#and tomorrow we are watching two more episodes of midnight mass

[mysecret-hideout]

So pumped to watch Fried Green Tomatoes with my beans; she’s gonna heckin LOVE it 😤😤😤😤😤😤

@therockywhorerpictureshow

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 1: Wolf Moon (Part One)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: Welcome to Episode One! Buckle in, this series really takes on a mind of it’s own...

I enjoy writing it so I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Let me know what you think! I love hearing from you lovely people. 

I rested my head against the cool glass to my right and let out a tired sigh. We’d been in the car for what felt like days. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to get comfortable against the door. It was a couple hours past sunset by the time the first sign of our new home came into view. It was made of wood and looked no less than a hundred years old. Four words were sprawled across it in big, white letters.

                     WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS

As soon as we passed it, moms fingers tightened against the steering wheel.

“Hey, no more incidents, okay honey? This town is our last option.”

I closed my eyes tightly and tried to ignore her condescending tone. I was well aware of my mistakes and the fact that this was our fourth move in the last year. I knew it was my fault. I didn’t need her to remind me.

The rest of the drive was silent. It wasn’t exactly tense, but it wasn’t pleasant either. This unspoken rift had formed between us not long ago, and it grew with each of my slip ups. With every new move. She was trying her best, that much was obvious, but there are only so many new places to go. I guess that’s why she said this is our last chance.

My last chance.

It was nearly midnight now, and I was no closer to sleep than I had been when I plopped myself down onto my new bed. Mom bought everything and had it delivered before we got here, like she always does. It was kind of our routine at this point.

Just then, I heard screaming from outside my bedroom window. It was like two people were taking turns scaring each other. One yelled out, then the other, until they eventually fell into silence. I sat up in bed and wandered over to my window. I peered toward my neighbors house, where the noise had come from, and saw two boys out on the porch.

One had a baseball bat that he was waving around animatedly, while the other was somehow hanging upside down from the roof. I opened my window as quietly as I could and let my elbows rest on the edge. A shiver ran down the back of my neck as the chilly night air brushed against it. I stuck my head outside to listen in on their conversation.

“Look, I know it’s late, but you gotta hear this.” The upside boy said excitedly. “I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called, they’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even state police.”

The other boy lowered his bat. “For what?”

Despite being outside in the middle of the night, the two weren’t talking quietly. I could hear everything they were saying clearly as their voices echoed my way.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Upside down boy gracefully fell into the bushes below.

My breath caught and my stomach tightened uncomfortably at his words. A body was found nearby? I thought Beacon Hills was a secluded, safe town. 

“A dead body?” As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed that one of the boys had slightly shaggy hair and was wearing a red zip-up hoodie. He leaned over the wooden railing to look at his friend.

Upside down boy popped back up and slammed his hands on the railing. “No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass! A dead body.”

I couldn’t help but snicker at that. The guy was funny, although this didn’t seem like a joking matter. 

“You mean like...a murder?”

Upside down boy, who for some reason was wearing way too many layers to count, swung himself over the porch railing. Seriously, he had on a t-shirt, a flannel, and a thick jacket. It wasn’t that cold. “No one knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, then what are they looking for?” They were facing each other now, the bat forgotten on the floor.

“That’s the best part! They only found half!” My brows pinched at the guy’s excitement. Why would either of them care about a dead body? Especially if it were as gruesome as that? 

I stepped back into my room and shut the window tightly, my stomach churning. I chewed on my bottom lip anxiously. That was weird. They were weird, and I wanted no part of it. I padded back toward my bed and crawled under the covers. I sighed as warmth enveloped me and tried to forget everything I’d overheard. I needed to get some sleep. The first day of school was tomorrow and I had to make a good first impression. It was only my first night in this town. I couldn’t be tangled up in anything weird.

I couldn’t make the same mistakes already.

                                                     ————————

I woke with a harsh gasp, my throat constricting in pain. I blinked rapidly, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the darkness around me. My palms were damp, and the tips of my fingers numb, as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I stilled at the squishy feeling under my ass and brought my hand up toward my eyes slowly.

My breath caught again at the sight of dirt on my skin. My head whipped both left and right as I realized I was outside. Not only was I outside, but I was nowhere near my house. I was in the middle of a forest.

“No, no, no...” I muttered, staggering to my feet.

This cannot be happening again. Not already. I haven’t even been here for one freaking night. My teeth started chattering as the freezing air brushed against my bare skin. I was only wearing a pair of leggings and a short sleeved shirt. It was enough to keep me warm inside my bed, but not here. 

I took a few steps forward, but stopped as the sound of crunching earth echoed my way. Lights flashed, and a dog barked aggressively. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden noise and moved to hide behind a tree. I peered around and saw one of the boys from before—the one with buzzed hair and too many layers—fall to the ground with a shriek. His friend ran off somewhere to hide.

“Hang on! Hang on!” An angry voice shouted. “This little delinquent belongs to me.” 

A man who I quickly registered, due to his uniform, as the Sheriff stepped between the boy and a still barking dog. The few officers around him backed off at the wave of his hand. He turned on a flashlight and shined it in the boys face, who bounced back to his feet and wiped his hands on his loose-fitting jeans.

“Hey dad, how ya doin?”

So the Sheriff is his dad. Makes sense given the two boys earlier conversation. Maybe that will prevent all of us from getting into serious trouble if we’re caught. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. How the hell would I explain why I was here?

“Oh hi, I’m the new girl by the way, and I just sleep-walked myself deep into this unfamiliar forest. No big deal though. It’s not like this has happened before.”

Yeah. I don’t think so.

“So...you, uh, listening to all of my phone calls?”

“No! Well, not the boring ones.”

“Where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott?” The boy tried to catch his breath while he thought of a believable lie. “Scott’s at home. Said he wanted to get a good nights sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow. It’s just me. In the woods. Alone.”

Not bad, actually. Except for that last part. I got the sense that he talked a lot when nervous, but figured he had more than enough practice lying to his father.

“Scott, you out there?” The Sheriff’s voice echoed through the dense trees. He moved his flashlight in my direction and I quickly pressed my back against the other side of the scratchy bark. I winced as it bit into my skin through my thin shirt. “Scott!”

My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest, it was beating so hard. I sealed my eyes shut as a moment of quiet passed.

“Well, young man, I’m going to walk you back to your car, and we’re going to have a discussion about something called invasion of privacy...”

Their voices slowly faded away. I stood painfully still for several seconds afterward to make sure they were gone. Just as I was about to move, I heard a twig snap to my left. My gaze fell on the other boy—Scott, apparently—who’s back was to me. He took off running before I could even fully register that he was there.

I blinked once, twice, three times. My body sagged against the tree in exhaustion. Whatever I had just witnessed was not good and I needed to get home before mom noticed I was gone. Or now, preferably. I groaned in pain as my head suddenly began to throb harshly.

“No, no. Not right now...”

My knees hit the wet ground and I clamped both hands over my temples. Images flashed behind my eyes as I squeezed them shut tightly. 

Scott running, glowing red eyes, a guttural scream of agony.

I let my eyes pop open with a gasp. Before I knew what was happening, I was sprinting in the direction he’d gone. I could hardly control my body as it took me to where my vision was about to happen. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Scott rolling down a hill. I grimaced as his body practically bounced with each hit to the ground and ran to the top so I could see better.

Once he stopped moving, I took a step to check on him, but stopped almost instantly. A pair of glowing red eyes illuminated in the depths of the forest, just a few feet away. My jaw went slack in shock and fear. Whatever the hell it was, it wasn’t good. It was almost like the air had shifted into something darker with its presence. I watched in stunned horror as a huge black mass ran by Scott. It was only visible long enough for me to see the thing dig it’s teeth into his side. He screamed in pain, just like I’d heard before, and I covered my ears.

It was all too real.

The monster ran off and Scott looked around, startled. He groaned and clutched his side tightly as he slowly managed to get to his feet. A moment later, he was gone. I wasted no time in following him, hoping he’d lead me to the edge of the forest. I stayed far back, not wanting him to know I was there. 

Within minutes I was standing in the middle of an empty road, Scott nowhere to be found. I was surprised I hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already with how fast my heart was racing. I was exhausted and on edge after what I’d just seen. Whatever it was. 

I ran a shaky hand through my hair and started what I knew would be a long journey home. 

Episode 1, Part Two

[coureirsix]

supernatural season 16 episode 4 - “lifeline” |  ao3 link

it's roughly 11 PM on january 23rd when dean gets a call from eileen. he'd been out of the bunker with jack and cas for nearly three days; they'd taken jack to an amusement park. something about never seeing one before which reminded dean the last time he'd ever been to one, he was three years old and didn't remember a thing. which was fine, except that jack had wanted to go to six flags. he'd said something about finding old commercials with a dancing old man and the closest one was in kentucky. naturally, this wasn't an issue with dean. he'd driven farther for less, but on the way back he'd begun to realize that as he got older, the drives took more out of him. 

they'd gotten back earlier that afternoon and had spent most of the day lounging around until the exhaustion got the better of them at around nine. well, except jack. who could have just driven back to kentucky if he wanted to. cas made sure he didn't want to. so, it's saturday night, cas is breathing deeply beside him, completely asleep, jack is probably watching TV in the dean-cave, and dean has been drifting in and out of sleep for the past 20 minutes when his phone buzzes to the tune of the Call Me Maybe song. it's the tone he'd set up for eileen because, well, she never calls. so, when she does call, it's usually an emergency flare that's followed up with an explanatory text.

dean's eyes shoot awake and he watches the call miss as he waits a second for eileen's message to come in. 

dean, sam broke the tub. he can't get the hot water to stop running. SOS. please, my hair is disgustingly humid. his too. 

and dean laughs. it was an emergency, but the kind that didn't have him spiraling into a depression. that was... almost nice, he thinks. they have normal people problems now. he leans over to where cas is asleep beside him and cas' trained as well as dean is. he stirs awake with the movement and opens his eyes in a half-awake gesture.

“sam’s in trouble,” dean says with a smile. cas’ eyes shoot open, but dean’s demeanour doesn’t change, instead he follows up with, “he.. broke his bathtub somehow.”

cas squints. dean laughs some more and gets himself out of bed. he’s gotta find the little duffel bag that they’d dedicated to tools that didn’t include weapons of mass destruction. it shouldn’t be too hard to find. the last time they’d used it was when sam actually broke a door off its hinges. 

“i’m going back to sleep,” cas says, turning over as dean redresses. and dean laughs again. cas was grumpy when he was exhausted. it was endearing. 

it doesn’t take him too long to get ready to leave the bunker. he finds the duffel bag underneath the bathroom sink and before he knows it, he’s pulling out of the bunker’s vicinity in the impala and headed toward sam and eileen’s place. the issue with them is they live roughly 45 minutes away. he texts eileen back, letting her know he’s on his way. 

and dean thinks, as he drives over. that it’s his birthday tomorrow. well- he checks his phone, it’s basically his birthday. sunday january 24th, 2021. he didn’t think he’d live this long. he was the answer to the universe now, technically. 42. he looks down at his hands on the wheel. they’re worn. they’re the hands of a tired man who fought multiple apocalypses, multiple archangels, god himself. and won.

he takes a deep breath and thinks about sam. he loves his little brother more than he can ever explain. it’s unhealthy, probably, how much he’d done to save sam from everything. death, despair, sam himself that time he lost his soul. dean was there and willing to bleed for whatever sam needed. and he knew sam would always do the same. it was comforting. and even moreso now that they’d decided to take some time to really asses what was best for either of them. sam let himself want his apple pie life again. and it was the happiest day of dean’s life to see his little brother decorating the house he’d leased with eileen.

dean doesn’t hunt fulltime anymore. he’ll do an odd ghost job here and there, but mostly he mans the phones. he’s now FBI Supervisor Agent Harkness, police chief Richard Grayson, at cas’ request Texas Ranger Dean Swift, and at jack’s request Marlo Bridgers.it’s a living, he thinks. he still helps out other hunters and he passes off the bigger jobs to the younger people that’ve unfortunately ended up in the hunting life. 

mostly, though, he and cas have been making up for lost time. they go out on dates. dates, like embarrassing 15 year olds. he’s taken cas to the movies, they’ve gone for walks at the mall. dean held cas’ hand under a tree and it was the most incredible thing in the world. 

it’s embarrassing, it’s enough to make himself blush at the memory of it, but it’s also nice in that same breath. it brings him a sense of peace like he’s never fully properly known. because it’s about trust. and not trust in cas, not trust in himself, hell, the trust has nothing to do with either of them. it has to do with the fact that dean has finally let himself trust that things are going to be okay. that no matter what happens, he’s going to be okay.

and that’s what he thinks about when he’s sitting across from cas at the baskin robbins. that they’re safe. that things are okay. because they are, dean’s earned that much through his own tears and blood.

the sound of wind hitting the impala as he drives down the highway closer to sam and eileen is the melody to the memories of his life as it has been since they got rid of chuck and jack put god’s power back into the universe.

he pulls into the driveway of sam’s cookie cutter house. he’s in the middle of the driveway but dean doesn’t care and he knows neither sam nor eileen would care either. besides, the impala outshines the two normal cars they drive. he grabs the duffel bag and heads for the door, waiting for a second before the door clicks and he sees eileen in a crack in the door. he smiles at her.

“dean!” she says, visibly excited. dean keeps his smile on his face and waves, unsure why she’d be so excited that he’s here at practically midnight to fix her bathtub. she reaches out to grab his wrist and pull him into the house. she leads him through dark down the little hall that dean knows leads into the bathroom. dean notices there is no humidity in the house.

“eileen? is everything-” dean starts to ask when the lights flick on, blinding dean for a second before it clicks that it’s a party. it’s a party at midnight for him. 

he sees jody, donna, alex, claire and kaia. sam and bobby among several other hunters dean had come to know. it’s a full house, yet dean notices the lack of jack and cas. there’s a stack of presents in a corner behind the kitchen, a cake with a single candle on the table. claire is approaching him with a party hat in her hands and an evil look on her face. dean glances over at eileen, who’s beaming at him. she knows what she did. led zeppelin comes through a little speaker in the corner, not too loud, but loud enough that its ambiance music now. 

dean lets himself get wrapped in a hug from claire and then lets her put the hat on him before sam approaches him.

“this your idea?” dean asks. sam grins, but shakes his head.

“no, actually. i wanted to do it tomorrow morning. show up at the bunker with everyone, but, i know someone with worse intentions than me who said that tricking you into coming here at the moment of your birthday would be something you couldn’t see coming,” sam opens his arms and dean lets himself fall in. he hugs his little brother back and the emotions from earlier come back. he and sam were alive. dean’s greatest achievement in life was keeping sam alive and now here he was, reaping the benefits.

he goes through similar motions with everyone. jody gives him a hug and then leans up to kiss him on the temple. donna squeezes him so hard he swears his insides are flattened. 

after a few moments of getting caught up with everyone, sam sits him down at the table where the cake is. dean rubs his hands, ready to light the candle in it when sam makes this “uh-uh” sound. dean looks up at him in confusion when eileen brings over a pie with those large novelty number candles set into it. 42 sure was a year. 

dean sits there in the obligatory hot seat as everyone gathers around and sings him happy birthday. it’s awkward, it makes him blush and tears well up in his eyes, although nobody can really see it through the dimmed lights. and he looks around and his smile saddens a bit. he should have told cas to come with him. did sam not think to text jack?

he goes through the motions and cuts the first slice of the pie for himself and passes off the pastry to sam and eileen who take care of passing out the rest of it and the cake that’d been there. dean looks around, hoping cas and jack had been right behind him as sam brings him over a whiskey. it goes down ridiculously smooth. sam mentions he ran one last credit card scam for $3,000 whiskey for this. dean laughs and asks for another.

the night winds down fairly quickly, given it’s nearly three in the morning by the time everyone’s settled down into a less partying mood. dean ends up sitting outside with sam in some lawn chairs from walmart in sam’s cookie cutter back yard. eileen’s gone to bed and most everyone has gone home by then.

“you ever think we’d live this long?” sam asks.

“nope,” dean says without hesitation, “sammy, you died when you were twenty two. i died at twenty seven? twenty eight? god, i don’t even remember.”

“and those were just the first times,” sam says with an incredulous laugh.

“shit,” dean laughs with him, “yeah.”

“and we got out,” sam says. there’s a satisfaction in his voice that makes every single time dean died or did anything stupid for sam worth it. it’s a tone that dean knows means sam is happy. and that’s it, that was dean’s goal.

“we did,” dean agrees, taking another sip of the whiskey, “we beat hell, we beat heaven, we beat purgatory, we beat god.”

“kicked god’s ass,” sam affirms, “we get to choose what we want to do now. we write our own destiny now.”

dean reaches over and outstretches his glass. sam meets him halfway and they toast to that. dean watches sam pull his phone out and send off a quick text message. probably eileen telling him to go to bed.

they sit in silence for a while. and sam’s phone vibrates. dean watches him check it and not respond. trouble in paradise? he doubts it, but he doesn’t really know every single thing about sam anymore.

“i know you’re gonna tell me to shut up, but i do have to say, dean. thank you,” sam looks over at him.

“for?” dean asks.

“for everything, man,” sam has this look on his face like he’s going to cry, “you raised me. you were always there for me. im thirty eight, nearly sixteen years overdue if you hadn’t sold your soul to save me. i’m who i am because of you, and i like to think i’m in pretty good shape. and you, dean. i’m so proud of you. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met. and i love you, and i’m happy that it was you that i got to have be my big brother.”

dean actually cries, but he turns around so that sam can’t see it. he composes himself in a second and turns back. he doesn’t have it in him to fight sam on the emotional distress this is causing him. instead he says, “thanks, sam. i’m glad i got to be your big brother, too.”

sam’s phone buzzes again. he checks it again and this time does respond. he sighs and looks over at dean again, “i gotta go. eileen says the bed is too cold.”

dean huffs a laugh and nods, “go fix that.”

sam nods and gets up. dean hears the door that leads back into the house slide open and then slide shut. and dean is left with himself at the end of it all. he sighs. he’s happy, he thinks.

and then he hears an unmistakable flutter. 

“dean!” he hears jack yell. it’s louder given it’s three in the morning and most people in this neighbourhood are asleep.

“i’m so sorry,” jack says, rushing up to dean’s side, “we were planning to be there for the cake but it wasn’t ready and we kept trying to fix things-”

“fix what?” dean asks, curiously. he’s not mad.

“the-” jack stops short, looking behind dean. and dean realizes the missing piece of his birthday puzzle has to be behind him.

and he is. the angel castiel is standing behind dean on the cement part of the patio a few feet back, wearing one of dean’s old band tshirts under his trench coat. and there’s a book in his hands. 

“happy birthday, dean,” cas says, a little smile on his face.

dean gets up. his foot nearly kicks the whiskey glass he set down with the speed he gets up at. and he doesn’t waste any time in grabbing the sides of cas’ face and pressing the most heartfelt, loving, tender kiss dean has ever given anyone in his life. there’s a warmth that always seems to be radiating from cas and dean wants to stick to it like a leech.

when he pulls back, cas keeps the little smile on his face and hands dean the book. it’s a photo album, he realizes, once he takes it and opens it. there’s- there’s baby pictures of him there. things that were surely lost in the fire in lawrence. as he flips through the album, he finds pictures of him and sam growing up. things nobody had ever photographed before, he’s pretty sure. at one point he finds a picture of him at age twelve, lying on roof of the impala.

“cas,” dean asks, in completely disbelief, “where did you get these?”

“i did!” jack says coming from behind dean in an awkward hug from behind, “i can still tap into the power of god if i want to. it wasn’t hard to pop into different points of your life and just take a picture.”

dean turns back and pulls jack forward to pull him into a better hug as he laughs. that’s somehow the craziest thing he’s ever heard. 

“happy birthday, dad,” jack says. and he tenses against dean.

“did you just call me dad?” dean asks.

“no,” jack lies. 

“right,” dean says, a grin on his face that he looks up and notices that cas shares.

“well, it’s kinda creepy that you existed for a second at different points in my life, but i love it, jack. a walk down memory lane, shit and all. i love it, thank you, son” and he leans down to press a kiss against the top of jack’s head.

“this what kept you?” dean asks cas as jack lets go and says he’s heading inside.

cas nods and he says with a little shrug, “it seemed like a kind gesture. i sort of gave him points to land on. that way he didn’t land in the middle of a hunt or something. i’m sorry, dean.”

dean shakes his head and goes to set the book down on the chair he’d been sitting in and he walks back over to cas. where cas is standing, there’s a cement step between the cement patio area and the grass that dean and sam had been sitting in. it makes it so cas is a few inches taller than dean. 

dean finds himself turning around so that cas can come around him, head coming to rest on dean’s shoulder and his arms coming around dean’s middle.

“thought you were supposed to be sleeping,” dean says with a mocking tone.

“and miss your forty-second birthday?” cas asks, turning to press a kiss to the side of dean’s face. they look up at the sky and dean wonders how exactly he got there. there’s a feeling in his chest that he doesn’t understand, but he knows what it is. it’s peace, it’s happiness. 

“i have a speech prepared for you,” cas says softly. his hands tap at dean’s stomach and dean brings up his own hands to cover them.

“right, right. something about how my eyes glitter like the moon?” dean asks, his tone is still jokey.

“something like that,” cas says, “and moreso how you’ve been the world’s lifeline and how i’m so happy you’re finally thinking of yourself.”

dean’s heart sinks a little as cas continues.

“you know sam loves you, you know your friends love you. you know that i love you with the wrath of heaven behind me. and somehow that doesn’t compare to the happiness i feel now that i know that you finally love you.”

dean’s face goes completely red. the warmth is different from the warmth of the next kiss that cas places against his cheek again. 

“thank you,” he chokes out, voice breaking because he’s started crying again, “i... i don’t have heaven. but i love you with the power of a guy who fought god.”

cas laughs, “and won,” he adds.

dean’s blush comes down a little and he leans back just a little, so he can turn and meet cas full on in another kiss before turning back to look out at the normal neighbourhood sam’s found himself in. 

“do you think we could do something like this? cookie cutter house. you me and the kid?” dean asks.

“if you think you’re prepared to let the bunker go, i don’t see why not,” cas responds. 

the thought of turning the bunker’s lights out for good makes dean feel a certain kind of way. still, though. now it’s a thought that’s popped into his head. who knows. 

for now, he’s content to stand there with his angel, looking out at the other backyards, at the stars while their respective kids sleep in the house. 

[fictionadventurer]

Don’t let it go to your head + Man from UNCLE? (Or whichever fandom you prefer) for the prompt meme?

I really did intend to try to write something for this fandom. But I haven’t seen any episodes of the TV show in years, and I’ve never seen the movie (which I suspect is the fandom you’re referring to, so the TV characterizations probably wouldn’t hold much appeal for you anyhow). I wasn’t confident enough in my grasp of the material to come up with any decent drabbles.

I then tried to think of similar fandoms, or any fandoms at all, that would fit the prompt, but my brain was contrary and decided to use it as a spark for a scene from one of my original universes. Well, two, technically. I have characters from my long-abandoned non-magical fantasy romance, A Beautiful Tomorrow, and this drabble’s a bit of an experiment in switching up their story and moving into my Starfall universe (though the Starfall portion of it doesn’t really factor into this scene).

So even though it’s not fanfiction, it’s a little bit like fanfiction for my own characters, and I’ve been sitting on this prompt so long that I’m overdue to do something with it. I hope it’s not thoroughly disappointing.

Interior Worlds

Snowflakes drifted like daytime stardust beyond the schoolroom window. Daniela rested her head against the glass to watch it fall. She could take a moment to relax. Her student was absorbed in her geography text, attentive to the lesson for once. Even in exile, Lucia preferred tales of far-off lands to facts about her homeland.

Something moved in the faint reflection of the glass. A shadow darkened the schoolroom door.

Daniela bolted upright. Hoops clattered against the wall as she straightened her skirts. She patted down the flyaway strands in her hair, even as the more rational part of her mind told her it was unnecessary. Even though Prince Alessandro couldn’t see her hair, Daniela couldn’t shake the conviction that he would know.

He, as usual, looked as pristine as an oil painting, the pleats of his trousers and jacket crisp, every hair in place. His unfocused eyes seemed to see everything, including Daniela’s inattention to duty.

Daniela breathed deeply, steeled her spine, and gave a curtsy that would have made the Countess proud. “Good morning, your highness.”

He acknowledged her with a stiff nod. “Good morning, Miss Decardi. I hope I’m not intruding?”

Though he spoke it as a question, it had the effect of a command. He couldn’t be intruding when it was his house, his sister, and his employee, and it was her duty to accommodate him. “Not at all, your highness.” She was proud of the steadiness of her tone. She was ever amazed at how social training could cover fear and anxiety. “Lucia is finishing her geography lesson.”

He nodded and strode into the room, his cane lightly sweeping before his feet. “How does she progress?”

“Very well, your highness.”

Lucia lit up brighter than a star lamp and bounced up from her seat. She rushed to his side and led him toward the wooden chair next to the standing globe. “I know all the capitals!”

His eyebrows rose. “All the capitals?”

Lucia helped him into the chair with the patient confidence of a nurse three times her age. “All the important ones.”

Daniela explained, “She has learned to identify all the major cities of the western nations.”

Would it be enough? He’d made it very clear that Lucia’s accomplishments were her responsibility, but she had needed to take extra time to frame the lessons in a way that captured Lucia’s attention…

The barest of smiles softened the sharp lines of Alessandro’s face. “An excellent accomplishment,” he told Lucia. “But don’t let it go to your head. There’s much more of the world to learn.”

“I know,” Lucia said, with the enthusiasm of an explorer.

“By the time you come of age,” Alessandro said seriously, “you ought to be able to label a globe blindfolded.”

Daniela’s stomach twisted at the reminder of the prince’s astronomically high expectations.

Lucia only laughed. “Even you can’t do that, Sandro.”

His shoulders and spine straightened. “You think I can’t?” He lifted a hand to the standing globe beside him and turned it until his hand covered the entire Western continent. He pointed at nations. “Alsperra, Corlant, Myraldia, Ephros, Dartan.”

Lucia laughed. “You’re just guessing.”

“Am I right?”

“So far. But that’s the easy part.” She twisted the globe and planted his finger in the middle of the broad Eastern Expanse. “What’s here?”

He brushed his other hand over the surrounding patch of the globe. “The Espiren Mountains.”

“What country?” she demanded, unimpressed.

“It goes without saying that they’re in the western portion of Poresti.”

She twisted the globe again. “What’s here?”

“The Feshrin Peninsula.”

“Here?”

“The Midnight Islands.”

“How about here?”

“Well, now we’re just in the middle of the Avrian Ocean.”

She released his hand and threw her own into the air. “How are you doing that?”

His eyes, blank as they were, sparkled with mischief. “What do you think I did as a boy?” he asked. “I forsook all sleep and leisure, memorizing this globe so I could one day astound you with my geographical wizardry.”

“You’re cheating!” The accusation was half amusement and half outrage. Lucia looked toward Daniela. “Miss Decardi, how is he cheating?”

Daniela only shook her head in amazement. The globe included topographical definition, and most of the places Lucia had pinpointed were geographically distinct, but his quick, confident answers were still impressive. “I don’t believe he is,” she said.

Alessandro’s smile was as bright as the sun through a storm cloud, and just as startling. “Thank you, Miss Decardi. I knew I could trust your academic honesty.”

The words left her dumbfounded. Not what he’d said, but how he’d said it. It was like he’d transformed into a different person. Always, he’d been the meticulously polite prince, the exacting employer. But now, he was speaking to her, with genuine warmth rather than polite formality. As if some dividing veil had been pushed aside and she was seeing something of the man beneath.

She was surprised to find herself returning the smile.  “Always glad to be of service, your highness.”

Lucia seized Alessandro’s hand again, and the game continued. He identified seven more nations, three mountain ranges and two archipelagos before he finally stumbled over a collection of nations in the southern hemisphere.

“It’s not Efzi!” Lucia cried triumphantly. “It’s Falni!”

“I think not.” He brushed a finger of his other hand over the flat surface to the nation’s left. “It’s a coastal nation.”

“It’s on the...” Lucia peered at writing on the land mass. “The Efni Flats.”

He lifted his head. “Miss Decardi, does she tell the truth?”

“I’m afraid she does, your highness.”

Alessandro withdrew his hand from the globe. “It wasn’t a fair test,” he told Lucia. “You turned the globe upside down. It doesn’t count.”

Lucia said, “That wasn’t in the rules!”

“We never defined the rules.”

The quarrel continued, with no real hostility. The answer didn’t matter so much as the contest and the camaraderie. Daniela had never seen either of them so at ease. Their lives had been painted by sorrow, weighed down by war, but here and now, they were a brother and sister caught up in silly games. Daniela thought she finally understood how Lucia could be fond of her brother. This was the man she’d always been able to see; this was what they brought out in each other.

Finally, Alessandro settled back in his chair. “If I made a mistake,” he conceded, “it means only that you have opportunity to surpass me. I still expect you to make a diligent study of geography.”

“I will,” Lucia said, then seized his hand. “I’ll bet you can’t get another one.”

He withdrew his hand from her grasp. “Unless I was very much misled, I graduated the schoolroom long ago. It would be rude of me to take you from your tutor any longer.”

Lucia turned pleading eyes toward Daniela. “Miss Decardi, don’t make him leave! I was learning geography, really!”

Alessandro began to rise from his chair. “I did not intend to distract your student. The schoolroom is your domain, and I apologize for taking your...”

“No. Please. Stay.”

The words escaped before Daniela had time to consider them. When she’d spoken them, she wasn’t sure what was more shocking—that she’d interrupted the prince, that she’d contradicted him, or that she truly did want him to stay.

She used every lesson in deportment she’d ever received to gather up her confidence and courage, then added, “It is an unorthodox lesson, but an engaging one, and Lucia enjoys it. If it pleases your highness, you may stay as long as you desire.”

The prince laughed. “Very well,” he said. “If the ever-proper Miss Decardi is willing to indulge this folly, who am I to protest?” He sat back in his seat. “But you must be willing to be judge of this contest.”

Daniela smiled at him—even if he couldn’t see it, he’d know. “Gladly, your highness.”

[failedimitator]

I had a dream last night. In it, I got a kitten. A tiny fluffy white thing I brought home in a cage. Then I forgot all about it until I saw it again a few days later still in its cage and barely alive. I freaked out.

It's an anxiety dream, and I've been having a few of those lately. Some are about sex. Some about money. And others about my inability to complete a task. Like most dreams, there's a greater than random chance that they have something to do with stuff going on in my life at the moment.

Well, at this very moment, my friend Ahmad is waiting on me to send him pictures I took at his wedding earlier this month. Vix is waiting on me to send him a cut of a music video I shot of him last year. There's work waiting for me in the office when I get back in tomorrow. And of course there's this -- my annual birthday-year review -- that's at least two weeks late.

So let's get on with it, shall we: All this anxiety business, how does it compare to last year?

This time last year, to the day, Hamza and I were at Digital Mall getting a laptop for my mom. The day before, Liy and I were in Jalan Masjid India getting fabric for my mom. And two days after that, Maysoun and I would be back at Digital Mall to get a phone for my mom.

I would fly back home for the first time in two and a half years at the end of April. My brother and sister would pick me up from the airport and we'd get some suya before doing the 45 minute drive back to Wudil. It would be my first time being at the house in Wudil. My dad's new job.

The one thing that stuck with me while I was back home was everyone's comment about my weight. Specifically, how much of it I'd gained. 

I got back to KL in May and started looking for apartments immediately. I called a few agents. One got back to me. We met. He showed me three apartments. I chose one because I liked the couch. I transfered him the money a day later, and two days after that I moved in.

I was in the apartment a week before I had to fly off to Greece for Afest. Matej and I shared a room. Millie and I became friends. I shot a video for Babbel in Mykonos. Matej and I took pictures in Piraeus. In Athens, I had drinks with Aurora, who I'd only met just once before, three prior, on a bus in Berlin. 

I flew to Berlin from Athens. Stayed with Dani, Seth, and Alex. I had drinks with Alex Billington, which was kind of surreal before I love his website. 

I went to the World Press Photo exhibition with Nine in Amsterdam, and then immediately rushed to the airport to catch my flight back to KL. I had to pay 150 EUR because of some technicality, and I was mad because my friend Matej -- who's white -- had the same issue but didn't have to pay. I wrote several e-mails to KLM  about this apparent racial discrimination, but in the end, nothing really happened. Because of course nothing happened.

Back in KL, Kwena came down from Myanmar and stayed with me. We recorded an episode of Before I am Black, my podcast that still isn't, and also just had a really good heart to heart. 

Around the same time, Mille helped me shoot a video with Tashny, which is still one of my favourite of the things I've shot. And at the end of May, we celebrated Millie's birthday at Bilique with ice-cream cake, shisha, and pool.

I just realised, going through my journal from last year, that July was when Shafina and I became friends. We met up four times in July, pretty much once every week. One of those times, she was my plus one to Omar's raya open house at Damansara Heights.

Soraya also got married in July. Ling and OJ and I drove up to Kuantan together.

In August, Maysoun and I went to The Garden to see Az Samad perform. And then a few days later, to Playspace to see Homeboy Sandman.

Nine, Liy and Furzann, and I, drove up to Bangi for Shafina's raya open house, and then later in the day, came back to my place to watch Mother of George. In August, I shot two music videos with Vix (one of which is the one he's still waiting on).

I had dinner with Samreen and Mano first week of September. It was one of those things that I was super anxious about before hand, but that ended up being completely wonderful.

SY and Patrick's wedding was in September. I flew to Berlin for that. The party from Malaysia, myself included, had dinner with the couple the day after the wedding. The day after that, Dan and I went to silent gig with Beula and Clement.

The day after I got back from Berlin was Ling's wedding. OJ invited a few of her close friends for a surprise dinner at a restaurant in Damansara Kim. I mention Damansara Kim here because I thought it was one of those made up places like Bangsar South. Turns out, no. Damansara Kim is legit, who knew?

Faiq, Amanda, and I drove up to Janda Baik at the end of September for Ling and OJ's wedding. The speeches from the Best Man and Maid of Honour were both very funny and heartwarming. The decor at the location was great. Food was on point. And the people just wonderful. It was the most at-home I've ever felt at a wedding. 

I shot Zack in October. My first photo shoot since I turned 27. Millie was there to help. And so was Shan. I don't know how Zack feels about the photos, but I thought the shoot went really well.

In November, I started tracking my moods. Specifically, I started tracking sleep and how long I ran on the treadmill, and how those things correlate with my levels of anxiety, happiness, paranoia, and contentment. 

For those keeping score at home, in November, I slept for an average of 6.77 hours a night. Even though that's way below my target of 8 hours every night, I'm still surprised at how I actually got. I ran for 7.38 minutes every morning, which is way way less than my target of 20.

I logged anxiety 13 times in November. Pure, unadulterated happiness 7 times. Paranoia twice. And I was contented every single day of the month expect for one: November 11.

On the 26th of November, Syakirin and I drove up to Penang for Georgetown Literary Festival. There, I hung out with Maysoun and Dhiyana and also met Manal.

In November, I also started measuring my weight, body fat percentage, muscle mass, and body age.

I have this vague memory of feeling too depressed to log anything in my journal for the first two weeks of December, but I guess not strong enough to remember what it is I was going through at the time. 

I remember that at some point in December, I think sometime around Christmas, Shan and I went to The Berlin KL and that night was a lot of fun.

For New Year's Eve, Maysoun took me to a BBQ at her friend's place, at at midnight, we went to a cemetery to watch the fireworks over KL.

January started with a day time party at TTDI which I went to with Maysoun. Millie, Andrew and Zara, and I went to see Arrival. All hail Bradford Young. I also went climbing at Camp5 with Berlina and Daryl -- my first in over 4 months -- and it made me fall back in love with climbing. 

My friends Deo and Clara got married in January in Jakarta, but I couldn't go because of visa issues.

February was Mahen's exhibition at the Islamic Arts Museum. Or more accurately, an exhibition of the photography of Sultan Isma'il of which a documentary Mahen made about the man was a part of. It was my first time at the Islamic Arts Museum and it made me want to go back again at some point.

I watched Tokyo Story in February because Kogonada told me to last year and I want to e-mail him but I didn't want to until I'd seen the film. I liked it, but I still haven't e-mailed him. 

I took part in the Lifebook workshop, and finished reading the James Baldwin book Kavya sent me -- Notes of a Native Son -- in February. The workshop gave me a lot to think about, and the book pretty much changed how I look at myself.

Kristen joined the company in February, and at least three people on separate occasions came up to me and asked if I'd met her. In my head, I was like -- Yes, I'm black, and she's black, and we've met. With my mouth, I just said yes. 

I had a screening of Moonlight at my place in February. Or, more accurately, Shafina had a screening of Moonlight at my place in February. It's not Medicine for Melancholy, but I like it quite a bit. The last third, especially.

At the very tail end of the month, Syar read my tarot. At some point, she asked if there's a point in my life I'd like to go back to. If I'm nostalgic for some better time in the past. And I realised, I think for the first time, that there's nowhere else I’d rather be.

Shafina wrote Ghosted, a short film, which we shot in March at Sid's.

Alex and Florian came down from Berlin and stayed with me for a few days. Just before leaving for home, I had lunch with Velina and it left me with a lot of questions about relationships. More specifically, one question: Why do I want to be in a relationship?

I flew to Kano on the 28th on Saudia.

By this time, since I started measuring in November, I'd lost about 4 kilo grammes of weight, lost 4.6% body fat, and gained about 3% muscle mass.

On March 31st, my dad and I drove up to Abuja for Ahmad's wedding. He drove back that same day, and I stayed with Mubarak. April 1st was Ahmad's birthday, and also his wedding reception, which is where I took the pictures that he's still waiting on. 

I came back to KL four days before my birthday, and three days before my birthday, I went to the Spanish embassy to apply for a schengen visa. I met up with Jillian to discuss a music video she wanted me to shoot for her friend's band two days before my birthday. A day before my birthday, I took Alex and Florian to Iham Gallery and Lake Gardens. 

On the day I turned 28, I had brunch at a Japanese restaurant with Maysoun and Hamza -- Maysoun got us cake (it was also Hamza's birthday). Afterwards, I went to the office and took pictures of myself, which, I guess at this point, is pretty much a yearly tradition.

The new picture is a visual representation of my transformation at 27. I wouldn't say that I necessarily learned anything new, but there's at least one thing that I've internalised more:

I've learned to stop comparing myself to other people. Just because it works for someone else and not for me doesn't mean it's not fair. And even if it was, why lose sleep over it if I can't change it.

There are still a lot of things I'm unsure of, of course. For one, I'm anxious about my future in this country. And there are questions about romantic relationships that I still cannot answer. I'm still insecure about parts of my body. And my financial life is a fucking disaster. 

I got an e-mail from my 18-year old self on my birthday (futureme.org), and I was horrified while reading it. Not only was the language atrocious, but my vision for myself at 28 when I was 18 was completely off. Not only do I not have a wife and kid, but I’m not even in contact with most of the friends I referred to in my e-mail.

Having said that, this -- me here right now -- is the best version of me yet. I've never been smarter than I am right now. I've never been more confident and capable. I've never felt more like an adult. I've never been more content about life. 

And at the risk of sounding superficial, I've never liked what I see when I look in the mirror more than I do now.

See also: Caring less about sounding superficial.

I've never been more excited about seeing a version of myself go through something like I am currently excited about seeing this version of me go through 28. 

Here we go.

"Any writer, I suppose, feels that the world into which he was born is nothing less than a conspiracy against the cultivation of his talent--which attitude certainly has a great deal to support it. On the other hand, it is only because the world looks on his talent with such frightening indifference that the artist is compelled to make his talent important." 

- James Baldwin, Notes of a Native Son.