#procrastinating my fanfic which i am writing to procrastinate from BEING ON THE CLOCK

[cavennmalore]

sorry do we mind if i just....

Everglen feels quieter. Quieter than when Alvar turned traitor and his parents barely spoke for a week.

Definitely quieter than when his dad's mind broke. It had been all screaming and shouting then.

It's a silly thought, Fitz knows. Keefe didn't even live at Everglen, not really. He had hardly visited in the last few months. Sure, they'd hail each other, Biana crowding the imparter before Fitz was finally able to shove her out of his room with a she's so annoying under his breath like the big brother he is.

Keefe would laugh. Even through the imparter, his laughter would echo through the house.

It's hard to wrap his brain around the thought that that's permanent now. Keefe would never come back for another game of tackle bramble or base quest. He would never fix his hair in Fitz's bathroom mirror again. He would never sit at their dining table, fidgeting with nerves before cracking a joke that would make Fitz's dad snort and his mom shake her head.

He would just be... gone.

And maybe Keefe had been gone for a long time. Maybe he had already stepped halfway out of Fitz's life already, in harsh words and jealous looks over blonde hair. But they were going to fix it.

They were.

Fitz knows they were.

They didn't perform well in front of an audience. They snipped and stepped over the line and made awkward attempts at cheering the other up without much success. Keefe had been better at it than Fitz; he always knew what to say, even though Fitz was the one who could literally read minds. Being an empath had suited him, made him more compassionate in a crisis, which Fitz had been so jealous of.

It also made him more sensitive.

That's probably what killed him in the end.

Fitz can't help the anger that floods him at the thought. If Keefe had just been a little tougher, a little more untouchable, a little more like his persona, then he could have lived. It's his fault, Fitz's mind shouts at him. It's Keefe's fault and Cassius's fault and Lady Gisela's fault and the Council's fault and his parents fault and the Collective's fault and Grady's fault and Dex's fault--

And of course, Fitz's fault.

What kind of person lets their best friend die?

uhm actually the real question is

how would FITZ react to keefe dying?

OH GOSH NO NO NO NO NO

What if he spirals because he can’t remember the last thing he ever said to him and oh gosh did keefe die thinking fitz didn’t care about him anymore did he die hating him did he die thinking they’d never be able to trust each other or mend their friendship again

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Beboptober Day 11: Procrastination

Thanks to @thestarlightsymphony for the prompt list! I’ll be honest, I’m not sure this idea makes sense to anyone else but me, but it was fun to write :)

Hey, Maya, says the tiny Jet Black who lives in my head. Shouldn’t you be writing your Beboptober fic for today?

I’ll do it later, I think back. I have work to do. History readings, and studying for my Astronomy midterm, and…

Okay, okay. Jet holds up his (imaginary) hands, smiles and nods approvingly as he exits. Probably a good idea, too, to get your homework done first.

(He doesn’t know I’m going to procrastinate on that too.)

~~~~~

Hey, says the tiny Faye Valentine who lives in my head. Don’t you have Beboptober to do tonight?

Yeah, I say. I stuff another cookie in my mouth, from earlier when I decided I couldn’t possibly write without the proper snacks. But I’ll do it later.

How much later d’you have? asks Faye, giving an idle glance at the clock between drags of her cigarette.

I can submit it a little after midnight and it will still be fine, I say. It’ll still be the same day in the time zones behind mine.

Stands to reason, says Faye, shrugging; I can’t tell if she’s convinced or not. I can’t tell if I’m convinced by myself or not, to be honest.

Then, over my protests, she reaches for one of my cookies. Hey, can I have one of those?

(As if she could have them anyway.)

~~~~~

Beboptober! Beboptober! chants the tiny Ed who lives in my head, whirling and spinning around in my mind’s eye. She likes Beboptober the best of all the characters in my head—she enjoys doing silly little things for me to write down, and she’s generally not the one being put through trauma or getting her neuroses dissected for all of Tumblr to see. The tiny Ein who lives in my head stands next to her and barks.

Yep, I tell her. Beboptober is, in fact, a thing I have to do. And that I will do. I glance at the clock in the upper-right of my computer screen and shake my head. Eventually.

The deadline looms ever-closer! says Ed, wiggling her fingers and injecting her voice with her spookiest vibrato. You must write noooooow!

I’ve got time, I say.

Whatcha doin’ instead? she says, standing on tiptoe and leaning over my shoulder to see my laptop screen.

It’s, er… How on earth am I supposed to explain this? It’s an article, I say. Okay, fine, not an article. A Reddit post. About the hobby drama behind Disney parks and their fans.

Ein gives me a reproachful look at the fact that this is what I’ve been doing instead of Beboptober. That I opened up that tab and have just gotten lost in it—for the past three hours.

And that’s not all. Also on my laptop are the New York Times crossword, a questionably-legal copy of a Sophie Kinsella novel, and a game that’s like 2048 except it’s called “Large Hadron Collider” and the blocks are labelled with the names of subatomic particles.

In my defense, I say, playing that last one kinda helps me think…

But Ed, all thoughts of deadlines and spookiness forgotten, is fascinated by the 2048 knockoff. She avidly watches me as I move the little blocks, every so often suggesting new movements and giggling, and that’s what we do for the next half an hour.

(With no progress made on Beboptober.)

~~~~~

Hey, says the tiny Spike Spiegel who lives in my head. It’s, like, 11 PM. You doing Beboptober anytime soon?

Later, I think back, gritting my teeth, not lifting my eyes from the computer screen—which is not open to my Beboptober doc.

He raises an eyebrow. Y’know, it gets kinda boring just sitting here, in your head, waiting for you to make us do stuff and write about it…

But what if the stuff is wrong? I say, fear creeping into my voice. Fear I haven’t really acknowledged until now—but really should more often, as it seems to be at the root of a lot of my procrastination. Like, out-of-character, or inaccurate to canon, or…

So, it’s wrong, he says. It’s one fanfic-event-thing, or whatever the hell it is. It’s not gonna be the end of the world.

I frown resolutely. I should probably look on the Bebop wiki just to be safe. And rewatch the episodes I’m thinking of for this idea, and look at the #Beboptober 2022 tag to see what other people have written, and…

Suit yourself. Spike shrugs his shoulders and leans back on the couch. (Don’t even ask me where he found a couch inside my mind.) But when you’re still up frantically typing at 3 AM, don’t blame me.

(Like he’s the pinnacle of healthy habits.)

~~~~~

AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! I say in my own head. It’s 2 in the morning and I don’t have anything written for Beboptober. What the hell am I supposed to do with this prompt?! I don’t even have an IDEA!

I knew this would happen, says Jet knowledgeably.

Happens every time, says Spike, taking a long drag from his cigarette. (I’ve told him before that smoking inside my head clogs up my brainspace and doesn’t let me think, but he never listens to me.)

Come on, guys, I say, glaring at them. Stop being smartasses and do something! Do something funny and thoughtful and deep so I can write it down!

Maybe we would have if you’d asked us earlier, snarks Faye.

I put my head in my hands. You’re seriously going to give me a creative block now?

Block, block, hard as a rock! chants Ed, as cheerfully as ever.

This is your fault, you know, says Jet. You could have avoided this if you had just gotten down to business earlier. You’ve brought this panic on yourself.

And posting your fic at like 3 AM when no one’s gonna see or reblog it, adds Spike. You brought that on yourself too.

And they’re right. I have. And it is my fault.

(Not that this will stop me from doing it all again the next day.)

[gubes-sweaters]

Uninvited Guests

Authors note: So I have a bunch of one shots that I’ve had written for a while(including this one) but they were always just for fun and not actually to post anywhere. I’ve decided to edit them and post them whenever I don’t feel like writing whatever fanfic series I have going on at the time.

Content warning: none... just embarrassment I guess.

Word count: 1.5k

My masterlist is here

I love my boyfriend I really really do. If I didn't I wouldn't put up with his very demanding work schedule. If anything it makes my time with him more special and it made me learn to appreciate the little moments like now. It's a rare Sunday morning where I woke up next to him and what's even rarer is that I woke up before him. I stare at his face while he's sleeping so peacefully. Small cute little snores escape from him as I brush some hair out of his face and trace his cheekbone with my index finger.

I looked at the clock to see it was only 6:30 and I normally don't even consider leaving our bed until at least 8:30 on the weekends. I have a terrible habit of waiting until the very last second to get out of bed for literally anything which sometimes annoys Spencer. He claims that my procrastination stresses him out. Its probably because his brain is always going a million miles a minute. I think about closing my eyes once more until my alarm goes off, but right before I can there's a pounding at the door.

The abrupt banging on the door is loud enough to wake Spencer up. His job has thrown many curve balls at him before so when there's a banging at his door it doesn't take but only a couple of seconds to wake up. He springs out of the bed before grabbing his gun that sits in the bottom drawer of his nightstand along with his holster. He also quickly throws on a pair of sweatpants along with a T-shirt from off of the floor.

"Stay here," he says before there's another couple of loud raps at the door. I just nod in response because I was so shocked I couldn’t form words.

Like I said before I love my boyfriend, but despite him being an FBI agent I'm still scared because most people don't find Spencer very threatening. That's partly to blame because of his young age compared to most of his peers, but also because to most people, he seems like the purest of cinnamon rolls. Him holding a gun doesn't look right only because it doesn't match his very soft and harmless demeanor. Even with a gun he still looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly. Either way, he wants to be big man on campus right now so I let him go alone. He closes our bedroom door as quietly as possible before going to see who could be banging at the door so aggressively this early in the morning.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I start to get nervous. I've never met any of Spencer's friends because they're all apart of his team. After all, he wants to keep me separate from his job and I respect that choice. Now all I can think about is the worst, what if something bad happened to him? Who am I going to tell and would that be how I met my boyfriend's friends for the first time? What if he's been kidnapped and he's being held for ransom? A million outrageous thoughts go through my mind at once. I decide to take my chances and call out for him. I realize this exact thing is what gets people killed in horror movies, but I'm more concerned for my boyfriend than my own well being.

"Hello... Spence?" I call out while creeping out from under the covers and throwing one of his button-ups on along with my underwear that was on the floor after last night's events. Spencer may be lanky but he's also very tall so the button-up hit my mid-thigh as I crept to the door trying to hear any noise on the other side. I didn't hear anything but a couple of muffled voices one I know belongs to my boyfriend, but two other ones belonging to complete strangers. One was a booming deeper voice belonging to a man and the other was a bit softer but a still stern voice belonging to a woman. In a split moment of bravery, I swung the door open preparing for the worst. What was on the other side of the door was worse than anything I could imagine.

Three heads automatically turn to me. A very muscular man dressed in a t-shirt that was form-fitting along with a pair of jeans and a gun in his holster. The other was a raven-haired woman with bangs. She was dressed much more formal than the man. She was wearing a plum dress shirt with black dress pants and heels. My boyfriend with a pink hue over his cheeks looked at me in complete horror and embarrassment. All you hear was the man busting out laughing and the woman next to him trying to contain her chuckles.

"Oh... this is why pretty boy has been so busy and can't answer his phone. Here I thought he was just memorizing some obscure textbooks, but this I was not expecting." He says before using Spencer as a crutch so he didn't collapse on the floor from laughing so hard.

"Excuse him I'm Emily Prentiss and that's Derek Morgan." She says while making long strides over to me before sticking out her hand for me to shake. I return the kind gesture by shaking her hand and giving her my name. I get some relief because I recognize the names as his co-workers, but it also stresses me out because I just met two of his co-workers while wearing nothing but Spencer's button-up and my underwear.

"I apologize but we need to steal pretty ricky over here because we have a case," Morgan says before trying to control his breath from laughing so hard.

Spencer just looks at me with a very apologetic look before shooing Morgan out of the apartment. Emily leaves a lot more willingly than Morgan, but when they both leave Spencer and I let out a couple of laughs at the very awkward situation.

"You know he's never going to let this go right? He’s also definitely going to tell the whole team,” Spencer says before making his way over to me and grabbing me by the waist pulling me in for a quick embrace. I'm sure that this embrace was his way of apologizing for the awkward situation.

"Why did they even come here in the first place?" I ask while following him into the bedroom so he can quickly get ready and grab his go-bag.

"I guess my phone died and I normally would've plugged it in, but last night I got a little distracted." He says while jokingly giving me the side-eye.

"You weren't complaining last night about me distracting you," I return to him.

"You're always the best distraction. Now I've got to go because they're both no doubt on the other side of the door waiting for me to tell them everything about you. If I don't they'll tell Garcia and she'll no doubt find out anything she wants to know very shamelessly. I'll be home as soon as possible and maybe you can meet the rest of my team in a much more appropriate setting," He says before pulling me in once more, but this time by my face to plant a kiss on my lips then on both of my cheeks. He grabs his go bag on his way out as I tell him to come back to me in one piece.

"Will do. I love you!"

"I love you too," I tell him before he closes to door.

As I crawl back in our bed I realize that's the first time we've ever said I love you. I know it’s odd to move in with your significant other before saying you love them, but Spencer is the type of person to do ass-backward things like that. I also think we both knew we loved each other without even having to say it out loud. For most people, it's not a huge deal but Spencer isn't most people. It normally takes him a while to be comfortable with any sort of intimacy with anyone. Regardless if it is platonically or not simple things like hand-holding and I love you's take time with Spencer. I smile to myself and I can't help but think about how incredibly lucky I am while I drift off to sleep once more.

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Taglist: @rexorangecouny @haylaansmi

[dragonpressgraphics]

3 Tag Games

Tagged by @pod7et

1: Are you named after someone?  was. I fixed that 11 1/2 years ago.

2: When was the last time you cried? Uh, not caused by a fic? Not sure. But I was very close this saturday

3: Do you like your handwriting? Nope. And I know that seems weird, that as an artist I have horrible handwriting, but i do. I apparantly just have no patience to wait - my art thumbnails also look very awful. the difference is, the first time i'm trying to get the idea down fast before my brain moves on or forgets. the second time is to make it nice. I never get around to writing it a second time unless its typed up.

4: What is your favorite lunch meat? in general: Roast Beef. specifically - the Buttercup Dairy Store Cajun Roast Beef. A small mom and pop owned store back home where i had my first job.

5: Do you have kids? yes. one.

6: If you were another person, would you be friends with you? i don't see why not?

7: Do you use sarcasm? everyone around me does so if i do, it doesn't get noticed as sarcasm. i have it, i try to, but my levels of sarcasm just doesn't compare

8: Do you still have your tonsils? Yes

9: Would you bungee jump? *SHUDDERING* Why would you ask me that? WHY?

10: What is your favorite kind of cereal? I don't eat cereal anymore

11: Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? I used to, but i have a pair of shoes now that i can get on and off without having to, so i don't bother anymore

12: Do you think you’re a strong person? No

13: What is your favorite ice cream? Vanilla bean - Breyers or Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby

14: What is the first thing you notice about people? Uh...colors, I think. They'll draw your eye in and then you start noticing everything else.

15: What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? MY HEIGHT (I'm so short and its not fair - my dad was a whole foot taller than me. so's his brother. and his oldest sister is almost a foot taller than me as well

16: What color pants and shoes are you wearing now? blue striped pj’s

17: What are you listening to right now? Everyone's sleeping and i was too lazy to find my headphones, so all i'm listening to is my fingers typing and the humming refridgerator (i apparantly can't spell that.)

18: If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Well, that depends. Am I picking it? Or does each color have some deep meaning that would be applied to me? Becuase if it's the first, the color would be blue. if its' the second, you'll have to give me the chart...

19: Favorite smell? BACON

20: Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? my mum-in-law (and yes, i call her mum. and no, i'm not from England. so there.)

21: Favorite sport to watch? Yuri on Ice. that totally counts, right?

22: Hair color? plain old brown with silver creeping in. sometimes i dye it to bring out the red highlights that hide inside. usually that means i've just turned my whole head red. :P

23: Eye color? Brown

24: Do you wear contacts? I can't wear them anymore. they hurt my eyes.

25: Favorite food to eat? Bacon. what, i can use the same answer twice! okay fine - how about something i can't get anymore because i don't know how my father cooked it?

26: Scary movies or comedy? Comedy! I'll even watch scary stuff sometimes if it has enough comedy

27: Last movie you watched? You know what? NO. I ain't telling cause i really regret watching it. WHILE i was watching it, but i was too lazy to find something else.

28: What color of shirt are you wearing? my bright orange pj's

29: Summer or winter? Autumn!!!

30: Hugs or kisses? Hugs

31: What book are you currently reading? Does fanfic count? if not, I technically have several books i'm in the middle of right now - i think i started them 2 years ago. before i realized i could read fanfic on my nook.

32: Who do you miss right now? dad

33: What is on your mouse pad? N/A (laptop has the touchpad, and even when it doesn’t, i use a trackball. no mouse necessary - but we did have one a friend stole from our college computer lab that my hubby used for like, forever.

34: What is the last TV program you watched? um.....oh! the Red Green Show

35: What is the best sound? music. or laughing.

36: Rolling Stones or The Beatles? not sure

37: What is the furthest you have ever traveled? NH to California

38: Do you have a special talent? i like to think so

39: Where were you born? Deleware

******************************

Alright, I was tagged by @dmsilvisart to answer 8 questions and tag 9 people who I would like to get to know better. Here we go:

1. Relationship Status: Married 11 1/2 years, known each other for 22

2. Favorite Color: Blue!!!!!!

3. Pets: None. Everyone in my house but me is allergic

4. Last Song I Listened To: That was hours ago! you expect me to remember? :( Right now i have the Yuri on Ice open theme song stuck in my head. Which makes me mad because i tried to buy it on Amazon and the only copies i could find were NOT the version in the open (different singer) or only 30 seconds long (when the open is around a minute and a half)

5. Favorite TV Shows: Supernatural, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Sherlock, Yuri on Ice, M*A*S*H (no one said it still had to be on the air...or in its original run...or...any kind of...qualifier), Stargate, Eureka, slayers, Furuba and probably so much more if i had any brain left for thinking

6. First Fandom: Star Trek

7. Hobbies: Reading, writing, arting (though i want that to be more than a hobby), Games (puzzles, board, card and video - everything really), knitting, scrapbooking

8. Books I’m Currently Reading: Several. from like, 2 years ago, before the whole nook thing. BUT! I am holding @unforth-ninawaters "Glimmer of Hope" hostage until i get more of my work done and i'm sooooo antsing to read it right now!

************************ Alphabet Game

Tagged by @tenoko1

a - age: 39.9

b - biggest fear: Being in open water or being lost, or being alone

c - current time: 3:05am

d - drink you last had: tea

e - every day starts with: my daughter waking me up for a hug before she leaves for school. then i attempt to fall back asleep until i get a nerf shot at my ass (by my husband) as a pretend alarm clock

f - favorite song: Dust in the Wind (but really, so SO many good ones to choose from! how do you choose?)

g - ghosts, are they real: can't decide

h - hometown: where i live now? where i was born? Where i grew up? I never know which version of the question i'm being asked...

i - in love with: not sure what to put here

j - jealous of: anyone whose life is more together than mine i guess. Or people who waste their opportunities

k - killed someone: um, no

l - last time you cried: This saturday I came really close. I had to go hide.

m - middle name: Is my maiden name - i was rather partial to it and since i was moving my old middle name to the first position i said, sure, why not. Let's just lop off that first name and move everything over one to make room for that new last name. wasn't like i was using that old first name anyway.

n - number of siblings: 1.5 (aka, a full sister and a half brother. whom i havent seen since he was 5 except for one time, by accident, at a con. Where he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with our family.

o - one wish: To be able to support myself on my artistic ability

p - person you last called/texted: do the website IMs count? cause that would be either jhoomwrites or mittensmorgul

q - questions you’re always asked: did you draw this?

r - reasons to smile: my kid, music, my art, comments on my fics

s - song last sang: aaaaaah....All of me? i...think? I was singing along

t - which time? Because according to my fitbit, i was awake 17 times last night

u - underwear color: the hated pink color

v - vacation destination: so. many. places! japan, ireland, greece, a supernatural convention for the ENTIRE weekend

w - worst habit(s): Tumblr, procrastination - oh wait, same thing

x - x-rays you’ve had: i've had a variety of things like that - xrays, mri's, catscans...hip, sinus, teeth, baby, gallstones, foot, etc

y - your favorite food: For the third time, BACON!

z - zodiac Sign: Aries

Not tagging anyone - if you wanna do it, go ahead :D

[cipher0quilo-blog]

Translucent reality- KHR fanfic

I wrote something... i’m still god damn confuzzled. Disclaimer: KHR is not mine and will never be, the wonderful Akira Amano does. Thank her for creating it. Warning: Bad grammar and spelling... SWEARING... a lot... depends . ----------------------------------------

The soft, stable clicks of the clock's hand led me to question my mental stability everyday. The buzzing of the silence progressively increasing my curiosity.

I may be slightly smarter than the average, slightly more patient than the average but lying on your back all day, having no prospect of progress on anything at all. No action, no movement but eating, sleeping and... and taking a number 2 or 1 in diapers were just... pointlessly irritating.

Annoying, waste of my time, aggravating, mocking, infuriatingly painful... provokingly maddening.

Anything to take me away from this damn crib, from this room would be wonderful, fantastic and god damn magical.

Would be my thoughts everyday.

Well, until I finally thought of practicing how to speak, stand, walk and finally... finally pinch off my diaper and take a good look at my genitals.

Which in turn, led me to think of how stupid I was to spend several months pitying myself and my sorry state. Numb muscles from my arm stretching to slap my forehead in annoyance.

I sighed, exasperated.

"What a hassle"

Oh my god... who was that? Am I going crazy, am I finally insane?

It took me a couple of minutes to realize who said that and capture a pair of stiff, trembling hands flip up quickly. Said hands held up towards the ceiling for 5 long majestic minutes.

I could speak.

Holy honey sugar god of the magical candy land.

I mean... I could swear now... i mean, i could communicate to my mommy dear. Now... now to move onto strengthening my muscles. To check if i was still a male. To slowly rip the diaper.

Of course i was still a male. I mean what sort of god would put a 16 year old male in a female body?

2 months later --------------

A fucking sadist, of course. Would you look at that... down there. There's no ding dong. There's no sausage. No wiener.

Somebody help me. Dear lord, life is precious and insanely beautiful but at times it's equally as disturbing.

It's painful.

Even if i was just reborn as a girl now, it feels like my male genitalia was harshly cut off.

I-i could just ignore it. I guess?

No big deal, right?

I questioned myself. Reassuring myself. Yea... i would be fine...

I'm just gonna go through my life as a girl. Not like losing my penis was a big deal.

Existential crisis, resolved? Yea, probably. I could just have a sex change.

Is there one at this time anyway? I haven't exactly figured out what year and day i was in. If there wasn't one and i'm way back at the past.

I'm gonna have people call me daddy. I swear i will let their existence remind me that i was a guy before. Because there was no way in hell i was gonna go through hormones, puberty, romance and all those magical stuff as girl. I'd be gay.

There's no problems with gays but I'm completely straight. Will always be. Yea... i would.

Now to get back to reading.

Picking up the old looking book and sloppily opening it. I finally realized. That the words were in another language. A language that I vaguely remembered studying at year 7-8. It was in Italian. And I barely remember the language.

Now you may retort back to me by saying that 'isn't' it lucky that you know even a little bit of it to start off on?' Now, my young ducklings, yes it is.

You remember the time i told you that i have patience that's slightly above average? Well my beautiful munchkins. I won't be able to wait that long.

The world i'm in becomes so much more beautiful every time i blink. Note the hatred and sarcasm laced in this thought.

Shit just keeps getting better because all my fucks have already been freed and to be honest, i need an alternative. So i'm gonna throw shit at life. As. much. as. possible.

Where is my mother? I need a change of diapers.

2 more months ---------------------

It took me 2 more months to figure out what date it was. From the books, from the news and from the gossip.

It took me 2 months to notice i was an orphan. I just had my own room because the orphanage was quite spacious. Quiet and old, though brand new and noisy at the same time. Beautiful but ancient.

14 bedrooms and 9 children. I get paranoid each time the clock ticks and somebody walks down the hall, the wooden floorboards creaking eerily.

They nearly scared me shitless when they opened the door to check if i was sleeping. I swear the person responsible for this orphanage was doing this on purpose. Opening the door excruciatingly slow to scare the crap out of me. Which, let me tell you, actually did. I cried so much just to get sweet sweet revenge.

You see, i read books most of the time, Alessia, the person responsible of the orphanage, checked up on me. Gently reminding me to go to sleep worriedly. I would, after an hour or 2 when it was 12 p.m.

Now i would describe Alessia to be a little better than an average looking girl, brown hair and green eyes. I would say she was beautiful in her own way though.

Alessia's troubled expression would meet mine every night. It would harden even more each night.

Finally, she thought of a plan. And well, as you know. It was to scare me. I think she was planning to just scar me 'slightly'.

She didn't know it would loosen my bowels and shit would come rushing out. Her face contorted in disgust as the smell floated around the air. It just wouldn't stop flowing same goes for the tears. Both my ass and my eyes burned.

I remember it so vividly, even the feeling. It scarred me enough to sleep at 10 p.m. and it scared Alessia enough to be careful around the halls. Which just made it worse. Or she was doing this on purpose because she figured out i was crying just to get revenge.

Story time over though, Alessia established before this incident that i was some sort of genius for knowing this much. Alessia barely even knew how to read and write. Though she tried her best to teach me.

January 1st, 1607.

It's so god damn far back and it just gets better from there.

Cecilia Silvano. The start of the name came from my mother but the rest was all Alessia.

I was born in May 16th, 1606. Approximately 6 months old. My parents? I don't have a father she says. I have a mother she said. Typical, i would think. Though i was just kindly accepted in the orphanage because of my mother. She gave birth at the streets with the help of Alessia, fortunate enough to stumble through her. And, i was born at the streets out of some sort of miracle, at the cost of my mother's life.

I really didn't know how to react to that sort of revelation. It wasn't typical, i would think. It was painful to feel but there was nothing to react to . I didn't know her, she didn't take care of me but just the thought of her going through the birth, begging Alessia to accept me and weakly mutter her last name just to give me something to know the me here as... just made living here so much more painful.

Everything wasn't so sappy and harsh in the... 'future'. The place where i used to live. Well, developing countries still go through this but...

Everything was given to me and when i went through that 'questioning my existence in this world' or 'what's the meaning of life' phase , i foolishly thought how there was no point in life when there was people who would wish for food, for clothes... for a family just like mine.

I realized that but i refused to accept the reality in front because somewhere... somewhere, there was just something better. Anime... worlds, you know? There was nothing to reassure me that that was true. So... i didn't want to live.

And i never got through that phase until this revelation. I wanted to live that life again, so desperately. I was in a safe haven. That was utopia. I thought i was strong.

Being exposed to this much pain and the poor ways of living in this time was just too much. I thought i could handle it. But i couldn't...

I sighed exasperatedly. Another existential crisis. Great.

I'm thinking about depressing things again. Jeez, i just promised to myself that i'll live this 2nd chance of mine to the fullest. I would make a change. To help people out there through the pain, you know?

I still do love procrastination. So i'll just do what i can to selfishly live a life i can tell myself was 'good' enough.

That's not the point now though.

I GOT A LOOK OF MYSELF.

And god damn i was good looki- Cute.

Alessia would always comment at how my hair was colored abnormally.

Soft white hair that would glisten when exposed to the sunlight and light blue eyes that scared the living daylights out of Alessia once. She said it was glowing in the dark. I didn't know how to respond... So i told her it was just 'cool'. I had pale skin, my face was just adorable and i was simply contemplating at how beautiful my mother is to be able to make 'me'. Overall, i looked like a fragile doll.

...I have anime hair.

Oh yes i do.

I got dem power.

Next thing i know. I'm actually in an anime.

I will majestically turn into a magical girl and kick ass .

Wearing a white button up shirt and light blue overalls that looked worn out, i trudged down the stairs.

Waking up from a baby crying their heart out was irritating. I heard the source downstairs so i grumpily decided to check what it was.

I heard the soft hums of Alessia's voice. Trying to calm down the baby. I strode towards her uncomfortably. Gently yanking at her dress.

She quickly looked at me with panic stricken eyes and i sighed. "Pull some funny faces, Alessia. The kid'll calm down." I said tiredly.

She quickly complied, trusting my words .

The crying gradually became quieter replaced by soft gurgles and adorable giggling. If i get strong enough i will hold onto this child.

Alessia relaxed. Though her posture was still stiff.

"He was abandoned...", She spoke up, her hands trembling with what you'd think would be anger. She was scared. For herself if this child was someone important or for the child itself.

"Unlikely Alessia. Just relax and do what you do best. Smile and take care of people. Because if you're afraid, the kids will wonder and mirror you. Since they are still children." I softly replied.

She quietly laughed ," I'm older than you but you're smarter. I've experienced more but you're wiser. Why is that..."

" You're not expecting me to answer?" I asked, eyeing her, half lidded. Alessia gently rocked the baby and lulled him(?) to sleep, "... No. Because it may just be a simple reason."

She smiled warmly down to my figure.

I returned the expression though a little stiff.

True... It is. I was given a second chance in life and i'm living through it.

Standing next to this 15 year old women, i nodded.

" Do you know his name?"

She sadly shook her head, her hair bouncing as she carefully adjusted her hold of the baby, "Unfortunately, no. I just saw this child abandoned at the path. I couldn't just leave him if we have this much space in the house."

A frown slowly crept on my face though i would, i say, i was internally smiling, "Are you planning to name him...?"

"Yes... I very much do. I thought you were about to disagree of this idea. There's not much food to give to all the children in the orphanage and now we have to have room for one more. We... we can handle it, i'm sure." She reassured me.

" I mean, i would have, even though i worry that you don't eat much already but you seem to favour this child quite a bit." I responded, amused.

She giggled, "Anyway, do you have any ideas for this child's name?"

I slowly raised a brow. I do. Maybe?

I laughed inside. A smile threatening to split my face as i thought of the name of my sister's favorite anime character.

Giotto Taru, was it?

From the anime Katekyo hitman reborn.

I chuckled, Alessia patiently looking at me with twinkling eyes.

The name's too weird though.

"No. I'm horrible at naming stuff..." I answered, a small pout on my face.

She sniggered, "How cute."

I blushed slightly, "Alessia stop, i dislike compliments like that. I would accept good-looking and handsome but... just no,"

She eyed me weirdly.

A little panic electrocuted my body as nervously spoke up, " So have you thought of a name, yet?"

Alessia held her gaze at me but she finally let go and smiled, "Yes. I've thought of a perfect name."

I smiled. Typical. Always creative, she would've been a brilliant student in school. " Giotto Taru. His name is Giotto Taru. "

Giotto Taru? ...

I choked from my spit and elegantly tripped. I floorpalmed. The floor majestically smothering my face, smelling like a musty toaster.

That's probably just a coincidence... I looked at the child, calming my breathe. "Are you alright? Was it too bad?" She panicked rushing towards me, trying not to wake the baby. Now that i get a good look at him... He does have a little strand of blonde hair.

Definitely a coincidence.

" I-i'm fine... just, why Giotto Taru?" I shakily questioned.

" W-well, when i checked his eyes. It was an abnormal color like your hair. I-it wasn't white but it was light sunset orange. It just looked so mesmerizing and gentle. I felt as if i was sort of accepted? Which is weird because why would a baby accept me. I mean, Giotto means Gentle ruler... s-" Alessia stuttered.

The noise of my body hitting the ground interrupted her panicked speech.

I'm not familiar with the series but i'm familiar with my sister's fan girl rantings.

Maybe this was just a big coincidence. Or I just jinxed myself and shit just got real. I swear if I see life... I will forcefully fill you with my own faeces . -------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry, i had to get off the couch... I'll go back to it don't worry. It's too precious. Hope you enjoyed it, i guess...