#I know it's exhaustion cuz I just had a long weekend and 5 hours of sleep

[bear-cubs-art-things]

I am so tired that I don't feel like my peppy self

[damnatareginadamnatorum]

Yall, I had my baby over the weekend, and she is the darnedest cutest little bug ever ever ever.

It was a whole thing tho. I tried to do it sans pain meds because I am... tbh... just crazy...

I managed about 21/22 hours without meds... but then I had to get that epidural. And I don't know if I could have made it without it. Cuz by the time I even asked for it, i was certain that if things kept going I was just going to pass out. I wanted to just give up and pass out too. It wasn't just that I thought it would happen, I was praying for it.

And because she took so long to get here even after that, I dont know how well I'd have been able to push when it came time had I not asked for it. Cuz I would nooooot have been able to sleep and rest like I could with that epidural.

Speaking of pushing, thankfully I only had to push through 5 contractions in total to get her here. On that fifth set, her head popped out on that 3rd push. And then I was like oh thank God I can rest for a second and there's relief, hallelujah. But then the doctor said come on come on keep going, and I didn't even take a breath, I just went for it and then she was here.

It was amazing. I am ecstatic to have her. And I would, in spite of all the pain, the migraines I had during the 2nd trimester, the nausea, the exhaustion, and the post partum readjusting to using my bladder cuz that control is gooooone, I would absolutely do this a million times again just to get to hold my whole world.

[dayseternal-blog]

A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other.

Written for NaruHina 2020 August - Cultures/Around the World

Rated G

Inspired by “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery (emmykay)

Here we go, a story I've worked on since November of last year. Despite the months of creation, this story is simply boy meets girl. This one is close to my heart, and I've second-guessed posting it.

It's loosely based on my parents' high school stories and how they met, and the experiences from many recorded accounts of people from that generation, the 1970s. I wrote this mostly with the intention of diving into and imagining their time period.

Finally completed, of course it’s late for August, in true spirit, I stay on island time.  This story is titled after “About You” by Cecilio & Kapono, a 1975 Hawaiian pop classic.  

One Shot - About You

The bus bumps and lurches on the potholes.

She notes when they pass by a friend’s house, lit only by the dim orange street lamps over dark driveways.  There are so few cars out on the road that every time the bus pulls over and the door opens, she can hear the high-pitched hum of crickets in the grass.  It’s all a familiar rhythm that might have put her to sleep on any other night.  But she already took a long nap, readying her internal clock for the new schedule.

She’ll be taking this route for the rest of the summer, heading from the bus stop next to the local library straight to the cannery.

It feels alright, better than she was expecting.  She was worried it would feel lonely--her friends are all working the cannery, too, but in the daytime.  She wanted the extra nickel the night shift earns, bringing her up to $1.40 per hour.  

She’s always thinking ahead--the more money she manages to save now for business college, the less she will need to work later.

The bus slows down to a stop, picking up probably the last passenger before it gets on the freeway straight to town.

She relaxes into her seat, settling in for the drive out of the suburbs.

“Hinata?”

That’s weird that someone would know her at this hour.

She turns her face away from the window and sees him standing in the aisle, as if he was about to sit down in the row in front of her.  “N-Naruto?”  She regrets her stutter.  She just wasn’t expecting to see him.  At all.  

“Hey!  Howzit?”  He looks genuinely surprised to see her, too.

“Good...”  She returns his bright grin with a shy smile of her own.  She tucks a lock of loose hair behind her ear.  “I’m heading to the cannery.”

“You working cannery, too?”

“Yeah...are you?”

“Yup.  Gotta make dat extra nickel, yeah?”  He smiles disarmingly as she nods, and he takes a seat.  

She wants to relax.  But she can’t.

Because it’s him.

All 5 feet 9 inches of beautiful boy sitting in front of her on a relatively empty bus.  He’s taller than the average local Japanese, due to his hapa blood.  And as if height wasn’t enough to make him attractive to all the girls, he’s funny.  And clever.  Athletic and nice.  A little rascal, but that only increases his charm.  She has so much adrenaline pumping through her from that one tiny conversation, she knows she’ll be exhausted before they even get to Honolulu Harbor.

-

The forewoman, a middle-aged Portuguese lady, takes her and another girl named Tenten to the lockers.  “Wear dis.”  She passes them a white apron and hairnet.  “You girls get gloves?”

They both nod, pulling out their plastic gloves, required in the job description.

The lady glances at the gloves, bored expression unchanging.  “Follow.”

Hinata tucks all of her hair up into the net, and she knows she probably looks like an enoki mushroom, dressed now all in white.

They follow the forewoman to the assembly floor.

“Here.”  She hands them knives with the same carelessness of someone who’s been doing this for ages.  “Take all da extra skin off cuz da machine no get ‘m all, look, but gotta do ‘m fas’ kine ah.  No let da pines go down widdout cleaning ‘m,” she explains, pointing and waving at the conveyor belt.  

Hinata nods.  Four girls stand silently before a machine that’s spitting out bright yellow, skinned pineapples.  They grab at them quickly, and then with practiced flicks of their wrist, they nick off the remaining bits into slots for the rubbish.  They put the pineapples back down on the belt, where the fruit runs along to another set of girls, who give them another checkover.  Further down, the fruit runs into a machine with circling blades that chop them into slices.  

Rows and rows of young women dressed in white aprons with mushroom-netted heads stand around conveyors and machines.  

Young men cross over the upper ladders and walkways carrying pineapples to dump into the machines and sticks to poke at the fruit in the chutes to prevent jamming.  

The smell of pineapples is pervasive, sickly in its sweetness.

Not too much later, a bell shrills throughout the warehouse, and she’s taking over for a girl who’s now off-duty.  She grabs at the pineapples, turning the weighty fruit over in her palm and cutting brown spots of skin off with the knife as quickly as she can.  Droplets of pineapple juice stick to her gloves, and soon enough, the juice is dripping down the latex.

She’s not thankful for the gloves for long.

The juice runs down, and every stretch of her arm to grab at the fruit or place it back down feels sticky in the crook of her elbow.

Minutes turn into hours of watching pineapples.

She has no idea how the world eats so many pineapples.  

How is it possible that people love pineapples this much?  That the machinery is rarely turned off?  That all of the state’s teenagers are employed every summer to work the fields and machines practically 24/7?  

As unfathomable as it is, she finds a strange awe for the tropical fruit that she never had before.  To pass the time as she trims the skin, she imagines where these pineapples are going.  Who’s going to buy these pineapples.  What country they’ll end up in and what language the people speak there.  And whether they have ever seen a whole pineapple before.

But then again, maybe they’re all just going to the Mainland.  Women who look like the movie stars with perfectly curled, blonde hair will open the cans for their families.

The bell rings, the machines stop.

They have 30 minutes.

The more veteran workers zip off to the lunchroom, not waiting for anyone.

Hinata smiles tiredly at Tenten.  

“Whew,” the Chinese girl sighs.

Hinata nods in agreement.  “I never seen so many pineapples before, I think.”

“Yeah, me, neither.”  Her brows raise to emphasize the point.

-

By the time they get off at 6 in the morning, dawn is breaking, traffic is slowly building along Nimitz Highway, and she knows she must absolutely stink of pineapples.

But Naruto waves and stands beside her as they wait for the bus, as if he doesn’t care.  Maybe he can’t smell her, desensitized now after so long in the warehouse.  “Morning, Hinata,” he laughs, and the joke is not lost on her.  

She smiles weakly, only his good attitude motivating her.  “Good morning,” she manages to reply.  She’s too exhausted to feel shy about standing beside her crush.  After all, she was standing for the last several hours.  All she wants is to sit down.

“How wuz it?” he asks conversationally.

She pinches her lips into a tight frown.  “I had to trim the pines at the ginaca.”  She gestures halfheartedly with her hands, showing him the flick of an imaginary knife she used.  All night.  She’s almost certain that she’s the machine now.  “What did you do?”

“Oh, wuz pretty neat!  I jus’ had to keep da cans moving on da belt an’ stick da lids inside da kine, machine, and then the cans pop out.  I did da tops.”

She blinks at him.  Forces a weak smile out that she barely feels in her heart.  Sounds easy…  But that’s to be expected, after all, women usually handle food anyway.

“No can wait fo’ sit down, yeah!” he laughs.  He doesn’t sound tired, but it occurs to her that maybe he never does.  His natural excitement is what makes him popular in the first place.

She nods.

When the bus pulls up to the curb, Naruto lets her get on in front of him.

The bus driver pulls a face as she pays.

She frowns, a hot blush spreading over her cheeks.  She tried to clean up as best she could after her shift, but apparently, it really was all for naught.

“Go in da back!” the driver directs, none too friendly.

She does so, even though the front seats aren’t full.

Naruto laughs outright as he pays, unashamed at his own stink.  “What, uncle, wen try fo’ wash off, still stay pilau?”

“Eesh,” the driver utters in response to the teen’s cheekiness.

She doesn’t know how he’s not embarrassed, nor how he’s able to talk back to strangers like it’s nothing.  It’s just another case in point of her admiration and curiosity of him.  She picks an aisle-facing seat, and, to her surprise, Naruto sits right next to her, his knees spreading open.

She’s not as tired as she thought.

Nerves race up her legs.  She stares at her hands, which she carefully places on her knees, which are closely pressed together as ladylike as possible.  Not a single part of her touches him.  She thinks she might die if their legs touch.

And that’s how she doesn’t doze off on the long ride back home.

-

He meant to brag to his friends about working graveyard shift when he saw them that first weekend.  Sure, the hours are junk, but, Ho, should see da chicks!

Particularly the one he rides the bus with.  Hinata Hyuuga.  A small, Japanese girl.  Brains and looks.  Not to mention her unusual, light eyes, making you question her race.  But, nah, no real question about it, she’s Japanese through and through with her shy, quiet manner.  She’s someone he imagines could win the Cherry Blossom Festival pageant with her smooth skin and round eyes.  He and the guys always steal a poster of the new year’s contestants from the supermarket window.  Pictures of pretty Japanese girls’ profiles all lined up, free to admire.  She could definitely win.  If she ever tried.  But she’s not very personable.

Not that that ever stopped him from talking to whoever he wants to talk to.

Yet he ended up not mentioning anything about Hinata to his friends.  Not the next week, either.

Somehow, she just comes off as out-of-his-league.  At least, he’s certain that’s what his friends would say.  Just mentioning her would probably earn him jokes.  He’s pretty sure she’s in all the high, smart classes.  But he doesn’t know much about that--and she’s a year younger than him.  He only knows her because his social club had a gathering with hers last year, invited by Sakura.  There’re lots of pretty girls in that social club, and, unusually, it has girls over two grade levels.  Just the younger girls didn’t catch his attention last year.

Needless to say, he’s thinking about her now.

Not much else to think about while he drops lids into the machine.  It’s monotonous work, but he knows now that his job is way, way better than Hinata’s.

-Two weeks ago-

His jaw dropped when he saw her on the bus the second night.

She had covered her arms self-consciously with her hands when he got on.

Of course, that action was what drew his attention.

Bright.  Red.  Streaks and bumps.  A rash.  Mottling her fair skin in the crook of her elbows to the middle of her forearms.  Both sides.

“From da pines?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded, her eyes turning down, as if somehow the rash was a personal fault.  

He looked away, realizing his staring was only making her feel worse.  “You have da kine..sensitive skin?”  He wondered belatedly if talking about it would only make her feel worse worse.

“Umm...yeah…”  Her voice sounded even quieter than her usual.

He frowned awkwardly, though she didn’t see it.  He sat down beside her, still looking away.  “Jeez.  Das real junk.”  He swallowed back his strange feeling of guilt.  Her pain wasn’t his fault.  Her job placement wasn’t his fault.  So why did he feel like he was partially responsible...?  “Uh, dere anyting fo’ do about it?”  He suddenly felt like cringing at the sound of his own pidgin.  His heavy speech just further emphasized his upbringing compared to hers.  Someone classy like her shouldn’t be doing a job like that, right?  “‘Cuz like, can only get worse, yeah?  You get medicine fo’ put on or someting?”  He couldn’t help jabbering on and on.  When he starts feeling uncomfortable, that’s just what happens.

Thankfully, she continued the conversation.  “Mhm.  I saw yesterday some of th’ other workers wuz wearing two gloves.”  She opened her purse and pulled out a pair.  The hands were cut off.  “Like this, see?”  She pulled the glove on over her elbow like a sleeve, then pulled another, uncut one on so that they overlapped on her forearm.  

“Ho, neat idea, yeah?”  He nodded in approval.

She smiled in response.  “The juice no can get inside, I think, yeah?”

“Yeah!” he emphasized.

She smiled a little more, obviously not embarrassed anymore by her arms.

And he felt proud of himself for getting them out of that uncomfortable start to the bus ride.  Felt oddly self-satisfied that he got her to smile.  Decided right then and there that he was pretty interested in her.

But he hasn’t really made a move, yet.  The thought that she might turn him down is there.  He’s been turned down enough times that rejection isn’t really what’s bugging him.  It’s that she never seems to be in a good mood after their shift is done.  That, and he doesn’t want it to be uncomfortable for the rest of the summer in case she does reject him.  He would still have to catch the bus with her every night and morning.  Too bad his dad doesn’t let him take the car to work.  He gets it, though.  His dad needs the car to go to work.

Well, he’ll figure it out later.

The bell screams, signaling the start of their lunch break.

He joins a group of Farrington guys he befriended over the course of the two weeks.  There’re a lot of them working at the cannery, being that the high school is only a neighborhood away from the warehouse district.

“Eh, Naruto, you surf?” Omoi, a dark-skinned Filipino boy with sun-bleached ehu hair, asks.

“Yeah,” he answers, excitement bubbling.  But only on the weekends with Shikamaru and Choji.  He lives central, not at all close to the ocean, making beach trips longer than ideal.  “Why, whatchu thinking?”

A guy they call “C,” Naruto has no idea what it’s short for, leans forward.  “We go dawn patrol, Kewalo’s.”

Right after their shift, at the surf break at Kewalo Basin.  Sounds solid.  “Eh, shoots, we go!  Tomorrow den?”

“Yeah,” Omoi affirms.  “Prolly gon wash da pine stink off, yeah?”

C’s eyes widen at Omoi’s shoes, shaking his head.  “Eh, brah, I no tink so, you dripping pines ova hea, bet yo feet kill, phew!”

“You faka, you no can talk, da flies stay all buzzin’ ‘round you!” Omoi shoots back.

Naruto frowns, considering that Hinata has the same job as Omoi, one of the few guys assigned to a woman’s job.  Over the course of the job, Omoi’s shoes had soaked in pineapple juice that dripped from the cutting.  This didn’t seem to be as big a problem for Hinata, who, for some girly reason, wore sandals despite the long hours of standing.  “How come you no jus’ wea rubbah slippahs?”

Omoi shook his head with a serious expression.  “No can fo’ do dat brah.  I only get one good pair!  Already wen ruin deez shoes, no sense ruin my slippahs too.”

“Dis broke faka ova hea, he no get money fo’ buy one noddah pair from Long’s das why!” C laughs.

Naruto shakes his head, laughing out loud.  “No way you dat broke!”

Omoi turns to C, faux annoyance twisting his face.  “Eh dis haole ri’ hea like get lickins?”

Instead of looking threatened, C just humorously shoots back, “You like go, we go!”

“Go den, shoots we go,” Omoi answers, squaring up.

“Yeah den go cuz, shoots,” C threatens back.

But neither of them stand.

Naruto rolls his eyes at their idiotic banter.  Rarely is he the voice of reasoning, but he supposes it would be a different story if his school friends were here.  “Eh we go Kewalo’s shoots.”

They turn back to him, huge grins on.  “Yeah, we go!” Omoi says enthusiastically.

“Bring your board yeah?” C reminds him as the bell rings again.

“Yeah!”

He tells Hinata that he can’t go back with her the next day, and she just nods and smiles.  Tells him to have fun.

And it’s a slight relief to not worry about the ride back home with her.  He’s starting to feel like maybe she’s expecting him to ask her out since they spend so much time together.  Well, really, he’s expecting that of himself, but he just can’t right now.

She’s just not any other girl at school in these current circumstances.

-

Hinata never meant to be one of those girls.

One of those girls, picked up on a stretcher and taken to the medical room to recuperate.

But on the first day of her period, she was exactly one of those girls.

She was feeling so tired.  Legs like jelly.  Sore up her thighs.  Aches digging around her lower back.  A weighty twisting in her core.  A heavy day.  It made her feel lightheaded.

The pineapples, one after another, going by, making her feel a little dizzy, like maybe she needed to close her eyes.

Shutting her eyes for a second didn’t help.

A breath, two breaths, intentional breaths.

She felt like maybe she was going to make herself start hyperventilating, the opposite of what she wanted.  She wanted to breathe normally.

Focus on the pineapple.

It felt too heavy in her hand.

Her focus sliding off the pineapple, to the sticky yellow glint of the knife.  Back to the pineapple.

She looked up, dazed, her eyes taking too long to adjust to a point on the far wall.

“Hinata, you alright?” Tenten asked.

She tried to refocus on the girl on the opposite side of her.  She nodded, blinking, trying to concentrate on their job.

“You don’t look alright.”  Her voice was too loud, like everything else going on.

Too loud, pounding.

She closed her eyes, heat searing her temples.

-

“-nata?  Hinata?”

She slowly gains consciousness, to find Naruto looking down at her.

“You okay?  You wen faint dey said.”

“Oh,” she manages to utter, trying to get her bearings as the room and bed take shape in her mind, blinking away the dazed vestiges of sleep.  “W-what time is it?”

“Our shift only pau now.”

“Oh.”

“You feeling okay?”

She slowly sits up, nodding.  “Yeah.”  She must not have been out for that long.  She really thought she would make it to the end of the night.  “Were you waiting for me?” she asks, suddenly panicked at the realization that he is here with her.

“Ah, nah, nah.  I come in jus’ now.”  He gestures at the door.  “You weren’ out dere, so I jus’ wen ask somebahdy.  Dey said you wuz in hea.”

“Oh.”  That’s good that he wasn’t waiting for her to wake up, but, still, she never expected him to do something like this.  “You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs.  “No problem.  Ready fo’ go?  Can walk or..?”

She nods, scooching off the bed-like table.

And he walks with her to check-out with one of the heads, and then back to the bus stop.  Waits with her there.  And when it’s obvious that he’s going back with her despite the longboard he’s been holding this whole time, she haltingly brings it up.  “You not...going surfing?”

He shakes his head carelessly.  “Nah, I go tomorrow.”

She ducks her head, biting her lips.  “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, nah, waves not hitting today, so.”  He shrugs, looking past her for the bus.

Obviously an outright lie, but she accepts it over drawing out such an uncomfortable situation.

“You no feel good today?”  He sounds honestly concerned.

“Um, I felt fine earlier.”  Well, in truth, she felt okay.  The normal period cramps.  As okay as a heavy day can be.

“You not sick?”

She shakes her head.  She wants to sit down.  The bench has the older workers sitting down, so she never gets to sit until the bus comes.  She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve the weight from her hips and pelvis.

It’s such a relief when the bus comes.  She ignores the bus driver’s daily grimace and makes for the back row as quickly as she can.

He watches her sit down, audibly sigh, and her whole body kind of just melts into the stiff chair.  It’s obvious that out of all the days so far, she’s the most tired today.

Or has she been like this?  He just didn’t know because he’s been avoiding her in the mornings?

Ten minutes into the long ride, he’s thinking that it’s a good thing he’s going home with her today because…he thinks she’s falling asleep.  Her head keeps jerking in his peripheral vision, so he decides to stop being considerate and turn to look straight at her.

Her eyes are drooping heavily, she’s blinking really hard...she is falling asleep.  Or, trying really hard not to.

“Hinata.”

“Huh?”  Her eyes fly wide open, obviously forcing herself.

“Sleep, I go wake you up later.”

Her cheeks redden.  “Oh, no, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t trust him, or…what?  She’s embarrassed?

“You sure?”

She nods.  “Yeah.”  Her voice sounds too breathy to be fine, but if she says so...

It’s no surprise to him when her body starts slumping over, her head weighing the rest of her body down and toward the seats in front of them.

She’d be even more embarrassed about this position, right?  So he reaches over to grab both her shoulders and kind of push her back upright.

Well, that’s what he meant to do.

Her eyes open as if spooked, and she straightens out of his hands.  “Sorry!” she gasps.  Expression all pinched, she looks like she feels really ashamed.

About what, though?  If anything, he feels bad about how tired she is.  “No,” he reassures.  “No worry ‘bout me.”  He’s trying his best to sound comforting…  “Should get some rest, s’okay, I go wake you up befo’ my stop.  Trus’ me.”

Her eyes squint, like she’s straining to focus.  “...maybe.  But I don’t like sleep..on da bus.”

He can’t help a laugh.  “Ha, you look like you goin’ give yourself da kine whiplash back-an-for'-li’ dat, jus’ relax.”

“Mm…”  A noncommittal answer, but one that doesn’t argue, so he can’t push the issue any further, either.

They settle back into the sound of the engine roaring along the highway, and pretty soon, her body’s starting to lean over again.  He refrains from helping her, even though she looks uncomfortable.

She looks like she’s going to wake up with a sore neck.  Her blood’s probably rushing to her head in that position.  That’s not good, right?  She literally just had a fainting spell not too long ago.  So having her head lean against the rattling window pane wouldn’t be ideal, either.  Since they’re sitting at the back, she might really conk her head hard if the bus has to stop.

With more care than the first time, he tries to guide her to lean against him.

For a moment, her eyelids and brows wiggle and bunch up, but swiftly return to their placid state.

It’s nice.

She’s nice.

He should ask her out.  She doesn’t ignore him or outwardly show any disinterest, so…sometime he’ll do it.  Just of course not today.

When he sees that he’s getting close to his stop, he calls her name, “Hinata.  Hinata.”

“Mm.”  She sits up and blinks, a hand hurriedly wiping her mouth.

Drool?  He’s trying not to smile like a goofball, but kind of failing at hiding his selfish amusement.  “I gotta get off now.  You gon’ be okay?”

She nods, making eye contact for a second, only for her gaze to immediately skitter away to some unknown point on the bus floor.

“‘Kay, you take care, yeah?”

She nods again, still refusing to look at him, her hands busy everywhere touching her face and then her hair, fixing who-knows-what.  She murmurs something.

“Huh?” he asks in a knee-jerk reaction before his brain pieces together that it sounded like an apology.  “Oh, no need say dat.”  He reaches over to pull the cord for his stop and grins.  “Maybe I see you tomorrow, yeah?”

She nods, glances up at him for a second, and looks down once more.

He gets off the bus feeling pretty good about himself in the bright morning sun.

Only to realize--

Maybe he should have made sure she got home all the way.

Maybe he should have gotten off at her stop with her.

The library isn’t really that far a walk back to his own home.

…

She’s probably fine, right?

She wouldn’t have fallen asleep again, right?

Why did she faint anyway?

Should he have asked more?

His consciousness won’t let up.  He could call, but if he calls, then he really probably will need to ask her out eventually.  Well, he plans on it anyway, but if he calls, then that would really solidify things, and she’d expect something from him by, like, tomorrow.  

Well, that’s all hypothetical.  If he can even find her name in the phonebook...

...He finds it.

“Who you calling?” his mom asks, teasing him, as she pops up beside him in the kitchen.  “Noddah one of your girlfriends?”

“...No…”

“Ohh, you asking a girl out?  Why you no jus’ call her?  She goin’ turn you down, ah!” she laughs, all by herself.  “Who like go out wit you, ah?”  Her laughter rings throughout the house.

He wishes he could yell at her to shut up, but then she’d go get the slipper and give him some serious dirty lickins.

So he keeps his eyes on the phonebook, and with his mom’s derision motivating him, picks up the receiver and hooks his finger into the first digit, gaining self-confidence with each pull, release, and spin of the dial.

If it’s the parents, then that’s fine.  He’ll make a good impression.  Maybe.  He doesn’t need to talk to Hinata, he just wants the family to know that she fainted.  He gets the feeling Hinata’s not the type to talk about things like that to her family.

But then...maybe the cannery already called them about it.

The dial tone ends.

He takes a readying breath.  “...Hello?”

“Hello?”  It’s a young girl’s voice.

“Is this Hinata’s house?” he continues, desperately trying to imitate a school valedictorian or maybe a teacher...

“...Yeah...Who’s this?”

“This is Naruto...I, uh, work same place, at da cannery.”

“...She’s not home, yet.  And she’s not supposed to talk to boys.”

What?  I tought she in dat social club?  “Well, I no need talk to her.  I jus’ like you guys know that, uh, she wen fainted at work, yeah.”

“...”

“...So, she should be home soon, I get off da bus a little befo’ her, I jus’ like try check she gets home okay..yeah..”

“...Okay.”  In the background, he hears a faint voice talking before the girl on the line continues, “It’s a boy.”

“Huh?”

“He’s saying Hinata fainted at work.  And that she should be home soon.”

He realizes she’s talking to someone else, so he awkwardly waits.

“Okay, ...uhhmm...”  Her voice trails out for a solid second.

She talking to me now?  “Oh, yeah?”

“Thank you, I’m gonna go meet her.  Bye.”

“Oh-”  The line cuts, his own goodbye stuck in his throat.  He places the receiver back down, uncertain what to make of that whole exchange, wondering what about it left him dissatisfied.  He did what he meant to do, after all...  That must have been a younger sister.

“Hinata?  You neva talk about her befo’,” his mom observes as she gathers her things for work.  “You met her at da cannery?”

“No, she one year youngah dan me at sku’.”

“She wen faint?  Why you neva walk her back home, ah?!”

“I no tink dat until aftah!” he defends.  “Das why I wen call!”

“You no can get one decent girlfriend acting li’dat, ah!, dis stupid son of mine, ahh, ah, if you jus’ focus on sku’ mo’, get bettah grades, get mo’ smartah, ah,” his mom tuts and laments off on a tangent, and he ignores her.

He sees her off for work at the door, his mind turning back to whether he needs to ask Hinata out tomorrow.  Especially since, “She’s not supposed to talk to boys.”  What’s that about?

-

He never does find out.  There’s no way he could ask such a question, and the summer passes too fast for him to face her plainly.  He’s not sure why, but whenever he imagines her turning him down, the idea hurts a lot more than it should.

Logically, he knows itʻs just a yes or no answer.  He’s been turned down here and there.  He’s gone on numerous dates, danced with girls, and played silly social games with the opposite sex at parties.  And concerning Hinata, she’s a year younger than him, so the chances of seeing her on campus are a lot smaller, so he wouldn’t have to face her that often if she does turn him down.

So why can’t he just ask her out?

-

She held out hope.

She thanked him profusely the day after, and he was extremely nice to her.  He went back on the bus with her for that entire following week's shifts, making sure she was okay, before he determined that she was safe enough without him.

He went back to surfing in the mornings.

The day of their last shift, she held out so much hope.

He didn’t ask her out.

So she tries to shrug it off.

The disappointment.

The deep, far too deep, disappointment.  She’s probably just not his type.

But to her surprise, that’s not the last time she sees him before school starts.

Their social clubs host a joint car wash to raise money.

She pushes down her shy feelings, knowing that if he has absolutely no interest in dating her, then there’s really no reason for her to act strangely around him.  It would simply be rude of her to ignore him after spending all summer the way they did on the bus together.  Gathering her courage, she walks up to him and calls out his name, “Naruto!  Hi!”  She smiles, hoping to appear as cheerful as possible.

“Oh!”  He turns from his friends, already knowing whose voice it was, but still caught off-guard.

She’s dressed really casually--in shorts, a shirt, and rubber slippers, obviously appropriate for the day’s work, but still strange to see on her.  He somehow thought maybe she didn’t own casual clothes like that.

“Hinata!  Hi!” he responds, a little belatedly.  He feels really stupid, somehow his grin feels unnatural, too tense.  He watches her smile again and then turn back to her friends.

Something gnaws at his consciousness, like he missed out on saying or doing something he should have done in that moment.  Ask her how she’s been in the past week?  He just saw her not too long ago, so that would be dumb to ask.

“Whose dat again?”

He blinks out of his stare and turns to Sasuke.

“Hinata.  Hinata Hyuuga.  We bo’ worked night shift at da cannery.”

“You ask her out?”

“...No, nah yet…” he admits, nerves crawling around, making him feel guilty out of nowhere.

Sasuke raises a brow.  “You like her?”

He shrugs his shoulders, frowning, trying to play off the intrusive question as nothing to him.  “...Yeah…”

Now both of Sasuke’s brows are raised.

Naruto shifts uncomfortably.  Every single second here is making him realize he should’ve gotten the deed done and over with already.  Now she’s around all of his fellow club members.  Any one of the other guys could ask her out by the end of the day.

She could take a liking to one of his friends.  He realizes that his chances were so much higher when it was just the two of them.

-

She and Sakura walk around helping to pass out sponges and buckets.  They introduce themselves to several boys, all of them very friendly.

Hinata herself feels very friendly.  After her act of courage in facing Naruto, after getting that difficult exchange done with, she feels pretty bold.

She’s in this social club to have fun!  She won’t let a little one-sided crush damper her day!

True that none of the other guys are as naturally magnetic as Naruto, but she knows that first impressions aren’t everything.  All of these guys in his social club seem perfectly nice, helping to fill and carry the heavy buckets of water for the girls.

She sets to work on a car, excitedly engaging in discussions about the new school year with whoever works beside her.  And with an observant eye, she manages to not work on the same side of a car as Naruto.

Two hours pass in laughter and good spirits, even with how the noonday sun beats down, pouring heat over the asphalt lot.

The once cool water comes out hot from the hose, and the buckets are just puddles of liquid sun she has to dunk her hand and sponge into as infrequently as possible.

The constant bending is nothing to her, though.  After a whole summer of cannery work on her feet, she’s pretty sure she’s more fit than last year.  She’s not even sweating as much as she thought she would.

Until she gets up too fast.

Her head sears hot, her vision darkening into pinpoints of bright light.

She tries to squint, to see through the sudden tunnels of black, but her eyes burn, and just as quickly, she feels off-balance, her head too heavy to hold up.

She crouches down, face in her hands, confused and pained.

“Hinata, you okay?”  Sakura, most likely.

“I can’t see.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t see,” she repeats, trying to stay calm despite the painful splotches of color beneath her eye lids.  “It hurts.”  And she feels like she’s going to pass out, but she refuses to embarrass herself like that in front of everyone.

“Oh my gosh… Water.  Water!” Sakura says louder.

“Wut’s wrong!”  Another voice.

Oh no, not that voice.

“She’s dehydrated I think!”

“Oh shit,” he curses.

Hinata sits as still as possible, focusing on not tipping over into a ball and fainting right there on the dirty, poky ground.  Not again.

“Here, water,” Sakura says, her voice stressed and concerned.  “Can you raise your head?”

“Mm.”  She slowly lifts her face and opens her mouth.

A plastic water bottle is placed at her lips, lukewarm liquid flowing onto her tongue.  She drinks it dutifully, the pain in her head clearing rather quickly.

She eventually pushes the water bottle away and wipes her lips on the back of her hand.  “Thank you,” she breathes out, relieved that her head’s weight is starting to feel normal again.  But she keeps her eyes closed, too afraid to strain her vision.  Or to see if she attracted everyone’s attention...or to find out if Naruto is still there.

“Do you feel better?” Sakura asks, still sounding way more worried than necessary.

“Yeah, thank you, Sakura.”

“Can you see?”

“I don’t know…”  She doesn’t want to test herself too soon, but she cracks her eyes open, if only to assure Sakura that she’s okay.

The world is a bright fog through the slight cracks of her eyelids.

But it doesn’t hurt.

“I’ll be able to see fine in a minute, I think.”

Sakura sighs in relief.  “Good.”

A random boy whose deep voice she doesn’t recognize asks what happened.

“She dehydrated,” Naruto answers.

Hinata doesn’t know whether to feel flattered or dreadfully embarrassed that he’s still there.

“Oh, das not good,” the other boy assesses.

“Yeah…” Naruto agrees.

“I’ll be fine in a moment!” Hinata pipes up, her personality automatically choosing to feel embarrassed.

The unknown guy makes a sound of uncertainty.

“Yeah, Hinata,” Sakura adds on.  “I don’t think you should help out right away.  You could’ve gotten heatstroke.”

“Heatstroke?” she asks.

“Dere’s no shade ‘round hea,” Naruto comments.

Hinata slowly forces her eyes to adjust, hoping to prove them all wrong.  “I can see.  I’m fine.”  She starts to get up carefully.

More sounds of uncertainty resound behind her, and she hates how all three of them are treating her like she could collapse at any moment.

Like, even if she could collapse at any moment, even if that is what just happened, she doesn’t want this to be how everyone sees her from now on.  Like some weak, stupid girl who forgets to drink water on a hot day.

Even if that is what she is.

“I can take her home.”  Naruto’s invitation has her finally turning around to face her audience.

To her relief, it’s just the three of them, Sakura, Naruto, and a pretty, black-haired Japanese boy she’s seen him hanging out with.

“Yeah, take her home,” the pretty boy says.  He claps Naruto’s arm.

Naruto gives some kind of smile that’s really cute, and Hinata has to force herself to try not to examine anything he’s said or done in the past five minutes.

He made her over-examine his behavior all summer, only for it to amount to nothing.  He’s just really nice and treats her like a good friend.  That’s all.

Sakura helps her walk to his car.

And all too soon, she’s sitting right next to him.

Naruto starts up the engine, blasting the AC so that cool air roars onto their heated faces.

“I’m sorry.”  She gulps down a knot of discomfort in her throat, already regretting so much.

“Nah, no need say dat.”  His stomach feels sore, his legs antsy.  He was trying to nonchalantly work on the cars by her, but somehow, he wonders if she was avoiding him.

She’s too nice to do that, right?  She never tried to avoid him at their summer job…

He needs to gauge her interest in him.  So after he backs out of the parking space and safely makes it into traffic, he ventures conversation.  “How you feeling now?”

She nods.  “I feel better.  I could’ve stayed, I think…”

“...Oh…”  He’s already on Moanalua Home Road, and turning around now would be humbug.  “Are you sure?”

“Mm…”  She’s not sure.  She just doesn’t want to seem so frail.

“‘S'okay, ya know?  Already get plenny help, das why, no need chance 'm.”

“Mm...okay… Thank you...I’m sorry…”

With conversation finding its natural, quick end, he finds himself wracking his brain for ideas.  He has about five more minutes with her before they get to her house.  I should ask her out...I should just ask her...just ask her…

“Oh, I like this song.”

“Hm?”  He turns the radio up, glad to focus on something outside of his brain.  “Oh, yeah!”

It’s a newish one by Cecilio and Kapono, one he imagines will be really popular at social club dances, the slow tempo is perfect.

Not knowing what else to do to fill the silence, she starts singing softly.  She can tell he’s glancing at her, but she keeps her eyes fixed determinedly forward, her gut turning to jelly as the romantic meaning registers in her mind.  “...Our small moment that we shared, Is only yours and mine, No one else is really going to know, That I care about you…”

His cheeks flush.  This song really is perfect for a social club dance.  He never paid that much attention to the lyrics, but with her soft voice singing them, the words are suddenly resonating, hitting a little too close-to-home.

“And all the questions that I asked myself about you…”

He's made up his mind.  He’s going to ask her out.

“Won’t you come and be with me…”

Right after this song.

“That if you come and stay you’re going to see, That I care about you.”

He relaxes into his seat, his grasp, unintentionally tight on the wheel, relaxes, too.  If she's comfortable enough to sing in his presence, then there's nothing stopping him from feeling comfortable, too.  It's actually really nice to know that she's willing to do something like this with him.  He's stressed out for nothing.  He's hesitating for nothing.  And maybe, if things work out, this feeling...this moment...would be normal...

She peeks at him, and...he’s smiling.  He’s not teasing, laughing, or grimacing at her.  So she continues singing, relieved.

When the song finishes, he lowers the volume, reassured, readier than ever.  “Hinata…”

She blinks, realizing they’re really close to her house, and Naruto doesn't know where to go.  “Oh!  You turn left at the intersection after this light.”

Jarred to the present, he suddenly notices his heart racing, despite how calm he felt not even ten seconds ago.  The words get lost on his tongue, and he simply follows her instructions, the opportune moment evaporating into nothing.

“It’s that house,” she points, and he slows, pulling over against the curb.

She turns to him to give her appreciation properly.

But he’s facing directly toward her, his usually cheerful expression one of uncharacteristic focus.

Her heart leaps into her throat.

“Hinata," he repeats.  "You like, go movies with me, sometime?”

She nods, speechless, because yes, yes, yes.

And he visibly relaxes.  He can breathe again.  Her agreement was so much easier than he thought it would be.  “I go check da listings den, okay?  And I’ll call you?”

She nods, eyes growing wide as everything starts to sink in.

He nods, too, an embarrassed smile working at his mouth.  “Talk to you later den, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, a smile forming in reaction.  In a fog of happiness, she steps out of the car, nearly forgetting.  “Oh, thank you for taking me home!”

He nods, thinking that this won't be the last time he makes sure she gets home.  He notices how her happy smile lights up her eyes like earlier at the carwash, but now, it’s directed at him, him only.  And once she disappears into her house, more than anything, he feels incredible relief.

And excitement.

He gets the feeling…

She gets the feeling…

This is going to last.

[shadow-dancing]

Guitar Man (Taeil)

Listen: Guitar Man ; Every time I’m With You ; New Kid in Town

Genre: white collar worker!Taeil, guitarist!Taeil, some angst, moonlighting Words: 2, 217 

It was another crowded night at Pandora's Box, the pub in town that your uncle owned. Lately there has been a guitar playing man who was drawing in hoards of people to visit, & your uncle couldn't be happier by the boom in business. You weren't into pubs or bars—the stale air & smell of booze was a big turn off for your sensitive sense of smell, & the songs that usually blared at a billion decibels were not your cup of tea. Your uncle was singing this guitar man praises every night when he came home from work, & it was driving you slightly mad.

Your friend, Taeyong, was absolutely floored that you have never heard this person live when your uncle literally ran the place. "Come on, Y/N, the guy's great! Just go listen once, trust me."

You gave in after 3 weeks, & visited the establishment on a Monday night where you hoped the crowds would be less compared to the weekends. The pub air hit your nostrils like a sucker punch & you silently gagged as you made your way to the bar. You recognized the bartender, it was Johnny, the gentle giant whom you've known since your uncle opened the place about 3 years ago.

"Hey Y/N! What're you doing here?" Johnny asked with a wave. He was aware you were not a big fan of pubs.

"Came to see the newest sensation, of course," you smiled wryly, sitting gingerly on the bar stool.

"Ah, Taeil. He's great, the bars been busier than Times Square on New Year's Eve these past weeks. I think boss is considering hiring him permanently," Johnny nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"I'll get Kun to make some fish & chips for you."

Soon you were tucking into your fish & chips with some iced Ribena. It was starting to get really crowded, & Johnny eventually got busy enough that he was making 3 drinks at the same time. You were tempted to leave; the amount of people in the relatively large space was probably over the maximum capacity at this point, & people had to jostle their ways around trying to find seats. At 7:45 the band that was playing stopped, said their thanks, & got off the stage. A relatively short young man, clad in a striped shirt under an oversized denim jacket & his dark hair side swept, took their place, a black guitar case slung over his shoulder & a bottle of water in hand. The crowd started murmuring excitedly, which gave you all you needed to know—this young man was Taeil. You were startled by his appearance when he turned around—he was wearing a white half mask to cover the upper half of his face.

Taeil adjusted the mic to fit his smaller stature, & perched on the stool that had been brought out for him. You watched as he produced an acoustic guitar from the case, & tuned it. He cleared his throat, took a quick sip of water, cleared his throat once more, & leaned into the mic a little.

"Good evening everyone—"

The crowd interrupted him with hoots & cheers. You rolled your eyes. Let the man speak, dammit.

Taeil smiled politely as the cheers died down. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight."

You pushed aside your empty plate, sipping your drink. A hush fell over the crowd as Taeil started playing.

"Are we going insane? Do we need to explain? I feel like we know it."

Your heart leaped. Taeyong & Johnny were wrong—he wasn't just good, he was damn good. The crowd slowed their activities, their eyes trained on him as he sang. The kitchen grew quieter as Johnny & Kun paused a moment to listen.

"I could lose it all it won't be daunting Somehow I don't think I'd even care Cuz every time I'm with you I feel wanted We could make believers if we dared"

As he finished the song, the people sighed; some wiped their tears & kissed their significant others, while others wallowed in loneliness. Taeil realized the mixed reaction & wanted to stammer an apology, but the crowd burst into applause & screamed for another song. He took a swig of water & started on the next song.

"Baby I don't know why, but somehow I always seem to get tangled up in my pride"

Taeil's set ended at 9.30, much to the dismay of the crowd. He waved shyly as he hopped off the stage & disappeared through a back door. Johnny & Kun resumed their work. & you gulped down the rest of your drink. Taeil's set was over, there no longer was a reason to hang around. As you lay in bed later that night, your heart was still pounding, the sweet vocals resonating in you ears.

You found yourself at the pub after work the next day. Johnny looked up as you approached, & you knew he could tell you couldn't get enough of Taeil. At the same time as yesterday, Taeil took the stage at 7:45, & today he asked the band to accompany him as he played a rendition of Got My Mind Set On You, Oh Pretty Woman, & Part Time Lover.

"Okay break time everyone! I need to hydrate!" Taeil laughed, leaving the mic.

He squeezed past his adoring fans & made it to the bar, where he asked for some lemon tea. Johnny handed it to him, & he downed it pretty fast, almost choking on the ice.

"You okay?" You asked, offering some serviettes.

"Yeah, fine. Forgot my bottle," Taeil reassured. He flashed you a smile, before heading off to the stage again.

--------------------------------------------------------

Taeil scrubbed a hand over his eyes as the sun started to hang low. Work was exhausting as always, & he was more than ready to just up & leave the place. He glanced at his watch—4:55PM. 5 more minutes & he could clock out. He looked around to see what his colleagues were up to; Jungwoo was yawning widely as he typed away at his laptop, Yuta was scrawling away busily on some paper, probably doodling, & Jaehyun had his earphones plugged in—Taeil could make out some TV drama playing on Jaehyun's Netflix account. Taeil exhaled, glancing at his watch again.

Another 2 minutes to freedom.

He pushed his papers aside, pulling out a binder full of guitar chords from his bag. He flipped through the sheets to find a song to play at the pub. Are You Lonesome Tonight seemed good for a first song, maybe for the second song he could play—

"Aw yes! Finally time to leave this place!" Yuta announced loudly, standing up to stretch his arms.

"Not so loud! Do you want the boss to hear?" Taeil hissed, putting a finger to his lips.

"He left like 45 minutes ago," Jungwoo pointed out, shutting off his laptop.

"What? Really?" Jaehyun asked, taking his earphones out.

"Seriously? I thought you were watching that stupid TV drama because you knew he was gone!" Jungwoo exclaimed.

"No, I watched it because I don't want to do work. Tomorrow's a holiday for heaven's sakes why are we even here when we could've taken the day off."

"Oh whatever let's just get out of here," Yuta grumbled, packing up. "The pool table at Daydream is calling my name."

"Taeil, you joining us for pool?" Jungwoo asked. "Yuta is gonna go up against Doyoung later."

"No it's fine, I have something to do tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow, bye," Taeil said as he walked out the door.

He quickly got into his car, & drove home for a quick rinse. He found a clean shirt & threw on a black jacket & was out the door again with his guitar in hand. He was glad the owner of Pandora's Box let him play; he was tired of the tedious routine of his work days, & playing for the crowd for 1.5 hours was the one thing he looked forward to everyday, even if it meant he had to take a 2 hour drive to the pub. He had chanced upon the pub after the previous place he used to frequent got shut down due to poor business. He didn't even realize the crowds got less, as he was so focused on his playing.

Traffic was lighter than usual today, to which Taeil chalked up to being related to tomorrow being a public holiday, & most probably took the day off to make it a long weekend. He parked in his usual spot, & entered the front discreetly. It was pretty early, so there were only a handful of people inside. Johnny, the bartender, looked up as Taeil approached.

"Hey man, you're early today," he noted.

"Yeah, traffic was good. Can I get some water?"

Johnny slid him a glass of water.

"Is that musician gonna play tonight?"

Taeil almost choked on his water as he accidentally eavesdropped on the conversation of the fellas at the table behind him.

"I should think so."

"Tsk. What's so great about him? He just sings songs & strums his guitar. Anyone can do it!"

"Uh, I mean, not everyone has the—"

"Pass me a guitar & I could sing as good as him."

"Can you even play guitar."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it does, you nitwit."

Taeil was mildly amused by the exchange, but also by the fact they thought they might like to take his place. In no way did he believe he was superior over them, but being a musician wasn't as easy as prancing on the stage with a guitar.

He wowed the crowd as always that night, and at 9.25 he looked at his binder stuffed with sheet music. What shall his final song be?

You watched intently form your seat, Taeyong cheering next to you; Taeil was absolutely glowing tonight, & everyone was all ears. He sang Elvis, & even played Piano Man by Billy Joel. You noticed the crowd seemed to be a little thin today, yet it didn't faze Taeil. He adjusted his mask, & picked up his guitar. A familiar set of chords filled your ears, & you inhale deeply.

"There's talk on the street it sounds so familiar. Great expectations, everybody's watching you."

You bit your lip slightly. What could Taeil possibly mean by playing this song? Was it just a song for tonight or did he have some intention to sing it?

"Johnny come lately The new kid in town Everybody loves you So don't let them down"

The rest of the crowd did not seem to be worried by the song. After all, why should they? The guitar man was simply here to serenade them with his angelic vocals to help them forget about life for a while. You take a swig of your Ribena. You were probably just overthinking things. After all, this song was about fleeting romance. You glanced at Taeyong briefly, & he catches your eye. He smiles, & you feel your heart skip a beat.

"There's talk on the street, it's there to remind you Doesn't really matter which side you're on You're walking away, and they're talking behind you They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along"

As the pub emptied for closing, Taeil sat at the bar with a glass of water. Johnny was mopping up the beer some patron had spilled all over the floor, grumbling about how uncouth some people can get. Kun was singing softly in the kitchen as he washed up the dirty dishes in the sink, while his kitchen assistants cleaned the stoves & countertops. Taeil thumbed the rim of his glass, suddenly tired. Boy was he glad tomorrow was a holiday cuz he intended to sleep in late.

"You did well today, Taeil," the bar owner said as he rearranged the tables & chairs.

"Thank you, sir."

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, sir, just tired," Taeil admitted.

"Not surprised, you did go all out tonight," the owner nodded. "If you're too tired to make the drive home I think Johnny can let you stay in his place, can you Johnny?"

Johnny gave a thumbs up.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine."

The lightbulb above Taeil flickered. The bar owner frowned at it, muttering he should get a replacement bulb for that. Taeil stayed until the owner had to escort his employees out. Sitting in the driver seat of his car, Taeil watched as the lights went out before starting his car. 

It was time to leave. 

--------------------------------------------------------

"Is the Guitar Man coming back?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"I hope he does. He was fantastic."

Johnny looked up. The crowds were less now that Taeil hasn't returned to play for the past 5 days. The boss had called Taeil out of concern 3 days ago, lord knows what could've happened that night that he insisted on driving back despite his tiredness, & Taeil answered that he’s gone elsewhere to play. The boss was disappointed, but understood that sensations tend to fade out after their 15 minutes of fame. 

Johnny returned to his chores; he too had been disappointed to hear Taeil left to go elsewhere to sing. Maybe one day the guitar man would return. 

[jump-off-a-clifford-universe]

ok i don’t normally do this but i really really need to rant

i literally do not want to wake up because there’s too much to deal with. 

so i live in hong kong (city in south east asia), and obviously most schools do hong kong exams (except some international schools??i don't really know), but my school chose to do the international GCSEs in grade 10 which is an UK exam, and go back to the hong kong exams (equivalent to SATs or A-levels) in grade 12. so naturally there are some differences and the gap between is quite wide and there are a lot of catching up to do cuz we’ve lost the whole year 10 to the GCSEs already and there’s only roughly 1.5 year to prepare for the exam at the end of year 12. 

the GCSEs ended last last week and we’ve had a week of holiday. and now we have to go back to school for “post exam activities” which I thought was gonna be chilled, but noooooo honey. they made us start year 11 now. literally wtf. i’ve just finished the first public exam in my life and now you’re telling me i’ve got to start preparing for my second one in 3 years. and that’s not even the problem. 

so i went back to school and i had chinese lesson, and i thought it was gonna be chilled, like nothing to do and just chat kind of chilled, but as soon as I got in the classroom, the teacher made us do a year 12 chinese public exam paper WHILE IM STILL IN YEAR !!!10!!! and told us we should at least get 75%. literally what the heck again. people who do this paper at the end of year 12 are still failing or getting bad grades and now my school be telling us we should get a 75% when i’m still in year 10. what. the. hell. 

(but if you’re wondering i got 81% so that’s not bad) 

then I went to english class and woohoo the teacher told us we have to submit 2 research papers on either a documentary or movie and either a fiction or nonfiction book. again, i just finished my exams. let me live. 

normally i won’t complain about school but i’ve literally been taking tests and exams all school year. october to november - test season (3 tests per subject, 13 subjects), december to january - exam season, february - test season (3 tests per subject, 13 subjects), march to april - mock exams, may to june - real GCSEs. non stop. i swear this whole school year i spent every single weekend studying or taking extracurriculars. 

and i feel so lied to?? every single teacher in our school is telling us that if we get As, we’re average, and Bs are below international average because the hong kong curriculum isn’t the most academically challenging. really? then why the high suicide rates? 

i’ve never realised it but our school has always been indoctrinating us to believe that our only choice is to get into a good uni after secondary school. just like last month we had a “careers’ choices and future planning” workshop where we were introduced many universities and stuff, our school didn't even bother to tell us about the less prestigious school??? so like they said we could go study abroad in the uk, and some uni examples are oxbridge, uni of manchester, london school of economics and imperial college, and that’s all. literally. they were literally hinting to us that these unis are the only choices and withdrawing information about less prestigious unis from us. same for the US unis where they only told us about the ivy leagues. 

and so last year i’ve decided to do vet med at either Cambridge or Cornell, and ever since i’ve been studying my ass off and joining a bunch of different activities (related or not related - I need the certificates and experiences). i didn’t realise it but i’ve got so much on my plate. to illustrate here’s my usual timetable for the majority of the year 

monday - school 7:45 to 4:00                 athletics 4:00 to 7:00                 dinner 7:30 to 7:45                 shower 7:45 to 8:00                 homework and studying 8:00 to however late it might be 

tuesday - school 7:45 to 4:00                 french 4:00 to 5:30                  homework and studying 6:00 to 7:30                  dinner 7:30 to 7:45                 shower 7:45 to 8:00                                 piano practice 8:00 to 9:30                  homework and studying 9:30 to however late it might be 

and basically everyday is the same but with different extracurriculars. some days i even get at 5 to get some shit done before school. 

i rmb this one time i was painting at night cuz i study art and it was really late. it was so late that i heard birds chirping outside to i knew i had to at least sleep for an hour or two before school. i packed up and went to the washroom to pour away the dirty paint water but accidentally spilled everything on the floor. now normally i would’ve cleaned it up. no big deal. but that day i was so tired that i sat in the puddle on paint water and cried for an hour then got changed and went to school like nothing happened. no one knew because i handed in everything. i had good grades. i didn’t complain. but that doesn't make it ok. it doesn't change the fact that the school is pushing the students too hard. 

another one of my friend was so exhausted that she had to stay in a hospital for 2 weeks. all because of school. another one of my friend wrote and typed so much that she pulled some muscles in her hand and she couldn’t play guitar now. 

and i’ve been holding on so well because i was literally too busy to feel the stress?? but that’s a lie cuz i have so many breakouts. i used to have such good skin but now i have breakouts all over my forehead cuz of stress. 

so long story short i had a breakdown today and now i think i’m sick but i don't wanna skip school.

[bl6ckr0s3]

Weekend Plans/Court Prep.

I had a meeting with Josafina, my new attorney this morning about how to go by saying things when she will ask certain questions. I recorded our conversation so that I can listen to it while I practice as well as being able to share it with Lissandra & Wendy so that they know what we have discussed. I am happy that she is actually prepared to know what to do for my case unlike stupid Paul. I was debating on whether I should leave him a negative feedback this weekend or just wait until court is over. Most likely I might wait until court is done before leaving reviews for both Paul & Josafina. She will definitely get a 5 star out of me because she is experienced and much better with communication. She seems to be cheaper too which is worth the attorney change over.

I decided to take today off from work because I was too tired & exhausted from lack of sleep. I know I wouldn't be able to drive the communite right after the meeting since our meeting was at 11am this morning. I only had 4 hour sleep. The baby has fell asleep a couple of times, this is the time I should be sleeping as well, but I'm up trying to catch up with chores and such. I definitely wanna get some laundry done tonight before the weekend begins so that I wouldn't have to worry about it later. I plan on attending this Axel Co. party launch event tomorrow. Trinidad's friend is hosting the event and he wanted to go so he invited me to go shoot it as well as maybe we can do some shots of him there also. It's different, but I think my work can help out some businesses there. Sunday is the psychobilly show at the Doll Hut which I plan on inviting Wendy to attend with me. She's been full of anxiety lately, and her medication hasn't been helping her for some reason. Maybe her hanging out with me will help her feel better a little bit. It's going to be a fun week. Busy weekend, court, then another fun weekend shooting my friend Crystal's wedding. I asked her who the special headliner is going to be and she said Angry Samoans which I remember shooting a long time ago at the Doll Hut. The good thing is this is going to be outdoor so thank god i'll have some fresh air to breath and I won't have to worry about being cooped up in a small tight space.

I have spoken to Cait through another 3 tarot card reading and she informed me that Ricky will try to be petty and use something stupid to pin on me for a criminal charge. Even if it gets back to me later on in the future, he doesn't have any solid evidence on me. Especially after I get my restraining order permanently and full custody over my child, then it would be harder for him to pin something without a solid evidence on me for whatever he is claiming for. I just can't wait to see the look on his face when Wendy & Lissandra testify for my case against him. Cait verified with me that Trinidad and I will remain good friends after we found our true significant other. Right now we are enjoying each other's company because of the fact that I love his affection that he shows towards me and the fact that it feels so peaceful when we are together, on top of that the hot sex makes it all great overall even though I know part of it is his lust for me. He has no ill intentions for me, which is why I am enjoying this temporary romance with him.

I helped Brenda's husband's cousin Erik with a problem. For the documentation since I haven't written in a journal for awhile, he was having problems for the past year when his ex gf put a curse on him. Not only her, but her mother step mother and step mother's mother are all witches whom tried to control him when he was dating his ex. She got pissed off when he broke up with her and wanted to curse him in relatiation to make him miserable. He has had health problems such as headaches, stomach or back pains, he couldn't enjoy having sex with his wife because he would go soft, and every time he had a new job he wouldn't last long. He would get laid off or fired for whatever reason. Ever since I helped him he has been so happy & thankful especially for somebody he has never met before who isn't expecting anything in return. He gave Brenda $100 to give to me for helping him. He wouldn't accept it back. He works at a car detailing place so it's perfect, cuz I could use a wash and detail on both of my vehicles. He use to have nightmares also and insomnia. When he texted Brenda last Monday about how he was able to have sex with his wife, I was happy to know that whatever I did for him helped him. The person that would've offered to help was charging $300 a session. He tried everything everybody told him to try and nothing seem to have worked.

I currently gotten back in touch with Mary Ann Kim, my other cousin. We haven't spoken in years because of her backing up my other cousin Seng when we were arguing about something stupid on social media. All these years, she had felt bad about the way she treated me because I was nothing but nice to her. I told her no worries and that that's the past and that I have already forgiven her. I requested my oldest niece Josephine to be added on FB, but not sure if she would add me or not. It's up to her because I am the one reaching out because we ain't getting any younger and it would be sad to completely just lose touch when we use to be so close when we were younger. Mary Ann is concerned whether all the curse on her was lifted by a monk in Cambodia because her bf's ex-fiance put a curse on her and can actually do mind control. She has a lot of arguments with her bf Joshua so I did a prayer and cleansing as well as a spell to protect her from now on. I did a test on her bf to see if his intentions are nothing, but good for her without the ex fiance having some kind of spell over him. He would break out in acne or pimples if he has ill intentions. It would be interesting to see if he does break out, if anything he may pass the test.

[illjustblamemypasttrauma]

10/04 hi

My therapist and I agreed to spread out our sessions to once every two weeks, so I’m here today to work on stuff on my own like a good therapy client/human being.

I think the first thing I want to talk about is my problem with the guy I’ve been sexting. He is just horny all the fucking time and sends me pics like every hour almost of his dick or something and like it was fun one time when I was super horny but like after that day I’m just like... okay why? Like apparently he likes to edge himself for days on end?? Boy if I make out with a dude for like an hour and grind and shit without cumming my balls will be dying later, even after I do cum. But idk I told him today that I wanted to take a break from the sexual stuff because I’m just so drained and I don’t even want that? I don’t want to see his hard dick every hour and have him make me compliment him and have him ask for pics of me. Like I’m busy doing other stuff? I want to actually talk to someone not just sext? I guess that last statement is confusing.. like I know that he just wants to sext (mostly) so like why do I care? I guess this goes with the fact that I just am not enjoying it, but why am I not enjoying it? I enjoy it sometimes when I’m horny... Also I’ve noticed its harder for me to cum, like my dick will be hard but its hard for me to get to my orgasm by watching porn or reading fics.. like I used some new toys I bought and they worked fine, but hm maybe its my mood? maybe its my meds? I have been really stressed recently cuz starting to transition to my new position at work and I had to pump out a 5 page paper yesterday. Its understandable that I’m exhausted from that, but then I also stay up until like 1 on weekdays and like 2 on weekends now? Like the lack of sleep isn’t affecting me too much I think, which made me be concerned that I’m experiencing hypomanic symptoms? I mean I have been spending more money but also like most of it is either on extra bills (lily’s vet/teeth cleaning or ATT bullshit) or I try to budget for it. Idk I feel like this diagnosis class has me being all “Do I have this???” which like can be helpful but also can be kinda self-defeating. Like its good to know the symptoms of problems, but self-diagnosis is not 100% correct.

Back to the sexting problem, I feel like he just doesn’t know me (which granted he doesn’t and we didn’t agree to do anything beyond sext) but like I told him multiple times that I prefer talking more outside of sexual stuff and it just feels like he doesn’t care. Like he just wants to get off, which is valid, but I don’t know if I want that. Like we have some connection but then we he does some semblance of connection during sexting its weird like “I’m gonna be your first for everything” and shit like that. Its like he makes me feel like I’m just an object that he can use to get off (or not cuz he likes to edge so damn much???) and granted I have gotten off as well, but I feel like the expectations he puts on me... actually he doesn’t really put expectations on me, except he does expect reciprocity to his sexual-ness but like... I’m just not always feeling that. And from what I talked about earlier its hard to want to reciprocate when he just makes me feel like an object for his pleasure. Like yes he is “understanding” of my problems that I talk to him about, but at the end of the day I feel like he just wants sex and so in a sense he may care but his caring is super-ceded by his desire to get off. Once again I keep saying “well isn’t that what we agreed upon? Some talking and sexual-ness?” I guess maybe I just don’t want that anymore? especially since its just degraded to him sending me dick pics constantly throughout the day. Maybe I just don’t want to invest so much time and energy for what we have going on between us. Like I’d rather just have a boyfriend or a close friend (not sexual) that I could talk to and invest time into. Like this guy is in Austin and I won’t be moving out of Dallas for like almost 2 years.

I think I’m just kind of lonely still. Like I think I should facetime someone soon, I mean I was going to facetime Haley cuz I want help with my paper, but yeah I need to do it more often. I think the stress of work and school is just adding up and making it hard for me, kinda lowering my mood/energy. The meds are still very helpful and I’m able to play games with my and my brother’s friend and his friends, but at the end of the day I think I just need/want more.

One thing that I have noticed is that when I get down, I tend to revert to negative thinking like “I can’t do ___” which also shows up as “I’m a bad cat dad, I’m not giving lily enough attention” etc. However, I have been trying to notice those thoughts and change them and they have helped.

IDK what else to talk about, I feel like my attention has been going everywhere when I’m trying to relax. I feel like I am always having to do somethin (whats new) and that I’m like looking for more games and gay content to fill up my time (which I’ve been contemplating paying for new games - I mean I already planned on buying new games).

Another thing I can talk about is that for Christmas my family is coming to Texas. I took off the week after Christmas to spend time with them, but they want to go to Galveston to visit the beach and chill. I feel like part of me is like “heck yeah lets go on a trip” while the other part is like “god trips with my family are so much” like I feel like I want to travel, but I feel like when I got with family they’re always full of stuff to do. So I told my brother who his wife is planning it and he essentially told me that he was just wanting to do like minimal stuff just hang out. But then I’m like... why are we driving 5 hours to Galveston then? Why don’t we just hang out in Dallas together and be able to go to our own spaces afterwards?? The last time we took a trip during Christmas, my sister (not as close to me) yelled at me and my other sister (the one close to me) because we lost a game?? Like idk it was really excessive but that whole trip was filled with super passive aggressive stuff and it was really frustrating. I was also not in a good mood because I was in college and drove to Dallas from Austin and we ended up going to San Antonio which is like an hour south of Austin so we drove past Austin and I was like ??? WHY??

I think goals for this week would be to talk to my friends more (like I could text Hao or call/facetime her and she’d always answer) and facetime Haley and Lindsay or even Sam. I also want to try to be more cognizant of when I feel negatively about myself and try to reframe it.

Also I’ve been wanting to write fanfiction for like so long (at least a month) and I have like ideas written down but it just seems so... daunting? Like I don’t know how to write fiction for shit. The last time I wrote fiction was like sophomore year of high school... its so hard lmao... and like I’m already struggling with time management, but I guess this could be a way to relieve some stress since I’ve been trying so hard to find something to do.

[blogdminor7add9]

Smalltown Blues- Part 2

The next day I woke up to Nicole shaking me. “Good morning, sunshine! It’s time to get up and be my friend!” Nicole was a morning person. I was not. “Ugh, what time is it?” My head was pounding.“It’s noon! How late were you up?” Nicole responded. All of a sudden flashes of memories from the night before came flooding back; spray paint, Kristen, Pulp Fiction. I shook my head, “Way too late, is Kristen here?”  “No, she’s at work. But I made coffee!” I rubbed my eyelids. Cool, I can deal with that a little later. “Alright, alright I’m up. I need to go into town and get some things for the bar anyway before I have to go in.” “Sweet! I’ll come with.” I rolled out of bed, and headed to the bathroom. I looked myself in the mirror. I’m not sure who I saw, but it wasn’t me. It’s like overnight someone else inhabited my body. This person had no inhibitions, no fear, no self-restraint. This person was fun, but reckless. Well-intentioned, but ignorant. And whoever this person was, they were about to have a hell of a ride.  Later that day, I went to work, as usual on a Friday night. I worked with two other bartenders at Rusty’s Pub-- Nicole and Abbie. Abbie was twenty-four and had two kids. She was about the same height as me, right around 5′8″, not stocky, but strong; and not just physically, but emotionally too. She supported her mom and two children by herself, worked her ass off, and still managed to have a smile on her face every single day. I admired her. She was my best friend. I got to the bar around five, and Abbie came in around seven. As we got everything ready for the weekend rush, we talked about work, life, and our current events.  “So, what did you do last night?” she asked me. She knew I always had a story to tell.  “Me? Oh, nothing really. Just sat at the house and drank a few beers. What about you?” I directed the question her way. “That’s all? You were off all day yesterday. Didn’t go see Jake at all?”  Ugh, Jake, I totally forgot about Jake for a second. “No, I just kicked it with Nicole for a while. I didn’t really feel like driving to Barlow and back. (Barlow was a “town” about thirty minutes west of Desgrange, with a population of seventy-five and no post office.) “Gotcha, so how’s that whole situation going? Have you met the other girl that lives there?” By this point, I’m sure she could see my cheeks flushing. It was obvious that I did not want to talk about it.  “Uh, yeah, it’s going well. Yeah, I met her last night. She’s cool. Doesn’t seem like it’ll be hard to live with her. You should meet her, I think you’ll get along.” “Well, bring her up here! I’m sure she’ll love the group.” “Yeah, I’m sure Nicole will drag her out eventually. Anyway, do you know who’s coming out tonight?” “I heard from Tom earlier, but other than that, no.” Around nine o’clock, everyone started showing up. The crowd at Rusty’s was made up mostly of regulars. There wasn’t much else to do in Desgrange but get drunk and snort shit, so bartending was a booming business in town. Tom showed up first, and greeted us at the bar. “What’s up?” I smiled. “Long time, no see.” My friends came in the bar every night but Sunday and Monday, primarily because we were closed those days, but also to rest their livers and wallets, and just drink at home. “Whatcha drinking?” Tom sighed, “Uhh, give me a double shot of Bacardi with a couple limes.” I turned to see Abbie with the bottle already in hand. “On the rocks?” she asked. He nodded, and I continued.   “Rough day?”  “Same old, same old.” Abbie slid Tom his drink. “Well, then I’d say that’s a pretty rough day,” she said with a smile and looked at me.  “Oh, no, everything’s fine with Kat, I’m good there. Just exhausted with my job.” “So, she’s not still staying with Amber?” I asked, confused. “Yeah, she is. But she stays with me sometimes too, and we had a good talk last night. She said that they’re not fucking anymore, and that she’s gonna move back in with me but she just wants to make sure that it’s gonna work out before she moves all her stuff back.” I shook my head. His ignorance blew my mind. “Tom, she is definitely still fucking her.” Abbie chuckled, “First of all, you two were engaged for a year. Don’t you think she should know by now if it was going to work out between the two of you? And second, even if she’s not gonna move in, she could at least stay with you.” “She does!” “How often?” “At least twice a week!” “Okay, so the other five nights a week she’s at Amber’s?” “Yeah, but I really don’t think they’re fucking. I know you think I’m dumb, but I believe her. You guys don’t know her like I do.”  “UGH!” Abbie and I dramatized, “You don’t know her like I do.” “Whatever, guys. I need another drink.” I looked at Abbie and we laughed, I turned around and got a glass.  “Better be careful, Tom,” I said with a smirk, and cut my eyes at him, “We don’t want another incident like last Thursday.” About that time, my cousin and his roommate walked in.  “Will!” Abbie said excitedly. Everybody loved my cousin. He was one of the smartest people I’d ever met, and equally as good-hearted. Will was only a year older than me, and we grew up as next door neighbors. You could say we were pretty tight. “What’s up guys?” Tom chimed in. Christopher was Will’s best friend and roommate, and a lifelong friend of mine as well. He was recently back from Afghanistan where he was in the infantry. He suffered from some PTSD, and not just from his time overseas. Chris was a good guy, but inherently misunderstood. You see, you had to know him to even begin to understand the things he said. You had to know that Chris used to come home to his dad tweaked out on their couch tattooing himself, and that he raised his little brother and sister. His stepmom was a pill-head; his real mom was a pill-head, and died in a car accident when he was eleven. When we were fourteen, Chris called me from the top of a crane at his uncle’s repair shop. I talked him out of what he had intended. This happened a few times growing up. He was a tortured soul who had made the absolute best of what he was given. But it was hard for some to look past the fact that he had an upside down cross on one forearm and a noose tattooed on the other.  “Hello assholes!” Chris said, bright with a smile on his face. Tom quickly engaged him in conversation. “What’s going on, cuz?” I said to Will, as I made them a bucket of Busch Lite.  “Not a lot, Cuz, taking it easy. How’s everything with you?” “Moved in to Nicole’s last Sunday while I was off work.”  “Nice, how’s that?” I finished making their bucket, and sat it in between them. Christopher cracked a beer, chugged it, and said “I gotta go to the bathroom,” before making a beeline for the hallway.  “Seems alright, there’s another person who lives there.” “Who’s that?”  “Her name’s Kristen.” “And?” I paused, trying to decide what my intentions were with this conversation. When I realized there were no good ones, I responded, “Nothing really, just, there’s another person there.” “Yeah, I can see how that would be weird, considering you’ve only known Nicole for a couple months, you really don’t even know her that well, let alone this girl and you said Nicole’s boyfriend lives there? Seems stressful to me.” “It’ll be interesting for sure,” I agreed. About that time, Christopher came back, grabbed another beer, drank about half of it, and asked Will to play pool with him.  “Sure, I’ll meet you back there,” Will said then looked at me. “Well, he’s on one.” “Yeah, you’re telling me, we were up all night last night, I slept for like two hours around ten this morning, but I don’t think he ever did. He was saying some crazy shit last night, Cuz, I’m kinda worried about him.”  “He needs to go back to the doctor,” I had said this a million times. “I know that, but you can’t tell him that,” Will had said that a million times. “Go play pool with him, we’ll do something after bar close.” Will gave me a thumbs up, grabbed his bucket of beer, and headed to the pool tables. As Will rounded the wall into the backroom, Smith walked in still wearing his sunglasses with his leather pool cue case on his shoulder. He had his Hollister hat turned backwards, button-down shirt two-thirds of the way buttoned, black skinny jeans, and his black suede vans. His name was Benjamin Smith, but for whatever reason, everyone called him Smith. Those closest to him sometimes called him Benji. But only those closest to him. “Sup?” he said casually as he slid into a seat at the bar.  Smith had a type of swagger about him that couldn’t be rivaled. So natural, and so modest. However, in a town of 15,000 it’s not exactly cool to be cool. We were at least five years behind in all fashion, music, and pop culture awareness, and at least fifteen years behind in the evolution of the moral compass. Needless to say, people like me and my friends, we were different in a small town, and it was well known. And sometimes, it was not well-accepted. But we had a safe-house, a haven, if you will. We had Rusty’s, and it was as weird as we were. Abbie, Nicole, and I bartended. Abbie and I kind of co-managed it, and Nicole had just recently hired on as extra-help. There were strange paintings and knick knacks in every inch of the bar. There were colored Christmas lights lining the walls and colorful band and movie posters. In the back room, there were pool tables, darts, and foosball tables. On the walls, a massive mural, using every color you can imagine, showing mushrooms, cult-movie references, crazy, abstract designs, all at the hands of artists from around town. I met some of my best friends working there. 

“Hey, Smith! How are you??” Abbie reentered the room from the walk-in cooler.” “I’m good, how are you?”  “Good, haven’t seen ya in a while.” “Yeah, I’ve been trying not go out as much. You know? Save money.” I rolled my eyes, “And hide from your friends.” “I was just here last Thursday!” we all laughed and looked at Tom. “Come on, guys, am I ever gonna live that down?”  “Not for a while, Tom,” Abbie said, “Pay your dues.” “Hmm,” Smith changed the subject, “Got anything new?” I opened the cooler, seeing our selection, “We’ve got a new Elysian beer, some sort of Pale Ale. Wanna try it?” “Sure, let’s try that.” Abbie slid him a bottled beer. “Will and Chris are back there playing pool.”  “Right on, I’ll be back there, then. Tom, wanna play?” “Sure,” Tom responded. Smith glided out of his barstool and around the corner to the poolroom. “Can I have another. please?” “Damn, Tom, three in thirty minutes. You’re really pushing for a rerun, aren’t ya?” Abbie chimed in with a smirk.  “No, shit,” I looked at Thomas and laughed. “That was ONE TIME!” Tom responded. I slid him his drink, and Tom popped out of his chair and stormed into the backroom. “ONE TIME,” he exaggerated as he walked off. “It was last Thursday!” Abbie yelled when he was out of sight. We laughed.

I guess I should tell you that me and my friends-- we liked to party. We were also dirt-poor. We worked to have money, and we spent money to party. We had fun, though, lots of it. But with good times, come bad. I feel like it all started breaking down that night. At about 10:30, my friends had been at the bar for about four and a half hours, we had a few regulars come in and out, but over all, it was a slow night. Abbie and I talked a lot that night, about where our lives were going, and what we still needed to learn about ourselves. I realized that night that I had a lot to learn about myself. I stepped outside and called Jake. Jake was my boyfriend of about five months, he was wanting to get a little more serious than I was, and we were kind of in the middle of an argument about that as it was. That entire night I had this feeling that if I did not break up with Jake that night I would regret it my entire life. So that’s what I did. I called him up, I told him I needed space, and that I didn’t think we were good for each other romantically. Blah, blah, blah, I hope we can still be friends, genuinely, blah blah blah. (Don’t get me wrong, I meant it all, but the conversation was entirely too long.) Finally, we came to the agreement that we would talk more tomorrow, so long as he understands we are broken up, and he does not come to the bar tonight. 

What are agreements anyway? 

By 11:15, Jake was at the door of the bar in handcuffs, shouting incoherently through the glass at me. Not angrily shouting though, it seemed very heartfelt. However, in a drunken rampage with blue and red lights flashing behind you, face smushed on the glass door to my JOB, it becomes a little less meaningful. In the midst of me stepping outside to explain the situation to our county sheriffs, Kat, Tom’s half-fiance, decided she was going to make an appearance in the bar, where Tom was absolutely wrecked from drinking nine double shots of Bacardi, straight, in four hours.  By 11:30, Tom and Kat were in a screaming match in the middle of the dance floor and Chris and Will were in the back screaming the most obscene things they could possibly think of. Smith made his way up to the bar to join the right-minded.  “I told you that I don’t love her like I love you! You don’t trust me! I just want to make sure you and I are right for each other before I come back over all the time. She’s a great friend to me.” “Great friend, eh? I’ll show you a great friend,” Tom slurred. “I-- I been-- was the one-- and I loved you.”  “Alright,” I turned to Abbie, “This is getting ridiculous.” “Yo, what’s up Nicole? Perfect timing. It’s a shit show.” Abbie said and I turned around to see a familiar face next to Nicole.  “What’s new?” Nicole chuckled. “What’s up?” I said, starstruck. I smiled, “What are you doing here?”  “I brought her out for a couple drinks,” Nicole interjected. “She said she had a long day at work.”  “Well, I just can’t understand why. You INSISTED we stay up all night.” “What?! I did not,” Kristen said and laughed. The flashbacks were immediate and intense. “I distinctly remember you begging me to watch Pulp Fiction with you.” “That doesn’t sound like something I’d do at all,” I said with a smile. “What are you drinking? Malibu?”  Kristen looked at me, trying to hide a smile, “I think I’ll just take a Busch Lite.” “Um...,” Nicole started, slowly examining Kristen and I, “yeah... I’ll have a cranberry vodka please.” She looked at Abbie. “I’ll get it. Single or double?” I could see Abbie looking at me with a very confused expression. Nicole looked at me, then at Kristen, and then at Abbie, “double.”  As the night progressed, Kat and Tom wound up hooking up in the men’s restroom. Instead of inhabiting the one and only stall, like normal drunks, they shut the entire bathroom down, so the rest of us all took turns in the women’s restroom.  Will and Chris had calmed down a bit, and were laughing at a table close by. Smith went back to play more pool with a regular, and Kristen and Nicole sat at the bar with Abbie and I.  At 1:15, Abbie called last call (she was much louder than I was).  “So what’s the plan after this?” Nicole looked at me.  “Don’t ask me, I live with my friend,” I said and she laughed.  “Well, let’s bring the party back to my house.”  “Sure, sounds good to me. I’m gonna have play catch up, though, with these drunk motherfuckers.” “I think I’ll pass,” Abbie said, “I need to be home with my kiddos tonight.” “Who said you were invited?” I shot a look at Abbie. Nicole and I laughed.  “Well, fine, I didn’t wanna come anyway!” “Kidding,” I said with a soft smile. “Alright, sounds like a plan, just let us close the bar up real quick and we’ll meet you there. You might see if you can swing by Kerr’s and pick up some alcohol before they quit selling.” Bars and gas stations have to quit selling alcohol by 1:30 a.m. in the state of Missouri. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the house.” “See ya,” Kristen said and they made their way out the door. I smiled, “later.” “Chris, Will, Tom! Come pay your tabs!”  My friends made their way to the bar, debit cards in hand.  “So after this we’re gonna go to Nicole’s house if ya’ll wanna come.” “Man, Cuz, I think I’ll pass. Me and Chris both gotta work in the morning, and I think Tom is gonna need some help getting home.” “Where’d Kat go?” Abbie asked. “Not a clue, but he’s passed out in the men’s bathroom.” “Oh my God, this is exactly like last Thursday.”

[bicodeofhonour]

imo one of the many cool things to come from Spider-Verse is that folks are just unveiling their Spidersonas and that’s a trend I can jump on. 

[no pics cuz I cant draw....yet.]  Her name is Roe Mack, she’s black and 5″9ish in height.

her super hero alias is: The Spider

her outfit is more like Miles’, she’s got plain black leggings to start with and a short sleeve hoodie with the black and red webs colour scheme but the main Spider insignia is Silver. She’s also got the Mask but hers leaves her mouth and chin uncovered. she’s typically got a protective suit under the main fit, one that she designed herself.

she’s 17 at this moment, and she’s been doing this Spider thing for three years, basically since she was 14.

tw for cannibalism mention under the cut!

Abilities: spidey strength, crawling, spidey sense, the usual. And, when she eats anything alive she can copy it’s abilities for a limited time. eg, if Roe bit a mutant and tasted their blood she’d have their abilities for about 24 hours. how long she can keep their skills and how much of those personal abilities she’d be able to use really depends on how much she eats. her teeth are very sharp. her stomach is pretty strong so she’s immune to most if not all ingested poisons/toxins. 

the main Backstory: Roe’s an orphan, grew up in a foster home til she was 5 until she was fostered by her universe’s May and Ben Parker, this lasted until Peter Parker was born and his parents died and the couple knew they had to take him in but couldn’t support two kids .  Roe was painfully sent back to the Home when she was 10 and Peter was 3. Roe understands why it happened and doesnt hold anything against the Parkers for their decision but feelings were hurt, so as much as she knows May and Ben still love her she doesn’t let herself think too much of them as her parents.  Then Ben is assaulted by Oscorp operatives for “digging too deep” as a reporter and Roe is 12 when she’s dragging his body to the closest hospital after finding him in an alley on her her way home, sitting there til midnight covered in his blood waiting to hear the final news of his death. She calls May on a payphone nearby to break the news, and in the midst of the grief Roe has never felt more guilty in her life.  A year later and Roe’s waist deep in whatever the fuck Oscorp is into, ready and willing to stick her head under water to find out why Ben was murdered but then she’s bit by a freaky spider and this is really why thirteen year olds shouldnt feel tasked with hunting down their parent figure’s murderers.  Upon the realisation that the waking up very much not in her room and the constant hunger, and sudden flexibility and speed and. stickiness. has more to do with the spider bite than the trauma and exhaustion and such of the last year, Roe re-evaluates some things. (at first she’d thought she was a mutant, one visit to the school on a particularly . eventful day, had her praying she was wrong.)  At the insistence of a (very worried) May and an equally concerned nurse Rio Morales (who is frankly sick and tired of seeing this child younger than her own son constantly in need of medical attention), Roe takes it.. easy for the next year, applying to a good school, working out her powers, doing some therapy and enrolling in self-defense classes. New York already has heroes after all, it was childish for a 13 year old to think they could change anything by infiltrating the Osborn household (as a babysitter... long story). Then on yet another world ending crisis day Roe makes the realisation that her new-found abilities can help her prevent the worst case scenario for other people and suddenly she’s leaping into action as the Spider.

which is at first as fun as it can be, until Roe makes a startling discovery of one of her abilities - if she consumes something alive she can take on their features for a limited time. lets not talk about the exact circumstances in which this discovery was made. deciding the pros outweighed the hints of cannibalism, Roe settles on capitalising on all her abilities - hence, the open mouthed mask.

from then on, things continue to happen as they do and, now, Roe’s a 17 year old vigilante, simultaneously respected and reviled by the citizens of her city, way too used to the taste of blood in her mouth with extremely questionable sleeping habits. She makes time to visit lil “cousin” Peter and May on the weekends, and somehow finds the time to maintain her scholarship to Visions, the school she’d applied to on Rio’s recommendation.

Plus, she has Wolverine’s number on speed-dial, saved as Logan (and how that happened is also a very long story). 

[idorkish]

Bobby’s Angel Part 7

A/N: Book 1 of The Reaper’s Angel is halfway done! This was a hard chapter for me to write. It was longer but I felt the need to cut it down. This may be a hard chapter for some to read, there is mention of and alluding to child abuse. The song lyrics used are from Elvis’s song “I Love You Because”

Word count: 1897

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Pt 5 Pt 6

Tag list:

@mrstellerwinston @howmanywastedmoments @lolsthecat @soafanficluvr1@redwoodog @chaosmieu @khyharah @5sos1dsex @opies-oldlady  @queen-ofthe-bikers-soa @mrsirishboru @fortheloveofthesoa@samcrolivesforever  @ineedthesons @mwesterfeld1985 @divathelover@happys-crazy-queen22 @kitkat1690 @sons-of-anarchy-imagines-blr  @tellermorelli  @juiceboxxortiz  @ladyannikki @mybabysons @jade770

Angel sat at the table surrounded by her family. Family dinners with all her uncles at Gemma's was something she always looked forward to. Tonight, instead of happily eating, she was pushing the food around her plate. She had no real appetite, despite not having eaten since the day before. “What's wrong princess?” Her uncle piney nudged her arm softly as he leaned close. Angel just shrugged and put her fork down. “Not hungry?” Her response was only another shrug again. Bobby looked up and noticed his daughter not eating. “Angel?” The men around the table grew quiet as they turned their attention to Angel, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

She wanted to eat, she really did. But her mother and George’s words continued to echo in her mind.

-Flashback-

“Mommy? May I have a snack please? I finished all my homework already!” Angel beamed. Since her mother had started dating and moved them in with George and his two children, Angel had been trying her best to be a good child and not bother her mother. Susan rolled her eyes and ignored her daughter, instead going back to cleaning up. It was a rare day that everyone was home. George’s children were outside playing in the yard already while Angel had been forced to do her homework first. George was sitting in his recliner reading his newspaper. “Mommy?”Angel got up and stepped closer to Susan. “Damnit Angel, can’t you do anything yourself! Don’t you see I’m busy right now?” Susan slammed down the rag and stormed out the kitchen, leaving Angel confused and hurt. Taking a deep breath, Angel went to the fridge and pulled out everything she needed for a small sandwich.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Angel froze at the sound of his voice.

“I- I was making a sandwich. I’m hungry.” Angel didn’t need to turn around to know that George probably had a scowl on his face. She wasn’t sure what she had done to make him not like her, she always listened to him and never asked for anything that she didn’t absolutely need. Even then, she waited until she was with her daddy or Aunt Gemma.

George closed the distance between the two and snatched the food away from Angel. “I’ve told you this before. You eat when we eat. Not before, not after. You don’t need to eat more than that. Now get the hell out my fucking kitchen. You’re already fat enough.”

Angel glared up at the man. She had never felt hatred for another person before but the only thing she could feel for this so-called man was pure hatred. Angel felt the rage building up inside her as she clenched her fist. All she needed to do was pull her arm back and hit him where Jax and Opie taught her would hurt the most. As she was ready to hit the man, her mother stormed in “Angel Munson! What the hell do you think you’re about to do?” She bellowed.

Angel spun to face her mother as tears filled her eyes. “I was just trying to make a sandwich! I told you I was hungry and you promised when I was done with homework you’d make me something and you didn’t! You never keep your promises anymore!”

Susan stared at her daughter before grabbing her arm and dragging her down the hall to her bedroom. “Don’t you dare yell at me ever again little girl! I am not your father and will not tolerate you being a disrespectful brat! Do you see Lily and James acting this way to their father or to me? You should strive to be more like that!”

Angel yanked her arm away “I’m glad you’re not Daddy! He loves me at least! You like Lily and James better anyway! You only keep me around so Daddy gives you money! You don’t love me so get out my room!” Angel tried to keep the tears from spilling over, all she wanted was her daddy to make them go away but she had another day before she’d be able to spend time with him.

Susan scoffed and slapped the girl across her face. “You ungrateful little brat. You can just stay in here tonight. No dinner for you. Go to bed and if I find you outside this bedroom tonight, you will regret it.”

Angel refused to cry in front of them. The last time she did, Susan had locked her into the closet until she calmed down. Instead, Angel just climbed into her bed and threw the blankets over her head. She would be glad to be out the house for the weekend and with her real family.

-end flashback-

Angel pushed her chair back and hurried out of the room, running out to the backyard. Bobby stood and quickly followed her. She had been acting this way for almost a year now and it was scaring Bobby. She had shrugged off lots of things she once loved, but he assumed it was just a phase. Angel sat on the ground, picking at the grass blades beneath her legs. Bobby stopped and just stared at his little girl. The moonlight seemed to cast light only on her. Her dark brown curls glistened under the light. “Angel? Baby girl?”

Angel glanced up at her father before going back to picking at the grass. How could she tell him what was going on? She knew if she did, he'd go yell at her mom and George, and that would make everything worse. Instead, Angel kept quiet. She would tell him eventually, but as long as she was forced to stay at her mother’s house, she would never say what went on.

Bobby walked over and sat on the grass next to his daughter. He knew something was going on; she had been acting so odd lately and he wasn’t sure what to do. So he did the only thing he knew how to do, he laid on the grass with hands behind his head and stared up at the sky and began to sing. “I love you because, because my heart is lighter, honey every time, every time I'm walking by your side, and I love you, yes I love you because the future is a little bit brighter, and the door, the door of my happiness, you open wide...”

Angel scooted closer to her father, until she was touching his side. Bobby wrapped his arm around Angel and pulled her down so that she was snuggled to his side. “Talk to me baby girl. I can’t fix anything if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Angel snuggled into her father and huffed, “You’re just gonna get mad Daddy.”

Bobby sat up and pulled her onto his lap. Lifting her chin so their eyes met, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I promise to do my best not to get mad. I can’t promise more than that though.”

Angel made a face but nodded. She told him how Susan and George had been treating her, how George made comments about her eating too much and being ungrateful, and how Susan just let him say and treat her anyway he wanted. True to his promise, Bobby remained calm and didn’t get mad. Inside he was seething with anger, but he refused to let his daughter witness that. He didn’t want her to feel worse than she already felt. “I’m so sorry you have to do through that baby. You, nor any other child, should ever be told those things. I’m sad that you didn’t tell me sooner but I get it. I will do everything I can to make you feel safe again.”

Angel wiped the tears away from her face and nodded. She found it hard to look her father in the eyes still. “I don’t like Mommy. Why can’t I just stay with you?”

“Is that what you really want baby? ‘Cuz if it is, you know I will do everything in my power to get you away from your mother.”

Angel stared up with wide eyes and nodded her head frantically. “Yes Daddy! I don’t want to be there anymore! I hate it there! I hate George! I don’t want want to be with mommy anymore, I just want to stay with you!” Angel started sobbing again and clung to her father’s shirt.

Bobby took in a deep shuddering breath. He had never heard his daughter talk like that and for her to claim to hate someone was new. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he held her tight. “I promise Angel, I’m going to do everything to get you away from that. You know you have everyone here to talk to and care for you. I promise you will never be without someone telling you they love you or making sure you’re ok. I love you so much baby, you are my world.”

After Angel exhausted herself from crying in his arms, Bobby finally made his way inside. He walked her to the guest room that Gemma always let her use and laid her on the bed. Bobby made sure to tuck her in and placed her stuffed puppy in her arms before leaving the room. Making his way back to the group, he saw that everyone was still there. “Sorry about that guys,” he groaned out as he fell into an empty seat in the living room. Over the next few hours he explained what was going on and his plan to get custody of Angel. He knew that it would be hard but he was determined to ensure his daughter was happy and safe. “Gemma, I’m really gonna need help with this. I don’t know where to start in any of this.”

Gemma took a drag of her cigarette and nodded as Bobby spoke. “I’ll call around lawyers in the morning. We’ll also start looking at houses nearby. You’re going to want something bigger for you two to live in. The sooner, the better. We can get it furnished quickly. She already has a lot of stuff here, at your place, and at the club. They’ll see that she’s taken care of better with us anyway. We’ll get her Bobby.”

Bobby could only nod. His head was spinning with ideas of what needed to be done and how to get it done. “I’ve already been looking at houses. Found something a couple days ago. Has a yard, couple bedrooms, garage, nice kitchen. I could pay for most of it. I’ve been saving since she was born anyway.”

“Well boys. We all better prepare for this. We got a lot of work to do come morning,” Gemma put out her cigarette and stood, “Bobby you’re free to spend the night with Angel here. Tig, you and the baby are welcomed to stay, her bassinet is in Thomas’s room. Everyone else, get the hell out my house,” she smiled and blew kisses at the laughing men before retreating for the night.

Bobby climbed into bed and pulled his daughter close. Yea, come morning they would have a lot of work to do but it would be well worth it. He would keep his promise to Angel, he would do anything in his and the club’s power to make sure Angel stayed with him.

[cupkayke]

For the fanfiction questions thing: 1, 3, 6, 11, 17, 21, 25, 27, 36, 40, 41, 46, 50 and 51 (I hope these aren't too many)

 Not too many at all! I like talking about myself lol.

Under a cut because longggggg.

1) What was the first fandom you got involved in?

Oh gosh, definitely Tokyo Mew Mew. I never wrote fanfics for it but I co-owned and then owned an Avidgamers RP site for TMM called MewUSA back in like 2004-2006. Avidgamers was a forum site engine that was pretty damn nice for its time (also FREE, that was a plus) and I spent HOURS creating characters, storylines, and layouts for it. There were TONS of individual in-character boards and I think we may have had up to 100 unique users at one point. The detailed characters/plotlines were BASICALLY fanfiction- I think I did an entire rp with myself between a few of my characters once- and it was a whole lot of fun. Some of the OCs from that site were repurposed into a longrunning rp I have with @liarino on AIM and I am FOREVER grateful that I met them through that site

Fanfic-wise, it was Full Metal Alchemist. I had a horrendous LITERAL self-insert OC fic called ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ that was based on an RP I did with a different friend. Plot? ‘Fangirl of FMA LITERALLY FALLS INTO HER TELEVISION AND WAKES UP IN THE UNIVERSE AND FALLS IN LOVE WITH ALPHONSE’. The end. I never finished it but holy shitballs it got SO MANY REVIEWS. I’m surprised how many people actually enjoyed it- I did get some criticisms but despite the fact that it was so cringe-worthy that I took it down it still got sooooo much positive feedback. I sometimes wonder if people would still be reading it on ff.net if I hadn’t taken it down the last time I overhauled that account. I still have some Ouran oneshots on there that I wrote TEN FUCKING YEARS AGO that still get reviews. Dayum. 

3) What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

I have to say it’s a tie between the Tokyo Mew Mew fandom circa 2003-2006 and the Ouran fandom from about 2006-2008. My experience with them was limited to RP boards but I had the MOST FUN running MewUSA and a long-running Gaia RP ‘Hosting the Hosts’ because of the warm response to the concepts. The TMM fandom especially was super creative even back in the day- there were so many fan mew mews because the formula was so easy and that was one series that I didn’t mind OCs because the concept was easily applied. In-universe, the creator could have easily made more Mew Mews. So the possibilities were endless. That’s also the fandom I learned the majority of my writing skills from, even if I did get called out a couple times for shitty RPing. I got better and I was so sad when the engine finally kicked the bucket. Aside from the RP sites the TMM fandom had sooooo many fansites dedicated to the show- my other favorite being Neko Tokyo. I think that site might still be up… 

Ouran was limited to that RP I ran but damn I never had one so fun. That group of writers was hysterical and I actually met one of them in person because by sheer coincidence she lived near me. She moved soon after we figured it out but she came back for a convention and we hung out all weekend. Unfortunately I don’t remember her name and I lost her phone number T_T I wonder where she is sometimes. I wonder where a lot of my fan friends from back then are. The problem with early 2000s internet.

Tho I think Boueibu will be my new modern fave fandom.

6) List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

 Ohhhh dear. I’ll keep it to ones that I actually ship characters in because a lot of my early fandoms were MYSELF AS AN OC X HOT MALE CHARACTER. OTL. I was a weeb. Most of these are fandoms I’ve rped in rather than written fanfiction for, however.

Tokyo Mew Mew- PuddingxTart. I like to read IchigoxKisshu fanfics sometimes but that ship is highly problematic looking back on it lol

Code Lyoko - THROWBACK. JeremiexAelita. Adorable.

Ouran HSHC - I’m fond of HunnyxHaruhi (as evidenced by my mostly abandoned ff.net account) but basically AnyonexHaruhi is super cute. I think I read a fic once where Haruhi was in a relationship with ALL of the guys and it was actually super interesting. I don’t think I can find it again, tho.

Harry Potter - Drarry.

Walking Dead - CarolxDaryl FTW. and Richonne. I’ve toyed with the idea of writing fanfics for WD but never quite get up to it.

Mass Effect - Shakarian. Fuck yes. Fun fact I have an unfinished smutfic on the mass effect kinkmeme livejournal that I will EVENTUALLY FINISH ONE DAY AND PUBLISH UNDER MY NAME buuuut for now it will remain an anonymous abandoned fic.

Boueibu - …All of them? OTL I can’t pick one ship… tho if you force me… IoRyuu and BeppuMoto OT3.

YOI - I think everyone’s OTP is Victuuri.

11) Who is your current OTP?

Victuuri.

17)  Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite?

Since Boueibu is my current fandom- I immediately was drawn to Enatsu since s1 had a relatively large focus on them but I’ve kind of fallen out of actively shipping them. I like them as a couple and I think they’re def boyfriends material but they’re definitely a comfortable ship. Their personalities are just… drama-free, so their relationship to me just seems like a quiet background relationship. IoRyuu is a little more volatile and I really like ships where there is a lot of between-the-lines interpretation and potential for conflict. Also I just really like the Beppus

21) What was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. The aformentioned ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ FMA OC Mary Sue Self insert fic. Definitely the first one I ever published on the interwebs. Although I think TECHNICALLY my very first one was a Pokemon story that I was writing for a little kid neighbor of mine back when I was like… 11. I think I had just gotten a computer in my room and I remember typing it up and drawing some cover art for it… it was basically an expanded version of the episode where Meowth and Pikachu were handcuffed together or something… except there were more Pokemon involved and ALL of the characters were friends. Like Brock and Tracey were both with Ash and Misty and all of the Team Rocket people were friends for some reason. Idk I was a weird child.

Ohhh maybe a tie for the FMA fic was a Code Lyoko one I wrote around the same time called ‘Desert Rose’. I can’t remember now which was published first because I deleted them all. Another Mary Sue OC fic but I actually am still kind of proud of how I expanded the Lyoko universe in my head. I came up with new areas to Lyoko and like a central region and how they all connected. Nevermind the fact that the girl with a CAT THAT COULD OPERATE THE COMPUTER was the main character and obviously I shipped her with Odd because YumiUlrich and JeremieAeilita were OTPs. It was weird.

25) What’s your most popular fanfic?

If the story was still up it might have been ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ because that fic still haunts me. Buuut it’s either ‘Naptime’ or ‘Desire’, one of my two Hunny x Haruhi fics from my Ouran days that I left up on ff.net for posterity. I have no desire to go read the cringe and find out which one has more hits but I bet it’s the G-rated ‘Naptime’ cuz ‘Desire’ is a) the first M rated Hunny x Haruhi fic on ff.net EVER and b) really really bad porn written by like, 16-year-old me. Oops. It’s a smidgen OOC on the part of Haruhi if I remember right buuut I actually still stand by the idea that Hunny is not as childlike as he seems.

Oh dear maybe that’s why I like Yumoto so much. Similar character type. OTL

27) What do you hate more: Coming up with titles or writing summaries?

I feel like I’m horrendous at both but lately it’s titles that are giving me trouble. 2 of the 3 Boueibu fics I’ve written had different working titles that got changed the second the story went up to be published. I’m having a brain fart and can’t remember them but both ‘All the Pretty Little Horses’ and ‘Completely’ were titled something really stupid. And your giftfic was ‘?’ until I decided on the central theme lol.

36) What’s your favourite genre to write?

I don’t like reading romance novels but I love writing shippy stuff. Tension, build….smut

40)  What do you struggle the most with in your writing?

Pacing in longer works, definitely. Also just… keeping up with it. I am a horrible procrastinator and if I don’t actually have a deadline with external consequences then I never get anything done. I can’t set my own deadlines because I can always move them. I can’t get my family or friends to set them for me because I know they’ll forgive me if I fail (how horrible lol). I have tons upon tons of unfinished fics from fandoms past sitting somewhere in the depths of my word documents folder and about as many original short stories. I have so many ideas but because I get easily distracted and also because I am now working full time and suffer from typical adult exhaustion I can only put a fraction of them on paper. 

My inner critic is also a fucking bitch. I can’t get her to shut her face long enough to write a sentence sometimes. Again, I have to have a deadline looming before I can put her on mute most times. If I have infinite time, she doesn’t shut up and makes me rewrite a sentence 100 times because it sounds stupid.

41) List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

Ahahahaha… I don’t have 5 simultaneously because I can’t just… not finish reading something before moving onto the next one. I don’t also read things that are unfinished unless they sound REALLY interesting because I’m stupid impatient. But I guess for my current fandom (Boueibu) I’ll link 5 fics I read recently that I liked! 

1) Pink Blood - @magiccatprincess (okay actually this is one I’m going to read soon because it looked interesting… so it fits the question lol)

2) tuesdays - @vagarius (because how can I not love something written for me?

3) Liar - BlackJoker77 (A whoooole lot accomplished here in not a lot of words. Also, Yumoto character study/reading between the lines? Yush.)

4) ….. ok I ran out of ideas. I don’t bookmark anything OTL. I’ll come back to this question at another time with an ACTUAL answer.

46) If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why?

I’m most proud of ‘Completely’ at the moment- I really like how I pulled off Ryuu’s voice and it’s most definitely a scene I wanted to see written… so I’m happy that I was able to provide that scene

50) How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction?

It was basically an extention of RPing for the writing portion of it- ‘Nice of Me to Drop In’ was basically a cleaned up RP and when it wasn’t rping it was fan gratification for the other early fics I did. As a kid I used to (and still sometimes do) make up stories in my head when I was about to go to sleep, and a lot of them were episodes of my favorite shows that I wanted to see. So I’d put some of them on paper. And then it moved into the ~romance~ category; I was a hopeless romantic as a teenager and like a lot of teenage girls I was kind of horny so fanfiction was a way to explore my sexuality in the comfort of my own head, basically. I still like me a good smutfic and bonus points if it’s romantic AND smutty. My bf can definitely tell when I’ve been reading something naughty….

51) Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

Okay, Imma do both! And I have 2 things to rant about because I can’t shut up.

Rant: This is more of a thing that I hate about MYSELF reading fanfics, but I hate that I get turned off of fics so quickly because of writing style. When I can push past beginners writing mistakes or mediocre quality writing I can sometimes find gem fics with plots/characterizations I find adorable, but more often than not I click out of fics after just a few sentences because I can’t stand poor writing. And I feel so elitist about it! Fanfics are free, fan-generated content. A lot of fanfics are written by kids or beginner writers. I have to keep reminding myself that not every fanfic author has gone to school for writing. They may not know the conventions of literature. They may not realize that they’re head-hopping in the middle of paragraphs. They may not know the proper way to punctuate dialogue (and I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW until grad school!!!!). If I let mistakes get in the way of content I may miss out on an up and coming writer. And lord knows I was horrendous when I first started. Everyone starts somewhere. I hate that it takes me so long to get out of teacher/writing student mode and truck through some writing that may not technically be the best but their heart is in the right place. 

Rant2: I don’t like how isolated fanfiction can feel sometimes. It seems like people don’t comment on fics as much as they used to, and I see these posts going around on tumblr about how authors LOOOOOVE comments and want more of them but then comments just… don’t appear. It’s not so hard to post one thing you really liked about the story, and even one thing you didn’t like. Comments help authors grow.I also don’t like how it’s so hard to find a beta reader or three to bounce ideas off of and proofread your work.

Gush: I love communities. I love the events fanfic authors put together. I love how when communities get tight-knit how everyone builds each other up and gives one another ideas. I just love fanfiction in general, really

aaaaaand SHEW. That was a lot. BUT DEF NOT TOO MUCH

[taming-my-unquiet-mind]

It’s not that simple

I thought stable meant stable. I mean I take the meds every evening, and though they don’t let me sleep and cause some dizzy spells, they are working really great. I reacted so incredibly well on the smallest dose I was really hesitant to increase to the next level. However, a couples days prior to upping I could tell a difference. That seems to be the rotation I will be following until I get to a respectable dose.

The anxiety is back. I woke up with it. Not entirely foreign, but definitely not the norm. I’ve started the deep breaths again which sucks. A lot. The weight is starting to increase in my chest, my shoulders are having a harder time staying relaxed, my mind seems resolute on refusing to focus. And then it shifts to that darker and yet scintillatingly greater place. 

The addictive delusion of grandeur, my internal monologue of self centered thinking starts. It dances and swirls around the equally destructive increased sex drive, which arrives in tandem with these thoughts and creates a double helix of bad ideas. Even now I sit here thinking about delicious mistakes, impulsive behaviors, terrible actions I wouldn’t be able to come back from. And while picturing shameful fantasies I simply think “I can pick up the pieces later”. My sexuality kicks into overdrive and I’m desperate to find a man to satiate it- ugh that sounds so stupid.And, ya. I said man. Bisexuality doesn’t really present much since I have been with the wife for so long. I don’t bother defining cuz there is no point. I’m not a gay or a bi, I’m a “Her”. But in these moods, I am as straight as an arrow and yearn to be man handled and fucked into oblivion. I know that’s crass but it’s the only thing I can think of. I grit my teeth and try to focus on work as best as I can. It’s painfully awkward to speak to anyone in this state. Mercifully, the mood passes like a receding wave and the pressure on my chest returns. Maybe I should increase the meds sooner... maybe my body fights the improved mood too hard. But I wonder if it has anything to do with the exercise yesterday.

I used to condition daily in high school for basketball. I would go to the elementary school basketball court in my neighborhood and practice without requirement because the act of pushing myself was addictive. I would run miles around my block in a neighborhood were no one went running. In college the internal discipline continued as gym days were any day that ended in Y. Then something happened in my late twenties; the long time love of physical exertion abandoned me. I wasn’t the same. I somehow managed to run a couple marathons but it was during the reprieves of the disorder. Since the bipolar hit in full force (6 years ago? 5?) I’ve gained almost 30 pounds, become a sedentary, miserable, gluttonous sloth. I’ve been told liquor and alcohol stimulate the dopamine receptors in your brain mimicking the feelings of happiness. It makes sense then that people (read: I) tend to find refuge in these vices.

Since the meds, the yearning has stopped, at least for the vices. The liquor impulses have receded significantly (which is amazing but I’ll explain that later).  Yesterday, I challenged my meds to see where I was at after the mrs. inspired.

She played golf this weekend and a 2 hour tennis match. Yesterday she played another round of golf in 95 degree weather then played another 2 hour match outside on blazing clay courts. She kicked ass- and I was there to support. Something I miss out on constantly when unmedicated. She walks off the court as red as a pomegranate and exhausted but happy. I felt, in comparison, like a sack of fat. So instead of joining her for dinner, I went for a run.

It was still rather warm, so I assumed I would collapse after the first half mile. I turned on my run tracker and set off hesitantly. Mile one flew by like a breeze. I felt almost manic in my happiness. Turning the corner after the next block, I decided I was determined to run 2 miles, and found to have the energy to do so, so I kicked up the speed (which by the way isn't much- an 11:30 mile is rather good for me so "kicking it up” is a 11:00). I typically run with music, but marathon training has shown me the benefits of running with only your breathing as a soundtrack. That’s what I choose to do this run. It allows me to ensure that I don’t short myself and start wheezing too early. But by the time I hit the mid way point on my second mile I could feel an ache settling in. I began to panic. I wasn't ready to quit but I didn't think I could complete the 2 miles if I continued the same way. My last recourse was to use my phone as a speaker. I know that's pretty obnoxious but I didn’t care. Speaker in my hand I slowed slightly, determined to hit my target. I started the internal conversation I used to have with myself.

I scolded my quads, angry at my body for thinking it could stop before my mind commanded it. Then a song came on, one of my youth. One that I would use to sink into the pain and lean into my illness as a sort of comfort. I almost skipped it but something pulled at me. I kept it on, and went back to my run. Bipolar hasn’t allowed me to enjoy music from certain bands, because as soon as I hear it I immediately sink into a dark place. Jimmy Eat World is one. Their track “Kill” is the worst. As I ran, it the opening guitar strumming began to play.

Funny how I'm nervous still I've always been the easy kill I guess I always will

The more it sang, the faster I went. I listened to the lyrics. I started to sing. I realized I was singing to myself. Simply mouthing at first, then I began to whisper the familiar bridge between huffing breaths and felt a hit to the heart. 30 seconds into it I realized I was addressing myself, the bipolar victim that I’d been for years.

Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain I need answers for what all the waiting I've done means You kill me, you've got some nerve, but can't face your mistakes

I pushed on. My phone’s GPS interrupted and told me I had hit two miles. I ignored it and focused on the song in the background. I tore out.

So go on love Leave while there's still hope for escape Got to take what you can these days There's so much ahead So much regret

That was it- I was sprinting. I was screaming at myself in my own head. Angry that I hadn’t been able to do this in so long. Angry that I couldn’t or wouldn’t push myself. Angry that it had been years since my muscles were forced to build up that lactic acid because I fucking said so. Then the lyrics that are normally my undoing approached. At the anticipation of the next words, I know I'm about to break

I can't help it baby, this is who I am

Despite my wants, tears begin to stream down my face

Sorry, but I can't just go turn off how I feel

Impossibly, I push harder , run faster. I want to force it out. I don't want to hear this any more.

You kill me, you build me up, but just to watch me break

I scream. Out loud. To no one. And everyone.

I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away

I stifle one more scream as I lunge the last few steps.

"Workout ended. Total distance 2.25 miles. Average Pace 10 minutes 42 seconds. Fastest pace, 8 minutes 59 seconds"

A smirk breaks across my face. At least as well as a smirk can creep along your face when you are dying from over exertion. I began to walk in order to regaining the breath I cannot find. Laughing as I finish the loop, I feel lighter than I have in years.

[alex-guerin]

The Misadventures of my Poor Punky...

So, I am no good when it comes to death. Especially not when it’s someone I care about. I can’t look at them once they’re gone. I can’t be in the same room as them. I have to be as far away as politely possible. Needless to say, I’m great at wakes, I hold up the back wall of the funeral home to make sure it doesn’t fall in on everyone. Very important job, you know. 

Annnnyway, since my Punky girl passed away on her bed, which happened to be in my room, my parents let her stay there (it was like 4 in the morning, not much else they could do). I was at work, my room was blocked off from screwy Louie, she was fine in here. 

I went out for much needed breakfast with my co-workers yesterday morning, then met up with @kishikeahi for coffee and hugs, before making my way back to town to get my taxes done. Once they were done, I had texted my mom asking if she was still in my room. Mom said she was, but her and dad were getting ready to take her out, she’d let me know when she was taken care of. 

...that apparently is where my poor Punky’s misadventure began. 

Please keep in mind, she was a ten year old Rottweiler. Who weighed roughly 75 lbs when she passed. ...she’d been in my room for a few hours, so, I mean, she literally became a dead weight (I’m so tired right now, please pardon my dark, morbid humor, it’s keeping me semi sane right now). So, it literally took both my parents to lift her up off the floor. And shuffle across my room to the door, and then had to lean her against my TV table while mom opened the door more so they could get out. And my poor baby, she was so long legged, apparently her back legs were just sticking up, and just the way my mom kept describing them, gads, the mental image I got was just hysterical. So, they finally get her out of my room, would make it a few feet and have to lean her against something to rest, or to open a gate, and then the front door, which her poor back legs apparently kept hitting against a few times, and my mom kept apologizing to her for it. Finally got her outside, rested her on my brother’s motorcycle while my dad opened the back of his truck, and then they carefully laid her in the back, made sure she was still all covered up and comfy in her favorite blue blankie, shut the truck and set to work trying to get hold of a guy my mom used to work with at an animal clinic. John was the one who, when the vets had to put an animal down, or one passed on the table, he would handle them so gently and carefully, and take care of them/handle their cremations. So, my mom was trying to get hold of him so that they could take Punky up for me.

...whenever my mom tried calling, he wasn’t there. She left him a voicemail, called the shelter, left a message for him leaving her number and my dad’s, and had to leave for work. Well, no one ever called either of them yesterday. 

Now, when I finally wandered my numb and bone deep exhausted ass home at like 5:30 in the afternoon, I noticed my dad’s truck was backed into the driveway. It’s never backed into the driveway. I instantly knew she was back there and just didn’t look, and when my dad came out of the garage to kind of stand between me and the truck, that definitely confirmed that as of 5:30 in the evening, she was still waiting in the back of his truck. Which, is terrible, cuz my baby HATES car rides! Everything about them! And poor thing had to wait in her Papa’s truck for ages! 

Anyway, I didn’t question anything, no one said anything, so I went to bed and around 10 o’clock this morning I heard my dad leave the house. Didn’t think anything of it. It’s Saturday, he was probably going for coffee. No, apparently he’d gotten a call from John saying what time the shelter would be open to and that there should be someone there, bring her up and she’d be taken care of. Why my dad didn’t just go straight there, I dunno. But he didn’t. And when he got there at noon, found out John had left at 11:30. And no one at the receptionist’s desk was being even remotely helpful. They flatout told him they wouldn’t take her, no he couldn’t just leave her there, and actually asked him if he had an appointment. Like, WTF!? So, yeah, my baby spent the night in the back of her Papa’s truck, and had to go for a dreaded car ride, just to get turned away by assholes at this dumbass shelter. So, my dad (who was already distraught over us losing her, and had apparently been sobbing himself when he came in to help mom with her when she first passed), started freaking out, didn’t know what to do. Here it is, almost 1 pm on a Saturday afternoon, a holiday weekend at that. And his poor grandpuppy is in the back of his black pickup truck. Oh, and did I mention Northern IL has entered the Twilight Zone and it’s been in the mid-60s all weekend and is supposed to continue to be until like Wednesday? Yeah, go figure!

My dad starts texting my mom --- who was at work --- totally freaking out, didn’t know what to do. My mom finally called him and told him to quick hurry up and call the vet office we’d been taking Punky too. They could help figure out what to do with her. Well, the office closed at 1, and my dad missed them. So, now my mom is freaking out because oh God! They can’t keep my poor baby in the back of Papa’s truck all weekend! Can’t keep her there until TUESDAY!!! What are they gonna do?!

Finally, one of the women my mom work’s with mentioned the place their shelter uses/takes their animals to. So, my mom gets back on the phone with my dad, ready to tell him about it, only to find out he’s already on the road to the Emergency Vet Clinic 45minutes away. He’d gotten hold of them, they were open, and yes, they dealt with our vet office, they’d be happy to take care of her for us, just bring her up. So, he took her up there and reassured my mom that she was in good hands cuz the people who came out to get her out of the truck were apparently so gentle with her, and took good care of her as they carried her to the building, annnnnnnnd once again, my baby and her long legs! They had to stop and talked to her, telling her things were okay, they just needed to move her leg cuz they couldn’t get her through the door with her leg sticking out like it was. 

So, when I finally gathered up the courage tonight to text my mom and ask if she’d made it up to TAILS (where I thought she was going/where she originally was supposed to be going. The assholes who turned my dad and her away), my mom came down to talk to me and tell me all this and was like, “Yeeeeeeeah...we didn’t wanna tell you that she had to stay the night in the truck. Especially since, we didn’t like that she had to stay the night in the truck! Not with as much as she hated car rides!”

But, she is in good hands now, and we should be hearing from them in about 7 to 10 days and I’ll have her back in my room again....probably sob all over her ashes, but I’ll have her back in my room where she belongs.

Oh my poor Punkykins. Even in death, life keeps fucking us over, huh?