#should i study biology or should i keep posting stuff or should i panic for not writing

[defnot-naurr]

when u have over 1000 pins on your Pinterest for your characters-a six hours playlist and 30 unorganized ideas of dialogues/scenes also-and eve THE FREAKING PLOT PLANNED BUT U CANT JUST REMEMBER HOW TO WRITE.

#the brainstormer #brainstormed too much now idk how to write #should i study biology or should i keep posting stuff or should i panic for not writing #writers #memes #writing #writing stuff #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writer struggles #young writers

[ancient-depressed-druid]

Tyrys Week, day 2: Comfort And Confessions

One hour to the end of today and I finally got time to post this chapter, this week is gonna be wild

Tj was shaking on his way to the swings that Monday afternoon. He was going to travel to out of the country for a two-month vacation at his aunt Sheyla's house in Scotland and was debating with himself if he should come out to Cyrus during a near future (possibly), which lead him to the swings, the best option to lay out some stress without all the sweat of the basketball hoop behind his house.

While making his way to the park, tj remembered all the times he had come out that year.

--

01

After his last game of basketball playing for Jefferson middle, tj and his parents went home for a rare homemade dinner, an event kept only for special occasions where tj and his parents would cook together some meal and chat for the whole time. Tj thought that was maybe the best moment he would get any time soon to come out to his parents, so right after they finished layering the lasagna and shoved it up on the oven, he started talking.

“Mom, dad” he stole their attention from their wine bottle, both looked attentively to their nervous son. “I… I have something I need to tell you” Tj stuttered but still looked them in the eyes.

“What is it Ty?” his mom asked with her soft voice, her simple clothes still a little wrinkled from dressing too quickly after her hospital shift to be at her son’s game on time,  her soft blond hair, a tone lighter than Tj’s own, fell at her shoulders with light curls and her green eyes that contrasted beautifully with her faintly tanned skin full of worry.

The basketball player looked at his father, an older version of himself, only with red hair and a full beard, his paler face exhibited the same concern his wife, they love me enough to be worried Tj said to himself internally I can do it.

Taking a deep gulp of air, he looked at his parent's eyes and left forgotten his prepared speech to a short and simple sentence “I'm pansexual” he said as he closed his eyes, not ready to recognize the rejection on his parent's faces.

“Ty,” his father’s voice called him after a couple seconds, he opened his eyes to see their faces full of confusion and another expression he could not exactly pinpoint confused “as much as I would like to say I fully support you” Tj’s heart beat so loud he almost didn’t listen to the end of his father’s sentence “but I think neither me nor your mom could say that without lying to you, since we both don’t have idea of what does that term means” he finished with an understanding expression, almost as he was hurting for not being able to fully support his child in this particular moment as much as he did on every other aspect of his life (including the discovery of his dyscalculia).

His mom seemed to feel the same, as she took a hold of Tj’s hand placed over the table, thumb softly massaging the back of it to assure her son that they meant no harm to him at any moment, only looking to comprehend what he was telling them. Fuck he thought again, exhaling the air stuck in his lungs for the last minute or so I'm so lucky to have them supporting and trying to understand me he then remembered daniel’s words about his family’s views on sexuality and got a little sad for the boy.

“I am pansexual,” he started, oh so much calmer now that his parents weren't going to get mad at him for being himself “ and being pansexual means I’m attracted to a person, no matter their gender identity.” His parents still seemed confused at that explanation “ This means that I can love either a boy, a girl, a person that is both or a person that is neither of those things” his parents looked less confused now, but his mom started crying and got up from her seat to hug Tj. His dad also hugged him, making all of them part of a family hug completed with sobs and wet tears from all three of the Kippens.

Suddenly a loud pig came from the stove, the warning that their dinner was ready, they were quick to separate from the hug and settle the table for the meal, their usual rhythm coming back as his mom cracked jokes and his father told them about his latest project on the firm he worked.

“So you guys are not mad at me?” Tj asked after a few minutes of eating his second portion of lasagna (his parents were indeed really good cooks), mouth still full of the delicious treat. His parents looked at him as if he had grown another head on his arm all of the sudden.

“Why would we be mad at you, ty?” his mom asked, taking a sip of her glass of wine to wash down the food she just swallowed.

“You know because I’m not straight?” he said a little lower “There’s this kid at school, he’s gay, and his parents didn’t fully accept it…”

“Oh baby, I so deeply sorry for your friend, but we want you to know we fully support you, even though we may need a few days to search more about the LGBT community.” His mom answered him.

“And we’re actually kind of ashamed, we didn’t know we were raising you in such a way you felt uncertain of our reaction to this subject, and if you ever felt pressurized to be something you aren’t, we are profoundly sorry for it.”

“And I'm sorry for you to even consider this wrong, how could I feel anything other than pride for my baby boy being able to love someone without restrictions?”

Tj smiled despite the squeezing feeling at his chest, he was so relieved he had understanding parents that loved and encouraged him that much

--

02

Tj never really came out during his first year of high school, he didn’t announce it publically with a megaphone, at the sound of born this way from lady gaga, and a rainbow parade complete with pink glitter in the middle of the cafeteria. It actually when pretty non-climatic to be honest.

He had just entered (after much work and dedication) the basketball team, being the only freshman to play court, so, as per usual on this situations, he got to be a little bit of a celebrity among his peers, being given high fives from random people at the halls, invited to parties at houses he didn't know the owner and girls asked him out almost every week.

So it wasn’t a surprise when his older teammates came near him at his locker during his interval between biology and history (both his favorite subjects, since he couldn’t choose between them both) and took a view of the inside of that said locker, where Tj had put up a small Panic! At The Disco poster (he got really into it since that day), sided by his class schedule, a note from Cyrus wishing him good lock on his high school journey and a small pansexual flag with the words ‘love is love’ written on it.

“YO KIPPENSTER!” called his team captain, Carlos, came accompanied by two other players- Alex and Leo – and the three seniors stopped behind him, hands on his shoulder in a sort of rough massage as Tj replaced his books for the next period.

“My man, why is there a random flag with that girly shit written in it?” asked Leo in a friendly mockery. Tj didn’t even look at them as he responded with half a mind

“That’s the pansexual flag. As in attracted to any gender or biological sex, as in my flag” and realizing what he just blurted out without a care in the world he dreaded himself for if those were panphobic shitheads he, without a doubt, might as well without a doubt he be throwing out all his hard work in the nearest trash can available.

“Oh, okay.” He heard his mates answer and the following “We don’t really give a fuck to who you fuck as long as you keep playing like you did yesterday. And talking about fucking, you going to Thalissa's party this weekend? You have to get laid man!”

--

And that was that up until now he had come out without any problematic consequences, his parents had gotten more involved with lgbtqa rights and his teammates only tried to join him with their friend and random people until they caught him smiling dumbly to his phone after a long practice and none other but forced him to confess his crush on Cyrus and proceded to tease him lightly every time Cyrus went to watch a game at  high school.

However, none of that mattered in sight of telling Cyrus about his crush on him.

Tj was really close to the swings the moment he identified the hunched up form of his friend (and object of his affection), Cyrus goodman.

“Hey, underdog!” he called as he got closer to the set of swings he knew all too well by now.

“Oh hey Tj!” the smaller boy greeted him with a visible lack of enthusiasm.

“What you swinging for?” he asked the now common question between them

“You are probably gonna think I'm stupid for it,” the Jewish boy said looking down at his black sneakers.

“After all this time you still think the worst of me, underdog?” Tj joked as a way of telling the boy he was safe “is that what you take from our relationship till now?” he said and cursed at himself internally, his mouth needed a better filter or else he would just keep coming out to people without the intention to do so and one day he would get himself in a bad situation, just as this one, he thought.

Cyrus, however, didn’t seem phased by the sentence, more worried about his actual problem than overanalyzing his friends choice of words. He sighed and seemed to accept his fate as to tell Tj his problems, the basketball player sat beside the boy on the other swing.

“Take your time” he tried to lift a little bit of the obvious pressure on the other boy's shoulders. Cyrus seemed to take the advice to heart as they sat there in a pregnant silence for almost five minutes.

“I'm afraid of going to high school” he blurted just as Tj thought this subject would just be classified as more of their ‘stuff’ and never spoken about again Tj face frowned in confusion.

“What are you talking about,” he said with light a voice “we’re going to study at the same school again,” he could not control his smile nor the butterflies on his stomach at the mere thought of being able to see Cyrus every day at school again “what would be there to be afraid? You’ll miss Slayer too much?” he joked

Cyrus seemed torn between happiness at the prospect of studying with Tj again and almost desperate by whatever else he was feeling.

“Tj, I'm not afraid of going to a different school from Buffy, I mean, I’ll still have andi and we’re still gonna go out together…” he affirmed with confidence “I'm afraid because I AM different” at Tj’s utter confusion he forced himself to say the words that still sounded too heavy at his own tongue “Tj, I’m gay”

Tj’s heart sank to his stomach, beat faster than ever before and not beat at all, all at the same time at what those words implied. He had a chance, the slightest that it was, it was still bigger and better than what he had imagined.

“Underdog, I can assure you no one gives a shit about your sexuality in high school,” he said, and then realizing how he had sounded he tried to fix his words “I mean, people won't treat you different just for that, I won't treat you any different” Cyrus seemed relieved, but then his anxiety came back with more doubts at his head.

“How can you be so sure?” he inquired from the older boy “ How can you affirm to me that I won't be made fun of or beaten or anything like that?” he grew even more anxious with every word, as well as did Tj, but for completely different reasons.

“I can be one hundred percent honest with you because” his throat felt drier than sandpaper, his hands sweeter than a fat kid on the line to the last McDonald’s burger ever. It felt like he was Lúcifer going to confess his sins to God himself (mental note, don’t read paradise lost after ten pm, or else you’ll end up making more religious comparisons). “I can tell that because I'm not quite straight and I haven't suffered any major bullying during this whole year”

Cyrus stared at him with a blank face, now completely calm all of a sudden “So let me get this right,” he started with a monotone tone to his voice “you are gay”

“Pansexual actually” the blonde boy interrupted.

“So you’re pansexual” Cyrus's voice acquired a heavier, more full of anger tone at every word “and you’ve been out to strangers for a whole year” he was now nearly shouting but contained himself “but to me, ‘one of your best friends’” he made quotes on air “you chose not to say a word?”

“Yes?” Tj said nor sure if he was supposed to be feeling bad or angry about what Cyrus was telling him. But then, before he could weight his options fully, Cyrus made something I've never seen before coming from the boy.

“Fuck!” Cyrus cursed, leaving Tj astonished “Oh my god, Tj, I’m such a shitty friend, ugh, I made you somehow feel like you couldn’t come to me and talk about it unintentionally, haven't I?” he started to beat himself up, that made the taller boy’s heart feel tight on his chest.

“No, Underdog, it's not like that.” He calmed the boy, holding his hands to stop him on his over the top sequence of gestures, it’s now or never. C’mon men, you can do it. Tell him how you feel!  “I didn’t say anything before because, because I…” that moment, Cyrus phone started to ring.

Looking apologetically to Tj, Cyrus got up from the swing set and answered the call. Tj only waited, knowing full well that Cyrus’ parents only called him on emergencies, preferring not to disturb their son during the day if not for something important.

Minutes later the brown-haired boy was back in front of Tj, biding his goodbyes and walking home, Tj and his reasons forgotten in midst of whatever his parents told him that left him in a near catatonic state. Tj watched him run home as his own cellphone ringed in his sweats’ pockets, most probably his mom calling him home so they could travel.

--

Cyrus arrived home were his two pairs of parents waited for him, having already come out to them not long ago made him feel lighter around them and allowed him to act more instinctively by their side.

He couldn’t believe when his dad told him on the phone, still processing the news ‘you’re gonna be a big brother’. But in his living room, he found his mom and stepmom both talking and touching their bellies in a protective way.

He was never happier than that afternoon, receiving the news of two babies on their way, commemorating until late with his family, he only remembered to tell his friends after he got up to his bedroom, too tired to keep partying on the first floor.

He sent a text to buffy and andi marking to see them the next day to share the news and was ready to send Tj the same text when he saw he had a voicemail from a said basketball player. curious, he made his phone play it.

“Hey, Underdog,” Tj’s voice sounded clear through the speaker “it’s me, obviously. I hope everything is okay with your parents” Cyrus smiled at the kind gesture  “I'm calling to give you a heads up that I'm leaving the country for two months since I’m gonna visit my aunt in Scotland…” he felt his heart sink a little, his best friend was going to leave for two whole months.

“about earlier, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was such a coward and didn’t tell you before, I'm so, so sorry.” He felt bad for Tj, the blond’s voice sounded strangled from emotion “I guess I thought you would see me in a different way if I’ve told you, or maybe you would realize how obvious I am” Tj let out a sad chuckle and Cyrus got even more confused at that exclamation.

“ you know, I wanted to do it face to face, but I guess this way you can have time to think about it  better without me around, you can decide how to act when I come back, if you want to keep things as they are…” there was a loud sigh from Tj, Cyrus could hear the sound of running water in the background now, as well as some voices  “so this is my admission of guilt. Fuck, am I really doing this at an airport’s bathroom? I'm so fucked up…” he almost laughed if not for the serious subject of the (one-sided) conversation.

“This is me confessing my crush on you. A crush that lasts for over a year now and just grew stronger, even though I tried to find other people to like, or trying to find reasons to not like you as more than a friend.” All air from Cyrus' lungs was knocked out at the impact of that confession. Tj has a crush on me he thought to himself, unable to do any other thing than just stare blankly at his phone, the only current source of light in his dark bedroom.

“As I said before, from now on the choice is yours, you chose if we should not be friends anymore, or be just friends or if you want to try and be more than that, cause I will follow whatever path you chose, no contestations. I'm not gonna contact you during this months to give you the time to sort things out within yourself. I'm sorry for the sudden bomb I just threw on you…Just,” his voice sounded painful and closer than ever to tearing up “I'm gonna miss you during this two months… goodbye Cyrus”

#tyrus andi mack #tyrus #tyrus week #Andi Mack #cj andi mack #tj kippen x cyrus goodman #cyrus x tj #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #pansexual tj #confessions

[organisaticns]

so im due to start at cambridge university for bio natural sciences in october and i thought i would write a post about what helped me make a successful application. hopefully this is useful to some people!! (also this is an incredibly long post you’ve been warned)

if anyone wants me to do a more in depth post on one specific section, or you guys have any questions at all, feel free to drop me a message!!

choosing a course

this is the most important bit!!! you’re dedicating 3/4/5/6 years of your life to this

oxbridge as rule (esp cambridge) have slightly different courses to other universities so do your research - on their websites and at open days

i know top students are supposed to apply to oxbridge bc “it’s the best” and stuff but if the courses offered don’t interest you or you prefer how other unis teach that course, DON’T APPLY!! it’s not worth it 

generally, look at your a level/ib/etc subjects and which sort of courses they meet the entry requirements for then look at websites and stuff to try and narrow it down

talk to current students! the blog askacambridgestudent on tumblr is great, each area has an oxbridge conference each april if you can go, ask students at open days

they can tell you what it’s actually like

read some books in the subject area you’re considering, watch ted talks, go to masterclasses, do work experience

this will help you choose a course and also be useful later when you write your personal statement

okay so when i was applying people kept telling me i would only be successful if the only thing i thought about 24/7 was biology and it was the love of my life. this is not true. you can have other interests don’t believe the people that tell you that you cant

that being said you need to be passionate about your subject!! refer to bullet point 1!! they want to know that you’re interested in it and this needs to show

oxford vs cambridge

this is really hard for some people but my course is only offered at cambridge so i did not have this problem

so first see if you prefer the course offered at one of them

if not, visit both and hopefully you’ll get a better vibe from one

i have no good advice here

writing your personal statement

okay writing a ps is just not fun okay prepare yourself for that

if anyone wants a biology/natural sciences example message me and i can send you mine

this post has some really good advice

start early, aim to have it completely done and edited by early september (oxbridge deadline is 15th october)

first, think about things you want to write about - i wrote a paragraph on a book i’d read, a paragraph each on two summer schools i did, a paragraph on my epq, and a paragraph on extracurricular

things you can talk about - books, ted talks, lectures, summer schools, masterclasses, epq, independent research into stuff, work experience

when you’re writing about stuff you gotta engage with it, so dedicate a whole paragraph to one book, then take one key theme and talk about how it interested you and how you looked up other things to do with it - link it to a different concept or talk about which theory you like best if theres conflicting theories in the field etc

it’s a hard thing to do but just pick different bits you liked about the book and try to discuss it - a key theory, theme, character etc

you can be asked about your ps in interview so make sure you’re comfortable discussing the books on your ps

you also do not need to talk about multiple books if you don’t want to, i only talked about one and i know people who didn’t mention any

don’t just say things like “im passionate about biology”!! back it up with something!! say you’re passionate about one specific topic in your field and why, discuss how different things you did/read consolidated your interest, show your interest through discussion about the subject

try to link in slightly different subject areas or experiences, and definitely link everything to your course and why you’d be a good student

i managed to link my latin AS level to biology so anything is possible folks

while you want all your paragraphs to be very supercurricular based on things you’ve done and read, try and drop in some of those buzz words they love - you know like about your academic writing skills, enthusiasm, opportunity, dedication, communication, interdisciplinary skills etc.

oxbridge do not give a shit about your extracurricular but other unis do so you want one paragraph max on it and try to link it to transferable skills - it makes you a good communicator etc

write your first draft - it will be shitty but just write it, leave the intro and conclusion to last

introductions and conclusions are super hard to write but it’s doable. try to take the general idea you’re trying to include (mine was how interdisciplinary study is important to both all the sciences together and sub disciplines in bio) and write a little bit about it

it doesn’t have to be long, your intro should introduce your passion to the subject (please don’t do the whole “i’ve wanted to study bio since i was five and x happened” thing)

conclusion can be super short, just reinforce you’re excited to study your subject in a new environment and have new opportunities

look at the tsr examples for inspiration

try to make it cohesive ish? have a running theme? (like how this one has a running theme? i actually took a lot of inspiration from that ps)

don’t say things like “im a motivated and commited student with good time management skills” without smth to back it up - “while undertaking an independent research project, i developed time management skills, and researching x made me more interested bc y” is better (i mean still not incredible but i wrote that literally just now okay)

the student room has a load of examples from people who’ve already applied

read the ones in your subject, work out which bits you like and don’t like, apply to your own (be careful of plagiarism tho)

disclaimer: not all the ps on there are good

once you have a complete and awful first draft show it to a teacher

most people show it to the relevant subject teacher, but also to your tutor, the higher education adviser, oxbridge adviser

they will hopefully help you make it less awful but don’t let them change it so much it doesn’t sound like you

i showed mine to the oxbridge adviser at my school and well he laughed at it bc it was so bad so you know

but i didn’t listen to everything he said bc some of the things he wrote like no 17 year old would say

keep revising drafts, showing to teachers until you can’t stand reading it anymore then get someone else (maybe parents?) to spell check and be done with the horrible thing

no one likes their personal statement, you will read it in august and wonder how you could possibly write something so bad

the actual ucas application

make sure your predicted grades are at least as high as the entrance requirements

you don’t really have much control over your teacher reference but you can use it to mention things you couldn’t fit in your personal statement if you can convince your teachers to include stuff

make sure all your qualifications and stuff are accurate

the saq (cambridge only)

you have to fill this in straight after october 15th

it’s mostly boring admin stuff, filling in topics and class sizes etc.

you have an option to write an additional (shorter) personal statement

this is really useful if the course you’re applying to at oxbridge is different to the other courses youve applied to - such as if you applied to politics everywhere else but hsps at cambridge - use it to explain why you want to do that specific course at cambridge

but you definitely don’t have to write one, i didnt!

make sure you get this in on time

written work

for some courses you have to send in written work

i didn’t have to so i don’t have loads of advice, but make sure you send in stuff that you’re comfortable discussing at interview

they’ll be guidelines on the cambridge website and on your specific college’s website

admissions tests

not the most fun things

find the specification on the website and go through, highlighting and revising the points you don’t know

try to find some past papers and do them

this really depends on the subject you’re doing so i can’t give much more advice but if anyone needs advice specific to the NSAA shoot me a message

also, these are just part of your application and even if you came out of yours thinking it’s the worst test you’ve ever had it probably didn’t go that badly 

the NSAA is the hardest test i’ve ever sat and i thought i had done completely shit and i still got an offer so there’s still hope

interviews

okay so first, don’t believe the rumours

you know the ones where people say they got given a banana and asked to use it to explain how quantum mechanics relates to of mice and men

interviews are definitely scary, but they are nowhere near as bad as people make them out to be, and they don’t ask you weird unrelated questions

make sure you know your personal statement inside out and you feel comfortable talking about the topics/books/etc you mentioned on there in depth

keep up to date with any recent news or high profile research in your field (you don’t need to know details, just have a vague idea of what’s going on)

this is especially important if you’re applying for politics or economics or something like that

if your school offers a mock interview, definitely have one, though don’t panic if you can’t have one there’s other ways to prepare

the whole point of interview is them wanting to see how you think and how you respond to unfamiliar problems

so i looked up a list of “past oxbridge interview questions” and practised writing down a quick answer to them and thinking about how i would go about solving the problem

oxford has some examples on the “sample questions” bit here

i also used this site but remember a lot of these probably aren’t actual interview questions 

if you have an opportunity, just talk to your relevant subject teacher about the topics beyond your specification

you honestly don’t need to do too much interview prep, just do enough so you feel a bit calmer about the whole thing

hope some of that helps :)

#ucas #a levels #oxford #cambridge #oxbridge #university #masterposts #mine

[arynchris]

Little bit of a dark holiday present for my Humans Are Space Orcs buddies.  Gawd, I love this stuff.  Never the same idea twice!

(Inspired in part by this other post over here ) So, this has been brought up before, but humans tell some scary stories.  For fun, even!  Ghost stories, old fairy tales, creepypasta, horror flicks, graphic video games, all kinds of stuff.  And we have done so for all of recorded history.  Well, maybe we’re NOT the only intelligent species in the galaxy to do so.  Maybe we’re NOT the only species who even invent frightening stories out of whole cloth, to encourage our offspring to obey, get stubborn people to keep out of contaminated zones, etc.

But humans are the only ones who tell stories about scary fellow humans.

Ythrexian scholar 675-designate-Luvius was troubled.  She had studied humans briefly in school, of course-- fascinating paradox species-- but she was a generalist, not a specialist.  Experts in the field of humanity had failed for generations to explain “criminal behavior,” so how could she hope to?  And yet, from the numerous frightened and confused information requests listed on her communication device, she was going to have to try.  She called Human mechanic Liantereasamackenzie-designate-Mackie to her meeting chamber.

The doorway decontamination field sterilized Mackie of ythrexian-hostile particles with a soft swishing noise.  “Ola, Luvius.  What can I do for you?”

Luvius lowered her posture slightly and replicated the sound of a human ‘sigh,’ indicating disappointment and mental overexertion.  Humans had instructed her that she over-used this behavior towards them, but it seemed warranted this time.  Just like the indirect method of problem reveal, to keep the human defensive and hopefully apologetic.  “Mackie, I have many requests today from the crew.  Some are quite typical and expected, but most of them are for the human term ‘axe murderer’?”

Mackie’s back straightened and her eyes widened.  “Why would they want--?!”  Then she blinked, paused.  Blinked again, and raised a hand to cover her gaping mouth.  Human facial cues were notoriously difficult to interpret, but such a dramatic elliptical mouth shape was uncommon and conveyed... Luvius checked her Restricted Access Cultural Handbook vol.Humans record... ‘horror,’ a type of emotional distress which can cause slowed reflexes or paralysis.  “...I had too much to drink last night.”

Luvius paused.  “...Alcohol, correct?  Do I remember correctly, that drinking alcohol is a human activity as well as a btri one, but humans achieve toxic overdose more quickly than btrixes?  Did you ingest too large a quantity?”  She wasn’t sure how that could be related to axe murderers, but one indirect reveal deserved another, she supposed.

Mackie nodded.  “Yes...  I forget what they called this one, but it was btrixes’ turn to introduce a new drinking game, and we all had a little too much.  Everyone had to tell a scary story from their clan or homeworld, and the better the scare, the more the group drank.  I don’t even remember what story I told... but...”

Luvius puffed her shoulder pinfeathers in aggressive bewilderment.  “How can you not remember what story you told?  Why would you tell a story that may end your species’ diplomatic relations with the entire Unified Gathering!?”

Mackie hugged herself with an obvious ‘sad’ facial cue and gazed at the floor.  Unusually quietly, she said, “Alcohol’s chemical affect on us involves muscle relaxation and slowed thinking.  But the more we drink, the worse it gets.  We lose our inhibitions... like a will to follow rules and not talk about restricted subjects.  Overdose causes memory loss.”

Luvius closed all her eyes.  This, at least, conveyed the same meaning to humans as it did to ythrexians.

“I’m so sorry, Luvius.”

She opened her eyes.  “Sorrow is appropriate!  I do not know how to answer these requests.  You are to blame for this incident, and yet it is my responsibility to incite the ensuing riot of consequences!  Whether you sorrow for the loss to your species or for the emotional and professional distress you cause me as one of your pack-bonded crew members, there is no more appropriate emotion.  Except contrition, perhaps.”

She watched Mackie blink, the human’s face contorting into a less scrutable facial cue.  “...But I am contrite.  That’s what ‘sorry’ means, most of the time-- it means I’m sorry because I screwed up, I feel guilty and want to fix it.”

“Does ‘sorry’ still indicate sympathetic sorrow?  I read that it is used--”

“It depends.” Mackie sighed and rubbed her arms.  “What it means is, ‘I feel sorrow because you are unhappy.’  But if the other person is unhappy because we ruined something, then it also means we feel guilty, contrite, because it’s impossible to feel empathy for someone without feeling responsibility for our part in it.”  She raised her gaze, parting her arms slightly, and spoke somewhat hesitantly.  “We feel guilty because.. we never really wanted to cause harm.”

“All Earth’s history aside.”

Mackie flinched.

Luvius didn’t, in posture or into the translation device.  “Mackie, I have to try and explain to the crew what ‘criminal’ is.  What ‘axe murderer’ is.  But I can’t.  I can’t understand why any of you would want to harm each other, and yet, you do.  So, explain to me.  Explain to me, so I can explain to them, and we can all proceed with the inevitable exclusion of your entire species from the Unified Gathering as the scary story of you gets out.”

Mackie sat down on the floor.

“Uh... what are you doing?” This was a complete breach of protocol.

Mackie looked up at her, slouching, glaring, with her legs splayed, bent, and crossed over each other at the ankles.  It looked bizarre.  “Sitting.  If the entire human race is about to be kicked out of the fun club, and it’s all my fault, then I don’t care anymore.  No one in Interplanetary Diplomatic Services is going to care, either-- and if they do, I still don’t care, because my life is already over after this.

“You want to know about crime and murder?  Listen up:

“You ythrexians are scared of predators, poisons, and accidents.  All the other species, scared of predators, poisons, and accidents.  Well, good.  You should be.  Those things suck.  But you know what sucks worse?  You know what we’re scared of?  Ourselves.  The darkness of a human heart.  You tell all these scary stories about disasters and monsters and the great unknown in the dark?  That’s all they are, to you.  Scary things that you may or may not know, but definitely can’t control, and they want to hurt you.  That’s us.  All those same disasters and monsters and accidents happen to humans, too, but we’re not scared of them.  You’ve seen us-- skydiving.  Mining underground.  Riding rockets to space because we don’t have anything better yet.  Overdosing on alcohol and everything else for fun.  We’ve been accused of letting species success go to our heads and cloud our survival instincts.

“No.”  The human’s voice started modulating into frequencies that reminded Luvius of ancient danger songs.  “Those are things we can see.  Face.  Learn to control.  We can fight the monsters, we can defy the physics, we can deny our biology.  When it comes to scary stories, those are the tame ones.  We tell those-- we enjoy those-- because we’re not afraid.”  Did Mackie know that her voice was beginning to cause Luvius distress?

“Our scariest stories are about ourselves.  We’ve seen each other go mad...”  She had to know.  These were frequencies that humans did not regularly converse in, patterns they simply didn’t use.  Mackie had to know that the effect was blood-chilling, whyever she was doing it; but Luvius was riveted by her words. “...we’ve heard the call of the void.  We know, we’re terrified, that the real monster is us.  That we might not even know that we are.  That we might forget to care.  We’ve all had thoughts, intrusive urges, to do something not just wrong, but bad.  Murderous.  Suicidal.  Insane.  Destructive.  Harmful.  Whatever is the opposite of good.

“We don’t heed those thoughts.  Those urges are startling, but they have no power.  They are too against the grain, too radically different from our character.

“And yet.

“When the fire is low and the night is cold, when life has been rough and we feel alone, the urges get a little stronger.  And stronger.  And we wonder if we’ll cross the line this time.

“Or if we already have.”

Luvius’ pinfeathers and claws were all completely extended in fear.  Somehow, with just a few dozens statements and some voice modulation, she’d been reduced to the existential panic of a disobedient child at bedtime.  To her increased terror, Mackie stood up and leered like a predator, smiling in a way that seemed, suddenly, exactly like the bared predator grin that humans regularly insisted it wasn’t.

“Have fun sleeping tonight, little ythrexian...”

And the human strode out, head tilted back, loosening an instinctively terrifying laugh... one of the many mannerisms their own government had forbidden them to do in space.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities

[katdvs]

Lucas Friar moved back to Texas at 17, now he’s running for Mayor of Rosewood Springs so best friend Zay and little sister Gigi decide he needs a little help from a political consultant. Riley Matthews found her calling, she found a fiancé, but she never expected to find herself here, of all places.

Cross-posted to FF.net | Soundtrack | Past Chapters

Author Note: Happy Labor Day! Thank you again to anyone still reading this, you guys rock. You can always message me, yell at me or whatever, I’m usually around.

-in this little town-

“Well, is it too soon to tell if they’re boys or girls?” Riley watched as Rachel moved the wand over her abdomen, keeping her eyes on the screen.

“It’s too soon Riley, you guys have a few more weeks. Why are you in such a rush to know if they’re boys or girls?”

“Lucas is so sure we’re having boys, but I have this nagging feeling it’s girls.” Riley sighed as she watched the screen, hearing the heartbeats of the babies. “I feel like I need him to have as much time to mentally prepare for girls.”

“My nephew will be fine, you will be fine. How are you feeling?”

“Sick, but other than a few hours here or there throwing up in the evening, I’m okay. I’m thankful to be off bedrest.”

“I bet, just don’t overdo it, or I will send you back to bed before you can even think of protesting.” Rachel grabbed a paper towel, wiping the gel from Riley’s abdomen. “But everything looks good, they sound good. Just make sure you eat enough and stay hydrated, rest.”

“I can do that.” Riley pulled her shirt back down, “I mean it’s a little easier now that my parents are back in New York, Grady has been a wonderful help at the resort, and Bonnie is thankfully distracted with Gigi.”

“She can be a bit much,” Rachel rolled her stool over to Riley’s side, “She always was, bless Grady for being able to live with her all this time. But you love Lucas, and eventually she’ll get over the whole elopement thing.”

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t take that back, it was perfect.”

“Good.” Rachel grabbed a few pieces of paper before handing them to Riley, “Remember to take care of yourself, rest, I know you’re in the last stretch of Lucas’ campaign, but these babies come first.”

“Of course,” Riley took a moment, “I looked up all those um, gender predictors online, I know they can’t be very accurate.”

Rachel looked up, “Well, it’s biology that decides.” She reminded her, “I will say that perhaps sometimes the old wives’ tales are right.”

Riley twisted the rings on her finger, “If this is right, then it’s girls.”

“We’ll find out in a few weeks if we’re lucky.”

“If we’re lucky?”

“Sometimes they’re in a position where we can’t tell. Riley no matter if they’re boys or girls, they’re healthy.”

“Thank God for that.” She sighed, twisting her rings some more, thankful she could still wear them for now, “So any other special instructions?”

“No,” Rachel glanced at the time, “Just go home, rest.”

“Yes Doctor, I will.” Riley gathered her things.

“Oh, and don’t forget to confirm your next appointment at the desk.” Rachel called to her as she left, even though she knew she didn’t have to remind Riley.

Gigi studied her fresh haircut in the mirror, before looking down at the burgundy dress she was wearing, only one knot kept the whole thing from falling off. The last few weeks had been difficult, but she was starting to feel like herself again. Next to her feet was her overnight bag, she and Deacon would be going away for the weekend. She’d had to get her Doctor to tell her Mother it was encouraged.

She appreciated everything her Mother had done for her, but she needed a break. The election was a couple of weeks away so this would be the last chance they would have to spend any real time together alone.

It had taken three hours for Riley to convince Bonnie that it was perfectly okay for Deacon to spend some of his evenings at the house, in Gigi’s bed with her. She had only relented when Riley reminded Bonnie that Gigi could drive over to Deacon’s and sleep there instead, and that Gigi was an adult.

The front door opened, with Riley’s energy filling the foyer. “Oh Gigi, I’m so glad I caught you.”

“Yeah, Deacon should be here in a few minutes though.” She released a nervous breath, “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful.” Riley gave her sister-in-law a smile. “You have all your prescriptions and stuff?”

“Yes” Gigi bit her lip as she looked down at the bag, “I um might have over packed, I don’t want to assume that Deacon is ready for something, or that I even am.”

Riley tried to process what Gigi was saying, “Oh, you mean, well good idea. This is a major outing, you’re still recovering, I know it’s been a month, you’re desperate to get out of this house, walk the trails, see the fall colors, but you need to take care of yourself. If you’re tired, rest. And if Deacon is ready for something and you realize you’re not, tell him. He loves you, he won’t push you into something you’re not ready for.”

“I know, I know.” Gigi took a few steps around the foyer, “I’m scared though, what if Deacon doesn’t want me anymore? What if he felt like he couldn’t tell me because of everything that happened?”

Riley clapped her hands together as she studied the nervous young woman, “I think if Deacon didn’t want you, you two wouldn’t be going away together. I think he was probably hurt when he found out about you and Zay, and whatever that really was. Stop worrying, go spend a few days at Lost Maples with your fiancé, enjoy the nice hotel room he booked—I saw the pictures, it’s beautiful. Don’t worry about the past, this is your chance to move forward, accept it.”

“Thank you.” Gigi smiled, feeling a little bit better, “How is Zay, I haven’t seen him, at all.”

“Busy at the bar, it’s a little weird he moved out, but it’s probably for the best, for everyone.” Riley sat on the third step on the staircase, “I don’t know what the deal with him and Gloria May is, but I think he’s doing the right thing, staying away.”

“Deacon kind of told him to.”

“And he is.” Riley ran her hands over her jeans, “If you have any lingering doubts, if there is even the smallest voice in your head saying you want to be with Zay, don’t go away for the weekend with Deacon.”

“You know what, I really don’t have that voice in my head. I want to be with Deacon, I guess I’m just scared he doesn’t want me.”

Riley pushed herself up from the step, “Gigi, he is crazy about you. I promise, you know it in your heart, just, you’ll see it, you’ll catch him looking at you in a way that no other man ever has, and your heart with skip a beat, and you will see that he loves you.”

“I guess I’m just worried that I messed everything up, and that this is just fleeting and he’ll be gone.”

“If you don’t believe in your relationship it won’t survive.” Riley warned her as she heard a car outside, “Look, he’s here.”

Gigi looked out the window, watching Deacon get out of his truck, he wore dark jeans and his college sweatshirt. Had she over dressed, should she run upstairs and change into jeans herself?

“Breathe Gigi.” Riley could see the panic sweeping over her sister-in-law before she opened the door, “She’s ready, I think.”

“Thanks Riley.” Deacon stepped into the house, his eyes going straight for Gigi, his smile growing as he took her in, “You look amazing.”

She blushed, feeling the intensity of his gaze, “Thank you, could you get my bag?”

“Of course, but first,” he closed the space between them, cupping her face in his hands he studied her eyes for half a moment before kissing her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips when he pulled back, ending the moment. “We should get going, we don’t want to be late, but I’m not overdressed, am I?”

“You’re perfect Gigi.” Deacon picked her travel bag up in one hand, taking hers in the other.

Riley leaned against the banister, watching the young pair leave before she pulled her phone out of her purse, “Lucas” she smiled when he answered, “Let’s have dinner at the Wild Z tonight. The babies are craving those seasoned fries.”

“I am so glad the two of you are here.” Eddie slipped into the booth next to Lucas, “I have amazing news.”

Riley took a long sip of her water as she looked over at the attorney, “What is it?”

“Dixie took an agreement, life in prison, no parole, and psychiatric help.” He explained before letting his eyes look around.

“Gloria May isn’t here.” Lucas informed him as he tried to snag a fry from the basket only to have his wife pull it too herself, allowing him to pout.

“Did the judge approve the deal?” Riley hugged the basket of fries close to her as she narrowed her eyes at her husband.

“Yes, a judge has. I wouldn’t have brought this up if it wasn’t a done deal. She won’t be getting out, this was really her only option; a trial and jury would be far worse to deal with, and a harsher sentence would be handed down.” Eddie explained, “I’m just glad that none of you will now have to deal with a trial or fear she’ll ever be out of prison.”

“Thank you” Riley put the basket down on the table, “For everything.”

“I didn’t do that much, honestly.” He explained “Mostly just back up if needed.”

“I’ll be back, I’m going to go see if I can sweet talk Zay into a double order.” Riley slipped out of the booth, making her way across the dance floor which mostly just had a few people milling about, chatting, the music was still low. She’d seen Zay slip into the back a few minutes before. She stood outside his office door, deciding not to knock before she opened the door finding him at the desk, staring at his computer screen.

“Gigi went away with Deacon tonight.” Riley explained as he looked up to her as she closed the door. “I told her, that if she had any linger desire to be with you not to go. She went, she wants to be with Deacon.”

He looked at his old friend, wondering why she was tell him this. “I’ve known for a month that she wants him, not me.”

“And that made you want her more, didn’t it?” Riley crossed the room, standing in front of the desk, “Zay, Gigi threw herself at you before she was with Deacon, and you pushed her away. You didn’t really want her until Deacon had her, didn’t you?”

Zay bit the insides of his cheeks, “It’s not like that Riley.”

“Then explain it to me, because right now it looks like you’re doing the same thing to Gloria May.”

He shook his head, pushing the chair back and rising to his feet, “You don’t know what’s going on between us.”

“I know what I see.” She tried to understand him, but his words, his actions, were all disjointed in a way. “I see that you enjoy whatever understanding you and Gloria May seem to have, but when Eddie started to show interest, and she showed interest in him you got jealous.”

Zay came around the desk, “So you’re saying what Riley, I only want someone when I can’t fully have them?”

She frowned as she looked him over, “I think you’re afraid, I think you’ve set yourself up to never settle down, never fall in love.”

He laughed, “That’s ridiculous Riley.”

“Is it? If you settle down, if you fall in love, especially here in Texas, you lose the dream once and for all don’t you?”

His body stiffened, a jolt of cold coursed through his body.

“If you open yourself up once and for all, you can’t pretend that one day you can get on a plane and go back to New York and become a dancer.”

Zay shook his head, “I gave that dream up a long time ago.” He reminded her as he went back to his desk chair, “When I got hurt, I knew it was over. I would never star in a Broadway show, or be a Pro on Dancing with the Star. That’s why I came back here.”

“That’s why you ran away.”

“Riley, why are we doing this now?” He ran his hand over his hair, “I made a choice, I came back to Texas to finish school. To focus on my business degree, and look I have a thriving business, your husband is my partner.”

“Are you happy?”

He was quiet.

“What makes you happy?”

He grew into a deeper silence as he thought about her question.

“What do you even want in life Zay, when was the last time you asked yourself that?”

He finally looked up at the brunette before him, she was glowing with her pregnancy, but not as bright as she had been. He could see the worry, the concern in her dark eyes that matched his. Before him stood a friend, who had run and hidden from what she wanted, she’d always known deep down what she wanted, but couldn’t grab it. “It’s been a while” he finally confessed, “I don’t think I’ve stopped and thought about that for a very long time.”

“I think you need to stop and ask yourself that before you hurt someone else, break someone else’s heart, accidentally give someone hope for something, and end up totally alone. Watching everyone living life without you.”

“I hate when you do this.” He sighed, “I’ll start to figure it out, I promise.”

“Good,” Riley bit her lip, “Could you also maybe get me a double order of seasoned fries, Lucas keeps trying to steal them from me.”

Zay shook his head as he looked at her, “If anyone else came in here and made me start thinking about the things you did just now, and then asked for seasoned fries, I would think they’re insane. But not you Cotton Candy Face, not you.”

“Aww you haven’t called me that in forever.”

He rose again and moved to hug her, “I’ll see if I can figure out what I want, you’re right, not knowing will just lead me to hurting people, and myself.”

“Good, now about those fries.”

Zay shook his head, “Go, I’ll get you some.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they left the office.

The sun was starting to set in the distance as Deacon pulled up to the main building to check in, insisting that Gigi stay in the truck. Her favorite Ed Sheeran song was playing on the radio, and a moment later Deacon came out with a paper map, and a key in his hand. He came to her window, “Everything is set up.”

She studied him curiously, “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.” His eyes soft as he soaked in the glow she radiated, the one she had no idea she carried.

“Deacon, what did you do?”

He smirked when he got in, lifting her hand to his lips, “Whatever do you think I could’ve done.”

“I don’t know, you just, you have that plotting look.” She noticed a twitch in his smile before he got back in the truck.

“The only thing I’m planning, is getting to spend time alone with you. Without doctors, or your mother, or any family members around. I want to stretch out on the porch swing with you and look up at the stars, I want to breath in the scent of your hair after a bubble bath,” He glanced over at her, “I want you to feel how much I love you.”

She let her fingers entwine with his, “I need you to feel how much I love you.” It was a confession she hadn’t realized she needed to make, to vocalize until she did.

He brought her hand to his lips, a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Let’s get to our cabin, we’ll have a nice dinner, and a nice quiet evening, just us.”

“That sounds perfect.” She breathed as he dropped her hand to start the truck, driving down to the cabin.

It was a small log cabin, only a few steps away from the lake. If it was summer it would be perfect to just walkout and go swimming, a fire pit was in front of the porch, stocked with wood and supplies. The porch wrapped around the entire cabin, it had a swing seat with a perfect view of the night sky, a small grilling area towards the back. “Deacon, this is too much.”

He wrapped his arms from behind her as they stood at the steps to go up, “No it’s not, what did you think we were going to get a room at the motel 6?”

“Well yeah” she shrugged relaxing against his body, “I wasn’t expecting a perfectly romantic looking cabin.”

“I’m not sure if I should be hurt that you expected me to half-ass this, or happy that I surprised you.” His lips so close to his ear, a tease of what his lips could do, should do before he pulled away.

Gigi felt the breeze on her back where Deacon had just been, she was frozen in place for a moment, wishing for his touch to return.

He put the bags down on the porch turning to see that she hadn’t moved as he jogged down to her, without saying a word one arm was behind her back, the other behind her knees as he lifted her up and carried her not only up to the porch but into the cabin.

Roses and LED candles filled the room, a fire was already going in the fire place. A bucket of ice with a bottle chilling in it sat nearby, while trays of appetizers were arranged on the coffee table. A king-sized bed on the other side of the room, rose petals carefully tossed over it. The jacuzzi tub, sunk into the floor not far from the bed, steaming and bubbling.

Gigi didn’t know where to look, where to start as she spun around to look at her fiancé, there it was, his eyes, watching her take this all in. Her heart filled, knowing this was it, she was his before she threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply.

Deacon held her, feeling her body wrap around him, deepening the kiss. He tried to convince his own body to hold back, not scare her, not push her. He wanted her, he needed her, more than she would ever know, but Deacon was never going to push her to be with him. He pulled away, opening his eyes to see hers still closed with a blissful smile turning on her lips.

He cleared his throat as he went to get their bags, and put them on the floor by the bed. “The couch folds out into a bed, I can sleep there tonight if you want the bed to yourself.”

Gigi watched him close the door, shaking her head, “Deacon,” she reached for the thin strap that kept her entire dress from falling off, slowly undoing the knot, feeling her heart pounding in her chest as she now found herself standing in front of her fiancé, wearing nothing but knee-high boots, with her matching black lace bra and panties and her dress pooled on the floor. “I understand if you’re not ready to be with me again. I understand if you’re still hurt. I understand if you’re not sure you can fully give your heart to me. But I’m yours, and I need you Deacon, I want you. I need to feel your mouth on me, I need to touch you.”

Deacon was stunned as he watched her, it was the most sensual thing he’d ever seen, the way she’d basically unwrapped herself for him. He took a tentative step towards her, “Gigi, I’m ready to be with you, I want to be with you. I don’t want to push you into this. I wanted this to be a beautiful romantic weekend, I wanted you to see that I will do whatever I can to make you smile for the rest of our lives.”

Gigi draped her arms over his shoulders, it was only then he realized he’d closed the space between them, “Be with me Deacon, make love to me on that giant bed covered in rose petals.” She leaned in, softly kissing his neck, “Touch me the way you plan to every night that we’re married.”

Deacon closed his eyes, “And then what?”

Gigi smiled as she kissed his neck, “Open the sparkling cider, take a bubble bath with me, make love with me in front of the fire, and then take me to the bed again.”

“Are you sure you’re up to this, you’re still recovering.”

She let her hands slide under his sweatshirt, under the t-shirt he wore, against his bare skin, “Go slow, we’ll rest if I need to. I know you would never hurt me Deacon, I know you love me, I love you, please, let us be together.”

He stepped away, only to remove his clothes, as she watched. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near as seductive as she’d been, but now he stood before her in just his boxer-briefs, feeling the twitching, aching, throb of his need for her as he reached for her waist, pulling his future bride to him, “If anything hurts, or your uncomfortable we will stop.”

Gigi bit her bottom lip, “I promise, if that happens. It’s not like you’re tying me up.”

“Well not yet.” He captured her mouth in a passionate kiss before lifting her up, “Oh and we’re keeping your boots on for this round.”

Gigi giggled as he picked her up, and carried her over to the bed where he gently laid her down before letting his hands move over her body. His fingertips gently gliding over the scars she had acquired from the accident.

Deacon moved over her, his lips gliding over her stomach as his hands moved behind her, unhooking the bra, freeing her from the lace trap. His hands moved to caress her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples as they hardened before he suckled one and then the other.

She arched her body, feeling freer then she could remember in the last few weeks as his hand slid between her thighs, rubbing over the lace. A growl in his throat as he felt the dampness thicken.

She tried to keep her eyes open as she took in his mostly naked body over her again. Sure they’d shared a bad a few nights since she returned home, but he was always covered up. Not like right now, not as he was above her bringing her back to life in a way she had feared she would never feel again.

Deacon kissed her, held her close as he moved so he was under her. When he looked at her, the heavy want in her eyes confirmed everything he’d hoped for was true. Her fingers moved over his body, her lips tasted him as her hand finally touched him with the cotton of his boxer-briefs between them.

Gigi smiled when she felt him react to her touch, teasing him just a little bit before she wrapped her fingers around the elastic and freed him. For a moment she wasn’t sure what to do next, so she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him.

Deacon watched her, anticipating her next move before she released him, stepping away from the bed. His eyes were glued to her as she turned away from him, bending over, accentuating her backside before she pulled her panties down.

Gigi gasped when she felt his hands on her ass, his mouth moving over her spine as he pulled her body to him. His hand quickly found her wet hot folds, teasing her, moaning against her body.

Her eyes were closed as she lowered herself onto him. Feeling him inside of her, stretching her, conforming her body to fit him and only him. “Claim me” she whined as he pulled out of her almost completely before he thrust into her, deeper than he’d been.

“Mine” he growled causing her body to ripple with pleasure. “You are mine” he told her again with the next thrust.

She whimpered as he got deeper each time, “Yes” she told him before she felt him pull out all the way, before he laid her on the bed, her legs in the air.

Deacon’s eyes were dark, lustful as he positioned himself, “Say it Gigi, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, I belong to you Deacon,” she gasped, she could feel him ready to enter her, “And you belong to me.”

It was quick, fast as he rocked into her, feeling her body hungry to have him inside of her, willing to open for him as they moved together. He could feel she was close, any chance he had of holding back was lost when he felt her body dance with pleasure, and he spilled in a way that made him feel as though he never had before.

Gigi just stared at him as he lay on top of her, not making any move to leave her. She knew she needed to rest before they did more, but she also felt the happiest, the most centered she had in a long time.

Deacon smiled as his hands ran down her legs, he kissed her neck as he started to unzip her boots, finally releasing himself from her to remove them, “Rest my love.”

She purred when he curled up next to her, allowing her to rest her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat lulling her to sleep as his hypnotic touch continued to relax her. “Let’s get married on New Year’s Eve just like we planned originally.”

He smiled, “Think we can get a wedding together that quickly?”

“I know we can, plus” she looked into his eyes, clearing from the haze of lust and need, reflecting his love now, “it will be a great distraction for my Mother.”

“You are a naughty girl.” He teased her.

“I’m your naughty girl.” She kissed him, “And I need a bath.”

He smirked, “That we can do.” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before he went to set the bath up, when he returned she had left the bed, and was coming over to him with the bottle of cider and the glasses.

“Thank you” she looked directly in his eyes.

“For what?”

“Everything, the past, our present, and our future.”

Lucas watched his wife as did her nighttime ritual, brushing her hair, pulling it into a braid, setting up a pile of towels near the toilet. “What did you say to Zay when you went to get another order of fries?”

Riley slipped into the closet and came out with a pair of fuzzy socks in her hand, she leaned against the counter and slipped them on. “Oh, I told him Gigi went away with Deacon, that she chose Deacon, and that Zay needed to figure out what he wants in life before he hurts Gloria May, or she hurts him.”

Lucas cringed and stretched at the same time, “Ugh, why do you keep implying that something happened between Zay and Gigi.”

Riley came over to him, her hand on his cheek, “Because my love, it did.”

He grew green for a moment, “I would rather not think of my sister as doing anything like what we do.”

“Okay,” Riley gave him a gentle kiss on his lips before she grabbed her phone from the charger, “Um, I found this thing online, it says it can predict the gender of a baby, based on how old the mother is, and what month she conceives.”

Lucas reached down, placing his hand on her abdomen, “Our little boys are going to have the best mom.”

“Little girls.” She sighed, “I mean if the chart is correct.”

“What did Rachel say today?”

“A few more weeks before it’s possible to tell on the sonogram, and that’s if they want us to know.” She rested her body against her husband enjoying the few more minutes of peace. She knew that as soon as she laid down to go to bed, her stomach would revolt, the way it had every night for the past three weeks.

Lucas kissed the top of her forehead, “I’ll go get some ginger ale and saltines.”

“Thank you.” She waited for him to leave before she pulled the t-shirt she wore up and looked down at her abdomen, swelling with her and Lucas’ twins. “Okay girls, when I go in for that sonogram in a few weeks, you gotta make it clear you are girls. Daddy is going to need all the time he can have to get used to the idea. I don’t know if he’ll steal boy’s shoes, or be polishing a shot gun, but he is going to protect you, he’ll make sure that whoever steals your hearts are worthy of them. I’m going to go lay down, so of course you’ll decide it’s time to make Mommy sick soon. You two are so lucky I already love you so much.”

She adjusted her yoga pants and t-shirt before going into the bedroom, it had been almost like clockwork the last few weeks. She would get ready for bed, settle in with a book and before she was two pages in to whatever she was attempting to read she would feel the sickness in her stomach, and spend a good fifteen to thirty minutes sick before settling down enough that she could rest, sipping ginger ale every so often, before she would fall asleep, only to wake up not long later and start the cycle over again.

Lucas came in with the bottle of ginger ale, sleeve of crackers, just as she rushed back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. “Riley, I have your stuff when you’re ready.” He called out, knowing she would be there for a while.

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t do anything for her right now and that she hated having him in there with her, he turned the television on, scrolling through the movie selection and stopping only when he knew he found one of her favorites. He set it up to play, until then he paced around the room feeling useless.

All he could do for now was make sure she had anything she could need, that the bed would be comfortable and warm. He heard the flush of the toilet, the rush of the water from the sink as she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

Riley looked and felt miserable when she came to bed, “No more seasoned fries.” She whined before accepting the bottle of ginger ale and took a small sip.

“Whatever you say sweetheart.” He watched her crawl into the bed, quickly getting under the covers as though she wanted to enjoy what few minute’s she had before feeling miserable again.

“Don’t” She warned as she made herself comfortable in the bed before snuggling up to him as he let the movie he picked out play. “I love this one, thank you.”

Lucas kissed the top of her head, “Just get as much rest as you can.”

Riley nodded before she took another sip of the ginger ale, “At least we don’t have to worry about Dixie anymore.”

He gave her a smile, “That’s right, she’ll never bother us again, and we’ll have two healthy sons’.”

“Lucas, have you even stopped for a minute to think they could be girls?”

“And you my wife, have you stopped to think for a minute they could be boys?”

She pouted, “All the old wives’ tales are pointing towards girls.”

“Boys, girls, it doesn’t matter, what matters is they’re healthy and we’ll love them.”

“But you would feel better if we had boys, because girls you would well make my father look sane.”

“Who me? Your father is a nut.”

“And you’ll be worse than he is.” She reminded him.

Lucas scoffed, “You’ll be worse with boys, I’ve seen the way your Mom was with Auggie.”

Riley let her fingers find the spot on his side that always got him before she started to tickle him, “Take that back.”

He laughed, “Never.” He danced under her touch before pulling her in for kiss.

Riley sighed, enjoying it for a moment, before pulling away and rushing into the bathroom again.

Lucas sat up, staring at the door, wishing there was something he could do for her.

The night was over, the Friday night crowd had gone home, to their own homes Zay would never know. His staff had cleared out, and he sat alone with a whiskey in front of him, the chairs up, the floor cleared, and music still coming over the speakers, it was much lower now, but still it filled the room, wrapped the space around Zay.

Riley was right, he didn’t know what he wanted. He downed his drink, pushing himself up from the seat as he walked around the dance floor.

The music filling him as for the first time in far too long he let it really in. He stood still just listening, gathering the feel, sure it was a Taylor Swift song, not the kind of thing he would ever admit to dancing to—even though he had many times alone in his room before his injury.

He closed his eyes and began to move. Nothing else mattered in the world, he was in the moment, in the movement. He was lost in the trance of his passion, and these few short minutes, he could feel himself, starting to return.

The sound of clapping cut through the air, Zay stopped, his eyes opening to see Gloria May standing in the doorway, a smile on her lips, “Good to see you dancing.” She crossed to cut the sound system.

“Thanks, I don’t know, I just felt it.” He ran his hand over his hair, “What are you doing here so late?”

“I just got back into town.” She looked down at her hands, “I could either go back to my house, that is empty, and lonely, a reminder of my failed marriage, or I could come here, and see you, and forget.”

“What about Eddie, that lawyer guy?”

She stood in front of Zay, “I don’t know what that is, I’m scared of what it could be. With you, I know what we are, I understand where we stand.”

“What are we?”

“Friends” she tilted her head to the side, “mutually beneficial. I don’t expect you to fall in love with me Zay, I don’t know if I even want you to. And I know that you don’t want me to fall in love with you. We’re lost, alone, and the world outside is filled with the unknown.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either.” Gloria May ran her hand over his t-shirt clad chest, “I think what we’re doing is better for us then if we’re alone.”

“I’m not going to marry you.”

“I don’t want you to.” She felt his hands rest on her hips, “If this isn’t working we stop doing it, you can go on dates with other woman—who are single, I can date other men.”

Zay breathed her in, “So we’re mutually beneficial to each other.”

“I think neither of us really know what we want out of life, we had dreams and now we’re treading water, trying to figure it out, so why not escape in each other?”

He didn’t think, he only felt her lips on his as he led them to the stairs of his apartment. He wasn’t going to figure out the rest of his life in one night, it would be a long road of discovery, so why not have fun along the way with someone also on the same road?

#Thunder Chasing The Wind #Riley Matthews #Lucas Friar #Rucas #Rucas Fanfic #Girl Meets World #GMW Fanfic #Zay Babineaux #Gigi Friar #THE TRIANGLE IS OVER!

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

hunger - chapter 11

Hunger master post. 

 Stiles is surprised at how easily he fits in with Scott and Melissa. He doesn’t have that same feeling he did at the foster homes they put him in. Like he had to ask to use the bathroom, and was afraid to help himself to food out of the refrigerator, and he always felt like he was a guest in someone else’s house, always careful of what he said and did, and itching under his skin because he couldn’t just be him. He doesn’t get any of that here. The McCalls’ house is comfortable. It feels like it could be a home. He’s not treated like a guest here. He’s treated like he fits.

He misses his dad.

He misses the dog.

He cries himself to sleep more than once, but it’s okay. It’s grief. It’s not helplessness. His tears are cathartic, not desperate.

He has a pile of clothes that Scott has given him. It’s mostly stuff that Scott is growing out of. Stiles is skinny enough thanks to living on the streets that he fits them. He’s a little taller than Scott so the jeans aren’t quite the right length, but Stiles doesn’t care. Who’s he got to impress anyway?

He does a few chores around the house while Melissa is working and Scott is at school. He wonders how long it will be until it feels like the walls are closing in on him. A while yet, probably. The house is warm and safe. During the day he researches his dad’s case, and wonders if it will raise any red flags anywhere if he tries to order a copy of the transcripts online. Then he figures they’re not really what he needs anyway. He needs the notes from the initial investigation, not the prosecutor’s polished presentation. For that, he needs Rafa McCall. And for Rafa McCall to even think of giving them to him, he needs evidence.

He takes one of Scott’s unused school notebooks and makes a list of what he already knows. Which isn’t much apart from Kate Argent’s name, her brother’s address, G. Argent’s address—are they even related?—and how she shot his dog.

He thinks back to that, trying to divorce himself from the impending panic.

“Hello again, Derek. You don’t look so good.”

Except Stiles’s name isn’t Derek, and as far as he remembers he’s never met Kate Argent before in his life.

Derek.

The name snags in the threads of his memory like a hook, but Stiles can’t quite tug the memory free. He pushes it aside for now.

Stiles makes himself a cup of coffee—the caffeine helps settle the more annoying symptoms of his ADD—and takes it into the living room. He sits down on the couch and reaches for his notebook.

Scott’s laptop is open. Stiles was searching the Herald earlier. The elusive mountain lion still hasn’t been caught.

Stiles taps his pen against his chin, and thinks of Kate Argent again, and the exchange she had with Allison’s dad outside his house a few nights ago.

“I told Dad I’d check and see if you’d had any luck bringing down the alpha. Clearly you haven’t.”

Alpha. What is the alpha? First letter of the Greek alphabet. Term co-opted by asshole meninist PUAs. An episode from season six of The X-Files. And, in hunting terms, the foremost animal in a pack, right? Except that mountain lions aren’t pack animals. So what exactly is Chris Argent hunting?

Stiles sips his coffee.

What the hell is going on out there in the Preserve? Chris Argent is hunting something, and Scott got bitten by something, and all of it, every fucking thing, comes right back to those blackened ruins in the clearing, doesn’t it? Everything comes back to the Hale fire.

Maybe Stiles has been coming at this the wrong way.

Maybe he doesn’t need to prove Kate Argent framed his dad.

Maybe he needs to prove she had something to do with the Hale fire.

***

  Stiles likes helping Scott with his homework. He’s missed school. Not the other students or the teachers or whatever, but he’s missing learning. Stiles has always been wired a little differently than a lot of kids. Scott is basically failing Biology, and even though it’s been months since Stiles cracked open a textbook he falls easily back into the rhythm of studying.

“All I know is the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell!” Scott says. “And I learned that from a meme!”

He looks so miserable that Stiles can’t help laughing at him. “It’s okay, Scotty. We’ll make sure you pass!”

“Thanks, dude. I need all the help I can get.”

Stiles chews his bottom lip for a moment. “Are you still hanging with Allison?”

“Yeah.” Scott flushes. “It really sucks that I can’t tell her about you, you know? She said that she keeps driving around town hoping she’ll spot you somewhere.”

Stiles’s breath catches. He tries to smile. “Hopefully not to hand me over to her aunt the cop, right?”

“No.” Scott holds his gaze. “Stiles, she says she hasn’t said anything to her aunt about even knowing you. I believe her.”

“Kate Argent set my dad up,” Stiles says. “Or at least helped whoever did.”

“What?” Scott’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“I don’t have any proof,” Stiles says. “But I heard her on the phone to my dad, warning him to drop the investigation into the Hale fire. So I’m guessing that she had something to do with the fire as well.”

“But that was an accident…” Scott trails off. “Wasn’t it?”

“My dad didn’t think so.” Stiles twists his hands together. The knot of anxiety in his gut is growing larger.

“Holy shit.” Scott’s gaze grows distant. “Cora Hale was the year above me in elementary school.”

“I didn’t know them,” Stiles says. “I went to Stuart, not Beacon Hills.”

“Ooh,” Scott teases. “A private school kid! Very swanky!”

“My mom taught there.” He looks down at the open Biology textbook. “We paid reduced fees. It was a Montessori school, which turned out to be a good fit for a kid with ADD plus zero social skills.” 

When he looks up again, Scott shows him an encouraging smile.

“Anyway.” Stiles closes the textbook. “I never met the Hales.”

“Cora was kind of scary,” Scott says. “I heard they never found her body.”

Just another thing that never added up about the Hale fire. Why would the Hales hide in the basement after a gas line explosion? And the fire investigator had said that the fire burned at such a high temperature that there was simply nothing to find of some of the bodies. Cora had never been found. Neither had one of the adults. And another one of the kids too. The teenage boy. The brother.

Derek.

Derek.

Stiles scrambles for Scott’s laptop.

Derek Hale. Sixteen years old.

Holy shit.

Stiles finds a picture online of a guy in a Beacon Hills High basketball uniform. A guy who looks absolutely nothing like Stiles.

“Hello again, Derek. You don’t look so good.”

Kate Argent must be crazy, or that’s her guilty conscience speaking.

He wonders, when she has people over, if she can hear a telltale heart beating from under the floorboards.

If she does, it serves her right.

 ***

 They order pizza because it helps with homework. That’s a scientific fact. They eat the pizza in front of the TV, which doesn’t help at all with homework.

“So you think Allison’s aunt had something to do with the Hales?” Scott asks.

“Yeah.” Stiles picks off a piece of pepperoni and eats it. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“We should really tell my mom,” Scott says. “And my dad.”

“Not without proof! If we tell your dad, then he’s obligated to do something about me being a missing person. And, you know, wanted by the police.”

Scott sumps back against the couch. “I can’t believe she shot your dog.”

Stiles feels the customary low burn of anger in his gut flare for a moment.

“Sucks, dude.”

Yeah. It really, really does. 

 ***

 They talk for a while about whether or not to tell Allison what’s going on. If her aunt has links to the Hale fire, than surely Allison is in the best place to try and discover some proof of that? Scott is sure that she can be trusted. Stiles isn’t willing to risk his freedom on that. Scott agrees that it’s Stiles’s call.

Stiles goes to bed just before midnight. He curls up under his comforter and thinks of all the times he sat in the alley with the dog.

Entropy.

Decay.

He has to act.

At the same time, he’s afraid. Everything is already so precarious that he’s terrified to make any move at all.

He tosses and turns for a while. He maybe dozes.

The basement has windows set high in the walls, at ground-level outside. The moon is a half-moon tonight, but bright enough that faint light filters through the windows. It fills the basement with a gentle glow.

Melissa says that if Stiles is allowed to stay, he can have the room next to Scott’s. But for now he shares the basement with the washing machine and dryer, and a shelf full of old board games, Christmas decorations, and assorted junk. He doesn’t mind that everything smells like fabric softener.

Stiles doesn’t think he’s asleep when the basement door opens, but he seems to jerk awake all the same.

“Stiles?” Scott whispers in the darkness. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whispers back.

Scott’s footsteps creak down the steps.

Stiles sits up. Scott stands in front of the sofa bed. He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot, and even in the dim light he looks pale and wide-eyed.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asks.

“Can you hear that?” Scott shakes his head like a dog after a bath under the hose.

Stiles listens in the silence for a moment. “Hear what?”

Scott wrinkles his nose, and tilts his head. “Howling?”

Stiles listens again. “Dude, I can’t hear anything.”

“It woke me up.” Scott’s breath is coming in short panicked gasps.

Stiles remembers Melissa checking with him before she went to work that he knew where his inhaler was. “Do you need your inhaler?”

“N-no.” The question seems to distract him from his rising anxiety. He sucks in a deep, uninhibited breath. “No, I think I’m okay.” Then his forehead wrinkles. “How am I okay?”

“Lets…let’s go up stairs and get your inhaler, okay?”

Scott nods. “I think there’s something wrong with me. Really wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Stiles tells him.

Scott’s huffs out a laugh that sounds as though it’s bordering hysteria. “I can hear you lying!”

Stiles puts his hand over his fast-thumping heart. “That sounds really impossible, Scott.”

“I know.” Scott drags his fingers through his hair. “I know it does.” He freezes suddenly, and turns to stare up at one of the windows.

Stiles follows his gaze.

A shadow passes in front of the window.

“Did you—” he whispers.

Did you see that?

But the words don’t come.

Because when Stiles turns his head to look at Scott again, Scott’s eyes are glowing gold.

Sleep paralysis.

Imagination.

Frontotemporal dementia.

A nightmare.

Except Stiles knows in the pit of his stomach that whatever is happening now is a hundred times more terrifying than any nightmare, because he knows it’s real.

From outside, a howl tears through the night. It’s loud enough and close enough that Stiles feels the echo of it reverberating through his bones. The sound is big enough to swallow the world, and Stiles knows instinctively that he’s powerless in the face of this, whatever this is.

And then it’s gone again.

The shadow passes in front of the window.

Scott’s eyes are no longer glowing.

“It’s gone,” Scott whispers. “Holy shit. What was that?”

And Stiles stares back at him and thinks: What are you, Scotty?

#fan fic #teen wolf #hunger #sterek #discontentedwinter

[livinginnazbraska-blog]

Contrasting Lives

I am once again the Biggest Procrastinator in this whole entire universe. But its okay, its not 12 am yet so technically, its still early. There a billion things I think about each day and today is a good day to write this post regarding the difference between studying in a local university (Brunei) vs Overseas. Of course, my judgement wouldn’t actually be super fair cause I am making assumptions mainly based on what my friends/cousins/colleagues/other humans are telling me. Maybe you should leave me a message on what y’all think? 

Local and Overseas. FIRST OF ALL... Just a disclaimer, I am sick and tired of people saying that people who study overseas/get a scholarship are smarter than people who are studying in the local colleges and universities. Rezeki is different for each and every individuals and people who are studying overseas does not necessarily mean they have the iq level of Jimmy Neutron, and the people who are studying locally DOES NOT mean they aren’t smart. 

Based on my understanding from friends and family that are currently doing their diploma/degree/masters at local universities; they always have one answer when I ask them how’s their uni life. Our conversation usually goes like this: 

Me : Apatah life?

Student: Banyak assignment melambak macam gunung.

IT IS ALWAYS THE SAME ANSWER GUISE. ALWAYS. I don’t know if I have been asking them at the peak time or it is when assignments just vomit from the mouths of monsters. But its always this. Whenever I ask how are their teachers, most of the time they complain on how their modules are hard and how they don’t understand their lecturers and such. On top of that, the 4 year degree course offered at the local universities include modules that are not even related to their course! For example, a friend is taking Biology, but she has MIB and Islamic Studies and such as a module. Its not bad or anything, receiving education is good, but don’t you think it would be useful to cut all other optional modules so they can have a solid 3 years of pure sweat and blood learning actual course related stuff? (I actually have mixed feelings about this because learning MIB is of course important but legit in 1 semester 2/5 modules is only bio related? come on la) 

I could be very inaccurate in describing the life of people studying locally but I can actually relate more to studying in the overseas. Personally, for my course, I can say that I’m pretty chill. But, I think I’m pretty chill cause I have no other commitments such as family events, curfew, cheap restaurants to eat lunch and talk to friends for 2 hours, consistently broke etc etc. Just like the local uni students, we too, also don’t understand our lecturers. In my first year in the UK, I had this big annoyance and huge complication in understanding the english accent. (I thought its all simple but holy crap have you heard the Geordies and Liverpool people speak?) But as time go on, I survived. Another thing about studying in the UK in particular is the resources we have (Brunei don’t have these). For example, ReCAP recordings are saviour to the hungover students who can’t make it to class or to the student who would rather play with snapchat filter in class instead of listening to the lecturer (me). I managed to survive 2 years of uni without listening to any of my lectures but still passing the exams (a looooooot of tears, breakdowns and panic attacks involved). But yknow, we survived. I’m not saying we have it easier or anything. But my point is the resources in the UK helps in providing a better quality of education than when studying locally. We have access to all the journal articles that are written in super complex english and we have access to 24/7 library that literally uses the net to help tell the position of books we’re looking for. Its really surprising that some of my friends (cough waie) cant get access to some journal articles and he is studying engineering for gods sake! How does the students from the local unis produce dissertations/lit reviews/reports without citations from a legit source?? They must have super powers! 

But to tell you the truth, UK kids are pretty fucked up in the head. We go through so much stuff that we keep to ourselves. We need to learn how to carry ourselves in the Western world. Nightclubs are alcohol and drugs are accessible everywhere, temptations rising all the time. It could get hard but that’s the challenge we face on top of our studies. Overcoming our temptations, struggling financially and emotionally, missing family, missing friends, undergoing hysteric weight gain. Its all just a big pile of world that we learn by ourselves. In UK, we gotta think whether those new Ultraboost are worth it or do we wanna spend £8 on nasi lemak? We think about every detail of our decisions like Uber or wait in the cold for bus? So these kind of things help to open our minds. Working with international people also opens a new perception of human nature and the outside world. I think this is what people mean by how “Orang dari hengland tu pandai bepikir” cause the truth is, we’re not pandai bepikir fam, we’re just fucked up in the head. Most of us regret things we do (like me regretting eating chicken cottage at 2am) but life goes on and we learn from our mistakes. 

IN CONCLUSION, I cannot emphasise enough on how studying overseas DOES NOT make you smarter than the kids in the local uni. The difference is just how we are moulded. How minds are opened, our independence level and how we walk through separate fire. 

At the end of the day, we’re gonna work for the same thing anyway, for the country. In Shaa Allah.

FIN