#was thinking about cocktails for each character and at first i thought about Blue Moon for felix

[cuefog]

tog/khunbam fic rec

this is for @cannottranslate​ because you asked for it and i am grateful for the excuse to make a fic rec post

i expect this will be a long post so i’ll put it under read ↓ 

i’ll be leaving my own thoughts and comments under each fic (im sorry in advance for rambling too much)!! if you want the full summary and other info please click on the link provided lol

!!webtoon spoilers beware!!

♡ = one of my favourites

canon timeline

(these will be the ones that are set in the canon world and follow major plot events, even if there some changes in the details and relationships)

♡ deep sea blue by Feyren ♡

please read everything written by feyren!!!! lovely prose, wonderfully written khunbam emotional tension. khun braiding his beautiful hair accompanied by symbolism and perfectly crafted metaphor. bonus earrings.

♡ hollow moons by NoteInABottle ♡

please also read everything by noteinabottle!! equally lovely prose, wonderfully written khunbam emotional tension. khun wearing earrings and giving them to bam, accompanied by lots of symbolism and perfectly crafted metaphor. you could probably consider this a companion fic to feyren’s deep sea blue. both of these fics gave me a Thing for khun’s earrings (>_<;)``

take my hand (take my whole life too) by RadiantAshe

our dear ashe has written lots of great stuff but i think this is my favourite!! so much khunbam softness, very classic s3 vibes <33

Chestnuts at Nighttime by khunfounded (ongoing)

khun with a cat who loves him very much, and vice versa. that’s all the explanation you need. this fic overloads my heart with cute soft fluffy feelings!!! (bonus khun and bam dolls with little hands made of velcro so they can hold each other’s hands (ʘ‿ʘ✿) please i can’t take any more of this, somebody help my heart is gonna explode)

a thousand paths to you by LiannaAila

set during the time of khun’s coma. bam travels to a parallel universe and meets an alive and awake khun. this fic is exactly what it says it is and it’s so lovely <3

oh no he’s hot (and other earth-shattering revelations) by Bird_of_Dreams

tldr; bam being thirsty over khun

khun aguero agnis and his growing competency kink by chuuyaya

tldr; khun being thirsty over bam

motion by smokeandwaves (rated Explicit)

set during hell train, khunbam focused. this one is really popular in the fandom!! it’s well written, and if you consider smut a genre i would say this is the best one in the tog tag. lots of emotions, and a wonderful flow of feeling!! also it has a few sequel fics in the series, ‘obedience’ in particular being all about sub!khun,, which is,, (*ﾉωﾉ)

sometimes when i look into your eyes i pretend you're mine by agueros (minamis)

residents of the tower ship jue viole grace and khun aguero agnis and write fanfiction about them (i love these types of fics lmao)

From: Khun by AngrySheepProject  and To you who lies with my heart under the sea by Strawbellie666 (ongoing)

khun messaging bam’s pocket when he thought he was dead in s2

canon divergence + future canonverse

(future fics means it’s set in the future of the current canon, which at the nest arc rn)

♡ A World Without You by Breaking_Formation ♡

this one might be my favourite out of all of them. i know it says major character death but it happens in the beginning and there’s a promised happy ending so don’t worry!!! this one is a beautiful 20k word masterpiece.... seriously..... this fic is set after the nest arc, it has lots of Plot and plays around with the world and the lore of the Tower, so it’s already fascinating that way, but the real heart of the story is in the emotions!! if you love witnessing khun’s endless devotion to bam, this is the fic that shows you that devotion reflected right back at khun. it might bring you to tears :’)

♡ Our Hearts Are Made of Stars by Ruinous ♡ (ongoing)

out of the 5 or so other time travel au fics in the tog fandom, this one is definitely my favourite!! time travel aus are all super fun to read, but this one stood out to me especially because it hits all the right spots!! it’s written well and i love the level of foresight, and the emotions detailed into this, it really feels like the friendships and bonds are at the heart of this story and all the fighting stuff will turn out just fine, and everything will be ok :)

♡ enough by Feyren ♡

future fic, set in a cocktail party on the 87th floor. this is so well written!!!!! again, please just read everything written by feyren. the prose is wonderful and everything going on in this fic feels so well-crafted and carefully executed with just the right amount of subtlety in all the emotions. i think it’s gorgeous.

fire and ice by soundscape (ongoing)

set vaguely in the future. still ongoing, and the story feels like it’s just started, but very intriguing plot!! premise is people trying to separate khun from bam + the team trying to deal with shady fug plots

dig down deep by milkywxy (ongoing)

this one is a plotty one!! diverges from canon at the hidden floor arc. bam decides not to let rachel go with them. im super interested to see where this story goes!!

where the current leaves us by macrauchenia (ongoing)

this one is a Plotty one, still in the early stages of plot development but the premise is super interesting!! basically khun takes bam’s place in the bubble with rachel, during the administrator’s test on the 2nd floor. i’m excited to see where this story goes :D

special mentions for “bam climbs the tower” remix concept fics that you might like to check out (this is for you dango, since you said you like togverse canon divergence :D)

Moonlight by Shadow_to_rant (ongoing, khun meets bam in cave instead of rachel)

Timeless Existence by Jazebeth (Barrattiel) (ongoing, time travel au series)

Second Chance by Shadow_to_rant (ongoing, time travel au)

Never Let You Go by eternus (ongoing, time travel au)

Il Principe by euludey (ongoing, bam with different backstory/origins)

Night Never Falls by TripleTurtles (ongoing, au where rachel doesn’t succeed at pushing bam off the bubble on the 2nd floor)

Child of Arlene by MoodleNoodle (ongoing, bam is adopted by jahad before canon timeline)

au

♡ the king and his lionheart by chuuyaya ♡

khunbam royalty au with bam as king, khun as a genius war strategist. bonus pda in front of a whole courtroom. what more could you want?? this was soooo satisfying to read, i enjoyed it a lot :D (please also check out chuuyaya’s other fics if you like khunbam aus!!)

if there's anything in this life ive been waiting for (its you) by trueaguero (ongoing)

fascinating au where everyone is outside the tower and the tower is part of history. perhaps you could call this a “post-tower au” ?

if my heart was a house by The_Winged_Warrior

very cute magical fantasy au!! khun runs a potion shop and bam is an adventurer

aus are pretty self explanatory so i’ll put the rest in a list:

you are the magic in me by silverinerivers (ongoing, hogwarts au)

hope and legacy by chuuyaya (figure skating au)

♡ jump then fall (i'll catch you) by agueros (minamis) ♡ (figure skating au, consider it a prequel to ‘hope and legacy’, this is a beautiful 13k-word love letter to figure skating <3)

of social media and turtles by chuuyaya (celeb au with social media bits)

i am the last olympian by argenteas (percy jackson au)

who else is there to love but you? by khuns (college au, very soft pining!!)

Lucky coin by bothersomepotato (ongoing, college business majors au)

Greedy Turtles by Alien_ships (ongoing, on the surface it seems like just a pet shop au but there’s a lot of care and attention paid to the characters and relationship dynamics :D)

and i will come to you at every first snow by aguerobaam (khun is a magical doll in a toy store)

the heart heist by paused (ongoing, cyberpunk au)

khun special category

(it’s all about khun here)

♡ all the blue in the world won’t do, without you by NoteInABottle ♡ (ongoing)

multichapter fic set on khun eduan’s 111th floor!! if you’re too impatient to wait for the khun family arc, you should just read this fic. it’s still ongoing as of the time i made this post but it’s already looking to have all the elements i want out of a khun family arc. it’s written so so well too!! noteinabottle is one of my favourite tog authors :D

Brothers and sisters, I'm an atomic bomb by gleek_runner (ongoing series)

a wonderfully well written series of fics focusing on interactions between members of the khun family!!!! im just a sucker for the khun kids and im always starving for khun family content

He Wonders if He Still Breathes by Chocolatesandblood

khun and ran interactions!!

putting his resolve to the test. by soundscape

khun and hachuling interactions!!

Autumn Angel by XprincessxofxspadesX

khunbam meets maria and a series of complicated and fascinating interactions occurs. this was very nice to read ;w;

#trying to stop myself from regurgitating all of the fics on ao3 here #im holding back i swear #this is such a mortifyingly long post #i think i mightve went overboard #hope this is helpful #tog #khunbam #long post #mine #i'll come back and add to this occasionally maybe

[weshallc]

Thank you so much for putting up with me, I feel back in a Bernie state of mind now (I was far too chilled). Let’s see where we go from here.

BERNS NIGHT (revisited)

This has been a Poplar-on-Tweaven production brought to you by the Crown Inn and sponsored by Mount Busby Farm based on original characters from Call the Midwife.

CHAPTER FIVE: Ae Fond Kiss.

“Who Shall Say That Fortune Grieves Him. While The Star of Hope She Leaves Him?” Ae Fond Kiss, Robert Burns 1791

“I Pictured A Rainbow, You Held It In Your Hands.” The Whole of the Moon, The Waterboys 1985

Bernie grabbed Val’s arm to steady herself. Paddy stood in front of her fidgeting with the cobalt blue fabric with a wide green check overlayed with a thinner gold and black one. His fiddling pulled at the kilt pin weighing the piece of cloth down at the knee. The tiny silver dagger bearing his clan crest caught the light from the hall where Bernie remained stood stock still in the doorway.

Paddy then reached for the frilly white lace jabot fastened around his neck, pulling at the lace with one hand, as if it was choking him. The other hand straightened the black waistcoat with the three silver buttons, matching the three on the sleeves of the Montrose jacket. They in turn matched those perfectly polished down the front of both sides of the centre of that waist length black jacket.

Bernie’s dropped jaw started to quiver as a chuckle threatened to emerge. Paddy shot a look of accusation at Val who intern nipped Bernie’s arm. Her friend regained her composure.

“I told you she would think I look ridiculous,” Paddy spat at Val as if Bernie wasn’t in the room. It was however Bernie who responded as Val’s confidence appeared to waver.

“No, you don’t. It’s just a bit of a shock. I am not quite sure what’s going on.”

“We..well some people thought it might be nice to put on a Burns Supper. Like we used to...before-” Paddy started to falter as he noticed Bernie’s eyes mist over.

“For your birthday.” Piped in Val, trying to help Paddy out and regaining her confidence. “I will leave you to it, I’ve left Jack behind the bar and well he is still pretty green, if anyone asks for a cocktail we may be in danger of losing our licence.”

On Val’s departure, Bernie moved towards Paddy. The forgotten scarf Trixie had placed around her friend’s shoulders fell to the floor. Paddy bent down to pick it up.

“Oops, be careful, good job there is no-one stood behind you.”

Paddy straightened up swiftly and stroked down the back of his kilt. Bernie allowed a relief filled giggle as she saw Paddy’s frown soften. Taking the scarf from Paddy, she sighed. The pattern matched the tablecloths downstairs. “My mother’s tartan, they haven’t missed a trick, have they?”

“Trixie was most put out when her attempts to discover the Mannion tartan drew a blank.”

“Mannion is an Irish name, sorry.” Bernie wasn’t quite sure why she was apologising for her name, but it felt appropriate.

“We all know that now,” laughed Paddy.

“How did you find the Home clan tartan?”

“Violet and Evie poured over hundreds of samples and narrowed it down to a few which they matched to old photos of Wilf’s kilt. They figured that was how the wily old bugger had got round it, using your mam’s tartan.”

“Everyone has gone to so much trouble, I feel like such a fraud. I just wanted an evening alone with you in Appleby Thornton.” Bernie blushed, feeling even more guilty.

Sensing her confusion, Paddy cupped her cheeks in his hands. “We can go out any night.” 

Bernie raised an eyebrow at Paddy’s optimism. Even though Jack had turned eighteen and could now serve behind the bar, Paddy still found it difficult to let go. Most of their evenings were spent working or propping up the bar.

Any further discussion of their work-play balance would have to wait. The sound of familiar footsteps running up the stairs alerted them their presence was required in the bar. Paddy and Bernie followed Tim into a cacophony of noise, the sound of fiddle, banjo and accordion mixed with laughter and the pounding of feet on the wooden floor.

Tim grinned and nodded as Bernie asked, “Isn’t that the Bridges that come in on a Thursday night?”

“Apparently, before they were married, they used to go to Scottish dancing on Thursday nights.”

Kevin and the Tweaven Folk band sounded like a group of musicians who were enjoying a successful long awaited reunion, rather than strangers that had only met a few days ago. Apparently Kevin didn’t just play the Bagpipes but was going to town on the harmonica.  Mac had found refuge in Reggie and had settled on a bench seat with the dog's head resting on the lad’s lap.

Alan Bridges and his wife Yvonne broke from each other and flew off in different directions to persuade, grab and drag the people sitting at the tables onto the makeshift dance floor. Fred was up first, taking hold of Vi who had pushed her nose out of the kitchen to sneak a peek at the fun. She protested, explaining she couldn’t leave her post, but Evie chased her onto the dance floor with a tea towel.

Bernie smiled at Patsy and Delia. She had never seen anyone quick step to the Gay Gordons before. Phyllis’ face was flushed as she tried to stay in time, partnered by a very light on her feet Lucille. Bernie grinned as Paddy dug his son in the ribs and Tim scowled, shaking his head in protest. Her smugness was short-lived when Alan Bridges took hold of her hand and dragged her onto the floor. She groaned to herself, realising she should have seen it coming. But she knew she wasn’t the only one who had been distracted and let their guard down. As Alan swung her around, she glimpsed a determined Yvonne pulling a very reluctant Paddy to the centre of the room. A massive cheer went up, and it wasn’t for his dancing prowess, but the first view of the crowd of Paddy in his Highland Dress.

Bernie couldn’t deny she felt a tingle as the lights dimmed and Paddy stood behind the tressel table. She could see how nervous he was, his thumb working against the forefinger of his left hand, the right hand turning over his phone on the table. Voices were hushed, sensing a level of anticipation in the air. She hoped he could see her reassuring smile. When he returned her wink she knew he understood.

Everyone instinctively got to their feet as the sound of the pipes flooded the room. Kevin slowly marched into the bar from the kitchen playing, Mac following at his feet, ears pricked. A few steps behind walked Violet, beaming proudly, carrying a silver tray with her pride and joy in prime position. She placed the dish in front of a very pale but focused landlord. Bernie noticed Vi gently touch Paddy’s hand after she had laid down her burden.

Paddy cleared his throat, and everyone sat. Bernie held her breath, she was relieved when he started reading from his phone in his own soft Northern English twang and didn't attempt a Scottish accent. He did struggle a little with more than the odd word and she noticed it was in parts an English translation of Burns’s Address to a Haggis. She did think her dad would be shaking his head and laughing if he was watching these antics held in his memory. As a shiver left her, she wondered if Marianne was also looking down with pride and amusement.

Bernie bit her lip. This was the difficult bit, if trying to read a 18th century Scottish poem out loud wasn’t hard enough. She knew from years of experience Paddy had to keep reciting while removing the Sgian-dubh from his woolly knee-length socks. He then had to pull the small dagger out of its black leather holder and plunge the blade into the Haggis at just the right moment in the text. She went to hold on to her chair but was surprised when a long thin hand grabbed hers. Tim’s hand was cold, but sweaty at the same time, and she squeezed it back.

The verbal response of the audience to Paddy whipping the blade out of its sheath made Bernie giggle, and she heard a snort from her neighbour. The following stab and slash into the unsuspecting pudding received equal responses of gasps and murmurs. She felt the boy’s hand slacken in her own and his breath released from his chest at the same time she let her lungs relax. Bernie felt Paddy was doing the same, pausing as the crowd regained its collective composure. He dared to give her a quick glance, and she beamed in approval. She wished she could go over to him and push back the wayward kink of hair that had fallen over his face during the dramatics.

Paddy finished the poem with ease following the tricky bit. He didn’t seem to mind stumbling over some of the unfamiliar words. It wasn’t like anyone was going to correct him. There was much relief all around when he finally toasted the Haggis, and everyone could raise the complimentary whisky they had been nursing since the beginning of the festivities. Not everyone had been patient and some found they were toasting with an empty glass, supping air. A nervous Bernie would have been included in this number, but Trixie had passed on her dram so she could at least properly take part in the toast. Paddy received a standing ovation. He wasn’t deceived it was for his faultless performance, but more for effort or maybe they were just hungry and glad it was finally over.

The assembled guests ate their fill of Scottish Fayre. The whisky sauce may have proved more popular than the spicy offal and oatmeal pudding. Although Violet did remark that Poplar’s vegan population had seemed to increase dramatically overnight. Buckle’s Breweries Burns Bernie Beers proved very popular. Ale Fond Kiss, Red Red Rose Ruby Ale and Auld Lang Stout all sold out.

The dancing recommenced to the Tweaven Folk band and its newest member. The Bridges and the lead singer tried to engineer a ceilidh of sorts. This resulted in a room full of mostly English people flinging themselves and each other about in an attempt at the longest communal twizzy world record. The highlight being every time Paddy spun around in his kilt, a large cheer went up as it splayed out.

Eventually he refused to dance and Bernie gave up too. She found him outside smoking one of her roll-ups. She just grinned, knowing he deserved one. Bernie hugged Trixie’s scarf around her.

“Aren’t you cold in...erm that?”

Paddy smoothed the kilt under him, between his bare legs and the cool wood of Peggy and Frank’s memorial bench. Bernie grinned and went back indoors.

She returned with two Abhainn Dearg malt whiskies and one of the tartan tablecloths. She wrapped it around Paddy’s shoulders before perching herself on his chilly knees, flipping his sporran up out of the way. Paddy took over the blanket duties and wrapped the cover round her.

Cold fingers fumbled over sharing the dying cigarette and they sipped from the same whisky tumbler. From where she had placed them, Bernie could only reach one glass without leaving the warmth of the tablecloth and Paddy’s arms. Paddy had long since dispensed with the faffy lace ruff and wore a cream open neck Jacobite shirt, again courtesy of connections of Patsy. As Bernie playfully twisted the string ties around the fingers of one hand. She slowly ran the fingers of her other hand along the hem of the kilt.

“Is this Turner tartan, then?”

“No, the Turners are from Liverpool, probably some Irish in there somewhere too, but my mother’s family hailed from Fife.” Paddy softly answered.

Bernie wriggled on his knee, trying to gain a bunch of the fabric of the kilt in her hand, as the band broke into Deacon Blue’s, Dignity.

“So which clan...ayyyyyeah!” She quickly jumped up vigorously rubbing the flesh between her boot and the hem of her dress on her right thigh. Paddy stared at her in confusion and concern.

“Something bit me.”

“It’s January.”

“Am I bleeding, is there a bump?” Bernie turned her back to Paddy and lifted up her skirt. Paddy started to wonder whose birthday it was. He used his phone as a torch and took his time giving a thorough examination of her right thigh. The eventual diagnosis was no injury to her person, but there was a nasty snag in her new-on tights.

Paddy also identified the culprit pointing to the clan dagger attached to the front of his kilt. “I think you sat on this?”

“You stabbed me.”

“You stabbed you.”

She leant down and carefully unfastened the pin from the front apron of the kilt. She recovered her position now free from hazards. Scrutinising the tiny weapon in her hands under the light of Paddy’s phone,

“Aww, the crest is the world below a rainbow between two clouds. What does the motto say?”

“At Spes Infracta.”

“Oooh, you're getting the hang of these ancient tongues, aren’t you?” Bernie giggled, “what does it mean in boring old English?”

Paddy, who had been laughing with her, fell serious.

“It means Yet My Hope is Unbroken.” He gently tipped her chin forward with his thumb and forefinger and kissed her.

“That’s beautiful.” Bernie caught her breath. “What was your mam’s maiden name?”

“Hope.”

“Home and Hope,” smiled Bernie, partly to herself.

Paddy reached inside his sporran and handed Bernie a small tartan box with a gold bow on top.

“But this was my present.” She smiled, pulling on his shirt strings.

Paddy shone his phone torch on the box as Bernie opened it and carefully took out a silver brooch. She got hold of Paddy’s hand and shone it on a silver V bending inwards to make the shape of a heart with an emerald at the base just below the Home clan crest.

“That is a very fierce looking lion, why am I not surprised.” Bernie didn’t need the torch to see the glint in Paddy’s eye as he spoke. “I nearly got you the Hope rainbow one instead....but I wasn’t sure.”

Bernie smiled, “Maybe next year?”

“You are still very presumptuous after all these years. This was a one night only kinda thing,” Paddy choked, then swiftly changing the subject, “I liked the motto on the Hume crest, anyway.”

Bernie was impressed with his correct Scottish pronunciation of Home. She read aloud the words around the lion's head A Home, A Home, A Home, that is the slogan, but the motto is actually True To The End .”

“Well, I think the matriarchy has it tonight.”

“Do you know Robbie Burns was a great supporter of women's rights as well as being a romantic? He wrote a poem about it.”

“From what I’ve heard, he was very fond of women indeed. Counting the number of children he fathered.”

“Yes, that as well,” muttered Bernie, “but just for tonight I am going to be Shelagh Bernadette Mannion-Home and you can be Patrick Turner-Hope.

The traditional music of the Corries was now interspersed with more recent Scottish poetry, as the band played tunes by the likes of Travis and Franz Ferdinand. The Proclaimers, I’m Gonna Be 500 miles, filtered through the door leading to the beer garden. The accompanying laughter, the sound of leather and man-made sole stomping on polished oak convinced the two in the beer garden they weren’t being missed.

“One thing I can’t get my head around is how Val convinced you to do this?”

“She just reminded me of every time you have stepped out of your comfort zone for me. How many times you have had to embrace a part of yourself that you didn’t know existed or had thought you had left behind.”

Bernie rubbed her thumb over the slogan on her new brooch as Paddy continued.

“Basically how many times you have put me, us, our hope of a life, a home together before the person who you thought you were and believed yourself to be.”

“Val said that?”

“Sort of, maybe a bit more colourful and there was some violence involved, but I did agree with the sentiment.”

“I think our mams would have approved of Val.”

“Are you true to the end, Shelagh Bernadette?”

“Well, you just better hope this isn’t the end, Patrick.”

The sounds of Auld Lang Syne filled the night and Paddy leaned forward for another kiss, suddenly aware Bernie had very cold hands and had chosen not to replace the kilt pin.

#call the midwife #berns night revisited #to be continued #soon hopefully #home and hope #bless them

[winterknight1087]

Flower from the Fae (ch 16)

Chapter Title:  Remy, Say Hello to Oblivious's Dates

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 1677

Chapter Warnings: cursing, Remus (mention), Deceit (mention)

Chapter Pairings: (growing) Romantic LAMP, platonic Sleep/Virgil

AO3 Link      My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 16, so read the first chapter here! 

“Come here,” Virgil said to Galaxy.

She moved over and was moved to the other worktable. She happily started trying to eat a leaf while Virgil looked over a plant he was worried about. It was Halloween, he could be out looking at decorations or helping Remy and Emile prepare their house for the party. But instead, he was here carefully looking over a dead plant. It was the fourth plant to spontaneously die in the past week. Well, at least it distracted him from the things worrying his ever-anxious mind. But what if it’s true…

“Whoa! It’s so pretty in here!”

Virgil spun, accidentally knocking the plant onto the ground as he turned to see who broke in. Standing there were Logan, Patton, and Roman, all dressed as fairies. Roman was the same as the first night Virgil had met him: prince costume with red wings. Logan had dark blue wings while wearing a navy waistcoat, pretty much like some 18th-century royal advisor would wear. Patton had on a long silvery-blue dress, matching the same time period as Logan’s but he had a soft sky-blue pair of wings.

“What the hell!” Virgil gasped.

“You called out ‘come in’ after we knocked?” Roman answered, confused.

Virgil leaned against his worktable, trying to regulate his breathing. “Only thing I’ve said in the past hour was come here to Gala. I didn’t even hear a knock.”

“Oh, sorry Vee!” Patton said.

“Bitch, you better not be ruining your costume, playing with dirt!”

Taking a deep breath, Virgil rolled his eyes as Remy burst into the greenhouse. Not even aware of doing so, Logan put himself in front of Roman and Patton, feeling the sandman’s energy slam into him. Looks like they were right about Virgil having a sandman for a friend.

“Gurl, that is not what the costume we got you. It was a perfect pick, gurl!”

Virgil snorted, “Pick? I had a choice? I remember distinctly saying that the only way I was wearing the dress you picked as a costume would be if you bought it. I said I wanted to be a vampire, but noooo, you insisted I be a witch.”

“And I bought it for you, along with other cute accessories. You were a vampire last year. Be glad I stopped Emile from doing another group costume. Now, go put the outfit on!”

Virgil rolled his eyes as he moved over to a pot being heated by three heaters. He carefully picked it up and poured the hot water into his thermos and setting a tea bag inside. He had set it up, thinking he’d be able to finish it before people showed up at his place, but he decided to just sip it on the way to the diner instead. The four beings watched in shock as he moved about.

“Bitch, are you actually using the cauldron I got you? I mean, it is usable, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d use it?”

“I don’t have anything else to heat water with right now.”

“Why?”

“Remus.”

Remy made a face. “Alright, say no more.”

“Uh, what?” Patton asked.

“Just use your imagination. The worst thing you can think of is usually tamer for this rat. Now, Anx, are you going to introduce your company?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Remy, this is Patton, Roman, and Logan. Pat, Lo, Ro, this is Remy.”

“Bitch, tonight I’m Crowley! Even you know Good Omens, gurl.”

Virgil looked over Remy, noting only small differences from their normal outfits. “Really? I thought you were my Fairy God-Bitch”

“Bitch, that’s my job the other 355 days of the year. Tonight, I’m Crowley.”

“Sure, good luck with that. I’ll go throw my costume on. Don’t kill each other. Galaxy is still too young to watch murder.”

The four of them glanced at the tiny kitten trying to clean her paw. While they were distracted, Virgil slipped through the door leading into the house and went to his bedroom to change. He scowled at the dress. It wasn’t a bad costume, but he really wasn’t comfortable dressing like a witch right now. Don’t think of it right now, Anx. Still, he pulled it on and went to finish his make-up. He couldn’t think of a good enough reason, even for himself, not to wear the costume. It was just an uneasy feeling about it. But…

There was an awkward tension in the greenhouse. Remy ignored the three fairies as they wiped the cauldron dry and started filling it with a small hand warmer under some bedding and herbs. With that, they summoned some sand to rub around the cauldron before harshly knocking on it, only to hear nothing. That should keep the cauldron fairly quiet for the kitten during the party.

Once they were sure it would be comfortable, they pulled out a set of kitten-sized wings and a purple bow from their pocket. They carefully placed them on the kitten, cooing at how well behaved she was and how cute she looked. They kissed the precious kitten before placing her into the comfy cauldron. Gala stared up at them, just two blue eyes staring out from the void. Remy huffed, amused. Black cats were the cutest.

Logan cleared his throat. “So…”

Remy glanced at them, pleased to see they were at least a little nervous. “I have no interest in fighting but if you lot hurt Virgil, I will not rest until you have suffered. He is basically my little brother by now and I take my job as older sibling seriously, even if it is self-appointed roles. Clear?”

“We have no intention of hurting him either,” Roman answered calmly.

“If I may ask, were you the one to send him the box of information?” Logan asked, cautiously. “And if so, why?”

“I was in on the idea,” Remy answered, watching them carefully. “And his powers are starting to develop. I can tell you three have your own plan on trying to get through his oblivious mind. What is it.”

Patton shifted uncomfortably. “We were going to tell him the truth. We want to ask if he wants to join us as our witch.”

“You lot have his name, so why haven’t you forced him into it?”

“Only Patton received his name. First name. For something like that, we would need his full name to force him into it.” Logan answered.

Remy relaxed against the table. “I wish you lot luck with that. I’ve known that boy since he was thirteen. Even my fabulous fifteen-year-old self couldn’t get that out of him. Which, I assume means you lot need his voluntary acceptance to go around the name complication. He isn’t going to take the information kindly, I can tell you right now. We’ve been taking it slow since he got this kitten and we still haven’t even addressed that magic is real.”

“So, is he really just that oblivious then?” Patton asked, softly.

“Only towards magic-related stuff.”

Roman stared at Remy suspiciously. “Why are you being so open with this information, Sandman?”

“I really wish there was some accepted gender-neutral of sandman. Like Sandbeing. There are women who do this job. There are non-binary beings who do this job.” Remy commented before looking at the prince in the eyes. “I’m giving you this information so all of us are on the same page. We all care about Virgil and so if I can share something that keeps you three from accidentally hurting him, I will spill. I expect the same in kind from you lot. Our people can hate each other as much as they want, even if Sandmen are the most neutral in that fight. I don’t care about them. I care about my dumbass best friend who has too big a heart and too much untapped magic now revealing itself to the world for his own good.”

“Mew!”

“Thanks for having a gurl’s back, Galaxy.” Remy looked at the fairy in navy. “I assume you’re Logan. Meaning you’re the one who discussed fairies with him. Anything you want to spill?”

“Uh… No? Maybe ask you how you’ve not strangled him for his obliviousness, but otherwise no.” Logan answered, awkwardly.

“Gurl, you just earned a good place in my book.” Remy laughed.

“I am not a girl. Why do you keep using that? Please do not refer to me as a girl.”

“Boi, I call everyone, but those who prefer not to be called gurl, gurl” Remy immediately switched. “Still, Dee and I have been asking that same question for years.”

“Great, lots of help, thanks.” Logan deadpanned.

“Now, on to a different topic.” Remy turned to the prince. “Gurl, why in the name of every Gucci fashionista goddess out there are you in such drab clothing?”

“Excuse me, but my outfit is amazing, unlike your rags.”

“Bitch, I’m at least dressed as a TV show character. Did your personal clothing-designer take a day off on Halloween? At least those two look like traditional fairies.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I expected anything different.”

The four of them turned to look at Virgil. He had a black cocktail dress on with a rich violet corset tied with silver ribbon right in the middle of it. Trailing from all but the exact front of the corset was the same shade of violet, flowing material that would look a bit like a cloak as Virgil walked. The sleeves were a see-through black material that had silver protection runes stitched into them. His black pointed hat had a purple band around it with a silver flower rather than a buckle. Remy was pleased that he had included the long necklace with a crescent moon. He didn’t have the black platform heels Remy tried forcing on him, but rather slip on black flats.

“Wow,” three love-struck voice whispered.

“See, gurl. I told you they’d love it. I know what looks good on my babes.” Remy said proudly. “Now, let’s head to dinner. Dee and Emile should have finally convinced Remus to put pants on by now.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #remus mention #deceit mention #tw cursing #LAMP #Sage writes

[vipclifford]

Beaches and Flowers

You laid on one of the pale wooden beach chairs the hotel provided, eyes closed, facing the hot Hawaiian sun. The distant chatter of the boys around you dissipated into the sound of the waves slapping the tan sand as they crashed against the shore, slowly relaxing you to into a light slumber. This was interrupted by the feeling of a light object landing on your stomach. You opened your eyes to investigate, a silly smile taking over your features once you saw it was a rose. You rubbed your eyes lightly, holding it carefully in your hand even though it had been stripped of its thorns, and admired the deep red colour it possessed. Luke’s expression matched your own as he watched you from the deck chair adjacent to yours, sipping on the cocktail he had just bought.

“Why the rose?” you asked a few seconds later, sitting up and turning your body towards Luke. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly with a smile, grasping your free hand to press soft kisses to your knuckles.

“Because I love you.”

Your felt your face heat up at his words, even though you had heard them countless of times over the years you’d been together. They never failed to make you feel happy. He never failed to make you feel happy. You tugged lightly on his hand to bring your boyfriend closer to you, an ‘I love you too’ being whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. The sweet moment was ruined by the sounds of Michael’s fake retching, making Luke roll his eyes as he pulled away from you. He kicked some sand towards his friend, the rest of the group laughing at the scene. You heard Luke scoff as Michael complained about how ‘by the time I get all this fucking sand off of me it’ll be time for the next trip to the beach,’ although he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Go annoy your wife,” Luke muttered, letting go of your hand to run his fingers through his dirty blonde curls, moving them out of his eyes. Michael snorted at this.

“She left to go on a walk with Ashton because I was being too annoying,” he snickered, bringing the almost empty beer bottle to his lips. You laughed softly as Luke made a couple side comments about how he ‘wasn’t surprised’ and how he felt ‘sorry for Crystal,’ reverting your attention back to the flower as you twirled it between your fingers.

You placed it on the beach chair before standing up, ruffling Luke’s hair to regain his attention once their small quarrel had died down. The smile made its way back onto his face as he looked up at you, hands instinctively gripping your hips as your arms fell around his shoulders. He stood up suddenly, lifting you up with him before he started sprinting towards the turquoise ocean. All you could hear were Luke’s joyful laughs as you screamed his name, holding onto him tightly, squeals interrupted by your own laughs. He pressed his lips to yours before letting the two of you fall forwards, the kiss becoming salty once you submerged beneath the crystalline water.

“You’re a dickhead,” you said between soft chuckles, wiping the cold droplets out of your eyes before splashing him. Luke gasped at this with an incredulous look in his eyes, attacking back with the liquid artillery as you engaged in a splashing war.

The two of you stopped eventually, the water fight turning into a lengthy conversation about your anecdotes over the years. You talked about the first time you went to the beach together in Santa Monica, early on in your relationship. That date was filled with soft smiles and nervous kisses that tasted of candy floss from the pier. He told you about how a part of him was still slightly bitter about not having been in Bali when Michael proposed to Crystal all those years ago, before he even met you, making you chuckle as you realised just how long he’s been harbouring this small resentment. You told him stories about your childhood trips to the beach, letting him learn of that one time you were stung by a jellyfish and just how much it hurt. He told you about when he and his brothers tried to learn to surf, but gave up after seeing the size of the waves the second they arrived at the beach. You told him about how in your eyes no holiday could ever compare to the beaches of the Caribbean, a lifelong dream of yours being fulfilled the day Luke took you to see turquoise waters for the first time in Cuba. Luke shrugged his shoulders with a small smile, telling you that there was still time for this trip to become one of your favourites.

A couple days later, you had all decided to visit the pools of Oheo. You admired how the waterfalls cascaded into the natural pools creating a beautiful white foam, fizzing out into the smooth water. You admired the tall trees of the rainforest surrounding the area, tall and green and full of life. You admired the man with hair like sunshine as he sat on the edge of the dark rocks, back turned towards you while he talked to a few of his friends. They all quietened down as you approached them.

“Hey you,” Luke smiled as you sat down beside him, “I was looking for you. I got you something.” He grinned, making your eyebrows shoot up in intrigue. He asked you to close your eyes, and you felt how he tucked a flower behind your ear. You began to chuckle softly, opening your eyes again to see his blue ones filled with confusion. “What?”

“I’ve gotten you something too,” you laughed, exposing the plumeria you had hidden behind your back.

“You two really are made for each other, huh?” Calum interrupted with a chuckle as he watched you tuck the flower behind Luke’s ear, the two of you laughing at the chances of that happening. “That was some proper soulmate shit. I reckon even your cycles are synchronised.” The two of you tittered at his words while you wrapped your arms around Luke’s shoulders, hugging him close.

“We’re just so in love, you know?” you joked, pressing soft kisses to his rosy cheeks, freckled and sun kissed. You let out a small giggle as he eventually turned his head so that your lips would land on his, his arms snaking around your waist.

“Then you’ve got to hook me up with tips for Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Can’t have my girl hate me for somehow messing it up three years in a row,” confessed Calum, looking around to see if she was anywhere near enough for her to hear their conversation. You pursed your lips as you thought of a few words of advice for the bassist.

“I think that by now, you should probably be aware of what your girlfriend likes and doesn’t, you know?” Luke laughed, Calum playfully punching his arm as he told him to ‘shut the fuck up.’

“Luke and I don’t really do much. Just don’t be over the top, it’s too unnatural. And absolutely no proposals if that’s what you had in mind.” The two men shared a nervous look at your words, making you roll your eyes at Calum. “I can’t believe you’d ever even think about proposing on Valentine’s Day. It’s the biggest cliché and you know better than that,” you ranted, yet you couldn’t stop the excited smile from taking over your features.

You had known Calum for years, and you were there to see the start of his relationship with her, watching it blossom over time into the deep and meaningful connection you knew he thought he’d never experience. You were happy for Calum, for finding someone he adored enough to vow to keep loving for the rest of their time on Earth together.

“Okay, okay,” he said with a soft chuckle, telling you to calm down with hand motions. “None of that tomorrow night.”

The next night Luke took you to a Mexican place, latin music blasting loudly through the speakers. You loved how the rumbas and vallenatos set the tone for the establishment. Fun and happy. You loved the burrito you ate alongside the fancy cocktails that made you feel buzzed. You loved when he stood up suddenly, hand outstretched to lead you to the dance floor. You loved dancing to the upbeat songs, arms thrown around Luke’s shoulders while his hands grabbed your hips. You loved pulling his face to yours and kissing him like there was nobody else in the room. You loved the way your dress inflated as he spun you on the dance floor. You loved seeing the biggest grin on his lips as you both danced stupidly without a care in the world. You loved the flower he stole from one of the vases on the tables just for you.

You went for a walk down the beach after that, hands interlaced while the other held your shoes by the heels. The feeling of the soft sand sinking with every step you took was lovely, accompanied by the cold water every few seconds. The air was warm as it ran through your hair. You leaned your head against his arm, watching the moon while he told you stories. These were some of your favourite moments. Late night talks with Luke.

“Do you ever regret dating me?” he asks suddenly, catching you off guard. You came to a sudden halt, tugging on your intertwined hands to make him face you and elaborate further. “I know you love me and that, but, I meant being with someone in the public eye. Do you ever regret dating someone famous?” You could see the anxiety in his eyes when he briefly looked down at you, as well as feel it in his bones. This was so out of character for the usually confident man standing before you.

“No?” You asked, confused as to where this was coming from. “I could never regret being with you, Luke. You’re the man that’s been there with me through it all. The one who’s taught me what it’s like to be loved and to be in love,” he chuckled lightly at the One Direction reference, refusing still to meet your eyes as you softly rubbed his knuckles. “Why? Do you regret dating someone who’s unknown?”

“Don’t ever even think that,” he rushed out as he vigorously shook his head in hopes you’d believe him. You offered him a tight-lipped smile, squeezing his hands. “I’ve never been more sure about anyone, or anything, in my whole life. I love you so much,” he assured you with a nervous grin, letting go of your hands to make you wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re just – perfect, you know? I know that I’m the luckiest man on Earth because you’re the one who taught me love, you taught me patience, how you handle the pain of dealing with me every single day?” It was your turn to chuckle as his reference to Ariana Grande, softly singing ‘that shit’s amazing.’ He smiled widely at your words, wrapping his hands around your waist to pull you closer. “I just – I wanted to make sure you were one hundred percent certain about us. Don’t ever doubt my love for you.”

“Don’t ever doubt my love for you,” you told him before pressing your lips to his. Luke kissed you slowly, gently pouring out all of his emotions into the kiss. His hands were soft and delicate as they pressed your chest against his. You grinned at his lovesick smile after pulling away.

“I love you,” your boyfriend said so only you could hear, before suddenly getting down on one knee in front of you. You took a step back in surprise as you realised what was happening, hands flying up to your mouth after he opened up the small velvet box. The diamond ring glowed in the moonlight, and you couldn’t help the tears that cascaded down your cheeks as you let him take your left hand in his right.

“Before you say anything, my love, it’s officially the 15th of February, so you can’t get annoyed at me later for being a cliché,” he jokingly warned, making you chuckle through the tears. “I love you so much. I feel so sorry for everyone around me because they’ll never get to be with someone as amazing as you. Hell, I’m not even worthy enough of being with you. But for some reason you picked me. Still haven’t really figured out why, nor how to compensate your charitable act of kindness, but I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you. I can make you the happiest person in the world. If you’ll let me.” He grinned up at you after taking the ring out of the box with a shaky hand, his nerves evident despite his cool voice. “Marry me. Make me the happiest man alive.”

“Yes,” you told Luke, breaking the short silence, and you could visible see his anxiety get replaced by a smile as bright as starlight as he slid the silver ring onto your fourth finger. He stood up to kiss you passionately, one hand on your cheek while the other stayed intertwined with your left hand. You pulled away as you laughed softly at yourself, unable to stop the tears from flowing as you kept wiping them away. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. You were so unsubtle.”

“Subtle enough, Mrs. Hemmings,” he grinned, hands on your cheeks to brush away your tears. Happy ones, he hoped. You smiled wide before pulling his face back towards yours to kiss his lips.

Neither of you had ever been happier.

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[twistednuns]

February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).      

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

#things i love #present perfect #personal #february 2020 #february #2020

[mwritesink]

A mumble mumble of thoughts about Fire Emblem Three Houses

Right. So I’ve completed all four routes of three houses and I have thoughts. 

I mean, big thought is that I love the game considering that I went right back in and started another play through of Blue Lions. and sooner or later I’ll pick back up my written let’s play but not right now because I’m over extended as it is and playing three houses has been both a solace from my own over extension and a perpetuator of it. 

Anyway

This is not meant to be a well thought out essay, it’s just my thoughts and not really going in for debate because that way only lies me being depressed. 

I like all the routes, each has their strengths and weaknesses and I find the writing overall, while not galaxy brained good, is pretty damned good, and it does an interesting turn with making sure that no route gives you the full picture of the world of Fodlan. You have to play the entire game to scratch the surface of the truth, and even then players still have to cobble together what the facts actually are. The only characters that have all the cards are Rhea and the Agarthans. Rhea keeps hers fairly close to the chest, letting out one or two if there is no other choice, but the Agarthans have more cards than Rhea and are willing to play the ones that enhance their worldview.  

yes there are flaws in the writing and it isn’t as tight as one might hope for being able to tie up it’s loose ends and keep the plot as internally consistent as it would need for having, essentially, four AUs stacked on top of each other. The weaknesses of the writing fall largely on the plot and it’s treatment of who exactly are the antagonists and the motivations therein. 

I really like Edelgard, and I really like Rhea. However, the writing does a disservice to both of them. for the first half of the game, Rhea is set up to be a smiling antagonist. You have Jeralt being openly suspicious of her, you have Seteth questioning her decisions and being summarily shot down without answers, you have a noted instance of the church executing a person for an incident unrealted to the church and without trial (yes mitigating circumstances that are only found out through supports), you have the Lonato incident where raising an army (of civilians by all implications) merits the death of both him and the civilians (yes he intended to use that army to attack the central church and yes there is definitely an argument that she only marshals the church as a reaction to a threat). Nothing in the School Phase is set up to have a player trust Rhea at first blush. But in the second half, when she’s not there, the writing does an about face to say that no, really, you should have been trusting her the whole time. Except in Crimson Flower where she becomes the spiritual/end game antagonist. 

Yes I know she has her reasons for being shady and keeping her secrets close and the truth of the world closer, but it doesn’t change the about face re: trust the game gives her. 

Now for Edelgard. Edelgard is in a tough place writing wise. One the one hand, she’s the Big Red Emperor/physical antagonist on Silver Snow and Verdant Wind, and both the spiritual and physical antagonist in Azure Moon. On the other, she’s the protagonist of her own route, the face of the game’s advertising, and the speaker of the game’s theme. I believe the writing really did her dirty. They try to pull her in too many directions at the same time, so her motivations, tactics, and ideals all get thrown into a cocktail shaker that never pours out the same drink twice. It then becomes very easy for fans to take their selected drink and run with it, while not considering the other drinks made, or what all those drinks together might make. It doesn’t help that, of the three lords, Edelgard’s development as a character, and the impacts of her rule, are most impacted by the presence and absence of other people at her side. (Ex. If Petra dies, there is no independence for Brigid. Ex. the changes rendered by Byleth being present or absent) 

(Though… does that mean if you don’t recruit Petra in non Black Eagles Runs Brigid becomes a vassal state of united Fodlan no matter what?)

 Moving on. 

There are some interesting culture clash that happens in the writing where assumptions have been made by the writers that don’t translate to non-Japanese audiences. I commented a couple times to my friends that I found it weird that the students you don’t teach call you “professor” or “teach”, and that it was probably evidence of the fact that the player might have changed Byleth’s name. This comment was generally accepted until my GF reminded me that the Japanese high schools work by having the teachers go around to all classes even if they’re also in charge of homeroom for a particular class. For all it’s western trappings and influences, the Officer’s Academy is very much a Japanese highschool, down to the differences in how the named students personalize their uniforms across gender lines. However, the game itself fails to get this across, as it only shows Byleth teaching their chosen house and interacting with students outside their house only on weekends. This then is also how Edelgard comes off as being very weirdly attached to Byelth when Byleth chooses one of the other houses. But if Byleth is teaching all classes and is just special homeroom teacher for one of them, then it makes more sense. 

In any case, cultural assumptions aside, the school phase and training options were one of the things that I went into the game with the most trepidation about, but after playing it’s one of the more fun aspects to plot and plan what classes I’m going to give people and how to get there. The New Game+ features are also turning into a boon for my idea of Bolt Axe Annette as a Gremory (just need to get her to Gremory… and get a Bolt Axe for her). I don’t think I would like the training aspect if they did it again in a future fire emblem game, but as a one off “here’s a feature specifically for Fire Emblem Three Houses” it works. 

I mentioned Byleth earlier, and I gotta say, of the character writing, which on the whole is fairly strong, their writing is one that sits the least well with me. My assumptions for this is that it had to do with the fact that Byleth is an avatar character, with a limited amount of customization, especially compared to Robin and Corrin, so they made up for it by writing as much of a blank slate character as possible so the player could superimpose a personality of their choosing.  It makes sense in game play, giving the plot mandated dye job, but it feels weird to have such a pivotal character who cannot express their own opinions in a meaningful way. I wish Byleth was a fully fleshed out character rather than a player stand in, and it would make the growth we are told they go through more impactful and meaningful. Potentially the writing wouldn’t need to change much, aside from Byleth being able to make definitive statements about anything without being interrupted, and letting Byleth fight for their point of view instead of it being dismissed out of hand by other characters. 

Also, can you imagine the hilarity of comedic straight man Dedue educating Comedic straight person Byleth on the basics of gardening, because as a mercenary Byleth would have never had the time? Can you imaging support conversations where you can really tackle what being raised a mercenary with no context of what the Church of Seiros is? 

And so I roll into my last point: Missed opportunities. 

For as much as I like large swaths of the writing, I feel like there’s been a lot of missed opportunities that could have been expanded on but weren’t, and so there’s a lot of what if’s that float about. As an example, I don’t particularly like Raphael, but that’s because I wish his supports did more than revolve around “Raphael eats and because he’s eating doesn’t hear what people are saying to him, and this results in friendship”. There is a lot that you can do with a big cheerful guy who’s in it to protect his sister and his friends that is more than a gimmick, and for Raphael in particular, I think it would do a lot for him to have more writing like how he got in his paralogue with Ignatz, where he can see an issue, knows there’s an issue, but decides to handle it in his own way, even if that way is one the player and his friends might disagree with so he can keep on being the big cheerful guy. 

There are more examples from that, and missed connections, and places where a Support that only goes up to B could have been strengthened with a potential A support. 

In the end, I love this game, I don’t mind replaying it over and over again, cause each time I’ve noticed something different and been able to try something new which alters my playstyle (trying to get Wyvern Master Dedue! Wish me luck in overcoming that red arrow next to flying). And I’ll likely go back to it for years to come.

#fire emblem #three houses

[we-be-writing-bts-stuff]

The Alley

 Pairing: ???????

Plot: Where a girl’s irrational fears aren’t so irrational.

Warnings: Blood, violence, drinking. It’s vampires. 

Genre: Horror with some fluff.

Word Count: 2688

A/N: This is revamped from what was previously up. I have added to it and hope you all enjoy. It’s also experimental since I don’t name any of the characters. The characters were based on BTS members so go in thinking that and I’m sure you’ll know who I have where since I use their more identifiable traits. ~Bagel

The wind cut through her coat as she walked down the street while the rain clattered on the pavement around her feet. The short black cocktail dress she was wearing doing nothing to keep her warm and her coat soaked through by now. Making it nearly useless in this weather but it was still better than nothing. She looked up for a few seconds to make sure she was still going the right way and not going to run into anything. She heaves a sigh of relief when she sees no one around her. It was well past midnight and the only thing piercing through the darkness was the street lamps overhead. The fear and darkness causing her to jump at any given sound or movement she saw in the corner of her eye. Most had to be just figments of her imagination and tricks of the light or the stray animals that were trying to find shelter from the rain, but that didn’t help her nerves. Still jumping at every little thing as she continues down the last few blocks.

You’re just imagining things. Keep looking forward. You’ll be home soon enough. She chants in her head. Even though it would do almost nothing to ease her nerves.

She stops walking once she reaches the unlit alley. The blackness bleeding through to the street and seemingly swallowing anything that came near it. Her mind starts to run rampant with the possibilities of what lurks within. She gathers her courage and takes a deep breath, quickly running across to the other side. Her heels clacking loudly on the cement and the air in her lungs release when she’s past the darkness. Taking a minute to regain herself before she continues to her apartment building only a few blocks away. Swearing she felt eyes watching her after she passed that alley, not daring to look back in case she was right.

_____________

It was the next day when the news started to flash pictures of that same alley and the body found there. Its blood being drained, and shoulder torn apart. Causing her to panic further and become more paranoid. Getting to the point that she avoids the alley completely. Even if it takes longer to get home each and every day from work. Not going out as late as she normally does on the weekends or going home alone. Mostly making friends or coworkers walk with her to the building if she had to pass the alley. She was always thankful and appreciative of them doing so. Even going as far as trying to find a new apartment, but nothing was within walking distance of her work and still in her budget.

She would soon relax and feel more comfortable over the weeks and months. Whether it was from having others with her or becoming more accustomed with the alley, so the threat didn’t seem so overwhelming, she wasn’t sure. Or it could be that there were no more incidents in all of that time, but all she knew was that there was less anxiety with the alley when there were people. 

_____________

She soon meets a happy boy that lives down the hallway from her. He has a boxy smile and constantly changes his hair. Dying it to random colors that cause her to smile and the days to become brighter. She soon learns his name and talks with him every chance she gets. Soon spending more and more time with him. Going on dates and building a good relationship, having shared giggles and kisses, hushed words and stolen glances. He treats her like a queen and gives her everything she could need or want. She feels bad and tells him as such, and yet he still gifts her things just on a smaller scale and less frequent to make her feel better. Soon getting couples jewelry of gold and gemstones. He avoids wearing silver, claiming that he had an allergy to it. His skin reacting and resulting in a rash that wouldn’t go away for days.

She saw this first hand when she wore a silver bracelet her mom gave her. His hand touching the chain and causing him to lurch back. 

He lets his hair grow out because an off-hand comment where she said she liked longer hair on him. Letting it grow long enough to flop around when he shook his head. Putting it in several small ponytails to make her laugh. He would do anything to make her happy and see her smile. Even if it meant that he was acting like a fool and acting like an idiot.

The only weird thing was that he rarely ate or drank around her. Always deflecting it by saying he wasn’t hungry or that he already ate. Wrapping his arms around her and placing a kiss on the top of her head. She didn’t question it too much, since they didn’t live together, and she wasn’t around him all of the time. She assumed that he just ate when they were apart which was often. He very well could be telling the truth and she trusted him. There was no reason for her to feel otherwise or doubt him. He did nothing but make her smile and do everything that he could for her.

_____________

More time went on and they fell more in love. He helped to distract her from the dark alley and the fears that came from her irrational mind. He made up fantastical stories that she would just laugh off while listening with a close ear as they walked by. Distracting her from the noises and assuring her that her fears were unfounded. Even pulling her into it once to give her a secret kiss or two. Showing and proving that good things could happen in the dark as well as bad things. The moonlight shining through and painting his silhouette in silver and shadows. Smiling and reaching up, she wraps her arms around his neck. Pulling him down for more affection. 

_____________

The secret meetings become more and more public. Soon they officially start to date, and the alley becomes an afterthought. The darkness nothing more than to provide a small reminder of the childish thoughts of what lies within. The monsters and ghouls that hide there are nothing more than a distant memory. Everything he does is only to prove her wrong of those worries after meeting him. The night soon becoming her safe haven. The only time where she could relax with the gangly and happy boy that she was falling in love with. The one she let down her guard and walls for. The one that was seeing the most authentic version of herself.

Sharing more giggles and kisses, love and dreams. Sharing all of the time she could before the sun would rise and they would both have to leave each other for the 9 to 5 grind that they both had to endure to keep what they have and to enjoy the time they had away from it.  

_____________

It’s been almost a year since the body was found. No one was arrested for the murder. In fact, the whole crime was forgotten by the public within the first month. No one talked about it anymore. It even got pushed back to the back of her mind after all this time. 

The boy that was now her boyfriend waving her off and kissing her goodbye this morning. Talking about how he needed to get a haircut and re-dye the roots to the blondish brown he had currently since he had the day off. She bid him farewell and got through the work day. Coming home only for a few moments to change and fix her makeup before leaving to go see some of her friends. Have some fun and let loose to start off the weekend. 

__________________

She drank a little too much and was a little too careless. Walking home for the first time in a while alone and in front of the alley that still caused a small pit to form in her stomach. But tonight, she didn’t care. Ignoring the feeling that she made a bad decision by being alone. It was a celebration and she was happy. She had several drinks and dinner with a few of her friends.  The alcohol causing a nice buzz to run through her veins. She left the restaurant before the sun even fully set. Brilliant oranges and reds and pinks painting the sky as she walked home from the party.

She didn’t hear the shuffling of someone behind her. She didn’t see the movement in the corner of her eye. Clouds start to form overhead and darken the day into the night as the sun dips below the buildings and horizon. Hiding the Sun or the Moon from shining their light onto her path. She didn’t notice or have a care in the world when a man came up to her. Only giggling and saying goodbye to the boy on the other end of the call. Finally jumping when a hand falls onto her shoulder once she hung up and the line went silent. She turns around and sees a handsome man smiling at her. Hair perfectly styled and dyed an unnatural grey, but still looked good against his pale complexion. His eyes a piercing blue and she smiles along with him. His dimples showing through to her. She feels a strange pull towards him and a sense of calm falling over her. Something she didn’t feel around anyone, but the man that she loved.

“I’m sorry to be a bother, but can you help me find this hotel. I think I’m lost.” His voice washes over her and she smiles back. It was rough and low. A comforting lilt to it that brought her in.

“Um sure. Where do you need to go?” She giggles back. Taking in his sharp features and nearly perfect set of teeth. His eyes seem to flash to a red but are back to normal in a second. Maybe it was just my imagination. She thinks to herself. Smile barely faltering.

“Well it's the Marriott. I would really appreciate if you helped to guide me there.” He pleas. She feels a shiver run down her spine. Something telling her to run far away from him, but the alcohol and societal conditioning of always being nice planting her to her spot and making the decision for her to help the man that was slowly making her feel more and more uneasy. 

“That’s quite a ways away from here. Let’s see. Um…. I believe if you go down the street this way and then turn right until you reach 6th. And then you want….” He chuckles and grabs the hand she was gesturing with to help explain the way he needed to go. The words coming out in a slight slur and she was swaying in her spot. 

“I’m bad with directions. It would be easier for you just to show me.” He presses. Smile ever present and looking behind him. She looks around and sees no one else on the street. She tries to pull away her hand. His grip only tightens around her and pulls her closer. Pleading with his eyes for her to come. She suddenly wishes she didn’t stop and engage with him. Or least bring her pepper spray. Looking around for a quick way out. 

“I’m sorry, but I need to get going.” She tells him once more. “I have someone waiting for me,” yanking her arm away once more only for his gaze to harden and his true colors to show. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” He hisses. Clamping his free hand on her mouth and pulling her into him. Dragging her into the alley as his hold becomes nearly unbearable as it tightens around her. His now elongated canines glint with the gentle moonlight. The clouds clearing for long enough for her to notice the change. Eyes shining an inhuman blood red instead of the initial chocolate brown. Tearing into her shoulder and starting to draw the life from her. She fights as much as she can. Causing more damage to herself than the attacker. Her nails seemingly just an annoyance to him rather than a hindrance as she tears at his clothes and skin. Red angry marks being left on the skin she catches, but he doesn’t even flinch when she eventually breaks the skin. 

He lets up on the initial bite only to sink his teeth in once again at her neck. This time in a messier and more frenzied fashion. His long nails easily separating the flesh of her arms and torso. Doing what he can to stop her from moving. Something scares him off sooner than he wanted. Leaving her still semi-conscious and able to think on the event as the blood continues to flow. Staining the ground around her as the freshly started rain starts to wash it away. The ebb and flow of the darkness surrounding her vision and soon falling around her.

___________

She lays there on the ground. Not knowing how long she’s been there. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Rain falling and the wind howling almost exactly like that night that feels like a lifetime ago. Bleeding profusely and although she knew she should be in pain, all that she felt was a cold numbness at this point. Idly thinking if someone would find her. Will I be on the news like that other body long ago? Would people ever find who did this? Will anyone come and look for me? She muses in the dark. Her mind an eerie calm and thinking surprisingly clear after everything that has happened. Looking next to her she couldn’t help but laugh bitterly when she saw an ominous figure walk into the blackness that surrounded her. All of her fears being reaffirmed. The night only a year ago flashes into her mind along with the event that caused her to be in this position. Finding it ironic that her worst fear was coming to life while she was laying there helplessly. “Just make it stop.” She tells the black figure. Looking up to it with pleading eyes. The closer the shadow gets the easier it is to see and make out what it is. A tall male with shaggy sandy brown hair and familiar chocolate brown eyes. He seemed like a giant from her position on the ground. The name of her lover playing on the tip of her lips.

“I’ll help you.” A deep and smooth voice says. It seems familiar and comforting like the eyes, but she is unable to pinpoint where she knows it. Brain too hazy from the blood loss and previous pain to function right. She’s just barely able to realize that the voice belongs to the stranger that is now looming over her. He picks her up and walks farther into the dreaded black once more. Only grunting when he shifts and presses on the wound. She starts to feel colder and more distant. Almost as if she’s watching everything happening and not experiencing. “It’ll get better. I’m sorry.” That’s the last thing that she hears before feeling a set of sharp canines digging into the delicate skin of her wrist. Giving out one last cry before her sight goes black for the last time. Fully welcoming the darkness for the first time. Hearing the male’s deep voice talking to her as she fully fades. Sitting and waiting for her heartbeat to fade into almost nothing before sneaking back into the apartment. Making it seem as if she was only sleeping to any people that may see the two of them. The coat he wore out to find her covering the majority of the gore. Only to wait for her eyes to reopen. Hoping that she understands what happens and that he made the right decision. Having to kill her to save her from the darkness that she was so terrified of.

#vampire bts #horror #fluff #bts

[iowaskablog-blog]

Iowaska and self-healing

As well as I was actually certainly not prepped for what took place. iowaska transformed my lifestyle upside down, diffusing the wall surface in between my personal as well as the planet. I viewed what I required to observe when I was actually all set to observe it.

It's my rely on consume. Right stuff is actually vicious, like a mug of electric motor oil weakened along with a dash of water. I toss it back like a discharge of low-cost whiskey.

It is actually 30 or even 40 mins after the 1st cocktail, as well as presently my feelings are actually swamped. Every opportunity I open my eyes, the area around me begins to close, kind of like what Einstein illustrates in his concept of relativity.

The competent companies that led the services advise that you start along with a basic demand: Program me that I have actually come to be.

Unexpectedly the superstars begin to rotate in a right path. For main reasons that leave me, I begin hollering at the moon, claiming over as well as over once again, "Is actually there anybody up there?

There are actually numerous methods to hit the reality of non-selfhood. Consider it as a mountain range top, along with meditators and also specific metaphysical heritages rising various edges. Hallucinogens supply a type of faster way; you acquire a glance of the greater fact without all those years of major, regimented technique.

The inquiry signifies that at some factor you shed your own self, that when you were actually a little one, your spirit was actually true, open, untainted through lifestyle. You begin to determine on your own through outside criteria.

It is actually today 5:15 pm, as well as the 1st service begins in 15 mins. I am actually fairly certain I will not as if the response-- just about no one performs, it seems to be.

For the remainder of the evening, perhaps yet another 3 hrs or two, I rest there thinking of exactly how self-centered I usually am actually, and also regarding the meaning of the serpents. The emotion was actually thus strong that I began to sob. (Edge keep in mind: Individuals burst into tears a whole lot on iowaska.).

SUDDENLY, ANDREA POSSESSES 40 OR fifty YELLOWISH SNAKES GUSHING AWAY FROM HER ORAL CAVITY As Well As INTO MINE. I spin onto my appropriate edge as well as find Andrea, a girl coming from Toronto, battling to puke. Brad, the company, had actually stated the Peruvian and also Columbian groups that utilize iowaska view removing-- puking, looseness of the bowels, weeping, chuckling, and also sleeping-- as a necessity of the recuperation the medicine carries. When you expunge, you are actually eliminating all the spitefulness-- the tension, the stress and anxieties, the concerns, the remorses, the disgust, the self-loathing.

Today, the herbal tea is actually possessing a little an instant.

I am actually certainly not worried about due to the notion of handling her discomfort; it is actually the entire untamed culture-- the serpents, the nausea or vomiting, the sights. I can not detail any one of it, and also however it was actually one of the most real take in of my lifestyle.

I take my initial cocktail around 7:30 pm, though I can not understand for certain since phones as well as electronic devices are actually stopped as quickly as you go into the air travel deck. My purpose coincides as it was actually the opening night: Program me that I have actually come to be.

It had not been till 1908 that Western side researchers accepted its own presence; English naturalist Richard Spruce was actually the initial to research it as well as blog about the "removing" it appeals to. He was actually generally thinking about categorizing the creeping plants and also leaves behind that composed the magic mixture, and also in knowing its own task in Amazonian society.

RIGHT STUFF Is Actually NASTY, LIKE A MUG OF ELECTRIC MOTOR OIL WATERED DOWN ALONG WITH A SPRINKLE OF WATER. Just about every person listed below is actually carrying out iowaska for the 1st opportunity, as well as our team are actually all afraid shitless. They declare the very first telephone call to consume, as well as I create my means to the face of the line.

Our experts belong to a surge of Westerners seeking iowaska as a resource for mental recovery, private development, or even broadening awareness.

Evening 1: hate. The technique at this sanctuary facility, gotten in touch with Rythmia, is actually comprehensive. Throughout the day they indulge you along with all the deluxes of a health refuge-- massage therapies, excitable dirt bathtubs, health food, doing yoga courses, colonic cleanses. At evening, you consume iowaska and also placed on your own with psychological as well as bodily heck.

An iowaska boom iowaska stays an edge mental medication, yet it is actually little by little functioning its own technique right into the mainstream. Till relatively just recently, you must take a trip to South The United States if you wished to trying out the vegetation, now iowaska services are actually turning up in the USA and also Europe.

It is actually cooler tonight, however there is actually a warm and comfortable doddle spinning by means of the area. A lot of individuals around me are actually doodling final details in their publications; others are actually resting stoically expecting the initial telephone call.

It is actually 2 am, as well as it is actually opportunity to finalize the service.

I strike on the very first cushion I observe; it is actually near the door and also merely a couple of feets coming from the washroom. I really feel risk-free below.

It goes, for what experiences like a hr or even 2. I maintain launching those pair of concerns at the paradises yet acquire no responses, no understandings, only muteness and also rotating.

When I eventually hurled on the 4th evening, I really felt a strange feeling of satisfaction.

iowaska subjects the space in between that you believe you are actually as well as that you really are actually. In my scenario, the void was actually huge, and also the discomfort of finding it for the very first time was actually virtually excruciating.

Beat article writers like William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, and also Port Kerouac all explained their encounters along with iowaska, many notoriously in Burroughs's publication The Yage Characters. All of this assisted take iowaska in to Western side society, yet it was actually certainly never really promoted.

I end up throwing up and also begin weeping as well as chuckling as well as grinning simultaneously. One thing has actually been actually elevated within this "cleanup," one thing dim and also strong I was actually holding around for several years. Alleviation cleans over me, and also I gradually create my back to my bed on the flooring.

Brad informs our team to permit go and also give up. "Do not deal with the medication," he states. "Only listen closely.".

Some of the very first thing I was actually said to is actually that I needed to get in the iowaska event along with a crystal clear target or even inquiry in thoughts: What perform you wish to discover on your own?

ASSOCIATED.

Aboriginal folks in nations like Colombia and also Peru have actually been actually making the compound for hundreds of years, usually for spiritual or even metaphysical objectives. It is actually thought about a medication, a means to cure interior cuts and also reconnect along with attribute.

Famous Personalities like Lindsay Lohan, Sting, as well as Chelsea User have actually mentioned their take ins from it. "I possessed all these gorgeous photos of my childhood years as well as me as well as my sis having a good laugh on a kayak, plus all these lovely factors along with me and also my sibling," User said to the New york city Message after her 1st iowaska journey. "It was actually quite concerning opening my thoughts to caring my sis, as well as certainly not being actually thus hard on her."

Tonight is going to be actually various. I am actually mosting likely to remain in the minute, stick with my breathing spell, as well as observe what takes place.

Buddhists, intellectual researchers, as well as thinkers have actually all created influential disagreements that there is actually absolutely nothing like a "set personal," no thinker responsible for our notions, no doer responsible for our actions. There is actually merely awareness and also urgent adventure; whatever else is actually the outcome of the thoughts forecasting in to recent or even the future.

For 4 successive evenings, a team of 78 people listed here at a hideaway facility in Costa Rica have actually been actually consuming alcohol a foul-tasting, molasses-like herbal tea consisting of iowaska, a vegetation compound which contains the organic hallucinogen referred to as DMT.

It is actually poorly ignited, and also beds are actually edged up on the flooring versus the wall surfaces. At the feet of each bed is actually a barrel of bathroom newspaper and also a blue or even reddish pail.

I rest back down, barrel onto my remaining shoulder, and also am actually swamped along with a definite information for the remainder of the evening: It is actually certainly not regarding you! Andrea's ache as well as suffering-- the serpents-- had actually entered me, which was actually the entire aspect.

I stroll back within as well as failure in my mattress. For the remainder of the evening, I envision occasional eyesights of mathematical bodies, a handful of flashes of illumination, yet that has to do with it. One of the associates begins to sound a mild alarm.

I make an effort to rub my skin yet can not order the cells newspaper considering that it thaws whenever I grab it. Close by, a guy begins to yell. I can not create what he is actually claiming therefore the medicine man vocal singing gorgeous Colombian tracks in the various other space.

One means to leave this snare, I wish, is actually to receive the heck out of my scalp.

ONE TECHNIQUE TO LEAVE THIS CATCH, I WISH, Is Actually TO OBTAIN THE HECK OUT OF MY SCALP. I have actually attempted practicing meditation, as well as I am actually awful at it. My thoughts is actually a march of inharmonious notions, and also as an end result, I am actually hardly ever found-- in chats, during the course of mind-calming exercise, in everyday lifestyle.

The company is actually Brad, a kind, strongly basted man coming from Indianapolis that was actually learnt iowaska through a group in Peru. The companies participate in a significant job each evening, despite the fact that there isn't a lot personalized communication. They established the shade, quick guide the event, detail where the medication stemmed from and also just how it operates, and also they aid individuals that require it throughout the evening.

The interesting, unusual clinical possibility of hallucinogens, revealed in fifty+ researches. What I was actually seeking. My enthusiasm in iowaska specified: I would like to traverse the impression of selfhood. Psychedelics possess a technique of taking down our mental barricades. You believe linked into one thing greater than your own self, as well as-- momentarily, a minimum of-- the feeling of splitting up disappears.

The following time, Andrea informs me that she certainly never took care of to expunge yet that her nausea or vomiting immediately faded away, after which she wandered right into a serene half-sleep. I do not understand if that developed around the moment I viewed those serpents, however the notion of it maintained me up that evening.

I go outside, stroll around a little bit, experience my feets in the yard. They declare a telephone call for the 2nd alcoholic beverage. If you may listen to the telephone call, if you may relocate your physical body, you consume.

The clinical proof on iowaska is actually restricted, yet it is actually understood to trigger held back moments in means that make it possible for individuals to happen to a brand new understanding of their past times. In some scenarios, it assists folks function by means of minds of upsetting activities, which is actually why neuroscientists are actually starting to examine iowaska as a procedure for anxiety and also POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER.

Inside the loud, suffocating event space, folks were actually chuckling, shedding tears, shouting, circling, as well as, yes, puking, around me. When my opportunity lastly arrives, I presume: Only go for the container as well as maintain your butt over your head like the medicine man informed you.

DO I REALLY DESIRE TO FIND WHAT I possess END UP BEING? I are actually RATHER CERTAIN I WOCERTAINLY NOT LIKE THE RESPONSE. There is actually absolutely nothing brand new concerning these tips, however they hit me as accurate just the same. I choose to concentrate on self-discovery.

That faster way is what I sought.

Evening 2: "Do not battle the medication". The following time I discover why I possessed no terrific discoveries on the initial evening. As quickly as I presumed one thing-- everything-- was actually regarding to occur, I made an effort to presume on my own out of the take in.

Our experts are actually coached to stay up and also raid the wall structure after the 1st mug. The herbal tea takes at the very least half an hour to function its own means with the physical body. I rest gently for forty five mins, possibly a hr, and after that I rest on my cushion and also hang around.

Prior to I understand it, they bring in the phone call for a 2nd cocktail. "Do not believe, consume alcohol," I maintain informing on my own.

Due to the fact that you are actually aware, given that it is actually like one thing to be you, it is actually incredibly quick and easy to strongly believe that a wall structure exists in between your thoughts as well as the globe. If you are actually experiencing one thing, after that there need to be actually a "you" carrying out the experiencing.

Concerning 30 moments pass, as well as I begin to experience ... weird. I can easily view different colors, designs, as well as switching shades on the wall surface.

And also after that I am actually promptly wrenched along with the worst queasiness I have actually ever before experienced. I can not obtain it out. I keep on my legs for yet another 5 or even 10 moments standing by for one thing to occur.

Evening 4: the absolute most truthful looking glass you'll ever before find I recognized the 4th evening would certainly be actually harsh when I found the iowaska mixture (each evening it is actually a somewhat various dish coming from a various people or even location or even practice). It was actually therefore solid and also oily that you could not consume it. Rather, you needed to compel it down like insert.

I desire to go back to Costa Rica, and also certainly not for the factors you could anticipate. Fail to remember regarding the iowaska, neglect regarding the exotic views, overlook concerning all that. Every individual appears straight at you, and also you seem straight back.

I see my whole entire lifestyle unfold as though it were actually forecasted on a flick display. It had not been my entire lifestyle; it was actually every deception, every imitation posture, every overlooked option to claim or even carry out one thing real, every incorrect shuck and jive and also fawning action, every useless try to be actually found in a particular illumination.

I maintain assuming regarding this tip that an evening of iowaska is actually like a years of treatment. Perform you spend a cost for taking this kind of faster way?

The feature reel is actually way longer than I thought of.

I find on my own creating my identification based upon what I believed would certainly excite other individuals. On it went-- one insignificant show after one more developing a rockpile of fraud.

I am actually certainly not in my mind, consequently points may not be occurring to me; they are actually only occurring. It is actually most likely way too much to state that my vanity was actually gone-- I do not believe it operates like that. Finding on my own coming from a various standpoint delivered an odds to reassert management over it.

Folks point out that a singular iowaska vacation feels like a many years of treatment stuffed in to an evening. That is actually most likely a tall talk, yet it is actually certainly not entirely incorrect. In 4 evenings, I seem like I relinquish a life-time's well worth of temper and also anger.

I find on my own in higher college claiming to be actually one thing I was actually certainly not, as well as I find all the uncertainties stacking up inside me. I view all the opportunities I self-censored totally out of worry of opinion.

I OBSERVE Just How Much OPPORTUNITY I LOST, The Amount Of AFFECTION I CONCEALED This last service is actually longer than the remainder. Commonly, our team collect around 5:30 pm as well as surface through 1 or even 2 am actually. This moment our experts come across around 7:30 pm and also do not end up till daybreak the following time.

"I do not recognize," I state. Everybody, he thinks, is actually happening back, either listed here or even to some various other location like this. I am actually still refining what occurred; the thought and feelings of the following "travel" have not also happened to me.

I do not recognize what lifestyle will certainly feel like in 6 months or even a year, yet I assume iowaska was actually the best factor that has actually occurred to my relationship. It had not been concerning ending up being a far better individual; it concerned enjoying the function my better half-- as well as various other connections-- play in my lifestyle. I needed to leave my scalp to observe that.

The setting switches and also I am actually drifting in what I think is actually a type of primitive soup. I assume I am actually a shaking bit right now, and also strand idea instantly makes good sense in a manner I can not clarify.

And also after that I view her lifestyle-- it is actually certainly not very like a flick; it is actually additional like a collection of showing off eyesights that are actually only crystal clear sufficient to sound. I observe exactly how tough it was actually for her to possess me at Twenty years aged, and also exactly how little bit of I will assumed regarding that.

Once I have actually possessed time to think of it, I would certainly mention iowaska is actually the most ideal as well as worst trait I have actually ever before carried out. I devoted a full week looking down all my bullshit plus all my instabilities, and also it was actually completely liberating. It was actually likewise scary as well as certainly not one thing I prefer-- or even need to have-- to view once more.

The expertise created me knowledgeable of just how commonly our company all perform this. No one yearns for to bring in eye connect with, as well as many of the opportunity individuals go mad out if you actually attempt. Our company are actually assuming regarding what our experts'll point out following or even exactly how our experts are actually being actually viewed.

Evening 3: creating affection to my other half for the very first time-- once again I am actually midway by means of this factor, consequently much it is actually not what I counted on. I still have not needed to face my past times in the means I foreseed I will.

Abby begins to vocalize tracks referred to as icaros, which are actually conducted in iowaska services throughout the Amazon.com. A restful takes over me, as well as I begin to grin as well as laugh.

Just before I may answer, there is actually the very first phone call to consume alcohol. The mixture is actually more thick tonight, as well as it samples like wax as well as white vinegar.

I inquired my partner yesterday if I seem to be various to her after the vacation. She stated that she regularly thought that she must compel me to supply my interest, specifically in those silent, easy instants, and also currently I offer it openly. I carry out locate it much easier to listen closely because I returned, and also it is actually incredible what a distinction that can easily create.

True lifestyle isn't appreciate that. I use the Region to function each day, and also recently I have actually attempted speaking with arbitrary folks. It is actually a whole lot more challenging than you presume.

The significance of the previous pair of evenings is actually more clear right now. I possessed to experience again those short lived seconds of union to view what created all of them therefore pre-eminent.

What currently? Back then of the creating, I have actually been actually home 3 full weeks. The euphoria I really felt in the times instantly after the journey has actually stopped as I have actually slid back in to my normal lifestyle. A pressure has actually developed that I still do not pretty recognize.

I BEGIN TO OBSERVE EVERY INSTANT OF OUR PARTNERSHIP Through Which SHE CONNECTED TO ME AND ALSO I SKIPPED IT I toss back onto my best edge, and also quickly I find my other half's skin. I experience the 1st opportunity our team created affection. I may find our bikes responsible for our company, the water in front end of our company, the covering below our team, and also the lawn all around our team.

The alarms begin to sound, and also it is actually opportunity to shut the service.

The time after I leave behind the sanctuary facility around 11 perform Sunday to panel a shuttle bus to the airport terminal. Along with me are actually 3 individuals coming from my team.

Abby starts through informing our company that tonight has to do with the womanly feeling. "It is actually a festivity of development," she points out, "of childbirth as well as revitalization." The concept is actually comforting.

I hit up a talk along with the fella upcoming to me. "My entire identification is actually connected up in that," he states, as well as "I do not really want that any longer."

I view on my own embeded my very own mind, my very own ideas, my very own instincts. As well as I view the dissatisfaction on her skin. I find her view me skip a chance to reconnect.

I observe her as well as my daddy, in an university condo, questioning what the heck they are actually heading to carry out upcoming. I recognize exactly how fucking alarmed I would certainly possess remained in that place at that grow older. A surge of sympathy cleans over me; whatever cynicisms I was actually hanging on to slope.

Today is actually various. Short conflicts along with unknown people like that are actually positive; the clumsiness is actually gone.

I observe on my own certainly not appearing in to the eyes of the individual I am actually chatting to due to the fact that I am actually participating in out all the techniques they may be actually determining me. I find on my own making believe like my hair had not been decreasing years back and also all the opportunities I made an effort to conceal it.

All the pose ruins any type of odds for a legitimate relationship.

IN 4 EVENINGS, I SEEM LIKE I RELEASE A LIFE-TIME'S WORTH OF TEMPER As Well As ANGER Our company reach out to the airport terminal, state our bye-byes, and also at that point component methods. I am actually standing up in pipe hanging around to go by means of customizeds, and also I am actually shocked at just how unwinded I am actually.

Mitra palms me my very first mug, and also I recede to my cushion. I presume it is actually perhaps half a hr prior to I get on what I may merely refer to as the absolute most brilliant crystal clear desire.

I felt these points to be actually impressions prior to I took iowaska, as well as currently I am actually particular that they are actually. What carries out that in fact imply in everyday lifestyle?

And also the globe is actually an unhappy area total of lonesome folks. In my scenario, psychedelics created that a little bit of less complicated.

I assume he is actually in his mid-30s, though I can not remember. He is actually acquired this stuporous appeal on this skin, like he only found The lord.

The medicine man, an Israeli guy called Mitra, reckons our team that it was actually a 5,000-year-old dish derived from among the earliest Amazonian groups in Colombia, where Mitra was actually qualified. He is actually high, along with a cut scalp and also a guaranteed temperament. He seems like he can debunk the universes as well as douse a baseball all at once.

I must keep in mind just how uncomfortable it is actually to view your own self coming from outdoors your own self. Many of our team may not be truthful along with our own selves regarding that our team are actually and also why our experts perform what our company carry out. To observe it therefore precisely for the very first time hurts.

The 3rd event is actually led through pair of girls. The company is actually Abby, a younger, silently reliable female coming from Cincinnati that is actually supported through Kat coming from Montana. Each proficiented in Peru.

I experience all those minutes once again, and also this opportunity I observe on my own carry out or even claim what I must possess carried out or even mentioned. I observe just how a lot opportunity I squandered, just how a lot passion I kept.

Also after taking what is actually probably one of the most strong ego-dissolving medication in the world, I still reside in a globe that enhances the tale of me constantly. There is actually no quick and easy technique around everything.

He merely stooped, placed his palm on my mind, as well as pointed out, "Satisfied birthday celebration."

I have actually invested years creating a noble initiative to stay away from uncomfortable substitutions, so I receive it. I am actually frankly fretted that in a handful of full weeks or even months, I'll be actually that individual once more. As well as in retrospection, this entire adventure will certainly think that a quick holiday season of recognition.

I am actually weeping once more, this time around also louder, as well as the countenance my skin is actually thus significant that my mouth injured the following time. As well as I deal with just how I am actually heading to take a look at my partner when I return home, as well as exactly how she'll recognize I am actually observing her-- definitely observing her-- for the very first time across once more.

When the event eventually finished, I stayed up in my mattress and also beginning jotting keep in minds to on my own. Prior to I could possibly complete, Mitra approached me and also inquired just how I was actually performing. I attempted to reveal what took place, however I could not.

The routine of day-to-day lifestyle experiences a lot less harsh. I definitely perform locate it much easier to find what is actually in face of me.

The sensation, I visualize, isn't considerably various coming from what progressed meditators experience when their feeling of personal fades away. You just possess no recognition of everything yet your body system as well as the second.

After that the sight transforms darker.

The telephone call for a 2nd alcoholic beverage happens. I consume alcohol, stroll outside, and afterwards go straight back to mattress.

PERFORM YOU PAY FOR A RATE FOR TAKING THIS SORT OF FASTER WAY? A guy rested throughout coming from me the various other time putting on a Tulane hat (coming from the educational institution in New Orleans). I utilized to stay in the place, so I appeared at him till he appeared back, thinking I would certainly attack up a chat.

I find her requesting me to go to a mind-calming exercise training class, as well as I drop. I view her inquire me to go dance at a program near our house, as well as I enjoy on my own mindlessly drop.

A concern worth inquiring: If you checked into the globe's very most straightforward looking glass, what would certainly you observe?

#iowaska #ayahuasca #yage #caapi #self care #self healing #self awakening

[shimmershaewrites]

Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 14 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).

Title:  Waltzing's for Dreamers

Rating: PG? 

Warnings: a little bit of language, some innuendo, consumption of alcohol. 

Characters/Pairings:  Carol/Daryl, Michonne, Lori Grimes, mention of Andrea Harrison, Philp Blake, Rick Grimes, mention of Shane Walsh, Jerry, Nabila, Carl Grimes, Sophia Peletier. 

 Posting this one in a hurry because I should have been in bed an hour ago, lol.  Hopefully, there aren't too many typos.

      Waltzing’s for Dreamers

  Almost a year and a half after Vegas. 

      King County Café is packed.  Literally teeming with holiday revelers and families old and young enjoying a Friday night out, tables and bodies pressed in so tight the frazzled but friendly waitresses look like they’re walking tightropes through the hubbub as they take and deliver orders. 

  By comparison, their claimed corner booth is quiet and Carol can’t help feeling a tiny irrational twinge of guilt.  Can’t help feeling like a thankless thief because they’re here celebrating her.  Lori and Michonne.  Andrea was supposed to be here, too, but she’s been working tirelessly since she joined Woodbury and Associates and Carol can’t hold that against her because she knows her friend wants to make a difference.  Knows she’s convinced that’s exactly what she’s doing, Michonne’s oft muttered reservations aside. 

  “I’m telling you right now.  That place?  That man?  As corrupt as they come.” 

  Lori frowns, sinks back in her seat because their friend is talking with her hands again and the more agitated she becomes, the more wildly the barbecue drenched rib she’s holding loosely between her fingers waves.  Like a drunken conductor’s baton, it moves up and down.  Back and forth and Lori’s brown eyes warily track its movements even as she makes a curious inquiry.  “How do you figure?” 

  Michonne merely lifts one of her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug.  Vaguely answers, “Just a feeling.” 

  Lori accepts her response easily enough, stirring the ice in her drink with her straw and biting her lip.  “Maybe he’s a serial killer.” 

  Carol groans softly into her cupped hands.  “The serial killer thing again?  Michonne, tell her she’s being ridiculous.” 

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Michonne deadpans.  A beat later, she says, “The man’s shady as fuck.  There’s no maybes about it.” 

  Soda promptly spews from Carol’s mouth.  Flies across the table and does what the rib, thus far, miraculously has not:  hits Lori square in the face.  “Oh my God.  Lori, I’m so…I’m so...”  It’s all she can manage before she threatens to dissolve into girlish laughter, Michonne already sniggering beside her, her shoulders shaking with the effort to hold it in.  Both of them lose the doomed battle when the forgotten rib is launched across the table.  Skittering like a stone across a glass smooth pond and landing in some poor dumbfounded kid’s basket of fries a table away. 

  Lori snorts into the checkered table cloth she’s mopping her face dry with.  Uses it to hide her grin as she wisely hails their waitress for the check and she’s still smiling as they carefully pick their way to the front, single file with hands clasped as soon as the bill’s settled.  Spill out onto the sidewalk tittering like a bunch of school girls. 

  It’s a fanciful thought.  One that lingers with Carol as she allows them to pull her past Shrugg’s and toward the bar, the sign outside boasting of Christmas specials like Candy Cane Cocktails and Grinch Spritzers.  Before she knows it, her blood is buzzing with the combination of chocolate, Kahlua, and vodka and she feels warm and festive.  Loose and chatty while she watches her friends try to one up each other with the Santa shots that keep showing up at their table, her thoughts a little fuzzy but still able to focus on one distinct topic.  Which is more than she can say for either Lori or Michonne at this point.  “Got everything crossed off on Carl’s Christmas list?” 

  Lori slaps her latest shot glass down and shakes her head.  “His list only has two things on it.”

  Michonne’s brows pull together in a frown.  “That’s good, right?  Wasn’t it two pages long last year?  What does he want?” 

   “A Wii.” 

  “Oh.” 

  “Yeah, oh.  They’re sold out.  Rick’s looked everywhere.” 

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Michonne snorts as she lifts another shot glass to her lips, “but I’m not so sure Rick could find his own ass if his nose was buried in it.  His man Shane…” 

  Carol nudges Michonne’s foot with her own, cuts her off before all of her uncensored thoughts can trip right off her tongue and burrow right underneath Lori’s skin.  Blurts out a question she hopes will distract them before their happy little train skids off the tracks and their night out on the town is ruined.  “What’s the other thing?” 

  It’s Lori’s turn to frown.  Her brown eyes overly bright in the dim room.  “What other thing?”

  “You said there were two things on Carl’s list,” Carol reminds her softly.  “What’s the other thing?” 

  Lori blows out a frustrated breath before responding.  “A puppy.” 

  “Damn,” Michonne whistles.  “Sounds like Carl’s shit out of luck.” 

  Far from being offended, Lori actually seems to agree and her lips twitch into a bit of a rueful, tipsy smile.  “You can’t flush a puppy down the toilet.” 

  Michonne nods her head sagely, the off-color comment apparently making perfect sense in her alcohol-soaked brain.  “The kid still hasn’t passed obedience training.  It’s probably for the best.”  Picking up her forgotten White Christmas Mojito, she takes a sip.  “So.  Carol.” 

  Carol winces and lifts her drink back to her lips.  “I don’t like that look.” 

  “My look?  This isn’t about my look,” Michonne smirks.  “This is about your look and Lady, let me tell you.  You look happy.” 

  “I am.”  Carol squeezes Lori’s hand when she slides it across the table to cover her own.  “Happier than I’ve been in a long while.”

  “And I’m glad for it,” Michonne says.  “But I wasn’t finished.  Not yet.  As I was saying, you look happy.  And horny.” 

  Her cheeks flaming even as they dimple beneath her helpless smile, she sputters out a denial.  “I’m not…it’s just…is it hot in here?  I think, yeah.  I think I’m going to step out.  Get some fresh air.”  Shoving her chair back, she stands on legs that feel slightly unsteady.  Stumbles away but not before catching the rest of Michonne’s laughing prediction. 

  “…she gets home, she’s going to do Dixon six ways to Sunday.” 

  Their night out doesn’t last long after that. 

  Rick shows up in his squad car.  Packs them all in the back.  Promises that Michonne is going to safely sleep it off on his and Lori’s couch when he drops Carol off at home.  Offers his own congratulations on her first semester completed with a smile before saying his goodnights and U-turning in Jerry and Nabila’s driveway. 

  For a moment, Carol just admires the soft pretty glow of the twinkle lights and the shimmering outline of the tree in the window.  Breathes in the crisp December air and the possibilities she hasn’t allowed herself to believe in for so very long.  She lingers there under the glittering carpet of stars.  Soaks in that happy feeling until her feet start moving of their own volition and carry her inside.  And what she sees there?  Well, she’ll keep that picture on her cell phone for years.  Open it up and stare at it with a wistful smile whenever her heart feels heavy and longs to go back in time.  But this night?  This night she toes off her shoes and pads toward the couch in her socked feet.  Tiptoes to keep from waking them because it’s a picture that shouldn’t be disturbed.  Too bad her husband sleeps with one eye open. 

  “Hey,” Daryl croaks as he blinks awake.  Tries to tunnel a hand through his hair only to stop short. 

  Tinkling laughter spills from Carol’s lips when he realizes the error of his ways.  Tries to yank the hair ties free of his bangs.  Attempts to scrub his sleeve over the sparkly eye shadow that positively makes his blue eyes pop, all without jostling her baby girl awake.  “Love the new look.” 

  He gives up at that and drops his head back against the cushions.  Curls his arm tighter around Sophia when she whimpers in her sleep and grunts out a laugh.  “Never gonna let this one go, are you?” 

  Carefully crawling onto the couch beside him, she tucks herself beneath the protective wing of his other arm.  Feathers gentle fingers across the furrows in her little girl’s forehead until they smooth away and drops a kiss to his collarbone.  “Nope.  Would you?” 

  “Shit, no.” 

  “Didn’t think so.”  They laze there on that sofa for a while yet until the moon is high in the midnight sky and their bed starts calling her name.  And yeah.  Michonne wasn’t exactly wrong, but Carol’s always heard it put a different way.  Somewhere between six and forty ways to Sunday, she has her own celebration. 

  Daryl is only too happy to oblige. 

#The Walking Dead #Caryl fanfiction #Caryl #Carol x Daryl #stuff that I write #Waltzing's for Dreamers #aka What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas fic #Michonne #Lori Grimes #mentions of Andrea Harrison #Philip Blake #Rick Grimes #mention of Carl Grimes #Jerry #Nabila #Sophia Peletier #mention of Shane Walsh #more

[artificialzeezee]

Satire Sexuality: Cocktails and resolutions.

Summary: Cis!girl bitney - University brings out things never expected within people. The truth, the lies, the worst of the best and everything in-between. There’s the pressure of first time independence along with finding yourself, and the dread of loneliness that needs to find time in your schedule. Drinking, smoking, sex and studying; life has to keep going. Couples meet, lovers clash and it all happens while becoming an adult, what could go wrong?

Happy New Year! Alix makes an appointment, Danny consoles his best friend, and everyone plays drinking games.

Warning: LGBT+ issues (such as homophobia, transphobia and the conflict of coming out), many sexual references, alcohol and drug mentions and violence. (not always relevant to each chapter but to be expected) - Mostly original characters minus girl!Bianca and girl!Courtney

[A lot of in depth conversation about transition, and an outsiders feelings that may come off as offensive but aren’t intended. It’s not really trigger worthy but better to put a warning than not!] 

[P.s. a pretty long chapter- as in 30 pages long. I didn’t want to split it up and have a two parter again so I just left it to be really long! Enjoy!<33]

PART FIFTEEN: “First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.”

-

There wasn’t a chemical difference that festered in the air- burnt on bare skin to accompany the knowledge that it was a new year, people just knew and celebrated that the beginning was back. A freshness caught in the fruitful, buoyant space of their lungs. New years was a time for new starts and plans of action.

Bianca decided she wanted to be back in Wandsworth for New Years. Despite Kendra’s protests, Bianca insisted she’d already taken up too much space in her mother’s apartment and she just wanted to be alone. Truthfully, Bianca couldn’t bare watching Kendra so happy with her parents, not being able to experience the same thing. She couldn’t bare being around her best friend after her small break down, as the embarrassment weighed down like dark entities, and she needed to be away. Back in the flat, alone, pitying herself. 

“I feel good with you. Really good, and I woke up missing you.”

She hasn’t been able to forget her conversation with Courtney, and how stale it felt. The broken barriers between them, Bianca felt herself slowly and surely fixing them, in order to never let herself get so hurt by the blonde bombshell again. The whole train ride home, Bianca finds her chest lunging for someone that’s not there, and her hands ache to touch the curves she knows will bring her to tears. Her head pounds, never taking a break from the dawning thoughts that soon she’ll be reunited with Courtney, and she’s nervous about it. Terribly nervous, that every so often, if she pounders too long about it, she feels deathly nauseous and dizzy.

That’s why when she arrives back at the apartment, she wastes as little to no time there. She throws her suitcase in her room and calls Zara.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favourite yank.”

“You having a party tonight, Z?”

“What do you think? Of fucking course! I thought you were out of town though-”

“I need to get wasted, and I need to get laid. Are you going to help me achieve these goals?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me. Get your ass here at 8 o’clock, and bring a bottle of something. Preferably vodka.”

She puts on all her best makeup. Slick wings, feathery fake lashes, and the cherry on top of the cake that has become a signature of Bianca’s, the luscious plump red lips. Desirable, exquisite, and she can’t wait to smother the colour across someone’s pink lips later, in a drunken wonderment of lust. She straightens her hair, long and luxurious, shimmering in the pink sun set, as it peaks through Bianca’s open window. She puts on waist high jeans with a small yellow smiley face stitched into the flare, and an orange flimsy shirt tied in the middle. Admiring her reflection, she notes the bumps of her body and sighs with dissatisfaction.

Courtney was beautiful - she could wear this same outfit, and be a beckon of allure, and Bianca is nothing but a lump of disinterest. Her chest isn’t supple and delicate for the low cut collar, her hips aren’t perfectly chiseled to hide the truth of her stretch marks, and her presence isn’t flawless, effortless sex appeal that “little miss perfect” could do without even breaking a sweat. Bianca envied her, for her slender frame, her baby face, and her precious, wide innocent eyes that made everyone fall at her feet like slaves.

Bianca didn’t like to admit it, but she was self conscious. Sometimes she liked how she looked, sometimes she didn’t care, but more than likely she found herself wishful for a reflection that didn’t make her skin crawl. Looking at herself, and seeing how her curves didn’t look womanly, but rather just made her look bloated and lumpy, she envied those around her. Courtney’s stick-like legs, Kendra’s keen jaw line, Zara’s extensive height giving her the appearance of a rake. Bianca was surrounded by slim women who barely lifted a finger to gain attraction. 

And Bianca just wasn’t one of them. 

She had a cup size bigger than her face, and she had a wide ass, and thighs that chaffed when she walked. She had a double chin looking down at her phone, and sometimes she stressed that sleeveless outfits made her arms look fat.  Looking at herself, her heart fluttered nervously, thinking people would laugh at her. She tugged her trousers up a little, tossed her long hair over her back and turned to her side to see her bum. 

“Least that aint so bad.” She chuckled. She shook her head, deciding despite her self confidence being dust under her high heels, she’d put on a brave face and go out in the outfit regardless. Her brother told her she looked “fish” when he bought it for her, and usually he was a better judge of fashion than she was. She grabbed her phone off the counter and her keys and rushed out her room.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she was startled at an unexpected figure drinking a beer while sat on the kitchen counter. Matt, in only his running shorts and his hair slicked back with sweat. She gasped, holding her chest as she regained her breath. He tittered, but as she approached closer, pouring herself a shot of tequila, his eyes began to wander over her body. 

“Wow, Del Rio. You’re looking fucking fit tonight.” He growled, practically drooling when she turned to face him and his eyes landed on her cleavage. Despite needing an ego boost, Bianca found herself more disgusted than flattered by Matt’s comment.

“You know how to charm a girl, don’t you, Matt?” She threw the tequila down and cringed, licking salt of her hand and then burying her teeth into a juicy lemon wedge. The sour stung her throat, contradictory as it soothed the burn trickling down to her stomach. She flailed her arms out and let out a brawled shout, then she turned to face Matt and his eyes were still a little too seductive for her liking. To think I ever fancied men, she thought to herself as he practically drooled over her chest. 

“Where are you off to then, Del Rio, dressed like that?” a guttural tone coloured his words dirty, and made her skin crawl. She poured out another shot, knowing she’d need to hurry up and get tipsy if she was to withstand a conversation with him.

“A party.”

“That’s all the information you’re giving me?”

“Don’t want you showing up and crashing it.”

“I would never. Although, an excuse to get drunk and get laid would be appreciated.”

Bianca wanted to throw up, thinking she’d said something scarily similar to his words. She threw back her third shot, twitching her head as the shiver took over her nerves and the sudden dreary lightness of drinking began to infect her blood. Enough shots, she dictated to herself, grabbing her vodka from her cupboard and pouring herself a vodka and cranberry drink: double.

“So, no address? C’mon, help a man out.”

“No fucking way. None of the girls there are gonna like you away.”

“Oh. They all rug munchers too?”

She cocked her jaw, as flashing images of punching him hard, blackening his eye delighted her anger. “That’s exactly why you’re not coming,” she chugged her drink as fast as possible, grabbing her vodka and walking to the front door, “Because you’re a cunt.”

She slammed the door behind her and resisted the urge to punch the wall. Matt was intolerable. She wished that when moving into a flat in England she could have ended up with three perfectly respectful roommates she’d adore, not two and an asshole they saw once in a blue moon. At least he was only there on the odd occasion, when he wasn’t busy blindly intoxicated or drugged up on too much weed and horse tranquillisers, or playing football with a group of guys as annoying as he was. They rarely had to endure his crude behaviour, and even then, Kendra was usually able to escape it. Trevor was always the butt of his jokes, and Bianca was the toy he liked to play with.

“Fucking dick.” she muttered to herself as she walked outside the complex and into the uber she’d ordered. 

Zara’s house was thriving with life, the walls practically colliding with each other as the music blared out remixes and dubstep. Bianca sheepishly walked in, clutching her vodka close to her hip. Zara and Harriet lived in a rather large house, decorated lavishly and usually kept rather clean. It was unexpected to see such pristine care for the home of two girls in their 20′s, and to live somewhere that seemed like a pipe dream to a struggling student like Bianca was inspiring. Currently, however, the house was littered with other guests in their 20s, grinding against each other and slurring messy terms of endearments toward one another. The yellowish creamy colours of their interior decorations had been transformed into dreamy waves as the sunset flushed the room and the dim lights gave everyone a lusting twinkle deep in their iris’. Bianca stepped through the crowds of people, attempting to find a familiar face.

In the kitchen she found Harriet talking to a cute blonde, with a bob hair cut and dark skin, and a body that Bianca tried not to stare at. She was going to slyly introduce herself into the conversation, but Harriet spotted her and squealed in delight, rushing over and wrapping her arms around Bianca. She squeezed tight, resembling an anaconda, and Bianca grunted as her bones practically popped.

“Bianca! You’re here, I’m so happy to see you!” Harriet swung as they embraced, laughing sweetly between each breath. She was especially adorable tonight, wearing a red plaid skirt high on her hips and an off the shoulders black tight top, accentuating the rigid lines of her collar bones and the small crack of her cleavage. Her hair was long and kinked down her back, shimmering dark in the little light that brightened the room. Harriet was the kind of girl with a picture perfect face - strong cheekbones, rotund pink lips, the sort of eyes that a person could spend years swimming in without ever finding an unruly wave. Bianca appreciated Harriet majorly, and if she didn’t know any better she’d have made a pass at her long before. 

“Hay, Harriet.” Bianca wriggled free, eyes flipping between her and the stranger. “Where uh, is Zara?”

“Oh, somewhere, who knows! Probably galavanting with some girl as per usual.” Harriet shrugged, reaching behind herself to pick up her drink. “Don’t worry, she’ll save you a dance. Oh my God she’d going to be so excited you came!”

“She will?”

“Well...whatever passes for excitement when it’s Zara.” She chuckles, turning to face her friend and then gasps. “Oh would you look at me, I’m so rude! Bianca, this is my friend, Ebele. We work together.”

Bianca smirked, nodding at the girl. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Ebele’s voice was silvery, dripping like gold acid down her purple lips, and Bianca found herself completely wrapped up in whatever this girl might have to say - the stories covered in luxurious rich jewels, oozing grace and importance, and edge. Her dark, mesmerising eyes, like the ageing colours of a grand opera house, sparkling too. She took the straw in her can of pimms and sucked it slowly, staring at Bianca the whole time, as a smile crept at the side of her mouth devilishly.

Courtney who? Bianca thought, trying even harder not to stare at the stunning girl giving her ‘fuck-me’ eyes. “So, got any cups, Harriet?” Bianca asked, holding her vodka up. Harriet jumped off to grab her a generic red cup - like the ones Bianca’s brother would buy for beer pong - and she poured herself a generous amount of vodka to mix. 

She stayed with Ebele and Harriet for a few more minutes, talking about their christmas’ and some guy at their work that keeps asking Harriet out, and then she excused herself. She decided to be the lone wolf in a gang of dogs in heat, watching closely: wisely. She put her foot against the wall and sipped on her drink, admiring the chaos of young adults pretending everything was fine, as long as they were too drunk to think about their problems. 

A girl dressed up casual, in baggy jeans and a checkered shirt, with a snapback on and her long black hair almost reaching her bum. She stood with two boys, laughing obnoxiously as they downed their beers, every so often nodding out of time to the music. The two boys, dressed similarly to her, laughing with half the energy and checking over their shoulders every few seconds to meet the eyes of other guests. In the corner are two girls, cuddling on the arm chair, completely electrified by the other person and under their spell that to even try and blink would be sinful. Both gorgeous, skinny and brunette, merely inches away from kissing one another. A few steps away from them are a group of guys, joshing around and making crude hand gestures as they looked over at the two girls. Bianca didn’t expect anything less from a group of guys. 

Standing alone, she was able to gather all the translucent thoughts scattering the web of her mind. Bianca didn’t like being left alone with her thoughts for too long, and had gotten into the habit off finding meaningless distractions as soon as her brain wandered out of the bonds of comfortability. 

Too much pressure to excel. 

Relying on drinking. 

Afraid of what awaits her in America.

Homophobia. 

Body image issues.

Courtney.

Homesick. 

Courtney.

Typical poor student.

Courtney.

Courtney Act.

Courtney fucking Act.

She couldn’t seem to shake herself off the damn, disastrous tease, despite being surrounded by dozens of drop dead gorgeous women. Her thoughts kept coming back to the thin legs, and the Australian accent, and the blonde hair- the God damn blonde hair, sweeping across Courtney’s face, caught in Bianca’s fingers, frail but shinning, caught in Courtney’s mouth, spread over her pillow-

That damn blonde hair. Bianca despised being under the spell of someone else. A control freak, just like her father, and just like her grandmother, and just like her brother. Bianca’s blood ran with the same desire to keep control no matter what should try disrupt the balance of her efforts. A damn blonde, kissing her when she’s drunk on depression, tearing out her heart, toying with it, crushing it, tapping it back together. Bianca was done being Courtney’s confusing phase.

Even if she wasn’t the first.

“Could you look anymore depressed if you tried?” Bianca’s head whipped round beside her, and there stood Zara, looking as enticing as fire. A red bra underneath a netted vest top and tight, torn black skinny jeans, accompanied by dock martins. Even with her heels, Zara still managed to tower over Bianca, resting her forearm on the wall above Bianca’s head. Her black hair like a clear winters night, and she smelled like apple cider and a friend’s bed; too familiar yet foreign enough to get lost in the comfort. 

She straightened up, wiping any trace of her moment from her face with a witty smirk. “I mean, I could give it a try.”

“You shouldn’t. You look better when you smile.”

Bianca softly laughs. “Sure.” She downs the rest of her drink and whistles, opening her eyes as wide as possible while the adrenaline washes down her body like a waterfall, and the crashing in her stomach rippled through her blood. 

That’s where it began. Bianca let go and was alone, drunk and vulnerable. She had more vodka, laughing with Zara as they cuddled together like old friends, and made pals with a couple of broad shouldered boys, doing shots as a group. She danced on a table, she acquired a denim jacket 3 sizes too big, and she stopped thinking about Courtney long enough to take a breath. No more choking, she was able to feel her lungs expand, because being drunk gave her something Courtney couldn’t: freedom.

The rush kept her heart pumping, and nothing else mattered. Bianca hadn’t let go in so long, the muscles that were bound together had finally loosened and her aches caramelised sweetly against the will of her bubbling ego. She liked getting drunk, she loved how it made her feel carefree and ambitious and confident, as if she could be anyone and do anything. Letting per pressure determine the friendships and decisions she made that night, Bianca became a version of herself she imaged she was at 16 - when she only knew the outlines of her big plan, and didn’t worry about her labels, and was invincible behind a crowd that protected her. Drink after drink, she began to forget the stress that had consumed her life. Who cares that she broke Vivianne’s heart? Who cares that Courtney was breaking her own? Who cares about anything! All that seemed to matter at that very moment in time, was Zara’s body against hers as they danced, with Ebele close by, and a couple dozen other girls giggling. All that mattered was the false sense of happiness that she found herself drunk on.

“I told you you were better when you smiled!” Zara admired, eyes fluttering suggestively as she took Bianca’s hand and spun her around playfully. Bianca scoffed, grabbing Zara by the hips and pulling her against her body.

“Baby, I can show you so much better than a stupid smile.”

Zara cackled, falling against Bianca and using her body for support. The lean girl, like a grand weeping willow, dead weight against Bianca’s intoxicated self - she was struggling to keep herself standing let alone someone else.

Zara was drop dead gorgeous. She was the kind of girl Bianca couldn’t even imagine touching in her wildest dreams, given she had all the qualities of a perfect galaxy wrapped up in the security of a beautiful young woman. Shimmering, breath taking, whimsical - she was that of a great natural attraction, or a natural disaster, rolled into one. She was cocky, but endearing, and careful. Bianca needed careful. Really, she needed someone like Zara, and if she listened to her gut feeling, she’d be going after Zara without consideration as to what her heart wanted. Both lesbians, both single, and both deeply attracted to the idea of lust.

She pushed Zara up to stand for herself, and stroked her thumb down her cheek, staring deeply into the dark brown crystal shine of her eyes. Her skin was taunt and smooth, the light feel of silky foundation pressed against Bianca’s skin, and Zara purred in response, watching Bianca with a fiendish admiration that seemed foreign to the other girl.

“What is it you want?” Zara whispered, the honeyed tone making Bianca’s stomach twinge. Her hands began to feel clammy as they were grabbed and her body slammed into Zara’s. Her breasts pushed up and the cleavage she usually hides available and at the prying eyes of Zara’s desires. She bites her lip, eyes hidden under her lids as she stares at the rotund flesh that is barely contained in Bianca’s shirt. 

Bianca is dry of any coherent thought. All she has are hot, wet wants, seeping through her pours, echoing in the space of her gut, fuelled by the alcohol she’s poured down her throat. Her hands are clinging to Zara’s back, eager to hold her closer, and the heat flowing between them feels like a thousand hands caressing her more sensitive parts, loving her, needing her. She lets out a husky snicker...

Then she blinks. 

Next thing she knows, through the blurred daze that’s swept her off her feet, Bianca ends up up the stairs with Zara. She ends up in her bedroom with the other girl on the mattress as she lays beside her, grinning. 

The dull thudding still coming through the floors as life continues downstairs. Bianca’s mind, is just broken webs, floating in the breeze. She closes her eyes for a second and lets the hollow air smooth her over. She was forgetting all the unimportant worries clogging her up.

“I really miss you, B.”

Bianca was forgetting Courtney’s accent.

“Do you miss me?”

Bianca was forgetting Courtney’s smile.

“I’m smiley, and you’re grumpy, and I feel like we work!”

Bianca was forgetting how she felt about Courtney.

“I’ve never met someone like you before, B-”

Bianca was forgetting how to feel calm.

“-and I’ve never felt so much love for someone so quickly”

Bianca was forgetting how to breath-

“SHIT!” She screamed, suddenly jolting up in a panicked state, grabbing her chest as paranoid thoughts of her heart hanging out of a crudely cut hole in her skin filled her mind. Cold anxiety flushed her body, and she began heaving a nausea lacing her throat. She gripped the sheets of the bed, trying to make sense of the sudden attack that had shocked her. 

Zara sat up softly, putting an arm around her and shushed her gently, kissing her cheek and down her neck, unbothered by the clean panic attack Bianca was battling. Her eyes wide with fear, focused on the spot on the chest of drawers ahead of her, and she tried to reason with the hectic hysteria as it coursed her body, uninvited and unexpected. Tender kisses pressed against her red hot skin, and hands now trapping her to the bed that she once felt so comfortable to lay in. What was happening, why was she so panicked all of a sudden? Why, for the first time being with a girl and the one time it really mattered, did she care so much?

“No, Zara-” Bianca pushed her off, her breathing still erratic but she was starting to gain control. The older girl watched her, confused and somewhat amused to Bianca’s annoyance. “I can’t do this.” Bianca says, probably a little more stentorian in tone than she expected. She pushes herself off the bed and balances herself on the chest of drawers opposite, gripping the wood, wondering how hard she’d have to claw her nails into the wood till it chipped. Zara stayed quiet, watching, a brow raised.

“I’m a fucking mess.” Bianca breathed, pushing back her hair that had fallen around her face. She turns to face Zara, looking distressed. “I’m sorry, Z. I want to, I really want to, but I-”

“Yeah I get it, yanky. You’re still hooked on little miss perfect, right?” Zara stands up and struts toward Bianca, with an expression that could only be explained within the pages of a sweaty, unfiltered erotica. Bianca gulps, lets the girl lean her body against her as she traps her between her slim frame and the wood, and Zara smells sweet and fresh that Bianca is soaring higher and higher through the thick clouds blocking the cluttered spaces of her thoughts. Zara’s face is but a few inches from hers, and her lips are soft and dark, contoured in the hot shades of the dim room. “But for a minute, why don’t you just be happy?” She persuades, pressing her lips against the edge of her jaw line, kissing delicately. “This isn’t serious, and no one needs to ever know about this. Let’s just,” Zara gently pushes Bianca down to lay on her back, and straddles her lap. Bianca’s hands instinctively hold her hips, and she bites her lip when Zara pulls her top off over her head, revealing the tiny, womanly figure and the lacy bra that is thin enough Zara’s nipples protrude the material. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves right now. Stop thinking about that straight girl, and focus on me.”

Bianca swallows down the anxious knot tied around her voice box and nods, trying to push back the messy dread that had swarmed her but moments ago. A sly grin snakes across Zara’s face, and she leans down, cups Bianca’s face and kisses her tenderly, letting out a satisfied sigh when Bianca’s lips press back. 

It’s something. Coated in desire and frustration, and better intentions for that of another, on both parties side. Bianca knows that Zara is trying to convince everyone else before herself that she’s happy being single, and Bianca somewhat wonders if by being the interest of her drunken lust that she will become a regular distraction, but it doesn’t matter in the moment. Bianca holds Zara’s slim body, kisses her chest, squeezes her ass, and eventually she’s lost in the serenity of sex. Hot and heavy sex that only two friends pretending could truly admire and perfect. 

Bianca moans, Zara chuckles, there’s a mixture of deliciously delirious noises that stick to the sheets like the sweat dripping of their bodies. The party down stairs stays lively, but the two girls forget that anyone else even exists in the world let alone under the same roof they share...

-

Alix was going to start taking testosterone. He was actually transitioning, 100% committed and running with the bull.

As soon as he came back from Christmas, he had an appointment booked on the 3rd of January with his GP in Wandsworth. He explained he was transgender and wanted to start his transition. She’d recommended Alix go to a Gender Identity Clinic about 40 minutes away by train in London to talk through his options and what he really wanted. Alix was certain he was ready to transition and knew what he wanted, but he went never the less. It seemed he had to go if he was ever going to become truly who he was.

The experience was serial. He stepped through the automatic doors into a creamy yellow scene of clean, and that’s where he was faced with people like himself. Transgender people, who wanted to take the next step. He walked into the building and waited for his appointment beside a woman with skull tattoos covering her arms and gorgeous red hair that sat at her lower back. Opposite him, a guy with a pencil beard and long lashes, and then a women that almost looked like Courtney but with dyed white hair, strutting past to look at the leaflets not far from where he was sat. It looked like a GP surgery, but it was different.

He was one of them too, one of the people that was different to the eye. Some of these people had transitioned, others were in the middle of transitioning. The people around him were just like him, but at different stages of his goal.

Finally, a woman comes out with a cherry blossom smile and calls Alix into an office that is a collection of calm colours of yellow, blue and pink. It’s not like his GP’s office with diagrams of the human body or important health alerts on the walls that always attract eyes to read, but rather it’s plain and official. More dull, but less intense to sit in. The women, Mrs McLaughlin, with her short black bob and thin glasses perched on the end of her nose. She sits at the desk across from where Alix assumes is where he sits, and she smiles as if she knows him.

“You’re lucky we had a cancelation, usually it can take weeks or months to get an appointment here.” She laughs, pulling out her notebook and a fluffy top blue pen that distracts Alix’s eyes. “So, name?”

“Alix Williamson.” He answers, and she writes it down, delicately, but then he notices- “Oh, no, with an i, not an e. A, L, I, X.” She nods, correcting her mistake.

“Don’t think I’ve ever come across that spelling before. Is that the name you were given at birth?”

Alix shakes his head. “No. No, my name was Jodie.”

“Ah I see. So how long have people been calling you Alix?”

“About 5 years, I think? I mean, some people called me Alix, and now everyone calls me Alix. Does that count?”

“If you had anyone refer to you by your preferred name, then yes, it counts.” She smiles and then crosses her arms on the desk. “So you’ve been living as a male for a number of years already. Why have you never come to a GIC before?”

“I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to be…you know.” He run a hand through his hair and chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, I’ve been Alix since I was like 14 and I’ve been going by he the same amount of time. When I first told my mam, she wasn’t so supportive and that put me off. I guess now I’m living on my own, I feel confident doing this.”

Mrs McLaughlin noted down something he couldn’t quite make out, before nonchalantly asking, “Do you bind? If so, how long?”

“Um…” 

“There’s no need to feel uncomfortable. I know these may be some very personal questions you’re not use to discussing but I promise you, everything is confidential. This is a safe place.” She smiles sincerely.

Alix was never usually aware of his binder on his body unless brought up. After so long it just felt normal to wear, not constricting like in the beginning. Suddenly he could feel the stretchy material rubbing against his skin. “Yeah, I’d say almost 4 years…but, almost everyday binding 2 years. Does that make sense?”

“Yes it does.” The sound of her pen scribbling again. “What about the hair? Lovely colour by the way.”

“Thank you. I only shaved it before I came to university in August. Even then, it was longer,” he waved his hand over the left of his face, “this side. My friend gave it a decent trim before Christmas.”

“And before that, you had long hair?”

“Yeah, to keep my mam happy. I had it tied back most of the time, or in a hat.” He smiled tossing his head as if the long strands were still there and would wave by. “I never liked having long hair anyway. It was always in the way and it was hot in the summer!”

She writes it all down as if her life depends on the end of her pen, and Alix watches her careful cursive as she makes no mistake. It’s a girls handwriting - pretty and delicate with every letter looking sharp, and then his eyes lift to her face. She’s a pointed woman, like if she was put in a room of balloons they would pop at just her gaze, and her bones peak beneath the frail colour of her skin, but she’s almost beautiful. Maybe for someone who likes thin, secure women, but not enough for Alix. Her ears are pixie like, and she wears small cheap gold earrings that Alix didn’t think anyone over the age of 17 would wear. McLaughlin - a pristine, persist woman of strict elegance.

“Tell me, Alix,” she sets her pen down on her notebook and looks at him with an adult smile, “What are you intentions with coming here? With transitioning, what is it you want?” She crosses her legs and places her hands on her pointy knee. “GIC has the aim of helping people who are transexual to start loving themselves, and start the road toward the life they want to live. What is it you want us to help you with?”

Initially, Alix thinks ‘I want a dick and a beard’ and then holds back his tongue from blurting out the crude answer. Truthfully, he does want those things. He wants rid of his feminine attributes so that he can look at himself without doubt and feel like the person he’s been trying to convince everyone else he is. He wonders why it’s even a question - doesn’t every trans person want the whole package?

“I…want to be a boy.” He replies, oh-so matter of factually, with a dumbfounded smile that she does’t take. Mrs McLaughlin raises a brow and hums, putting her elbow on the table and resting against her hand as if he’s supposed to carry on. Alix finds himself racking his brain for a logically answer- the answer she expects, before shrugging. “I mean, I’m here for the obvious, right? I want to be a guy, completely. I-I don’t want breasts, and I don’t want a girly face, and I don’t want anyone to mistake my gender. I want to be a boy, 100%.”

“So you want to transition completely?”

“Well…doesn’t everyone? Why would you come here if you didn’t want to transition?”

Mrs McLaughlin takes a deep breath. “Everyone’s different. Some people want to have top surgery but not bottom surgery, and some people aren’t initially comfortable with taking medication for whatever reason. We help people to understand exactly what they want with their transition. Some people are comfortable with their bodies but just need emotional guidance. You however,” her smile slides almost with a certain cockiness that puzzles Alix. “You know what you want, by the sounds of things. Medication, surgery and therapy.”

“Therapy? I don’t need-“

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s to help you cope as your body changes. You need to understand, Alix, that the influx of testosterone that will enter your body due to medication will have a massive effect on your emotions let alone your physical state. A lot of transgender men struggle with sudden and irrational anger that they’re not use to, and it’s not something that lasts forever but it may be very difficult to deal with in the beginning, especially if you’re under a lot of stress.”

Alix almost found the idea humorous - that he could possibly hold anymore anger in his body. He jolts one of his shoulders. “I’m fine though. I mean, if it gets me closer to what I want then fairs, I’ll do what I gotta do but uh...I’m all good up here.” He taps the side of his head and chuckles. 

She doesn’t laugh back. She hums, and scribbles something messily that Alix finds gives him a sense of dread. The dagger stuck in his back that holds him back from the whole process, dictated by the ink and paper. He holds a breath in his chest and prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that this was a mistake. Alix wants this, more than anything any one of his friends has ever wanted let alone himself. 

“I need to be Alix.” His statement comes out like a plead, and she lifts her eyes to see his worry, stopping in her tracks of writing. He licks his dry lips and takes a steady breath. “Since I was a little kid, I have always felt different to all the other kids in my class or on my street. All the girls would play dress up and they liked playing the mum at lunch time games, but I didn’t. I figured it was nothing, there were girls I knew that had action men and liked trucks, and my friend Danny even owned a tutu that he refused to take off for a week straight, but...he did take it off. They could all take off the unimportant kiddy games and turn off, and I couldn’t. I hated wearing dresses and having pigtails because I hated looking like my sister and every other girl I knew. I hated not being allowed to play rugby with the guys, and I hated how boys wouldn’t take me seriously about video games when I’d been playing them since I was 6 with my dad. I just want to finally be the person on the outside that I know I am on the inside. I want to prove to everyone that it wasn’t a phase. I didn’t grow out of some ‘tom boy stage all little girls go through’, because I’m a boy. I need to be Alix on the outside, because everyone assumes I’m Jodie, when all I have ever been, is Alix...nothing else.”

Mrs McLaughlin grins, and it steadies Alix’s frazzles heart. She scribbles something on her paper before pulling out a pamphlet from her desk, sliding it across the table for Alix to look at. “Well then, how about we plan your transition.”

Alix has never felt so happy before. This is it, the beginning of his life.

-

Courtney ox: Guess who’s bought you back wine? Australian Durif to be persist.

Danny xo: It better be you! Otherwise you’ll be very sorry to get my hopes up!

Courtney ox: Uh oh.

Danny xo: Get your butt in my room right now missy! Unless that “uh oh” was serious, cause in that case I want you to march to the nearest corner shop and buy wine, you tease!

There comes a knock at Danny’s door a few seconds later, and there stands a glowing Courtney, with the bottle of wine she had mentioned. She waves it in front of Danny, and he is hypnotised by the allure like a dog to a bone. He snatches the bottle from her hands then tugs her through, throwing her onto the bed and locking his dorm door. She giggles, pushing her hair out of her face and watching as he takes two red cups from the stack on his desk and pours more than plenty enough wine for them both. 

“Right then. Come on,” He offers her one of the cups and sits beside her on the bed, crossing his legs like a woman. “Tell me the gossip. What happened in Australia?”

Courtney sipped her drink. “What makes you think anything happened?” and before she can even make up a lie, Danny gives her a knowing smirk, his eyes glistening with the best intent but devils interest.

“Are you an honest to god naive bombshell, or do you just pretend to be an idiot at times?” He snickers, putting his cup on his side table and crossing his arms. “Bitchy Del Rio told Kendra, who told Trevor about what you got up to back home. You made out with a girl?”

What came over Courtney was a sudden mixture of all the worst - shock, anger, nausea, the intense desire to run frantically for nothing in particular. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to tell Danny everything that happened, but the fact that Bianca had told Trevor about it all hurt her. She confined in the other girl thinking she could trust her, unload the troubles of her mind with an honest secrecy between them. What had happened confused Courtney majorly, she needed to try detangle it, and she had hoped that Bianca would help her with that. Knowing now, that she had betrayed her trust and had told people about Courtney’s adventure, infuriated her. 

She swallows around the cluster of emotions building in her throat and cleanses it with the sweet smooth feeling of wine. After swallowing, she shrugs her shoulder and laughs. “It really wasn’t that big a deal. I made out with a girl and almost had a threesome. Replace girl with guy and that would have been one of your regular Saturday’s back in the day.”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning on the bed and propping himself up with his elbow. “Considering how freaked out you were when it came to kissing Bianca, I’m shocked you made out with another girl so casually while you were home.” Danny arched his brow, trying to break through the shield she held up. “And the fact you told the person who is completely and utterly hung up on you-”

“Bianca isn’t-”

“I know you’re not that naive, Courtney.” Danny says, sternly. He takes another drink of his wine, watching as the worry lines settle on her forehead. Danny is fine to be Courtney’s shoulder to cry on, he’s taken that roll on with pride and dignity, as he always has with his friends. However, the frustration of watching her not only lie to herself but to him is something he’s never experienced before, and the wire of his patience is starting to fray. “Why are you so afraid to admit the truth? Especially to me of all people!”

“Maybe because you and your boyfriend have a pair of big mouths who can’t seem to keep a secret secret!”

“Don’t even drag Trevor into this, because you know I’ll defend him in a heartbeat. He’s had a hard christmas and he’s worried about one of his closest friends. Everyone else can see it except you.”

“There is nothing to see, Danny!”

“Courtney, I’m gay! Of all the people, why don’t you trust me with the truth? What am I going to say-”

“For God sake, maybe I don’t want to talk about it! Why are you so fucking persistent?” She slams her wine down on the table, standing up over him as he frowns at her. They’re both frowning at one another. “You all want to get involved when the truth is, none of you have the right! I’ve known you barely half a year, and Bianca’s roommates even less than that! You all think you can just tell me what I should be because you’re all so happy with yourselves and you’ve figured it out- well guess what? Not everyone has done that! I’m still figuring myself out! You’re gay, Trevor’s bi, Alix is transitioning...you all know!”

“Oh, so what, we all have it so easy?!”

“Not what I said! But at least you have a clue. You know where you’re all going and what to do if it gets tough. I don’t know what I am, where I’m going, or who will be there along the way!”

“That’s why you talk about it, instead of bottling it up-”

“I’m good at bottling it up. I’ve learnt how to perfect bottling it up, and I’ll stick to it. All you’ve done, Danny, is judge me! You judged Steven, you judge Bianca- you don’t have my best interest at heart, you’re just a damn gossip!”

Danny gasps, cocking his jaw and standing to square up to her, hover inches above where their heights differ. “You know what, Court? I’m done catering to your feelings.” He points his long index finger at her face, still scowling, and she starts to retreat in her anger. “You’re gay, Courtney! You, are, gay! And it’s not a scary thing! Everyone is gay these days, and most of your friends are gay, and you are smitten with a lesbian! Admit it, you’re gay!”

“I’m not gay-”

“No, admit it.”

‘Danny, you’re being-”

“Admit that you’re gay.”

“I’m starting to get so-”

“Just admit it!”

“FINE!” Courtney screams, making him cower back. Her whole body changes in a flash- shoulders tensed, fists clenched, her teeth gritted and eroding her pearly whites as she heaves on thick breaths. Her eyes hurt from how intense she glares at him. “I have liked girls, okay?! I like girls- I think women can be just as attractive as men and maybe, just maybe, I like Bianca! There, you fucking happy?!” She starts to well up, but tries to keep her raged demeanour. Danny stops being angry when he sees the water balling up in the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know for sure what I want, or who I like, but if you’re so desperate to break me down then here you go! I’m broken! I once dated a girl back in Australia and I kissed her when I went home, and you know why I called Bianca? Because I felt fucking guilty! Because I didn’t want to kiss anyone else or be with anyone else, and I didn’t want her to find out through anyone else, because all of you are so fucking nosey and spread shit like wildfire! So there, I told her because God damn it, I respect her and I really fucking LIKE HER!”

Courtney practically screams the last part, and the tears begin falling from her eyes, but she doesn’t retract her rage. She stands with the strength of 10 men, and the height of a giant, and she wills a hole to burn through Danny. There he stands, with sorrow in his eyes, and she wants him to leave her alone and plead her forgiveness at the same time. She hasn’t felt so angry in years, but it feels sweet to release all the pent up frustration- illusively delicious, like she could spend up all of her anxiety and cash out for the explosive rage every time things feel even a little bad. 

But as the quiet settles, and his eyes grow more with a pathetic pity, she suddenly feels the punch of her words hit her in the gut. Courtney said it out loud, the terrifying admission she’d been trying to squeeze down, now out in the open for all to bare and discuss like they had any right to. Danny, her best friend, now knew for sure...

“Danny, I-”

“I’m sorry, babe. I never should have pushed you to say anything.”

“No, I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things to you. I didn’t...I just, all of this is so...I never meant you guys have it easy, of course I didn’t!”

“I know.” He gently puts his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tight. As soon as she’s against his warm chest, hearing the soothing patter of his heartbeat, she releases the floodgates and sobs against his hold. Danny strokes her back, shushing her, trying to console her troubled mind. 

“Courtney, you are my best friend. I don’t care how long I’ve known you, I care so much about you. If you don’t want me to tell anyone, including Trevor, then I won’t.” He laces his fingers in the hair down her back, brushing it. Her cries begin to quiet and all she’s left with are soft sniffles and old tears. Danny hates that he made her explode so disastrously, but to some degree he’s relieved she had let it out now than later. “But listen,” he softly pushes her back, crouching down to meet her at eye level, “This isn’t a bad thing. You know she’s crazy about you to! Why don’t you just tell her?”

“No.” She bluntly responds, furrowing her brows. “No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because...I don’t want to. I don’t know exactly what I want. I just...I don’t want to feel this confused.” She tugged at his denim shirt, tugging him closer to her again as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to deny anymore tears. Danny kept her close, resuming stroking her back and hoping there would be a resolution soon, to stop her sadness. 

“Coming out is hard, Courtney, but it’s not always as scary as people think. Your parents are accepting and obviously so are your friends! You just have to be brave and make the jump. Yes, me, Trevor and Alix are all out in whatever way that may be, but you think it’s all picking daisies and sunshine?” Danny let her go, tugging her down to sit back on the bed and wiping a tear from under her eye. His smile had returned to the usual goofy, loveable way it was. “God no! Alix’s sister still doesn’t accept him, Trevor’s whole family are unsupportive of him, and you think kids on my block just accepted me with open arms? The thing is, we just stick with those who do accept us. Why focus too long on the negative!” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her cheek. She focused on him with divine interest. “You, my beautiful girl, have too big of a heart to feel so sad. Be yourself, Courtney. Please.”

Courtney dabbed the corners of her eyes, taking a calm breath, and let her eyes look anywhere other than Danny’s. She wasn’t ready- it was that simple. She knew Bianca’s track record when it came to girls and to be one of a long list would be too hard to handle. After so much time of denial, even when it was most obvious, it wasn’t worth it in her opinion to come out when she didn’t feel like it would be a definite thing. She wasn’t going to risk compromising the biggest secret she’d held so close to her, just to watch it shatter into a million pieces. For Courtney, if she couldn’t have being out and date Bianca as a duo deal, then she wouldn’t do it.

Danny’s face however, was so caring. To say no to him, would be difficult...not impossible though. She shook her head and forced a large grin to spread over her face, eyes brightening along with the chipper expression. She took her wine and downed the rest, leaning over and taking the bottle to refill her cup.

“I’m not ready yet, Danny. But, I’ll say it to you, and that’s enough for now.” She raised her cup in the air, biting her lip with glee and waiting. He chuckled, rolling his eyes but nevertheless holding his cup up to meet hers. “Here’s to being somewhat, maybe gay.”

“There aint no maybe with me, baby. But...I’ll take it, for now.” They clink cups and drink. 

-

A party at Johnson’s was the plan, and it was a night to ensure high spirits and drunken shenanigans. With more than enough supervision and organisation from Alix, the two had decided that since everyone was home from Christmas break they may as well wrangle everyone together and throw a small house party. 

Johnson lived in a small house with 3 other roommates, all girls, all in relationships with big, brutish footballers. There was Kayla, the half Mexican, half Italian Psychology student, who dated a boy that seemed to only have the same amount of brain cells one could count using their hands alone. She liked to be alone more often than not, but when she was around she was rather talkative and brought interesting conversation to the table, and Johnson didn’t mind when she came down in the morning in her booty shorts and crop top. Next there was Tilly, a petit, bubbly extrovert who was rather plump but adored every aspect about herself regardless what any drunk punters might tell her. She reminded them off a chubbier bubbles from Power Puff Girls. She dated a guy who was captain of the football, rugby and cricket team at his university, but was deeply ashamed to have a geek obsession with Doctor Who and the video game Dead Rising. Finally, there was Edana. She was the one Johnson got on with the most and more than often spent long nights going into the morning just talking to her. She had long red hair, all the way down to the small of her back, and freckles dusting over her nose as if they had infected her. A true celtic girl from her appearance down to the way she could hold a drink. She did language studies at the same university as Trevor and Kendra, along with her boyfriend, who played nothing but American baseball and talked about American food. Johnson wasn’t dying to date her, but he did envy that a half wit like her boyfriend ever landed someone as amazing as Edana.

It was a pleasant place to call home, especially since Alix was there more than half the time, eating Johnson’s food and making them watch Storage Hunters. He wouldn’t dare have it any other way though. He wouldn’t want to give up being in the company of his best friend for anything, because being with Alix was amazing. Johnson loved just being around him, he’d never been able to connect to someone so quickly before, and he truly felt like he could trust Alix with anything he worried about. The house felt too quiet and lonesome without him there. Even if they were both just sitting in silence, Johnson would still be grateful for merely being in his company.

As soon as Alix finishes at the clinic, he rushes home, showers, and runs to Johnson’s to set up and tell him all about it. 

“So, what will the hormones do?” Johnson asks after the extensive explanation Alix had given him about the appointment, mid way mixing a couple of drinks to make a punch. 

“Make me a man.”

“Okay, more specifically?”

“It does’t matter what they do specifically, as long as they do what they’re supposed to I’m happy!”

“Okay,” Johnson screws the lid on one of the drinks, thinking for a second, “Are they safe?”

“Yeah. I mean, you know, there’s risks and shit like with any medication, and I might have symptoms and stuff but it’s all good really.”

“Symptoms?”

Alix takes a vodka bottle and pours it into the bowl, watching the orange coloured liquid splash. “I don’t know, throwing up, headaches, mood swings- shit like that. Realx Jonny! It’s all fine in the long run.” He hands the bottle back to Johnson and smiles. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

Johnson was ecstatic for Alix if it meant him being happy finally. He was over the moon delighted at the idea of his best friend being comfortable with himself after too long wallowing in the depression of no identity, but he felt an odd sense of edge that made him nervous. He couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was apprehensive toward Alix’s transition, but there was something small deep inside him that wanted to protest against it. Was it because it was so foreign to him? A whole new world he’d never experienced or researched before, being very real in the life of his friend. It was hard to understand, but Johnson tried to focus more on the part of him that was happy. The more important part that would keep Alix happy with his decision.

“Of course bud. If this is what you want, why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Alix clicks his fingers as he walks out the room, getting his cans of beer from his backpack to put in the fridge. “True that. I’m so happy. I just want to get on with it already, you know? Agh, I feel so genuinely happy now! The happiest I’ve been in months!”

Johnson watched as Alix beamed with dreamy wonderment and pride, practically bouncing as he walked, and it made his heart flutter ever so slightly. The infectious sunny exterior brightened his own mood, he wished this moment could last forever. As Alix put the beers in the fridge, Johnson started setting up a table for beer pong, but kept watching his friend closely, with intrigue. 

Alix wasn’t feminine, he made sure to cover up any trace there may be, but...was he going to be completely unrecognisable after a few months on testosterone? Was his personality going to shift? Was everything going to change with the passing months providing more confidence in his friend? He knew he shouldn’t care so much, because none of it really effected him, but the nagging thoughts popped up every so often to irritate him. Alix was going to become more himself while simultaneously straying from himself, and Johnson didn’t know what he’d do in a few months time. 

He had never hit it off with someone so quickly like he had with Alix, and the idea he may lose him terrified him. He knew that if Alix got on with his life, happily and comfortable, Johnson could learn to be happy, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t cautious. 

Alix won’t change, he told himself repeatedly. Alix will still be Alix, just with a new body and more confidence. Alix won’t change. He can’t change.

“Shall we do a tequila shot while we wait for people to show?” Alix asks, holding up shot glasses and smirking mischievously.

Johnson sighs, falling into a worn out smile. “Definitely.”

-

Bianca couldn’t go alone. She refused to see Courtney without back up close by.

Kendra was one thing- fiery, gorgeous, and the toughest girl she’d ever had the pleasure to befriend, but she wasn’t enough in this case. She needed someone that would make Courtney green with envy. She needs to be seen basking in the joy of new romance, freshly baked in red hot kisses and smelling of animalistic sex. It’s her personalised middle finger, sugar coated in pettiness. Courtney would see Bianca happily hooked on someone else, and she’d feel the same soul crushing sensation she had.

Zara, wearing skinny low rider jeans and a Nirvana crop top, her hair glossed and silky, flowing freely down her back, and her heated daggers pierced anyone who dared to set their sights on her flawless appearance. She was elegant and desirable like a tall glass of wine, and Bianca knew that being in her company would drive Courtney insane. Harriet on the other side of Zara, her curled hair in a high ponytail, bright pink lipstick and a skirt to match. She was like a babydoll dressed by a hooker, but she wore it with such refined confidence no one could touch her. Then of course there was Kendra, arm linked with Bianca’s as they strutted toward the house.

“It was nice of you to invite us along, Bianca!” Harriet said as they approached the door, knocking. She messed around with the rim of her boob-tube, her cleavage heavy and bouncing. “I hope I’m not over dressed.”

“Oh, you are, but you look fucking amazing, babe.” Zara reassured, putting her arm around Harriet’s shoulder and kissing her on the temple. Harriet’s face lit up as her dimples professed their glee, and she started playing with her ponytail in a fuss to look utterly perfect. 

“So,” Kendra nudged Bianca, “What’s your master plan then? Make out with Zara to get back at Courtney?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Bianca scoffed. “I’m going to make out with Zara because she’s fucking hot. And, if Courtney sees, it’s just a coincidence, you know?”

Kendra gave her a concerned look, crossing her arms, but Zara shrugged, laughing. “I’m honoured to be apart of this devious plan. Bianca’s a good kisser, so what’s wrong with indulging in a little fun in the name of...you know, making someone jealous?”

Bianca cackled, shoving Zara playfully. Before Kendra could interject her disapproval again, the door opened and there stood a pleasantly drunk Alix cheering, holding a plastic cup of presumably what was beer. His hair was an erratic tousled mess and he had panda eyes where he’d smudged his eyeliner, but there wasn’t a trace of care on his face. His face was glowing, and he grabbed Bianca’s hand and dragged her in.

“You cunt, where the fuck have y’all been?!” He laughed, turning to the other three girls and giving them all tight hugs as he squealed in delight. “Come on, go to the kitchen and do a shot, you need to catch up!”

They definitely did. When they entered the scene there was about a dozen 20 something year old students lounging around, laughing obnoxiously loud or dancing out of time with the music. Danny was currently smoking a joint with some black haired goth girl while Trevor lay beside him, stroking a ginger cat that must have belonged to one of the girls that lived there. A collection of preppy girls were gathered on the sofa, giggling along with something Johnson was saying, competing between one another for his attention. Bianca walked through a scene of students playing ring of fire to get to the kitchen, and poured out four shots. 

Each girl held a glass in the air, ready to do the shot in solidarity to one another. “Let’s get fucking wasted.” Bianca announced, to which they all cheered, clinking their tiny glasses and downing the fiery drink. They all cringed as a reaction, but laughed all the same. 

“I’m doing another.” Zara said, grabbing the tequila bottle and pouring herself another shot. She waved the glass at the other three, and to her surprise they all said yes. “Nice, I like girls that can drink hard.” 

It didn’t take long for the girls to start spilling tipsy stories over one another, giggling and drinking as fast as possible despite the gagging sensation tickling the back of their throat. Harriet was sat on the kitchen counter top, swinging her legs as she laughed uncontrollably at something Kendra said, and Zara and Bianca were leaning out the back door smoking, somehow deep in a serious conversation.

“Your folks kicked you out?” Bianca said in shock, mouth wide as the other girl nodded, smiling despite the statement. 

“I mean, they took me back a week later and apologised, but yeah. My father was islamic so for him it was too much to have a lesbian for a daughter, you know? He’d been taught that homosexuality was a sin, and his first instinct was to kick me out. My mum was just afraid of going up against him, but she came to her senses as did he, and the rest is history.”

“Still.” Bianca took a drag of her cigarette, holding in the fizzling burn that festered at the pit of her lungs, and blew the smoke out above her head before finishing her thought. “That’s gotta suck.”

“Yeah, well obviously! I went to live with Harriet though so it wasn’t all bad. Her mum was really cool.” Zara tapped her cigarette against her finger, putting it back to her mouth and inhaling. “What about you?” She asked, smoke pouring from her lips. “What are you horror stories with coming out?”

“Oh, not much.” Bianca smirked, throwing her burnt out fag on the floor and crossing her arms. “Mom and dad were kind of shocked but totally cool. My brother’s gay so he pretty much softened the blow for when I came out.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah. My family were totally accepting. My friends, not so much.”

Zara raised her brow. “Oh?”

Bianca pondered on the memories for a second, looking into Zara’s dark, ebullient eyes, and saw a generosity of genuine curiosity she hadn’t found before. Someone who wanted to know, so they could care and relate. “Yeah, I don’t know why exa-”

“BIANCA!” A sudden girlish squeal shattered the bound they shared. She looked round to find the voice, and there was the person who made her heart seize in a fright. Courtney, smiling vivaciously as she skipped over and threw her open arms at Bianca. She squeezed her tight, still making childish excited noises while Bianca tried to keep her balance and composure having seen the one person she’d dreaded seeing. Zara caught Bianca’s panicked eyes and gave her an annoyed look before walking away and joining Harriet. “Oh my God, Bianca, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m friends with Alix too.” She pulled out of the hug and stood back from Courtney, trying not to look too happy to see her. Courtney was positively ecstatic to see Bianca, unable to stop moving, and her smile stretched like elastic from cheek to cheek. 

Courtney felt bubbly, standing in front of Bianca after so long without seeing her. She’d missed the dimples, and her pillowy lips, and her curvy hips. She looked just as beautiful tonight as she always did, and maybe it was after her chat with Danny or it was the multiple jager bombs she’d done when walking into the house, but she felt delightfully light in her presence. She could reach forward and fly into the heavens with Bianca, hand in hand, heart to heart. 

“I really missed you, B.” Courtney admits, leaning against the door and unapologetically fluttering her heart eyes. “A lot. How was your Christmas?”

Could have been better given you called me up like a dick teasing cunt and told me some bullshit. How about we talk about the floozy you made out with that you had no shame in telling me all about, huh? 

Of course, she didn’t say any of that. Bianca gritted her teeth in protest to her thought, and shrugged. “It was okay. Yeah.” She looked over to Zara, seeing her smiling with Harriet, pushing her hair behind her ear and somehow always able to come across effortlessly free spirited, even in the most mundane moment. Bianca couldn’t help but look at her like she was a great piece of art work, needing only the upmost, focused attention, and she craved to feel the paint of her soul wet on her skin. It was a purely lustrous desire, clean of any romance or dedication, and dripping with sensuality. 

When she looked back at Courtney, she felt deep within her bones it was so much more than what she felt for Zara. She felt a pain that was as addictive as heroine, and tasted like gold, and she was completely, whole heartedly obsessed with the feeling that all she craved was relief. Courtney’s snowy face, her humble eyes, her pink lips- everything made Bianca quiver with such maddening need. It was going to kill her in the end, she knew it, like everyone else knew, but to pretend like she could stay away from her was comical.

Courtney was as present in Bianca as the oxygen in her lungs. 

“Did you have fun in Australia?” She asked, dreading the answer, regretting wasting her breath on the question. Courtney nodded enthusiastically, reaching into the fridge beside Bianca and taking out a cold cider. 

“It was pretty good,” She took the bottle cap of the counter, popping open the bottle. “I liked seeing all my friends, course they haven’t changed! My friends, Willam and Violet, decided to take me to a gay bar for New Years Eve that was like an hour away! We stayed at this totally run down motel and Violet threw up in the already disgusting pool they had, but it was so fun! I didn’t even realise I missed them so much until I saw them all, you know?”

Bianca couldn’t say she did, but nevertheless she nodded. Bianca didn’t have any friends she missed in America, or at least none she knew would be happy to see her if she went home. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

Courtney smiled, taking a sip of her cider before offering Bianca a swig. She accepted, drinking more than Courtney had but remembering not to be too cheeky with her generosity. When she handed the bottle back, Courtney accidentally caught her hand, and as her finger tips grazed the bumps of Bianca’s knuckles, a singing spark ignited between them. Blazing forrest fires mercifully devoted to destroying innocence, bravely caught between the skin on skin contact they held. Courtney’s eyes lifted in time to Bianca’s, and they looked at each other like this was the first time they’d ever met; completely struck on the beat of hope, but Bianca’s with less wishful thinking. Courtney’s gorgeous eyes, like an ocean, slowly killing Bianca the same slow, painful way drowning does. 

“Sorry.” Bianca pulled her hand away, playing with her hair and avoiding eye contact. This is too hard, she thought, suddenly overwhelmed with a sickly feeling. She wanted to be around Courtney, but she couldn’t. It was too fucking hard, seeing her all smiles and no remorse. “I have to go ask Zara something.”

“Oh.” Courtney was still all smiles, looking over at the girl in question. “Yeah, of course. I’ll catch you in a bit!”

Bianca didn’t waste another second pining over her. She practically fell at Zara in her haste, catching onto her arm as she regained her balance. Zara stumbled slightly, but laughed nevertheless as she helped the girl get back on her feet, and then laughed a little more at the deer caught in head lights expression Bianca held. 

“Woah there, Bambi.” She put her arm around Bianca’s waist, pulling her close and handing her a poured out drink of vodka coke. “Get this down you, fast!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll need it. I saw how little miss perfect made your skin itch. A whole night of close calls will require a lot of liquid confidence.”

Bianca looked at the drink before downing it as fast as possible, cringing as her reflexes kicked in, and she was gagging over the strength. She scrunched her eyes as tight as possible till all she could see was stars, and everything in that moment felt infinite; the worst sickness in a single second stretching over the mirage of forever. 

Zara ran her hand up and down Bianca’s back, watching her as she cringed and collected her composure. She shakes away the shudder coming over her spine and hops from foot to foot, and Zara finds it ever so endearing. Cheeks flushed, eyes blank and shrunken, face full of new found wonderment.

“Okay, that was strong. Fuck, get me another.” Bianca demands, grinning mischievously, and Zara wastes no time in grabbing her another cup and drink. She was hoping, with a little persuasion and a lot seductive drunken dancing, she’d end up in the same situation with Bianca as she had a few days ago.

-

It wasn’t a raging house party, by any measure. Not the type that gets over thrown with rowdy teenagers and fights, but rather it’s a “gathering” in which everyone attending gets incredibly drunk in the company of good friends. There’s a few unfamiliar faces but no one outrageous, and everyone is in high spirits. 

Bianca, Kendra and Trevor take themselves upstairs to Johnson’s bedroom, as he gives Kendra a hoodie to warm up in and the other two coo over them, embracing each other dramatically and laughing as they slow dance together. Johnson and Kendra laugh along, a little more lost in each other than the mocking of their friends. Danny and Alix drag them back downstairs eventually to play a game. Everyone sits in a circle on the living room floor, and there’s an empty bottle in the middle of them all. As Bianca sits beside Zara, she’s bombarded by Courtney’s arms around her neck and then spinning to sit the other side, still wide eyed and delightfully sunny. Bianca, now significantly drunker and looser, smiled back warmly, biting her lip and batting Courtney’s ponytail playfully, making her giggle.

“Please tell me this isn’t spin the bottle.” Kendra laughs, watching as Alix sits down with his Absolute vodka and cranberry juice beside him, smirking devilishly at her. 

“Truth or dare, yeah. Don’t be a pussy about it, Kendra.”

She widened her eyes, cocking her jaw and laughing as he gave her a challenging look. “You’re on, Joker. I’ll do anything thrown my way.”

Alix snickered, grabbing the empty bottle and spinning it. “We’ll see about that.”

The glass bottle span, slightly tittering out of its spot, and soon the sound of the glass scrapping the floor came to a stop and the neck landed on Danny. He looked up at Alix and jerked his brows, clicking his tongue before cockily saying “Dare. Hit me with the worst you got.”

It started with Danny having to give someone a strip tease - “Not Trevor, that would be too easy!” - he chose Courtney, who squealed almost the whole time with her hands unsure where to stay, but Danny threw himself around without an ounce of shame. Next was Alix, in which he was dared to call someone randomly on his phone and talk dirty to them. Of course it had to end up being Sarah, the girl who was madly in love with him. Trevor is next and ops for Truth. 

“How far have you and Danny gone?”

He turns bright red and nervously answers “Uh, not very. We’ve made out, and, like, almost done stuff, but...” Danny pulls him in to his chest, kissing his temple and winking at Alix who had asked, consoling his embarrassed boyfriend. Then Kendra was dared to swap her clothes with someone, and taking the opportunity as it arose, she picked Johnson to strip off and reveal all before squeezing into her glittery purple sheet top and booty shorts. She sat in his torn skinny jeans and red flannel shirt, winking at him as he grinned devilishly toward her, letting her hair down and fall around her face.

Everyone was having a ball, laughing wildly and drinking way more than their livers could probably handle. Then the bottle landed on Courtney, and the girl Lavender, one of Johnson’s roommates friends, watched her as Courtney chewed over her two options. 

“Go on, I’ll do a dare.”

Courtney figured it would be nothing less than taking off her top and running around the neighborhood screaming, or downing a disgusting drink that would probably make her throw up. She didn’t care what it was, she was already flying away on the ride that was her ecstatic intoxicated high, awaiting her fait from the random girl she didn’t know.

“Um, okay. I dare you to...kiss, the most attractive person?”

Everyone laughed a little, looking between one another, but Courtney took the order like an instinct and every nerve ending in her body alighted as she turned to Bianca, holding the side of her face as she pressed her lips tenderly against the other girls. She could feel the tense knots in Bianca from just her lips, but she was too far gone. The world around them had gone quiet and all her senses had shut down other than the will to kiss and the need to feel it in return. 

Bianca was shocked, but she had missed this feeling like she was missing a lung. The fireworks in her head, or the melting of her veins, where every feeling became one and all she knew was to kiss. She took the back of Courtney’s head, wanting her to fall into her arms and beg for her, tell her how much she needed Bianca. Her thin lips felt so soft, and she wanted to memorise that feeling, store it away forever and never let it slip away, in fear that she’d never be granted the greatest feeling ever again. 

Courtney pulled away, staring into Bianca’s eyes. The blown up black of her chocolaty eyes, twinkling with shock, all Courtney had to do was whisper how she felt and Bianca would be putty in her hand. All she had to do was kiss her again and tell her everything she was hiding away, and there’d be no more heartache and fake smiles...

She laughed instead, falling against Bianca’s shoulder. She could feel the other girl’s body stiff with nerves, but she lay long enough to let the horror of the false pretence fall, so she could look at her again without feeling her chest hurt. Everyone started laughing around them, and soon all Bianca could do was laugh, if not to hide her real emotions but to save herself. 

Courtney pushed herself up, baring her pearly teeth at Bianca. “Of course you’re the most attractive person, B. Your sense of humour with that hair, how could anyone resist?”

Bianca nodded shyly, turning away as fast as possible to grab her drink and sipped it, facing Zara. There, the only face in the room not amused at all but more irritated if anything, glaring at Courtney before meeting Bianca’s eyes and letting her expression fade into something resembling pity. 

“Well,” Alix looked around before stumbling to his feet, “this feels like a perfect time for tequila shots.”

Everyone cheered and stood up, apart from Bianca. She found herself slowing down as time sped past, feeling like she could physically feel the seconds cut up her skin and infect her blood. She hated this feeling, the pining for a girl who either was ridiculously naive or playing the game of beating her heart to a pulp, because which ever result it was ended the same way. Bianca alone, frustrated, and overly emotional. She sat in the middle of the room, eyes glued to the spot of dust under the sofa, and threatened herself to keep it together, for the sake of her sanity and reputation.

Not now, Del Rio. You didn’t let Jinxy get to you, you didn’t let Vivianne break you, so you won’t let Courtney hurt you either. Keep it together. This is just life. Growing up, sweat the small stuff and move on. You’re going to get up, get a drink, and pretend you’re not-

“Bianca.” A soft call shook her out of her state, and Bianca’s head whipped round to face the delicate features of Harriet, smiling and holding a glass of clear liquid. “Here, I got you some water. You look kind of sick?”

“Oh, jeeze, I’m fine.” She staggered to her feet, leaning on Harriet for support. “That’s nice of you though.”

Harriet shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to throw up.” She clears her throat, looking around awkwardly before continuing. “You know, I don’t want to meddle, but I think Zara really likes you.”

Bianca’s throat went dry, eyes shooting open. “Really? I mean, that’s cool. She’s a cool chick.”

Harriet nibbled her bottom lip, looking behind herself to see Zara talking to Kendra and Trevor. “Yeah. But uh, I hope it’s okay to ask...but, you uh, you’re not into her, are you?”

“Well, I like her. I do, I...I really love her company-”

“But you’re in love with Courtney?”

Bianca stood still as the words shot her spine like lightening. The stutters of her mind seemed stuck on her tongue, tying her words around each other. “No, I don’t love her.” She ground down on her teeth, sighing as the pressure clung to her chest. “It’s complicated. But trust, me and her, are never going to happen.” She honestly believed it, despite how much it hurt to admit. 

“Yeah, sure, sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“No, Harriet. It’s fine. You’re just looking out for your friend.” Bianca rubs her arm affectionately, smiling thankfully. “I like Zara, I do. I wouldn’t want to hurt her, but I don’t think either of us are looking for anything serious.”

Harriet tilts her head, humming. “All I’ll say is I’ve never seen her put in this much effort for someone. Zara usually gets in, gets out. But you...” Harriet, shrugs, “it’s food for thought, is all. I’m sorry.”

Bianca nods, a little dizzy from the whiplash of emotions. “No, it’s okay.” Before she could say anymore, Zara bounces over with Kendra and Trevor, handing Bianca another drink and teasing Harriet for insinuating anyone needed water. 

Everyone resumes their normal mood, dancing and laughing like 20 something year olds are programmed to do, but Bianca doesn’t feel the same. She’s suddenly overwhelmed by all the scattered fragments that might make up coherent thoughts, and she can’t seem to focus her attention on anything other than what her heart is trying to convey to her mind.

She blinks rapidly, about to walk out the room for some space and maybe fresh air, when suddenly she’s spun back into the action and as if sent by God himself to further send her in a spiral of confusion, it’s Courtney. The blonde bombshell dancing seductively, innocently, just wanting Bianca’s attention and devotion in this drunken moment. Bianca is able to muster up a smile, swaying her hips to the beat and keep Courtney content for the moment that is killing her slowly. This girl, face pale and shimmering in the glow of no cares, with her lips still a little swollen from their kiss, unintentionally mocking Bianca’s feelings with her lack of understanding. 

Then Courtney turns around and presses her body close to Bianca’s, holding her hair over her shoulder and moving in time with the music and her lustful wonders. It was unexpected, and as dramatic as it was, it felt deadly to the intoxicated self that was Bianca’s unrequited soul.

Bianca watched with wide eyes, feeling the literal hearts form in her pupils as the girl of her hottest desires pushed against her front, bending down and wiggling her bum against Bianca. Courtney giggled, with flushed innocence as the music took her away, but Bianca’s blood rushed feverishly through her veins as she felt her body hit by a heat wave.

She wanted to grab her by the hips and dance to the rhythm of Courtney’s body, but it was too risky. She knew her instincts, she knew her feelings, and she knew how far she’d take it. This wasn’t just some random girl who’d had too much to drink- this was Courtney, naively playing a dangerous game that everyone was well aware off. Bianca shuffled backward, still dancing and laughing to keep a cool attitude, then when Courtney sprung up straight, throwing her hair back, she took the girls hand and laughed harder.

“You need water, bitch. You’re totally wasted!”

“Of course.” Courtney pulled Bianca in, holding her secure by the small of her back as her eyes fell to her lips. “Aren’t we all?”

Bianca never felt so sober in her life. Her heart racing like a cheetah as she tried to maintain herself. Courtney’s bubble eyes growing close to popping, Bianca seemed to always fall into the perpetual pining of her desires that Courtney seemed to toy with too much. Was she really so naive she had blocked out everything from before? Their first, wild kiss in the dark of the club, or the sensual touches in her bed, or every longing gaze they both pretended meant nothing? Here she was, with Courtney unintentionally ogling her cleavage, and despite what her pained needs craved, she wanted nothing more than to be out of the situation. She couldn’t keep dealing with her emotions flailing around like a rag doll.

Before anything further could happen, Kendra jumped in and linked her arm with Bianca’s, and Danny wrapped his arms around Courtney’s waist, separating the two girls. Courtney was none the wiser, twirling around Danny still giggling. Bianca however was confused, detangling from Kendra when they got to the kitchen.

“You need something?” She asked, a slight laugh in her tone as she stared at her quizzically. Kendra crossed her arms, shaking her head.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Del Rio, and you know it.”

“Hay, I wasn’t doing anything. She was all over me! I was trying to get away!” Kendra cocked her brow, unbelieving. Bianca scoffed. “I was!”

“Alright. What the hell is she doing then? Why is she all over you like a hot rash?”

“I haven’t a fucking clue. I mean, I guess we’re usually kind of flirty-”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“But I don’t know, last time she was like this was when we were drunk. Maybe it’s a drinking thing.” Bianca shrugged, turning to the kitchen counter and pouring herself another drink. “This isn’t easy, you know, resisting that bitchy tease.”

“For someone so fond of her, you sure do like to pick insulting nicknames.”

Bianca smirked, sipping her drink. She looked out into the living room and there was Courtney, now with her arms around both Danny and Alix as she sang obnoxiously. Bianca huffed. “What am I supposed to do, Kendra? We’re friends, I like her, both as a friend and as more. I can’t ignore her.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bianca.”

Bianca rolled her eyes, shoving Kendra playfully. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy. I’m fine. You know me, I’m like a cat, I always land on my feet and I’ve got like nine lives!”

“Yeah? Well you’re running out, Catwoman. Courtney’s going to break your heart if you’re not careful.” Kendra warned, giving Bianca a knowing look before walking out the room.

Bianca took a deep breath, before letting out a loud grunt of frustration, and slapped her forehead repeatedly. She wished Kendra wasn’t right, just once she wished she could laugh in her face and strut about victorious. 

This time, Bianca practically ran through the living room and up the stairs, letting out a relieved sigh when she found Johnson’s bedroom and the door was shut off from the rest of civilisation downstairs. She stood with her back pressed against the door for a few seconds, before falling to the man’s bed and letting her stress leave her body.

Recap: Bianca was undeniably, shamefully obsessed with Courtney and doing everything in her will power to forget the fact she wanted her so bad, while Courtney was denying there was ever anything between them all the while shamelessly teasing her like there was a chance. Then there was Zara, a totally sexy tattooist who was too cool for words and too punk to function, that for some unknown reason was really into Bianca, and they had hooked up drunkenly at a party that no one knew about. 

“Fuck.” Bianca cursed, her hands covering her face as the facts began to pour down upon her like lashing rain. She threw her arms either side her. They smacked the mattress harder than expected, the weight lost in the fog of too much alcohol, and Bianca was left with the heaviness in her wrists splitting open her veins.

She felt vulnerable, and for Bianca, that was the worst imaginable scenario. It had become all too familiar lately, and she was growing tired of welcoming it with open arms. She was fed up of thinking about how nice it felt to kiss Courtney. She was fed up of thinking about how her heart skipped a beat with every hello they exchanged. She was fed up of waiting around for the confused girl who was never going to give in to how she felt. Bianca had gone through those awkward years of being unsure, she didn’t want to add on more just for the sake of it.

So, what was it she wanted? On an obvious level, it was Courtney. There was no point ignoring the elephant of her thoughts, but that elephant’s gold was peeling off to reveal a snake. The other side had an open door with Zara holding the door, freeing and available, and that idea was somewhat of a comfort. 

Courtney had lied to her too. She had been with a girl- or, she had history with a girl, a stranger in Bianca’s world. When they met at Roobux, when all the complications began, Courtney had lied and told her she had no interest in women. Bianca had been tortured herself with the humiliation of falling for a straight girl, when maybe she hadn’t. Zara had never lied. Zara was a lesbian, and she’d taken care of Bianca when she needed her most; so why was it all so complicated even in theory?

The colours of Johnson’s room became blurred, with the lines intertwining and becoming merely another dull inevitable, closing Bianca’s lines of communication with peace and frustration. She was left in the silence, with just her heartbeat to comfort her, unsuccessfully. 

“H-hay Bianca?” A mousey voice crept through, breaking Bianca’s aura. She sat up and saw Courtney, timidly entering the room and staying stuck with her back to the door. Bianca resisted the urge to groan in annoyance.

“What’s up, blondie?”

Something had switched dramatically since a few minutes ago. The outrageous kid that was living in her prime, was now hunched in on herself, nervously avoiding any eye contact. Bianca quizzically watched how Courtney shyly sat on the edge of the bed, looking as if she might throw up.

“I need to say that I’m sorry.” She stopped, finally looking up to meet Bianca’s eyes and taking a deep breath. “I am so sorry for what I did over Christmas. Calling you and interrupting your good time.”

“What?” Bianca laughed. “It’s not a problem-”

“No, it is. I can’t avoid it. I won’t do that to you again, because last time it almost killed me to avoid you.” Courtney tucked her bottom lip in-between her teeth and took another deep breath, as if she was constantly on the verge of running dry. Bianca was suddenly struck with a gloomy ambience, feeling her heart be squeezed by the presence of Courtney, visibly distressed, because of her.

“I don’t understand where this is all coming from, Court. You were fine 5 minutes ago-”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m here now, telling you I’m sorry. I need you to know, Adore doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Bianca’s face fell, deadpan. She didn’t speak, she just sat silent, listening.

“She use to mean so much to me, yes. I still care about her deeply and I want to make up for all the shit I did to her some day, but...I don’t like her anymore, not like that...not romantically.” Courtney stuttered, sniffing back the tears that were slowly creeping though. Bianca moved her hand to rest on Courtney’s knee, but her face didn’t even twitch.

“Courtney...”

“I’ve probably fucked you off too many times, and you keep forgiving me for some unknown reason. I...I don’t mean to be such a disaster. But, the thing is Bianca. I...” She looked deep into Bianca’s eyes, and everything she wanted to say suddenly dissolved; she was drunk on the diluted colours of Bianca’s dark glimmering eye. Bianca stared back just as hard, awaiting the words she knew would never come. She held onto the speck of hope like it would revive her after death, and took the life from Courtney’s open mouth. What was happening? Why was Courtney saying any of this? The two sat in the quiet, gazing upon the lost ambition of what they both kept hidden from the light of day.

Courtney swallowed, a tear finally falling down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or ruin your Christmas or-”

“Hay,” Bianca finally smiled warmly, holding Courtney’s cheeks and brushing away the rogue tear. “Please don’t apologise for that. It wasn’t a problem, really. You were probably still a little drunk and just, telling your friend the shit that went down. We’ve all been there.” She lied, hoping her smile was convincing enough to denying that hearing about Courtney kiss another girl didn’t break her heart a little. “You’re such a messy drunk, blondie. Look at you,” Bianca sat back, chucking, “how many times have I had to console you after a few too many drinks, huh?”

Courtney sniffed, snickering lightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no more tears, for fuck sake. No more sorry’s either, okay? You’re just being emotional because your drunk. I’m not mad at you for anything.”

Courtney sighed, knowing Bianca was lying, but nodded nevertheless. She wasn’t going to win this, and she was fine with it. As long as Bianca knew she meant no harm. “You mean so much to me, you know that?” Courtney told her, as the corner of her lip finally lifted. “If I ever piss you off, just tell me, okay?”

Bianca knew she couldn’t keep that promise. She knew that this charade was going to continue for a long time, despite what they both wanted: peace. How was she supposed to tell Courtney she was annoyed at her for kissing another girl when they were both so adamant on pretending everything was completely fine between them? She couldn’t muster up the strength to tear her apart, tell her how much it pained her not to kiss her, because to go through the days without Courtney was a life she didn’t want. She wanted to feel the agonising twisting in her gut if it meant she got to just talk to Courtney. She was caught in a catch 22, but sometimes that’s just life.

Bianca had been through the waves of distress, she could do it again.

“Of course. Come here.” She took Courtney in for a hug and all the agony sprang to life in a single second, taking every nerve in her body like a prisoner. She held on Courtney with everything she had, remembering the smell of her perfume, the feel of her skin, hoping it would all sink into her bones and she’d have her apart of her forever. Courtney is so soft, Bianca thought, burying her face in her shoulder and letting the moment overwhelm her own drunken emotions. 

Courtney wanted to tell Bianca everything, but she couldn’t. All she could do was hold her, and hope the fire would die out soon.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.”

“Okay...sorry.”

Bianca laughed. That’s all she could do anymore, otherwise she might go insane. Keep laughing and the world keeps turning.

#bitney #ss #AU: Satire sexuality #original #fic

[nosakkayuuma]

Year-End Fic Round-Up and Meme

2017 Fanfiction Round-Up (Template adapted from https://trey.dreamwidth.org/584.html!) My AO3 page! Total Year-Long Wordcount: AO3 tells me 18,160. Actually about 4200 of those were written last year but at this point I will take what I can get, so, Genghis Khan, you belong to 2017 now. Also, I wrote a whole ton of words in draft form, but it doesn’t count until it gets published, so I guess this year’s work will bolster next year’s (fingers crossed) word count!!

This year I wrote and posted: 6 whole new shiny fics!!! (OK, 5, because Genghis Khan was actually written by 23 December 2016 or so... but it’s near enough to 2017 that I’ll count it.) They’re all oneshots varying from 1.5k-4k in length, and fall in either the Inazuma Eleven or Saint Seiya fandoms. More under the cut~

Overall Thoughts Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted? I wrote a heck of a lot less than I thought. Should probably figure out how to write faster next year. I have been thinking of taking 1 day out of the 5-day workweek off for writing, but ultimately I think it’s either anime/manga/video games or writing which is not a fun thing to consider. This year, I have played a lot more video games, which I think is a great thing, but maybe not if it affects my writing (not saying that it does... correlation does not equal causation x)) What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Saint Seiya fits the closest, because even though I had started watching it by then it firmly fell (and still falls) in the category of fandoms where I don’t feel like there’s anything I can contribute. What's your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? It has to be What draws me to you. No contest. I feel like I just about put myself into a depressive funk for 2 weeks just writing it and it was really worth it. And, for once, the title came to me and I didn’t have to do silly Google tricks or listen to a million songs to come up with a title. Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? This year was so tame, I guess the biggest risk I took was in [redacted] (it is still not posted under my account due to being judged in a writing contest... but it is up, go look for it please) where I played around with nonlinear narratives... KIND OF. I guess I should take more risks next year, which I was already planning to do anyway but am definitely gonna do now! OKAY I went back to this because while I have mentally blocked out all the effort of working on [redacted] from my mind because it’s taking like four months to judge a contest and I’m a little frustrated... umm... I mean, anyway. I definitely thought long and hard about meta for once when writing it, and tried my hardest to make it so that readers had to put the pieces together to figure out what I was trying to do. One can say I was too subtle; honestly I’m not sure because there has not been a lot of feedback. Still, while it was a gruelling experience writing it, it was fun in the end, and the end result is pretty nice too. From my past year of writing, what was.... My best story of this year: What draws me to you My most popular story of this year: It was First Time according to hits, but that’s to be expected since the Saint Seiya fandom is a lot larger than the Inazuma Eleven fandom. Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: What draws me to you What draws me to you What draws me to you also [redacted] Most fun story to write: Okay to be honest, it was Peripeties, mostly because it was so fun to revisit the world of Renegade (my Fudou longfic about him between Shin Teikoku and Inazuma Japan) again and also think about what my convenience store gang OCs would be like a few years on. Antagonistic Fudou flowed so easily as well. Also I really enjoy thinking about Teikoku high school :^) Story with the single sexiest moment: I guess I’ll have to say [redacted], since there’s like, an established relationship in it which is probably the closest thing to sexy. I mean in Genghis Khan Someoka and Fubuki share a Look and in What draws me to you Fudou and Sakuma fucking hold hands. What more do you want from me!!! A kiss?! Most "Holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story: I guess that’s on my to-do list for next year. Actually, one of my WIPs (the one I wrote 20k words of notes/first draft during NaNoWriMo for but haven’t got around to refining) will have elements of that...  Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: Definitely A Request, because I never write Gouenji or Kidou so I learned quite a bit about them while writing it. Which is probably a hint that I should challenge myself next year lol.  Hardest story to write: I don’t remember any of them being particularly difficult to write, which is weird because when I eat my own cooking I remember how much effort I had to put in to make it (although the fact that there’s a much shorter wait between cooking and eating probably explains that). Probably What draws me to you. I obsessed over every word, I did so much research (but it was interesting reading), I focused so hard on the vague images in my mind and tried to translate them faithfully into text... Biggest Disappointment: I am not entirely satisfied with [redacted] which is probably a good thing. I don’t think it’s quite exactly what I wanted to write, but only minutely different. Biggest Surprise: I guess I didn’t realise how big (or HyoShun-starved?) the Saint Seiya fandom was until I posted First Time and watched the hits grow day by day. Most Unintentionally Telling Story: I already did all of that in Renegade so I guess being its sequel, Peripeties is probably it. Favorite Opening Line(s): When Raimon had been told that they would all be sent to various schools around Japan to serve on their reinforcement committee, Someoka had been over the moon. Finally, some real responsibility. Then they had told him that he was assigned to the boondocks. From Genghis Khan Favorite Closing Line(s): I mean I could pick any of my emotional punchlines or whatever but who am I kidding, it has to be from First Time. "Nii-san," Shun finally said. He took the potent cocktail from the counter and drank, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Whoever said we weren't?"  Favorite 5 Line(s) from Anywhere: His heartbeat quickened, and he was about to drop Fudou's hands, only to freeze as Fudou started to tug his fingers closer in with his own and intertwine them together. Their palms touched, and Sakuma felt the calloused skin where Fudou's fingers met his palm. He couldn't help but close his fingers around Fudou's cool hands and give them just one light, hesitant squeeze. The answering pressure sent Sakuma's heart madly aflutter, and Fudou flushed, complexion growing darker even as he stubbornly maintained eye contact. The two of them stared at each other for the shortest eternity, or was it the longest moment? To be honest, there were multiple contenders for this just from What draws me to you alone, but after a close fight this won. Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:  1. What draws me to you, New Year’s festival at the temple, Sakuma in a suit, Miyabino next to him, both staring at a rogueish corn vendor Fudou in a dark blue kimono who’s fanning the coals with a rolled up sheet of newspaper, to the orange backdrop of the setting sun. I WANT THIS SO BAD I CAN’T EVEN 2. The final punchline of First Time. Shun’s sly grin!!! 3. What draws me to you, Fudou and Sakuma holding hands and all around them is the flowy, fluffy white of sakura petals 4. The chicken nugget confrontation in Peripeties! 5. Sakuma being a badass in [redacted]. Shouldn’t be more specific than that but I don’t think there are many scenes of Sakuma being a badass in that fic anyway... Also I have to say that my friend Ro illustrated the shooting stars scene in Peripeties and it’s soooooooo. Good!! <3 Fic-writing goals for 2018: 1. Finish Real Illusions, my Souda- and Sonia-centric post-SDR2 [Super Danganronpa 2] fic. OHHHHHH MY GOD. I THOUGHT THIS YEAR WOULD BE THE YEAR SINCE DR3 /AND/ NDRV3 WERE BOTH RELEASED. APPARENTLY NOT. 2. Finish part 1 of Blind Sin AU, and also think of a title for it instead of constantly calling it Blind Sin AU all the time, I guess. 3. Finish Redemption? To be honest I want to focus equally on original next year so I’m not exactly going to write 20 fics or anything like that. 4. Oh, yes. Try to push myself by writing characters, situations, styles, structures etc. I’m not familiar with.

#writing #my stuff #writing meme