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mylutteoheart · 3 years

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Playing Cupid

I have mixed feelings about this chapter but it’s an exciting one nonetheless. I want to make it longer but I’ve decided against it because if I would, I’d never finish and I wanted to update. This chapter mostly focuses on Gastina and Gastón. I wanted to write the chapter partly in Nina’s POV but that’s going to have to wait for next chapter. The dinner is far from over and interesting things are going to happen.

Luna and Matteo have been building their lives together slowly. Fresh out of college, they’re planning their future. But by planning this, they have an underlying plan no one knows of. Bringing their best friends together after 4 years of not being happy without the other. How well will their plan of playing Cupid work?

Chapter 6: Meeting Face To Face

A thousand thoughts and emotions went through Gastón as he saw Nina standing in the dining room right in front of him. He hadn't expected this at all, just like he didn't expect to see Nina at Jam & Roller after so many years. But he had to know that there was a chance she'd be there. The skating rink is still his friends' favorite hangout even after 5 years.

When he came face to face with Nina at Luna and Matteo's place, he couldn't believe his eyes. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. He had to surpress the urge to go over to where she was standing, he wanted to touch her face just to make sure that she was real.

He had imagined this moment over and over again. He missed her so much but he wasn't so sure if she felt the same way so he stayed abroad because he couldn't even stand the thought of her not feeling anything anymore.

But no matter what he did, she didn't leave his thoughts and as soon as he heard that his best friend was getting married, he took the chance to find out for good if he could be together with Nina again.

He had no idea what was happening in Nina's life, he didn't want to know so he didn't ask. He wanted her to be happy, even if it was without him but that doesn't mean he liked the idea of constantly hearing how she moved on and got together with someone else.

Nina and Gastón stood there for what seemed like forever, just staring at each other. A lot of emotions going through them and they were all mixed.

Out of all the scenarios he played out in his head about meeting her again, he didn't expect this. It felt so awkward, he didn't know what to say to her.

Luna and Matteo stayed quiet in the background, not wanting to interrupt their moment. This was something they had to do by themselves, Nina and Gastón needed to talk.

"Hi." Gastón said quietly. "I didn't expect to see you." He sounded a little unsure of himself and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.

"Hey." she smiled shyly at him "Well, my best friend lives here too so I come around a lot." she answered the silent question as to why she was here.

"Right" he sounded more confident than he felt. "So are you joining for dinner?" he tried to keep the conversation up. It might be awkward between them but he missed talking to her.

"If you don't mind" she answered.

"No, not at all. It would be fun to have dinner with all four of us together." he smiled at her reassuringly.

"Luckily, there's enough food for everyone and I made Pasta a pesto. The most delicious meal I ever made" Matteo broke the silence "I'll go get it, Luna, would you like to help me?"

"Sure, you two can just sit down and relax, we'll be right back." Luna hurried over to the kitchen which left Nina and Gastón alone in the dining room, unbeknownst to them, the walls were listening in on them.

"So I see you've returned from the United Kingdom" Nina started and couldn't stop her curiosity, "Are you staying here for good now?"

She secretly hoped he would but he didn't need to know that and Gastón answered honestly: "Yeah, I've found a job here in Buenos Aires. I've been abroad long enough."

"It must have been nice to be able to work in another country." Nina tried to hide her excitement at his statement.

"Yeah, it was an amazing experience and I had fun but I want to go back to what I truly love now." he said, Nina not catching onto his double meaning.

"I understand. So what kind of job do you have now?" Nina suddenly asked, she had no idea what was going on his life, she realized. Is there a lot she doesn't know? She thought.

"I'm a publishing assistant now" he answered, "I'd like to help find unknown authors and help them get published."

"That sounds amazing. That must be a dream job." Nina answered with a smile. They seemed to have gotten past the awkwardness and they were starting to enjoy the conversation.

"It is" he paused for a moment but got past his hesitation, "So what have you been up to?"

"Well, I went into journalism and mostly posting articles about the skating world and the music world. I've actually interviewed a lot of our friends like Luna and Matteo." Gastón was in a daze, loving how passionate she sounded about her job. This made him miss the time that this was a normal thing in their lives.

"You seem really happy. I'm glad." he said, he wanted to ask something else but he was holding it back. It was nice hearing her talk about stuff that she loves but he's not so sure he'd be glad to hear about the people that she dated, he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it if she had a boyfriend.

"I am", Nina answered and paused before continuing, "It's good to see you again." She didn't want to say more than this because she was scared she might tell him what she actually thought because despite her initial reaction to seeing him, she was happy he returned.

After this, they started with the small talk, catching up on what they had done the past 5 years but they avoided huge topics, like their breakup or just their love lifes in general. They were both too scared to ask the other about it.

Gastón realized just how much he missed times like this, they used to be able to talk to each other for hours and not get bored. He couldn't stop listening to her whenever she talked about something she liked. They fell easily into their old habits and he didn't mind at all.

He easily forgot they were supposed to have dinner with their best friends. Seeing Nina again and being able to talk to her after not having spoken to her for years, it made him even more determined to figure out their relationship. He knew now was not the time to talk about this, they've only just come face to face after not having any contact since the last time he called to say he was okay with Nina and Eric.

He knew he needed to take this slow and he had no idea what to expect but that was okay because he's back where he wants to be. He still regrets how long it took him to realize all the things he was missing out on. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting her go but seeing his best friend get married to the girl he's been in love with since he was 17, it made him think about what could have been and the thought of that never let him go.

He knew he couldn't get his hopes up but he still hoped he and Nina still had a chance and this time, he's not going to give up that easily because she was worth it. She's always been worth it.

***

Luna and Matteo stayed quiet and listened in on Nina and Gastón's conversation the whole time. Once they noticed that the conversation was going smoothly and they were laughing together, Luna and Matteo looked at each other with secretive smiles. Their plan seemed to work.

Matteo took her hand and lead her away from the door to the dining room to talk to her. "I can't believe this is working."

"Yeah, it's amazing. They're really getting along, it seems like they're back to their old selves." Luna smiled dreamily and Matteo loved seeing her like this and couldn't help but peck her on the lips.

"We make quite the team, ms. Balsano." he teased.

"First of all, I'm not ms. Balsano just yet and second of all, it's crazy how all it took was a few minutes for them to forget about all the misery they felt being away from each other." Luna wrapped her hands around his waist and rested her head on his chest. She sighed contently. Matteo immediately answered her embrace by putting his arms around her.

"You're right we're not there yet and Gastón and Nina aren't either, I think they're going to need time to truly talk about their feelings, it's probably too painful right now, especially considering they have so many doubts about the other's feelings." He rested his chin on her head and sighed.

"That's true. We haven't even told them they're going to walk down the aisle together. Do you think it's the right time to tell them?" she looked up into his eyes to see his answer.

"They have to find out someday. It's better sooner than later." he kissed her on the head, "Let's get this over with." he lead her to the dining room with the plates full of food in their hands.

The night could end greatly but also badly and Matteo wasn't too sure how it was going to turn out and braced himself for what's going to come.

#soy luna #gastina #lutteo #playing cupid #my soy luna fic #SL fanfiction #multichapter

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hazzabeeforlou · 4 years

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Digging Deeper

Thanks @alienfuckeronmain for the tag, this I’ve loved reading everyone’s, and I tag @taintedlav @rahashirley @raisemybody @twopoppies @cuethetommo @metal-eye and @seasurfacefullofclouds1 if anyone wants to play!!

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? ink color matters less than ball-point-ness...

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? I want a witch’s cottage with a giant messy garden on the edge of the moors and a forest a million miles away from everyone. So country.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? I’ve actually stretched myself this summer! Am learning French and guitar, and idk if it counts but learning my new job which I NEVER thought I could handle lol since I’ve never worked retail

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Honey ;)

5. What was your favourite book as a child? Well I have to say Narnia and Redwall, but when I was very tiny I loved this book about a girls who could whistle and speak to animals (named Mable) and the Velveteen Rabbit, and a book called “The Lost Princess” which is fucking amazing, by the precursor to CS Lewis, George MacDonald

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? I usually take showers because baths take too much time. Also baths are romantic and that makes me sad, and also I have to look at my body which, ug, not prepared to do that all the time rip

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Mer. Fucking. Maid. Though I’ve always wanted to fly too, I used to spend HOURS in the water just underwater swimming with my legs stuck together just pretending to be on ocean adventures

8. Paper or electronic books? I usually much prefer paper, but since I got these blue light blocking glasses I am finding i’m fine either way physically. Soul-wise though, yeah, paper

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? Probably my mango colored crop hoodie that I once smashed melting frozen blueberries on and then spent hours and days getting the stains out...

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? My real name is super boring and typical, though I do like it. I enjoy my tumblr name a lot, Toni, and it feels more genderless and constrictive than my actual name lol

11. Who is a mentor to you? I’ve had so many great teachers, but the biggest lesson I’ve learned in life is that so many you admire can be deeply flawed. I have lots of trust issues. I only take advice from a select few people, and they don’t include anyone ‘old and wise’ lol

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? Oh for sure, I used to want to be an actress or a rock star or whatever. Famous author. I would fucking LOVE to have a platform and help people and cheer people up and see people grocery shopping and have instant friends. I know that sounds terribly naive but I’ve said before I share a lot of Harry’s personality, and I just love flirting with people and smiling with them and giving hugs. Now, I would want to be famous as TONI me and not real me, because then I could never be myself because my fam would find out rip

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Depends on my mattress. Currently, yes, ugg. I wake up in an omega nesting scene from a fic every morning

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? Unfortunately yes.

15. Which element best represents you? idk I usually say fire but I’m feeling more water lately

16. Who do you want to be closer to? I’m working on getting to know my amazing sister better, and that’s been lovely.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? All my friends have been long distance for actual years, so i don’t miss anymore more than normal. I am missing just... the POTENTIAL for someone. This indefinite distancing is wearing on me.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I was like two or three, and we were out on a full moon walk and I was in my stroller in the red sheepskin bundled up, and I remember coming up our sidewalk and looking at the world and moon and thinking, “remember this moment, or you’re going to grow up and forget how wonderful it was.” Also when I was five I had a breakdown on my mom’s lap because “I’m going to grow up and be too big to be sung lullabies to!” and I didn’t want anything to change EVER

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? I used to make a concoction of rye crackers, mustard, and pickles. Don’t ask

20. What are you most thankful for? all the opportunities I’ve had in life. I’m so massively privileged

21. Do you like spicy food? depends on how hot

22. Have you ever met someone famous? I saw a few celebs in NYC, Shosh from Girls, the guy from Monk, Tim Gun, John Oliver (and his golden retriever) and I passed a drunk as a skin Alec Baldwin outside Lincoln Center one day. Probably other people I didn’t recognize. Oh and S**** M***** rented my instrument right before covid hit here, and drunk him (or high him) couldn’t believe he had a h*** to play around on, and then I saw him staring at mountains being the most stereotypical rich white boy ever, also he did not send out gay vibes but don’t let that stop your Shiall, please don’t let it

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? I almost always start with the new year and do like. A day. And then forget.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? PEN

25. What is your star sign? Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Pisces rising

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Depends on the cereal, those golden grams were BEST thoroughly soaked in milk fight me

27. What would you want your legacy to be? make the world a little better

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? Yes but you know, i’m the worst at making time for it. Still getting through that Brief Interviews with Hideous Men or whatever it is

29. How do you show someone you love them? Just thinking of them and doing little things to surprise them, I think

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Yep the smaller and more crush friendly the better

31. What are you afraid of? I really do not. like. limb loss. no horror movies for me EVER

32. What is your favourite scent? wet Labrador because it means there’s a WET LABRADOR

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? surname always unless I’ve always known them by firsts. Religion, man

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I have this dream of buying up all the land shitty developers snatch up in this country and ceding it back to its rightful owners. I’ve legit cried over little forests turned into parking lots, thanks Joni Mitchell

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? pools are so clean and have no sharks or jellyfish. that said, they also have no waves...

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? turn it into the store it was closest to. I’m the lawful good box and yes I hate it

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? YES in Breckenridge one year I saw a fucking meteor shower! I’ve wished on some, they’ve never come true I don’t think.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? I’m too scared to have children even if I could (I can’t) because of the pressure of what would fuck them up and what wouldn’t

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I love my baby tat @alienfuckeronmain gave me, idk if I’d want another one someday, maybe a sister tat with my sis

40. What can you hear now? The fan, my typing, my parents watching old TV shows

41. Where do you feel the safest? With a pet outside in nature somewhere

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? putting limits on things /myself/people

43. Of you could travel back to any era, what would it be? You know I used to really DREAM about this shit, but since I realized I would have genetically DIED in any other era, and that my dreaming was a literal result of white privilege since it would fucking SUCK to be anyone else (I mean even now it’s awful wtf) I just. Stick with the present.

44. What is your most used emoji? the laughing face. oops.

45. Describe yourself using one word. Supercalifragelisticexpialidocious

46. What do you regret the most? I have so many. social. anxiety. nightmares from my 28 years of life that haunt me

47. Last movie you saw? l think it was the Downton Abbey movie?

48. Last tv show you watched? Monk

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Surplumn. a really divinely wonderful thing, like ‘oh her lips are surplumn’ like a juicy chocolate mousse and perky breasts idk

#tag games #this was fun but did take forever lol #about me

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chaotic-bells · 4 years

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🌟 dig a little deeper 🌟

My tag buddy Emma @herefortommo knows my addiction to tag games too well and tagged me for this fun one. It is indeed long, so read more after the thingy.

I’ll tag... @promisethatillnevertell and @cgg3913 - it’s totally fine if you don’t do it! this is a long, long one.

1. do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

blue pen

2. would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

country

3. if you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

writing

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

yes, how much will depend on the mood and what it is.

5. what was your favorite book as a child?

I had two books of fables, like... massive books with over 100 fables each. I read *a lot* as a child, but these two were some of my favorites as a little kid.

6. do you prefer baths or showers?

shower. really don’t like baths - i get suuuper bored and it feels cramped (probably because not only am I tall, but I am also fat)

7. if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

vampire

8. paper or electronic books?

paper is nicer, but I don’t mind ebooks at all and it’s nice cause I have a huuuuge collection at all times.

9. what is your favorite item of clothing?

a sheer tiered black dress. dresses in general.

10. do you like your name? would you like to change it?

nah, it’s fine. when I was a kid I wanted to be called Luisa, which is what my dad wanted to name me and it was the name of my best friend. since I’ve started using nicknames more, i don’t mind so much.

11. who is a mentor to you?

don’t think I have one. @whatagreatproblemtohave was definitely unknowingly (or knowingly, possibly) my Tumblr mentor. but in life i was just the .... go and do it type.

12. would you like to be famous? if so, what for?

not particularly. a writer would be a cool kind of famous; mainly famous between fans, no one would recognize you all that much and you probably could still live a somewhat normal life.

13. are you a restless sleeper?

depends. i usually don’t remember dreaming, i fall asleep pretty much instantaneously when i want (people have said it’s almost freaky at how fast i fall asleep) and stay that way until my cats start headbutting me in the morning. But from time to time, usually when I’m stressed with something, i do remember my dreams and then it’s just tossing and turning the whole evening.

14. do you consider yourself to be a romantic person?

yes i am. but I also have a baggage where this was used against me, and it’s really hard for me to show that side anymore, so I usually come off as cold.

15. which element best represents you?

earth

16. who do you want to be closer to?

some of the people i’ve met recently here. i think there are a lot of people here who share my world view and could be amazing real life friends.

17. do you miss someone at the moment?

no one in particular. i miss the idea of someone though.

18. tell us about an early childhood memory.

when I was about 6, my friend and I were very bored and it was very warm. we stealthily stole a bunch of toilet paper rolls from our apartments, went down to the building’s playground, stuffed the paper in all the drains and turned on the hose. We flooded the playground really, really badly, but weren’t discovered until hours later when we went to our homes soaking wet from playing all day.

19. what is the strangest thing you have eaten?

I don’t think it is strange - it is super tasty - but loads of people freak out? Chicken feet, neck and other weird bits of the chicken? My grandmother used to make them in a stew like way, and they get all melty and it’s delicious. Also ‘dobradinha’ which i don’t like at all, which is made out of cow's flat white stomach lining. And cow’s tongue, which is probably the best part of the cow and people who have never eaten one cooked well really freak out?

20. what are you most thankful for?

not sure how this is going to sound like, but... my own adaptability. i really can’t imagine where I would be right now if I wasn’t so good at handling life changes. I’m 31 and already had to start over with nothing to my name four times.

21. do you like spicy food?

Not really. I mean, I do - but I like the spice level to be at a point where I can taste the dish. I don’t like when everything is so spicy you might as well just eat the pure pepper, which seems to be most dishes I see. Pepper can be super flavorful, but if all you’re feeling is the heat than that’s not enjoyable for me.

22. have you ever met someone famous?

yes, quite a few times. both my mom and my stepfather worked in TV and cinema (where they met) as a costume designer and sound engineer, and with that I met loads of people.

23. do you keep a diary or journal?

tried many times, failed. I’m horrible with a routine.

24. do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

pen

25. what is your star sign?

capricorn

26. do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

crunchy

27. what would you want your legacy to be?

i don’t really care? i don’t feel like i need to leave my mark on the world.

28. do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

yes, a lot. i’ve been reading a LOT of fanfiction. Actual book was probably The Rosary Girls.

29. how do you show someone you love them?

spending time with them, sharing interests. it will very very rarely be a vocal thing.

30. do you like ice in your drinks?

depend on the drink. i prefer if the drink itself is cold.

31. what are you afraid of?

disappointing people. (and never seeing 1D back together). This is an unintentional RPDR reference, but that dialogue really spoke to my soul.

32. what is your favorite scent?

peppermint

33. do you address older people by their name or surname?

name.

34. if money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

probably the same, except with less worry. instead of working on what I do now, I would spend my time volunteering for a cat shelter, or have my own. more time for my craft and sewing, would study something.

35. do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

neither, if I am honest, but definitely swimming pools if i’m forced to chose.

36. what would you do if you found $50 in the ground?

try to find the owner. if I couldn’t, i would keep it. wallets are one thing - i’ve found a few before and I always call their bank and give them my contact (not the police, that doesn’t do anything), but pure cash? can’t trace that. i’ve lost money before, and i just hope whoever found it used it well.

37. have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish?

yes and yes.

38. what is one thing you would want to teach your children?

empathy

39. if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

my next one is definitely going to be Louis’ smiley face. I actually dreamed about it this evening, it was a very anxious dream and apparently my subconscious really want me to get the smiley with a tiny little doodle anchor next to it? on my wrist?

40. what can you hear now?

the fan of my computer screaming and my cats eating.

41. where do you feel the safest?

my bed

42. what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

is it too much to put my entire childhood here?

43. if you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

Woodstock. I would enjoy those days for about a week before going mad. I like my modern comforts.

44. what is your most used emoji?

🤣

45. describe yourself using one word.

impulsive

46. what do you regret the most?

nothing. i do the best i can at the situation I am in. yes, i would probably change stuff if i had the knowledge i have today, but that’s not regret.

47. last movie you saw?

Mr. Right.

48. last tv show you watched?

Ru Paul Drag Race All Start season 5

49. invent a word and its meaning

out of 49 this is the only one I’ll skip. oversharing? no problem. creativity? erm... my brain just goes blank.

#tag games

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pisati · 5 years

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december’s only just started but I think now’s a good a time as any to start a 2019 recap.

I don’t remember much of the first half of this year, if I’m honest. I remember it starting in a pretty dark place. I do remember starting talking to Gavin at the tail end of 2018; that was honestly a light spot in that space of time. I’d really been through it last year, and it was so nice and refreshing to talk to someone who genuinely seemed to care, who was genuinely interested in what I had to say and was genuinely curious about me. I felt kind of weird about that level of attention at first, but now I miss it. time’s gone on, what can I say, maybe I’m a little attached. not painfully so, but. this is someone I really do care about a lot.

which is why I’m still pretty regretful about january. I still don’t really know what happened over festivus weekend. I’d been so upset for so long, and next thing I know it’s back to the usual. but it was just.. nothing. I felt blank. my heart dropped into my stomach the next day once I realized how something that felt so insignificant could be so hurtful, and honestly I spent all of festivus in that dead zone at T’s house just really upset with myself. I don’t know how much I would’ve enjoyed it even if that hadn’t happened.

my depression was really bad. I remember my emotions being all over the place. I remember drinking and eating bundt cake alone at home in my bathtub on valentines day. I remember sending some messages I kind of regret, others just for fun, because fuck it, why not? I remember spending a lot of time in bed. a lot of time trying to reassure myself that I hadn’t done irreversible damage; that I hadn’t fucked up everything as per the usual. journaling, trying to keep my mood up above rock bottom. I was fostering that litter of rats early in the year, and that felt like a whirlwind. I remember going out to dinner with a friend, and coming home, even after having a good night, in a horribly sad mood. I barely remember any of the rest of it.

I’m sure some good things happened earlier in the year too. one of the few things keeping me sane, besides my rats, was waking up in the middle of the night to snapchat and whatsapp messages from Gavin. I was a complete mess, but having someone consistently showing me they cared and actually wanted to.. I don’t know, follow all my social media, get to know me, all that. it was nice. I remember having a real bad day mood-wise and going to yoga with charlotte, and coming back to a message that I was the ~some kinda angel~ he’d been dreaming about. amazing how something like that can pick you right up. I remember a lot of voice clips; he was real excited to hear my voice the first time. I don’t much care for my voice, but... that enthusiasm gave me a little more confidence to do more song covers. I hadn’t recorded that many in years, if ever.

I think I went to a few shows earlier in the year. I got to meet Phoebe Bridgers, which was so cool. Carmen took me back out to Baltimore after I’d just seen Hozier, and we saw Weezer and The Pixies. and I got to hear all about her girlfriend troubles and her adventures in Cuba. it was really nice reconnecting with a friend, hearing how she’s been trying to do better for herself, and she really is. I can’t say I’m not a little jealous of her; her confidence and radiance; but I’m also really proud of her too.

I started my mood tracker app in february, and I think I started seeing my psychiatrist not long after that. I’m still amazed she started me on something that didn’t make me sick, and might actually be working for me. I’m still recalling that one night I had, must’ve been february. I felt absolutely godawful, and nothing helped. it wasn’t anything in particular, I just felt Bad. I wouldn’t have done anything stupid, but I also felt for a minute like it’d never go away. I tried everything. I tried a bath, possibly a face mask. I tried writing, I think. I tried music. I even put on a disney movie or two like I would if I were feeling sick (I rarely ever watch anything disney, but when I get panicky from nausea I need something comforting). nothing helped. that I think is what prompted me to go to a psychiatrist this time. I hadn’t been in that deep of a pit in a long time.

things started to pick up with the weather. I felt myself balance out. I really thought for a minute that I was going to scare Gavin away with my erratic moods, and I thought he had this perception of me that I was some kinda crazy or overemotional or whatever else... but I was just in a real bad spot. I’m still grateful that he stuck by me through all that, and wasn’t too weirded out by me for it to be actually exciting when I got my plane tickets to Scotland. I was really excited too, but of course kind of nervous because I’d never been that far away from home by myself before.

I remember doing a good bit of volunteering, but I was really tired and couldn’t keep up with much more than one day a week. my energy levels were worrying. I know I saw a few doctors, because thankfully I had the time, but they weren’t terribly helpful.

I’m sure I went to more shows. I lost my Louie in June, not long after his second birthday. that was heart-shattering. I wasn’t expecting it from him; he was just fine. he just had a lump removed from his tail. he was such a happy, sweet boy. I couldn’t believe one minute he was snuggling with his cagemates, and the next I was holding his tiny little body in my hands, trying to get CPR to work, watching the life leave his eyes. taking him to the crematory was hard. picking up his ashes was hard. everything about it was hard. but I had to keep going. I wasn’t expecting that at all, and I was so scared Ollie would be alone, because Fitzie’s time was coming fast too. he’d been deteriorating over the course of the year and I just knew it was only a matter of months. his legs were going, and he couldn’t clean himself. towards the end I had to check his privates at least once a day; male rats get buildup of various fluids, oil, and skin cells, and those plugs can block their urethras. they generally clean it themselves, but when they get so old they can’t do it. so it was up to me to pull it out. I can’t say it wasn’t weirdly satisfying, kind of in the same way that popping a big pimple is satisfying, but it was definitely gross.

so I looked for more rats to adopt. and by some miracle, just like the day after Marty passed, I found a brand new litter posted by the rescue some of my fosters went to. I went to meet the baby boys and picked two, and while I probably could’ve picked a better match... I love my Harper and Micah to bits. they’ve got such personalities on them.

but of course, nothing is ever convenient. right after I adopted them (because I had to go through such a long adoption process; I could’ve had more time otherwise), I had to go to farm jam. I was a little over-prepared this year, but I’m glad I got myself a nice tent and prepared for rain. farm jam honestly wasn’t that great this year, though. my friends wanted to hang out with each other, hardly anyone talked to me, and their friends from other places that I didn’t even know had other friends that they brought to our campsite, so there were a lot of strangers around. not that that’s a bad thing, but... I just felt uncomfortable. everything is so different now. not to mention I just felt really alone. people talked to me when they needed to. I ended up actually pretty bored; I’d brought some things to keep myself entertained, but I was asleep before midnight every night because there was only so much I felt like staying awake for by myself. there was one night I was just really upset, so I made myself a quick dinner and shut myself in my tent while everyone else was up all night. I read by lantern-light, put in my earplugs after I was tired enough, and went to sleep. I was ready to be home again. I’m not sure if I want to go again next year. I like farm jam, truly, but it’s just not fun when you’re surrounded by ‘friends’ who can’t eve be bothered to talk to you. it was painfully obvious that I’m just not part of the group anymore.

I was glad to have Scotland to look forward to. I got to unpack and repack; thankfully I was smart enough to make packing lists before I even left for farm jam. I was nervous as all hell once I got to BWI and found my terminal, and once I landed in JFK I was trying real hard not to call my mom like I usually do when I get nervous. I get the travel jitters pretty bad. but I took some zzzquil before I got on the plane, and since I’d already been up all day I was grateful to sleep through a good bit of the 5.5 hour flight. I managed to stave off jet lag by staying up for another full day, but I can’t say I enjoyed it, ha.

I did enjoy everything else about that trip, though. I definitely had plenty of high points in my year (much more than last year, for sure), but this trip was probably the best. I know I wasn’t the most expressive (I guess I’ve learned not to be?), but I loved it there. I also know I got real lucky with the weather, so it’s not always as gorgeous as it was when I visited, but it really was lovely. I’d love to go back to Gourock one of these days. sit on the shore; a little slice of such a big world. I wouldn’t have wanted to skip rocks with much of anyone else.

I had a moment while I was catching my breath in Edinburgh; I’d gotten the tiniest bit lost and wound up in the park across the street from the Botanic Gardens, so I sat on a bench for a bit so I wouldn’t look weird. after a while I got up and crossed a big football field to get back where I was trying to go, and I remember looking up at the sky for a split second, and it really hit me that I was alone. that was the furthest away I’d been from home by myself, and I was in a city 2 hours away from the only other person I knew for thousands of miles. it wasn’t scary, necessarily. not even lonely. I think that feeling would’ve given me anxiety in the past. it was just... a profound aloneness.

I was really proud of myself for tackling Edinburgh by myself. figuring out the trains, going to see the castle, managing to avoid looking like a tourist so nobody hassled me, finding a little record shop to browse through, walking around the gardens alone. I was in so much pain I couldn’t even believe it, though. I’m amazed I made it back to the train without my leg bones breaking through my heels, and amazed I could even still walk by the time I got back to Gourock. my hips were so stiff and every step was hard. I know I pushed it. but it was so worth it.

I miss the feeling. that no-obligations feeling; being able to do pretty much anything we wanted because it was vacation time. I do remember feeling bad, not knowing what it was that I must’ve said or done (because why else would you go quiet on me?). that wasn’t so fun. but I know I’m not unreasonable. I’m not hard to talk to, I don’t think. I don’t explode over little things; I’d much rather talk through them than be left wondering what I did wrong, and then do it again. I don’t mean to be rude or mean or anything like that. we grew up with very different perceptions of things but I want to be on the same page, and sometimes that means being a little more conscious of what I say and do.

I wasn’t really looking forward to coming home, but thankfully I had a little bit more down time before I started my new job. and ever since the end of august, I’ve been in work mode, it feels like. I’ve tried to keep up with volunteering, I’ve kept myself entertained sending packages out to Scotland (can’t say I’m a fan of international shipping costs though), and I’ve dealt with the loss of a few pets. I’ve been lucky enough to have my mom’s help with moving out, and I feel like my meds are really helping me now too. I feel a lot more balanced out than I did, and having such a good work environment is helping immensely. I’m still not quite where I want to be, but I feel better than I have in years both mentally and emotionally.

the emotional front has changed too. back at the beginning of the year, I was so messed up, still. there was a lot of residual hurt after the 2 years or so prior, but I was also still super depressed. but the waters have calmed, and I’ve found that I’m not completely alone, necessarily. I have the hope that I have one person in my life now that won’t give up on me. I’ve had... something like a year now of something relatively consistent. I feel like I’ve been able to build some trust, and like I’m slowly chipping away at these walls I’ve had built up. for the first time in years I’m actually kind of upset about feeling lonely. for the first time in years I’m not feeling sick to my stomach thinking about holding a hand, or someone holding me, or, god forbid, even kissing someone. I might even want that. and it’s weird to me, now, because it almost seems out-of-character, since I’ve been so messed up for so long. but this isn’t out-of-character, it’s the character I used to be before things all went sideways. I’ve had this image of being distant and detached and repulsed and unfortunately that ends up getting tied to the fact that I’m asexual (though in actuality they’re not related). but I know that’s not me. I know my asexuality is just a fact about my attraction to other people, and it has little to do with my behavior. it’s weird to me, feeling like this again, but I’m so relieved the damage might not have been permanent. it helps that my memory is such garbage. hard to remember how to feel fucked up when you can’t hardly remember how you got there to begin with.

maybe my year will end on a little brighter note. I’m seeing a new rheumatologist on new years eve. I hope a few people will come visit for new years. I’ve got crafts to do and things to keep myself busy with. I hope Gavin will want to skype before the end of the year, but I get not feeling good. I get that talking takes energy. sometimes I feel like I just take a lot of energy to interact with, so I’m trying not to be annoying. I’m fine doing my own thing, as I have been. but I do miss his [virtual] company. it’s getting a lot more obvious since moving out how really quiet and lonely it is by myself, and I have this feeling in the bit of my stomach that I’d feel a lot better if I could share this space with someone. sometimes I just want to show someone something, make them smile, talk about little nothings. and I don’t have that right now. I’m trying to let little things make me happy and let that be good enough, but it’s hard sometimes. it would just be really nice to be able to rest my head on a shoulder. to laugh about a dumb tv show with someone. even though I feel a lot better than I used to when I missed people, things sometimes just aren’t as good alone.

a lot of this year felt really foggy. but I’m glad to be where I am, even though it’s making me nervous. I hope I’m putting a good foot forward. and I hope 2020 brings more growth and healing. I hope one of these days I can learn to be the kind of person I want to be, and that I can be good for someone else too. so I can just know that to at least one person I’m not completely insufferable. so I don’t have to be so afraid that I’m just going to drive people away so I self-isolate. I’m doing a lot better about the negative thoughts, but I want to keep improving on that too. I have a lot of work to do, but I want to do it. it’s scary to feel like I’m doing so much alone. it’s sad knowing everyone else is caught up in their own lives, but at least most of them have someone else. it hits me sometimes how really, really lonely it is to have your own life but completely alone. I don’t mind being single. but it would be nice to come home to someone I love. someone that isn’t my rats, though of course they brighten my day no matter what, ha.

so. yeah. I’m a little hopeful. I want to get my shit figured out a little bit more. it’d be real nice to go back to Scotland too, but I might have to put that idea on hold til my life balances out a little more. I’m just going one day at a time right now. I’m doing my best. and thankfully my best is getting a little better. I want to keep that up.

#a scattered 2019 recap #I had an ok year relatively speaking #it was nice to have something calm after the shitshow that was 2018 #I hope 2020 is even better #I'm gonna be miserable in the morning goodnight

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

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50 Questions Tag

Tagged by @g-exo Thank you sweetie! <3

1. What takes too much of your time?

Working and writing.

2. What makes your day better?

Writing, k-dramas, crafting, bullet journalling, chocolate lol.

3. What’s the best thing that happened to you today?

This is going to sound odd, but we have 3 little kittens (and their mama) who we rescued from our horses’ hay shed a few weeks ago. The kittens started on solids like two days ago and one of them hadn’t pooped and was pretty full. After some assistance from me, she went and pooped. I could have cried with pure happiness. Poor thing was so uncomfortable.

4. What fictional place would you like to go to?

The world of Howl’s Moving Castle. To be able to use the door in Howl’s Castle to go to different realms and places would be truly magical.

5. Are you good at giving advice?

I believe so. Not so good at taking the same said advice though >_<

6. Do you have any mental illness?

Generalised Anxiety.

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis?

Nope and I’m grateful that I haven’t :/ << same.

8. What musician inspired you the most?

SHINee as a group. I was in a hard place when I got into kpop with being unable to walk. I was entirely depressed from my accident and thought I would never get anywhere again. Their music gave me an escapism that I needed at first, and then I found the confidence in myself to get back up and try again.

9. Have you ever fallen in love?

I don’t think I truly know what love is aside from familial love. I’ve not had the opportunity to fall in love.

10. What’s your dream date?

I don’t think I have one. Something simple yet fulfilling with a person who is actually engaged in the date happenings and wanting to be in my company would be enough for me!

11. What do others notice about you?

I like to give. Everyone who has come across me - whether in passing or actually get to know me, all say that I have this ability to share with others and make their lives brighter by doing so.

The ones who know me well complain that I don’t know when to stop and rest because I’m so focused on completing my tasks/ giving to others lol.

12. What is an annoying habit you have?

I guess the above - being too stubborn to know when I need to rest. I’m pretty bad about it. I overload myself and then get too stressed out. It’s something I’m working on!

13. Do you still talk to your first love?

Not applicable to me.

14. How many ex’s do you have?

Zero.

15. How many songs are in your playlist?

6456 is the amount I have on itunes. I have various playlists that I listen to despite my mood though.

16. What instruments can you play?

None.

17. Who do you have the most pictures of?

Uhhhh on my phone it’s Mark Tuan. Followed by Kyungsoo and both Jung/Park Jinyoung’s.

18. Where would you like to go before you die?

Italian Peninsula is my top pick. Other places would be Greece, Japan, Korea and England.

19. What is your zodiac?

Gemini technically.

20. Do you relate to it?

I fall on the Gemini-Cancer cusp and relate to articles I’ve read of Gemini-Cancer cusp people than pure Gemini traits. I’m definitely not an outgoing, carefree person as Gem’s are describe to be lol.

21. What is happiness to you?

My family, friends and even our pets succeeding in life. Seeing their happiness makes me feel good.

22. Are you going through anything right now?

This whole year has been a “going through” kind of year. Every time I think things are settling, another thing is thrown my way. But I’m optimistic it means I’m getting stronger with this testing period.

23. What’s the worst decision you’ve ever made?

Not buying VIP tickets when B.A.P came here for their L.O.E tour. I chose Gold tickets because they had seats and as a partially disabled person through my right leg, I didn’t think I could stand for the duration of the concert. It’s something I’ve regretted for years - they were so amazing to everyone, but those in VIP were so darn lucky with all the interactions they had!

24. What’s your favourite store?

I guess Gordon Harris, the local art store, because I am always there picking up new stationery supplies for bullet journalling.

25. What’s your opinion on abortion?

It’s a very personal choice. As a person who wants to be a mother one day, it’s an option I could never ever bring myself to do. However, it’s not my place to judge, condemn or preach at those who feel it’s their only choice at the time.

26. Do you keep a bucket list?

Kind of? In my bullet journal for the past 2 years I’ve done the whole “19/20 things to do before 2019/2020″ but I don’t have an official bucket list or anything.

27. Do you have a favourite album?

Probably Verse 2 - JJ Project because I listen to it all the time. Otherwise, Good Timing - B1A4 is probably another long time favourite.

28. What do you want for your birthday?

Not really sure... my birthday is hard because it’s ten days before my Dad’s death anniversary. So I just try to do something to smile each year. Maybe go out for dinner to celebrate mine and Mum’s birthday (she’s a week exactly after my birthday)

29. What are most people’s first impression of you?

I’ve been told most people think I’m shy and awkward but once I talk, they are surprised with how engaging I can be in conversation. Which makes me laugh because generally on the inside I’m panicking as I have social anxiety issues.

30. What age do you seem according to most people?

I’m 32 but people never seem to think it. When I was at university, I was older than everyone else as an adult student but they all thought I was around 20-21 when I was 24+ hahah.

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping?

On top of Octavia’s crate which is next to my bed. Or if I need to charge it, I leave it on my desk. I’m a very light sleeper so when my alarm goes off, it doesn’t need to be next to me to wake me up.

32. what word do you say the most?

When I’m talking - “like” (which really annoys me). When I’m writing - “but”.

33. What’s the oldest age you would date?

I try to believe I would date anyone regardless of age. But I’ve been known to have put an age limit of no more than 8 years older when I was feebly using dating websites. I don’t actively search for someone anymore, so if they came into my world and matched me well in a natural way, then I don’t think age would deter me.

34. What’s the youngest age you would date?

I’m a bit more carefree on this one... I think it comes from being an older kpop fan and liking on younger idols because there’s hardly any idols left that are my age/older lol. Again as above, I wouldn’t let a younger age deter me in the right setting.

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you?

Author. I’ve even done those career quizzes on multiple occasions and the first choice is always Author/Writer.

The second choice people say is teacher. Which I was training to be until my injury.

36. What’s your favourite music genre?

K-Pop.

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be?

I’m happy where I live. I’ve never thought of being able to live elsewhere.

38. What is your current favourite song?

White or Feeling - both by Jeong Sewoon.

39. How long have you had this blog for?

I started it on July 2nd, 2018.

40. What are you excited for?

Uh, I’m not really excited for anything?

41. Are you a better talker or listener?

A bit of both.

42. What is the last productive thing you did?

Yesterday I made a new paddock up for our horses, cleaned out my guinea pig’s house, cleaned out the entire bathroom where Byul and her kittens are staying. And then last night I did Chelle Chats which was pretty busy!

Today I’ve been pretty chill compared so far.

43. What do you want for Christmas?

I’m not sure. I’m never good at knowing what I want. Better at knowing what to buy others.

44. What class do you get the best grades in?

In high school, it was English and Biology. In university, it was Classics/Ancient History.

45. On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now?

46. What can you see yourself doing in 10 years?

Not sure. I had an image of how I hoped to be a mother, and continuing on with my art business, but with puberty rocking our house with my sister and my finances taking a nose dive, fertility treatment is long gone sadly. I’ll just think I’ll focus on the now and improve/appreciate what I have!

47. When did you first get your heartbreak?

I’m sure this question is related to dating but for me, when I was 14 my heart broke when my Nana died. And in 2012, when my Dad was killed was when I gained another ball in my box of grief. Last year was tough losing my dog of 15.5 years too. Got three balls in that box now :(

As for dating, sure, I’ve hurt from limited attempts to confess and being rejected... but I’ve never had real opportunity for heartbreak like that.

48. At what age do you want to get married?

Lmfao. I’ll probably be single for my whole life. Marriage is so far from the cards for me, I can’t imagine it.

49. What career did you want to have as a child?

I wanted to be a Veterinarian or Teacher.

50. What do you crave right now?

Food cos it’s 1.34pm and I’ve not eaten yet oops.

Tagging: @this-song-thats-only-for-you @mark-tuan-and-namjoon-lover @katdefbeom @listlessmaenads @tuanyiems @peachyparkjinyoung @jinyoungmoans @ahgase55g7 @itsallabigmess and anyone else who wants to do this!

#get to know the blogger #pwyl; tagged

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a-functional-lowlife-blog · 5 years

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8.11.19

So I’ve never really utilized anything other than a diary to jot down my daily feels, but something tells me I might find some comfort knowing that nobody can sneak into my room and read my journal. Tumblr seems like a good enough void to dump these thoughts into. Maybe it’s my psyche craving a positive outlet.. Id rather this be private, but sometimes connections supposed to help, right? If topics of abuse, death, suicide, or depression trigger you, please do not continue reading. So I guess, let’s start from the top.

I’m 2X years old, & I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing with my life right now. I’m a gamer, & employed, But it’s not like I”m pursuing some great dream. I’m kind of coasting through life, trading experiences for fragments of myself. But I’m honestly rather content, at the moment. I make decent enough money. I can afford to shelter myself, feed myself, & entertain myself. So to some people, yeah it might look like i’ve had it pretty easy. In some ways, I have; in others, not really.

It was just me & my mom growing up. Dad wasn’t around, & i don’t really want to get into that right now. My mom did everything she could for me. And I, of course being a growing hormonal boy, never truly appreciated it until I got into the real world. Thanks mom. She low-key prepared me for almost anything. I graduated high school, no special titles or accolades, but I could hear her screaming well above the entire stadium of parents when they called my name. I hope I can make her that proud again someday. I haven’t seen her in almost 4 years. Life can be a bitch like that once you’re an actual adult.

Since graduating high school, I’ve fathered a child, a little girl, who continues to blow my mind every day, with her brains & beauty. Damn, my ugly mug made one amazing little girl. Everything I do, I do for her. Even when it doesn’t seem like it. The mother & I are still on fantastic terms, but we separated a couple years after the birth. It just didn’t work as a healthy relationship anymore, & our daughter deserved better than that.

After we parted ways, I got myself tangled up with a girl that, in hindsight, I should have never said hello to. Now don’t get me wrong, the first 2 years were truly magical. She was young, beautiful, petite body, alternative with piercings & tattoos. Which was basically me, young, rather handsome, fit body, alternative with piercings and tattoos. A match, it would seem, made in heaven. She made me feel alive again. She reinvigorated me to my soul, showed me new experiences I never could have imagined, or dared to do otherwise. I felt happy. Which for me, is a rather fleeting bird, one that’s typically driven away by the raven. It was just like a fairy-tale. We all know those aren’t real. I should have seen the warning signs. The “red flags” that everyone says I ignored. But red flags look like regular flags when looking through rose-tinted glass. If you’ve stumbled upon this by chance, & are triggered by abuse, or suicide, I suggest you stop reading now.

It started out with little things. Roast-like insults, but sometimes they hurt a little more than they should. Which, obviously, led my mind to tell me “stop being so sensitive.” I’d let it slide. As we approached the 2 year mark, it started getting nastier. Her patience with me was very thin. The smallest error, like I forgot to pick up soda on the way home from my 10 hour shift once, led to me being belittled with insults to my intelligence & even attacks on my dedication to her. It only got worse as time went on. I silently cried myself to sleep most nights. My self-esteem was in an entirely different dimension by this point. I’ve become completely submissive to her. I looked at myself in the mirror one night, after doing things that I regret doing, and being disgusted in myself for letting it get so bad. For never stepping back up & standing my ground. I got us through homelessness. I had helped her get help because she had a severe mental illness that I will not put here. Her every wish, within my power, was my command. Why should I tolerate being treated like something stuck to the bottom of her shoe when kindness didn’t suit her? So I did. That was the first time she hit me. Just once, open palmed to my left temple.

It didn’t stop. It got worse. I will not go into details, because almost 3 years later, I still panic when I try to think about those months. Most of my friends & family do not know how bad it got. And those that do, do not even know who she even was. It collapsed faster when I started to dissociate after multiple (thankfully) failed suicide attempts. I started cheating, trying to get her to leave me, since she wouldn’t allow me to leave her without threatening to kill herself. “You’re my soulmate, I won’t live without you.” She kept me in that state of submissive fear for another year, using the same lines. Using the same deflection tactics to make me question myself. All while calling me her “soul mate”. I hate that fucking word now.

But I did finally get the courage to leave. In the middle of the night, a train ride back to my hometown. She tried to work back into my life a few times over the next 2 years. I eventually stopped talking to her, because she would always try to convince me to come back to her, that it can be different, that she’s willing to start over. So I stopped talking to her last year. And now, I can’t anymore, because last month, she killed herself. I honestly never stopped loving her. I can feel the hole where her energy used to be, the bits she contributed to my soul, snuffed out.. I blame myself for her suicide. And I hate that I fell in love with such a beautiful, toxic soul.

We can skip over the few fling relationships I held while in my hometown, except for one girl, who I will forever thank for showing me what a true loving, healthy relationship, based on trust and open communication can actually be like. We got into it knowing we were on a time limit, because I was already in the process of saving up to move again, this time, 3,000 miles away. But we had good chemistry, and I think the relationship was the perfect amount of time for both of us. She’s a LoZ girl. Major fan. As in, owns every game, tons of merch, follows tons of streamers on Twitch who play Legend of Zelda, especially if it’s Ocarina of Time. Coastal gamer girl is probably the best description of her. She’s still one of my best friends, & I talk to her on occasion. She’s super happy, and living a rather adventurous life. I’m super happy for her.

Our fateful day came, and I had to move away. She comforted me during the entire packing process. Which literally filled 2 boxes I shipped to my new address, my military backpack, & a laptop case. It still resulted in 8 hours of back to back anxiety attacks. I only knew TWO people in the town where I was moving to. One of them, I had never physically met before in our entire 14 year friendship. So, rightfully, I was terrified to leave. I’d reconnected with old friends in my hometown. I’d met an amazing girl in my hometown. I’d landed a really fantastic job in the medical field in my hometown. What was I thinking?! Leave all of THIS?!

But I knew why. She knew why. Everyone in my life knew why. The answer was simple. Yeah, I had a good job, a good girl, & a relatively good life. But I wasn’t truly happy. In my soul. Just as I was in the states I’ve lived before. And that was okay. We had the perfect amount of happiness.

So here I am, in an undisclosed new location, three-thousand miles away from my hometown. And honestly, I’m happier here than I’ve ever been anywhere else. Do I see myself dying here? No, not really. But I could kick it here for a decade or so, if the fates allow my life that long? Sure. The best friend I’d never met before, is just as amazing in person. We play video games together now & then, and go out to the downtown bar scene sometimes for karaoke. There’s 3 roommates total. I enjoy being their roommate. Also, there’s 4 cats. who I absolutely love, and will contemplate posting their pictures here too, for memories sake.

I’ve made some really amazing friends, especially one girl in particular. She’s been very good to me, in many ways. Dinners, events, concerts, party weekend for my last birthday to pass. All while both of us just have a blast around each other. She’s helped me alot these last few months, everything from food to rent, while I struggled to find work, & get on my own two feet. I struggled for 5 months before I landed myself where I am now. So to celebrate, she & I went and got tattoos today.

I got a tattoo of the chemical structure of serotonin on my wrist. To remind myself to be happy, because I’ve already spent so much time being sad. And that I’m going to keep making myself happier, by staying true to myself, learning & growing from the events I’ve been through in my life, both good and bad. Creative, & destructive. Because it’s all molded me into who I am now.

So really without getting into childhood stories, high school shenanigans, & college hijinx, that’s the story of Z. A recent handle I’ve taken to lately, in case someone does decide to read this. I’d like to add to this little... off-site journal once a week, maybe more often.

That’s all I’ve got for today. I’m sufficiently stoned now, & would like to return to playing Apex Legends.

Signing off,

#journal #private #tw suicide #tw abuse #tw drugs #read at your own discretion #do not repost #venting

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greener-living · 6 years

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I’ve always been excited about turning thirty. it’s a time where you have an idea of who you are as a person and what you want. I’ve spent a lot of time self reflecting and these are just some of my thoughts that have been going through my mind lately.

holy moly the last twelve months have been challenging. from my dad being really sick, to two friends passing away, to my 7 year relationship ending, and having to find a new place to call home.

this is not where I thought I’d be. thinking back on a year ago this is not what I pictured at all but it gives me comfort thinking that in a year’s time I will look back and think of how I made it through.

having this self awareness is a funny thing. you know that you need to feel whatever emotions you’re going through but you also know that it isn’t permanent.

some advice I got was to allow yourself to be sad but define a point from which you want to start looking forward, being selfish and focus on shaping your future (thanks jesper).

but don’t be too hard on yourself. each day the sun will rise and you can begin again. take little achievable steps and over time you will keep moving forward. one of my first goals was to just eat breakfast every day. it sounds silly but it was something that was hard for me but I needed to do and if I did it it was a step forward in the right direction.

I am so loved. ridiculously. the number of people who are there for me is in abundance and they want to be there. don’t feel like you’re a burden if people are reaching out to you and offering their support. you need people to help lift you back up and they will hold you in loving arms.

it’s amazing how I have bonded with so many people that I haven’t even met. I have received so many meaningful and loving messages over the last year. there are negatives to social media but so many positives like connection and awareness.

we are not invincible. my dad is doing better but every time he went into surgery it was so hard to comprehend that he may not come back out and I would not have that unconditional love anymore that your parents give.

it’s so interesting to find out more about your parents when they were younger and what shaped them to be the people that they are. it helps you understand the reasons in which they raised you the way that they did. I became a lot closer to my mum when we had an open discussion until 4 o’clock one morning and our relationship has been the best it has ever been.

I also had this realisation of why I always felt so much closer to my dad rather than my mum. I was asked what is something that you clearly remember embarrassing you as a kid and mine was that I didn’t know the words penis and vagina and only knew them in filipino. the kids made fun of me and when I went home to my mum she told me that I was right but my dad had to tell me that the kids were right too. mum would tell untrue things about sexuality and I realise now that it’s a cultural thing that she was doing out of love and protection for my innocence but it meant that I would always go to my dad so I have always opened up to my dad more than my mum.

as you get older you realise that your parents are just normal human beings whose ideas or beliefs you may not agree with anymore and that’s okay.

my parents and my christianity led me to think that marriage should only be between a man and woman. but I remember so clearly maybe only like five years ago bursting into tears when I had the realisation that love is love. it was literally like a penny dropping.

even though I don’t go to church except for the occasional easter or christmas service now I wouldn’t be the person I am today without religion. it taught me kindness and compassion and I can’t describe the comfort and piece of home I feel when I hear certain gospels and hymns.

if in doubt do what you love and it will work out in some way. dance has allowed me to be where I am right now. I remember my dad asked me to choose between going to private school or dancing and I chose dancing. I ended up being school captain and got an OP 6. my parents also had it in their head that if I didn’t go to university straight away I would never go so I chose to do dance until I figured out a couple of years later to add business as a second degree. and dance is what led me to yoga. I went because I got an injury and thought it would be a good way to keep fit before going back to dance but then I fell in love with yoga and now it’s my life. so even though you may not be sure at the time, do what you love and it will come together in some form or another.

going on from that point if I have children I won’t force them to go straight into university if they don’t want to. I think it’s hard for a lot of us to know what we want to do at 16. most people I’ve spoken to they didn’t know and lots of people changed their degrees or career paths. so if you want to take a gap year, work in a cafe and have fun then do it. you’ll find your way.

if you want to do your yoga teacher training I would recommend doing it in india. it’s such a wonderful experience to take a whole month for yourself. it’s easier to stick to the lifestyle and shut off from everything else. the cost of doing it in india works out the same if not even cheaper than doing it in the west.

be authentically you. people dig it and can tell if you’re not being genuine. in my yoga classes I make my little jokes and laugh at myself and people love that.

but some people don’t and that’s okay. I remember one time I was covering a class at a health club in london and had three people walk out. it was so hard not to be offended but then five people came up afterwards and said how much they loved it.

not everyone is going to like you and most of the time that’s someone reacting to you rather than what you’re doing specifically.

write a love letter to yourself for those times you feel uncertain to remind yourself of your amazingness. sometimes we can into this dark and twisty place that we are blinded and can’t see the light and joy that is there.

*trigger warning* it’s not okay to hurt yourself and if this is happening please go speak to someone. I couldn’t handle it when I found out the love of my life didn’t want me anymore. it started with digging my nails into my skin, then beating my legs with my fists to banging my head against walls. all I could keep thinking was a knife to my throat because I couldn’t handle the pain. so I booked in for therapy. don’t be afraid of therapy. mental health is so important. if you need to speak please call lifeline on 13 11 14.

I’m actually okay being by myself. it’s just the hurt of what happened that I am still dealing with but I know that it is the cliche of time that will heal.

I’m not one of those people who think oh my god I’m going to be a spinster and die alone. let’s be real, I’m a yoga instructor with cute freckles – I’ll find someone who will rock my world. however I don’t want to rush into dating because I had the rebound experience last time and it was very selfish. even though we explicitly didn’t say we would be exclusive I knew that it was more than we we were letting on and when I became serious with my ex boyfriend it was so hard to let this other person know. I’m not saying no to anything and will be open if someone comes, but I won’t be actively seeking something as I need to take this time for myself.

I’m struggling with forgiveness. do you need to forgive, when they haven’t asked? especially when you have already forgave them and did the same thing to you again when they promised they wouldn’t? it will most likely be something that I will need to do in some capacity for myself to move forward but for now I can’t.

I go through these thoughts that he has all these attractive qualities because of me. well traveled, more grounded and calm, vegetarian, practices yoga – things that our relationship shaped. but I’m more than positive he’s given me qualities too that I can’t think of specifically right now because I’m still too overwhelmed. I was discussing this with someone and they laughed because I’m still trying to see the best in this person.

there are some people who you can try and help all you can but there’s comes a point where they need to help themselves and if they can’t then you need to walk away. if someone is toxic it’s unfair that they receive that beautiful energy that you have and take you down. I don’t regret any of our time together. we had an amazing life so that’s the biggest shame that it ended the way it did because it’s not the ending we deserved.

travel gives me so much fulfilment. I’ve been to 46 countries so far and have had the most amazing experiences from boating with hippos in botswana, sea kayaking in albania, husky rides in finland, camel rides into the desert in morocco, exploring forts in oman, skiing in canada, volunteering in haiti, eating tacos in mexico, and camping around new zealand.

if you can live overseas at least once in your life go for it. I’m trying to decide right now whether I should pack up and leave again because now there’s nothing that holding me here.

I got a credit card so I could get all the frequent flyer points but it was a bad idea. I was always in debt so one day I just cut up my credit cards and it was the best decision of my life. also become financially independent. unfortunately even though I was very aware and over the years asked many times and was reassured that I would never have to worry about money I became financially dependent on my partner and then it ended.

finally, take time to be with yourself in some way. whether that be a journal, jotting down your dreams, going to your favourite class, listing the bands you’ve seen, taking 5 minutes to meditate or writing down your favourite memories as it pops up in your timeline. it’s a wonderful thing to remember what you’ve done or felt to help shape where you are going or where you want to be. it all starts with working on you and the rest will work itself out.

#ground bloom flourish #self reflection #self awareness #thirtieth birthday #self worth #self love #self acceptance #self journey #journalling

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theburninglilac · 3 years

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Journal Entry #1

Okay, so here’s the thing. I'm not good at journaling! I want to be so badly, but I’m just not. Alas, we will power through and I want to tell you all a story. I have had a good life, overall. I love my family, and they love me. I’m surrounded by a great support system that aids me through my everyday life -- I’m content. But, I miss my grandmother.

My grandmother passed away when I was just nearing eleven years old. This isn’t a sob story, trust me. Well, I mean, it really depends on how you look at it. I don’t see it as a sob story, I just see it as a realization that could have been avoided if I tried a bit harder. What does that mean, you ask? Well, let’s chat.

For real this time . . .

My grandmother used to be my best friend, we were just the same. We both were practically blind, hated country music, and had an undying love for Cherry Garcia ice cream. Basically twins.

Well, Sundays in my family were extremely important. Not for religious reasons per se (I was religious, but usually that was focused on my father's side.) Sundays were a day of relaxation and good food. And trust me, my great-grandmother knew good food. Great-Grandma was a woman with taste. You didn’t know heaven until you broke off the head of her gingerbread men at Christmas time. She could make something delicious out of nothing.

She had birthed ten kids. Ten kids, can you imagine? I’m an only child, and sometimes hearing stories about my youth is too much for me. Anyways, nine of her ten children went on to have kids. Some went on to have multiple, and some had one. My grandmother, or meem, (childhood nicknames never cease to amaze me. Like, seriously, ‘meem’? What does that even mean? Where in the world did I even get that name?) Anyways . . . my grandmother had one biological child, my mother. But, she had one step-daughter, who was my grandfather’s, “peep” (again, with the childhood nicknames . . . ) biological daughter. My aunt. My aunt was always close with my grandmother. Always. And, so was my mother. My grandmother was a loving woman, who smoked a bit too much and drove an unmistakable green jeep for most of my life.

I always had an issue with her smoking. I hated that she was ruining her lungs because the second you heard that specific cough; the one that would start small and build and build and build, until you never knew if it was going to stop, scared me. I grew up with most of my family on my mother’s side smoking. It was always an afterthought seeing my family gathered on the porch with their lighters and packs of Camels in hand. The smell of cigarettes was never exactly comforting growing up, but it was familiar.

My mom hated when everyone smoked around me. I was diagnosed with asthma at a very young age. I’ve been to the ER more times than I’d like to admit for my crappy lungs, and cigarette smoke never helped. Well, my grandmother was one of the worst smokers in my family. She would smoke up to a pack or more in a day, and it got to the point where she had to be put on oxygen.

I’m not sure if I have any pictures of her without an oxygen tank strapped to her person.

Anyways, Sundays were my favorite. At my great-grandmother’s we’d all laugh and eat, gossip and smile. Those breakfasts will always be a fond memory in my mind.

Everyone seemed genuinely happy . . . I was genuinely happy. My parents were yet to be divorced, everyone was alive and well, and there was a whole lot of love being spread.

As much as I love breakfast with my family, after breakfast was my favorite part of the day. Meem and Peep’s house.

My grandparents lived in a small trailer located on the Hudson River. It was a single wide, molding in some areas, and no appliance was from the 2010s. Nonetheless, it was my favorite place in the world. Because I adored my grandmother.

She was a painter, and I loved watching her particular strokes on the pieces she worked on. She never was mad at me either, unlike my grandfather. My grandfather is a stern man. He is brute and terribly blunt, but he has a good heart. His passions include hunting and rodeos, which I was never a fan of, so it was hard seeing eye to eye with him all the time.

As an only child, I made my own fun, playing with dolls by myself, making up stories that only I heard, and reading books that I borrowed from the public library. I wasn’t allowed any electronic devices until I was in middle school, so for years, I made my own fun.

One of my favorite activities was having my grandmother lie down with me and make up stories as I napped in her room. I’m sure if she were still alive today she would roll her eyes at the thought, because I asked her to make up story after story . . . but, she always did.

As a child, I was never “in the know” about my family’s finances. My father is a factory worker, and my mother is a manager at a store, but also ran a babysitting service when a was young. We were your everyday middle-class folk, living in a boring middle-class house, on a boring middle-class street, in a boring middle-class town. I liked boring though because as a child, I didn’t know boring. Boring wasn’t a concept I understood.

I remember one Christmas I really wanted a doll called “Lalaloopsy.” I wanted it so bad, and that year, they were all the rage for young children between the ages of five to twelve. As Christmas day approached, I remembered opening up the present from my grandmother and shrieking with joy. It was the doll I wanted. The very doll that I wanted for the majority of the year. It was in my hands, and I couldn't have been any happier.

I hugged my grandparents tightly and thanked them, but as I did, I remembered the smile my grandmother had on her face. It wasn’t happy. It was almost sad . . . but why would that be? It’s Christmas day! We're opening presents! This is fun!

Come to find out, my grandparents struggled financially that year. That present was from my mother and father, with a gift tag that was from my grandparents. They couldn't afford gifts that year. And knowing that after my grandmother’s passing broke my heart.

It’s not just because of the money, that this news broke my heart. It was the fact that my grandmother was willing to give anyone anything. She went as far as giving her neighbors, a couple who struggled even worse financially, their beautiful faux Christmas tree. I was disappointed, because as a child I had zero concept of money, and thought this completely ridiculous. Instead of their beautiful Christmas tree, my grandparents opted for a small two-foot faux tree that couldn’t fit ornaments.

As I’ve grown, I can finally appreciate the selflessness of my grandmother and her services to so many people. Will I ever know if she actually wanted to keep her tree? No. But, do I know it most likely made the day of a couple who were more in need of holiday cheer? No doubt.

As the years passed, my grandmother’s health decreased rapidly. And, as this happened, my parents filed for divorce. Most people said it was completely out of the blue -- I thought it was completely out of the blue. But, I grew older and realized just how different my parents were. And just how their differences hurt each other, rather than encouraging each other.

When I was eleven I dealt with a lot. At least in my opinion. My dog died, and being that I had no siblings, this was a difficult loss. She had cancer . . . everywhere. She couldn’t be saved, and when she was put down, it pained me. Secondly, we moved. Not far, sure . . . but, we moved. I didn’t want to leave my boring house, on my boring street. But, we did. And I still miss that house. Thirdly, my parents' divorce. I cried for days because of this news. I loved my parents being together. I really did. The idea of having parents divorce, when I lived in a family (my father’s side) that said divorce was sinful, scared me. I grew up listening to my family a lot, to which I regret. They taught me ideals that I simply don’t hold anymore, thanks to their traditional views and outlooks. But, nonetheless, I needed my parents to stay together. See, here is the thing. I‘d like to believe I’m religious. I think God is real to an extent, but I believe in science. I’d like to think there is something after death, but I'm terrified of the idea of Hell.

I think that’s what I’ve always struggled with when dealing with religion. I don’t want to be scared to devote myself to a religion, because frankly, I am scared of it. If it wasn’t worse than divorce, I’m a bastard. Yeah, I said it. I was born out of wedlock, and my parents didn’t “tie the knot” until I was eight. They had been together for more than a decade before their wedding, but when they had me, the bible had declared me a sin. Not even my choice. I was a sin the second I was brought into this world. Not that I believe that anymore, but as a child, I doubted my self worth. Though, I didn’t exactly know the concept of “self-worth” as an eleven year old, I did know that sometimes I felt ashamed for no reason. I’d look around at my family, my cousins, and aunts and uncles who lived happily together. I wanted that.

When I had these thoughts I constantly confined to my grandmother, she always knew what to say. She always made me feel like I was worth it. She loved me through thick and thin.

This leads to my fourth reason of, ‘Why I Dealt with A Lot When I Was Eleven.’

My grandmother was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and died, all within ten days.

I know this isn’t a sob story, but God, I sobbed. A lot. Remember how I said she was a smoker? Well, once she went on oxygen, she quit. She did it! She was the first sibling in her family to quit smoking. But, she was the first to pass away.

Ironic right?

Well, as the days went on, my grandmother couldn't speak. It physically hurt her to speak. I remember leaving the hospital on one of her last days on this Earth feeling mad. Little ole’ me, mad at my grandmother because she had cancer. I wasn’t mad at the fucking cancer, I was mad at her.

I left the hospital with my dad, and she hadn’t said she loved me. It’s not because she didn't want to, it’s because she fucking couldn’t. I called my mom in tears, I just wanted to hear my grandmother. That’s all I wanted. So, my mother put my grandmother on the line with her small flip phone to tell me she loved me.

Her voice was so scratchy, I knew it hurt. I had to have hurt. But, between the tears and anger I had towards her, I didn’t care about her pain. She said she loved me. But, that wasn’t MY grandmother. That wasn’t the woman I had known for my entire life. That wasn’t the woman who liked orange flavored cinnamon buns, and The Golden Girls. This sounded like a complete stranger.

I gave the phone back to my dad. I didn’t want to hear her. Because hearing her say “I love you” on repeat felt too painful. I knew that this was going to be my last call with her, and instead of saying “I love you too,” . . . I cried and handed the phone back to my dad.

I regret that to this day.

Because, two days later, she died. I had no grandmother anymore. And, I had been too scared and angry to say “I love you,” because I knew that would have been the last time I did so.

At the funeral, I couldn’t get out of my mother’s car. I was too sad. My tears had puffed my eyes so much I couldn’t see. And with my parents' fresh divorce, there was tension in the air. Could you imagine? On top of the grief and sorrow, the tension between my parents was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

In the days leading up to my grandmother's funeral, I told my mom I wanted to write a speech. I wanted to speak to the crowd of people in front of me and redeem myself from my last phone call with her. But, when I built up enough courage to walk into the funeral home, I saw everyone. Tears were being shed, people were hugging one another, and suddenly the tiny piece of composition notebook paper in my hand didn’t feel important.

I’ve always been uncomfortable around deceased people. This is funny because I live right across the road from a cemetery. But, when deceased people are on display, I can never build up the bravery it takes to approach them. Because they look alive. With makeup done nicely, and a beautiful outfit to go along with the makeup. Seeing a deceased body never felt real, because by all means of appearance -- they looked alive.

It took a lot that day to approach my grandmother. This was the first time I had seen her without an oxygen tank by her side in years, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses. I studied her face for a long time, then I prayed. My grandmother wasn’t intensely religious. I think she believed in God, but to what extent -- I’ll never know. So, as an eleven-year-old kneeling down and “praying” I spoke to whoever was willing to listen. Whether it was a God, or my grandmother, maybe no one, who knows . . . I still spoke. After my praying, I plucked up all the courage I had to hold my grandmother’s cold lifeless hand. I wanted to throw up, that I remember. I was so overwhelmed, but it felt nice in some sense. Because at that very moment, I was in my own world with just my grandmother again. I couldn’t say it was a happy moment, but maybe somber is a good word for it.

I placed the speech I had written for my grandmother in her palm and wrapped her hand around it. It was our secret. One last secret, before I said goodbye.

The months after her passing were tough for everyone in my family. Arguments were made, feuds were started, and by six months of fighting, Sunday morning breakfasts no longer happened. I had never realized how much my grandmother affected the entire family. Once she was gone, siblings were blaming each other for her death, my grandfather practically fell dormant, and my parents fell into what would become a multiple-year distaste for each other. All because of my grandmother.

I suppose no one in my family had a heart like hers. I never felt the warmth of happiness around anyone, that I had felt with her. She was pure magic.

I’ve grown up my entire teenage life, turning adult life, without her. There are days where I beg her to give me a sign that she’s watching. Some days they come, some days they don’t. My family was never too tech-savvy when I was a child, so there is a lack of pictures of my youth. This means there’s a lack of pictures including my grandmother.

I miss her. Sometimes I still feel anger at myself, because as I grow older it’s harder to remember what she looks like.

I no longer can remember the sound of her voice.

I wish I could hug her once more. Or drive around in her ridiculous green jeep once more. Maybe even make fun of country music together.

I wish she could have watched me grow older. Maybe watch my graduation. Drop me off at college. Help me decide on my prom dresses. God, the things I wish we could’ve done. But, life moves on. I miss her, but I can’t dwell in the past, because she simply wouldn’t have agreed with that decision.

I pray she doesn’t hold a grudge against me because of our final goodbye.

I pray that she watches over me and smiles because of my achievements.

I just hope she’s happy now.

#journal #story #family #love

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rmjagonshi · 6 years

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Whole Again - Chapter 1

Whole Again on AO3

It took him several weeks to put all the jumbled thoughts together. Figments and fractals of memories long past; memories from a lifetime ago faint and muted in the light of the dawn. Stan’s hands gripped the railing of the Stan O’War II as his gaze traveled along the line of the horizon.

He knew who he was. It had taken so long to realize it. More time than he had any desire to admit. He remembered…everything. Everything he had ever done, everything he had ever said, thought, or even thought about thinking. And that is what scared him. He remembered everything.

At the end of the summer, he remembered being Stanley Pines, 58 year old twin brother to Stanford Filbrick Pines and Great Uncle to Maso Dipper and Mabel Pines, the previous Mr. Mystery and lifelong con man.

But over the long weeks at sea with said brother, he started to remember who he was before he was Stanley Pines.

And it terrified him.

At first, he had thought it was just remnants or nightmares brought on by PTSD. Fleeting thoughts due to a fractured and shattered mind hastily put back together.

Then he had feared it was cohesive thought, conscious thought from something he dared not give name to. How cohesive was it? Was it enough to gain strength? Enough to take him over? Was Ford safe with him? He didn’t know. And he dared not tell Ford; everything he had ever wanted in life was his now, and he was so scared to lose it. So scared that he tried to ignore something so potentially dangerous as the return of….

But it wasn’t.

It was so much worse.

Because Bill Cipher hadn’t returned.

No.

He had never left.

Stan knew that now. Had realized it as the thoughts and memories became clearer and clearer.

These memories, they were from his perspective. These feelings were emotions he had remembered feeling once so, so long ago. Everything he had ever done, everything he had ever said, thought and so on. Everything ever. And that itself was insane because trying to cram a million and sixty years’ worth of memories into his now (well he supposed had been really but he just couldn’t remember) human mind was nothing short of improbable if not impossible.

No Bill Cipher was not gone.

Stanley Pines was Bill Cipher. Had been since the moment he had been born as a surprise twin to Gina Pines all those years ago. Curtesy of that fucking frilled lizard; this is not what I had in mind, thank you very much!

He just couldn’t remember until now. Truth be told, Bill Cipher wasn’t even his real name either; he’d gone by it due to the fragility of the minds of humans. But he liked it; it was his moniker. Besides, he’s not sure if he could even remember his real name now anyway. He’s not sure if he would remember everything as time went on and less important memories faded away. Things like what he ate for breakfast before school when he was twelve (probably pancakes), who his third girlfriend had been (he thinks it was a very fine upper class circle, but the name escapes him), which one of them chose to go see Star Wars that weekend (it really didn’t matter as both he and Stanford had been enamored with the film, for different reasons), and how many he had killed when he set his first dimension aflame (everyone had perished in the end, but how many he had personally killed evaded his thoughts).

But for now, he could just revel…, no that was the wrong word. He wasn’t happy with this new revelation. He was horrified, terrified, livid, and mortified all at the same time. Was there a word for that? Probably, but likely not in any human language, and certainly not in English or Spanish. But for now, all he could do was stew in this new revelation. The revelation that he was Bill Cipher and that everything he had done under that name he regretted as the being man he was now.

He regretted it. All of it. He had regretted much of it back then too, but he could look back on it all now with the wisdom of age. HA! As if a human lifetime had enough years in it to reach any semblance of wisdom compared to a millennia. Ha ha…ha. Oh Man this was trippy. And that was even with Weirdmeageddon.

God, he wanted coffee. Just off the Icelandic coast in November was too damn cold.

Stan (because he was now, damnit, no matter who he had been in the past) turned from the railing and lumbered to the door of the cabin. He passed by the wheel mounted to the right of the main cabin, patting one of the rungs affectionately.

The top cabin housed all of Ford’s computers, tech and navigational equipment. A table sat to the near right wall littered with maps, a compass, notes, and Ford’s new journal to document all of the anomalies they encountered. The stairs led down to their tiny living space; booth like seats and table on the right wall, combined pooper and shower in the near left corner and their tiny excuse for a galley that took up the left wall. The bedroom took up the bow, closet on either side and beds that met at the head (really foot, but Ford had placed both pillows at the join and he hadn’t argued). Storage underneath and in some places in the engine room, but they didn’t have all that much. Anything they didn’t have room for was shrunken down and put in a chest in Ford’s closet anyway. That flashlight was a handy little tool.

He walked the few feet to the counter and jabbed at the buttons on the coffee pot to get the thing started, grounds already present from the night before. Both Stan and Ford had learned that night prep made mornings much more bearable. He sighed. Coffee was nice. It was normal and after practically living off it for thirty years it was integral to his routine. His eyes drifted around their galley; knowing the familiar surroundings but taking them in and considering everything. The cupboards covered with Mabel’s drawings and pictures of the kids and people from Gravity Falls. The opposite wall obscured with a word map with pegs and notes of where they wanted to visit.

A picture of the kids, waddles, and what appeared to be Ford’s left hand in the corner, caught his eye. He couldn’t help but feel a gentle smile creep onto his face. He loved them. So much it hurt sometimes. Memories of the past summer drifted in and out as he considered his grand ki niece and nephew. He should really stop correcting himself. What did it matter if he considered them his grandkids in his head? Or that Soos was a better son than he deserved? He missed them. It had only been a few months, and hell, he had only spent a few months with them to begin with, but he still missed them something terrible. Even if he couldn’t always relate to them (well, he could now, but…well), he still wanted to spend time with them. Dipper and all his nerdy obsessions and Mabel….Mabel…

God.

He had almost killed her.

He had wanted to kill her. He had wanted to kill them both. They were a nuisance that shouldn’t have been so difficult to deal with. They had been in the way! They were keeping him from taking over. They kept him from F…

A cough and the creaking of a bed stilled his thoughts and returned the roiling fury back to ripples.

No. He wasn’t that person. Not anymore.

He was different now. He had experienced a different life. A life with people who loved him. His parents, Wendy, Soos, the Kids…Ford.

How was he going to break this whole thing to Ford? Was he going to? Would Ford even believe him? Would he think that Bill was back? Had taken over or merged with Stan’s psyche? Well, that wasn’t exactly wrong, though perhaps misinformed.

The worst part of all this was how was he going to deal with his feelings towards Stanford. All of his feelings, both from his time as Bill and as Stan.

And that was the kicker, wasn’t it? Ford was his! Bill had claimed him. Ford was his toy, his pet. He had an inexorable obsession with Ford. His Sixer. HIS!

The door to the bedroom opened and Stanford himself padded out in a sweater and fleece jacket with dark colored pants and Stan’s new pair of pink bunny slippers. He’d picked them up in a store in Rhode Island to replace the ones that had been left behind in the Mystery Shack. He wasn’t sure if they had simply gone missing, a new chew toy for Gompers, or if Abuelita had stolen them. He thought he caught a distinctly familiar flash of pink under the hem of her robe one morning before they left, but, eh, whatever. Why Ford had openly stolen his new pair was another question he didn’t have the energy to follow through with.

Ford hummed a greeting and patted him on the shoulder as he walked by towards the head. Stan hummed back; conversation between them varied from long, drawn out explanations to pointed looks and the occasional grunt.

It was strange to fall back into it so easily. As if they had never spent any time apart. You would think after nearly forty years apart, growing into their own, that habits would have changed. They had, actually; the weird part was how easy they both adjusted to those changes in habits for one another.

The coffee pot binged, and Stan pulled out two cups from the photograph covered cupboard. Ford preferred his with a splash of milk and three sugars, but on the water, milk was a luxury, so Stan added powdered creamer instead. Less chance of the dried stuff from going bad. He took his plain. Personally, he had gotten used to room temperature coffee, but he’d drink whatever. Taking it black just meant more sugar for Ford.

He had always thought of his brother as his. Hard to explain to someone when they’ve never experienced it themselves, but when you are learning what the world is and developing thought patterns with someone who is always there, you stop thinking of yourself as different people. But it wasn’t just that. Stanford was his twin, his best friend, but Stan had always felt like Ford was his responsibility. He wanted to protect him (he had on many occasion), he felt pride when Ford did something amazing (even if it was just saving a bug that Stan had felt so bad for almost stepping on), he was happy when Ford was happy and upset when he wasn’t. But it was always kinda weird. His clinginess to Ford had not gone unnoticed by their parents either. It’s part of the reason pops had started boxing lessons; try and split them up some.

He himself was kinda weirded out by his feelings too. As he got older, he had feared he had developed a crush. Even now, the guilt twisted in his stomach. He didn’t know what was worse, feeling regret over thinking the things he did, or eventually the regret from not regretting it. At least he knew where that shit had come from. Not that it really helped him any; Ford had fallen pretty hard for him, er Bill, at one time. It was nice to remember feeling so loved. He had really wanted to keep Ford after the portal had been built.

He set Ford’s cup on the counter near the door to the head and sat at the table with his own. He took a sip and inhaled the steam, letting it loosen the muscles around his face and enlarge his nasal passages. He never gave much stock into aroma therapy, but he did know that certain humidity levels and molecules on the nasal receptors could trigger the release of dopamine. Hence good feelings from a steaming cup of coffee.

That was another thing he was struggling with. Increased knowledge.

Stan was not an idiot by any means; yeah, he was a fucking candle next to Ford’s bonfire, but he wasn’t as stupid as many would like to believe. He had taught himself quantum physics and multidimensional paradigm theory for fucks sake, and built and programed a biomolecular scanner that was keyed into Ford’s specific dimensional genetic code. Not to mention he re-worked the entire portal to connect to other dimensions, not just the in-between space he’d been stuck in for Axolotl knows how long.

It wasn’t his fault Ford had returned to the Nightmare Realm and was hell bent on killing…him. Damn.

Point being, Stan wasn’t stupid, he was just lacking in a significant amount of knowledge on a variety of topics. Or he was not too long ago. The influx of new (or rather, old) knowledge was a bit disorienting. Answers to questions he had never thought to ask, complex calculations in a form of math that had yet to be understood by humans yet, colorful insults in several different languages (many that required multiple tongues to fully enunciate) and the exact time of Ford’s death (though that last one may have changed with recent events, but was a long ways off in either case).

The influx of information was starting to make his brain hurt.

He took another sip of coffee.

He heard the pump start and a spray of water from the sink before Ford stepped out of the head and snagged the waiting cup before coming over to sit across from him.

“You’re up early.” Ford said, taking a sip from his cup, humming faintly at the taste.

Stan shrugged, trying not to be obvious about avoiding eye contact. “Trippy dreams. Knew I shouldn’t’ave eaten that can ‘a brown meat. We’ll need to make port soon, unless you wanna eat fish.”

Ford chuckled, “I offered you half of my tofu. You said no, rather adamantly I might add.” He took another sip from his cup, “And only if I get to cook it. The kids told me about ‘Stan-cakes’.”

Stan snorted. Of course, they had mentioned that. Unfortunately for him, most things he comes into contact with become covered in hair. That was just a product of being a Pines. Or so he thought. Ford on the other hand had gotten away near scot free in that aspect. He’d caught glimpses in the mornings of Ford’s body; hair on his arms and legs, scant tuft on his chest that trailed down to his crotch. What had Mabel and her girlfriends called it? A Treasure Trail? Stan had always just referred to it as a tongue line. He had become real intimate with things like that back when he was sucking cock for a meal. Best not to let Ford in on that aspect of his life, lest he trigger any PTSD guilt attacks.

“A little hair ain’t gonna kill ya. Besides I’m still a better cook than you. Remember Ma’s birthday? You damn near burnt the kitchen down.”

“Stan, we were eight! And it would have been fine if you hadn’t distracted me! As it was, it was only marginally chard.”

“It was a frickin’ charcoal slab Ford. And you know it.” Stan jabbed a finger at Ford to emphasize his point. Ford smacked the finger away. “Don’t point at me!”

They tried not to fight. They really did, but brothers were brothers and egos were often far too fragile to handle criticism. Stan really didn’t want to fight. Not now. Not when his mind had expanded way past the limits and his emotions barely leashed.

He held up his palm in a show of peace, “Point being, we’re running outta supplies. And it wouldn’t hurt to see if we could find something for the kids for Christmas. Don’t suppose we’ll make it to Piedmont in time?”

The fight dropped from Ford’s eyes, lips curving in a sad smile. “Ahh, not this time. That old RV of yours is going to take longer than a week to get from Rhode Island to California. As it is, it would take nearly two months to get back to port anyway. We could shave about 10 days off our travel time if we could have made port in Maine…but…”

Stan groaned. “Yeah, yeah. I got banned from a lotta places. Oh, if we ever find ourselves near South America, stay the hell away from Columbia! Rico may be takin’ a dirt nap, but his goons are still not too fond of me.” He really didn’t want to get Ford wrapped up in any of that mess. It probably wasn’t a problem anymore, but ‘Andrew “8-ball” Alcatraz’ was a story he’d rather leave buried where it was.

Ford’s expression turned to melancholy; the hairs on the back of Stan’s neck rose in irritation. He didn’t need Ford’s pity. He had gotten himself out of there. Ford’s concern was nice sure, but the fact that it came now only after it didn’t matter made Stan’s teeth itched.

Surprisingly, Ford decided to keep the tone of their conversation light. “The things you get up to. Remind me to ask you about chewing your way out of a trunk. That always got me thinking while I was traveling.” He lifted his cup to hide his face before continuing. “You didn’t look too bad with the mullet. You should grow it out.”

Stan sniggered. “Yeah, I always was the better lookin’ twin.” He paused a beat. “But you are rockin’ the grey hair.”

“Says the man whose wardrobe consists of a borrowed suit, and an endless rainbow of Hawaiian shirts.”

They both laughed as they finished their coffee. It was a good morning.

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They had decided, with much prompting from Stan, to make the trip to Reykjavik. There were a number of small fishing villages along the coast, but if they wanted to mail anything or get any equipment repaired (or buy anything but fish), then Reykjavik was it. They pulled into the harbor and were directed over to the smaller end of the dock meant for local fishing trawlers. The harbor man frowned at their documentation; clearly confused as to how their tiny cruiser had made it all the way from America without a sail.

That was Ford’s most ingenious alteration to the Stan O’War II. A tiny nuclear reactor twice the size of an easy chair powered their main engines. He had worked on the plans with McGucket for a few weeks before they left Gravity Falls, leaving Stan with most of the packing and cleaning. Not having a sail meant less concern over interference with the antenna anyway. Stan wasn’t gonna lie, having internet and being able to skype with the kids was well worth the extra effort stabilizing the damn thing in a storm.

Their passports were stamped granting them a week visa. They’d agreed to split the list, Stan would get supplies and Ford would acquire the necessary parts to maintain the ship and Stan’s beat-up RV. They had the RV with them, the El Diablo too. Stan kept them mounted in plexiglass case on the bedside table. They had tinkered with the RV’s engine with a set of tweezers, but the head gasket was shot. The damn thing had overheated on the way to Rhode Island and they had to make the last leg of the trip in the El Diablo.

Ford was a wiz with engines, so why not let him be the one to maintain everything?

Stan headed towards downtown and the market. He spoke maybe two words in Gaelic, but he could point and mime numbers as well as any chimp. Actually, he could speak Gaelic now, but that was a fact he was trying to forget. It was surprisingly easy to let the chatter of the market goers roll into a nonsensical dull roar. It was comforting, reminding him of the ever-present hum in the ‘Nightmare Dimension’. That wasn’t really what it was called, but it suited just as well as any name. He hated that place, but it had been home for so long he had gotten used to it. Familiarity breeds…well, contempt, but still it was familiar anyway. As he paid for a pallet of canned goods he gave the stall owner the name of their ship and where it was docked with a few extra bills to cover any delivery fee. It helped that Ford had submitted his own patents and had netted a tidy sum to keep them going a while.

Stan wandered between the stalls; spices, shit tons of fish and shellfish (maybe crab would be good tonight?), barrels and more barrels of produce and wine (the people of Iceland liked their apples). He bought an overflow barrel of mixed vegetables that a local farmer hadn’t been able to sell to any of the other ships and gave him directions to the Stan O’War. He kept it going, buying things here and there, keeping in mind Ford’s likes and dislikes, and having it all taken to the dock. Blessed coffee, tea, salt, sugar, yeast and flour, a dozen cans of evaporated milk, some more bleach and a new scrapper (those barnacles were a bitch).

Maybe I should get some steaks instead, we won’t be able to get real meat for a while, so why not enjoy it. He had just accepted the wrapped steaks when some other shopper pushed his way into Stan’s space to yell at the stall owner. Stan stepped back and glared. The guy had bulging eyes and tiny ears. Think he’d look better with those switched. He grinned with childlike glee. His arms coming out the sides of his neck, and hands from his lip like a freakish mustache. Stan could feel a slight crackle along his skin, as if he had built up static. But he was disassociated from feeling, his mind intent on deciding if he wanted a new toy. I could pull out his intestines and play jump rope or tie a pretty little noo…

Stan had taken a step forwards, hand raised and fingers ready to snap to rend the man’s skin apart.

He…what the hell!? He wasn’t like that! NO!

Stan felt faint. He clutched the bag of goods and bolted into the masses of the market.

#stancest #Whole Again #gravity falls #stanley pines #Stanford pines #bill cipher #sea grunks #stanowar #stanisbill #stan-o-war

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bibbykins · 7 years

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A Convoluted Code

A/N: This is hours late, but here it is!

Pairing: College au! TA! Taehyung (based off of 707 of Mystic Messenger

Genre: Fluff (Soon), Comedy

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Technological Special Agent, Kim Taehyung, never made mistakes... until he did, and that led him to you, a mistake he couldn’t live down

It started out as just another petty job so that he could buy another computer. As if the multiple screens that surrounded him in his office plus the five laptops lying around weren’t enough for him. However, he was the best, and he required the best equipment.

The job was simple enough, hack into this guy’s phone and see if he’s cheating, but even the best make tiny mistakes.

Usually all he needed to hack into a person’s phone, laptop, and any other accounts was just a phone number, this was thanks to how connected everyone’s accounts were.

Then Taehyung could sift through what he wanted to, report back, get the money, and call it day. The customers he worked with were usually fairly prestigious, so he figured that they would be intelligent enough to write down a stupid number correctly.

And with that foolish assumption concerning the snooty, the best had made a mistake.

It was somewhere between his third caffeinated soda and second bag of chips he realized he hadn’t hacked into Seung Chanwoo’s laptop, it was yours. However, he realized this only after hacking into your laptop camera, it was then the texts he had just read from you and a Soha had finally made sense.

You: Oh btw, I can’t close it anymore

Soha: What? Why not?

You: It’ll snap right in half, and I need it until I can find the money to get a new one… or a sugar daddy that’s around my age, whichever comes first tbh

Soha: Yeah right, have fun writing your little heart out

Maybe a man and his mistress wouldn’t be talking about getting sugar daddies.

This clicked when he was met with you sleeping on your bed, only wearing a tshirt and underwear, he immediately diverted his eyes. You were beautiful, and he wasn’t prepared for that. He was now looking at your wall with several rewards on it and your high school diploma on your wall reading Y/N L/N. With crimson cheeks, he exited out of your laptop’s view from your desk and decided to do research on you, because your number was off by only one digit, and he was thorough in his investigations, and he could swear your name was familiar.

After just a few hours, he knew just about everything about your past and current job. You went to a high school he’s never come in contact with, got decent grades, and you only joined journalism-related extracurriculars, a real recluse. Currently, you worked from home serving as a third-party editor for several magazines and newspapers both online and on paper, but nevertheless keeping up with reclusivity.

It was on his fourth bag of chips and seventh caffeinated drink he realized he was nearly late for his cover job.

Taehyung’s line of work was high-profile and unbeknownst to many of his friends, he often took care of government work. Plain and simple, he was special agent Kim Taehyung, basically a spy. With such a job, the government had suggested he take a cover job to keep him in plain sight, relieving suspicions other hackers may have, since hiding is the easiest way to be found in his world.

He chose to be a paid virtual Teaching Assistant at an average college for a variety of classes from Computer Science 101 to Economics 305, he just did all the electronic grading as instructed by professors he had more credentials than. Only time to time would he have to physically be present when a student requested tutoring and the professor wasn’t there or just didn’t feel like it, or the professor was out sick and he had to lecture.

Today, he had to lecture for Computer Science 101, which he dreaded the most. The students’ work was like grading kindergarteners on coding, just ridiculous. The class only had one lecture a week, but teaching beginner’s computer science is about as mind-numbing as reciting the ABC’s for two hours, especially since most of the students only took the class to avoid a proper math class.

He hated this class.

You hated this class.

Tech-savy was nowhere on your resume. Electronically proficient, maybe, but the 0s and 1s turned your brain to mush, it made an ironic sum of zero sense, but you would crumble in Calculus, so this was the only sensible choice you had. You almost regretted it. You didn’t know a soul in the class, nor wanted to, not to mention your laptop was five years old and beginning to quite literally come off its hinges, but luckily your professor was a slightly creepy yet understanding middle aged man who didn’t make you close it during a written test,like one you had today.

You weren’t worried until you walked in to see the fine piece of man that was Kim Taehyung, dreamy TA, and most likely unbeknownst to him, distractingly hot neighbor in your nice apartment complex. He was beautiful, made his own money, and a lot considering of the quality of the apartment building you only reside in due to the connections you have with very wealthy editors who offer discounts. Nevertheless Taehyung was amazing, smart, sort of kind, and completely ignorant to your presence. Not that you could blame him, you never really left your apartment safe for class or if Soha forces you to, and even in class you don’t make a peep and make average grades, so no real reason to cross paths.

But your worry didn’t come from the adonis’s looks, it came from the fact you had to formulate a sentence to him when he tried to make you close your janky laptop.

Okay, just let him know before class starts. Go to the desk and- or just keep walking like an idiot and wait to be called out- or spend a solid minute turning forward and backward repeatedly, that works too, idiot.

Finally,you mustered up the courage to utter a sentence to him, “Uh, my laptop won’t close,” You mumbled, cursing yourself that you didn’t offer any explanation. Taehyung typed away on his own laptop, not looking at you when he responded.

“Just pull the top screen down, it’s simple,” His response was snarky at best and you flinched.

Your face scrunched in annoyance, “No, it’ll snap in half if I do.” Your voice had gotten smaller.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, not caring to talk to any of these students longer than required, “Fine just put something over it and make sure it’s on sleep mode.” He said, never looking up at you. You nodded meekly and went to your seat in the very back of the lecture hall.

After a few minutes of everyone making sure their laptops aren’t accessible, Taehyung skipped roll call as he counted and everyone was here, so he administered the test to each student, and when he got to you, he was met with a terrifying view as a pseudo official.

You were in the middle of taking off your sweater to reveal only a black tanktop that brought attention to your cleavage, “What on Earth are you doing?” Taehyung deadpanned, making you jump, since you didn’t see him near you.

With heated cheeks, you quickly stripped off your sweater and put it on your laptop and as you placed it there you spoke, “Sorry, I got a bit trapped in there,” You explained as he just put a test in front of you. It was then you made eye contact and his whole word stopped, “Thank you,” You smiled as he walked off.

It was official, Kim Taehyung had made a mistake. What kind of hacker doesn’t check what university she goes to? Or what classes she’s taking? No wonder her name seened familiar. As if he hadn’t done so enough, he stared at her, wondering how it is he never seen her here before. He was usually very good at recognizing faces and being observant, but then you come out of the blue. Goodness, he feels creepy, but there’s something suspicious about you. Maybe it’s his pride trying to avoid the fact that he made a mistake, or maybe you are a fellow hacker trying to play him.

And with these grades, his pride diminishes. He started down at your test probably the same way you had. Your grade wasn’t horrible, but the mistakes you had made was horrendous. Okay, so maybe he was just losing his pride, but he couldn’t stop looking at you through your laptop camera.

You had been getting your makeup done by Soha, who was in beauty school and needed a test face, plus she thought you needed a confidence boost as you had been viciously dumped last week, leaving you even more of a hermit, “We should go out or something, sucks I have a date,” Soha pouted, “Hey maybe he can bring a friend for you?”

You shook your head, “I don’t need another boyfriend,” You stated as Taehyung researched your past one. He was average looking, but he seemed to have bounced back quickly after six months of you two being together, “I need a sugar daddy,” Soha chuckled at your words, “I do, this laptop is killing me-”

“I should be killing him,” Soha seethed, “Sex in the practice rooms are you kidding-”

“Soha, it’s okay,” You chided and scrolled through your phone to see ankther voicemail from an unfamiliarly familiar number, “That angry voicemail lady is still there” You shrugged, referring to the awkward calls and text you had been getting for a few weeks by some crazy women. You didn’t bother answering to correct her since you and Soha had agreed she’s probably just lonely and wants to yell, since Soha’s troubled mom would do that too in the past, “Anyway, there’s better guys around the corner.”

“Or next door,” She giggled and it was then Taehyung realized he hadn’t looked up where you lived.

Your cheeks heated up, “Shut up, like he knows I exist.”

“If I lived next to sexy Kim Taehyung, I’d let him know I did,” Soha stated dramatically at the same time Taehyung figured out where you lived, making him freeze.

Your eyes widened, “Shut up! The walls might not be as thick as-”

“He probably is?” Soha smirked and Taehyung wore a smug smile while your cheeks heated and your hands flew to your ears.

“Lalalala, I can’t hear sin, sorry,” You retorted as Soha rolled her eyes, continuing with your makeup.

“Don’t you have him as the TA in your computer science class? Does he give you the eyes?” Soha spoke dreamily as you snorted while her brush made contact with your eyebrows.

“And my English Lit class, but he probably doesn’t even know we’re neighbors. I’m pretty sure today was the day he learned my name just because I got stuck in my sweater like an idiot.” Taehyung chuckled slightly at the thought, “Anyway, any word from your sugar daddy- sorry boyfriend?”

“Stop being mean,” Soha huffed.

She was with a married shit stain of a man whose wife was most definitely catching on.

“I just think you deserve better than being a mistress,” You remarked.

Soha was a notorious party girl with an expensive appetite, so rarely was she ever in a progressive relationship in the years you’ve known her.

“Chanwoo promised he was leaving his wife soon,” Soha pouted and Taehyung perked up.

“Giving his wife the wrong number like a child is not leaving her, besides what did he even give her as his number?” You asked and Taehyung watched as Soha’s face went guilty.

“Well, he gave her one that’s just one number off,” Soha stopped putting makeup on you and looked for another product awkwardly.

“That’s super irresponsible. Shouldn’t it be someone you know that won’t bother correcting…” You trailed off as it clicked and you let out a humorless laugh, “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

This wasn’t the first time Soha roped you into her affairs, and you were sick of it.

Soha bit her lip as she packed up, knowing what was to come, “He asked me if I knew anyone that was-”

“Stupid enough to let you convince them not to correct their poor wife?!” You raised your voice, “God, Soha you heard that women she isn’t crazy, she’s suffering!”

“You don’t get it-”

You didn’t want to hear it. Lying like this was something you hated most. If someone is not happy, they should leave, it’s very simple.

—- one week ago

You didn’t want to work on your piano. You wanted to go home and sleep, but this class was required and it beat history work for the time being. The practice rooms were rather informal, but nevertheless you booked one anyway. The music building was basically vacant, which made the not-so soundproof practice rooms less of a nuisance.

Except the music building was exceptionally rowdy upon entering the practice hall. You had known the practice rooms were a popular place to hook up. This was due to the assumption they were sound proof, but most couples weren’t so stupid to be this loud.

You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore it for the time being, thankful you brought your headphones and disinfectant wipes. All the other practice rooms were filled with people actually practicing, so you had no choice but to break up the most-likely unintentional baby making session, you considered it as saving a couple’s future for the time being.

With that mindset, you swung the door open to be faced with your semi-serious boyfriend and a semi-bitchy girl connected in a way you and him had never been.

“Oh, awesome,” They froze immediately when they heard you let out a humorless laugh, “You know these things aren’t actually soundproof, right?”

Your, now ex’s, eyes went wide, “Y-Y/n, I can-”

“Save it.” You seethed, slamming the door behind you as he struggled to pull his pants up to chase after you.

He was successful in his attempt as he grabbed your arm, “Y/n, stop running!” He shouted.

“Stop trying!” You shouted back, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “You…”

“Don’t you dare make me out to be the bad guy!” He snapped, “I wasn’t happy, you didn’t make me happy-”

“Then say it, dumbshit! Dump me! Don’t lie like this-”

“I didn’t want to face your tears or hurt you-”

You scoffed, “You think I’m crying because I loved you so much?” His face dropped, “I’m crying because I feel like a fucking idiot wasting all this time on the world’s shittiest liar!”

—-

You scrunched your eyebrows as Taehyung took note of what makes you tick, “You’re disgusting, he’s disgusting, and before I say something that I just might regret you should leave, because I hate being sucked up into your mistress drama shit,” You seethed, “I love you, Soha, but I hate that you don’t respect yourself or me enough to not do this, let yourself out.” You took a deep breath as you turned around to go to the bathroom to calm down.

Soha looked down, sighing as she walked away. Taehyung concluded fights concerning the man he was supposed to be tracking happened quite a bit. With this and the texts he had gotten from the man’s real phone, he could wrap this up and never spy on you again.

When the door closed, you entered your bedroom again and then made a move that made him eat his words, you angrily slammed your laptop closed.

Taehyung’s visual of you went black and the room was silent for a while until he heard a resounding, “FUCK!” Which resonated through his walls, paired with a desperate, “No, no, no, no, not now!”

You panicked as your laptop now seemed to be a tablet and a keyboard, both of which could not be used separately. You had work to do, which all required a laptop. It was then you determined today was shit. You’re basically friendless for the time being, and now you cut off all shots of virtual friends and good grades and work and money and to top it off, you had started crying.

Five minutes into your ugly cry, you decided you had one option, and that was to go next door to the computer genius himself and beg to have him fix it.

Taehyung noticed you were oddly silent for quite a bit, and he shrugged it off until he heard a knock on his door. He opened it only to see a red, puffy-eyed you standing in his door way, “Hi, I’m Y/n, your neighbor, may I ask a question?” You sniffled and he nodded cautiously, “Hackers can fix computers too, right?”

Taehyung’s heart nearly stopped at your words. How in the hell could you have known he was a hacker?

“Who said I’m a hacker?” He leaned against the door, “I’m a TA.”

You tilted your head, “Yeah, but you’re also special agent Kim Tae-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He had grabbed you by your collar into his apartment, pushing you against the door and using his hand to support him on the shit door.

“What leads you to those assumptions?” He asked trying to keep his cover.

“The walls are paper thin and all your calls are by speaker dumbass- wait why am I echoing?” You questioned and Taehyung realized your microphone still worked and your feed was still up.

“No you’re not,” He quickly replied.

You looked to his many screens, which he then put his arm on the other side to block the view, “Yes I am!” You struggled to see past his arm.

“No, you’re hysterical,” Taehyung quipped with a nervous chuckle.

“No, I’m echoing, why am I-” You caught sight of the window titled Y/n’s feed, “OH MY GOODNESS, EW!” You groaned.

Taehyung’s sense of composure was long gone, “No, let me-”

“WHAT KIND OF AGENT USES HIS SKILLS TO SPY ON-”

Taehyung clasped his hand over your mouth, “Seung Chanwoo’s wife hired me and gave me what evidently wasn’t his number to hack, okay?” You were still mumbling a question through his palm, “I kept tabs of you just in case you were connected to him in any way, I didn’t even know who you were until today, understand?” You stopped struggling and nodded.

Taehyung sighed in relief, letting his hand drop from your mouth, “You know what? I don’t care. Sure, whatever, I digress,” You held up your hands, “Can you fix this piece of junk or not?”

“Not for free,” Your eyes widened at his reply.

“You watched me, without my consent, and now you’re going to charge me to do a simple fix?” You scoffed, “I suddenly remember why I don’t do one-night stands, a shit time with a shit payout.”

“Sorry, I need a new laptop myself,” Taehyung shrugged, “And I spied for business, okay?”

“You have three laptops on your couch, not to mention the plethora of monitors!” You seethed, gesturing around the room, “One of the laptops haven’t even been opened!”

“I’m very busy,” Taehyung crossed his arms, suddenly understanding why you don’t have many companions.

“You know what? Fine, I’ll offer free hand jobs outside the IT building,” You huffed, “Maybe a blow-job will get me a new laptop?” You pouted as your laptop full came off its hinges and the monitor fell to the ground, “Looks like I’m putting this virgin mouth to work tonight then,” You groaned as Taehyung awkwardly shuffled to help you, but you smacked his hand away, “Just get the door for me,” He nodded, opening the door wide open as he stood next to it.

Now, you don’t know why you did what you did next, but you couldn’t turn back. Usually, you would never do this you were rather nervous around people of Taehyung’s caliber, but you were having a shit day and a bad life, so to have someone like Taehyung spy on you and act like such a prick about it, made you lose all sensibility.

You dropped your laptop, grabbed the box with his new one, and ran.

Before he could even register what you had done, you had shut your door. You locked it as soon as Taehyung touched the handle, and he banged on your door, “Y/n! What the hell?!”

“Shh! You’ll disturb the whole floor!” You responded.

“We’re the top floor, it’s just our places up here!” Taehyung yelled, pounding on your door again.

“Hey, Taehyung!” You hollered back, clutching the box to your chest.

“What?”

“Shut up!”

“Give me the laptop back!” He yelled.

“Fix mine!” You responded.

Taehyung was taken aback, “Why would I? You can’t stay in there forever!”

You laughed, “I’m a girl who is pitied by my breakup, so I have class notes taken care of, I work from home, and I just got groceries, so try me!”

Taehyung let out a growl of frustration as he slammed on your door one last time, “Fine! I’ll have it done it two days!”

#bts series #bts #bts fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #mystic messenger au #seven au #707 #taehyung fluff #bts au

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lifesinterest · 7 years

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How to Start a Journal for Cheapos

I’ve always wanted to write this little (life changing) tip.

I’ve been looking at journals/bullet journals/planners on tumblr, instagram and pinterest for quite a while because they’re so aesthetically pleasing! I follow like 20+ blogs because they are sooo nice to look at. The color schemes, the handwriting, the stickers, the washi tape, their clean white backgrounds - it makes everyone so jealous. BUT AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT!

Respect to those who make their journals/notes and their edits so pretty because they’re honestly eye candy. But their community is so small, you know? Not everyone can post pretty pics of their notes and actually have time for other important stuff (like actually study and not take 50 pics and spend 10+ minutes on each pic to edit, in addition to liking everything from other studyblrs).

That’s why I’m gonna give you some life hacks(?) for those who want to start a journal that's aesthetically pleasing without having to empty your wallet to buy the exact same materials they use. Please note, this is more of a Canadian hack because the US dollar is killing us.

The Book

The most important part of this hack is the book. Many people use the Happy Planner, Moleskine, Leuchtturm1917 (I had to Google the spelling), or any journal that’s dotted/grid. That’s too expensive for me ($20-30+) and other dotted journals are like…$15 CAD for 60 pages. Where’s the bargain there? I mean, sure dotted journals are cool but do you really need the dotted journal? I went down that route at first so I printed out my own dotted journal using my computer and printer. At first I was pretty excited, but when I started to write across the page, I just felt like the dots were confining me to where and how big I could write. I placed my dots so that it matched the measurements of any regular dotted notebook (so I could feel cool) but it didn’t work out like I wanted to. Keep in mind that there are days where my handwriting is excellent and others times where it just looks like my younger brother decided to scribble in it. You need small handwriting and if you write outside the dotted box, your inner perfectionist comes out and you just feel like your whole life is ruined because you couldn’t keep yourself inside the line dot.

I’ve made my own notebooks (which I still use) and bought a couple others to find which works for me. I find that a blank pages work best. I have two DIY notebooks and the one without the any lines/dots is basically at the end of its use. I can sketch, write notes - basically anything and it doesn’t look bad. The other one on the other hand, I have to keep myself inside the box and it just drives me crazy when one stroke goes over the line. I also bought a Muji 2017 planner at the end of December. It was ~$12 + tax and it was on sale. It was a smart buy for a simple weekly planner but you know what would be a smarter buy? The same planner layout from Dollarama for $4+tax. Why did I buy something from Muji you ask? Because the pens are cheapish and good quality and there was a sale on planners (duh). I think Muji stores have sales at the end of the year or around a large holiday where notebooks are on sale. I haven’t bought one so I can’t say for sure about the quality but I know for sure the quantity does not match with the expensive price (for Canadians). The planner I bought is not recycled paper and is of good quality.

(http://empfire.info/my-favourite-planner-from-muji/)

My other notebook is one I just bought and I’m in love. Guess where I bought it from? Dollarama! For $3.50 + tax. I’ve been eyeing it for a month and when I tried to look for it at a different Dollarama, it wasn’t there! I freaked out so I went back where I first saw it and there was only one left (phew)! It’s labeled as a sketchbook but I originally planned for it to be a journal. Also, if you do decide to buy a blank journal, I recommend sketchbooks because they come in different color, thickness and texture of paper; it all depends on what you want.

This is what it looks like. And obviously, I didn’t edit it because AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT (with my dusty ass table). I don’t know if the paper is recycled or not because it doesn’t say but it sure is recyclable! There’s no coils or anything, just a piece of fabric and a wad of glue that basically holds everything together. The cover is chipboard. And I love it! It’s got that recyclable paper look so I can be cool and say I’m saving the world. The paper quality is pretty thick. I tested the paper with a Sharpie and it didn’t bleed through though you could see it from the other side. I’m not too sure it will hold a watercolor portrait but it does feel like it won’t bleed through if you use it sparsely. So for those in Canada, I highly recommend this book as something on your To Buy list - good quality and quantity for a cheap price.

Writing Utensils

The second most important must have for a journal because what’s the point of a notebook if you can’t write in it? There are many out there that your favorite studyblrs use: Mildliners, Muji pens, Staedler Fineliners, Microns, etc… But hey, guess what? You don’t need any of those! Those are all just over hyped. You can totally go old school and use Crayola!. I recently bought a pack of 25 Crayola Supertips for $3 + tax. And that my friends, is a steal. They usually retail for ~$7. I once saw a pack of 50 for $3 in a flyer which is twice the deal. And honestly, with Mildliners, I don’t understand what the hype is all about except for the fact that everyone uses them…because everyone else uses them (y’know what I’m sayin’?). It’s basically a double ended marker retailing for $7-8 for a pack of 5. Where’s the bargain? As for Muji pens…I have no complaints. I’m lucky enough to discover it and live close to a Muji store. Their gel pens are the only ones that don’t stop writing in the middle of a word. Don’t you hate that? I only go for the dark blue color though because I feel like regular ballpoint pens do such an amazing job at…you know…writing! I go to college, and as all you college students know, there are free pens everywhere and some of them are really good with pigment and the smooth flow. ATM, I’m using a Paper Mate pen I got from Tylenol (I swear). The only complaint I have for Muji Pens is that it smudges real easily. I currently use a dark blue color in 0.7 if you were wondering. I feel like that smaller the size of the pen is, the more unstable my hand writing is. I write quite big.

I also see the Pilot erasable highlighter around in pastel. I was tricked into buying these suckers and honestly…I may or may not regret it. I regret it because they don’t function very well. I looked into reviews and everything and they all say they’re amazing with a 5 star rating but I would say so otherwise. I bought it for the functionality of it during school instead of just journal use. I highlight a sentence I wrote but then I go a bit too far and when I do this cool pen twirl thing to use the other end to erase it…the ink smudges. It freaking smudges and guess what? The ink is NOT erasable. The highlighter basically erases its pigment but leaves a nasty ink smudge on my paper. Why…did nobody talk about this? I’m pretty darn sure it’s not only me. The only reason I bought it was because I don’t like the neon colors (I also bought it because it looked cute). This highlighter didn’t work very well (it died on me the first month) so I started looking at other highlighters and found something called a gel highlighter usually sold and on sale by Sharpie. When I did some research though, I found that it had the exact same look as a pencil crayon or even a crayon. It was just a neon color. So, I pulled out my 64 pack of Crayola crayons I didn’t use since grade 5 and used it to highlight my notes and can I tell you how pretty it looks? Since your paper have different grains, the crayon looks different when drawn on the paper (how much white space is covered). So my recommendations are Crayola Supertips and crayons. I don’t have a recommendation for fineliners but there are many alternatives that do not cost $7-10.

Stickers and Washi Tape Decoration

Ohh the glory. Don’t they look so nice when they’re color coordinated? Well, honestly though, AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT!!!! How do you find the time in your schedule to sit down for an hour (or more?) and plan your week with stickers and washi tape? And I’ve seen videos of planners who “switch” to the bullet journal because they don’t have time to plan their life with stickers and washi tape anymore. I mean, for sure it’s nice to look at but do you really want to spend your time doing it? For you creative people out there, could you plan your week in one day and not touch your stickers again for the entire week? I don’t think so. I know I would be rearranging stickers, and adding additional ones throughout the week because my hands won’t sit still. Plus, the nice stickers are expensive (especially from Etsy). Sorry but I don’t have any sticker alternatives. If I did, I wouldn’t share them because I wouldn’t even use it anyway. I’m a sticker hoarder so there is no way I’m using any stickers in my books. As for washi tape, you can’t go wrong especially if you buy it on ebay. The only thing that can go wrong is being a washi tape hoarder. Some have drawers and drawers of washi tape and I’m like…really, girl? Really? I only have 2 tubes from Michaels because it was BOGO free and I feel that it’s plenty. So, as for decoration, I recommend you skip the stickers and just use the washi tape. The tape can go a long way and it has multiple creative uses.

The Cheapest Alternative

Almost everyone has a phone or tablet. Well, guess what? There are a bunch of free apps that allow you to write down journal entries. If you just want to look at a bunch studyblrs, studygrams and Pinterest posts like me, just write your entry on your phone before you decide whether or not you’ll actually be able to continuously write in your journal. Again, this is a beginner’s guide to journaling, planning, etc. So, there is no need to go expensive right away - you may never know if you like it or not and if you’ve found your own writing style. Just buy a cheap notebook first before heading out to buy a $30 notebook from Moleskine. You have all the time in the world, so be patient and find out what works for you!

#studyblr #journals #bullet journal #cheap monday #guide for cheapos #stationary review #journaling for beginners #mypost

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vulvy-tales-blog · 7 years

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Regret, a feeling more powerful than any other. Everyone has regrets, wishing they'd done something different. It's natural, we fear negative reactions and wish to undo them when we can. I've never felt that way, everything I'd done, good and bad, helped craft who I am. It all had a purpose, a reason for being. The bad made the good feel even better, making it feel earned. There was nothing I'd of ever changed.

It still amazes me how much I've been through in such a short period of time. I've lived a life filled with excitement, more than some have in their entire life time. How many people can say they got to be a real life hero, something right out of a novel? I still remember my first mission, dad was so nervous about me and for good reason. I was tiny back then, only fourteen or fifteen, way too young to be doing vigilante work. It didn't help that I had no idea what I was doing either. Only training I had was what I'd read in books, that stuff didn't always work in reality, dramatic effect and all that.

And let me tell you, I got knocked around quite a bit! There was this one time we fought this huge norn right? Well me, being the bright bulb I always was, tried to jump on his back, got a few stabs in before he flung me off. I swear I was hurtling towards this bench faster than you can say cheesewhiz sandwich. I don't recommend that by the way, it's not nearly as good as it sounds, just go with the cheezewhiz straight into the mouth.

Ok so the norn throws me and I go clean through the wood, landing limp on the ground. I thought for sure I was dead, don't even remember a week after that. Do remember the broken bones though, cogs, that recovery was brutal, but I was still alive. That's one thing I want you to remember. Always look at the simple things. There's going to be a lot of bad thrown your way, more than you can imagine. It's all superfluous so long as your alive, have a roof over your head and people to share your life with. Don't let one bad day sink your entire outlook on life.

Don't be afraid to have big goals, I always did, cogs did I. For the longest time, even before I met my parents, I wanted to be the hero to those who couldn't protect themselves. I wanted to roam the land, helping others as much as I can. I managed to do that, with just a few bumps in the road! Once I got older I ended up joining the Priory, you'll learn more about them when your older, promise! So I joined them wanting to try something new.

It was such a good decision, I met one of my best friends ever there. He'll be your uncle, I'll make sure of that. When you first meet him you may think him a bit heartless, gruff even for a charr. He's always like that at first. You see he, like me, didn't have the of best starts to his life. As a charr you need to grow that thick hide or you'll never survive. Just make sure you give him a chance. When you earn this trust, you'll have his undying loyalty. He's as much of a sibling to me as you are, I hope you both connect as well as we did.

Cogs, I'm getting all misty and I haven't even gotten to our parents yet. They were something else. I had no one before I met them. My birth givers just didn't want me I guess, isn't surprising since I'm not like most asura, never really had that focused genius mind. I'm telling you this because they didn't care, they didn't care about any of that. All they saw was some kid that needed their help, that's the type of people they were.

It didn't come without a stigma either, some turned their noses up or arched their eyebrows at two humans adopting an asura, but I never saw it like that. They didn't adopt me, they were always my parents, we just hadn't found each other yet. Looks never bothered them either, always introducing me as their daughter, no matter what.

You'd of loved dad's sense of humor, was such a goofball, knowing when to have fun and when to be serious. Then there's mom who took no crud from anyone. If she thought you were wrong she'd tell you and then maybe even punch you right in the face for good measure. Gods, some of the fights we had, it's amazing we never got physical with one another. You should of seen how proud they both were when you were born, we were all so happy.

I'm sorry, I'm starting to ramble, let me get out a few more nuggets of advice before I go. Don't let others tell you how to act or who you should be. Always be you, no matter what that is. Conforming just makes you like everyone else, be the person who stands out by being unique. Always know who your true friends are and keep them close. They are apart of your family, just as much as your siblings are.

Remember way back at the start of this letter I said I had no regrets? Well I have one, I wish things had been different, that we could of lived together as one big happy family. Was looking forward to trying to look all intimidating towards all the little dates you brought home despite being like half their size! Some things just aren't meant to be though, harsh lesson of the world that I wish I didn't have to tell you. Don't let it discourage you though! You can accomplish almost anything so long as you work hard enough at it.

That's it for sisterly advice, love you both so much.

Your sister, V

I took a deep breath, closing my leather bound journal, hands lingering over the cover. I'd gotten it only two years ago, on my birthday. Never thought I'd ever write in it because who the cog kept journals? Yet somehow I'd managed to nearly fill it's pages. There was something so therapeutic about writing your thoughts down, expressing them to something. Helped give them a new sense of meaning.

“Lot of memories here.” My head raised, looking around the darkened kitchen. “I should say goodbye before I go.”

Hands slid from the book, nails scratching across the cover. I hopped down from my chair, making my way up the stairs, not at all being bothered by the darkness. Between knowing the home and my natural tendency to see well at night, the house may as well be lit up by a beacon. Case and point, I knew where the book to trigger my hidden bedroom door was located without even needing to look.

The bookcase slid open slowly, revealing not only my bed, an area that hadn't been used in months, but that of Sammy and my new baby sister as well. It was truly sad that I didn't even know their name, proof this family was crumbling long before their deaths. That was only the nail in the coffin as they say. I suppose I was the saw dust beneath the board, used and forgotten.

Both my siblings were asleep, unnamed baby snug beneath a blanket and Sammy taking after me, sprawled out in the middle of the bed with limbs flailed out everywhere. They both looked so peaceful. How long had they been under the care of a nanny? I couldn't even remember the last time I saw any of them. I doubted Sammy even remembered who I was by this point. My hand brushed past the grip of my pistol. It was better that way.

They'd be relieved of any burden's, too young to have made an emotional connection, able to be free of all the enemies this families made. They would be able to live their own lives, putting all of this behind them. It seemed fitting to have the Kuryakin name vanish in a puff of smoke rather than in a grand style, was never who we were.

With one final heavy breath inward I headed toward the door. Barely crossing the threshold before a voice yelled out. “Sissy!”

Sammy had already jumped from his bed, rushing over towards me. Before I could so much as blink he'd scooped me up into a bear hug, standing nearly as tall as me despite being almost 16 years younger. Arms tightened around my back as he continued to yell, oblivious to the fact a baby was in the room. “Is sissy leaving again?!”

Question was so simple yet difficult to answer. I couldn't exactly be honest yet at the same time I couldn't have my lasting image to my brother be a lie. How then did I even approach this? It seemed like there was no right way, everything leading to some consequence my brother didn't deserve to be burdened with.

“Lower your voice, your going to wake your sister up.” I said, stalling for more time.

“Oh... sawry.” He lowered me to the ground, voice following suit. “I forgets sometimes.”

“It's ok, I can be the same way. How have things been here while I've been gone?” I asked, happily steering the conversation away from his question.

“Booooooring, nan no let us have fun. We should goes out like before!” He started to get excited again, clamping his hands over his mouth quickly.

Action made me giggle, Sammy reminding me and more of myself when I was his age, cogs, may as well be how I was last year. “Like when we went to the adventure box? You know how much trouble I got in for that? Mom...” I couldn't stop myself from mentioning her, body instinctively moving forward to reengage the hug.

“You ok, sissy?” He gladly returned the action, wrapping his arms around me once again.

Eyes pressed closed, tears trying to fight their way past, filling my eyes up like a puddle. I needed to put on a brave face for him, but how could I? Everything wasn't going to be ok. No one had even told him his mother was gone, for good and here I was trying to do the same. I couldn't just abandon him as she had. I had to be better than that.

“Everything is going to be fine, I promise.” Pulling back I kissed him on the forehead, waterworks fully open, droplets of water streaking down both cheeks. “You aren't going to have to worry about Nan anymore, ok? Maybe if your good, we can take some trips like before to.”

I pressed my fingers to my lips immediately, helping halt my brother's happy squeal. “Go get some sleep, we'll talk again in the morning.”

He nodded, happily skipping back into bed. This was going to be hard, but it felt right. Someone had to be there for them, willing to shoulder than load rather than taking the easy way out. I couldn't have them live through what I did, broken family was better than none at all. Arrangements were going to need to be made on multiple fronts, but I was going to make this work, for them.

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mollymauk-teafleak · 7 years

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Stay Alive

I wrote some of mine and @minky-for-short‘s Hamliza Supernatural AU, the one she’s been drawing all of the utterly amazing art for! So I tried to come up with some words to go along with them, hope you all enjoy!

“Be careful,” Alex murmured.

“You too,” Eliza answered firmly.

“Stay alive.”

“You too.”

“I love you.”

That was how they always began. No matter what Alex and Eliza were facing down, no matter what nightmares were waiting for them in the shadows, these gentle words were how they started each job. His forehead resting against hers, her hand holding the back of his head, a moment of quiet and unity before they dived in. It was their ritual, their little promise to each other.

Not that Alex didn’t trust his girlfriend, his Eliza. After so many years hunting together he had countless proof of how smart and strong and fast she was. She’d pulled them out of so much trouble on so many jobs, saving Alex’s own skin more times than he deserved. But that didn’t stop him worrying about her so much that he felt his heartbeat in his throat as he watched her snap the safety off her trusted handgun and head out first, towards the front door of the abandoned factory.

Alex had never feared death when he was alone, he’d run into everything headlong and if it was the end of him then so be it. At least he’d go down swinging, at least his death might mean something even if his life never did.

But Eliza? The thought of losing her terrified him more than he would ever have words for.

So, that was why he needed the promise. He needed to hear her low warm voice tell him with certainty that no matter what came for them, even as they kept living on a knife edge, death living on their doorstep, he’d still have his Eliza. She’d come home to him.

Just as Eliza needed the quiet confirmation that he’d think of himself too, even just a little, that Alex would remember someone was waiting for him to come home too.

It was how they always began.

But what happened afterwards they could never predict.

The darkness in the building, even with the sickly moonlight filtering in and turned yellow by the filthy and cracked windows, it was oppressive. Alex knew he should be quiet, he should be beyond cautious, he and Eliza had traced a dozen missing person’s cases in the last six months to this town, to this abandoned canning factory quietly crumbling to dust on the outskirts of it. People just disappearing off the face of the planet, into nothingness. They’d flipped through the leather-bound journal with Alex’s mother’s name still scrawled on the cover again and again and both come to the same conclusion, that had made their blood go cold simultaneously.

They were dealing with a demon. And a powerful one at that.

So, when a high school student had been the next to go missing, a young thing only seventeen years old, Eliza’s conscience hadn’t been able to take it anymore (not when the girl looked a little like her own sister Peggy). But they’d both agreed that this was a step up from what they were used to, this was a job where they needed to be careful.

But all thoughts of caution had fled Alex’s mind, he was racing through the empty hallways, his eyes wild and his heart pounding, his nerves alight and burning.

Because Eliza was gone.

She’d been right behind him. Eliza was always right behind him, she’d promised, just like always.

But there’d been a noise, a rush of air and a small gasp and when Alex had whirled around, the hallway was empty. And the world had fallen away from under his feet.

Now he was crashing through the place, his footsteps bouncing off the walls as he desperately searched for Eliza, calling her name, begging her to answer him, not caring who or what heard him if Eliza did.

He collapsed against the railings overlooking what had once been the factory floor, now a shell, an empty hollow. The shadows that ran up the walls became shapes, terrifying nightmares of what could be happing to her, to his Eliza-

“Eliza!” Alex yelled, his voice close to breaking, “Eliza, where are y- “

“Alex?”

He froze, wondering if that had been real or if it had just been him hearing what he wanted to hear. But there it was again, her voice, sounding calm and normal.

“Alex! We’re in here, I found her!”

He was off like a shot, following the sound through into one of the stairwells, crashing through the door and taking the steps two at a time.

And there she was, on one of the landings, a tight space. The girl was lying on the grimy concrete floor, face down, looking rumpled and weak but unharmed as far as Alex could see. And Eliza was bent over her, protectively, two fingers pressed to her neck as she checked for a pulse. Alex could have collapsed with relief at the sight of her.

“She’s okay,” Eliza didn’t look up at him, she was too intent on checking over the girl, “Doesn’t seem hurt.”

“A-and the demon?” Alex panted, catching his breath, “What happened to you, Eliza, where did you go? Are you okay, are you hurt?”

Eliza flashes her eyes up to him quickly, “Yeah I’m fine. It had her but it just let go. I guess it moved on when it saw we were here to take care of it.”

Alex came and knelt by her, his hand on Eliza’s shoulder just to reassure himself that it was all okay, she was really here and she was really safe. She didn’t lean into him, she busied herself checking the girl’s skin for burn marks.

Alex saw how the girl looked pale up close, worryingly so. In fact, there was a worrying mark around her neck, like a bruise, “We should take her to the hospital.”

Eliza didn’t sound too worried, “She’s fine. She’s breathing. We can just call 911 and get out of here, the demon could come back after all.”

There was a long pause, a long and slow heartbeat. Alex’s hand dropped from Eliza’s shoulder. Wait…

“And just…leave her here? When she needs help? Eliza…” his voice was quiet and it shook. He frowned at his girlfriend, a thought taking root at the base of his skull that he desperately hoped was wrong.

“Eliza?”

Please no. Please God, no…

She sighed as if in frustration, combing her hair behind one ear and languidly rising to her feet, “Well shit…I’d hoped to keep this up a little longer at least but she’s such a goody two shoes isn’t she, this one…Couldn’t keep up…”

Eliza’s voice was now hard and cool, slick, oily almost.

And when she turned to gaze collectedly down at Alex, who was trembling slightly, frozen in place, silently begging that none of this was true…

Her warm brown eyes were solid black. Unflinching. Pitted.

This wasn’t Eliza.

“I guess we get right to the fun and games then,” it smirked.

“No!” Alex yelled, skittering backwards as one of his many nightmares come to life in front of him, desperation hot and sickening running through his veins, “No, no, get the fuck out of her! Leave her alone!”

The demon wearing Eliza, using her like a puppet, grinned sardonically, “And she thinks you’re good with words…You’re a disappointment, Alexander Hamilton.”

Surrounded by shadow, unable to move her limbs or turn her head, held somewhere she couldn’t see, bound by something she couldn’t feel. Eliza would only thrash and kick against the unyielding nothingness as she saw the fear in her Alex’s eyes, the disbelief and shock and horror. And he was looking at her…She screamed at him to run.

Alex sprang to his feet, fire flooding through his body, darkness in his expression. In the small confined space, he made himself step forward towards this thing, this facsimile of the woman he loved that was gazing at him with such horribly languid confidence, challenging him.

“You sick son of a bitch, give her back right now or I will make you fucking regret the day you crawled out of hell,” Alex spat, venom filling his voice.

The demon raised Eliza’s eyebrow, seemingly completely unfazed by his fury, “Wow. Well, that’s not the Alexander Hamilton that’s in this brain. Wow. Well you’ve been keeping things from your poor girl, haven’t you?”

That knocked Alex right in the chest, his anger slipping into desperation for a moment before his face twisted in fury again.

He knew there were parts of himself he kept from Eliza, a darkness and shadow in him that he tried so hard not to let her see, what years of fighting alone had grew in him. But that was what was working him now, taking him over while the part of Alex was usually in charge cringed and sobbed in terror.

He just couldn’t stop it.

“You know something, Alexander,” the demon leaned in, closing the distance between them and moving closer to his ear, smirking as he flinched away, “You’re actually scaring her, I can feel it, she’s never seen this side of you before. Careful, boy. She’s terrified of you.”

Alex tried not to show fear, he really tried. But those words hurt as if the monster had sunk claws into him, he winced.

Eliza screamed, rattling against what was holding her, sobbing that no, no it wasn’t true, she loved him, she wasn’t afraid. But, God, she was afraid. She was.

“I will destroy you,” Alex vowed, tears building in his eyes despite himself. He was hanging onto his control by a thread, “I will burn you, I will hurt you, I will fucking destroy you.”

The demon gave a low laugh, so much like Eliza’s warm, loving chuckle that for so many years had lit up Alex’s life, the tears ran down his cheeks and his expression tightened.

“And how are you going to do that, pretty boy?” the demon bared Eliza’s teeth, watching and brightening as Alex flinched. Her voice grew teasing, mocking, playful, “That’s what she calls you in bed, isn’t it? Oh there’s all that and more up in this pretty little head. Quite the bend over boyfriend aren’t you, Alexander, for such a big, tough hunter. I tell you, she looks so sweet and innocent, our Eliza, but you’ve done a wonderful job of corrupting her…”

“Fuck off,” Alex snarled, his voice tightening but he backed up. His hands flew to the gun at his belt, the knife at his hip, any of it. But the thought of pointing it at Eliza, his Eliza…but he couldn’t listen to this anymore. Now his back was against the wall.

The demon gave a small gasp, Eliza’s hand flying to her throat. “You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t point a gun at your Betsey, would you? Hold a knife to her throat, right where you were kissing just last night? Alexander…” Eliza’s expression crumpled, the demon’s influence hidden for a moment and all there was left was just her, looking scared and hurt.

His face twisted, “Stop it. Stop it.”

There was that laugh again, his Eliza’s laugh but also not, the one that made him want to vomit.

“You can’t hurt me, can you, pretty boy? Not without hurting your sweet Betsey, the ‘only person to ever make you feel safe since you were a kid’, that’s what you told her,” the demon mocked him with his own words, the words it had taken so much bravery to give to her.

But it was right. For all his words and his dark anger, Alex couldn’t bring himself to put a hand on his girlfriend. He just couldn’t.

The demon’s dark eyes seemed to pull in the light as it twisted Eliza’s face into a smile and growled, “But I can hurt you…”

The next thing Alex knew, he was moving, like an invisible force had struck him hard. He was thrown back against the concrete wall of the stairwell, with the hard rush off all the air leaving him and the familiar sharp sting of a rib breaking. Pain rushed through him and he couldn’t hold back the cry of shock. He was allowed to feel the agony for a heartbeat and then the world tipped and he was thrown bodily down the stairs. Dull, heavy strikes to his shoulder, his back, his chest, over and over until he slumped on the ground in a heap.

There was blood in his eyes and his mouth, a throbbing through his limbs, a ringing in his ears and through it all, what hurt the most, that laughter…

Eliza sobbed without sound, without tears, feeling every strike Alex took like it was happening to her own body. Her hands had done it; she’d hurt him and she was laughing…

Alex slowly tried to right himself but there was no strength in him, his arms gave way underneath him with white hot flare. Something must be broken in them. So, he could only lie there and watch as the demon casually loped down the stairs towards him, giggling delightedly.

“I can hear her crying, you know,” it laughed, like it was making polite conversation, “She’s sobbing, she’s screaming your name but no one can hear but me. It’s hilarious.”

Alex grunted and finally staggered to his feet, that excruciating image propelling him upwards, “Eliza…”

He stumbled backwards, through the doors at the bottom of the stairs, into what must have been a meeting room decades ago. Alex couldn’t support his weight anymore, crumpling in on himself against the back wall, spattering droplets of blood in his wake.

Just a little further, just a little further, that’s all Eliza can think, desperately like a frantic prayer. Just. A little. Further.

Alex was done.

“You can have me, okay?” his voice was small, begging, “Just leave her and take my body instead, I’ve caused so much more trouble for your kind than she has. If you promise you’ll leave her and let her go free…you can possess me.”

Both the demon and Eliza froze, one in delight, one in horror. The grin that spread across her gentle, familiar face was so wide and cracked, it was wrong, like a fissure in her face, like a wound, “Oh. Oh, how touching, I could cry…though of course it’s the irony that’s the really delicious part…how you’d sacrifice yourself, pretty boy, for a girl that doesn’t even love you back…”

Alex jerked and gave a moan of pain that had nothing to do with his broken bones, his black eye, his split lip.

“She l-loves me,” he nearly sobbed, hiding his head in his hands, “I know Eliza loves m-me, shut the f-fuck up.”

The demon gave a callous snort, leaning in the doorway and regarding him with a disdainful expression, “She really had you convinced, huh? Oh, pretty boy, of course she never loved you, not really. How could someone like her fall for a messed-up freak like you? She felt sorry for you when she picked you up out of the gutter all those years ago, she thought you’d be good for a quick fuck, that was it. Your dearest Betsey’s just been trying to figure out a way to get rid of you all these years.”

“No…no, no, no…” Alex was a broken man, trying to block out those words, in that voice but still they permeated like some foul, acidic poison.

The demon grinned in satisfaction, “Of course, I think you always knew that, deep down. You know how worthless you are, Alexander, but you saw what you wanted to see. And who can blame you….”

It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true, don’t listen to it, Alex, no. I love you, I love you, I love you I love you I love…

Alex nearly snarled, his pain and anger and grief flaring, “Just take me, please. Let Eliza go.”

The demon forced Eliza’s face into a shocked expression, “Goodness. After all that you still want to give up your freedom for hers? Then you’re an even bigger idiot than Eliza ever imagined. But no…no, I don’t think I will. I fear I’ve broken you, pretty boy. No, instead I’ll just kill you, nice and slow and painful. Then your dearest Betsey and I are going to have some fun.”

As if to emphasise exactly what it meant, Eliza’s hands ran down her curves as a twisted smile alighted on her heart shaped face.

Alex tried to find it in him to care that death was staring right in the face. But all he could do was curl up in a tight ball and weep, all he could think was that he’d failed. He’d failed to protect his Eliza, after he’d promised.

He’d failed.

“Well…” the demon sounded vaguely disappointed, “Guess you are broken. So much for the infamous Hamilton family. Ah well, let’s put these pretty hands to good use then…”

A step forward, another. And then something in the air changed.

Eliza’s expression flickered through several states, confusion, a flash of fear, anger, shock. And then resignation.

“Well fuck…”

Alex looked through his fingers, realising that his own laboured breathing was the only sound in the room. From where he was sat, hunched on the floor, the first thing Alex saw was the thing the demon had missed, in its eagerness to torture him. The thing Alex himself that missed first time around, he’d never even thought…

A devil’s trap.

One of Eliza’s.

She must have been drawing them throughout the factory as she moved through it after being separated. She must have known.

Even when she was trapped within her own body, still she saved his sorry ass. She dragged him back from the edge.

“You stupid motherfucker,” Alex snarled, his voice thick and low and dangerous.

The demon tried to hide its bewilderment but now it’s grip was slipping, now Eliza was fighting back in earnest, it was hard. Her face became a shifting map, a struggle for control.

Alex got to his feet, his eyes flashing, throwing all his pain and fury into his voice, “You’re done. Go crawl back into that pit where you belong.”

He kept his eyes down so he wasn’t looking into Eliza’s face, he knew who he was talking to.

“I’ll be back,” her voice sounded harsh and rasping, a deep echo to it now, “You can’t keep me there forever and the first thing I do when I get out is tear Eliza Schuyler limb from limb while you watch.”

Alex laughed, he actually found it in him to laugh, though it was a harsh and broken sound.

“You can fucking try,” he chuckled, “And I’ll be waiting right here and I will fucking burn you off every plane of existence, I swear you will regret the day you came after my family. Bye now.”

The incantation came out as nearly a roar, a weapon in and of itself. There was black smoke running from Eliza’s mouth, her head snapped back, her eyes wide. A rushing sound, shadows swam at the edges of Alex’s vision and he felt his knees buckle, the pain and exhaustion overtaking him.

And then the next thing he knew, a small, scared voice.

“Alex?” Eliza hovered over him, wanting to touch him, wanting to run away and hide, wanting to scream, wanting to cry. And not having any idea at all what to do.

“Alex, please be okay. Please.”

The break in her voice, that could only be his Eliza. Alex lifted his head, looking through his swollen, bloodied eyes at her face. Her expression made him wince.

“I’m okay,” he wheezed, “I’m okay, I promise. And you…”

“It’s me,” Eliza nearly sobs, “It’s me, Alex, it’s gone. It’s gone, I’m me.”

Both of them knew what they should be doing, what should be happening. Eliza falling to her knees and wrapping Alex in her arms, both of them sobbing in relief, rocking each other until this whole horrible thing was forgotten and behind them.

That didn’t happen. Alex stood, shaking, dripping blood to the ground. Eliza hugged her arms around herself, feeling so…used. So violated, like she couldn’t tell if these limbs were even hers. And neither of them moved.

“The girl,” Eliza eventually whispered, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, the tears she hadn’t been able to cry coming now, “She needs to go to the hospital. And so do you, Alex, we need to get you fixed up.”

Even through his pain and all the confusion, the thick fog that had suddenly grown between them, Alex could give a small smile.

Definitely his Eliza.

Eliza drove the way back into town while Alex hunched in the passenger seat, wincing and moaning softly at every sharp turn and bump in the road. The girl was still unconscious but she was going to be okay, Eliza thought, she was just exhausted.

Alex was in no shape to help the girl into the building when they arrived, it fell to Eliza. But when she came back to the car, to help her boyfriend, to get the many, many injuries he’d gotten (that she’d given him) seen to.

But Alex only caught her hand, winding his fingers through hers. She shivered a little at the first contact since she’d been forced to say and do those awful things but she grasped at it gratefully.

“Eliza, I…can we just go home? Can you just stitch me up?” Alex’s voice was a low plead.

Trust. He still trusted her.

Eliza nodded furiously, “Of course. I can take care of you.”

The familiar touch was what they needed right now, it made them think that maybe this was something they could get through.

Maybe.

This was familiar too, Alex lying on the couch in their small, cluttered apartment, moaning softly as Eliza stitched and cleaned and soothed the aches and pains from his body. They’d done this so many times before, more times than either of them would like.

Though of course something was different this time.

“Almost done…” Eliza murmured, holding his hand tightly while tying off the bandage with the other, “And there you go. Well done.”

Alex gave a soft sigh, relaxing a little, mumbling vague thanks as his eyes slid shut. Eliza watched his face carefully for a few moments, watched his chest rise and fall painfully. She sighed and went to wash the utensils and get the blood off her hands…

She stopped dead, halfway to the kitchen.

Alex’s blood. On her hands.

Eliza felt herself falling, felt the shadows creeping back around her and that awful invisible force locking around her limbs-

“Betsey?” Alex’s voice was a whisper but it reached her, even through the tightening panic.

That name meant a lot to the both of them. It was the name Alex whispered tenderly into her hair as they lay in a tangled heap after they were done making love, it was the one he sighed as she hugged him after one of his many panic attacks. It was his name for her, their reminder that no matter what happened to them, their love was real and they had that much.

And right now it gave her the strength to turn and face him.

Tears spilt over her warm brown eyes, running down her cheeks as the words broke forth, “Alex, you know none of that was true, everything it said was a lie! I love you so much, you mean everything to me, you’re my world, Alex, I h-hate that I hurt y-you, I’m so s-sorry, so sorry…”

Suddenly she was on her knees beside the couch and Alex’s arms were around her and they were rocking gently, his voice gentle in her ear. Within seconds, he was crying too.

“It wasn’t you, my Eliza, my Betsey, it was that thing. You didn’t mean…I’m just sorry I couldn’t protect you better…”

They sobbed for a long, long time, until it was all gone and there was nothing but the warmth and safety of each other’s arms. Though this wouldn’t be the end of it. This was no easy fix, Eliza could see weeks and months, maybe years of nightmares and fear, they certainly wouldn’t be hunting for a little while. There’d be sobbing and sleepless nights and pain before all this was over.

But through it all, Alex would be right there. That much she knew.

When the sobs had eventually given way to silent tears and aching eyes, Alex slowly moved so his forehead was resting against Eliza’s, a tender gesture.

His voice cracked and splintered but Eliza understood him perfectly in so many ways, the way she always understood Alexander. And she answered him back with as much strength as she could muster.

“Be careful,” Alex groaned, so much love in his eyes.

“You too,” Eliza murmured, clinging to him.

“Stay alive.”

“You too.”

“I love you, Betsey.”

“I love you.”

#hamliza #ficlet #supernatural au #angst #hurt/comfort #spn au #alexander x eliza #please comment and let me know what you liked!

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amazingjackthefactfinder-blog · 7 years

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It has begun. The blog that will bust the doors wide open.

I’m sure you’ve heard of muck raking and I am not one for buck taking so the buck stops here. I am going out into the world to finally once and for all get to the bottom of all the nonsense and do some cold hard journalism. Pie a la mode style. Meaning i may have a cold creamy gal riding on top of my crisp apples... but watch out she bites. She is one icy B and a half. Nevertheless I will go on to announce that as a promise to my never ending ever growing swarm of listeners I never sacrifice my integrity for a back alley handy and a warm plate of dessert. One other thing I would like to mention is that my theme songs will be extensions of my soul and eventually will amass to form a discography intent on making any record collection obsolete whether it be a slew of Blondie and Barbara Streisand Albums or the record collection owned by Kenny “The Tits” Daffledinger. When asked why they call him “The Tits”, “The Tits” replied “Well Jack, I’m what you could call a connoisseur. I don’t buy nothin’ unless it makes this phrase pop out of my mouth, ‘Oh lawdy lawdy I do declare these be the tits what my eyeballs oogly googly googling at’ I must say that 8 or 9 times a week, and that’s just while I’m out with my grandma. I am also a certified fan of the female anatomy particularly of the booby area so I’m goin’ for a 25% tranny swap under the hood if you know what I mean.” I reply, “No Kenny, but go on, I am enthralled.” Kenny adamantly exclaims, “Well tell me this now Jack, WHY is it that girls get to have sweater puppies when my apartment complex wouldn’t even let me have a pet rock. WHY is it that man has not yet evolved to lactate? AND WHY have you never just racked on a pair of 36 C donkey pillows and gone with the partial sex change. Aint got shit now Jack where are your answers? Well ill tell you what, my chesticles will never see the light of day with you in the room that much is for sure. These are my Tits. I am The Tits. My tits are the Tits so call me Tits, remember... The one with the bangin butterscotch hard candy nipples.” And that was all “The Tits” was willing to share with us that day he said something about pollen in the air and ran off to get some alkaline water from the water store just adjacent of the senior citizen version of hooters, droopies on Mackeral Blvd.

An introductory message and guarantee of service by The Amazing Jack himself.

This is the Amazing Jack reporting for reporter duty. This is my Manhattan Project. An adventure so death defying and deplorable yet heart warming and soul filling it will shape the fate of the world in the same fashion Chicken soup for the Soul gave you a faster decision on what to read while dropping brown. Remember Heroes live forever. But legends never die. And the hallowed reporters creed states “Never shy away from a task so daunting it seems like trying to floss a lion’s back molar when the lion is suffering from a toothache.” (Reporter Creed: subsection 34N-fi-alpha-4) Danger and a story so juicy you’ll be asking if this is an expose on Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum. But thats far from the case this path on which we are about to embark is something much more life threatening and repulsive. And we reporters get off to that shit. So to recap Heroes forever, legends immortal. Reporters? They just inject the Novocaine and root canal that overgrown house cat till our restless minds are at peace once more.

With great power does not come great responsibility in reality alongside great power comes manslaughter government corruption and if youre lucky a sweet chopper with a wicked amount of horsies pumpin through the engine. All of which I have leads on and the resulting stories will eventually put your ass where your hat goes with the shistorm of raw unfiltered news that comes in your ears and plops its balls on your favorite addition of home and garden. “Ah hell no not my dream house ‘zine, it’ll be weeks until the next edition, I’m going to march on Washington” You’ll cry as you rally your multiracial family and tell them the news you just heard. But it will be too late old news is cold news so go drink a cold brew and wait for the next delightfully painful kick to the groin that we call current events.

With vengeance,

The Amazing Jack

Legal Disclaimer

(The Amazing Jack is not a registered trademark and is not held down by any one career. Journalistic skills may be lacking as The Amazing Jack is mainly shoe salesman at a shoe store in Southern California, cannot guarantee the sole proprietor ownership of this title: The Amazing Jack, Amazing is a subjective term, Jack may possibly not astonish or excite you, Call your doctor if you experience dry heaves or scabies, toxic chemicals have been used in the production of this blog, all animals may seem hurt but realistically that female miniature pincer was just being a little bitch that day, vengeance may fall upon you by someone other than The Amazing Jack and in such cases, swift blows to the kidneys and spleen have been experienced, Warning do not repeat anything you have read on this blog or listened to in our respective fact finding missions, this is of course if you care whatsoever about your social status or the way people rate your intelligence, otherwise take your “given up sweat pants” out of there secret hiding place and binge on all of The Amazing Jack’s content, talk excessively about obscure insider information, and purchase any and all of our non explosive merchandise [Warning product Amazing Jack DIY Dynamite assault charges mislabeled DIY Dynamite Dance Party and military grade explosives were sold in children’s activity aisles all across 8 countries including the US Mexico and Many Nordic locations. All sales are final, yes, even for merchandise our LLC charged to any stolen credit card you left in our flagship store/roller derby rink, The owner will find a place for the 17 7XL Amazing Jack Daygo Lyfestyle Signature Tube Top Wife beater as it is illegal in all 50 states and us Territories to throw away materials rated with exceedingly high uranium and lead content. [This is a specific but public message about your “stolen” credit card, we are holding a VISA Platinum credit card for Gino Togenclap who claims we here at the The Amazing Jack Production Team have been misusing his identity. This ungrateful piece of filth lives on 3853 Hermdiddle Coast Way, Sweet Lips, Tennessee 38340 Gino tends to be home in the mornings and evenings so for all you scavengers out there only case his residence at this time don’t get those sticky fingers just yet. Use excessive force if necessary to acquire Mr. Togenclap’s valuables and burn his family photos for good measure. Gino we don’t regret to inform you the new season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt has come out on streaming networks but our office has been swamped with murky mud water and what looks like alligators and air boat parts so the mail people don’t pick up our packages anymore, this means we must continue our subscription in your name to hulu, nfl sunday ticket, netflix, amazon prime, Omaha steak delivery, the office wide Disneyland yearly passes we each got as bonuses last quarter, also our CFO Tommy Rimshot was saying he was experiencing some mild to sever spinal pain so we had you hook him up with the deluxe weekly package down at Attitude Adjustment, it’s that new chiropractor that took the idea of being sarcastically really mean and bad at his job like the folks down at dicks last resort, Tommy goes down there first thing they do is just hit him with a baseball bat right below his 7 cervical spine vertebrae and they fracture his hole spinal column, then they yell just kidding! Tommy was laughing so hard he was screaming in pain, 6 months of physical therapy with a lifetime of Oxycontin and he keeps saying he cant believe how dedicated the employees are to providing a comical and impacting experience for every customer, he has no idea how they knew he didn’t have insurance and would have to pay out of pocket, well we just put it on your card, you’ve got to try it out Gino, maybe when you get your credit card back, which I highly doubt will be any time this winter, possibly 2019. I can get you a good referral have em fuck up your back real good then fix it, That’s what we do to all of our friends and associates who “Talk too much” anyway this is meant to be a legal document that will hold up in court I better hold all the fraud extortion robbery and forgery chitchat for when i face time you, gotta jet talk to you soon Big G] Remember we also have a you break it you buy it policy on The Amazing Jack’s patented mustache If you break it you must pay the yearly $89,000 disabled severance from mustache package and if The Amazing Jack may happen to pass away from a sudden spelunking accident, act of nature, act of God, or point blank bullet wound to the facial area after severance from said official patented Amazing Jack Mustache the person/person’s responsible must pay out The Amazing Life Insurance policy Jack took out at age 26. Which is $5,000,000 to each of his 4 children and $800,000 to his pet brown bear to cover room and board along with the domesticated brown bear’s stamp collecting habit.)

Sincerely,

Ron Gotabitabeli

Head of Amazing Jack’s Crackpot Legal Defense Squadron (trademark)

#breaking news #muckraker #underground #topsecret #publicaccess #honesty #Integrity #justice #JackAmazedmeandalligotwasthislousyhashtag #legalteam #storiesthatmatter #factchecker #oneblogtorulethemall #onereportertoreportit

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crippling-amxiety-and-depression · 7 years

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Memories of You (Journal Entry #10)

Ah yes, the inevitable Stef post. This one was coming in eventually, just cause it’s crazy to thing how much someone can have an impact on your life without even having that much of a personal connection with them. I bet for all 5 of you reading this, you’re probably thinking, “Oh boy another video game song!”. Well yeah, but for good reason. I played through the game that this song is from, Persona 3, during my Junior year, around the time this shit happened. So anyways in order to explain sophomore/junior year Stef, I first have to explain 8th grade Stef. So Stef was this really nice girl who I knew in middle school. During that time when hormones are running rampant and kids are just figuring out what attraction to others is, having a crush on someone was a pretty common thing imo. Like it feels like something that naturally happens at that age to every kid at least once just cause it’s a part of growing up. Anyways, since my days as a wee lad, I never really had friends of the opposite sex. Idk why really, but throughout my life (even to right now to an extent), I’ve always had a fear of talking to people of the opposite sex for some reason. Idk if it’s a normal thing or not, but I’ve just always been like that. So throughout middle school, it was pretty natural for me to only hang out with guys just cause that’s where I felt comfortable with myself. Around 8th grade, I was able to befriend Stef fairly easily and for once I didn’t feel all nervous and giddy around her, I just felt normal. It was nice, having a friend who was a girl for a change of pace. Our friendship wasn’t too deep, since I never really got to know her that well, but it was still a nice friendship. She had a couple of boyfriends that year and I even remember shouting at him “If you ever hurt her again I’ll kick your ass!” (Which is a total lie since 8th grade me was a 4′7 kid who had yet to hit puberty). If it was to the point where I felt defensive about her like that, I’d say we had a decent friendship. So when we started high school, I ended up kinda losing contact with her since we had different lunch hours and schedules, so I never really saw her. But come sophomore year, we ended up sharing a class where we almost always had free time, so we were able to catch up and rekindle that nice friendship from two years prior. At this point I was a major dork and I was able to make her laugh quite often, and making her laugh so often and just telling stories and talking about anime and what not was just so fun. At this point I was still developing that strong ass friendship I had with the boi Frank, and although I had other people to hang out with, I didn’t have that same dynamic with anyone else. It was a really unique feeling, being able to bring happiness to someone else like that on a nearly daily basis for a year. Before I knew it, I started falling for her and I let my imagination run wild. I was an inexperienced high schooler who was a dork and had never been in anything inherently close to a relationship yet, so I didn’t really know what to say or do. Around this time I met a really cool dude named John (s/o to you you’re chill af man never change <3), and it turns out he had dated Stef during our freshman year (when I didn’t have contact with Stef at all). I ended up telling him how I felt about her (at the time I had no idea they had dated) and I asked him what should I do about it because I sure as hell had no idea what to do about it. He told me to just go for it, and that if anyone had a shot with her it would definitely be me. We had this conversation around March, and I came so close to asking her about it so many times, but I could never bring myself around to doing it. Spring passed, and so did summer, and I still hadn’t acted on my feelings at all. When school started again in August, I would see her every morning walking to class, and I would always smile and say Hi, but never anything else. I still had lingering feelings for her, and I thought of so many different ways of trying it out. Like I knew where her locker was, I easily could’ve just dropped something in there, or asked to talk to her sometime after school, but I never did. I ended up going to the LA county fair towards the end of September, and I think that night was the turning point for me. I was separated from my family for a few minutes, and something about the atmosphere that night really got to me. Seeing all these couples having the time of their lives, and me just sulking around like a sad sack of shit alone really got to me, and left this empty feeling inside of me. I told myself, “If I had told Stef since March, she could’ve been here with me right now. I can’t hold this in anymore”, and from that moment I had decided that the next time I saw her, I would ask her to the homecoming game/dance and I would at least hear what she had to say about it. Never in my life did I ever feel like my heart was gonna leap out of my chest, I was so nervous that the first time I was gonna tell her I ended up just croaking out a greeting and left as fast as I could because goddamn it was so bad I was just sweating bullets and it was awful. The next time I would see her was in between classes, and for some reason, my dumbass decided, “I have 2 minutes to chat it up, now’s my chance!” (pro tip for all you youngsters out there, trying to do some shit like this in 2 minutes is impossible, abort mission). Instead of my original intention of “Hey do you wanna go to the homecoming game and dance together?” I ended up nervously splurting, “HEY DO YOU WANNA BE MY GIRLFRIEND???” Which by the way I shit you not I said it exactly like that and oh boy i fucking regretted it so much as soon as I said it like man you don’t even know. ANYWAYS MY TERRIBLE GRAMMAR AND SENTENCE STRUCTURE ASIDE she said no in the nicest way possible, but ended up saying six words that would fuck me up to this very day. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”. At first I was just relieved that we both got this out of the way and I didn’t have to worry about it. But afterwards I started to think about it and that damned question haunted me. It’s silly to say this to a bunch of strangers, but even though Stef and I never had anything going on, it still hurt a lot. I would see her every morning when i walked to my first class, and I would just smile and say hi like everything was fine, but all this was a real blow to how I would interact with people who I liked. Like from now on a constant thought in my head was “I have to say something now or it’ll be too late” or “it’s too late I blew it”. I would see her walking around with other people after school from a window in night school, it really hurt. I had these massive ups and downs for the rest of that school year, and whenever I would go out to the mall or even if someone knocked on my door I would legit freak out because I thought it was her for some weird fucking reason, idk how to describe it but maybe paranoia is the proper word for it? Idk all I know is that I felt like total shit because of this and I honestly felt that if I had just kept my stupid mouth shut things would’ve been so much better. Later on I found out that she was actually really weird and had tried getting with two of my best friends at some point (the fact that she had never even bothered with me despite being willing to date her just rubbed salt in the wound), and that she was overall a really messed up person. Some would say that I really dodged a bullet there (in my case the gun was never really loaded in the first place but I think you get the point) but the whole experience really fucking sucked. I went through so many ups and downs, and hit tons of low points in so little time that I legitimately hated myself, it really sucked. But if all this taught me anything, it’s that you really should keep yourself in check, and don’t let your head run wild with thoughts, cause when it all comes crashing down it hurts even harder. Anyways it’s 2:30 am and I haven’t dropped the song link yet, give this song a good listen some of the lyrics remind me of a shittier time but in a good way, especially since I beat this game during one of my ups and it was just overall a feel good moment ^~^

Kimi no Kioku (Original Jap. Version): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-CSZDbKuL4 Memorie of You (KICKASS COVER BY AN AMAZING HUMAN NAMED SAPPHIRE, GO CHECK HER OTHER SHIT OUT THIS SONG MAKES ME SO HAPPY AHHH): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOKyf_7J6sA

#kimi no kioku #memories of you #sapphire #online journal #persona 3 #high school stories

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