#the dreaded studio chit-chat

[hachichimitsu2]

ABOUT ME

Hachi ✨ 20 ✨ She/Her ✨ 🇵🇭 ✨ INFJ 6w5

Hello, I’m Hachi! I'm a full-time freelance illustrator on Fiverr, and I hopefully plan to branch out in other artistic areas in my life! Expect me to dump all of my artistic interests over here : #hachichiart

I also have a children’s picture e-book that I self-published on Amazon. I made it as a requirement for my high school thesis, so while the art there is definitely a representation of my past, I still stand by the message I was trying to send. I hope to eventually branch out this series in a form of a webcomic of sorts, for people who can’t afford to purchase my e-book for financial reasons. These characters are extremely dear to me, and I can’t wait to expound on them when I have the time lmao. Here’s a tag regarding the series: #behindtheartistichand

Some note-worthy things to mention, this blog is generally 15+, but I do make sure to tag any NSFW content and general triggers out there. I often post and retweet adult animation, so I’d say tread carefully if you’re a minor. I’m also critical with the media I consume, but most of the time, I like to talk about why I like something rather than why I hate it. I just find it more fun to expound on the positives of my favorite things. I also don’t take everything seriously.

Please let me know privately if I did or say anything wrong. Sometimes I say things without meaning to, and I’m not the brightest crayon in the box, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. If you take offense with anything I posted, just send a polite DM and explain why it offended you so I can be educated regarding the subject. I’m also available for any questions, DMs and a genuine chit-chat.

MAIN INTERESTS

1. Character-Driven Storytelling

2. Adult Cartoons

3. CGDCT / Slice-of-Life Shows

4. Pastel Goth / Creepy Cute Fashion

5. Coming-of-Age Stories

6. Magical Girls

7. Psychological Horror

8. Well-Written Children’s Media

9. RPG Maker Horror Games

10. Video Essays & Film Studies

11. Speed Metal / Vaporwave / Shibuya-Kei

12. K-POP / J-POP Girl Groups (Serotonin Babey!)

13. 4LT (MBTI), Typology, Cognitive Functions

14. All Types of Artistic Endeavors (OCs, FanArt, Comics, Film, Music, Fanfiction, etc.)

TOP 5 ANIME SERIES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

1. K-ON!!

2. Hunter x Hunter

3. Neon Genesis Evangelion

4. Ojamajo Doremi

5. Ouran Highschool Host Club.

TOP 5 CARTOON SERIES (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

1. South Park

2. Bojack Horseman

3. Moral Orel

4. Ed, Edd n Eddy

5. Infinity Train

FAVORITE MOVIES

1. Interstellar (Favorite Sci-Fi Movie of All Time)

2. Nacho Libre (Favorite Guilty Pleasure Movie)

3. Johnny Got His Gun (Scariest movie of all time due to the sheer existential dread)

4. Studio Ghibli Films (Particularly Ponyo, My Neighbor Totoro & Grave of the Fireflies)

5. Perfect Blue (Favorite Anime Movie)

6. One Cut of the Dead (It’s hard to recommend this movie without spoiling it, but it’s an absolute must that you finish it in its entirety before you proceed to make any further judgments)

7. Coraline (I know almost everyone loves Coraline at this point, but it’s genuinely good.)

8. Interview with the Vampire (Favorite Vampire movie of all time that doesn’t seem overdone or cliché. It’s also really gay)

9. Get Out (2017)

10. Us (2019)

11. Up (2009)

12. Toy Story (Movies 1 to 3)

13. Hereditary (2018)

14. The Shining (1980)

15. Audition (1999)

16. Misery (1990)

17. The Green Mile (1999)

18. Shawshank Redemption (1994)

19. Saving Private Ryan (1998)

20. Mommie Dearest (1981)

21. The Others (2001)

22. The Platform (2020)

23. The Lodge (2019)

OTHERS

1. Homestuck (It’s been a good while since I read Homestuck, so my memory of the general storyline is fuzzy. I’ll re-read it once I have the chance)

2. When They Cry (Currently up-to date with the Higurashi anime and watched the live-action movies. Finally started to tackle the sound novels. Have yet to encounter Umineko and Ciconia)

3. Age of Youth (Favorite K-drama of all time.)

4. Squid Game (Battle Royale-type thriller series that tackles capitalism and the illusion of choice and free will? Sign me the fuck up)

5. Majisuka Gakuen (Favorite J-drama of all time. Also, yes, I’m biased because of my love for AKB48.)

6. Flight of the Conchords (Favorite live-action series of all time.)

7. Adult Cartoons (The Boondocks, Camp Camp, Superjail, The Oblongs, Bob’s Burgers, The Simpsons, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Home Movies, Beavis & Butthead, Daria, Smiling Friends, Aggretsuko)

8. FilmCow (I absolutely love everything they put out. Currently up to date with VuloLives’s broadcasts)

9. The Eric Andre Show (A good friend recommended me this show, and I haven’t stopped since.)

10. Nathan for You (My humor condensed into one show)

11. CGDCT / Slice-of-Life Shows (Sweetness & Lightning, The Amazing World of Gumball, Spongebob Squarepants, Gakkou Gurashi, Lucky Star, Gakuen Utopia Manabi Straight, Koufuku Graffiti, Hidamari Sketch, Pita-Ten, A Little Snow Fairy Sugar, Di Gi Charat, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, Yama no Susume, Shirobako, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, Saint Young Men, Gunslinger Girl, Kareshi Kanojo no Jijou, Osomatsu-san, Hey Arnold, The Peanuts, Arthur, Hibike! Euphonium, Nichijou, Asobi Asobase, Azumanga Daioh, Codename: Kids Next Door, Chowder)

12. Idol Anime (Love Live! School Idol Project, Aikatsu, Revue Starlight, Full Moon wo Sagashite, Pretty Rhythm, AKB600SEC // Will get into IDOLMASTER eventually)

13. Undertale (Will pick up Earthbound and Omori eventually)

14. RPGMaker Horror Games (Mad Father, Misao, The Witch’s House, Ao Oni, etc. Hoping to get into newer released games!)

15. Fictional Children / Adolescents Getting Trapped in Dangerous Scenarios (Digimon Tamers, Made in Abyss, The Promised Neverland, Alice Academy, Code Lyoko, The World Ends with You, Total Drama Island, Danganronpa)

16. Weird, Experimental or Slightly Disturbing Series (Serial Experiments Lain, Kuchuu Buranko, Invader Zim, Flapjack, Salad Fingers)

17. Shounen Anime (Yu Yu Hakusho, Mob Psycho 100, Dragon Ball Z)

18. Magical Girl Anime (Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Tokyo Mew Mew, Mermaid Melody, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, RWBY, Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt, My Little Pony, Princess Tutu, Powerpuff Girls, My Life As A Teenage Robot, Bee and Puppycat, Star vs. The Forces of Evil, Steven Universe // Will pick up She-Ra & The Owl House Eventually)

19. The Haunting of Hill House / Bly Manor (Don’t let the jump-scares deceive you. It’s a genuinely good character-driven horror series)

20. Sci-Fi Cartoons (Rick & Morty, Solar Opposites, Futurama, Bravest Warriors)

ROLE MODELS / BIASES / OSHIMENS / BEST GIRLS

1. Trey Parker & Matt Stone

2. Gain & Narsha (BROWN EYED GIRLS)

3. Hyuna (SOLOIST)

4. Sooyoung (SNSD)

5. Gyuri (KARA)

6. Hani (EXID)

7. Seulgi & Yeri (RED VELVET)

8. Sana (TWICE)

9. Yves & Olivia Hye (LOONA)

10. Shuhua (G-IDLE)

11. Yena (IZ*ONE)

12. Winter (AESPA)

13. SUZUKA (ATARASHII GAKKOU)

14. Shiroma Miru (NMB48)

15. Yabuki Nako (HKT48)

16. Takahashi Minami (ex-AKB48)

17. Kojima Haruna (ex-AKB48)

18. Shinoda Mariko (ex-AKB48)

19. Sayaka Akimoto (ex-AKB48)

20. Watanabe Mayu (ex-AKB48)

21. Shimazaki Haruka (ex-AKB48)

22. Matsui Jurina (ex-SKE48)

23. Sakura Miko (HOLOLIVE)

24. Natsuiro Matsuri (HOLOLIVE)

25. Oozora Subaru (HOLOLIVE)

26. Inugami Korone (HOLOLIVE)

27. Houshou Marine (HOLOLIVE)

28. Kiryu Coco (ex-HOLOLIVE)

29. Momosuzu Nene (HOLOLIVE)

30. Kureiji Ollie (HOLOLIVE)

31. Takanashi Kiara (HOLOLIVE)

32. VuloLives (INDEPENDENT VTUBER)

CONTACTS

• Instagram: @Hachichimitsu

• Twitter: @Hachichimitsu

• I take art commissions on Fiverr: https://www.fiverr.com/hachichimitsu

• I have a children’s e-book on Amazon. Make sure to download the Amazon Kindle app to be able to read it on your smart device: https://www.amazon.com/Behind-Artistic-Erika-Marie-Vargas-ebook/dp/B08789CW3V

[shirtlesssammy]

6x06: You Can't Handle the Truth

Then:

Soulless Sam was a psychotic work of art

Now:

Calumet City, Illinois

Jane, a cute waitress at Biggerson’s, talks on the phone with a friend about whether a boy likes her (Bechdel who?). “I just need the truth,” she implores, as the camera zooms in on her mouth. 

She gets the truth. After ending the call, her coworkers start telling her VERY mean things, and a customer admits to running over a homeless man once. People just poor their worst thoughts out at her. Feeling like she’s going crazy, she calls someone to pick her up. Her friend just throws out more mean things at Jane. It’s then that Jane pulls out a gun and kills herself. DARK. 

Meanwhile Dean’s on the phone with Bobby about Sam. Bobby says he’ll look into it more and tells Dean, “Don’t shoot him yet.” Once off the phone, Sam brings food and a case. 

They head to interview Jane’s sister. She tells Sam that Jane was having a bad day, and she tried cheering her up. Sam --ruthless and blunt-- calls her out on her lie and asks what she did. Dean watches, perplexed. The sister starts crying, and admits that she wanted to console her sister, but it’s not what came out when she talked to her. They leave wondering what could have caused the fatal exchange. 

At a dentist’s office, a man sits in the dreaded chair, chit chatting with the dentist. He suddenly admits to not liking his wife anymore, and he’s actually a raging pedophile. 

Dean’s back on the phone with Bobby, hoping for answers on whether it’s Sam or Satan that’s Dean’s copilot. Dean’s struggling with the idea that this could just be Sam. 

Sam comes back to the motel to report another death --this time a guy got drilled to death. (But by the “non-sexy kind of drilling”, as Dean points out. DUDE.) Dean tells Sam to go interview the dentist alone. He’ll stay behind and do research. Uh, not suspicious at ALL , Dean. 

Turns out, the dentist hung himself before Sam could talk with him. They’re thinking that all the truth telling around the deaths point to a curse. While Sam heads to the morgue to check out the body, Dean heads to the dentist’s office. Once there, he finds a receipt for “Harry’s House of Horns” and remembers that Jane also had frequented the store. 

He goes to interview the store owner.

The owner asks about progress on his stolen horn. It was a museum piece, a thousand years old, one in a million. It was stolen the same day Jane died. 

Later, at the motel, he looks up Gabriel’s Horn, and sarcastically prays to Cas to check out the “loose nuke”, not really expecting the angel to show. 

GUYS. I haven’t rewatched this episode in --forever!--and didn’t think Cas was in it. But HE IS. AND we get a “Hello, Dean.” 

Dean’s a little (!) pissed that Cas will come for this stupid horn, but not otherwise. Cas reassures Dean that Sam is not Lucifer while pouring him a consolation drink.

Dean asks Cas what’s wrong with Sam, but Cas doesn’t know (Like, doesn’t Cas honestly not know he forgot Sam’s soul or is he lying on purpose?). Dean then stares (and stares) at Cas. He wants to know what Cas’s deal is --when did he stop being human (*whimpering noises*). “I’m at war.” 

For Science:

Dean mentions Gabriel’s Horn of Truth and says they think it’s in town. Before he can continue, Cas is gone. (*whimpering noises*)

Dean takes a drink, and Cas is back before he can finish swallowing. He searched the town and didn’t find Gabriel’s horn. Dean turns his back and tells Cas, “Nice seeing you anyway.” Cas tries mending fences a bit by telling Dean that he does want to help with Sam. He tells Dean that he’ll “make inquiries”, and is gone. Dean looks around the room forlornly, and takes another drink. 

Sam takes a look at the dead dentist and asks to see the rest of the bodies. The coroner says, “They’re gone.” Gone gone. They’re gone. 

Dean sits at a bar, nursing his Cas wounds, and watches the news on the television. Sam calls with the news. He’s at a missing person’s apartment now --and since she died a whole week before the others, he’s thinking the curse started with her. 

Dean orders another drink for the road, and utters the words, “I’d just like the freaking truth.” The bartender unloads some serious truths on Dean --and he realizes that he’s cursed. 

He calls Bobby to test out his new cursed skills, and learns that Bobby’s drinking milk in the middle of the day and watching Tori and Dean. Lol, nothing to confess at all, Bobby! “I guess it does work over the phone,” Dean laments. Bobby also confesses to pedicures and that Dean’s his favorite (but Sam’s the better hunter). OOF. Said flippantly, but this is one truth siblings never want confirmation on. Dean tells Bobby that he’s cursed --and then he gets an idea.

Dean calls Sam strategically now that he’s carrying the truth curse, and asks him to call him when he has a chance SO HE CAN SPILL. Sam can’t come to the phone right now because he’s going over the case with Corey’s sister. She confesses that her sister was obsessed with finding out the truth about her potentially-cheating boyfriend.

Back with Dean, Lisa calls at the WORST TIME. She confronts him about his behavior - storming in and shoving Ben. “You've got so much buried in there, and you push it down, and you push it down. Do you honestly think that you can go through life like that and not freak out? Just, what, drink half a fifth a night and you're good?”

Lisa then tears into the reappearance of Sam, tagging the Winchesters’ relationship as unhealthy. As soon as Sam reappeared, she knew their relationship was over. Once everything’s laid out, Lisa pauses. “That came out so much harsher than I meant,” she says, softer this time. Dean absorbs her criticism like a towel specially designed for soaking up loathing. She tells him they’re done.

Sam tears through the bedroom looking for evidence. He finds a cat skull under the bed. “Yahtzee,” as they say. Dean storms in and demands the truth about the vampire hunt. Sam goes dewy eyed. He froze when Dean was attacked! And he feels super duper extra duper bad about it! For REALS. 

Later, they uncover the truth - quite literally - while doing research back at the motel. The cat skull was part of a ritual to invoke Veritas. Now everybody in town calls on Veritas whenever they demand the truth. Bombarded with the truth, victims kill themselves and become tributes. 

Cut to a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it montage of stealing a hard drive from the TV studio of Ashley Frank, local TV anchor. They (mostly Sam) watch cut footage until dawn.

For Pretty Motel Science:

Nothing suspicious appears until a barking dog makes an appearance on film. While the dog barks uncontrollably at the news anchor, they FINALLY notice an eye flash. Monster target LOCKED.

At Ashley Frank’s palatial home, they ready their weapons: blades coated with dog blood. (Sam does NOT want you to ask where he got it from.) The Winchester’s creep through her house, and finally locate an altar-like setup. There are candles, a sculpture of Veritas, and many cute widdle kitties. Veritas arrives and immediately knocks out the Winchesters.

Later, they wake to find themselves tied to posts. Veritas strolls in wearing a fabulous gold gown and gets right in Dean’s face so she can absorb some delicious emotions. 

Dean confesses that he feels better about Sam now, but before he thought he was a monster and wanted to kill him. Dean explains that the hunting gig is that you’re either covered in blood, or dying in it. He tells her that he’s good at slicing throats - he isn’t a father. He’s a killer. I SCREAM BECAUSE 15X18 AND 15X19 LEFT US A GIFT (and then 15x20, well……..doesn’t exist).

Sam tells Veritas that their lives are hard, but he and Dean watch out for each other. He’s EXTREMELY chill about the situation. Veritas listens to this calm analysis and then freaks out and accuses him of lying. She demands to know “what” he is, which is SO RUDE. 

They could stick around and talk some more, but Sam’s finally done sawing through the ropes holding him down. He escapes, then Dean frees himself as well. Veritas gets stabbed first by Dean, then Sam. She perishes dramatically, but after that foe is defeated, Dean raises a knife to Sam. Dean demands the truth.

Sam reveals that he knows he is “Sam,” but he understands that there’s something wrong with him. He lied, and he let Dean get turned into a vampire because he knew there was a cure, and that Dean could fight it. He admits that old Sam wouldn’t take the risk of Dean turning forever, or killing an innocent person. Sam tells Dean he doesn’t feel anything - and this is what makes him a better hunter. Sam concludes that he needs help. 

Dean knocks Sam to the ground and starts throwing several punches at him until he passes out.

The Quotes Hurt:

Dentist drilled a guy to death

I'm here hittin' the books while drinking a nice glass of milk, while watching Tori & Dean

I'm not saying don't be close to Sam. I'm close to my sister. But if she got killed, I wouldn't bring her back from the dead!

It’s the gig. You're covered in blood until you're covered in your own blood

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[neblina-a-blin]

homesick.

day 15 of the july writing challenge brings you one chonky boi! it features storms, art, and that one primative feeling i had as a child. also maybe some miracles.

_____________

Frankly, I never believed in inspiration and downright hated how fellow students talked about it, as did some professors. It’s the attributing my work to something intangible that grinds me; when it was my own hands blistering from new paint brushes, and the endless hours of study before touching the canvas. Art might seem like a miracle to people who don’t do it often enough, but those of us who chose to get into debt for the sake of art school have no such luxury.

But, however you want to put it, I was in a slump and just in time for my final project. I was tired, worn out, and absolutely ruined by sleepless nights and unsteady nerves. That’s when I was unofficially diagnosed with an art block, forced to take a leave of absence that I really could not afford, and sent to 'soak up some life' or 'take a vacation'. Financially the farthest I would have been able to get is my hometown, to be needled with questions I absolutely dreaded to answer. So I chose the comfort of my cramped studio apartment. After a week of isolation and mistaking one too many rinse cups for coffee mugs and vice versa, I figured a change of scenery would work better. Luckily, there were many public access museums to choose from.

It was like being a patch of bare desert a few feet away from waterfalls. Masterpieces displayed everywhere and bright-eyed prospective students looking ready to lick the paint off of them from admiration. I picked the most shady creaky bench next to Botticelli and pulled out my sterile-clean sketchbook.

Half an hour into what I can only describe as aimless doodling, a person sat beside me. I did not register anyone at first, it was the subtle smell of sea salt and musk that made me aware of him. I looked up to see that he was even less aware of my presence, his eyes adrift and longing. Tight curls, olive skin, and yet he had a strange coloring to him; when you focused on his features, the space around him darkened. Like he was the centre, and the rest of the room his dim-lit stage.

We did not get to talking at first, but one way or another, we eventually did. He had an accent that I could not quite place and a strange manner of speaking. He exuded the airs of somewhere far away, but I never got the courage to ask where he was from. He looked confused and troubled deeply by it, but his politeness never allowed it to spill over. In him, there was a very particular type of sadness, the one you learn to notice only if you have been through it, too. It was like a calamity erupting beneath a gentle, kind face.

He was homesick. 

I knew that by the way he spoke of his siblings just a little too soon for a chit chat, and called me his friend without being prompted. He also expressed worry as to whether he was taking up my time, isn't there someone waiting for me? I politely established that no, there was no one waiting for me, here, at home, or otherwise. I was a free bird. My awkward chuckle bothered him, like he could not understand it. He asked whether I have ever seen the true face of the sea.

“Unless that's a funny way to describe feeding seagulls some fries, then no.”

“Oh, it is relentless, friend. It knows no mercy, however may you beg for one."

“That's…” I paused, thinking of how to respond. This was my first human interaction in a long time and I knew it was not going swimmingly, "scary."

"It is. It is frightening to the bone. It will forever touch your heart with your own impotence. You would not come to forget it."

Despite being at a loss for words, I was forgiving of his nonsense. Sometimes people are in conversation with themselves, and you happen to be a witness. I found myself in these situations a lot back then.

"Yet... being embraced in the face of it,'' he continued. ''Being huddled in the presence of a storm, is the truest home I have ever known."

He said no more. It felt like he could not articulate ways of asking for help. I did not know how to step over that boundary, to reach over and offer that help. But with every silent minute passing between us, I found myself wanting to do it more and more.

The voice on the speakers announced that the museum will be closing soon. It was like a bell tolling, commencing our separate departures. Before I could find the words to say goodbye, my companion was gone, leaving me with more questions than prior to meeting him.

The many times I'd come back, I'd never ran into him since. Other people sitting beside me on the tiny creaking benches were hardly as memorable. My conversation with the man played out in my head so much I started to forget the parts. I tried to remember the structure of his face, but it would often dissolve, as if splashed across with water.

My regret over not having helped him started to fizzle out, and I was returning to the fruitless desert where I’d been before. Some days the pencil barely scratched the paper, and I was so bored I had to pick up the museum’s audio guide just to keep me company. His face returned to me soon enough after that. The interplay between bright and dark finally clued me in on a connection with Rembrandt. 

I dropped the pencil I had chewed the top off of.

''The legendary Isabella Stewart Gardner heist remains unsolved, with thirteen paintings missing. Their current whereabouts are unknown, and the museum is lacking some of its most treasured jewels,'' toneless voice in the earphones continued.

I rushed to another room, where the harrowingly empty frame was mounted. It felt like being in a gravesite. The lackluster wallpaper stared right through you. The golden plated square was the eye, and the vanished painting its lost pupil. The image of the wayward painting was on nearby leaflets. I knew it in a way I could never ever know any other.

''Among the thirteen stolen masterpieces is Rembrandt's only seascape..."

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee.

I smacked myself on the forehead for not connecting the dots sooner, as if it would have been rational for me to come to this conclusion on my own. I was once again haunted by the homesick face of that man, the weariness from pain softening his eyebrows and mouth, as the finest of brushwork. 

I rushed out of the museum, cupping my feelings like I would hold holy water in my hands had I been religious. It was like a miracle visiting a commoner, it was like being touched on the heart with omnipotence. I unlocked my dusty apartment, paced past the empty pizza boxes and unfolded laundry, to where my second-hand easel stood. 

That day I chose the colors of a storm, and being lost but not forgotten.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (122/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[29 May, 233 Before Age. Yetitan.]

Wampaaan'riix was tired. He had spent much of the day on the windswept pastures of his ancestral farm, clearing brush and counting livestock. For a man of his extraordinary strength, this was physically simple, but the tedium of it had a way of wearing him out. He had gone straight to bed upon returning home, barely making time to say good night to his wives and children.

When the communications terminal alerted him to a priority subspace call, he expected the worst. When he saw it was from Luffa's star-yacht, only for Dr. Topsas to appear on the viewer instead, he was even more concerned. He knew Luffa's Federation alliance was at war, with Saiyans battling on both sides.

"She is recovering in a stasis tank," Topsas explained. "I expect she will be completely healed in two months' time."

Wampaaan'riix stroked the long white hair that hung from his chin. There was long white hair covering the rest of his body as well, but the chin was the part he always reached for when he contemplated grim tidings. "In warfare, two months is an eternity, doctor" he said. "I'm surprised you were able to talk her into it."

"I suspect her injuries were more persuasive than anything I might have said," Topsas replied. "Individually, these enemy Saiyans are no match for her, but she has had to fight groups of them, on planet after planet, with little respite. I think she understood that if she didn't take this opportunity to heal, there might not be another chance later on."

"Is there something I can do to help?" Wampaaan'riix asked. "I've all but retired from fighting, but I owe her my life, after all."

"No, nothing like that," Topsas said. "I simply needed some... advice."

"Advice." he repeated.

"I spoke with one of my sons a few days ago. He wasn't very happy about my presence in Federation space during wartime," Topsas said. "He practically begged for me to come home. He arranged a transport ship to arrive at Woshad in four days."

"Then I think you should take it," Wampaaan'riix said. He first met Luffa and Topsas in a Deathmatch tournament on Plutark VII. He had been so certain of his fighting skills, and she had defeated him with ease, then she toyed with him to test her abilities. Then she accidentally read his mind, and after seeing his regret for walking out on his family, she decided to spare him. "I'm positive that she would understand if you left the war to go back to your loved ones."

"I don't know that I can do that," Topsas said.

"Doctor, you just told me that Luffa will be in a stasis chamber for the next several weeks," Wampaaan'riix said. "I've seen how those things work during my time in the Yetitan military. They're very low-maintenance. Now that you've set it up, you could probably show Zatte how to handle the day-to-day operations. And there's no shortage of doctors in the Federation who could take over for you."

"I'm not so sure..." Topsas said. "The statis chamber is one thing, of course. Plenty of others could handle it."

"Well, what else is there?" Wampaaan'riix asked. It was difficult for him to keep his patience. Bad enough that he had been woken from his sleep, that he was sitting at his desk instead of the warm rugs of his den. But Topsas was never very forthcoming about his feelings. Always masking everything with dry humor and sarcasm. He had never known the arachnoid to ask for help like this, and now he was beginning to understand why. It wasn't stubborn pride so much as the doctor just couldn't quite spit out what the problem was.

And when Topsas finally answered, he only said: "Mycotherapy."

Which told Wampaaan'riix absolutely nothing. "What?" he asked.

"There is a particular species of fungus," Topsas explained. "In the wild, it has the ability to alter its DNA to mimic plant or animal tissue. This allows it to graft itself onto a host while avoiding any immune response. Three years ago, a team of researchers found a way to modify the fungus for medical applications. Genetic engineering, you know. A few fungal cells are applied to the site of the injury, and cultivated to replicate. If managed properly, they'll form a structure to fill in the wounded tissue. Then the fungal mass can be made to transform itself into part of the patient's own body."

"That sounds unbelievable."

"It's a rather new form of medicine," Topsas said. "I only learned of it myself very recently, while I was researching possible treatments for Luffa. I... began casting about for more... radical ideas."

"Radical," Wampaaan'riix said. "As in 'dangerous'?

"The graft has to be carefully monitored. Left unchecked, it could grow out of control, and consume the patient. And it hasn't been tested on many species. Until... recently, there's been no testing on any mammalian species at all."

"If you don't know what it could do to Saiyan biology, then why risk it?"

"Because I do know how it will interact with Saiyan biology. I... performed my own tests, using tissue samples from Luffa herself. I only did it to set my mind at ease-- to prove that it would never work, so that I could stop second-guessing myself. But, the results turned out to be more promising than I expected. There's a very strong chance that I could heal her wounds in a fraction of the time it would take for conventional stasis chamber therapy to work."

"Why haven't you told her about this?"

"I only obtained the results a few days ago, right before she went into the chamber. Before that, it was only an experiment. Besides, there would still be an immense risk. I would need to apply multiple grafts to her body and monitor them all simultaneously. No one has ever attempted this before, on any species. No one would."

"Then why consider it at all?"

"Because when I look at the work that would be involved, I cannot help but think I might be able to carry it off. It's not a certainty, but I've carried out delicate operations that humanoid physicians wouldn't dare attempt. The researchers who devised mycotherapy techniques were all vertebrate doctors. Greater minds than I, but even so, I believe I have abilities they did not. And while I lack experience in this specific therapy, I dare say I know Saiyan physiology better than anyone. If it can be done at all, then I believe it must be I."

Wampaaan'riix stroked his chin again. "And if you try this, you definitely won't make the transport your son sent you. But that's not what's bothering you. Otherwise you would just take the transport and let Luffa heal for two months under someone else's care. That would be the best thing for everyone, right? So why are you even considering this fungus of yours?"

He didn't answer right away, and Wampaaan'riix wasn't terribly surprised. He hadn't called from so far away for idle chit-chat.

"I became a doctor because I wanted to help people," Topsas finally said. "In my religion, it is said that my people were blessed with eight eyes so we may always see when others are in need, and eight limbs so that we may always have one ready to lend aid. I was fascinated with vertebrate anatomy, and I thought becoming a doctor would enable me to see more, to help more. Do you remember when we met?"

"On Plutark. You were patching up the competitors in the Deathmatch tournaments. I never did understand how you ended up there."

The tournament organizers paid handsomely for my assistance," Topsas said. "And my practice needed the funding. Besides, I felt that if I could at least tend to your injuries, then I could know that the competitors received as much genuine care as possible before most of them met their end. Another doctor might not bother, since he would expect most of you to die by the end of the day anyway. But I could hold myself accountable at least."

"But Luffa changed all of that."

"She spared you, and in the process, she defied the tournament organizers, and ended up shutting down their entire operation, thereby saving the lives of the other fighters who still had matches that evening. To say nothing of the fighters who might have participated in future matches that will no longer occur. Before, I had written you and Luffa off as little more than brutes. Yet you returned to your homeworld, to your family. You've raised your son into a fine man, from what I can tell. I trust the rest of your offspring have been just as fortunate."

Wampaaan'riix was honored by the compliment, but he was also wearied by the late hour. "What are you getting at, doctor?" he asked with a loud yawn.

"For a time, I saw my work in those dreadful tournaments as an unpleasant chore. I was less a doctor and more of a priest, administering last rites for the condemned. Oh, one fortunate soul would live to see the next day, but I always knew that survivor would die in some other battle, thinking his victory made him invincible. But Luffa was special, and in discovering that, I realized that I had been remiss in my duties, both medical and spiritual. That was why I came to her aid on the Tikosi Hiveworld. It was the right thing to do, of course, but I wonder if any other doctor would have felt such an obligation. You owed her your life, Wampaaan'riix, but I owed her my soul.

"And now, it seems that she blames me for her overzealous crusade to defend the Federation. I comforted her in her hour of need, you see. I held her hand and calmed her down after the battle with the Tikosi, after she killed her own father. She reminded me so much of my daughter. Nwitt died of a terminal illness. In the final stages, it affected her brain, made her a danger to herself and others. In the end, she was so terrified, and all I could do was euthanize her. I couldn't hold my own daughter's hand in her final moments. She had to be restrained, you see. When Luffa first transformed, it seem as though she might explode at any moment. I thought that if this were to be the end, then comforting her in her final moments would be a fitting way to die. Instead, she lived, and she apparently has taken my gesture as an example of courage.

"I never considered the things my patients might do after they leave my care," he said. "Their lives are their own business, of course. I was content to help them with what I had. But there is a ripple effect to it, isn't there? The person I mend one day may help someone else another day. And another. Perhaps someone down the chain actually manages to save someone's life. It's a frightening thing to consider. And Luffa is no mere pebble tossed into a pond. With her power, she's more like a meteor crashing into the ocean. I cannot bring myself to think of hers as a single life. There are so many other lives that she has influenced and may still influence in the future. A week or two months might mean the difference between life and death for countless people. And I can choose. A week or two months. I can play it safe, or I can dare to perform a challenging procedure that might kill or cripple my patient."

"Cripple?"

"One of the potential side effects of mycotherapy," he explained. "Even if the fungal growth is kept under control, the drugs used to maintain that control can affect the patient's senses. Her sight or sense of smell might be permanently damaged."

Wampaaan'riix leaned back in his chair. "High stakes," he said. "Knowing Luffa, she would probably just as soon fight blind, and she might even win, powerful as she is. But her enemies would just injure her again, and worse than before."

"I trust you see my dilemma," Topsas said. "I asked Ms. Dotz for advice. The woman is a fortuneteller, but she has a psychic blindspot where Luffa's fate is concerned, and she seems to have no idea how many people will live or die as a result of my actions. It serves me right for trying to peek ahead a few pages in my own life. She told me that I would certainly do the right thing, but it isn't that simple. I... I don't know what the right thing is."

"And that's why you contacted me," Wampaaan'riix surmised.

"There was no one else to ask. I wanted an objective opinion from someone who knows her," Topsas said.

Wampaaan'riix sighed and considered the matter carefully. "Doctor," he finally asked, "what do you think Luffa would say to all of this?"

"I haven't discussed it with her yet," Topsas replied. "Knowing her, she would probably insist on taking this gamble. Which is precisely why I am so reluctant to suggest it. For me it's an ethical problem, but for her! As far as she's concerned, even a disabled Super Saiyan would be better than an injured one. All she cares about now is time. The young always worry about running out of something they have in abundance."

"No, that's not what I'm asking," Wampaaan'riix said. "Suppose Luffa were in your position. How do you think she would approach this dilemma?"

"I don't understand... you mean, if she were a doctor treating a patient?" he asked.

"Yes. What would she do?"

His fuzzy pedipalps twitched as he wrestled with this scenario. Wampaaan'riix never quite learned to read Topsas's alien body language, so he watched uncertainly as the doctor thought it over. He was mildly concerned that he might drift off to sleep while he waited for Topsas to respond.

"I suspect," Topsas finally said, "that she would find a way to push herself to her limits. The difficulty of the procedure would only be a challenge for her. She would rise to meet it, unless she were absolutely certain that it was beyond her ability."

"Very good," Wampaan'riix said. "Spoken like a true warrior. I think that is the way you should decide. If you truly believed this plan of yours is unsound, then you would have abandoned it a long time ago. Instead, you've slowly talked yourself into it, until now, you stand at the threshold, but you aren't sure you're ready to commit. You're asking the rest of us for permission to try, but this is your battlefield, doctor, and yours alone."

"I will... consider what you have said," Topsas said after a long pause. "Though, to be honest, this was not quite the advice I was hoping for."

"We have a saying on Yetitan," Wampaaan'riix said. "'Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer, but wish we didn't.' I don't know Dotz, but she sounds like a wise woman. So I agree that you will do the right thing, whatever you ultimately decide. Good luck to you, doctor."

They exchanged a few pleasantries before terminating the connection, leaving Wampaan'riix sitting alone in the darkened room. He thought about returning to his den, but somehow he doubted he would get much sleep, knowing what he knew of Luffa's condition.

*******

[30 May, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

Topsas did not decide right away. He resolved instead to wait another twenty-four hours and see how Luffa was responding to conventional treatment. The results he obtained from the sensor scans was less than encouraging.

"This isn't working," he said as he read the results. Luffa could not hear him. She floated in a suspension of medicated statis fluid, kept in an induced state of unconsciousness. Nor was there anyone else in the sickbay of the Emerald Eye to hear him. He continued speaking anyway.

"Your injuries are responding to the treatment, but not nearly at the rate I had hoped for. My own fault for being overly optimistic. I expected you to produce another miracle. Somehow your Saiyan biology would repair itself even more quickly, and you would break out of this tank in a mere ten days.

"But no. The inflammation in your feet has barely changed. Your cracked ribs have only just begun to knit. What is wrong with you, Little mammal? Are you so determined to keep fighting that you defy medical attention, even when you're unconscious?"

He had originally projected her full recovery would take at least two months. Based on the data he now had, that estimate would have to be revised upward. Three months, maybe even four. The bio-regenerative gel was working. He had used it on her in the past, after all. But it wasn't fast enough. Something about her condition was slowing down the whole process.

"My apologies. It is a poor physician who blames his patient. And yet, I cannot fathom what is going on in those cells of yours. Is your body focusing itself on increasing your power? The 'zenkai' as your people call it. Am I seeing a physical manifestation of that right now? Ninth Eye, are you so starved for combat that your body would fight itself? Half of you is trying to use this treatment to repair itself, and the other half is working on making you stronger."

He had prided himself on his expertise in Saiyan biology, but that honor was mostly by default. He was the only doctor who had spent this much time on a Saiyan patient, but there was still much that he didn't understand about how their bodies worked. The light of the full moon could make Luffa grow into a gargantuan ape-creature... unless her tail happened to be injured or amputated. It sounded like pure fantasy, but it was well-documented fact. They were so unlike other vertebrates, and Luffa was unique, even among her own kind. She never spoke of it, at least not to him, but he often imagined that being the Super Saiyan made her very lonely.

"I pray that I am wrong," he said. "Perhaps your body simply doesn't have the necessary compatibility with the medication. It can't be that your power is resisting the healing effects. It would be dreadful to be so devoid of peace. I think you crave peace as much as the rest of us do. Perhaps you only want it as a respite between battles, a good night's sleep, a quiet evening with your wife. I wish I could give these to you. As it is, I cannot even give you a swift recovery."

He stooped down in front of the chamber and looked at her through the transparent surface.

"I am not as oblivious as you might think," he said. "I know how important it is that you return to the front lines. Even now, I feel like your expression is daring me to do better. I don't know that I can. Is it worth the risk? Is it worth your life?"

He had gone over the mycotherapy procedure several times after speaking with Wampaaan'riix. He thought he could do it. What troubled him was that it had never been done quite the way he had in mind. As he regarded Luffa's face, he thought of his son, Turner, begging him to take the transport he had arranged to get him out of the warzone. He thought of his daughter, Nwitt, desperate for help, when the only thing he could offer was a painless death.

Then he put his hand on the control panel of the chamber, and activated the program to revive the occupant.

"I'll need to interrupt your sleep," he said. "I have something to discuss with you, and you may want to talk it over with your spouse."

*******

[31 May, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

They said yes. Of course they did. Topsas never doubted it. Luffa was a warrior anxious to return to her war, and Zatte was... well, she was something of a fanatic where Luffa was concerned. She insisted on performing some Dorlun ritual to honor Topsas before he began his work. It involved some sort of liturgy, and burning bits of her own hair in candle flames. Zatte could be very strange at times. But Luffa was the one that made him the most nervous. When he had explained the risks and difficulties of his proposed mycotherapy treatment, she simply grinned at him with that savage smile of hers, and shook his hand.

"I can tell how fired up you are about this, Doc," she had said before being sedated. "This should be fun."

It was as if she couldn't tell excitement from apprehension. But something about the conviction in her voice made him wonder if maybe she knew his feelings better than he did. Perhaps he was the one who had been mistaking enthusiasm for fear. Luffa had a peculiar talent of making him question himself.

And so far, it was working. Dr. Topsas wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. An early failure at this stage would at least put the matter to rest. He could say he tried, and move on. But it was working, at least for now, which mean that he had to keep going, and brave the potential failures that might still lie ahead.

He had never used seven hands at once. Not for surgery, not for anything, until today. Now, he rested his cephalothoarx on a barstool he had borrowed from a lounge on the ship, and used only one of his limbs to steady himself on that perch. The other seven limbs loomed over the stasis chamber, operating controls, dispensing drugs, and occasionally probing surgical incisions. His eight eyes observed all of this: his own movements, computer monitors, vital sign readouts, and more.

His two greatest points of concern were a hole in Luffa's left foot, and a damaged section of her right kidney. The foot had the largest injury, which required the largest fungal graft. If any of the grafts were to grow out of control, that was the most likely to do so. The kidney, on the other hand, was the most vital organ he had grafted. The graft was small, but if anything went wrong there, it could lead to more serious complications.

There were fifteen other sites to consider as well. Tendon damage in the right tricep. Puncture wound in the right foot. Left ring finger fracture. Three cracked ribs. Anterior cruciate ligament tear on right knee. Six lacerations in the abdomen, all damaging the large intestine. Large contusion on left thigh. Tendon damage on right shoulder. But he was certain that if the left foot and kidney could be made to recover, the others could be made to recover as well.

The first seventy-two hours were the most intensive. Normally, a team of doctors would carefully monitor the patient's progress and make adjustments as needed. He would need to do this alone, continuously. And he would probably have to be more nimble, since there would probably be unforeseen complications. He could slow down and take a little more time, but this carried a risk. If Luffa's organs rejected the fungal grafts, or vice-versa, he would need to take quick action, or risk undoing his progress. Better to exhaust himself across three days than to pace himself across four or five.

An alert from one of the monitors warned him of an acceleration in growth on one of Luffa's ribs. He applied a dilute solution of R-gel to slow it down. Beside Luffa was a tray of solutions he had prepared at various concentrations before beginning the procedure. Normally, a doctor administering mycotherapy would simply use one of the stronger concentrations. At worst, the entire graft might die, and he would have to apply a new one. Topsas didn't want to wait that long, and so he added his own variation to the procedure. He had to slow any runaway fungal growth, but he would try to use dilute R-gel first, so as not to risk destroying his progress on that front.

It was all experimental and unprecedented. The technique was sound, and he was sure of his abilities, but it had never been done quite like this, with so many simultaneous grafts. He didn't care for blazing new trails. Being the first was a scary proposition. But the situation had forced his hand. How could he turn away from this? He had too many hands, and too many eyes not to try.

Luffa's metabolic readouts were fluctuating, and so he had to divide his attention to modifying her nutrient intake. This, in turn, shifted the delicate balance of the grafts. He was losing one of them, the one on her arm.

No. He refused to surrender. It would be all too easy to sacrifice a few of the mycotheraputic sites and start over on a second session. Easier, safer, and more time-consuming. How many people could Luffa help during that lost time? Was he willing to doom them just to make things easier for himself?

He looked down at Luffa's face. Even unconscious, there was something aggressive in her expression, like she was aware of the struggle he was going through.

He had never completely understood his late daughter. Even before her illness, Nwitt's manic passions seemed alien to him, and to everyone he knew. He had seen some of Nwitt in Luffa, and pitied her for it. But over time, he came to see the Saiyan heart as something more than an engine of war. Luffa had shown him a fiery passion that could do more than kill. She could laugh, cry, love, and draw strength from those intense emotions. And as Topsas came to admire Luffa, he began to appreciate Nwitt all the more. For the first time in decades, Topsas saw his daughter as something other than a tragedy to be mourned. Her short life, and the wild emotions that fueled it, were something to be celebrated and cherished. Even the fear that came at the end, well that had its own meaning, in its own way.

He prayed for some of that energy now. If his skill and steady hands should falter, there was still his pride as a healer to drive him. There was still the thrill of the challenge, the fear of failure. His daughter was dead, but if he could save this little mammal in her honor, then maybe it would give some purpose to her loss.

"I won't lose," he said aloud. Whether he was speaking to himself or to his patient, or to Nwitt's spirit, he did not know. As he worked, he soon forgot all thoughts of the risks of this task. He ignored the fatigue that began to weather his stamina. He simply ignored all other courses, save the one he was on.

Zatte--bless her soul--believed Luffa to be an instrument of God's will. While Topsas respected this viewpoint, he disagreed. He had seen Luffa on the day she had first transformed. He had seen how violent and terrified she was. He had held her hand to calm her down. He still remembered the feel of Tikosi blood on her fingers, the whimpers she made as she fought to regain control of her own body. Perhaps this was the way divine instruments were chosen, but Topsas had trouble believing it. There was nothing glorious or honorable about it. She was compelled to follow an unknown path that was fraught with danger. And Luffa had faced that fate with courage on that day.

He swore to do no less on this day.

*******

[1 June, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

And the next day.

*******

[2 June, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

And the next...

*******

[3 June, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

He didn't sleep in the way that vertebrates did. When he was tired, Topsas simply ceased moving, and remained still for a time, though he remained fully aware of his surroundings. He was long overdue for this type of rest, but he couldn't stop for long. Having completed his work on Luffa, he was anxious to drain the chamber and revive her, so that he could conduct a more thorough examination, and make sure there were no lasting side-effects. The entire process took forty-five minutes. While mechanical pumps removed the medicated fluid, a tube attached to a face mask removed the fluid from her lungs, gradually reacquainting her respiratory system with air. The mask also delivered a sedative, and when he was ready, he reduced the dosage, opened the lid of the chamber and waited.

She regained consciousness almost immediately, barely giving him time to prepare the med scanner. "Where...? Oh. Right, the stasis chamber," she said, as she came to her senses. "How did it go?"

"Better... better than expected," Topsas said, surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. "I... yes, better than expected. I'll leave it at that."

"Where's Zatte?"

"Oh, I... er, neglected to call her. I imagine she would be on the bridge. I've lost track of the time."

"How long was I out?"

"Three days." Tired as he was, he could not easily forget this, as he hadn't rested in all of that time.

"Three? You said it would take a week."

"Ah, yes, I did. It seems that your body was much more agreeable to the mycotherapy than I anticipated. I still want you to rest, but I don't know that we'll need the chamber for that. How are you feeling?"

Luffa paused for a moment, as though searching herself for an answer. "Sore," she said. Holding her hands in front of her face. "Not as bad as before, but... my vision's all... blurry."

Relief washed over him. Blurry vision, he could deal with. He had worried that she wouldn't be able to see at all, or something worse. He passed the med-scanner over her face anyway, to verify what she had said, but now he could feel more confident about it.

"A side effect of the fungal grafts," Topsas explained. "Your eyesight will return to normal eventually, though I shall have to monitor it carefully before we repeat the process."

"Repeat it?" Luffa asked.

"I think... yes, I think I've learned enough from this first attempt to feel confident about trying again," Topsas said. "The benefits seem to outweigh the risks at this point."

Luffa tried to sit up, and Topsas reached out to hold her back and guide her upright.

"Hold on," she said. "You're telling me that you managed to heal me up from all of that, in three days' time? And you can do it again? Whenever you want?"

"Not 'whenever'," he said with a sigh. "As I just said, I need to monitor your vision first. If we proceed too quickly, use the fungal graft too often, we run the risk of permanently damaging your senses."

"Yeah, but still..." She held up her left hand and looked at it. "It's not too blurry. Not sure why I see this blue tint on my skin..."

"That is the stasis fluid, little mammal," he said. One of his hands was already reaching up with a towel to wipe it off.

"Doc, are you okay?"

"Why would I not be?"

"You just sound tired somehow. It's hard to tell with you."

"I... may have overexerted a little," he admitted.

"You should rest," Luffa said. She planted her hands on the side of the chamber and began to pull herself out. "I can the service droid to bring us some dinner--"

He grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her from going any further.

"You are going to stay put until I am satisfied that your condition is stable," he said, noticing a faltering in his voice. "I just put you back together, and I want at least a little time to savor the victory before you rush off to undo all of my hard work."

"Sure, Doc, whatever you say," Luffa assured him. He turned to fetch something from one of the benchtops, and then he noticed her smiling at him.

"Does something amuse you?" he asked.

"You turned a corner, didn't you?" Luffa asked. "I'm a little out of it, but I can tell that much."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You weren't too thrilled about trying something like this, but now that it's over, you're practically champing at the bit to do it again."

"Oh yes, because I always look forward to seeing you return to this ship, bloodied and battered. Truly the highlight of my day."

"You remind me of when I was a kid, after I did my first Gallick Gun," Luffa said.

He said nothing, and pretended to be preoccupied with his scans.

"It might be a while before you get to do it again," she said. "Now that I'm healed up, it'll take a lot more to wear me down again. Those Jindan-using bastards won't have it so easy next time. Don't get too eager. You might get bored waiting for me to get hurt."

"I shall believe that when I see it," Topsas said.

She kept on gloating, as Saiyans so often do, about how she would destroy her enemies and reign supreme on the battlefield. Topsas simply carried on with his work, and when he was satisfied that there was nothing left for him to do for the time being, he called Zatte, then went to Luffa's bedside, and held her hand.

NEXT: To the future...

[talkativetheresa]

First Love - First Broken Heart - And Funny Enough, My First Post

aigh

Okay so I decide to share my story about how I fall in love for the first time. It was back at 6th grade, around 2010 maybe? So I used to have a childhood friends, let’s call them Aaron and Aiden (twins). They’re like a year older from me and we used to play together all the time since we’re neighbor and we have a pretty close balcony on the second floor, close enough for us to play together. It was back when I’m still in kindergarten, and when I moved, I lost contact with them even though they still stay at the same house.

Fast forward to 6th grade, I kinda stumble upon Aiden in front of my classroom. Turns out my current class room used to be his when he is still in elementary school. At first I don’t really think about love and romance you know. I learn about them in manga and Taylor Swift “Love Story” track but I have zero interest in boys. And it doesn’t help that I kind of a tomboy? As in I like to play soccer and I enjoy video games such as GTA, Dinasty Warrior, DOTA, Naruto, and many more. I am not really the girly girl type.  

But as time pass, I kinda start to notice him. I always steal a glance at him when he pass by my classroom. And then one day, suddenly, I start to have this strange sensation in my heart when I see him. I get shy, and I feel funny in my stomach when I meet him. I never really care about my appearance before but since then, I try to be more “presentable” whenever he is around. 

Summer holiday come, and my dad tells me that he plan to take me and my mom to Japan. We are going to visit there with a bunch of my dad friends. Turns out, his parents are kinda close with my dad and they are also coming. When I know about that, I kinda panicked, but kinda happy at the same time? But I still did not realize that I like Aiden.

I thank God because there are other kids that joins the group. Because I am really awkward back then. I really enjoy my time there. And the best part is that I get to know him better. And he always talks and joke around with me. I am also close with Aaron, but Aaron is kind of a prankster while Aiden is more calmer and mature. Oh I forgot to mention that they are in fact Identical, but Aiden wear glasses while Aaron don’t. 

Aiden always take care of my while Aaron always tease me. Like stealing my snacks, or saying that I’m fat (well I am kinda fat back then). I remember that Aiden is not that brave since he really dislike riding a jet coaster while me on the other hand really enjoy extreme rides. I also remember that he tried to win a plushie for me at the claw machine but he ended up always failing and then I kinda played it and win a plushie for him instead. 

I have many memories of him back in Japan, but one particular one that makes me realize that I fall in love with him is the one in Singapore. So after exploring Japan, the group decide to extend the holiday and visit Singapore. I don’t mind since I do enjoy traveling. We decide to visit Universal Studio. And even though I enjoy extreme rides, I really dislike anything that is scary and I really hate clowns or even costumes (even if its barney, minions, mickey). I dreaded them. But all of my friends decide that they want to play The Mummy. I don’t mind the roller coaster part but I do mind the statues, and the scary thing that they decorate the rides with. 

When I decide to chicken out and wait instead, suddenly Aiden grab my hand and pull me close to him

“You know that I’m a coward with this kind of rides, can you accompany me and sit beside me so that I’m not scared?”

I remember looking at him confused because clearly, right now, I am more scared than him, but he give me this crooked smile. It’s really warm. And sweet. I remember my heart starts to beat really fast and I can feel the funny feelings again in my stomach. 

“But I am more scared than you, I mean I can’t even bear to wait in line with all those scary statues and image” 

“Well you have me. I’ll stay right beside you, but you have to promise me that you will sit with me on the ride and you will not laugh whenever I got scared”

I nod at him and just let him grab me by the hand and lead me inside. The whole hour in that waiting line, he let me grab on to him. And even in the rides, he cover my eyes whenever there’s something scary or nasty are going to show up despite he, himself not enjoying the ride at all.

At that moment, I realize that I do fall in love with him. 

Holiday ends, and school starts. I save all of my memories of him in my phone. We even befriending each other on Facebook. I enter Junior High and finally I can saw him more often (elementary and junior have a different lunch break schedule). And the fact that whenever we passes each other, he will either give me a pat on my head or a high five. We become more closer each day, he even teach me how to play guitar at some point. And even though we are close, I have no intention of confessing to him. Since I already enjoy spending my time with him like that.

Then Valentine Day come. He come for me and asked for my help. Turns out he like this senior, let’s call her Nova. She is a beauty indeed. I can feel a pang in y heart when he said that he really likes her. I told him that maybe he should buy her flowers and chocolate, I mean, that’s what I know from all the manga I read. He said thanks and do exactly that. But turns out that Aiden is not her type. And she throw it away when he gives the flowers and chocolate to her. He told me later at the same day and gives me the chocolate that Nova throw away. I’m sad for him and at that time I remember hating Nova since she treat him that way.

I can only smile and hear him ranting about how he feels about Nova and her boyfriend that apparently is a jerk. A few months after that, I don’t really have any meaningful moments with Aiden because I got busy with my friends and clubs. I don’t know why but after so long, I decide to share my feelings with my group of friends, and oh boy how that was one of my biggest mistake I ever made. 

The next day, somehow the whole school knows that I have feelings for Aiden. I am really shocked. Apparently one of my friend decide to tell her boyfriend and her boyfriend tell his friends and yada yada yada you know how it goes.

And Aiden also knows. I remember feeling heartbroken when He saw me at the corridors and decide to turn and walk away from me instead of giving me high five or a pat. And I remember Aaron can only give me a sad smile and follow him. 

After that he avoid me at all cost like I’m some kind of a virus. I got really sad and kind of depressed at that time. But I try to understand him. I mean, I’m not really girlfriend material you know. 

But suddenly one day Aaron visit me in my classroom. I am confused but I decide to just talk to him to see what he need.

“I come here to apologize about Aiden. He did not mean any harm, but he’s just confused and embarrassed. He is mad at himself because he did not know that you like him and he feels like he lead you on. He is also mad that he choose to tell you about Nova without knowing how you feel”

I just keep silent the whole time and nod a little. I remember saying that it’s okay and I understand his perspective. I’m just sad that He avoid me. I don’t expect him to like me the same way, but him avoiding me is too much for me. 

I also remember Aaron gives me a smile and a pat on my head and walk away. And at that very moment I feel like I want to cry but I can’t. All I can do is stare at his back. Aaron looks too much like Aiden and the fact that he is the one that apologize to me instead of Aiden hurt more. Because then I can’t meet Aiden.

I still like him even tho my second year in Junior High I move to another city, to my mom hometown.  I still like him until I finally fall in love with someone else in High School (11th grade).

But I do meet him once back in high school. And I remember the funny feeling is still there. And we kind of have this awkward handshake and smile. We don’t really talk. We just, smile and share a little chit chat here and there about university. He told me that Aaron and him plans to go to America to study. I just wish him luck and pray inside my heart to wish him all the best.

Even though it is not really a happy ending but I do learn a lot from my first experience with love. 

I remember wishing that I can tell him my feelings myself instead of him knowing from someone else. And I do practice this because after that every time I like someone or have feelings for them I tell them.

I also learn that sometimes someone come into your life just to teach you and introduce you to love and that is not a bad thing.

[istanrogertaylor-blog]

Summer at Ridge Farm: Chapter 1 (Roger Taylor fan fiction)

Word count: 1089 Warnings: alcohol, language Story is set in Rusper, England (Ridge farm album recording)

July 5th, 1975 

I woke up as my alarm clock rang, I turned it off while cursing it and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. The clock read 5:30, and as I realized it was Thursday I smiled, as it meant only one more day of work before the weekend. I hopped in the shower, put on my favourite jean dress that fell nicely over my curves, and tried to brush my dark, straight hair into a decent do. I'd just cut it shorter, shoulder length with bangs, and still wasn't sure if I was feeling it. My thoughts ran back the end of my last semester at uni. As it ended, I realized it was time for a change before heading home to work for the summer. The last time I'd been home, things had been quite different, and I felt the need to look different too. I was still with my high school boyfriend back then and honestly it had been a relief to end it. I knew I belonged in London where I went to uni, and I didn't need anyone from back home in the small town of Rusper to hold me back. However, I had to admit that it felt nice to be back home for the summer, even though my parents and younger brother had left me alone in the house as they'd gone on vacation. I still had to work for another couple of weeks, but didn't mind it at all. I snapped out of my thoughts and cursed the clock, realising I'd be late. Again. I put some mascara on to try and look more awake, without much luck. My normally big, brown eyes looked tiny and sleepy.

I grabbed my bookbag, some breakfast on the go and threw myself on the bike. At 6:31, I opened the door to the lovely office of Rusper Daily and cheered my co-workers; one minute late to work, and the last person to arrive as always. I found my way to my desk which I shared with my childhood bestie Marion, and poured myself a large coffee before starting on todays assignments. Not much had happened since yesterday, but luckily for us, our readers were interested in national features as well as local news.

- "Hey Karen", Marion nudged me in the side to get my attention. "Let's go to the pub tonight. I know you haven't wanted to go there in case you'll run into... Peter, y'know. But come on! Just one glass. There's this really cute bartender..."

- "All right, all right" I said, stopping her, knowing she'd never stop nagging if I didn't come. "But only one glass, we still have work early tomorrow!" At least I was home alone, so no one would be pestering me for how irresponsible I was, going out on a work night...

- "Sure thing, granny" She winked at me, before I continued today's article.

Luckily for me, my boss let me in charge of some of the bigger articles thanks to my degree in journalism and modern literature. As I continued the final touches of an interview with the mayor I'd been assigned to look over, my thoughts went back to my ex-boyfriend. I actually hadn't seen him for almost an entire year now, and honestly, I dreaded the moment when I would, as it is inevitable in a small town. But, I was the one who ended it and I didn't regret it, all though I had been painfully single in the last year. Being too occupied with my studies, I didn't really find time to date, even with all the cute boys around in the capital. "Well, well, better luck next year..." I thought to myself as I finished the article.

***

As we started work early the following day, we'd decided to meet early at the pub so that we'd leave early as well. We both knew that wouldn't happen, and I already dreaded tomorrows hangover and lack of sleep. Little did I know who I'd run into in a few hours...

I quickly made myself a little dinner, all though my appetite wasn't exactly there I was quite nervous to go out. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd gone to the local pub back home. Marion called to say she was on her way over, and I poured myself another glass of wine as I freshened up my make-up. I left my jean dress on and chugged the rest of my wine when I heard a familiar knock on the door. I checked the mirror once more before running downstairs, feeling confident. The dress fell emphasised the curves that I used to hate when I was younger and my skin had bronzed a bit from the beautiful weather we had been treated so far. I grabbed my purse and keys and joined my friend as we walked to the bar just a few minutes away. Marion looked wonderful in a leather skirt, and I'd always envied her thick, blonde hair. On our way down, we passed Ridge Farm who was known to host many famous bands and artists. I used to visit the farm as a child as it used to house plenty of animals, before it was turned into a recording studio. I wondered if anybody I knew of was staying there now...

A few minutes later, we entered the Stars Inn, which was already quite crowded for a calm summer night. We sat down by the bar rather than at a table, so that Marion could have a go at her dreamy bartender.

- "I'm sure he has a cute friend for you as well, Karen" She blinked at me.

- "Not interested, but thanks anyways" I laughed back at her, quickly straightening up as who I understood to be the cute bartender was coming to take our orders.

- "Cheers, Marion. Lovely to see you again! Now what can I get you two ladies?" He asked us.

After Marion introduced us, he poured our drinks as I cheekily and discretely gave Marion my approval of her hunky bartender, who was tall, dark and bearded. Quite exotic! For about an hour, we chit-chatted while sipping on our beers, talking rubbish and flirting with the bartender. My worries about work, ex-boyfriends and loneliness suddenly flew away as I realized that this was exactly what I needed.

[teacherintransition]

Things Experienced in A Coffee Shop

The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I find myself most productive, when trying to be a writer, in a local coffee shop. There is a quiet yet laid back industriousness that inspires. Everyone keeps their own counsel when having coffee in the morning or keeps to their table of friends. To create… to write, there is no better place to do so while drinking coffee with your head down a distant separation from the events occurring just around you. Coffee shops are also perfect for deep, intellectual banter amongst intellectuals and pseudo intellectuals; but that’s not the topic here, here we will analyze the events happening around a person focused on a solitary task. No matter the focus, distractions abound.

Since becoming a “teacher in transition” five places have served to be my creative driven, caffeine fueled sanctum. All had their unique charms and their unique peccadilloes that became muse or became distraction. Before I proceed, that masterfully, brewed artisan coffee is a must; this goes without saying, but I said it.

The Nine Flags Coffee Roasters presented a sublime variety of coffees that all too often took control of discussion. Their coffee was ….magnificent without compare to an aspiring coffee aficionado/snob..; the surroundings…quaint. Not very effective for the introspective writer; there were too many patrons that liked to stir things up, squeeze your shoes, break balls. A few fine fellows loved to hear themselves talk and I felt obliged retort with the searing logic of my razor sharp wit. The layman might call this a bunch of smart asses that won’t shut up, maybe ….uh yeah, spot on I admit. Who can write with all that going on?

La Biblioteca coffee was a great place to get things done. One drank from an eclectic list of coffees, teas, lattes, smoothies and the like in the outside environs. And, when the weather was nice, there was no place better. Great conversation was also to be had and with a set of regulars. The dilemma here for the ambitious writer was that La Biblioteca operated out of a food truck and the location would change with frustrating regularity. How can a “writer” function under such constant interruptions?

The next place I sought to be the launch pad of my writing endeavors was a place that I use a pseudonym to identify… Coffee Carls. The place was local, well liked, had become an institution for college kids and hipsters. I found it not to be a place to fire the furnace of ideas…IMO, way too much traffic and average coffee. They did have killer breakfast sandwiches.

My current location for pursuing the written word is Paradise…uh… the name is Paradise Coffee and Bistro. It’s pretty damn close to paradise. Great coffee, super friendly staff, lots of sunshine, comfy sitting chairs… and folks let you write. It’s on the square in our current location so it does get a lot of foot traffic at breakfast and lunch time. There is no college nearby so much of the conversation falls into the dreaded “chit chat” category. I would rather have my finger nails removed with pliers than to engage in mindless chit chat. “Just mind your business, why don’t cha?” you might chime in with unsolicited advice. I do … but it grates like, grates bad! When it gets too busy, I can move to the comfortable reading chairs with a cup of marvelous coffee and do my thing.

The last coffee house sanctuary would have to be the inner city artist haven, The Tamp and Grind. Incredibly great coffee and teas, charmingly friendly staff, designed to look like an abstract artists studio and library….and the great coffee of course. I managed to get a great deal of free spirited writing here; but mostly found myself getting ideas and people watching…a fabulous place for both. One could sit out in table and chairs on the sidewalk and see city life pass by. Very restful and engaging.

I miss this place tremendously.

Of course there is always the front porch. I personally know the coffee master, it’s filled with regulars that are easily distracted and bark often…that’s no good, but it is comfortable and familiar. So familiar at times, that I can often doze off while engaged in the writing task; you can’t have that. It’s best to be in an environment where the formation of ideas is as qualitative as the brew coming from the kitchen. I’ll be honest, it is very hard for me to write without a cup of coffee nearby, and nigh impossible to paint without a glass of wine or beer within reach. That my friend is another topic altogether. The perfect coffee shop will be a lifelong sojourn for the place where superb coffee and creative drive results in the great new writing of our generation. I’m certain that’s the only reason it hasn’t happened…

[choicesfanatic86]

TTS:  Part 5 (Liam x MC)

DISCLAIMER:  All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story.  Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS:  Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC SUMMARY:  Will Riley be able to handle the flood of emotions from returning to The Beaumont Estate? TAGS:  @herladyshipxx @theroyalweisme @blackcatkita @devineinterventions2 @hopefulmoonobject @captainkingliam @pbchoicesobsessed @queencatherynerhys @mfackenthal @cocomaxley @crayziimaginations @grapefrults @pessimystic-fangirl

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know, and I can update you :)

If you are new to the series and would like to catch up by reading previous parts, please check out my master fan fiction listing.  CATCH UP HERE

Thank you all for the wonderful comments and reblogs. <3 you guys are amazing! I wanted to get this chapter out for you guys, so answering comments/questions took a bit of a back seat today.  I’m so sorry, but I promise I will answer your questions soon.  :) I really hope that you enjoy the next part of Through The Storm.  Part 6 (and maybe Part 7) will likely be released on Thursday. :D Enjoy!!! <3

PART 5:  Unspoken

Riley and Andy wandered through the bustling airport trying to make their way out to the front.  Andy’s pace was quick, hurried even.  Riley’s pace, on the other hand, was much slower, hesitant of being back in Cordonia.   Riley could see the awe and excitement in Andy’s eyes.  After all, she was once in Andy’s shoes.  There was so much for her to take in – a whole new country filled with beautiful new sights, interesting people, and views that she probably had only seen before in pictures.  The old Riley would have probably been excited for her friend.  The old Riley would have relished in showing her around Cordonia, pointing out all of the country’s little secrets.  Instead, all she felt were the butterflies that were making her stomach flip.  She was so composed throughout the flight, but as soon as she had stepped off the plane, an uncomfortable sense of dread hung over her like a rain cloud.  Things had suddenly become very real.  There was no turning back now.

When they finally reached the outside of the airport, Riley began to look around.  Maxwell had said he would arrange for a limo to pick them up when they landed.  It hadn’t dawned on her that there would be a handful of other limos waiting for their fares as well.  

“How are we getting to your friend’s house?”  Andy asked.

“Maxwell said he was going to have a limo pick us up,” Riley replied.  “I just don’t know which of these are ours, “she sighed.

“Hmm,” Andy murmured, her attention shifting to the long row of cars waiting for their fares.  “That shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out in a sea of black limos,” she said sarcastically.

Riley was getting ready to pull out her phone to call Maxwell, when she heard someone shouting her name frantically.

“RILEY!  RILEY!  OVER HERE,” the voice yelled.

“Please tell me that’s not our ride,” Andy whispered.

Riley smirked at Andy.  She grinned widely when she saw that the voice belonged to Maxwell.  He had a sign with him.  Written across the large poster board were bright, colorful letters that spelt out his pet name for her – “LITTLE BLOSSOM.”     When she saw Maxwell, she grabbed Andy’s hand to pull her along, walking toward him.  Maxwell returned her smile when he realized she had seen him, and he instantly ran over to her.  He hugged her so tightly she thought he just might have made her burst.  He swung her around in a circle, so ecstatic to finally see her after all these years. He reluctantly let her go when he realized he had been crushing her shoulders.  He hadn’t changed at all.  She knew as much from their short correspondence before her arrival, but seeing him in front of her, she knew he was the exact same Maxwell she had left two years prior.  He still had his boyish good looks, and he still was as high strung as ever.  He took a step back to get a better look at her.  “Little Blossom, you are a sight for sore eyes. “  If possible, his smile grew even bigger as he looked her up and down.  “And as always, you look perfectly stunning.”

Riley blushed at the compliment.  “I find that hard to believe, Maxwell.  I’ve been on a flight for 8 hours.  I’m sure I must look like a zombie.”

“Well, a little, but you’re still stunning as a zombie.”  He reached for her embrace again, holding a bit tighter than the previous hug.

His attention shifted to Andy who was patiently watching the two long lost friends reunite.  

“Why, hello there.”  He greeted.  “You must be my Little Blossom’s friend. “  

He reached for her hand.  Andy tentatively placed her hand in his assuming that they’d follow typical social protocol and shake her hand.  Maxwell, however lifted her hand to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, catching Andy a bit off guard.

“My name is Maxwell Beaumont, and I’m charmed to make your acquaintance.  Any friend of my Little Blossom here is already a dear friend of mine.”  He smiled brightly at her, awaiting her introduction.

“Um, likewise,” Andy looked to Riley, blushing slightly from his formal introduction.  “I’m Andy,” she replied.

“Andy?  Short for anything?”  He asked.

Andy shook her head fervently.  “No, just plain ‘ole Andy.”  She smiled.  “My parents were sort of rebels and wanted to name me something unisex.”

He nodded.  “Well, Andy, shortened or not it’s a very lovely name.”  He eyed the four bags of luggage they shared between them.  “Oh my, I thought you were staying for a few weeks not a few months,” he joked.

Riley punched him lightly on the shoulder.  “Us girls have to be prepared.  You never know what you’ll need when you’re in a foreign country.”

Maxwell motioned for the limo at the farthest corner of the airport’s pick up area to pull forward.  “Let’s get these into the car so that we can head out.  I doubt the security guard there appreciates us taking up valuable pick up and drop off space.”  He jutted his head toward an angry looking security guard who was pointedly waiting for us to move.

“Right then, Maxwell.  Let’s get going.”  She and Andy started to grab their suitcases when she suddenly felt Maxwell’s hand cover hers.

“Don’t move a muscle, Little Blossom.  You’re under the care of House Beaumont now.  You won’t lift a single finger while you’re here.”

Riley chuckled.  “Oh, Maxwell.”

Andy smirked.  “So, I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Maxwell reddened slightly as he and their driver began to load their luggage into the back of the town car.    The ride to Beaumont Manor was filled with idle chit chat amongst the trio, mostly giving Maxwell some background about their lives in New York and how they met.  Riley had talked about her career, their apartment, how she and Andy met, and of course, she briefly mentioned seeing Paul.  She decided not to go into too much detail just yet as she saw Maxwell shift uncomfortably in his seat at the mention that she was seeing someone.  She knew it had to be hard for him to hear considering his loyalty would always remain with him, but she had hoped, with time, he’d be happy that she was happy.  A part from that single moment of unease, Riley was thankful that things weren’t as awkward as she had anticipated them being.  She was also thankful that Andy and Maxwell seemed to be hitting it off.  She couldn’t imagine a happier feeling than seeing her two best friends becoming friends with one another.

The conversation naturally shifted to talk of the upcoming wedding and how all of House Beaumont was wrapped up in wedding preparations.  Maxwell had explained to both women that they were welcome to attend the various events leading up to the ceremony and reception.  

“Savannah said I couldn’t break dance at the wedding.”  He sighed dramatically.  “I had choreographed a very romantic number as a gift to give them on their wedding day.  Drake had to spoil all the fun and ruin the surprise,” he rolled his eyes.

“Is he serious?”  Andy whispered, side-eying Maxwell.

Riley nodded enthusiastically.  “Oh yes, he’s as serious as a heart attack.”

“The art of break dancing is lost on so many,” he shook his head sadly.  “I guess I’ll have to work it into one of the pre-wedding  parties.”

Andy arched her eyebrows.  “Pre-wedding parties?  Like the bridal shower?”

Maxwell shook his head.  “Oh, there are so many more pre-wedding parties than just the bridal shower.”

Maxwell went on to discuss Cordonia’s wedding traditions and explained that because so many people travel so far to celebrate a new marriage, the betrothed couple turns their wedding celebration into a mini-social season with numerous events leading up to the big day.  Andy seemed intrigued and excited at the thought of it all, but for Riley it left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach.  The idea of going through something similar to a social season made her feel sick to her stomach.  As if sensing the worry consuming her, Maxwell put a hand on Riley’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to go if you’re worried about seeing Liam,” he reassured her.

She recoiled from his touch, as she stared at him, a small gasp leaving her lips.  She hadn’t heard or said his name in two long years, and here she was back in Cordonia for not even two hours and the name she had worked so hard to keep unspoken flew out of Maxwell’s mouth so casually as if hearing it didn’t just stab her in the heart.  Then again, what did she expect?  He was the King for goodness sakes, not to mention one of Maxwell’s oldest, dearest friends.  How could she have avoided it really?

“Liam?”  Andy looked between Riley and Maxwell.  “Is that – “

“Yes.” Riley snipped.  “Can we not say his name again, please?”

Maxwell stunned from the sudden change in Riley’s demeanor, pulled his hand back, placing it awkwardly on his lap.  “Of course . . . I’m sorry.”  He looked dejected.  “I wasn’t thinking.”  An uncomfortable silence grew in the back of the limo.  Riley sank back into her shell.

Andy cleared her throat, looking to Maxwell.  “Are there any other wedding guests staying at the house, Maxwell?”

Maxwell gave Andy a small smile – a silent ‘thank you’ for the change in subject.  “Just Drake.  He’s Savannah’s brother, “he explained.  “Savannah wouldn’t have it any other way.  We’re neighbors in the East Wing, he and I.  I don’t think he’s too fond of the room assignments,” Maxwell shrugged.  

Riley nodded as Maxwell explained.  Drake and Maxwell’s friendship had always been a bit tumultuous.  Drake couldn’t be bothered with Maxwell’s inane antics, and Maxwell sometimes found Drake to be too much of a killjoy.  Of course, their friendship had to change and grow stronger because they were going to be family soon.  Riley could just picture Drake’s face when he found out Savannah and Bertrand were getting married and that not only was he getting a brother-in-law in Bertrand, he was getting Maxwell as a package deal.  She’s sure he probably drank a whole bottle of whisky when he realized that he and Maxwell would be together for better or worse.  Her mood couldn’t help but be lightened as she thought about it.

Riley was stirred from her thoughts as Andy rolled down the town car’s rear window.  “Is *that* your house?”  Andy turned to Maxwell, asking eagerly.

“Yes, in all her beauty and glory.  Welcome to the Beaumont Estate, my little blossoms.”  

The limo stopped in the main driveway, and Maxwell hopped out to start unloading their luggage.  Riley looked around the beautiful estate, remembering how happy she felt here.  She thought back to the Beaumont Bash when everything had gone terribly wrong, yet, together they were able to pull off one of the greatest parties in Beaumont history.  They were a family the three of them.  She hadn’t realized until that moment how much her time at the estate hat meant to her. “You live in a freaking mansion?” Andy exclaimed, taking in the sheer architectural beauty and design.

“Well . . . yes.  It’s been in our family for generations.  Beaumont House has a prestigious reputation for being one of the finer houses in Cordonia,” Maxwell stated proudly as he was guiding them to the front door.  

“You sound exactly like Bertrand,” Riley smiled.

“Well, he has trained me rather well,” Maxwell joked, opening the front door.

As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted with loud barking and tap-dancing little paws.  Riley gasped.  “Chance?”

The corgi barked happily to see Maxwell.  He hesitantly started to sniff Riley’s before he laid down in front of her looking to be rubbed.  Riley bent down to oblige him and give him a few good rubs and scratches behind his ears.  Riley looked up at Maxwell wide-eyed.  “You kept him?”

Maxwell nodded, grinning at the corgi.  “Of course.  I knew you were devastated that you couldn’t take him with you back to the states.  Bertrand threatened to disown me for about the thousandth time when I first brought him home, but he got over it.  He always does.  He’s Bertrand.  He’s not happy unless he’s griping bout something.  Plus, how can you stay mad at this adorable little face?”

Andy joined Riley on the ground to give Chance some attention.  “Whose face are you talking about?  Your’s or the dog’s?”

“Well, clearly I was talking about my own, but I suppose Chance’s face is just as adorable,” he laughed.  “Bertrand couldn’t refuse either of our adorable faces.”

“Speaking of Bertrand, where is he?”  Riley looked around the vastly empty foyer.  “I thought he’d be here to greet us.”  Satisfied with his rubs, Chance wandered off toward the other side of the house.

“Not today I’m afraid.  I think Bertrand took Savannah, Bartie and Drake out as a sort of distraction”  He shyly looked at Riley.  “I think Bertrand arranged it that way to give you an opportunity to get settled in and not have to play a game of twenty questions with everyone once they realize you’re back.”  He paused.  “I haven’t told Drake you’re back yet.  I probably should have as soon as you said you’d be coming considering he’s staying here, too.”  Maxwell stopped himself.  “I was worried that if I told Drake, he’d tell Li-“  He paused.  “You know who.”

Riley nodded, thinking about what he had just said.  She hadn’t even thought that Drake staying here at the same time as her would pose a problem.  She was definitely worried about seeing him again, but she hadn’t even thought about the implication that he could tell him that she was here.   “I appreciate that, Maxwell.  I truly do.”  She half-smiled.

“So, I don’t know about you, but I am totally jetlagged.  You think we can drop our stuff off in our room and settle down for the night?” Andy asked.  “I’m sorry to be a party pooper but I’m still on New York time.”

“Of course.  I should have taken you both to your rooms straight away.  Riley,” he questioned, “you remember how to get to your old room right?”  

“I think so,” she smiled

“Excellent, why don’t you go on and get settled in while I give Andy a quick tour of the house.”

Riley nodded.  “Sure.  I could use a nice warm shower and some shut eye.”  She reached for Maxwell’s hand giving it a gentle squeeze.  “Sorry about earlier in the limo . . . as you can tell . . . he’s still a touchy subject for me.”

Maxwell held his hand up and shook his head.  “You don’t have to apologize for anything.  It’s going to take some time getting used to things with you two a part.  I know you don’t like talking about him, so I’m going to do my best to respect your wishes.”  He smiled at her.  “Now, off to bed with you!”

Riley walked up the grand staircase.  The path to her room was second nature to her.  Even though she has been gone for two years, it’s as if her body memorized every step she took in this house.  Once in her room in the West Wing, she dropped her luggage onto the floor.  She unzipped one of the suitcases looking for her PJs.  A warm shower was something she had been longing for since she stepped off the plane, closely followed by a good sleep in her king-sized bed.

After she had showered, she was changing into her PJs when she heard a soft knocking at her bedroom door.  “Just a second,” she yelled.  She threw her PJs on quickly, wrapping herself in a bathrobe as she headed to the door.  “I promise I’m going to bed, Maxwell.  You don’t need to coddle me,” Riley said loudly as she swung the door open.  Her smile faded quickly as she realized that it wasn’t Maxwell knocking on her door.

“Lawson.”  

Riley could feel a knot form in her throat.  She pulled her bathrobe tightly to her body.  She felt her legs start to feel wobbly, gripping the doorframe to steady herself.

“Hi, Drake,” she whispered.

[echoofheartbeats]

It's my last night living in Eugene. I can't help but make this feel a little dramatic in my writing voice, but this has been my 2nd home for 4 years. That's a long time but also a blink of an eye. Time is insane, as life is too. I've has a busier more kick butt day than envisioned, but it's been a good last day in Eugene. Woke up and got ready to go clean the ceramic studio from 1-3pm. Really didn't want to be in a plaster and clay crusted room with too many people and not enough air flow, but I got through it. Walked back to the apartment to grab some ceramic pieces I wanted to give a friend, and so I ate a very quick yogurt, granola, and gold fish lunch and booked it out the door again. Visited her office for a good amount of time which was nice and then returned home again, chit chatted with the roomie and then got ready to go out to McMenamins and Prince Puckler's with a friend. With the two friends I saw today we chatted about how crazy time has gone, college, jobs, life. What has really stuck with me for the rest of the day was, "I wonder where we'll all be in 3 months?" - I wonder what another 4 years will bring. So much. I returned home with a full belly, very tired and dreading the fact I needed to pack up more. I rested for about an hour and half until I started playing my music and powering through what I needed to get done, took me about 2 hours. Now I'm finally laying in bed, pretty exhausted, legs aching, me realizing exactly how much walking/standing/work I did today - I call it an accomplishment. It hasn't quite hit me what no more school and graduation and moving out all means. I'm sure reality and all the emotions that come with it will slap me in the face soon. Currently I'm a weird mix of bittersweet on autopilot, not 100% able to feel in the moment cause there's something else around the corner and I'm too bewildered at everything that has happened in my past. I'm finally going back to my roots, I'm able to have a steady home for a while now. I can pretty much make my own decision when I want to move again. At least school won't be the contributing factor this time. I don't think I do very well with transitions and change. They kind of consume my thoughts. On one hand I know change is good and I should welcome it, but it's definitely difficult. I'm looking forward to the unknown that's ahead of me but also afraid to figure out what that is, especially since there's a lot of important decisions on the way. One step at a time. I'm excited to see my family tomorrow. I'm honestly remembering my move in day to the dorms freshman year and how difficult it was for me. This is where I am now. Moving out of the town I've made new friends and moving out of the town I've dealt with some of the hardest things but learned the most. It's a very overwhelming feeling to be where I am in life. I'm hoping this upcoming week will be a good organizational period to make me feel more stable and comfortable and to just overall keep figuring shit out. It's been quite a day. Time for me to end that day and wake up tomorrow morning and start a new one. Sco ducks Xoxo