#like looking back on myself during elementary/middle school days is crazy.. i never did anything out of my comfort zone and never talked to

[spiderbyhoshi]

junhui talking abt how he dealt with social anxiety and how if u want to overcome it u truly have to force urself out of ur comfort zone and convince urself u aren’t nervous and little by little u will start to believe it and believe in urself and him saying "open the little door to your world and i believe this world will accept you"

[meimae]

Language Learning Through Immersion: One Year Japanese Update

11/03/2021

I did it, you guys! I’ve successfully reached my very first year of Japanese language immersion! I honestly thought that I would have given up by now, but this really has been a fun and ultimately rewarding endeavor.

Studying the language has been at the back of my mind for years since elementary school, I just never really knew how to go about it before, and I always thought that I could learn it in a classroom setting someday. That someday for me was in two elective courses in university, and while those were fun as well, it did not give me the same gains that I have achieved in this past year.

It’s probably easier to quantify learning a language in a classroom setting, especially when going through a program to earn a language degree. Learning through immersion, however, I had to really consider what my goals should be on my own. Eventually, I stumbled upon an article saying that for an English speaker, Japanese was exceptionally difficult to learn and that at least 2,200 hours must be spent with the language to reach a certain level of proficiency. So I said to myself, “well okay internet, if you say so!”, and set that as my long term goal going forward.

Spoiler Alert: I did not hit that goal in my first year. I am not crazy and will never listen to Japanese in my sleep regardless of what Khatzumoto (the creator of All Japanese All the Time) says. 

I did, however, hit a total 1,226.65 active immersion hours in my first year, so I guess I’m still a bit nuts. That is 874.96 hours of active listening and 351.69 reading hours. I also did 270.59 hours of passive listening, also known as the time in the very beginning of my immersion where I was using Japanese subtitles (therefore not really concentrating on listening alone). That’s a cumulative 1,497.24 hours spent with Japanese. That’s more than halfway towards my goal! 

To further break that down for curious animanga fans out there, that’s 973 episodes from 109 anime, 765 episodes from 33 dramas, 7 movies, and 967 chapters from 107 volumes of manga (21 series). Here’s my anilist and mydramalist to see what I’ve read/watched.

During all this, I was also doing my daily Anki reps and now I have a 530 day SRS streak (includes the time prior starting immersion and only doing RTK and some vocabulary cards) and a total 8,857 sentence cards. I’ve been averaging 406 cards daily (because I’m trying to cure my leeches) and I spend about an hour per day doing reps and learning new cards. I don’t really track my time on Anki, but I do have a set timer that goes off after 1-1:30 hours.

What I haven’t touched upon at all is output. I have not gone out of my way to find a tutor or a language partner. There’s still plenty of input out there to immerse in before I even consider outputting.

Graphs, stats, and more thoughts:

Here's my current card count in my main deck (minus the cards in my new/learning queue and leeches I've been relearning which are in separate decks):

That one day in 2019 where I did not do my cards because I was seriously doubting whether I can actually stick with language learning this time around will forever haunt and inspire me to keep going everyday.

Workflow and Tips

You might be wondering, how do I have a lot of time? I started this whole endeavor in the middle of a pandemic, which eliminated the option of me going to a language school, and a slew of other things I were considering doing last year became impossible (and if anything, very scary to do in a pandemic). All I can say is that, things work out eventually if it is His will, and if I can learn a skill before everything properly settles back down again, then why not? 

I wake up at 5 in the morning everyday to either do my Anki reps or read until the time when I need to get up and I listen to compressed audio throughout the day. The biggest tip is to switch the time you spend watching/reading in your native language to your target language instead. Listen to a podcast during your commute, watch an episode during lunch break, read before going to bed, do your Anki reps in the bathroom if you have to. 

But, if you’re feeling burnt out, there is no reason for you to not take a break! I have been watching a lot of Among Us streams before bed, and I chat with my friends from time to time. Language learning is not a race.

More Stats

Here are a couple of grids of the kanji characters that I have encountered at least once in my immersion and how well I have answered them in my vocabulary/sentence cards.

It's interesting that after almost 9000 words, I have yet to encounter every single character from the Remembering the Kanji 1 (RTK 1) book by James Heisig, which teaches you the most common use characters that are part of the 常用漢字. Which brings me to the question, was writing down every single character being taught in RTK worth it every time it came up in my reviews for the first 3-ish months I was reviewing them? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly removed my anxiety whenever looking at blocks of text in Japanese, but the longer I think about it, the more I feel I should have switched to Recognition RTK earlier. Still, being able to write in proper stroke order is cool I guess, and it also helps me when looking things up in the dictionary.

Here’s the same grid but in JLPT order:

I clearly need to grind those N2 and N1 level cards! Speaking of which, I have apparently almost covered every single character that could possibly appear in the JLPT (except for the N1 which I have only covered half of) in just a year's time. If the JLPT word frequency lists I’m using are accurate, I have about 2,000 words more to go to to cover most vocabulary that could appear in the test. This makes the "10,000 sentences/words to fluency" argument a reasonable milestone to aim for for Japanese learners if said aim is only to pass the test. That said, 10,000 words is just that, a milestone. It's more akin to a comfortable level of comprehension, but not my own concept of fluency which is being able to read with ease, speak articulately, and write comfortably.

READING IMMERSION GRAPHS

My biggest motivation for tracking my stats is for the purpose of seeing whether my reading speed is improving over time. Reading speed is also easier to measure than listening comprehension which is kind of subjective, so I had a lot of fun making these. What I found is that for the first volume or chapter of whatever it is I’m reading, I always take the time to get used to the writing style of the author. My speed really improves whenever I keep reading the same topic over and over again. On the other hand and quite obviously, looking up many new words in a row and trying to parse sentences slows me down.

Manga: Reading Speed Progression per Volume

I clearly love ちはやふる and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I need to start reading longer manga. When I do, I’ll probably split this graph into less than and greater than 20 volumes. Imagine if I start reading something ridiculously long as 名探偵コナン or ワンピース, these graphs will start breaching the bounds of time and space.

Novels: Time Spent Reading per Chapter

#neverforget the time I read chapter six of Norwegian Wood for 9 hours when it took me less than half that time in English RIP. Also, my interest in Kitchen plummeted LOL. Still planning to finish it don’t worry. 

I also need to start branching away from manga and start reading more novels and light novels, too just so I can make more pretty graphs.

Visual Novels: Time Spent Reading and Daily Word Count

Also known as images that clearly show that I’ve already spent several days only reading the prologue of Island. I’m not sweating. 切那 needs to stop using words I don’t know in succession. More thoughts on this VN far into the future.

Thoughts on Immersion

I can’t really say anything else other that that it works for me, and needless to say if you’re considering this method, remember that the SRS is your friend but immersion should be your one true love.

Prior to all this, I couldn’t even read a sample paragraph from Genki without being confused to my very soul. Yes, I know, it’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth. I was way more scared of failing my Japanese classes than my actual thesis for my bachelors degree, I kid you not. I would quite literally spend all my free time in university trying to understand grammar, memorize vocabulary, and answer my workbook exercises with little to no success. 

I tried so hard to get all the grammar “formulas” into my head for 1.5 years and it only brought me more confusion. I’m never going back to traditional classroom study for language learning, but I will still refer to grammar books when I need to, and not because I feel like I need to answer 4783342 different workbook exercises like my life depended on it.

I still can’t believe it, but with immersion this statement is actually true to a point, don’t try shadowing anime/or calling your boss anime language slurs, use your common sense:

study anime to understand Japanese > study Japanese to understand anime 

Future Goals/Plans

2,200 immersion hours was my initial goal, but honestly I feel like that number could be much higher. There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand (news, politics, sciences, etc.), so I’ll make attempts to cover more of those things in my immersion. 

I’ll continue reading more, because that’s a natural SRS in itself. Try to read longer manga, more novels, visual novels, and light novels, and maybe news articles. 

I’ll try to mine as much “JLPT vocab” as I can before making any attempts at taking the JLPT. I noticed that a lot of the words I know don’t appear in the JLPT word lists as much, even though they appear a lot in media/daily conversation. 

Continue mining all words I don’t know because all words are useful anyway. There is no such thing as useless words. I never really understood mining only “interesting words” or words that “pop up” in your immersion. As I said in my previous blog post, 美人局 is an interesting word and I certainly caught it being said in my immersion, but in the three languages I know, I wouldn’t know when I would be able to use such a word, as compared to something like ジャガイモ which is a significantly less interesting word, but is certainly useful to know. 

_

I have managed to talk up a storm, but if you have any questions regarding my process or recommendations for new immersion material, please feel free to send an ask/reply to this post. I love hearing about other people’s language learning/immersion journeys. 

See you on my next post!

[longitud-de-onda]

{un veneno} january: captivate

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; the year is 1980. javier peña has been at the embassy in bogotá for a year when he meets you, fresh out of college and brand new to the country. rating; nc-17 warnings; smoking, masturbation word count; 2.4k a/n; so this is a passion project of mine, it will be 12 chapters, full of fluff, smut, warm tropical nights, and later on, a lot of angst. bonus; there’s a playlist for the series! check it out here on spotify or message me for apple music

un veneno masterlist

“Quero um–no, fuck–un paquete de cigarros?” you said to the shop attendant. Spanish was no easy task. It was a dumb decision to come here without any knowledge of the language, but you had assumed some university-level Portuguese would help. Apparently not, because the man behind the counter shot you a confused look as he pulled a pack from the shelves behind them. He understood, that was clear, but you didn’t know the words.

“Ella quiere unas Pielrojas porfa, con filtro,” said a voice behind you, “No esos malditos y caros Marlboros. Bueno, que sean dos y yo pago.”

“Señor Peña, ¿cómo vas?” the shopkeeper said, and you turned to look at this ‘Señor Peña.’

He was a bit taller than you, and more than a bit older. Tanned skin, tight pants, a pink shirt. A large pair of orange-tinted sunglasses masked his eyes.

“Muy bién, Roberto, ¿y cómo va tu esposa?” He said, and the shopkeeper laughed. You only caught a few words of the exchange and were unsure if you were getting your cigarettes.

You flew into Bogotá the day before and had just gotten settled at the hostel you’d be staying in for the next couple of weeks. It had been a solid three days since you’d had a smoke and you wanted to go to the park nearby and relax.

The man turned to you and began to speak with a rough but refreshingly familiar American accent, tinged with the light musicality of the Southern states, “I’m sorry ma’am for the interruption, but Roberto here was going to try to sell you the Marlboros, which are much to overpriced, and I couldn’t let a pretty little thing like you get ripped off like that.”

“Thank you? But I can handle myself,” you said.

“Obviously not, you sound like you’re confusing Portuguese for Spanish, which just won’t cut it here,” he said, turning to pay for the two boxes that Roberto placed on the counter.

He tossed you one pack, which you fumbled with, clutching it against your stomach to ensure it didn’t fall. He laughed.

“That right there’s a pack of Pielroja, it’s loosely packed, so I hope you don’t mind, but it’s cheaper, local, and ten times better,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said. As interesting as the guy was, you really wanted to leave for the park. Colombia wasn’t your first rodeo, but somehow every new country was exhausting between the 24th and 32nd hour marks.

“You’re welcome,” he said as you brushed by him and walked out the door.

Outside the shop, you paused to fish your lighter out of your bag.

“So what’s an American girl doing in Bogotá all alone?” The man was back, standing in front of you.

“You just don’t stop, do you?”

“Not really, no,” he grinned, leaning back against the building.

You opened the pack of cigarettes he bought you, lit one, and drew it to your lips.

“So, do you like it?” he was messing around with his own box and pulled out one. He held it out to you, silently asking for you to light it. You complied.

You weren’t sure if he was talking about cigarettes or Bogotá. “It’s nice. So far,” you said, exhaling smoke.

He laughed again, this time bringing a smile to your face. He had a nice laugh.

“You never answered me, what are you doing here?”

“Teaching English at an elementary school nearby, I start next week,” you said.

His eyebrows shot up, “How old are you? 20?”

“22.”

“What kind of 22-year-old wants to be a schoolteacher?” he said.

“Me, apparently,” you said, “But it’s not my career or anything. Graduated last May, I’ve been traveling and teaching English, got a gig here, whole school year, pays pretty well, I’m excited.”

“You’re crazy,” he said, “22, fresh out of college, your only experience out of the states was probably in Europe, and you’re gonna teach kids? In Colombia?”

“What’s wrong with a bit of crazy?” you said.

“What’s your name?” he asked, ignoring your question.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said. You liked how he said your name. “I’m Javier.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, staring at him propped up against the building.

The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and a thin sheen of sweat lay over his chest and face. Something about the look with the broad mustache made him appear like he was stuck in ‘73. His smile was one of those that reached the eyes and spilled into those around him.

You exhaled carefully.

“So, what are you doing in Colombia?” you asked.

“I work for the American embassy,” he said. There was a pause as he waited for the impressed look on your face that never came.

“What is this then, a welcome package?” you asked, chuckling to yourself.

“It could be,” he pushed himself off the wall and took another drag, “But then again, you’re only 22.”

“What does that have to—oh.” You found yourself laughing again. Javier was the sort of guy that you’d probably slap in the face back in the USA. But here, with the cloud cover doing nothing to mask the heat and humidity, the smell of papaya and passion fruit wafting through the air, you were only amused.

“See you around, Y/N,” Javier said, and he walked down the sidewalk before turning a corner and disappearing.

Five days of getting to know hundreds of students in different classes during the first week of school, all while trying to develop lesson plans, left you lying in your hostel bed on a Friday night. You were alone in the room, the rest of the residents out partying, as per usual for a hostel in the middle of a city.

You would have loved to be out too, Colombian Rock and rum thrumming through your body, dancing with someone, going home with someone.

But you had spent too much energy this week and partying would have to wait. You had a year left in Bogotá, at least another 50 Friday nights. Lesson planning would let up once you got into a rhythm. And figured out a living situation.

One of the other teachers had offered her spare bedroom during February and a bit of March, but her daughter would be back in town after that, and you’d lose the space. The wait until you got your own space in February felt far away. March even further. But planning for that needed to happen sooner rather than later. The hostel bed was killing you, and you hated the drunk guys coming and going.

At least you knew you’d be alone for another hour. No one dared come back before midnight; if you were caught calling it an early night it was certain fodder for shame the next morning. At least, that was the way your roommates worked.

Still, to be safe, you closed the curtain, encapsulating yourself on your bed in the darkness. You closed your eyes and slipped one hand down your stomach, dipping under the waistband of your pants and into your underwear.

As your fingers brushed over your clit, you let out a small gasp, your free hand fisting into the sheets. The last time you had been touched was over a month ago, back during the cold December winter weather in Brussels. You worked your hand across your slit, telling yourself this had to be a one-time thing. You would go out, find a good hookup this week.

Your brain was overworking, shuddering in pleasure, and the man from last week flickered across your vision: Javier.

You imagined his chest, the open shirt leaving a trail right down his chest, glowing in the sun. You slipped a finger inside, gasping at the sensation.

He would probably take you to bed if you played your cards right. If you found him again. He seemed to have that kind of character. You remembered his last words to you, suggestive and sensual.

He was older, probably by a lot. You shouldn’t be thinking about him, but you wanted him to hold you in his arms, kiss your neck. You imagined how he’d taste, probably like cigarettes and whiskey.

The thought of his hands snaking down your waist, pulling you closer almost sent you over and you moved your fingers faster. His smile, snarky and self-obsessed as it was, had worked its way into your brain, and you wondered where he was now.

Did he remember you? Had he laid in bed like you were now, getting himself off to your name? And that image, flooding into your brain, as unrealistic as it was, caused you to almost scream out loud, your whole body spasming.

Finally relaxed, your body almost limp on the bed, you became aware of the layer of sweat that now covered your body, and made up your mind to take a shower. As soon as you recover. That was the best orgasm you had had in months. But where had those thoughts come from?

You had only seen Javier that one time, right outside the corner store, then tried and failed to shove him out of your mind. In the few minutes you had known him, you had decided he was an asshole who didn’t deserve your time, but the sort of asshole you could see yourself becoming good friends with.

If he was years younger, you could have imagined traveling with him, continuing your round-the-world travels with Javier would have been amazing. You had seen so many things during your six months in Europe and met so many people. Many of the backpackers at the youth hostels you stayed at traveled with others. Mostly, they were single, their companions just good fun and friendship for the journey.

You had long since imagined meeting someone on the road like they did, someone that would sweep you off your feet and set aside a year of their life to spend with you, hopping from country to country, odd job to odd job.

Javier’s shit-eating grin and verbal wit would stick in your mind long after you left Colombia. And here you were, getting off to him.

If he lived in Bogotá? Worked at the embassy, probably lived nearby? You’d probably see him again. And you’d have to look at him in the eye, the only thing running through your mind the memory of tonight.

You wanted to see him again. Wanted to have lunch and smoke with him. Wanted him to show you around. But after what you just did, you didn’t know if that was possible.

Sex was no stranger to you, the one night stands being a common figure in your life throughout college, but even you wouldn’t go for someone as old as him. You had standards. A guy his age was reserved for friendship. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Until now.

“God, I’m fucked,” you breathed out, sitting up and gathering your shower stuff before heading to the bathroom.

Javier had returned to the corner store every day for the past two weeks, hoping to catch a glimpse of you again. He was back today, 15:30, hopefully after school got out, he imagined, eyes scanning the store as he lingered by the refrigerators full of six-packs.

The bell rang as someone walked in and he looked up. You stood there, exhausted from a day of child-wrangling and his eyes lit up.

All you wanted was a bottle of something and a shitty candy bar. You were roaming the aisles, trying to settle between the foreign brands of chocolate when Javier approached.

“Y/N,” he said, causing you to startle as you looked up. A deep red blush began to blossom across your cheeks as you took him in. He was even better in person.

“Javier, what a coincidence, running into you here again,” that was a lie. You walked past four other stores just to come here, hoping he would be nearby.

“Yeah... a coincidence,” he said, reaching down to grab a candy bar. “This one’s the best, that is, if you like milk chocolate.”

“So two weeks later and all you’re still giving me local product recommendations? You should write for the newspaper,” you laughed, signaling you didn’t want the chocolate when he tried to hand it to you, “But you’d be wrong, because the only good chocolate is dark chocolate.”

“You like that bitter shit?” he said, still holding the bar in his hands.

You reached down for something that said 85% and figured that would be dark enough for you.

“Gross,” he said.

“You can leave,” you said.

You didn’t want him to leave.

“Do you want to go for a coffee?” he said. “You look exhausted.”

“Real good way to charm a woman,” it should have stung, but when Javier said it, you smiled.

“That, um, sounded bad, didn’t it?” his brow was furrowed and his smile was gone.

“Yeah, it did,” you kept smiling, hoping he would light up again. You wanted his excited face burnt into your memory. “So, what’s the best café around here?”

“Are you some kind of heathen who takes their coffee with no sugar or milk to go with your raw chocolate beans? If so, I have no suggestions because that’s disgusting.”

You laughed, loudly, with your whole body, “Unfortunately for you, I do. But if you give me a good café con leche I’ll drink it.”

“Good, because you’re not going to get away with that bar of chocolate and coffee with no add-ins.”

“I worry you have a sweet tooth and can’t appreciate good flavors,” you said. It was so easy to talk with him. He knew exactly what to say to keep you smiling as he leaned against the display like he owned the place.

“I don’t have a sweet tooth, you just like your food to hurt you,” he said, “Let’s go, there’s a good café down the block.”

He reached out to grab your hand and you almost lost it. His palm was soft and his grip firm.

Javier led you to the register where he flung his arm around your shoulders, “Roberto, te acuerdas de Y/N, ¿verdad?”

Roberto chuckled, ringing up your two chocolate bars, “Por supuesto.”

He leaned towards you and said, in broken English, “Careful. Señor Peña is crazy man, yes? He is flirt but he doesn’t mean it.”

Javier laughed, “No somos una pareja, Roberto, somos amigos. Solo amigos.”

You understood that part. You were friends. You grinned. After just ten minutes of talking over two weeks, Javier thought of you as a friend.

next: february: blossom

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​ @turquiosenights (tumblr isn’t letting me tag so idk if these show up in your notifs)

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Epilogue

One Year Later

Robyn sighed as Chris gently massaged her shoulders, “What aren’t you good at?”

Chris chuckled as he placed a kiss at the top of her spine, “I haven’t found anything I can’t do, that’s why you keep me around.”

“I cannot disagree with that.”

“How you feeling?”

“Better. I hate that my balance is still off after all this time.”

“It’s not really noticeable, you just have a moment every once in a while. No big deal.”

“Nice way to say I’m clumsy as hell.”

Chris laughed, “you are not clumsy, Baby.”

“You’re my husband, of course you’d say that.”

“I’m your husband,” Chris repeated with a laugh.

“Is that all you heard me say?”

“That’s all that matters. I don’t care about you being clumsy, you fall, I catch you. That’s how we work anyway.”

“We’re married, you don’t have to keep sweet-talking me.”

“I will never stop”

“That still feels weird saying that.”

“What?”

“Married. We were divorced for seven years and now look at us.”

Chris chuckled, “we are the best thing that’s ever happened to each other.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Babe, can you pass me the lotion please?”

Chris secured a towel around his waist as he grabbed the large jar of body butter, “Nope. I’ll do it.”

“You do know my hands work?”

“I know but I’m gonna rub you down anyway. I love this time.”

Robyn folded the towel in between her breasts then followed Chris back into their bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed as Chris sat down on the fall in front of her. He lifted her foot onto his lap before he opened the jar and scooped some of the body butter into his palm then began rubbing it into her skin.

“You know what I think about sometimes?” Robyn asked.

“What?”

“Your vows.”

“My vows? Seriously?”

“Yes. Why do you sound surprised?”

“That’s not the first thing I anticipated you saying, that’s all.”

“You said a lot that I wasn’t expecting. It was very poetic.”

“Well, I’ve always had a way with words according to you.”

“I have said that before, huh?”

“Yes. Want to know a secret?”

“You better not tell me somebody else wrote your vows.”

Chris chuckled, “Nah, I wrote it, I just didn’t write it all recently.”

“Really? When did you write it?”

“Years ago, it was one of my therapy assignments. I had to write a letter to you regarding your influence on my life. I added a few things that were relative to our new wedding but most of it was written back then.”

“Babe, that was almost ten years ago.”

“I know.”

“And you held on to it all this time?”

“It was something you needed to hear, using it as my vows just seemed to be the perfect time.”

“Can you recite it for me again?”

“All of it?”

“Whatever you can remember.”

Chris smiled as he moved to her other leg and began to rub body butter into it, “I don’t know if it was fate or just divine timing but your face being the first face I saw as I walked into my elementary school classroom to your face being the last face I’ll see before I close my eyes every night was definitely not an accident. There was something about the way you always looked at me that made me feel important and worthy. It was different from the way I’d ever been looked at before and even then, at ten years old, unable to describe the feeling but knowing I felt something all the same, I fell in love with you. I couldn’t verbalize it but I tried to show it in the best way my ten year old brain knew how. So I catered to you, I protected you, I cherished you and you did the same for me. The stability I had always hoped for, you gave to me. If someone had told me then that I’d be marrying you for the second time now, I’d think they were crazy. Everyone knows this is our second time saying I do but I feel like saying I will would be more appropriate. I will, to illustrate future promises and acknowledge that now is not the only time we should be concerned about. I was concerned about now when I let you go over 7 years ago but the future matters just the same. I will continue to protect you. I will continue to care for you. For our babies. Our family. I will continue to take care of you. I will continue to honor you and in turn honor myself. I owe you a lifetime, a lifetime I promised you years ago, a lifetime I wasn’t strong enough to give you before but that I’m strong enough to give you now.”

Chris stood from his position on the floor and gently pulled Robyn up then gathered her in his arms. He rested his cheek against hers as he continued speaking in a soft whisper, “Those green eyes haunted me. Your smile hung over my shoulder like a picture on a wall. Your touch gently pushed me into the direction to better myself. I’m ready to be all you want me to be as well as what I want me to be. For our babies. For our relationship. For our love. This isn’t so much a second chance but a continuation of where we had already been. I knew the moment I saw you again that we would be here and I also knew you’d fight yourself all the way but the day you saw that this was always meant to be, I’d knew you’d melt into me as you always did. There is nothing in my life that I ever wanted more than to give you what I owed you. And with this ring, I thee wed. And with this ring, I will continue to be all you need me to be.”

His skin absorbed the haphazard tear that fell down Robyn’s cheek in between their pressed flesh. His hand smoothed along her expanded waist and across her swollen belly. The warmth of the new life growing inside her was felt through the towel. Their third blessing, unexpected and scary but a blessing nonetheless, moved as Chris’s fingertips gently pressed a pattern against their home. Robyn held onto him tighter as her emotions settled, “how’d you know my favorite parts?”

“They made you cry at our ceremony too.”

“That is very true.”

“The baby is moving.”

“I felt it. The baby always moves when Daddy’s near.”

“You been feeling ok?”

“Yea. I’m not on bed rest this time so I’m a little bit more optimistic this time around.”

Chris leaned back from her face and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Robyn leaned forward and pecked his lips, “this wasn’t supposed to be that emotional.”

“We’ve been married for a year, if I can still draw it out of you then I’m doing something very right.”

Robyn laughed as she kissed him again, “you’ve always been my weakness, Christopher.”

“And you’ve always been my strength. I guess we’re just a perfect match.”

“I’m already pregnant, Sir.”

“And?”

“And you don’t have to keep sweet-talking me like this.”

“But I’ma do it anyway.”

Chris pressed a soft kiss to the middle of her forehead before he rested his chin on top of her head, “you ready for bed?”

“Yea. Can you get a nightshirt for me?”

“Yup. Anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

Chris left into their walk-in closet while Robyn sat back down on the bed.

                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Robyn turned her head as she heard Anesa’s voice heading in her direction. The 4 year old ran into the living room and jumped on the couch next to her mother. Sweetly lying her head against Robyn’s shoulder, “hi Mommy!”

“Hi Baby Girl. What’s going on? You sound so excited.”

“Daddy says we can go with you to find out what the baby is. He says I don’t have to go to school that day”

“Oh. Now me and Daddy didn’t discuss that part.”

“That’s because I didn’t say that part. Right Anesa?”

Robyn chuckled as Chris walked into the living room with Christian asleep in his arms. Anesa tucked her head further into Robyn’s body, “I was just hoping, Daddy.”

“Well Ms. Anesa,” Chris replied as he sat down on the loveseat that was situated perpendicular to the couch Robyn and Anesa was on, “Mommy’s appointment is in the afternoon, after you get out of school so you don’t have to miss school for anything.”

“But what if Mommy is nervous and needs me to take care of her during the day.”

“Mommy will be with Daddy so she’ll be fine.”

Anesa pouted and Chris chuckled, “I love you Lovebug but that face is not gonna change my mind. Now get your bookbag from by the door and take it up to your room.”

“Yes Sir.”

Anesa kissed Robyn’s cheek then left to the front door before running down the hallway. Chris shook his head as he shifted their son into a more comfortable position in his lap, “The little girl is something else.”

“That is all you,” Robyn said with a laugh.

“No, that is you. I didn’t teach her to negotiate like that.”

“You make it sound as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Depends on the circumstances. So how was your day?”

“It was good. We had a board meeting regarding the foundation. Beverly has put me in charge of the fundraising gala since I’m remote and can’t see any patients.”

“She’s really enjoying that promotion.”

“She enjoys making me deal with people.”

Chris laughed, “Baby, you can plan this in your sleep. Don’t be a whiner.”

“I’m pregnant, I’m allowed to whine.”

Chris arched his brow at her and Robyn faked like she was throwing a pillow at him, “Christian being in your lap just saved you.”

“Whatever. You know what you want for dinner?”

“I was gonna make some chicken unless you want something else.”

“I feel like making a Southern meal. How about fried chicken and catfish, hushpuppies, mac and cheese with cornbread?”

“Babe, you’ve been working and cooking for the past week, I can handle it.”

“That is not what I asked you, Mrs. Brown. Does that sound good to you?”

“I’m pregnant, everything sounds good to me but I don’t want you to burn out.”

Chris chuckled as he stood up and walked over to her. Robyn held her arms out to take Christian but Chris shook his head as he moved the baby into the crook of his arm. He leaned down and kissed her lips, “the only thing you have to worry about is that little one you’re carrying. I would ask you to stop working but I think you’d physically fight me before you’d do that.”

“And you would be right.”

“I love you and I can handle this. Let me take care of you, Robyn. Please.”

“Only if you promise to let me take care of you. You can’t forget about yourself during this time, especially not like before. I can still do things within reason. Will you let me sometimes?”

“I can compromise on that.’

“Then I can let you cook dinner tonight but I am cooking this weekend. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chris sighed as he placed the tea bags into the pot of boiling water then grabbed a glass mug out of the overhead cabinet. He’d been restless for the past few weeks. He wasn’t sure if it was paranoia about the pregnancy or this weird feeling of wanderlust he had. The first year they were married the first time, he and Robyn were home for only pockets of time, usually if he had a project to be completed but other than that, they were traveling everywhere. He had settled into a routine once they were divorced, prior to getting Anesa, he took a few sabbaticals, leaves of absence just to get out of the house. That wasn’t able to be the case over the last few years. 

As the brew reached his desired color, he turned off the stove and carefully poured some tea into his mug, squeezed a few drops of honey, a little bit of lemon juice then went to sit on the enlarged window ledge, which was the width of a daybed. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if it was actually wanderlust or just paranoia about being a husband again. They had successfully made it past their first year as a married couple again but there was still a bit of fear of how they would fare going forward. Things started going bad around this time the last time and as much as he didn’t want to think about it, it was hard not to. He took a sip of tea just as he saw Robyn’s reflection in the window. Her rounded belly protrude forward, stretching the thin fabric of her nightshirt. 

“Hey you,” Chris said softly.

Robyn smiled and walked over to him, “you ok?”

“Yea. Can’t sleep.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not sure I’m ready yet.”

“Hmm…”

“Want some tea?”

“Nah, I’m good. You mind some company?”

“Of course not.”

Setting his mug on a nearby side table, Chris helped Robyn to sit down in between his legs. She turned her body to rest into the crook of his left arm, facing the window. They sat in silence for a few minutes as she haphazardly drew circles on the window with her finger.

“You ok?” Chris asked as he rubbed her back. Robyn nodded her head as she continued to stare out the window, “you know you don’t have anything to be afraid of, you’re not the same person you were the first time.”

“How’d-”

“We had our first fight on this date. You walked out and didn’t come home for three days straight. I remember when I found you at the park, looking like you hadn’t washed in days. I wasn’t even sure if you had stayed in a place and just wasn’t sitting at the park for those three days. You were catatonic, seemed traumatized for some reason and you never completely snapped out of it until our last fight when you told me you wanted a divorce. I never understood what happened between the first fight and the last but you were never the same.”

“I honestly don’t remember our first fight. I don’t know if I just really don't remember or I erased it from my memory.”

“Could be a bit of both.”

“Something tells me you’ve never been able to forget it.”

“We said some horrible stuff to each other. I regret it happened.”

“I think that’s why I left, I feel like I traumatized myself.”

“Or it reminded you of a time when you were traumatized by the same circumstances. You never spoke to your therapist about it?’

“I don’t really remember it, I spoke about how we argued then we just stopped talking and how that affected me but I only went into specifics about moments that I could vividly remember. If you hadn’t mentioned finding me in the park I wouldn’t have really known what you were talking about.”

“You remember the park?”

“Yea, I ended up there a lot. I’m not sure what really drew me there, though.”

“When you disappeared, did you actually go to someone’s house or?”

“I was in the park, I used to sit there all day and I really didn’t sleep. I always sat in that hidden alcove that was covered by a lot of overhead trees. People never bothered me there, usually by nighttime, it was hard to see over there. And I would just sit there all day and night. After the first few times, Jessica used to bring me food and a blanket just to make sure I ate. It was never a priority when I got in one of those moods.”

“Explains why when you did finally come home, you’d sleep for hours.”

“My first instinct was to run when I felt uncomfortable or afraid.”

“And you’re getting that feeling now.”

“I remember the beginning of our second year is when things started to go bad. I don’t anticipate that being the case this time.”

“But your body isn’t completely convinced. Your fight or flight instincts are preparing themselves.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Should I pack you a go bag with food and a blanket?”

Chris chuckled, “I appreciate the sentiment but no. I have an appointment with my therapist next week, we’ll discuss it.”

“Chris, I think we should go back to LA.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea. I think it plays such a huge part in our history and we’ve never really addressed it. It’s where everything started for us.”

“That’s true.”

“And I don’t want to sound paranoid but I think there’s some unresolved issues that we left there, that could be contributing to your fear about us being married again. You know as soon as we could, we both just left. We’ve never talked about what made the situation turn out the way it did because it wasn’t just you and your situation with your parents. Things were turning before that, you know.”

“I can admit that. We’d have to wait until the baby is born. I’m not sure I wanna chance it on a plane with you still being pregnant.”

“Oh I know. I understand.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“If we want this marriage to make it past the three year mark, we have to be honest about why the first time we didn't. Who knows what else we’ve blocked out about our relationship especially since neither of us have stepped foot in California since the divorce.”

“Would you mind sitting in on a session with me?”

“Chris, I don’t-”

“I’m not saying you have to participate but I would really like you to be there with me next week. I know you get sensitive about us having our own space but sometimes it’s ok to share.”

Robyn sighed, “I don’t like therapists.”

“I figured that out already.”

“How?”

“Just had a feeling from when we first talked about it. Was your first experience that bad?”

“It was uncomfortable, I probably wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about what I was feeling. I just never felt comfortable with the whole talking to strangers thing.”

“That’s understandable, Baby. I’m not gonna make you go or anything, just promise me that you’ll think about it, ok?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

“You ready to go to bed?”

“Still not sleepy.”

“Ok.”

Robyn kissed the inside of his forearm then snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. Chris gently rubbed her back as he felt her body relax into sleep. 

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Baby, are you ok in there?”

Chris paused to wait for an answer before he rushed back into the bedroom. Robyn was lying back on the bed with her hands cupping the underside of her belly.

“Are you ok? What’s the matter?”

“I’m ok. It’s just the extra weight gets to me sometimes. I’m fine.”

“Stand up in front of me. Let me try something.”

Robyn sighed then pushed herself to a sitting position. She took Chris’s outstretched hand to pull herself up off the bed. He led her to stand in front of him then settled his hands underneath her belly, “take a deep breath and I’m gonna gently lift for a few moments, ok?”

“Ok.”

Robyn took in a breath as Chris lifted her belly in his hands. She leaned her head back against his shoulder in relief, “Oh My God, this is perfect.”

Chris chuckled softly as he kissed her temple, “you are too much.”

“No, this feels amazing, I swear.”

Chris gently let her belly down and Robyn groaned, “I’ll do it again later but we have to get out of here if we’re gonna make it to the appointment on time.”

“Does your doctor know that I’m coming?’

“Yes, she knows.”

“Does she know I don’t plan on speaking?”

“I told her that like you asked me to.”

“Then we’re on the same page?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Can you slide my shoes over here? I really cannot bend down.”

“I asked if you needed help getting ready and you said you had it.”

“I say a lot of things sometimes, I thought I did have it.”

Chris shook his head as he grabbed her slip ons. He carefully helped her put her feet inside her shoes then grabbed her bookbag off the side chair, “anything else you need?”

“No, we’re good to go.”

Robyn hooked her arm through Chris’s and they left.

“Did she irritate you?” Chris asked as they got into the car. He helped Robyn put on her seatbelt then his own before he turned over the ignition.

“Actually, no. She was ok.”

“You seem a little agitated.”

“I’m fine. I was there to observe and that’s what I did.”

“But?”

“But what?”

“There’s a but in there somewhere.”

“I know you were trying to get me comfortable with therapy but that wasn’t the way to do it.”

“I just wanted you to see what happens since you obviously had a bad experience. I’m not trying to get you into therapy or anything like that. It’s not your thing and I accept that.”

“Ok.”

“There was no agenda involved, I really just wanted you to meet her and see what happens. I promise.”

“Ok. I’m taking you at your word. Whats the plan for the rest of the day?”

“We can do lunch then we have to get ready for your ultrasound appointment.”

“Ooh can we get some food from that taco truck downtown? I really got a taste for Mexican.”

“We can get whatever you want.”

Anesa happily bounced in her chair as they waited into the doctor’s office. They were finally gonna see what kind of baby her mommy was carrying. She was really hoping for a little sister but another brother would be ok too.

“Anesa, Sweetie, you need to relax a little bit. You’re making Mommy nervous,” Robyn said softly from her spot on the examination table. 

Anesa giggled then sat still, “Sorry Mommy, I’m just excited.”

“I know Sweetie but you can be excited and still sit still.”

“Yes Ma’am. Mommy, do you know what you want?”

“I just want a healthy baby, that’s all that matters.”

“Oh ok. Do you feel sick?”

“No, I’m actually doing ok right now. Thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome. Mommy can I sit by you?”

“Of course you can, Sweetie. Be careful sliding the chair over.”

Anesa pushed the chair beside the table and grabbed Robyn’s hand that was hanging over the side. Robyn kissed the back of her hand then gave a slight squeeze as they continued to wait for Chris and the doctor to come back.

Chris stood outside the room with the doctor and Christian in his arms, “is there anything I might need to give her a heads up about before we go back in there?”

“Nothing bad, Mr. Brown. I think you’ll both be pleasantly surprised.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

The doctor held open the door  then followed Chris and Christian inside. Chris sat down in the chair that was situated against the wall as the doctor sat in his rolling office chair.

“Ok Mrs. Brown, you can sit up now. I just needed to get another set of eyes for your ultrasound.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, it’s very good news.”

“So what is it?”

“You’re having twins.”

“What?”

“You’re having twins. They appear to be fraternal, one boy and one girl.”

“Wait, is that safe? Can I even-”

“Yes, it appears that everything is normal. I am in contact with your neurologist and such so we will keep an eye on the possibility of any complications but as of right now, your babies are healthy and normal.”

“Can we have a copy of the photo?” Chris asked.

“Absolutely. I’m gonna write up your prenatal recommendations and get some copies then you can be on your way.”

The doctor left the room and Chris turned to look at Robyn. She was holding her stomach with her free hand.

“Baby, are you ok?”

“Daddy, I think Mommy’s in shock,” Anesa said softly, “she’s squeezing my hand really tight.”

Chris set Christian in his stroller then walked over to Robyn and gently pulled Anesa’s hand out of her tight grip, “Baby, can you hear me? Are you ok?”

Robyn still didn’t speak but Chris noticed her chest was starting to heave.

“Damn it, she’s having an anxiety attack,” he murmured to himself, “Anesa, give Daddy Mommy’s bookbag.”

Anesa handed him the black bag and Chris carefully rummaged through it until he had her inhaler in hand. He shook it vigorously before holding it up to her lips, “Robyn, I need you to breathe for me, Baby. You’re making me nervous.”

He pushed the inhaler between her lips and pushed down on the pump twice. Robyn sucked in the air and Chris carefully rubbed her back, “good job. Now just take a few deep breaths for me, ok?”

Her chest gently moved up then down. After a few minutes, her body seemed back in control but she was still not speaking.

“Robyn, can you hear me? Are you ok?”

She nodded her head and Chris sighed, “Robyn, I’m going to get the doctor and we’ll go home. Will you be ok by yourself for a few moments?”

She nodded her head. Chris kissed her cheek then left out of the office door. Anesa moved to grab her hand again and kissed the back of it, “it’s gonna be ok, Mommy. You don’t have to be scared.”

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s gonna be ok, Mommy. You don’t have to be scared.”

Anesa’s voice kept floating in and out of Robyn’s head as she felt the oxygen mask be placed over her face. She looked to her left and Chris was standing there covered in hospital scrubs. She looked to her right and her doctor along with two nurses were prepping two infant carts. She was really about to give birth to twins. She squeezed Chris’s hand and he smiled down at her, “Baby, they’re almost here. I am so proud of you.”

Chris wiped the tear that had fallen down her cheek then gave her a kiss. Robyn looked down at her belly, it was covered by a partition. She had agreed to a c-section and subsequent tubal ligation just for safety purposes. They felt it was safer to do a c-section to minimize the stress on her body and prevent the possibility of a seizure. She still felt like she was sitting in her OB-GYN’s office, just hearing that she was having twins. It felt like yesterday, the final trimester of her pregnancy moving so fast she barely remembered it. But now, now she’s giving birth and she’s gonna get to hold her precious babies. She closed her eyes and started to recite a prayer. She just wanted her babies to live, anything she’d deal with it as it came but just let her babies make it.

“Ok family, here’s baby number 1. And it is a boy!” The doctor exclaimed.

Robyn’s eyes popped open just as the nurse lifted him above the partition. He wasn’t too big but he wasn’t small either. Chris moved to cut the umbilical cord before the nurse moved the infant over to a waiting cart. The next few minutes felt like hours before the second baby was held up for view. Her skin was already a light caramel color and she looked like she weighed just as much as her brother. Chris cut her cord then followed the nurse as she moved their daughter into her separate cart. Robyn watched as Chris took a few pictures before he removed both pairs of gloves and came back to grasp her hands, “Our babies are beautiful and healthy, Robs. We did it.”

She nodded her head in agreement as Chris kissed her lips. 

They did it!

[holdmyowos]

Todoroki Family Reunion

A story about Dabi before he revealed himself to Endeavor.

There are two bad words so keep that in mind. Mild violence and action.

—————————————————————————

It was nearly Christmas. Fresh snow littered the ground around the houses, with little flakes of snow flittering downwards to join it's brethren on the earth.

Dabi stood outside the Todoroki household. Or, at least, where he thought the Todoroki's lived. He hadn't kept track of the family very well. Why should he? He hadn't thought he'd ever be paying them a visit, that's for sure. Not that he cared much about them. He had heard that Enji hardly ever was home, even during Christmas. That would make this reunion a lot easier.

"Come on Dabi! Hurry up. You promised me you would do this," Toga whined. Dabi rolled his eyes. "Uh, yea, with a knife at my throat... seriously Toga, sometimes you are a bit more than crazy. Besides, my social life is none of your business. How did you drag me here again?" The blond just gave him a wide smile. "You need to talk with them. It isn't their fault for what your dad did." Dad. The word sent chills down Dabi's spine. "My fath-..." He couldn't even bring himself to say that word. "Endeavor is no family to me. We both made that painfully clear the night I left that godforsaken house." He was lost in thought, of another time and another place. "Snap out of it or else I'll knock on the door myself." Toga backed into the shadows in front of the home, hiding herself from view.

He exhaled, his breath forming icy crystals in the air. It reminded him of his mom, and her ice quirk. In the freezing cold, he softly knocked on the door. A few seconds passed. Dabi turned around, starting to leave. "Oh well. Looks like they aren't here. Too bad guess we-" "Nuh-unh! Knock harder!" Toga shoved him back to the door. He sighed, and knocked harder. Another few seconds ticked by.  Dabi shuffled his  feet in the snow. He started feeling some anxiety. What if this was the wrong house? He didn't exactly have the best reputation. What if a hero lived here and saw him, the infamous Dabi from the League of Villains? Or worse, if Enji really was there?

The door opened and revealed a boy. He was a tall, teenage boy, with his hair split down the middle, two different colors. He had a burn down around one of his eyes. "Anything I can help you wi-?" The boy stared down at Dabi, noticing his burnt skin and tattered clothes. "It's a choice, kid," Dabi said, acknowledging his gaze. "Anyway, wrong address." Dabi turned around to leave, and Toga sighed from the shadows. A male voice behind the boy called out. "Who was that at the door?" Dabi kept walking away. "No one. Wrong address." The teen started closing the door. "Shoto? Natsuo? What's going on?" Dabi stopped in his tracks. That was his sister's voice, and his brother's name. He turned around, and knocked on the door again. Shoto, was that his name? He being there had thrown Dabi off, and he was surprised that even hero students got Christmas break. They had a few run ins with each other, but it was obvious that Shoto had not recognized him. Also, Dabi had never connected the strong U.A. student with his little brother, Enji's 'chosen child'. The more he thought about it, the more sense it had made. If he was a U.A. student, did that mean Shoto was trying to follow in Enji's footsteps? Dabi took a step away from the door. This family had him feeling all kinds of conflicted emotions. He decided he was going to leave when the door swung open.

Fuyumi come out of the door this time. "Let me guess, still wrong address?" She joked. "Still trying to decide," Dabi responded truthfully. Toga gave Dabi a thumbs up. "You seem familiar. Were we classmates or something?" Fuyumi questioned, tilting her head. "Something like that," Dabi replied, shivering. The young woman gasped. Dabi was sure she had figured out who he was, but he was wrong. "Where are my manners making you stand out there in the cold? Come on in." She stood aside for him to pass, motioning her hands for him to go inside. Reluctantly, he passed the threshold. Natsuo entered the room. "Excuse me, I have to borrow my sister here." He gave an apologetic smile towards Dabi, walking ushering her out of the room. As she was going, she called, "Please sit down, when I get back I'll have some tea for you!"

Dabi looked around. What a big, fancy, rich house. He couldn't  believe he used to live somewhere like this. The two in the other room started talking. Dabi overheard their 'private' conversation. "Fuyumi, what are you doing? You can't just go letting homeless people into our house! He'll steal stuff, and then he won't leave!" Dabi snickered. He didn't look that bad, did he? "I think he's a friend from elementary school," she replied. "Look, guys like him spell trouble for people like us. I know it's near Christmas, but really?" He stomped away angrily.

Dabi bent down and looked at a photo on an ornate dresser. It was the whole Todoroki family, all smiling. Enji, Mom, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto, and Toya Todoroki. That was from a long time ago. Dabi pointed to Toya. His hair color was different back then. How things had changed. Why did he care? That whole photo was staged. Enji would have never allowed Shoto near the rest of the family.

Fuyumi entered the room with a tray of tea, looking slightly more wary of Dabi than before. "That's our older brother, Toya," she said, sadness filling her voice. "What happened to him?" Dabi had to ask. "One day he just... left. He was tired of... of the way our father treated us." She lowered her volume. "I think my father and him may have fought and, well, honestly Natsuo thinks... he thinks father may have burned him to death. And to be honest, I wouldn't put it past him. I mean if you were my childhood friend, I'm sure you already knew that. Anyway, such a bad thing to talk about with my guest! What brings you here?" "Umm..." Dabi struggled for a reason. "Just wondering..." Shoto walked in the room. Dabi's heart started pounding. Shoto looked at Dabi as if observing him, from head to toe. Hopefully, he won't recognize me, Dabi thought. "What ever happened to Mom?" Shoto tilted his head. "Who's mom?" He inquired. "O-oh your mom. That's her in the picture, right?" Dabi regretted coming here. They would find out who he was, and who he'd become, and hate him. Damn Toga!

"What did you say your name was again?" Shoto asked , catching on. "Actually, I never said." Dabi snapped back, standing up and spilling the tea Fuyumi had brought. "And I think I will be going now." The tension in the room was high. "Wait. I think I do know you." Shoto grabbed Dabi's arm in a quick action, knocking over the family picture, scattering glass all over the carpet. "Natsuo! He's with the villains! Help!" He shouted. Crap. He started trying to freeze Dabi in place, but Dabi jumped away from Shoto just in time. "What's got in on? Shoto why are you attacking him? He hasn't done anything wrong! Quit it he's my guest!" Fuyumi grabbed her brother Shoto, hugging him tight so he couldn't use his powers without accidentally getting her too. He apparently didn't have to hurt her, and used his ice powers anyway, shooting ice from his fingertips, freezing Dabi's leg. Natsuo showed up. There were too many people here. In a panic, Dabi shouted, "Toga!" And shot flames from his fingertips, melting the ice. Suddenly, the world was still. Everyone was silent. Except for Shoto, who was struggling against Fuyumi. She must have been really strong to keep that boy at bay. "What's wrong with you? He's a villain! He's Dabi, and he work with Toga, and Tomura Shigaraki, and the rest of the League of Villains! Don't just stand there Natsuo, help me!" He shouted. Instead, Natsuo helped Fuyumi restrain Shoto. Dabi backed away, towards the door. Blue flames still danced on his fingertips. "Back off, Shoto. Don't you know who that is? Look at his quirk for heaven's sake! His burns!"

Shoto's eyes widened in understanding, and he stopped wrestling with his siblings. Fuyumi reached out to Dabi and held his burnt arm. "T-Toya? I-is- could it possibly truly be you? What happened?" Dabi shrugged her hand off. "Enji made me like this. You thought he killed me? Well, he only killed the good half. The proof is written in my skin." Dabi opened the door, fire blazing around him, little bursts of blue anger and sadness, and slammed the door shut. "Come on Toga, let's get out of here." Dabi took off down the alleyway, happy for the snow, the small flakes cooling himself off. When Dabi was a safe distance from the house, he waited for Toga to catch up. "So, maybe not the best family reunion, but you tried, right?" Dabi walked by her side silently. Yea, I tried.

[agirlinjapan]

Red Data Girl: Ice Shoes, Glass Shoes (Story 1- Week 1)

Red Data Girl: Ice Shoes, Glass Shoes By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

I’m back! As you know, I finished translating the original 6 books in the Red Data Girl series a few months ago. While I was in the process of translating them, Noriko Ogiwara published another book in the series, Ice Shoes, Glass Shoes!

Unlike the original six books though, this book is a collection of short stories that take place throughout the series as opposed to a continuation of RDG itself. There are four stories in total with an afterward at the end. The first three are from Miyuki’s point of view while the last is from Mayura’s.

My translation schedule for this book will be a little different from the previous books. Each story is broken up into three or so pieces, sort of like the RDG chapters were except that each piece is only a few pages long. (That makes sense, seeing as they’re short stories.) Each time I finish translating one of the stories, I’ll start posting it piece by piece on a weekly posting schedule. That means that I’ll post three or so weeks in a row, but then I might not post again for a while depending on how quickly I can get the next story out.

Right now, I’m on winter break, and I’m hoping to get a decent amount of translation done which will speed up the process.

Today I’m posting the first part of the first story in the book, The Puppet Show, which follows Miyuki as he gets used to life at Awatani Middle School back in RDG 1.

I hope you enjoy this new installation in the series!

Red Data Girl: Ice Shoes, Glass Shoes By Noriko Ogiwara Story One: The Puppet Show- Miyuki Sagara- Third Year of Middle School- Start of Summer Part 1

Mt. Tamakura lay in the heart of a mountain range in the middle of the Kii Peninsula. By now, he had mostly gotten used to life at Tamakura Shrine which was at the top of that mountain. He had always been highly adaptable.

He woke up to bird songs coming from deep in the mountain’s forest. It was like living in a fairyland. It really wasn’t that bad.

It’s been such a pain to have hurt my dominant hand.

Miyuki Sagara stretched, looking gratefully at his now healed right arm that had previously suffered from a fracture. It had been driving him crazy to do nothing for the better part of half a month. Every time his arm had started to hurt, he had thought of the person responsible for the injury and how it had happened. Thinking about it always made him furious.

I know Yukimasa looked like he regretted it… for a second at least.

Miyuki wondered if his father’s pride had suffered a blow from what had happened, but he doubted it. Miyuki might have been in his third year of middle school now, but he didn’t understand his father at all. Still, as painful as the incident had been, it wasn’t as if Yukimasa had intended to break his son’s arm. If he had done a better job making Miyuki yield, things would certainly not have gotten so serious.

Thinking of this now, at least Miyuki could take comfort in the fact that he was most definitely healed. However, he was still hoping for the chance to go up against Yukimasa again at some point. On the day when it had all happened, his father hadn’t had the luxury of being able to hold back against him. That meant Miyuki’s skills were growing.

Moving as quickly as he could, Miyuki put away his futon and washed his face. The pilgrims’ lodging at Tamakura Shrine was an old, Japanese style building which meant there wasn’t much furniture and the bathroom facilities were also unfortunately modest. With that said, Miyuki still much preferred living in the old building to the arrangement he had had up until a few days prior—having the Suzuhara’s very thorough housekeeper, Sawa, take care of him while he was staying in their home. He was used to taking care of himself, after all. That’s the way things had been since he had been in elementary school.

After his mother had divorced his father and moved out of the house.

I don’t dislike Sawa. I mean, her cooking’s way better than just eating food from the convenience store.

The fervor with which Sawa Suemori had taken care of him had felt a lot like a mother, Miyuki thought. He supposed the reason why that made him feel uncomfortable was that if he were to get used to it, it would be hard to go back to being on his own again afterwards.

He didn’t change into the middle school uniform on the hanger right away. Instead, he changed into a kendo shirt and hakama pants. They were the clothes he was borrowing to practice traditional martial arts in. Seeing as he was staying at a Shinto shrine though, the outfit wasn’t out of place when he walked around the grounds in it. Before Shingo Nonomura, put on his dark business suit which he wore while acting as the shrine’s driver, he cleaned the shrine’s grounds, dressed in the same hakama outfit as well.

It seemed to Miyuki that the people working at the shrine were always cleaning. They had never once asked him to help, but seeing as they were letting him live there, it felt natural that he should.

Silent Mr. Nonomura gave no instructions, nor did he refuse the help. He simply carried on with what needed to be done without a word. Miyuki stayed nearby, saw what he was doing, and did the same.

Looking at Mr. Nonomura, I get the feeling that he’s an ascetic monk too…

There was no reason for cleaning the shrine except to clean it. All the same, from seeing the way Mr. Nonomura moved his strong shoulder so efficiently, it was easy to see that those movements had been honed by something.

Mr. Nonomura was a tall man, sturdily built like a boulder. Once, there had been a fallen tree across Mt. Tamakura’s only road which stopped traffic half way up. Upon encountering it, Mr. Nonomura had gotten out of the car to investigate. Miyuki and Izumiko Suzuhara, who had been sitting in the backseat on their way home to the shrine, had watched him move the tree out of the way all by himself. Miyuki had been amazed. Mr. Nonomura possessed the superhuman strength of a wrestler.

Seeing as Izumiko hadn’t been surprised by the feat, Miyuki had to assume this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. To Miyuki, however, Mr. Nonomura didn’t seem like any driver he’d ever met before.

How did a person like him end up driving us back and forth from school?...

Not only had Mr. Nonomura looked after Miyuki while his wounds had been healing, but he had asked him if he wanted to learn traditional martial arts. Now that Miyuki, to his relief, was healed enough to use a bamboo staff, he had gratefully accepted the offer.

Obviously, I didn’t exercise enough at Keibun Academy.

He hadn’t meant to neglect his fitness, but seeing as the academy had been one of the country’s leading high school prep schools, he had learned to put his studies first, even now. Yukimasa had never approved of that.

~*~

As they cleaned, Mr. Nonomura raised his head and said, “It’s time for breakfast, Miyuki. Go on.”

Mr. Nonomura was not wearing a watch, but seemed like he could tell the time from the way the sunlight was hitting the treetops. Miyuki gave a word of thanks and went back to his lodging to change into his school uniform before going to the Suzuhara house. He had grown quite hungry as time had passed and, more than anything else, he was grateful to be receiving a hot meal. While he had no plans of offering anyone in the house a friendly smile as he ate, he admittedly had grown fond of Sawa and the Suzuhara family during his stay.

“Good morning, Sawa.”

Sawa had come out to greet him. Satisfied that he had arrived, she disappeared behind Takeomi, the head of the shrine, and asked Miyuki to follow her into the living room. Takeomi’s granddaughter, Izumiko, was already waiting at the table as she always was.

“Good morning, Izumiko.”

The moment he spoke, the girl with her hair done up in two long braids flinched. Every morning, no matter how friendly he tried to sound, the same thing happened. It was like she was trying to hide from him. She would eventually answer him without any trouble, but it would be after an unnaturally long pause which she didn’t seem to notice.

“...good morning.”

I’m going to ignore that.

Lately, Miyuki had come to realize that there would be no getting around exchanges like these. He was getting tired of the girl ruining his mornings that began so well.

I’ve been here for more than half a month now, but she still hasn’t gotten used to me. I scare her each time she sees me.

With his mood entirely changed, he found himself thinking that it was somewhat strange that Izumiko reacted to him the same way each morning. Maybe she was stupid. No. It was because when he had first arrived, his wounds had been healing, and he had still been weak, he had lashed out at her without meaning to.

I wasn’t myself when I was acting like that. She’s an idiot if she can’t figure that out. If she keeps treating me this way, I’m going to want to be mean to her even when there’s no reason for me to. Doesn’t she get that?

He didn’t like the fact that at this point, she really must not have liked him at all. He had never been disliked by a girl who he had seen smile so often and that made him like the feeling even less.

He was getting worked up over this again without even thinking about it. He doubted Izumiko Suzuhara had ever once practiced asceticism or cleaned the shrine while she had been living here. She had been coddled by the people who had raised her and she had probably never picked up anything heavier than a pair of chopsticks.

However, this was not the time to voice these opinions. Miyuki, who was good at reading the moods of the people around him, knew that much. So, he minded his own business, and took advantage of the food in front of him. While Takeomi and Sawa were in the room, he would act like he and Izumiko got along. Then he would ignore her like usual when they got to school.

Every time I see her, I just want to be mean so I have no choice but to ignore her. I’ve never met a girl as serious as she is. That makes it so much easier to ignore her.”

---------

Keep reading!

[jinniesmeow]

good evening. this is a very long rant. if you’ve been tagged in this, it means I have a message for you :’) it’s at the bottom of the post, and that’s the most important part, so dear mutuals, feel free to just go read that part and don’t feel forced to read all that bullcrap I've written. thank you if you do, thank you if you don’t. 

if we’re not mutuals and you’re reading this, well I guess thank you because this is hella long and cliché af. I'm sorry to everyone for this. though it kinda has nothing to do with what I'm saying, I was feeling particularly gay tonight and I'm in my feelings right now so yeah. if you’re willing to read, just click, you know how that works. 

first of all, hello. thank you if you’re reading this, whether we’re mutuals or not, this isn’t a private post so if you’re reading this, hello to you, I hope you’re having a wonderful night or day and I guess sorry for what you’re about to read if it’s considered TMI. I don’t know everyone on here so I'll start with the basics. I’m zia, aka users jinniesmeow, yunholy, hwangitzy and very recently yuzukhei. I'm (almost) 19, and in case you didn’t know, I'm French. and Italian, fortunately or not, idk. 100% European and white anyway, and my ancestors were all 100% racist and homophobic (I mean Poland and Italy? come on.). My sister, who’s turning 23 this year (she’s not on Tumblr), and myself are the first generation in my family to be queer on whichever side of it it is you’re looking at. 

Indeed, (if you didn’t know somehow, now you do) both her and I are pansexual. thankfully, our mom is far from being homophobic and racist and she’s a very open minded person, like really. neither of us have ever had a coming out, and none of us plan on doing it. I totally understand the necessity for some people to come out to their relatives and all that, but here’s why I personally refuse to do it: I don’t get why I have to tell people I'm not straight. I think it only fuels the fact that being straight is seen as the norm, because do straight people ever announce they are straight? exactly. being queer (gay, lesbian, pan, ace, whatever) is not abnormal, it’s not unnatural, so I refuse to have to scream it to everyone, and I don’t mean by that that I'm trying to hide my queerness, because I'm very open and honest about it, and I always have been. I hope one day, we won’t need to come out anymore and that people will stop assuming our sexuality. until then, I'll let people get flustered whenever I imply that I'm not straight without having ever stated it clearly before because fuck that shit. 

anygays. so, like I said, I've always been very open and honest about my romantic and sexual orientation. I know lots of bi/pan people “realise” they are queer when they’re a bit older, during their teenage years or early adulthood, but (un)fortunately I am not one of those. I have literally always known I liked girls too (in the first place, I mean). actually, I’ve always thought attraction and romance were about the person, like, I mean it was an evidence to me ever since I was a child, and how can I explain that I got slapped in the face when I discovered that it was not a universal thing, that it was not “the truth”. so there I was, in the middle of elementary school, openly saying I liked girls in front of everyone because I thought it was normal. I mean, it is, but you get what I mean. 

on top of that, the term “pansexual” has been occulted and invalidated for years, and most people didn’t even know of it until like maybe 3 years ago. remember, I'm 19, and there I was in middle school at 13 years old telling people I was pansexual when they’d barely even heard of bisexuality (while everyone else was like ‘I'm straight!! ew the gays’ btw). honestly, I cannot count how many times I've been called a pedophile, a necrophile and zoophile. by my very own friends, yes. 

same with high school, but I'm not going to repeat myself. just for the precision: no, I have never been physically or mentally bullied for that, however, I was mocked a lot because of how tall I am (I was 1m73/5′7 at 14) and because I can be quite androgynous since I don’t have big boobs. I have large hips though, so those fucking males didn’t miss the chance to pick on me for that too. obviously though if I've never been full on bullied it’s because: 1. I've always had friends and I've never been a ‘loner nerd’, 2. I was tall and intimidating, 3. I was respected for my intelligence and grades and wasn’t being full of myself about being a top student, and 4. because I was neither fat nor a person of colour, obviously, and those are privileges I'm very aware of. I have still been called a ‘woman with a dick’ and other transphobic shit and was often treated as if I were a boy, though. 

I still identify as a girl. I have been so, so complexed about so many things about my physical appearance for so long, I can’t count how many hours I have spent looking at my naked reflection in the mirror, feeling disgusted, wishing I had bigger boobs and that I would “look more like a girl” and so on. how much I have hated my body is something I can’t even measure. as of today, I've realised there is no such thing as “looking like a girl” and I've made a lot of progress on liking my overall appearance and accepting my body, sometimes I even think I'm hot™ and definitely think men don’t deserve me but for some fucking reason I can’t choose my sexuality (crazy right) and I still am attracted both romantically and sexually to them :/ 

anyways. now you know how long I've known that I'm a pansexual and throughout all these years, every time someone talked about the community or when pride came, no one mentioned us pansexuals, and I've seen us being invalidated so many times I really started doubting myself. I was like, “it’s like being bisexual, I'm just being butthurt and pushing it too far” but at the same time I never stopped calling myself pansexual. to some people, it’s just a preference in the choice of words to say you’re bi or pan, but to me there is a difference, even if it’s the smallest ever, and yes. being bi and being pan are “basically the same thing” and both orientations are very close but that very difference means everything to me. I am attracted to people, romantically and sexually, regardless of their gender. that is exactly it. and it’s very important to me.

I'm sorry if this is a mess, it’s hard to say things in the right order when I have so much to say, but I'm going to go back to what I was saying in the beginning about my family. I talked about my mom. my parents have been separated since I was 6 and haven’t spoken to each other in like 12 years btw. so, as for my dad, I know he wouldn’t care. he’s not homophobic, not racist. he does say homophobic and racist things sometimes, without realising it, like a lot of people do, and that doesn’t make him a homophobe. I know he doesn’t care if I'm gay, and I feel good just knowing that. however, remember, my family is italian. everyone around us is 100% straight (except for my cousins, I'm pretty sure one of them is bi-curious and the other is ace, but they aren’t open about this at all and have probably never questioned their sexuality lmao) and then there are my sister and I in the middle of it, and we’re like “yup, we’re the gay cousins”. the italian side of my family is huge. like really, my father has a total of 24 cousins (and I don’t mean the little ones and all that, I mean first degree cousins), so imagine how many of us there are in total when you’re counting everyone’s kids, spouses, grandkids and great-grandkids (you read that well, some of his cousins are old, some are even deceased). and they’re italian. and 100% into their religious set of mind that has them believe their god forbids being gay and that we’ll burn in hell. whatever, would’ve been going there anyway, gay or not so it’s not like I care, all the more reasons to be a fag. 

and yes I have proof they are racist and homophobic, I've heard the things they’ve said. so, I, whomst has had depression for basically all her life and also has every existing form of anxiety there is, don’t exactly feel comfortable around these people. and on top of being gay, I listen to “Ching Chong music”!!! how do I have to put into words that I know exactly what they think of me? I even have blue hair now so like, blending in even less than before. so yeah. 

to add on to that feeling of worthlessness, when I entered high school, I was still a top student without doing any type of work whatsoever, but then depression got the best of me (like for real this time how am I even still alive tbh) and I fell so hard I could barely stand going to school anymore. my last two years of high school (it lasts 3 years in France) have been disastrous. I barely attended and could barely manage keeping my grades above average, because I had zeros on 99% of my homework since I never did it. still had good enough grades on tests though, and it saved my ass. 

honestly, I don’t even want to talk about these years and how I was feeling, because it’s still too fresh for me and I'm stil trying (yes, trying) to heal from it. I can say without a doubt that they were some of the worst years of my life though. however final exams came and my ass managed to get a really good grade without revising anything, this way I could send a big, huge, fuck off to my teachers who had been shitting in my face for years and making me feel like the hugest shit on earth. I hope they choke on their jealousy. then I went to uni for about three months, where I majored in English, but eventually decided to stop because I couldn’t go a day without having a panic attack on the train, because I still couldn’t get my ass to do any work, because I was bored out of my mind and just when I had started feeling better after leaving high school I was sinking further down. I spent months staying home without seeing anyone but my mom and doing nothing but watching Netflix (the French catalogue isn’t as interesting as the American one btw). then, I finally found the guts to go see a therapist. not gonna say it was a mistake, but I'm glad I stopped because this bitch was just here to take my money. I took antidepressants for a few months, and I have stopped really recently, actually. in all honesty, I have gotten much better, thanks to my own doing, I've worked so hard on getting better and I'm proud of how far I've come. 

today, I can finally say for the first time ever in my life that I am proud of who I am. 

the whole point of saying all of this shit you have (maybe) read is not because I want people to give attention to me or anything like, I don’t want pity or anything and truly don’t think there are any reasons for people to feel any pity towards me. I'm saying this because I want to thank the people around me for just existing, for supporting me, for making me feel validated. because you might not realise it, but (a lot of) you are often talking about your problems, and it makes me realise that I'm not the only one feeling this kind of way. it makes me realise there are people who might understand me, even just a little. and when I see you talking about your sexual/romantic orientation (or lack of so) it also makes me feel accepted. I see you guys reblog such validating things, and then some of you even have pride flags in your layouts, and you have no idea how my heart feels about it. if you weren’t aware, I'm a twitter person. I've spent so much time on there, I have met lots of people, lots of which are part of the community and openly supporting it, and yet I have never felt more validated than since I've been on here. 

I've also met the people I consider “the most” as my internet best friends on here, like my best best internet friends, if that makes sense lmao, and not actually on twitter (although I might be pushing it because I have actually gone from IVL to IRL with most of them so like... whatever.) point is: I have met amazing friends I'm so thankful for on here. and all the people I see in my dash, to all of you, thanks for everything too even if we don’t really talk and if we haven’t had actual discussions before. now if you want to, you can always come to me to talk about whatever the fuck you want. 

so, here, I want to thank all of you, because today I'm finally starting to think maybe, just maybe, that I want to keep on living and that good things might happen to me. I have no plans for the future, since I never imagined myself getting this far in life, but I'm still willing to give it a try. 

please, if after you’re reading this, you’re thinking about telling me cliché things about staying strong and all that, I'm going to ask you not to do it. it just feels like pity to me. or choose your words wisely, I'm begging you, because I can’t stand thinking anyone would pity me. please don’t feel like that, that’s not the point of this.

I'm doing this as a thank you, and as a message to everyone out there who’s read this. I hope my words mean something to you. maybe help you? it’s ok to be confused about who you are. it’s ok not to like yourself, it takes so much work to get better and all that, but just know that you can do it, it is possible to do it. it takes time, it will hurt, but it’s an option. it’s not impossible. 

now. I have some people I want to send a quick message to. I guess some of you will be surprised, but just read what I have to say please, and know that from the bottom of my heart, I mean it.

@hwangwhatjin Emily. I don’t even know where to start, and soon I won’t even be able to see what I'm typing anymore because the tears I've been fighting while writing all this crap have started flowing all of a sudden the second I typed your name. you’re the first friend I made on here. we started off nothing, and I was a no one, and yet you still talked to me and all that. you’re honestly one of the most tolerant and kind people I have ever met in my life. you’re the exact opposite of prejudiced, you’re so open minded, so not giving a shit about other people’s quirks (I mean it in the right way) that don’t concern you directly, like people are who they are and you don’t give a damn about it, it’s amazing. I know this doesn’t sound like a compliment, but I can’t find the right way to put this. you’ve also always been there to listen to me whenever I wanted you to, and you have never judged me once. you have no idea how thankful I am for having you in my life. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else hold the title of bro. I love you so, so much, and I'm sorry we haven’t been talking lately. I hope I can help you just like you’ve helped me and support you as much as you need me to in the future, and I want you to know I'll always be there for you, I'll never let you down. you have no idea how much I can’t wait to meet you so I can wrap you in a blanket and give you hot chocolate while I light up a gingerbread scented candle (yes, I remember) and put on some blink-182 and stroke your hair because it’s what you deserve. you’re one of my best friends, like ever, and it’s such a pain we’re so far from each other, fuck this damn channel. one day I'll just swim to you to hear your wonderful accent you say you hate so much. anything to see you. I'm sorry I'm so old, I wish it were less of a problem, but as you grow up this gap will be less and less of an obstacle, so let’s just be patient, yeah? I love you, bro. roach bros to the end of the line.

@pikachulein Laura. ok. where do I start and how do I stop my eyes from sweating so much. you know, I'm just gonna say it. in my opinion, soulmates aren’t the people we’re especially meant to be with in a romantic way, and we might even have several of them. I just think they’re people who just bring you so much, and people who are like another version of you, but different. kind of like I described in my Felix au, actually. when I call you my soulmate, I really mean it, because I'd never thought I'd meet someone who understands me so well because they relate so much, someone who basically shares the same mind because hell, when have we ever had different thoughts on something like... it will never cease to amaze me. it’s only been a few months since we’ve known each other, but I actually think you’re one of my closest friends. hell, on the day we meet, because I'm not taking no for an answer, I don’t even know how I'll be holding up like, I won’t know how to act. so in advance, I'm sorry if I'm so weird at first. you’ve listened to the story of my whole life and you’ve shared your experience back, and you have no idea how thankful I am for that. maybe you haven’t realised, but you’ve been of a huge help to me. thank you for being so understanding, for not judging me, for being so open about everything with me, thank god I have someone with whom I can talk about literally any subject without it feeling uncomfortable or like i’m being judged. I have so many things to say I can’t even find the words, honestly. I’m just so thankful that you exist and that I have you in my life, and that you actually like me as a person too. thanks so much. you’re my best bitch, together we’re the baddest bitches of the pan squad and I can’t wait to travel across Europe with you for real. the world ain’t ready for us. 

@hanniesunshine Isabel. you’re just the biggest ray of sunshine ever. everything about you is so pure I'm even scared to be one of the people you talk to because I feel like you don’t deserve to talk to me (I mean like you deserve much better than me) and that I'm way too filthy for you. you’re always so good and kind to me, so, so supportive, and I can’t even thank you enough for that. honestly, every time I see you somewhere, kakaotalk, WhatsApp, Tumblr, I just can’t help but smile because you’re the purest and brightest being the earth has ever seen and I can’t believe you would actually want to talk to someone like me. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm so sorry for being such a cold bitch (and for using this word) sometimes, and for almost never finding the right words. thanks for always being so eager about reading my content. I'll keep supporting you, and I'll do better in everything!! I love you, so, so much. I'll always be there for you if you need me or want me. 

@sleepyracha Marie. I'm so, so sorry I'm so inconsistent and that I don’t talk to you as much as I used to, I hope we’re still okay. I just want to thank you for being the open minded person you’ve shown me you are and for supporting me all the time, and for very interesting conversations about literally anything. I promise I'm learning Spanish and that soon we’ll be able to talk together in another language than English. I hope you’re doing well and that you know I'm always there for you, and if Tumblr isn’t the best place for you, tell me where you want me to be for you. congrats on passing this year, you’re someone amazing and you’re so chill, it feels so good to see someone like that. thank you for even talking to me in the first place, thank you so much and I love you. 

@lesbianbias Nina. you’re such a soft and pure person, I'm so glad you were my skz anon and that I got to meet a wonderful person like you. you’re always showering me with love, and I always feel like I don’t deserve it. thanks so much for all the support, please, please never change. I love you and you’re amazing. thank you for being so chill as well. I'll make sure I'll return that love to you. 

@xiaocity siya. thank you so much for listening to me, you know what I'm referring to. I know you’re one of those who really deeply understands me and I'm thankful we got to talk, even just a bit. I'm always there if you need me, thank you for supporting me and my works, and be more confident in your writing, it’s good!! I think we actually have a lot in common too, so if you ever feel like talking, feel free to drop by in my dms.

@littlefallenrebel Sophie. we haven’t talked that much, but I feel like we should talk more. we have a lot more in common than we think, I'm sure of it. thank you for being you, thank you for the messages you’ve been spreading with your posts and reblogs. you’re an amazing person and I'm happy you’re my mutual because you’re a truly good person. 

@visualgiggles sam. thank you for your reblogs, whatever they’re about they never fail to cheer me up, whether they’re about tolerance or just memes, even the latter help me regain faith in humanity. we haven’t talked that much but I would gladly talk some more with you if you ever wanted to. you’re a wonderful person and I'm thankful you’re my mutual. 

@dreamypansexual I don’t think we’ve ever talked, I'm not even sure I know your name so I don’t want to say something wrong. but that doesn’t matter, because you’re still one of the people who make me feel the most validated here. hell, you literally have a pan flag as your layout (your user... I mean yeah). your posts are always making me feel so much better because it proves me that there are still such tolerant and open people out there, so thank you. 

@cloudyyboii honestly, I think it’s kind of the same as with your friend right above between me and you. it doesn’t matter though, thanks for the validation and the tolerance you’re spreading around. love you. 

@jxsng Kylie. I don’t think we’ve ever had a private conversation, but whatever. you’ve shown me lots of supports in every other way and you’re such a sweet and open person, I'm thankful you’re my mutual. I feel small next to people like you because I feel like you hold the whole world in your hands, you’re one of those meant to go places and it shows. I'll always support you too. thank you for everything and I love you.

@ggukksrose shims. you’re definitely one of the people who make me feel validated the most, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I always see you sticking up for others and telling the haters to go fuck off, and you even did that with me. you’re an amazing person, and I admire you for the confidence you’ve managed to achieve and I wish you the best in the future, I hope you’ll only get better and better with your fights and if anyone ever messes with you I'll be throwing hands. just say the word. I love you. 

@cypher-yngi Emerson, am I wrong? we’ve never talked though we’ve been mutuals for so long. from what I've seen, we have a lot in common and I'd be more than ok to have even a simple conversation with you, even if you said Orangina was good. you’re also one of those who have helped me feel valid and realise I'm not alone in this world, so if you’re ever feeling alone, and if you want to, let’s be alone together, maybe? gotta love FOB. also, you have amazing music taste. and you're a fellow yoongi stan, and that itself says a lot about the kind of person you are. thanks for existing and I love you.

@wonwonbebe ah... have you ever told me what your name was? I have terrible memory. doesn’t really matter. I love you, I'm so thankful that you were my anon and can’t believe you actually went through all that just to talk to me. you have no idea how thankful I am. you’re a wonderful person, and I'm so, so happy to see that my mutuals are all so amazing and tolerant. thanks for all the positivity. 

@psycho-robin-chan robin, right? we’ve talked a bit before. if you read what’s above, you’ll probably find some parts a bit familiar, haha. I actually loved this conversation with you, if that makes sense? it’s always interesting and it feels good to let it out. I also like seeing I'm not alone, and I like to think that when I speak about such things with people I might also be helping them feel better. so thanks, you also make me feel valid with your posts and reblogs, and you’re such a tolerant and open and chill person at such a young age. never change anything! thanks for being here and supporting me. 

@mirohell sage! we haven’t been mutuals for long, and I'm not expecting you to read everything I've written, it’s ok if you don’t, really. I just wanted to thank you real quick because you’re already showing me lots of support and I feel like we’ll be getting along well. if you want to read this, I'm sorry for putting so much on your shoulders so quick lmao, you’ll basically be knowing so much about me without having asked for anything. feel free not to read it, I'm repeating myself again but really, the actual important part of this post is this one where I thank you all individually. so thank you!! I'll do my best in supporting you in the future as well, and not only by showing your edits some love haha

@theminho min! we haven’t been mutuals for long either, but thank you for caring about me. thanks for even just following me. thanks for this message you’ve sent, it means a lot really. you don’t have to read all that I've written above either,, don’t feel pressured, I just wanted to thank you personally too for just being here and for the support. feel free to come talk to me whenever you want (if you ever want) and I'll be supporting you always!! 

@justlovingkpop my sweetheart, you’re just too cute and so supportive and loving. thank you so, so much for everything and for coming to talk to me!! I'll go reread some of your work soon to because I've missed it. thanks for existing, and know that I'm always there for you. love you lots. 

@strawb-milk-tea my babyyyy I'm going to repeat it but thank you and I love you and you’re so cute and you’re NOT a potato ok, you’re so, so pretty like I knew I was gay but phew... I feel valid too when I see you. long live the gays. 

@five-pence hey there! it’s been a while. hope you’re doing well. thank you for supporting me, thank you for making me feel valid as well, and I love you very much. I'm here whenever. 

@jooheonenthusiast yo. we’ve basically only talked bc of that one post I made, and it’s been enough to show me that you’re an amazing person and a bad bitch. thanks for your support and fuck the homophobes. I love you. 

@marriael adellum. you’re a really kind person. you’re so pure. and you make me me feel very much valid, love your profile pics from the last days by the way. thanks for existing and I'm glad you’ve joined us on the network, it’s a pleasure to have someone like you around. hope I'm not too much of a pain in the ass. 

@channiiebby gryphon. we’ve never talked privately, but you’re a sweetheart. thanks for being you. you’re valid and you know it, and that makes me feel valid too, so thanks for showing me it’s okay to be who you are. I love you.

that’s it. I'm out of words. I've been at this for like 2 hours now. if I think of anyone else, I'll just reblog and add them. but right now I feel totally empty because of all the emotion hive poured into all this and I need to recharge, so good night and I love you all. thank you for your time and attention. 

happy pride month everyone,

your friendly neighbourhood pansexual, zia. 

[sharingvoices]

Some history

I think this problem began because of the importance my family gives to weight and appearance. It's kind of weird to be like that in Mexico, even more for a low-middle class family like mine.

My sister had always been skinny and I was always the fat one, even if I wasn't necessarily obese. I was chubby, and it shouldn't have been that much of an issue, but it was always highlighted by the fact that my sister was stick thin.

When my sister was 9 she had a surgery and in recovery she finally gained weight. She never got fat, she just looked healthier, but I don't think she was very comfortable with her new looks. So when she was about 10 years old she became bulimic. I actually hid her secret because I agreed that our mother should not know about it. It was a bad decision, but I didn't know it because my idea about weight and how to control it was just about as bad as hers. My family knew about it until she was 14 or 15, many years after the first time I knew. They tried taking her to therapy but it never worked and they didn't have money to keep paying for it so after a year she never went back to therapy, and it's officially been almost a decade since she started purging.

I think my sister's ed has a lot to do with my food issues.

I had to grow up being always compared to my sister in terms of weight, body shape and looks. My sister has a pear shaped body, while mine is more rectangular, which always made me look fatter even if I wasn't. My highest weight was around 60kg while being 152cm. I wasn't obese, just overweight, but I never got to have clothes that fit that weight. My sister was skinny and since we are about the same height and age my parents (who are very poor) never bothered to buy clothes for both of us. They bought clothes for my sister and not for me. I was always so depressed when we went to thrift stores and they asked me to try on the clothes they were buying for my sister and, of course, I never properly fitted into them, which my mom took as some sort of defiance against her, as if I was not trying enough to make it fit. The idea of having clothes that looked good and didn't feel uncomfortably tight was always foreign to me (until I lost weight) so I always felt like I was so morbidly obese that I couldn't find clothes for me. I started disliking shopping because of this, I hated clothes because I felt like nothing was ever going to fit, and my mother was always mad at me for not dressing up well enough and for not wanting to try on new clothes. There was an explanation for that, of course, but at that age I didn't recognize it, and my mom didn't either. I always wore whatever was comfortable, usually clothes that were big enough to hide my body and didn't feel tight. I think I just wanted to go unnoticed, no one should be looking at my clothes anyways, I didn't care about other people's clothes so I didn't think anyone should care about mine. I always looked more or less the same because although we had a lot of clothes, only a few were big enough for me. This led to one of the other things that probably contributed to my inability to feel love, which is how my mother interpreted my lack of interest in fashion and beauty. Since I was around 9 years old she started saying that I was a lesbian. I actually liked some boys before that at school, and never a girl, but no matter how much I denied it she was persistent. I could never change that, because it was still true that I didn't like buying clothes, and it got even worse because I didn't show any interest in dating during my early puberty like most girls do. I didn't like girls at all, but she just didn't believe me.

Not liking girly things became part of my personality during middle school, and even though I always loved the cute aesthetic, I never did anything about it because I felt like I was betraying that idea of myself.

When I was in 6th I was about to graduate elementary school, so I thought I just had to lose weight for the graduation party. I had never lost too much until then, I was always consistently chubby, so I guess it must have been a shock.

It started out nice. I stopped buying chips during breaks and having bread with butter for dinner. And then I stopped having breakfast. And then I stopped having dinner. And then I started living on 30gr of oatmeal a day. And that's when my mother started worrying about me.

By the time I went to middle school I was among the skinny ones, and it felt both good and very weird, I didn't believe that I didn't look fat. In my head I was always obese. And it did look like it, because my sister lost weight when she noticed my weightloss. I understand her thoughts, so I don't blame her.

I never got worryingly thin, in fact, I guess I looked always healthy. And that's because my starvation was not permanent. I kept going on periods of binging and then starving, so my weight never looked that different. The big weight changes started in highschool, I could gain 10kg in 2 months and then lose 7kg in one. But again, no one has ever found it suspicious, because I never look like I'm struggling with my weight.

It might sound crazy, but I want to look worrying.

Having a bulimic sister definitely influenced my relationship with food. She's a little bit of a feeder, I guess she always liked making me fatter so she could be skinnier than me. When I was fasting I had to see her eat massive amounts of food while and it was infuriating to see her eating all of that without gaining weight.

And that's the reason why I started purging too, and it's been almost two years since then. Ever since I started purging I've been looking pretty average, and I've done a wonderful job at hiding it, no one has ever suspected of me. My sister is openly bulimic, and sometimes I envy that. I wish I could declare myself openly anorexic or something so they could let me starve in peace.

[extraterrestreilegal]

Chapter III

We made our way to a truck being greeted by my father’s friend Margaro. He was much shorter than my father but he carried himself with confidence. We hopped in the back of the truck and we made our way up north. I probably fell asleep again because when I woke up, we were driving past the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri. I remember looking in the distance and seeing waves of people just going on about their day. It looked much different than Mexico. It was a city yes, but the people didn’t look the same. I saw waves of white skin with a few people of color here and there. But I knew it wasn’t anything like Mexico. Even the music sounded weird, it was something my father said was called Rap. Lose Yourself by Eminem was playing on the radio and I remember because it was one of the few songs that my father knew the words to. I could see him trying to sound out the words through his Mexican accent and I just remember thinking he sounded funny, but I liked the beat of the song. So I didn’t mind listening to it even though I had no idea what they were saying.

I don’t remember much of when we arrived to Ann Arbor, MI. I just remember going up the stairs to a house and being told that the room we were standing in, was our new home. Yes, I went from having my own room, my own house, my own space, to having to share it with not only my family in a singular room, but with the other 6 families that were living there as well. Growing up you don’t expect to take care of your parents, I mean after all, they are the grown ups. They’re the one’s who from day one are supposed to care for you. But there was a few times when I found myself drinking beer with them. There were times as I grew up that I found myself being used as entertainment for their friends because I was young, and I could drink tequila with a straight face. Even though I knew what I was doing was wrong, I was just trying to make them happy. I sometimes think that because of these things, I won’t ever be able to remember what happened during this time in my life. But maybe it’s for the best because the things I do remember, they aren’t memories a child should even have.

I remember the first time I had to help my mother put her head in the trash as she was throwing up from over drinking. I remember the many times whenever we weren’t allowed out of the room. We’d be locked in for hours as my parents and their friends drank all night. I remember the few times where I’d be with Alex waiting outside of my school for hours waiting for our parents to show up. And sometimes they never did, their friend’s would come pick us up from school because they were too drunk to even be bothered to come for their children. I have very few memories from my childhood and it’s sad that the one’s I do remember, they were of all the times I wish I could forget. Because maybe then it’d be easier now that I am older to forgive them. But how do you forgive someone like that. Someone who until this day denies their behavior and can’t speak about it without being defensive. I completely understand that my life turned out the way it did because of my choices. But they could never understand the effect that their behaviors had on me growing up.

Skip forward to 2005, the year my younger brother Axel was born. This was a significant year to mention not because of his birth, but because this was the year I believe my parents finally realized they needed to get their life together. What’s funny and kind of sad about them figuring this out on their third child, is that I think they forgot that Alex and I were still children ourselves. After he was born, middle child syndrome hit my family hard. Me being the middle child, I suffered through the most in that psychological sense. In 1997 when I was born, my mother and father had just spent a year caring for their first child, Alex. My mother was 20 years old when she had him. She herself was still young and I now understand that it might’ve really had an impact on her ability to parent. But she made the choice to keep me as well. We were fine in Mexico because she had her whole family to help her raise us. But when we left Mexico in 2002, she no longer had that support system. Just a house full of drunks who really had no plan for themselves but to try to work and make enough money to move out of that house.

By the time my younger brother was born, we had moved into a smaller house with my father’s friend. Being in that small house was starting to become claustrophobic, and with a new born child, my parents decided to move once again. This time, to where my own life would start. Before I moved to this place, I was nice. I remember wanting to still be a doctor and help people. After years of witnessing my parents drink their lives’ away, I remember thinking to myself that I’d never want to turn out like them. So I at least gained that from my childhood, but what I didn’t gain or ever feel quite honestly, was the love I should’ve received from my parents. It’s sad to think about it now, but I remember after we moved, a few days later I drew my father a “Best Dad in the World” drawing. I remember him just saying thanks hesitantly and throwing it away. I bring this up because if you know me, you know that I draw. You know that I’ve drawn since I was four. But what you didn’t know, was that I drew because I was seeking approval from my parents. I drew because it seemed like the only good thing I was good at. I had struggled to catch up learning English in school for so long that it also affected my ability to find interest in other subjects. So art, that was what I found a new passion in. Or maybe my first addiction of many because I couldn’t put my pencil down. I kept trying to get better and better at all costs. But I never got a good job or anything from my parents, just them judging my art and trying to poke fun at it. To them it may have seemed harmless, but to me it hurt deeply. I worked hard to please them and nothing I ever did was good enough. It hurt that the one thing I thought I was good at, wasn’t good enough.

So I went on with my life, trying to please them. Pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I always remembered the times I spent with Jorge. It felt like that was the last time I felt a sense of normality. I had tried for years to deny I had feelings for boys, I had to. My parents said it was wrong, their god said it was wrong, I couldn’t be what they wanted me to be. I remember growing up, I was kind of religious. I tried really hard to be their version of normal at home. I tried for the life of me to pray the gay side of me away because I did not want it. I did not want to have these feelings for boys and it was all because my parents and their god didn’t want it. I remember crying when I was in sixth grade because I had a crush on a boy who would never like me back. I remember trying to experiment with guys for the first time in seventh grade and feeling upset because that felt more normal than who I was trying to be. I remember in Elementary School telling my parents that nobody loved me. They mocked me for years for saying that, but what they didn’t realize that it was truly how I felt. I was growing up seeing boys and girls happy together. I was growing up fearing being gay because it was thought to be wrong. I was growing up feeling more alone everyday that went by because the more I experienced these feelings, the lonelier I felt as I had no one to share these feelings with. Eventually it got to the point where I couldn’t cry anymore. It took a while to get there but I couldn’t for a while. No matter how sad I felt, my eyes had grown tired of it. So I lost the ability to cry for a few years.

But feeling this way all the time, I can’t necessarily pin point when my depression started. Maybe it was in me the whole time, but I went through rough phases in my life. I’ve done so many things to hide or mask my pain. It’s kind of crazy to think I’m still here despite everything. Any who, I never understood why or how people could mutilate their own body. Until I started doing it myself. The first time I picked up a knife and cut my skin, I remember feeling it slice me open and for the first time in years I felt relief from the pain I felt inside. I was eleven years old when I first cut myself. I don’t even remember why I felt the need to, or where I even saw it, but once I felt that blade cut my skin, I felt relief. So for the next two years, I’d spiral down onto my second addiction. Cutting myself.

[borusawa]

1 New Message

A/N: Here’s the chapter one of the story. A little big, I know. You can read my other works in my masterlist. (I know I posted twice, but it’s because i’m testing something.)

Beta reader: @abbypdg again, cause she is my baby.

Warnings: As I said, this book is hated mature but this chapter has nothing abnormal, only some cursing and a lot of angst (but this is only the beginning).

Word count: 5,398

<  Prologue                   Chapter 2  >

CHAPTER 1: Date Nights and Ghosts

3:23AM Idiot

We gotta talk. Wait for me if you finish

the test first, ‘kay?

Now Me

Okay.

That message was definitely a new thing. What could it possibly be? I tried not to think about it too much and focus on the day ahead instead. But it was hard. All I could think of was the subject of the talk as tried to keep myself from imagining it too far. I dressed up and went to the kitchen with my best blank face, afraid of Chocho’s questions. To my relief, she wasn’t up yet and I left the apartment before having to face her. Chocho was a great friend but too interested in others’ lives to her own good.

Only the teacher was in the class when I got there and I politely greeted him good morning. He was a middle age man with a beer kind of belly and a bad-tied tie. The sun was reflecting right on his bald head and I hold back the laugh.

“Always the early bird, right Sarada?”

I tried to laugh at his comment but instead an awkward sound left from my mouth and I covered it up with a cough. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t be so serious. It’s only the two of us here.”

I furrowed my brows. What? “…Okay?” I took my place, secretly hoping for someone to appear soon, and I went through my stuff, taking my notes and giving them a quick glance before the test. To my happiness or to my despair, the first person to appear was Boruto. His hair was crazy and the bag in his eyes told a story of someone who hadn’t slept enough last night, what I only could deduce by the time he had sent the message. I wondered why, though.

“Good morning, sunshine. You look like a broken Barbie today.” I said, seeing him rub his eyes with the right hand and taking his seat by my side. “What happened to you after I left last night?”

“Nothing.” He smirked. This guy was up to no good and I knew it.

“Hey, I know that nothing. I use that nothing.” I smirked back.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” His serious tone surprised me a little and I took that as my cue to shut up.

“Fine.” I answered quickly, turning to face my notes once again. What was wrong with him?

Soon, the class was crowded and we started the test. Boruto finished before me and when I left the class my phone had a message from him.

10:42AM Idiot

I’m in the cafeteria waiting for you.

Now Me

I’m going.

It wasn’t hard to find him, his blond hair worked well to highlight his presence. He spotted me and waved. I couldn’t wait to know what he needed to tell me. I sat across the table smiling, placing my stuff in the chair beside me.

“How was your test, Sarada?”

“I think it went well. I had reviewed most of its content so I’m confident. What about yours?”

He stared down while smiling. “I have no idea, but I guess it went okay.” He took a sip from his large cup of coffee that, until now, went unnoticed by me.

“What happened last night?” I giggled to relax the tension between us.

All the while I pondered if it was a serious or a normal topic but either way, something had to explain his current behavior, the night up and the smile playing on his lips. I wished it was something about Shikadai and his mother because that was an easy thing to deal with. I hoped it had nothing to do about me or him or, worst of all, us. I had feelings for him for as long as I could remember, since we used to play together as kids and he would make fun of me for my glasses or I made fun of him for his, most of the times, stupid words. We grew up together as family, friends and sometimes border lining the “more”. I just wanted him to correspond my feelings but at the same time, I had no intention of declaring my love first. Love is kind of weird and I was weirder. My mom used to say that I got that from my dad, but who knows.

“I didn’t go home after leaving you.”

I furrowed my brows, all ghost of smiling left my face completely. I was completely taken aback by his words, I wanted to pretend it was okay but my body wasn’t cooperating at all, so I just stood there, staring at him seriously, seeing that he was avoiding my gaze but I couldn’t imagine why.  “ Y-You… didn’t? Where did you go then?”

“I got to tell you from the start.” He sighed before kept on going. “There’s this girl I like really much. I wanted to ask her out but I didn’t know how.” My heart started racing, my mouth went dry and my eyes widened, all this in one blink. Who was he talking about? Was it about me? “So, yesterday I gather the courage to finally ask her out but…”

I could not hide my curiosity anymore. I wished he was more straightforward. “But what?”

“But I went her house after leaving you and she wasn’t there.” So no, it wasn’t me.

I could deal with that, right? I totally could deal with that. It looked like he needed me right at that moment. He needed his best friend and I was willing to be there for him even with my heart shattered in pieces. I could collect myself later; what I couldn’t do was avoiding the hurt.

And I was hurt. More than any other moment in my life.

More than when my parents had started to fight every day and I thought they were going to divorce. More than when the guy I had my first kiss had started dating my closest friend back in elementary school. More than when I had noticed that no relationship in my life would work while I still had feelings for Boruto. More than when I gave up trying to have a normal date life because I knew I would only hurt innocent people bringing them to my mess of feelings. No, nothing compared. His words were the statement that we would never work out together and even though I expected something, it wasn’t that. I expected more for what our friendship meant and it was my fault. I just thought maybe I… I mean, we could be more than friends somehow. I was clearly mistaken.

“Wait, who is she?” I asked, holding my feelings inside me in the best Sarada’s way possible.

“You don’t know her yet, but I’m hoping you’ll know it soon.” He managed to stare back at me, his eyes clouded by a feeling I couldn’t recognize. “Anyway, I messaged her and she told me she was in her way home from her parents’ house or so. When she got home we talked for hours. I felt so good around her and I got the feeling that she felt the same around me last night, so I asked her out and she accepted.”

“I see.” It was my turn to avoid his gaze, in order to keep him from seeing something I wasn’t able to hide. The truth is I wanted to cry right there and now, but I needed to be as strong as I could be. I was the best pretender I’ve ever met. And I intended to maintain that title.

“I have a date today and I need your help.”

In that moment, while he was looking at me with bags under his eyes for staying up all night talking with another girl, and not less but the one he liked, I knew I wasn’t going to have my cute and easy life story, where everything goes as planned. And I knew Boruto wasn’t for me. We were just friends and after so many years waiting, I thought I should just... give up.

Skip that date and go out with me instead. “I’d help you through anything. You can rely on me.” His grin went wider with my words. What the fuck is this guy doing to me? "Can I know her name at least?"

"Yuki. She is awesome, you are going to love her she's-"

Exactly when he was starting to make a speech about the Yuki girl, his phone rang, and looking at the screen he raised the left hand for me to wait while he answered the call. During his talk, my mind wandered to what this Yuki girl could possibly look like to make Boruto be so crazy about her. His eyes sparkled when mentioned her name and I had never saw him that way before. She was the first girl he was really showing interest about, I didn’t even know if he ever had others and I thought if there were others, they weren’t important enough for him, otherwise he would tell me. I was still his best friend so I could tell Yuki was a new feeling for Boruto. And that was what scared me the most.

He turned his phone off and sighed. “I gotta go.”

“Something happened?” I asked with my voice filled with worry.

“Well, I haven’t told you till this point because I wasn’t sure, but everything is settled and this weekend I’ll be moving to your building.” He couldn’t hold back a smile and I was just shocked and confused. “Yeah, actually not only me but the guys. Mitsuki heard from Chocho about the empty apartment in your floor and we figured it would be nice.”

“Who are ‘the guys’?” I raised a brow. The only roommate Boruto had in the moment was Shikadai.

“Mitsuki, Shikadai and I. There’s a fourth guy but I don’t know much about him. All I know is that he’s friends with Shikadai and used to live alone but decided to have roommates now. Shikadai said that he’s more a rich spoiled brat than me, so I can’t wait to meet him and apparently that’s where I’m going now.” He hurried and stood up.

“Wait, who called you?”

“Shikadai.” He paused for a moment. “What you think about I stepping in your house later?”

“Yeah, sure.” And he left me alone with that.

“See you later!”

The whole deal about his moving got Yuki out of my mind for a little moment, but it came back as soon as Boruto walked away. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with my thoughts, yet I was sitting in a crowded place with a lot going on in my own world, too busy to notice anyone close to me. I was resting my face on my arm, totally over the table and glaring nowhere. So when someone sat in Boruto’s former seat I didn’t pay attention until the person started talking to me.

“Earth to Sarada. You got to stop spacing out.” Mitsuki said. “What happened? You look upset.” Mitsuki unwrapped his sandwich and my stomach started to rumble, what I took as a signal to eat.

“Nothing.” Why was hiding my first reaction to any question about my feelings?

“Why is hiding your first answer to everything?” You got me.

I glared at him with brows knit together. “Since when you know shit about human behavior?”

“Since Chocho made me watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians.”

“I’ve been there.” I rolled my eyes, what apparently made Mitsuki giggle.

“It’s a useful show if you intend to know something about crazy rich girls.” He took a sip from his juice. “But let’s not quit the topic. Why are you upset?”

He started to eat his sandwich and I start to ponder either tell him the truth or not. He wasn’t making too much pressure, but my guess it was because he knew if he pressed me, he couldn’t get anything. Smart bastard. But the truth is he only wants me to be fine, he’s not asking for curiosity, Mitsuki wanted to help.

I sighed after a long silence. “It’s Boruto.”

“Boruto again?”

“You sounded like my mother. That was weird.” I pointed with narrowed eyes.

“Sorry. Keep going.”

“It’s Boruto and that Yuki girl.” I sighed again. Talking to Mitsuki was almost like removing a weight from my shoulders.

He stopped eating to stare at me. “So… You found out about her, hum.”

“Yeah, I…” Realization suddenly hit me. “Wait, you knew about her?”

“Yes, you’re not the only friend Boruto has, you know? And Chocho also knows because I told her. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sumire knows too. You know how Chocho is.” I was shocked. Why were they hiding it from me? I was the only one allowed to hide things.

“So everyone knew and nobody told me? Why?” I throw myself against the back of chair, surprised with my friends’ betrayal.

“Chocho said it was better to spare your feelings, Shikadai said that love was too troublesome and that he was happy for not liking anyone and I just didn’t disagree with any of them.”

“Then, why Boruto didn’t tell me before?”

“He just shared with me because I asked and I guess Shikadai know because he knows the girl.” He started to eat again and I got that as the end of the talk. My stomach was aching at that point so I decided to head back home to eat something since I had the rest of the day free.

“Shouldn’t you be meeting your new roommate?”

Mitsuki face palmed himself. “Fuck. I knew I was forgetting something. Thanks, I totally forgot that when I saw you all sad.” I giggled while Mitsuki grabbed his things. When he finished taking everything, he stood up but stopped before leaving. “You shouldn’t be worrying about Yuki, though. Boruto will come back to you eventually.” And then he left, smiling and running right after. Back? He was never mine in first place.

I took my phone and sent a message to Chocho.

Now Me

R u home?

Now Chocho

Yes

It was surprising how Chocho always answered right away. Apparently, no matter where she was or what she was doing, she always had her phone in hands and I could trust that in any moment of my life. I headed home by walking as soon as I received her message. I didn’t want to overthink but, what option did I had? I needed to get my things clear before talking to anyone else. It took good fifteen minutes to finally get home, my mind replaying the talk with Boruto over and over like a broken disc, reminding me how things would change from that moment. It was inevitable. He was happy and I was broken, unable to say when I would be fine again but not even thinking about it. I wanted to feel the sorrow because that feeling was what would remind me that everytime Boruto and I were together, he didn’t belong to me, and even when we gravitated around each other, we would never attract, because he is always running away from me. I gave up waiting, there was no reason for.

With the keys on the door, I prepared myself to anything. All my willpower was required to face my roommates’ possible questions. I sighed and opened the door carefully. To my pleasure, an awesome food smell entered my nose and by that I just knew Sumire was home. As I said at some point, she was the sane of the house most of the times and probably responsible for the delicious smell.

I left my bag in the couch and headed to the kitchen with my fake smile ready. “Oh my god, I’m so hungry.”

“Hi, Sarada. Welcome home!”

“Thank you, Sumire. How are you? Long time no see. ”

She giggled. “I’m fine, and you?”

“Hn… I heard that you slept with your new boyfriend last night.” I smirked, expecting her reaction. The girl went all red but stood mixing her pans. I sat on one of the chairs of the four-place table in the center of our kitchen, resting my arms and head on the table. “How was it?”

“S-saradaaa!!” She stuttered, her hands covering her face.

“It’s okay, girl, we are all adults here, and you probably did nothing I didn’t do already. You will need to talk with us eventually, though. Not sharing any details, just be more open about it.” Be open. That was an advice I should try to follow at some point. Hn, naah. Either way my words were no use to relax her so I decided to change the subject. “So, when will we meet the guy?” She calmed down and faced me.

Sumire sighed. “Today is Friday so…” she made a pause and looked up, like she was thinking about it, but when she spoke again, she looked at me fiercely. “Never.” And she turned back to look for something in the cabinets. I raised myself from the table, narrowing my eyes at her answer.

“Wha-” My question was totally ignored since Chocho entered the kitchen calling my name.

“Sarada, are you okay?” Chocho walked directly to me, grabbing my hand while I confusedly watched her. I saw in my eye corner that Sumire was smiling. I bet she was happy I wasn’t asking anything about her boyfriend anymore.

“How did you know I was here and why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I saw your bag on the couch, obviously.” She carefully sat beside me. “I was talking to Mitsuki.” Her tone made everything clear.

“Oh.” We went all silence. What were we supposed to say anyway? She knew what I was feeling and I knew that she didn’t want me to feel that way, but none of us could avoid the fact.

“What happened? I’m kinda lost here.” Sumire said, wiping her hands and getting closer to sitting with us after turning off the stove.

My gaze was fixated on the floor and I tried my best not to give in to my feelings. “She found out about Yuki.” Chocho answered in my place.

“Oh.” They both directed pity looks at me. I wished they didn’t because that made me feels worse.

“I’m okay, really. Stop worrying.” I shook my head and put an annoyed face. “It’s not that surprising, you know. He doesn’t like me; he would like someone at some point.” We fell silence once again.

Chocho’s face lighted up as she remembered something. “You know what we should do?” Sumire and I exchanged glances; we knew that nothing good was coming for that. “There’s that party today-“

“No.” I calmly said before she finished her sentence.

“At least let me finish.”

“No, Chocho, that’s not what I need. I need some time alone to think.” My stomach rumbles again. “And I need to eat.” I stood up and went to see the pans, my back turned to them. I took a deep breath and I felt a lonely tear in my right cheek. I knew my friends noticed, they always noticed, but both Chocho and Sumire knew better than bother me about my feelings. Previous experiences taught them that the best thing was to let me handle that in my way. I coughed before talking, just to make sure my voice was bold when I spoke again. “What did you make, Sumire?”

“I-I made spaghetti.”

I turned to see them. “Thank you, girls.”

The lunch went fine, despite Chocho constant questions about Sumire and her night with the mysterious boyfriend, which made the innocent girl almost faint. When we finished, I told the girls I was going to my room and maybe nap, but the truth was that I wasn’t planning to. I entered my room locking the door behind me. I couldn’t keep my pain inside anymore. I took my spectacles away from my face so my tears could freely run through my face. Sobbing, I placed my glasses on my night stand and sat on my bed hugging my legs. Should love be this hard? My mind wandered to places I never want to relive, memories of all the moments I thought that was more, and the times we only had each other for comforting. I wondered if they meant nothing to him, if he couldn’t see the things I saw, if I should have told him my feelings years ago, if he would reject me easily. The ifs were killing me, and I didn’t know what to do despite crying. Was that impossible for me to be loved? To be wanted? Dumb me thought I had a chance with him, dumb me thought that I was nearly enough for him. For a moment, I wondered if he ever felt like I was feeling at that moment, if he ever felt like his world was falling down into madness, into a sea full of tears and sorrow. No, he was too good for that.

At some point though, I fell asleep and I was woken up by a fucking loud music coming from my living room and I stood up fucking furious, opening the fucking door with rage in my eyes and killing intent.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS FUCKING GOING ON HERE?” My eyes weren’t quite opened yet and when I came back to put my glasses, I saw a perfect set of teeth grinning and blue eyes playfully staring at me in my room’s door. I stared at him while he pressed the turn off button of the remote in his hands, making  the annoying sound to stop, making me hear some laughing coming from the living room. That’s what will kill me: Rage. “What was that?”

“Oh, so you can complete a sentence without the f word.” Boruto’s grin grew wider. That boy loved to tease me and I hated it with all my heart.

“Fuck you, asshole. Where the f… Where are Chocho and Sumire?” I sat on my bed, rubbing my eyes and fixing my glasses.

“Chocho is in the couch with Mitsuki, obviously laughing her ass off because of your reaction and Sumire... To be honest I don’t know, she wasn’t here when I came.”

“Odd. She’s being out a lot lately.”

“Must be because of her-“ Boruto got closer to sat by my side.

“Her boyfriend, I know.” I looked at him. Why is this boy being the topic lately?

“How do you feel being the only single roommate? Feeling left out already?” He said playfully, a smirk on his face and his index finger trying touching my side. I wasn’t that playful though. At that point, I wasn’t able to hear the laughing outside anymore. I wonder what are Chocho and Mitsuki doing to be so silent.

“Get out.”

Boruto furrowed his eyebrows, his face turning into a confused expression. “What?”

I pointed to the door. “Get. Out.”

He didn’t show any intentions to move so I started to push him to the door, so he started to laugh and shouted. “No, Sarada, please stop! Let me stay! I’ll stop teasing you, I swear!” I stopped pushing him and he spoke low and slowly. “Please, I need your help.”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. “Spill it.”

He sighed and motioned for us to sit in the bed again. I sat but my expression remained still. “I need dating advice.”

“YOU NEED WHAT?” I started to laugh hard, throwing myself back and hitting my head on the wall but I didn’t even mind. “You are asking the single one for advising?” He stood still, staring seriously at me, which made me frown. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yeah, you are the one that knows me better and since you’re the only one single, you have a clearer idea of what you’d want on a first date.”

I pondered for a minute. “Do you remember the last time I went on a date?”

“Wasn’t that when your father appeared in the middle of the movie and dragged you out?”

I closed my eyes, my mind brought to life that moment again, even though sometimes it popped up spontaneously in my nightmares. “Yes. And that was sophomore year in high school. Now we are sophomores in college, don’t you see that?  I know nothing about dating, that thing doesn’t work for me. One night stands, that’s what I know about.” That was all I let myself feel for another humans: physical attraction and nothing more. I didn’t want to play with people’s feelings because I was in love with someone that didn’t love me back but still, girls gotta eat. If papa knew that though, he would eat me alive. With only a glare.

“What you don’t know about dating, you compensate with your knowledge about me and my terrible behavior. Let’s start simple, what should I try to avoid?”

“You shouldn’t go then. You’d need to avoid being you.” I smirked and he raised a brow. “Okay, seriously now. Try not to rush things, you need to calm down and take your time to everything. To speak, to walk. Don’t scream and please don’t share your daddy issues just yet. If uncle Naruto calls you during your date, act normally without the scandal you usually do.”

He huffed. “I don’t do a scandal.” I stared at him. “I’ll try to avoid it, then.”

“You should seriously don’t talk too much about yourself too. Think about things you want to know about her before going and ask her them.” I sighed and closed my eyes. I couldn’t avoid to imagine how our first date would be like, if he would try to be nicer just for me or if he would be the same Boruto as always. Being a good friend sucks sometimes. “Compliment her, but not too much. Laugh at her jokes and help her with any struggle. That’s pretty much it.” Well, my advice was sure way better than I expected it to be. I opened my eyes only to see that he was watching me with such a cute smile on his lips. “What?”

“See? I knew you would be helpful.” I put my tongue out and giggled. “I gotta go now, my date is in one hour.” He sighed. “But first, I’ll need to ask one more favor.”

“Spit it, pretty boy.”

“Tomorrow we’ll start the moving out so... maybe, if you are in the mood, can you step by at my apartment and help us? The new guy will be there too, you’ll have the chance to meet him then. His name is Inojin, by the way. Apparently Namida, Denki and Iwabe will be there too. And you know that girl that was in love with Shikadai a while ago?”

“Which girl?” I narrowed my eyes. Despite being completely uninterested in any living creature, Shikadai sure was attractive to a lot of weird girls. Maybe it was because of his intelligence. Whatever.

“The less weird of them all, the one with blonde hair, that’s always alone or with that really good looking guy, Shinki, and the other.”

Oh, I remembered Shinki. He sure caught every girl eye and yet, the girl who was always with him, fell in love with Shikadai. Maybe that’s why they were friends. I thought I should learn from her. “Oh, you mean Yodo. Yeah, I know. What about her?”

“I called her too since is practically a get together and a farewell to the old apartment, right? I wish he gave her more attention, though.”

“Aren’t you cute trying to make everyone to have a relationship?” I awed.

“You’d be the next but it’s hard when you’re so denial with your feelings.”

All I did was to make an annoyed face. “HAHAHA now go. Otherwise you will be late for your date.” I stood up with arms crossed and ready kick him out of my room.

When he got to the door, he turned to me and smirked. “Fine, fine, I’m going. But you cannot avoid this talk forever.”

“I can, and I will.” We smiled to each other, we both knowing the other unspoken words. He knew that I was saying that I didn’t want to do that and I could almost hear him saying that I should stop being stubborn.

As soon as he left the room, I closed the door but I still heard his scared yell from the other room. ‘Mitsuki? What the hell is this? You two could be in her room. Ewww.’ I giggled all by myself. Wrong thoughts came to my mind again, but I was ready to put them behind me for a little so I went to the living room.

The rest of the day went by with a lot of my complaints towards Chocho and Mitsuki behavior. A part of me was happy that they were outside her room because if they were inside and if I was hearing wherever they were doing there, it could’ve been worse. I wondered how much this kind of problem I would have to deal with now that the boys were moving to our building. Gladly, they stopped when Sumire got home because there was a possibility that if they kept acting like teenagers in our living room she could die with a stroke, so Mitsuki finally went to his own home. Seriously I had no idea how Sumire managed to have a boyfriend and stay alive at the same time. We ordered pizza only by Chocho’s pressure and watched a girly movie, again, because of Chocho’s pressure. We were used to it though, so no stress. And the movie was good after all, disregarding how much Chocho was dissatisfied to have no company to the party she had mentioned earlier that day.

We all said good night and went to our beds and I took my phone as soon as I got inside.

2 new messages.

In the deep of my heart, I had an idea of who could be and I wasn’t ready to read, yet I pressed the notification.

22:34PM Idiot

Saradaaaaaaaaa. The date was

awesome and probably we will have a

second I’m so happy

22:34PM Idiot

Yuki is great, thanks for your advice

Now Me

You’re welcome. If it’s not a bother to

ask, how do you feel about her?

Before he could answer, I felt water in my cheeks again. I wanted to know his feelings but at the same time, I didn’t. It took a while before my cellphone vibrate again.

Now Idiot

I don’t know, but I’m excited to find out

It’s late so, good nite, ttyl

Now me

Good night.

I was already sick of feelings. Why did I keep acting like it's worthy? I had to find someone else. I stood up and headed to Chocho’s room. I knocked the door twice.

“Come in.” I heard her, so I opened the door carefully. The lights were still on and she had her attention on the computer, already wearing her pajamas.

“Are you still up to that party?” She just gave me a big grin and I knew the answer.

“Let’s party girl!” She stood up with a dance that made me laugh.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell because of our friendship.” And with that, I went to my room to get ready too.

…

I woke up with a fucking headache. My body was completely sweaty from the sunlight hitting my body. Wait, sunlight? My room’s window was on the opposite side from the sun. I opened one eye slowly, afraid of what I might see. I was in a white room and white curtains dancing from the breeze entering from an open window, the same one that was letting the sunlight warm my body. I opened my other eye and looked down to myself. Okay, I was naked. Filled with worry, I turned to see the other side of the bed. Blond hair filled the pillow and the muscle body told me that it belonged to a guy. Well, that wasn’t my house, I have never seen that room before and definitely, I didn’t know this naked guy by my side. Where the fuck was I?

[lovemesomesurveys]

Who do you consider the King of Pop? Michael Jackson used to have that title, but he’s canceled now. I don’t know who would be considered that now. Do you own Aviator sunglasses? No. Have you ever changed your favorite color? From what to what? Yeah. As a kid it was red, and then when I got to high school it became black and then yellow at some point. Now over the years it’s just expanded to a lot of colors. I love pastels. On a scale of 1-10, how competitive are you? I like a little fun and friendly competition when playing board games, but I don’t get crazy about it. Do you have a curfew? No. I’m almost 30 years old, I can come and go as please. I don’t go anywhere, but I could. ha.

Do you know any LL Cool J songs? Yeah, a few. What celebrity do you wish would get their own show? Pretty much everyone does nowadays. Do you think you’d make a good president? Noooo. I’d never want that kind of responsibility, pressure, and stress. I can’t even take of myself, man. I’m struggling enough in my life. Are you a better dancer or singer? Neither. I do more singing, though. At what age did your have your most memorable birthday? My 21st and a couple others in my early 20s. How old is your best friend? Early 50s. Yes or no: Guys in skinny jeans? Yes. Yes or no: Girls with dreads? I don’t care. Have you ever attended a theme b-day party? What was the theme? Yeah, plenty. Do you pc4pc on Myspace? Well Myspace is dead and has been for several years, but yeah I did all that crap back in the day. Do you have any Eminem on your iPod/ mp3 player? On my Spotify app on my phone, yes. Last time you went to the mall, what did you buy? Christmas presents. That was back in like November or early December. What hair products do you use in your hair every day? None everyday. The only hair products I ever use are shampoo and a leave-in conditioner/detangling spray. What do you think the best song of the summer was? It’s not summer, yet. I’m in no rush for it. What are your schools spirit colors? I’m done with school. When you get bored do you take pictures of yourself? No. Have you ever owned a lava lamp? Yeah. Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? In college sometimes, but only if I knew I could miss the class that day and be fine. What was the last thing you watched on t.v? That movie Why Him? is on currently. Has anybody ever given you a promise ring? No. Do glittery and glowing things interest you? Sure. Have you ever broken a window? No. What smiley face do you use most often? :) I mostly use the :/ :X D: :( non-smiley faces, though. Are the Jonas Brothers really as amazing as people make them out to be? I was a big fan back when they first came out and during their time before the split. Then I followed them on their solo projects, but I wasn’t as a big of a fan as I was when I was 16 years old. Now they’re back together and it’s cool, the songs are good, but I’m not fangirling like I did back then.  Guess I’m too old, ha. Or just don’t enjoy things like I used to... :/ Is talking about sex openly awkward for you? Yes. What is your favorite kind of cake? White or funfetti cake with buttercream frosting. Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? Yeah, when I was younger and didn’t know about the risk of salmonella poisoning. It was so good, though. I never got sick any of the times I ate it, thankfully. What do you think about putting 'spinners’ on cars? I think it’s a bit much, but whatever. Do people still do that? I haven’t seen it in a long time. What I really don’t get is the huge rims on small cars that raise the car up and it moves up and down. That is just ridiculous. Did you laugh really hard today? No. Do you own any plastic jewelery? Yeah. If you were a talk show host who would you want to have as a guest? Hmm. I don’t know. What celebrity do you wish would have a big come back? It’s funny cause now and then I’ll see an old movie or TV show, or maybe hear something about an actor or musical artist that hasn’t done anything in awhile and I’ll be like, “Oh yeah, I wonder whatever happened to them?”, but of course I can’t think of an example right now. What other holidays are in the month your birthday is in? 4th of July. Do you like showing your teeth when you smile? No. Can you count your best friends on one hand? Yeah. I would just need 1 finger. Is it ok for guys to wear sneakers to prom? Personally, if I had had a date for prom (I didn’t), I would have wanted him to dress nice. I went to my prom and I got a nice dress and got my hair and makeup done, so I’d want my date to look nice, too. That’s just me. Some people wouldn’t care. How close is your immediate family? We’re close. How did/ do you get to school every morning? Elementary, middle school, and high school one of my parents took me. In college I had to take the public bus sometimes, other times my mom or my friend did. Were you outdoors or indoors more as a kid? As a kid I played outdoors quite a bit, actually. What a difference to the hermit crab I am, huh? Do you ever make fun of yourself? All the time.

[larryssunflower]

TRR AU- Teachers (part three)

Make sure to read previous parts!

Part 1    Part 2

Summary- Mc (Elle Garden) is a new teacher in the small Cordonian elementary school, and she is starting to have confusing feelings with the teachers who work there...

Pairing- Drake X MC

I’m so sorry this took me so long! I have just been stressing with school and finals! And while working on it, it kept not saving and I would have to write the same thing over and over again and I was so freaking tired of it, but I got back on track. Sorry again for the delay! 

Tagging: @simplyaiden-blog @tmarie82 @butindeed @mfackenthal @monosodiumglutamateme @drakelover78 @crookedslimecreatorpasta @mrsdrakewalkerblog  

—-

I pull away quickly, staring in shock at Liam. My friends stare at him as well as he flushes a deep shade of red. “I- I’m sorry-“ he stutters out, turning away and walking out quickly. Fuck. I glance over at Drake, who is looking at me, his eyebrows pulled together and his jaw clenched. I follow Liam out the door, going out into the night air. “Liam!” I call, looking around until I spot him, leaning against the wall of the bar, his head down. I sigh and I walk up to him. “I’m sorry I did that Elle,” He says, his head in his hands. Pity grows in me and my anger fades away. “It’s alright Liam,” I say softly. “No, it’s not. I just- I’ve kind of had a crush on you before I met you. Hana always talked about you and showed us pictures, I just feel like I knew you already.” He says, messing with the string on his pants. “You just look so beautiful tonight, and I really wanted to ask you out, but the alcohol kind of made me lose control.” He admits, finally looking over at me.

I look down, thoughts racing through my head. “I’m sorry if I made the wrong impression Liam. I already care about you and I want to get to know in a non-romantic first, before anything happens.” I say, trying to defuse the situation. He immediately brightens up a bit. “Thank you, Elle, I really appreciate it. I would love that.” He says, grabbing my hand and kissing it before he goes back inside. Shit. I might have given him hope. But he seems like a nice guy, maybe dating him wouldn’t be so bad. But I know I have really strong feelings for Drake. They top anything I have for Liam.

I groan and lean my head back against the brick of the bar, looking up at the sky above me. My first day in and I’m already being torn between two guys, even though I‘m only attracted to one of them. Ugh, I’m a mess. Good thing it’s a Friday and I can have a couple days to recover. I sigh and try to lose myself for a moment, lost in the stars above me. “That was something,” a voice says next to me. My eyes snap open at his voice. I turn and look at Drake. “Oh... yeah it was,” I say, my heart hammering just from looking at him. “I think Liam likes you,” Drake says, a small smirk on his face. I roll my eyes playfully at his teasing. “No really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” I say sarcastically, making Drake laugh.

“So.. are you going to date him?” Drake asks, seeming more serious. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I ask, turning fully to him. Please say no. Say no and prove to me that you have feelings for me too. Prove to me that I’m not in my head about everything. Drake smiles bitterly. “Yes. I mean, he is a really good guy, and he’s only had a few girlfriends but they were long-term. He’s the perfect guy to date.” Drake smiles, looking down at me. I try to ignore the burning of my eyes as I look back up at him. So he’s not interested then. Everything was just in my head. I clench my jaw to fight the rising lump in my throat. “Fine then. I will.” I say, pushing past him, ignoring how it hurt to push so forcefully against his large strong body. I don’t bother going back to the bar and I just keep walking, heading home.

I’m so stupid! How could I ever think Drake would actually like me? I let the tears fall from eyes this time, cold against my skin. I zip up my stupid jacket which barely helps against the cool night air. Why would he even consider me? Kiara is clearly all over him. I bet he loves that. Ugh! I hate how dumb I am. So desperate the minute I saw him. I mean, he bumped my knee back! That couldn’t have been a mistake! Stop. It’s not going to change anything. When I reach my apartment, I flop down on my bed, crying.

—-

After having the weekend to reflect and calm down a bit, I’m ready to come back to school and face everyone. I just need to be strong. I wear a long flowy dress today and when I get to school I don’t bother looking for anyone, I just head straight into my classroom.

—-

Drake’s POV- Friday night-

“So are you going to make a move on her Drake?” Liam asks me, raising his eyebrows playfully. I roll my eyes, covering the fact that my stomach churns nervously at the mention of Garden. “Well better decide soon, she’s here.” Maxwell grins, looking behind me. I turn around and my breath hitches in my throat. Behind Hana who is briskly walking toward me, stands Elle, smiling at me, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear bashfully. Beautiful. She starts walking towards me in her new outfit. Instead of gawking at her dress flowing around her figure like I did earlier, my mouth is drying up looking at her legs wrapped in tight black jeans and her very low cut shirt.

“Hey, guys!” Hana says, walking right up to us. Elle follows, her incredible smile brightening her face. “Hey!” She grins, as she sits down next me and I swallow thickly, trying to ignore the urge to put my hand on her thigh. “Woah, you look great Elle,” Liam says, making her flush slightly. Jealously suddenly pangs within me and I clench my jaw to hide my anger. Why am I jealous? I’m not dating her. She isn’t mine. God, I wish she was. But no. She is all flustered because Liam told her she looks great. Why didn’t I speak up? “Thanks, Liam!” Elle says, shifting in her seat. I’m still in shock as I stare at her. She turns to me her eyes making my stomach flip.

“You look like you just walked out of Grease, freaking cool!” Maxwell says, making Elle’s cheeks redden more. “Alright enough about my dumb outfit. How was your guys’ first day?” She asks, leaning forward in her seat. Her outfit isn’t stupid, why would she say that? The rest of the night everyone discusses their day and I think about earlier during PE. I wanted to impress her so bad. Running around wasn’t doing it enough, she was still working on work. I wanted her to look at me. So I took off my fucking shirt. Who does that? I was so dumb. So fucking desperate. Trying to impress her so much.

Enough is enough and I stand up, clearing my throat. “Alright, enough with work talk, I need a drink,” I say, getting up. “I’ll help bring them over, Drake,” Liam says, but hesitates as he noticed he’s in the middle. “I’ll go, don’t want to make everyone else get up,” Elle smiles, getting up and brushing herself off. She glances over at me and I smile slightly, before heading to the bar. I need to to contain my feelings.

We reach the bar and I start ordering the drinks as Elle leans against it, watching the woman sing drunkenly on karaoke. “What will you have Garden?” I ask, and she turns to me, her green eyes meeting mine. “Oh a whiskey please,” She says casually, turning back to the singer like nothing had happened. Whiskey? She can’t know.They haven’t made any jokes about my favorite drink around her and she isn’t messing with me, she genuinely means it. “It's like you were made for me,” I mutter underneath my breath, shaking my head. “Is there something wrong?” She asks, an eyebrow raised. Shit, did she hear me? “No, it’s just I’ve never met a woman who likes whiskey,” I smile, making her laugh lightly. “Well it doesn’t seem like you’ve met the right woman yet,” she jokes, lightly biting her bottom lip.

I look at her for a second, my stomach erupting in butterflies just looking at her face. Her eyes. I’ve seen green eyes before but none like hers. None have made me feel this way. None have immediately made me crazy about them. None have made me crave to see them looking at me. “No, I think I might have...” I trail off. Before I can even panic if I scared her off, the bartender comes up with our drinks. Elle grabs a couple and leads the way back, her hips swaying dangerously.

When I get back I learn that Elle apparently has given Hana the cosmo by accident and switched with it, Maxwell. “I didn’t take you for a cosmopolitan type of man Maxwell,” Elle teases, making me snort. “Then you definitely haven’t gotten to know him well enough yet,” I smirk, making everyone laugh. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad. Maybe tonight I will get to know Garden better and be able to make a move.

- 2 hours later -

What. The. Fuck. Anger boils within me as I see the scene unfolding in front of me. Liam pressing his lips against Garden. Her eyes are wide as he kisses her and she pulls away quickly. He mumbles an apology and leaves, Elle chasing after him.

—-

On Monday I’m still pissed off about Friday night. Why would Liam do that? He knows I have a thing for Elle. He wouldn't stop talking about it as well. When Liam came back I had followed her out and told her dating Liam would be a good idea. why am I so fucking stupid? As soon as I realized what an idiot I was, I tried to follow her, but then a swarm of women came out of the bar- mostly women in their fifties- very drunk. I tried to get past them but they started to wolf whistle as they spotted me. I distinctly remember one of them saying, “Susan look, finally, a real man!” They then proceeded to jump me. I survived, suffering from multiple lipstick marks and a little disheveled, but all around alright, except for the fact that my dream girl slipped from my fingers.

When I arrive at school, locking my bike, I turn and see Elle walking into the school, her long dress flowing gracefully as she walks. I follow her but get blocked by Kiara. “Hey Drake!” she says, beaming. “Hey Kiara, sorry I was just-” she cuts me off excitedly “-I just heard about Liam and Elle! don't you think they are so perfect for each other? J’aime l’amore!” she says, making dread fill within me. “Are they together?” I ask. She grins, “Not really, but they are having a date tonight, according to Liam, and he asked me to invite someone to ease the awkwardness, do you want to come with me?” she asks hopefully, her eyes almost sparkling. “Yeah.. okay,” I say, and she laughs with delight. “Okay see you tonight, but remember no drinking, it's a school night!” she teases, walking away, a bounce in her step. I pinch the bridge of my nose. How the hell did this happen? All I fucking want is to be with Garden and now I have to go on a double date with her and my best friend. Just my fucking luck. 

-Elle’s Pov-

Despite the fact that im dreading my date with Liam tonight, I greet my class happily. “Hey guys, I hope you are well rested and ready to work! Take out your packets from Friday and start working, you may work with a partner, but use your inside voices.” I smile, and they eagerly find partners, chatting as they work on their math packets. I hear a soft knock at my door. I get up and answer it, hoping to see Drake there, ready to tell me how much he loves me. But no, it's Kiara. Perfect.

“Hey, just wanted to give you a heads up, your date tonight has turned into a double date.” she says, smiling. “wait, what?” I ask, looking at her confusedly. Who could we possibly be going on a date with? I mean, I know Hana has started dating this girl names Kaitlyn whos in a band and they are super cute, but I don't think that's their kind of thing. “With me and Drake silly!” she says, laughing. I stare at her for a second, processing what she just said. “Well I’m going to go... see you later! Au revoir!” She says, waving and walking away. I close the door and go over to my seat, thinking.

I don’t bother going to lunch, I don’t feel like talking to them. Before I know it, it’s time for PE. Drake appears in my doorway, looking better than ever, making me swallow thickly. “Okay, kids, time for PE with Mr. Walker,” I say, but don’t stand up with the kids who run over to Drake excitedly. “Are you coming?” Drake asks from the door frame and I turn to him. I look into his deep brown eyes and sigh. “No, not today, I don’t really feel like going outside.” I say, and Drake coughs uncomfortably, “We aren’t going outside, it’s raining,” He says and I turn to look outside, where rain falling down. “Oh, well I have a lot of work to do, I’ll talk to you later yeah?” I say, he nods, seeming disappointed.

When they come back, Drake doesn’t return but the kids walk right in and sit down, humming a melody and mumbling song lyrics. I knit my eyebrows together in thought...I recognize that song. “Butterfliesss!!” Some kid belts out, making other kids laugh. Wait. The song I sang on Friday? “What are you guys singing?” I ask, making them giggle. “Mr. Drake kept playing this song on repeat, he said it’s his favorite!” A girl says, her voice sweet. “What?” I ask softly. He played my song? The kids laugh continue to sing and I look over at the door frame and see Drake walking by. He stops and glances over at me. He smiles and winks, before walking away.

*end of part three*

Thank you for reading! Sorry that it took so long and isn’t that great, as I said I’ve been struggling with finals! Thank you for your patience and kind words! Love you all 💕

[scarletwelly-boots]

Books Read 2018

I read 20 books in 2018, about 15 fewer books than last year (I work longer hours and have a further commute is my excuse). Technically I’m not even done with one of them, but I have like an hour or two to go of it and it’s an audiobook so it’ll be read faster than I could read it.

This is the third year I have done the Reading Challenge, which lists a number of categories to read books under (there were 40 categories this year, so I got a solid 50%). You can find the challenges I’ve done at least last, this, and next year, on Popsugar. (I don’t remember if I got the 2016 one from the same site). I also took some liberties with the categories and even changed a few to entries from last year’s list.

1. Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton (A book made into a movie you’ve already seen). ‘Kay so. I liked it, of course I did. I like the movie and I’m in love with Ian Malcolm. It was interesting because it provide some context fro scenes in the movie or left out of the movie that I didn’t get when I watched it. It was different from the movie in a lot of spoiler-y ways that I won’t get into. Most of these differences were good with one exception that really upset me. I would recommend to read it anyway.

2. Leah on the Offbeat, by Becky Albertalli (The next book in a series you started). This is the sequel to Simon vs. The Homosapien Agenda and I’m gonna be honest. I LOVED it. Was it better than Simon? No, probably not. But the representation made me really happy. I’m also a fat bisexual and though I’m not always a woman, I was raised AFAB, so it was still really relatable to me. There were some plot holes, because I’m pretty sure Albertalli decided Leah was bi after Simon was published. I thought it was really cute, though, and I definitely recommend it.

3. Weird Ireland, assorted authors (A book involving a mythical creature). A very small, independently published book about paranormal, supernatural, and extra-terrestrial sightings in Ireland. It was okay. I finished it in two hours. I knew everything that was in it, and some of it they even got wrong. Even if you’re crazy-obsessed with Ireland like me, you can skip this one.

4. Wild Irish Women, by Marian Broderick (a book set in a country that fascinates you). This is the kind of history book I like. Each chapter follows the biography of a different person and provides some context about the time period in which they lived. I learned a lot about Irish women I had never heard of, learned more about women I already knew about, and reread what little is known about my hero and historical crush, Grainne Ni Mhaille. One shortcoming of this book was their inclusion and insistent misgendering of Dr. Barry, an Irish physician who made great strides in natal care for women and who at this point is pretty widely believed to have been a transman. As a genderfluid person, this frustrated me so much that about three sentences into his entry I grabbed a red pen and actually corrected the pronoun usage. All the same, I recommend the book if you like women’s or Irish history, or los dos, like myself.

5. A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L’Engle (a book with a time of day in the title). Hey, it had the word ‘time’; I say that counts! Guys, if you have never read this book, you need to. Even if you watched/sobbed during the movie. Dear god this book is so good. The theoretical physics is confusing, but that’s to be expected (my fifth graders were like ‘wth does this mean’ and I was like ‘you got me; this is why I teach elementary’). But it had some of my favorite themes, and Meg does her job as the oldest sibling, which as an oldest sibling, I respect and expect. (Never bring up the movie The Wind that Shakes the Barley with me; I am very, very firm about my Oldest Sibling Job responsibilities.) Anyway, read this goddamn book please.

6. Heart of the Fae, by Emma Hamm (A book with a villain or antihero). I am a sucker for all things Beauty and the Beast and all things Ireland, so when I saw a recommendation for this independently published Irish retelling of Beauty and the Beast on tumblr, I ordered it immediately. I really loved it. It’s also the first in a series and listen, the only thing better than a Beauty and the Beast retelling is a TRILOGY of a Beauty and the Beast retelling. I started the sequel but I haven’t finished yet. This book is so good. I highly recommend it.

7. The Upside of Unrequited, by Becky Albertalli (A book with alliteration in the title). This was...okay. It’s a companion to Simon vs. the Homosapien Agenda, and it follows Abby’s cousins. In a way, it was gayer than the others, because her cousins have two moms and one of the cousins is gay. But it’s from the POV of the straight one, so not as gay. Plus I really like the characters from the first two, and we didn’t even get very much Abby in this one. You kind of have to read it like its own novel with a couple cameos from Abby. As a standalone, it wasn’t bad, but as a series it was a bit of a letdown.

8. The Once and Future King, by TH White (a book about time travel). Look, Merlin ages opposite to the passage of time, so it counts as time travel. I have been trying to read this book for ten years. I liked most of it. I had a few qualms but given the climate in which it was written it makes sense for the time period (not that that should excuse some of the cringe-worthy parts). The last like fifty pages White waxes poetic on the capitalist system and it’s like, we get it, you’re a white man from the middle of the Cold War, but read a goddamn book. Additionally, at least three men were raped by women with some not-so-subtle victim blaming which pissed me the fuck off. But the overall story, the legend of King Arthur, was good. It’s definitely a cornerstone in the Arthurian saga. I might try to read Le Morte d’Arthur next year and see how it compares.

9. All the King’s Men, by Nora Sakavic (a book with song lyrics in the title). Humpty Dumpty is close enough to a song. This is book three of the All for the Game trilogy, and holy shit you have to read this. It’s the best book in the trilogy. It is a series about a college sports team who play a made up sport called Exy, which is basically a more violent version of lacrosse. I’m not a huge sports fan, but the way she writes Exy matches had me on the edge of my seat. The team is made up of all “at-risk” students, the main character being a kid on the run from his mob boss dad. Trigger warning for the series for violence, sexual assault/rape, abuse, drug use, I may be missing some things. It was so good though.

10. The War I Finally Won, by Kimberley Brubaker Bradley (A book with an LGBTQ+ protagonist). This is a really great sequel to another children’s book. See below for the synopsis.

11. The War that Saved My Life, by Kimberley Brubaker Bradley (a book about mental health). Okay, I don’t know why that is the category I put it in, other than the protagonist was told by her mother all her life that she was mentally disabled even though it was just physically. This book and it’s sequel above were AMAZING. It’s about a little girl and her brother in World War II England. The girl has a club foot and spends her life locked away in her abusive mother’s flat in London. She teaches herself to walk, and then she and her brother run away to join the other children being evacuated to the country. They are taken in by a woman who doesn’t want to care for them but in less than a day becomes totally ride-or-die for them (I love that trope). The woman is heavily implied to be gay and is grieving the death of her companion (hence the category above). I loved both books and highly recommend them.

12. Norse Mythology, by Neil Gaiman (a book by an author of a different ethnicity than you). British isn’t that different of an ethnicity from my pasty ass, but I was hard-pressed to put this wonderful book in a category. Apparently my disaster wife Loki is a dumbass and they just look clever because the other gods are stupider than they are. I loved all the stories but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t just pick this up exclusively because I’m fucking in love with Loki. I do really recommend it though.

13. Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow (a book that is also a stage play or musical). I’ve been meaning to read this for ages. It was really interesting, and a lot of it didn’t make it into the musical since it’s like 600 pages long so I learned a lot. I’m still reading it, and I’ve reached the duel so I’m almost finished. Thank god for audiobooks; if my slow-ass self were reading this, I’d still be on page like 100 and I’ve been reading it for a month. If you liked the musical I recommend you read this.

14. Go Set a Watchman, by Harper Lee (a book that you borrowed or was given to you as a gift). I had a hard time following this book. Lee went back and forth between the present (Scout in her twenties) and the 15-or-so years in between the end of TKAM and the beginning of GSAW. It wasn’t bad, but given the stories from Scout’s high school years that were really amusing and the most engaging of the whole book, I’d have preferred if the sequel took place during those years. I think this is the proof as to why most classics don’t have sequels. Read it, but don’t expect much.

15. Making Thinking Visible, by Ron Ritchhart, Mark Church, etc. (a book by two authors). I had to read this for work. Meh.

16. Fence, by CS Pacat (a book about or involving a sport). This is a comic by the same author as The Captive Prince trilogy. I’m behind in issues, but I did really like it. It’s about fencing, which I love, and it’s supposed to be gay eventually. And I’m pretty sure there’s a genderfluid or gnc character which I was super excited about. I recommend it.

17. The Orphelines in the Enchanted Castle, by Natalie Savage Carlson (a childhood classic you’ve never read). Okay, don’t tell my mother, but I don’t remember anything about this book. This year (at twenty-four) was the first time I read this old, old book that I have had since I was six or seven (don’t tell my mom that, either). It was from my mom/the tooth fairy and she loved it as a kid. I guess read it if you can find it and remind me what happened in it?

18. Simon vs. The Homosapien Agenda, by Becky Albertalli (a book you meant to read in 2017 but didn’t get to). Obviously I really loved this book if I also read the sequel and companion books. It was really good, and I definitely cried. If you liked the movie, read the book. It’s different in several ways. I think if you’re thinking in terms of trueness to the book, the movie was maybe not as good, but they’re both good as their own standalone things. But I highly recommend both.

19. Because of Winn-Dixie, by Kate DiCamillo (a book that involves a bookstore or library). This book is so good. It was interesting to reread it as an adult when I last read it as a third grader. I think I understood more than I did then and got different things out of it. I think everyone should reread books from their childhood because the books can still impact you, and they’ll probably affect you differently than when you were a child. So if the last time you read this book was as a young child, pick it up again. If you’ve never read it, still read it.

20. Six of Crows, by Leigh Bardugo (your favorite prompt from the 2015, 2016, or 2017 Popsugar reading challenges: the first book in a series you haven’t read before). This was so good. It was a really interesting book with characters I’ve already kind-of met since my DM recycled some names from the book into our campaign. But I’ve come to know Waylan with similar traits but in a different context, so it was fun to be reintroduced to him. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book where I was already attached to a character in a different context before reading the book, so that was new. I’m terrible at synopses, so if you want to know what this book is about, Google it I guess. And then read it.

[lifeafterthewake]

11.12.2018

I wasn’t and I’m still not sure what to do with this account. I’ve started it as an attempt at blogging and it’s clearly not working. Then again it usually is quite a challange for me to write as I live with a person who talks a lot and I seek their presence. Oftentimes I talk and all the content inside my mind gets spilled and discharged. But right now I’m in a bit of a pickle, staying at a friend’s house while they’re away so naturally more thoughts come to my mind and the need to express them is more apparent.

I wanted to write a little bit about self-control or self-control issues. I’ve never been good with self-control. Whether it’s money, food, learning for important exams, managing my time, speaking to other people or managing the power I have in relation to them - there were always issues.

My weight is an issue of great concern to me as my whole childhood and adolescence I was bombarded with contradicting communicates: that I eat too much, that I don’t eat enough, that I’m too fat, that my weight is fine, that I should do more physical activities while I was going to extracurricular classes almost all the time (karate, dancing, swimming, horse riding for a short period of time). My parents are obese and they eat too much and so I was overweight ever since I went to elementary school. The most I ever weighed was 102kg I think. I was 15 years old then. It was a turning point for me as when I crossed the 100kg line I thought to myself ‘this is too much, this is dangerous, I have to do something about it’. And so I did.

Before going into highschool, so 15/16 years old I’ve imposed a set of strict dietary rules upon myself. I ate every 3 hours 5-6 meals a day, I chewed every bite 30 times or until it was practically dissolved in my mouth, I’ve only eaten one meal at a time, so no multiple dish dinners. I avoided sweets and juice, drank mostly water. As a result I’ve lost... I’m not sure really. The least I weighed was 76 or 78 I think. Let’s go with 76. So I’ve lost 26 kilograms. In 6 months time. I looked like a different person. I wouldn’t say I was mentally happy with myself but physically I felt so much better. I still had to deal with comments from my family about how I don’t eat anything and how I look ‘so thin’ but it was managable.

I’ve stopped sticking to my ‘no sweets’ rule about a year into high school. It was hard to keep it up. Generally my eating habits have loosened since then but I still feel like it was much needed, even though it wasn’t a safe thing to do, for me to feel that I can achieve something if I try hard enough. You see, I never really had to try to do anything in school. I’m an intelligent person and I’ve never had problems with grades during my time in lower education. It is a bit of an issue now that I’m studying but it’s still mostly managable.

When I moved out of my parents house I got drunk on the money. I still can’t responsibly spend my money although I have taught myself to spend less on food. My father rented me a flat and sent in about 330$ a month for me to live on. I don’t live in US or UK so it’s actually quite a lot of money for a student’s needs (for measure: a loaf of bread in a chainstore costs about 0,68$; 1,5L bottle of water 0,39$; 1kg of chicken breast +/-4,74$) . In the beginning I was spending it like crazy, mostly on food that I was eventually throwing away. I was cooking a lot back then too. You see, I say I’m bad with money but if I am bad then my parents are horrible with it. They probably spend about 530$ a month on food itself, and probably throw away about a 1/5 of it. Every time I visit their house the fridge is brimming with food (and it’s usually cold cuts or cooked meat that I don’t eat often anymore). So you can imagine what kind of an environment I was subconsciously trying to recreate and why it was so costly.

Food apart I don’t manage my money well unless I absolutely have to. My father usually sends me extra cash whenever I need it so I got lazy about controlling my spendings, I splurge on material items and then run out of money for food or I irresponsibly spend money on food in the city center because I don’t have time to cook and I hate planning meals ahead so I run out of cash very quickly (a dinner in the downtown area costs me about 5,26$ per main course; for the same amount I can cook a meal for 3 days). This semester I got super lazy with my diet as well, preciesly because I had so classes at uni. I usually try to avoid grains and wheat because my body doesn’t deal well with gluten in excess. Lately I’ve let myself completely loose (because of personal reasons as well) and I feel horrible.

I feel horrible to the point where I’ve made myself vomit my food twice during the last two weeks. The first time was when I came back from my grandparents’ (02.12). I ate a lot during the small party they threw and I was feeling very sick. ‘I ate a lot’ doesn’t cut it. I stuffed myself. Partially because seeing my family is always very stressful for me, it’s emotionally difficult, I can’t seem to find a way to deal with them and I think it’s getting worse the longer I ignore the issues that I should address. But it’s exactly the lack of self-control that is keeping me from doing it. My parents are very manipulative and the slightest chance they get to change the topic or steer the discussion in a different direction than the issues that I’m trying to discuss they take it and I fall for it. I get emotionally torn apart and die inside and after some time I realise that nothing has really been discussed and I feel like shit. And it keeps repeating itself so I get discouraged even more and it’s even harder to touch upon anything relevant to me.

The second time was today (11.12). I came back to my friend’s flat after spending crazy amount of money on home appliances in Ikea. I went to a shop and bought ingredients for a cake and food to eat for the next few days. I bought a loaf of bread because I can’t control my goddamn self. And a bar of chocolate. Went back to the flat. Ate 5 pieces of bread with generous amount of butter and a cheese slice on each piece. Ate the whole bar of peanutbutter chocolate. May I add I was alterating: I ate 4 sandwiches, I ate a bar of chocolate, I ate 1 more sandwich. Plus I’ve drank half a cup of tea. So then I felt sick. There are a few types of sick in my world. There is drunk-sick, there is stretched stomach pressing on intestines-sick, there is stressed-sick, there is acidic food-sick and there is wheat-sick. We’re going with both wheat and stomach pressing on intestines sick this time.

I don’t really vomit involuntarily unless I’m really drunk and I haven’t been really drunk for at least 2 years I believe. It’s always a decision just as much as spending money is a decision, just as much as stuffing myself with food that makes me feel sick is a decision. So I’ve decided to make myself vomit. In a way it’s cathactic, in another it feels like my mental health is in a really bad state right now.

There is a point I want to make here. I feel like overating isn’t a purely physical act just as eating disorders are mental health disorders. For me overeating is a way of dealing with emotions. I externalise my emotions, put them into food. I then put the food in my self. In a way we always do that but we’re also animals that have to survive so eating and hunger are totally normal and natural. When we analyse something we put a point of focus where we see fit. So I put in my self. I chew it, swallow it, stomach it, it goes through my intestines. All the time my body is breaking this food apart into simpler substances and redistributing them throughout my body. Perhaps the emotions I put into food come back into my body with these simpler substances going straight into the cells. I put bread inside of me, a product that I don’t deal well with - a testimony of hatred. Bread gets broken apart, emotions get inside of me - I get fatter, my nose gets stuffed, I get atopic eczema. Vomitting is an act of desperation. It’s not as much about getting the food out of my system - it’s about getting rid of the discomfort I’m experiencing because of the food I put into myself. But this discomfort is an effect of my actions.

I’ve been feeling like a puddle of pure terrible for about a month now. No, for exactly a month. I’ve done something very stupid and hurtful to people I’ve felt sympathy for and to myself and I can’t get over it. I can’t get over many feelings from my past as well. They haunt me. It’s easier to vomit and for a split second feel like I - this bag of flesh - am not anything much more than a bag of flesh feeling all these sensations that you get when you throw up. But then your thinking and feeling kick in. I still feel like trash and I still haven’t dealt with those feelings that are inside. I’ve tried to push them out and eat them in a different way but in the end I couldn’t deal with them. I hope that I can teach myself how to be in control of my life to the point where I am able to deal with my feelings before I hurt myself or someone else. I want to do it step by step. Right now I’ll stick to avoiding wheat and eating more consciously. It’s the little things that make up the base of our existence. It’s the little things that will pull us apart rolling away if we lose control over them.

---

Laser hair removal update: had my third appointment on monday (10.11). Sometime after my first post the lymph nodes on my neck got infected and it hurt like a mofo. So for the second treatment we went with lower power. Not much inflammation afterwards but also not much effect. My beard is thinning out but not many bald patches so far. For this appointment we went up with power. Very painful especially down the middle of my face and neck (mustache, under the lips, chin, under the chin). A lot of inflammation after the treatment. Today is a little better, a lot of zits, I hope the hair strands will come out easily. Spraying myself with Octanisept and trying to avoid face-skin contact. Doesn’t hurt, feels slightly hot and I’m still puffy. 

[guiisooooo-blog]

Love in 15 years

This is all true btw and all names remain anonymous. Love can erupt anywhere, anytime, and with anyone. My love started at the young age of 5. My first taste of love started when we talked in the same class. We started as friends, but i felt something different compared to my other guy friends. It was a feeling like no other. My heart would tremble and fall at her knees. I remember wanting to have her as mine and mourning for her to be with me, but the standards of my fellow classmates and society turned against me. They would forced me to play with them instead of letting me be with her. My bottled up emotions and frustration were taken out onto another girl and I ended up doing something i would regret for years to come. So much so that I would regret saying it even now. Fast forward to first grade and I had to transfer schools. The same girl from kindergarten had come to the same class. I knew it was destiny and I had to take action. This time I took part in the wrong crowd to try and impress her. I changed my look. I started to wear jordans and picked fights. All this did was leave the girl I wanted to impress with a disgusted look and and left a bad taste with her. I was devastated. Time passes and I continued with my look. With my ruined educational reputation, I took a test to transfer into the GT program. I easily passed and took the opportunity. A restart; something to get me out from the old. I needed this. 4th grade and I was in the new program. This was the time when childhood happiness was taken away from me. My mother was away for surgery and the intense workload on my lazy self had me in despair. I wasn't interested in anything and almost never went outside anymore. I hear the doorbell ring. It was my was one of my friends from the 2nd grade. He asked if I wanted to come over and hang out with another person. I jumped on the idea not having gone out in a while. Little did I know I would come to regret this decision. I came to his house with his other friend who lived close by and we played around in his basement. Most of my audience should be aware of what happens in the basement, but my 10 year old self didn’t know. My friend suggest we play a horror game with the lights off, and that is where it started to head south. It was a game similar to hide and seek, but in a small pitch dark room. We would try and find each other and make them afraid. The 3rd round in I started in my corner spot and the lights turned off. Nothing was different than the other rounds. I felt my way around things when suddenly one of my friends jumped on top of me and pulled his trousers down. He dragged himself, lewd and predatory, onto my face. The other friend saw this action and proceeded to do the same to join in on the fun. I was violated and never looked at another male the same way. I dragged myself through the rest of elementary school and went onto a new part of my life; middle school. 6th grade started and the same I noticed the same girl from kindergarten. The same girl I wanted to have. She was like an addiction that I couldn’t get away from. I idolized her in every way, in a similar fashion to a crazy fan. And in the same way as a crazy fan , I physically distanced myself from her and then somewhere along the way, emotionally as well. Looking back it was a simple infatuation. Something I saw as destiny and something I thought I was entitled to was boiled down to lust. Summer after 6th grade my mother started working and didn’t want me left alone so she signed me up for a summer camp. I resisted this idea but reluctantly ended up going. I met someone there. A girl to be more accurate. She was cute, talented, and shared similar tastes to mine. A “perfect” girl. She ended up confessing to me on the gym bleachers nearing the end of camp. I was surprised and didn’t know what to do. I tried to stay oblivious, but some of my feelings would seep through. It was the last day of camp and I mustered the courage to do something. I heartbroken to learn that she had moved away. It was even more painful that she would have gone to the same school as me. In the end I would have to same regrets as most; not doing enough. During the 7th grade, my interest in girls reached a peak. One girl took advantage of me. There was a party over the summer and she cuddled up next to me on the couch. The same day she confessed to me over text. I agreed because of the peak of my interest, but the relationship quickly ended because the agreement was on a whim. 8th grade and I met this girl through my friends. I didn’t know she went to my school because we had no classes together. We started texting over skype when I asked her how to be “cool”. We kept on messaging each other and the conversation would drag on to longer than I would usually stay awake. We would also start conversing during lunch time. While we were playing league My friends started to talk about who this girl liked. I myself got curious and I said I would stay up 48 hours to hear who she liked. Hour one started and I kept her updated throughout the entire 2 day I remember I said something she let me guess at who she liked twice before it started and I guess some random asian guy and them one of my friends I played league with. Both were wrong. I remember saying something during the first half completely oblivious to her feelings towards me. She asked me why I was staying up to find out who she liked and I told her “I was going to make a joke about liking her but stop myself”. It makes me sad that someone could be that oblivious. I would anticipate her texts. She was my salvation from loneliness and I longed for her. After texting for so long I imagine it was natural that i developed feelings, but I didn’t know what I felt. Was it love, competition, or nothing more than pure friendship? She left me in a confused state and I left me wanting more and more from her. We kept talking and talking during the whole experience. I recall catching a cold and she let me take 2 hours off. I offered her a couple IOU’s that she still hasn't spent yet. I finished the challenge and I slept for the next couple hours. After Waking up after my deep slumber one of my league friends tried to convince me that she liked me. I disregarded that fact. Holy shit I was oblivious. A couple hours later I found out the truth. My friend was right. The text hit me right in the heart; “its u”. I was breath taken and didn’t know what to respond with. I regret responding with something as disgusting as “nice 1”. Later I would ask her if she wanted to pursue a relationship with me when the underlying truth was I wanted to start one with her. She agreed and an awkward mess would be born from it. We would continue texting and interacting as if nothing happened. A couple days later I asked her why she liked me. This message would stay with me for the duration of our relationship.”so i like u because i think ur sweet and funny and i like ur personality and i think ur cute” I finally started something and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I played it safe and let her do what I thought she wanted, but I should have done more. I wanted to do more. I was immature and when I looked at other couples I became jealous. After summer started we haven't gone a single date and I described it as “engaged in a romantic relationship” instead of “dating”. This description can describe why I broke up with her. I thought that I couldn’t get anywhere from the point that we were at right now. My immaturity lead to me calling it more of a break than a break up. 9th grade started and I was forced to see the girl that I had broke up with. We exchanged mediocre small talk and shallow facial expressions. I avoided her for awhile until my emotions erupted. I asked if she hated me. She said that she didn’t but I wasn’t so sure. She explained that it was a misunderstanding and she thought that it was what I wanted. The misunderstanding was cleared to a degree and we continued onward with a more friendly relationship. The same confusing feelings started to bubble up to a steam. Christmas was approaching and I had to find a gift for one of my friends.She lived near the store so I decided to bring her a coffee with my friend after I had finished shopping. It was a caramel macchiato;sweet and warming. I stayed at her house for a bit and played some games, but whenever I looked at her I would feel my heart would get excited and I wanted keep my eyes locked onto her. Valentines day was approaching and I had my chance to prove my worth. She agreed to go on a date with me after a bit of pleading. The day arrived and I bought a box of donuts to start a conversation. She declined however. I assumed she already had a few. No words were said afterwards. The bus ride there I didn’t even sit next to her. A couple friends were there with us which made the experience even more awkward than it would have been. The date just consisted of us getting frozen yogurt and talking. It ended with her walking across the street into a different space. A space unreachable by me. I thought I had grown, but it turns out I was the same as before; an immature little boy. I was disappointed in myself and I didn’t want to continue the pursuit because I now knew the truth. I simply wasn’t ready. March came along and the girl I used to want started dating someone else. One of my best friends no less. It left me with a sour and jealous taste in my mouth, but it taught me a valuable lesson. Don’t be a little bitch.

[wamawamachihuahuamama]

1. Favorite place to write.

On break during school or work.

2. Favorite part of writing.

The exciting, vibrant, fuzzy feeling I get when something comes out really good.

3. Least favorite part of writing.

Writer's block.

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?

Not writing but still holding onto the someday mantra.

5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.

I don't really know, I read a lot. Like A LOT a lot.

6. Favorite character you ever created.

Justin Gabe Leon of The Consequences of Beth. He is supposed to be like the good guy, but he is way worse than anyone realizes.

7. Favorite author.

Stephen King.

8. Favorite trope to write.

Hurt/Comfort.

9. Least favorite trope to write.

Anything with a bad ending.

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

l'd write a story with my middle school best friend that shall not be named. Likely a romance because we both are reluctantly prone to writing them.

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

I write like crazy and professionally for like a week and then I get busy with something else and the inspiration disperses and I only write sometimes. Like only when I get an idea or something. A lot of fanfictions to be honest.

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?

I tell myself it is in my head. Most everyone who had read my stuff thinks it has a lot of potential.

13. How do you deal with writers block?

I try to write through it. If I'm really stuck, I rewind and rewrite already written scenes until I get a further idea of what to do with it.

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?

Probably when I wrote a fanfiction of Soul Eater and I needed some information about some secondray characters. Most of the time i go by a write what you know mantra.

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

My inspiration comes from other writers works.

16. Where do you take your motivation from?

My motivation comes from nothing except random feelings of "what the hell am I doing with my life."

17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

On average, I write very little. It's mostly whatever I have to write for class.

18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?

I rewrite as I go. Then again at the end. Then repeat. It just keeps going.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

“I was woken by the gunshots.”

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

Amidst a dreary fog, a young woman finds herself disoriented by looming lights, becoming closer and larger by the second. Her vision glares and the few paces she could see in front of herself fade away. She blindly throws her arms out to keep upright as she continues towards her destination and, more importantly, away from the glowing orbs behind her. Just as her vision begins to return, it is enveloped in darkness again. Had the lights dispersed? She glances over her shoulder for a moment. They are still there, but smaller, and concealed by the trees. She sighs relievedly and turns back around. A cold chill rushes past her. Annoyedly, she tugs at the strings of her hoodie. The thick fabric falls over her eyes. Before she can even reach up to move it out of her view, she kicks herself in the heel. Flailing about wildly, she stumbles forward. Long blades of grass grab at her ankles. 

A strangled yelp escapes her as she finally hits the ground. Her palms burn, sending worse tingling sensations up her arms until they give out completely. She fights to sit up again, flailing backward and landing on her butt. Cold rainwater soaks through her jeans. She grimaces. 

Then, she gasps. Little shards of rocks cover her palms, trapped in tiny cuts. She brushes them away the best she can. Most of the pebbles fall onto her lap while others remain deeply embedded. Cursing to herself, she looks around for something to work them out with. More of the same tiny rocks surround her. They stretch far in front of her and even farther to her left. It’s a driveway.

Scrambling to her feet, she begins to dash down the road. Nothing appears in front of her or changes around her. She slows to a stop, breathing heavily. It’s too dark to tell if she is heading in the right direction. Everything is either black, gray, or disguised by scattered, glittery orbs. The lights begin to form into one, brightening the path in front of her. Not too far away is a house.

Despite how long she has been looking for it, it’s nothing extravagant. A simple trailer hidden by trees and lined by bushes. It’s hardly visible at all in fact. As she gets closer though, she notices good elements to the structure. A small porch leads up to the door, beside it is a bush, and between the two is just enough space for her to slip between.  

Crouching down, she pulls dead leaves and other muck over her like a blanket. Another sickening feeling moves through her as the moist goo makes contact with her bare skin. Or maybe the twists through her gut are caused by the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of a car. The vehicle stops and the lights go out. 

A door flies open and someone steps out. He wanders cautiously towards her without shutting the door. Of course he saw her and of course he is going to be smart about confrontation. She closes her eyes and listens to him walk. Each stomp is closer than the last. Then it stops again and her eyelids turn orange. 

The yellow circle from a flashlight luminates the siding above her head. It rests there for a moment before dashing across the house. It reaches the woods and turns around again, following the same path before landing on her. Their eyes meet and he drops the flashlight. 

A minute passes and neither makes  an effort to retrieve it. It’s all so overwhelming. He anticipated a startled racoon; or even a deer; not the cowering eyes of his highschool sweetheart. Her name and everything else he wants to say attempts to seep between his lips, but he bites down before his thoughts become verbalized. If he allows himself to say, or do anything for that matter, he’s terrified of what he would do. 

The light was on them for merely a second, but that's all it took for him to recognize her and hear him. Six years should have been more than enough time for them to become strangers, but with her expression it is obvious she had no trouble identifying him as well. Picking up the flashlight and redirecting it to her, he takes in her aged form. Her hair is the same length and she bares the same expressions. Her name fights at the tip of his tongue again, the only thing he can think to say. “Beth?”

21. Post the last sentence you wrote in one of your WIP’s.

Not again, not again. 

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

Yeah, haven’t figured that out yet. 

23. Single or multi POV, and why?

Single, definitely single. It can get confusing and I find it to be a bit of lazy writing... don’t come after me. 

24. Poetry or prose, and why?

Definitely poetry. I write a lot of it to decipher my feelings and it just sorta sounds cool. 

25. Linear or non-linear, and why?

It depends on the story. I definitely have a habit of writing non-linear. I’m not the type to start with a whole bunch of background, you learn as you go just like when you meet someone. 

26. Standalone or series, and why?

Standalone. I don’t like it as a reader because I want the conclusion within reach and I have a feeling a lot of my readers feel the same way. I can live with torturing with a dead character or two but I cannot make them die of anticipation. 

27. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

I used to share rough drafts with people, but now I don’t even share polished stories. I don’t want to upset people or make them worry about me or get a bad review or to have my ideas stolen and done better... yeah, they are kinda for my eyes alone. 

29. Who do you write for?

I write for my future readers and for my own enjoyment. 

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

My favorite line I have ever written has to be “Don’t let the probable be more important than the definite.” 

31. Hardest character to write.

The hardest character to write is someone very positive. 

32. Easiest character to write.

The easiest character to write is Madeline from The Locket. 

33. Do you listen to music when you’re writing?

Sometimes. It depends on where I am when I am writing. 

34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

Handwritten. It’s more memorable based on some studies I’ve read on studying and I have an addiction to notebooks. 

35. Tell some backstory details about one of your characters in your story

 Bethany is the accidental baby of a successful business women who abandoned her and an abusive, alcoholic father. She pushes people away to avoid being hurt and doesn’t really want anyone around anyways. Then she befriended the new boy at school and kissed him during a spur of a moment, last minute spiteful action against her late father. An orphan, she must trust the one person who doesn’t let her push him away. 

36. A spoiler for story 

Peter dies at the end. 

37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

“It’s not the absense of fear, it’s over coming it.” - Emma Watson.

38. Have you shared your outline of your story ________ with someone? If so, what did they think of it?

No, I’ve never shared an outline. I shared verbal ideas with my friends in middle school and “finished” stories with friends in elementary school. 

39. Do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

No, I don’t base my characters off of real people. I think it is wrong. It is a way to deal I’m sure, but it is also hurtful. 

40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?

Both. I write fanfiction for practice and fiction as the “real deal”. 

41. How many stories do you work on at one time?

I work on one and will do random little prompts in between. 

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

My characters are the first thing that comes to me. I don’t really know how I think of them, they mostly come from my dreams. 

43. Are you an avid reader?

Yes, I read and read and read and read some more. 

44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

The best piece of feedback I’ve ever gotten was from my 5th grade teacher after just I started writing and finished my 1st “novel”. I still have the sticky note hanging on my wall she stuck on the inside of my notebook. 

45. Worst piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

The worst piece feedback I’ve gotten is when my media teacher (I write articles) told me I’d make a good librarian because I’m organized, punctual, and love to read... but wouldn’t make it as a writer. 

46. What would your story look like as a tv show or movie? 

My story would definitely be a movie. It would have a cloudy, depressing filter on it like in Tim Burton films, but be live action and happy in parts. 

47. Do you start with characters or plot when working on a new story?

I start with the characters. I get attached and I form the world around them. 

48. Favorite genre to write in.

Realistic fiction. 

49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?

The middle of the story is the hardest to write. When I begin I know how I want to start and end and am “faking it till I make it” in the middle. 

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

The weirdest story idea I’ve ever had was definitely based on some dream I’ve had. There has been a lot of odd ones, but the one I actually made into a book idea was about a dystopian family with a father who is a part of a cult who kidnaps children and chemically manipulate the brains so they appear different then they really are. Or feed them to a giant, invisible man to keep them from killing the entire cult. 

51. Describe the aesthetic of your story in 5 sentences or words.

My stories are dark with a sarcastic overtone. 

52. How did writing change you?

Writing has made me more sensible to myself. Like, I understand me more. 

53. What does writing mean to you?

Writing is a way of living and of communication. 

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

To just do it. You don’t have to do it now or for the next twenty years. Having a colorful language and huge imagination is what makes you one, not how many words you have written.