#my house is spotless which is very nice but also means no little chores to busy myself with

[whentherewerebicycles]

my little loaf :)) my beloved guy :))))

I finished my rec letters last night and then hung out with my sister and ordered Indian food. got up early this morning and worked quite hard from 6:30-11:30 at work finishing a presentation draft + a round of revisions for this big project we’re wrapping up in the next few weeks. I might do just a little bit more work on it today—I’d like to go through the doc and make a detailed revision to-do list for myself so I have it all in one place—but then I’ll be done for the week.

as I was working on that project this morning I noticed that I was experiencing a deep sense of satisfaction & fulfillment, and it struck me that this will be the first time I’ve completed a big writing project (the kind involving multiple rounds of feedback and revision) since february 2022. I almost have happy tears in my eyes just recalling and re-experiencing the feeling now lol. my creative output has been been mostly stalled for nine months now and I’ve been thinking of that stalledness largely in terms of products—I’m not producing good work, I’m not producing stories or drafts, I’m not even really producing good story concepts. but I think what I really miss and feel the absence of in these creatively fallow periods are the rhythms of writing work itself. there’s something about that cycle of planning, drafting, revising, drafting, revising, drafting, revising that feels intensely good and pleasurable to me—that calm, relaxed yet deeply focused flow state where you are continually assessing your own work and making small purposeful changes and then assessing the changes. I love the work itself and when I am cut off from it, internally or externally, I feel like an important part of myself starts to wither. I know this stalled state isn’t forever (it never is), but I would be so much happier and calmer if I were absorbed in work 😩 but then also who knows—maybe this small little revelation will unlock something for me and help me figure out how to bring writing back into my daily life, even if it’s not in the fiction-writing mode that I’ve been trying to make myself work in.

[detectivehannibal]

Warm Beverages

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Brief sexual reference.

Requested by: @no-homo-hank

Prompt: hey!! excited to see you’re writing again 🥰 honestly anything fluffy would be great with hannibal ,, im craving somethin soft. maybe some winter cuddling and hot chocolate making? thanks!!

Word Count: 1,064

“I take joy in being busy.”

__

The snow was steadily falling from the gray sky outside the comfort of your home. Little white flurries and decorative snowflakes fluttered through the air, sticking to every surface outside. The ground was coated with the cold snow that was expected to continue well into the next day. It was dreary, miserable weather. There wasn’t much to do other than stay inside and have a day to yourself. You were perfectly fine with this.

Hannibal, though, wasn’t a fan. He was extremely active, and he preferred to be occupied as often as possible. The fact that he was stuck inside with nothing to do was a bit maddening. However, it helped that you were staying over and keeping him company. If you weren’t there, you were convinced he’d get himself into something he didn’t need to. 

The living room was possibly the coziest room in his home. He always kept it clean and always had a fire going when it was cold outside. You were perfectly content to lounge around on the sofa with him all day. He had finally accepted that he wasn’t getting out of the house today, so he settled in nicely.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him as you snuggled further next to him, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The only sounds in the room were coming from the crackling fireplace and the occasional house creak. Even though Hannibal was more at ease now, he began to get a little shifty after a while. You looked up from the book that was nestled in your hands, holding your place. You looked up at him, knowing he was getting antsy.

“It’s only been half an hour since you sat down.” You announced.

“I’m aware.” He mumbled.

He had done just about every chore and task he could possibly do around the house. The laundry was folded and put away, the windows were so clean you could almost accidentally try to walk through them, the counters were spotless. He had done everything. 

You returned your attention back to your book, but soon put it away when Hannibal’s heavy sigh interrupted you. 

“Do you need something to do?” You asked sassily.

He didn’t say anything. He’d rather die than admit a weakness. You laughed heartily and tapped his shoulder playfully.

“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go make us something?” You suggested.

His eyes brightened as if that was the best idea he had heard all day. He scampered into the kitchen, almost taking you off of the couch with him. The living room grew quiet again, but you caught the clatter of pots and pans every now and then. You were able to finally finish your chapter peacefully, and just in the nick of time too.

Hannibal returned soon enough with two mugs with some sort of steaming liquid inside. You tossed your book side, sitting up and reaching for one of them. 

“Okay, chef. What do we have here?” You asked.

The scent of chocolate filled your nose, a delightful rush coming over you. You sat with your legs folded, Hannibal taking his previous position once more.

“It’s heated cocoa powder with milk, vanilla, and sugar.” He explained.

You raised a brow.

“You mean hot chocolate?”

He shrugged.

“Yes.”

You laughed again, sipping gingerly. You groaned happily at the feel of the warm beverage filling your belly and spreading over you. He really knew how to make anything. The sweet taste was heavenly over your tastebuds. Even Hannibal was impressed. His arm raised to invite you back to his side, to which you obliged.

“Do you think you can handle sitting here long enough to let yourself finish your drink?” You asked jokingly.

“Of course I can. I don’t lack self control.” He stated.

“A day off isn’t a bad thing, Hanni. You could use it.” You countered.

“I take joy in being busy.” He explained.

You couldn’t argue with him there. He was very prideful in being busy and successful. As he should. He worked hard for everything. He drained the rest of his drink in record time, you scoffed as you slowly sipped yours. 

“I know you do. I just don’t like it when you overwork yourself, you know?” You expressed.

“I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that I know my limits,” He told you; “I’m well set as long as I can find something to do.”

You could feel his stare on you. He liked to take in your presence. It made you nervous in the beginning, but you eventually learned that was one of his many love languages. You knew that everyone showed love differently. Hannibal seemed to tap into all of them. He surely was an acts of service kind of guy. He also showed physical touch and words of affirmation. He was kind of the full package.

His gaze raked over your eyes, your skin, the way your sweater brought out your best features. You were a perfect human being to him. He never thought of you having physical flaws, or any flaws for that matter. You were almost too perfect in his eyes. He craved perfection. He strived for it. It was no wonder he was drawn to you. You were everything he had ever wanted.

His hand fiddled with the hem of your sweater as he watched you. Your lips gently wrapped around the rim of the mug as you took your final sip to empty it. He felt his heart jump when suddenly your eyes met. He watched your pupils shrink in size as you looked away from the light of the fire to look at him.

He casually took the empty mug from you, setting it aside as if he hadn’t just been staring at you. He kissed you before you could ask any questions, the taste of chocolate still prevalent. You shifted to straddle his hips, taking his face in your hands. His arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him. You broke away briefly, your lips just barely touching his. You felt his heartbeat racing through his loosely buttoned shirt. Knowing him, he could probably smell yours.

You seductively spoke before delving back into him, ensuring that you’d be busy at least for the next hour.

“I think we just found something we can do.”

[aloesarchives]

Joji Narushima Headcanons pt:2

This is the first piece for 2021, let’s go! These are mostly self-indulgent headcanons I have about Joji when I reread FOTS. 

Heads up: Use of female pronouns 

Man, Joji is a whole ass husband. Like legit, if you’re married to this man, you better hold on to him because you’ll have a hard time getting some that’s like him.

Joji always does his share of housework and doesn’t believe only one person should do it. He’ll do the dishes, clean the house, vacuum, keep the bathroom spotless, etc. Damn, this man even can do laundry and fold that shit neatly in the laundry basket. 

He also doesn’t mind helping you do these chores too. If you ask him for help, he’ll come help you do them. The laundry basket is a little too heavy to carry to your room? Joji will not only carry it for you but also help you fold the clothes in the basket as well.

Ugh, we stan such a wholeass husband, amazing

Joji doesn’t have a carefree “I don’t care” attitude. It’s more of him being okay with certain situations or is just unfazed by most things. Basically “It is what it is then/ This is cool, I guess”. 

With that being said, Joji is 90% down to do anything. Boost it to 99% if it’s with you. Which means you can drag this man anywhere you want and he won’t complain. Whether it’s taking him to the mall, exploring around, or getting groceries, he’ll never protest to you.

Now that I mentioned it, Joji is more than okay buying groceries for you. Especially, when you’re very busy or for convenience. Like when you just finished making dinner and noticed you were running low on a dozen eggs and some vegetables. You know Joji was coming home soon so you called him to ask if he could stop by to get what you needed. He was perfectly okay with it and came home with what you asked. Half of the time, Joji involuntarily goes to the supermarket to get groceries. This mostly happens in the mornings when he’s home and you’re still waking up. Joji knows how to buy groceries, which is a blessing. Mostly because when it’s just a casual trip to the Supermarket, he legit knows what to buy and get for the fridge. He always knows what to get and never anything solely for himself.

You mostly, by which you buy almost all, buy Joji’s clothes. This is because when you first started living for Joji, you took a look in his closet and you dragged him to the mall. Nothing god awful, just more so questionable. You do allow him to have a say and opinion when choosing clothes. But ultimately you have the final say in what clothes you buy for him. Your efforts to give him decent clothes and a style pays off when his colleagues ask about where he got his clothes and he’ll just say “(Y/N) bought this for me.” Many of them know you because you frequently visit Rukoshin so they know who you are. They are in awe about Joji’s clothes because they’re actually cool and look good on him. Longshen and Sei are forever grateful to you for giving Joji decent clothes, while Kentaro, Tsutomu, and Shido are asking where you bought them.

But not gonna lie, you purposely buy him clothes that he’ll like and look good in. Specifically the second part. You always buy him well fitted short sleeves. You say it’ll suit Joji, which is true, but he also looks a little hot and handsome in it. Joji likes the shirt(s) and you get a nice view, a win win situation right here.

It’s the small things that matter to him. Chilling on the couch watching tv, man’s gonna bring you close to him and he got a firm grip around you. A little cold outside? Joji will literally give you his sweater/jacket to you. Fell asleep on the couch? Man will throw a blanket over you and fix your sleep position so you don’t wake up sore. He’ll do that for you.

Joji would straight up carry you to bed and tuck you in. Caresses your cheek and hair, even kissing your forehead. Oh my god lord have mercy on my soul

On the topic of sleep, Joji mostly sleeps without a shirt. He sleeps in sweatpants or shorts depending on his mood and season. Joji is a moderate sleeper, leaning a little bit on the heavier side. Joji doesn’t move a lot in his sleep which gives you the perfect opportunity to either sleep on top of him or hugging his side. Joji, however, has a thing where he needs to sleep close to you no matter what. You could be facing away from him when you fell asleep, but in the morning you found yourself with Joji’s arm under your head and the other on your waist holding you close.

But Joji being shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants is a sight for eyes that I would shamelessly stare at. Don’t lie, you would too, come join me sis.

As I mentioned in my previous headcanon, Joji tries to stay out of fighting in general if they are not in a sparring or tournament. (AKA street or unground fighting) But I really mean it when he wants to stay out of it as much as possible. Even when his life is threatened, he doesn’t want to fight. He’ll fight for self-defense purposes but never out of his own reasons. This is due to him not wanting to complicate things with you. Although he is not that very expressive, it doesn’t mean he’s apathetic, lacking human sympathy or understanding. He knows you, and he knows you well. He knows you worry about him when he fights even though you know fully well he can handle himself.(As Joji has won some championships and been in the finals for most of Rokushin’s tournaments and you being there at said tournaments). But he doesn’t blame you though, you don’t like seeing your hubby getting injured or hurt at all. Again, you are fully aware that he is one of Rukoshin’s top fighters but it doesn’t mean he’ll always come out unscathed. You’re not super paranoid or worrisome. You’re just concerned for him, and that is completely normal. It shows Joji you care for him and he doesn’t want to put you through a lot of stress. Plus, you being worrisome/stressed out over Joji never sits well with him so he doesn’t become reckless in order to not put you through that. Plus, Joji has to stay out of trouble because one of Rukoshin’s rules is no underground matches. So he pretty much has enough reason not to do anything stupid.

Again, as I mentioned before in my previous Joji headcanons, you and Joji used to take care of Koga when he was younger. Honestly, you loved taking care of Koga, whether he was young or older. But you had very fond memories of taking care of young Koga. One time, you and Joji took him to the mall because of errands and window shopping. You told them you’ll be back as you had to run into a store to pick up something. When you came out, you saw Koga holding a cute teddy bear while holding Joji’s hand. Turns out Joji has a hard time saying no to his young nephew and Joji bought him that. Well, since Koga was happy you were happy too. At one point, a nice old lady asked if Koga was your son. You replied no and said that he was your nephew. The old woman smiled at you and said you would be a great mother while handing you a bag of freshly made mochi. That interaction has never left you and she wasn’t wrong since Koga loved you so much. And he still does to this day but he will never say it out loud to you.

Koga always called you Auntie (Y/N) and that shit was adorable as hell.

You bet Joji’s wallpaper is you. The lock screen was of you and little Koga smiling. But his home screen, his HOME SCREEN, his home screen is the two of you on your wedding. When you saw this, you asked him why he chose that picture to be his wallpaper. He said you were very beautiful on that day and your smile was something he loved about you. Damn, if you never felt so warm before, here you are.

Joji, for whatever reason, buys you gifts even though you don’t ask for them. Not like buying super expensive stuff or going a spending spree. But gifts, mostly small ones. He came home with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, once in a while he’ll buy you a stuffed animal. But the most notable one was on your first wedding anniversary, he got you this beautiful sapphire diamond accented silver necklace. It was so beautiful that Joji said it reminded him of you when he saw it on a display case when he was at the mall. Bruh, you cried because no one has ever thought about you in such a way. Man, I would’ve cried too. The best part about the necklace is that it matches your wedding ring. So when you don’t want to wear it on your finger, you just put it on your necklace. You mostly do this so you won’t lose your ring and to make others aware you’re off the market. Sis, show that thing off!

See look, Joji loves and trusts you with his whole soul and being. However, he knows there are going to be a bunch of goons and people that just want to bother you, more so during the time of the menjin army conflict. Around this time, Joji was like “(Y/N), I love you but you have to be on guard for a few months until I say so”. Depending on who you’re hanging out with, he’ll ask them to watch over you while he got stuff at Rokushin. Almost everyone in Rokushin knows you so they don’t mind his request mostly because he almost threatens them so. Anyway, you’re likely gonna always hangout with Katsuya. Mostly because Joji and him hangout and are on good terms with each other.

Joji really likes to eat. He loves food so much. Your dates were just you and Joji going to food places and eating there. When he’s hungry, he’ll buy some and call you to see if you want something. Even if you don’t want anything, he’ll buy you a small snack or something. One of your languages of love between the two of you is food.

Joji is extremely caring. There are times where he’s up at night and wants to talk to you but he knows you’re sleeping and doesn’t want to disturb you and your sleep. He’ll check up on you when he gets the chance, not too frequent and not too distant either. One time, you were hungry and it was late in the afternoon. You asked Joji if he wanted to eat out. He said he was free and you two went on your escapade. 

When Koga was training with Joji, you would visit and check up on his progress. Depending how bruised and beaten he is from sparring, you patch him up and bring food for the two of them.

The reason Joji has a thing for biting was when he was training in the mountain he fought a bear. And the only way he defeated the bear was by biting it really hard. So that’s why he keeps mentioning biting to Koga. But he also likes biting something else if you catch my drift.

Joji got nice hands. Sure they’re rough and have some callousness, but they are warm and nice. Like when you hold his hand, it feels so nice. When he’s caressing your waist, head or cheek, it just feels so comforting and it hits differently.

His hugs are so nice, they are so good.

Joji is more on the receiving end of affection then giving it. Not like he won’t hug you or hold your hand. It’s more of him going with the flow and reciprocating back at you. 

Joji likes being close but never is clingy. He knows you got your things to do and he doesn’t want to restrict your time. He knows when to give space.

Sometimes, Koga will ask you what you saw in Joji and you have been married to him for at least a decade. The only thing you tell him is how Joji has treated you and that’s the only answer you give him. Koga is clueless but you tell him he’ll understand when he really thinks about it. But not too much to damage his own brain.

Joji is such a good husband, loving, caring and respectful

King shit 10/10

[darkdevasofdestruction]

New Kids - Kakyoin Noriaki x Fem!Reader

Yes, I finished my exam session. Yes, it was 1 month filled with so many exams, and my brain is shortcircuited. Yes, I watched 4 parts out of 5 from JoJo. Yes, I regret nothing. Yes, I got only top marks. Yes, I love Cherry Boy Kaky, Dio, Caesar, Rohan, Joseph, Jotaro. Yes, I will write about JoJo from now on.

---

“Hey, Jotaro? Do you have any chores to do? Or any homework? Can I help you out with anything at all?” I ask Jotaro as I lean on his bedroom’s door frame. “You’re at it again?” he asks with a bored look from his bed. “Yeah...Sorry about that. I’ve already cleaned the whole house spotless and did my homework for all subject...And even studied in advance. I’m getting restless.” I sighed, looking down at the floor. “Maybe you should find a better coping mechanism. You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly?” he asks once again, raising his cap to take a better look at me. “...There’s no point in lying to you, you’d find out anyway. No, I haven’t really been able to sleep. I’m always on the edge, and I feel like if I don’t keep my mind busy all the time, I’m going to go insane.” I explain, scratching my arm lightly. “Have you spoken to Mum about this?” he suggests, but I merely nodded. “Yeah...She took me to the therapist, but honestly, she pisses me off more than she helps, you get me? Or maybe I’m just not meant to go with this type of healing. Well...Holly said she’ll take me out to the cinema and shopping this weekend, so I’ll take my mind off things, so I think I should be good, at least for this week.” I speak as I instinctively tidy up his study desk. “Yare Yare Daze...Have you tried using your Stand? Find out how you can perfect some moves or combos?” he suggested, which made me stop in my tracks and shift my gaze to his turquoise eyes. “You know...That’s not such a bad idea. Maybe it would be a good way to meditate and clear my mind. I’ve been so frantic these past weeks that I haven’t even thought to see my dear Kitsune. Thanks for the idea, Jotaro. I think I know what I’ll do. But...If you have anything to do and you’re not up to it, tell me anyway. Just in case.” I shrug, getting out of Jotaro’s room and going outside, taking out my Stand and trying to meditate a bit, under the tree shade.

The next day, at school, for some reason, I’m called by a random student to Jotaro’s class, only to find out that a new kid transferred to our Highschool last month. Well, no wonder I had no idea about this...I’m in 3rd year, while Jotaro and this guy are in their 1st year.  But even so, I wonder what’s it got to do with me? I got in the class as soon as the bell rang, and only the new kid and my old Biology teacher were there.

“Ah, Kat, it’s so good to see you! You look as beautiful as ever...But it’s no wonder you look so exhausted...What happened must have hit you quite hard. Is Mrs. Kujo  taking good care of you?” Miss Yui asks, petting my long, red hair. “Well...Yeah. She is a great mother. I was quite lucky, to be fair...Under different circumstances, who knows how much worse it could have been. But...Anyway, why have you called for me?” I scratch the side of my neck nervously. “Well, dear, this is Kakyoin Noriaki, Jotaro’s new classmate. He moved here from another city, and he has been doing great for all subjects, except Biology. Now, you were my best student, and I remembered about your ambitions to become a Vet, so I thought that maybe you’d like to tutor him. It might also be a great opportunity for you to be more sociable and take your mind off of the bad things that have happened.” Miss Yui’s dark eyes sparkled with kindness as she spoke, but I could only gasp in shock at what I was hearing. “Wh-Wh-What?! M-Me, a tutor? I-I-I think you’d chosen the worst possible person. I’m not patient and I don’t know how to explain stuff for others to understand...And I’m really bad at making friends or...Talking. Are you sure I’m not just going to make it worse for him? Th-There’s always Aiko, and she’s an extrovert...And she went to the Olympics!” I suggested as my cheeks became rosy from embarrassment, but she only smirked at me with a knowing look. “Oh, please, Aiko has nothing on you. You’re much smarter than her, and honestly, she would scare Kakyoin-kun here with her volcanic personality. You, however...Let’s just say I’ve never met a calmer person before.” the teacher praised me, which made me look away and bite my lip, feeling my heart about to burst from emotions. “I really don’t want to bother you, Miss, but I would appreciate all the help I can get. I promise not to give you trouble.” Kakyoin soothing voice called out all of a sudden, and I had to cover my face in embarrassment. “O-Okay...Okay...I don’t mind...Just...I hope you won’t be disappointed. I’m VERY bad with people.” I sighed, side-glancing him. “I truly appreciate you going out of your way to help me out, Senpai.” he smiled softly, bowing at me. “No no no no, don’t do that, it’s fine, it’s no big deal. And, uh...You can call me Katrina or Kat. I’m not exactly Japanese, so it’s really weird when people don’t call me by my first name.” I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, but he didn’t seem to have any problem with what I was saying. “See? You’re already getting along! Their next exam is going to be in a month, from the Nervous System, just so you know what to teach him. Good luck!” she waved at us cheerfully, as we nodded at her and left the classroom. “So, uhh...When and where?” I ask, already trying to make a plan for how to go with this. “Tomorrow I finish pretty early, so maybe...Tomorrow, 2pm, in the park?” he proposes simply, while I thought about the things I had to do. “Well...Tomorrow I finish at 3, so if you don’t mind waiting a bit by yourself...Then sure, I have nothing else to do.” I smile gently at him. “I don’t mind waiting. I actually quite enjoy my alone time, to be fair. I’m not a people person either.” he smiled back. “Well, then that’s perfect! I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care.” I give him a military salute before taking off.

Hmm...Kakyoin Noriaki...Not bad...Maybe this will actually be fun and I’ll manage to forget everything that happened.

As soon as I get home, I take out all the notes I have from Year 1 and start making a battle plan on how to tackle every lesson properly, how will every scheme and drawing help and so on. Gods, I sure hope I won’t stutter, I’m so nervous... The only people I’m actually comfortable around are Jotaro and Holly, and now, I have to do this... But maybe it’s for my own good, right? What could go wrong?

The next day, instead of paying attention in class, I doodled random things in my notebooks, as a way to cope with how incredibly nervous I was and afraid of screwing up and embarrassing myself, but thankfully enough, hours passed by faster than imagined, and I found myself already walking towards the designated place, where I found Kakyoin sitting down at the base of the tree, looking peaceful, and seemingly drawing in a notebook. He looked very...Pretty... He inspires me such a relaxing vibe, that I almost feel at ease just being around him. His voice is so calm and gentle... He really is cute.

“Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting.” I speak out softly, sitting down next to him. “Don’t worry about that. I enjoyed myself. The weather is very nice today, don’t you think?” he continues the small talk. “Yeah...It really is. I mean...The Sakura season is supposed to begin soon, I think?” I mention, looking up at the fluffy cloud. “I think it’s in 2 weeks. I heard there’s a pretty big festival, right?” he smiles simply. “Hmm...I think so? I remember Holly making Jotaro take me to see the Sakura bloom, but other than that, I don’t know. I mean, it was really beautiful, but with someone like Jotaro...I guess you can’t stay much and admire stuff, you get me?” I chuckled, remembering how much the boy would scowl at all the girls trying to cling on him. “I see you’re close to Jotaro. I didn’t really see him as the type to make friends easily, especially with girls.” he noted, making me giggle in amusement. “It was...Kind of a forced situation, in a way. The whole deal is pretty complicated, but we had to stay a lot together due to family circumstances, and now we’re like siblings, so to speak. I really want to say that he’s like my little brother...But considering how I look like a Pomeranian when I’m next to him, I guess everyone would say I’m the little sister.” I bite my lip, trying not too laugh to hard, but it greatly amused Noriaki. “I would actually kind of want to see that, I bet it would be pretty funny. Then, how about we go to the festival together, all 3 of us? It would be nice to experience all the new things around.” Kakyoin looked at me with a soft expression.  “Sounds good to me! Maybe this time I will actually get to SEE the festival too.” I chuckled, getting out my study materials from my bag. “So, here we go. I was thinking we could go with a bit of a different order to learning, seeing that the way things were taught is a bit broken and irresponsible. So, instead of first learning about the brain itself, I think actually learning about cells, the Neurons, more specifically, then go up the chain list with tissues, organs, organ systems, and their functions. Sounds good?” I suggest, already opening the notebooks at said lesson. “I have no objections. I’m in your hands, Katrina.” he leaned in closer.

Wow...My name, spoken by him, sure sounds good...

I begin explaining the first lesson, with every little detail possible and correlations that would help him understand things easier, and I didn’t realise how time flew so fast.

“Is this how you remember things? By doodling cute little things around the pages of your notebooks?” he smiled tenderly, making me gasp. “A-A-A-Ah...! Ignore them, please! I just like cute things and they kinda make me smile when I see them! S-Sorry, I know they’re silly!” I looked away, blushing faintly. “No, no, I think they’re really nice. I like doodling in my notebooks too. Makes me feel more at ease while studying. Say, would it be okay to ask you to lend me your study materials for a while so I can copy them?” he leaned back on the tree. “O-Oh, yeah, of course! Sorry, I completely forgot about that! Yeah, sure. Uh...They’re a bit heavy, sorry about that, will you be okay?” I bite my lip, taking out all the notebooks and portfolio filled with drawings. “Yes, nothing I can’t handle. Thank you so much for going out of your way to help me.” he helped me get get up as we walked towards the school. “So, when is the next time we can meet up? It’s uh...Kinda the longest and most difficult chapter, and it took me about half a year to understand it 100%...And we have a month now.” I explain, concerned. “Then, as often as possible, correct? I think tomorrow after class we can do this again, what do you think?” he took the bag from my shoulder, carrying it. “Here, let me carry it. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your trouble.” he smiled charmingly. “I’m not sure if you’re an angel, or if I just met a lot of mega-jerks, but I guess I’m glad I got to meet someone as nice as you. Yeah, tomorrow is perfect.” I grin at him.

He walked me to my home, and the whole day after this I could only think of how cute and kind he is.

Boy, I have it bad.

So bad that the whole weekend, Holly kept trying to make me speak, and when I finally managed to say something, she was fangirling so much...So much, even at home, that even Jotaro realised I have a crush on his classmate...

How V E R Y tragic...

Well, at least I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be better than last time.

And so, 2 weeks of meeting almost every day passed by, and in the weekend, we were supposed to go to the Sakura festival.  Of course, Jotaro wouldn’t be caught dead to that place, so it’d be only the 2 of us. Fuuun~!

Of course, Holly wanted to buy me a cute, pink Kimono and made sure that I look extra pretty for the day, but damn, I was a nervous mess. Jotaro was nice enough to walk me to the festival and wait with me until Kakyoin arrived, which was at 6 sharp, and made sure that he’ll walk me home, which was very nice of him, to say the least.

“See? I really look like a Pomeranian next to him, and now you had the opportunity to see it for yourself.” I chuckled as we started walking through the festival, carefully looking at each booth and what it has to offer. “It was quite the sight. I didn’t realise you lived with Jotaro. He must be a nice big brother, despite how cold he seems with everyone.” he chuckled, looking a bit absent minded. “Oh, yeah, he is. Well, if you’re curious, I can tell you why I live with him, but it’s quite a complicated story.” I shrugged slightly, walking up to him. “If you want to tell me, I would gladly listen. It does seem like an interesting story.” he spoke, before turning to me. “You know...Pink looks very good on you.” his tender smile seemed to light up the night like the Moon, as he put a very pretty pink flower hair ornament that made my side fringe stay out of my hair. “There, now I can see your beautiful eyes better.” he spoke, but my cheeks for so red that I had to hide my face with my hands from how embarrassed I felt. “C-Come on, don’t say that, it’s nothing of the sort...” I tried to say, but to no avail. “What are you saying? Well, I guess you can’t see how amazing you are, but I assure you, being in this position, able to see you, is the best. Oh, I heard there will be fireworks soon. Why don’t we go up the hill? I bet the view will be great.” he spoke nonchalantly as he put his arm around my shoulder. “S-Sure, sounds great...It’s really pretty, this place. And being able to enjoy it with someone else...It’s really nice. I haven’t been this happy in a while.” I bit my lip, looking away, smiling. “Then, I’m glad I have the honour of being the one by your side.” he chuckled lightly, as we leaned on the big Sakura tree up the hill. “Say...Kakyoin...Don’t you think something weird’s going on?” I ask in a soft voice. “Hmmm...? What do you mean?” he asks, looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. “The wind is blowing softly...And yet...There’s no Sakura petal. And...There’s nobody here. I mean...Don’t you think other people would like to see the fireworks from up here? Or...Put those love charms on the tree branches?” I walk forward towards the middle of the hill to look around properly. “Just relax, you’re thinking too much into it. Look, down there, everyone has smiles on their faces, so there’s nothing weird that could’ve happened, right?” but just as he said that, a pair of hands shot up from the tree, strangling Kakyoin. “Wh-What the hell...?!” I gasped, looking around. “It can’t be...Where is he...?!” I muttered under my breath, as a monster-like humanoid figure got out of the tree and slammed Kakyoin on it. “K-Katrina...Run...!” he tried to warn, but I merely shook my head. “Hang in there, Kakyoin, I’ll save you!” I tried to reassure him, but a dark voice from behind me called out my name. “Awww, look at her, how she grew up! You look even better than you did some years ago. Now you’re actually worth looking at! And to think that you’re all mine...Why, Kitten, what’s with that face? Aren’t you happy to see me after all this time?” the voice that I hated with every fiber of my being spoke, and I could only clench my fists in anger. “Let him go. He has nothing to do with this. If you want me, attack me, but don’t be so cowardly as to take hostages. Honestly...You’ve never been a man, and you’ll never be. Jotaro’s barely 17 and he is much more a man that you will ever even dream of being. You’re just a whiny and bratty little boy who always gets mad when he doesn’t get what he wants. Pathetic.” I turn around to face the man in front of me...My ex. “Stop looking at me like that, you’re ugly. Just be an obedient little girl and smile for me, that’s all that you’re good at. But you’ve been whoring around with other men while I was away...What a naughty girl, you deserve to be punished...” his smirk was so wide, it almost seemed like his face will split in two. “Jeez...Disgusting as ever...” I tsked, before taking out letting my Stand, The Trickster, attack him. “How do you want to die? By attacking your Stand, or attacking you directly? I will let you choose.” I rolled up my long sleeves so I would have better access to my hands. “Pshh, as if some weak bitch like you can ever defeat me. Remember how you used to squirm underneath me? You’ll look just as pitiful now!” he started laughing hysterically, but I could only smirk. “Man...You see...My Big Bro made sure to teach me how to take care of myself. Guess I’ll have to show you not to mess with me anymore....Kitsune, come!”  I said in a stern voice, as I and Kitsune’s hand touched, as we fused together. 

I made a huge circle of fire surround us, and from my hands, two huge snakes of fire came out, lunging themselves at the jerk.

“H-Hey...What the hell...Since when are you a Stand user too?!” he shouted at me with rage and shock. “Since before you knew how to speak, fuckass. Now go away and burn in hell like you deserve!” I let out an amused breath, before chasing him away. “Urgh...Lame as usual...” I rolled my eyes, before rushing to Kakyoin’s side. “Kakyoin, are you alright? U-Uh...I...I’m not sure what happe-” I tried to think of an excuse, but I was cut off. “You’re a Stand user too?!” Kakyoin’s eyes widened in shock, as so did mine. “Y-Yes...! Can you see Kitsune too?!” I leaned back a bit, shocked to hear that. “Clear as the day. What a pleasant surprise...Ah! Watch out!” Kakyoin put his arms around me, shielding me from something. “Hierophant Green: Emerald Splash!” he called out his Stand firmly, as I heard another scream. “Weakling never give up, do they?” he said in a softer voice. “I heard idiots never give up. I guess both are right, hm?” I gave him a side-smile, as he let go of me slowly. “Think he’ll come back again?” he asked, taking a deep breath. “Hopefully not. I’ve seen enough of him for a lifetime. Ah...Come on, I can’t believe it...You have hand marks on your neck...Damn, I’m sorry. Come here, let me heal you.” I spoke gently as I loosened the kimono from his neck area and put his own hands around his neck gingerly, closing my eyes and concentrating my powers towards my palms. “Is this your power?” he asks in a bewildered voice. “Yeah...I can heal people...My stand is called The Trickster. Her name is Kitsune, because she’s a fox and...And people used to nickname me that a long time ago. Mainly Joseph and Suzie, I suppose...Well. She can mostly create illusions and trick people a lot...But this is her actual, primary power. I supposed that’s why I wanna become a Vet, I don’t know....But...I’m sorry you had to be caught up into my problems like that...You deserve better than this. There, you’re all good. I will go home now. I’m sorry, again.” I sighed, about to get up, but he caught my wrists before I could. “Don’t say that. I’m glad I got to spend more time with you...And learn more about you. You’re a beautiful woman, Katrina, inside and out. You’re very kind and lovely...And I think your stand really suits you. I’m glad that I met you, Katrina.” he smiled softly, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on my lips, which made my cheeks flare up. “A-Are you sure about that? You may regret your decision...And the last thing I want is you hating me.” I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about a decision. Will you be my girlfriend, Katrina?” he asked me sweetly, fixing the hair ornament from my fringe. “Man...I really scored the blackjack today, didn’t I?” I chuckled softly, looking at the ground, before shifting my gaze back at him. “How could I say no? You’re an angel, I told you before, didn’t I?” I joked before kissing him back. “Also...There actually aren’t fireworks today, they’re supposed to be on Sunday, but...” calling out my Stand once again, I make a Firework show up on the dark sky. “That can be easily solved.” I smirk slyly, leaning on his side. “You’re a work of art...” he muttered, as he put his arm around me, kissing the top of my head.

---

“Okay, so? How’d it go? You got your exam results today, right?” I ask Noriaki incredibly anxious, as we took out our bento, laying at the base of a tree in the highschool park. “Well...I guess it was decent.” he spoke mysteriously, reaching into his bag. “What does that mean? Come on, tell me, don’t leave me like that!” I whine, making him laugh. “Honestly, you’re more invested in this than I am, it’s amusing. Here, I hope you’re proud of me.” he took out a paper and let me take it. “Whoa! That’s amazing, yo got a 95%! You’re the best, I’m so proud of you!” I squealed in glee, throwing my hands around him, kissing his cheek. “It’s all thanks to you that I was able to get this mark, so thank you. Which reminds me...I wanted to give this to you, as a thank you gift. I hope you like it.” he smiled shyly at me, before he took something else from his bag...It looked like a dark green frame. “I began sketching it the day we first met up at the park...But as I got to know you better, I kept adding things, or changing them. Your face became much kinder, instead of the anxious one from the first time I saw you. You are dressed in the beautiful pink Kimono from the festival, instead of the school uniform, and you have the hair accessory I got you. You hold a fox in your embrace, as your stand is, and on the sky, the fireworks that you created are shown. You’re my muse, Kat. I love you, and thank you for putting up with me.” he put his hand on the back of my head, pulling me closer to him as he kissed me lovingly. “Man...You’re an amazing artist. Thank you, I love it...And I love you. I’ll hang it in my room, so I can see it every time I wake up. You’re the best, Nori.” I smiled at him with a soft giggle, before an angry noise was heard. “Could you keep that in private? Yare Yare Daze...You’re annoying...” Jotaro’s annoyed voice called out from above us. “Aww, how cute, Jotaro! But, you see, instead of complaining about us, I think you should run away before those girls catch up to you and go all over you. It’s not like Star Platinum can help you in that situation.” I winked at him, as he shot me a dirty look, going away. “Isn’t he adorable? What a cute little brother I have.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Ah, that reminds me...Today that video game you talked about is getting promoted in our nearest game shop. Wanna come get it? It’s no big deal if we skip class and play video games all day, right?” I shrug nonchalantly, feeling over the moon with happiness. “I like how you’re thinking! Let’s go!” he took my hand and we sneaked out of that place, to the game shop, and thankfully enough, we managed to get the game just before they all ran out, so we hurried to his place to try it out, and thankfully, it was worth the wait and money since it was super fun and entertaining. That evening, as he walked me home, I remembered that I promised to tell him the story of how I got to live with Jotaro, and I started chuckling.

“Oh that reminds me...Remember when I said I’ll tell you why I live with Jotaro? I guess I kinda forgot to tell you about that. Basically, my family and his family have always been closed. I’m half-British, half-Italian, and my grandma is the sister of Jotaro’s grandpa’s best friend. Caesar Zeppeli...He died when Joseph Joestar was 19, while trying to save the world from some monsters, but Joseph, since then, has been very close with grandma...And in turn, I’ve been very close with my grandma too, and she’d tell me all kinds of stories, and she would take me see Joseph and Suzie very often in New York. It was always super fun. When I was in my first year of Highschool, I managed to score a scholarship and finish the whole year at this Higschool right here, and my grandma made me promise to speak to Holly, Jotaro’s mum. We kinda became very close, since she’s very sweet and all...But well, around the time we met, my own mother died, and my grandma asked Joseph to let me stay at his daughter...So, she’s been very sweet to take care of me ever since. And Jotaro has been trying to help me cope with the loss of my mother. He’s a nice guy, once you get past that snowman attitude. Besides...His Stand looks scarier than him!” I laughed merrily, having him join with a chuckle, and a kiss on my temple. “Poor dear, you have been through so much already, and yet, your smile shines brighter than the Sun. You’re a true work of art, Kat. Thank you for trusting me with your story. Honestly...I’ve always been such an introvert that even my mum would get annoyed with me. I’m really glad I met you. And I hope Jotaro won’t use his Stand on me...Ever.” he showed a side smile as we got in front of the house. “Thank you for walking me home, Nori. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” I kissed him softly, before going into the house, only to be greeted by Holly, whose hands were on her hips, and her foot was tapping on the ground frantically. “Well?!” Holly asks with a frustrated look. “Well...? JACKPOT!” I said in a loud voice, high fiving her. “YES! That’s what I’m talking about! You go, girl, you got him!” she grinned at me giddily, as we went to the kitchen to gossip and do some sweets. “Yare Yare Daze...The two of you together are horrible...” Jotaro’s annoyed voice called out, leaving the place.

[cd-stories]

A Year with Aunt Rose

I was about to graduate from grade school, 14 years old and ready to conquer the world. Mom and Dad said I had an attitude problem. I saw it as more of an expression of independence. Well, they were going to Europe for a year because of Dad’s job and I was to stay with Aunt Rose. She was my father’s sister and had bankrolled his import business. He pretty much did things her way or not at all even though he was president of the company. I rather saw that as whimping out on his part but he was my dad and I had to respect that and all the money he made anyway.

As soon as I was free the 5th of June, Mom and Dad were off to New York and London and who knows where else. Well, that was fine with me. I could use a break from parental supervision. I was a dyed in the wool slob and enjoyed it immensely. You know, sneakers, hole in the knee jeans, tee shirt, long, dirty hair, the hoop earring in the left ear, the usual. Aunt Rose was pretty bossy though and I admit that I was a little afraid of her too. She was sufficiently larger than I was so she could probably put a hurt on me. She seemed kind enough when I was dropped off at her place though. I think that may have just been to fake me out though.

The first clue that I got that things were going to be different for me with Aunt Rose was that she was a neat freak. Everything had to be just so. Everything in it’s place and a place for everything. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t follow that rule very well. I mean, after all, just look at me. It seems I just couldn’t leave anything alone or put it back where it came from and that bugged Aunt Rose something awful. She said, “I’m afraid we are going to have to teach you how to be a little neater about things Keenan.” “Whatever! Give it your best shot Aunt Rose.” Not that I was flippant or anything!

July 4th: She said since I was so messy that I would have to learn to clean up around the house and gain an appreciation for what ‘clean’ and ‘orderly’ meant. OK. I cleaned. I didn’t like it but I did it. I learned with corrections at every turn how to dust and run the vacuum and wash windows without streaking them. The worst part was the bathrooms. I hated getting down and cleaning the bowls but Aunt Rose was one of those ‘spotless’ people and there was only one right way to do things, HER way. I admit there was a certain degree of pride to be taken in a job well done. The reason I noticed was that I guess I never really did anything really well before, especially school, but I learned how to clean house really well. The only problem with that was that she made me wear a frilly pinafore apron while I was doing all my housework and any time I had my hands in water, she made me wear rubber gloves “so you won’t ruin your pretty nails” she said. What did I care about my nails anyway? Besides, they weren’t very pretty, at least not at first.

And she was somewhat of a health nut too. She had some herbal concoction that she made me take every day along with some others she got at the store. She said it would help me adjust and boost my immune system. What did I have to adjust to besides her infernal neatness? You wouldn’t believe the ingredients. She ground them all up and put them in big capsules and I had to take 8 a day. They had, let me see, anise, black cohosh, castleberry, fenugreek and licorice root and eye of newt and lizard tongues for all I knew. Can you believe it? She said the fenugreek would help keep me regular, which I must admit, it did. The rest of them? Who knows? All I noticed was that my skin seemed to be a little smoother and clearer and after a few weeks I did feel a bit mellower about dressing decent and staying clean. She made me begin putting some kind of stuff on my face before I went to bed at night. It was creamy and smelled nice and sank into my skin and lo and behold, soon my teen aged acne was gone. My complexion took on a new, soft, glowing appearance. It was kind of nice not having a pimply face for a change. That part I enjoyed.

It was pretty wild at the dinner table too. She corrected me at every turn. I thought Mom and Dad were something, but Aunt Rose told me how to bite and chew and how to sit and how to place and use my napkin and everything. Talk about nit picking!! Of course, I also learned how to set a proper table in the process, clear it and load the dishwasher. That was when I learned how to stoop from my knees rather than from my waist when I spilled something on the kitchen floor. It WAS so much more convenient for loading the washer too. I was really grateful for her teaching me that little trick because I had hurt my back riding my bike and sometimes it bothered me. You can’t bend over from the waist for very long without your back hurting at least not MY back. The only problem with bending down like that was I had to pick things up sideways but being so close to whatever it was, it was rather easier and she was right, it was easier on my back. I thought I was supposed to be on vacation and here I was employed for no wages as apprentice housekeeper and laundress. Well, I felt like a laundress with that apron on, especially over my shorts. Made me look like I was wearing a damn skirt and yes, I did laundry too, learning what went with what and about temperatures and delicates and all! I had never handled women’s underwear before. It was very nice and silky. I had no idea how nice it was until then. No wonder girls like it so much. It IS very nice to the touch. I tried to touch it a few times when I had a date but only got slapped for my efforts.

Well, she kept me at the cleaning until I actually got pretty good at it and it took me hardly any time at all compared to when I started. But gee, was I going to spend my whole summer in the house? I’d even gotten used to the apron. It wasn’t so bad I guess and it did accomplish the impossible. It kept me clean. Not that she insisted that I stay inside all the time. She offered on numerous occasions to take me shopping with her but if her shopping was anything like my Mom’s, I’d never survive it. I mean, in a shop, try on this and that and out again over and over. Boy, women sure do like to shop and buy clothes and shoes and jewelry and all that stuff. My idea of shopping is see it, go in and buy it and get the heck out of there.

August 2nd: Aunt Rose has been on me about my hair. She said to either have it cut or keep it clean and style it. Well, I like my hair and I like it long and wasn’t about to have it cut so I agreed to keep it clean, grudgingly. I should have known when she said ‘clean,’ she meant shiny, sparkly, squeaky clean. What she meant by ‘style it,’ I didn’t know. Aunt Rose had long hair herself and offered to show me how to take proper care of it so what the heck, it was her time and shampoo. She taught me all about taking care for long hair and how to shampoo and condition it and made me give it a hot oil soak once a week. I’ll have to admit it really looked great, nice and shiny and had a lot of body too, a lot too much for a boy, I think. I could have done an ad for one of those women’s hair shampoos as pretty as my hair had gotten. I could swing it around like they do in those shampoo ads too, downright fluffy it was.

It made me feel a little sexy sometimes as it swung across my shoulders if I wore a tank top. Every night I’d have to sit there and brush it to bring out the oils, she said. Long hair takes time, she said. Do it right or not at all was her motto. No wonder I never wanted to keep it nice before but then, I had all summer, only school would be starting soon and I knew she wasn’t going to let up on the hair or anything else. She seemed absolutely relentless about my grooming and deportment. I suppose it wasn’t too bad but I was beginning to have some doubts about myself lately. I felt, I don’t know, different somehow but just couldn’t put my finger on it. I think I was acting differently too, I don’t quite understand it!

She seemed pleased with my efforts and gave me some nice ties to keep my hair back and so I began having a pretty ribbon with a bow in it around my pony tails and sometimes I wore them up instead of down. I know that’s how girls wear them but I liked the way it bounced and swung around that way and I knew that European men wore ribbons in their hair. It was so clean and shiny and bouncy. I don’t know. I just liked it up sometimes. Aunt Rose said it looked real cute up in a pony tail. One night she had me come into her room and sat me down at her vanity table and proceeded to play with it. She brushed it forward and back combed it and parted it in the middle. Then she brought some forward and cut it straight across my brow and let the rest fall to the sides. “Doesn’t that look nice, Keenan?” “Well, yes Aunt Rose, it looks great but wow, bangs and everything and parted in the middle. I almost look like a girl with this nice top on.” “Oh, you just look very well groomed. Don’t be silly, she said.” ‘Ok, so I DON’T look like a girl. Whatever!’ I sure looked ‘different’ somehow. It was hard to put my finger on it or for that matter, how I felt about it.

As far as I was concerned, I was beginning to look darned feminine to go along with all my girlish chores. I didn’t mind helping Aunt Rose out but these feelings I was having were most peculiar. I believe I was becoming accustomed to the gentler side of life and continued handling of Aunt Rose’s lingerie was having a peculiar effect on me, like, I actually caught myself wondering what it felt like to wear something so soft and silky. I noticed I wasn’t complaining about stuff any more like I did when I first came there. I just sort of accepted things now as they were.

It was about this time that I seemed to be having a reaction to the herbs. I felt a little light headed and my chest was sore. I hadn’t taken much notice of it before but it had been going on for a while so subtly that I hadn’t taken any notice except for the itching. Aunt Rose suggested maybe I should quit the herbs and get my vitamins from the pharmacy. She was giving me other stuff too like vitamin C and Algae, Calmag and some other things. She said that whatever she did, she was not having my parents coming back and finding me sick. I really didn’t like taking that stuff with the weird names that she concocted, and so was just as happy when she came home with something else from the drug store and began giving me vitamin shots once a week and I had to only take some of the previous pills and two little brown pills a day from then on. What a relief, and they didn’t taste bad at all. They were coated with some stuff. I think something in that mix made me a little sick too for a few days. Every morning I wanted to heave but after about five days, it went away and I felt fine and my hair and skin never looked better. I was amazed to find myself liking to take care of my hair now. Gee, I never thought I’d like having pretty hair.

Aunt Rose was not one for sloppy dress either. I had come to her in torn blue jeans and a tee shirt. That situation rapidly evolved and she had me wearing dressier clothes around the house like she did and certainly whenever we went out. By the end of July, she had me in nice slacks in various colors and fabrics some of which felt very nice next to my softer skin, some I’m afraid with no zipper or one in the back and even one pair with the zipper on the side, tailored shirts in soft, silky fabrics and really neat, amazingly lightweight loafers with a low cut top down near my toes and low wedge or built up heels. I really think they looked a little girlish but they felt really good and made my feet look smaller, not that they were really big or anything. I really think I was walking a little differently, especially in the slightly built up heels but I found I really liked the higher ones better for some reason. They seemed to feel ‘natural’ and I rather enjoyed the way they fit and felt on my feet although the thought did cross my mind that these shoes made my feet look ‘pretty’. Everything was rather form fitting though and accentuated my small waist and my hips. I didn’t even know I HAD hips. You know what I mean. We all have them but mine were getting sort of roundish and filled my slacks rather well and it wasn’t just that. I was putting on fat all over except my waist. My pelvis seemed like it was actually growing wider, the bones even felt very different. I realized I was going through puberty and all but had no idea a boy’s hips got wider then. Well, you know what I mean. I came to appreciate my pretty aprons as I didn’t want to get my nicer clothes dirty. I guess better shirts button differently too but I learned to love how they looked and felt so silky next to my skin and seemed to flow with my movements, graceful, you know? I got so I didn’t like wearing undershirts with them even though the silky fabric made my nipples stand out.

My bummy old blue jeans became history. She threw them out. Aunt Rose would help me with the housework but I did the washing too. Since I did the washing, I had apparently gotten an appreciation for keeping myself clean too. She taught me how to separate things and how to treat various fabrics, how to fold and what to fold and what to iron. Oh yes, she taught me how to iron too. I found that once I understood how to flatten things and maneuver sleeves and what temperatures to use, it wasn’t so bad but that was a painful experience nonetheless.

I scorched one of her blouses and she punished me. She put these two little hoops on my ears to remind me to be more careful in the future and they hurt like blazes until the next morning. Then, I couldn’t get them out. I couldn’t figure out how to do it and Aunt Rose refused to help and just complimented me on how nice I looked in my navy blue slacks, sky blue short sleeved top with a low vee neck and navy blue stripy wedge heeled sandals and the matching blue scrunchy in my hair. They were leather shoes, and with all kinds of padding in them. They were very comfortable to work in though and they made my feet look really tiny and cute. They were nice enough sandals. I’ll bet a girl would never have worn them without painting her toenails though and I had a flash of what mine might look like painted. Gee, what made me entertain painting my toenails? Well, let’s face it, they WERE tiny but the size inside said seven.

I didn’t think I took that large a shoe. At 13, I was only 5'4" tall and could have sworn my size was smaller. Aunt Rose was a good three inches taller and her feet were just a little bigger, I think. She got me a new pair of loafers too. They weren’t so well padded but they were comfortable even though they did have a built up heel on them. It must have been about 2 or 2 ½ inches but it was a blocky heel and I had no problem walking in them. They were almost as heavy as my hiking boots and the heel height was just about the same as cowboy boots. She told me I should have them because it was good for my calf muscles to vary my heel height during the day since I was on my feet so much. That made perfect sense to me although I could have sworn I had seen the same shoe on a few girls around town. Then it occurred to me that girl’s legs always looked nicer in high heels. I wondered if mine did too but then, nobody could see them with pants on and two inches wasn’t that high anyway. Cowboy boots were every bit that high. I wondered what my legs looked like from someone else’s point of view. Now, why in the world did I even care about that? I never had before!

Aunt Rose was rather attractive and she did have a way with clothes and cosmetics. She knew how to look her best. Apparently, she wanted me to look my best too. Well, that was OK I guess, as long as she was paying for the clothes. I was almost beginning to LIKE looking nice. It did give me a little sense of pride to know I looked nice. It was a far cry from jeans and tee shirts and I began to take a certain pride in my neat and orderly appearance and I must have spent at least a half hour on my hair every day. She said I was really lucky that is wasn’t dead straight like most boys. It fell in soft waves down to my shoulders and turned under a little bit. It seemed to be getting very full and thick lately but maybe that was just because of the conditioners.

September 1st: I start back to school next week. Aunt Rose has gotten me a whole new wardrobe both for school and home. The school clothes are very nice but they make me look a little odd, I think. Some of the older boys looked at me strangely for a awhile but after a couple weeks they got over it. Maybe it was that they had never seen a boy with manners before who knew how to dress and look nice for school. She certainly had drilled all of that into me about how to conduct myself and how to dress and move and everything. Most of them certainly didn’t bother with themselves. A couple of them asked me if I had gone to a Catholic grade school because of my dressing and hair style. I just told them my aunt was very fashion conscious and strict. She certainly had taught me how to be a gentleman and I do mean with the accent on ‘gentle.’ My movements seemed different to me, somehow smoother, less abrupt and jerky, more fluid I guess you’d say like a dancer maybe. Perhaps even a little feminine but somehow, even thought that should have bothered me, it didn’t. This was a new school for me and the kids didn’t know the old, sloppy me. Those two inch heels made me walk a little differently too as I noticed that I had to sway my hips a little more although they were hard to notice as my slacks were just the right length. I liked the way my friend Janice walked in hers and I think I copied her walk.

Mostly my school clothing consisted of nice slacks in various patterns, fabrics and colors, a silk shirt in various colors and maybe a gold chain or two and a pair of loafers over thin, knee high hose. She never let me wear sneakers anymore. Maybe it was the earrings and long hair that put them off at first along with the gold bracelet and the smallish wrist watch. Well, they were earrings and even though they were a punishment, I had come to like them. Now I had two in the left ear and one in the right. I liked to see that little glint of light on them when I tossed my head or looked in the mirror. They had little diamonds that slid around on them as they moved. Aunt Rose had gotten me a few other styles and showed me how to put them in and take them out, even some pretty dangle ones. She told me the ones she put on me were self piercing and that’s why they hurt so much. And the wrist watch, well, a full sized men’s would look ridiculous on my tiny wrist anyway. I wasn’t any bigger than most of the girls in my class.

I had some really pretty studs now that I wore to school and several pairs of dangles that I wore at home. I don’t know why I let her talk me into those but they were very pretty and I loved the feel of them as they brushed my neck as they swung and I had seen dangles on some men on TV but I was a little afraid to wear them to school. It was really odd how my feelings about my appearance had changed since Aunt Rose had shown me the difference between slob and well groomed. Sometimes I’d even put my hair up so I could see them better although Aunt Rose preferred it down, cascading about my shoulders. I’m glad she cut in those bangs. I wouldn’t be able to see otherwise I think. One time, she saw me with my hair up in a pony tail and asked if I would like to try something else, a different way of putting it up. “Sure, why not?” I said. So she proceeded to teach me how to do a braid from my crown back. She told me I could tie it off with a scrunchy or a ribbon but to be honest the ribbon looked nicer. I remember that’s how the men used to do it in colonial days. So I started tying it up in all colors of ribbons to match what I was wearing on top. I had to admit, I did have pretty hair now. It was odd to think how I had come to think of my hair and feet as pretty. I did love the way that braid looked on me and had gotten used to wearing the dressier shoes.

A lot of the ‘at home’ clothes consisted of handsome tops that had a sort of self attached neck tie that was tied in a bow or that I could tie like a regular necktie. Auntie said they were the kind of top that 19th century poets used to wear. I’d wear slacks and a couple of them were designed so full that they actually looked like skirts I’m afraid. I think she called them Palatzo Pants or something. And unless I wore a somewhat higher built up heel, they dragged on the carpet. They sure had a lot of material in them and flowed all over the place when I walked. My newest sandals had a higher wedge heel with a single wide strap across my toes. I guess they must have been at least 3" high. They were cute. I felt a little guilty when I thought about painting my toes. I guess that was what wearing a long skirt felt like although I’d never had a skirt on in my life. Then that thought about what my legs would look like in a skirt crossed my mind. What is the matter with me? First I’m thinking lingerie and now a skirt and I’m enjoying 3" heels?

She got me some new night wear too, mostly nightshirt types, very silky and they came just below my knees except one that came all the way to my ankles and had long sleeves. It seemed to be a heavy satin. I thought that would come in handy in the winter. The fit was grand and loose and they hung somewhat from my chest as well as my shoulders. How strange. I thought my chest was flat but it seemed I was poking out some there along with my wider pelvis that seemed to force me to walk differently than I used to. No matter. At least they didn’t have pockets for breasts in them so I knew they couldn’t be girl’s nighties. Oh, they did have some pretty lace on them but Auntie pointed out that 19th century men wore a great deal of lace, a fact I knew to be true as I’d seen many pictures of them. They were very nice and I thanked her profusely because they felt so neat. She got me a nice quilted robe too.

October 1: Aunt Rose has been at me every day about how I sit and stand and walk and talk. It feels like she’s training me to become King or something, you know, Regal? I’m sure she only wants the best for me but she is at me about every nuance of my disposition lately. She wants me to sit down and rise slowly, gracefully, and not just plop into a chair and she wants me to stand with my feet together and cross my legs slowly at the knee when I sit or at worst, my ankles and to keep my knees together when I sit and arise. She won’t let me sit with my one ankle resting on my knee any more. Whatever could that matter when I was wearing pants? I could understand that if I wore skirts but I don’t.

She even made me carry a book around on my head for a whole week at home until my walk smoothed out with my high heels on. She said I was too ‘bouncy’, whatever that means. Said I’d never be able to be a waiter and carry a tray if I didn’t smooth out my walk. I really didn’t fancy becoming a waiter but I smoothed out the walk nonetheless as I realized that we may have guests and I might be the one serving them. Just to prove her point, she’d have me load up a complete service for one person on large platter with a drink and everything and take it to the table and back to the kitchen when we were done eating. You know, she was right. I had to learn to take a little smaller steps to but if I hadn’t smoothed out the walk and learned to move my hips gracefully, I’d have spilled the drinks every time. The trick was learning to keep my upper body quiet while I let my hips take up the balancing. This also caused me to learn to walk in smaller steps with my feet close together and more in a straight line.

She taught me the proper way to get in and out of a car too, placing my rump in first and swinging my legs in afterwards and then reversing it on exit. I never even knew there WAS a right or wrong way but that made it so easy, I wondered why I’d never thought of it myself. I suppose Mom and Dad would have shown me all this but they weren’t’ around now. She showed me how to take small bites instead of a mouthful, said it was bad etiquette to take such big bites as though I were a wolf devouring a carcass, and chew slowly and with my mouth shut. Now there’s something I never heard of before. I used to gulp everything down and just began to realize that I never really enjoyed my meals before. They were just necessary evils to be gotten over with as quickly as possible. But eating slowly and politely gave me time to really enjoy the meal and taste the food. Eating wasn’t such a bore anymore. It was time for small bites and conversation. She was teaching me how to socialize during a meal. It was rather fun not to just sit down to gobble and go.

I’ve been here six months now and I must be doing too much at home because my body is sore and despite all the work, I seem to be getting soft. My chest is tender and my slacks are getting pretty tight, so tight in fact that I’m a little uncomfortable in them, my underwear included. I really didn’t eat all that much and couldn’t understand why I’d be putting on weight, especially on my bum. I mentioned this to Aunt Rose and she came up with a solution.

She got me special underpants to wear that kept my boy things up and out of the way, not that it amounted to much lately, didn’t even seem to want to rise to the occasion but that garment certainly has made it easier for me to cross my legs at the knee and it gives me a nice smooth line in front. There’s no more bulge there to get in the way of crossing my legs and it’s ever so much more comfortable and looks nicer in all my slacks now too. The only problem with them is that I have to sit to pee since there’s no placket even if the slacks have a front zipper.

Well, I can get used to it I suppose except now I have to wipe in front as well as back as I was never well developed and now I appeared to be losing ground. My slacks are a size nine and when she got them for me, they were nice and loose. Now I more or less fill them completely although my waistline didn’t seem to expand along with everything else. If anything, it’s getting smaller. Well, what the heck. I’m not through growing yet, I’m sure.

October 31: Aunt Rose lives in a rather posh neighborhood and the young girl about my age a few houses up was having a Halloween party. She invited me either out of courtesy to Aunt Rose or because I was in her class, I don’t know which. I didn’t really have a costume but Aunt Rose came to the rescue again.

She borrowed an evening gown, did up my hair in a chignon and made my hair really pretty with beads wound into it and I wore matching long dangle earrings and full dramatic evening makeup too. She got me a pair of matching white pumps with 3 inch slender heels and taught me how to walk and dance in them for a few days before the party. I had always thought that slender high heels must be difficult to manage but was pleasantly surprised to find that these were quite comfortable and I really didn’t mind wearing them for an evening at all. I thought they made my feet look really sexy. My real problem was that I seemed to be rather enjoying these lovely garments and the way they made me feel. By the time the party came around, I suppose I had become rather expert at walking in them so as to not give myself away too soon. My new sandals were that high of course but they didn’t have so small a landing zone. I suppose it was just that the heel was so slender and feminine that worried me but my ankles soon adapted and the little soreness in my calves left too.

The day of the party, she gave me a manicure, shaping my now longer nails with very red polish and also a pedicure with matching polish. I couldn’t wait to see how my toes looked in my sandals now. It had been quite a while since I had cut my nails and wearing the rubber gloves had certainly kept them nice and strong, not to mention long. She shaped them just like a girl’s at least a ¼" beyond my finger tips and I can’t tell you how it felt to have such pretty hands and feet. It was weird how I reacted to this. It was just part of the costume of course, but it did give me a little thrill. Well, I want to tell you I was scared to death but turned out to be the belle of the ball. It was a blast.

I’d never really been popular and I’d never danced with a boy before and they didn’t have a clue as to who the fox in the gown was until the unmasking and then, they didn’t believe it. Let me rephrase that. They didn’t WANT to believe it! The boys were so embarrassed by some things they said to me in front of witnesses that I just knew I was going to be quite safe in school in spite of this little deception. They had lined up to dance with me and their reputations would be ruined if I spilled the beans on them. The attention was quite flattering and I’m afraid I rather enjoyed it. Naturally, I did my best pretense at being a real girl so as to pull off the masquerade successfully and was very apologetic to the boys for fooling them. I really played it to the hilt with the gentle voice and all. The girls were amazed at not only who I was but that I did such a wonderful job of fooling everybody. I had to admit that I really did make a passably pretty girl and the girls seemed to warm to me after the unmasking. I had never been popular but I was that night.

Auntie Rose and I had quite a discussion when I got home about how I had enjoyed myself and about all the boys I danced with. She seemed very pleased that I had such a good time. It was a great deal of fun although I must admit my emotions were somewhat on a roller coaster, feeling giggly and elated on one hand and a bit embarrassed on the other, first for having such a wonderful time being a girl for the evening and secondly, especially when in the arms of a big, strong, handsome, he-man type and feeling very submissive, like a real girl I suppose. It was rather easy to forget I was a boy when a big handsome guy was twirling me around the dance floor.

November 30: Now that Aunt Rose has my manners corrected and my mannerisms straightened out, she’s decided to work on my grooming again. I must admit my hair has become quite long and full bodied and she said she just couldn’t resist doing something with it. It’s down to my shoulder blades now. I had no idea what she meant but she hadn’t hurt me so far, except for the self piercers and that was my fault. Since Halloween, the kids at school have gotten used to the new me. I’ve caught some of the boys looking at me like they do the girls. Have my nice clothes and new manners given me the flavor of a girl? That’s a little unnerving. Could that be lust I see? Heaven forbid. Some of them are really cute though.

She sat me down and wet and wound, clipped and otherwise messed with my hair until she had it all up on curlers. I must have been a sight. I protested, “Auntie, boys don’t put their hair up like this!” “Maybe so, but yours is so very pretty, I just can’t keep my hands off it. I’m sorry if it upsets you but I think you will like the way it looks when it’s done.” While it dried, there were other things to attend to. My manicure never quite resumed it’s boyish charm and my nails remained rather rounded although just a little longer and then longer until they protruded a good 3/8 of an inch and they always now had a coat or two of hardener on them to ‘protect’ them, she said. They were quite pretty even with only the clear polish I now wore daily.

I had gotten used to wearing white hose to school. Actually, I’d always worn white hose to school. I remember when men wore knee high hose and attached it to garters about their knees. My grand dad wore those. And I remember that in the 1940s boys wore knickers with high socks too. Apparently someone had a better idea. The ones I wore now were rather more sheer, I think, and were held up just by elastic below the knee. Some even had pretty patterns in them. I could see my toenails through them and had thought how much nicer they would look if they were in a pair of open toed sandals with sheer, tan hose at school like the girls wore. Aunt Rose had let me keep them painted ever since the party. The scruffy lad who had landed on her doorstep never would have allowed her to paint his toes but I was no longer that scruffy lad. I was much more gentile.

While in the midst of that thought, Auntie interrupted by telling me that she had gotten me a few pairs of casual shoes for at home and school and placed four boxes in front of me while we waited for my hair to dry. I kicked off my shoes and gleefully opened the first. They were a nice, soft loafer with about a two inch blocky wedge heel and a woven vamp in a little lighter color, just perfect for around the house, maybe even out shopping or school. I tried them on and walked around a bit. They were very comfortable. The second was a pair of summer sandals. They were very nice in white leather with several ½" straps across the vamp with a large opening for my pretty painted toes and then an ankle strap and buckle attached to the sling back. They had a crepe sole and a wedge heel also although not quite as high. The name on the inside said ‘Cobbie Cuddlers.’

The third pair was a pair of pumps like men used to wear to the opera. I’ve seen them in older movies. I guess that’s where the expression ‘opera pump’ came from. They were simply an open slip on like a girl’s skimmer flat but with about a ¾" shaped heel. They were very handsome in patent leather and, considering what was to come, may indeed have been girl’s skimmers but I really don’t think I cared at this point. The vamp was cut very low, so low that they actually showed a little of the cleavage between my big toe and the next one. They would look good with either my black or my light green slacks with sheer hose and were very cute though. I loved how they made my feet look.

And then it hit me: these ARE girl’s skimmer flats and I LIKE them. I think I’m really in trouble! The last box I’m afraid, was a bit more disturbing, more of a shock, really. I had tried on all the others and liked them. I did not know if I should try these on nor whether I should be prepared to like them and wondered what Auntie must have been thinking when she bought them. They were also pumps, very fashionably cut, with about a 3" contemporary women’s heel like the ones I had worn to the party. They were obviously lovely women’s pumps and even though I had loved my evening as a girl for the Halloween party, I didn’t know what to say or do. These were for wearing with dresses and skirts. They were downright sexy. “Auntie!”, I cried. “I can’t. These are far too pretty for a boy. They belong with a skirt or a pretty dress and I have nothing to wear them with.” She just smiled. That was certainly a lame comment on my part, I thought. I simply loved them. I just had a hard time admitting it. Oh, I felt my boy self slipping away. Keenan was in trouble.

On the other hand, the thought of wearing such pretty shoes as a natural part of my everyday costume excited me beyond reason. I blushed and my pert and swollen nipples got very hard and I had a series of strange pulsating contracting sensations between my legs. It was really difficult to describe. I felt flushed, very flushed. Seeing my hesitancy, Auntie suggested, “please, won’t you try those on too? They are quite lovely aren’t they?” I slowly put them on my feet. The fit was perfect. I stood up, saying nothing. Oh my gawd, I thought, I’m reveling in real femininity, my very own first pair of high heels. What is happening to me? I love them! “Oh, Auntie, they are adorable. Thank you” I heard myself say in much too girlish a tone and inflection. There went that pulsating again. That feels nice!

I walked confidently to the other side of the room and back with no difficulty at all, having had plenty of practice on Halloween, gliding and undulating my hips as was appropriate in such foot wear as she had taught me before and I’m afraid I had been doing ever since no matter what shoes I had on. It was at that moment that I realized that my gait had developed into that of a young lady and I had little, if any, control over it. I had truly copied Janice’s walk. I now walked just like my girlfriends. I talked like my girlfriends. No wonder the boys were looking at me and small wonder I had found so much acceptance among the girls. I traced it back in my mind to all my practice with the trays of food. I no longer strode. I walked…gracefully, shamefully for a boy, I suppose.

I confess, I did love my new high heels and decided then and there that I should keep them and enjoy them even though they made me feel terribly fragile and feminine. It was a divine, sensual feeling like none I’d had in my young life. I wasn’t so young anymore that I didn’t know what erotic meant and these shoes made me feel erotic. I confess I was having great difficulty feeling like a real boy anymore. I was so much more emotional and expressive than I used to be. Perhaps I had become a sissy, but then, boys wouldn’t be looking at me like they were if they just saw me as a sissy. They were not leering in disgust. It was a feeling far superior to the masturbating that I had recently discovered but that did not produce near the excitement the pumps or my softening chest did. But yet, in the back of my mind, I felt that I was doing wrong, something that was not considered ‘normal’. Perhaps I wasn’t ‘normal’ anymore. Perhaps I didn’t care.

I decided to keep them on though, much to Auntie’s delight. I spent the rest of the evening in that costume and confess that I must have spent more time than usual passing a full length mirror, primping with my new hairdo, straightening my blouse or admiring my new pumps. I was terribly aware of my girlishness that night and confess that it gave me a sense of freedom and power to be able to express myself openly this way. All that was missing was the lovely makeup that I wore to the party and that pretty girl would be back.

Auntie seemed to be smiling a lot that night. She was also very cordial although she continued to point out the flaws in my deportment when they occurred, which were far less to the point she rarely criticized me anymore. I loved the view I got of my pumps when I crossed my legs and crossed and uncrossed them a lot that night. What was going on in my mind that I should be so fond of feminine foot wear or clothing? I hadn’t a clue. Perhaps it was the wonderful feel of the clothing she had gotten me or perhaps it was that I was now less opposed to what might be called ‘feminine’ clothing as I surely loved the pumps and they were surely the ultimate in feminine clothing. But then, I was reasonably sure that everything that Auntie bought me was girl’s clothing. Did she know something I didn’t about how my puberty was going to turn out? Were there options I hadn’t heard about? Why was I so curvy? Why was I excited about the fat accumulating on my chest and bottom? None of the other boys had bodies like mine.

I told her about my sore chest and she suggested that I take off my cotton tee shirt and put on a satin one. Apparently she had foreseen the problem and had gotten me some really nice new silky undershirts. They were ever so much softer and gentler to my chest but instead of the wide straps of some, they had little rope type straps or stretch lacy ones or cap sleeves that held them up. I’d never seen anything like them before. She got them for me in an array of pretty colors and styles and I admit that just looking at myself in my control panties and new Tee shirts, I still looked very girlish and it gave me a certain giddiness. They were very light and I hardly knew I had them on but they did accentuate the bumps on my chest.

“What are these called, Auntie?” “They are a ‘camisole’ dear. It’s an old English word for a silk undershirt.” “Oh, I see.” “There are a couple other styles you may want to try called ‘chemise’ and ‘teddy’. I got you a couple of those too. I’m afraid they have a good bit of lace on them though and chemises are really to be worn with a dress. They are like a very short slip.” “Thank you Auntie.” The camisoles were rather plain but the chemise and teddies were resplendent with lovely lace as well as pockets for my ‘breasts’. And I was getting flushed again as there now seemed to be a little bit of something to put into those pockets and suddenly and without warning the thought ran through my head how nice they would look if I WERE truly filled out like a GIRL! What a terrifying and delightful thought! Talk about mixed emotions! Why was I thinking about dresses and high heels and boys and breasts?

I told Aunt Rose she could get rid of my cotton tee shirts and, in fact, anything I had that was cotton. These were so much nicer and they felt wonderful under my silky tops, shirts, blouses, whatever they were. But not only were the new undershirts softer, I myself was softer, not only in my body but in my speech and in my manner. Perhaps I was also ‘softer’ in my mind, not that I was losing it or was weaker in spirit, but that I was becoming a much gentler person under the care of my Aunt.

I was no longer, if I had ever been, what my peers would call ‘masculine’ at all or anything resembling the rough and boyish slob that arrived on her doorstep. My top and bottom both seemed to have a mind of their own and my arms, well, if they ever had any defined muscles, they didn’t now. They had become slender and unmuscular. I remember that I used to have little maybe 5/8" pink areola (I had to ask Aunt Rose what they were called) on my flat little chest but now they were at least an inch and ½ “ across and turning from pink to brown and becoming awfully fleshy in the bargain. My chest was no longer flat. I protruded noticeably and my pretty nighties hung down from those protrusions rather than my shoulders now!

I’m not so sure it would be fair to even call it a chest any more. I guess that was why I looked so nice in my new underwear. In fact, I swear there were girls in my class who were not so well endowed as I seemed to be and they were careful to be wearing a bra to uplift their tender young bosoms. It flashed through my mind that a bra might not even look at all out of place on my own chest. It was almost like I was growing a lovely feminine bosom to go along with my widening hips and heavier fanny. What a strange thought, a thought that made me tingle with a strange, forbidden delight. Was I growing tits? Apparently, I WAS and the appropriate desires that went with them too I’m afraid! No wonder I thought some of those boys were cute!

When Aunt Rose saw this, she wrote a note to the school and I was excused from gym class permanently. It WAS a bit embarrassing having my chest bounce around up and down and back and forth while I played basketball. It also hurt a bit every time I came down on the floor hard and the other boys in the locker room were having a great deal of fun at my expense.

They made remarks and they stared but they didn’t abuse me.

A few of them were teasing me in a very odd way, almost like they tease with a girl they are flirting with. I would have to cover my nipples with my hands then to cover my obvious excited embarrassment, small is it was. You might think that my reaction would have been an erection. Not so. Indeed, not possible. If I had to give you a size for comparison, I would have to say that my ‘chest’ had grown to about the size of two half navel oranges plus, of course, my distended nipples that now responded every time I became excited. Lately, all I had to do was touch them and washing my ‘chest’ in the tub had lately become arousing.

She finished with the curlers and took them out and brushed my hair again back combing it some but now it fell in soft and tighter waves instead of just gentle ones. It looked very nice and full, I thought, and I thanked her for putting in the time and effort to make me look nice. “It’s my pleasure,” she said. “It gives me pleasure to see you looking so ‘handsome.” We had a pleasant Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings and she let me help her prepare it. I forgot to tell you that she was letting me help her with the cooking now too. I was never one to volunteer for work before coming to live with her but now I seemed to want to know just everything about running a home.

She said I had become quite ‘handy’ around the house. I suppose I had at that. I found I rather liked cooking and I just LOVED to bake! Since it was a special occasion, before dinner was served, I went to my room and put on my Palazzo pants with a lacy blouse and some flesh colored hose and my new high heeled dress pumps. As I slipped them onto my feet and stood up, I at once became excited again as it was just like having a long skirt on with my heels. Suddenly, the thought of wearing a real skirt or a dress and makeup again was tantalizing and provoked another round of giddy excitement but after a few seconds I was able to return to the table in my pants and white blouse without arousing suspicion in Aunt Rose about the way I was feeling. I just felt so terribly girlish and grown up in hose and high heels. If I were honest with myself, I would admit that I had indeed become quite girlish and was unashamedly loving it although I certainly couldn’t explain it. Puberty was really a strange time, I guess.

I had always been rather a layabout at home but here I was more useful and actually enjoying it. Imagine that! I did, of course, realize by this time that absolutely everything that I had learned would ordinarily be considered to be strictly in a young girl’s domain but I didn’t mind. I was much more serene now and I was enjoying all the lovely things that Aunt Rose had taught me and the soft and pleasant clothing that she had gotten me. It seemed that the wearing of all this pretty clothing was having quite an effect on my mind. I truly now enjoyed it and wondered if I could give it up when Mom and Dad came home.

I just loved my new pumps. They made me feel so much more grown up.

December 5th: Pearl Harbor Day. It was an infamous day in history. As young as I was I could not understand why the Japanese had done that to us. I was glad we were friends again though. It’s silly to hold a grudge forever. Well, Christmas was coming and I had already gotten Aunt Rose a gift that I thought she’d like. It was a matching set of ceramic necklace and earrings. She had similar ones so I hoped she would like them.

I had no idea how lavish my Christmas was to be. I came downstairs in my satin nightie with the bow on the left shoulder and mules and house coat on Christmas morning but pretty soon Aunt Rose had me trying all sorts of things on. She told me to go back upstairs and get myself into a matching pair of panties and a chemise and come back down. I think she got me a little of everything: slacks and shoes and hose and underwear and shirts and earrings, chains and bracelets. That was the first pile.

I noticed that the shirts buttoned the same way hers did and asked her if they were really shirts. “Well, no honey, they are blouses but your chest isn’t really built for shirts anymore. You certainly must have noticed how nice your ‘chest’ is beginning to look in your nighties and underwear. You’re still growing. You need more room in there and blouses are made with extra roomy chests. You DO seem to have done some lovely growing there honey.” “Boy, have I ever Aunt Rose. I just can’t understand it. I’m so flabby it’s like I actually have breasts or something. The night you gave me the pretty shoes, I had a flash of how this chest would look in a pretty satin and lace bra. Isn’t that wild?” “Not so wild dear.”

“Perhaps you should treat them like breasts then and see how you like it,” she said. “Open that blue box over there.” “Oh, my! Matching panties and bras. How sweet. My heavens, what am I saying. I’m a boy and I just said, ‘how sweet’ and am excited about wearing matching panties and a bra!” “Are you really excited? Didn’t you just love the Halloween party and dancing with all those boys in your pretty gown and high heels?” “Oh, yes Aunt Rose. It was a divine, wonderful evening. I had a great time and I loved the gown and everything and the boys treated me so nicely. It was a really neat costume Aunt Rose and so resourceful of you to think of something so simple and effective as a disguise.” “And don’t you enjoy wearing your new pumps with the higher heels?” (Blushing) “Yes, Auntie, very much I’m afraid, even though I can’t move or even think of myself as a boy when I wear them.”

“Well, then, if you liked it so much, why not try some other pretty things. Would you like to?” “Oh, Aunt Rose, I don’t know! I really shouldn’t be liking these things but I confess, I do. I love them. I love the soft, silky things you’ve given me but I don’t think I should be feeling this way. I’m supposed to be a boy, not a girl, and these are all girl things but yet I don’t think I feel like a boy anymore. And I look in the mirror even naked and I don’t see Keenan. I see some kind of hybrid girl staring back at me. My hips look like I should be looking forward to motherhood. I’m not sure what a boy should feel like at my age and I’m not even sure I’m a real boy anymore or whether I even care.”

“Here dear, slip on these panties and tuck your little self away and then slip your arms though the straps of this bra. There now, I’m going to fasten it for you and then I want you reach in and to take your breasts in your hands and arrange them in the cups so they look nice and your nipples are about where the seams are.” “Like this Aunt Rose? I’ve never worn a bra. Oh my! They do look much better don’t they? And they ARE breasts, aren’t they?” “Why, of course dear. You’re developing the figure of a lovely young lady and that’s what bras are for, uplifting and enhancing a lady’s figure. Now slip your chemise back over them.”

“I’m so confused. You’ve taught me so much since I’ve been here and I’ve changed so much too. I hardly recognize myself. I had no idea a boy could become a girl during puberty! Look how soft I’ve become and my nails and hair and the way I move and talk and…! My whole body is so smooth and soft and round.” All of a sudden it was like a hand grenade going off in my mind, I realized that it was ALRIGHT to feel the way I did.

And no, I was no longer a real boy in the usual sense and as such had every right to enjoy my girlish things. If I had girl feelings, and I could look like a real girl, as it seemed I most certainly did, then it should be alright to wear girl clothes! Then I thought of that silly expression, ‘if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…” What a revelation! “Alright. I’ll start opening the other boxes.”

“Well, if you want to see a new you, begin with that small package with the white ribbon.” “Oh, hose and garters. And so pretty too. My Mom wears these. I think they are much prettier than those dumb pantyhose.” “Me too, honey. Do you know how to put them on?” “I’ve seen her do it a lot. I think so.” “Remember, they have the potential to be rather risque if you don’t sit properly. You mustn’t let boys look up your skirts and see your panties.” “But Auntie, I’ve never worn a skirt.” “Oh, I think that is about to change dear.” I proceeded to put on the garter belt and then the hose, hooking it up to it’s six garters. “Now the pink box,” she said. Obediently I opened it and found several full and half slips and two teddies. They were all satin. I took off the chemise and I slid a full slip over my head and adjusted the straps so the cups fell around my bosom. Nestled in the cups of my totally unpadded A cup bra, I now had to admit that I did indeed have a bosom. Not much, but a very real bosom, the bosom of a GIRL, sensitive, genuine breasts, a tiny waist and flaring hips.

“All right, now any one of those hanging packages.” The first one was a beautiful wine colored crepe dress with a full skirt, long sleeves and a high collar. It had a slender self belt and a back zipper. It looked very conservative but it was sexy nonetheless because of the material and it clung to every curve. I slid it over my head and actually managed to get the zipper almost all the way up before she had to help me. It seemed I was much more limber than I used to be. “Stand still dear. You’re almost adept at dressing as a girl but we need to get a little makeup on you again before you see yourself. These are girl’s clothes after all, and you already know you make a pretty girl. I really blushed at that remark but nonetheless said a sincere ‘thank you.’ After all, I knew that I DID make a pretty girl after all the ‘flies’ buzzing around me at the party. “Now the little package over there and that oblong one.” I opened the little one first and there was a pair of lovely crystal dangle earrings in it. I took my others out and put them on.

The next box was a pair of party pumps with 3 ½" heels. They matched the dress perfectly. I slid them on my feet and the fit was perfect also. Having danced all night in heels, I now had no problem with these that were just a little higher even though they feminized my gait even more as I strived to put one foot directly in front of the other like a model. I felt deliciously grown up all of a sudden and then realized that it was a grown up GIRL I was feeling like. I looked down at my feet and realized I had to lean over just a bit to see them. My tits were in the way of my view. The shoes were beautiful and so was my bosom. I just knew I was in trouble thinking about my breasts in those terms as I had visions of them becoming large, full, round mounds to be enjoyed to the eye and in sexual pleasure. I got a flash of that hunk Ron Melany caressing them with those big hands of his. “Alright darling, go look at yourself and tell me if you really think you are still a boy.”

I walked gracefully, swinging my hips as I’d been taught and which now was so natural, keeping my upper body quiet and swinging my arms with the elbows turned in a little, to the mirror in the hall. The click of my heels on the hardwood floor sent a thrill through me that I won’t soon forget. I really can’t describe it to you. I knew I was too young to be having such sensual feelings. Or WAS I?

I just KNEW I shouldn’t be having the feelings I was having, wonderful, girlish, sensual, sexual feelings and yet I realized that these were MY clothes. I could keep them and wear and enjoy them at home, if not in school. There before me stood the reason I was so popular at the party. I was really pretty, not just cute. In that dress, it was obvious that I no longer possessed the body or face of a boy and apparently I no longer possessed the mind of one either because I was simply thrilled at my reflection. And my pert little bosom looked lovely in it’s new surroundings with my tiny waist and widening hips in that full skirted dress. This vision should have given me a raging erection but in fact, I had TWO, but both on my chest. Again that tantalizing twitching invaded my groin. It felt wonderful but threatened to turn my knees to jelly. I’m afraid Aunt Rose recognized the expression on my face and the feelings I was having. I refused to be ashamed. I was too much in a state of bliss. Apparently, she had experienced the same feelings on different occasions.

They were MY breasts and they were at full attention, poking naughtily out against the silky fabric of my new dress, visual evidence of my new excitement. Nothing happened in my previous pleasure center except for those lovely little pulsing contractions that felt so good. It was asleep, perhaps never to awaken again. I reached up and touching them, almost swooned. The way I felt right now, I didn’t even care. I turned this way and that and curtsied. “Oh, Aunt Rose, I’m really pretty, aren’t I?” “Yes darling. You are really pretty. You make a truly lovely girl. Now why would a pretty little thing like you want to be a boy and for heavens sake, why would you want to be called Keenan?

“I see your point Auntie. It doesn’t fit at all, does it? How about Alecia. I think that is such a pretty name.” “Good choice. You shall be Alecia from now on I think, even when you have slacks on because you will want to be wearing your bra and a blouse over it now and perhaps some pretty shoes, won’t you?”. “I’m afraid I will, Auntie.” “Alecia is a very pretty name and you are a very pretty girl. Now, model your other new things for me dear.” “Auntie, this is a little embarrassing but I’m having such a divine time like this, do you think maybe that my new vitamins might have something to do with what has happened to my mind and body?” “Well, dear, I suppose that may be true. Why?” “I just love the way I’m feeling so much. Could we maybe…double up on those things and see?” “Why, of course dear. It won’t hurt you at all. We’ll begin tomorrow. What a splendid idea! We’ll give you two shots a week from now on.” I then knew for sure that Auntie was behind my unusual changes but as the saying goes, I couldn’t have cared less. I was actually grateful. I didn’t understand WHY she had done it though.

And so, I worked my way though five more outfits and accessories and a new pair of pretty shoes with each one, both flat and high heeled opera pumps and wedge heeled sandals too. They were all lovely as were the other gifts. She had gotten me all kinds of lovely rings and bracelets and earrings and hair accessories. There were skirts and blouses too but no slacks in this pile. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting to be Alecia at home so you may wear what ever you wish. I’ve gotten you some cute flats, sandals, high heeled slippers and even a bathing suit.” I was, I think quite understandably, on cloud 9. I spent the rest of the day in a new dress with a full skirt, reveling in how it caressed my smooth, nylon clad legs and how my pumps made me take such tiny, feminine steps and how they made my calves and ankles look.

I knew I was going to have to pretend to be Keenan at school and the thought was not a pleasant one at all. I couldn’t walk or act like him anymore. I had become rather flamboyantly feminine always. I had no friends that were boys anymore except for Gil and he was rather girlish too, I’m afraid. He was an orphan who lived with his aging grandmother. We both hung out with the girls now and I felt sorry for him that he hadn’t turned into a girl too as I was so fortunate to be doing. I felt sorry for him. He was such a dweeb.

Of course, being my best friend, he had been over to the house and had come to know the real me and no longer called me Keenan either. I was Alecia to him too and I’m afraid the poor dear slipped up a couple times in front of the girls when he addressed me at school. Now THAT got quite a reaction, I must tell you and they began to call me Alecia too as there was little left to contradict that name. I didn’t know if my heart could stand all this wondrous excitement.

I’m afraid the mirrors in the house got quite a workout that day. I felt like I was trapped…trapped in Paradise and never wanted to be rescued. For the rest of Christmas vacation, I wore only dresses and skirts and pretty shoes, doing my hair up and wearing light makeup. Gil dropped by to see what I had gotten for Christmas and was completely blown away. I’m so totally sure he was jealous that I felt even more sorry for him.

Each day after that, when Christmas vacation ended, I couldn’t wait until I could get home and into my totally pretty things again and be me. What was ever to become of me? I was beginning to HATE being a boy named Alecia. Sometimes when the teacher would call for Keenan, I didn’t answer. That wasn’t my name. It failed to register. It wasn’t that I was daydreaming or defiant. That just wasn’t my name anymore, in MY mind at least.

Auntie had begun calling me Alecia ALL the time now both in and out of the house. I’m afraid it was a little embarrassing when I didn’t have any makeup or a dress on but it must have been only in MY mind. Apparently, the rest of the world only saw Alecia. Strangers always called me ‘miss’ no matter how I was dressed. My voice was changing but into that of a mature girl.

And then I realized that I had become so pretty and feminine over the summer and so far this school year, that it didn’t matter if I wore a flour sack, I would still be taken for an Alecia. It was a wonderful feeling. People in the shops called me ‘Miss’ or Alecia if they knew me no matter what I wore. Men and boys held doors open for me. I didn’t have to worry about being found out as Keenan anymore. I WAS Alecia now. Oh, my goodness! What has happened to me? Of course, this didn’t escape Gil either and he stopped treating me like just another effeminate boy too. He held doors open for me too poor dear. I really wished that I could do something for him, something wonderful like Auntie had done for me.

January 20: the shock of Christmas was waning and Alecia was growing both in size, although not in height, and in femininity.

She was beginning to have decided , make that EXTREME, difficulties pretending to be a boy at school. She absolutely had to wear a bra all the time and she wore blouses to school with her slacks and androgynous leaning toward feminine shoes and she was not passing as Keenan well at all. It was a cruel joke. Her new true nature was showing all over the place and others responded to it and to her beauty, so out of place in an alleged male package. She was going through a perfectly normal female puberty, only she wasn’t female.

A few of the boys who had danced with her at the party began to come around and talk with her, relating to her as the girl she was becoming and using her now well known feminine name. They were big and strong and she was small and weak, a fragile, feminine creature. It was quite an experience for her to be pursued by boys, flirted with, to be shown the courtesies a woman likes to receive, doors opened, packages and books carried, rides home from school. She didn’t really wear makeup to school although she did start to wear a little colored lip gloss that gave a sexy shine to her young lips. Whether she knew it or not, she had ‘come out’ as surely as if she had taken an ad in the school paper saying, “Keenan is dead. Long live Alecia. I’m a girl now” and had been accepted by both the boys and the girls. She now had two good girlfriends she pal’d around with. She walked like a girl. She talked and giggled like a girl. Her manner screamed girl at every turn and every step of her well turned ankles and she was no longer ashamed. She sang like a girl and she looked like a girl no matter what she did or didn’t wear. Her voice was pure soprano.

February 28: Keenan was a distant memory. It had only been two months since she had gotten all the pretty things but there was only room for one person in that little body now and Alecia wanted the space to grow and she literally evicted Keenan. And grow she did. She grew in knowledge as Aunt Rose taught her all the womanly crafts she knew including sewing and knitting and all about the thinking patterns of a female and how to cope with boys, although her ‘vitamins’ were complimenting that rather nicely too.

Her boy equipment became minuscule as she was chemically castrated and mentally converted. There was no area of femininity that was left out of Alecia’s education. She was no longer a size nine. She was a ten and her bosom has blossomed to a very full B cup by her 15th birthday on March 31 and she began to delight in wearing pretty, feminine blouses to school that showed off her charms with a little pendant nestling between them and pretty lingerie that showed through her tops and blouses. There was no longer any way that Keenan could go to school or that Alecia could go back to being Keenan. “Auntie, I can’t be Keenan any more. When I’m trying to be him, it’s like I’m wearing an outsized trench coat covering up the real me. It feels horrible. I HATE it.” “All right dear. Calm down. Perhaps I can do something to help.”

Aunt Rose had to intercede in behalf of Alecia with the school board. Of course, Alecia’s teachers weren’t blind either. Aunt Rose was a powerful woman in the community and by the middle of April, Alecia was in full bloom. Her records had been changed. She attended girl’s gym and feminine hygiene classes with the rest of the girls. Alecia went to school. Alecia was on the honor roll. Alecia was in the Glee Club and got a solo part with her clear and beautiful soprano voice. Alecia wore pretty skirts and blouses and dresses and flats and pumps and was every bit the young lady she had become through Aunt Roses careful coaching and nourishment of both spirit and body. Every stitch of Keenan’s wardrobe was given to charity. “Aunt Rose, why have I become a girl instead of a boy?” she innocently asked one day. Do some boys just turn into girls when they begin puberty?” I was SO naive! I thought all of this just “happened” like sometimes boys just turned into girls at puberty. What did I know? I didn’t really believe the vitamins could be the cause.” “Why, darling? Don’t you like being a girl?”

“Well, of course I like it. I LOVE it. I adore it. It’s wonderful. It’s more fun than I’ve ever had in all my life but how did it happen? I know I was just starting my puberty but I’m having girl puberty instead of boy.” “I’m sure it has something to do with your hormone balance dear. As long as you are happy and healthy, why worry?” “You’re right of course Auntie but do Mom and Dad know?” “It would be difficult for them NOT to know dear. If I didn’t tell them, another one of their friends certainly would.” “Then they don’t mind?” “It doesn’t seem so Alecia. They are the ones who gave me permission to apply for a name change for you as well as a change to female on your birth certificate. I think that pretty well sums it up.” “ I suppose SO! My heavens! Did you send them any pictures?” “Of course. They wrote back and said you were absolutely adorable, just like your mother was at your age.”

April 10: “Auntie, you’ll never believe it. Carl Simmons has asked me to the junior Prom next month. Can you believe it?” “Of course I can believe it dear. What boy wouldn’t want to date a lovely young thing like you. You’d have to check his pulse if he didn’t fancy you.” “May I go, PLEASE? He’s SO handsome and tall and everything. The other girls are just going to die when they see me on his arm.” “Yes, dear. You may go but you have to be in by midnight. Have you decided what style of gown you want to wear?” “No. I was hoping you’d go shopping with me. I’m not very good at it yet. I need more practice and I’m definitely not ready for a strapless, am I.” “Yes, you are dear and I’ll be happy to help. I’m sure we won’t find your dream dress right away so we can begin shopping any time you like. With a little padding underneath, you’ll look like a movie star.”

“Alecia, sweety, before the prom, I think we should have a little ‘girl’ talk.” “About what Auntie?” “Well, it’s quite obvious that you want to be a girl now and you have something on your body that is trying to prevent that.” “What?” “Those little jelly beans between your legs. Not only do they get in the way but they make chemicals that make your being a girl harder.” “Well, can’t we just get rid of them, you know, like tonsils?” “As a matter of fact dear, yes, and that is exactly how we can get rid of them. It will only take ten or fifteen minutes. Would you like that?” “Oh YES, Auntie. That’s where my boy juice comes from isn’t it?” “Yes, dear, a lot of it.” “Well, please help me lose them then Auntie. I don’t want anything interfering with my life as a girl.” “Alright dear. This Wednesday after school I’ll pick you up and we’ll spend just a little time at the doctor’s office, OK?” “Swell, Auntie. I love you. You’ve been so good to me I’m going to hate to have to leave you.”

Auntie took me to her gynecologist and she was right, just a little snip and a few painless stitches and it was all over. “Rose, I had no idea this niece of yours was really a nephew. She’s gorgeous.” There they went again, adults talking like we kids are not even in the room. “I was a bit hesitant about this but after seeing her, well…it would be a shame NOT to do this and that little penis is ridiculous too. Whatever are you going to do about THAT?”

“A bridge for crossing later Betty, unless, of course, you have connections in that area!. I just might Rosie. By the time she graduates, she’ll have lived over three years this way and passed the real life test. It may cost 10 or 15 thousand but I’m sure you can afford that.” “Of course.” “I’ll look into it. What have you got her on now?” “Well, she was on a blocker but now she’ll just be getting Estradiol and Premarin 1.25 twice a day.”

“How often for the shots?” “Twice a week.” “Cut it down to once for right now. At this age, she needs all those hormones rushing around but with the extra baggage, she won’t need as much. Her mind has turned completely, hasn’t it?” “Yes, she’s all girl and loves it.” “Amazing what can be done if we get them soon enough, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see how she matures. She’s pretty enough now for a fashion model. That can only get better. Well, we’re all done here young lady.” “Treat yourself kindly down there until you feel all healed up Alecia, and then just enjoy your new life.” “Come back and see me in a month for a checkup.” “Thank you doctor. I do enjoy it. I just LOVE it” I squealed.”

I was a bit sore on Thursday but wore a control panty and a pad and nobody ever knew it. I had to wear a napkin for a few days just in case I bled a little. Now there was a new experience. It was kind of neat having to wear a pad though, just like my other girlfriends. I didn’t tell any of my girlfriends either because I wasn’t ready for them to know that Keenan was really dead.

For some time I had been sitting to pee and it was just business as usual now. NOW I might even get away with a bikini. That really WOULD be fun this summer. I day dreamt of this hunk I had danced with, one who was still pursuing me. I could just see me lying face down on the beach. He would be undoing my straps and putting suntan lotion all over me, slowly, sensuously. Ooh, I just tingled thinking about him and that bikini. Well, it would have to wait. It was still cold outside. I could still have warm dreams though, couldn’t I?’

It was now APRIL and was beginning to warm up. Auntie took me on another wonderful shopping spree for summer things. It took DAYS to find and carry it all home and we did find the perfect prom gown. It was chiffon and lace and had a full skirt and showed off my charms deliciously with the built in shelf in the bra and in a light mint green too, one of my favorite colors. I was lucky to have such a generous Auntie and such a large walk in closet. Now that I was 15, she got me some more pretty 3 and 3 ½" heels in white and beige and cranberry to go with a new sheath mini dress. I’m afraid it was rather sexy, especially in heels. We got a white bikini that was very tantalizing and lacy satin lingerie and lightweight skirts, dresses, blouses and sun dresses and rompers.

I was so happy, I just wheeled around in my sandals and stood on my tip toes and kissed her full on the mouth. “You’re welcome darling,” she said. She knew what the kiss was for, the depth of what it really meant by the way it was delivered of course. It went far beyond that shopping trip. I never saw it coming because it was so subtle and yet, somehow, Aunt Rose had taken this ragamuffin boy and turned him into a princess. And, in the back of my mind, I just KNEW that SHE had done it on purpose. It was amazing how effortless it all seemed and now I couldn’t even think like a boy anymore. It was totally impossible. My thoughts were focused on school, shopping and boys, hair, nails and clothes and more boys. I knew that I still had that little vestige of maleness about me but it seemed so insignificant and was very easy to hide now. It would be less than two months until my parents were home from Europe to collect me and take me back to a neighborhood and a school where I wasn’t even known. At least, that’s what I thought.

Keenan was gone and I was legally Alecia now. I could go anywhere, but did I want to? I was quite comfortable at this school and was being pursued by handsome young men. It was one night when Aunt Rose and I were sitting quietly knitting when the phone rang. It was Daddy calling from Amsterdam.

“Alecia, is that you?” “Yes Daddy. I guess you didn’t recognize my voice.” “Well, no sweetheart. You sound like you are growing up, different, but you certainly sound happy too. I’m sure you are having a wonderful time there but I want you to think about something honey. Your mother and I would like you to come over here to Holland and spend the summer with us and we’ll all come back next August. Holland is a very special place honey and I’m sure you would love it.” “That sounds wonderful Daddy. Of course I’ll come. You work out the details with Aunt Rose, all right?” “Sure honey. Well take care of everything. Let me talk to her please.”

“Well, Rosie, I see you’ve done quite a job on Keenan. How long did it take?” “You know we can’t get into that now.” “Just tell me.” “About eight months.” “Well, her mother is going to be delighted. I take it she’s almost complete?” “Yes.” “Well, when she comes to stay with us, we’ll take care of the rest. Holland is a very gender friendly place and they do nice work here too. I knew you could do it. You always were a master at subtlety. I’ll make all the travel arrangements but you will have to take care of the passport and when she is out of school, you just have her ready for the trip, alright? You’ll see she has a nice wardrobe?” “Of course. She does already.” “Thank you Rosie. You’ve been a big help and Janice will be very grateful. We’ll make it up to you.” “No need. I’ve enjoyed having her here immensely. Quite an unusual challenge but an adventure too. I’m going to rather miss watching it all happen. It was a lovely, perverse kind of fun.”

The prom in May was everything it should have been and, as a freshman girl, Alecia was on top of the world. Her dance card was full and her date was attentive and actually got her home on time although they did spend a little time getting to know one another in the back seat of his buddy’s car where, let us say, that she was made to feel like a real girl as Carl’s tongue sought hers in a deep and passionate kiss before she was politely escorted to the front door and properly kissed goodnight. And then came final exams, always a joy, which she passed with very acceptable grades.

A few days later, she was as the airport with Aunt Rose immersed in a teary fair well. They had to pay extra for her baggage as there were four large suitcases. She was only 15 but the way she was dressed and made up, she looked at least 18. She wore a dark blue skirt suit with an above knee skirt showing off her full thighs, smooth knees and calves and a plunging neckline on both her blouse and the suit jacket combined with her push up bra served to advertise that she was all girl and proud of it. The young gentleman seated beside her was most appreciative of both her company for the trip and her attire. Too bad it was the Concord and would be such a short trip to London.

Alecia’s connecting flight got her into Amsterdam at 5:40PM and had it not been for the pictures Aunt Rose had sent, they wouldn’t have recognized her. To her parents, she was a vision they had hoped for 14 years ago when they adopted her/him.

Janice had wanted a girl so badly and that was understandable enough, considering that she had missed most of her own childhood.

There were hugs and kisses and tears of reunion and they had the porter carry her luggage out to the waiting limousine. “Well, Mommy, what do you think?” “I’m simply speechless Alecia. Your mom must have been gorgeous.” “But you ARE gorgeous Mom!” “I think it’s time you were told honey. We adopted you when you were a year old. Your real mom died in childbirth and we wanted a baby and I couldn’t have one so, here you are. Of course, I really wanted a little girl to dress and spoil but a boy was all that was available, so we took him. So tell us, how do you feel about all that’s happened to you in the last year and where do we go from here?”

“Mom, I don’t know how to even begin to explain it. Aunt Rose began to sand off the rough edges on me and it just seemed like one thing led to another and then there was a Halloween party and I was the belle of the ball and it was so much fun I didn’t want to stop even though I felt it was wrong of me to feel like that but after I asked Aunt Rose to double up on my vitamins, things were easier for me and I just sort of…evolved into Alecia.” “Well, darling, we have a confession to make. We like you better as our daughter anyway and speaking of that, have you thought about what you want to do with well, you know, the uh, leftovers…?” “Don’t be bashful Daddy.”

“I’d like to pour sulfuric acid on it but I’m sure that would hurt too much. Why?” “Well, here in Amsterdam there is a very famous doctor named Hans Bruckner and he can take that away and leave you complete, undetectable from your girlfriends. We were thinking that if that is what you would like, we can get it done and you will be all well and ready to go back to school in September complete in every way.” “Oh, COULD I DADDY?”

“Honey, you’re choking me. Yes, we can arrange it. Now, why don’t we just relax and tomorrow we’ll take you around and show you all the beautiful sights there are to see here. More tulips are shipped from here than anywhere in the world. We’ll take a boat trip through the canals. You’re going to love it.”

“Mom, you said you couldn’t have a baby. I don’t understand. How come?” “May I tell her?” “I think so darling.” “Alecia honey, when I was growing up, I was a lot like you and I was very lucky too.” “What do you mean Mom?” “ I mean honey, that I was a boy orphan too and taken home by someone else who had wanted a girl. We put you in Aunt Rose’s hands for that reason. She is responsible for how lovely you are. She is the one who helped you become a girl. Aren’t we lucky, the both of us to have been cared for by such talented and devoted people?” “I love you Mom and Daddy.” “We love you too sweetheart. We’ll call Dr. Bruckner tomorrow.” “Daddy, I have a really sweet friend who is sort of a boy and he’s an orphan too. Do you think maybe Aunt Rose would be willing to…?” “She seemed to have a wonderful time converting YOU honey. Do you really think your friend would like being a girl?” “Oh, I’m sure he would Daddy. When I showed him what I got for Christmas, he almost cried.” “Well, we’ll ask her when we get home, alright?” “Great! I think Gil would make a really cute Gillian. He even looks a little like that X-Files star.”

The end…for Alecia, but perhaps not for Gil!

[redgillan]

Missed Chances - part 6

Steve Rogers x Reader [// Bucky Barnes x Reader for now]

Summary: 13 Going on 30!AU - Steve Rogers is crazy about you, but he’s afraid his feelings are only one sided and being one of your best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship… On his 13th birthday, he makes a wish and wakes up in the body of his 30 year old self. The problem is, you’re no longer a part of his life.

Word Count: 3,623

Warnings: Drinking and stuff

A/N: Again, read it and you’ll understand why it took so long. It’s confrontation time! Some questions are answered yay! That said, I’m sorry it took so long. Also spot the quotes from the movie ;) 

The following Saturday, Steve woke up at dawn and started cleaning up everything in sight. It was new to him. From a young age, he had to help with chores in any way he could.

Chores became a daily part of his life; setting the table, doing the dishes, throwing out the trash and cleaning his own bedroom, but he had never scrubbed the toilet before.

Once he was done, he took a step back and smiled. The sight of the spotless apartment gave him a deep sense of satisfaction. Then he went grocery shopping and bought all kinds of candy, drinks, chips and salsas.

At home, he tore open the bags of candy and emptied their contents into the large porcelain bowls he had found in the cupboard. The candy bars were laid out on a long silver platter while the crystal wine pitchers were filled with orange juice or soda.

It was nearly seven when F.R.I.D.A.Y. told him that his guests were in the elevator. Steve rushed over to the front door and glanced through the peephole. He smiled when he saw you exit the elevator, Bucky following closely behind.

You were arguing; you because Bucky had refused to wear a tie and Bucky because he didn’t want to be here.

Steve still had mixed feelings about your upcoming wedding. He was still in love with you, nothing had changed. He was just a thirteen-year-old boy trapped in the body of a thirty-year-old man. And it hurt to know you had chosen Bucky.

Steve was furious because Bucky knew how much Steve loved you. He knew, and yet he asked you to marry him. Betrayal wasn't a big enough word.

Revenge, on the other hand, sounded just about right and Steve started thinking of ways to hurt Bucky. Obviously, he could have tried to seduce you, but Steve doubted he could pull it off. He was good-looking, sure, but he lacked the skills to carry it off.

But he reminded himself that you had never loved him, that you had run away from his birthday party when Brock told you that Steve wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with you.

No, he couldn’t do that to Bucky. He knew first-hand how cruel and painful was. His own father had abandoned his family for a pretty twentysomething. And even though he had promised himself that he wouldn’t end up like his father, he slowly did.

Like father, like son.

But it wasn’t too late to make things right. Somehow you had agreed to come to his apartment, and Bucky was there, too.  

A knock at the door pulled him out of his reverie. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Welcome,” he said with a big smile before he nodded towards Bucky’s old Henley. “Thanks for dressing up, by the way.”

He was happy to see he still was pretty decent at making passive-aggressive comments. That was more his thing than adultery anyway.

Bucky didn’t reply. He turned his head in your direction and cast an exasperated look at you that spoke volumes. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“C’mon in, I’ll give you a tour of the apartment,” Steve continued, undeterred.

Steve gave you and Bucky the grand tour of the house which included the four guest rooms, the pool, the training room, the library, his own walk-in closet and finally his bedroom. Each time you walked into a room, it felt like you were rediscovering the meaning of the word sophisticated.

Everything was either beige, white or taupe, which didn’t give off a very friendly vibe. It was gorgeous, but it lacked a homey feeling.

“It’s beautiful, Steve,” you said as you entered his bedroom.

Bucky dug his elbow into your side and when you met his eyes, he nodded toward the ceiling. You both held back a snicker, but it still caught Steve’s attention. You pulled yourself together and cleared your throat before you gestured toward the mirror above the bed.

“Nice mirror,” you said with a knowing grin.

Steve sat on the bed and looked up at the mirror with a puppy-like confused look on his face. “Yeah, that’s unusual.”

You shared an amused look with Bucky, knowing full well a mirror on the ceiling meant sex and narcissism. Steve seemed oblivious to your little teasing and, instead, ushered you into the living room. The view was breath-taking and he couldn’t wait to see your reaction.

You faltered in your steps as you looked around the living room. It was set up in a huge open floor plan with minimalist décor and neutral colour scheme. It was all about comfort and convenience.

The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, but what really caught your attention were the window seats that ran all around the room. You could see yourself sitting there with a good book and a cup of something warm, enjoying the impressive view.

Even Bucky who had done his best to look nonchalant was looking around with wide eyes.

“Pretty good, uh?” Steve asked with a large smile. He then moved closer to the sofas and gestured at the food on the coffee table. “I took your favorite.”

You turned around and saw the plethora of food Steve had bought for the party. A giggle escaped your lips when you saw that he had poured what looked like soda in a crystal wine pitcher.

“You didn’t have to buy all this,” you said, taking a seat on the sofa. “Oh, razzles! I haven’t had razzles in years.”

Steve’s face lit up as he sat next to you. “Remember, they're both a candy and a gum.”

“That’s incredible,” you said, your voice teasing.

Bucky watched as you and Steve laughed together as if the last 17 years never happened. When he saw you lay your hand on Steve’s arm, he grew more agitated and quickly tried to create a diversion.

He took one of the glasses on the table and waved it under Steve’s nose. Steve froze mid-laugh and looked up at him. “I’ll take some wine,” Bucky said with a faux friendly smile. “If you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Steve replied. He wiped his hands on his jeans and got to his feet. “We’re adults now, we can drink alcohol.”

There was a trap door in the kitchen that led to a wine cellar. Not knowing how many bottles he’d need, he grabbed the first four and an electric corkscrew before he headed back to the living room.

Bucky was now sitting next to you, forcing Steve to take a seat on the opposite sofa. He took the bottle Steve handed him and audibly gasped as he read the label. It was a ’90 Romanée-Conti, and the sommelier at his restaurant would later confirm that it was a $15,000 bottle of wine.

Bucky opened the bottle hoping Steve wouldn’t realize what he’d given him. You shook your head when Bucky asked if you wanted a glass, but he insisted that you should try it. Steve didn’t want wine, said it smelled like rotten fruit and that he’d rather drink soda.

After that, a long silence stretched between the three of you. Knowing the evening would be awkward and long, you had prepared beforehand, choosing a few topics to talk about but Steve broke the silence first.

“How long have you guys been engaged?” he asked, popping a few M&Ms into his mouth.

“Three years,” you replied.

Steve’s eyes widened for a second. He didn’t know anything about marriage or relationships, but it seemed a little long.

“We were trying to save money,” you explained, “but New York’s expensive.”

Steve nodded in agreement even though he only had a vague idea of what it was like.

“We’re selling your mom’s house,” Bucky chimed in. He drained the last of his wine and reached for the bottle before he spoke again. “It could have helped us financially, but no one’s interested.”

Steve had that kicked puppy look on his face again. “You’re selling my house?”

You knew that after what Steve had done to his mom he didn’t deserve your sympathy, but that look on his face made your heart soft. You sent Bucky a glare for bringing it up, but he was too busy finishing his second glass of wine to notice you.

“When your mom died, she gave us her house. She put in her will that we should sell it and buy our own place. That’s what we’ve been trying to do, but the house is in pretty bad shape.”

Your explanation eased Steve somewhat. He looked down at his hands in his lap and nodded his head distractedly. You mentally patted yourself on the back for defusing the situation when Bucky opened his mouth.

“But then again, you never cared about your mom.”

“Bucky!”

He turned to you, his eyes a little glassy. “What? It’s true. He never visited her when she was sick, he never sent flowers, or called. Hell, he didn’t even show up at the funeral. He was partying in St Barts with his side chick.”

“Bucky, STOP!” you shouted.

Bucky poured himself another glass of wine, his hands shaking with rage. “Whatever.”

Steve blanched at Bucky’s words. He had abandoned his mother when she needed him most. Besides, Peggy must have been pregnant with Carol when his mother died. He had cheated on his pregnant wife. He hated himself so much.

He turned to look at you, his heart breaking when he saw the anger and sadness on your face. You just wanted to make peace with your friend.

Steve cleared his throat. “I know I wasn’t the best son, or friend. I hurt you both and I’ll never apologize enough. I wish I had done things differently, I wish my mom was still here. She’d send me to bed without dessert for the rest of my life,” he said with a watery smile. “I’m going to change.”

He looked up to meet your eyes and relief washed over him when you smiled at him. Bucky rolled his eyes. This was just another empty promise made by a junkie, a cheater, a jerk. Empty words, just like last time.

“Cheers,” he said with a snarl, downing his third or fourth glass of wine.

You turned the conversation away from his mom, hoping to clear the air of the obvious tension. You asked Steve what it was like to live in a gigantic apartment and you both laughed quietly as he answered.

From there, the conversation flowed easily. Steve asked you why you had chosen to work as an editor and you asked about his job. He tried his best not to look clueless.

After a moment, you turned back to Bucky, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, and realized he had fallen asleep on the sofa. He was still clutching his empty glass.

“How much wine did you have?” you asked Steve as you looked over at the two empty bottles of wine sitting on the floor.

“Um, none,” he cocked a brow at you, “why?”

You took the glass from Bucky’s hand and placed it on the table. “I haven’t touched my glass.”

“He drank two bottles?!” Steve gasped. “Is he gonna be okay? Should we take him to the hospital?”

He watched you run your fingers through Bucky’s long hair, combing the locks away from his face with a pained, yet tender, look in your eyes.

“He’s going to have a killer headache in the morning, but he’ll be all right.” Bucky looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. You took a deep breath. “It’s my fault. He was nervous, he didn’t want to come here, but I told him it was time to make peace with you.”

“That’s what I want too,” Steve replied quietly.

The room fell silent, the two of you were lost in your own thoughts. You both knew the party was over.

“I think we should go home,” you said.

Sighing forcefully, you buried your face in your hands and remained motionless for a couple of seconds. You had no idea how you were going to carry a semi-conscious Bucky down to the lobby, into an Uber and up the stairs to your apartment.

“You can stay here tonight,” Steve told you, seemingly reading your thoughts. “You can stay in the guest room. To be honest, I was kinda hoping you guys would stay.”

You knew you should have refused, but it seemed like the best thing to do. Steve had four guest rooms and they all looked incredibly comfortable.

“Yeah, okay,” you said with a small smile. “Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning.”

“It’s no trouble.” Steve shrugged.

He snaked his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, holding him in place as he hoisted him against his side. Bucky walked like a puppet, blindly following Steve into the guest room. You had to admit that it was a bit embarrassing to watch your drunk fiancé stagger across the living room.

Once Steve placed Bucky on the bed, you removed his shoes and decided to let him keep his jeans on. Bucky grunted in protest and curled himself up in the foetal position. You picked up a blanket and draped it over him.

Steve walked into the master bathroom and came back with a glass of water and two pills. He left the glass and the pills on the nightstand and followed you out of the room.

“Thanks, Steve,” you whispered. “I don’t think I could have carried him myself.”

He smiled at you. “It’s usually the other way around. It’s nice to know I can help my best friend for a change.”

His words made you think. Steve used to pick up fights with pretty much anyone, but as a sickly, skinny kid, he got his ass handed to him more than once. Bucky finished Steve’s fights, though he wasn’t much of a fighter, he did it to help his best friend.

It wasn’t unusual to see them walking home from school with a black eye or a busted lip.

But his words surprised you because he made it sound like they were still friends, like the last seventeen years had never happened. It put a smile on your face. Maybe Steve wasn’t so bad after all.

You sat on the sofa and poured yourself a glass of orange juice in a wine glass. Steve sat next to you and took his glass of orange soda.

“Thanks for letting us stay, Steve. And thanks for the invite. All these snacks and drinks, they would have made 13-year-old us scream like lunatics.”

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile. “Remember when we used to have sleepovers? We pretended we were roommates. To be honest, I’m disappointed. I thought things would be different. Being an adult isn’t that great.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and raised your glass in a silent toast. He lifted his glass and you both slowly sipped your drinks.

“How’s the wedding planning coming along?” Steve asked. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked.

The question caught you by surprise and your fingers started fiddling with the stem of your wine glass. “Oh, uh, fine. We agreed on a non-religious ceremony and Natasha’s pretty excited because it means we’ll have to come up with our own wedding script. She’s a little too excited about this, but I guess it’s a good thing.”

“She’s basically your wedding planner.”

“Yeah, and she can be a real pain in the ass. She knows someone who works at the Plaza, says there’s an opening for us in November, but we want to do this in George and Winnie’s backyard.” Upon seeing Steve’s wide-eyed reaction you let out an embarrassed laugh. “I know we’re all going to freeze to death but I don’t care. Our first kiss was on that old wooden table they keep in their backyard.”

It dawned on Steve that he had no idea how you two became more than friends. He wasn't sure if he was ready to hear your answer, but he had to know.

“How did you become a couple?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It came pretty naturally.”

Steve listened carefully while you told him your story.

After college, Bucky spent a year abroad in Switzerland. He was the second roast cook at some popular restaurant. You, on the other hand, had decided to move to Manhattan where you found a job as a waitress until you finally landed that job at Honeysuckle.

Bucky and his girlfriend, Dot, didn’t believe in long distance relationships but she had been Bucky’s first real girlfriend and their breakup had affected him deeply. Eventually, he returned home. He loved Switzerland but he missed his friends and family.

The year he came back, he invited you over for Thanksgiving along with Sarah who had not heard from her son since he graduated high school. You and Bucky kissed for the first time that night, it was shy and awkward but it felt like the beginning of something great.

Steve nodded slowly, processing what you were telling him. “And we never saw each other? Not even once?”

You shook your head. “Not after Jack Rollins’ graduation party.”

“I don’t even know him,” he mumbled to himself.

“What? You don’t remember Rollins?” you let out a startled laugh. “Tall dude, kinda looked like Brock, followed you like your shadow,” you pressed, trying to jog his memory.

“Wait, why was he following me around?”

“Because you were the most popular guy in school,” you said with a frown. How could he not remember this? “He was an ass. Actually, all your friends were jerks but, at least you got your wish: you were Brock Rumlow’s best friend. Still are, apparently.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to think. If his friends were jerks then why did he hang out with them? Sure he wanted to be cool and loved, but he wouldn’t have sacrificed his best friends to join Brock’s crew. Right?

“I really don’t understand why you’re still friends with him. Do you remember the promise you made me that night?” you continued, your laugh full of amused bitterness. “No, of course you don’t.”

“I wish I could.”

“Oh, please.” A puff of air escaped your lips as you rolled your eyes.

“What happened that night?”

“Never mind.”

“No, I want to know.”

“Just drop it.”

“C’mon, tell me,” he whined.

Then he started poking your shoulder repeatedly. He used to do that when you were kids and it always made your teeth grind. You swatted his hand away and turned to him.

“WE KISSED,” you barked. “There, you happy?”

The look on Steve’s face might have been comical in some other circumstances. He was staring at you wide-eyed, his mouth partially open.

He looked genuinely surprised and it didn’t make any sense to you. Granted, you had both had a couple of beers and that kiss happened over a decade ago, but still...how could he have forgotten about this?

“We kissed,” he repeated, needing confirmation.

“Yeah.”

“Tongue?”

“Steve!” You glared at him.

“Sorry,” he said with a little grin. But then it dawned on him he couldn’t remember that kiss at all and his smile fell.

“It wasn’t just the kiss, Steve. That night I told you what happened the day of your thirteenth birthday party. When Brock and his friends crashed your party and you went downstairs with a pack of beer, remember that?”

“I remember it like it was-” last month “-yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, while you were all downstairs, Brock came back and cornered me in the kitchen. He asked if I was still a virgin and if I wanted him to take care of it. I was 13, I was terrified. I didn’t feel safe at your house so I left. And then you started ignoring me.”

All colour drained from his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought – I mean I assumed-”

“Yeah, I know,” you cut him off. “You already told me. You were waiting for me in the closet. You were playing that game, Seven Minutes in Heaven, and when I left, Brock told you I didn’t like you back. And that’s fine, it’s just a misunderstanding, but you let things escalate. You just stopped being my friend and you never spoke to me again after that.”

“And what did I say?” Steve asked. “When you told me all this, what did I do?”

“You said you were going to ruin Brock’s life, make him pay.” You paused, then heaved a sad sigh before you continued, “But he’s part-owner of your brand, he makes millions of dollars,” you shrugged. “You did nothing. He has a pretty good life.”

Steve hesitated before he took your hand in his. “There’s a lot of things I don’t remember. It’d take too long to explain and you might not even believe me, but I swear I wish I could remember that night. I’ll make things right. I promise.”

You had heard that exact same promise before, but this time you weren’t a naïve high schooler. People rarely keep their promises. C’est la vie.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrugged, “it was a long time ago.”

“It matters to me.”

You looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “I should go check on Bucky.”

Steve let go of your hand. He had been so stunned he had almost forgotten Bucky. He needed time to process what he was feeling, what he should do.

“Thanks again for tonight,” you said as you pushed yourself off the sofa. “Goodnight, Steve.”

I’ll add the tags soon, I haven’t dealt with them yet.

[privatebartenderhire-blog]

Things To Do In Self-Isolation Covid-19 Times | Mobile Bar Hire

Things to do in self isolating ? With the current climate as it stands, we ask ourselves- As a Mobile Bar Hire company read what things can you do to at home.

Things to do in self-isolation

Things to do in self isolating ? With the current climate as it stands, we ask ourselves- As a Mobile Bar Hire company what things can you do to keep yourself occupied during this self-isolation period? Due to the seriousness & severity of this pandemic , it has been with a heavy heart and much thought, that we have decided to stop all of our activities. We are now currently working from home and will have a live video tutorial up soon, to show our followers how to make delicious cocktails.  With the schools across the UK currently closed, in order to contain the spread of COVID-19.

I'm sure parents and carers, will no doubt be at a loss of what to do. Trying to keep your children entertained, whilst keeping yourself sane- is no easy task! New routines for both parents & children will soon become very apparent. We've put down a list of things that you can do at home, whilst you self isolate. For many, self-isolation can be a disorientating experience. The adjustment to suddenly being confined indoors, may prove difficult for many- especially for those of us who are use to spending 80% of our time outside of the house! It's important to try turn this period of uncertainty, into something positive and try to channel our energy into some productive activities. After all, our mental health is especially important in times like these.

Do it yourself (DIY) self - isolating

How many of us have often looked around the home and thought 'That needs doing' or 'I'll get to that at some point' but we never do? This is now the perfect opportunity, to get those things done- no excuses! Take a look around the house and see what chores need doing. Or what needs fixing. As your time at home increases, the more you will come to realise how much work there is to be done! Perhaps there's a wall that needs a new lick of paint, or the shower head in the bathroom needs a good clean out. This new found time on your hands, will have your house looking spotless!

Get Green in Self-isolating times

The garden, can sometimes give us that dreaded feeling of 'Once you start, you have to finish it' The bushes and grass have long grown and you've been meaning to tackle the job- but you just haven't had the time. If the weather allows, this is the ideal time to get your garden gloves on! This is a great activity, to get the children involved in. Let them get their hands dirty, by getting them to plant some vegetables, or pull out some weeds! The fresh air will do them good, especially if you're restricted to life inside the home. It's a safe place to be, without the fear of contact from people outside. Keeping yourself safe.

Learn about cocktails during this covid-19 times

Learning about cocktails during this COVID-19 time, can also ignite and inspire new ideas on how to make your favourite all time cocktails.  From the classic cocktails such as Cosmopolitan, Margarita or Tequila Sunrise to the most fashionable and popular Mojito or Espresso Martini, experiment with new ingredients to give these classics a new twist! This  is a great way to learn some history as well as educating yourselves. You never know, once the coronavirus situation has passed, you may become the new bartender in your town!

Cleaning in self isolating

It's the dreaded task, no one wants to do. A chore, for most.  For the last few weeks or maybe even months, I've been saying to myself that the oven needs a good clean. Today, 24th of March 2020 in this unfortunate circumstance where we have to self-isolate- I decided to give the oven a good scrub! I took a very powerful cleaning product, sprayed the oven and let the chemical sit  for about 15-20 minutes. I proceeded with a  hard sponge and scrubbed continuously the inside, outside, trays and the metal grills. It took me almost 3hrs to get it nice and clean. I highly recommend to do this, as the oven can become ladened with all sorts, due to daily usage! If you haven't done so by now, get your marigolds on!

Family time in isolation

This is one of my favourite things to do. For me, family time is the most important thing- especially now after my partner gave birth to our little princess Baby Aria, a month ago. Our daily lives, can sometimes get ahead of us. Many lose sight of the things that are important. Taking a positive out of this Self-isolation period, means you get to spend all of your time with your loved ones. I feel very fortunate and  blessed to be spending time with my family, during this uncertain Covid-19 time. If I have learnt something from these past few weeks, its life is truly precious and we take it for granted. So I ask the question, what is important to you?

Take some online courses - Cocktail making classes

If you need something to keep your brain stimulated, there are an abundance of online courses you could look into. We will be doing a live demonstration on how to make cocktails at home - stay tuned ! Once the situation with Covid-19 settles a little, we are eager to get our mobile cocktail masterclasses up and running, for both our new and regular clients.

Get your bake on - BANANA CAKE

Self-isolating means that unfortunately you can’t dine at your favourite restaurant. With talk of a lockdown, you might not be able to get food delivered to you either. This is the perfect time to broaden your culinary skills, by practising some recipes! You’ll have plenty of time to perfect your signature dish. Stuck for inspiration? Be sure to check online- BBC Good Food has thousands of great recipes. My favourite is a very simple Banana Loaf Cake. It uses very minimal ingredients, that you can often find lurking in your cupboards. A delicious moist sponge, teamed with a nice cup of tea!

Meditate in self isolating

It’s important to be mindful of your surroundings as well as your well-being whilst in quarantine. Meditation can help you relax your mind and find some inner peace, especially in times of uncertainty. Find a quiet space, light some candles and clear your mind with some therapeutic meditation music or relax with a meditation colouring book.

Practice an instrument

As we prepare to spend a significant amount of time at home, it’s important that we focus on doing things that will enhance our skills and improve productivity. Practising an instrument can be good fun, and it’s also an inventive way to keep yourself entertained, especially when there are slim pickings when it comes to entertainment.

Movie marathon

It’s finally time to start watching Harry Potter from start to finish,- just like you said you would. If you’re in the mood to watch something more action-packed, sit back and relax, whilst watching the many variations of agent 007 – that’ll give you something to do for a day or two.

Time to get active - no gym no problem

We often find excuses, when it comes to keeping active. Time, being the most commonly heard. Grab some comfy footwear and go out for a brisk walk. The fresh air will do you good, as well as the physical benefits. It's a proven fact that excercising, releases those good endorphins that stimulate the 'feel good' factor in the brain. Set yourself a challenge  with goals, which will keep you motivated! For times, when weather is not on your side- look online. There are numerous Fitness apps out there, along with live demonstration work outs. Joe Wicks is currently doing one online every morning, to help keep the nation fit during this stay at home period. Keeping active and fit is a great way to promote a healthy mindset- especially if you have little ones around! They love getting involved too!

And last but not least…

Staying at home for a prolonged period of time may prove difficult, but that’s even more of a reason to rise to the challenge. There are plenty of things to do to remain productive, just remember to wash your hands at regular intervals and use anti-bacterial wipes for things that you touch or use often. Take hygiene seriously, ensuring all surfaces and areas are clean! It is a key factor in making sure this virus doesn't spread! Testing times will no doubt be ahead of us, make sure you look after yourselves and stay safe!

For future house parties or events

With existing planned events currently on hold, it can only spell one thing. Having to cancel or rearrange in this specific climate, means that many will reschedule for further down the line. However, this uncertain time, will begin to slowly pass and we will no doubt want something positive to look forward to. Begin to think now about future dates and events you have coming. As the Covid-19 situation starts to settle, think about booking that Cocktail Masterclass or even hosting a party with all of your friends. So, if you're thinking of planning  your next party or event, get in touch with us today to see how we can help! For more details please visit our website.

[greyorder02-blog]

Tips for Cleansing Your Living Space Effectively

Being such a high-traffic area in every home, the living-room can get means too unpleasant way too quick. Regardless of how difficult you try to maintain the mess in check, it just appears to pile up over once more on a daily basis. So, exactly how can you cleanse your living-room successfully? Maintain reviewing to find out exactly how to maintain your living-room neat as well as spotless each and every single day. If, nonetheless, professional house cleaners West Vancouver BC feel like cleaning your living room requires too much time and effort, connect to the leading residence cleaning services in West Vancouver and also forget about the mess without lifting a finger! HOW DO I DECLUTTER MY LIVING-ROOM? For most family members, the living room is the optimal unloading ground for everybody's personal belongings. It's where all the children' clothes, family pet playthings, and old newspapers end up, despite how difficult you attempt to maintain whatever in its appropriate area. You need to be in alarming requirement of some useful decluttering tips to make your living area ship-shape if this is true for your family as well. Here's just how you can clear out the mess efficiently: Throw away unneeded things: type through your clutter and decide what ought to stay and what should go. Be fierce! You possibly do not require that nice-looking bottle from three years earlier. https://goo.gl/maps/g3e4otfdoqLW4bSp7 Find clever storage remedies: boxes, baskets, and containers are not only great for storing or sort of things yet can additionally work as decor for your living-room. Shop around as well as find the ones you like the most and also you'll always know where every little thing is! Do not hold on to trinkets: your living room will be a lot easier to clean up as well as likewise look far better if you keep the designs to a minimum. Make a decision which items you want to show as well as which you can store or offer away. Sort your publications: even if you have an appropriate place for holding your old papers as well as publications, they will definitely get out of hand unless you throw several of them away regularly. Toss out pointless things: if something is damaged and can not be dealt with, there's no factor to hold on to it unless you truly can't bring yourself to get rid of it due to nostalgic value. HOW CONTAINER I CLEAN MY LIVING ROOM FAST? Required to get your living-room clean swiftly? Don't misery! Whether you have unanticipated visitors or your property owner coming over, you'll have the ability to make your living-room shine with the fantastic suggestions we've prepared simply for you. The very first step is to get your materials in one place. You will certainly require a big trash can, clothes hamper or box, wipe, vacuum cleaner, duster, and also ideal cleaner. When you have every little thing ready, take the following actions: Take your clothes hamper and also grab any kind of misplaced items as you go. Obtain the garbage bag and eliminate all trash from the room. Promptly dust the shelves, devices, and also tables. Vacuum as well as mop the floor to grab the dust. Use EPA-approved items to decontaminate surfaces. By this factor, your living-room need to look far better. If you have a long time to spare, take your cleansing items as well as do some detailed cleansing. You can obtain rid of all webs or try to cleanse your living space furniture a little bit. SEEKING FIRST-RATE RESIDENCE CLEANING COMPANY IN WEST VANCOUVER? WE'RE YOUR # 1 CHOICE! If you know exactly how to do it successfully, cleaning and cleaning up up your living space isn't that challenging. Still, many individuals just do not have sufficient time in their day to keep top of all their chores. If you are just one of those people, you remain in good luck! There's no demand to stress over the mess when you can depend on the experienced cleaning pros at White Lavender to look after your chores with unmatched precision as well as professionalism and trust while you visit the West Vancouver Gallery with your household. Contact us as well as obtain your immaculate home today! Being such a high-traffic location in every residence, the living space can obtain means too messy way as well quick. Just how can you cleanse your living space effectively? Required to obtain your living room tidy swiftly? Whether you have unanticipated visitors or your proprietor coming over, you'll be able to make your living space beam with the amazing suggestions we've prepared simply for you.

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[aquarianlights]

This has been such a stressful start to the semester I cannot even explain...

I am so fucking stressed out and my mother is not making it any fucking easier. I feel *really* bad for saying this, but I really can’t wait until she leaves tomorrow morning. I really do appreciate what she has done for me today and yesterday!! I do! But...my god, just. . .please, I have SOOOOOOOOOO much to do!!! I don’t have TIME for guests.

Like, I just REALLY enjoy living alone. I get SO much done and I can do everything on my own time in my own way and everything is exactly how I like it and everything is absolutely SPOTLESS and nothing is EVER left out and nothing is EVER not cleaned immediately and everything has a place and everything is in its place at all times unless I’m using it and everything is facing in the right directions at all times and everything is so nice and quiet and I don’t have to worry about “Can my roommates in the next room hear me? Am I being too loud?” and I can cry from my excruciating pain when I need to and I can just get up and run errands real quick when I actually am able to get the energy up to do it and it doesn’t have to be a big thing of who’s going and what are we getting and what do we need because I ALREADY KNOW because unlike my former roommates, I am EXTREMELY organized and EXTREMELY clean and EXTREMELY meticulous about my upkeep of everything in the house (taking out the trash, laundry, dishes, etc...). Nothing is ever procrastinated on. Ever. I have not been one to procrastinate in a LONG time. I can’t even REMEMBER the last time I procrastinated on something.

It’s such a surreal feeling to say this, but I actually do not understand people who procrastinate on everything until the last fucking second. Yet. . .I used to BE that person because of my depression for almost my ENTIRE LIFE up until a handful of years ago so I really SHOULD understand but I’m such a different person that I genuinely don’t. I---Quinn or Killian---can genuinely not even IMAGINE procrastinating on ANYTHING. I can’t imagine pushing ANYTHING back even by like... a day.

The SECOND I notice I need to do something, the furthest it will get pushed back is an hour. Idk if it’s part of my OCD now (since I was only recently diagnosed with OCD and only recently developed it, I really do not know much about the disorder. People reference it a lot jokingly like “Oh my god becky you’re so ocd hahaaha” like white people are so terrible about doing that and I HATE it, but BECAUSE of that, I genuinely do not know what this disorder entails......).

Like..... is a lack of procrastination part of OCD? Because after I notice a thing needs to be done, it eats away at me until it’s done.

For instance, let’s say I notice the trash is full and I need to take it out to the dumpster and change the bag. That involves collecting the little bags from the tiny trash cans and then taking the big bag down three flights of stairs and walking across the road to the dumpster and then coming back up three flights of stairs and then changing the big bag and the little bags. I can see why/how a lot of people would procrastinate on that. NOT ME. Why?

The second I notice it needs to be done, I get this weird feeling in my entire body that is more concentrated in my chest than anywhere and it makes it IMPOSSIBLE to get comfortable and IMPOSSIBLE to focus on anything (whether it be homework, a TV show, or even a conversation with a friend) until I have done that thing. So I literally feel like I don’t even have a choice in doing it immediately. Even if I don’t have ANY energy, I just tell myself “Look. All it is is a less than 5 minute thing that if you get done now will be a lot less work later and you’ll feel so much better when it is done and then you won’t have to worry about it tomorrow so just do the thing. It’s really not that big of a deal to walk a bit. It’ll do you good.”

And I do feel better afterwards. I feel much better, like this serene feeling of relief will wash over me after things are done and I have nothing left on my “to-do” list except long term things and my body will allow me to relax in bed and stuff. It’s so nice.

But this is applicable to literally ANYTHING. Making a phone call, homework, taking a shower, chores around the house...EATING... like, anything.

I can’t find a way to put ANYTHING off for over an hour. An hour is the longest amount of time I can give myself to just...chill and relax after getting home from a long day at school before absolutely NEEDING to do the thing.

I’ve been really wondering if it’s an OCD thing lately. Coz I REALLY DID used to be the person who would constantly put things off until the very last second because I had a negative amount of motivation due to my major depressive disorder, which I really don’t have anymore (I think??). I mean, I would put research papers and stuff off until the night it was due and I would speed-write it in the last few hours before the due date time and submit it RIGHT AT 11:59pm when it would be due online at midnight or I’d do them right outside the classroom right before class or even IN THE CLASSROOM DURING CLASS while our teachers were talking about the assignment and collecting it (that last one was mostly during high school). 

A lot of times, I would procrastinate so badly that someone else who loved me would do my work for me because I was so unmotivated that I just literally couldn’t find any motivation to do it and I’d be crying and cutting myself over it instead of trying to do it ...because I just...literally...couldn’t. There was this executive dysfunction block SO BADLY. I mean, I cannot even express to you guys how bad my executive dysfunction was all my life up to a few years ago.

Sometimes I’d just get 0′s because I’d procrastinate to the point of not doing ANYTHING or push myself so far back that I’d only get a part of it done and I am such a perfectionist that I wouldn’t allow my professors to see anything less than perfect, so I wouldn’t submit anything.

Didn’t figure out until a year or so ago that it’s SO much better to submit SOMETHING than nothing at all. Doesn’t fucking matter what or if it’s not good. They don’t fucking care. It’ll save your damn grade.

But I’m REALLY wondering if this INCREDIBLY STARK CHANGE has been because I recently developed OCD. Because this anti-procrastination/get on top of things immediately thing seemed to develop right around the time I developed OCD behaviours, before I developed an OCD diagnosis.

It’s really odd and one thing that I’ve had a love-hate relationship with.

Same thing with my hyper-cleanliness and germaphobic-ness getting worse and worse and worse. Hell, my mom left her tea cup out on the counter like she always does wherever she is coz she has tea periodically throughout the day and uses the same cup. . .and I just fucking FLIPPED! I mean.... I fucking went OFF. I was shaking and about to have a panic attack.

So yeah, albeit it’s made me an INSANELY clean person (whereas in the past, my clothes would be EVERYWHERE and I’d just leave things on the floor all the time, bottles would be everywhere, the trash would never be taken out of my room unless my parents or roommates did it, and my bed was never made and also had a MILLION things on it at all times and barely ANY room for me to sleep EVER), it has also made me VERY panicky about germs and cleanliness and anti-clutter. I guess taking this human pathogens course isn’t exactly helping...lmao. I need it for my profession as a surgeon, though, so there’s no way outta it. Errrghhh....

But it ALL keeps getting worse and worse and worse as the days go on. I’m getting more and more panicky and snappy over the smallest of things. So far, it seems to be localized to my apartment and my car, thankfully. And, ofc, I do pick up and clean at my friends houses/apartments. Which... they certainly do not mind LMAO.

But everyone who knew me growing up and from young adulthood are all just like “WOW You’re so grown up! Wow oh my gosh look at how clean you’ve been and how spotless your apartment is and how ORGANIZED everything is!! You’ve always been clean, but just had that very cluttered style. So everything looked messy. But my god, your apartment is SO spotless and organized. Do you wanna teach me your secret?? Haha. :)”

They don’t see all the breakdowns I have where I am on my hands and knees scrubbing the same spot repetitively for an hour and then deep cleaning the apartment for the third time in the same day because “I’m just not quite sure it was effective the first two times...” and such. And they don’t see that I hallucinate bugs all the time and have freakouts. I mean, I’ve hallucinated bugs for many years. But. . .it’s been SO bad since OCD came about.

ANYWAYS... I’m gonna stop ranting coz it’s 9pm and I am wiped the fuck out. :| I wanna sleep again tonight since I only got to sleep for 15 hours in the span of the past 7 days. Pulled 3 all nighters and didn’t have time to sleep for much of the other days coz of exams. It was fucking rough. :| :| :|

Gonna have some dinner coz I am hangry. [Still mad about something that I won’t even get into here... if you’re on my fb, then you know...sigh.]

I just REALLY cannot wait to go back to my alone routine tomorrow. I quite love living alone. A LOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. :| :| :| :| :| I don’t know if I ever wanna live with roommates again. Lmao. As long as I have friends nearby, living alone is FANTASTIC. ;A;

[fractalfractures]

A little over three weeks ago, I left to spend the holidays with my family in the US. I’d had a weekend and a couple of days of vacation before the trip and had spent a lot of that time cleaning and working on things around the house -- getting the table cleared off, reorganizing the appliances on the kitchen counter to make better use of the space, wiping it spotless, hanging things up (or trying to, until all of the adhesive hooks fell down; you can’t use nails on tiled concrete walls), etc. I left a list of things around the house that he could work on if there was time but there were only two things that I really wanted:

- water the plants so they don’t die before I get back

- clean up after yourself so things are in a similar condition to how I left them, INCLUDING WASHING THE DISHES. He refuses to ever wash dishes barring exceptional circumstances, and after almost two years of being the sole person responsible for all the dishes (and the counters and the table and the floors) I was starting to really burn out on it. This was to be a vacation from washing the dishes.

So I went to my mom’s house, and it wasn’t the kind of vacation that you spend doing fun things. After a couple of days of settling in and unwrapping all the packages that had arrived for me and going shopping and testing out my new ereader, it was full time prepping for other guests and for my sister’s wedding, with a half-day break to celebrate Christmas on the 26th (there was too much work to do the 25th, and my mom couldn’t afford groceries to cook a nice evening meal for everyone invited, so brunch the next day it was). After the wedding things were much more relaxed but between spending time with family, sorting through the stuff my mom had wanted me to (meaning hours spent scanning photos), last-minute shopping, and becoming super-depressed and constantly tired, and getting asked to start packing days early, I didn’t end up getting to go out and do anything social. Like, immediately after the wedding I was focused on things I had to do at home and suddenly I had literally two evenings left that I could go out, and couldn’t find anything to do in such a short time frame.

My mom apologized a lot for how much of a mess the house was in and while that was something that had bothered me a lot in the past, all I could think about was how little I cared after having to work so hard to make myself ignore all the things that bothered me in my own house, and how incredibly nice it was to not be the person responsible for dealing with it. For a large part of my stay I had a bed, a long shelf between it and the wall, and a corner where I stacked all my suitcases to leave the rest of the floor space for the other person sleeping in the room, and that was basically my entire footprint. And there was always something edible in the kitchen even if just peanuts, bread and goat milk, and even though I never ended up having time to cook I could usually mooch off of someone else who did, and often when I left dishes in or near the sink to wash later they’d just disappear! like magic! SO NICE AND RELAXING.

Conversations with my husband went a long these lines: we both complained about how much we missed each other, but he told me to not worry about how he was doing without me and ordered me to forget about him, go out, meet sexy people, and enjoy myself. He seems to think that satisfying my need for relationships is as simple as driving downtown, walking into a club, and hooking up with a stranger or something. And he talked about the friends who’d come to visit him, and showed me a picture of a mountain of dishes and joked about how I’d have to clean them all for them, and when I told him that he’d better not have a single dirty dish when I get home or I’d cry, joke-complained about his evil wife making him wash dishes. Other times he complained about having to spend his free time doing loads and loads of laundry, and how dirty his friends had made things and how he’d spilled a soft drink on the bed. And more mutual I miss yous. And me complaining about the suitcase full of ridiculous things he’d let his friends order for me to bring back without asking or even warning me about them. (Packing was a nightmare and required taking advantage of both my grandparents’ full luggage allowance as well as my own. Cause he also bought himself things like a bass guitar and two shinai and really heavy motorcycle parts. Two of the suitcases wound up technically overweight but thankfully the airline let it slide.) And me asking if there’d be food to eat when I got home hungry and him saying no, he had ice cream and some plums but all the fruit and vegetables were gone and he hadn’t had time to buy more.

So anyway, I got home last Wednesday and conversation on the way home included exchanges along the lines of: “I can’t believe you let your friends order so much stuff! Do you know what we had to do to bring the bass guitar?” “The bass guitar was for me.” “...” “And come on, it wasn’t that much stuff.” “Next time we should set a limit of one item per person.” “Don’t be like that! And stop making me feel bad about making Grandma have to push so many suitcases.” (She’d had the less loaded of the two baggage carts.) “How come all you do is complain and criticize? You just got here and the first thing you do is complain.” He also told me that, sadly, the house was a mess because he hadn’t had time to clean things since he’d been working overtime and also doing chores like paying half of the property tax since he didn’t have enough money for all of it. Also, he’d washed SO MUCH laundry for me, like 12 loads! I was confused, because I had done all my own laundry before leaving, and he told me he washed the stuff I’d taken out of the suitcases to use them -- which had been clean and in storage -- because it stank.

So here’s the heart of my post: the situation when I got home was this:

- the plants all looked really sad, even the cranberry hibiscus that I’d never had trouble with. He said it was because with the crazy rainy weather that we’d been having when it’s supposed to be dry, they’d gotten too much water. He’d watered them that very day AND it had rained.

- the living room table and furniture were cluttered with stuff even before we opened the suitcases. He then proceeded to take out stuff and finish covering the table in junk.

- the kitchen sink had dirty dishes stacked next to it, including like 8 cups.

- the kitchen counter had a bunch of random stuff scattered on it, including condiments like barbecue sauce that I guess he had time to go buy.

- Yes, he had covered over the back patio like I didn’t want him to (it needs more airflow, not less, and our bedroom’s only window opens onto it so this is kind of important). I didn’t go out to see what else he had changed because I figured it’d only upset me more. At least there wasn’t any more surprise remodeling (which tends to go like this: I get home from work on Saturday exhausted and he’s proud of how he’s spent the whole day working, and the floor is filthy and surprise! Now the shower isn’t working anymore because the changes being made to it were only done halfway).

- the bed was unmade, and linens were in a pile on the floor with the attached apartment’s mixed in. I was like “What are the renter’s sheets doing here?” and he was like “Oh, are those hers?” because I guess he can’t tell the difference between stretchy twin sheets and the smooth double sheets in a different color that we’ve been sleeping on for the last year, and yeah, he’d washed hers along with ours for whatever reason. She came last weekend, and he’d done a great job showing her around and taking her shopping and stuff as well as I guess doing laundry for her but somehow there “wasn’t time” for him to take the money she had ready for us and hand her a receipt. This after a previous renter we let stay here without paying even half of his first payment never gave us the rest like he’d promised and trashed the place so bad it reeked of rotting dead duck for a month afterward.

I had to argue hard to get him to wait to fuck until there was a fitted sheet on the bed. Then he dragged it out for AGES even though I was exhausted and limp a little ways in. And then it’s freaking 1 AM and I need to shower, eat (haven’t had a meal since breakfast), and go to bed as quickly as possible and the bed doesn’t even have sheets and pillowcases yet.

- I went to take a shower and found out that the reason showers at my mom’s house had felt so strangely refreshing is that ours is terrible. You have to crane your body at an unnatural angle to keep from hitting the door while you’re under the water, there’s hardly any pressure, it doesn’t get very warm even on the hottest setting (a new development), the floor was dirty with weird linty stuff and the drain cover had at some point been clogged with slime/hair, and instead of wiping it off he’d put it aside where it had dried and gotten super hard. And the bathroom mat was brown with dirt, and the storage bin on the back of the toilet was filthy, and as usual the toilet bowl smelled so terrible it made me want to gag.

- And yay, he’d cooked some fake meat for me! Except ... there’s absolutely no space on the table to put my tiny plate (which is ugly, ridiculously heavy stoneware that he bought without asking me even though we already had much more practical plates in that size) nor desks or any other kind of surface except the kitchen counter. I ask about the one chair we own that’s tall enough to use there and it’s outside somewhere, because according to him that’s where it belongs. So I hunt around to find a chair not covered with stuff. Then I get the meat from the microwave, where I’d had it heat for probably too long, and instead of burning hot it’s still cold, because stoneware. Also my fingers are sticky and there’s no napkins anywhere in the house and I ask where the kitchen rag is and he tells me there are no rags except the dirty cleaning rags outside. And after I finish I’m still hungry, so I look in the fridge again and oh boy, lentils covered with mold! Which makes me not trust any other leftovers, although on reflection those are probably the ones that were already getting old before I left.

- And then after helping him make the bed, I still had to finish unpacking necessities (pills, sleeping mask, etc) so I could finally sleep.

- And then I lay awake listening to my husband unpack things because his friends could not possible wait ONE DAY for us to finish sorting through our 5 suitcases to collect all the stuff I’d brought for them.

The next day, after I was done crying and biting myself ...

- I found more moldy/rotten food in the fridge.

- In the middle of the day I checked the plant bed, and found that it was bone dry for the first couple of inches. Which means loose dust, since I’d weeded just before I left.

- The missing chair was in the back patio, left where the leaks my husband had complained about the previous night were dripping directly on the unfinished wood.

- The exercise bike that had been in the living room was also there under a leak. I scooted it over, but there still remains the problem that since it’s out back in an enclosed patio with a transparent roof, I can basically only use it now when it’s raining unless I want to be super masochistic and also get sunburned.

- The clothing I had removed from suitcases was in the bag where I had left it, looking suspiciously like he hadn’t touched it. The big pile of unfolded washed stuff included these things of mine: two shirts, a nightshirt, a pair of capris, one pair of underwear, a bra, some socks. The clothes I used the day/night before leaving. I don’t even know how to bring this one up without sounding like I’m either belittling his intelligence or accusing him of lying.

- The lone almost-finished roll of toilet paper in the bathroom wasn’t the only one we had left. We still had most of a giant bag, he just hadn’t bothered to bring more into the bathroom even though we usually keep like 20 rolls stacked under the sink. The shower didn’t have enough shampoo to wash my hair, and the body wash was basically out as well.

-After getting the kitchen and bathroom usable, I headed toward the corner of the bookshelf that I use as a standing desk for my computer. On the way, I noticed there was zero space on the bookshelf for the handful of my books I’d brought back.

- I expected to find my desk covered with a thick layer of dust but he was also using it to store the drone he got somewhere, and the set of foam pieces I stand on had completely disappeared from the house. I brought some in from outside this morning, to use while I write this post, and they were wet underneath and smelled bad.

- Husband wasn’t available to make a supermarket run in the evening, after I discovered the missing shampoo, because soon after he got home the friend he’d invited over to fix a computer for arrived, and they spent the entire evening together. I was in bed before they finished. After I moved the huge pile of clothes, since that’s where he decided to put it so the guest room was presentable.

Just ... when you invite a friend to stay at your house, there are basic things you do for them. At minimum, you make sure they can shower, eat/drink, and sleep. The other thing I absolutely need for daily life is a place to use my computer. And fucking none of this was available for me, and any mention of that gets “Relax! Take it easy! Stop stressing!” instead of an apology.

Anyway, this isn’t just something I can vent about and everything’s fine. This is the kind of hurt and anger that need to be dealt with. I know you can’t let it fester in relationships you care about, but how the fuck do I express it? I already have the problem that half the time I ask him to do anything around the house, I can’t say it without sounding accusatory and like criticism, completely breaking the rule that you should always compliment your partner several times as much as you criticize them. I mean, he’s already upset with me for being so negative and critical since coming home.

I can think of I-statements, of course, but I’m pretty sure his reply would boil down to, “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I can’t do anything about it. You should go to therapy to deal with your pathological obsession with having everything clean all the time.”