Kimiyo's Place of Being

what is wrong with me?

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 01:13:03 GMT

Today I made a facebook account and I have no idea why. Because, for one thing, I know I'm probably never gonna use it. One time I made a MySpace account and after a while I was like,"I don't know what everyone sees in this," and pretty much abandoned it. In short, I like LJ the best because I can just post whatever without feeling like I have to post pictures about what I do day-to-day.

The stuff that doesn't get posted here gets doodled in my sketchbook, so if there are days/weeks worth of no posting it's because it ended up there. But anyway, before I got off topic, I just don't get the appeal of facebook/myspace/etc. I've already got a place I can vent about life so why get another one? I guess I'm just a picky bitch like that. :/ I really don't know.

I've now got the new LiveJournal Messenger.

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 19:36:01 GMT

I've now got the new LiveJournal Messenger. My Windows Live ID is seras_tenshi@livejournal.com. Sign up now and we can chat!

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 02:39:12 GMT

I've been poking around the different genre forums and it's just hit me that I really like writing contemperary/urban (?) fantasy. Now I don't think I could write up an entire world or anything like that, but I do love mythical beings, extraterrestrials, and other things. The idea of them walking around in everyday life and shaking up society fascinates me for some reason. :/ Why, I couldn't tell you.

I'm trying not to think about nov, because it's going to be a really busy month. I turn eighteen close to turkey day! :'D -cheers- iow, I have no idea what I'm going to write and it probably doesn't matter much I guess. Last year when I had planned my novel I only got up to 7,710 words.

Maybe I'll do better my second year, I dunno. All I know is that I'm awful at writing chapters; I'm more of a short story/drabble writer I think.

-

Okay, so I may be a litfic author. -has no idea what to think- I have no idea what I am.

Somewhere God is laughing. O.<

The Unexpected 2

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 05:44:51 GMT

More Paul/Bella drabbles. :p

Title: Taking care

Based: No set timeline.

Rating: T

Bella is shocked the first time someone tries to cop a feel as she’s walking by, hair whipping in the wind as she turns around to snap at whoever did it. It’s a burly man, leathery looking skin, beady little black eyes, and a barbwire tattoo on his arm; a mean looking man. He only laughs at her when she glares at him, tempted to kick him with the little bit of high heel she has, straight in the crotch.

Instead of acting on it she tries to be the better person by walking away, quickening her pace to put as much distance as humanly possible between her and him. At footsteps behind her, she practically starts jogging even though it’s a little difficult in the heels she’s wearing. When the footsteps get even closer she starts running, hoping to whatever God there is she doesn’t trip and break her neck trying to get away.

She screams when a hand clamps roughly around her arm, yanking her back with violent force. This time she doesn’t hesitate to knee him in the balls, hand balling up in a fist to punch him in the nose with a sick cracking noise. Suddenly she’s really glad she learned a little martial arts after quitting ballet, it really comes in handy more than twirling on her toes. Bella reaches down to un-snap the little thing keeping her heels on, shucking them quickly onto the pavement, feet carrying her at neck breaking speed to the little café’ on the corner.

Paul gives her a ‘what-the-hell-happened-to-you?’ look when she walks quickly over to the table he’s sitting at close to the counter. A sigh of relief escapes her at the sight of him sitting there drinking coffee, elbows propped up on the green surface like he owns the place.

“A guy was being an asshole,” says Bella shakily, smoothing down her hair while fighting not to start wheezing from running so fast, “He tried to grab me so I kneed him and punched him in the face.” Paul raises an eyebrow at her over the coffee cup, grey eyes blinking at her with mild amusement at her admission.

“I guess you don’t need me to save you after all.”

Bella smiles, cheeks red.

“Guess I don’t.”

Title: Fantasies

Based: No set timeline.

Rating: G

Bella can’t help but compare him to Edward and Jacob; they are the only people she’d ever felt anything for, so there’s no reason why she wouldn’t. They’re under a shade tree at La Push, both of them bare footed, shoulders touching while he tugs at one of her braids and she swats at him. He smiles differently then Edward, it doesn’t give her a breathless feeling or make her heart beat faster. No, nothing at all like that. Neither does he whisper sweet nothings or poetry in her ear, voice smooth and deep.

The thought of his gruff voice trying to recite Shakespeare makes her chuckle, and he asks her what’s so funny.

Paul isn’t really like Jacob either, he doesn’t shine so bright it makes her feel like the moon to his sun or a penny to a quarter. He never forces her to do anything she doesn’t want to do, although sometimes he irritates the hell out of her with his bluntness (“Do you ever have any tact?!” screams Bella, whacking him with a rolled up newspaper. He just sticks his tongue out at her in reply, not ashamed in the slightest.) and most of the time complete lack of shame.

“Just thinking about how fantasies aren’t worth it,” answers Bella finally, picking blades of grass out of his hair that had gotten tangled in it when he’d been wrestling with Jared.

He smiles faintly, one arm wrapping around the small of her back the other around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Hmm, she thinks, smiling at his warmth seeping through her summer dress, he’s better than any fantasy.

Title: Denied

Based: Post-Eclipse.

Rating: PG

Wind weaves through the chimes softly, the metallic music almost like an afterthought as she stands still outside of his house. She looks down at her hands with new eyes, at the bloodless white that is her skin. What had been the point of all this? Love? Immortality?

Jacob will never look at her again.

Bella doesn’t feel it’s real even as she knocks on the faded wood of the door, her red eyes staring up into grey, her whisper of ‘Kill me’ against his skin.

She thinks it’s worse when he looks at her with pity, and tugs her in by the wrist.

Writer's Block: Parental Involvement

Sun, 26 Jul 2009 17:07:23 GMT

Are you friends with your parents?

View 502 Answers

Nope. I've never been friends with them that I recall.

Part of it is that we're too damn different. They're kind of controlling in some ways plus they're homophobic, which is a problem for me being bisexual (they have no idea of this). I like to think I'm openminded, but I don't know.

They get on my nerves too much to be anything other than,"mom, dad," or,"green meanie, and pesto."

Writer's Block:

Sat, 25 Jul 2009 23:25:05 GMT

What's your favorite dessert?

View 503 Answers

I dunno really. There are so many desserts that I like to eat, but if I had to pick it would be either chocolate fudge or strawberry cheesecake. :}

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 01:44:39 GMT

Right now I feel like I can't write or draw anything. Mostly I really just want to read the books on my mini-shelf or fanfics online. I mean, I want to do something but nothing I'm churning out is good and it's just so much AAGJGGK. It's like catching the icecream truck and just when you think you're getting an awesome dreamsicle the guy goes,"FUCK Y'ALL, I'M NOT HAVING THIS," then drives off.

Another thing that happened is that yesterday or the night before yesterday or whatever, I forgot to wash the dishes. My dad goes to bed at about 10 or 11:00 so we're supposed to have it done at roughly about 9:30-ish. So me being me, I thought I'd be slick and unload the clean dishes out of the dishwasher, put them in the cabinet really really quiet, then put the dirty dishes in equally quiet. Unfortunately, my dad has the ears of an angry badger and came out of my parents' room looking pretty ticked.

dad: -squint- "You know you're supposed to get that done early."

me: damn his spidey senses."er, I forgot?" <:'D

morning...6:00.

dad: -slams door open- "RISE AND SHINE, PAYBACK IS LEAVING FOR WORK."

me: -hair is sticking up in different directions- gets up, stares at-

dad: "THAT is for waking me up when I was already asleep. I couldn't back to sleep for an hour because of you."

me: -yawns- "Uh huh."

dad: "now give me a hug, I'm leaving."

me: i hope you get kidnapped by squirrels. -hugs- shuts door in face- goes back to sleep-

I think it's really stupid that he wanted me to hug him after bitching at me. To me that's like slapping a kid then patting them on the head. Honestly it didn't make me want to bitchslap him any less.

Fri, 19 Sep 2008 23:26:41 GMT

Title: Miss Leah

Author: Kimi

Word Count: 2, 458

Characters: Leah, Paul, Jacob, Sam, Emily, Bella, and mentioned Quil.

Pairings: Leah/Paul friendship, Sam/Emily, Jacob/Bella, mentioned Sam/Leah and unrequited Paul/Jacob.

Brief summary: Paul doesn't understand Leah, and she not him. Of course.

Warnings: Some bad language, non-descript nudity, and bitchiness.

a/n: Something for our resident pack bitches. Begins during New Moon by the way and ends later on in Post-Eclipse (there's no Breaking Dawn). Also anything past tense is just that; it happened before anything in present tense. Another thing to keep in mind is that some of it isn't in order.

Leah doesn't know whether to punch him or bite him.

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 00:34:23 GMT

Title: Muffins
Author: Kimiyo (seras_tenshi)
Wordcount: 665
Characters: Embry, Paul, and others.
Pairing(s): mild Embry/Paul, and mention of Sam/Emily, Jared/Kim.
Brief summary: Embry muses on imprinting over muffins.
Warnings: Is snark a warning?

Embry makes a gagging noise in the back of his throat as Sam kisses Emily in the sappiest way possible, similar noises from his pack members’ not eating muffins making him feel less alone in the sentiment.

Sam gives them a look that says, "I'll get you later," and kisses her again. Embry really hopes they never find out that he mimics their kisses while their eyes are closed or when their backs are turned. To be honest, he does not for the life of him understand why Sam’s imprinting is so weirdly gooey sweet and dripping with love that almost seems exaggerated.

He looks down at his three muffins on the paper plate in front of him, suddenly losing his appetite. Their little displays of affection always make him feel like his teeth have just been dipped in cold ice-cream. Why do they act like that? Is it some kind of law for imprint couples to act like they've been shot in the ass with cupid's arrow all the damn time?

Honestly, he's getting a bit tired of it (not that he'd tell Sam or Jared that to their faces, but still). Embry wonders if their imprints ever just shove them away a little bit with a,"Okay, I can take care of myself for five seconds, just chill out," and be passive agressive.

("Honey, I'm going to the store," Emily ignores the look Sam is giving her,"No I won't be killed by a vampire on the way." A scarred hand clamps over Sam's mouth to stop his protest that she should have somebody go with her just to make sure. Emily grabs her purse, slips on her shoes, then rushes out the door before Sam can say anything to stop her.

Of course he will follow her to the store in wolf form then phase back into his normal state in the woods, and wait outside sitting by the car on the ground with a pair of Paul's flower print Hawaiian shorts that she swears are radioactive.

He smiles up at her guiltily, long legs bent in front of him as she taps her foot at him.

"I'm sorry?"

The tapping only gets louder.)

He lets the thought trail off at that.

Brown eyes drift from the golden brown muffins to the boy across the table from him, stuffing his mouth with a handful of blueberry muffin at a time. He pushes the plate of muffins to the other boy with two long fingers, wondering if he'll take the hint to eat them.

Grey eyes light up at the extra three muffins, and Paul smiles at Embry for giving them to him, ignoring the looks from the table's other occupants.

Collin muffles a snicker into his chocolate milk at the looks on their faces. Lately they've been more and more frequent in glancing at each other when they think the others aren't looking; Collin also catches little fragments of their thoughts like, He's nice to me, Embry is, or, He has freckles, I never noticed before.

Jacob doesn't say anything about the wordless exchange, only bites into another muffin with a slightly suspicious look. His attention is deterred when his food starts disappearing rapidly from the plate.

Sam and Emily watch the burly teenage boys with amusement, not really noticing the not so accidental brushes of hands as Paul and Embry pluck food off each other's plates, Paul guffawing as Jacob fights Quil for a handful of french fries he'd managed to swipe when he wasn't looking.

Quil is the only one who notices the subtle exchanges between Paul and Embry, watching them playfully punch each other's arms with a flirting air.

He wonders if maybe, no it couldn’t be…

Maybe they’ve imprinted.

a/n: I swear there's a joke with Emily and Bella's hate for the radioactive flower print shorts.

Mmm, Pie

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 03:03:35 GMT

Title: Mmm, Pie
Fandom: Twilight
Based: Post-Eclipse
Rating: PG

Paul stares at Jacob with unsuppressed irritation. The taller boy is giving him his trademark (stupid, he thinks, wanting to smack him) smirk, hand poised in the air to throw the pie at him, making him wish the contents would just slip out of the metal saucer and just hit him in the face instead.

"Jacob," he says the other's name, stretching the syllables, "I'd rather talk about our problems than get hit with that pie." Jacob's smirk widens even more just to infuriate him, before he laughs like a possessed man and throws the pie.

Right. In. His. Face.

For a moment Paul is too shocked to speak, then he is cocking his fist back and sending it flying to punch Jacob's nose. A noise that sounds like a squeak makes its way through the other boy's mouth as he loses his balance and falls on his ass, nose bleeding.

Paul wipes the lemon and the cream from his face, then stares at his hands for a moment. What should I do with this? His face lights up as the idea dawns on him.

A wicked grin tugs the corners of his lips up until the whites of his teeth show. Crouching down, he reaches towards Jacob who is cursing at him over his bleeding nose; he wipes the sticky white and yellow substance on Jacob's cheek. He dodges the swipe of a large hand just in time and hops up and runs out the door with Jacob's large form following close behind.

Glancing around for something that might deter Jacob from killing him, his face brightens at the sight of a bright green hose laying across a garden that he identifies as Kim's. Jacob growls from somewhere behind him, and he feels the rush of air as he ducks another swipe, this time aimed at his shoulder.

The hose is plucked from the ground and held tightly in his hand as he scrambles to the faucet. He grins at Jacob, then turns the faucet and places his thumb on the place where the water is running.

Jacob sputters and spits like a cat (which he finds ironic in an amusing way) threatening death on him and claim over Paul’s first born child.

Paul hides in Kim and Jared’s house for at least a week or two.

The Unexpected 1

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 04:45:36 GMT

The Unexpected

AN: Just a series of Twilight drabbles I'll probably be updating every once in a while. :')

Paul/Bella drabbles

Title: Surprise

Based: Sometime after Eclipse.

Rating: G

Paul doesn't look at the thin, brunette girl with too long bangs and clean make-up free face. He honestly wishes he had never seen her at all, and tries his hardest to ignore her soft humming, the click of her heels against the wooden bench as she leans into him.

"It's funny that it ended like this."

He can't help but agree.

Title: Secret

Based: During New Moon.

Rating: T

“Hey, mousey,” says Paul, smirking as she makes a face at the puffs of smoke from his parted lips, “You want one?” The slender stick is held out to her, and she scrunches up her nose so she doesn’t smell the smoke burning her nose, her eyes watering. She remembers that she quit smoking years ago, that her hand shouldn’t be reaching for the cigarette, other hand plucking the lighter from the grasp of his larger one.

A sigh escapes her when she inhales the acrid smoke, still knowing how to flick the ash off the end without getting it on herself.

“I haven’t smoked in so long…” muses Bella, sitting down beside the younger teen with a small cough. Paul takes a few more drags on his own before stamping it out with his foot and reaching for another in his pocket. They sit in silence for a while, not really doing anything except scuffing the toe of their sneakers against the dirt, tapping the whitewashed wood with their fingers; generally nothing exciting.

“Jake knows you smoke?” asks Paul, tilting his head toward her, grey eyes curious.

Bella just smiles at him, and puts her finger to her lips in a shushing motion.

Title: Revive

Based: During the period Bella is kind of zombie-like.

Rating: G

Paul stares at her with barely concealed distaste as she stares back at him with a bleak expression on her pale face. It’s like the life has been reeled out of her like a fish on a hook, then gutted where her arms are wrapped around her chest. The metaphor makes him frown and reach for her sleeve clad arm, fingers tugging on the red fabric hard enough for her to purse her lips together in a harsh line, eyes narrowed at him from behind the curtain of mahogany strands.

Bella wishes, honestly wishes, that this boy will leave her to the emptiness she has resigned herself to since Edward left.

He doesn’t listen to her silent plea.

Title: Laughter

Based: No particular timeline.

Rating: G

Bella doesn’t know the tall boy, who comes in while she flips through a recipe book for how to make banana pudding. First impressions are important, she thinks, smiling politely at him even though she has no idea why he’s in her house or how he knows how to get here in the first place. Grey eyes meet her maple brown ones as she blinks at him from where she’s laying ingredients across the counter, touching the tip of her finger to the tops of the boxes and bowls as she counts silently to herself.

“There any reason why you’re here?” asks Bella, smile faltering as her confusion slips through. At first he doesn’t answer her right away, just looks her up and down with a thoughtful air.

“Jacob told me how to get here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” replies the boy, glancing at the white bowl she’s now tip-toeing to get from a shelf in the cabinet, “Name’s Paul by the way.”

She says, ”Ah”, when he mentions Jacob, and smiles when she finally grasps the edge of the bowl, pulling it down. There’s no sound except for the drumming of his fingers against the table, the ripping of the package of banana flavored instant pudding (Yes, she knows she’s cheating a bit, but nobody needs to know that) and the scrape of the chair against the floor as he pulls it back to sit in.

Paul rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment as he admits, “They told me you know how to cook.”

A laugh escapes her before she can stop it.

That Car

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 04:39:40 GMT

Title: That Car
Fandom: Twilight
Based: Twilight.
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, therefore Jacob, Paul, and the car.

A/N: Just a random piece that I hope you find amusing. :’)

Paul sits on the wobbly little stool with one hand braced against the red car Jacob is working on, trying not to show his irritation at not being able to find a better perch. The number of times he’s asked Jacob to get a new stool so he won’t bust his ass on the floor of the other boy’s tool filled haven has become countless (He stopped at twenty one), and really he just doesn’t feel like complaining about it anymore. It’s better to suck it up with some dignity than to glare at Jacob like a kid being picked last to play basketball when the other laughs at him.

“Hey, you almost—“Paul doesn’t get to finish his sentence as he loses his balance and falls to the floor with an ‘oof!” and a string of curses from the throbbing pain in his head where he’d banged it against the rim of one of the tires.

Why does this happen every time I get near his damn car? Jacob snickers at him every single freakin’ time he mentions that Jacob’s car is the devil and that Jacob is its advocate; he has to be, this many ‘coincidences’ just can’t be possible. One incident happened while he had been sitting on the hood of the car while Jacob worked under it, bare legs dangling off and swinging over the front of it. He hadn’t been a werewolf at that time, so he is quite sure he could have died when the car suddenly started up and lurched forward, causing him to fly forward, nearly swallowing the gum he was chewing and hitting a bored with a nail sticking up. Needless to say he was relieved that the nail missed his face by inches.

That would’ve been something to explain to his mother (“Errr, mom my eye is bleeding. A lot. I’m not sure we can fix this….I do know it’s Jacob’s fault though.” He can almost feel the blood that would’ve been running down his face right about now. Well, at least he’d know that Jacob could give him his eye later. Ha.). Honestly? This damn death trap is one of the things he’ll never let Jacob live down, just like Jacob will never let him live down the sloppily drawn tattoo of a coyote on his hip that Sam gave him on a drunken romp that he wishes he could forget.

Jacob has rolled out from underneath the car (who he thinks favors Jacob, stupid possessed machine) with a rag in hand, wiping the grease from one of the tools he’d used to do God-knows-what under there, and is giving him a smile that plainly says, “You’re slightly retarded, but still amusing.”

He resists the urge to take the monkey wrench a few inches away and throw it at him.

-----
a/n: It's so hard not to poke at them.

Life As It Were

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 04:28:50 GMT

Title: Life as It Were

Fandom: Twilight
Based: Sometime before the first novel.
Rating: G

Disclaimer: Bella and Renee belong to Stephenie Meyer, I own nothing.

Bella walks down the hall of their home with a bed head that has her wincing as she attacks the tangles and knots with a bristled brush. The hall light is off so she treads carefully over the baskets of clothes lining the wall as well as some of the worn ones that lay strewn on the floor; she’s especially careful of things that will send her sprawling to the wooden floor, the last time being painful after all. Renee had stayed up late last night with the bills, waving off her offers to do the laundry and her questions about whether she’d eaten dinner or not with a, “Oh sweetheart, I’m fine! Go off and do what you want to do,” and a peck on the cheek.

It didn’t stop her from worrying of course, not at all.

Immersed in her thoughts as she is, she forgets to watch where she is going and bumps her knee against the coffee table along with stubbing her toe against the trashcan sitting innocently by the couch. The bang causes Renee to poke her head out from the kitchen with a curious expression, amusement leaking into it at Bella’s muttering and hands rubbing her now throbbing knee and toe.

Bella picked the brush up off the carpet and placed it on the couch next to her, holding in curses at the coffee table.

“Bella, sweetie, I can’t bubble wrap the house,” chuckles Renee, dodging the cushion thrown at her, “But I can brush your hair out for you.” Renee walks over to Bella, smiling cheerfully at her daughter’s glaring face that makes her want to pinch her cheeks more than anything (Bella would probably just scowl at her and mutter something like, “Cheek abuser…”).

Hazel eyes glancing at the harsh bristles on the brush, she frowns, then reaches over to pluck her own brush from the coffee table (She doesn’t keep it in her room because more than likely it’ll be lost somehow) with less hair damaging ones attached. Bella starts tensing when Renee holds the strands close to the root above the large tangle and begins working through it steadily despite Bella’s ‘oww, oww,’ and ‘not so fast pleease.’

The tangle is gone a few minutes later, Renee’s hand smoothing down the long mahogany strands gently while the other runs through her own shorter, light brown hair absently. Sometimes Renee sees a lot of Charlie in Bella, like when Bella makes attempts at dancing but comes off looking like a bit of a spazz; not that she will ever tell Bella that or anyone else for that matter, despite the truth in it.

Bella turns to look at her with eyes that are too wide, lips too full, and Renee doesn’t see that much of herself in her daughter other than her own board straight hair.

She just hopes that Bella doesn’t make the same mistakes either of them did.

AN: I wrote this in an effort to figure out what Bella's life might've been like before moving to Forks. This isn't the last one based in pre-Forks time either. XD Renee's just too amusing not to write about.

Water colors. I has them.

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 21:00:20 GMT

My grandparents took us to the mall today to buy my brother a present for his birthday (July 17), and we ended up getting a Zelda game, a pretty flower shirt (for me), and some food. Well, let me explain something first: The people at Osaka Grill love my pictures. We go there pretty regularly to eat so they know our faces, so I brought my sketchbook one time in case I wanted to draw something neat. This little asian guy sees my pictures and says,"You draw me one?" so I'm like,"Okay, I have one here that's already drawn, here ya go."

Now, he whips the picture out everytime he sees us, along with a sharpie asking if I can add one to the others I've drawn on it. There is this Chinese boy that works there, whom I don't know the name of, that I drew on there. When we were there today, the picture was out and my grandmother, Dot, was looking at it, he points to the picture and goes,"See, that one is me."

Gran: -looks at him then to picture- laughs- "Oh, that looks just like you." lols
"Hey what nationality are you? Chinese?"
C. guy: "Um, Chinese." -laughs-

Me: -whispers to mom- "It's obvious because it has the same baseball cap he always wears."

Hobby Lobby, kicks ASS. If you do any kind of creative activity, then HL probably has it in there. My first reaction was,"Aljdljlfjlfj, must find water colors NOW!" and basically ran around like a mad thing to where the paint section is. The paint section isn't very big, but hell does it have a lot of different paints. :'D It's insane in a good way.

While we were walking to the section with clay, we saw this thing that looked like a gothic flower pot with red flowers, fake jewels, and red and black feathers sticking out of it. WORD. Just freaking word.

Plus my grandpa also got this thing with an art set in it, acrylic paint, a thing that holds your canvas up while you paint, a thing to carry the stuff with, and some brushes. -flails- I'm so glad he isn't an artsy person. He has no use for it so he gave it to me. -flails even more- Yays!!!

<3's art set.

Finally got an icon. :p

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 01:43:19 GMT

I visited this site called The Maverick, a Reno Shrine (which is pretty kickass btw) - http://turks.sophitia.org/reno/media.php?icons

I love Reno, and the icon was adorable, because his facial expression is hilarious.

Writer's Block: The Eternal Nocturnal Struggle

Sat, 14 Jun 2008 02:20:51 GMT

Vampires or werewolves?

View 502 Answers

I like vampires and werewolves. Both are loved equally by me, and anybody that knows me knows that.

I glanced at the page of people who answered this question, and am amazed at the sheer multitude of people who like them because of the Twilight series. To be completely honest, I liked vampires and werewolves waaaay before I ever read Anne Rice or Stephenie Meyer's books. Let me explain why I like them.

Vampires are dark (like roaming at night, rough past, that kind.), pretty, sparkly(as in when they're mesmorizing you with their charm -sigh- not actual sparkling), have the speed and strength of large predators and are supposedly graceful. They also provide the danger of draining the blood of your hero/heroine, but with love sprinkled onto it. ;] Sorry, couldn't help that poke at SM.

Anyways, I find them fascinating not for the things above, but for how they deal with their existence. It must be a lonely one to be sure, all of the people you love live happy and full lives while you face the possibilty of being alone after they pass on. Having to feast on people that you once were able to wholeheartedly relate to, but now aren't able. To wake one day and find that everything you love is gone?

That's not a completely pleasant existence even if they do find someone to share it with them. Don't even get me started on the bone-seeping thirst they have. :p

Werewolves are a fascinating race to write about. :3 Especially when you put a clan or two beside a building full of vampires, oh how fun that is. They always seem to get into little wars with the vampires, and it never matters who starts it or anything.

-clears throat- Um, yes, anyway. Werewolves. They fascinate me because they can go between man and wolf, and how fun and irritating it must be to them to have the human nature conflicting with the wolf nature. I can't even begin to imagine going somewhere and having sounds, and smells assaulting you from all sides with a sharpness that borders on painful.

There's also the matter of -drumroll- imprinting! C'mon, you knew this was coming. :)

I'm only looking at this because I myself write Twilight fanfic, so I have to deal with imprinting. Let me tell you something, it is one of the hardest things to write especially if you write a non-canon ship. It's something that has built itself on so much of the 'love at first sight' type stuff that I just want to kick something when someone even mentions it. I'm not kidding. Cannot. Stand. Imprinting. When I first read about it in the books, I just sat there and went,".........She's kidding right?" and kind of twitched when she wasn't. :\

I'd have been swayed more if she had made it like they'd spent so much time together they'd formed a really deep bond. Instead we get imprinting. Ha. I don't know whether to go forward with this or keep going.

I leave you with a question: When one has eternity, what does one need to live through it with?

Chew on that one for a bit. ;)

paul/jacob twilight_drabbles

Wed, 04 Jun 2008 03:42:17 GMT

Title: Water

Fandom: Twilight
Based: Sometime before the first novel.
rating: G

Paul opens the door quietly, making sure not to open it wide enough to creak. He smiles at the sight of Jacob washing dishes in the kitchen, long black hair tied in its usual ponytail. The smile dims at the awful, worn t-shirt that Jacob has had since he was thirteen.

Jacob's hair is a stark contrast to the bright yellow and the large red paint splotch on the place where he supposes the other boy's hip is. A rip shows the skin of his arm where he'd torn it on a nail trying to help Billy fix the roof.

He's behind him, hands out in front of him to prepare for the attack. A battle cry tears from his throat and he pounces onto Jacob's back, arms wrapping around his neck.

He sputters when Jacob places his thumb under the faucet and gives him a face full of water.

Title: Run

Fandom: Twilight
Based: After Eclipse.
rating: G

It's cold.

He stares at Jacob, who's sitting across from him staring into the cup of coffee in his hands. Steam curls and disappears into the air as Paul opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and purses his lips in an angry line. Anger flashes white-hot as he catches glimpses of long brown hair, pretty broken eyes, and a bell-like voice laughing at a joke he'd told.

"Why don't you just run to her?"

It pains him even more to know that Jacob would.

Grandma

Sat, 24 May 2008 20:09:42 GMT

.....Ugh.

I'm kind of sluggish today. We woke up at 8 or 9 something in the morning and visited my grandparents in Louisiana(sp?) and basically ate lunch, watched tv (We don't have cable by the way), and caught up.

Kind of less eventful than it usually is when we go over there. :| Usually my grandma is giving me junkfood, than at the same time telling me that I'm either going to a) get fat, or b) get diabetes, from eating too much of it.

:| And she's eating it while she's telling me this.

One thing that's funny is that she goes to the racetrack. A lot. She's always bringing home Delta Downs t-shirts and when we visit, she gives them to us. We just use them for sleep shirts. :3 So, yeah, I love my grandma.

Yeah, that isn't even really a quarter of her insanity...

NaNoWriMo - First day

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 04:32:09 GMT

Today was my first day of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and I was extremely confused as to what I was supposed to be doing.

Now see, I knew you were supposed to start writing from scratch at 12 o'clock local time on November 1, and keep writing until November 30; Iknew that. I just got kind of confused because I was looking around the forums and they had little bars under their names that said the amount of words out of 50,000.

Now I'm not dumb or anything like that, but that just boggled me, because I went to my account and kept clicking on the word excerpt because I'm used to Lj. XD Usually I pick up on things a little bit faster than that but.....I think it was the caffeinated icee I drank earlier that just kicked my brain out of the world of logic. I just sat there glaring at it for a second before realizing how riduculous I was being, I mean how hard can it be to write 50,000 words and up?

Then again my inner grammar ninja would be stabbing my brain with a kunai the whole time because NaNo doesn't require you to have perfect grammar or anything ( Which, IMHO, I think is amazing.)

I've been reading Harry Potter again by the way, and I'm on the fourth book. So far I'm gaining a serious liking to all the Tri-Wizard champions (Not that I didn't like Harry before mind you, but I like Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur too.), and I really shouldn't, but I am and they're just so cute....-Wibbles at the cute-

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 02:57:47 GMT

I love it when game designers feel the need to poke fun at people. :3 My dad was moving around doing something while my brother showed me an anime where the characters were drawn by the creator of DBZ. I think it was called Blue Dragon??

Anyway, he said that the people who made the areas on the game, made it to where you have to say," Give me your man-loving equipment," to get into the area. XD

Bit strange conversations...

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 23:58:55 GMT

I've noticed that my brother and I talk about random things a lot, and it's not just about ,"Oh, you want icecream?" "Yeah" "Okay, let's go get some", it's kind of strange.

Okay, for instance, when we came home a short while ago we unloaded the groceries from the truck or whatever like we usually do, only this time we had icecream and coca-cola and that means caffeine. So we put the cold things in the refridgerator and the other stuff in cabinets before popping off the top of the icecream, scooping it up and putting it into bowls while simultaneously pouring cola into them (Well maybe not simultaneously, but we really wanted to start eating it quick.).

It was actually a hard decision to make between orange soda and cola, but I picked the latter simply because it's cola. I mean I'm not going to just sit there and judge it like it's so awesome that I would need to because that's just stupid. Not that I'm a fountain of wisdom on soda but as long as I don't feel I'm going to be poisoned by it I figure it's fine. So we're sitting there eating it when my mom comes in and makes herself one, not a big one, like cup-sized I think, and my brother says:

"I wish my blood was made out of chocolate syrup."

I didn't even blink. Mama just kept eating because he's always saying stuff like this, so it's commonplace. Instead of asking why though, I just told him that if he got a paper cut people would be trying to suck his blood dry like he's a chocolate rabbit in easter. He doesn't say anything but goes over to one of the bags and goes," I got some chocolate syrup here."

Blink, blink." I don't remember you getting any syrup......"

He gives me this grin that makes me wanna step back a few steps in case it accidentally falls from his hands and hits me.

" Guess what size it is?" Then he pulls out this bigass bottle of syrup almost as tall as my knee. I just kind of stared at it like wow, y'know? There isn't really much you can say about it except, they must've shed some easter bunny blood for this..

Frankly, I don't like the chocolate easter bunnies that much anyway, they just really aren't that satisfying except for eating the ears. :\

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 01:44:43 GMT

Routine

By Kimiyo

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Tohru doesn’t know what to think when an intoxicated Kagura hammers her fist against the not so thick plastic and glass of her apartment door, making loud and slurred declarations about cats, sidewalks, and the woes of having a cafe job. Vibrations from the boar's harsh knocking seems to make her small apartment shake and her bare toes curl against the cold wooden floor. She rocks back and forth on her heels for a moment before reaching for the doorknob, pale fingers closing tightly around it and turning.

Kagura's tired face meets her welcoming one; the other's pale fist still paused mid-knock.

No reason comes to mind for the older girl to be coming over this late at night, other than maybe to talk or stay over for awhile; both had happened a few times, ending with Kagura falling asleep on her couch with the tv still on, the light from the screen making the shadows under her eyes seem ghastly. Tohru would walk into the hall leading to her bedroom to grab an extra blanket, taking a second to run her fingers over the picture of herself and two boys.

She would smile at the face of the silver haired boy on her right who was smiling at the younger her in the picture, sadness creeping into it at the gruff face of the redheaded boy whose hand was on her shoulder gently squeezing it. Sometimes it hurt to look at the photo for too long when her friend was just a few footsteps away- Alcohol drenched, but she's hurting too- a poor reflection of her once lively self who used to smile and laugh and was strong.

Then she would lay the picture facedown and leave the room only to see Kagura standing in the hallway, hand on a cocked hip, brown hair sticking up on one side the other side still framing her face.

“…ru-chan, Tohru-chaaaaaann…”

A hand waving in her line of sight brings her back to the present, a pair of dark grey eyes peering up at her from the dark brown fringe hiding the thin eyebrows she knows are raised in drunken wonderment. Pink lips are curved up into a childlike smile at her, almost like the tear streaked face that had been at the cemetery was just pretend.

Sob.”It’s not true…It’s not true!!” A deceptively strong fist slams into the faded grey of the stone path, scraping knuckles until little rivulets of blood are flowing onto the cracks made. Sobs and screams tear from her throat as she hits it again and again, glad to have something tangible and solid and there.

The younger girl behind her doesn’t watch her, just keeps running her fingers over the names on the stones while the tears drip down her chin. She wonders briefly if they can feel her tears marking their final resting place, hopes that they know that every one of them is her way of apologizing, that she’s sorry she wasn’t there and that she couldn’t stop it.

“Please, please forgive me. I-I couldn’t save my mom, I couldn’t really help the Sohmas, an-and…” It is then she notices that the other girl’s screams have ceased, she glances over her shoulder only to feel one coat clad arm around her neck and the other wrapped around her waist.

Kagura’s quiet voice whispers,” Tohru-chan, it isn’t your fault, it’s nobody’s fault except for that damn drunk driver,” the arm around her waist tightens,” Let’s just go home, okay?” Tohru looks back at Kagura’s weary face and manages to give a weak smile.

“Okay, Kagura-san,” says Tohru, looking back at the graves one last time.

Instead of saying anything about it Tohru puts an arm around Kagura’s shoulders and leads her to the couch, helping her to a laying position. A sigh escapes her lips as she stands to go get the blanket like the other times, when Kagura’s hand grasps her wrist in an almost steel grip.

“Stay with me?”

The question holds a million meanings they aren’t yet willing to talk about yet, but Tohru sits by her anyway, sinking back into the cushions while Kagura slips her fingers through hers.

Hm, she thinks, a break in the routine.

Author's Notes:

Okay, errr, I don't have any author's notes on the version that's posted on FF.Net but I just wanted to say some things. I adore this story, sad as it is, and that I probably could've done better with the concept of it. I hope you like it and tell me what you think about it.

seras_tenshi

Fri, 10 Aug 2007 18:14:44 GMT

My Avatar on Gaia! I need to get more Gaia money to update her though. ^^;

Sun, 29 Jul 2007 04:23:41 GMT

Hmmmmmmm, I've got new ideas for some fanfics. My main idea that I want to bring to light is the renewment of the whole Bulma-breaking-up-with-Yamcha concept, that probably every writer has tried to portray at one time or another, but never had the patience to write out in a believable way. One thing I've never really grasped is how everyone seems to think that the relationship ending was completely Yamcha's fault. Since Dragonball they've been dating on and off, getting into fights over petty things on Bulma's part, flirting on Yamcha's, and face it; we all knew it was coming sooner or later.

I was honestly suprised they didn't end the relationship sooner than they did. Finding out Trunks was Bulma and Vegeta's son didn't shock me, seemed kind of plausible at the time, but I totally felt for Yamcha when Goku mentioned Bulma having a baby. He went into uber-nervous mode with this weird laughing, generally making him look sort of scary in a way......

Now don't even get me started on Goten's birth and how Chichi and Gohan handled that.

I'm sick

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 04:10:24 GMT

I've been sick since last weekend, tis' not fun at all. We took the TAKS test earlier and I'm suprised I didn't cough up my lung.....I was hacking the whole time because I forgot to take my medicine. ^^; Drinking grape juice didn't make it any better either, in fact I think it just made it worse...

I notice that when I'm in math, I always find something perverted about what the teacher's saying. Now don't get me wrong. My mind isn't always in the gutter, though it is most of the time...