A Touch of Preference

 As a pansexual, there are a lot of ways to find attractiveness in people. With no gender locking me down there's always something I notice about people. There are certain traits I particularly find attractive in people, and so that's what I'm starting out with. Now, there's are lots of different genders, but feminine traits and masculine traits tend to be in a majority of them (i.e.; excluding gender-neutral or gender-gray people). -That said, for this list I'm just labeling the masculine and feminine traits under "Guy" and "Girl".

 Yeah, I hope you got that. Well, a easier way to put it would be; I'm documenting what I currently find attractive in girls & boys. Mm.

 Girls:
 1. Affectionate (sometimes).
 2. Ranging body types, specifically the built kind.
 3. Personalities. Intelligent, sassy, humorous, you name it. Obviously guys' have personalities, but usually not the same types as some girls.
 4. Generally pretty! If there's one thing I do enjoy about more feminine people, it's that they're simply very beautiful!

 Boys:
 1. Rougher (usually), and masculine (usually).
 2. Deep voices.
 3. Facial hair (5 o-clock shadows omg).
 4. Charming personalities.
 5. They usually take the lead, which would be different (for me) then dating a girl.

 That roughly sums things up. I'd elaborate, but just typing that is making me feel kind of disgusting. 'Just seems shallow. There's nothing wrong with liking certain traits, but it's late and I have a feeling all of that came out wrong.

 But anyway, moving on.

 The reason I brought this up is because I'm getting into high school soon, and there'll be a lot of new people there. I'd really love to date someone (but after all, who doesn't?) and it's just been on my mind. Although I really don't know how easy it'll be with my looks.

 Like I said in a earlier post, I recently got my hair cut. Well, I'm getting it cut again. Yeah, that's right. Again. It's silly because it really isn't necessary, but the way it is now bothers me. It only looks good 2/6 of the time, and when it doesn't look good it really looks mangy. Or at least in my opinion. So I'm getting the haircut I originally wanted, and you'll never guess who it originated from.

  ...

 It's Jensen Ackles you son of a biscuit.

Idle Functioning

 School starts in a little bit, and so far I'm not regretting the negligence I've shown towards catching up. Thing's have been going relatively good. No bad moods, and there have been quite a lot of things to keep me occupied. Nothing bad has happened in awhile, in fact, a few good things have popped up.

 I got my hair cut about two days ago. It's a lot shorter now, and since I had 10+ inches I got to donate it to a cancer wig fund. I'm still a bit touchy with the length, though. I'd prefer it a bit shorter, but at the end of the day it's better then that I had before. It feels nice to finally have cut it, especially since my only reason for growing it out in the first place is gone. Well, not exactly. I'm still a bit fuzzy on that part.

 But anyway, as this post I found on Tumblr says...

Cutting off hair in ancient Asia (Japan, china, Korea & possibly some other Asian cultures) symbolizes being banished or rejected from their home. In the more modern age that is now, cutting long hair into a short cut means to forget the past, leaving the old and starting anew.

Goodnight, Lisa Weyer (1)

 "It was hot, and Lisa Weyer, seventeen years old and fresh out of school, was one of the few kids relaxing in her house watching old horror movies.

 She was camped out on the couch she and her dad had bought earlier in the year in shorts and a tank top. Her short brown hair stuck to her scalp even though the AC was blasting. After the first few days of intense heat she'd started to suspect it was broken, but her dad was too tired to look at it.

 He worked the night shift as a security guard for a shipping yard and slept in most of the day. The only time they ever spent time together was during dinner, and after that he had to go. She was alone most of the time, which wasn't a problem for her.

 Lisa was a tough girl, physically and mentally. She played soccer and was on her high school's wrestling team, which made her more then a little fit.  As far as socializing, she wasn't what you'd call a loner. In fact, she had quite a circle of friends. But once school was out, most of them left the state for vacations. The only way she stayed in contact was through email.

***

 Even over the high-pitched wailing coming from the TV I could hear my laptop chime from upstairs. I grabbed the remote and paused the screen before slipping off the couch and heading for the stairs. I took a two at a time and turned the corner at the top to my room. The laptop was sitting on my desk and the screen was lit up with a new message.

 I pulled my chair out and sat in it, tapping the laptop mouse-pad and clicking on the message.

 "Inbox (3)"

 I sorted through some spam emails and a few responses from some friends before pulling away and starting back downstairs. Just as I stepped out of my bedroom the laptop chimed again. I turned on my heels and sat back down in the chair, resting my chin in my palm.

 "Inbox (1)"

 The subject was blank and I didn't recognize the email, but I opened it out of curiosity. The chance of it being spam was incredibly high but I did it anyway. When the wall of text loaded I narrowed my eyes for a second before shaking my head.

  It was blank and not even a sender was listed. I rolled my eyes and marked it as spam.

  I shut down the laptop and jogged back downstairs, staying planted on the couch until my dad came out a few hours later. He walked into the bathroom and started brushing his teeth while slipping into his uniform, looking exhausted. I jumped up to make him a few cups of coffee and called up to him.

 "Hey! What do you want me to make for dinner? We have pork steaks and macaroni, if you want." I poured the coffee into his favorite mug and grabbed the creamer.

 He groaned from the bathroom and I heard him spit into the sink. "Not enough time. Do we have cereal?"

 I set the coffee cup down and opened a few of our cabinets before pulling out a box of Cheerios. "Yeah, we have a box, but are you sure you don't want me to make you something else?"

 He walked into the kitchen and shook his head, sighing. "No, it's fine." He paused and looked at his watch before shaking his head again. "God damn... I'm already late."

 He spotted the coffee and gave me a tired smile before taking it and gulping it down. I shrugged and started taking out the ingredients for the pork steaks. "Well, I'm going to have one of these. Get some Mcdonalds or something, okay?"

 "Yeah, sure I'll try." He chuckled weakly and kissed my forehead before grabbing his wallet and car keys. "Don't stay up too late."

 I smiled. "Of course not."

 He walked out of the kitchen, the front door opening and closing behind him a few seconds later. I fixed up the rest of my pork steak and put it in the oven. It'd take at least 40 minutes before it was done so I brought my laptop down and sat at the island.

 I opened up my email again and saw that there was something in my inbox, and this time there was actually a sender listed. I didn't recognize who it was from but opened it anyway. Since summer break I hadn't gotten all my friend's information and the chances of it being one of them were pretty high.

 I started reading and squinted after the first few lines.

"dearest Lisa, 


 I've intensified to the point where waiting is no longer an option. Weve been friends for many years and I think now is the time to take things to the next level. youre my everything Lisa, and I can't stop this any longer. We'll meet soon.


i've been saving and I finally have enough money to come and visit you. I'll get ther e soon.. i've been staying awake at night because i'm so hapy about this. 


nothing will stop me. Nothing. Youre my soul mate and I promose you that everything will be ok.  
jack."

 Sent by smileyjack534@yahoo.com. I scoffed and deleted the email. People were really getting creative with the junk they spread out, and the fact that I didn't even know a Jack made it stupider. It didn't take a lot of thought to guess it was from another ridiculous dating site. The fact that it looked like it was written by a 10 year old only made it worse.

 I logged out of my email and surfed Youtube for a few hours then ate my pork steak and called a few of my friends before settling down and watching the original Dracula on the living room flat screen. It was around 11:48pm when my laptop chimed again and I opened up the flashing icon to see a IM request. I clicked on it and saw that it was from no other then smileyjack534.

 "What do you want..." I muttered, scratching my head then clicking on the "ACCEPT" button. As soon as I did the messager popped up.

  smileyjack534 Says: lisa.

  lisaW272 Says: Hey, sorry, but I don't know you. You have the wrong Lisa.

  smileyjack534 Says: youre

  smileyjack534 Says: lisa.

  smileyjack534 Says: i love you.

  lisaW272 Says: Look, I really don't know you. I'm sure you're a nice guy but stop bothering me.

  smileyjack534 Says: i love you lisa

  smileyjack534 Says: i'm coming to you

  smileyjack534 Says: we can be together.

  lisaW272 Says: No, we can't.

  smileyjack534 Says: we can

  smileyjack534 Says: lisa.

  lisaW272 Says: Alright buddy, blocking you.

 I rolled my eyes and blocked him. Whoever his actual Lisa was, I felt bad for her. The guy was a little more then creepy. I logged off and set my laptop on the island. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock.

 11:53pm.

 I groaned and slid off my chair, grabbing the laptop and going back upstairs to my bedroom. I set the laptop back on my desk and stripped, changing into my pajamas and climbing into bed.

 Just as my head hit the pillow I heard the laptop chime again. I opened one eye and rolled it before turning over and going to sleep.

***

 My alarm clock's regular screech woke me up at 6:00am on the dot. I went through my usual schedule and changed into my jogging outfit before going downstairs and making a cup of coffee.

 I finished it a few minutes later and set the mug in the kitchen sink for later, then left through the front door and started jogging down the sidewalk.

 Early morning was the only time during the day when it wasn't scorching, and since no one left their house until 10:00 I had the path all to myself. I turned the corner and started making my way down to the beach where I usually stopped. The trip took roughly twenty minutes.

 When my favorite bench came into view I sped up then stopped to sit in it. The bench had a great view of the beach and if I turned around the sunrise would be in full view.

 I caught my breath and turned around, hugging the back of the bench to my chest and looking up at the horizon. It was orange-y red and the sun was just starting to peak up. After awhile I had to squint and looked away when it got too bright.

 I took a few more deep breaths then stood back up, stretching and getting ready to jog back. Just as I was about to take off I heard footsteps and turned around.

 "Lisa! I thought I'd never catch you!" Neil panted like he'd been running for days. I started laughing and he waved his hands irritably. "Go on! Keep laughing! At least I'm trying."

 I covered my mouth and let out a few stray chuckles before answering. "What are you doing out here? It's six in the morning!"

 He rolled his eyes and sat down on the bench, grabbing his jersey and fanning himself with the extra material. "I wanted to run with you, but clearly I can't keep up with Seabiscuit herself."

 I pat him on the back and sat next to him. "You could have just called. I would've come and picked you up myself."

 He let out a sarcastic cackle and shook his head. "Lisa please, you're draining my masculinity with every word."

 I rolled my eyes and rubbed his shoulders while he got ahold of his breathing. "Come on, you're the picture of masculinity. If we looked close I bet you've even grown a few chest hairs."

 He laughed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter how much body hair I have, because in the end nothing compares to Lisa Weyer. But at least I get to be the side-kick."

 "Oh, come on." I groaned, bringing him back up into a standing position with me. I flattened out his ruffled jersey and looked down at him. "You're here now, so why don't you come back home with me and have breakfest?"

 His face lit up and he looked around as if someone were listening, one brow quirked upwards. "Will there be... bacon?"

 "Yes, there will be bacon. Now come on!" I started jogging and he stumbled slightly before jogging after me.

 ***

 Neil and I had gone to the same schools ever since we were in kindergarden, but we'd never actually talked to each other until our Sophomore year in high school.

 Things started with a bang, to say the least. He was getting tossed into lockers and we met shortly after I gave his bully a mean right-hook. They'd been in the pool locker room and it was pure chance that I'd been in the next room changing.

 We started hanging out after that and I introduced him to my friends. Things went pretty smoothly, and for a guy that got picked on a lot, Neil was pretty positive. Exactly what I needed in life.

 Positivity aside, his sense of security was pretty messed up. It didn't take long for me to notice the extra flinches and over-the-shoulder looks he fleshed out through school, and eventually I asked him if he wanted to hang out with me at the gym.

 He said no, of course, but I knew he'd say that. After a week, he changed his mind and that's when we became work-out buddies. Neil wasn't exactly a fit guy, but not out of shape either. He was just someone who was right in-between. Thin, but no muscle.

 Originally, I wondered if the gym trips were even worth it, but after seeing him look more relaxed then he had in years changed my mind. He was a good guy, and I liked seeing him happy...

 ...Almost as happy as he looked while spinning in my dad's favorite chair.

 I rolled my eyes at him and went back to making our breakfest. Eggs, bacon, toaster waffles, the whole she-bang.

"This chair is amazing!" He called from the living room. "How fast do you think it can go?"

 "I don't know, but if it breaks I'm telling my dad it was you." I answered, flipping one of the eggs over.

 "Haha! I bet if I-" His voice cut out and I heard the chair squeak before a loud thud. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

 "Did you break it?"

 There was a few minutes of silence before he poked his head into the kitchen. "Nope. No, not at all. Everything's fine. I don't know why you'd think otherwise, because everything is perfect in there. By the way, uh, when does your dad get home?"

  I waved him off. "Oh for God's sake, just put it in the garage. I'll fix it later."

 He nodded quickly. "Yeah, okay, brilliant. I'll do that right now."

 He disappeared and I heard him wrestling with the chair before the garage door open. He appeared again a few minutes later and sat down at the island before letting out a big sigh. "Well I hope he never sees that."

 "Don't worry, he doesn't love it that much." I chuckled, taking the cooking pan off the stove and scooping a few eggs and bacon onto his plate. His face lit up again and he immediately started digging in. I gave myself the rest then sat down across from him.

 "So you want to hear something weird?" I asked, taking a sip of the milk we'd gotten out earlier.

 He looked up, answering with a full mouth of food. "What?"

 "Last night I got this weird email, and at first I thought it was just spam, but it was blank so I opened it, because why not? Nothing happened, but later on I got another one. And as it turns out, it was some guy's weird love letter to his girlfriend. I'll have to show it to you, because it was just so bizarre." I explained, finishing off one of the eggs.

 He took a big gulp of his orange juice then raised of his brows again. "Was it signed or anything? Or was it just blank?"

 I couldn't remember at first but then it came to me. "Jack. It was signed "jack." But that's not the weirdest part."

 He squinted. "What do you mean?"

 I chewed my bottom lip then thought of something. "Wait here, let me show you."

 I slipped away from the island and ran up to my room to grab the laptop. I grabbed it along with my cellphone before going back downstairs, slipping back into my chair and started it up.

 I pulled up the chat log and email from the computer's trash bin and handed the computer over to Neil. He squinted then started reading. By the time he finished and pulled back I could tell he was weirded out.

 "Jesus Christ." He yelped, pulling away from the screen.

 I frowned and took the computer back, but looked at him instead of the screen. "What?"

 "The chat log cut off so I went to your email to get the rest, and God! Look at that!" He pointed at the computer. I pulled the screen back and looked at my inbox.

 "Inbox (73)"

 All of them were from the same address. Smileyjack534@yahoo.com. Rows of emails with the same subject. "talk to me".

 "What's his problem?" I muttered, setting the computer on the island and running a hand through my hair.

"Jesus."

 Neil took the laptop and I saw him block the address and delete the emails before handing it back to me. "Well, that should take care of him. If he shows up again you should probably get a different account."

 I sighed. "It's not even creepy now, it's just annoying. But you're right. Let's just go watch a movie or something. My dad's going to be home soon and he'll probably stay out of the living room."

 I slid off the chair and walked into said room, riffling through our DVD racks. Neil followed, hunched against the wall.

 "Why should he stay out of the living room?" He asked, head tilted.

 I smirked and nodded towards the floor near my dad's desk where tiny bits of wood were still scattered around. "He'd probably notice the chair."

 ***

 Neil stayed most of the day and left around 5:00pm with my dad. It was fun having him around.

 The chair incident never came up, and when it was time to leave my dad gave Neil a lift on his way to work while I stayed at home, cleaning up the mess that accumulated through the day.

 As soon as everything was picked up and the living room looked at least semi-decent I grabbed my laptop and started chatting with various friends while the TV went on in the background.

 Luckily, there weren't any emails from what's-his-face, so a majority of the time I was enjoying myself. So much, in fact, I didn't think twice when a IM invite popped up at the corner of my screen and accepted it.

 Nothing popped up at first so I had a feeling it wasn't the same guy just using a different email. When nothing happened for the next fifteen minutes I just shrugged it off and continued chatting with my friends.

 Two hours passed and I started yawning, eyes sore and ready for bed. I closed up the conversations with the few people I was still talking to and waited a few more minutes in case the new person was going to say hello. I hovered over their user name with my mouse and read the email. cA_Condor@gmail.com.

 Just as I was closing out the window a chat screen opened.

   cA_Condor Says: Hello?

 My eyes widened and I leaned back into the couch, typing.

   lisaW272 Says: Hey. I'm sorry, I don't recognize your email. Do I know you?

   cA_Condor Says: No, we've never met before. I'm actually here because of a invite you may have received earlier.

 I quirked a brow and felt my jaw drop a little. Well, the conversation definitely took a turn I hadn't expected. I quickly typed down a response and waited for him to answer.

   lisaW272 Says: Yeah, I know what you're talking about. Listen, I don't know if he's a friend of yours or something, but please tell him to leave me alone.

   cA_Condor Says: He's a colleague of mine. Not a friend exactly, but he does tend to.. rant to me about a lot of things. Most of which I'd rather not hear. His interactions with you came up in a conversation earlier today and I wanted to apologize on his behalf.

   lisaW272 Says: It's fine, but I just don't want him bothering me anymore. I blocked him, so it should be okay.

   cA_Condor Says: I'm afraid to say that blocking him may not work. As demented as he is, Jack does posses a decent amount of intelligence. He may be able to get around it. If he does, please don't hesitate to contact me.

   lisaW272 Says: Damn. Well, you're in my contacts so I'll be sure to send you a message if he does. Also, if you don't mind me asking, how do you know him?

   cA_Condor Says: We were colleagues in school; while I was getting my medical degree. We've drifted since then, but do occasionally see each other. He usuallys stops by while I'm working to talk.

   lisaW272 Says: Oh, you're a doctor then? Neat. Well anyway, thanks for letting me know about this. Sorry to cut things short, but I have to get going.

   cA_Conder Says: Of course. Goodnight.

   lisaW272 Says: 'night.

 I logged off, feeling better but still weirded out.

 "Well, at least I have someone who knows him." I sighed. It was a small problem but the fact that it was fixed so fast was relieving.

 One less thing to worry about."

Wrecked Canvas

  When it comes to characters or stories, it seems like a lot of writer's end up wrecking the canvas. Not ruining it, but causing a little chaos. The usual way people develop characters is by growing them out of their problems and making them better people but I like to do it a different way. To me, breaking down a character over time is a much more interesting process.

 Building a character up to their peak and then tearing them down into something else. It's developing but in a more realistic way. Or at least that's my opinion. Not to mention it's much more interesting and rare to see a main character break down instead of grow.

 The only way I like to incorporate this in my stories is when the main character has grown to a certain point. When they're at their potential, so to speak, I've always had a habit of bringing them down again. Usually in horrible scenarios, but that's just the writer's way.

 Inverting the process is interesting to me, and in a way gives the author a better chance to show more angles of the character then before. How they react, how their personalities change, if new habits arise during their downfall... All of it, I think, helps develop the character even more. Even when they're falling.

 Like I said before, a lot of people grow their characters from the start and keep going. There's nothing wrong with this process, but as a reader I've never really felt concern over something that's happened to the character post-story. Say, if a story starts with a character who's parents are dead. I don't feel anything concerning them, it's just a fact. Now, if this character's parents died later in the story, I would be heartbroken and feel sad. It's all about when.

 Watching a character you've read about grow can be great. You feel happy for them and proud that they've come so far. Watching the same person deteriorate would be just the opposite. When it comes to writing, I've always felt that sad or ominous stories have a greater emotional toll, and in my writing I try to play on that as much as I can without over-doing it. Writing that can invoke emotions is the greatest kind, in my opinion.

- Laura. 

Perpetually Screaming

 Talking is one of the things I do best. I could go on for hours about different subjects, my stories, my political opinions, my sexuality, gender, anything really, you name it! It's all just pours out and sometimes I even make people laugh. I guess the reason why I talk so much is because there's always something to say, and I hate it when things aren't said. Sometimes all you need is a good conversation to liven things up!

 I've been wondering how that'll effect me in the fall when I go to high school. I'd like to think that I'll be able to talk as much as I want, especially with all the people around, but I have a feeling that people there aren't exactly interested in talking about the things I talk about. It's sad, especially because I know for a fact that no average kid my age would ever share the same interests. 

 Sexuality and school is another thing I've been thinking about. I honestly don't know how people would react to meeting someone pansexual and if they'd treat them negatively. But, it's not that I've been worried about. Honestly, I've been more worried about people salting me down to being bisexual, which is the most uncomfortable word in the world for me. I hate it, and to tag that on a pansexual is wrong. In my opinion. I know most pan people don't mind, but the idea really bothers me. 

 I like to think I'll be able to slip into my new life a bit more gracefully since I won't be the only new kid, but I'm still a bit worried. Still paranoid. It's frustrating because I can't really talk to anyone about my issues with school without them making too many assumptions. 

 Being home-schooled, well, I don't know what to say about it. No opinion really, but I hate two things about home-schoolers. 

1) When they think they're better then people who go to school. I swear to god, the whole "the world is your classroom and a actual classroom is just a cage blah blah" thing is the most frustrating thing in the world and those are the home-schoolers that give us the good name. The whole "holier-then-thou" routine is simply disgusting. I could go on about it forever. 

2) The home-schoolers who don't do anything. Literally, I will go on the record and say that parents who 'home-school' their kids but don't make them do any actual work should have their kids taken away from them. I don't care how much they 'learn' without lessons, it's wrong and you're letting them grow up ignorant and lazy. Education is just as important as food and water, and the home-schoolers that do this are literally the worst of our kind. 

 I just, bleh. I really hate it. I really do, and this is one of the things I feel so strongly about and I just hate it when I see situations like that. It's not just the parent's fault, sometimes it's the kids too, and when they have a combination of the two things mentioned above I just can't take it anymore. Luckily, I've managed to stay away from those categories, and I'm glad for that. 

 There are just so many things going on right now but so few, and the only thing I'm looking forward to is high school, and what little future it might give me. I get so wound up, so paranoid, and so angry about education that when I actually get out there and taste what the public gets then maybe I can appreciate myself a little more. 

 There are things about school I'm afraid of. Not bullies, poor lessons, or anything like that. It's the people I'm worried about. Not what they'll do to me, no, I'm afraid of becoming like the ones I've seen so far. I don't want to become like that, to loose everything I've build up. It's still shaky and I just have this feeling that once I go there everything I've learned the past few months will start to seem insignificant and I'll forget it all. 

 Perpetually screaming, that's me, only with the exception of it being mental. But I'm not complaining, there's no point in that. Sometimes you just have to roll with it, have a good laugh, and let it all go. In the end, that's all you really can do. 

-Laura. 

Flipping Through Life Like a Blind Cow

 Funnily enough, I'm actually getting around to that "personal update" post I mentioned earlier! Now that I've thought about it awhile, I'm semi-ready to jot some stuff down and give the few viewers present a good old fashioned teen-angst post. 

 Life. Ah, life, life, life. Sometimes it's quiet for good reasons and sometimes it's absolute dead silence, which tends to be a bit more eerie then the first. At the moment, the best way to describe me would be spiritually dead.  No inspiration, no wanting, nothing. A blank slate, basically. And being in that state of mind is more disruptive then you might think!

 

 I like to think I'm at the semi-point in life where I've backed myself into a corner and there are only two doors, and if I don't pick one the room I'm hiding in will slowly suffocate me. The thing is, I don't know what either door represents, so honestly, I have no idea what I'm choosing or what I'd be leaving. If any of that analogy makes since, +5 points to you. 

 Being spiritually dead is pretty boring. Maybe I'll find religion in the meantime! Or, you know, think about those two doors I mentioned earlier. It's hard solving a problem when you don't really view it as a problem. I wouldn't call it being depressed, because if anything I don't feel sad. Just neutral, which is boring. And when you're bored the easiest thing to default to is anger. 

 Surprisingly I haven't resorted to that, which only makes things worse. I'm not lonely either, which is also surprising because contrary to what most people think, I love socializing. That said, I do feel a tiny feeling that makes me want to have a companion present. 

 Two doors. A good analogy, but I'm already getting tired of it. Too much "hoodoo spiritual words that are trying to hard to be deep" going on. Sigh. Ugh, that's what I hate about being in this state of mind. Everything is boring and I just end up irritating myself. I just feel like I'm on a big cliff just waiting for something big to happen so I can give all my attention to it. 

 Something new, that's what I need. Sometime fresh that's actually positive in nature. 'Haven't had something like that in at least a year now. I could handle it, but the question is, what could that new thing be? Fresh, fresh, fresh. God I haven't had a fresh thing happen in my life for years now. 

 It could definitely get me out of my funk, especially since my "fighting-bears-under-waterfalls-while-meditating-in-my-mind-dojo" thing. Who knows, since I've straightened myself out maybe the world will be better this time. After all, no one's seen me yet. Maybe I'll finally get that one friend I've always wanted. 

 Fresh. Not a fresh start, or "new beginning". No, fuck that. That's not what I need. I know exactly what I need now, what a look in the soul this update has been. Hmm. I think I know what door to take, but whoa now it's going to be a change of pace. 

 With that said, even though they'll never see it, I wanna give a shout-out to my friend for setting me on this pace. One sentence! One sentence was all it took for them to shake me out of it and make me take this mini-path in the first place. I mean god damn. What a friend!

 -Laura. 

Writing Tips

 Over the past few years I've been writing I've seen a lot of  different ways people tell stories, and a lot of ways that are just incorrect, in my opinion. Ever since I started writing I've changed my style, and right now I'm not particularly happy with it, but still, I try to stick to some basic rules.

 1. Adjectives are your friends, but give them space and don't use twenty in the same sentence. Description is good but for the love of god sometimes you just need to say it and stop adding all the flourish. Honestly, it's more irritating then you'd think.

 I used to go crazy with them in my old stories and fanfictions. It was a nut house, and when young writers (and old ones!) do that it spells "BAD WRITER" in big bold letters. All in all, keep it cool because sometimes simplicity is your friend! Description is key in a story and painting a picture in the reader's mind is the goal, but they don't need to know the exact color of curtains and it's ethnicity in one paragraph.

 2. Mary-Sues are not your friends. A writer's worst fear, and rightfully so. If you have a Mary-Sue, it doesn't matter how great of a writer you are, because in the end it will bring you down and keep going until you've reached the fires of hell. There are so many ways you can have a Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu, and honestly it would take a entire other post to go over the guidelines of how not to make one, but if you're a writer then I'm sure you already have a good idea of what they are.

 Anyway, if you do have a Mary-Sue, then it's time to cancel all plans on writing because you have work to do! Character re-evaluation is the key, and if you don't have time to do that, then writing is not the thing for you. Sometimes you just have to wipe the whole slat clean, but trust me, in the end it's probably going to be better then what you started with.

 3. Stick to the basics and get to the point. When writing, try not to use over-complicated words that'll confuse your readers. You don't want them to have to pause and go look at a dictionary in the middle of a chapter. What a lot of fanfiction writer's (from what I've seen) seem to do, and in some cases actual celebrity writers (see: Stephanie Meyer) is use words that flourish everything and make it way too complicated. So, when I'm writing I always try to keep to the basics!

 4. Don't stall. If you're writing a story and there's a small hole between major story points, don't bullshit it and make some boring little in-between thing. If a scene has absolutely no point other then to 1) have two characters "develop" together in-between major plot points, 2) stall the story and then have something happen to introduce the next arc, 3) small scenes where friends go to the mall/cafe/shopping or anything that seems absolutely pointless.

  Now, if you actually have something plot developing and the "in-between" is actually purposefully put in the story, by all means, go right ahead! But if it's not necessary, don't add it!

 Those are the four major things I try to keep in mind while writing, because no matter what form I'm trying, those are my own little golden rules. There are so many other little tiny things here and there, but honestly, what's the point at being nitpicky? Of course there are different types of styles, but just because different styles exist, that doesn't excuse bad writing, and you can't just pass it off as "your style."

 I don't think I said it before, but I'm sorry if I was a bit blunt here! Writing is close to my heart and I've become quite a bit of a critique. Haha, well, I think I'll try writing up a person update post later today, just to keep everyone up-to-date with how my life is and how things are. Honestly though, it all depends on whether or not I'll be awake! I've been having some problems with sleeping.

 - Laura.

Four Stories

1. When I was little, around two or so, we (my family) used to have dinner at my grandparent's house. One time when we were having dinner I apparently dropped my fork, and right after dropping it I yelled "God dammit!". My older sister also apparently was in a situation like that but instead of yelling that she said "Fuck!"

 2. I wrote my first story when I was around ten. It was a vampire-romance that started out with two lesbians (one human, one vampire) who were on the run but after some re-arranging I ended up giving them each a respective boyfriend (one werewolf, one vampire). I wrote 193 pages before losing it to a computer crash.

 3. Since I first started collecting, I've gathered $620 worth of manga and have 66 books of various series (all of this not including merc and video). It's completely ironic because I actually have a deep-seeded hate of most manga and can barely stand to look at it anymore, much less get through an issue in one sitting. (I literally just spent 30mins going through my stuff and adding everything up for this, lol)

 4. I used to have a pair of friends who were brothers, and occasionally we would wrestle. I've always liked messing around, and even though it was obvious I could handle them we still went at it a lot. One time when they both came at me the same time, I accidentally tossed one over my shoulder and he hurt his. Now, of course his brother was laughing like no tomorrow, and the one I threw down had a lot of "man grit", if you know what I mean, and went after his brother. To say the least, it when down a bit quirkily.

 While the laughing one ran away, his brother chased after him, pulled down his pants and then they fought each other in their boxers. In a public park.

4:14:47am

 Honestly I don't feel like typing right now. I just want to go to bed and try to start the day and not feel the way my torso is feeling right now. Which is nothing. Literally, i don't feel anything right now other then my dear old friend called Isolation.

 Tomorrow I'm going to help my mom get settled into her new apartment/house. I don't even know. I really honestly don't know how I feel about it and the only thing that's going through my head in big bright bold lettering is "ALONE". And god fucking dammit I swear to god I don't need that right now.

 I don't want to be conscious. Not because I'm angry or sad but because I literally can't seem to assign a feeling to this situation. I don't know how I feel and it's toture and the only thing I want to do is go to bed because there is no point in being concious right now.

 It was okay earlier and I was fine but now it's just weird and I really hate it and everything has seemed so ridiculous lately and I just want everything to STOP for ONE SECOND and let me ajust before launching another canon-ball at me.

 It's going to be okay, I know that, but it's not and I just want everyone to be happy but at the same time I don't want to lose my mom even if it's only during the nighttime because then we don't get to do any of the things we used to do like watch bad tvs shows in the iddle of the night and she won't be here to catch me while I'm up late at night or tell me to do the dishes or do my homework and any of the other things.

 i just don't know how to deal with this because I don't need to vent or anything because I'm not angry. I'm just upset a but at the same time I'm not sad either? I just want to be distracted but all of a sudden everything looks different and I'm realizing that she's not going to live with us anymore and even though she'll be here durin the day she won't be here when I go to bed, or when I leave for school in the morning and she won't be here and she won't be able to talk to be or notice when I'm sad because she'ls going to be gone and I don't want to handle it.

 i just don't want to be ablone. i hate being alone and how am I going to get by if I only see my mom during the day and everything is falling apart and I just won't do anything useful because I honestly don't see the point anymore? when i get up in the morning there isn't any reason why and at this point I'm just sca i'm not even scared i'm just god it's just terrible and I don't know what to do becasue there's technically no problem?

i just don't know and honestly i just want to go to sleep right now so bye

Shh-You-Didn't-See-This Writing (Part 5, Last Part?)

 Note: Another short T.A.K.K.A ficlet set in a alternate universe where Tera can't handle all that's happened and Captain is left to comfort her. Not meant to be romantic or "fluffy", just a drabble really. I'd love to post this on the other blog, but again, it's not canon and probably contains many spoilers, even though I've covered most of them! Please comment with thoughts and/or review, if you'd like. 
   
 "Fractura de la cordura"

  Swing, snap, fracture.

  Sob, drum, silence.

  Kick, breath, swallow.

  Pipe.

  Ebullition, retaliation, requital.

  Detention.

 They got back to the flat four hours and three interviews later. The damage was severe enough that Allison's mom thought it was out of the question to not to file a lawsuit. Two broken ribs, a nose, small torso hemorrhaging and a few fingers were apparently a just cause for complaint.

 Tera didn't mention that she had planned to beat the kid's brains out with the pipe.

 Captain didn't say anything, not that she was expecting him to. When they finally let him through the school's security all the initial interviews were done and the only thing left on the precinct and school's agenda was to talk with him. Even from down the hall Tera could hear everyone in the room yelling.

  By the time they let him go she could tell he was agitated just by the way he walked towards her and drove the car. He didn't mention that the principal diagnosed her as a sociopath. She'd already heard.

 The flat was pitch black when they arrived. She walked in and went straight for the second guest room, not noticing the second set of footsteps following her. Her foot hooked around the door instinctively and moved to shut it behind her. His hand stopped it at the last second and she ignored him while changing out of her uniform and into some of the clothes spread across the bed.

 She was waiting for him to do something. Yell, get angry, start tapping his fingers against the door, anything. Just waiting for the tiniest sign that showed he acknowledged what she did and that he didn't approve. She wanted him to care, wanted something about her to matter to him. To provoke him.

 To make him help her.

 Empty. That's how she felt. A shell that was given a job and expected to act how people wanted her to. Scared, damaged, afraid. Cureable Curable by therapists and medicine. Not placid. Not quiet. Not angry.

 And that's why they provoked her.

 It only takes one incident for people to start talking. How the poor girl snapped after all those months and finally lashed out. Poor her, so damaged by that man and those creatures that she'd turn against her own friend. Stop, she'd say, when they take him away. But who would listen to someone so deranged? So damaged?

 He stared at her from the doorway. She slouched on the bed and stared back squarely.

 Nothing. He did nothing, and the wall she'd build to keep everything in convulsed.

 A half-choked sob made it's way out and she curled in on herself to keep it in. He moved, darting into the room and lifting her up into him without hesitation. She latched on and wrapped herself around him, practically shaking with the force of her own crying and gripping the collar of his jacket until her knuckles were white.

 He sat down on the edge of the bed and held her until her shoulders stopped shaking and her breath calmed. The grip on his jacket loosened and he realized she'd cried herself to sleep.

Shh-You-Didn't-See-This Writing (Part 4)

 Note: Another short T.A.K.K.A ficlet set in a alternate universe where Tera can't handle all that's happened and Captain is left to comfort her. Not meant to be romantic or "fluffy", just a drabble really. It's in a series similar to the shipping shorts I've written, but this series mainly focus' on Captain's Thoughts, thus the name. I'd love to post this on the other blog, but again, it's not canon and probably contains many spoilers, even though I've covered most of them! Please comment with thoughts and/or review, if you'd like. 

 "Moribund"

 He'd always believed people ran on batteries. He'd seen people when they were low on charge and people who were practically sizzling with left-over energy, and he knew when a person's battery was going out.

 Two years. Two years he waited to see when her's would drain. Day by day he waited, expecting to see it coming at any minute and by the time it actually arrived that he almost felt surprised. Almost hoped that it would be delayed a little longer.

 It was a Tuesday.

 A Tuesday, when she pulled herself out of bed two hours later then usual.

 It started at a pace so sluggish he almost wondered if it was just a phase and shook it off. Two weeks, and he changed his mind. Two weeks, and he started noticing the torpid look in her eyes. The way she picked at her food while trying to convince him she was eating, and how early she started climbing into bed.

 Two more weeks.

 No words.

 She stopped speaking until the only sounds that surrounded them were the chirps of Crocs. Eventually he had to sit with her periodically to make sure she would eat. She'd refused fish weeks beforehand.

 He took over the scavenging and food collecting after she got to the point where walking to far made her dizzy. She stayed in T.A.K.K.A most of the time, sleeping. That's all she did, sleep. It was the only time when she seemed to be content. He'd let her stay like that for days, only interrupting so she would eat. He'd cut down the scheduled sittings but made sure she ate twice as much. It was the only thing he could do.

 Just another thing to make her more comfortable.

 He'd watched people die before. Hundreds, either in the fire of war or writhing in pain from disease and famine. Friends, family, fiance, all gone. He'd been with them all while moribund, but watching this particular person slip was by far the worse.

Shh-You-Didn't-See-This Writing (Part 2 & 3)

Note: If you don't remember, I've mentioned my other blog dedicated to my original story T.A.K.K.A. I love writing it, and I post all the chapters/info there, but, there is a exception. I, of course, ship my own OC's sometimes, and when I do, I usually write secret little ficlets with them. Ficlets meaning they're fictional non-cannon situations I conjure up just so I can write my couples in peace. :') 
  
 So, like I said, awhile ago I was absolutely consumed with writing a ficlet for T.A.K.K.A with a character couple. I've written two other ficlets in the series, and I'm working on the third one right now. The third one is the one I put up earlier today, and I thought I'd post the other two that came before it! They're shorter then the third part, so I'm grouping them together in the same post. Anyway, enjoy! 

 Part One: "Klipp"
  
 "Two months. That's as long as I could stand it. Little by little, it started to get more and more irritating. I'd be walking and it would itch. Sitting, standing and especially when I was climbing into bed it would get on my nerves. I never had to deal with it before, but times had changed.

 Hair.

 It was stupid. The fact that it legitimately bothered me was embarrassing enough, and it wasn't like I could run to the store and pick up a new razor to cut it. The only ones for miles were currently in a combination locked box.

 I twisted around in my chair and let out a long groan. A few rows down I barely heard Captain shift before going back to his book. That was the nice thing about him. He'd acknowledge your pain. Not that he had any idea what I was angry about.

 I flipped onto my stomach and stuck my head out to look down the hall. He was lounging in the back row reading one of his bad romance novels.

 He didn't look up.

 I sucked in another long breath and started walking towards the front of the plane. There were a couple of mangos left from break fest and half of a cooked fish sitting in one of the antique bowls we'd picked up. They looked gross, especially the fish. Why we decided to put them in the same bowl was a mystery, but maybe we were just tired.

 I grabbed one of the mangos and sat down at the table. It was mushy but I didn't care enough to actually stop eating.

 Hair.

 It was really starting to bother me, and that was stupid. It shouldn't be a big deal. It wasn't a big deal. Lots of girls had long hair, it was natural, and the hair tickling my back wasn't even that long. It was barely there. Barely noticeable.

 My teeth were half-deep in the mango and I was already starting to feel sick.
 It looked bad. I knew it did.

 I tossed the mango back in the bowl and sat up straighter. No one would care if it looked bad. It was a fact that Captain couldn't care less how my hair looked, and he was the only other person on the island so it really didn't make sense for me to be freaking out about it.

 From the back row I heard him shift and close his book with a quiet thump. I stared at the mango and kept thinking. He stopped beside me and stared with me through his mask. After a few seconds he turned and sat down at the table, saying nothing, as usual.  He picked up his book again and flipped it back open to his page.

 I eased down into my chair again and stared at him. I couldn't see his expression so I focused on his hands instead. Even if they were gloved, his hands held most of his personality.

 One of them held the book open at base while he held the next page between his thumb and index fingers. If you hadn't been looking you'd never see the tiny way his thumb would rub the paper when he'd turn the page or how he always ran his fingers along the spine before opening the book in the first place.

 It was relaxing to watch him. His entire body was molded into the chair in an almost smug way. All traces of definition hidden away behind his jacket and no special details to take away from him. Simple.

 The feeling of panic in the back of my head shifted and as soon as I focused on it the entire mess dilated. A whole wave of paranoia and stress flooded in and the only thing I could do was let out a small sigh and roll my eyes.

 I barely caught sight of Captain's knife, firmly strapped to the length of his boot and looking sharp as ever. He never let me touch it. I chewed on my lip and ran a hand through my hair before glancing back at it. It could definitely cut hair.

 "Can you cut hair?" My voice broke the silence and it sounded awkward. We never really talked, and the sudden interruption almost seemed rude. He glanced up from his book and looked at me. I could've sworn he was raising his brows from behind the mask. He followed my eyes to his knife and gracefully picked it up and set it on the table, still looking at me.

 I didn't look. In fact, I actually closed my eyes as soon as I knew he had skin showing.

 The brief moments that his fingers brushed against my neck felt strange. I hadn't felt another person's skin in so long it seemed weirdly intimate, especially considering it was Captain who was getting in my business. The man walked head-to-toe in clothes all day and did everything he could to avoid being seen, so the fact that he trusted me to not look sent a fuzzy feeling down my back.

 He pulled back and I heard him grab one of the water bottles from the counter top. The lid popped open and I heard him splash some of it onto his hands before coming back. He massaged my head and made sure to spread it all over, which was surprising because I thought he'd forget that part. I relaxed into his touch and felt myself loosen up.

 It really was relaxing, and after awhile I just got lost in it. Little by little it started to feel less like a haircut and more like a massage treatment, which was fine by me. At one point he even seemed to drift towards my temples and rub some of the stress out, but as soon as I realized it he was gone and moving towards another area.

 When he finally stopped I was starting to doze off just while he actually began cutting, and by the time I opened my eyes there was a small pile of hair by my feet and a lighter feeling on my shoulders.

 I groggily lifted my head and looked around for him, feeling the sudden need for affection. He was sitting down where he was before, reading. I looked down at the pile of hair and suddenly felt like crying.

 I wasn't even there anymore and they were still taunting me to the point where something that simple got me worked up.

 From the corner of my eye I saw Captain motion for me to come over. I glanced down at him and took a deep breath before standing up, stretching, and walking over. I plopped down beside him and he handed me a book to flip through. I hated reading, but sometimes it was nice to flip through anyway.

 "Thanks for the haircut." I muttered.

  He scoffed."

 XxXxX

 Part Two: Fisken

  "I hurled myself sideways and missed the fish by inches, my hand sinking into the mud while a wave of water hit my back. My shirt stuck to my back and it was the last straw. I whipped it off and hurled it back towards land before turning my attention back to the fish.

 We'd been running low on food and it was time to go out and get some more. Apparently, it was my job even though Captain could've speared five from 15ft away and it took me 30 minutes just to catch one. While I did all the dirty work, he was on land reading and keeping a look out for any stray Crocs.

 I growled and looked around for fish. They always gave off a tiny flicker because of the light, and if one of them went in the open it would be easy to spot.

 As soon as one caught my eye I lunged towards it and aimed for the water ahead of it. Amazingly, the fish went exactly where I'd wanted it to, and the knife went through without any problems.

 I flipped around in the water and took it off the knife while coming up. Everything felt much better against my skin and it was almost relaxing. I floated down and started moving back towards the bank where I could drop off the fish. So far I'd only gotten two, and it was a bit pathetic compared to the load Captain usually brought in.

 He was sitting with his back respectively to me and I could've sworn he was sleeping if it hadn't been for the book. One day I knew I'd find him in the act, he had to sleep sometime.

 I waded up the bank and walked towards him and the basket we kept the fish in. I tossed the fish into it and turned back towards the water. "Do we need any more?"

 He glanced over his shoulder and looked at the basket before waving me off and shifting to stand. I walked over to where my shirt was and rinsed it off before throwing it back on again. The wet fabric felt gross but I knew I could just whip it off again as soon as we were back in the plane.

 By the time we got back it was already half dry and smelled like fish. The basket had been wearing out so some of the juices leaked out on the hike back. I wrinkled my nose and set the basket down on the table while Captain latched the door. We didn't need to cook anything yet, so it was lounging time.

 I walked down to my section of chairs and grabbed one of the blankets nearby. I whipped off the shirt and hung it over the lower-class chairs while wrapping the blanket around me and throwing myself across the chairs.

 Captain messed around in the kitchen for a few minutes then moved past me and back towards his rows. I turned and watched him sit down to resume reading. I didn't even have to look to know it was romance.

 He loved romance novels, especially the really cheesy ones that were predictable. There were a lot of times when I wanted to ask him why he liked that kind of stuff, but I knew he wouldn't answer. No matter what the question, he never would.

 I rolled my shoulders and fell sideways onto the seat. "Captain, I'm taking a nap."

 He tapped his fingers against his book in acknowledgement and then drifted back into silence. I moved up to my pillow and relaxed against it with the blanket. For a make-shift bed, the whole set up was surprisingly comfy.

***

 She was out in fifteen minutes, which was usual considering her normal track record. Too many nights awake, not enough ways to burn off the energy. Such was the cycle.

 He started moving once he was sure she was out. It almost felt betraying to do anything without her, but some things were better left to him.

 He walked at a brisk pace to the front of the ship and grabbed the basket of fish and his knife before sitting down to gut them. When they were done he took the innards and threw them out the window and down into the river. Something would eat them. He set the fish back into the basket and cleaned his knife before going into his room.

 It was the only place in the plane she wasn't allowed to go, and it was also where he kept his arsenal.

 He always cleaned his guns, no matter what was happening around him. Keeping them in top-notch condition was what he was trained to do, but in the end the only reason he'd kept going was because it calmed him. The clinical way they had to be treated was reassuring, no surprises, and no unpredicted turn of events. Same thing every week.

 He finished an hour later. The process hadn't been as relaxing as he'd hoped, but it was nothing a good book couldn't solve.

 He paused. Farther up in the plane, Tera was making small noises of discomfort.

 It usually started an hour or two into her naps, and each time he'd do the same thing. She had no idea, of course, and he preferred it that way.

 He set down his book and walked out into the hall and towards her. Since he'd last seen her she had twisted around and curled in on herself, most likely because of whatever dreams she was having. Her brows were furrowed and her leg gave the occasional twitch, only stopping when he gently touched it and sat down next to her.

 He didn't do anything at first and let her body realize that someone was close. The first time he'd checked on her she'd elbowed him in the face before bluntly falling off the bed. A combat reflex.

 He smirked at the memory.

 Once she stilled he quietly took a glove off and rubbed her head. She relaxed immediately. In some ways, seeing her loosen was more calming then his gun maintenance. Whether she realized it or not, Tera was always tensed. Always tightened up in the most obvious ways and sometimes it pained him just to look at her like that.

 She sank farther into her pillow and he rubbed her temples and smoothed out her hair absently. Her breathing slowed down and he moved with her until his motions came to a complete stop. His hand stayed there for a moment before withdrawing. Her head leaned into the empty space.

 She'd stay like that for a little while longer until waking up. It was always amusing for him to watch her confused expression when it came to her hair. It only lasted a moment, but he always caught it."

xXxXxXx

Shh-You-Didn't-See-This Writing

 Note: If you don't remember, I've mentioned my other blog dedicated to my original story T.A.K.K.A. I love writing it, and I post all the chapters/info there, but, there is a exception. I, of course, ship my own OC's sometimes, and when I do, I usually write secret little ficlets with them. Ficlets meaning they're fictional non-cannon situations I conjure up just so I can write my couples in peace. :') 
  
 So, awhile ago I was absolute consumed with writing a ficlet for T.A.K.K.A with a character couple. I've written two other ficlets in the series, and I'm working on the third one right now. The third one is the one I've been obsessed with lately, and so I thought I'd share the WIP! 
  
 The main reason I'm not putting this on my other blog is because of two reasons. One, one of the characters doesn't canonically show up in T.A.K.K.A until the ending rounds of the story. Two, the couple technically isn't canon, and I have no desire (lie) to make it so. Haha! So, if you're interested in reading some romance I threw together, here you go! (You don't have to know the story to understand the situation, although there will be references to in-story things that might confuse you. Also, bear in mind this is a WIP).
   
  Set Command// Start ==> AFTERWARDS, Mörkt

 "Explosions erupted from behind and the shock wave sent me flying forward and into the gravel of the tunnel. My hands flew out to brace me and I was back up on my feet in seconds, running further into the dark and hoping that Crocs would just wait me out instead of pursuing.

 I could barely make out the road-blocks ahead and almost ran head first into one. I kept running and slid behind some of the last few, crouching and holding my breath to make sure nothing would notice me.

 Minutes rolled by and I started noticing how cold it was, and the fact that a Croc could be less then a foot away from me and I'd never see it. Cold, alone, and most definitely in trouble.

 I'd lost track of Captain as soon as the first explosions went off. The tunnel wasn't too far away so I went there without thinking about it. It seemed like a good idea, but after ten minutes in the dark I realized it was probably the worst thing I could've done.

 I sucked in a shaky breath and tried pulling my jacket down over my legs. The shorts I was wearing didn't cover much so I was freezing. I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back against the road block.

 After an hour I started panicking and got twitchy. It was ridiculously quiet and hearing my own heart beat was creepier then you'd think. I willed for something to happen but another hour passed without a sound.

 By the time I heard gravel crunching a wave of panic spiked so high it hurt. I flattened myself back against block and waited for a Croc to loom over and finish me off, but wall of black passed instead and I squinted against the dark. Unless it was a Croc who was a bit on the heavy side, the 'wall' could easily pass as Captain.

 "Cap?"

 The gravel crunching stopped then picked up again at a slower pace. I looked in front of me and tried finding his outline but couldn't make anything out. I reached out and ran my hand through the air but it bumped into nothing. Just as I was about to pull it back my fingertips brushed against something and I jerked it back reflexively.

 Captain's hand reached down and closed around my shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze before retracting. I stood up and dusted myself off before squinting up to look at him. Something seemed off, and after a minute or two of staring, I realized that unless he'd switched to a lighter colored mask, I was probably looking at skin.

 "What happened to your mask?" I wondered, narrowing my eyes and fighting the urge to get closer and look. I couldn't see anything. No details, no shadow or outline. Just the faintest color that let me know it was skin and not metal. Even then it wasn't clear enough for me to even make out the color.

 I stopped squinting and looked back towards the direction of the tunnel entrance. Captain didn't seem to be moving so I had no idea what the plan was, or if we were even staying. I looked back towards him but kept my eyes downward. "Are we staying here then?"

 He gave me a nod (at least, that's what I could make out) then sat down against the road blocker. I sat down with him and closed my eyes. It must have been at least 8pm, and after a long day of scavenging, not to mention getting tossed around by Crocs and shock waves, I was a little sore.

 As tired as I was, the cold kept me awake every time I started to doze off. I tried pulling down my jacket several times but it just rode up when I tried getting comfortable. It might have been easier to sleep if I had a pillow, but asking Captain if I could borrow his shoulder didn't seem like a good idea. The fact that he didn't have his mask meant he was probably feeling irritated anyway. He probably only had it off so he could see at least to a reasonable extent, after all, he'd be blind with it on in the dark.

 I started pushing gravel out of the way with my feet and once a small patch was cleared I moved forward and laid down on it, feet against the road block. It was much colder and the jacket didn't do much to help. Tiny bits of gravel stuck my back and I immediately regretted the position. I sighed and sat up, taking the jacket off and folded it into a make-shift pillow. After tucking it behind my head I laid back down and tried again.

 It was much more comfortable, but still cold. I tried ignoring it and eventually started to slip off. I was up five minutes later, irritated. I started to sit up but something hit me. I yelped and thrashed against it for a second then realized it was Captain's trench coat.

 My hands flattened against it and I lowered it down onto me. It was big enough to serve as a full body blanket and blocked out all the chill. I rested my head back down on my make-shift pillow and pulled the jacket up with me, hearing Captain shift and smiling under the coat.

 "Thanks." I called meekly.

 In the back of my head I started checking off a list of reasons why he’d be taking extra care. Usually he’d let me fend for myself and only help if I asked, that’s just the way things worked. He never took any steps I didn’t ask for.

 A heavy feeling of anticipation started in my stomach.

 It happened once in a blue moon, and it was completely random. All of a sudden he’d be much more okay with affectionate things or stuff that slightly teetered off the “friendship zone” we usually stayed in.

 He’d always do something extra during those times, just little things that almost seemed like apologies for him wanting affection. He never said or did anything that told me he felt that way, but his body language was obvious. After living with him for so long, little things like letting me lean on him sent off a warning bell.

 I swallowed and felt myself flatten out against the asphalt. The feeling of anticipation was overwhelming and I closed my eyes against it. It wasn’t scaring me or freaking me out, it was just the fact that I had no idea what was coming that was so unnerving.

 As soon as I heard him shift the anticipation rose and I was left in the dark. He must have been wearing more layers because I heard his cloths shift with him and pause for a few moments before continuing his movement. After that he didn’t make any more sound.

 I realized how tensed up I was and relaxed. The pressure on my back eased up and I started breathing again. I hadn’t even noticed I was holding my breath until then, and everything seemed to cool down once I settled. I had just started to drift off again when I felt a hand touched my face. I relaxed further into it and kept my eyes closed while it ran through my hair gently and rubbed my head before tilting it up.

 Feeling someone else's skin on mine was exhilarating. After not touching another person for at least a year, it felt grossly intimate. The urge to throw myself forward and drown in it was overwhelming, and I almost lost it when I felt him hover over me and kiss.

 It was the chastest thing I'd ever felt and the feeling in my gut shrivelled. He kept moving his hand and rubbed small circles into my forehead while holding my head up with the other. His lips were chapped and I could feel small places where they'd split while he moved them against mine.

 I'd heard people describe kisses as electric or passionate, but neither of those words fit the situation. It was hazy and fervent, and the constant need to smother myself in him was exigent. I wanted to be closer but didn't move because I knew he'd stop if I did.

 I tried stopping myself from making a sound, or anything that would bring him back to reality. It was so hard, and when he shifted to get closer, everything fell apart. I whimpered and he stopped immediately.

 It was a barely-there sound but he caught it. Everything stopped. He pulled back and the hand that rubbed circles moved away and down to where his coat was on me. He pulled it down until my arms were free and waited.

 A invitation to leave.

 I felt numb and the feeling in my gut came back as soon as he moved away. I wanted to go after him so bad but it seemed like a death sentence now that he was back in his own head. I opened my eyes and looked up for him but couldn't see a thing, even though I knew he was right in front of me.

 Everything felt wrong. Wrong because he was right there and I couldn't touch him. Just out of reach, and the only person stopping me from reaching out was me.

 *In a split-second decision I reached out and curled my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. I laid there and didn't move, just holding him there and quietly breathing while seconds ticked by. I flinched when he moved his hand over mine and held it. I closed my eyes against the feeling."

 Note 2: So that's it! Thanks for reading this WIP, the first piece of semi-romantic/creepy thing I've written between two people in a long time. Ah, I live for those moments! If you have any critique or comments, don't be afraid to comment below telling me so! Feedback is key for a writer, and it always helps the process. 

Journal Snippet: Late Night Bitter

 Note and Explanation: The following is a snippet from my journal, and because it's from there, the chances of it making sense are very low. A forewarning, there will be a lot of run-on sentences and things that may provoke you to ask if I was high while writing, but don't fear. This is just a glimpse at what I'm really thinking a good 70% of the time, and you'll probably look at me funny afterwards. 

Note #2: The point in posting these is so I can look back at my inner thoughts during my teen years. Think of this as a experiment. After all, who doesn't want to look back and see how stupid they really were? Haha! This particular piece was written roughly around 3:15am after I marathoned Doctor Who. I also would like to note that I sound like a angry drunk during this one. A angry drunk who likes to use extravagant words far to much and is overly melodramatic. Perfection in it's prime. 

 "--There comes a point when enough is enough. When "what did I do?" no longer stands as a innocent question and becomes a statement of ignorance instead.

 Pity is not a suitable reason to continue doing something that makes you suffer. Hope, if you can call it that, eventually has to give way to the undeniable truth.

 When someone bothers you, and I mean really bothers you, there comes a point when it has to stop. No matter how bad the consequences may get, or no matter how much pseudo 'trust' you place in them, things need to disperse.

 When you look at the situation and realize that you've heard the words you're saying and remember that someone else has said them to you before. When you realize that the person patronizing you, and how you feel, is nothing new. When you realize that all along, this is the game you've played. Roles reversed.

 Maturity is when you can no longer use the word as a noun for boasting.

 The walls break and you know and realize the faults you've done and seen, the faults you've been delivered and the faults you've had to fix for other people. The faults you've had to apologize for voicing concern over, and the absolute arrogance a brat has to tell you otherwise.

 The sheer arrogance alone stands for a disperse. The sheer ignorance some people have towards others...

 Anger is a ugly thing. Something that a lot of people bury and deter and try to sway until it fades back again. But when someone, someone your at fault for keeping around, scratches against the wall you've built and whines until it's fallen, then a stand has to be taken.

 An island. Shrouded and shielded by oceans of nothing.

 Isolated. That's where you go.

 That, is where you flee after the great fight. That, will either be your undoing, or the moment you turn to ash.

 Being alive doesn't depend on whether your walking and talking. It's all in your head. Fantasy, history, theory, question... These are the things that keep you running, aren't they?

 Life on Earth is powered by different forms of energy. One of the greatest sources is the sun, isn't it?

 Funny.

 Bitterness. That's another thing that keeps you running. Another core thing that floats around in that vacant head of yours. What else is there? Hmm? Stories, definitely. They're one of the only reasons we're here today. And her, of course.

 It's therapeutic, talking to yourself. Most people don't realize how strangely intriguing it can be. For example, the last few paragraphs. Stupid.

 I'm bored. Always. It's a dull feeling, but every once and awhile it fades and I get a few moments of enjoyment. Still angry though. I'm always angry. Always primed for a fight, after all, all that un-solved melodrama has to have some use."

Journal Snippet: Writer's World

 Note and Explanation: The following is a snippet from my journal, and because it's from there, the chances of it making sense are very low. A forewarning, there will be a lot of run-on sentences and things that may provoke you to ask if I was high while writing, but don't fear. This is just a glimpse at what I'm really thinking a good 70% of the time, and you'll probably look at me funny afterwards.


 Dear Journal,

 detail is one of my favorite things. they're what makes something interesting, what can change a idea into something completely different and show it in a light that could completely change the way it's not only viewed, but is.

 sometimes all you have to do is look at something in a way that varies from your own and a whole new world is revealed. a whole new palet of colors that light up a canvas into new tastes and textures, and has the potential to redefine the way something has been wired to do.

 detail, thought and colors are some of life's greatest things. they shape our world into something completely different and it's beautiful in a way that most things could never hope to achieve.

 the canvas of life and nature come in many colors and shades even though some people like to believe that it's all black and white. there are so many ways things can be looked at that it's almost arrognat to think that there can only be a certain way to see things, and that your view is correct.

 thought and imagination comes across as certain colors in my mind, different swirls and shapes that can be redefined and woven into stories and pseudo lives that can give people the same life essence then if they were the characters themselves.

 detail apon detail layered into a carefully woven story or painting filled with colors and shadows and the omnipotent beings that hover it their wake.

 how different things are and how effective those colors and thoughts and worlds can be are what details make up. the tiny yet beautiful way things are stringed along and how in moments of distraction how smothering how lives can seemed compared to the bliss that other people live.

 a writer's world can be shattered and rebuilt a hundred times over with details removed and added with a flick of our fingers and a change of palet. the gritty green of a grape in a italian wine grove can change into a coffee on a rainy day in a shop located in downtown new york with a single train of thought.

 moods and colors, textures and life can be breathed into the harshest stories. even those surrounding death can paint the canvas with dark blue despair and white pain.

 the most devine thing a writer can experience is when the line between our canvas and the grey of our own world blurs and the cavas and palet we've used to forge a world with becomes a part of our own in a slash of colors and feelings that never fade. the  thrill of adventure we get while writing our characters, our silent friends, running across rooftops or fighting off their foes.

 the feeling of immersion and importance it brings is almost addictive in the way it allures us across the line and our world flies by with the words we write or draw.

 how devious are we that we could create our own masterpeices and be overtaken by them? it's a question left unanswered, because in the end, why would we care?

Unstable Relationships

 As a introvert, I sometimes get this feeling in the back of my head that tells me I don't need people, that I could make it fine by my own.

 While that little voice does has some reason behind it, I tend to ignore it because in the end there's nothing worse then being so arrogant as to agree to that.

 However, there are times when I do side with it more then usual. This usually happens when my bullshit meter starts clicking or when things are particularly sketchy with my friends/family. Or both, usually.

 When that happens I usually start paying closer attention to people, how they interact with me, and how the general mood is. It's surprising how strange things get when you pay close attention to those things.

 Sometimes I ask myself "is it me, or them? Have I done something wrong, or are things just not working between us?" It's a surprisingly odd question to ask yourself when it comes to fellow relationships with people.

 However, like I said, I think of it alot. I don't like to consider myself picky when it comes to friends and family, but there are some things that make me question our relationship.

 When it comes to relationships, the only way it'll function is if both parties are interested in the relationship. If not, then what's the point? Why keep going and make each other miserable? I've never understood why people have such a hard time doing this. If you don't enjoy the friendship, or even try to pretend you like it, when why keep it "official"? There's nothing wrong with parting ways with someone you don't like.

  People confuse me in that way.

 When it comes to relationships, sometimes it's easy to think you can do without them if times are tough. In reality, I think that pretty much everyone has to have at least one person to talk to. Thinking you can productively live otherwise is a bit of a long shot. Not impossible, no, but hard.

 I lasted a year without any contact and that almost drove me up the wall. Of course, it was also my own version of monk mountain training while fighting bears under waterfalls... Not to mention the politics and culture I was learning about. That helped, of course. Distractions are the best treatment for loneliness.

 "Is me me, or them?" A strange question, definitely. There are many different ways you could look at it.

 If it is your fault, then why? What are you doing, and is it a response to something they've done, or your own personality?

 If it's theirs, then what are they doing? Is it a response to something you've done or is it just them?

 How well do you two work together, how many interests do you share, and how well do you function as friends? Do you talk a lot? Avoid each other? Do you have conflicting opinions? Personalities? The list goes on.

 Of course there are always tough times during a friendship, but at some points you have to ask yourself, will this work? Do I want this?

 Whatever the answer is, sometimes all you have to do is say what your feeling and don't dance around the subject. If things aren't working, then that's fine. You have to take your own path, even if it means leaving someone behind.

 I've always had trouble making the right friends, or finding forms of companionship in general. Maybe it's because I've been in the same circle for awhile, but I don't know. In my experience, if you don't look in the right places, it can be very hard to find friends who share legitimate interests and mutually care about each other. To say the least, this is one of the things that led me to becoming a introvert and having trust issues in the first place.

 Finding functional friendships is a difficult task, but I think it really pays off in the end. Some friendship don't even have to have mutual interests in them! For example, me and my cousin. We share absolutely no interests or hobbies, but at the moment she's the only person I can fall completely in sync with. We care about each other, and that's all it really takes!

 - Laura.

Bad Things (Negative Post, oh lord)

 The elections are coming up soon. I'm scared. Honest to god, I am tearing up over it because I am so afraid of what might happen, what could happen, and how easily it could be done.

 People talk about the bad in the world all the time. It's something parents mention, or half-mention, through most of your child hood. "It's a big world out there," they say. It's something the news focus' on, and newspapers and blogs. There's always enough material to go around.

 I don't think a lot of people realize how bad it is, and can be. How bad things really are if you look close enough, not just economically, but morally. I really don't blame them for not trying too hard either.

 I don't know in any way how bad things can be, how far they can go. But, I've caught glimpse. Peeked through windows that show how things really are on the outside, how disturbing, how distressing.

 Things opened up for me, after a incident I had. It was a video.
It seemed harmless at first, and I was curious, so why not hit play? I saw the comments, knew something bad was going to happen, but I thought I could take it.

 It horrified me. Not in a way that I was disgusted by it, or angry, but sad. I just didn't understand, couldn't comprehend, why something like that would happen. I didn't even know why I was crying at first, maybe it was for the guy in the video, or maybe it was because of what was happening to him. I don't know.

 I saw a little bit of evil that day. Life suddenly became much more then anime and yaoi, smut and bands. There was a kind of sick appreciation for all the bad things you see on tv and how genuinely /fake/ it is.

 I started getting into politics, LGBT rights, and the world in general. Things like that video started phasing me less, and changed from shock to disgust.

 I've barely seen the surface of things, but I have a idea of how they look. That's why the elections scare me. Terrify me, actually. Because there's the question in the back on my mind asking "What if Obama isn't re-elected?"

 What if? How much worse will things get if we have President Romney sitting on the throne?

 Ever since I've gotten into politics, I can't ignore it anymore. Can't just say "that's it!" and stop paying attention. I can't just play the "I'm a kid" card and not think about any of this.

 I'm aware, so why not worry about it? So what if I can't change anything, the least I can do is think about it now so I have experience later!

 It's scary. I don't like it. Honestly, thinking about what's out there makes me want to curl into a ball and make sure I never bring a kid into this country unless I know it'll be safe. It makes things harder because I understand things better now and see the bad all the time.

 Even in friends, family, strangers, whether they're aware of it or not, there's are the small judgements, almost-there insults, and even wrong sentences that could have so much effect if said to the wrong person. Just tiny mistakes that I know they don't mean, but the fact that we live in a place where those phantom-intentions could exist is troubling.

 I don't like the world.  I don't like the way it is, or how some of it functions. It scares me, makes me want to stay in my solitary haven of open-mindedness and ignore all the bad things out there. All the monsters under the bed. But you can't spend you life hiding.

 So even though I know how bad it can get, and even though I've gotten to the point where a world confined to my hobbies seems like a ignorant nightmare, I'm still me. I'm a optimist. I have hope. I can still see the light in the world, the good.

 And that's the silver lining.

Self-Image

 Strength is something that attracts me. Mentally, physically, and intellectually. Physical strength has always been important to me, since day one.

 The ability to fight someone and pose a fair challenge, or to run faster then your friends or family and feel the ground pass underneath you is one of the best feelings.

 It's a weirdly addicting thing.

 To be strong, physically, has always been important to me because it adds a layer of comfort. To know that you can take care of yourself, and not be afraid to confront people, is empowering.

 Kung Fu was nice for me because I got to hone my physical skill, and practice with other people. It was great and kept me in shape, but now that it's gone, and I haven't invested in other ways to stay fit that way. I've grown rusty.

 I'm reasonably strong intellectually, and I've spent the last year strengthening myself culturally and politically. Mental strength is something I value more then physical muscle, and it will always be that way. But, I'm at the point right now where I not only need, but want, to train myself physically. Not because of the power or strength, but because of how I see my body.

 I'm comfortable with my body. I don't hate it like I used to, but I'm not happy with it either. I know I'm too soft, too squishy, and even though I can throw a good punch, it's not my full potential. I want to be able to run longer then I can now, and I want to be able to take someone on physically if the time calls for it.

 My ideal body type is iffy, but I know what I have in mind. The stocky/robust body type is what I want to aim for. Strong and muscled, but not necessarily skinny. I could care less how big my waist is, what I want out of the way is fat. Again, not to be skinny, but to replace it with muscle.

 So I have a goal this summer. I want to get that body type, or at least start the journey towards it. I'll go running, take trips to the gym, and at least try to start eating regular meals. Even though I'm heavy now, it's not because I'm over-eating. It's because I eat small snacks here and there and never work the calories off.

 I don't know when I'll start this plan, but I want to do it soon. There are definitely some steps that'll be hard to take, but I want to make the journey and get to my goal.

 I've also thought about cutting my hair so it's shorter. It would definitely be easier to manage, but I'm nervous about cutting the hair I've been growing for so long. It's decision I'll eventually make, maybe when I achieve my bodily goal, but for now I'll leave it.

 Anyway, that's all for now. Or maybe not, I don't know. I guess we'll have to see

 -Laura.

Five Stories

 1. I confuse right and left a lot and usually forget which way is which. The way I figure it out is by twitching my right leg, and there's a story behind this!

 When I used to do Kung Fu we'd regularly have to switch our leg positions to do our different Shaolin Power Fist sets or simple kick/punch movements. Whenever we'd have to switch legs our Master (now Grand-master! <3) would shout out "Right/Left leg back!", so whenever I forget right/left I move my right leg back as a reflex and remember.

 Another small story is about our teacher, Master Kravets. Since the day I met him when I was 9 I've only ever called him that! He has a name of course, but even outside the dojo it always felt wrong to address him in any other way. His wife, who was also one of our teachers, we called Sifu! I've always addressed them as those names and even though I don't practice Kung Fu anymore (though I really would love to...) I still call them by those names, because as cheesy as it sounds, they're still my teachers and I will always respect them that way.

 2. One time when I went to the dentist there was a male nurse/assistant who was taking my x-rays.

 While we were walking to the rooms he asked me what my name was. I told him Laura and he asked if I liked my name. I told him no, and then he asked what I'd change it to if I could. I told him "I wouldn't change it." and then he asked why.

 I didn't have time to catch myself and ended up answering "Because sometimes you just have to deal with things you don't like." He was surprised and even gasped a little, which made me blush a bit. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was sometimes along the lines of "That's very wise, more people should think like that."

 I don't know why, but it really made me happy.

 3. One of the times that I've felt close to peace was one night in December 2010. I was dating my best friend then, and she was having a sleep-over. The two of us sneaked outside and sat in my mom's meditation garden, looking at the stars and talking. I was wearing my new $50 coat and the two of us were struggling to sit on the chair together. She was really cold so we didn't get to stay out long, I remember really wanting to stay out there and watch the stars with her.

 4. When I was with my girlfriend I was really touchy-feel-y and a general cuddler. We'd always be joined at the hip and talking each other's ears off until someone dragged us apart and whenever she'd sleep over we'd always be in the same bed (there was no way either of us would settle for the floor). Now, since I was a cuddler, we'd automatically spoon. I was always the big spoon and I'd always have to have my arms around her waist otherwise I couldn't sleep.

 To this day, even though I don't see her anymore, I still have the habit. After doing for my whole childhood, I can't sleep unless I have my arms around a pillow or sleep in a position where my arms are doing something.

 5. During one of the time when my cousin was visiting me my house, me and her decided to play with the candle I had in my room. We took popsicle sticks, matches, and scrap pieces of paper and fed it to the fire we started in a small tin can. After five or ten minutes, it got so big that it set the fire-detector off!

 Now, my mom was sleeping, so we were both immediately scared that it was going to wake her up. The two of us yelled at each other to get water and I ended up running down the hall to our bathroom, cupping water from the faucet in my hands and running back to dump it on the pit we'd started.

 The entire area of the dresser it was sitting on was scorched and I ended up having to make three trips in order to put it out. By then, my cousin had run out of the room and into my sisters.

 My mom woke up, of course, and came to see what the problem was. My cousin strolled out of my sister's room and put on a surprised face while saying "What happened? :O" I ended up lying through my teeth and as soon as the alarm shut off me and my cousin wrestled then laughed it off.