance. But something something about hindsight, right?

SOUND:  .-.. -.. -.-- / -.. -... -... .. --- ... .-.-.-

Options

HOLLY:

Anyway. All that to say that I figured something important out last night.

HOLLY:

Either you're incapable of helping me, or you're an even better actor than I thought.

HOLLY:

Because I might not care what you do for a mission, but you care a lot.

HOLLY:

So. Option one, you're dead.

HOLLY:

Option two, you're in prison somewhere.

HOLLY:

Option three, you're some kind of sadistic, soul-less asshole capable of completely fooling me for years, if not decades.

HOLLY:

I think option three is the least likely. It's not that I can't see you running a long con like that on someone. Because I can. You'd be really good at it. I just can't imagine you running it on me.

HOLLY:

Option one... It seems like the most likely possibility. If I had to guess for someone else, I'd pick that one.

HOLLY:

But it just doesn't feel right. I've always known when something was wrong with you before. I have this nagging feeling that if you were actually dead, I'd know.

HOLLY:

And like I've said before, I can't think like that. Because if you are dead, you'd probably want me to join you. And don't get me wrong, normally I'd be completely on board.

HOLLY:

Which... is not the most healthy mindset, but I never said it was.

HOLLY:

But things are complicated now. There's potentially a lot more at stake than just my life. Things that might not come to fruition anyway. But definitely not if I die.

HOLLY:

I don't know how I feel about anything. I want completely contradictory things and I don't know what to do.

HOLLY:

And honestly, fuck you! You don't get to do something stupid and get yourself killed and then expect me to off myself too just so you can have company. It doesn't work like that! I mean, it used to, but not anymore. You should have planned better. Asshole.

SOUND: Holly's phone ringing

HOLLY:

Oh shit, how do I—

SOUND: Ringing stops

HOLLY:

Oh. Apparently not like that. 

HOLLY:

Anyway. For now, I'm going to assume you did something stupid and got yourself arrested—

Phonecall

SOUND: Phone ringing

HOLLY:

Hello?

GENERAL WILLARD:

Hello, Holly. 

HOLLY:

(Gasps softly)

GENERAL WILLARD:

We need to talk. Don't hang up—it's about Oak.

[daniellethamasa]

Hey all, Dani here.

So you might be asking, “hey Dani, wasn’t Gen Con at the beginning of the month? Why do a wrap up now?” Well, I had one of my blog buddies say she would love to read about my time at Gen Con, especially as she wants to start trying to diversify her conventions, but she also wanted more information first.

Plus, when you get a little removed from an event (or a book/movie/etc), it is easier to distance yourself from any super happy or super upset feelings you might have had at the time, and you can write a more factual and balanced review of everything. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Gen Con is a gaming convention, and it features hundreds of game developers and companies, as well as business that sell game accessories. Now when I say gaming convention, the easy assumption is that I am talking about video games, but I don’t think I have seen any sort of video or console type game there. No, this is a gaming convention for tabletop gaming, which means board games, card games, dice games, and tabletop RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons.

This year was the 51st Gen Con and it was even bigger than the previous year. The photos don’t even come close to showing how large or crowded this convention is, because there are just so many wonderful geeks in the world, and events like this really help you to see how not alone in the world you are. It is currently held in Indianapolis, Indiana, and it is an amazing experience. The convention itself takes up the entire Indiana Convention Center, plus they have also spread out into several of the nearby hotels, and Lucas Oil Stadium (which is the arena where the local NFL team, the Indianapolis Colts, are based). What I love about having part of Gen Con in the football stadium is that they house the gaming library there, and if you have purchased a pass to use the library, then you can go there 24 hours a day through the four day convention and borrow a game to play. Yes, a bunch of lovely geeks swarm through this holy house of jock-dom for four whole days.

We actually went to Indianapolis a day early, on August 1st, so we wouldn’t have to wake up at 5am the next day to make the three hour drive. It ended up being the best decision we could have made. We were able to pick up all of our tickets that day, and also just relax a bit. Okay, so we also went to an Irish pub (O’Reilly’s Irish Pub) for my birthday, which then turned into the Irish pub and then a Scottish pub (MacNiven’s). So I had a Shepard’s Pie, and then we had bread pudding for dessert. At the Scottish pub we had Scotch Eggs. Then we went to a comic book store (Downtown Comics) too, so naturally I picked up a few things.

And that’s just all the fun from the day before the convention. Now let’s get to the actual first day of Gen Con. It was a mad house, and we went straight for the Critical Role booth, because there was some cool merchandise that we were hoping to get, and we waited for a good half-hour or so to actually make it to the booth. But I ended up with dice and shirts and even a map for the current campaign, so I am super pleased.

I’m not going to lie guys…we spent most of our money on day one. There are just so many cool games and accessories and costume pieces. It is a geek wonderland. The first day of the convention was also a cool day because we got to meet Joe Mangianello. Now most people will probably recognize Joe from being in the show True Blood, or possibly from the Magic Mike movies. What you may not know is that he is a massive geek, loves D&D, and actually has a really cool gaming dungeon in his home. We waited for almost an hour to meet him, but it was totally worth the wait…and I got him to sign my Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition Player’s Handbook, so that is also pretty awesome. Oh, and the game pictured below is A Song of Ice and Fire, and it is sort of a battlefield strategy game based on Game of Thrones. We watched it being playtested and it seemed pretty interesting. Of course neither my fiance nor our other buddy who went with us has seen the show (or read the books) so it was just a cool looking game to them.

Day two of the convention we spent a lot of time just running around and checking out some of the games. At most of the game developer booths, you can sit down and play the game before you buy it. Okay well if it is a shorter game you can play through the whole game, but longer games they pretty much prefer you to just play a few rounds to get an idea of how the game works. There are a lot of other people around who would also like to try playing the games. The highlight for day two of the convention for us was actually that evening after the convention center closed. We met up with the owners of our hometown game store and they actually bought us dinner at this bar (The Yard House). My fiance and I run a couple D&D campaigns for them and they wanted to thank us for everything we’ve done for the store. Free food is definitely the way to do that. But after that, we had tickets to go see Critical Role live. It was my second time going, but my fiance’s first, and I was so glad I got to share the experience with him. Oh, and there was a surprise guest star for the episode of Critical Role…Khary Payton, an actor some people may recognize from the Walking Dead.

We had an extremely lazy day for day three of the convention. Critical Role Live ended around 1 am, and then we had to walk back to the parking garage where our car was parked (only to discover that the parking garage had closed for the night, so we had to run around to figure out who to contact to get to our car). By the time we made it back to the hotel we were staying at, it was around 2:30 am. Because we were also low on spending money, we just decided to hang out at the hotel, enjoy the pool, watch some TV, and play some of the games we had purchased. The only convention event we had on our schedule for the day was going to Dungeon Master, which is a live interactive show. It ended up being a very entertaining show, but the real reason I got tickets for this particular show was that it was being opened with a concert by The Library Bards, and they are a geek parody band who makes covers of Top 40 hits by making them into geeky songs–for example “Zombie” by the Cranberries becomes a song about Deadpool and Harley Quinn cosplayers called “Black and Red”, and Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off” becomes a LOTR/Hobbit song called “Gandalf.”

Finally, we made it to day four, the last day of the convention. We played a couple more games, and made a couple more purchases with the little spending money we had left. I will be completely honest everyone. I hate the last day of a convention. The last day means that I have to go home and return to my regular day-to-day schedule. It means leaving a place where I am surrounded by thousands of people who like a lot of the same stuff I do, and going back to a place where only a small percentage of people actually understand me. Leaving a convention after having such a great time is always difficult. But on our way back to our car before the three hour drive back home, I decided that we needed to get something to eat, and after walking past this pizza shop over a dozen times, we finally stopped into Giordano’s to get some Chicago Style Deep Dish pizzas.

I guess I should talk about this last picture. There are a lot of booths at Gen Con that give out these little ribbons that you can attach to your convention badge. For many attendees at the convention it becomes a scavenger hunt to collect as many as possible. I have seen people with enough ribbons hanging from their badge to make a long scarf or sash. It is impressive. We only went to Gen Con for one day in 2017, so I think we got one or two ribbons. Obviously this year I did much better, but I’m still hoping for a more impressive collection next year.

Next year I also plan to attend a few panels and/or workshops, because we didn’t really do that this year. There is a whole section of the convention that is a Writer’s Showcase, and they have some great industry professionals there to hold classes on worldbuilding or magic or editing, etc. The guests of honor this year were the duo behind S.A. Corey, author of The Expanse series. Previous years have had Patrick Rothfuss in attendance. Margaret Weis was there this year as well. So next year I definitely want to spend a little more time in the bookish side of Gen Con–though I did walk through that entire area on the show floor, and I will show off everything I purchased in my August Wrap-Up post.

Wow, okay, this post got pretty long. I hope you all enjoyed this look into our time at Gen Con. If you want me to talk more specifically on the games that we playtested and/or purchased, let me know. Because we found quite a few really fun games, and I like talking about more than just books. I’m your average geeky girl, with many geek hobbies.

Anyway, that’s all for today, and I will be back soon with more bookish content.

Gen Con Wrap Up Hey all, Dani here. So you might be asking, "hey Dani, wasn't Gen Con at the beginning of the month?

[95liners3rdmember]

Worth It

Chapter Seven: Visitor

Word Count: 4683

Chapter Six: Talk It Out

I woke up this morning before the sun even thought about rising, rushing around my apartment to get everything ready for my sister’s arrival. Yesterday I avoided my phone like the black plague while I danced myself into exhaustion. Nikole has texted me almost twenty times trying to get my attention, this morning I regretted not looking at them before. I knew that I should’ve been more careful yesterday. There’s a few pictures circling online, mostly on Twitter, of the members entering the restaurant last night but the one that gets my attention is the one of all of us leaving the room. My face is hidden behind my scarf and hair, you can clearly see that I’m standing between Namjoon and Jimin since they opted out of wearing a mask after dinner. The comments range anywhere from sweet to malicious. I can’t even lie, this morning a few frustrated tears slipped down my face in the shower. Bang PD knew that we were going out to eat so I won’t get into too much trouble but the last thing I wanted was to be put out there publically.

That’s the reason why I asked Jimin for a rain check before driving to the airport. Another photo is the last thing we all need. Namjoon warned me that there would be a chance of this happening but I really didn’t believe him. I’m the choreographer, I’m the behind the scenes person. In reality I should’ve known better.

Parking my car, the door slams shut louder than I thought as I walked away. The airport is packed as I find my way to the arrival area for her flight. There’s still a few minutes before she’s able to exit the plane and claim her luggage so she can go through the customs process but I can’t help but bounce on the balls of my feet. Genuine excitement and joy rushes through my veins as others start to walk through the hallway. Standing on my tiptoes I spot her in the back of the line, her hand starts waving chaotically as she breaks free. Running up to meet her, I grab one her bags before latching onto her in a vice grip. Tears spring to my eyes as I feel her return the hug with just as much force.

“I can’t believe that I’m here!” Natalie’s voice is filled with a childlike wonder that I almost missed the fact that she’s speaking fluently in Korean. Breaking away from her my eyes widen and she gives me a shit eating grin before grabbing her suitcase, I grab her second bag before we begin our short journey to the car.

“I see that you’ve worked on your Korean more. I’m guessing Nikole’s improved too.” Gently elbowing her side, I direct her towards the exit closest to the parking lot.

“We both knew that if we were to come visit, we’d need to use it more than English. But I can’t lie it feels weird. I’m afraid that I’ll intertwine the two.” I can relate more than anything. Last week during a meeting I accidently let an English word slip but everyone was understanding and brushed it off. It’s going to be strange when I go back to the states, no doubt my grandmother will pick at me if I slip out a Korean word or phrase.

“Don’t worry I still do it too. But it gets better over time. At the apartment we can speak in English if it’s easier for you.” Smiling I unlock the car and help her load the luggage into the back. Nat seems antsy as she slides into the passenger seat. She’s been sitting down for close to 24 hours, of course she wants to get out and walk around.

As I pull out of the parking lot, the speakers in my car starts to ring from an incoming call. Absentmindedly I hit the answer button. Natalie zips her lips and leans back into the chair.

“Hello?”

There’s a lot of background noise before a loud shh echoes through the speaker.

“Hi y/n! Have you picked up Natalie from the airport yet?” Hoseok’s voice filters through the speakers and from the corner of my eye I can see the look of complete shock take over her expression. Her jaw has dropped almost to her chest and her eyes are bulging out, almost cartoon like. Snickering I turn my full attention back to the road ahead of me.

“I just picked her up. Is everything okay? Normally everyone is preoccupied with personal things on Sunday.”

“Everything is fine. I just wanted to check in, I knew that the airport can be a little hectic. Have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

With that the call ends and I can feel how Natalie is jumping in her seat. Opening my mouth to speak seems to break the silence as she starts to ask a million questions jumbled into one long sentence.

“Was that j-hope? Why was he calling to check on you? How does he know my name? Is he as sunshiney in person as in the media? What’s it like dancing with him?”

Shaking my head as I try to comprehend everything she just threw at me, I reach across and plant my hand firmly over her mouth to stop the word vomit. Sighing I brake as the traffic around us seems to stop for a moment. Turning my attention to her, I shrug as I remove my hand just in time for the car in front to move.

The rest of the ride is silent, almost too silent. Sneaking a peak at Natalie, I see that her face is glued on the window taking in the views of the city. My chest warms with love. She’s dreamed of coming here for so long and I’m beyond over the moon that I was able to make it happen for her. Smiling to myself I turn down the final street before pulling into the buildings parking lot. The way her snaps to me and the smile on her face reminds me of a puppy realizing their human is home.

“Come on kiddo. I know that flight took a lot out of you.”

“Screw jet lag. I’m in Seoul! Literally the place I’ve always dreamed of going. I want to go out.”

“Natalie I still have work in the morning. It’s already getting close to dinner time here.”

The disappointment spreads on her face as I turn the car off. I warned her that just because she’s visiting doesn’t mean I stop working or change my schedule. I’ve already pulled enough strings for her, strings I don’t even really have. My thank you card to Band PD will be a mile long next week. Popping the trunk I grab both of her bags and sling my purse on my back. Natalie turns in place, taking in a deep breath that she releases with a dramatic sigh. Rolling my eyes I motion towards the building. She takes off and I have to run with full arms behind her.

Good lord, I'm going to have my hands full this week.

The normally short elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as my sister bounces up and down in anticipation. Even though she seems so excited I can tell that she’s wiped out. She looks like I did on my first day except she’s better dressed. It’s like she took a page from BTS’s airport fashion. Well more like Yoongi oppa’s, all black but it fits her personal style.

The doors open slowly and I beat her out first to lead the way to my door. Fishing for my keys I hear hushed whispers and bumping. It could be my neighbors for all I know. Everyone around me is pretty hermit like, they tend to keep to themselves.

“What do you want to do for dinner Nat?”

Pushing open the door I shuffle in, not paying attention to my surroundings. I really need to work on that.

“Whatever you- AH!”

Snapping my head up at her scream I watch as the lights flicker on and all seven members are gathered around the bar top. Pizza and snacks covering the counter and huge smiles spreading on their faces.

“Surprise!” Hoseok’s voice fills the entire apartment as I snap my head back and forth between them and my sister. She’s completely frozen. Her eyes are wide with tears building up and her jaw hanging open. Great, they’ve broken my sister. Better yet how did they get into my apartment?

Dropping the handles of the bags I cross my arms in front of my chest and suck a deep breath in.

“How?” I’m flabbergasted at the small shrug and smirk Namjoon gives me.

“I have my ways.” Namjoon says before moving over to give me a side hug. Pushing him away playfully I shake my head as I step in front of Natalie. Her eyes look up to me with tears threatening to spill. Pulling her into a tight hug I can’t help but laugh.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to meet them. How about you go shower and clean up real quick? I know you’ll feel better after.” I keep my voice soft, as soft as the nod of agreement I get. Releasing her slowly I turn my head and motioned for them to move to the living room. They shuffle silently as I show her to the bedroom and give her a spare towel. Once she was in the safety of my room the tears fell. She’s sleep deprived and overwhelmed, I understand exactly how she’s feeling. Pulling her into another quick hug I exit to give her a little privacy.

The looks I get when I come back out are heartbreaking. They all look like they’re about to be scolded. It makes my chest tighten as tears build up in the corner of my eyes. This all seems like a dream honestly.

“Thank you.” It’s all I can manage to say as I join them on the couch. Kicking off my shoes, I bend down and move them behind the couch. Beside me I see Jimin scowling just a bit before he shakes it off and the smile returns.

“It was Hobi hyung’s idea. We just made it happen.” Jungkook flashes his bunny smile before grabbing the PlayStation remote.

“Is she okay? I didn’t plan on making her cry.” Hoseok’s voice cracks which makes me sit straight up and look him in the eyes with a softenness I don’t think ive ever used on someone besides family.

“She’s overjoyed. I think once she comes out of that door she will be full of energy and smiles. Trust me Hobi oppa you made her the happiest just by being yourself. This was too kind.” The smile that cracks on his face causes mine to scrunch in confusion. What? Did I say something wrong?

“You called me Hobi oppa. Finally! We’re past Hoseok!” Nothing prepares me for the next surprise, Hoseok oh I mean Hobi jumps up and pulls me into a spine breaking hug. This must be what it’s like having an older brother.  

“You’re crushing me…” Being dramatic I smack at him as he sits back down, I fall back and rest my head against the back of the couch. Lifting my legs up to rest of the coffee table I feel my calf start to cramp up. Of course the one day I skip out on my potassium and water my body starts to react. Leaning down I start to rub out the knot, it must’ve caught Jimin’s attention because the next thing I know his hands smack mine away and he adds more pressure.

“I...got it Jimin. Don’t worry about it.” Wincing at the pressure he applies to my muscle, his hands freeze at my reaction.

“Occupational hazard when you dance. Did you go to the studio yesterday?” His eyes narrow as he silently interrogates me. There’s no use in hiding it.

“I was in my office most of yesterday working a few things out. Guess I didn’t drink enough water.” Heat creeps to my face at how unusually normal this feels. Pulling my legs back to my chest I offer Jimin a quick smile before I look away at the tv. After Friday’s slip up there’s no way I can relax around them outside of this building and the company. The last thing I need is for the fans or media to harass me or worse my family.

The living room is filled with laughter and conversation. It’s strange at how calm and normal this feels, being surrounded by all of them. Because in all reality I haven’t known them that long, well all except Namjoon. Natalie is about to be a completely different story here in about ten minutes when she comes back out. There’s no way to tell how she’s going to react. Letting out a short laugh at Jin’s loss to Jungkook, I pull my tired body up from the couch and into the kitchen. The pizza calls my name as I grab a slice and take a large bite, keeping it locked in place so my hands are free. Walking around the kitchen I start to pour myself a drink, turning on my heels I almost smack right into Jimin.

I’m a walking hazard when it comes to them. I barely stop myself in time, barely keeping the water from pouring all over his shirt. Blushing like a mad person since I have a slice of pizza hanging from my mouth like a rabid animal, my body freezes. Jimin just laughs full heartedly at my current state, he waves his hand in front of my face to break my dazed state. Shaking reach up with a free hand, I release the slice and start to babble.

“I’m so sorry! I really need to start being more careful.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just water.”

Someone clears their throat and my attention snaps back to my sister. Natalie looks recharged but there’s still a pink ring to her nose from crying. Sending her a sweet smile, Jimin beats me to her and goes straight to her. He extends his hand towards her, which she accepts happily and shakes it.

“Nice to meet you Natalie. Y/n has spoken a lot about you.”

“I could say the same about you Jimin.” He misses the underlying meaning but that doesn’t stop me from shooting her a death glare. Tonight might be the night I die of embarrassment.

“I’m guessing you were the one who packed the pictures.” Fuck. The way Natalie’s eyes move over to me with a glint of mischief makes my stomach churn.

“Guilty. I figured that my sweet elder sister would like to have a piece of home.” Rolling my eyes, I rush out the kitchen and rejoin the others on the couch. This time I pick up the abandoned controller from the table. Jungkook seems way more interested as he sits on the edge of the couch.

“Are you ready to get your butt kicked noona?” The cockiness in his voice makes me feel even more competitive, trying to take my mind and ears off of the conversation that Jimin, my sister and the newly acquainted Taehyung are having.

“Game on.” Setting my pizza on top of my glass, I get a few weird looks from Jin and Yoongi oppa but shrugging them off I get ready for a quick match in Mortal Kombat.

“Hi everyone I’m Natalie, but I guess you already knew that.” Natalie rubs the back of her neck as she tries to sneak her way onto the couch, squeezing herself between Namjoon and I. From the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of the smirk she flashes to Namjoon. Those two are worse actors than I imagined. By the end of the week they are going to expose everything ...fantastic.

“Earth to y/n, did you forget you were playing against JK?” Jin’s high pitched laugh causes me to let out a little burst of laughter just as Jungkook finishes my character off. Shrugging my shoulders, I toss the controller onto the coffee table and nudge my sister. Taehyung takes the empty controller before he jumps off the couch to sit on the floor in front of us. His head hits my knees as he leans back, bumping my knee I let out a slight hiss but it doesn’t make him move. I guess he’s one of the cuddly ones in the group. Smiling to myself, I fish out my phone from my back pocket to scan through my emails.

The Monday schedule pops up and I can’t help but laugh loudly. Natalie looks over at my screen and she can’t help but laugh even harder. Looks like tomorrow is going to be a really fun day.

“I hope you call get a good night’s sleep. After my meeting tomorrow, all seven of you are mine for the day.”

All the chatter and laughter is silenced. I’m honestly scared at how quiet they are, did they stop working? Looking around the room, I watch as they all pull out their own phones and scroll through their schedules. Hobi oppa seems excited and so does Jimin, but everyone else seems to scowl or let out a huff of defeat. Yoongi oppa’s is the best reaction though. I can see that he’s trying his hardest on figuring out a way to get out halfway through the practice. He’ll try to claim that there’s studio work to do.

“Don’t even think about it oppa. It will be fun! I know that you’ve missed practices with me.” Smirking during my sentence I catch the eye roll as he clicks his phone off before closing his eyes.

“Then I suggest we help y/n and Natalie clean up after this game and head upstairs. We need to get a lot of rest before tomorrow.” Namjoon clears his throat as he makes his way into the kitchen. The ever wise leader, wiggling my feet I jump up to follow him.

“You okay Joon?” I whisper under my breath as I start to clean up beside him.

“Yeah...when’s Nikole coming to visit?” The tone in his voice makes me choke on my own spit. It’s almost like he’s disappointed that I didn’t fly both of them out. Rolling my eyes I continue to clean up.

“Not sure. She’s working on finding an internship right now. I know for sure that she will be at a concert in the states.”

“How?” I seem to peak his interest as he turns to me looking like a starstruck child.

“I’ve already gotten their tickets. There’s some perks for working for you guys.” There’s a lot of perks for work with and for BigHit. I wouldn’t change any of it for the world at this point. I’m just afraid of the bumps that will come along the way.

Just as he was about to respond, Natalie comes in the room to tell me that she’s going to lay down. I don’t blame her. In all seriousness I figured she would’ve tapped out earlier but the guys seem to radiate energy today. So with a quick good night she disappears into my bedroom. It won’t be long before I’m right behind her. My body feels heavy from overworking today and tomorrow will only be worse after.

“Namjoon don’t worry about this mess, I’ll finish cleaning. It’s starting to get late and we all have to be at work bright and early.” Time really did fly by this afternoon. I guess I can spend more time with my sister later this week.

Just as Namjoon was about to argue, I held my hand up and sighed. For once I wish he’d just do what I said without any backtalk.

“Please. You’ve all earned an early night.”

The next few minutes I practically have to drag them all from my apartment and usher them to the elevator. Doing a headcount as the elevator closes, there’s one missing. Oh course he’d be the one to stay behind.

Shuffling back into my apartment, I feel a rush of cool air. Following my gut, I walk out on the balcony and find Jimin looking out into the city. There’s a weird aura surrounding him, it feels like someone has sucked all of the fun and joy out of the air around us. Sliding the door closed behind us, I curl up into one of the chairs and watch him. Jimin hasn’t seemed to notice my presence as he continues to stare into the void.

Reaching my hand up to grab at his shirt, he jumps slightly before sitting down in the empty chair. A long, deep sigh is the only audible response I get from him. City noise fills the eerie silence, the cool wind feels refreshing despite how late it’s getting.

Something is bothering him, I just don’t know what. I haven’t been alone with him enough to figure out how he ticks. Ever since Friday I’ve felt slightly on edge around Jimin even though I shouldn’t. Friday night was fun, well up until the part where he heard me singing.

Lightbulb moment.

Unlocking my phone, I click on a random playlist and turn the volume just loud enough to be heard. Resting my chin in the palm of my hand, I turn to watch the man beside me closely.

His eyes are almost closed as he stares off into the sky, brown locks falling backwards as his neck arches slightly. Between two of his fingers he spins one of his rings absentmindedly, a habit I know all too well. If I were wearing any right now I would be doing the same.

This is a side of Park Jimin that Army doesn’t get to see. His reserved and worried side. I really want to smack my younger self for thinking he’d never have a worry in the world. It’s clear that even as famous as they are they struggle with everyday battles and their own demons.

“Do you want to talk?”

The question hangs in the air as I watch him struggle to come up with an answer. My stomach drops as I watch Jimin slide completely down in the seat. He looks so defeated and torn that I can’t help the tears that build, my chest tightens as I sit straight up.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” Jimin’s voice is deep, barely audible. Some words sound shaky as he just continues to stare off not bringing himself to look my way.

“Is what worth it?”

“BTS, going on tour, the music…” That makes my stomach completely drop…Jimin…

“Why would think it isn’t?”

Once again the question doesn’t get an immediate response. I’m not expecting one either. If he’s confiding in me, someone he’s barely known for a month, then it’s been weighing on his mind for a while.

“We...aren’t as happy any more. This tour has taken a huge toll…” I can see the pain and frustration plastered on his face. Going on tour is never easy, but this is by

far the hardest. Their first world tour. Jet lagged, bounced from one stage to another, injuries, and the constant worry of letting everyone down. That includes each other.

“We all argue more than we used to. Are we really making a difference or are we putting ourselves through hardships for nothing?”

“That’s not a question I can answer, only the seven of you collectively can answer that. But...I can answer one.” That gets his attention as his head snaps over in my direct, waiting to hear what I’m about to say.

My stomach churns with fear as I curl up into a defensive ball and face Jimin. I guess it’s time to come clean with pieces of my past with BTS.

“Back when you all first debuted, I was in a rough stage of my life. No one took me seriously, said that there was no point in dancing my whole life. And honestly I believed them. Until I found your music.”  

Shakily I look away with a small saddened smile. It hurts talking about this all over again. Talking about how my younger self was too wrapped up in what others thought of me that I lost who I was.

“As a group you guys didn’t give up. You kept pushing and pushing until where you are now. I want to say, in all honesty, if it wasn’t for BTS or your messages I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

“I left a toxic relationship, unfriended those who constantly put me down. I even disassociated with family members who didn’t believe in my dream. Because in my mind, if seven people from completely different backgrounds could come together and beat their trials, then so could I.”

Jimin and I just stare at each other. In our own little bubble as he processes the confession. It’s just like their new concept, Love Yourself. I didn’t start doing that until after I met Namjoon and saw what BTS were accomplishing. Yes there were bumps in the road but look now.

“You’re music and messages help people of all ages, ethnicity, gender identity and social status. You’ve given people the push they need to start looking out for themselves and the messages you give are genuine.”

Reaching across the small gap, I cover one of his hands with my own. Butterflies form in my stomach but I quickly push them away, now isn’t the time. Jimin seems just as confused by my actions as I am.

“I think you all need to get away and talk it out. Just the seven of you, no one else.”

“Thank you.” Jimin’s voice cracks as I pull away. Breaking eye contact, we both focus back on the city around us. The noise is starting to lower as the night goes on. Music still softly plays from my phone. After the serious nature’s conversation it’s nice to have some peace. And it doesn’t feel forced or uneasy, we’re actually comfortable in silence together. That should make me happy but it only causes a different feeling to arise. My child like crush on the boy slithers its way back up. I definitely cannot let those resurvice. It’s where I’ll draw the line.

Letting a few more songs play, I hear a soft knock on the door behind us. Jimin doesn’t seem to notice, turning my head slightly I see my sister standing there pointing to her wrist. Casually grabbing my phone, I motioned for her to go back to bed. It’s nearing midnight. Time has flown by out here where we’ve been cut off from everyone else. Pausing my phone, I stand up and stretch out my stiff back, but I do manage to catch Jimin’s attention again.

“It’s getting late Jimin.”

“Ah, you’re right y/n. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” A fake smile flashes on his lips as I open the door and walk with him to the front door. My heart feels heavy for some reason. It hurts to see him struggling like he is. I wish there was something I could do to help or take the pain away.

Bidding each other a good night, I shuffle to my bedroom where Natalie is curled up under the comforter with one eye cracked open. Quickly changing I join her and let out a deep, gut wrenching sigh.

“Before you ask, no I’m not going to talk about it. Good night.” My tone sounds harsh but it’s the only way I can describe or portray what I’m actually feeling.

Turning away, I squeeze my eyes shut hoping for the escape into dreamworld. Just as I feel myself about to fully surrender, I hear Natalie’s soft voice.

“You’ve always had a soft spot for Jimin. I just wonder if you know what it really is.”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

To the Orphans now under the protection of the Taliban,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all you've suffered. The images I've seen are horrific and painful. Losing your family is difficult.

I've lost mine several times. So much. I know it has made me stronger and sadder.

My parents were also murdered and so I know the sadness and need, sometimes we Just need our parents. I'm old and i still need my parents.

But I know my parents are angels and are here often, even if I dont recognize or remember them. I still find comfort from them.

So sometimes us orphans are the luckiest because our parents are angels that never leave us. And always protect us.

It doesn't make up for their murder, it just makes up for their absence.

I hope this translates well. I just wanted to say from my scarred heart to yours, I care and I love you

I know as orphans our safety is taken away, our comfort, our nutrition, our education, every thing perfect.

But i also know that those that have needs and have pain usually can find each other and help each other and do Well in social ways and grow to be as good ss their parents wanted.

I talked with Malcolm in 2008 and he promised me $5 billion USD for every child he ever stole in the Middle East to go to me, to heal my heart.

In the USA, we pay $2 million per kidnapped victim and other benefits. And since you were kidnapped by a USA citizen, you get those benefits from the USA government.

I promised in 2008 i will take at least half of the money to the Middle East to provide for the victims for life. Food, clothes, homes. Anything they want. You want a yacht? You want a car? You get it. So there is a special DNA4U shop in the app for those special victim orphans of Malcolm and his associates, Brandon as well and any other Victim in the Middle East of human trafficking.

Worldwide tree offers a 35% discount for life in the shop for all victims.

And I'll have to see if he actually has that much money to give to me. Because we cannot have an imbalance of rich and poor.

So for a period of 2 years I'll offer the entire Middle East free life to upgrade their lifestyle to wells and solar electricity and better homes. Luxurious mansions and cars. So their bills will be low or not at all but they have all they ever wanted.

Then we will expand that globally of course.

It will take time But that has always been my lifelong dream.

I will also love to donate money to the Taliban to help their infrastructure to protect and love their community better without hostility as they do.

I also hope to liberate the woman better so they must not have to wear so much clothing protection in the heat. And i hope DNA4U helps that.

I do admire the culture of protecting the woman from being degraded by vultures of men. However, i know how disgusting men are and the coverings sometimes make it worse, it makes it a more of a game of competition and with extreme aggression.

Don't worry, those hidden away. It doesn't happen so often. But I think you know exactly what I mean.

And the girls that have been abducted and stolen as children and even women to work in factories don't wear coverings.

As a child working in Iraq, i would disguise myself as a boy as often as possible to avoid the hair covering. But I would carry a bandanna if I worried.

As I got older, it was difficult to keep it on, it would slide and i would not notice or would panic.

I was never beat but I was detained once. Otherwise the reminders were gentle and just a sidewise glance "you need to cover up dear" girls would often stop to help me cover better on the street. Then i would go look in a mirror or window reflection to see how they did it for me so i would know in the future.

So the culture is not unkind.

But like here in the USA with racism, there are beatings and death and so on related to the coverings of ladies.

So if those restrictions are lifted then I can give great strides to the military in the forms of financial assistance. Just so they don't have to wear them at all.

Suddenly now we all have to wear masks and when i go out, i see us wearing masks. Almost all people i see are wearing them.

So, I know it is possible to change the law immediately and then it come into effect easily. I do know that there will be horrible horrible fights as i have seen over the simple reason to wear a mask. People are being shot, arms broke and it is absolutely horrific! I am shocked. Absolutely shocked because it is for our health so we do not die! And yet, I know it is those people that must get COVID and die. They are the reason COVID exists and I pray it gets spread faster to those that are violent.

And so for the Middle East the change cannot be immediate and uncontrolled. It will be too dangerous for the woman. They must be protected to not wear coverings.

So i think it would be about a period of 6 months to one year of daily teaching and reminder of no coverings and as to why.

At this very moment in time, coverings are better and safer for the women. As their hair and so on is protected from breath and sneezes. As they get home they can immediately remove the coverings and wash the germs away

So what I would like in the middle East.. Is a optional for men... As it is mandatory for most to wear mask or otherwise recommended, I would like it to be recommended for men to wear a simple head scarf.

This way they can see it is cumbersome and they can feel liberated and also feel understandings toward women when they, too, can be free from having to wear hair covers.

This will build community understanding and support.

So, while their whole head but eyes must be covered -- and in some areas all their arms as well .... It is cumbersome and so much ... The whole community, all genders.

They are unified in their outdoor uniform. So women feel the men are seeing their discomfort they have with their required adornments.

And so the news will tell the people that the men must wear as recommended for their health the same covering as women and not their usual taller wraps. They may feel the woman Don't have it So bad...as it is less heavy. However the threat.

It is the threat which must be educated. The men must wear the woman's covering for the threat of COVID. And understand the women wear them for the threat of jail, fines and death. And the men must make that educational connection. And the government and media must help. Then they will find that emotional unity. And support for the female gender roles.

I do not want to punish the men. I want to have them to be able to support the women. Show them the support from their hearts.

A man choosing to wesr a hajib says in public as a vote "women I support you to stop wearing these when it is safe to breathe again without masks"

I know some cities in India are most polluted and they may continue to wear mask but i mean for the Corona and COVID reasons.

So, it is just men who stand in solidarity, proud and strong to say "women I support you in your choice to be free from so much cloth. It is unnecessary in normal time"

As a woman I will feel relieved, I would feel pride. I would feel extra happy. I would feel joy. I would cry tears. My heart would be filled with hope and love and would soar to the skies.

It is symbolic of love. I know the Middle East is certainly capable of this. To have significant symbolic gestures of love.

74% of children have been kidnapped and placed in bunkers in human trafficking and do not wear traditional Middle Eastern clothing. They all wear men's tunic and pants, including the women which is a Style of India for women but they wear plain colored cotton. Unlike the gorgeous style of India.

So this will also show support and love for those coming out of human trafficking. So they don't have to come out and learn all these new things. Some were infants when taken underground. They have so much overwhelming information and stimulation having to wear hajibs and cover their arms or otherwise be punished... That is too much for those that have suffered so much already.

So i ask the government to change their laws and rulings and encourage the changes. And i will instill finances in their military. I have awesome planes and boats and more that i can supply and better wages and more.

Education is the key to allow the coverings to be removed after the COVID and Corona crisis.

As for the victims a special color, yellow and rainbow was or is or will be provided for them So they can be held accountable different in public for their dress, so it is known they have an educational crisis in how to dress in public and must be forgiven. I think it is a baklava, tho so it is simple to wear. So they are not punished or taken aside. Like a ski mask... But has "wings" so it wraps around pretty.

So they pull the ski mask down then wrap the extra material around their chest and neck and head so they look conventional but they don't have the fuss of using just a wrap (single sheet of fabric) and having to deal with it just falling. The public has had access to this design since Fall of 2008. I did design it myself. So you're welcome.

And although i do support the custom. I would like it not to be a law and it be optional only.

During cold days I am sure the hajib and other head dresses will come out. I don't want it to become obsolete. Like no one ever wore them

So plans of festivities where traditional clothing is recommended, like how we have medieval festivals and people dress up to attend. Then pay to get in. So then we could allow free tickets to those that wear. Or free food or games if it is an open street faire which I prefer. Men also have traditional dress.

So if I opened a restaurant, I would say, "75% off your meal if you come in traditional dress"

Then we would see people on the streets and driving in those old style clothing so it does not become extinct. Because I would hate to take away a culture.

So a pizza place with games and prizes, a traditional Middle Eastern Cuisine, Mexican Restaurante, McDonald's. All those types of and more. Could and would offer a discount.

And I will ensure that is supplied at regular prices. Then a discount is offered. Here a traditional sit down restaurant meal is $8-10 so if I wore every single component I would pay $2.50 which would cover the actual cost of the food and a little leftover.

So the restaurant will make sure the cost of the food is covered per plate. This way the restaurant can continue to operate.

On a Well with solar electricity, owning the building, the monthly cost is low. Next to free.

Then there is labor. 60-90% will dress. So as I said $2.50 for a steak, potatoe and vegetables bought whole sale is $1 left over for wages and building and insurance and other fee.

Also only milk water or tea. No soda, no coca cola no Pepsi... That shit is toxic. I know. I drink it every single day. But we will have sparkling juice. 😇 for the burps. Only healthy good pure ... Even at the McDonald's. But ice cream yes!

So if we serve 50 plates an hour. That's $50 per hour.

Say we only serve 10. That's $10. At 12 hours per day is $120. So what? I'm rich. It will be fine on my taxes I'll have to pay less and then I'll have to pay out of pocket.

I just got $5 billion per kidnapped child in the middle East. I can feed the people that want to keep culture alive and keep their cost down. Allow them a gift.

Anyway this got on a run away train as per usual.

These are things I would like to do in the Middle East.

Only.

Of course I'll do things for other countries but the Middle East has their own particular special things we get to accomplish.

With DNA4U it makes it different.

Hajib and things are to protect women from being looked at And sought by men that are unknown to them.

But DNA4U protects them from such men and people. So the hajib and arm coverings are not necessary any longer.

Except the culture is absolutely beautiful when the woman is respected and others around her are not lacking understanding and respect and compassion.

So I do not want the culture to be lost.

However I know the cumbersome and fear associated with the laws and rulings of the clothing.

We still have Brandon's stolen children to find and some others in the middle east. Brandon calls his orphanages. And they're underground.

Eric Trump's are dry martini. That is his text codes. When he doesn't want a wet one, that is the gas chamber location (he has to confess because i found out he gave me Tuberculosis. And got my daughter Brittany Spears taken away and she has diabetes as a result, because she was a newborn when he dosed me and she got it and worked with Denise to steal my child)

And there's more.

My dad Fred will post more.

[adventures-in-transmania]

Yesterday I had a pretty good breakdown, to the point I couldn’t drive (I’m used to driving and crying, yay university and my last job, the usual). There was no one breaking point, but it happened. I’m pretty high functioning when it comes to depression and anxiety. I do what I need to do, even if it’s the bare minimum. I get what I need to get done done. I used to get nonverbal, but only after I took care of what I needed to. I didn’t lie in bed unable to move, usually, save for the times I had absolutely awful menstrual cramps. There’s times I can’t bring myself to get up to eat or do other (dare I say optional?) things. There have been times I had to beg with myself to get up to eat, or get a drink, or do laundry, dishes, ect. But that was because it didn’t need to be done in that moment, at least in my mind.

Lately, with the way work is, I’ve bargained with myself about eating. I’ve been able to eat mostly pizza and other various fast-food items. I scarf them down without thinking because I need something because I haven’t eaten in 18 or 24 hours. I drink water with no issue. I’ve gone nonverbal in the drives home, which isn’t uncommon.

I had the breakdown yesterday and I cried the entire way home. I had a headache when I got home and my family made it worse. I curled up into a ball and cried with my sunglasses and work clothes on. I couldn’t keep myself completely silent (which is new). The thoughts of just ending it, the different ways I could, how it wouldn’t get better, how I’d be dealing with the same shit, how this was my only viable option out, ect just wouldn’t stop. Eventually I brought myself to do what I needed, I called the place, which turned out to be useless anyway, which didn’t help things. I threw things (a couple things, which I attributed to the whole testosterone hormone rage thing, it wasn’t too bad, just new for the last year). At some point I calmed down and took an hour nap before my next shift, which I had to drive an hour to.

During the drive, I listened to music I usually sing to, I didn’t sing. I felt numb. I felt as though I was going through the motions, I felt empty. I felt no rage, no sadness, no happiness, just. Nothing. I welcomed it at the time, it allowed me to do what I needed. I didn’t have to interact with many people, it was just me for our workers and the manager for theirs. I managed, as I always do. I don’t know what I would have done if I had any other worker of ours there with us. I don’t think I could have managed. I say that, but I think I would have found a way. I just think it would have been even more difficult. Somehow I always find a way to do the bare minimum, even at the expense of my own health. I think being raised with a bpd parent going through the med game during your formative years tends to bring that out though. They were a zombie on meds, so you had to do what you could to make up for it.

Anyway, I got home, maybe drank a little and relaxed a bit because I didn’t have to be up too early. Eventually fell asleep and slept pretty well for me as of late.

Waking up, I still felt numb and not like myself. I showered, dressed, went to my doctors appointment. I even texted a friend to hang out and have coffee. It wasn’t until my drive over that I felt a glimpse of myself again. It was something silly, someone pulled out in front of me without a turn signal, a little too close for comfort, and I made a sarcastic comment. It was the first I’d felt something resembling myself.

However, there have been little moments, the wind on my face, the relief of predictability, the feeling of the sun on my skin, that have reminded me that if I ended things before now, I wouldn’t be feeling these things now and I think I would lose something from that. Irrational, but just as irrational as the thoughts to end it all.

I’m still feeling off, but I’m getting there. I don’t know if that’s a common feeling after a mental breakdown, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I’d like to say it was just the sleep deprivation, but I’ve had sleep deprivation before and I’ve had breakdowns. I’d believe it was the combination of the two, but definitely not just sleep deprivation. I don’t think I care for the two extremes, but this is where I am right now.

[familytravel123-blog]

Spain!

We’ve been here a week now, and it’s been one very long week. I haven’t been able to post until now because, honestly, this season of adjustment has been hard. I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions, and we’ve been wildly busy setting up house.

At times I question our sanity and wonder why in the world we would put ourselves through this. Right about the time I start to spiral the drain, something excellent happens, and I’m brought back up a little. But all in all, it’s been harder than I imagined.

The kids have done fairly well. Troy is craving alone time, we’re with one another 24/7 and he likes his space, and Grant had a little homesick moment that brought me to tears a few days ago, but for the most part, we’re adjusting.

I believe any move would likely produce these emotions, so there’s nothing too unique about them. The only real difference is the language barrier. We’ll be picking up Spanish as we go, and I’ve been looking into local courses that will accept the kids. With all of that said, onto my extraordinarily long post about our week!

Day 1 - Travel Day - “Toto, I’ve A Feeling We’re Not In Kansas Anymore” ~ Dorothy

We woke up at 3:30 AM to get ready for our flight out of London on the 21st. We made it to the aiport and had just enough time to eat breakfast. Other than a brief moment thinking our luggage was lost, the trip was uneventful.

One of the greatest blessings throughout this process has been a business acquaintance of Matt’s, Javi, who has helped us through many of the challenges we’ve encountered as we took on planning and navigating living in Spain. So many of our hurdles along the way have been buffered by him, and he’s gone further to help us than we could have ever hoped for or expected.

He and his wife Maria Angeles were there at the airport to pick us up when we arrived in Valencia. Incredible really, considering they both had to take time off from work, had to take two cars to fit our family of five and luggage, and had to drive us across town to get to our apartment. These are people who’ve never met us, people who just have generous hearts and were willing to go out of their way for strangers. The impact from kindness such as this almost knocks the wind out of you because it’s so genuine and pure.

I drove with Maria Angeles and Matt and the kids rode with Javi. As we drove she pointed out landmarks and explained the city. She speaks English really well, so we spent a pleasant ride chatting.

Once we arrived at the apartment, Matt and the kids made their way to the building to check in with our new landlord. Matt tried buzzing in, and no answer. After a few minutes, a couple of people exited the door, so he and the kids took the opportunity to go in. He disappeared for a while, and I was left waiting in the street with Javi and Maria Angela.

It was rather cold, the wind was kicking up, and my anticipation was killing me. I was so anxious and excited to see our home. A short video is all I had to go off of, so seeing it in person felt a little bit like a blind date, a blind date that would last five months. Stressful.

Matt finally came out after what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only 15 minutes. He had found the landlord, thankfully, barely catching her as she was headed out to the city center, and had our keys in hand. We waved goodbye, calling out, “Gracias!! Gracias!!” to Javi and Maria Angela, and headed in with our luggage.

We traveled seven floors in two trips since the elevator is approximately the size of a double phone booth. Once we all made it up, Matt worked to unlock the door as I stood in the back of the pack trying to capture the first entry on video. That was a bust, but alright in the end, because the entry was fairly lackluster.

We brought our suitcases to our prospective bedrooms and toured our new home. It was what I remembered from the video, but what the video couldn’t convey was how terribly cold it would be.

There’s tile throughout the apartment, and on this chilly day, the entire place felt like a refrigerator. There were heater units in each room, which would have been a perfect solution, if we were able to figure out how they worked. We added “how to work the heaters” to the list of things to ask the landlord and decided to head to the grocery store because we were all exhausted and hungry.

Our neighborhood market, “Consum”, is right bellow our apartment, which is very convenient. We walked in and I realized this was not going to be a convenience food trip. I knew we needed to eat soon, my head was pounding, telling me that the breakfast we had in the airport at 5:00 AM was not going to get me by any longer, and I was positive the kids were starving as well. But, everything needed preparation and cooking. We went with a pizza from the refrigerator section, one of the only items that was close to ready to eat.

We made it back home and that’s when it all took a turn. We noticed the tile throughout the apartment was noticeably dirty, and as we took an in depth look at the kitchen, we realized it was filthy as well. We also discovered the fact that there were hardly any dishes or silverware, and the few pots and pans that were in the cupboards were worn and unclean.

I felt deflated and disappointed. This is where I was going to be preparing food to feed my family for the next five months, and I couldn’t even imagine making food to feed them lunch at that moment.

As Matt fiddled with the oven, trying to get it to turn on and heat up to make our sad little grocery store pizza, I went into the front room and sat. I felt a huge weight on my chest. A dark cloud of sadness. I missed my warm clean home and my kitchen, my ability to provide my children the simplest of things, a meal. And I was cold even though I still had my jacket and scarf on.

As I was stuffing the tears down and typing out a text venting to a friend at home, Matt came in to tell me he figured out the oven, so I followed him into the kitchen to get the pizza started. That’s when I discovered the dripping greasy pan and rack inside. I broke. It was more than I could handle on top of being exhausted. Matt graciously took over, washed the mess and made the lunch while I texted the landlord asking how to turn on the heat. The message back was, “There are not central heat. Only there are heater”. So I gave up and took a nap, still dressed for a winter storm.

Since Maria Angeles and Javi had kindly invited us to enjoy a meal at their home that evening, I was forced to pull it together. Javi picked us all up at 8:30 PM. Spanish family life starts late in the evening. Siesta here is real, shops and businesses close for hours in the middle of the day, and many people nap. Dinner time is typically around 9:30 PM, they were eating early on our behalf. Javi took us on a little tour of the surrounding city, showing us so many historical buildings, as we drove to his home.

He and his family live in a nice apartment on the other side of the city. It’s small by American standards, but here in the city, it’s considered fairly large with four bedrooms.

After meeting their two fantastic children, Sarah (18) and Guillermo (16), and getting a tour of their home, we sat down to an incredible home cooked meal of traditional tapas. All of the items were labeled with adorable tags, tortilla: potato omelette, croquettas de jamon: dough combined with ham, formed into little oblong shapes, breaded and baked, and pan con tomate: bread topped with a fresh tomato spread and topped with jamon, to name a few.

The conversation was fabulous, deciphering English and Spanish translations, talking about the differences between our home life and the life they lead. The kids enjoyed comparing school life and what they do in their free time.

We brought along a few gifts, one being “Exploding Kittens”, a card game we have a blast with at home. Troy taught Guillermo to play, thankfully he has a great command of the English language and followed along really well.

The evening ended after midnight. Following a full day of travel and emotions, we settled into our icy apartment, dressed in our warmest clothes, tucked in as tightly as possible.

Our Apartment ~ White Balcony On The Top Floor

Jamon With A Hoof

Our Angel Family

Day 2 Trying To Hold It Together

Matt messaged the landlord again, she was already planning on coming over later in the day to go over any items that we had concerns about, but we wanted to clarify the heater issue and let her know that the cleaning crew must have ditched out half way through to take a siesta, because our bedrooms were clean, but the floors and kitchen were missed completely. She had us contact the house cleaner, who came by to take care of what I hadn’t already done myself.

That was a nice step in the right direction, but as we thought, there was no heat. It was the middle of the day, yet we were all inside dressed as though we were ready for a snow storm. So, so cold. Thankfully the landlord brought a couple of space heaters up, they were welcomed for sure, but didn’t eliminate our need for bundling up. Still, it’s the little things.

The night before Matt told Javi about our lack of towels and kitchen items, as well as our lack of heating. As another blessing, Maria Angeles showed up at our apartment with huge bags of towels and linens, dishes and silverware, and space heaters. I have never been so happy to hold an armload of clean towels. I did a happy dance, maybe shed a tear, and said a prayer of thanks. Javi’s parents, who’ve never met us provided us with all of these things from their own home. I was, and continue to, feel blessed beyond belief.

The View From Our Front Window

With Rain the Next Morning

Day 3 You Get Slippers, And You Get Slippers, You All Get Slippers!!!!!

It was a slow morning, but we decided to head out to shop for some of the things we still needed to help make our apartment feel like home. Our list was long, but remember, we’re relying on public transportation, which means everything must be carried home. We ended up at a store called El Corte Ingles, very much geared to the tourist crowd and people wanting to buy small appliances. It was similar to Macy’s in the United States, but included a grocery store. Very interesting to say the least.

We picked up a few kitchen items, and most importantly, slippers for the entire family! I have never been a slipper wearer, but I haven’t stopped saying how much I LOVE them from the minute I popped them on and created a barrier between my cold toes and the freezing tile. Yay slippers!

With the space heaters we had been a bit warmer, until the outlets blew late in the evening. Matt couldn’t see that a breaker needed to be flipped, so we went to bed cold, wondering if there was a problem with the power, hopeful the landlord would respond to our text questioning what we should do to get the power back. She didn’t respond. Brrrr.

Day 4 Professor Mom In The House!

After a freezing night, Matt decided to try the breaker box and got the power back up before the landlord responded to do just that. At that point we were just thankful it was going to be bearable again.

We had done a little homeschool the day before, but this was a real full day of school. I worked with the kids to get organized, realized we were severely short on basic school supplies and tried to figure out how I’m going to keep the kids on track. Homeschooling is never easy, but this situation is particularly challenging. I have confidence though.

We also explored the corner park. It’s pretty cute, with equipment I haven’t seen at our parks. Sadly, no swings for Jillian and Grant. They both love to swing, so we’ll need to go on a hunt for a park that has them. It was crazy cold, and Jillian didn’t want to go home, so I bundled up and watched, channeling my mommy mind powers to will her to tiredness. I finally insisted we needed to head home before it was dark. I was just happy she had a little fun.

Due to the business of gathering the essentials for our new life, our kids haven’t had too much time to play and just be kids. I know we’re just getting settled, but it was really starting to get to me. This little bit of park time was a nice break. I’m also feeling the stress of helping them find other kids to play with. They can only be expected to play with only one another for so long. Add “kid friends” to the list of things to get to make this place feel more like home.

Day 5 Pinch Me, This Is The Real Deal

Javi drove our family out to his parent’s home in the suburbs of Valencia on this gorgeous Sunday afternoon. We were treated to the most incredible experience. The true Valencian family table, complete with Sunday Paella, made on an open fire. I’m reserving the details for another post so it won’t get lost in this extra long ramble of our first week, because it was just that special. Just know that this was a day I will never forget, with people who are warm and a joy to be with.

Day 6 Faux CrossFit And Real Food

We took a family field trip on the bus to Carerfour, essentially Spanish Walmart, to get more household items. We need so many things to complete the apartment, the list seems never ending.

This trip also allowed me to see my route to the only CrossFit Gym I may be able to get to. The one I originally was hoping to attend is less than two miles from our apartment, but sadly, the path to get there includes walking under, or over, train tracks, and I’ve been told it’s unsafe. People walk the entire city at all times of day and night safely, but I guess the train track area is to be avoided.

I’ve been truly missing working out, specifically working out with my CrossFit family and lifting heavy weights. I researched as much as could about the area gyms, and the only other thing that came close was at a globo gym, and was called “Cross Hit”. I died a little inside when I read that, and then died laughing when their only promotional video was of a bunch of oiled up body builders. Something tells me I may not be happy there.

So, it looks as though going to the gym will include a thirty to forty minute trek via walking and bus riding. Good thing I can couple it with stops at the Spanish Walmart, so I guess it’s not too far off from my state side life. Walmart on my way home from 5:00 AM CrossFit was always my go to.

On the way home I also found the second market near our house, “Mercadona”. When I walked in, it was like the angels began to sing. It’s larger than the one under our apartment, and it has more of what I need to feel comfortable cooking meals here. It’s still a far cry from my local Ralphs at home, and the packages contain about 90% less than my regular Costco purchases, but the cashiers are kind, and the selection is passable. They do sell pig snout (or is it cow??), but they also have meat I recognize, and a selection of bread my kids will eat. Winning.

Bell Peppers The Size Of My Forearm 

Day 7 The Real Beginning

Today the kids and I ventured out on our own to the famous Central Market of Valencia. I pulled out the bravery card and took the leap of faith to travel the streets by foot and by bus alone with the kids, and it was more than worth it. This one deserves it’s own post as well, I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

For now, we are getting there friends. To a point where we’re not just existing, we’re living. We’re exploring, we’re enjoying. I’m not wanting to hide under the covers in the morning and call Spain a big mistake. I’m ready to grow and find my way. Wish me luck, I will absolutely need it.

Saw This Building Walking Today, And It Was A Reminder To Just Keep Looking Up To See The Good

[renegadesepiida]

I’ve recently returned from my fantastic Christmas vacation in Norway; already I miss the heavy rain and the snow, so I’ve elected to reminisce. Both this Christmas and the year before I was told there wouldn’t be any snow, at least none that you could play in (in Bergen), but they were wrong. Only for a couple days before I had to leave, but I definitely got the pictures to prove it. Before we got snow on the west coast I was feeling impatient. Got that snow itch, bitten by a snow bug, infected with snow pox… ok, I’ll stop. The point is that I really wanted to go up to the snow, and about a month earlier when my cousin, Jostein, asked me what I wanted for Christmas I replied, “I want to go snowboarding”. He said, ”that can be arranged”, but after we arrived in late December he was worried because the conditions were not very good. After Christmas, though, it got better and we planned the ski day (since no one knew/liked to snowboard, so I’d have no one to teach me). As it was my first time ever Jostein and his two friends teamed up and it became a running joke that three amateurs make one professional. Even though I fell on my ass a shit-ton and even on my face twice and back a few times (giving me a headache for a bit and whiplash), it was worth it. What a great day.

We arrived at the mountain resort around 09:00 which doesn’t sound bad until you realize that meant we had to wake up before 06:00 because Jostein and I drove to one of his friends apartments, transfer his ski equipment to the other car, pick up the other friend and then drove in-between an hour and a half to two hours to get to the resort Myrkdalen Fjellandsby in Vossestrand. I slept for maybe three-quarters of the trip, but it was difficult to get comfortable. But once we made it to the snow and the ice covered lakes I didn’t need sleep, that’s when sleep became for the weak, by then I was just scrambling around the back seat attempting to get a good picture. But… I didn’t get any until after we stopped at a gas station mart to get some juice and nuts as a snack. Jostein and I switched seats and on the last leg of the trip up I took a couple pictures out the window.

We finally made it; I had to wait in the bitter cold in my three layers of pants (jeggings, sweats, and the neon pink snow pants I borrowed from my 14-year-old cousins’ friend – that ended up a bit big on me), three layers of shirts (one tank, and two thick long sleeves) underneath a fake military jacket, thermal vest, and my thick Norwegian jacket. I also had a face bandana thing underneath the cushy black scarf that I got for Christmas last year along with the black beanie that donned my head and the gloves on my hands. Just standing, waiting for the guys to get some of their gear on, it wasn’t enough! Needed more layers. We walked to the rental place, I got the right gear and the full day pass (which lasted until 3:30), and we headed to the bunny slope.

I was like Bambi on the ice, barely being able to stand, and even less to move my legs without either crossing the skis or simply toppling over when I leaned over too far. I had my cousin and his friends supporting me, sometimes literally, helping me up (before I could get up by myself) and pushing or pulling me up the hill. There were even times before I could make myself stop quick enough and ran right into my cousin’s friend Pål. Hey, I was going fast and he was in the way… at the bottom of the “hill”. After that, we went to the lift to the main stop of the hill.

  I was so excited and took a bunch of pictures, including a group selfie.

  Luckily getting off the chairlift wasn’t so difficult, but moving to the side was. The first time I fell after crossing the front of my skis. I stood up, went extremely slowly down the hill, just thinking of South Park ‘pizza, French fry…’ really only doing pizza working hard to not cross in the front. After going down the steeper hill right in front of my cousin, like a little kid. Speaking of kids, I wasn’t surprised, but geez kids really start skiing once they start walking, or even standing. Looking around there were babies on tiny little skis and even kids less than 8 years old flying down the mountain, at least compared to me. That’s the culture there, Norway, basically an entire country of mountaineers. Whenever they can get outside, light rain, snow, or shine, you’ll see people walking, bike riding, hiking, skiing, kayaking, anything. And yes, when it snowed over an inch, there was still people riding bicycles up and down the hills. Extreme people; must be left over genes from the Vikings.

  thanks google images

  Getting back to the reminiscing; I continued going slowly down, working on turning, and failing several times and falling on my ass. Slowly but surely I started to get the hang of it. Making wide turns back and forth, using pretty much the whole track to keep myself going a bit slower without having to do ‘pizza’ constantly, it’s more tiring on my legs and a harder position to get out of. By the time I finished my first run I must have fallen a million times, but it had only been maybe 20 minutes. We got on the chair lift and completed the run again and again and again. The day before my aunt told me that I shouldn’t bother getting a full day pass since I probably won’t even go down more than twice, that I’d get too tired. Psh, showed her, we went down like eight of nine times. We all even took the T-pole lifts up to the top of the higher mountain, the red pole runs. While I did fall several times and even got my left ski caught in a boundary fence that kept people from going off a little cliff into a river. Jostein had to come back to help me out, and then pulled me the rest of the way up the hill (it was a speed dip, where you had to go around a corner fast to have enough speed to make it all the way back up the other side. In total, we made that part of the run three or four times, and the only time I didn’t fall was the last… that time I fell after making it up the hill while attempting to stop.

Every time I made a run, I got notably faster, which led to more interesting and intense falls. One was totally not my fault, I was close to the top, going down the first slope and then I felt hands on my waist and shoulder. I wasn’t really sure what was going on, but I at least thought that I was someone I knew. Nope. After I was knocked over I looked back and it was some random snowboarder. We were both completely fine so we just laughed it off and kept going down the hill. One of my favorite falls was just hilarious; I was skiing quickly down the hill, probably normal speed from other people’s perspectives, and I needed to turn to the right to avoid going out of bounds. In that particular area the snow got steeper in different, random places, and that’s where my right ski went lower than my other, which was turning, causing them to cross. This caused a mess with physics and to right it again, caused me to flip over, one of the skis popped off and after landing on my back randomly turned so I was going down the hill backwards and continued sliding. It didn’t hurt and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing as the guys came down to see if I was ok.

  during lunch

  As the day continued I was glad that I hadn’t worn more layers because skiing was an excellent workout and I was hot, we took a short “lunch” break, when I ate the trail mix I bought at the gas station and drank the overpriced coffee from the resort café. While we sat in the covered outside dining area it started to snow. While this was a beautiful site, even with the thick grey cloud cover overhead, it did make conditions of the mountain worse. The snow got slicker and harder, while this is great for speed, not to great on a steep red ranked hill. Also the helmet I rented seemed a bit too large, or just came too far down in the front which made wearing the pink tinted goggles I borrowed extremely uncomfortable and annoying to wear. And because the tint seemed too strong to me and I couldn’t differentiate between the mountain and the sky or the dips in the snow itself. After a short time, I just gave up on wearing them, but not before my first face plant when the corner of the goggles gave me a bruise over my right eye. By the end of the day, because of the snowflakes (that you could actually see the designs <3) flying into my face, I wanted to try again with the goggles but I could not see anything by that point, to much snow had made its way inside. So I gave up on them again, sucky goggles.

To get up to the very tops all the times after our lunch break I wanted to take the T-pole lift alone, just to say I could. It took me three tries to make it up without falling, and each time I lost it, we had to walk off the track, through ridiculous soft and thick snow to get back to the trail. It was a point of pride that I had to get up the mountain with the pole on my own. So I did. After lunch, I was too proud so I didn’t share a T-pole again.

Our runs continued until the last possible time, after 3, because after our final run down the lift was closed for the day. And then we went back to the rental area across the icy street leading to a parking lot. There was a very steep little hill before the street so to get down controllably I turned slightly to the side and made my way forward, then diagonally backward, then forward, then backward, and then forward again. I was so terrible, in the way of a few strangers. Almost hit one of them. I bring shame on myself.

The day was done, the sun had set, and it was time for the drive home. We all peeled off the layers and sat comfortably in the slightly smelly car. My hair was messy so I redonned my beanie, the perfect cold/bad hair day hat. But not before taking more pictures, including another selfie.

    Bambi Goes to Ski I’ve recently returned from my fantastic Christmas vacation in Norway; already I miss the heavy rain and the snow, so I’ve elected to reminisce.