#saw someone write the same concept I had been toying with in my drafts and went oh shit. idk if I can post that now

[buzzdixonwriter]

A Mystery

I’m not going to mention names or companies or shows because there’s no point, but I do want to discuss what happened because it opens a window to the pass but instead of letting light in it only reveals fog.

Long, long time ago an agent sent a writer to me to pitch for the show I was working on.  The writer seemed a bit quiet and withdrawn but not excessively so.  They pitched an idea that offered potential for the series so I took them to lunch to discuss the story further.

The writer didn’t reveal much about themselves and I didn’t pry.  They did respond well to the necessary give and take in developing an idea for a TV script so I gave them the assignment and sent them off.

In due time they came back with an acceptable first draft.  I can’t recall if I passed my notes along to them to fix or if I just polished it myself but I do recall it came close enough to what we needed that I asked them to come up with more ideas and passed their name along to other staff members working on other shows as someone they might want to talk to.

Never heard from the writer again. 

Not an unusual occurrence in TV writing.  A good freelancer might get snatched up by another show or find a more rewarding gig doing something else.  The episode they wrote was well received by the fans so I figured I see their name pop up elsewhere.

It didn’t.

Again, not that unusual.  Joseph Heller wrote an episode of McHale’s Navy before Catch-22 broke big, so if I saw their credit on books or short stories or magazine articles I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Nada.

Every now and then I’d check to see if they every published or got credit for anything else.  Nothing.  It seemed as if they vanished off the face of the earth,

The show they pitched and sold to ended that season, but before the final word came down one of the other writers on staff had been developing a story arc for another season based on what happened in the show up to that point.

I never put pen to paper regarding this following season idea but I discussed it frequently with him and knew the broad strokes of his concept.  He wrote it up and submitted it to the studio but they turned it down.

And that, we thought, was that.

Jump ahead a couple of decades.  The show possessed a pretty strong afterlife in derivative media, including comic books.  At one time or another several different companies did comic books based on the show.

As is my practice, I steered clear of these comics.  For my own sanity I’ve found it best that when I leave a project that I put it down and walk away from it.  Looking at what others are doing would serve no useful purpose; I had my turn, now it’s somebody else’s chance to play with the toys.

I am willing to talk about what I did on the show when I was working on it, and recently I was asked to participate in a discussion about the proposed next season that never got off the ground.

Someone mentioned something very similar to the idea developed by the other staff writer had been done by one of the comic book series.

The author of said comic book?  The freelancer who sold a story to me.

Curious, I looked up details on this comic book series.  The freelancer’s run was only a few issues; while I found out they died a decade or so back, I could locate no other biographical data on them.

Now, here’s the mystery:  Where did they get the idea for the comic book they wrote?

Let’s say you’re asked to write a continuation of a TV show that picks up where the previous season left off.

You’ll probably think of a few obvious ideas you could do, any one of which would preclude the others if chose.

Call ‘em A, B, and C.

Say you pick A.  From that you’ll have certain obvious follow up sub-ideas -- 1, 2, 3 -- that could be developed, but again, any sub-idea you pick precludes the other sub-ideas.

So now you have A1.  From there, another level of sub-ideas -- a, b, c.  Pick one.

Put a bunch of writers on the same project, and some will come up with A, some with B, some with C.

Keep the writers who chose A.  From that group you’ll get writers developing A1, A2, and A3.

Winnow it down further to the A1 idea thread.  What are the chances of all the remaining writers picking A1a as their final option?

A long shot…

…but not impossible.

From what I can tell, the freelancer I dealt with came up with the same A1a that the staff writer I worked with developed.

I can’t be certain at this date, but I wouldn’t be surprised if rough drafts of the staff writer’s proposal weren’t floating around the office at the time.

The freelancer did a fine job -- certainly one of the more unusual episodes we did -- but then seemed to vanish without a trace.

They popped back to pitch and sell their mini-series to the comic book company published the property at the time, then vanished again.

How did they develop the comic book idea?

Simply a case of logically following A to A1 to A1a by chance? 

Or did they see / hear / obtain the development for the unproduced season while pitching their script to me?

And if they weren’t plugged into the comics / fandom ecosystem, how did they become aware of the publisher doing the comic so they could pitch the mini-series to them?

I don’t know, and because I can’t say with authority, I’m leaving the names blank so as not to impugn the memory of someone who may just have had a really odd career.

In the purported words of the king of Siam, “Is a puzzlement!”

  © Buzz Dixon

[snorlaxlovesme]

This is just uh. A thing. A long thing. I actually drafted it back in July during Pride Month but chickened out before I could post it. But then I discovered that Ace Week exists and what better time to rant about the quintessential Ace Experience(TM) amiright?

.

I’ve struggled to define my sexuality since I was like 17. I can remember me and some of my girl friends going to the mall and talking about boys. I was currently teetering around a relationship with one of our male friends and they asked me to define why I was attracted to him and I couldn’t. They didn’t really think anything of it, moved along in the conversation and said “well X isn’t my type, so I guess I wouldn’t get it.” But the conversation stuck with me.

1. Because I never really thought the idea of a “type” was real. I didn’t think people ACTUALLY arbitrarily decided who wasn’t worthy of their affection based on a random set of archetypes. I thought they were shallow for saying that about him. I thought it was a mean concept to not let someone be “your type.”

2. Not being able to identify what I DID find attractive about him was....off. Like sure, he looked fine, but tbh he looked like an average teenage white boy and I couldn’t really pick out a physical identifier that made me want him. That seemed like a bad thought to have about one’s significant other.

Needless to say, that non-relationship went nowhere and I eventually told him I wasn’t feeling it. I thought I just wasn’t mature enough for relationships yet.

At age 18 I had my first kiss. Another male friend of ours. Another relationship I’d been teetering around. I had told him multiple times that I didn’t like the idea of dating him so soon after I had broken things off with X. It felt weird, too soon, let’s hold off. But part of me also didn’t like the fact that I was 18 and had never been kissed. It wasn’t at the forethought of my mind all the time, but it lingered back there. Maybe it was because, puberty-wise, I was a late bloomer. Maybe it was because, in my friend group, I was always somehow dubbed “the innocent one.” I didn’t want to continue being late for every major marker in life, so when Y took me up on a hill at sunset and said “I’m going to kiss you now” I let him.

It was not what I thought it would be. All the magical descriptions of kisses in YA books were drastically over-selling the experience. The first one was nice enough, but I couldn’t help but thinking “this feels exactly like kissing a relative” and being a little relieved and little disappointment that the sensation was exactly the same. The second kiss was much worse because he put his tongue in my mouth and I quickly discovered I hateddd that.

I thought that maybe it was Y’s fault. I didn’t like him the way he liked me, so there was no magic. No spark. But also maybe I was just doing it wrong? He did kind of imply that I wasn’t the best kisser (god, how romantic) and so maybe the more we did it the more I would like it?

We went on one more date after that, and almost every time we made eye contact he tried to kiss me. It was horrible. I spent the better part of the day actively trying to not look at him because I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t want to do it anymore. That seemed like a bad thought to have about one’s significant other.

Needless to say, it didn’t work out. I’d like to say I handled the situation as maturely as with X, but in reality I ghosted this kid for like 2.5 months and eventually sent him a facebook message saying I wasn’t feeling it. I figured I wasn’t mature enough for relationships yet.

College I had no time for relationships, or so I told myself. Maybe I didn’t have the mental capacity for them because I was too busy wishing I would get hit by a bus (higher education did not go great for someone with undiagnosed ADHD). I kind of assumed everyone also felt the same way, but people were coupling up around me left and right. Everyone had the same stressors I had, maybe even more so, and yet they had time to form new relationships and have noisy sex in the dorm room next to mine. I didn’t have time, though.

My roommate asked me in those first few years if maybe I was asexual. I actually got mad at her for even implying it. Asexuals were emotionless robots who were so repulsed by sex they didn’t even want to THINK about it. I talked about sex with my friends all the time! I masturbated when she wasn’t around like every other day! How dare she even insinuate that I might be one of those people. I just wasn’t ready to be in a relationship yet.

And sure, I’d been on tumblr for years at that point. I’d been relatively educated about the LGBT community and its various factions. But nothing about it screamed ME. All those people seemed to have the same shared experience of knowing who they were since forever, of experiencing some form of discrimination based on who they were. I had always been straight, right? And no one’s ever discriminated me for who I liked. 

It was weird, though. Getting older and hearing more and more people talking about sex and just like, NOT feeling the same way. Was talking to my friends in a group chat one day, and one of them was head over heels for one of her coworkers. Not in love, but I-wanna-rip-off-your-McDonald’s-uniform-and-fuck-you-right-here-in-the-break-room (do McD’s even have break rooms? whatever) lust. She’s like, “you know that electricity you feel when you’re next to someone you really, really like. where every time you get close to them you feel this MAGNETISM and your entire body feels hot--”

--and all I could think of was how that sounded EXACTLY how Bella described her feeling towards Edward in Twilight, and just how ridiculous it sounded. That’s some YA bullshit, that’s not real.

And then our other friend in the chat was like “yeah.”

Oh. Well I guess I just have a lower sex-drive than you guys. That’s whatever.

I didn’t really identify as asexual until I saw a post about an aspec identity called autochorissexuality. 

The term autochorissexual describes a subset of asexuality which is defined as: a disconnection between oneself and a sexual target/object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacking any desire to be a participant in the sexual activities therein.

That...kinda sounded like me....

Like I said, I masturbated and all that jazz so I assumed I couldn’t be asexual. I literally loved orgasms. I read smut and watched porn to get off like I assumed the rest of the world did, not even really realizing that a lot of people...get off...thinking about people doing stuff....to THEM.

I do not think about people I know when I masturbate. It feels incredibly weird for them to pop up in any of my fantasies, and I kinda just assumed that meant I wasn’t attracted to any of them (which I’m not), so it was fine. It didn’t really occur to me that I literally NEVER fantasize about myself when I get off. If I read smut I’m thinking of the characters. If I watch porn I’m thinking of the actors. Never am I imagining someone hot and sexy doing hot and sexy things to me. I’m not even very good at getting off based on my imagination alone, unless I’m basically writing my own smut in my head and imagining what THEY enjoy. The thought of imagining things being done to ME feels weirdly...embarrassing? I don’t know. I don’t dig it, so I don’t think it. 

Again, it did NOT even occur to me that that might not be how other people operated.

I also didn’t know that asexuality COULD have subcategories like that, other than aromanticism, which was an identity I toyed with for a while and ultimately am still unsure about.

But learning that liking orgasms =/= allosexual was kind of a wake-up for me. 

After learning about autochorissexuality (which, while I am incredibly, infinitely grateful that someone coined that term so I could learn more about myself, I will never identify as because it is a mouthful and I honestly don’t know how to pronounce it), I began identifying as asexual. I was 21 at the time. I’m almost 26 now.

A couple people know. Mostly people who follow me on tumblr that I also know in real life. I never really had to “come out” to them per se because they saw my posts and rolled with it. Wasn’t a big deal. I think that I actually had a conversation and TOLD those friends in that group chat, but that didn’t feel like coming out, more like all of us finally coming to a realization about me we should have figured out a lot earlier. Also, they’re friends from tumblr, so they’re not the types to make a big deal out of that stuff either.

Even though I have a couple of tumblr friends that I skype with regularly, I don’t really bring it up in conversation that much. Like two of my irl friends (who, again, follow me on tumblr) know, and we don’t really talk about it much either. It’s there, we all know, but if I don’t bring it up, they don’t either.

I’ve never really “come out” before. Had to sit someone down and have the conversation. Part of me thinks it’s kind of pointless, because whether or not I’m sexually attracted to others isn’t any anyone else’s business, really. It doesn’t super impact my work life or my life with my friends or family, so why does it need to be said? If I decided I liked women and wanted to date one, that would be a big change that I’d have to address to someone. But me being asexual is just me continuing to not have sex with anyone, the way I always have. Seems like a weird thing to cause a fuss about.

But it’s part of me. And I want to talk about it sometimes. 

But I don’t even know how that conversation would go. Asexuality is a relatively invisible subset of the LGBTQIA+ community. Like, it’s the last letter, the one that often gets cut off. And when people do bring up the A, it’s for Ally. I’m not gonna get into the discussion about that, I don’t know enough queer history to form a hot take, but the point still stands that many people don’t know about asexuality. And while it seems relatively easy to explain, I guess--

”I don’t experience sexual attraction”

--it also feels way more complex than that. And I’m not very good at articulating why I’m NOT something else when I have a hard time identifying what that something even IS. I was the kid who thought having a “type” was shallow and mean! It didn’t occur to me that people’s sexual fantasies INCLUDE THEMSELVES AS PARTICIPANTS. So how do I explain my lack of attraction to people?

But maybe I’m being too reductive of the masses. Like, I’m not the brightest bulb in the bunch but *I* was able to learn what was asexuality was on my own. Who’s to say others haven’t? Maybe I won’t need to give an informative slideshow every time I come out to someone.

...But what if I’m wrong? What if I get into a relationship one day and I find myself INCREDIBLY attracted to my partner? What if I get into a relationship with a WOMAN one day and realize that I was les/bi/pan this whole time? I know that demisexuality exists, I know that sexuality is a spectrum and people are constantly learning about themselves and evolving. I don’t want to downplay that or..or...invalidate that. I know. But I’m an idiot. And I can’t help feeling that if I come out and commit to fun new adjective about myself and then all of a sudden that adjective doesn’t fit me anymore I’ll be labelled as fraud for forever and ever. 

I know that’s probably unlikely for the most part. But it’s still something that’s there in my mind that I feel every time I think about talking about it.

I don’t know. Part of me doesn’t know why I’m writing this post because there isn’t some grand conclusion to my narrative or sweeping answer to my problems. My story continues for as long as I live and maybe things will change and maybe they won’t. I’d like to be able to come out one day and say it. To my sisters. To my coworkers. To some random dude hitting on me who seems kind enough to understand there’s a reason I’m reluctant to flirt back. Probably not to my parents. I don’t know if I want to present the slideshow to them about my lack of sex life, nor do I think they would handle my act of vulnerability with grace or tact (boomers, y’know).

I guess I can end this post by saying that it’s not all bad. Not being “out” kinda sucks, but right now, knowing is enough. There are a hundred other micro situations from my past similar to the ones I spelled out above that made me wonder what was wrong with me. I wanted to be able to like someone the way other people did, to have a normal relationship, but I couldn’t force myself to do it and I didn’t know what was stopping me. The whole am I just broken  conversation whirled through my head many a night in college when insomnia prevented me from sleeping and depression stopped me from giving myself a fucking break. It sucked, and maybe it’s a little grim to think of asexuality as a diagnosis to a lifetime of symptoms, but that’s kind of what it felt like.

And that’s not bad! Why? Because i know that I’m not alone and that this is NORMAL . Being asexual is not being broken! It’s something that many people identify with! And honestly that thought alone thrills me enough to make this whole ridiculous narrative worth it. There’s a whole world of people out there feeling the exact same way as me, and none of us are wrong for feeling that way. It is unreal the kind of confidence that gives you.

My friend from earlier, the one who desperately wanted to bang her co-worker, she said something to me the other day that struck me with how far I’ve come in terms of my identity. I was sobbing to her on the phone about a shitty thing in my life, as one does, and she pointed out how the strangest things will get to you while others don’t even have an effect. If someone mentions how I don’t have my drivers license at the ripe old age of 25 I legitimately have a breakdown on the phone with her about it, but if people make jokes about me being a virgin I don’t even bat an eye. 

And it IS weird. If someone would have made a virgin joke at me at age 20 I probably would have spiralled into one of my late-night, crying-into-my-pillow sessions about how much I fucking SUCK at being a human, but at age 25 it’s just...whatever. As someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction, why WOULD I have had sex already? If I don’t seek it out, don’t want it, it’s not gonna be a part of my life, you know? And I don’t care. Past me, without this identifier, would have cared deeply. Current me could go her entire life without having sex and I don’t think it would drastically effect her mood. 

It’s weird how one little word can turn things around for you like that.

[nightowlfandom]

Min Yoongi- More Than What We Are

REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE! (I also write for anime too wink wonk)

Okay so I don’t have a screenshot since this person sent me this request via the little chat message feature. If you have a request that hasn’t been posted, it’s probably in my drafts.

“Can you please do a scenario where yoongi is an idol who is having a fwb relationship with the reader but the reader wants more than fwb but Yoongi is confused with his feelings. You can end it as you like add a little bit of angst and smut. ;) 1, 15, 23, 89 Thank you. :) “

1- How miserable must i be before you’re satisfied.

15- We can’t all be a perfect pretty boy popstar

23- It was foolish of me to think you could ever want a relationship with me, forget it

89- Me? A jerk?...I didn’t know you felt that way...I’m-

Leggo!

Okay so if you didn’t know FWB means “Friends With Benefits”

Also I’m going to be posting a music playlist of songs I like to jam to while i write soon...as soon as I don’t get lazy and...ya ALSO YOU GUYS BETTER LOVE THIS ONE BECAUSE IT GAVE ME HELL TO SAVE AND POST.

...

You and Yoongi both fell back onto the bed. You took in a huge breath before exhaling with a little laugh. Yoongi let out an audible groan, followed by a few curses. You sat up in bed, looking down at him, who was still trying to breathe in a little.

“You okay there?” you asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Shit.” he smirked, biting his lip. “Yeah I’m good. I’m just-” Yoongi didn’t finish speaking. “Damn.”

As much as you wanted to be happy in this instance...you couldn’t. Yoongi would soon get up from your bed, look for his clothes, then leave. It was a cycle. A cycle that you wanted to break, however you had some trobules doing that.

“It looks like it’s about to rain.” you commented, staring outside your window. Before you could continue, you heard a crash of thunder. “Correction...it’s raining.”

“Yeah, I’d better go.” he slipped his pants on.

“You know you could chill for a bit, it isn’t gonna kill you.” you mumbled. You made sure he couldn’t see you roll your eyes.

“...You know why I can’t do that.” he said, totally oblivious to your tone.

“I’m aware.” you mumbled.

“See you later Y/N.” he winked as he exited your room, still in the midst of putting his shirt on.

“...Yeah...” you sighed. “See you later.” you mumbled, staring outside the window. The rain was your only companion now. You wondered if other girls had to go through this shit show.

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend, you wouldn’t even go as far as to say you two were really good friends. You were basically who he came to when he had a rough day, a terrible break-up, or was feeling lonely. You didn’t want to say “friends with benefits” absolutely not.The word ‘benefit’ would imply that you were also getting something from this sad excuse of a relationship, but in real life? All you got to do was make Yoongi feel better when he was upset then end up being a notch in his bedpost. At least that’s how it felt

It wouldn’t be that bad, if he didn’t treat you like he didn’t know these emotions were going through your head.

...

“Whatcha doin?” you peeked over Yoongi’s shoulder as he hunched over his writing pad.

“I’m having trouble.” he sighed. “Trying to write.” he shook his head, throwing his pen down. “So what do you feel like doing?”

“I dunno.” you shrugged. “What about you? We could go out somewhere?”

“Nah, that wouldn’t work” he shook his head.

“Why not?” you raised an eyebrow. “You asked me a question and I answered.”

“Y/N you know why...” Yoongi looked at you with a weird look.

“Wow, so now we can’t get food without it being a problem?” you rolled your eyes standing up straight.

“We said no dates Y/N...” Yoongi sighed, standing up as well. “Dates would insinuate that we’re together.”

“First of all friends can go out and get food together. Or is that concept too foreign to you?” you huffed.

“For us it’s different. Especially since you know how I am about catching feelings for people.” Yoongi waved you off. “Especially you.” he mumbled, however you were too in your own head to hear that part.

“Oh so having feelings for me is suddenly a negative thing?” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset right now.” Yoongi argued, making you roll your eyes. 

“If you don’t understand then we have nothing to talk about.” you turned away. “It’s above me.”

“Y/N-” Yoongi sighed. “You know what I mean. You know what would happen if we start getting to close.”

“You act like it’s a bad thing.” you scoffed. “Maybe for you it’s a negative. We’ve already got past the awkward fucking stage to just casual fucking-”

“Y/N we talked about this-”

“No, you talked and I listened to you drone on about how we can have the sex, without the relationship to avoid any confusion well you know that....I may have made a mistake but you know what-”

“Then why haven’t you cut things off with me if you had such an issue?” he glared, making you cross your arms.

“I loved you too much to cut you off...it was foolish of me to think you could ever want a relationship with me.” 

“How do you know what I want?” he asked accusingly. 

“If all you see me as if your fuck buddy then you obviously don’t see me as anything more!” you replied, crossing your arms. “You’ve made it very clear that your only interest in me is to-”

“You don’t know what I see you as, Y/N” Yoongi calmed down.

“Wel you wanna know what I see you ask? A selfish jerk who has no idea when he’s playing with people’s feelings.”

“Me?...You think I’m a jerk? I...I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Well guess what, that’s not all you don’t know. Yoongi you have two options, make up your mind or find a new toy. If being in a relationship is such an issue for you then maybe this friendship isn’t going to work out if all you gain from it is seeing me naked.” you whipped around, grabbing your purse off the table before stomping out the door.

.... (Two weeks later)

“What the fuck was that bullshit?!” Yoongi followed you into your apartment. He hadn’t shut up since you drove the both of you home. Yoongi had gotten kicked out of the bar. Why? Well, you were supposed to be on a date with a kind and sweet guy from your friends job who she thought you’d like, but apparently Yoongi had saw you two and went mad. It went a little something like-

(Flashback)

“So anyways, there I am literally running and my sisters are laughing their asses off still wearing those creepy ghost costumes.” your date tried to contain himself from laughing. You were struggling to keep it all in and he told his story. You were were at a bar-club, one of your favorite chill spots.

“You’re kidding!!” you hugged your sides to try to keep from laughing.

“I swe-...Hey...are you alright? You seem like you’re thinking about a lot.” he commented, setting his drink down.

“No... it’s just.” you sighed. “I just got out of this major situation, or should I say ‘shit-uation’.” you sighed, shaking your head.”Maybe I’m still in it since I had left his house without another word.”

“Is it a guy?” he asked thoughtfully, making you nod your head. “Ah, still not over him?”

“No, it’s not that.” you shook your head. “He’s just very confusing and right...behind you?” you trailed off. Yoongi locked eyes with you and he didn’t look pleased as he stomped towards you and your date.

“Y/N, who the fuck is this?”

“My date, is there an issue?!” you asked with just as much, if not more venom.

You didn’t have time to register Yoongi starting an argument with your date followed by him dragging you out of the bar.

(end of flashback)

“I should be asking you the same thing!” you fired. “You literally ruined my date!”

“So you think you can just go and get all casual with some fucker so quickly?!?” he crossed his arms. “You had me worried sick! You didn’t call me for two weeks Y/N!!!”

“OH” you began. “SO YOU DON’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP WITH ME?- SO WHEN I FINALLY DECIDE TO GET OVER YOU AND GO ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE ELSE, NOW THERE’S AN ISSUE?!” you spat, making him scoff.

“I never said I didn’t want to be with you! I said I had some things to work out! Why would you want to go on a date with that asshole anyways!?!.”

“Oh so any guy that shows a genuine interest in me is now an asshole. That’s real rich Yoongi!”you snapped. “And you never once said you had things to work out!”

“He’s obviously some douchebag, have you seen the way he dresses!”

“Well, we can’t all be some perfect pretty boy popstar! So let me get this straight. You don’t want to be with me, but you also don’t want to be with anyone else. JUST HOW MISERABLE MUST I BE BEFORE YOU’RE SATISFIED!?” you snapped. “Why I ever let myself fall for you, I will never know.” you said. No, you weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to let him see you sad or mopey. 

You were fed up. You didn’t care if this ended with Yoongi walking out that door and never speaking to you again anymore. “I gave up so much to make you happy, to make sure you were always laughing even if it meant crying myself to sleep after you left...I was your stupid shoulder to cry on your stupid cheerleader your special friend.” you said, crossing your arms. “....and I’m not gonna do it anymore.” you spat.

“Y/N-”

“So.” you cut him off. “Do you...or do you not...want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Y/N-”

“You...have ten second to answer my question before I kick you out...I can’t keep doing this with you!” you began, scratching behind your ear.. “I wo-”

“Yes! Yes, I do want to be with you!” he cut you off. “I can’t stand being away from you, seeing you with that guy just drove me insane tha-.”

“I don’t believe you, I don’t believe that you’re serious.” you replied.

“Then tell me how to make you believe me!” his voice wavered. You had never heard that from him before, but it didn’t mean you automatically believed him.

“Prove it to me.” you crossed your arms. “Prove to me that you know me outside of-....are you even listening to me?”

Yoongi looked deep in thought, like he was trying to find a way to reply.

“Your favorite colors are (insert top 3 favorite colors). Your favorite korean food is black bean noodles. One time Namjoon tried to prank you by switching your sweet and sour pork with spicy pork.” he began. 

“What?” you were taken aback at his reply. How did he know this?

“You scratch your ear when you’re about to lie. You ran away from a small dog one time because Hoseok told you that they hated the smell of that perfume you always wear when in reality it just wanted some of of the sauce you had spilled on your pants.” he began, which caught you way off guard.

“Yoongi...stop.” you began choking on your words, mainly from confusion.

“You stay up late writing for your blog and playing video games.”

“How did you know I have a blog?” you slowly asked. “I haven’t anyone about that.”

“Who do you think sends you asks everyday.“ he hid a smirk rising on his face. You were taken aback.

“S-so...you’re ‘UndercoverCoolGuy’ “ you said, filled with partial horror. “That’s embarrassing...”

“Mhm” he nodded. “You’ve always loved coffee cold brewed. Your favorite sweets are cookies. You scrunch your nose up and flare your nostrils when you’re thinking hard about something. You talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“How do you know?” you suddenly asked.

“Sometimes, I’ll sneak back in and watch you, just to make sure your sleeping well.” he confessed, his cheeks turning pink. “You enjoy dancers more than singers and rappers. You have to sleep with the fan on, you organize your clothes when you go shopping.” he continued. 

 “The reason I didn’t want to catch feelings for you wasn’t because...I don’t deserve you.I don’t deserve to be loved by you, to be treated well by you.” he sighed. “Like you said I’m just some pretty boy pop-star. Girls only like me because of my talents, my looks even but they don’t care about me.” he continued. “You have men dying to be with you, always ogling at you and asking you out, any one of them would be better than me. Anyone of them would be better for you than me. Even when I tried to push you away you still fell back in-”

“Shut up...” you finally said...”Just stop talking.” You didn’t need another word. You didn’t need to hear anything else. You threw your arms around Yoongi’s torso, pulling him into a hug.  “Yoongi, you’re crying.” you chuckled a little.

“I am not!” he denied, touching his face and wiping his cheeks. “I’m just...sweaty. Shut up and come here.” he mumbled, pulling you back into his arms. “Stay the night with me”

*~*..........

“WOAH!” You had shot up, looking frantically around. You inhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. Your head was pounding at the onslaught of emotions.

“Hey...You alright?” A groggy Yoongi grabbed your attention. You looked at the clock next to your bed. 3:47AM. “What’s wrong?”

“W-wow...” you sighed. “just a bunch of weird thoughts...going through my head.” you sighed, “Very confusing.”

You felt a kiss on your shoulder, hearing Yoongi laugh. “Hm, wanna talk about it?”

“Just about everything.” you raised an eyebrow. You shook your head at Yoongi’s weird expression. 

“What?” he raised an eyebrows. “Like about...us?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I told you-”

“I mean you also did say that there are men dying to be with me and that I don’t deserve you.” you giggled, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Oh really?” he chuckled, pecking your lips. “You are weird sometimes, but...I like it.” You threw your arms around Yoongi’s torso, pulling him into a hug. You grabbed Yoongi’s shirt collar and pulled him towards you. You kissed Yoongi, throwing your arms around his neck. “But I meant every word, I half expected you to laugh in my face and leave.”

Yoongi wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Maybe this was a little different, but Yoongi has never kissed you like this before. He tangled you hair in his hands, running his fingertips through each strand. His other hand caressed your cheek. You tried to pull back to breathe a little but he pulled you back into his lips, moaning almost pleadingly as if he needed your lips on his, not that you minded.

You were yanked onto Yoongi’s lap just as you began to pull his shirt over his head. His body was warm, and heaving. His hands creeped under your shirt, but stopped. “No...we’re gonna do this right.”

Yoongi suddenly pinned you down onto your back, crashing his mouth over yours again. “I’m taking care of you from now on.” he whispered against your lips. “I’m gonna take you out every damn day, stay with you every fucking night, tend to your every needs needs...starting with-”

“Don’t say it.” you cut him off. “Yoongi you know how I feel about word and you know good and well that if you say it that I’ll-.”

“I’m gonna start with taking care of that sweet little pussy. “He cut you off with a sinister sounding chuckle. “What’s wrong Y/N...You don’t want me to tell you I’m gonna take care of that sweet. little. pussy? “ he cooed. “It’s the least i can do for making you wait so long.”

”You’re so vulgar!” you covered your face. His hands creeped under your clothes.

“Hm, I always am.” he laughed, yanking your jeans off. “Fuck, you better buckle up Y/N.”

“Um...what exactly are you planning.”

“Nothing much...it’s just gonna get messy.” he winked, yanking your panties down too. “For me anyways. So you’re gonna sit back and enjoy it”

Oh...oh shit was he gonna-

You were cut off by a lewd water sound echoing through the room, along with a huge shiver skyrocketing up your spine. You looked down to find Yoongi with his lips clasped to your clit. He must’ve noticed you looking because he began lashing his tongue against your hot flesh, flicking up your slit with each pass of his mouth.

Now he had never done that before.

You gripped onto the bed sheet, trying to stay quiet. You’re silent cries only urged Yoongi to make his movements more...well urgent. Yoongi once again, being the vulgar man he was sucked on your clit more harshly, this time moaning into your heat, just to send vibrations back down your spine. You felt his fingers slide into your tight hole, beginning to thrust into you.

“You’re so dirty.” you cried, almost arching into your back. “Smug B-bastard.”

“No I’d say the opposite. You on the other hand.” he chuckled. “It’s dripping down my chin.” he moaned. You watched as he licked his fingers. “But it’s dripping even more down your leg.”

“Stop it.” you covered your face, feeling your cheeks heat up intensely. “So vulgar.” you whined as Yoongi crawled over you, making sure to trail his togue over every slope of your skin.

“But you like it though.” he winked. “I’m not done with you yet.” he growled, hooking his arms around each of your thighs and yanking you closer to him. 

“So uh...be honest with me. What’s the probability I’ll be able to walk in the morning.” you asked. 

“Slim to none” he answered, yanking off his sweats.

“Thought so...” you replied, just as Yoongi pinned your arms over your head.

“I love you Y/N.” he mumbled before he took all of you.

(Lowkey have the urge to do some tsundere stuff....I dunno yet. Bro this was so hard to write I hope the request was what the ask wanted.)

[lawyernovelist]

Review: The Last Jedi

At last! No excuses, it's just taken longer than I expected.

This is the first in my series reviewing The Last Jedi, giving a rough overview of the film and my impressions. I have a lot of them, but I'm going to try to keep this general and go into more detail on particular characters and arcs later.

Cut for spoilers for the new Star Wars trilogy (and the original trilogy, just to be safe) and some light spoilers for the Hobbit movies.

First thing to get it said: this was a gorgeous movie. The visuals were stunning; the shot of the fighters going across that salt flat and leaving red trails took my breath away and it was one of so many gorgeous moments. I could see everything in the fight scenes, there was just the right amount of slow-mo to make things dramatic without slowing things down, and basically one of my first comments once the credits were rolling and I'd got my breath back a bit was "That was pretty!". The new critters were great - the porgs weren't nearly as annoying as I was afraid they might be, though I do have to ask who the vegetarian on the writing team was because that scene was viscerally upsetting - and I liked the fact that they weren't purely tacked on to sell toys; there was little relevance to them, but they were there.

Can I just say again how nice it is to watch an action-heavy film with that much colour and such gorgeous visuals? Fie on all of you who say that mature movies can't be a joy to look at!

And damn, this movie was very grown-up. I really liked the themes of consequences and responsibility and trust and the idea that the protagonists can be wrong.

OK, there's a lot to talk about here and I'm having trouble working out where to start, hence the fact that this post - and now this series - is another one that I keep drafting and re-drafting. I think I'll start with the fact that, despite the fact that I've done my best not to expose myself to other people's reviews before writing my own, it hasn't escaped my notice that this film has not been as popular as the last one.

Now, I actually do get that. I really liked this film, but that doesn't mean it wasn't flawed and doesn't mean that the things I liked wouldn't be things that wouldn't upset people. For a start, that thing I mentioned up there about the movie being very grown-up. I don't want to sound patronising, but I do get that someone might quite reasonably protest that they don't come to Star Wars to be made uncomfortable about the nature of heroism, the fading of glory, and the difference between the good guys and the bad guys. It's just that I lap that kind of thing up. Plus, of course, I absolutely get how certain plot developments are, at first blush, a touch anti-climactic.

The thing is, though, that I say those plot developments come across as anti-climactic, but they actually do a lot for some of the themes starting to show up here. I'm going to go more into those shortly, but the first impression I had is that someone knows their Harry Potter with the whole idea of it not mattering where you came from but what choices you make: that was very much what I took away from the reveal of who Rey's parents were (and that it is Rey Random after all - I was rooting for Skywalker, but I'll take it), especially combined with some of the stuff Luke said about Ren and his "mighty Skywalker blood".

Another thing that this movie talked a lot about was new beginnings, and I think some of the stuff they did with that is another thing that some of the really die-hard fans have taken badly. Now, I'm not a die-hard Star Wars fan. I only recently watched Episodes 5 and 6 and haven't seen 4 since I was a kid, I never really read into any of the background information, and in fact it was only when I saw Force Awakens that I realised there might actually be something to this sci-fi movie series that everyone kept talking about.

I know that seems like an obvious conclusion, but popularity is no indication of quality - look at Twilight - and that goes double when it's something that's a massive cultural touchstone that it's blasphemy not to like. On an unrelated topic, Don't try to tell me about the beauty and power of Moby Dick. I don't care if it's a classic of American literature, I would actually rather re-read Twilight than continue to try to get through that book.

Also, side-note, how come nobody ever told me about Leia strangling Jabba the Hutt with that chain?

Anyway, I do get why someone who had grown up with Star Wars might find The Last Jedi difficult to love in a way that I, with my experience of the franchise, don't. However, I make no apologies for the fact that in my opinion this movie was incredible. Another first-impression comment I made (while arguing with someone at work who hated it) was that it was the first time for a while that I sat down to watch a movie and what I was seeing felt fresh. These felt like ideas and characters and arcs I hadn't seen a thousand times before. And that's especially good coming from Star Wars, which kind of has the reputation of being the most classic of the classics in terms of character and story structure.

Now, I deliberately didn't use the word "cliche". I personally think that's a very unfair term to use of things like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, for the same reason as the joke "Oh, I don't like Shakespeare; it's just full of quotes" works: it's the thing everyone's quoting. Works like Star Wars are the same: while they were building on other things, they're such a massive cultural force that they changed their genres and a lot of people now copy things they made popular.

In terms of the rough story structure (girl finds plot-relevant doodad, gets whisked away on adventure with new sidekicks and elderly mentor, mentor dies, girl defeats baddie), The Force Awakens is pretty textbook (and a lot of people complained that it was just ripping off A New Hope, which makes it kind of hilarious when the same people complain that The Last Jedi isn't Star-Wars-like enough). The Last Jedi doesn't have the same classic structure. In some ways that's a good thing - I've not seen a mentor-student relationship like Rey's with Luke, and I certainly haven't seen an enemy relationship like Rey's with Ren - but I'll admit that it isn't always. And... let's talk about Space Monte Carlo.

This was a pretty big plot diversion, and while it had value it's arguably the biggest flaw in the film in my opinion: we spend a very long time off on this side quest with Finn and Rose and it actually turns out to have been a diversion. And I have to apply the same standard to this as I did to Desolation of Smaug: I don't like it when films willingly waste my time.

Now, I have more to say on that, including why that's actually not an accurate comparison (spoilers: at least Space Monte Carlo contributes to character development and theme, which is more than can be said for the Laketown Cul-de-sac because the Hobbit movies couldn't character-develop their way out of a wet paper bag and wouldn't know a theme if it jumped up and bit them).

Another thing The Last Jedi did, and this relates to Space Monte Carlo, was shatter the idea that the protagonists - especially the badass rebellious male protagonists - can't be wrong. It seems cruel, but one of my favourite things in this movie was the repeated cutting-down of Poe Dameron. That and presenting Luke as fallible were two of the gutsiest things this movie did, and thank you for them. Those were awesome, a fantastic subversion of tropes, and one of the major things that actually made this movie feel fresh.

Don't get me wrong - I enjoy Poe, but I liked him so much more once we'd seen that he can massively miscalculate, face consequences, and grow as a person.

What else, what else...

You're quite right, my Vulcan friend.

We got new female characters! One of them got to make an awesome heroic-sacrifice last stand! One of them made a heartfelt speech expressing empathy for the downtrodden and forgotten, prompting the male lead to look past superficial beauty to the seamy underbelly, then said one of my favourite lines in the movie summing up a philosophy of resistance I'd not encountered in any other movie!

I liked Rose. That may become obvious.

Also, Rey continued to develop and be awesome, Leia was great (she was mad broken in terms of stats, but that seems to be par for the course with Jedi and similar), and there were just loads and loads of other minor female characters doing their thing without anyone needing to remark on their gender, which felt great.

Now, take the rough with the smooth, we will talk about Phasma. That was a pretty serious let-down and also pretty poor craft. Like, really, Movie? Come on, just admit you had no idea what to do with that character from the moment you came up with the concept.

Overall, I'll admit that this movie was flawed. Phasma really was a waste of a cool concept, the Space Monte Carlo sequence was a pretty major detour that made it feel a bit like the characters had spent half the film chasing their tails, and a lot of plot threads that had been built up huge were rather abruptly cauterised.

I still absolutely loved it. It was trying new things, it was taking big risks, and I respect that and really enjoyed the results.

That was a touch whistle-stop, but I wanted to go deep on some specific things. Next up, the villains and the concepts of good and evil in "Darkness Rises, and Light to Meet It".

They’re not all titled after quotes, I promise.

[dlkardenal]

Behind the Scalpel #3 Setting the foundations

Hey there, traveler!

Dar here with another episode of our favorite penguin telling stories clutching a weapon-sized medical tool. Today’s topic starts with one of our dear friends and important beta readers. He just finished reviewing the first draft of our WIP and the familiar itch to write came over him, so he asked us a question – how do you start?

So let’s talk about that, shall we?

A few disclaimers first: we are not a writing advice blog, and we never will be.

There are plenty of those around the web if you’re looking for some, I’m sure they’re easy enough to find because they are literally everywhere. This is more like a fireside story of how we did it and someone may find a few moments here and there that rings a bell or inspire them.

Still here? Awesome! Let me show you around…

I. Our writing style

Before we started creating our little book-baby, we already had a few years of experience roleplaying on play-by-post forums, so we pretty much knew what type of writers we are. Mainly, we are the type that doesn’t outline. Yes, that’s a thing and no, it is not the devil. You don’t HAVE to outline, some people can’t stick to a plan and like to explore the story as it unfolds through the characters. This is especially true for the co-writing method we used, which I talked about in a previous reply, but if anyone’s interested chuck me a reply and I��ll gladly elaborate again.

II. The world

But still, there were a few things we wrote down in a really pretty, ornate notebook. These were the “do”s and the “don’t”s. They are pretty self-explanatory: the “do”s were a bunch of concepts we insisted on putting into the book (to be more concrete, the “do”s were Arabic aesthetics, the appearance of djinn and A thousand and one night type of magic, a kingdom destroyed in a magical cataclysm leaving a desert and the few surviving cities). The “don’t”s were things we detested in other books so we tried to avoid these (things like forced love triangles, the chosen one trope, over the top mythical animals, a prophecy about the end of the world). When we finished this little brainstorm over a cup of green tea, we had ourselves the broad outline (well, not really but sorta) of a world.

III. The main character

Now came the exciting part and a point where our roleplayer past kicked in – we needed a POV character. We decided that Lory would control and act out this character throughout the story while I lob plot-related things and sexy mercenaries towards her, so she came up with the idea of our main character, Zaira. To start with she wrote a page-long text about Zaira smoking hookah in a luxurious villa and trying really hard to forget something in her past. Reading her thoughts two things became obvious: first, that Zaira (or Zee as we call her among ourselves) was a type of djinn that should’ve been able to control air, but she for some reason couldn’t. Second, that she worked as the assistant and adopted daughter of a perfume maker because the only superhuman power she had was an overly sensitive smell. That was all I needed to start and formulate a story.

IV. The inciting incident.

My first thought was some kind of murder-mystery. Maybe an important man was killed, a nobleman and his wife, and the murder weapon was a poisonous gas. Maybe the nobleman’s surviving son saw a young woman, so the city’s law enforcers think Zaira as a perfumer created the gas and know they are trying to blame, imprison, or even execute her.

That was the first idea, so I picked up the scene of Zee in a hookah party and threw a benevolent but serious law enforcer at her. This was Rashad, one of the more important side characters, a soldier tasked with finding the killer. Then all we had to do was act out how would the characters react. What would Rashad ask? What would Zee answer? Would she cooperate? Would Rashad believe her? From that point on we just kept acting out the characters, I swtiched from Rashad to some other faces you’ll meet eventually on our blog and I kept adding random tidbits to the story until it started to take shape. Of course there were a lot (I mean a LOT) of bad ideas, which needed rooting out. So before I weaved something into a scene I always asked Lory out-of-character what he thought about my newly made-up idea. When I got the green light I smashed it against the story and the part that didn’t scrape off on the already existing lore became our new building block. This was the same if she had an idea we could add, and that was the way we discovered our story.

Well, this is kind of it for now. I know it’s a bit shorter than our last post, but you get the gist of it. 

Some take-home messages I wanted to pass: outlining is not the only way, writers are not Mandalorians. There are many ways. Also, it is a good strategy to just dump everything you want and don’t want in your story on a blank page, then mold it into a more or less functioning world, then create a character to explore it and flood him/her with every possible fuckup that can happen. Then just write until a new idea flashes your mind, try that idea against the already settled things and if it fits, go for it! Just keep your character’s personality in mind so they don’t do something unthinkable and unbelievable. Once again I must say this is not a writing advice post, so don’t go burning your manuscript if you’re not doing it like this. Go, find your own path, but if you try how we did it and succeed in jumping into your story, definitely message me so we can cheer together!

Also, we are toying with the idea of releasing the first book in pieces on Wattpad (either the whole thing our a few chapters to give a little taste), so if you’re interested in what that little first scene in the hookah place turned into, please let us know! But if you think that’s a terrible idea and we should sooner hit ourselves with a hammer, then don’t keep that to yourself either!

Dar

[yourwildest-nightmare]

“Don’t let them take your heart” (Year 11 Advanced English Creative Writing Draft)

Dear Ella,

I wonder if you recognised my wiring on the tattered envelope decorated with stained stamps which housed this letter you are now reading. I wonder if you opened it straight away, or if you sat it down on your lap, staring at it for what felt like a lifetime. I wonder if you even read it all, if I am even being heard by you. And I wonder if you ever still think about me, about us, about everything that happened. If you wonder where I am, how I am doing, how I got there. This letter is to explain that. I hope you understand where i’m coming from, and more importantly, I hope you find the bravery to try to understand it. This is my story.

My fingers ran absentmindedly through her chaotic hair, losing themselves in the tangles and waves of her midnight locks. “You know,” she smirked, gazing down at me, “I could always make you a wig? Or maybe a doll? That way you’ll always have someone to play with, even when you’re cursed with the lack of my presence.” Laughing, I forced myself to withdraw my hands from her mane. Control; I’ve never been much good at it, especially when it comes to her. “Hey, what are you doing?” She grabbed my hands before they had time to return to their position by my side, holding them in hers. Our fingers, touching. Our fingers, interlocking. Our eyes, meeting… “oh, um, you said…I thought…” Blushing dramatically, I could feel myself turning all kinds of crimson. I could only imagine how much she was enjoying this. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?” Her gaze locked with mine, challenging me. Everything was a game with her. Then, with parents and a reputation like hers I suppose it kind of had to be. Slowly, her gaze softened, her hand moving to stroke the side of my face. “How can something so wrong, feel so right?” She sighed, leaning in closer, closer, closer…lips on lips, our tongues danced together, our bodies moving into the familiar pieces of each other. Closing my eyes, I was being swept away into the peacefulness nothingness of the combining of our minds. That was the last moment I remember feeling anything that even resembled happiness.The screeching of the front door; my mind was too lost to process anything but her. Footsteps coming closer; Why couldn't I have heard them? The tapping on my door, the click of the knob turning; Her hair, her back, her face, her lips…The shock, the screams, the cans rolling across the room, the shattered glass in every direction. Her eyes, my eyes. Our mind, tearing itself apart for the final time. If only I had been more careful. Why couldn't I have been more careful?

“Lexa? Hey, Lex, wake up, you’re dreaming again.” My eyes flung open to a set of dark blue ones staring back at me. Nick. As my eyes started to process the images around the room, my body relaxed under the soothing touch of his hand on mine. Sweat was dripping down my forehead, down my back, creating a puddle on the mattress I lay on. I could see Aaron and Sam standing around the bottom of my bed, looking at me in the same worrisome way they always did. Sometimes it felt like I was the child of the family, the one who always needed someone to watch them to ensure they didn’t get themselves into any trouble. Except my kind of trouble was different; it was the screaming in my dreams, the screaming when I was awake. The panic attacks I had during one of the flashbacks from the institute, or the cage of silence I locked myself away in when my brain become too loud. I was the child of the family, but I was a child of chaos and misery and fear. My tantrums weren’t over not getting a toy in the shop, but over not being the person my parents wanted me to be. They were over not being accepted by my family, my friends. They were at the thought of how it used to be before I found my own family, before I made my own family. Looking at them now, huddled around me I knew I had to try harder to be better. We all had our demons, that I knew, but I couldn’t keep letting mine stop me from becoming me; I couldn't let it stop me from becoming happy. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ll be fine. I just need to finish this.” I assure them, heading over to the desk in the corner of the room and picking my pen and paper up where I had left it…

The first person to teach me that loving myself is not a given was Nick. He taught me that who I am had been programmed into me since I was born, and when the day came that I found I wasn’t who my family thought I was, my programmed response was to hate, to hurt, to kill. We spent months in that institute together, nursing one another back to health, back to happiness. He taught me what it was like to feel at home, to feel loved. He taught me what it was like to have a family. You see, blood does not equate to family, at least not in the emotional sense. Nick taught me that. He taught me that we have the power to choose our own family if the one we are born into is not the right one for us. He taught me that your biological family isn’t always the right family for you. You need to find where you belong, where you are accepted, and stop living in the shadows of who they want you to be. And if they can’t love you for who you are, then are they really your family? Don’t let them take your heart, Ella. Remember who you are; Nothing else matters.

“Alexis Zane, it’s 12 O’ clock. You know what that means.”

Control; I don’t think I even understand the meaning of it anymore. At least, I don’t recall what if feels like to have it, to use it, to feel it. Day by day, week by week, month by month I watched my reflection in the mirror become sharper, stranger, unrecognisable. I wonder if she would look at me the same now? Left, right, left, right, left, right. They led me down the endless corridor, as they had done every day since I had arrived. The familiar screeches and scratching filled my ears-I had learnt how to block that out a while ago now. My eyes found the door, towering above me taunting me with the secrets it held inside. I almost stopped. I saw the guard glance at me, their weight shift, preparing, always preparing. Not today. I couldn’t mess up today. I forced myself to place one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right, left, right.  The guards closed the door behind me, leaving me with doctor Sullivan and her soul eating smile. “Alexis, dear! What a sight for sore eyes. Come, come, sit down. Tell me how you’re feeling? It’s a big day for you! You must be so excited.” Her eyes searched mine, looking for any hesitancy, looking for any reason to make me stay. I wouldn't give her the pleasure. Forcing my mouth as wide as it would go, my eyes as bright and alive as they could be, I returned her gaze steadily. “I couldn’t be happier. I can't wait for things to finally be normal again”. Normal; What a word that was. It’s ironic, a girl who has never known the concept of normality using it so freely and confidently as if I know what the hell “normal” is. As if I have any right to pretend I do. It was the right answer though. Sullivan’s smile tightens- there’s nothing she can do to keep me here. Clasping her hands together on the auburn table, her voice softens. “Alexis, I am so proud of how far you have come dear. Not everyone is as willing for the cure as you were. Your family is going to be so happy to see the girl you have become. Keep in touch deary, we are always here if you stumble across anymore…mishaps.” That was the last time I saw Doctor Sullivan. Racing through the corridors I weaved my way around the puzzle that had been my home for the last 6 months. Where was he? I had 10 minutes. 10 minutes until I left. I couldn't go without seeing him first though, I just couldn’t. I wouldn't be getting out if it wasn't for him. Hell, I wouldn't still be breathing if it wasn't for him. “Hey, Princess! Didn’t think you could leave without a goodbye did you?” Spinning around, I saw him leaning against the wall I had just walked past, examining his nails, trying to contain his grin. “Not a chance.” I grinned, running towards him and throwing my arms around his neck, burying my head into his chest. It felt like I could finally breathe again, the bakery stench of his cologne filling my lungs, the strong grasp of his hands pulling me closer to him and further away from the world. “It’s gonna be okay Lex”, he whispered into my ear. “It’s all gonna be okay, I promise.” “There she is. Alexis Zane, it’s time. Please remove yourself from the boy and come with us. Your family is waiting for you.” The voice boomed across the hall, intruding into our world. Nick grabbed my face with his hands, staring into my eyes. I could feel the sting of my tears brewing, threatening to spill at any minute. Keep it together, Lexa. Don’t let them see you cry. “Promise me,” He said, frantically searching my eyes, “promise me you won’t let them put out the fire that curses through your mind. Promise me that you won’t let them take your mind, or more importantly, your heart. Remember who you are Alexis. Nothing else matters.” His eyes held my gaze for a second longer before his lips crashed into my forehead. Before I knew it we were being ripped apart, him pulled one way and me the other. This was not how it was supposed to be. There was nothing wrong with us! I felt like screaming, like kicking, like putting them through the relentless torture they had put us through. But what was the use? They always won in the end. And us? We always lost.

The singing of the morning birds woke me to the joy that accompanied sleeping in a desk chair all night. Stretching out my muscles, I walked down the stairs to where the morning beams sneaked in through the windows of the kitchen view. Aaron was sitting at the table, the smell of his coffee attacking my senses. “Morning love, how did you sleep?” “As well as you would expect for someone writing a letter to their ex” I remarked, taking a sip of his half empty coffee. I scrunched my nose up in disgust, barely manning to swallow the vile liquid. “This crap is disgusting, I still have no idea why you continue to drink it every morning.” “And I still have no idea why you continue to taste it every morning, then continue to insult me about it. Just go get your juice, Lex.” “Fair point. Who knows, maybe tomorrow will be different.” “You? Take my advice? Make a change? Now that would be something i’d pay good money to see Lexa Zane.” “Shut up Wilden.” “Whatever you say, Ma’am.” After pouring myself a glass of juice (which Aaron looked smug as ever about) I retreated back to the study to continue the letter.  

During my discovery of life, I met a boy named Aaron. While upon first glance he seemed below average, lacking in any extraordinary characteristics what so ever, it was once you got to know him that you realised how special he truly was. He was the third part of our little family. It was him who taught me that society fears what it does not know. It sees someone different, someone struggling with the puzzle of life, and instead of helping them put it together they throw away the pieces. Society isolates you in your differences, in your misery. It makes you think that you are alone, that you are unwanted and unworthy. But the truth is, you are none of those things. You are not alone in your misery; when you are left with nothing, questioning who you are and what you have become, you still have your family. Aaron’s bother died when he was 15, dealing drugs to provide for his parents. I don’t think he ever forgave them for that. He ran away a week later, vowing to never be like the people who had made him, vowing to be who he wanted to be; to be someone his brother would be proud of. Me, I want to be someone I would be proud of. And I want you to do the same. You are not alone, Ella. You are not an outcast of society. But if you are, who cares? Revel in your differences, they are what make you, you. No one can take that away from you, not even your parents.

“Hey, Lex, how’s it coming along?” Sam asked, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, trying to sneak a glance at my writing. “Not a chance hot stuff.” I say, snatching the letter out of her view and slipping it into the waistband of my pants. “Oh, is that how we’re going to play it, huh?” She smirked, grabbing my waist and spinning me around so our faces were inches apart. Slowly, she curled a loose strand of my hair around her finger, never losing eye contact with me even once. I was hyperaware of the paper in my jeans, of her hand on my hip, slowly edging its way down…She was whispering something in my ear, attempting to distract me with her sweet words and passionate kisses. God, it had been so long…It almost got me. Almost. “Sam, no.” I said, ripping myself out of her arms and taking a step back, putting some distance between us. “I just don’t understand what the big deal is? It’s a letter to Ella right? Why can’t I just read it?” “Because it’s personal, okay. Just drop it. You need to trust me more. I thought we’d been over this?” She sighed, defeated. “I do trust you. But you can’t blame me for being a little touchy about you wiring some secret letter to your ex girlfriend. As your new girlfriend, jealousy is sort of a natural reaction, Lex.” “I know, Sammy, I know. I’m almost done, I swear. And then you can have all my attention.” “Yeah well, you owe me big babe. I expect a grand gesture of some kind, maybe some red wine and rose petals?” “Yeah, we’ll see.” I waited for her to leave before I picked up the cold pen again.

There’s something that everyone in my little misfit family all have in common; the question of what it’s like to have somewhere you belong. Samantha was the 4th addition to our family, us meeting her in a club in the middle of Sydney. She really was the life of party, surrounded by girls and boys and everything in between, her aurora just seemed to grab you and pull you in until before you knew it you were dancing right infront of her, screaming for her attention. Turns out, she was the one screaming. Being an orphan, she had never known the concept of family. She had never known what it was like to disappoint someone or for them to love you despite that. She told me when I first met her that she despised me for my upbringing, for my privileged lifestyle and how I had left it so easily. She almost made me want to go back, want to turn my back on everything Nick and Aaron had taught me. But I didn’t. Instead, I concentrated my energy on teaching her. Teaching her about family, about love. Teaching her about pain and about heartbreak. What I discovered in trying to teach her was that it is never too late to start. To start living, start loving, hell, start existing. Because if you are not being yourself, are you really even exisiting? Aren’t you just floating along, morphing into those around you, being told day by day that “Wow, you’re so much like your mother!” and smiling like that was a good thing. Being told you’re so different from your mother, and smiling like that was a good thing. If exisiting means becoming ghosts of the people you surround yourself with, then what does living mean? And wouldn't you want to find out? Wouldn't you want to give yourself every possible chance at a life of greatness, at a life of truth.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss my family. But I would also be lying if I said that being with them didn’t make me feel like I was in a constant state of a thunderstorm. it was as though when I was with them, being who they wanted me to be, I was being drowned by the rain of my own tears. It’s not that I don’t like the people they are; it’s that I don’t like the way they treat people like me. It’s that I don’t fit into their land. Our worlds just don’t co-exist with one another. When they collide, chaos breaks out. Storms rage on and crops die out. I become the crop, while they remain the storm raging on, taunting me from above, attempting to help me grow but only into the type they want.

I miss them Ella. A lot. No, that’s not true. I miss when things were good, before I realised the truth about myself and about them. Before my mother caught us that day. Before she sent me to conversion therapy. But the truth is, if those things hadn’t happened, I wouldn't have met Nick or Aaron or Sam. I wouldn’t have created my own family, and I wouldn’t have learnt everything I have. I wouldn't know that life exits beyond the land I had been watered on, beyond the world my family had grown for me. I wouldn't have realised that I can both be happy, as well as be myself.

I am not writing this letter to you to tell you that I have everything worked out, I am far from that. I still have nightmares about the institute and I still have dreams about you and what happened, what you said to me when I got out. I don’t hold those things agains you. You were doing what you had to do to survive the storm. But Ella, you need to know this; there are people out there who love you for who you are. Find those people. Let them love you and help you, and you do the same with them.

Do not apologise for who you are, and do not apologise for loving your differences; I taught myself that. And now i’m teaching you.

Yours truly,

Alexis.