#so what better way to beat art block then torture myself

[finnleyandsillys]

I drew @lexumpysfunland ‘s boy Walter-

↓Their drawing

As a sorta thanks for drawing Norvin :3 I know it's not that great and Ira a bit late but I've been art blocked lately and decided to test my digital skills after a month

Sorry if it's a bit bad but I hope you like it :D

[rhymingtree]

I am so (not) ready for the pain this is about to bring me. Apparently a lot of peeps on discord got mad at this chapter.

Gee I can't wait to find out why.

Ooh an already exciting opening... how fun

I'm really excited for the action to start again after the little respite we got at the hideout.

Lil clap for you because you're so good at introducing new settings.

It was made entirely of concrete blocks, carved and shaped into art deco reliefs that led to stained glass windows. The entrance was down a cobblestone pathway off the main road. A pair of bronze-roofed towers stood sentinel on either side of the wood and wrought iron doors. 

Yay art deco

Omg it's Clint and Ollie following her... which means there's a chance for him to remember what Ghost actually is like

start drawin' up venn diagrams Clint it's time to compare and contrast

You’d managed to catch the steel blue eyes of Bucky. 

I can already see myself crying in the corner after this chapter

Poor Duke... I didn't really think about how genuinely terrifying it must be to suddenly have a supersoldier husband. Now the risks that came with the job have gotten a lot worse, and though Jack may be stronger and better, they don't know if the serum is gonna flip out on him during a fight and turn him back into average ol' Jack... or worse.

THE FUCKIN' AMBUSH FLASHBACKS WITH OLLIE ACTING ALL SCARED 😭

Anything from that one specific chapter just makes me sad now...

Hey remember last night when out of the blue you sent me that one TikTok and quoted Danny and Ghost? 🙃

Got me replaying the whole thing all night. Torture, is what that was.

Poor Ghost is getting frequent headaches and powerin' through them... If that isn't relatable, I don't know what is.

OOOOH Ollie POV. I don't know why these bits are so fun. Because I hate him. So much.

“You never saw her in her prime.” He shook his head, “Give her a target and he was dead within hours. She’d rip ‘em apart without a second thought. Wouldn’t lose any sleep on it either.”

Maybe my memory is failing me again, but I don't recall Ollie giving them a fluke story about (F/N) other than her being a HYDRA sleeper agent. Did he ever mention actually seeing her in her prime the way he's talking about her now?

Like the time she jumped into a mission without a plan. Or the time she pushed him out of a plane. Or the time she and her damn fiance threw a missile into the desert and just hoped for the best. 

Ahh, good times... my favorite part was the whole missile bit. That was fun.

(F/N) was fast. She drifted through the crowd as though she was a…

Wait for it.... Waiiit for it.....

…Ghost. 

Cue main title theme. French horns and violins wooooooh

BUCKYYYY mah boiiiii

That picture has been through hell and back huh...

God it's been about two years since the chapter when she gave that to him...

Despite the possibility of (F/N)’s betrayal, Steve kept his hopes somehow intact and high. 

Trust Steve's instincts Bucky... because right now they're right.

“Relax.”

“Ain’t that easy, Romanoff,”

If I've learned anything in theshort time I've been here, it's that you should never tell a stressed out person to relax. Best case scenario, you get brushed off. Worst case scenario, you get your ass kicked to next Tuesday.

Wait is Clint drinking straight from the carton... ew

Ooh, Ollie's angwyy because she's selling his favorite toooy ☹☹

Clint shook his head, whispering under his breath and glancing at Walsh, “This is Paris all over again.”

Yeah, look at him as if he was actually there.

Had any of them checked if he had a strange scar on his thigh? One resembling an arrow wound?

Oh god, they're all coming down there... she's really about to face the whole lot of 'em... and only two of them actually know what's going on...

Oh wow. Steve said the f-word. He's really playing up his acting skills.

“Belov almost electrocuted Boone.”

Aw... I missed it. Christopher, do it again, I wanna see.

“We wanna see Jack beat the shit out of Walsh.”

... so is this gonna be why they all yelled at you, Darke?

“Black,” Boone hummed, “Like my soul.”

If Boone's soul is black, then I'm curious to know what Ollie's soul looks like. Is it as murky as an oil spill? As dirty as toilet water?

Jack's such a sweetheart... too good for this world...

His Montana

😭😭

What I'd give to be called a State as a term of endearment... or even a province.

But, knowing them and their shit luck, he was betting things were about to get a lot worse. 

I say that about myself every morning.

So why the hell was he excited?

Boone is rubbing off on you, Stevie.

Bucky couldn’t look forward to holding (F/N) again. He couldn’t look forward to looking into her eyes or seeing her smile and hearing her life again. 

(F/N) was dread now. 

And when Bucky found out who she really was—and that Steve was in on it—he wasn’t going to be happy. 

Sometimes the greatest love stories are tragedies before they're romances.

Other times, they're just a shitshow from start to finish.

This has been a shitshow from start to finish. As long as this shitshow has a happy ending, I'll be okay.

He’d gone from what should have been the happiest day of his life to finding out that his husband had been infected by the super soldier serum and that Walsh was after them again in less than 24 hours. 

Infected. Like it's a disease with no cure.

It's so interesting to see how she thinks of the serum, especially she and Bucky didn't get it by choice. The only person who has it because they chose to get it was Steve, and even then he felt duty-bound to do it.

The only people who have ever seen the serum as a gift or weren't given it without their consent turned out to be not so good people.

I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere, I'm just too stupid to make it sound more meaningful.

I'm forever grateful that Ari and Jesse get to hold each other like they do and don't have to know the feeling of letting go.

Captain Rogers and Mister Falcon... that's great.

Oh no... Peter...

😭😭 he's so psyched for this... poor boy

“But, Mr. Stark, I-I trained with her,” Peter stammered, practically pleading with the man now, 

“I kept up with—”

“Because she wanted you to, Parker,” he said softly, “She  let  you. You may have all of this buggy strength and weird sticky stuff, but she has experience.” 

Why is that genuinely heartbreaking

No let him go with you 🥺 he can handle it

He's so dejected now noooo

He patted his shoulder lightly before walking away, “Next time, kid.” 

Oh, there's a next time?

OOF NOW HE'S GOING THROUGH OLLIE'S STUFF HAHAHA

OH SHIT he's going through ollie's stuff no wait what if he finds something

Oh shit he's actually coming with them... i didn't mean it peter, no please stay

NO WHY IS HE HIDING IN A VENT

OH NO HE DIDN'T GO TO THE BATHROOM

A crooked grin curled to her lips as she took a step back, “Really makes your butt—”

“Do not comment on my husband’s ass, Cavanaugh,” Duke’s voice came from behind you as he stepped through the door. He scoffed to himself as he let his gaze rake over Jack’s form before a smirk rolled to his face, “That’s my job.”

Horny till the very end, huh?

“I don’t want him to turn into something like you.”

hmmm.... I see why you got yelled at now.

don't worry though, I won't. I get it.

 “I didn’t want to interrupt heartfelt moment.” 

How very sweet of her.

“What color?”

“Black. Your favorite.”

Like Boone's soul! 😁

OOOOH this was so good. It's like a really good penultimate to the season finale. I'm so excited for the next one.

You've given me hints as to how... intense the next one's gonna be, and since you finished off last year with a bang, I got a feeling you'll be outdoing yourself.

I'm so fricking excited for their showdown. I wonder if they manage to corner her enough to give her the antidote, and then find out it doesn't work...

And Peter... you said he wasn't coming. WHAT'S MY SPIDER BOY DOING IN AN AIR VENT ON HIS WAY TO COLUMBIA!?

CHAPTER 82: CHASING GHOSTS

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

By the looks of it, they were feeling the same way he was. 

Defeated. 

(F/N) was fast. She was a ghost in the streets. Nothing more than a passing shadow. 

He’d only gotten eyes on her once. Her passing was so fleeting he thought for a moment that he’d dreamed it. 

He was both longing for and loathing the thought of seeing her face-to-face again. One moment he wanted to fall back in her arms and take her home, safe and sound. Another, he wanted to kick her ass. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets with a glare, chewing on his cheek before he paused and his fingers skimmed over a piece of paper. Bucky glanced down as he pulled his tattered picture from his pocket and he rolled his eyes with a scoff. 

Somehow Steve had managed to talk him into not throwing away the damn picture he’d carried with him for so long. Despite the possibility of (F/N)’s betrayal, Steve kept his hopes somehow intact and high. 

Bucky scoffed with a shake of his head, swiping his thumb over her picture before carefully placing it back in his pocket. 

Steve’s unending optimism was something he envied. 

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

» CHAPTER 82: CHASING GHOSTS

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[toomanyfandoms02]

Kisses // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This is a request for both @boiled-onionrings and @aberrant-annie ! I ADORED writing this!!!

Summary - Reader is an artist with serious art block. So she decides to kiss her best friend all over and turn it into art.

Word Count - 2.2k

This is based off of THIS gif from @nationgubler

I loved being an artist, but with any career in the arts, there is a time where you have some kind of block.

And I was having artist block, right now.

I sat in my studio, my back laying against the floor of the cold tile. As if the ceiling was going to spark some kind of Vincent Van Gogh idea in my head. I lightly brought my hand to my face, slapping my forehead.

"Come on y/n! There's something in there, anything, anything!" My head lolled to the side in frustration, eyes closed. I let out a loud groan of frustration, very grateful in this moment for choosing the most soundproof room of my apartment to do art. This was out of courtesy of my very kind neighbors. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that something would come soon so I wasn't so damn angry. That's when I saw it.

The book Matthew had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago, sitting right next to my painting of lips, one of my best selling prints.

"Hmmm." I sat up slowly, contemplating if I should even ask this favor of him, but Matthew really cared about my career. Maybe I was in luck, so I dialed his phone number. He answered within 2 rings.

"Hey y/n, what's up?" He sounded out of breath, making his voice slightly raspy. This caused my heart to beat a bit faster.

"Uh, I have a favor to ask you, are you okay? You sound out of breath." I could hear him huff another deep breath.

"Yeah! I'm on a run in the park right now."

"Oh! Well don't worry about it then, I can save this-"

"No no! What do you need, I'm on my way home." This was honestly the most nerve-wracking thing ever, asking my best friend And someone I'm slowly falling for to do a kind of scandalous pose for a painting for me.

"It's kind of, weird. It involves art. I can't come up with any ideas and this one came into my head, you can totally say no, I won't-"

"Honey, good lord, I'm not gonna judge you, just tell me." He laughed in the end, easing my stress only slightly at the sound of it.

"Alright, it would be a portrait of you from waist up, but, also, I would, ugh. I feel weird about it!" I paused momentarily, sighing into the phone and making a pouty face that he *thankfully* couldn't see. "Then I would put kisses all over you, to like, I don't know."

"Spice it up?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over soon, I'm gonna take a shower. See you soon sunshine!" And that was it. Nearly no hesitation and he agreed to it.

*Why did I worry so much?*

Probably because you like him so much, *dumbass*.

I tidied up my studio as a distraction, waiting for a knock at my door. My wooden easel clicked on the floor as I set it near the big window in the room. I set a stool in front of it for Matthew, facing him towards it for good natural lighting. I plopped a 24x16 canvas onto the easel. My heart nearly jumped from my chest as I heard the knock at my door. I almost slipped running to it.

I opened the door to see a smiling Matthew. He was leaning against my door frame dressed in a white button-down and some regular jeans.

"I don't see you wearing any lipstick, how are you gonna manage putting kisses all over me without it?" He teased with a smirk.

This man really knew how to make my heart stop, it was almost insane how much of an effect he had on me. But I was surprisingly good at hiding it.

"I haven't put it on yet you nerd." I hit his chest lightly, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "You can still back out if you feel weird about this. And also, this is gonna take a while." I looked up at him nervously. He grabbed my shoulders, looking right into my eyes.

"I love helping you with art, stop thinking you're such a burden." He shook me a little, bringing another smile to my face.

"Fine, go sit on the stool back there and unbutton your shirt a few buttons," I ordered him as if I had any confidence when it came to him. I walked to the bathroom adjacent to my studio, grabbing my red lipstick and applying it in the mirror.

"I love the color!" Matthew shouted from the doorway of the bathroom, almost causing me to drag the makeup across my face. I pulled it away from my lips slowly, looking over at the idiot who was constantly scaring me. I gave him the death stare. He quickly brought his hands into a surrender position and backed from the room and into the studio. But not without giving me a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

"Sit!" I shooed him onto the stool I set up for him.

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted, sitting gracefully onto the wobbly seat.

"You promise this won't be too weird?" I asked a final time, a very *very* small part of me hoping that he would think it was too weird so I didn't have to torture myself even more with this horrible crush of mine. He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as to silently say.

*Do I really have to assure you again that I don't care?*

"Alright! Let go then." Another wave of anxiety shot through me as I leaned down to his level. My hands parted his hair to where I wanted it. I then kissed my thumb to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough to transfer, and sure enough, the red pigment was smudged onto the finger. Here we go.

I grabbed his face with both hands and brought my lips to his left cheek, leaving a kiss slightly above his cheekbone. I then left another kiss lower on the same cheek. On his right cheek, I put one right in the middle and one more near his chin.

I backed away from his face, pulling the lipstick from my pocket to reapply it. I watched his eyes as I put it on, seeing something I'd never seen in his eyes before.

"You okay Gubler?" I giggled a little, recapping the tube, I smacked my lips, ensuring that I got it everywhere. He blinked several times before shaking his head a little bit.

"Yeah! Uh, yes. Just zoned out." He nodded curtly, now venturing his eyes out the window.

"Okay weirdo." I chuckled. "I'm gonna kiss your chest now." I chuckled again, much more nervous than the previous one. He simply nodded and looked down at me with a small grin.

I got on my knees and opened his shirt a bit. Hopefully, he couldn't feel how much my hands were shaking, because let me tell you, I was *trembling*. I placed my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on the side of his neck first. I watched as Matthew sucked his lips into his mouth slowly tilting his head back. His hand was brought to his face and he left it there for a moment. I raised an eyebrow at him but quickly shrugged it off, I wasn't going to let this lipstick dry again.

I leaned down further, kissing his collar bone and then a final one near the center of his chest. At this point, Matthew was looking down at me again. He let off a loud breath and ran his tongue over his lips.

I stood up dusting my legs off, Matthew's eyes following me.

"Are you seriously okay? You're acting kind of funny." I came close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked like a puppy dog looking up at me from the stool.

"I've got a small headache I think." It was a quick answer that seemed like a lie.

"We can stop-"

"No!" I jumped back from him, startled. "No, it's seriously fine. I'm just gonna get ibuprofen from your cabinets." He stood so quickly and turned toward the door.

"I can get that for you!"

"No it's fine I got it." His voice was farther now, almost completely in the bathroom. Even from this far his voice sounded strangled.

*Was this weirding him out? It really seems like it was.*

I gathered my colors from my oil paint box and brought them to the small table next to my easel.

Just a few minutes later Matthew emerged from the bathroom, looking like he felt better.

"Looks like the ibuprofen is working fast." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He snickered, sitting on his stool with a suspiciously large smile. I just shook my head a walked up to pose him. I turned his shoulders slightly toward the window, opening the shirt to see the kisses. I frazzled his hair a little to give it a bedhead look and once I was happy with everything, I went back to my seat.

"Just look wherever is comfortable. I'm giving you free will on that." Of course, he chooses to look directly at me.

"You sure you wanna look at me during this whole process?" I joked, starting with some skin-colored paint on the canvas.

"Well yeah, you're the most interesting thing in the room." I could feel the tips of my ears burn at the comment, not bothering to hide the smile that formed on the face.

"Well, thank you." I kept my eyes on the canvas, partly because I was painting, and partly because I thought that if I looked in his eyes I might melt into a puddle.

-

I was finally done with the base of everything. I pretty much had an outline with the correct colors.

"Okay, I'm taking a break. Do you want to snack with me?" I stretched my legs as I stood from my chair, my arms flailing high in the air.

"Yeah, what are you getting?" His hands rubbed together like a mischievous fly.

"I made chocolate chip cookies last night. I'm gonna heat them up so they are melty." I excitedly padded my bare feet to the kitchen. I slipped 3 cookies onto a plate and placed them in the microwave for 20 seconds. My back leaned on the counter as Matthew peered over me at my cookies.

"Someones excited about cookies." I laughed, grabbing them for the microwave and setting them on the counter, eating half of it in one bite.

"And you say *I'm* excited." He replied with a mouthful, clearly poking at the way I ate the cookie.

"You just ate yours in one bite!" I shot back.

"Whatever." He grabbed another, eating that one whole as well, as melted chocolate, slipped down his chin. He raised his hand to wipe it off and I was not quick enough to stop him.

"I'll just touch it up when we go back." He looked at his hand that was a mixture of brown and red and made a pouty face at me. "It's fine, here." I handed him a rag to wipe his hands and we went back into the studio.

On the walk back I was already reapplying my lipstick so I could fix the smudge on his face. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, grabbing my makeup wipes to fix the smudge as well. He sat in the stool once again.

Much less nervous this time, I grabbed his face the same way I did before and kissed over the same spot, making it darker and more defined again. As I was about to pull away from his face, Matthew's hands grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaning away.

"What are you doing?" My heart hammered against my ribs, and at this moment I was hoping he couldn't hear it.

"Do you think there's anything else that needs to be fixed up?" His voice came out in a whisper, I could feel it against my face. "Do you think my *lips* should be red too?"

*Was he saying what I think he was saying?*

Apparently he was, because we both leaned in with closed eyes, connecting our lips. He pulled me into his lap on the stool, grabbing the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I was sure that I was getting lipstick on much more than his lips at this point.

After quite the makeout sesh, we pulled away, both panting.

"What was that for?" My brain was in a complete haze. I realized I was still on his lap and began standing up, only to be pulled back down by his hands.

"I decided to finally make a move." He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine.

"You mean, you like me?"

"No, I make out with everyone, all the time." He deadpanned. I giggled, running my thumb across his lips and showing his all the red that had transferred.

"Totally worth it." He smirked, kissing the tip of my nose sweetly.

*I'm not gonna get anything done with this man around.*

[jimmigmalingan]

Her Name Is Not “baby”, It’s JANET.

It’s not “Miss Jackson if you’re nasty” either, although just as iconic.

What better way to celebrate Women’s Month than to get to know a great embodiment of a strong and powerful woman. In fact, so strong and so powerful that my instinctive reaction when I first saw the invite to her journalism class was “Oh no.”

That was the G-Rated version of it actually. Nevertheless, same message. 

I barely even knew who she was or what her teaching style was going to be like. Her G-suite display picture just exuded “Oh no” energy. I mean that as a compliment.

I went straight to my friend from elementary school who shifted to Communication a year earlier than I did. I said “Do you have any tea on her?” The first thing he told me was that she had very high standards.

I like that, actually.

Back when I was in high school, which seems like very long time despite only having been a whopping three years, those were the types of teachers that I would consider my favorite ones. Ma’am Rachel from my English class, and Ma’am Elma from my Research and Biology class. Both of which actually went on to be school heads in different schools after we graduated.

I’m just here thinking to myself “God, I would’ve been excelling at her class if it isn’t for this stupid pandemic.” I clearly am not. We will get to that soon.

When we had the chance to organize an interview as a class, it invigorated me a tad bit. This is the closest I can get to having human interaction in an academic sense, but it was also my chance to have an idea or two of who ‘Janet Tibaldo’ was. Is she going to be the bane of my existence for the next four or so years or is she going to be alongside the people who I consider to be my “heroes”?

To my surprise, she’s very, well... human.

From what I’ve gathered in both of the interviews, our class’ and the other, she is a woman of strength. She is a passionate educator, a dedicated mother, and most of all, a woman of faith and devotion. In both of the interviews, she often emphasizes the importance of the “vertical relationship” in her life, and how it can have a positive effect in one’s horizontal relationships.

I do appreciate those remarks from her quite a bit, despite me having a rockier and more complex relationship with God as a queer person. I never considered myself an atheist. I do believe in God, and I believe that I am loved by God, despite knowing that people out there will try to convince me otherwise.

How could he possibly hate me when I pray to him too and he answers them just the same? It makes absolutely no sense to me.

When she said that you can fix your horizontal relationships once your vertical relationship is stable, it did strike a cord just as much as it struck a verve in me. I am trying to. It took me a while, but nevertheless I’m glad that I am here.

She often described herself as “strict”, both as a parent and an educator. It often surprises me how much bombardment my friend from elementary experiences from her subjects. The way he describes it to me sounds a bit like torture. I always took his words about her with a grain of salt. I will probably never believe him until I experience it first hand. He did say I was lucky that I shifted during online classes because she is a bit more lenient, otherwise I would’ve been dead meat.

If she was the monster that she’s painted out to be, I do understand why. It’s not like I don’t have a maternal figure or two in my life with eerily similar approaches. Like I said, she is a bit more human than what one would expect. She talked about her sleepless nights to dedicate herself onto her work, how she takes it upon herself when things go wrong, and how she said she hopes for a better and more empathetic world when I asked about her hopes for the future. To me she sounds like a person who stands her ground and knows exactly what she wants, even if it gets the best of her at times.

With that, she shared a peek of her younger days, how she spent her childhood during the Martial Law era, how newscasters on TV sparked her interest in the field of Communication, how in her college days they made do with the resources they had back then, emphasizing how lucky we are to have the technology we have now, how she was an activist back in the day. It painted a picture in my mind. Ahhh. No wonder.

There has always been ‘fire’ inside of her. A fire that lead her to be an educator today, despite having left the path of being a media practitioner.

I did think about it a couple of times. If being a visual artist doesn’t work out for me, maybe I’ll just teach. To me, it looks fun. She did say that she never thought in a million years that she would end up becoming a teacher because she thought it looked boring. According to her, lot of her family members ended up becoming teachers and she never wanted to be one of them. Maybe there’s some ugly parts of it that I don’t get to see, but it seems like a much more stable career path than visual arts, especially in a country like this.

Just from the interviews alone, you can tell that she has so much wisdom to offer in this field. That makes me all the more excited to meet her in person. If anything, there’s your proof right there that God is out there writing poetic justice for people. Maybe it was God’s way of saying “I have something better in mind for you, you just have to trust me.”

Another standout from the interviews was when she told all of us as a piece of advice that we should grab opportunities as they come. Oftentimes, the biggest regrets you have in life aren’t the things you did but the things you didn’t do. I have to admit, the main reason why this music video is taking too long to make is because of self doubt and insecurity. She’s right. I should toughen up a bit, shouldn’t I? Not only that, but there’s a lot of competitions that I found interesting in the facebook group that I just allowed to pass me by. I don’t want to blame my years in Architecture for it, because it did cause me some good. It’s just that I knew what I was running away from after years of feeling like I will never amount to anything. 

I knew that. If anything I was way bolder when I left high school, only for Architecture to beat me down. It does take someone like her to remind me of who I was then.

When I was going through my depressive episode late last year, ultimately leading me to shift to Communication, I found myself seeking refuge in the music of Janet Jackson. As a matter of fact, I shared her music to the same friend I mentioned earlier, and now he’s a fan too. We’d often joke about which Janet we were talking about in the conversation.

On one hand, we have Janet the popstar, who despite being blacklisted by Bush’s racist and misogynistic America, kept on going. She kept performing and making music for as recent as 2018, and now she’s inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. On the other, we have Janet the teacher, who keeps holding on to her faith despite all of the trials and challenges that came her way all these years.

What’s it about Janets being fiery passionate women anyway?

That actually leads me to my next point of interest.

What moved me the most about both of the interviews was her openness about her struggles with mental health, and how she refers students to seek help as well back when classes were physical. I don’t think conversations like these were possible back in the day, especially when I was a child. Apparently I didn’t have ADHD I was just an idiot, and people like me get punished for their idiocy. That was my upbringing, and it’s so refreshing to know that kids nowadays are lucky to have a ‘zeitgeist’ like this.

I was brought up for the longest time in the idea that if you show any signs of vulnerability, you are weak. It took some time for me to ‘rewire’ my brain and undo all of that...

because that is blatantly false.

If anything, for me, it further solidified how strong she was. It takes so much strength to admit that you’re human. It takes so much courage to tell yourself that you probably need help because you struggle in this aspect of your life. It is so easy to pretend that you can take everything like a champ and you don’t need anyone to help you.

The easy route was to say “I’m fine” or “I’m doing good” when asked a simple question “How are you?”, the hard route is to ask yourself that same question “How am I?” and be honest and introspective about it.

She did just that. She took the hard route.

She said she was having trouble sleeping and that she had to consult a mental heath expert for that recently, and that this pandemic made it particularly hard for her to juggle work and home matters.

I don’t think she will ever understand how a simple statement like that inspires someone like me, because what I got from that was ‘if somebody as strong and as passionate as her bleeds the same way that I do, I too can be strong like her.’

I just booked my appointment to my therapist yesterday. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in this, despite going there for feeling alone. Ironic, isn’t it? I feel like I’m running out of friends, and it’s starting to feel like paralysis, really.

After the interview ended, and I finished watching the interview from the other block, I couldn’t grasp the idea of this woman being taken as a monster, because the only words I could think of in association to her thus far is ‘uplifting’ and ‘inspiring’, in the same way that Ma’am Rachel was one of the people who inspired me to be a a cartoonist and Ma’am Elma inspired me to be a competitive dancer.

I had to give up three years worth of friendships to start back from scratch and to be here. I was actually so unsure if it was even worth the sacrifice, but Ma’am Janet Tibaldo, out of all people, showed me something to look forward to in this field. Based on what I’ve gathered from her, I’m up for a good time.

[winters-cursed-king]

Some People Pay- Chapter 1

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: The first term holidays were never going to be good for Sirius. Provoking Lucius Malfoy at a pureblood gathering made them even worse and McGonagall might be slightly concerned

Tws: Child abuse, physical abuse, violence, implied/referenced self harm, blood, torture, bullying (?) 

Fake Your Death Series || Read On AO3 || Chapter 2 

Sirius pushed the box of blades shut, taking in deep breaths. Blood trickled slowly down his forearms, but he couldn’t work out what was from the cuts lining his wrists and what was from his shoulders.

The letter shook in his hands, words blurring together as he tried to read it.

Good evening Sirius,

I hope your holidays have gone well and you are well refreshed for your second term at Hogwarts.

The uniform you gave me has been placed back in your dorm, alongside all your books. As per request, I have asked the house elves to avoid your bed however I expect it to still be kept tidy.

I would remind you there is a transfiguration essay due in on the first Friday back and if you are having any issues please come see me for help.

On the train back, I will be in compartment three. There is something that came out of the bag you gave me that I would like to talk about.

Regards,

Professor McGonagall

His hands shook harder as he folded the letter up, the paper scraping against his fingers as blood blotted the edges.

Pushing himself up off the wall was more difficult than he’d expected. His legs were weak under him, shaking and betraying him, and he almost tripped several times while trying to remove the false brick from the wall.

Carefully, he tucked the letter into the matchbox alongside the one from James. It was worn out, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. Hidden alongside his wand and the notes Remus, James, and Peter had written to him in class.

Slotting the fake brick back over the hole, he pulled the dress shirt off the rack, trying not to cough as dust was scattered across the room.

He buttoned it up slowly, hair pins in his mouth. He was careful not to pull too hard on the fresh cuts as he fixed the cuffs.

As he pushed his feet into the dress shoes, he pulled down the mirror. He had a blackeye, and his lip was slightly swollen, but it’d be fine.

He fixed the last pin in his hair. The bun was not messy enough to call it attention to it, but just messy enough to be a statement of rebellion.

He could feel the footsteps from the crowds downstairs and the voices discussing every piece of latest gossip. It rattled the black iron railing that ran down the halls and made the doors creak and shudder.

The staircase was long, and windy, and in full view of anyone in the ballroom. He could see the guests floating around in the candlelight, whispering to each other. He knew most of them by name, and all of them by deed. He could see Lucius showing off something on his arm, and Bellatrix carefully adjusting the hem of her skirt.

It took everything he had to stop his hands from shaking. He gripped the railing as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyes scanning for the safest corner to hide in.

How Lucius managed to cross the room in the span of milliseconds, Sirius would never know.

“If it isn’t our little blood traitor,” Lucius sneered.

Lucius was taller than him and broader than him and older than him. His white hair was pulled back off his face, held in place with a slytherin clip, and his fingers were dripping with rings.

“Fuck off.”

Lucius caught Sirius’ wrist, nails digging in deep, stepping closer and closer. “What did you say to me, runt?”

“I told you to fuck off. Go suck a dick or something.”

There was an art in keeping a cocky grin on his face. A sort of rhythm in the way he ignored the irregular beating of his heart and focused his eyes squarely on Lucius’ cold ones.

Lucius twisted his arm back, pushing him up against the railing of the stairs. It pressed against the cuts on his wrists and sent fresh flames of agony through his shoulders and back. On such an awkward angle, he couldn’t even stand up straight.

He leant in and whispered against Sirius’ ear, fist tightening around his wrist. “Do you want me to show you what we do to blood traitors?”

Sirius kicked at Lucius’ shins. “Get off me, you jerk. I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, Lucius,” Andromeda draped her arms over his shoulders. “Don’t you have better things to be doing?”

She had a fading bruise under her cheek bone, and her eyes were tired. Brown hair had been gathered meticulously into a silver bun net and her fingers were worn.

Lucius shrugged her off, digging his nails in deeper until he drew blood.

But he didn’t even look at her.

She gave Sirius an apologetic look, but walked off, her fingers twirling the loose strand of hair.

The punch hit Sirius in the chest before he even saw it.

“Fucking mudblood lover,” Lucius snarled. “Do you really want to make a mockery of us?”

“You do that just fine by yourself.”

Another blow caved Sirius’ stomach in.

He didn’t get a chance to breath before Lucius’ wand was pointing under Sirius’ chin, digging in sharply.

Pain burst through his body. It twisted patterns, igniting every bruise and cut. It laughed and snarled, biting at his skin and gnashing at his bones. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on anything but Lucius’ grin and the pain that ran through his bones.

“Oh Lucius!” Sirius’ mother fawned. “I couldn’t find you anywhere. How long has it been?”

The wand left Sirius’ throat instantly, and his wrist was released. But the pain wasn’t gone. His mother’s voice kept everything on edge- fists clenched, heart racing.

“Far too long, I’m afraid,” Lucius sidled. “I haven’t seen you since the end of school last year.”

Sirius’ breath caught in his chest. He couldn’t open his eyes, they wouldn’t work for him and he couldn’t make them. They were fixed firmly shut, unwilling to cooperate. He could feel his hands shaking and he hated it. He couldn’t show weakness. Especially not here.

His mother slapped him across the face, nails digging into his skin.

His vision was blurry. His mother’s pearls seemed to reflect the too bright light, her black netting obscuring his view of the room. Her snake headed cane tapped against the marble floor.

“What took you so long? Do you exist to ridicule me?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to watch whatever scene you were making,” he shrugged.

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He was tired, and sore, and school started again in a couple of days.

Lucius’ smug smile said it all.

“I should’ve locked you up in the attic,” she growled lowly. “Be grateful I’m too kind to do what I should’ve. If you had any parent but me you wouldn’t be here, you can bet on that.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Do you want a taste of what responsible parents do to their blood traitors?”

The head of her cane hit just under his chin, tilting his head up slightly.

He raised his chin to look her in the eyes, words turning bitter and painful before he spoke them. “How bad could it be?”

The cane sent a sharp burst of pain across his chin, hitting his split lip. He could taste blood, feel it trickle down his chin.

He didn’t even have time to focus on it. Time and time again his mother’s rings scraped across the skin of his cheek, drawing blood, and the cane sent bruises blossoming across his body.

She stayed detached, upright, observing with cold eyes. Sometimes he thought it’d be better if she yelled or screamed or snarled.

He fell into the routine he’d perfected over the years. Taking shallow breaths, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, biting his lip to keep the tears from forming.

The room was spinning around him in a blur of light when the blows stopped. It took all of his willpower to stand up straight and look his mother in the eye.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He could see Cygnus nodding in approval, and Lucius’ smug, aloof grin.

The only one looking away was Andromeda. She was staring at the ground, hands shaking in her lap, whispering something to Regulus.

But he wasn’t listening.

He was watching Sirius with wide eyes and fists clenched around his robes. His chest was rising and falling jaggedly, with the trained restraint of someone who couldn’t show fear.

Sirius caught his eyes, trying to fix his face into an easy going, reassuring smile. Everything was going to be ok.

But Regulus looked away, his face quickly going blank.

Sirius leaned back against the railing, ignoring the shots of pain from the not quite healed gashes on his back, and laughed as best he could through the raspiness.

“Is that all you’ve got, you old bat?”

Shots of pain pressed against the skin of his wrist, carving patterns and letters he couldn’t bring himself to look at. Bursts of purple and red cut through his mind, blocking out his vision entirely, and he could feel his throat constrict. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see. He was numb except for the blinding white pain that became his only tether to reality.

This was it. This was how he was going to die.

He couldn’t remember anything after that. He’d be able to feel the agony in his veins for the rest of his life, or the feeling of his skin splitting open and his bones splintering. He’d be able to say how hoarse his throat had been for days after or how the fury in his mother’s eyes was permanently ingrained in his mind.

But the details were gone as soon as it had happened. A massive dark gap in his memory that stretched for an indeterminable amount of time and hid images that haunted him in nightmares.

He could remember the aftermath, though. He could remember falling to his knees, face a mess of tears and blood, body shaking and breath trapped in his chest. He could remember the cold marble against his split skin and how he hit his head on the railing.

He could remember that one last glimpse of Regulus’ pale face before everything crumbled into an empty, unforgiving darkness.

[badbookreviewclub]

Compete Review - Stones to Abbigale, by Onision

Disclaimer: This review will contain spoilers… if you haven’t already watched the seven billion book reviews there are for Stones to Abbigale. I won’t be linking to where you can buy this book because I don’t want to support Greg… James… whatever the fuck he’s going by now. If you look hard enough, you can find it for free online. 

Stones to Abbigale is the first book published by Onision. I’m sure we already all know about Onision and how horrible he is, if not I highly recommend going to Youtube and watching The Right Opinion’s videos on him. They’re very enlightening as to the kind of person that Greg is. Anyways, this review isn’t about Onision (kind of), it’s about his book. I couldn’t figure out where the book was published, aside from a small stamp at the very last page just saying it was published via Amazon.

The Summary: There isn’t one. Fuck. The Characters: James - Simp who likes to act like he’s the hero, but also the victim. Definitely Onision’s self-insert.

Abbigale (Abbi) - A very traumatized person who is written very poorly

Jason - The jock who’s there to make James look like the victim but also the hero

Davis - a character who has no impact on the story and could be completely written out. His presence affects nothing. 

Ms. Robertson - The school counselor who could never actually be a school counselor Mr. Hanson - The history teacher

The Problems: Aside from a multitude of grammatical errors and some spelling errors, this book is just a mess. The characters are incredibly inconsistent to the point of being unrealistic (e.g. one moment Jason is the bad guy and the next he’s James’s best friend). Actually, in general, none of these characters are realistic. It’s really easy to read this story in Greg’s voice because it all sounds just like him. They speak with the same mannerisms that he does and like they all read a psychology book in fifth grade and now they think that they know everything about people and how they work. It’s annoying and incredibly frustrating, actually. 

Another big problem that this book faces is that everything is written in big blocks of text, without regard for needing commas or periods. This makes reading dialogue incredibly difficult and at times can make it really hard to decipher just who is talking. I’m convinced after reading Stones to Abbigale that Onision doesn’t know what the enter bar is. Take this for example, “As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look, as I normally didn’t walk her that far, I said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you, we have the same class now.’ She replied, ‘Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick.’ I said, ‘Not if you drop Mrs. Stanley.’ She pushed me playfully saying ‘Jealous!’” Let’s split the dialogue up now (and add in proper punctuation. 

As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look; I normally didn’t walk her this far. “Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. We have the same class now,” I said. “Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick,” she replied.  “Not if you drop Mrs. Stanely,” I said. She pushed me playfully, “Jealous!” 

This is a lot easier to read and aside from word choice, it’s not terrible. It could paint a picture a lot easier with better word choice, but this is Onision’s first book so I guess I can cut him a tiny tiny tiny bit of slack on that. Actually, no. This could use better word choice to paint a better picture and make them seem less like cardboard cutouts. 

Another problem is the plot itself. The ‘climax’ of the book, if you will, happens almost at the beginning of the book, which is fucking absurd. It makes the rest of the book feel pointless and like it’s dragging on. 

The Book: 

Chapter 1

We meet our main character, James. Except we don’t know his name is James yet. We do know that he paints his walls, his ceiling, and even his bedframe a startling white however because he “likes to inflict mental torture” on himself. Not sure why he does this, but he does. I think I’ll be the first to say that in any white suburban neighborhood, you could walk into just about most children’s rooms and find white as the standard (at least, that’s how it is in my neighborhood). Why? Fuck if I know. White just looks nice with most furniture, I guess. 

Anyways, our main character is late to school and rushes out the doors with a note he scribbled for an excuse as to why he was late. Yay, we finally get James’s name from Mr. Hanson, who couldn’t give less of a shit that James was late. He just wants to talk to him after class. James starts people watching to an almost creepy extent, trying to get into people’s heads and assuming what they were thinking. If you haven’t read any of my other reviews, you should know, I am not overly fond of when someone tries to assume someone else’s thoughts in this way. Where they psychoanalyze them without have a single hint of qualification. It’s annoying in storytelling. That’s not to say I’m not guilty of having a character do that at times, but I’m trying to be more aware of it and to stop writing like that. With how James is written, however, it’s clearly intentionally and gives off r/im14andthisisdeep vibes. 

Anyways, James rushes off to art class so he can see Abbi. He has never talked to Abbi a day in his life but spends a lot of his time thinking about her and wanting to be with her and basically, just being a simp. He puts too much value on Abbi without ever having talked to her and having no reason to do it, his world revolves around Abbi and she has never so much as shared a word with him. 

But he’s basically staring at Abbi, waiting to say something to her when his hand brushes up against some chewed up gum under the desk and he yells ‘EW’. This doesn’t stop Abbi from wanting to pair up with him however when the teacher gives them an assignment they need partners for. Abbi was originally paired up with Jason, who I guess makes Abbi uncomfortable. That’s understandable that Abbi would want to switch if that was the case, but Onision doesn’t lay it out like that. Instead, it’s laid out that Abbi wants to be paired with James just because. 

Abbi has shown no care for James at the beginning of the book and seemingly before this even started she never seemed to care for or about James. Suddenly though, as soon as the story starts, she cares. She wants to, needs to be with and around him. Why? Because the main character always has to get the girl. 

Anyways, Abbi gives James a piece of paper with ‘NISEONE’ written on it. Apparently, this is her phone number because, on a number pad (the ones with the letters), it is 647-3663. It doesn’t state this outright, so it took me looking at some other reviews before I figured this out. 

We also learn in this chapter that the school is practically falling apart and is dripping with sludge or mold, or something, so I don’t know what kind of school James goes to, but it’s not a good one.

Chapter 2

James goes and talks to Mr. Hanson and it turns out that Mr. Hanson wants James for a TA position. Because ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? I guess James shows a lot of potential, even though he’s late like… all the time. Anyways, the night before Abbi and James decided to make, not a Frankenstein(‘s monster) teddy bear by combining two of their stuffed animals, rather, they’re making a zombie stuffed animal. And it turns out that Abbi wasn’t at class. For what reason? I don’t fucking know. The next day Jason comes to bug the class for some fucking reason because he got kicked out of his own class. There’s absolutely no reason for Jason to be there aside for James to stand up to him because Jason was ‘bullying’ Mr. Hanson. Anyways, Jason gets pissed off because of this and while James is on his way to the art class, Jason beats James up. I’m pretty sure this was only done to make James look like the victim (wonderful :P). James gets suspended for two days because he pushed Jason and Jason is suspended for nine days. 

Before he can leave to go home, James sees Abbi and Seth having what I can only assume is a one-sided fight. Seth is yelling and being very aggressive towards Abbi, and Abbi is just taking it. So James walks her home after Seth gets pissed and leaves. I guess it was raining this entire time, so as they’re walking home, Abbi’s makeup runs and James sees the bruises on her face. When Abbi asks if James sees them, he says “I see a beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain” (pg 31) (by the way I HAD TO NUMBER ALL THESE PAGES MYSELF). Anyways, cheesy romance, it’s clear Greg doesn’t read his lines out loud and I don’t think James does a single thing to try and help Abbi get out of her abusive situation. He just tells her that she’s beautiful. James is also absurdly upset about the suspension at this point. Like, ridiculously upset. Like you love school so much and the thought of not being able to go feels like the end of the world upset (I was that person in school). But… James has shown absolutely no reason for why he is as upset as he is? Like he genuinely is about to cry over this but he has shown absolutely no care about school before, so it’s just confusing.

Chapter 3

James has a dream that Abbi is being eaten by the ground. He wakes up and writes her a kind of creepy letter about how, despite having only had three conversations with her, he loves her and lives to be with her. He emails it to her and a few minutes later Abbi calls him. She wasn’t aware of the email but invites him to meet her at the Quick Shop. She says that she’ll read the email before she meets him there. She never meets him there (shocker). Chapter 4 

James finally goes back to school and sees that Abbi isn’t in the art trailer still. But the mishmash stuffed animal bear thing is there. Under it is a note from Abbi asking James to meet her behind the church. Rather than stay for the class or anything like that, James bursts away to go to Abbi’s side. 

Abbi tells James that the note weirded her out a little bit, but she was just nervous. She tells him that she has been absurd by Seth and that her mother abandoned her and that her father doesn’t care about her. The only comfort James is able to offer her is that every time he sees her, she’s more beautiful to him than she was before. 

Chapter 5

James’ Mom has a boyfriend who comes out of fucking nowhere named Rick.

At school, James has his schedule rearranged so he can be Mr. Hanson’s TA and so he can still have a class with Abbi. Now he has gym with her. We meet Mr. Mack, who I guess is Jason’s uncle. He’s also the only teacher that James bonds with, I guess. Ms. Robertson, while reorganizing James’ schedule gives him an ominous warning that Abbi is no good and that he should stay away from her. 

Abbi and James spend the rest of the night on the phone, talking to each other. 

 Chapter 6

A few days have passed. Rick and James’ mom announce that they want to move in together. James thinks his life is over and that he’ll never get to see Abbi again. Later that night James suggests to his mom that she just let him live in the house by himself with Abbi and she just agrees to it. Supposedly his mom doesn’t even have enough money to get him a shitty cell phone either, so I guess Rick must be fucking loaded.

Chapter 7

It’s the infamous school shooting. After figuring out that the school is being shot up by Seth, the bus driver does as any rational human being would do and drives away to get everyone to safety. Then he does something that nobody would do and lets James off the bus after James threatens to jump off (despite there being no way that he could?). James rollerblades to the school through the blur of his tears and bursts in. He sits in the puddle of blood in front of the school to get his rollerblades off before rushing in through his tears to find Abbi. He finds Seth first, but rather than being the one to save the day, it’s Jason who saves the day and beats the shit out of Seth. James finds Abbi after this and the two of them sit together while the paramedic patches up James’ feet because he ran through glass while looking for Abbi. Chapter 8 

They’re back at school and a spokesman for the president gives a speech. They see Mr. Mack on a projector and he tells them in gruesome detail about how he tried to take down Seth and how Seth shot him. Definitely what a bunch of traumatized teenagers needed to hear and see. Chapter 9 James and Abbi go to her house, where Abbi’s father drunkenly stumbles out and starts threatening Abbi. A policeman who James claims probably sees too much of this on a daily basis stands to the side (because he just so happened to be nearby with is K-9 partner) and waits for something to happen. Something happens with Abbi’s father smashes James over the head with a beer bottle. The K-9 rushes forward and latches on to him and James claims that the officer is sadistic and likes to see people suffer. He then claims not even two paragraphs later that the cop is numb to what’s going on. Which is it? Is he sadistic or is he a dead-beat cop who sees too much of this shit? 

Abbi’s father is arrested and James decides to press charges. This is how Abbi ends up staying with James. 

Chapter 10 

The president shows up and nothing comes of it. He promised that he would answer everyone’s questions and talk to everyone. He only talks to two people, James and another kid, named Chris. Chris just asked why the president was such a D-Bag and the president just says “that’s President D-Bag to you.” James asked what the president thought of what people said about him and the president goes on this long diatribe about freedom of speech. 

Chapter 11 

Abbi wants to talk to James but insists that they do it in the shower. For some reason, James agrees to this and Abbi comes out of the shower to show all of her self-harm scars. Once again, James does nothing than tell her she’s beautiful and that’s about it. They almost fuck after this, but don’t because James’s mom is home. 

Chapter 12 

James and Abbi stay home to help his mom pack. Later they go to the park to stargaze and affirm to each other that they want kids. 

Chapter 13 

Abbi leaves James a big long note for him to read in class about how she was raped by some boys. Mrs. Roberston helped to get those boys in jail, but after finding out that Abbi was pregnant, she insisted that Abbi keep the baby because she is very pro-life. Seth found out about the baby and punched Abbi in the stomach until she miscarried. James’ response to the note is to go straight to Abbi’s classroom and make out with her in front of everyone and on the desk. He goes back to history class and Mr. Hanson basically high-five’s him for doing this, despite the fact that he walked out in the middle of class to do it. 

Chapter 14 

It’s Christmas break. They fuck. 

Chapter 15

James beats the shit out of Jason because Jason was groping Abbi. For some reason, when the principle comes out to confront everyone about this, Jason doesn’t rat on James.

Chapter 16

While driving somewhere with James and Abbi, Davis rushes out of the car into the middle of the freeway because he sees a man hanging from a rope from an overpass. Davis is killed. This is the only purpose that Davis serves in the entire story. It’s to die so James can be the victim once more because apparently if he was never born so he could never be in Davis’ life then this would have never happened. Survivor’s guilt is a thing, don’t get me wrong. But what Onision is using here isn’t survivor’s guilt. It’s James twisting the situation so he’s the victim still. 

Chapter 17

Davis’s funeral. Nothing happens besides James playing the victim some more. 

Chapter 18

Mr. Hanson and Mrs. Roberston confront James and they want him to become Class President. James doesn’t want to but it doesn’t seem like they’ll take no for an answer. A little while later Abbi, while walking with James, is pulled into the front office for some questioning by police. Mrs. Roberston shouts in front of everyone that Abbi was responsible for the school shooting. Because… you know… that’s a reasonable thing to do…

Abbi confronts James later that night and tells him that she wrote in a note to Seth, when she was in a really bad place, that she just wished everyone would disappear (not unreasonable and something I’ve done before). James, being the little bitchy drama-queen that he is, storms off to take a dramatic shower. While sitting in the shower though he realizes that Abbi did nothing wrong and comes back. Abbi immediately accepts him again and isn’t upset that he suddenly stormed off after she told him something rather hard for her to do. They make out (and probably fuck).

Chapter 19 

Abbi gets a bucket of paint thrown on her while she’s coming into the school and James punches the kid who did it. The principle shows up and both intimidates and threatens the kid who threw the bucket of paint. He also calls Mrs. Roberston into his office after James tells him that she told everyone that Abbi was responsible for the shooting. 

Chapter 20

Mrs. Roberstson was fired and burned down the entire school in retaliation. All the students get passing grades for the rest of the year (which is about 6 months of school left by the way). James ends off the book by saying “Well, I guess this means I won’t be running for President.” 

The book drags and has a lot of pointless info in it. At one point it genuinely made me feel sick how he was using Abbi’s trauma throughout the book to write a very, very poorly conceived hero fantasy. All the characters are unrealistic and nobody means anything to the story other than Abbi and James. I’m just glad it was a fast read. There are huge info dumps in the beginning, but as you can see, the rest of the chapters can be summed up in less than a fucking paragraph. The climax of the book comes way too early (the school shooting) and in general, it’s just a poorly written plot. It feels like a first draft that should have been taken back to the drawing board to be reworked until the shooting could become the ultimate climax of the book. It was rushed, and because it was rushed, the rest of the book dragged on. 1/10 stars. I didn’t hate it as much as I’ve hated other books, but it wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination. 

[another-blog-bites-the-dust]

The journal.

Summary: After accidently leaving your journal at a cafe, your closest friends can't help themselves and start to read it...a person that you write about in particular the most reads it too.

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst, lots of fluff.

A/N: Y'all I don't know about you but I just needed some John fluff 😫 I hope you enjoy and enjoy the little poem(ish) type bits I've wrote! (They are in bold italics!) 😁💖

You checked your watch and loudly gasped "Oh god! I'm supposed to be having dinner with my mum and dad! I said I'd be there half an hour ago!" You frantically collected your things- a little too fast. Your bag fell and you let out a sigh, you were halfway through fastening your jacket.

"I've got it," John bent down under the table and scooped the contents back into your bag. You really didn't care how messy it was.

"Thanks, Deaks." You quickly pecked his cheek and the cheeks of Brian, Mary and Roger. Freddie had a date with Jim so they both took a rain check to meet up with you all at the cafe for a catch up another day. "See you all soon!" You waved them goodbye and rushed out the door. John's eyes didn't leave your frame until you had completely vanished from sight.

Roger sipped on his coffee then furrowed a brow when he kicked something. He glanced down and spotted a bright yellow notebook.

Your journal.

"Oh! Look what fell out her bag!" Roger grinned and picked it up from the floor. Mary, John and Brian all went wide eyed and held in a breath of air. There was a lot of speculation around the thing now being held by Roger. They had all seen you writing it, they didn't know what you did in it or what you used it for. They just knew it was a sacred object- a piece of you.

"What are you doing?!" Mary snapped and yanked it out of Roger's grasp when he was about to open it. "You can't read her journal!"

"Oh come on, Mary!" Roger grabbed it back off her. "This is the only chance we'll probably ever get! Aren't you just as curious as me to find out what Y/N spends all day writing about?" He asked.

John sighed "Mary's right, Rog. You're invading her privacy. If Y/N wanted us to see what was in it, she would have told us." John was always very protective over you. He had known you since the pair of you started primary school. He was unbelievably shy, standing in the corner clutching on to the straps of his school bag while he watched everyone play. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned. You were there with your hair in bunches with bright yellow ribbons tied into a bow where the bobble was tied around each bunch of hair. You asked him if he was alright, he had no idea what to say so he shyly looked away. You were the only one who had talked to him all day- the only person who had made an effort. You took his hand and introduced yourself as you walked him over to the swing set. You pushed him first and when John finally began adjusting to your company he then offered to push you.

"I like your ribbons," he said.

"Thanks- yellow is my favourite colour!" You grinned, a tooth that had been wobbly for months was missing- you had spent the day before trying to wiggle it out of its spot.

John smiled back. "I like yellow too."

Back in the cafe, Brian disapprovingly sighed at Roger who was acting like a five year old waiting to open a new toy as he tapped the hard cover of your journal like it was a drum kit. "Just one page!" He whined.

"No Roger!" John sternly spoke.

"Fine," Roger held up the journal, ready to pass John the thing so he could return it to you. "Whoops!" He grinned when he let the journal fall to the table, opening at a page with words and little doodles on it.

"You did that on purpose," Brian nudged Roger with his elbow. They all peered at the page, their curiosity getting the better of them. "Stars...?" Brian murmured at the title on the page- there was little drawings of stars surrounding the block of words- not exactly a poem- in the middle of the page.

'Stars-

People say stars are cold and distant- like lovers when love hasn't worked in their favour. I don't see stars like that. I see them as little bursts of delight. Someone's wishes. Someone's plea. People rely too much on them to bring them their dreams I think. But perhaps that's not such a bad thing. Perhaps people should tell stars their dreams more.'

"That is so lovely!" Mary gushed. "So poetic!"

John kept his eyes firmly fixated on the page, in all the years he had known you- he never knew you were that good with words."What about that one?" Roger glanced to the next page, they all now found themselves being pulled into your journal by some kind of invisible string. "It's called 'Sunflower'."

'Sunflower-

My dear darling friend. She reminds me of a sunflower. She shares the names of Queens of past and perhaps future. A partner in crime- she's so pretty it's illegal. She is as precious as the jewels the Queen wears- and yes, I'm thinking more of Fred than her royal highness. But she's a sunflower. Bright. Bold. Beautiful. Radiant. Warm. They're yellow. My favourite. As is she.'

"I think she's talking about you," Roger looked up to Mary who had tears in her eyes.

"Oh that's so beautiful! She's so sweet and talented!" Mary grinned and let Brian flip another page. It was the beginning of another part and the four of them felt a bubble of tension burst. They already knew the words behind the ominous page they were looking at were going to be different to the other things you wrote.

An almost blank page. It had one bold three letter word on it.

HIM.

The words in the next few pages were going to be intimate, they could tell. The group shared a wary glance- well all except John who was glaring at the page. It was only oblivious to you and him that the pair of you were in love each other and had been for a long time- everyone else could see that. Brian noticed the look. "Maybe we should-"

"Let's read it." John gritted out. The very person who was completely opposed to reading your journal was now desperate to. The consequences of doing so could cause irreversible damage.

'His smile-

That smile. Almost infectious. Every single time I see it, I smile myself. Maybe that's why he smiles- because he subconsciously thinks of others and how their day will brighten when he flashes those priceless pearls. Sometimes his nose crinkles when he grins. Canyons of joy making their way to his cheeks and lips before disappearing before they reach there. When he laughs there's usually a smile on his face. It's gorgeous. Someone should paint it and then place in a museum- it is such a work of art. His smile sparks sheer happiness. Especially when it reaches his eyes whenever he is so gleeful. Oh don't get me started on his eyes.'

John swallowed hard, the other three felt compelled to snap shut the journal to stop John from torturing himself by reading your beautiful words. Roger tried to pull away the book from him but John tightened his grip on it and they read the other block of writing on the next page.

'His eyes-

The only place I find myself lost in- even when I'm standing in a familiar spot. It's a good type of lost. The kind where you accidentally find yourself being after turning one too many wrong corners, but you find the most magical of places in the place you eventually end up in. His eyes. Oh...you got me started. They hold hope. They hold dreams. They hold stars. They hold answers to questions you didn't even know you had. I've drowned in them more times than I can count. I don't want rescuing though. Sometimes they'd be covered by his hair. But that's something else to talk about entirely.'

Mary placed a hand on John's arm. "Maybe that's enough." She could see a mix of conflicted feelings on his face.

"One more..." he croaked out. It probably wouldn't be the last one he read.

'His hair-

Change. That's the style. He changes it so often that I couldn't tell you what way he had it last week, or right now, or even next month. He let me braid it once. Hated it. Secretly loved it, of course. I liked wrapping it around my finger when it was long. Then he cut it. It looked lovely. Always does. He'd suit any change.'

There was two on the one page. He felt like he had to read them. He needed to.

'His heart-

Sadly not mine.'

John felt like punching 'HIM'. You had spilled your heart out onto paper for 'HIM' and yet you never got his love in return.

'My heart-

Belongs to HIM. Forever.'

It was like he had looked at your soul. He felt as if he had exposed you. Stripped you bare. "I have to give her this back." John's voice barely raised above a whisper and he shut the bright yellow journal over, protectively wrapping his hands around it but at the same time he felt like he had his hands around the neck of the person who he only knew as 'HIM'. The three of them stood up but he held out his hand. He just needed to be alone at the moment. He slowly made his way down the street, he stopped at a play park halfway between your flat and the cafe. He sat down on one of the swings, his legs couldn't carry him any further. John's heart struggled to beat. He felt jealously fork through his veins. Who was this person? Why did you have to be so vague and call them 'HIM'?

You grabbed your bag after having dinner and your whole body froze. You couldn't see the flash of yellow that you had always seen. You searched through your bag, almost tearing it to shreds as panic set it when you realised that your journal wasn't there. The only place it could be was the cafe. So after bidding a hasty farewell to your parents, you rushed back to the cafe. By the time you got there, it was shutting.

You frantically banged on the glass of the door and one of the waitresses noticed you. She opened the door "I'm sorry but we're shut."

"I know, I just really need to see if I left something here. My bag fell and everything fell out and I've lost my notebook. It's bright yellow. Can I have a look? I swear I'll only be a few minutes!" You cried out and the waitress could see how upset and distressed you were.

"Course," she smiled and let you in "I'll help you look." You walked as fast as you could to the back booth and got on your hands and knees to look under the table. You let out a small groan when you saw nothing there. The waitress frowned and looked over her shoulder. "Hey, Deb?" She called out and another woman popped her head out from behind a doorframe that lead to the kitchen. "Weren't you serving these tables today?"

The woman, Deb, emerged "Yeah I was. I recognise you from earlier!" She grinned at you "Is everything alright?"

"She's lost her journal- a bright yellow one. Have you seen it?" You were full of hope that she had picked it up.

Deb turned to you with a grin "One of the boys you were with took it with him. I noticed him holding it when he left."

You let out a reserved sigh of relief. A part of you was glad that someone had it- the other was worried that they were reading or had read what was inside it. "What did he look like? The blonde one? The one with the black curly hair?"

"No," Deb smiled "The quiet one with the brown hair."

You let out a shaky sigh and nodded. "Okay, thank you both so much." You sent them both a small smile before leaving the cafe and walking home. Then you spotted a figure on the swing set, slowly, almost dismally, using a leg to swing himself. You spotted a flash of yellow. It was like he was holding your heart in his hands. "John!" You called out and jogged to him, his eyes quickly looked up and found you standing in front of him. "You found it." You nodded at the yellow journal. He looked down at it and then held it out for you to take. You did, very carefully before hugging it against your chest. "I thought it was gone for good," John noticed the tears in your eyes.

"I'd help you hunt it down- even if it meant walking the entire earth." He whispered, his own eyes welling up. "I know how much it means to you."

You sat down on the swing beside him, still clutching your journal next to your heart. "Did you read it?" You asked, eyes flashing with bolts of worry and fear- yet still slightly foggy from the tears that had welled up in them.

John opened his mouth and shut it again. He was going to say no but he couldn't lie- not to you. "I did."

You looked to your feet and bit the inside of your cheek. Your heart could put Roger playing his bass drum to shame at the moment it was thumping so hard. "And?" You wanted to know what he thought. His face wasn't giving anything away. "What did you think?" You quietly asked.

John let out a long sigh, it was only then that he realised that he had been holding in a breath. "You're a good writer, Y/N. The person you call," he had to bite down on his tongue and swallow hard "'HIM'...is a lucky guy."

"I'm lucky to have him in my life." You looked at him grinning. He looked sad, disappointed...jealous?

"Who is he?" John almost spat out "Do I know him?"

You furrowed your eyebrow intently "You...you didn't read the last page, did you?" John shook his head, a confused look flickered across his face. You opened the journal and turned to the very last page. "It's called 'John'." You didn't see his eyes shoot open or his jaw drop ever so slightly.

"John-

I'm not sure what I could write that will possibly do him any justice, but I'll try. John. John Richard Deacon. I think the best day to ever exist is the 19th of August 1951. He was born that day. I thank his parents every day for blessing this earth, and me, with him. He wraps gifts he gets me in yellow because he knows how much I love it.'"

You stopped yourself before reading the next line. He had already seen too much of your journal not to hear it. "'But I love him even more.'" You finally admitted and he went wide-eyed finally hearing your voice say those words.

"'He wore yellow trousers once- I secretly hoped he did that for me. Even if he didn't, he perfectly suited them. He's always so kind. He's always so thoughtful. He once took care of me when I was ill. I told him to stay back incase he became unwell but he didn't listen. He's so selfless. I love him. I always have. Even in my past lives, I'm sure. I love him.'" You spoke the last words in a whisper before softly shutting over the bright yellow journal and reaching across to hold his hand that was on the chain of the swing- he had stopped swinging a while ago. "You're 'HIM'."

A tear slipped down his cheek and his face lit up when he happily smiled. "I did wear those trousers for you," he let out a watery chuckle before standing up. You did the same but he pushed down on your shoulder slightly, making you sit on the swing again. "I love you too. So much. God, it killed me thinking that you were writing about someone else." He wiped away the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand.

You reached your hand up and helped him wipe away his tears of joy. "Why would I write about someone else? It's you, John. Always." He leaned down and finally- after years of practicing on his hand and imagining it was you- kissed you.

He pulled back after a few minutes, both your lips tingling from feeling one another's for the first, of hopefully many, times. "Do you have a pen?" He asked. You nodded and took it out of your handbag. "Can I?" He silently motioned to the notebook and you handed it to him. He flicked to a page near the end and scribbled something before handing you back your yellow journal. He kissed you again with a grin "Hold on tight."

He went behind you and began pushing you on the swing. You opened the book to the page he wrote in.

'His heart-

Sadly not mine. Belongs to HER. Forever.'

———————–————

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[hanayuki23]

Sunkissed

There wasn’t a single person on that island that had not heard of Roxas and his statues.

Despite his young age, the boy was an established sculptor and was respected by all the inhabitants of his village. Many of them visited his household to admire the marvelous sculptures exposed by the artist in his own garden: there were dogs, cats, birds on the verge of spreading their wings, so neat and detailed that they were able to convey life through their hollow eyes, girls dressed with such light and delicate dresses that the bystanders, delighted, had to touch the folds over and over again to be sure that they had really been carved in marble. People found it hard to tell fact from fiction, and they often stood perfectly still by the works, eyes widened, as if they were the true statues, avoiding to blink and hoping to be able to grasp the slightest movement of the sculptures.

It was actually rumored, indeed, that the statues could come to life, and there was even someone willing to swear to all the gods of Olympus that they saw them moving and changing expressions. The most sceptical assumed that it might had been just a trick of light and shadows that were constantly moving according to the position of the sun, while the most devoted claimed that Apollo was so in love with the boy’s art that he moved the sun itself just to animate it.

It was undeniable that the young sculptor had a talent never seen before, and the islanders were firmly convinced that such a talent had been bestowed to him directly by Apollo himself, of which the boy was a fervent devout, and it only took a look to the boy’s features to confirm this theory. Roxas was without a doubt the most beautiful boy on the island, with unruly hair golden like the weath, eyes blue like the sea, sunkissed skin covered with freckles that created a smooth contrast with the candid robe he used to wear. He wore a crown made of golden leaflets on his head, and golden bracelets with little suns carved on them on his arms, to honor his guardian, and to the inhabitants it looked like the young man could radiate his own light. A true blessing.

And it was almost a shame that the boy didn’t seem to like showing his face in public if not to attend the religious services related to Apollo, since he’d rather stay hidden in his house to refine his art and bring new sculptures to life, through which he could almost establish, unknowingly, a sort of connection with the islanders, that could easily guess the feelings which the artist poured in his works as he was carving them.

Needless to say, the young man didn’t have friends, but he had plenty of admirers. The lucky ones who were able to catch a glimpse of him during the services were so bewitched that tried to talk to him or to draw his attention by all means, and sent him long letters where they professed their love and manifested the desire to get to know him better, but Roxas, that had always tried to avoid making contact with other people, was totally indifferent to them. He wasn’t ever interested in love or other people, and he thought that it was foolish for total strangers to claim with such lightness having this kind of feelings for someone they barely knew.

Roxas only had eyes for his art and his sculptures, but Aphrodite’s ways to reach someone’s heart were insidious – and that’s when his first love came to life.

He didn’t remember how or when he had bought it, but he ended up with a huge block of marble sitting in a corner of his studio. He immediately felt a stupid to not have noticed sooner such a huge unused block, and the artist came closer to feel its texture. As soon as the tip of his fingers brushed the cold surface, Roxas felt suddenly permeated by a strong inspiration. He took hammer and chisel without even thinking, and let his instinct lead him. For the first time, he felt like his mind had left his body, and let his hands run free on the figure that was desperately trying to emerge from the marble. First came the torso, and then the legs, and as time passed, the body of a human being took shape under the skilled hands of an artist who was becoming more and more curious and eager, like an avid reader that can’t wait to know how the story is going to end.

When Roxas finished, he took a step back to have a better look of his latest work, and hammer and chisel fell from his hands, reverberating in the silence of the room.

He had never seen anything, or rather anyone, more beautiful, and he couldn’t believe that his hands could have created something so stunning. There was a boy carved in marble – judging from his aspect, he was about Roxas’ age – sitting on a tree trunk with the head slightly facing downward. His features were very delicate, and so was his build, lean and firm. A thin branch covered with leaves and little jasmines climbed up his right leg and left forearm, wrapping them in light twirles, and a flower crown was barely sticking out from his unruly and messy hair.

The boy’s body was dressed in a light robe, similar to his own, while his hands were both placed on the sides of the trunk, as if they were supporting the boy’s weight. And his face. Roxas couldn’t find the words to describe the other’s face. He had a peaceful expression of a unique sweetness, the lips were full and curved in a gentle smile, and he had such an intense look to pierce right through the artist’s heart, who felt defenseless and stolen at the same time, and Roxas cursed with his all his might what had caught the boy’s attention and that was keeping him to lay his eyes on him.

He had sculptured so many nymphs in his short life, but if they would have been real as people rumored, he was sure that they would have turned pale and run away from the shame at the sight of a so perfect creature.

How could they state with such lightness to feel strong feelings for someone they barely knew? And inanimate, no less? Roxas had now found the answer.

Since the mysterious boy had been freed from the marble and had entered his life, mind and heart, Roxas couldn’t sculpt no more. The young man sat on a chair and contemplated the sculpture all day long, imagining a possible life, a possible voice and a possible name.

“What’s your name?” he asked him at first, right after he got over the bewilderment and was able to connect the brain to the mouth. The statue, of course, kept quiet, and Roxas had to remind himself that if it didn’t answer was because it couldn’t, and not because it didn’t want to talk to him. But he could swear on all of Apollo’s arrows that when he averted his eyes from the work, the mysterious boy smiled to him, and when he drew closer to the other’s chest, he could hear a heart beating, and no, it wasn’t his own that he could feel thundering in his ears that was confusing him. That sculpture was alive, and Roxas wouldn’t have let the truth of the matter crush him.

That’s how the young artist started talking to the sculpture. He told him stories (“You’ll never guess what Aesop has come up with this time! A hare and a turtle, can you believe it?”), he played the lyre for him, he talked about his art and how he didn’t feel like such a great genius, because he was just sort of doing what he liked, people were probably overestimating his skills and that was why he couldn’t understand all that interest towards him. His parents were always busy in long travels, with the aim of selling and making his works known all over the world – as much as he was grateful to them and perfectly understood their good intentions to make of his passion a living, his art was keeping him away from both his parents and the others. He felt so frail and unsure, and since he couldn’t establish relationships with people, he started to surround himself with statues to prevent loneliness somehow.

“Talking to you is so easy, I can be myself. To you I’m not ‘the great sculptor’, ‘Apollo’s favorite’ or ‘the one that shines like the sun’. You don’t know how much it means to me” he told the statue, flashing out a big smile. But the statue didn’t reply, it would never do that. Realization assaulted him vehemently, and the boy broke down and cried with his head in the hands.

Although it looked like he wanted to make fun of him with that sweet smile, the mysterious boy made him feel so vulnerable – and yet, Roxas couldn’t help but fall madly in love with him.

“I love you. Please, say something, anything.”

Days passed and Roxas slowly stopped eating, speaking, doing anything else that wasn’t sitting on that chair and stare at the statue by day, and by night he couldn’t sleep at all. The pain of an impossible love and the hope that his love could start talking to him were keeping him awake, numbing him. But if there was something that had actually changed on the expression of the sculpture, it was the smile, that was gradually fading. Or maybe not. Roxas didn’t know, he couldn’t be sure about anything anymore.

The islanders started worrying. It had been so long, too long that they didn’t see his new works, and Roxas didn’t show up during Apollo’s celebration days. The boldest of them had knocked on his door to make sure that nothing serious had happened to him, but Roxas never opened.

One day, tired of begging the statue, he started praying his god. He prayed every minute, every moment, Roxas constantly prayed Apollo to do something. The artist asked him to rip his heart out, to take back his talent to not suffer any longer, to turn him into a statue if he couldn’t give life to the other, or to end that torture, because he couldn’t live like that anymore.

It was after the umpteenth prayer that Roxas got up from the chair and got closer to the statue. He bent down a little and caressed his face tenderly. He whispered “I beg you, don’t make me give up on you”, and kissed it.

Despite the love he felt for the sculpture, Roxas had never kissed it. It was just a statue, after all, and as far as he knew the truth in his heart, having any kind of contact with that cold stone would have been a further and useless confirmation of what he was stubbornly denying. But he was now desperate, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the harsh reality was getting the best of him. At that point, what else could he lose?

But, for who knows what absurd reason, the marble wasn’t as cold as he had expected it to be. He probably had gone mad (and this time for good), or maybe the warmth of his lips was warming the stone, but the other’s lips felt like they were getting warmer and even softer. He started to think that Apollo had listened to his prayers and was having him dead, and Roxas couldn’t have been more grateful to his god – He was granting him death in the sweetest way possible.

The artist kissed him a second time, then a third, and he felt the lips of the statues getting warmer and warmer, more real. His breath was starting to die in his throat, the legs couldn’t hold his weight anymore and the eyes stayed perfectly sealed, as he was scared of breaking who knows what spell if he had opened them.

He realized he was dead the moment he felt hands holding his face and lips moving and kissing him back with the same passion and heat, if not greater.

“Roxas, please open your eyes” a voice begged him in a whisper, the loveliest he had ever heard. From the tone he noticed that his owner was making a great effort, as if he didn’t want to break the kiss. Those lips now so familiar actually got back kissing him desperately, while the hands moved from the face to bury themselves in his blond hair.

Roxas, as he took a breath, felt the intense smell of jasmines invade his senses, and the other’s taste was making its way on his lips and his tongue.

“Roxas” he called again, but as much as the boy was begging him, the sculptor wouldn’t have let himself being deceived. He knew far too well what happened to Orpheus when he had turned back to look at his wife one step away from the exit of the Underworld, and he wasn’t stupid enough to make the same mistake.

“If I open my eyes you’ll disappear, won’t you?” he asked, pressing his lips against the other’s to make sure he was still there with him.

“Now that I can be with you? I don’t think so” the boy answered, kissing him back once again, “please look at me, open your eyes.”

And Roxas did. His eyes met immediately the other’s, now empty no more, but deep and blue like the sky, and his look moved on the boy’s features, on his sunkissed skin and the freckles that graciously decorated his face, shoulders and arms, on the red and slightly moist lips and on a raw white straight teeth exposed by a huge grin.

The hair was brown and messy, and Roxas reached out to caress it and feel its softness. He moved his hand on the other’s face, to feel the warmth of those ligthly flushed cheeks, as the other one, that was holding the boy’s hand, let go and slowly slid on his left forearm, touching gently the thin branch covered with white jasmines and bright green leaves that was wrapping it, reminding of the entwined crown hidden by his hair.

“You are beautiful, you know that?”

“Me? Well, thanks, but you’re the one that made me like this. You, instead! You are so beautiful that you look like a god, you’re literally the light of my eyes.”

The boy chuckled, a bit embarrassed, and Roxas found him adorable. But the smile faded from his lips and he gave the artist a look full of sorrow.

“I’m sorry. For everything. You don’t know how much I suffered watching you like that, how much I wanted to tell you that you weren’t alone. But I was just a statue, I didn’t know what to do…”

“I love you.”

The other was taken aback, astonished.

“You can’t interrupt someone’s apologies by declaring your love like this, that’s not fair! But I love you too.”

The two of them laughed and he took advantage of that to place another tender kiss on the sculptor’s lips.

“I still don’t know your name. Can you tell me?” Roxas asked, smiling.

“I don’t have one, but you could give me a name! Something that reminds of yours, though, maybe mixing the letters a little and taking out some of them, what do you think? It may sound stupid, I know that, but…”

“What about Sora?”

“Sora?” the boy thought about it for a moment, “Yes! Yes, I like it, you can call me that” Sora decided, showing off a smile so bright that Roxas was nearly blinded by it.

He really was his light. Sora had found him when he needed him the most, had took down the wall of statues that he had created and was able to expose all of his vulnerability. And he was there, with him, and Roxas couldn’t wait to show him the real world, to teach him everything he didn’t know, to figure out new things together and live with him out of that block of marble, out of that house.

As they were intensely looking in the eyes, madly in love, Roxas’ look was suddenly drawn to a mark imprinted under Sora’s right lobe. A little sun painted in red, the same one that was engraved on the bracelets that the artist used to wear to honor Apollo, and the boy smiled. He really was the god’s favorite.

Not so much time had passed, and the islanders were finally back to admire Roxas’ marvelous works of art. His garden was now full of statues even more beautiful, more real than before, and they noticed with peculiar interest and curiosity that the subjects were all paired, now. There were pairs of dogs, cats, birds on the verge of spreading their wings. Pairs of boys and girls so real that they radiated all the happiness and love they felt for each other, and people often stood perfectly still by the works, eyes widened, as if they were the true statues, avoiding to blink and hoping to be able to grasp the slightest of kisses.

Thank you for reading this fic, let me know if you liked it! That would make me so happy

Here’s the link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149819

[imaginedxlan]

Alpha (Part 2); Grayson

A/N: second part to my frat boy grayson because I got a few requests for more and I’m happy to give it to you. After your brush with ‘The Alpha’ at the ATO party last week, Grayson will not leave you alone until you agree to give him the chance he thinks he deserves. For those of you who watch skam, think Noora and Williams first date okay great!

aggressive asshole play boy frat boy grayson is my weak spot don’t touch me.

Part 1

warning(s): cussing

––––––––––––

Just as you’re about to leave your 8 am, yoy remember you needed to talk to your professor about an assignment that was due. As you make your way down the lecture hall stairs, you hear a whistle come from behind you.

“Up here baby girl!” A voice shouts, making you and your professors heads shoot up yo look at whoever just cat called you. “Miss me?”

“Ignore him.” You say quietly before continuing on to ask your question. Once you drag it out for as long as you can, you brace yourself for another meeting with The Alpha. “So what, are you stalking me now?”

“I told you I wasn’t giving up on you.” He reminds you of the promise he made a little over a week ago. “Wait up, why are you walking so fast.”

“I have things to do.” You lie, you don’t have another class until tomorrow morning, just be doesn’t have to know that. “Goodbye Grayson.”

“I know you’re lying to me.” He shouts, making you stop. “You don’t have another class today.”

“So you are stalking me.”

“Let me tell you something about myself, y/n.” He says, walking closer to you, making you instinctively move back. “I have friends in high places.”

You roll your eyes and walk away, hoping that your curtness shows how uninterested you are in him. But oh, how wrong you were. For the next few days Grayson, without fail, has been waiting outside all of your classes. Doesn’t he have classes to go to?

The next Friday, two weeks after you first met Grayson, you weren’t feeling too well so you texted one of your classmates to give you notes for the class and decided to stay in your dorm.

Avoiding me?

An unknown number. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s Grayson, who else would be texting you directly after you were supposed to be leaving class asking if you’re avoiding them.

How did you get this number?

You had no idea who would’ve given him your number, what whoever it was will forever be on your shit list.

Well y/n, remember how I said I have friends in high places? Turns out I have friends in pretty low places too

As if that gave you anything to work with. You audibly groaned before turning onto your side to pout. Your sister was none too pleased when you told her about your stalker.

“It’s disgusting y/n, I hope you see that.” She says in absolute disgust. “You’re a baby. If something is barely legal it’s not right.”

As much as you agreed with the fact that Grayson stalking you was weird and gross, you hated how she kept saying you were a baby. You aren’t. You’re eighteen, a legal adult, for all the law care you could marry Grayson right now and it would be fine. Not that you would ever do that.

“Just be careful around him okay?” She reiterates. “I’m worried about you with him, he goes to very far lengths to get his way.”

You kept that in the back of your mind for the next few days. He’d already gone to one of his ‘friends in high places’ to get your schedule and one of his ‘friends in low places’ to get your number. What’s next? Your address.

“You can’t ignore me forever.” You hear Grayson’s oh so familiar voice as you walk out of your first class on Monday morning. “The more you ignore me the more I’ll want my way.”

A whole year of Grayson waiting outside every classroom for tot, deterring any guy from ever coming up to you. Sounds like torture.

“What do you want?”

“A chance.” He says bluntly, making you scoff. How cheesy. “I mean it, you already have an idea of me in your head and it’s not fair. I’m a person too y/n, don’t I deserve a shot.”

“From what I hear about you,” You begin, narrowing your eyes at him. “You may not even be human, Alpha.”

“See that’s what I mean!” He whines, sounding like a four year old. “You don’t even know me yet you’ll listen to what everyone else says about me.”

“If everyone is saying it, I’m pretty sure it’s true Grayson.”

He lets out a mixture of a sigh and a groan and leans his head back, running his hands through his hair. He’s stressed, you can tell.

“If you really don’t like me that much, why don’t you just give me one chance to get rid of me?” He asks, making you think about it. “Come on, just once. If you still hate me I’ll leave you alone okay?”

You start to weight your options. In no world did Grayson even deserve one chance, but then again, what’s an hour of your life if you’re going to be able to save yourself from hours of him keeping tabs on you for the next nine months. If you’re thinking morally, you’d never go out with Grayson. But logically, to spare yourself from further annoyances down the line, it may be worth it.

“Fine.” You finally crack. “Whatever, one shot.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist this.” He puts on a sly grin and motions to his body. “It was only a matter of time.”

“You’re a pig.” You spit, walking away before you kill more brain cells talking to him.

“See you soon, Doll face!” He shouts after you, making your face go bright red. Thank god he couldn’t see you. “Wear something hot.”

You did not wear something hot, in fact you did quite the opposite. Two nights later you walked out of your dorm building in leggings and a big sweater, not giving a single care that you were in Los Angeles in September, you were not going to risk showing any skin. You didn’t do your makeup or your hair, you just got out of the shower, threw on the first things you found and left. 

It didn’t take long for you to find Grayson, he was leaving against a topless Jeep Wrangler, the ultimate douchebag car in your opinion. He was wearing khaki shorts and a plain navy blue shirt.

“Well don’t you look nice.” He says, finally looking up from his phone. “Let’s go.”

“You better not be taking me back to that disgusting frat house.” You warn him. “Tell me now so I can get out of the car.”

Grayson dramatically gasps and smacks his hand over his heart. “Do you really think so low of me?”

“I don’t think about you at all.” You correct him, which was false. You thought of him, not in the best way thought. “Will you just tell me where we’re going.”

“You’ll just have to find out Ms. y/n,” He says as he starts to drive away from your dorm. “I’m full of surprises.”

And with that you drive, a drive for what feels like hours until you stop in a parking lot of what seems like a park. Without a word, Grayson gets out of the car and opens the backdoor to grab a cooler.

“Coming?” He asks shutting the door. You look at him, and then look away. “Alright, i’ll be over there.”

He walks away from the car and puts a towel on the ground and starts to pull food out of the cooler. He planned a picnic. You were in awe that ‘The Alpha’ could ever put anything like this together. You let out a heavy sign and got out of the car. You sat on the opposite end of the towel and watched him pull everything out.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I brought peanut butter and jelly and chocolate milk.” He tells you, pulling out two seran wrapped sandwiches and bottles on chocolate milk. “If you hate it there’s a McDonalds not too far from here.”

Wow, you think. Where was this version of Grayson when you first met him. You shook your head and told him that you were fine with everything. You two didn’t talk much, but the cars and sounds of people filled the silence. Once you finished, you thought it was time for you both to head home, but Grayson to head home. Before you could get up he stops you.

“You didn’t think this was all I had planned, did you?” He asks and you furrow your eyebrows. “Let me clean this up, then follow me.”

So you did, and he brought you a few blocks away to a seemingly glowing building. The Museum of Neon Art.

“Remember my friend in a low place?” He asks you, and you nod. “They may have told me you liked this kind of stuff.”

“You don’t?” You ask.

“Never really found a reason to check it out I guess,” He replies, looking over at you with a side grin. “But now I do.”

You roll your eyes and walk into the building, Grayson follows and pulls out his wallet to pay your admission fee.

“I am fully capable of paying for myself thank you very much.” You inform him, going to reach for your wallet but he grabs your wrist before you can. You felt how warm his hand was, even after he pulled it away.

“I know you are,” He tells you. “Call me old fashioned but I always pay for a girl on the date.”

“This isn’t a date.” You correct him.

“Yeah okay,” He says with a laugh. “Whatever helps you sleep at night sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” You warn him. You give in and allow him to pay for your ticket and head inside. It’s better than you could have ever dreamed. Everything was just so cool, you felt like you didn’t belong somewhere this amazing. Grayson just followed behind you, didn’t complain about how long you took, just let you take everything in and you appreciated that.

Eventually, you left, not before you dragged Grayson to every sign, but you did leave. You walked back to his car in the dark. The car ride back to campus was quiet other than the radio. You tapped your fingers on the window to the beat of the song and you felt Grayson’s eyes on you.

“What?” You ask him, not looking at him.

“You fidget a lot,” He tells you, letting out a quick chuckle. “It’s cute.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you changed the subject.

“How many girls have you taken there.” You ask, not sure if you really want the answer, but you ask anyway.

“None.” He says almost immediately.

“Bullshit.”

“Swear on my life.” He defends his words. “Look, y/n, I never have to prove myself to girls. They usually just sleep with me, tell their friends, and I never speak to them again. I don’t really date, this is a new thing for me. You are the only girl that I have ever brought to either of those places.”

For some reason you were relieved, unsure if it was because you didn’t want to share that experience with another girl, or because you didn’t want to share Grayson with another girl.

You made it back to campus, much quicker than when you left, and you felt a small pit form in your stomach. It was one time, there was no chance you actually liked Grayson ‘Alpha’ Dolan.

“Thanks for the night,” You speak up after sitting in the car for a few minutes. “I had fun.”

“Yeah,” He sighed. “I’m an excellent date planner.”

Your jaw drops at his incredibly large ego. “Not a date.”

“Okay, maybe this one wasn’t a date.” He puts his hands up. “But the next one definitely will me.”

With yet another eye roll, you get out of the car and slam the door shut but turn around one more time. “Goodnight Grayson.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

[peetabreadgirl]

Writer’s Block, CH7

Here it is! Thanks @litlifelover for the gif suggestion! I’m going to use it because there is a stay moment here. Thanks also to everyone that gave their gif opinion! I think we can all agree we just like Everlark together, however we can get them there. So here’s a little ‘togetherness’ for you. Read on AO3 or FFnet if you like. And happy continued bday to @katnissdoesnotfollowback. It’s almost time again! Lol. I’m slow....

“Done.”

 I open one eye and stare at Peeta, sitting cross-legged next to me on my bed with his computer in his lap. The bright glow of the screen is the only lighting in the room. It’s two in the morning and our project is due in 6 hours. He’s been re-reading and editing here and there while I fell asleep. I don’t know how he’s still awake.

 “Really?” My voice is raspy from sleep and my eye closes, too heavy to care that it’s finally finished. But my body feels weightless at the news.

 “Really.” I listen to the click of the laptop closing, the sliding of it onto my nightstand before he says softly, “It’s late. I should go.” He stands from the bed but doesn’t get far before my hand is around his wrist. I let my fingers slide down, tangling with his.

 “Stay?”

He doesn’t hesitate, nodding and stripping off his shirt before he climbs back onto the bed. My eyes are suddenly not so heavy, but it’s too dark to see much, so I turn over as Peeta curls around me, pulling a blanket over us. His arm across my stomach is comforting, and the warmth of his body would lull me right to sleep, but there’s something pressing against me that’s not going to allow that.

 Peeta’s hips flex once, and my lungs stop working. His breath ghosts across my neck and cheek, my mind racing and heart starting to thump harder. He doesn’t move again. Eventually his breathing evens out and I know he’s asleep. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed. A mixture of both maybe?

 I inhale deeply and try to go to sleep. Since it seems Peeta can do it so easily after being turned on, I should be able to as well. But no. An hour later, I’m still staring at the plain off-white wall, turned dingier by the lack of lighting. My eyes are big enough to set tea cups on and drier than the desert. I bet I haven’t blinked in seven minutes. I rub them closed and huff a big sigh, which causes Peeta to shuffle and his hand moves from my ribs to my lower stomach. An instant surge of need hits me. Shit.

 And it’s not going away. Not with him so close. If anything, it’s getting worse. Or better, depending on how I want to look at it. I count sheep to keep from thinking that the only things separating our private parts are four minimal layers of clothing - my sleep pants, Peeta’s basketball shorts, and our underwear.

 I don’t mean to wiggle my butt and push into him, but I can’t help it. He breathes and adjusts, turning his hips slightly away from me and repositions his hand back to my ribs. Not exactly what I had in mind.

 What do I do now? I guess I could get up to go to the bathroom and take care of it myself. At least it would help me get some sleep out of this busted night. But I’m too…  something to move. Too nervous or too aroused. Should I just wake him up and ask? No. I can feel my cheeks turn scarlet at the mere thought of it. We haven’t done more than steal a few kisses over the last week. There just hasn’t been time between work and school.

 But there is now.

 I wiggle against him a second time. “Peeta?” It’s a whisper, just to test if he’s fallen into deep sleep yet.

 “Mmm,” is his sleepy response and he snuggles close to me again, but goes still. I lace my fingers through his, wiggling once more before I give up. This night is going to suck. I’ve decided to close my eyes and ignore my body when his fingers curl in deliciously against my bare stomach where my shirt has ridden up. Sparks ignite inside me as he starts to draw lazy circles with every one of his fingertips.

 “Aren’t you tired?” he asks in a sleep-roughened voice.

 My heart beats a few times as I decide how best to answer. “No,” I whisper truthfully. His lips touch the bare skin of my shoulder while his hand continues to create delicate art above the waist of my pants. I can’t help reaching behind me and sinking my fingers into his hair. He groans and flattens his palm against my belly, pulling my hips into his. I can feel him again, but my concentration is lost when his fingers wander further south.

 “Katniss?” His lips are at my ear now. The warm breath that tickles me also lights me on fire. My lips are pressed together so hard my only response is a muffled, “Mmm?”

 “Can I touch you?”

 I don’t say anything. I am physically incapable of speech right now, so I cover his hand with mine, guide it to the waistband of my pants and push it underneath, letting him know without words that I want him to touch me. I need him to touch me. Sleeping next to him even for the few nights we have has turned into sweet torture. To hell with slow.

 When his fingers sink between my legs, my toes curl. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for, but way too soon he removes his hand. My chest almost explodes with disappointment until I realize he’s tugging on the elastic sitting lower on my hips than it was moments ago. His lips hover just below my left earlobe, and the warmth of his breath raises tiny bumps across all of my body when he asks me, “Can you take these off?” Again, I say nothing. Just shed my clothing like he wants. I’ll do anything he asks right now.

 His hand returns to the place I want - no need - it most, and my body is on a climb to the top of an imaginary mountain. Every stroke of his finger is a step towards the peak, and when I finally get there, there’s no time to spend ogling the view. I jump off the other side without a parachute. Weeks of frustration and longing shatter beneath his touch as I sail to the valley below. It’s even better than the first time it happened in his apartment and I wonder how soon we’ll be doing that again, out loud apparently because he answers with a soft laugh.

 “Anytime you want. That was amazing.” He nuzzles my neck with his nose as I float down from my spectacular high. My body sags against his as he cocoons me from behind, completely and utterly relaxed. He doesn’t try to go any further than that. If I had the energy I might wonder why, since the story is technically finished and there will be no more adding to it. No opportunity to write our experiences as Julia’s and Adam’s. But I don’t bother to analyze it, and in no time at all I’m drifting off.

“It’s a big, big, big daaaa-aaaay!” Professor Trinket sing-songs at the beginning of class on Monday. “Hopefully, you all sent your submissions in to my email by the start of class. I’ve already seen a few that I can’t wait to read.” Professor Trinket claps her hands together and gives me a pointed look. There’s a gleam in her eyes that makes me certain ours will be first. And probably read more thoroughly than any other. It causes a bit of a nervous flutter, but then Peeta’s knee knocks into mine and he gives me a smile that almost makes me not care about what the professor thinks. I got something even better than a perfect grade out of this project. Something that rooted itself inside me and grew before I knew what was happening.

 I return his smile, unable to imagine what life was like before him, and then I blush, looking away quickly when I remember what happened in my bed last night. Peeta was gone before I got up, leaving me half asleep with a quick kiss to the back of my head, so I didn’t have the opportunity to be embarrassed around him. Which is what’s happening now.

 “Obviously there’s no way I can read all of these in a week, so I’ll task you with one more assignment, which will also be part of your final grade.” My attention snaps from last night’s events to the present at the professor’s statement. Everything around me is forgotten. “You will read and review another group’s project - no skimming,” she warns. “You have until end of class Friday. Time starts now, class. Chop chop.”

 I look at Peeta, always so calm and collected. The exact opposite of how I’m feeling right now. Most of our story is about us. Me. Finding my way through my own sexuality and a boy I despised but came to... like a lot. I only recently became okay about Peeta and Professor Trinket reading it, and now I have to let more people in? This can’t be happening.

 Before I can collect my thoughts, Cato looks past me to Peeta. “You guys want to switch?”

 My breathing stops as Peeta looks around at the other pairs, already partnering up and says, “Sure,” before I can scream No! at the top of my lungs. I can’t fault him, though. He has no idea how uncomfortable Cato makes me feel. Should I tell him?

 “Here,” Cato says, placing a sheet of paper in front of me. “Write down your email and number for me.” I panic, grateful I don’t have a number but I don’t want Cato to have any way to contact me. I’d rather him not even know my name. Or that I exist as a person.

 I grab my things faster than I ever have and excuse myself, not meeting either of their stares even though I can feel them burning into me. “Actually, I have to go. Peeta can you handle that? Thanks.” I don’t wait for a response before I’m barreling towards the exit.

 I go on with my day, tense and anxious for most of it. I try desperately not to think about the last leg of the project. I am also trying not to plan Professor Trinket’s slow death. I partially succeed at the first one. I tell myself every ten minutes that it’ll all be over in a matter of days, and while it’s true, it doesn’t make letting a stranger into the doc any less daunting.

 It’s not until later when I’m in my room that Peeta knocks on my door. I open it and find him leaning against the frame, a curious look in his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks as I push the door all the way open in invitation. He shoves off his shoulder and walks in, closing the door behind him. I plop down on my bed, fold my legs under me and shrug my shoulders.

 Peeta follows, sinking slowly next to me and places his hand on my knee, shaking it lightly. “Talk to me.”

 From anyone else, the statement would come off demanding, but with the person who’s come to mean more to me than almost anyone, it’s an opportunity to purge my feelings in a safe place. Something I’ve never really had before.

 “I was just surprised that we have to share our story with other students, and honestly Cato is not the person I would have chosen to review it.” I shiver at the thought of what the brute will have as ammunition after he reads it. “He’s kind of a creep and now he has my email.”

 Peeta squeezes my knee in what feels like an apology. “He doesn’t have your email.”

 “He doesn’t?”

 “No. I didn’t want to partner up with him, either, but it seemed like everyone else was already taken. But I wasn’t about to give another guy my girlfriend’s information anyway, so I just gave him mine.”

 I’m almost compelled to tell him I love him right then, and I might have if it hadn’t been for the word he just used. “Girlfriend?” I can feel one brow inch its way up my forehead. We haven’t talked about it and I haven’t given any thought to labeling us. I’m not sure I want to. I don’t want to ruin the easy feeling between us.

 “Yeah,” he replies, his hand inching up my thigh, making me lose focus on our conversation. Then his brow creases as his hand pauses. “Are you okay with that?”

 I swallow and my eyes flutter. I want him to stop talking and finish where I think this is going, but I know he’s going to want an answer. I don’t have one for him right now, partly because he’s touching me and partly because I haven’t had time to think about what it means, so I answer his question with one of my own. “Are you?”

 He leans in and his lips are so close I can feel the smile on them. “I’ve been okay with it since the day I met you.” And then he kisses me. Something in my chest flutters. I stop thinking and fall back on the bed, Peeta following without breaking the kiss. He’s on top of me and his weight is like a welcome home hug. Except way more indecent.

 One of his legs finds its way between mine as his tongue divides my lips and conquers my mouth. I raise my white flag of surrender by driving my hips into his. I can feel his hardness pressing against my thigh. He grunts and one of his hands slides down my side to rest at my hip. He squeezes and it feels urgent.

 Our kiss speeds up, my pulse with it, and I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tight to me. Our hips are in a rhythm that feels so natural and… primal. I can feel his length sliding against me, but I want to know more. I need to know what it feels like in my hand. I want to see if I can make him feel good, too.

 His hand begins its descent between my legs and for a split second I forget all about wanting to do something for him.

 “Peeta, wait.” I say through our kiss. He freezes, his body tensing above me.

 “‘I’m sorry-”

 “No, it’s not that, it’s um, I want to…” Just tell him you want to touch him.

 Peeta must think he knows what I’m trying to say, because his eyes widen and he drops his weight off to the side of me, scrubbing a hand over his face and uttering a soft curse. “I, uh, didn’t bring anything with me.”

 I raise up on my elbows to stare down at him and narrow my eyes, trying to decipher what he would need to bring with him other than his cock, which is definitely present, when I realize he means a condom. “Oh! No I didn’t mean - I just wanted to t-touch… you,” I stumble around the words, not able to meet his gaze. Instead, my eyes land on the very large object in question. I don’t want to look away but I know I should. Shouldn’t I? Then it moves. Just the tiniest twitch, and my eyes flick to his, dark sapphires now.

 I sit up on my knees and reach for the hem of his shirt, pushing it up a little. “Can I?” My fingers itch and my stomach is a ball of nerves. The good kind I guess, because they’re not holding me back. He nods and his eyelids shutter a few times before he closes them. It’s a bit of a relief not to have him watching my first attempt at pleasuring a man. I’m not a hundred percent sure what to do, so I recall a few scenes from my reading. Scenes that at first made me cringe, but now make my mouth water and my legs tighten when I think about them.

 I release the brass button of his jeans and drag the zipper down. Peeta helps by raising his hips and pushing them even further. I’m unprepared for the way it springs up at me and I jolt a little. It’s just… standing there. I bite my lip, watching as it twitches again. A quick glance at Peeta and he’s watching me as intently as I’m watching it.

 He breathes out a shaky breath that sounds like my name, and that’s all it takes for me to reach out and grip it in my hand. It’s warm and the skin is soft.

 “Fuck.” The curse is quick and soft, freezing me in place.

 “Did I hurt you?” I loosen my already loose grip.

 Peeta shakes his head and one side of his mouth lifts barely in a crooked grin. “Here,” he says as he puts his hand over my own. “Grip it tighter like - fuck - yeah... like that.” He guides my hand up and down and when I’ve got the hang of it I move his hand away and straddle his thighs.

 “Holy shit, you’re gonna… kill… me,” he says between breaths. I bite back a smile. I was always a fast learner. “Feels… so good.” His groans mixed with his affirming words make me feel so empowered. Like I can do anything. I’ve got the world at my fingertips instead of just his cock.

 His hips start to pulse in time with my hand and he grabs fistfuls of my comforter. I can feel the dampness in my panties. I fight back the urge to rub myself on his leg, but it’s no use. My body joins the same rhythm as my hand and his hips, like a well-timed harmony.

 I wonder what would happen if I just stop thinking and let my body take complete control. I’m tempted to give in and see, but Peeta tenses beneath me. I watch, mesmerized, as his his eyes close tight and his lips purse together. When his hand wraps around the top of his cock, I freeze again, unsure if I should let go or keep going.

 “Don’t stop,” he grunts, as warm liquid trickles down my hand. I start pumping until he stills my movement and lets out a deep, shuddering breath.

 “Katniss, that was amazing.” Peeta says softly, his face tilted to the ceiling, eyes still closed and lips parted. I feel like I just aced a test and got the extra credit.

 “Yeah?” I ask, finally letting go to survey the mess on my hand and his body. It’s gooey and… weird. I grab a few tissues from my desk and hand them to Peeta, then clean myself. It’s strange how satisfied I feel after doing that to him, and he hasn’t even done anything to me yet. I guess he doesn’t need to. I’d be happy to lay next to him and take a nap.

 I sit back on the bed, Peeta still laying there with his eyes closed and a contented look to his features. He’s mostly covered again, except for a sliver of muscled abs. He cracks one eye open when he feels my weight next to him, and I have no time to react as he lunges up and grabs me, twisting us so that I’m pinned underneath him. I’ve never been wrestled before but I have to admit that I may take up the sport.

 “Your turn,” he says with an adorably crooked smile. He laces his fingers with mine, raising them to the pillow above my head. Then, he nudges my chin to the side with his nose and I feel his lips on my neck. The nap I wanted evaporates like drops of water in the driest climate.That satisfaction I said I felt? It’s long gone. And in it’s place is a hunger I’ve only acted on over the last few weeks.

 “Katniss?” he asks as one of his hands skims from my hand all the way to my waist and under the hem of my shirt. His fingers draw figure eights on my skin, up and up and up. He stops just below my breast. It’s difficult, but I use my words and give him the permission he seeks to make me feel good.

 He pinches and rolls my nipples between his fingers for a long time, making me squirm and arch beneath him before he undresses my bottom half and parts my legs. He caresses my inner thighs and I can feel his breath hit my center. My pulse thunders in my ears and my chest rises and falls, more labored than a sweatshop in China.

 Peeta takes an inordinate amount of time exploring the flesh around my hips and down my legs. He kisses my calves, licks the underside of one of my knees, and bites the inside of my thigh. I both love it and hate it. I wiggle my hips at him, growing more frustrated by the second.

 “Touch me,” slips out in a panted plea.

 “I was thinking maybe, if you want me to, I could… go down on you.”

 I tense when I realize he means he wants to put his face there. I know guys do it. I’ve overheard a few girls talk about it before and I thought it was disgusting. How could someone let a human being put their face down there? Bodily functions happen from there. But now, with Peeta so close, I don’t have the same grossed out feelings, but I also don’t know if I want him to do that.  

 “We don’t have to.” he says, his hands skimming my legs before he crawls up my body. He kisses me and I relax a little.

 “Thank you,” I whisper. “Can we just… kiss for a little while?” The desire I felt moments ago isn’t quite as strong, and I feel like I need to slow down. His answer is just to kiss me again, soft and slow, with no end in sight. His hands don’t venture any place other than my hair, cheeks and neck, and it’s not long before we’re holding each other and falling asleep.

It’s Wednesday and I’m at work, sitting in the box office with a Marie Claire magazine I discreetly snagged off the table of the students’ lounge the day before. One of the articles is about oral sex and, curious, I want to see what all the fuss is about. Maybe get some tips on what to do or how to prepare. I’m mainly concerned with whether or not Peeta will think I’m gross after the fact. Pubic hair and body fluids aren’t exactly sexy in my book, but I’ve learned over the length of this project that whatever I have an aversion to, learning about it helps me understand. Take the edge off whatever reservations I’ve built up over time.

 The main question I have is does he really want to do that? According to Marie, he’s fantasized about it. The article is fascinating, though, and what I thought was going to be a cringey read is getting me a little excited and making me feel strangely desired.

 I’m insatiable for more on this subject, and I’m rounding out my third read-through when I glance up at some movement on the curb and see Cato strolling towards the building. I stash the magazine hastily like I’ve been caught by my mother with porn. When he’s only ten yards away my heart leaps to my throat. I’m sure I won’t be able to form any words, which is ironic considering mere words can’t express how badly I don’t want to interact with him.

 The thought dawns on me that he’s here for me and not to see a movie. It’s matinee time on a Wednesday. The only people who ever come to see movies during this time are the elderly and mothers with toddlers. He is neither of those and he’s alone. Smiling unnervingly. It’s not an ugly smile, and if I didn’t get a bad feeling every time he’s in my vicinity, he might actually be attractive. But I do.

 His hulking frame takes up most of the window space. “Everdeen,” he says, tapping his fingers on the outside counter. I clear my throat to speak into the microphone.

 “Can I help you?” I pray that being professional and aloof will hurry up whatever this is. Maybe he really is here to see a movie. By himself. In the middle of the day. His smile grows wider, showing bright white teeth all in a perfect row.

 “Yeah, I just wanted to see if I could buy you some dinner after work. I read your story. It was a real page turner,” he winks at me, “and I want to give you my thoughts on it.”

 “Oh,” comes out as a squeak, but I cover it quickly with, “I already have plans, but you can leave comments in the doc. I probably won’t be able to get to them until late.”

 “I don’t want to leave them in the doc. I’m more of an in person kind of guy.” He leans over, elbows on the counter, his face so close to the glass his breath creates a light circle of fog. One of his eyebrows raises in an assumptive way and it makes the fake cheese from the nachos I had at lunch curdle. He tries again. “What about tomorrow?”

 “Ummmm-”

 “Come on, Everdeen, don’t make me beg.” He winks again.

 “I really can’t tonight or tomorrow. I’m sorry.” I hold my hands up and shrug while silently praying for this to please be over.

 “Damn, girl,” he replies, and I catch a sliver of annoyance in his tone. Then one side of his lip curls up. “You’re making it hard.” He winks for a third time and I’m starting to think maybe he has something in his eye. But no, he read my story. My very dirty, very private, should have only been read by my professor story.

 “How about I drive you to wherever you’re going after work? I know you don’t have a car.” The way he says it gives me this feeling in my gut. Like I should watch out for myself. I freak out inside. An imaginary mallet strikes the lever on my panic meter and the puck goes straight through the bell. So I lie. Anything to get him to leave, and that’s giving him a ‘yes.’

 “Yeah, okay. I get off at eleven.” Not true. I get off two hours earlier. I can’t look him in the eyes through the deception. I’ve never been good at lying, so I stare at my computer screen and click the mouse a few times to make it look like I’m working, then say casually, only glancing up once, “But you don’t have to wait around. Just come back later.”

 He taps his fingers on the counter twice and a huge smile overtakes his face. A sign of victory, I suppose. If it weren’t for his cold eyes, he might seem harmless. Or at least not as intimidating as he does. “You got it, Babe,” he calls out as he walks away.

 A shiver rips its way through my spine. Babe. I can’t wait to get out of here.

 By 8:30 I’ve kept a running total of the cash I’ve exchanged tickets for and cleaned my area three times to make sure I can walk out the door by 9:01. I want as much time between myself and Cato’s arrival as I can possibly get. My hands tremble a little more with every minute that ticks by. I swear my bottom lip is going to be one giant bruise tomorrow morning from how hard I’ve been biting down on it. My stomach is twisted into fifty knots. And counting.

 The door to the box office pops open and my boss leans his head in, irritation in his voice and a snarl on his lips as he tells me, “Bristel called in. I need you to close tonight.”

 He doesn’t wait for an answer, just slams the door, the sound of it reverberating through my ears, settling in my stomach as a boulder, flattening all those knots. When it’s gone, I’m left in complete silence. A needle could drop in a haystack and I’d hear it. I stare at the door knob, feeling like if I tried to turn it I’d find myself locked in. And with only a small opening in the bullet proof glass, there’s no other way out.

 My heart beats faster and within moments I feel beads of sweat on my forehead. This can’t be happening. I told him to come back! And now I have to stay? Fuck!

 No.

 I can’t stay.

 I won’t stay.

 The walls start to close in. I need air. This place is feeling more like a tomb that wants to swallow me up rather than four walls designed to keep people out.

 I’m not supposed to leave the box office unattended, but I don’t care much about it right now. I need to tell my boss I can’t stay late. Fear is eating away at my insides, trying to keep me rooted in place and bolt out the door at the same time. I peel my leaden feet from the floor and choose the latter.

 On my way to Marv’s office, I throw a quick prayer up, promising I’ll never lie again if I can somehow get out of this. Begging a higher power for him to have mercy on me. I start coming up with a list of good deeds, like working in soup kitchens every holiday or reading to underprivileged kids at the public library. I could volunteer at the old folks home on the weekends. I’ll do anything.

 I shouldn’t have to, though. I’m a good worker. I come in early and leave late. I do my job, going over and above to make sure I’m never written up or give anyone a reason to think I’m slacking off. I’m his best worker. He’ll understand. Or not. He’s kind of a douchewaffle.

 I rap my knuckles on his door, my fear waning some in the face of the confidence I’ve built in my work performance.

 “Come in,” he hollers. “Yeah?” he barks when he sees me. He’s extra cranky tonight.

 “About closing, I-”

 “I need you, Everdeen. You know we don’t keep a big staff on Wednesdays. Take it up with Bristel the next time she’s in.”

 I stop just short of whining, even though I really want to. “But, I can’t stay.”

 “Look, I’m in a bind and you’re my go-to girl.” He sighs, as if deciding whether or not to say something that’s on his mind. “I’ll be needing an AM soon and I was thinking of recommending you for the position. It’d come with a significant pay raise and get you out of that box. Just say you’ll do it and the job is yours.”

 Huh. I did not see that coming. I should have told him ‘no’ months ago. I’m about to graduate college, and while I’ll be looking for work in my field, I also know it could be weeks or even months before I find something. I could really use the raise.

 I set both options on the scale - weighing them out against each other. On one side - Cato. But more money. On the other - hiding out from him at my place. He may even know where I live. He knows I don’t have a car. Would avoiding him now help me? He’ll probably come back anyway and I’ll have to deal with him another time. He’s been persistent in making me feel uncomfortable for the last few months. I think it’s about time I told him to back off.

 “Fine,” I answer Marv with the same snarl he gave me earlier. “But you better not be screwing with me.” I close the door harder than I meant to, but maybe that will seal my point with him. I’ve never spoken to my boss like that, but only one thought is at the forefront of my mind as I return to the box - I need Peeta. He should be here to hear Cato’s thoughts, too. He wrote half the story and edited most of it.

 I enter the tiny cubicle, no less nervous about Cato, but I do have an idea of what I’ll be buying as soon as I get my raise - a cell phone. And Peeta’s number will be speed dial numero uno.

 I glance at the dingy, white phone hanging on the wall of the tiny room. I could use it, but the one person I need to call right now is unreachable because I don’t have his number.

 The doc! I bounce on my toes a few times in relief before springing into action. Employees aren’t supposed to be on the internet with work computers, but I’m desperate to reach Peeta. If Marv finds out I’ll get written up and my record won’t be so perfect anymore, but I don’t think too hard on it. I log in to my google account and click on my gmail, sending off a quick email to get Peeta online. Then I open hangouts and the doc, and wait.

 And wait.

 And wait some more.

 A line starts to form for the late shows. It’s not long, but it takes my attention away from the screen. A few people trickle up to the window, but it dies down as it approaches ten o’clock. Peeta still hasn’t gotten online. My stomach turns over a few times. 52 minutes and 36 seconds left if Cato doesn’t show up early.

 At 10:15, it’s time to close the box office and help clean up the concession area. I have to log off the computer, but before I do I send a message through hangouts, hoping with everything in me that he gets it and comes, but trying not to put all my eggs in that basket. I may actually have to do this myself. Which is fine. Totally fine. I’m a big girl.

 Can you come by the theater around 10:45?

 I add ‘please’ to the end, hoping he realizes that’s me begging.

 I shut the lights out. I’m about to leave when I spot a figure in the far corner of the parking lot, leaning against the hood of a red car, arms folded while he checks his phone. Goosebumps pepper my skin and my mouth dries up instantly.

 Cato is here. And he’s so early that I wonder if he even went home.  

[briteboy]

(circumstantial name by @earnoodle)

IT’S FINALLY TIME FOR THE POST YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR (or maybe just that one anon)

there’s a LOT in here, newer questions are generally first so if you asked something a while ago and you’re only interested in that, scroll towards the bottom. also doing wcifs separately (errr i’m gonna try my hardest to ok don’t crucify me)

this mass anons post includes topics ranging from Very Sweet Things Said To Me That I Don’t Deserve, nitpicking stranger things, crying over ramona, lou theories, Cillian Is A Fucking Creep theories (true), and completely unhelpful reshade advice

let’s f0cking do this

You're right, apart from carrying his stupid brain, Santi's head didn't do anything to any of us. I apologize for anon.

I'm pretty sure I said that already but I love Rooney and Santi's relationship so much I literally have no words for it

ME TOO LIKE IT’S JUST SO PURE TWO NOT-KIDS SCARED OF THE ADULT WORLD TRYING TO FIGURE THINGS OUT WITH THEIR WEIRD BRAINS TOGETHER ;__; i love them

YO i didnt know u were a demigirl!! im a demiboy nb Buddies

hell fuckin yeah dude!! we are starting a demi club

Ok but like I really want werewolves. Like I know it sounds stupid but we have vampire and while yes I love my bat babes, I want a giant pupper friend. I have story written out and plans for a cabin to build. Now I’m waiting for EA to give me my big hairy babes.

DUDE i want more supernatural stuff too, mostly witches like I NEED MY WITCHES AGAIN!!! ts3 witches were so good. i didn’t like ts3 werewolves much but i feel like they’d be super cool in ts4, knowing how the vampires came out. i NEED it

hihi! i've been very quietly (??) following your blog for some time now and i just fawn over your characters way too much ?? anywho, i've been wanting to start my own little simblr story but ,, i'm not entirely sure where to even start? i have so many stories that i'd love to get out there, and i have the means.. butt, how did you go about starting out?? so sorry this is so long but i look up to you a whole ton!!! ty ily! :-)

i’m the (??) lmao that’s me always but ahdhghdfkshg thank you so much!!!!! i’m so glad you love them, it means the world to me ;-; and listen, that was me, i had no idea how i was going to do it because i’d only seen ts3 stories up to that point and i thought there was like a set Way to tell stories but i had no idea what i was doing so i was like y’know what...i’m just gonna do it how i feel comfortable doing it and i’m gonna figure it out as i go along. so honestly try to roughly plan out what your stor(ies) will entail and if you get stuck on planning and can’t figure it out, just jump right into it, try to make a few scenes or get the ball rolling somehow, even if it’s just random posts (i mean that’s all my blog was until i decided to commit to santi’s story.) it’s always gonna feel weird and awkward at first, but you’ll get comfortable the more you do it and it’ll figure itself out, trust me!

I read through most of your story posts the other day and now I’m rereading it again just to torture myself some more (and maybe catch up on some posts I may have missed). I honestly don’t think I’ve come across a sims story that’s so beautifully written & includes such evocative pictures as yours. I’m really at a loss for words, it’s all so stunning. & after a nearly two-month long creative block, it’s planted the smallest seed of inspiration in the back of my mind, so thank you for your art.

AHHHH AHSDHKGKDSJG WHAT!!!!! it’s always crazy hearing that 1) people actually care about my stuff, and 2) that it inspires them. like i really cannot believe that, stilL!! thank you so so much, i’m so happy you enjoyed it (as torturous as it was, lmao) it seriously warms my heart that you’re getting your groove back in the creative world, that means more to me than ANYTHING!! good luck with your art or whatever you decide to do with that inspiration!

 can i pls have your editing skill please and thank you

i owe most my editing at this point to reshade so honestly get reshade and u will probably become better than me

o added u on animal crossing and when you added me back i was so happy,, your little person is sooo adorable ((:

OMG!! thank you!! everyone’s person on there is adorable i cry i love them all so much i’m so mad tho it won’t let me add any more friends!!! it probably cuts off at like 100 friends or something STUPID

First of all, I love you. Secondly, I love your photos so much. I'm legit about to just ditch sims 3 for 4 now because of your amazing posts. 😖

LMFAO no but really THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!! if you can manage playing both i admire u, i’ve invested too much time and effort into ts4 to ever fully go back to any other sims games tbh

The new patch made my game unplayable! I'm crying, I miss my doggos...

NOOOOO!!! hopefully by now you’ve found a fix, i’m prayin for u

long time listener, first time caller yoooo. i like everyone love your stories and your sim aesthetic so so so much and just tbh i was offended on your behalf about that ask from that person wanting to novelize your stories. like you were way too nice. this is your intellectual property and it's fucked up that someone would think it'd be okay to duplicate it as long as they used a different medium. this is prob a bad one to repost just wanted to you to know you're an awesome, singular voice

omfg lmao this is a radio show now *z100 voice* tellem why ya mad euhhh first of all i can’t believe someone even ASKED that, i’m in shock because like what this is so foreign to me. people want to write about MY characters WHAT! like that alone...takes a long time to process. and like i know i should say no but then i feel mean but they’re also my creations so like idk. it warms my heart that you feel so strongly and would stand up for me like that i’m cryin thank u for calling in i love u

I JUST FINISHED YOUR ENTIRE STORY AND I'M NOT OK WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE PUTTING ME THROUGH THAT SHIT IT'S AN EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER AND I FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE ABUSED MY (NON EXISTENT) INNOCENCE WOW

I’M SO SORRY U HAD TO GO THROUGH THAT ALSO I APOLOGIZE FOR STEALING YOUR INNOCENCE I NEVER MEANT FOR THIS TO HAPPEN OSDAFKJDSK BUT THANK YOU FOR READING I’M GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT EVEN IF IT HURT YOU!!!

I've been up all night and it's now 11am. I'm completely binging on your stories bc I am in LOVE and need a Molly in my game asap. Do you think you'll ever upload her?

omG my freaking story inciting insomnia i’m so sorry for ur sleep schedule first of all, but at least that makes you identify with santi even more omg tho ;___; (how many times will i say ‘omg’ i wonder) i don’t think so because she is so dear to me and makes my heart ache, she is just so special, i dunno if i could ever release her into the wild like that lmao. i haven’t even shared her with my friends (not that i really ever had a reason to) but like yeah. maybe in the future that’ll change but right now, no, i’m sorry <3

To change the topic: Idk if you watch stranger things but I only managed to get to episode 3 of season 2 before I stopped watching lmao it was so bad and Billy (a certified Cunt) ruined the whole show for me

YEAH I DID! omg. i have a LOT of issues with this season (mostly in how badly they tried to retcon nancy and everyone else not caring about barb’s death, how bad the writing was in the realm of nancy and steve breaking up and then her and jonathan getting together...holy fuck it was so uncomfortable with that 40 yr old conspiracy theorist guy i couldn’t even enjoy my ship getting together lmao) also ur right, max and billy honestly did not offer anything to the story...like i loved max too but what was the point...billy acted like their presence and the reason they had to move was so dramatic when it was really nothing...unless they’re saving that for season 3 but like. the whole situation with billy was so anticlimactic. he was like a walmart version of henry from IT. like boohoo ur dad’s an asshole and then he beat up steve. good character arc. i liked max standing up for herself but really...that whole thing was so lackluster, i didn’t care about it at all. ALSO I HATED THAT THEY DIDN’T LET MAX AND ELEVEN BE FRIENDS!! i’m sure it’ll happen in season 3 but like c’mon...that would’ve made the max character feel a little more important to the story. anyway yeah fuck billy and i don’t get why everyone is lusting after him or his actor they’re both ugly! thanks for listening

I just got the sims 4 + city living and I’m so excited! I was really inspired by your stories and style in general... I was wondering what packs do you have and also what are your favourite sims 4 hairs? I’m having trouble finding ones and I love your style!

YAY I’M EXCITED FOR YOU!!! omg aww it warms my heart so much when people say i inspire them because i never anticipated that kind of response, thank you so much <3 hmmm i think i have all of them except glamour stuff and fitness stuff. and pretty much all the hairs i download are here or here. (or the subsequent ‘tf’, ‘cf’, ‘tm’ and ‘cm’ tags as well, according to age)

UHM a 19 year old and a 13 year old? Poor baby Lou... Also youre a brilliant writer i cant

😬😬😬  stay tuned ajasdhjhjsahd thank you so much!!!

My stan levels for you have increased so much? like thanks for being a good ally, clAps for femmesim!

lmao thank you, i don’t really deserve praise tho i’m just passing on the knowledge of those patient enough to teach me. just trying to do what i can with my privilege u know. ily

How do you have teeth showing in so many of your pictures of Lou and Molly, do you PS them in?

i’ve gotten this question before and it’s usually just the poses used! i do have some lipsticks that have teeth on them but i mostly use them for just rooney.

Honestly, a fight between Santi and that new guy (srry, forgot his name while typing this) would be so hot. Like, I hope Santi would win but like just watching Santi fight him for Lou would make me happy!! Also, I live for your stories💞

omG i’m about to call up vince mcmahon they both need to fight on smackdown it’s gonna happen. they’ll both be shirtless too ok and THANK YOU ILY

boi poc can be PREJUDICED against white people but there is no such thing as reverse racIIIIIIiiiiIIIIIiiiIIIIsm

Lemme just say that you must be feeling so stressed rn. I love you and your simblr!!! Your posts light up my day!! <3333

OMg kind of. this week has taken A Lot out of me and i really just want to chill at home and play my freaking GAME but obligations. u know. here’s hoping i get a day off this week. i’m mad i’m probably gonna miss gianni’s birthday too (it’s on tuesday) and i wanted to do something for it!! i’ll probably do it late like i did last year too lmao i’m so sorry baby g ANYWAY u didn’t ask to hear about any of this...thank you for this sweet message i love you <3

why,,,, are people... coming to your blog to discuss race you are a fucking simblr WHAT

the real question is why do people go to you like its your job to educate them lmao like theres so many resources out there

SHAWDY u aint wrong reverse racism is literally a joke i am so sorry you have to go through all of this keep stepping on white feelings we deserve it

I was wondering would u consider Asians to be POC?

yes

I just finished Strange the Dreamer and it was fucking amazing. I cried so much and I laughed and I sat in absolute amazement at the world Laini Taylor has created. 100/10 would recommend

ahhhh i really need to read it apparently!! i’m like 10% away from being done with a dance with dragons (and then i have to wait for the next book like a peasant HURRY UP KING GEORGE) anyway this one is definitely on my list!

omgomg!! I just met this girl in my class who has eyes just like ramona's!!! But like instead of being brown w/ a little bit of blue, they were blue w/ a little bit of brown!!! Dude I was so shook I rlly didn't think ppl had eyes like that!

OMG!!!! that’s amazing! and yes heterochromia is a real thing haha. i’ve only met one person with it and he had the same color combo as ramona too, only his was full heterochromia, not sectoral.

*me in the background screaming* nO yOU LEAVE HER ALoNE baD-DAD-MaN!

ME TF TOO

every time i read some of your stories i get an ache in my heart that doesn't go away until i either cry or sleep so interpret that as you like

OMG ;_____; ok me too tho my heart literally hurts thinking about my characters sometimes...mostly santi...i hate him (no i don’t :{ )

hey uhh idk if you've answered something like this before but do you have a spotify or something bc your music taste is GOLD

THANK YOU!! you were the first person to ask about this haha and hopefully you saw my answer to the other question about it! i just made one and it’s here!

hi hi ! i’m seeing all the drama on da blog and i really want to read the whole story but i can’t get to it on mobile so i was wondering if you could link the beginning and tell me what the best order to read it in is ( i’m so confused because i’ve seen sm people y’all about a parallel story so idk if i’m being dumb !! ) i hope this isn’t any inconvenience also your sims are so beautiful sjajsjajs

hey on mobile the link is just: http://femmesim.tumblr.com/tagged/story/chrono i would honestly just recommend that order haha, it makes things simpler and it encompasses ALL story posts, or posts that give context. there are parallels in my story, lou’s is kind of a parallel of santi’s, only different...well...you’ll see. but yeah sorry this is so late! and thank you!!!

TU HISTORIA ES TAAAAAN BUENA POR DIOOOOS (YOURE STORY IS SOOOOO GOOD OMG) <3 <3 *OO* *cries in spanish*

MUCHAS GRACIAS ENCANTADORA PERSONAAAA <333

lou is wendy right? i mean, a wendy complex is someone who is overly mothering to partners, and lou is already a mother and ik that doesn't really count as foreshadowing but it seems like it could be a link to me. it'd make sense too, considering guys that go after younger girls (ew) are usually immature ie peter pan complex. it'd make the most sense that those two go together then.

heheheheh that is a VERY good observation...that’s all i’m gonna say!!

This has nothing to do with what's happening in the story rn, but whatever. I was wondering if you were going to mention lou's struggles with being a single mom and the stigma surrounding single motherhood? As a single mother myself I'd really enjoy seeing you take on the issue. Personally, my biggest problem was overcoming the generalizations people put on you when you're a single mom. People always assumed that I that I was stupid and uneducated because I had my son when I was 17.

yes! that will definitely come up. i will focus a lot on her struggles as a single mom. so far i’ve mostly just peppered in some stuff about money troubles, and that will come up again, and the issues you mention will be pretty central to her character as well. i’m sorry you have to endure that, it’s not fair. people don’t even realize how strong and dedicated single mothers are.

when you say Peter Pan, do you mean the Disney stuff or the og creepy stuff?

i mean the general themes of the story and how that translates into a peter pan complex: boy who never grows up, feels like he fits in more with younger people (haha...yikes), read the message above because that anon described the other half of the equation better than i could

Wait, hold up. That dude is cute but I feel like he’s coming onto Lou way too strong. I have a bad feeling.. Lou is like 13 there and he is 19 I mean I’ve seen bigger gaps between people, but she is not legal yet.. Where are you going with this? 🤨😅

yyyyyyep that feeling is warranted! i am going a way i don’t think you guys expect me to go...i think you’ll be very confused at the end of this part lmao. that being said, i’m not putting any of this in for shock value or to romanticize inappropriate relationships like this. (i’m probably going to be repeating that a LOT for this story but please just keep that in mind)

Hey mom wanna hear a fun as hell story? I just got back from the ER bc I fell on my razor after showering, and practically cut my nipple in half. (I am in so much pain hELP)

OMFG NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR POOR NIPPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M SO SORRY I HOPE IT FEELS BETTER PLEASE UPDATE ME ON THE NIPPLE STATUS

U gotta watch sense8!!! Apart from the v awkward sex scenes it's v good, has a lot of representation and shit Just watch that shit show, u won't regret it (And if you do I cut your throat oops)

i’ve heard it’s good! i remember when it first came out and everyone was like Wow The Representation so honestly anything with diversity has already got me hooked pls don’t murder me.

I'm calling it now. He's Fi's dad. and he's a FUCKING CREEP!! Bitch you are 19!! LOU IS 13!! BACK THE FUCK OFF YOU PERV!!

no spoilers or anything but honestly i’m with you @ cillian die

Are they gonna fucc, o no

right now? no. that would be Very Bad

bABY ITS COLD OUTSIDE

oh same

Hi ! Your lastest edit (graveyard girl) is truly amazing, how did you make that bokeh behind her ? 😱😍

thank you so much!!! it’s reshade (with matso DOF)!

You've probably got this question a lot of times but i can't find the answer for it. What reshade do you use?

i gotta add this to my faq, it’s one i created myself but i started out with this one (it totally doesn’t resemble that one anymore but i think it’s a good starting point)

how do you make good looking male sims? mine always look the same and kinda girly..

hmmm longer faces, prominent chins and jaws, smaller eyes, bigger noses...generally yeah

What do you mean 9 + alt?

you gotta turn bb.moveobjects on and then press alt + 9 when an object is selected to move it upward. so what i did with those poses i made was, i selected a teleporter and pressed alt + 9 until it was at a spot i liked on the roof. that’s why releasing those poses would be tricky, ‘cause every build is different so there’s no set way to place them, you just kinda have to play around with them

You mentioned GoT so naturally, I have to chime in and express my love for Jon. Honestly, he won me over ever since the first season? I'm at season 5 now and people have already warned me so now i'm silently weeping, waiting for something to happen to my precious bby help

JONNY BOY!!!!!!!!!!! i loved his emo ass since the beginning but his arc with qorin halfhand (was he in the show??) was probably the best arc in book 2 and then his book 3 arc was just...SO GOOD, SO MUCH happens to him and i just felt like i was watching my son go through it all...i love that boy so much ;-; i’m almost at the end of the last book and i’m scared for him because of the one spoiler i know lmao and you’re at that point too so GET READY we’ll go through it together ok

So there's this game I'm playing where someone talking about another character says 'maybe you can break him from his ouroboros of self-fladulation' (I know I probably butchered those spellings but I'm not a bright egg and autocorrect isn't helping rip) and tbh it made me think of Santi. (Also I'mma scream of you get this reference jsyk)

OMG THE FACT THAT YOU THOUGHT OF HIM ;-; and it’s okay u are the brightest egg in the bunch to me. I’M SORRY I DON’T GET THIS REFERENCE BECAUSE I’M NOT A VIDEO GAME PERSON BUT I’LL PRETEND I DO KNOW WHAT UR TALKING ABOUT anyway yes santi is currently in the process of breaking his self-flagellation and embracing the oneness of the ouroboros (as opposed to letting the cycle repeat itself until he’s worn down to nothing)

do you have any favorite pose creators?

answered

do you have any tips for taking good screenshots in game? like how to get the good angles and good quality? i play on ultra but i think when i zoom in and then use the arrows on my keyboard to move around, the pictures gets less clear and looks kinda blurry. how should i do this?

well if you’re already using ultra, there’s not much you can do lmao. sims 4 is just bad with textures in general. it also depends on the objects as well, some are better quality than others. if i zoom in far on a sim’s face, i generally know there will be some pixelation and i can clean that up in photoshop with topaz clean and the smudge tool. i am very reliant on photoshop sometimes lmao. it sounds like you already have the basics of taking good screenshots, it’s just sometimes you have to fight and work with sims 4′s less-than-hd quality.

burn it down by daughter reminds me of santi & i'm in pain

ouroboros!!! death! birth! death again! birth again rinse repeat! also santi breaking the cycle because third time's the charm

The tattoo is an Ouroboros. It originated in Egyptian iconography, and it symbolizes recreation. My boy's recreating himself, I'm so proud.

ouroboros, the dragon eating its own tail. it's a sign of eternal renewal

i saw the post of child molly and just started BAWLING i miss her what the fuck she's my fave character i'M CRYING

ME TOO BICH!! ME FUCKIN TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i just read all of A Serious Case Of The Novembers so far and theres still tears on my face. some of the best stuff ive read in a while, great job on everything

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! ALSO I’M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU CRY

every time you write about molly and her in heaven it makes my heart swell, like the characters were answering asks and someone asked her what heaven was like and even though it was so small short lil answer it still pulls at the heart strings, basically what im trying to say is that your writing is so good! <3

omg ;_______; me too, i feel like she has such a simple way with words and although her descriptions of heaven are brief, they are also complex and beautiful, and even just writing it chokes me up ;-; thank you so much tho i’m so glad you like it!!

Molly: out Molly tatto: also out

why did this remind me of this post:

How did you edit in the fire in the last post? Looks cool

i searched things like “bonfire” and pasted parts of it that i wanted on the pic to make it look more realistic, then put a layer mask on the pasted pic and erased the edges and stuff to make it blend in better. the sparks and stuff i added by pasting it onto a new layer and changing the blending mode to screen! 

idk if you have every watched grey anatomy but Lou's backstory is starting to remind me of Jo (Jo is a character from the show) like Jo was in a abusive relationship and she is married to the guy but she cant get divorced or he will come and find her. So like if Lou didn't tell Fiona's dad he was a dad and Lou was married to him and cant escape the marriage (cause abuse), plus it would explain Lou's kink with being choked ;) full circle *god-like heaven music with tiniest violin is playing now*

ooh no i don’t but that’s interesting and i’m excited you even made a connection like that! i will say that it’s not lou who likes to be choked (the very opposite actually lmao) but otherwise the situation does kinda fit. i’m the violin

I have a freakin bio pre ap test tomorrow on photosynthesis and i have no idea what it is im going to fail save me

I’M ANSWERING THIS VERY LATE BUT I HOPE YOUR TEST WENT WELL!!!!!! *spongebob voice* photosynthesis

last time I installed reshade I couldn't get it to open the controls or shaders or anything in game :///// any tips?? I love they way reshade looks too!!

hmmmmm well i know the control panel opens when you press shift + f2, and then you check the boxes of the effects you want on them. i haven’t heard of this problem so i dunno what other advice to give i’m sorry :{ if it’s your first time installing it, you might have to wait a little to get it to load up.

Da puppy is so cute!!!

That dog and Romona are so adorable, I might cry

Ramona's cheeks are so big im in love

NAJKSDJGKJSD THANK YOU i love her and her chubby cheeks ;-;

OMG TOTORO IS SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE GHIBLI UGH FKSJFJANFB

SAME!!!!!!! if i could only watch ghibli movies for the rest of my life i’d be totally fine with that

THE DOGGIE HAS EYES JUST LIKE RAMONAS IM GONNA FUCKIGN CRY

ME FUCKGN TOO!!!!!!!!!! it was fate (aka me creating the wolf pup to look just like her shh i am fate)

Hope I'm not bothering you but i wondered if you knew how to make Tamo sims eyebags work on a toddler? Do I just click in s4s to work for toddler on the "age and gender flags" when looking in My CC or do I have to do something a little more than that please? Thank you.

for any skin detail or makeup, you have to go into s4s and open the package up, go to one of the tabs (honestly i don’t remember which one because i don’t have it open rn lmao) and you’ll see the different age groups and you check the box for toddler. and then save it of course. (there’s probably a better guide on how to do this somewhere lmao)

Hey :) Sorry to take up your time, I was wondering if you use win7, win8 or win10? I'm trying to decide on one and people seem to have very strong feelings about it. Also what web browser do you use? I've used Firefox, but I had some problems on CC websites. Thanks<3

i use windows 10 because it came with my laptop lmao i honestly don’t know much about windows systems at all!! and i use google chrome because it’s never failed me (even though windows keeps pressuring me to use the new internet explorer called “edge”)

i just finished all of novembers in a sitting and 1. i'm Sobbing, 2. your music taste is bomb

THANK YOU!!! my music taste is like one part indie shit, one part rap and hip-hop, twelve parts emo middle school bands

what is the size of the original unedited screenshot?

1920x1080

For reshade when your first install and select the reshade you want to use do you have to edit the settings? Cause last time I tried to (I didn’t know what most of the things meant lmao) but it kept saying error or something so I couldn’t play the game so I ended up taking out reshade

do you mean the preset you want to use? i mean no you can just play with that preset, you don’t have to change anything about it. i’m not sure what you mean but i followed this guide for setting it up

Will you ever share your preset?? Or maybe a preset made be you??

i’ve answered this before but the answer is Maybe

Hi!!!! How do you make the rays of light you have in your photos?? THANK U BBY <3333

that’s actually in my editing tutorial but here you go <3

is reshade only available on windows + do we need to pay for it

yes and no

Hello love! I was wondering (and maybe it's a dumb question, idk) but what life span setting do you use? I would assume you turned off aging for your story but maybe I'm wrong ;w; Thank you!!

i do actually have aging off ‘cause i’m a coward lmao even in the ts3 days when i wasn’t doing story stuff and literally just playing i had it off for the most part and just aged sims up when i wanted because i like to be in control of Everything (aries)

I really just wanted to say that I’m new I your tumblr but your stories are amazing and I love them so much!!! Keep doing what you’re doing💞👏🏼

hey thank you!!! you are so kind and i’m glad you’re enjoying everything!!

In your reshade settings where have you set it to save your SS's to and which key please? I can't find mine after setting it to desktop/screenshots :(

i just set mine to ts4′s screenshots folder because it’s what i was used to and it works for me haha. hmmmmmm did you copy the exact address or whatever it’s called of your folder’s location and then paste it into the reshade box? try doing that with another location and see if it works. if anything you can do what i did ‘cause it worked for me 

ok SO i came across this music video for this like spanish/english speaking indie band called The Marías and the song was déjate llevar and literally everything about the music video reminded me of rooney and gianni

OMMMGGG i love this so much, i cry @ music suggestions and this is so them ;-; i think i’ve heard of this band before actually!!

a little life is going to fucking ruin you,,, just a warning

great! i look forward to it

can a steal ur talent

have it i don’t need it

What app are you using to make them cool edit things??

i tagged it but it was doodle face

omg Strange the Dreamer is so freaking amazing! It’s literally one of my favorite books of all time; You’ll love it. The writing is absolutely delightful

you guys are really singin the praises for this book!! i have so many dang books to read i swear

[dizaydammahom]

Marvel’s Iron Fist LONG (Drag-on) rant. “Come on, it’s just a TV show!” I write this for my own catharsis, because I also happen to be a storyteller and a frustrated writer. POTENTIAL SPOILER. So I finished watching Iron Fist, and I was left feeling angry like I did after The Legend of Korra. The shows are similar in the department: heroes I can’t root for. I wanted to like it, but no. It was a BvS the TV series for me.

– 

1. CHOREOGRAPHY 

was weak for a series that had established its benchmark in Daredevil. You can clearly see the stunt doubles which takes you away from the believability in the scenes. When the real actors were doing it, the hesitations in their movements were so obvious as if they were afraid of hitting the other guy for real, or as if the opponent was waiting for the rehearsed movement to finish before chaining to the next attack. Some scenes that were supposed to look serious made me laugh because it was poorly executed!

–

2. CHARACTER REPRESENTATION 

was inconsistent. Daredevil took a beating far worse than the Immortal Iron Fist did but the former trudged his way back into action regardless. The latter however, flinched at a mere scratch. I get it, they don’t want another Daredevil, but for someone who had taken some serious beating for 15 years in a monastery, this is borderline Shinji Ikari. Speaking of which, after more than a decade speaking fluent Chinese, he still couldn’t pronounce K’un Lun properly. Another character whose name was Bakuto, called himself Buh-kew-do… Like Rye-You and Chonn Lee. That said, a K'un Lun native Davos talks in a British accent and looks nothing like his father? Even so his presence and movement were far more convincing and confident than Danny Rand who perpetually sucked his gut every time he was shirtless. Sorry, small details but very important ones. Anyway, you establish a protagonist who is an excellent quoter of the sutra but his actions were a complete antithesis, childish, and most of the time frustrating. I found myself rooting for Ward and his arc more than the titular character.

–

3, MARTIAL ARTS

It’s a martial arts show but I’d have to agree with the critics: most of the time was spent in board room drama. You have 13 episodes worth of wasted potential. For an Orientalist show featuring a White Savior, Kung Fu: The Legend Continues did so much better. They could have juxtaposed Danny’s training as a flashback and relates to his present time as he overcomes his obstacles in New York. The threats felt more real in Daredevil (I keep referring to DD because both shows deal with The Hand).

There’s SO MUCH to be explored and exploited for the most Kung Fu hero of The Defenders. If you played Street Fighter you’ll recall Gen, whose move would result in a delayed combo. Man, that would have been sick to see in live action. Could even be fatal, like in Kill Bill Vol. 2.

–

4. THE HERO’S JOURNEY

Luke Cage and Jessica Jones had their moments of “what if you take away powers from your heroes, and make them vulnerable?”. I hated the fact that his anger and confusion made it difficult for Danny to summon the Iron Fist. Again, being a martial arts show, where’s the chi blocking pressure points technique that disables our hero, stripping him off his power? Heck, it’s fiction, they could’ve amped it up by having the move to potentially backfire the summoning of Iron Fist - it could implode if Danny attempted to focus his chi. More danger! That’s when we get to see Danny Rand powerless, solely depending on self defense. Perhaps even more needy of Colleen Wing’s protection. He’d probably question his worth without his powers during that time. And later on upon the realization that even without the Iron Fist, he still puts up a heckuva fight to protect whatever he was fighting for and whatever nonsense that was holding him back, he learns to unblock it by internally removing his fears or…. Have Wing teach him a friggin’ Yoga or… Whatever, man! It was so ridiculous when Berkeuwdoe taught him the taichi crap and he followed the move with his eyes closed and he carried on afterwards. I laughed!

–

5. CONCLUSION

All in all, I didn’t learn anything new in Iron Fist. Daredevil had taken The Hand’s dilemma to great depths and heights that there’s nothing new shown in this one. Jessica Jones had her own psychological thriller torture, Luke Cage was THE Black guy you can’t shoot. Iron Fist? If you skipped the show you didn’t even miss anything leading up to the Defenders other than fan service. Claire Temple’s presence didn’t really help the arc either. It would have made more sense if Danny DID subdue The Hand in New York, but only to find that it was just a tiny speck of The Hand’s reach, and he needed to get a hold of Temple’s past encounters to face the big threat. 

[bluesakurablossom]

Life's Gift of Love: Miley's Love Story

Chapter 3 Sky's Pov... Banging my head side to side and my hips swaying, I listened to my favorite songs on my speaker as I cleaned up my work station. I dusted my shelves of paints as I spun around getting into the beat of listening to "Need Your Love by Shaggy" and I swayed towards my reclining chair and sprayed it with furniture polish and wiped it clean till it was all shiny. I straightened out my canvases of spin art work on my wall as the best part of the song came on and I began to sing along to it while dancing all around the room. I need your love, I need your love, I need your lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love I need your love, I need your love, I need your I need your love, I need your love, I need your lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love Let me love you o-o-o Wo o-o-o, wo o-o-o Let me love you o-o-o I need your love, I need your love, I need your lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love I need your love, I need your love, I need your yes, mi amor I need your love, I need your love, I need your lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love Let me love you o-o-o As I did a final spin leaning back singing the last line of the chorus, I stood up giggling but then without warning, a face was staring at me through my small window I had and I shrieked and fell backwards doing a flip on my chair landing on the floor with a thump. I quickly got up and looked over and saw Mikey staring at me with a huge grin. "Nice moves! You got groove dudette!", he said, with his voice sounding muffled behind the glass I quickly went over sliding the window open. "Dude seriously?! You scared the crap out of me! I thought I was going to have a heart attack!", I said, sounding a bit annoyed "Sorry", he said, smiling sheepishly "I didn't want to make anyone see or hear me, I thought you were alone, besides I got distracted by your dancing" I took a breath, knowing he didn't mean to do it on purpose and that he was only watching me. "It's okay, and sorry, I had no idea you were coming by down here", I said "I was in the neighborhood", he said "Just chilling out, I'm sorry I scared you" "Its cool, just let's make a further reference to make some kind of signal to let me know you are going to sneak up on me", I said, smirking "Yeah right", he said, rubbing the back of his neck sounding awkward "Here come on in, my boss just left and its just you and me", I said, walking back to my tray Mikey started to wedge his small but yet thick body in through the small window, wiggling like a worm trying to get out of the dirt. "Wait how did you even know where I worked?", I asked "Well it was the only tattoo shop that was on your block here", he said, craning his head to look at me "Mmmmmm point taken", I said, shrugging my shoulders nodding "Sorry about the mess I was just cleaning up my place by the time you had gotten here" "Nah don't worry you should see my room, its way worse than anything!", he said, jumping inside "I can imagine", I said, giggling He closed the window as he started looking around my work station. "Hey nice gig you got Sky! I love the street art", Mikey said, looking around "Oh thanks, yeah when I first got hired here we were allowed to design our own station how we wanted to", I said "I always saw graffiti all the time when growing up, so I used my artistic skills and made it look like graffiti, but the good kind that police wouldn't arrest you for" "Were you always this good? These are awesome!", he said "No surprisingly not, I stunk at drawing", I said, giggling "I was never any good at it" "Seriously? But it looks like you have been doing this all your life", Mikey said, surprised "Nope", I said, shaking my head "All my artwork was scribbled, slanted or just plain out messy. But I never gave up on it, I took art classes in school to improve till I got my tattooing license" "Well you certainly got quite an artistic view my friend", he said, sitting on my chair kicking back "Thanks, doodling in my notebook when the teacher did a boring lecture in class did bring in some extra practice", I said, cleaning a needle "That's something I would be doing if Leo gave us a boring lecture about the whole ninja thing", Mikey said, laughing "Oh? Who is Leo? A friend of yours?", I asked "He is actually my older brother", he said "I got three of them, I am the baby of the family" "That's cool, I wish I had siblings growing up", I said "They can be a bit of pain in the shell though", he said, shrugging "Got two of them fighting most of the time, and one that causes explosions from doing crazy experiments and using my stuff as test subjects" "Wow, not your typical siblings you would hear about", I said, surprised "Yeah but even though we do have our differences we still love each other deep", he said "Well that's always what matters", I said, smiling "No matter how crazy the relationship might be" "I wouldn't call it crazy, I would say its more insane", he said, snickering I couldn't help but giggle. "Well you are sure are lucky, that sounds better than having to do things by yourself all the time", I said, looking away "What do you mean?", he asked "I was kind of left to myself growing up, really kind of like the kid who had to grow up quick at an early age and take care of herself", I said, cleaning a needle with my rag "Why?", he asked, looking at me concerned I sighed and gulped hard, this subject was always hard to bring up to anyone, as I set my rag and needles down on the tray. "Because of my parents splitting up", I said "I was kind of forgotten in the whole process" "How come your parents split up?", he asked "I really honestly don't know", I said, shaking my head "It's just like one minute everything was okay and then the next moment it goes to shit" "Well that doesn't sound right", he said "Don't you still talk with your parents?" "Mom hardly anymore since every time we talk it always ends up in an argument and dad haven't talked to him since he left us", I said, shaking my head "That doesn't make any sense", he said "Just getting up and leaving like that" "You are telling me", I said, nodding my head I looked down and stopped with my cleaning with my rag. I stood still what seemed like an eternity until I finally felt myself moving, but it was small movement, my lip quivering. I then began to shake uncontrollably as emotions began to build up inside of me. "Sky?", Mikey said, worriedly I tried to put on a straight face as I looked up at him, trying not to make it obvious. "No, no its fine Mikey, I am okay really", I said, with my voice sounding like it was cracking "Hey, come here", he said, holding out his arms out to me I didn't think twice of walking to him as I wrapped my arms around him and he brought me into such a warm embrace that was filled with comfort. "Just let it out Sky, just let it all out", he said When he said those words, it was like a chain reaction and everything that was bottled up inside of me for a decade had finally been released from the damn. I started to cry into his shoulder as the years of pain, sadness and loneliness poured out of me. As much it hurts me, it felt good to finally have someone be there and let me take everything that was torturing me everyday out of my system. I was worried I was making this uncomfortable for Mikey, but all he did was just bring me close to him and his hand rubbed my back in soothing circles, encouraging me to keep going. "It's okay Sky, just let it all out, I am here for you", he said, softly Although I only cried for another good ten minutes, it seemed like I was crying for hours. I honestly would not have let my emotions spilled out if Mikey was not there. I slowly pulled away from him but he kept me in his arms as I let out shaky breathes while Mikey rubbed my shoulders helping me calm down. "Are you okay?", he asked "Yeah, yeah I am good", I said, nodding my head "I am sorry, you just get to a point where you hold it in for so long, it just finally breaks" "It's perfectly fine Sky, everyone needs to cry every now and again", he said "Yeah, but I should of done that a long time ago, you know I am going to be honest with you", I said "I haven't cried in ten years" "Seriously?!", he said, looking shocked "Just couldn't do it", I said, shaking my head "I had to keep focused and keep moving, I had no time to grieve since I was so busy taking care of myself and other things" "I can't believe you held it in for that long", he said "I am surprised myself, it's just I really don't know why I lost everything so fast, it was just out of my reach when I wanted to fix it and make it right and it's just not fair", I said, feeling my eyes fill up more with tears Mikey gently took his hand and wiped away at the falling tears down my cheeks. "Hey, don't worry, it will get better", he said I nodded managing to smile a little bit. "I do hope so too, thanks", I said, nodding "You feel better now?", he asked "Much better than what I have been feeling in this past decade", I said "It feels good to finally let it all out" He smiled. "Hey I think I got an idea, wanna head down by the shores for a little while? If you have nothing to do, you know to get your mind off of everything", he said I looked slightly away thinking about it for a moment till I smiled up to him. "That sounds really nice, I would love to", I said, nodding in agreement "Great!", he said, enthusiastically, making me giggle "I have never been down there before and I really always wanted to go" "Seriously? You haven't?", I asked, surprised "Not allowed to, could be seen", he said, shrugging "Well tonight we can make it an exception", I said, grabbing my bag "Cause I know the best spot where you won't be seen" "You sure?", he asked "Have I ever stirred you wrong?", I asked, giving him a cocked eyebrow "Well we did just meet only two days ago", he said "Close enough", I said, smiling "Come on, let me lock up and we can go!" I made sure all the lights were turned off and security system was up and running before peeking outside the door, making sure no one was around to see Mikey. "Coast is clear, come on", I said, looking back I walked out with Mikey following close behind me as he jumped up swinging on the tattoo parlor lit up neon sign and swung up to another building on the rooftop beside the shop, then looked down at me. "What are you doing up there?", I asked "Be safer, don't want to get spotted, always do this when I am out", he said "Ahhh okay then, follow me, its close by here", I said, walking away I walked on the sidewalk, occasionally looking up to see Mikey was doing all these cool moves while moving across the rooftops. He made it look so easy to do, though if I did it, it would probably leave me with a broken bone or possibly pushing myself to an early grave. I slipped on my aquamarine Aeropostale zip up hoodie as it started to get breezy out and made sure that my green bandanna with white flowers on it was tight around my head, not wanting it to fly away. Walking for a few more blocks we made it to the sea side, I looked up to see Mikey had flipped down trying to do a smooth landing, but had hit a flagpole that was hanging off of someone's balcony and he shrieked as he landed hard into a dumpster, with the lid closing down on top of him. "Mikey!", I called out, worriedly He then opened the lid up with his arm, giving me a dizzy look, like the one you would see if someone was seeing stars floating around and gave me a thumbs up. "I'm okay", he said, with his head spinning He fell backwards with the lid closing in on top of him. "Oh brother", I said, rolling my eyes walking towards the dumpster After Mikey recovered from his leap of faith, we walked down the board walk and climbed down the stairs getting down on the sand. "We made it", I said, smiling "It looks way better than seeing it from a distance!", Mikey said, looking around "This is awesome!" "Race you to the water!", I said, shoving his shoulder playfully I took off running across the sand looking back seeing Mikey wasn't too far behind me. "Hey! No fair Sky, you got a head straight!", he called out, trying to catch up "Snooze you lose big guy!", I called out, running backwards before running forward again "Catch me if you can slowpoke!" "Oh its on girl! Just wait till I get a hold of you!", he called out I laughed as I did a cartwheel showing off since I was far enough ahead where I didn't think Mikey would be able to catch up. But I guess I showed off too soon as Mikey started to come straight at me like a bullet and I shrieked trying to pick up the pace as Mikey laughed trying to grab at me with his arms. "Who is the slowpoke now?!", he said, with a smirk "No! No!", I said, laughing and screaming He then finally caught me as he grabbed my arms bringing me to him, but he tripped in a hole in the sand and before you know it we were both rolling over each other continuously on the damp sand, grunting. We finally came to a stop as I landed on top of Mikey and we both looked at each other now covered in sand and we both struggled not to laugh, but we then suddenly bursted out laughing our heads off. "I feel like I just came out of being buried alive", I said, laughing "I feel like the Sandman put too much sand on me", Mikey said, snickering "I might sleep for an entire month!" "Wow for a turtle you sure can run fast", I said "You are no slouch yourself", he said I giggled as I slid off of him as Mikey sat up and a gush of wind smacked into us. Mikey tried to block the wind with his arm while I held on to my bandanna with my hands and scrunching my face up. "Yikes very windy tonight!", he said I opened my eyes slightly to see, but then went wide seeing what was in front of us. "Sandstorm!", I said, pointing straight ahead A huge whirlwind of sand came straight for us as the wind blew hard. "Duck!", I yelled "Yipe!", Mikey said We turned on our stomachs with Mikey's arm going around me as the sand blew over and around us as we hid our faces down, avoiding the flying minerals. When I felt the wind had finally died down we both slowly started to sit up. "Woah that was close", Mikey said, shaking off some sand from his shoulder "Too close", I said, giggling shaking the sand off of my bandanna I then noticed something out of the corner of my eye that looked like a small ditch and something shining out of it from the glowing moon up in the sky. "Hey what's that?", I asked, crawling over "What's what?", Mikey asked "There is something buried here", I said, moving closer I began to move some of the sand that the wind had blown away and I gasped amazed. "Woah Mikey, look what I found!", I said "It's a nest!" "No way! Seriously?!", he said, quickly coming over to check it out "It's a sea turtles nest", I said "Look all these eggs!" "Woah that's a lot of eggs! How many are there?", he asked "Probably a good hundred in here, that's the average size of any sea turtle", I said "I wonder what species it might be" "Well I think we might just find out", Mikey said "Look one is hatching!" One little egg on top of the clutch began to move and we both moved closer to get a better look. The top of the egg made a slight crack and a little black head poked its head out. "Come on you can do it, move your way out of there", Mikey said, encouraging the baby It then gave a few more wiggles before it made it out of its previous home and slid down over the other eggs and began to look around. It had a little hard black shell and light grey flippers and I then realized what species it was. "They are leatherback sea turtle eggs!", I said, surprised "Look there are more coming out!", Mikey said, pointing The sound of eggshells cracking filled the air as the baby turtles wiggled their way out of the protective shells they have been growing in for months as they started to explore the outside world. "Awwwww they are so cute!", Mikey said, completely adored by the little hatchlings while laying on the sand "They sure are", I said, agreeing I noticed one was on its shell wiggling about as it tried to get back on its belly flapping its little flippers. I gently picked it up with my hand turning it over on its right side. "There you go little fella", I said, putting it back on the sand The baby turtles then started to make their way over the small dunes of sand which seem huge to them out towards the ocean. "Where are they going?", Mikey asked "They are off to start a new life, out into an unknown world of discovery", I said "Let's hope they make it", he said, watching them go over the sand "Come on, let's follow them", I said, crawling behind them "Hey wait for me!", he said We both crawled on our stomachs following the little hatchlings in front of and beside us, as if we were turtles ourselves. Well count Mikey as already being one. Over the sand as they made it closer and closer towards the edge of the water. "They are so tiny, I wasn't even that small when I was little", Mikey said, looking at one crawling over a little dune "And to think, if most of them make it out there, they will grow up to more than seven feet long and weigh nearly as much as a car", I said "Wow that's huge! That's bigger than my brother!", Mikey said, amazed I giggled as we made it closer to the water and we watched all the baby turtles swim to the water and being swept away by the current. "Good luck little dudes and dudettes!", Mikey called out "Let us know what you find out there!" "If only they could Mikey", I said, shaking my head smiling I then got an idea as I saw one of the inflatable boats with a motor attached to the back on the dock. "Hey I got an idea, come on", I said, getting up and running towards the edge of the dock "We can head out there and see if we can find more critters" "Wait up!", he called out He followed close behind as I jumped in the boat with Mikey hoping in front. "Light it up captain!", he said, doing a salute I started up the motor as we began to quickly move out into the sea. "Wahoo! This is awesome!", Mikey said, holding his arms out imagining like he was flying through the air I couldn't help but giggle at his behavior of imitating the scene in the Titanic. "Hang on Mikey, you don't want to go overboard!", I called out, laughing We drove the boat out till we were out where you could just see the beach and I could hear splashing being heard. "Hey there is something out there!", Mikey called out, looking back at me "What is it?", I called out "I don't know but its really big!", he said I took a peek beside him and from the glowing moonlight on the surface of the water, I could see slender white animals jumping out of the water as they landed diving back down. I thought at first I was seeing dolphins, but as I looked closer they were much bigger than dolphins and as one jumped up again making a shadow in front of the moon I couldn't help myself but get excited. "Woah beluga whales! I have seen them from the shoreline but never this close!", I said As I moved the boat closer, two of them dove under the water while two others jump out of the water, diving back down into the dark abyss of the water. When I stopped the boat and there was no sign of them as the water settled and there was silence. "Where did they go?", Mikey asked "I don't know, they were just here", I said "Maybe we might of scared them with the motor" "Wait there is one!", Mikey said, pointing Suddenly one appeared on the surface and began to swirl around, as if it was dancing and we both started laughing and then it blew air out of its blowhole and swam closer to us, poking its head above the surface before it dove down. Then the others started to swim around us and one as it dove down swung with his huge tail on the surface of the water splashing us both. "Hey!", Mikey said, shaking himself free of the water I giggled and then one suddenly came straight towards us and it jumped out of the water flying over us and the boat. "Wow!", I said, amazed "Cool!", Mikey said, sounding excited like me The other whales started to swim around us and started to jump out of the water splashing us repeatedly. Like we were in our own splash zone. As each whale breached landing down on the water, we both got soaked to the bone but we didn't care, we were just laughing and laughing at the performance. One more then came out in front of us leaning backwards and splashing down in front of us, making a huge wave splash on top of us and even making the whole boat sway back and forth before it settled, making us both shriek with laughter. "Oh my god!", I said, giggling "Dude I am soaked!" "Me too! And I thought you get more soaked at Sea World!", he said, shaking his head from the water Then the whales appeared in front of us, poking their heads out beside the boat. "You guys sure got skills, but nice job on getting us wet", I said, petting on its head "Yeah dudes, that was awesome!", Mikey said, petting one too One then jumped more in the water where it was at my eye level moving its flippers side to side, like arms moving to me. "Awwwww sure, you can have a hug", I said, hugging it gently for a few seconds before it dipped back down in the water One swam up towards Mikey till it flipped on its back showing its underbelly and Mikey gently stroked it, as it held itself still. "Awwwww they are adorable like the little turtles!", Mikey said, looking at me "These whales are very social with human interaction if they are out here, but I have never seen a pod that was this social", I said, stroking one's head "Let alone will allow you to actually touch them" "I guess we are considered lucky tonight", Mikey said "Yeah really lucky", I said, smiling The whales then dove down as the tide started to come around again and they began to swim off into the moonlight. "Bye you guys!", I called out, waving "Hope we will see you again soon!", Mikey called out As if by coincidence one whale stuck its tail up in the air and waved it side to side, like it was waving back to us as we both laughed. "Now that was awesome!", I said "Totally! Great night on the sea side!", he said "Come on, let's head back to shore", I said, as I started up the motor I stirred the boat towards the dock as we rode along the waves carrying us faster. We ported the boat where it was last put and we climbed back on the stairs to the top of the boardwalk. We decided to go hang out at my place for a little while before Mikey had to head home. As like how we walked to the shore, Mikey ran along the rooftops while I walked on the sidewalk below. I was listening to my music on my phone through my earbuds jamming out, not acknowledging anything and I learned my lesson of not to do that, as my leg ran into something causing me to loose my balance. Luckily I had caught myself on a wall catching my breath. Mikey seemed to have noticed me trip as I saw him quickly jumping down on the staircases of a fire escape landing in front of me. "You okay Sky?", he asked "Yeah I am cool", I said, giggling "That was my fault, I was jamming out, whatever was in that box sure is heavy for it to make me nearly fall on my face" We looked over seeing the small box, but then we suddenly heard a noise coming from it, making it shake slightly. "Uh did you just see that?", I asked, a bit confused "Yeah I did, what the heck was that?", he asked, looking at it freaked out I moved closer towards it as it moved again, this time pushing up on the closed flaps on top of each other, making us both flinch back. "Okay something is definitely in there", I said "What if its a snake?! Like a rattlesnake?! Or a cobra?!", Mikey said, in fear "There is no is snake in there", I said, laughing "We would know if there was one in there" "What if there is one in there? It could like lunge out at us!", Mikey said, laughing "There isn't, there is no hissing or rattling", I said, giggling "It's probably jumping beans or something Mikey, someone probably delivered it and they are waiting to get it in the morning" Mikey cautiously went to the box and began to tap on the flaps of the box. "Maybe there is nothing in there", he said "Knock knock" I then noticed one of the flaps of the box push down inside. "Wait push that flap down a little more because I have my flash now", I said, taking out my phone and turning on the flashlight "Maybe I can get a better look" He pushed down on the flap as I got down on my knees and peered inside and then a pair of glowing eyes met mine and a twitchy nose looked up at me. "It's a bunny!", I said, looking up at Mikey quickly "Its a bunny Mikey!" "What?! Oh my god!", he said, shocked "Look!", I said, pointing inside He peered inside and gasped as the little rabbit poked its head out of the opening. "Oh my god, its a little rabbit!", Mikey said "Here hold this!", I said, handing him my phone He took it as I started to open up the box and inside was the cutest rabbit I have ever seen. It was a good size that can fit perfectly in my arms, with black and brown patches with black hairs and a cute pink nose with long whiskers and long black ears. "Is there anymore in there?", Mikey asked "No its just this bunny", I said, completely awed The bunny stood up on its hind legs resting its front paws on the rim of the box and I carefully picked it up as it tried to climb on me. "Awwww that's a cute one!", Mikey said "Oh my god hello!", I said, petting its head gently "You are so freaking cute!" "What do we do with it?", Mikey asked "I don't know its just Mikey oh my god!", I said, struggling to hold my tears as well as my awe "Oh my god! Who does this?! Mikey, he is freezing, he is shaking in my arms!" "Oh he is scared!", he said, petting his back as the bunny curled up more in my arms "You know what he is coming home with me", I said, tucking him into my jacket "Yeah definitely go with you!", Mikey said, nodding eagerly "Can't believe that, who would dare do this to you?!", I said, kissing the bunnies little nose "Oh my god! We just rescued a rabbit!", Mikey said, running up beside me "Jesus Christ, the little guy could of died out here", I said, looking at him "Is he okay?", he asked, looking inside my jacket "Looks like it, he is settling down, I will have to give him a good look over when I get home", I said, pulling him closer to me "Climb up on the rooftops, we will head back to my place" "Gotcha dudette!", he said, running off into the alley and jumping up to the top I did a quick walk with Mikey following close beside me from up above as we headed back to my place. Luckily we didn't have to walk too far before we made it back to my place. I quickly walked up the stairs and went inside my apartment and it wasn't long before Mikey came in through my back window, climbing inside. "Get my blanket, off the couch!", I said, as I quickly went to the thermostat Mikey quickly got my thick blanket off the couch bunching it up as I turned up the heat to make it warm up quickly. The air started blowing soothing warm air as I got the rabbit out of my jacket and into the blanket. Mikey bundled him up rubbing him gently to warm him up. "Keep him still I am going to see if he is going okay", I said I did a physical check on the rabbit to make sure he wasn't injured or showing any signs of illness from being out in the cold. "I think we just saved him in the knick of time", I said "He doesn't appear to have any injuries and no signs of contracting any illness" "Oh that's a relief!", he said, letting out a huge sigh "He just needs to warm up", I said "Keep him in that blanket for a little while, he needs to stay warm, I'm going to see if we can make him eat a little" I went into my fridge and I grabbed a few pieces of parsley, a baby carrot and a leaf of kale and went walking back into the living room and I smiled seeing the bunny sniffing at Mikey's face. "He feels like Lola and Iggy", he said, chuckling I giggled. "Here baby, I got some food, you must be hungry", I said Mikey turned the rabbit around as I held out the piece of kale and the rabbit quickly bit at the fresh vegetable and started eating it like crazy. "Oh you were starving honey", I said "Poor little guy", Mikey said, looking sadly at him "Why was he left out there?" I sighed. "I am afraid it was human ignorance and lack of care, respect and love for this little guy and decided they didn't want to care for him anymore", I said "How could they?", Mikey said, sadly "That's just...terrible" "I am not so sure why Mikey, but I hate to say this, but this happens everyday all around the world", I said He looked at me scared and then down at the rabbit and he held him closer, afraid that he was going to be taken from him. He petted him along his head and back, and rocking him side to side. He looked like a child that was scared during a thunderstorm, hugging his beloved stuffed animal to him for comfort and security. "Mikey", I said He looked up at me with small tears in his eyes. "But there are people out there who are trying to stop this, so that it never has to happen again, like what you and I did tonight. We saved his life and he is going to be okay, he won't be alone anymore and he will be safe from harm and will feel nothing but love", I said "Really?", he said, hopefully "Yes, I promise", I said "Are you going to keep him?", he asked "I am, besides I have been wanting to get a rabbit for quite some time and he is just the sweetest thing I have ever seen", I said, scratching his ear "He will live here with me, better for him anyways than leaving him out there or taking him to a shelter" "Yes!", he said, in a victory voice I giggled and the rabbit looked up at Mikey and began to sniff his face again as he laughed. The bunny then began to chew on his mask tugging on it with his little teeth. "Hey cut that out! That's my mask", he said, laughing I laughed along too. "Be warn Mikey bunnies love to chew on anything", I said The bunny then jumped down from the couch and began to hop around, exploring his new home. He sniffed at my furniture and rubbed up against it and without warning he binked into the air and began to run around. Mikey and I laughed as he ran around the couch several times. "What is he doing?", Mikey said, looking over the couch "He is happy, rabbits do that when they are really happy", I said The bunny then stopped running and he then flopped against the baseboard. We both couldn't help but awe as he was trying to catch his breath from his burst of happiness. "Oh my god, he is so adorable!", I said "What should we name the little guy?", Mikey asked "Mmmmmm well since you were the one to find him, why don't you name him?", I said "Awesome! Mmmmmm let's see", Mikey said, getting on the floor and looking at the bunny as it sniffed his face and climbed on to the back of his shell Mikey looked to be in deep thought of trying to think of a name, tapping his fingers on the hardwood floor, as the rabbit jumped down from him and sniffed his face. The glow of the white moon came in through the window as it made the whole room shine white casting a shadow on everything. "Hey I got it!", Mikey said, snapping his fingers "What?", I asked "How about Usagi?", he asked, looking up at me "Usagi? What does that mean? Is it Chinese or something?", I asked, curiously "It means rabbit of the moon in Japanese", he said, pointing towards the window "And since the moon is out and its casting out on him" I looked out the window briefly seeing the moon, then looked back down at the rabbit. "Usagi, I love it!", I said "Usagi it is!" "Yes!", Mikey said, doing a fist bump Now the known rabbit named Usagi went hoping towards Mikey as he carefully picked him up and scratched the back of his ears as Usagi licked the side of his wrist. "Woah that feels weird", he said, watching him "Awwwwww how cute, he has complete trust in you, he loves you", I said Mikey smiled up at me and he began to pet Usagi more smiling, as Usagi enjoyed the affection by laying on his chest. I just smiled. You know I haven't smiled this much in ten years and it was all because of this guy. Mikey seemed to be healing my wounds and broken spirit not like anyone else could. I don't know why out of all people I have been with or seen, that this out of the ordinary person, a stranger of the outside world could make such a difference in me. Maybe this was a sign, a beacon of hope, that maybe I was suppose to meet him and that he was the one to help me bring out of my sad and depressing life. Maybe he is the friend that I have been finally waiting for.

[thatgirlwhoworksforwhatshew-blog]

tarak,

lets not beat around the bush, i miss you. like alot.

im not even going to get into what are the things that keep reminding me of th time we had, because thatd be me listing out my every minute of the day. yes, there are times when i remember you not for the good-reasons, but mostly i end up wanting to think of you instead of living in such a denial of ‘im over you’.

i know you must be going through alot, im not trying to compare us here, on who is feeling it more deeply, quality and quantity- how much ever of a utilitarian i claim to be, i want to be stupidly selfish enough to say i feel it hit me very hard. especially when i see people around me claim their relationships to be like the epitome of perfection and love, i just cant help but think of the beautiful masterpiece we could have made together. 

they say ‘chaos brings art’., that, time will tell. until then, ill just sit around and feel things like how its supposed to be.

i hope its not that hard on you.whom am i kidding, how much ever i convince myself that you will get over me, by pouring alot of ‘hate’ like how your friends wanted you to, im still silly enough to hope that you wouldnt be that harsh on me. gosh, this is never going to happen is it? im only going to die in dissapointment of letting things go this far, and getting nothing in return(when i now have the chance) or do i?

i know you, i know the charm, i know how you effect people, and how much ever stupid and goofy you get around me, i know what you are- or atleast i knew. why did we let things go this recklessly? i was immature, but why dint we sort things out then and there. gosh, i just cant look at the word jodhpur without a little guilt., i cannot look at any word starting with a T, and has both R and K. 

do you have any idea how many songs have the word tara, taraka, in them? its like some stupid prank someone is pulling on me. my mom also began to ask me how youre doing, she out of everyone, made an assumption that my mood is practically proportional to my time on my phone and phone calls, which basically is only with you. so she goes like “oh, tarak dint call today” after few days, she began to wonder if things were fine with you, and i burst out angrily, that ‘you should be fine because youre avoiding me’. please be true! anyway, i dont care where this questioning is coming from, but i reasoned out how this equation of my good moods being equated with our calls, was a little irring in the beginning, because i dont think i need some ONE person to keep me happy. it was a troubling thought which i used to hold a grudge on myself for depending on you for what ever greedy reasons. but i began to realise how first, that wasnt the case. i wsnt greedy on this reason, i was just looking for a support and a person to share my happiness with. i was greedy maybe when it came to things like, eventhough i knew it was hard for you, i was still there poking things and making it harder for you. TO THE EXTENT THAT YOU NOW BLOCKED ME. WOW. im not blaming you, maybe you did the right thing. maybe if you dint do that, we could have pulled each others hair out in this menace. but did we really do the right thing if i am feeling this way right now? whats the point tarak?

its 10:10 right now. wow. 

honestly, there are times when i thank myself for this space, because i really enjoy doing things for myself, but by the end of the day, i really hoped that youd call or email, so that i could tell you about all the amazing things i read, watched, discovered and i desperately want to share them with you, but i cant!

i got back to my bubble, my day basically revolves around reading and arranging my library. i still hold heidi close to myself when i sleep every night. i really regret not finishing it for you. but i dont know how much meaning she hold to you anyway. shes my world, she is the first thing i was obsessed with, and i thought she’d bring you similar joy, but now we never know i guess.

ive been doing philosophy for NET, although i havent started in serious mode, illl get there soon. i applied for an internship navdhanya, and have made plans of what to do with life., quite roughly. i even made a bucket list, of things i should try, filled with things that fascinate me. sample, fireflies. i never saw them in real life. and now i feel bad just by that thought. but yeah, i was pretty serious wheni made that list, and i keep adding things into it every now and then. i dont know why i mentioned this now, but i felt like it. ohh, since im updating about life, i should mention how i spoke to dad(basically, a mail) about most of the things i could never say to him, mostly stressing on how now i should be left unbothered. 

since i couldnt give rockstar another chance, sorry boss, the thought of having to go through that actress’ bad acting for three hours was itself torturous., i found the screenplay/script of the movie., and let me tell you how good i felt after reading it. i had better actors in my mind, and i dreamt about it for a couple of nights. it was a rollercoaster. i think screenplays do that to you. its like reading the book instead of watching the movie, but rockstar has to do with the songs, and since i had a clue about them, i can justify now. and i think i understand you better now, but i dont know, my timing of watching the movie is like another satire. not just this one, many more. gosh, i have like an entire saga of things i could use to cry over to. the other day, i cried while reading tagore poetry, although that was a worthy reason, its crazy how i dont know what little thing could be a trigger.

but how much ever i might try to romanticize all of this, tarak, i really think apart from the happy and goofy times we spent, which dont actually matter as much if we look back(except for nostagia purposes) id say we both needed a better versions, and both of us seperately too needed to be honest with what we are.. not just in showing the other person. im talking about myself mostly. and, for what ever we had, id hate to call it, but because of the lack of a better word, lets admit, we were toxic. and i have to say, how much ever you tried to get over your ego and wanted to be a feminist, looking back at minute details of the interactions we had, plus from the ones you talk about to others, i realised how often there were times when you basically preached something and failed to follow. im slightly ashamed to admit this, but i have gone through a phase of man-hating when i realised the things i have seen around,  thats basically when i realised how these could be the things you failed to see, (and prolly reasoned out for good enough reasons) but somewhere deep inside, i know its not so.like i read it in some book, (which bt the way, i should say felt like i was reading line by line about you) because it talks about how men who seem woke, but still choose to do the same thing, although for different reasons(or so they claim) is another result of the system. and i just cringed at this thought. because im sorry, but i felt it multiple times in our stay together. 

tarak, honestly how much ever im loving reading and researching, im afraid im getting very theoretical. now i cannot stop myself from pin pointing mistakes in everything, and am clearly missing out the beauty in things. if i learned one thing, love is for people who want to give up reason. if you are too calculated and stubborn, you can never love. im not saying im getting calculated and all brains-no-heart, but im slanting that way, and im just afraid i might never find redemption because i like this more. id choose this over love. for now. im sure time will prove me different, but let me tell you how much i value reading and art.

i guess we never spoke about this, why did we not? 

you know the whole ‘books are my bestfriends’? this is literally my life summarized. in my entire time at indus, i basically spent most of the time in the library, or in the washroom- where i used to sneak in, to bunk science classes. i had a reading tree also. under which i used to read in the sports period. prajeeth was a science guy, and the labs were right opposite to the library, so he used to keep a check on me, i often got late to catch my evening bus, so he’d make sure i dint. not to forget the music room. that was another room i spent some quality time in. while the library was in the first floor of the new building, the music room was in a circular room, on the terranc. the whole terrace was for music and art. we had a lot of empty open area where we were given assignments in. i love that place. id want to take you there one day, if, you know... 

so as i was saying, i just prefer reading and listening over anything. at this point, it feels like i know nothing apart from these both. i know you wouldnt agree with me being a good listener, but i know me, and i know im good.

well, now about us, i dont know. i really dont. i may say id be happy if you move on, and find yourself a woman, but i dont know if i can say it at this point, when im clearly meaning it. so, i can only hope for you to become a stronger person, collecting yourself from all of the past. and if you’re moving on, good for you., but id like to take my own sweet time with my memories of you,us, and laugh cry cringe all at once slowly. im not sating im attempting to get over you, because somehow that is making me think about you even more, and its actually making me want you for a whole different list of reasons. ill stick to this natural flow, and ill see you when i see you, years from now, or maybe more. somehow in the midst of some really stupid portions, there are some things you set a high limit in, for men to fill in- who might enter my life. so its going to be a big deal if i commit to someone tarak, and id still want to share about it with you, i dont know if that comes out from mere friendship or more, but i dont mind either ways.

i want to say this one last thing, because ive been wanting to say it for a long time, after the phone call.

it might be years later that we meet,and finally talk, when ever it is, how ever long it has been, if you turned out a good man, not just rational and responsible but realist and a romantic., id love for me to fall for you all over again, or maybe fall correctly* this time, until then ill wait.

 i want to wait. 

that’s me. there are surely many more things i want to say, but i will wait, like i said, and its not like youre going to read this, so its fine. ill look forward for what is coming, i hope you are healthy and are fine (at the least). i miss akbar, i hope aunty is not having a hard time seeing you break down anymore, i hope thats not the case, dont cry tarak! did you stop smoking? i was thinking about it on the 26th, i hope youre sticking to your resolution. i miss the smell of it, i sometimes open my specs-case to smell it, and it reminds me alot of you and red rum. its amazing. i miss it all, i miss you guys alot, i miss you babu. take care. 

xo

raaga.

[tgr489]

30 things...

So I’ve thought about this somewhat and trawled a few sites to see if I’m ahead of the curve on things and below are a few lists that the web throws up. Have added some helpful colour coding as to what I’ve done, not done, or have got part way there. Enjoy…

 Here is your Bucket List: 30 Things to Do Before You Turn 30:

1. Travel somewhere you don’t know the language. 

Going somewhere you can’t easily communicate with other people is terrifying. But not only would it enlighten you and make you savvy to another culture, it would also force you to really learn the language — something we’re rarely forced to do. 

I’d say the majority of places I’ve travelled to, and around, I’ve not known the language, initially. If you’re staying anywhere for anything longer than a few weeks then you need to pick up some local basics, it’s just plain rude otherwise, general pleasantries and basic ordering of sustenance will go a long way to not annoying the fuck out of the person your conversing with. Us westerners can score damn high on the annoyance scale, and I’ve seen the shout loud and slow enough to know the stereotype is true. I know enough to not be without food, beverages and substances in any country that speaks in Spanish (LatAm), French, Dutch, Thai, Malaysian. 

2. Date someone who isn’t your “type”.

You will learn and grow from being around people who are different from you. Maybe the relationship won’t work out in the end or maybe you’ll meet your future spouse. At any rate, you’ll either have a great time or a terrible time, but you will learn from the experience.

I don’t really have type of girl I go for, or I do but I’m less conscious of it and don’t single it out. I lived with this guy back in London who was obsessed by girls with big boobs and would always seek them out whenever we were out, but when it came down to it his obsession for him tongue tied which prevented him from actually getting together with anyone which fit the bill. Such a shame for him 

3. Start your 401(k).

Retirement might be a blip on the map but it will be here before you know it. Do yourself a favour and start saving now. Especially if your company offers matching. Grow money, grow!

This is true. To be smug and somewhat boring I’ve had a pension/super/old age fund since I was 18. That’s what happens when you’re surrounded by family involved with money, and how to grow it and more importantly, protect it. Start early enough and it’ll hopefully be big enough to keep the party going well into your 90s.

4. Take a risk: Go bungee jumping or skydiving or swim with sharks. 

I’m talking to you non-adrenaline junkies and typical stay-at-homers. Get outside, put yourself in the hands of trained professionals, and experience that exhilarating feeling of being this close to staring death in the face.

5. Start investing.

This is a risk in itself. Learn enough to invest some money or have someone else do it for you. No risk, no reward. 

This kinda goes hand in hand with 3.

6. Form your political opinion.

We live in a politically turbulent time. It’s up to us to educate ourselves and advocate for what we believe in. Many people shy away from political discussions but by having them, you’ll come out with new, more well-rounded knowledge and, hopefully, will get to know your own opinions better.

Politics are bullshit. I’ll say no more.

7. Stop holding grudges. 

Past grievances are overrated. You don’t need negativity in your life and you definitely don’t need it over something that happened years ago. If you need to, unfollow of block the involved parties on social media. Don’t “hate follow” someone just for the heck of it. A grudge only affects the person holding it.

8. Start a collection. 

Something fun, quirky and totally you. Be passionate about it but don’t be a hoarder! My collectable of choice is mugs. They take up a lot of space, but they are something I use daily and always bring back memories from places I’ve visited.

This is a bit weird. Reminds me of one of my school friends’ grand parents who had this thing for tea plates. They started out as mere decoration in the kitchen but slowly spread into the dinning room and then hallway in a bid to conquer the house. I do have collections of sorts, things like sneakers and cameras, but I consider these to be practical as I live in one and use the others a lot.

9. Take a cross-country road trip. 

Particularly if you are in the United States. You’ll get to experience many different nuances of the country and you can support local mom-and-pop businesses. Pro-tip: avoid the highways for the best scenery.

Did a US road trip last year with Elise when I moved to Cali, and have done a few in Europe and Australia.

10. Pay off your credit card debt. 

No one wants this to begin with, but you have a chance to start off your thirties with a clean financial slate if you play your cards right (or in this case, not at all). Debt can not only be financially devastating for building the future you dream of, but it can also be tough on your confidence.

I hardly ever use my credit cards but when I do I pay the balance every month.

11. Go see live music you love. 

There’s something so special about seeing your favourite artists live. They aren’t going to be on tour forever, so buy the tickets and make the drive. You won’t regret seeing them live.

I see live music a few times every month

12. Set an annual reading goal. 

I could bore you with the list of benefits of reading, but I won’t (but if you’re curious, we’ve got some right here). Go make yourself a Goodreads account and set yourself a reading goal to accomplish each year.

I think I read a lot already, as in I’ve always got one or two books on the go. Sometimes I read prolifically, other times maybe a couple of pages a week. I think setting a target would put too much pressure on me.

13. Overcome a fear. 

Sometimes your fears hold you back, but don’t let them. Take steps to overcome your fear of public speaking or heights. Once you know you what you are capable of, anything is possible.

The only fear I’m really conscious of is growing old, so overcoming that will I guess happen in time, not something that’ll happen in the next week. I’m sure everyone has this fear at some point because no one really wants to be frail, piss stinking and relying on everyone else to do shit for you. 

14. Get a tattoo. 

Permanence is scary, so make sure it’s something that really represents who you are at this point in your life, particularly if you’re prone to regret. Make up your mind, do your research and go for it. If tattoos aren’t your thing, there’s always fake tattoos you can wear for a few days or a piercing you’ve always liked that you can eventually remove. Check out our Guide to Surviving Your First Tattoo!

Have 4, maybe time for another. Designing that tat for Lily did have me thinking about it for a short while.

15. Join a club. 

And I don’t mean the list of resume-fluffing ones you joined in high school and college. I mean ones that you are really interested in and passionate about.  For example, try and join a running club or a book club. Maybe you’re into intramural volleyball or something else entirely. Either way it’s a fun way to meet new people and spend some time on a hobby!

16. Treat yourself to something really expensive. 

…and pay for it in cash. Whether it’s a trip of a lifetime, a new computer, a Chanel handbag or a weekend away at an upscale resort and spa, you totally deserve it for working hard. If you don’t have the cash now, start saving! Make yourself a savings account called “Treat Myself” and transfer $20 a pay-check until you have enough.

What’s really expensive? 4, 5, or 6 digits, or even 7? This is a relative thing but using the writers theory above would see someone waiting a while to buy anything. Does Vera Visa come out to play and then pay it off by the time you retire? I used to obsess over having a Rolex, a Traveller model to be exact. They’re vintage and not flashy in any way, have no diamonds and they’re not gold, just stainless steel with a coloured green face. Simple and elegant. At that time they were around $20k, would be nice to walk into a shop and lay that wad down. But I do actually have a small collection of watches already, to go along with 8 above, that I never wear, primarily because we are surrounded by clocks and second I can never be bothered to go to the jewellery store to get the batteries changed when they die. So I used to just move on to the next one. Without looking I think I have about 7 G-Shocks, an Ebel, a Storm and a Seiko. The last one is special because it was my fathers and the only thing I wanted when he died, because he was wearing it at the time.Maybe I should look at that Rolex again, or look into some more art.

17.  Be the first person to apologise.

It’s hard to admit when you are wrong. But it’s usually for the greater good. Saying “I’m sorry” is something we learn as children but don’t often implement as adults. Apologise when you’re in the wrong.

18. Run a marathon. 

Pushing yourself physically is not only good for your body but good for your mind. And plus, you’ll feel really awesome with your medal. We’re capable of far more than we think we are — and this is your chance to prove it to yourself!

Not enough time to train for this, but I’ve flirted with the idea, although I have reservations about putting my body through such torture. I know 2 people that have run one and they both say never agin. I guess it’s an epic accomplishment but there are far more things to achieve than seeing whether you can continually run for 26 miles. Climb a mountain is far better especially if you can board down it after!

19.  Forgive yourself for mistakes.

Realising you made a huge mistake by passing over an amazing job offer might seem like the end of the world, but it’s not. Forgive yourself and move on. This goes along with letting go of grudges–don’t hold them against yourself.

This is so true. I beat myself up at the start of the year thinking I’d made a big mistake moving to LA only to be leaving after a few months, and I still kind of hang on to it a bit. I think I feel more pain for the girl I unceremoniously dumped to pursue that dream, even though she’s OK with it now (we are on talking terms and see each other around every now and then).

20.  Learn how to cook.

I’m not saying you should aspire to be Ina Garten; just learn how to make a few fancy dishes for one of those special occasions. They might come in handy sooner than you think. Knowing how to make risotto is a great recipe to always have in your back pocket. It’s easy one you know the steps and can be made in any variation based on the ingredients you have on hand.

I think by the time anyone reaches 30 they know how to cook, if not they must still live at home a la Norman Bates. This is one thing I really love doing, as I use it to de-stress, and the more people I have to cook for the more satisfactory the experience.

21. Eat really expensive food. 

Treat yourself (and maybe your significant other) to a meal at one of the world’s top restaurants. Find out what all of the fuss is about and indulge in food made by someone who invented the cooking method.

I agree. When you go to an expensive restaurant and the food is fantastic with unnoticeable service it’s something to behold. Thing is not everyone like to go out a blow several hundred $ on a meal, no matter how good it may be. Don’t get me wrong I don’t dine out 5* often but I do for those special occasions.

22. Pay it forward. 

Ever had someone help you out when you didn’t ask for it? Even if you haven’t, you can still start a chain of positive events by paying for someone’s coffee or helping them change a flat tire. Positive momentum is a powerful thing, people!

I’ll attribute this to Karma, which I’m a big believer in, help as many people as you can through life and it will pay you back in spades when you need it. Even if it doesn’t, or you don’t believe it does, being kind and helping people is the thing we need to do more of as a species. A story - About 18 months ago I went out for a relatively expensive meal with Elise, which I’d booked because I wanted to impress her, there was a tramp walking towards us as we were making our way home. As we got closer I could feel Elise tighten up as she knew as well as I that he was gonna tap us for some change. As he closed in on us I could see that he wasn’t much older than us, but was obviously freezing cold, it was December after all. I had this sudden feeling that I had to help him, it was cold and I was going home to a warm apartment and comfy bed, he was gonna be sleeping where? I took out my wallet and gave him all the notes I had left, about $100 and told him to find somewhere to get warm. As we walked away Elise was annoyed that I’d given him the money saying that he’ll just spend it on drugs and drink. I hoist told her that may be the case but that’s a reflection of his character rather than mine and I helped him as best I could at that moment in time and I can’t be responsible for him beyond that. She didn’t buy it and just said I’d wasted my money.

23. Attempt to break a world record. 

In the Guinness Book of World Records, of course. There are records for everything, so round up your friends and give it your best shot. Even if you don’t quite break a record, it’s still a pretty cool memory to have.

Can I be the first person to OD on weed? That would be a world record for sheer quantity consumed.

24. Attend the Olympic Games.

Whether it’s Winter or Summer, you’ll never regret being in the presence of the world’s elite athletes and having the opportunity to watch history in the making.

I think if I was in a city when this was on I’d go, but I’m not gonna travel to one specifically for the event 

25. Pick a cause and be passionate about it.

Whether it’s cancer research or clean water, donate and make efforts to help others and advance your cause. Don’t just say you’re interested in a cause, go live it and be it — volunteer your time, fundraise or donate. Change doesn’t happen by sitting at home on your couch.

How to pick a cause when there are so many that need help. I’ve volunteered occasionally in the past and it has been good fun but I’ve never tramped off to some remote location to dig wells or anything like that. One of my friends work for Operation Raleigh and always says how much he loves his job, but whilst he works for a worthwhile organisation he does receive a salary so it’s kind of cheating. I will make this a goal to do  more of especially as the planet is on the brink and stuff needs to be done about it.

26. Make your family tree. 

There is no history more interesting than your own–figure out who your ancestors were and how they impacted the world and your own life. What you find out might surprise you. Take it a step further and record your family’s complete medical history. This will not only come in handy for you, but for future generations are well.

I’m not sure I need to know who my ancestors were, it won’t serve any purpose, unless I’m in line to throne and near the top of the list, but I doubt that very much. What I know about  my family is that both my paternal grandparents died before I was born, he was a doctor and she was a housewife. My maternal grandparents were never together, he bailed as soon as he became a father and she eventually turned into an alcoholic so my mother never spoke to her. Both my parents were only children so there’s no expansive collection of relatives for me. However, I do have 2 half brothers from my dad’s first marriage, but they’re much older than me and they openly dislike me and always have. I’m kinda glad I never see them any more because they are a right pair of wankers. Their dislike of me turned to hatred when my dad left me pretty much everything in his will, but that wasn’t my doing so not my fault. I wonder if it still bugs them or whether thy employed number 7 above.

27. See a Broadway play. 

Or a Cirque show or Blue Man Group.  Put on your best dress or your tux and live it up.

Everyone should go to the theatre more, and I’ll put myself in this camp. I do go a see shows when there’s a story that sounds captivating or an actor I really wanna see, but I don’t go enough. Time to change up.

28. Work a menial job. 

A job where you know you won’t advance but also requires tipping. You’ll gain a better appreciation for people you come across in your future who count tips as the largest part of their salary. If this doesn’t fit into your career plan, try picking up a second job around the holidays — you’ll appreciate the extra income and you’ll gain some eye-opening experience for those who work for minimum wage full time.

I have done so many of these it’s laughable. Packing pineapples, cleaning windows, waiting tables, sorting trash in a recycling centre to name a few. All of these jobs were essential at the time to make money to live and in some of them I met the best people, really down to earth types just trying to make ends meet.

29. Become a connoisseur in something. 

Whether it’s cheese, wine, tea or coffee, your garnered knowledge will always help you make small talk but also enrich your life in ways you haven’t even imagined.

I am a connoisseur of weed and whiskey amongst many other things but they would be my faves.

30. And finally, make a list of 40 Things to do Before You Turn 40.

If only because it’s fun!

I guess I have time to do this so I’ll start it at some point.

Here’s another list I found with a few differences but has the same general theme 

1. Take care of my body 

I think I do this, but I smoke too much weed and probably drink to much, because I binge, so I know I can do better. I do ride my push bike pretty much everywhere, even when I’ve had a few, which is bad and not really taking care of my life. But don’t ride when it’s raining because the odds of accident are increased, then I walk, even if I have to get uptown.

2. Visit Amsterdam 

Yep, everyone should

3. Aprender Español (Learn Spanish) 

4. Take a creative _____ class 

Have started my sewing group thing. The first results are disappointing but I will fulfil my obligation and post a photo of the pouch I made, much to my shame. 

5. Publish an eBook 

These entries are kind of an eBook. My shrink thinks my back story is fairly interesting and sometimes entertaining so I’ll put some of it up as the need arises to provide perspective.

6. Go on a road trip in Europe 

7. Make a cheesecake for the first time 

Yes everyone should try this, then go buy one that is actually any decent, because I’ve never known of anyone to make a great one first time

8. Host a dinner party 

9. Send a postcard from every trip I take 

This is actually a good idea which I do not do any more. I keep postcards around forever. You generally know when someone is away because it’s all over FB or Insta, but postcards are a surprise and a tangible thing that a friend will hold in their hands and possibly stick up somewhere as a reminder of you.

10.  Plant a tree 

11. Have a morning routine 

What defines a routine? I pretty much do the same thing every morning before I leave the apartment, with the odd exception of when I can be bothered to box up any food left over from a previous dinner, I get up, make a coffee, if there’s none, drink coffee whilst staring out of the window and casually looking at newsfeed, chat with anyone who’s around, shower, brush teeth, get dressed, pack bag, go. If the journey to work is included in a routine’ I don’t think I want one. I like mixing up my ride to work along different routes and with some stops along the way for breakfast and more coffee. Isn’t variety the spice of life?

12. Turn off the internet’ 

This is definitely something I need to do. Those days away on the ayahuasca where I had to surrender my phone were amazing, once I’d gotten over the initial shock. But for me that fear was more about the lack of a music player over not being connected to the web. Even when those things are in your pocket they are a distraction, and being without that device really connected me with those around me. 

13. Learn the art of cocktail making 

If you can’t mix some simple cocktails by the time you’ve hit 30 you simply haven’t lived. Surely everyone had a favourite or more, and when you do you learn how to make them, no?

14. Jump more often (and get better at it) 

I have no idea what the fuck this one is about. Jump where? Off, on, out, into anything? 

15. Take a spontaneous trip 

16. See more live music & concerts 

17. Attend more unusual & creative performances 

Does nude neon life drawing count?

18. Read___ 

19. Decorate my bedroom 

20. Try a fast/meditate

21. Write more often in a journal 

That is what this is supposed to be but I think I’m not writing enough, or maybe too much but not enough entries…

22. Explore my own city 

23. Practice photography skills 

24. Take weekends off 

25. Use my hands more often 

Have you ever tried not using your hands as much. Once, after trying to brush my teeth using my feet I realised everything else was going to be impossible so I went back to bed.

26. Buy more souvenirs (for myself and others) 

No No no. No one needs souvenirs. They are tat junk that fill up peoples lives with utter shit. They are generally plastic and will almost certainly end up getting trashed and going to landfill or for incineration.

27. Read more news (but don’t get stuck in it) 

28. Take a trip to visit someone I know 

29. Give a talk or presentation 

I present concepts and tell stories all the time, it’s my job

30. Do 30 days of something! 

I did lent, wahey!

And this is a list I found targeted for the girls

1. Travel solo. 

We cannot stress how valuable this is, even if you're in a relationship. 

2. Take a class to learn a new skill. 

Doesn't matter if it's pottery or pole dancing. 

3. Master cooking at least three dishes. 

And mixing three cocktails. (Without needing to panic-Google the recipe.) 

4. Run a half marathon. 

Or just walk it. Either way, sign up. 

This is a bit more like it, a half is easy

5. Go skinny dipping. 

Do this often. 

6. Learn to speak another language. 

7. Learn how to read a wine list. 

And seriously impress your friends and future suitors forevermore. 

8. Throw yourself a birthday party. 

Because, if you want something done right... 

9. Get private health insurance. 

Because if you don't have hospital cover by 31, you'll pay a loading fee once you finally do get your sh*t together and sign up. 

10. Get your super in check. 

Snoozy, but it's important to consolidate and start making contributions. (Future You will thank you.) 

11. Invest in a good quality bag. 

You carry it every day, so why not? 

Does good quality equal expensive? I treated myself to a lovely smart mulberry satchel bag once in a bid to look a little more professional. Was good until the strap broke whilst I was riding to work one morning and the contents ended up strewn across Madison Ave, with my laptop broken beyond repair. After much arguing Mulberry actually replaced the laptop so the outcome was favourable, but it took months. Now I just use my heavy duty Burton backpack. Has a life time guarantee against wear and tear so this is ideal. Plus as a guy I don’t need a bag as an accessory. The girls I live with have far too many bags, by their own admission, and spending a couple of g’s on something that won’t even fit a laptop seems rather a waste of cash to me. 

12. Take a grown up weekend away with friends. 

Even if you end up getting wasted on the wine supply.

13. Go camping. 

Not glamping, either. We mean legit, set-up-your-tent-yourself-and-suffer-through-the-mozzies camping.

14. Learn to meditate. 

And "namaste" your way to a better life.

15. Learn about politics. 

You should know the difference between the Senate and a socialist.

16. Take a road trip.

Whether solo, with bae, or your best m8s.

17. Pay off your credit card/personal loan/HECs debt. 

The feeling will be priceless.

18. Treat yourself to a fancy dining experience. 

As a reward for 17.

19. Volunteer for a cause you believe in. 

Not just as a one-off, either—make it a regular thing.

20. Live abroad. 

If only for the hot foreign strangers.

21. Cross off some of the classics. 

Add Charlotte and Emily Brontë, Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Maya Angelou, Joan Didion and Anais Nin to your reading list, stat.

22. Take control of your sexual health. 

Which means finding the right birth control for you, and making time for regular STD checks, among other things.

23. Do something that scares you. 

Swimming with sharks, skydiving, even just going to the top of a really tall building if heights freak you out.

24. Ask for a pay rise. 

Even if it falls into the above category. Actually, especially if it falls into the above category.

25. Have savings. 

Because having financial freedom is so, so important. (Also money can buy you fun things like holidays and cars and doggos.)

26. Find a mentor. 

If you don't have one in your workplace, reach out to someone in your industry via LinkedIn and see if they'd be open to you shouting them a coffee.

27. Start and finish an educational course. 

Whether it's finally finishing your uni degree, or upskilling yourself in something like coding.

28. Find your 'thing' in exercise. And do it regularly.

29. Be able to ask for what you want in bed. 

Yes, even that.

What is ‘that’ ladies?

30. Start taking your health seriously. Because if you don't, who will?

On the whole the lists show that you need to be taking more control of your life and know what the fuck you’re doing. You should be getting more experiences in your life with some spontaneity added for good measure. I consider myself lucky enough to have achieved more than most, but I don’t want to brag about it. I could’ve sat back, done very little and still been comfortable, but the world is a wonderful place and the people on it can be even better and removing yourself from the comfort zone enables you to be more accepting of everything. I did expect to see lists of some pretty wacky far out shit, which I’m sure everyone has a bit off in their lives, but I suppose turning 30 is meant to mean starting to put the more foolish things behind you. I agree with it a little but I still want to be doing the things I’ve done in my 20s well into my 40s. Call me sad for not wanting to grow up but it’s true, I don’t so I will cling on to as much as possible for as long as I can. Will be making my 40 before 40 list over the next few months but I have plenty of time to write and fulfil.

My birthday is now less than a week away and I’m now starting to review my annual resolutions, which have panned out somewhat different to how I envisioned.

Enjoy the week peeps.

[lethe-distillery-blog]

Revelations Part Four, The Finale

I dropped the arrowhead to my chest with a solid impact from where it nestled there hanging from its leather thong. I silently berated myself for my fascination with the object. It must be morbid curiosity on end, the thing had very nearly killed me after all. Between it, the fever that I had powered through, and the chance of infection I had, and likely would have died. If it hadn't been for my very hot, broody, sex on a stick nurse. Kreischen honestly was a bit hovering; I don't think he slept much, if at all, though that was hard for me to tell since I slept so much in comparison I kept waking to find him in the leather chair he had set up beside his bed. Not exactly the way I had wanted to be in his bed the first time, but hey, if a girl's got to die to spend time in a sex god's bed, who was I to argue?

I looked to the tray he had brought, apple juice, gah, thine name is torture. Still though, I needed to keep fluids down, I had tried a piece of toast and I had nearly lapsed back into a cycle of coma-like sleep patterns as my body tried desperately to digest it. Still though, I was getting tired of apples. Apple juice, apple sauce, hell if my first solid food was going to be an apple. Fuck. That.

I sipped at the apple juice, trying to use my right arm despite the firing pain that ricocheted up from the fingertips to cumulate on my shoulder. Fuck. I clenched my teeth. It hurt. Kreischen walked in, sympathy on his features but he didn't stop me, sensing my absolute resolve I suppose that would force me to keep trying, trying to get better. I slowly closed my fingers around the cold glass in a loose grip, taking a sort of twisted pleasure from the pain it caused. I was alive. Fucked if I knew how but at this point I would be content with just being alive. Kreischen looked a lot better than he had, well, fine. His clothes were less rumpled, but I knew that that was surface cosmetics, his jaw still held the scrumptious traces of whiskers, his eyes still were a dull jade and he still moved with that slow assured way as though he had to plan out each movement before he carried it out.

He took my left hand in his for a moment and squeezed, nothing more than what could politely be called a twitch, but I knew better. It was the silent way he spoke volumes of his worry for me, it was the way he would take the focus off of me for just a moment, to provide some relief from the glaring spotlight. I don't know if he consciously did any of that, but what I did know, was that he squeezed three times and smiled ever so subtly when I returned it thricely.

"How are you feeling Sunshine?" I smiled as he used his endearment.

"Weak, and annoyed at myself for it." I answered honestly, there was no point to lying to someone that seemed to read me as easily as an open book. Bianca had come by a few times to check up on me, which spoke volumes as to what she thought of me, and how dire it had been. Sloth creatures tend to have a very live and let live attitude, they don't grasp the urgency of matters well. Still though, she had visited, and that nagging feeling like I was constantly alone had abated just a bit more. Even more when Kreischen cuddled with me in bed, the feeling of finding him there when I woke up was something I hated that I was getting used to.

He nodded slowly and watched the way my whole arm shook violently from the effort of my lifting the glass of juice. "I told Otis' little birds that you would be missing some class, Bianca said she'd let Dorris know." I nodded, the fact that I was missing work and school had completely slipped my thoughts and I berated myself again. I should have thought of that, I should have told them, I should have-. "Hey." He lifted my chin, "you didn't need to do anything. We've got you." He was perfect. And our lips met, mine, rough, cracked from the last week's fun adventure and tasting of apples. Him. His soft, gentle, tasting sinfully like coffee and tobacco.

I felt so inadequate, and yet, so empowered. The way he caught his fingers in my hair, tangling them in the strands as he held me tenderly. The way he let in a long shaky breath and pressed his forehead to mine. I knew what he wanted, I knew that I wanted it too and gods I wished he would just touch me already. He pulled away, and on a desperate whim I clutched his shirt in a fist and looked up into startled green orbs. "Please." I licked my lips, feeling awkward and out of place, but I needed him. I needed him to stop treating me like I was fragile. "Make me feel alive." I held my breath at the internal struggle within him. If he refused, I didn't think I would survive it. I opened my mouth to beg, to plead, and he kissed me, hard; the power of him was overwhelming, the naked desire there evident from the hard bulge in his slacks. Fuck. Yes.

That experience had been healing, necessary, and yet to my chagrin, we grew even closer. It had led us through so many things as a couple, long nights spent doing nothing more than cuddling and watching awful movies on his big screen. My most recent favorites were the old power rangers, awful, yet still entertaining. And my first solid food had not been apples! Small victories helped the days that slowly transformed into a month more worthwhile. The worst of my injury was over, and still, I was here. And even stranger than his not bringing it up, was my unwilling to mention it to him. It was like I was living a secret, that I wanted to be here so badly and yet I was terrified that if I brought it up, even joking, I would be relegated back to my apartment. Sure Bianca was there, but, it wasn't the same, it couldn't be. Waking up next to Kreischen was, wonderful.

"Up," I moved slowly, my arm protesting, but still I grit my teeth and forced myself to stretch, to move. The sword felt like it weighed thirty pounds or more as I tried to move it, with agonizing slowness to block a lunge that Kreischen brought towards me. My natural instincts were there, honed razor sharp, it was just my body that felt unwilling. I was wondering if this is what growing old felt like, scary thought that. I deflected the movement and saw Kreischen nod in approval. We had only been in his gym for twenty minutes and I was already soaked through with sweat, I felt awful, cold and clammy, but still I pushed myself. I needed to get back up, I needed to be better than this. "Down," I hissed in pain and saw his eyes flicker towards me but I shook my head as I moved to block a blow by his blade.

He was a good teacher if only an amateur sword master. Still, it got me moving, and in practice, more than my yoga and pilates could manage by themselves. And it was together time. He had started working from home on his laptop, though he had to go into the office occasionally. He had shown me the sketch, though I wasn't supposed to breathe a word of that to anyone, on a beautiful bridge he was designing for in Dubai. It had been art. Doris, bless her had let me come back to work the occasional shift but she mothered me nearly as badly as Kreischen and called my, "nice young man," if I pushed myself too hard for her liking. I smiled at the thought before something else came to mind. "Did you tell Otis that I should be able to come to classes next week?"

"Yeah, I made sure his little birdies let him know."

I laughed, it felt good though it jarred my arm terribly. beauty through the pain and all that I supposed. "Here I thought it was only him that said that." Kreischen raised an eyebrow as he moved in a slow lunge. "The fact that he talks to his little birdies, I thought it was just an odd quirk about him." The look he gave me said that I was dense but I had no clue about what. "He is really an interesting guy, Tigg too." I had very nearly said human, but since my Kreischen was human, I highly doubted he would enjoy being called something like he was an alien species. I honestly missed the couple, they had been nearly stand in replacements for parents, Doris too. This little fiasco had done wonders in showing me that I wasn't nearly as alone as I thought I had been. And Kreischen, I felt like some romantic teen calling him perfect repeatedly but he really was. Perfect in that imperfect way men are and yet we love them anyways. Scary thing that. Love.

I improved, it felt like an agonizing slowness at first, but by the end of the week I was nearly back up to full speed. It was still hard, and I got winded quickly, and my shoulder ached. But, little steps. Little steps. I had to keep reminding myself of that. But fuck. It was irritating to have such an amateur beat me, even if that was growing rarer. I had actually asked him why he had the swords, he had simply smiled and asked why I knew how to use them. Touche. I still had yet to tell him where I had gotten the arrow wound, I didn't lie, I just, avoided it. Thankfully he didn't press. I would have hated lying to him, but how was I supposed to explain to him that I was a half demon, half human. I had already opened up about my mother and felt utterly worthless as I had cried myself sick as he held me. Stupid emotions. Always got in the way of doing things properly. Still though, it had been nice to get it out and in the open with someone.

Kreischen had started improving too, though he had kept the stubble after I said I liked it. His eyes were returning back to their emerald hue and it still took my breath away the manner in which they caught the light. We had done nearly everything together; gone on dates to places where they had more servings that I typically would spend on a meal and in some ways I had been glad to never know the bill. We had gone on these really romantic walks by the river, and he hadn't even minded when I told him how ancient civilizations always were built near a water source. That's why most ancient cities were found near a river. In fact, he seemed to even enjoy my telling him. The more we talked, the more we just were. The less angry I felt. It was strange, as though some part of me was simply withering away. Some poison that I was finally ejecting from myself. It felt, good. We also went for ice cream, he liked that god awful vanilla and seemed to find it immensely amusing that I enjoyed chocolate. And we did other, more intimate things. I found that I enjoyed showering with someone else actually.

I sat in class, not feeling well but it wasn't like that had changed much lately. The last two days I had been feeling off, not necessarily sick, just off. Though I had vomited once or twice. Must have been the tartar we had, though I had enjoyed it, maybe me and raw steak didn't mix. I'd have to ask Kreischen when we got home if he was feeling alright. I looked out the window as I listened to Tigg speak, her voice beautiful and melodious as a song to watch a few cars drive by, a woman walking a dog, and a raven dance from branch to branch. It was a beautiful day. And Kreischen would pick me up later, I felt oddly giddy about that, it was so strangely, right.

I was still smiling like a loon when I walked outside and embraced my beautiful lover boy. He looked like sex on a stick in his slacks and dress shirt that so thoroughly contrasted my leathers. "Come here you." I reached up, grabbing the back of his head and with his own grin he obliged me and we kissed, right there, in front of my school and all my fellow students there on the sidewalk. It felt so incredible to have someone claim me so openly and before all. I almost felt guilty about hiding my true nature from him, almost.

Taking my hand he walked with me down the street. He worked a handful of blocks away, and I hadn't even known. So rather than try and find parking for his tank downtown, he would walk over, pick me up, and we would walk back and chat about our days. It was relaxing and I enjoyed telling him about Otis and Tigg's classes though he still looked at me funny but evaded me when I asked about them shaking his head and smiling saying something like, he always thought they were a bit unusual. I just chalked it up to them being eccentric. Still though, we walked and talked, hand in hand. It was a beautiful day after all. Kreischen stopping for a moment outside his office building to go inside and grab his briefcase, I hadn't wanted to deal with the security measures today, the sunshine and breeze were helping me feel better.

I looked up and froze, a man with golden eyes walking towards me. A long scar looked angry and red from chin, down his throat, and disappearing into his shirt. His brilliantly golden eyes were narrowed as he zeroed in on me.

I felt the anger return full force, an old friend that flooded inside me as I did a subtle glance to make sure that Kreischen hadn't entered the car park yet before turning to face my old friend. I pulled out my sword, fury riding me hard. My entire body was shaking beneath the weight of my hatred for this being. This servant to his God. I wanted him dead with every beat of my heart, every breath I expelled I cursed his very existence. "I'm going to kill you this time." I extended my blade, feeling the comfortable weight of it, feeling my whole body limber up in preparation to slice off his head and play football with it. My voice shook as it struggled to contain the seething venom of my words, my utter contempt for him clear. I took a single step towards the templar, intent on gouging out those damned eyes, rip his heart out and feast on it as he lay dying, his screams of agony music to my ears. Everything came down to this. Everything was falling into place, the will of the universe clearly felt as it surged through my veins.

I saw the eyes widen, the telltale signs of fear, the smell of it, the stench of sweat and panic as he crossed himself. Good. Be afraid of the big scary bitch. I growled in my throat, knowing I had the upper hand now since I had talents he no longer knew about. Training with Kreischen and his lack of skill had forced me to adapt, I would forever be grateful to him for that. His lips trembled as he opened his mouth to speak, wish I had caught the jaw in that last blow, would shut the guy up for five minutes. "This," the words tumbled over themselves as if fleeing whilst their master stood rooted to his spot in his fear. "This doesn't involve you Deicide." What the shit? I smelled cinnamon and spices.

"You shouldn't worry about me," the voice was hauntingly familiar and yet not, there was a low sensual purr to the deep cadence of what I knew, "My girl is more than enough to end you."