Aspiring Writer - Tumblr Posts

Help me decide or I'll go mad

My current dilemma as a writer is whether I write...

A. A gay romance between Romeo and Mercutio with Juliet as Romeo's beard and best friend, the fight of both houses their most terrible enemy and a lot of angst because of compulsory heterosexuality

OR

B. A poly romance between Romeo, Mercutio, and Juliet with enemies to lovers Romeo and Juliet, a very-tired-of-the-fight-let's-make-them-kiss Mercutio, secret relationships, a side romance between Rosalina and Paris, and a mystery in fair Verona that Mercutio is obsessing over.

I just love my ocs relationship

I mean, I'm always down for enemies to lovers but whatever profound hatred and honest disdain they have for each other's very being that will eventually turn to the sweetest, most kind type of love Amalie and Khaos have going on?

That shit is making me go FERAL

World of Wolves

Here I am, following my mother into war. The power-crazy wolves on the other side wanted bloodshed, and they will get it. Hi, I’m Lunar. You have to know the story behind this before I go any further. Don't worry, it won't be boring. 

“I'm a werewolf,” I said in front of the mirror, trying to find the best way to say it without sounding crazy. “It's nothing much, I can turn into a wolf sometimes. I'm not even that strong!” 

“Oh yes, you are! You are the Alpha's firstborn child! You are going to lead this pack one day!” Said my brother, Zack, as he strolled into my room as if he owned it. We werewolves live in a forest, so there is plenty of room for each section of the pack to have their cave. The sections are the different classes of wolves, such as warriors, healers, pups, mothers, and elders, and each Royal wolf gets their cave. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my room!?” I said, “I don't go striding into your room as if it's mine!”

“You are my sister, I can be in your room all I want!” He declared. 

“What is going on here? Lunar! You're supposed to be at the bus stop in 7 minutes!” my mother exclaimed. She was wearing a camo T-shirt, and a pair of matching shorts. She had a moonstone necklaces on, all royal wolves get them when they turn 18. Sadly, I was only 16. 

“I'm going!” I said back in a small smirky voice. “Sheesh, I don't even want to go to a mortal academy, why do I have to?” 

“Because if you ever want to fit in with mortals, you must act like them.” She  responded with one of her “Queenly” voices, “It is for your protection.”

“I don't want to be like mortals! They are frail and are the most selfish, heartless, careless, cruel creatures on the planet!” I pleaded, but mymother just gave me one of those “don't make me come over there” looks. I groaned as I quickly grabbed my bag, said my goodbyes, and headed for the bus stop. I was the first there, so I just hung out and enjoyed it. This was one of the few times I have been in human territory. As I waited, more people walked up to the bus stop. The bus soon arrived, and I sat at the back of the bus. After I sat down, a strange boy asked to sit beside me. I agreed, thinking there was no problem with sitting with a human, but to my surprise, he asked me this: “During the night, what is your favorite source of light?”

For a second, I froze. This was the little riddle to see if you're a werewolf.

“The moon,” I said. Every wolf pack had their code to see which pack you were in. “how about you?”

“In the darkest of times, we must make our own light.” He said.

Oh god, that's not good. He’s in the Shadow Wolf Pack, and they're everyone’s enemy. 

“My name is Felix, what's yours?”

“My name is Lunar.” I said as I extended a hand slowly to shake his, trying to be polite. He could probably tell that I didn't trust him when he looked at the ground nervously. A few minutes later, the bus was on its way to Maple Bridge High School. 

You are probably wondering a lot of things right now, so let me explain before I get to school. There are a few wolves that live in the mortal world, and they usually make alot money. That way, if one of the pack members needs to do something in the human world, there is no need to worry about money, or other stupid human rules. People don't know about us, because if humans were to ever come near one of our bases, we would turn into a wolf, and scare them off. There are four packs, Moon Wolf Pack, Thorn Wolf Pack, Sky Wolf Pack, and Shadow Wolf Pack. 

The Moon Wolf Pack represents the moon and stars. We believe that werewolves created the moon, to give us something to remember who we are. We can also breathe with less oxygen, or hold our breaths for longer than others. There are even some Moon wolves that can read the stars, and can predict the future. The Thorn Wolf pack is a pack brought together by loyalty and family. They would die for each other and not trust others easily. They are really big with arranged mates, which is one of the oldest traditions in werewolf packs. They also have tough skin, and are larger than the other wolves, making them more durable and better for fights. The Sky Wolves live in trees, not caves. They are fantastic climbers, and are a bit smaller than other wolves with bigger paws and sharper claws, making it easier for them to maneuver and climb. They have white fur, making them blend in with the clouds if anyone looked up at them in the trees. The Shadow wolves on the other hand think that one wolf should rule them all. They fear their Alpha, but stay because he can protect them from anything. Shadow Wolves have pitch-black fur, making it nearly impossible to see them in the dark, or darker places. Rumor has it that the Shadow wolves sacrifice one of their own every month to become more powerful.

The bus pulled up to the school. When I say there were a lot of humans, I mean, there were like hundreds of humans. I walked out of the bus with my bag, already hating the fact I was close to these disgusting downgrades. No matter how hard I tried, Felix, the Shadow Wolf wouldn't stop following me. I mean, I guess I would do the same if I knew another werewolf was here with me. It did seem a bit strange that he was in almost every class, even on my PE soccer team. The hallways smelled like teenagers dreams… being destroyed. The boring tan walls were lined with blue metal lockers. The first few classes were simple, History, English, and Science. Humans have gotten so much wrong about nature, and it became more apparent when we started doing Biology. Lunch was a typical part of human school rituals. I was hoping to sit alone, but even after I got my lunch, went outside, and to a place that i'm pretty sure was off school bounds, Felix followed me. I guess he really wanted to hang out…? After I sat down, he sat a few feet away from me. We were just quietly eating our lunches before he spoke up. 

“Does every wolf in the Moon Wolf Pack think all shadow wolves are evil?” He seemed so innocent when he asked, I felt a little bad.

“I mean, not everyone. I don’t think all shadow wolves are evil.” I answer, trying to make him feel a little better. It's the stereotype that shadow wolves just want war. “Thanks, it's nice to know we're not hated everywhere.” 

Soon after our little chat, the bell rang. For the rest of the day, everything seemed normal. At least as normal as things can go for a first day of school. 

 The forest is such a relaxing place to walk. Just listening to the crickets, the birds, the leaves in the trees as the wind lightly flows through. The fallen leaves crunching underneath my feet, hearing distant chatter among animals of the forest, and the slight bustle of the town far from our own. I walked into my home, feeling on top of the world, like nothing could go wrong as long as I'm with the forest. My peace was soon destroyed by the fact my brother wastangoing very… passionately with the nurse's daughter, Clover, in my room. I know I'm the only one with a radio, but still, not cool. 

“Hey Zack, I thought I told you to stay out of my room,” I say as I lean against the wall next to the radio, clicking it off.

“I know,” He whined “but you have a radio, and I want to take Clover to the dance at my school”

“You're not even in high school. You don't have dances.” I tell him, not believing a word he's saying. Even though I didn't have to go to grade school, my parents thought it would be best to prepare Zack.

“Okay fine. It's a human party, but I really want to go! All the other humans are going, and I heard parties are fun!” He said quickly, trying to convince me not to tell Mom and Dad that he was lying. “Welcome home by the way”

“Thank you, now out of my room,” I said, pointing to the exit.

“But-” He tried to protest.

“Out!” I said, pointing towards the exit. He sulked out of my room, trying to make me feel guilty, sniffling fakely as he walked out.  

After I got home, I immediately left to go walk through the forest as my wolf self. There's a river not too far away from our den, and it's quite a destination for humans. Some of which go floating down to the park just outside the forest. Without fail, people always went down the river whenever it was over a hundred degrees. Weekday or weekend. Non. Stop. Most of them are loud and obnoxious. I usually howl or run around the river when those people pass by, it's really fun to freak them out.  There are a few people that go on these black rubber tubes and dont have music blaring out of some speakers. Anyways, I went down to the river and watched some fish swim by. It's really peaceful and it's nice to go there to reconnect to the forest. 

The next morning, I walked to the bus stop. Obviously, I was first there as usual. Only about ten minutes later, Filex walked out of the forest. He gave me one of those awkward half smiles that you give to people you don't really know but you had like, one conversation with. As we stood there, we both tried to make small talk, but failed miserably. I'm pretty sure babies were born and the same babies grew up, got a job, lived their life, then died before the other kids got to the bus stop. Once the bus arrived, we all piled on it like a barrel of monkeys. As the teens in the bus got off at the school, they all parted to go meet up with their friends. Me on the other hand? Straight to class. I sure didn't want to get stuck in another situation with Felix again. At lunch, I went to the same spot I did yesterday. 

The next few days continued the same. Go to school, avoid all human contact, have some strange interactions with Felix, and go home. At least until Friday. It started normal, but then another girl from around the corner. She had a white t-shirt with black vinyl claw marks, black ripped jeans, jade teardrop earrings, and black sneakers with white pinstripes. Her hair was brown and curly with blond highlights. She. Was. GORGEOUS. I was so flabbergasted at her outfit that I barely heard her say hello! She waved her hand in front of my eyes.

“Sorry! Hi.” I say as I shake my head violently, snapping back into reality.

“All good. The name Sage, how about you?” She said with one of the coolest “cool girl” smiles I have ever seen.

“ I’m Lunar. It's nice to meet you, Sage!” I said with one of the coolest smiles I could wear. 

“So uh… do you like stars?” She asked, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

“Yeah, but I prefer the moon,” I said, it was every bit as true as the ground we were standing on.

“Ah, Moon Wolf then?” She asked as if it was not at all dangerous to ask that to a complete stranger.

“You know, you're not really just supposed to ask that to someone you don't know.” I reminded her, turing to face her and looking her straight in the eyes

“But I’m right, am I not?” Her voice was dripping with confidence. I would be lying if I said I wasn't even a little bit jealous of how she could just talk to complete strangers with such swag. 

“I mean, you're not wrong. But still! What if I was a human?” I protested, still thinking she should be just a tad bit more careful. 

“I guess we will never know, because you're not.” She said, still confident. A few seconds later, Felix came out of the forest. He had a few twigs in his hair. I held my hands over my mouth and looked away for a second, to try not to laugh. 

“Hey Lunar! And who may you be?” Felix asked, trying to be polite. 

“This is Sage. Sage, this is Felix.” I said as I introduced them to each other. 

“Shadow wolf, right?” Sage asked

“Y-yea, how did you know?” Felix asked, astounded by the fact she knew. 

“Pitch black hair, a little scroungy, semi-formal clothes, all that jazz.” Without skipping a beat, she added “Thorn wolves are supposed to be able to identify their opponents, so it helps to identify possible friends too.”

Inside, there were rainbow bunnies dancing around in my stomach. Someone was thinking of being friends with me! More kids arrived soon, so we just went into a corner and talked amongst ourselves. The main topics of our conversations were cool places we like in the forest, places we want to go, and pack traditions. The bus soon arrived, picking up all the kids. When we got to school, things were a bit different. Me, Sage, and Felix were hanging out in our own little group. The day continued, just a little bit stranger than I thought. At lunch, we found a new place to eat together. It was a tall bush that was bent over a little bit, giving us all enough shade to sit in. It was close to the school air conditioning unit, so not many people sat there. Before we knew it, the school day was over. Just before we were about to walk back into the forest, Sage asked us something. 

“Do you guys want to hang out or something this weekend…? I mean, if you want. If you're not busy or anything.” 

“I'm down for it! Not like anyone will care if I'm gone for a few hours or something.” Felix said, getting really excited about the idea of hanging out with us.

“Sure! I'll have to check with my parents first, but I'm sure they will say yes. Where do you want to meet up?” I say, feeling good that I won't just sit around all weekend and wait for time to pass.

“How about… The Paw Mark?” Sage suggested. The Paw Mark is the place where the first four packs became who they are now. It's also a big area shaped like a wolf paw. It's said that it's the paw mark of a god wolf, leaving it there to mark the beginning of werewolf kind.

“Works for me! I have to get back home, but I'll see you there tomorrow!” I said just before running back home. As I returned home, my mother walked up to me.

“You're late. Ten minutes late.” She said, clearly crossed.

“I was hanging out with some friends, sorry.” I said as I kept walking straight to my room. “We were planning on hanging out this weekend. Is that okay with you?”

“Who are these people you are calling friends? Are they humans?” I could tell she was not in the mood to hear one of my many smart-alec responses, so I just told her the truth. Well, most of it anyway.

“They're werewolves from other packs. We're going to The Paw Mark tomorrow to hang out”

“What packs are they from? How well do you know them? Have they shown any form of aggression towards you? Do they know you're a royal?” She asked, clearly assessing every possible threat. 

“Mom, chill. They're good wolves, and they don't know I'm a royal yet.” I said, trying to calm her down.

“Good, and they never will know. I just don't want you to get hurt, okay?”She said as she laid a gentle kiss on my forehead before she walked out. She stopped just short of the exit. “I just need to know… are any of them Shadow wolves?”

“No, they are not Shadow Wolves,” I said, not wanting to set her off. Once she finally left, I sat on the floor and started doing my homework. I know that if I said that I was friends with a Shadow wolf, my mom would never let me go have fun on the weekends. As much as I love my mom, I want to live my life as normally as possible.

The next morning, I woke up early. I was extremely excited about going to hang out with Sage and Felix. I started looking for an outfit, then just decided to go with a classic black T-shirt and shorts. I didn't make much of a deal to tell my dad I was leaving. I ate some boiled eggs and some fruits and I was on my way to The Paw Mark. As usual, I was the first one there, so I found a nice rock to sit on and hung out for a bit. As I waited, I thought about how nice it would be to have some friends to go hang out with every weekend. Maybe go to the rainbow falls? That would be so cool, and not just a “going to see the falls” cool, like a “I'm going to the falls with others who are not family” kind of cool. I was brought back to earth after I heard a rustle in the bushes. I looked over to see another girl with orange hair and bright blue eyes. She walked up to me, seeming strangely calm to see some stranger in the forest. She spoke with an Australian accent. 

“Hey! You must be Lunar! Nice to meet you, mate!” She said as she sat next to me and gave me a side hug like we were old buddies. She had this ora of kindness, yet… something seemed off.

“Not to be rude, but who are you?” I asked, trying to be nice about it. She seemed nice enough, but my father always made a point to never trust strangers in the forest. He always told me “Strangers like to kidnap little kids and eat them”. I was little when he told me that, and he was joking… I think.

“My mistake. I’m Crimson, I’m a close friend of Felix.” Just as she said this, Felix and Sage walked up behind Crimson. She could probably tell by the look on my face that said nothing but confusion because of what she said next “Bet you didn't expect the Shadow Wolf’s Alpha’s son to hang out with a werefox, now didja?”

“Alpha’s son!? Werefox!?” I repeated, making sure I heard right. So that’s what's wrong with her… she's a werefox! They can't be trusted, even to keep a rock safe.

“Did he not-? Was I not supposed to say that..?” She asked with a little worry in her tone. Felix walked up behind her.

“No, you were not supposed to say that, Crim.” He said with a serious look in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. 

“Oh well, gotta jet!” She said as she turned her heel and started walking the other way. 

“Look, I was going to tell you, both of you… I just didn't want you guys to think I was like a bad guy or something. You said you didn't think all shadow wolves are bad, but I was afraid of what you might think of a royal.” He said to me, his voice was truthful. 

“I guess it's okay, I don’t think all Shadow wolves are evil, either.” Sage said, not really minding the fact he's a Shadow wolf Royal. Me on the other hand? It was killing me. He seemed like a nice guy, but I couldn't trust him. He's a Shadow Wolf Royal! But to be fair, I didn't tell him I was a Moon Wolf Royal either. But that was different. He was on the bad guy's side. I couldn't trust him, what if he told his dad? Or anyone for that matter? Could I really trust him? Would he just be friends with me from that point on to get to my pack…? Oh god, I'm starting to sound like my mom. 

“I guess I don't mind. Besides, we're friends with you, not your dad.” I said, still slightly worried, but still feeling better than he told us. 

“Also, sorry about Crim. She's been my best friend from the forest ever since my dad let me leave the den. Shes the leader of the Stray pack.” He exclaimed as he sits down on a large rock. The stray pack was known for being a mix of different animals that wanted a family of their own.

“That's all right, she seems cool.” Sage comments. I didn't say anything, I just smiled and nodded. As we hung out, I began to feel a little bit safer, being reminded of why I started really hanging out with him. He's cool, kind, funny, and really polite. I guess you can never judge a book by its color, or its name, or back story, or the other books in the series. 

As Sage, Felix, and I were hanging out at The Paw Mark, a few patrol wolves ran back to the Moon Wolf den, reporting humans in the area, looking for a deer. My father gathered a few other wolves, thinking it would be like a regular scare-off mission. He was never one to stand by and let others take care of his business, so he always went with them. My father and a few others turned into wolves, walking closer to the humans. They started off with a few scare tactics, like howling and running around them. These humans were different from others though, they had guns and were not afraid of a fight. My father went in for the first close encounter to scare them off, running right next to them and nipping at them. He ran right past them, but one of the humans took a shot with their hunting rifles, Injuring my father! The other wolves took no time to attack the humans, injuring them back. The man who shot my father went down first, getting tackled and bit on the arm. The other man fired shots at the wolves and shot one. Soon, the men fled the forest, leaving my father and one of his comrades injured. The other wolves that were not injured helped them back. They were laid in the infirmary as quickly as possible. The nurses got to work quickly. Clover tended to the other wolf that was shot, while her mother was tending to my father. Only minutes later, the other wolf that fought alongside my father had lost too much blood… and didn't make it. My father was disheartened, knowing that his comrade didn't make it out of a simple scare mission. Soon, my mother howled into the forest, calling me. I parted with my friends and ran back to the den as fast as possible. Once I got there, I saw my father on the bed of grass. I ran over to him and sat next to him holding his hand. As he told me what happened, I didn't cry, trying to be strong for him. I stayed with him all day and night until he fell asleep. The Nurse said he was going to be fine, and gosh did I hope she was right. 

The next morning my mother woke me up early. Due to my father being unable to leave the infirmary, I was going to go to the pack meeting with her. The packs hold a meeting every Sunday, to talk about important things. Kids usually never go, but today was an important day. As we greeted each other, I was glad Felix wasn't there. I sat next to my mother in my wolf form, as we were all in our wolf form. My mother brought up the fact that my father was shot by humans. 

“My husband, the Alpha of the Moon Wolf Pack, was shot last night by a human. And so was one of his comrades. His comrade died. These humans are becoming braver, stronger, and stronger. We need to do something. I suggest we attack a few humans, sending a message to stay away from our forest. They don't want to come back for a while if humans get hurt or die here.” My mother said, trying to hide any fear or anger in her voice.

“We need to fight back. If they even step into our territory, they must know they are not safe.” Said the leader of the Sky Wolf Pack. He was always showing no fear.

“Why can't we find peace with humans? Maybe if they knew, we could stop hiding! We don't have to live in fear.” Said the Alpha of the Thorn Wolf Pack. They never liked war, so it was no surprise they didn't want to fight.

“Why don't we just bring the fight to them? They will never have peace with us, we need to attack while we're ahead. They will never expect it.” Said the Alpha of the Shadow Wolf Pack. It was no surprise he wanted to fight, I mean the Shadow Wolf pack is the classic evil pack. 

“We will never win that fight, and you know it. We have to find some way we can keep our pack safe.” My mother responded. This cycle of argument went on for about an hour. My mom wants a guard patrol to attack humans that enter, but never kill them. The Sky Wolf Alpha wanting to kill any human who enters, the Thorn Wolf Alpha wanting peace, and the Shadow Wolf Alpha wanting to start the war. Soon, the meeting let out, freeing me from what felt like a time loop. The Shadow Wolf Alpha walked up to us and started talking to us about what my mother said. No matter how hard my mother tried to get out of the conversation, he kept talking. Great, another time loop I  got stuck in. Soon, my mother snaked her way out of the conversation, and we started walking home. Once we got home, we immediately went to check on my dad. As we walked into the infirmary, we saw a shadowy figure in the corner of  the room, holding what looked like a knife! Me and my mom ran in to protect my dad. We called for help, but by the time anyone else got there, the shadowy figure got away, sneaking back into the forest, never to be seen again. No matter how hard anyone looked, we couldn't find them. The only thing me or my mother could think that was going on was that someone was trying to kill our Alpha! And this wasn't just any wolf, it was a Shadow Wolf.

“We need to increase our defenses now. Our pack is in danger, so we must protect it.” My mother said to the other wolves in the den. This was more than just a coincidence, the Shadow Wolf Pack wanted war. They are trying to become the most powerful pack, by taking the other packs down. This was one of the many things the Shadow Wolves wanted to do for a long time. “Alright, what can we do? We can ask the other packs for support, or maybe just some medical supplies. I know the Thorn wolf pack has a large variety of healing herbs.” My mother paced around the room, thinking of what to do. “Your father was always better at planning for battle than I ever have been.” 

“You're doing great, mom.” Me and Zack comforted our mother as she struggled to find a solution. I felt bad that I couldn't help anymore then I already was. 

“Lunar, please come with me. We can go to the other packs together.” She told me.

“W-what? Why do I have to come? Why can't Zack go with you?” I protested. I really didn't want to go, because I didn't want Sage seeing me as a royal. If I saw her, I would have to tell her I am the Alphas daughter, and that wasn't going to be fun.

“Because you are the next in line. You have to come with me. Please? I don't think I can do this on my own.” She pleaded. I can't be selfish about this, my mom needs my help. I will be by her side whenever she needs me.

“Okay, fine. I'll come.” I say as I step next to her. We walked over to the Thorn Wolf Pack first, thinking they would be the most understanding. Once we got over to their den, we told them our situation. No matter how much pleading we did, the Thorn Wolf Pack Alpha didn't budge. He wanted no part of this war, in any way, which is understandable. I looked around nervously as I searched the den for Sage, but couldn't see her anywhere. I was glad I didn't have to explain everything, but I kind of wanted to see her, to tell her what was going on.  My mom was really disappointed that the Thorn Pack didn't want to help. After we said our goodbyes, we walked over to the Sky Wolf Pack. My mom was worried the Sky Wolves wouldn't help either. We walked over, hearing rustling in the trees above. The Sky Wolf Alpha jumped down from a tree, greeting us. We told them the same thing we told the Thorn Wolves, and they too asked to not be a part of this war. We were on our own. We walked back to the Moon Wolf den in defeat. 

The Shadow Wolf Alpha walked over to our den only seconds after we got back. He asked to speak to my mother alone. After what felt like ten trillion years, she walked back over to me as the Shadow Wolves left.

“Prepare the troops. We are now at war.” She said with a dark tone. She walked past me, going into her den. As the wolf troops prepared for battle, I was panicking in my room. Was war really necessary? Yes, we have to settle this, even if it comes to bloodshed. About an hour later, my mother walked out of her den. She led me and my brother in front of the hundreds of wolves  behind us. As we stepped onto the battlefield, I could feel cold air in my hair. As the Shadow Wolves stepped onto the battlefield, my worries grew. There were so many more of them then there are of us. 

Now, this is about the place where we began a while ago, so I hope you're all caught up. As I walked a few steps forward alongside my Mother and brother, I took a final deep breath. We all went full wolf form as did the Shadow Wolves. My mother howled, starting the battle. We ran into war, preparing for the worst. One by one, we fought every wolf. The battle continued for what felt like forever. With the Shadow wolves sheer numbers, they were beginning to over power us. I was separated from my mother and brother in the heat of the fight, soon being knocked down by a Shadow Wolf. I tried to get back on my feet, but he pinned me to the ground. My life flashed before my eyes, as I feared this was the last breath I was going to take. Before the wolf could bite my neck, finishing me off, a strange orange figure jumped on the Shadow wolf, knocking them unconscious. When I looked up, I saw a… fox? And just like that, it clicked. Just like I said before, you can never judge a book by its cover.

“You weren't expecting a werefox to help out, now where ya?” A familiar Australian voice said the fox walked closer to me. It was Crimson! And she wasn't alone. Sage, Felix, and a bunch of other animals like a bear, racoon, mountain lion, and other foxes behind her. Crimson walked over to me, helping me stand.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I stood up, gaining my balance once more. “You shouldn't be here. It's dangerous!”

“I can't stand by and let you or your back suffer because my father is an incompetent buttmunch.” Felix says as he walks next to me, preparing to fight alongside me. “None of us can”

“You're not very good at hiding that you're a royal, you know.” Sage commented, standing on my other side. “We got your back, Lunar.” 

“Thank you guys, you might have just given us the advantage to win this fight!” I said, feeling a new wave of confidence as we charged into battle. With a new team of brute strength and loyalty, no one could stop us. Soon, I found The Shadow Wolf Alpha. The second I had a chance, I went for him. I pounced on his back, knocking him to the ground. 

“You did this! You put your own wolves in a battle to die, just so you can feel better about yourself. You made wolves die, because you felt like you were the rightful king on all werewolves. What, did you pick up a thing or two about Manifest Destiny from the humans?” I yell as I walk towards him, wanting to do nothing more than kill him right then and there. But, Felix ran next to me.

“Don't. This is my fight, not yours. Go help your family, I'll deal with him.” Felix said, glaring at his father. 

“Okay, but be careful.” I say as I run back into the battle, looking for my mother and brother. By what I was told after the fact, Felix challenged his father to a duel. Whoever won, would have soul control over the Shadow Wolf Pack, and would from then on be the Alpha. The battle was quick, with Felix's father getting the first hit. After a few hits were exchanged, and many scratches were made, Felix pinned his father to the ground, making him surender. As his father surrendered, he called off his troops, ending the war. I finally found my family, but seeing my brother on the ground, not moving. I ran over as quickly as I could, making sure he was at least breathing. His chest raised and fell, telling me he is okay. Some nurse wolves came over, helping Zack. Now, I have to make sure Felix is okay. I found my way back to him. 

“Hey, you okay?” I ask him, seeing many cuts and injuries.

“I'm fine. I defeated my father, now I am the Alpha of the Shadow Wolf Pack.” He says, with a little bit of a huff. “It's kind of a lot to take in…”

“Yeah, I would think so.” I said with a little bit of a chuckleA few days later, his father was sentenced to death. He was held in a cell, prepared to be executed in front of all four pack Alphas. As the guards went to retrieve him for his execution, he was gone. He had broken out of the holding cell, and escaped. The guards looked everywhere, but could find any sign of him. A few weeks later, me, Felix, and Sage all went to the Rainbow falls. If the sun hits the waterfall just right, the water will become a rainbow. As we sat, watching the waterfall, I was satisfied. Every pack was safe. I had friends, my father and brother were making a steady recovery, and nothing was wrong anymore. Or… should I be worried about the evil Shadow wolf on the loose? Nah, that's for another story. See you next time, and if you ever see anything in the forest like a wolf in a tree, or a wolf with fur as black as night, or maybe even a group of stray animals being led by a fox. Just know, you're not alone anymore.

Help needed for a novel concept.

I have been toying with the idea of writing a novel, mainly for my own enjoyment and feeling of accomplishment, but I am quite worried it'll turn out too similar to TSH ... I would like to tackle themes of obsession with image and social prestige, but I've seen many works of fiction you can tell were influenced a bit too much by Tartt's work.. if anyone has any tips to help prevent this affect, that'll be appreciated.

Just arrived from IG dues to its AI bullshit.

I'm Regina. I'm a high fantasy writer & traditional artist, with a PHD in procrastination and mental illness.

🎨I draw a lot of different subjects, but my favourites are flowers and leaves. I use a lot of mediums— charcoal, alcohol markers, graphite, pencil colours, etc.

Just getting into watercolor. That's a shitstorm for another day.

📚 My book is about a werewolf, who is the last royal alive in an anti-authoritarian society and has to struggle with his identity being exposed as the pressure of m-rder and politics grows. It comes out in August on Wattpad.

Follow me if you want daily screeches caused by minor inconveniences & a warm community 💚

Here's some of my stuff:

Never let bad grammar stop you from being a writer. There's always gonna be that one patient reader who'll sacrifice their firstborn for your book.

I mean... not writing IS the best part 🤷‍♀️

Wdym writing isn't fun. I get to daydream about my lil guys in my head. I can make them kiss and snap them like twigs.

Dumping this here because no one reads it on Wattpad lol.

Trigger Warning: Death

"I promise."

The words rang out for the millionth time that day.

When my little Star struggled to keep her beautiful Hazel eyes open, with the anesthesia setting in, those had been my last words to her.

When she'd wanted to know if we were going to be okay again, I had responded with a soft kiss to her forehead, and a promise I could never fulfill.

When she'd wanted nothing but the truth, I had given her hope, that this nightmare would end in three hours, that we'd be able to go living our dream lives again.

Three hours passed by. Another three followed. And then, a whole day.

The misery seemed never to end.

I barely registered the words of the people that seemingly cared for my Stella. My little star had been suffering for months, when all these people, selfish and shallow, offered only their condolences.

Halfway through the funeral, when my mother was offering her own perspective of my daughter's life, of her strength, I let my feet carry me away from the madhouse, and into the green woods, in search of a little peace. Away from the judgemental stares, away from the people who claimed to care.

She had no one in her hour of need. No one but me. And I failed her.

I am— I was her mother, her guardian, her role-model, her best friend, and I... of all the people in the world had failed her.

I wished hell to damn me for it.

Night had fallen when I discovered myself to be sitting on the rock she used to be found sitting on every time she sneaked out. The moon glinted off the dark water at my feet, more menacing for some reason than comforting.

I stared back at the woman looking at me from the water. Her eyes were hollow, lifeless.

Pain clenched its cold, stone hand around my heart as I remembered the last time I saw her. I saw my angel, lying on the white sheets of her bed, surrounded by bouquets of flowers that were incomparable to her beauty. My Stella looked so beautiful, just like she always had been, with her lively spirit and fiery quips. Yet, she had never been that quiet before.

I opened my eyes. My heart jumped to my throat. She was there. Wearing a white veil that concealed her face, she stared at me, her beautiful eyes screaming in agony.

"You had promised."

A promise that I couldn't keep.

When my little star gestured for me to follow her, with the promise of another chance, I didn't hesitate.

Criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

If you want more:

Idk about y'all, but every romance I write turns into a horror. I don't see a problem tho 🤷‍♀️

Gay enemies-to-lovers but they're petty as fuck so when one kills the other's prey, the other throws him out naked.

Wanting "naps" after every meal is why I don't complete my projects. I'm always fucking sleepy

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➺ Introduction :

This book isn’t really a book.

It’s more of a diary, a journal. In this I will simply put not only my opinion but my thoughts, precisely my train of thoughts.

Why you may ask. Simply because thinking is something I do a lot, maybe too much. I am what you may call an over-thinker. Even though most of the time I perceive it as some sort of curse for making me dwell on things too much, I sometimes find myself being impressed by how much one can think, by how one’s mind can go far and fast. So during one of my never ending insomnias I thought, why not write down those thoughts, those things you think or ask yourself about. It might actually help me write better and take away a bit of the burden that are those overwhelming thoughts, and maybe someone, like you dear reader, might relate to the things I write. Therefore I decided to give it a shot and simply put my mind into words, or at least I’ll try.

I don’t wish to speak too long in this introduction for fear of boring away some potential readers, not that I really care if actual people are going to read this or not, but I do have two more things to add.

First, I feel like I have to precise that I have not been an English speaker since birth. It’s a uselessly complicated way to say that I am still in the process of learning this language but I love it and I feel much more at ease writing in this universal language than my mother tongue. So my bad if I make some mistakes I try to proof read as much as I can usually but because I think in this journal I’ll just write as it comes I might make more mistakes that I might not see.

And finally, I simply wanted to address the meaning of the title. I always struggle to find titles for my books and novels, so most of the time I settle for something a bit abstract but still linked to the matter at hand.

Consequently, I decided to title this (whatever this is) ‘𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬’ because in French those flowers are named ‘Pensées’ which also means ‘thoughts’.

I originally thought of a word play with ‘forget me not’ and ‘forget me notes’ because I personally write a lot of what's on my mind in the notes app on my phone... Am I the only one to do that?... Anyway…

To conclude, as I said somewhere above, I don’t really care if nobody actually ends up reading this, I might even keep it to myself, but if you are really there my dear reader and it is not myself reading this page over and over again in order to find a reason to do something about this manuscript, I hope you will enjoy this, whatever this is, and if you don’t I hope at least I will enjoy it.

✿❀✿

🔺Original work, please do not steal or copy. Thanks.🔺

You will find here a list of all my projects/stories that I posted. -> edited each time I add chapters ;) 🔺All of my work is original, please do not steal or copy. If anything might seem plagiarized it is an unwanted coincidence, please notify me. Thanks :)🔺

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🍄 - 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮, 𝓟𝓸𝓹𝓹𝔂

My lovely persona <3

Meet the artist.

🪻- 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔

Introduction

Pansy n°1 = F*cking writer’s block.

Pansy n°2 = I love English.

Pansy n°3 = "I'm tired".

Pansy n°4 = A little catch up.

Pansy n°5 = Reality ? No thanks...

Pansy n°6 = Oneiric inspiration.

Pansy n°7 = My mind's safe space.

Pansy n°8 = Who are my / our Husbandos ?

Pansy n°9 = I'm "over"-everything.

☎️ - 𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓽𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮

❀ Pansy n°1 = F*cking writer’s block.

I really enjoy writing.

Like a lot.

I think it’s because I have a lot on my mind and I thrive to get it out of my head. Like I don’t want to lose the ideas I have so I try to write as much as I can somewhere, everywhere. I literally have a note on my phone titled ‘Story ideas’ , and up to this date (the time I’m writing this) I collected twelve ideas without counting this book, or whatever this is. I have some ideas that are way more developed than others and some that are just fun things I thought about, but I feel like I could do so much with each of them. And I want, I really want to use all those amazing ideas and make them into the novels they deserve to be, but sadly… It always ends the same.

You see, dear reader, there is some sort of pattern that seems to come back in my life as a wannabe writer. Most of the time it starts with me having a dream or a daydream about whatever came to my mind this day. Then I realize that I really like what I’m imagining, that it’s actually really interesting and maybe it could grow into something more. So I continue to think about it for days, weeks, months, sometimes years and I end up with a full on story of ten novels and even a sequel (I may exaggerate a bit, but only a bit). And here I am, attached to this universe I created, to these characters I watched growing up and all the important events of their adventures I want everyone to know about, and I’ll be heartbroken to just leave it at that. To just leave it as a simple fantasy, a dream, a figment of my subconscious. I cannot possibly let it be forgotten, because I’ll inevitably forget it if I do not act and do something to keep it somewhere, anywhere. So comes the time to write, to finally put into words this story, this scenario that was entirely made up by myself and my creative mind.

Yet, when I finally have the motivation to write something, anything, this so-called motivation never comes alone. It always comes with it. You might be confused as to who or what I’m talking about dear reader. Well, I am talking about this horrible realization that writing is difficult as f*ck.

In fact, I always end up being lost in all the details of my stories. I always end up realizing that I thought of things, but not everything, and that I have now to choose the right words, the right grammar, the right phrasing to accurately depict the world, the characters and the adventures I have created. And this dear reader is so very hard.

Then I also have to think about all that’s in between the big events of the story to tone down the dose of action in the script, to show the character development, to exploit the characters' relationships and make the readers like them as well as relate to them. At this point, writing seems like a chore, a big task that is too hard for me to actually be able to finish.

Admitting that I actually started something and didn’t give up just messily writing down notes on a random notebook, I never seem to end up writing things that I like. Writing becomes stress inducing because I constantly think about what I have to write down after this exact moment for it to make sense and how I have to make some details pop out but not too obvious for the reader to notice them but not understand their importance. All in all my thoughts, ideas and anxiety create this jumbled mess in my head and I am incapable of writing.

To this date I have three started and unfinished projects. One that I started when I was like 12 or 13 and actually finished (well at least the first book or season because it was written as a screenplay) after having started at least four or five different versions of it. But as time flew by I ended up hating what I wrote so I decided to start it all over again this time as a novel. Yet I didn’t get far because I started questioning the originality and interest of this story that was in fact kind of childish. It was very important to me because it was the first ever thing I wrote down and I loved it dearly, but I inevitably left it aside.

Then much later I started thinking of this thriller based on a nightmare I had. So with one of my sisters we wrote everything down about the plot, the characters, the universe, etc… I even started writing but I never went past the first chapter. I was just unable to. I wanted to, really, because it has a lot of potential and I wanted it done but I dreaded writing about it because I couldn’t come up with correct phrasing and ideas of filler chapters. I was also so far ahead in my mind, already thinking of what could happen in the second book of this saga. I’m always thinking too far, too fast. So I have a second draft lying around on my computer.

Finally, recently I decided that I wanted to truly finish a book, that I was going to do it, and in order to do just that I thought of a simple love story which could fit in a tiny and single book. Like that no thinking ahead and finishing with ideas for an infinite number of books. So I took notes of ideas as they came, created the characters and found their visuals, all of that in a very short amount of time and I loved doing it. I was thrilled! It felt good to be able to do things so fast and smoothly. Then I started writing, it went well, I was inspired and I liked how I wrote, but came chapter 7 and I stopped completely because I was once again starting to complicate the task at hand. I was either distracted or not inspired or just lazy. So I stopped and a third unfinished draft joined my computer.

Whenever I want I could go back to either of those drafts and continue them, because deep down I know I am capable of doing it, of writing but I can’t seem to do so. I am just stuck with overflowing ideas but the incapability of fully writing things down. It s*cks… And it makes me feel incapable.

So I just have one thing to say: f*ck writer’s block.

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🔺Original work, please do not steal or copy. Thanks.🔺

- notify me if there are typos ;)

✿❀✿

There was a long break between the time I wrote the first entry and this one. So I decided that after this opinion piece about writing in a foreign language I will probably in the near future publish a longer and more personal entry that I wrote in order to “catch up” on my mental health :)

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❀ Pansy n°2 = I love English.

It is true, I do love the English language.

In fact, today I am in my first year of college and I follow a course in English Literature and Civilisations. So basically I am studying this language in depth. It feels great as, when I started this journal, it was the only thing I was wishing for but it is a lot harder than I thought…

Anyway, it is definitely not what I want to write about.

What I want to speak of, to let my mind wander to, is how I find it easier to express myself, my thoughts, my mindset, my feelings in English rather than in my mother tongue. I find it so strange yet fascinating and a bit logical. Actually, I have been told (or I have read somewhere but can’t remember where) it is a fact that bilingual people describe their emotions and communicate in their learned language with more ease. I find it quite logical as we have learned precise words and ways to express peculiar and specific events, feelings,... We have a whole new and fresh vocabulary imprinted in our minds so it feels like we have more words to clearly express something. Moreover, it creates more distance between us and the problems or feelings we’re facing.

I personally relate to this a lot.

I think it might be enhanced by the fact that I read more in English as well. So in a way, my literary vocabulary is more extended in English. I consume a lot of English entertainment. Songs, books, movies, series, fanfictions…

My mind even works in English. I think, speak and dream in English. Weirdly, it just comes naturally.

When I write or read in my mother tongue things just feel cringe and wrong, like there’s always a better way to say those things. Sometimes I think of sayings and expressions in English which are perfect for what I am trying to say but, it has to be in my mother tongue and it either doesn’t have an equivalent or even if it has, I feel like it loses a bit of its meaning. It is truly complicated, especially when I talk with people and only English vocabulary comes to my mind. Moreover, as an aspiring writer and translator, I cannot and do not want to lose connection with my mother tongue. I have to practice it and feel more comfortable with it. And when I successfully write in my native language, I cannot express how proud I feel. It just is awesome to see that I am capable of writing beautiful and meaningful things in this language that I feel so uneasy with.

Yet, I feel that sometimes it is an enormous struggle to communicate with others when I can’t speak with them with some english words and expressions. Like I said, more than often I have english words which come to my mind and it is hard to find how to say it in my native language. The worst is, when I struggle and people tell me to just say as I think, they end up mocking me and saying things like “Oh excuse me ! Madame only speaks English !” It makes me feel awful as people clearly think I am trying to expose my good english. Like I am pompous, conceited, arrogant… And it is very much what I don’t want people to think of me. Even though I am, in fact, proud of the quality of my English - written and spoken - I don’t want people to see me as someone who thinks too highly of herself.

ANYWAY. I enjoy writing in english. I enjoy speaking in english. And I will not stop practicing this language.

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🔺Original work, please do not steal or copy. Thanks.🔺

- notify me if there are typos ;)

✿❀✿

This chapter tackles subjects that can be sensitive to some readers, please do not interact if you are uncomfortable.

⚠️ Warning : depiction of depressive behavior (depressive thoughts, suicidal thoughts,…).

Read at your own risk.

- Beaucoup d’amour, Poppy.

✿❀✿

❀ Pansy n°3 = “I’m tired.”

This quick, short, simple sentence is quite interesting. I like it as much as I hate it. It can be seen as meaningless whereas it is possibly quite meaningful.

“I’m tired.”

It is the most mundane way to express a physical state of fatigue. It is not too tiring to say it because of its shortness, and it is easily understandable. Everyone knows and understands what being tired is, right ? It is a state that everyone suffers from almost daily. Everyone knows this feeling in the morning, when it is difficult to get up because you’re still tired, you haven’t slept enough and your body is begging you to stay cuddled up in your warm bed sheets. The horrible pain that comes with having to pry your eyes open when they can’t help but stay closed. How helpless one can feel, as it is like fighting against your own body to finally get up, to finally wake up.

I also think that everyone knows the feeling of fatigue weighing down your eyes, as if you can physically feel your eyebags because your exhaustion is so present that it has started to weigh you down.

Personally, I know what I’m talking about, ‘cause I have quite the messed up sleep schedule (thanks to insomnia, never ending anxiety, and maybe a bit because of my excessive screen time… :/ ).

Living while being tired is very difficult. How can one be expected to work normally when their body isn’t at its maximum capacity. It’s normal to ask yourself this type of question, but sadly, because today’s society goes so fast, and everyone has to work their asses off to survive, you have no choice but to overview your own physical condition to go on. This type of difficult living is, today, what we can call “common-knowledge”. It bothers everyone but nothing can quite be done…

Yet, it can be even more difficult than being physically tired. In fact, it becomes worse when being physically exhausted is your everyday state. When it is like this constantly, you cannot help but also be emotionally tired. And that’s when the meaning of this simple sentence changes.

“I’m tired”, becomes a simplified way to express an emotional, moral and psychological state of fatigue. I would go even as far as saying, a state of depression.

In this specific case, I don’t think everyone knows how this feels. It is so particular, peculiar, distinct. This precise state can be depicted as a constant feeling of being numb. Emotions are tiring so you can end up not feeling them anymore, you literally seal them away to not waste the last small bits of your energy on them. On the other hand, you can end up feeling them as if they were multiplied, which tires you out even more. Both of those cases are terrible for your mental health. In this peculiar state of psychological exhaustion, thinking can become tiring, any little event or responsibility can be seen as a humongous activity which will inevitably steal away all your energy. My point of view and explanation of this physical, psychological and emotional state can be biased by the fact that I am quite subject to anxiety. So, I may give away a more “exaggerated” version of it (I am also hypersensitive, so everything feels multiplied).

I, personally, feel exhausted by these constant overwhelming thoughts, responsibilities, changements and the inevitable passing of time which gives me less time to process and get through all those things which overwhelm me.

As I grew up, this simple sentence totally changed its significance for me. It is as if it lost all of its raw meaning. I feel a bit guilty of this… Let me explain.

When I was younger, everyone knew me for being a heavy sleeper. I mean, it happened more often than not that I slept in until 2pm. I just needed a lot of sleep, and also felt inevitably safe in my bed that on so many mornings I was just too lazy to get up and get breakfast. But as time went by, it was revealed that I indeed slept late, but that was because I fell asleep late (mostly because of hyperfixations, screens, sometimes books, fanfictions or, of course, overthinking). So even if I slept a lot, in the eyes of my family, I kept on complaining that I was tired, obviously. But what was not so obvious, was the fact that I slowly started to use this excuse of “I’m tired” to express a lot of other things.

In fact, I started answering to every worried plea towards me by, “Don’t worry, I’m just tired.” Even though that was not the only reason… When I was feeling down, I said “I’m tired.” When I was down right sad, I said “I’m tired.” When I was annoyed, I said “I’m tired.” Et caetera…

I just thought that it was easier that way. I did not have to bother and try to explain what happened in my mind to people I was sure did not care and couldn’t help me. Plus, I just didn’t know what truly made me feel so down, so tired. It was also easier for me to reduce all of those conflictive feelings to just tiredness. And it was not entirely false. I, indeed, feel exhausted.

I am tired of being tired. Tired of working, of talking, of moving, of socializing, of thinking, of pushing through, of going forward, of making efforts, and more often than not… tired of living.

Everything just feels like a humongous burden. Every little thing weighs me down like it’s a matter of life and death. I can’t help but overthink everything, anything. I always analyze things too much, I always think too far ahead, I’m a pessimist… And I’m just tired of it all.

Everything feels helpless when you can’t help but just be tired.

It makes living an exhausting, never ending effort. The worst is that most of the time this fatigue passes off as laziness. People just criticize you because you’re “lazy”, when in fact you’re just internally exhausted. And I hate it. So many people just don’t understand this state of mind. Because it is one. As I said before, it becomes a real state of physical, psychological, emotional and moral exhaustion. And it is overlooked more often than not.

It is a real state of distress.

I have no solution to this because I am very clearly suffering from it. But I simply want people to know that they're not alone. I am sure we are thousands out there feeling helpless. I know so because mental health has become a much more talked about subject these past years, especially on social media. Still, I don’t think it is enough.

The mental distress of teenagers is particularly overlooked. I personally think it is because the adult/parent generation of today is made of people whose feelings and mental health have been overlooked during their entire growing process. How many times have we heard from our parents or grandparents “At your age I had to deal with things on my own” or stuff like that. And we know that in the past, mental health was clearly not cared for or seen as important and impacting on people’s lives. So how can they teach us that mental state and emotions matter when they haven’t been educated like that. I think it can be qualified as “generational trauma”.

Anyway, I might have gone too far into thinking again. I feel like I am stating so many obvious things but I like getting it out of my system. I really enjoy writing those pensées… It helps me be a little less confused about my feelings and honestly…

It makes me feel a little less tired.

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🔺Original work please do not steal or copy, Thanks.🔺

✿❀✿

This chapter tackles subjects that can be sensitive to some readers, please do not interact if you are uncomfortable. And it's about my personnal life, though I feel comfortable sharing those facts. Of course, don't read if you're not interested :)

⚠️ Warnings : depiction of mental health (depressive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, self harm, self hate,…).

Read at your own risk. - Beaucoup d’amour, Poppy.

✿❀✿

❀ Pansy n°4 = A little catch-up.

*sigh* So ! There’s a lot to say…

I didn’t plan to make this book, or whatever this is, so personal but I feel like this could do me some good and that it could actually be interesting to share a bit more of my struggles.

I mean, I think this book makes it pretty clear - especially with what I write and think of writing in it - but I suffer from chronic anxiety, ‘masked’ depression and a bit of ADHD. First and foremost, ‘masked’ depression is a bad translation from my native language but basically it means that I try - or at least tried - to hide it from others, to keep up appearances. Which is… Way too true. But anyways.

To start from the beginning, it has been more than a year since I got “diagnosed” with chronic anxiety by my first therapist. He told me it was most likely hereditary - which is true, I got f*cking anxious parents especially my dad. I started therapy in January 2022, after years of mental distress. I always remember being anxious, sleeping badly and feeling lonely as well as inexistant, useless, transparent. It is like, most of what I remember from my teenage years (and I have massive blackouts from my childhood somehow :/). I am constantly struggling with my feelings, thoughts and place in life. It is as if my entire life revolves around internal conflict. I was - and still am a bit - used to dealing with all of it on my own, because I am convinced that you can count on nobody but yourself, but mostly that I shouldn’t burden people with it especially when they won’t care anyway.

Adding to that, the fact that I am the youngest of three siblings, I grew up thinking that I was too much in my family. Like my parents had already too much to deal with and just hadn’t the capacity to fully care for me. Moreover, on my dad’s side of the family I was also the younger cousin. So when my cousins and siblings became teenagers and young adults, I was very clearly put aside. The worst was that everyone was aware of it. I mean they literally gently threw me out of each room they were in when they wanted to talk about more “adult themed” subjects, always promising to call me back when they were done which obviously never happened. At the time, I complained to my parents and relatives about it, saying that I was tired of being rejected and just wanted to spend time with my cousins. But everyone just told me to wait it out, that it was normal as I was younger but with time it’ll change and it ended with people not even caring anymore if I was saddened about the situation. From this experience I think I just came to the conclusion that older people would always look at me as a less valuable being just because I was younger than them and theoretically couldn’t understand their “grown up and experienced” mind. As well as the fact that nobody - not even my family - cares about my feelings even if I communicate them.

I think that is when my difficulty communicating started to grow. I totally closed off from everyone, trapping myself in a never ending feeling of loneliness, even sometimes feeling like I am a spectator to my own life.

So I grew resentful towards my family, always wishing to stray away from them, to flee the country and build a new and better life. Away from everything. Then, I started thinking - very firmly - that without me, things would stay exactly the same. My family wouldn’t be impacted at all as I was only an unwanted nuisance that took too much care and money. I did not feel important, nor truly loved. I felt I just couldn’t be loved as I wasn’t interesting and had nothing for myself to make people appreciate me, just because I craved for attention I was not given by my family. 

Furthermore, when I had just started middle school, I found out I had scoliosis. And a pretty bad one at that. After three months of observation, my spine ended up forming a perfect S shape. It was so bad that I had to wear a medical corset, in order to keep my back in check. That is how I ended up wearing a plastic made medical corset 23 hours a day every day. All of that, just a few weeks before my 12th birthday… Yes, it was an amazing gift :).

So, I found myself being sort of disabled. Wearing something totally new to every single one of my classmates and even my school’s administration. Find a way to feel more left out and alienated. Yet, I was not truly bullied for it. People were kind and curious, often offering me to carry my bag or things like that. Still, I was faced with the fact that a majority of people just wouldn’t understand how hard it could be on someone’s body and mind. People just thought of aesthetic corsets when I had to explain what I had, and didn’t understand why I made the choice to wear one as well as why it handicapped me. 

In fact, it was truly a burden. It was not only painful, it was also truly incapacitating. I couldn’t bend down, I couldn’t sit without having my thighs being compressed and cut by the plastic, I couldn’t breathe or eat properly. At first I couldn’t even go to the bathroom with it. Plus, you are taught to get it on while laying down so I had authorized access to the nurse office - even when she wasn’t there - to take it off and pee. Only once was I refused the access to it, and my mom was so mad she made sure to call the school and report how it was unacceptable as I literally had a PCP (Personalized Care Project) which granted me special rights like access to the nurse office or even prioritized access to the cafeteria to not risk me being pushed and falling in the middle of a crowd. I actually got crushed by someone once. I was kneeling near my locker and someone fell on me. My breath cut short and I had trouble recovering. I only remember one of my friends opening my corset but nothing after that… Weird. But knowing how much I forget traumatic events I’m not even surprised :). 

Aside from that, the corset also took away my dream career of becoming a ballerina. It was a harsh reality check for a 12 year-old who already had a lot going on. So to sum it up, the corset physically blocked me, woke up unbearable back pains, made me feel even more abnormal, broke my dreams, ruined my birthday and made my nights even worse. Nice.

And it is only the beginning.

At the same time I also had a really sh*tty friend group. You know this type of friend circle in which everyone swears they’re best friends but spit on each others’ back? Well it was exactly like that. Adding the fact that they truly enjoyed putting only some people aside. I only have one friend from this group to which I still talk to this day. She is the only one who was honest with me, cared and liked me. And she changed schools during our second year, so she clearly got away from all the drama. But we kept contact and we are still really close.

Yet, I lost my best friend of 7 years to this group. She preferred to stay with them even if they were making fun of her behind her back, while I decided to leave and find other friends. Still, I was fairly traumatized by this friendship as one of the girls very clearly confessed in secret that she thought I was nonexistent, invisible and that without me things would be the same… So yeah, trusting people after that was especially hard.

Man, teenage years s*ck…

Eventually I found new friends with whom I felt a bit more like myself - whoever I was at that age. I got closer to this one girl I met at the very beginning of middle school and who is, today, still my beautiful and amazing best friend <3. That year I remember not having so many dark thoughts, but they became a bit too normal. Now that I had new people around me and felt I could express myself, it became really hard for me to repress my feelings. I was so used to bottling everything up, put on a straight face and feeling numb that once I felt a bit more at ease, it was impossible for me to go back.

I felt better with my friends and started questioning myself. Who I was. Who I wanted to become. Who I liked… I was around 14 years-old when I came out to my friends as Bisexual. I had this huge crush on one of my friends and even if I got - kindly - rejected, I knew where I stood. Everyone accepted me, I wasn’t judged by any of them. My siblings didn’t know yet at the time - as we didn’t share the close bond we have today. And my parents still don’t know to this day…

Nevertheless, this new discovery about myself made me question my attraction towards this one female friend of my friend group (just to bring precision, I didn’t and still don’t really hang out with boys much. Idk why lol). And this questioning ended up with me being in my first ever serious relationship, and it was with a girl behind my parents back.

I won’t go into details about this relationship or how catastrophic my middle sister’s first reaction was. But even if I should have known by now, things didn’t go according to plan… LOL.

I started this relationship thinking I had nothing to lose but in the end I lost my sanity and will to live, is that okay with you ? No but seriously, this girl ruined my life. She was what we call a ‘narcissistic pervert’. Literally made me lose any closeness I had to other people, wanting me to care only about her - even at my own expense. She constantly wanted to make me jealous with weird fantasies she had with her former crushes, making me feel like I clearly wasn’t the only one on her mind or even a tiny bit special. Once she even told me that before we got together she also had a crush on another girl, and that if we didn’t start something she might’ve not chosen me… B*tch. She even made me feel guilty for any little thing I could do or say when I tried to communicate - yes, it is called guilt tripping :). She was weirdly sexist, like she took on the ‘stereotypical role of the man’ in the relationship and wanted to be the one to lead the relationship in everything, even when it was uncalled for. She didn’t value my feelings, many times gaslighting me. Towards the end of our relationship, she often made me feel forced to engage in foreplay and sexual acts…

I know that, in a way, it was also my responsibility as I didn’t communicate much, always putting her first but I also felt like I couldn’t because whatever I said or did she put herself in the victim position while I was made the culprit. You know, she even got mad at me once because I fell asleep texting her - I took plant based pills, and they worked really well at the time. And she was aware of how much I struggled sleeping! Everything just had to revolve around her, all the time. It was clearly a one way relationship.

For other anecdotes - because I ended up going into details… :/. Even when I broke up with her, she couldn’t help but guilt trip me. She was literally telling me how cruel I was not to think about the situation she found herself in when I asked her for a break. (Yes, I needed a break first to see if I was better alone and to prepare myself to break up with someone… Oopsies.) Because of our relationship, I lost a friend who sided with her and it completely broke our friend group as no one wanted to hang out with the two of us when we were together. Yes we were f*cking cringe middle schoolers… Yikes.

One of the worst memories I have, concerning her lack of real care for me, was when I harmed myself… I was wallowing in self pity, hating myself and my life when everything was supposed to be better. I was dying with anxiety as important exams were coming up and as usual my feelings were minimized at home, and in my relationship. Even if it was the year I grew closer to my sisters, our relationships were still rocky - especially with my middle sister. I felt like all of my problems were meaningless, and I was the problem, the one to blame. So for an entire week I harmed myself. It was the simplest way I found to prove myself I had a reason to hurt. What better way to prove you’re in pain than having physical wounds ? That was my reasoning. It was also a clear cry for help as I did nothing to hide it. I constantly thought “the bigger it is, people would see it less.” And it always proved to be true.

One evening, I was having dinner with my two sisters and my mom. Simply wearing a tank top, my scarred wrists in plain sight. When my mom asked me what happened to them. I lied, saying that I simply scratched myself too hard with my long nails. And it was never tackled again. My sisters never caught up with it, my mom never asked more. It just went unseen. But, as I said earlier, my ex did even better. I literally showed her and after arguing a bit I just told her it was my way to cope and she answered “if it helps you, I’ll learn to live with it.” What a caring significant other am I right ?

Then after a week of only being able to think about doing it. I stopped because two of my friends found out and made me promise to never start again. But to be honest, I think I never really stopped. I learned that chewing the insides of your mouth (like really aggressively) is also a way to self-harm. I also used to scratch myself really hard when I felt mad at myself. And I happened to try and use a blade once more a few times, but felt extremely pathetic afterwards. I have been quite clean since then, especially since I don’t deny my own feelings and let myself have breakdowns lol.

During highschool I slowly started healing from this amazing relationship. Sadly, my anxiety grew because of school and just as I thought things could still go better… Boom. World wide pandemic. We had to stay focused on school while being stuck at home. It was really hard on me especially because my dad had to work from home while my mom - who takes care of kids at home - didn’t stop working. The cohabitation was less than pleasant. Anyway, I don’t have anything interesting to say about the period, just that it helped me go down the rabbit hole even faster :). A pleasure.

For my last year of highschool, teachers and adults expected us to go back to normal and be perfect students as if Covid never happened. They expected us to be okay. And it was just not possible. My anxiety went haywire as we had really important final exams at the end of the year that I couldn’t fail. All my friends were feeling down, I was feeling suicidal and just wanted to end the pain. I also lost my great-grandmother and a month later - literally two days before Christmas - my dog also passed away. It was a very difficult time for my family. Then came January and I felt more than ever like dying.

Each passing day I was only feeling like life was just a burden. Why did I have to suffer so much just from living ? I had to take the train every day, always thinking of just jumping on the rails. I had to fake a smile every day, to try and forget. To take care of my own friends who were too feeling horrible. I was just so tired…

Then my savior came. One of my close friends went to express their worries about me to one teacher with whom I was very close. She was a PE teacher and my dance option teacher for two years already. One day she asked me to talk after a class and as I exceptionally had finished class early I accepted.

It was the most intense and emotional discussion I ever had.

We both cried - a lot - I confessed everything. I was honest and she brought so much help. Thanks to her my parents became aware of the situation and I got help. She made my mom call a therapist she had heard only good things about and talked to me about what I could do and take to sleep better. I missed her class to go to my first ever therapy session and she often checked up on me. I could never thank her enough for everything. 

She saved my life. Literally.

This therapist was special but not bad. He talked a lot and I didn’t always feel heard, but he diagnosed me with chronic anxiety and slight ADHD. Therapy didn’t really help for my inner conflicts but I started to manage my stress a bit better. I passed my exams with less stress and excelled. But I still felt like it wasn’t a good match so I stopped seeing him. I let summer pass, trying to get my mind off of things. Went on vacation with my bestfriend and just tried to feel better.

Things went okay, but I was still bothered by anxiety as I was to start university. And it didn’t miss. Uni is a literal hell. Like what the f*ck ?? Why does it have to be so hard and stress inducing ? September was my way to hell…

I found a new therapist not far from my house. Since then I haven’t changed. My therapist is just amazing. I feel so much at ease with her, I have real conversations and I can freely express myself. I truly feel like it is helping me. Still, it was not enough for me to feel at least a little better on a daily basis so I started taking anxiolytics. It helped a bit but after a month it was clear that I had to take stronger medicine if I wanted to go through it day by day. So after being diagnosed with depression by a first psychiatrist I got prescribed antidepressant and sleeping pills. It was really hard at first as I had a LOT of side effects.

It did not help me sleep at all. The first night I literally did not sleep and had a mental breakdown just as I got up. I got really shaky and I was constantly nauseous. I missed some classes to rest at home but I couldn’t allow myself to miss more. I went on and even if we add to rise the dosage of my medicine I am feeling a bit better today.

I am still on my way towards healing but I think I am on the right path. I am surrounded by amazing people. My sisters and I are closer than ever, best trio ever <3 And I even grew closer to my mom. I express myself way more and try to be positive. It is not easy everyday but I start to finally believe that it might not be that impossible to heal. Right now school is almost finished for me and I never felt better. I am working on myself, trying to improve the person I am in order to become the person I want to be. I take good care of myself, try to change my mind and go out more. I do things I want and do not force myself if I don’t feel like it. 

I feel like I am in my healing era. B*tch I’m gonna glow up ;)

Anyway, if you ever went through difficult things I cannot tell you how important it is to surround yourself with good people and get help. It is really hard to ask for yourself, so if you see friends struggling do not hesitate to get them help. Believe me when I say I know how hard it is to accept the fact that things aren’t going well and that you have to do something about it. It is not going to be easy, it asks for a lot of effort but you are not alone. We can get through this. And… I think it is going to be worth it.

It’s going to be 5 months since I started being medicated, and 7 months since I restarted therapy. Things are looking good right now. I know I might still face some hard times but I am going to continue trying to feel better. I promise, if you promise to try too, dear reader. <3

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🔺Original work please do not steal or copy, Thanks.🔺

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This chapter tackles subjects that can be sensitive to some readers, please do not interact if you are uncomfortable.

⚠️ Warning : depiction of depressive behavior and obsessive thoughts.

Read at your own risk. - Beaucoup d’amour, Poppy.

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❀ Pansy n°5 = Reality ? No, thanks…

When life feels too bland, one’s mind can do wonders to escape it.

It may seem unreal or fake to some people, but for some minds the easiest way to cope with a negative or stressful emotional state is to dive into one’s subconscious and imagination. The reason why is pretty simple. You are free to control everything and everyone in your own head. You are able to picture and make up every landscape, every environment with anyone you would want to be with.

You are free to give yourself a dream life while escaping the difficult truth of reality.

This “ability” can be considered a skill available to anyone willing to expand and develop their imagination. Personally, I have always considered myself to be quite creative and full of imagination, so being able to increase my capability of imagining things has been awfully thrilling through the years. My mind has always been triggered by music. Easily imagining or making up epic battles on action like songs, dance routines on classical music or simply fake scenarios on chill lofi beats. 

I have so many different fake lives, it’s concerning… :/

But it is such a cathartic experience to insert yourself in your favorite universes, with your favorite characters. What’s even better is when you are so into your mind that you can feel things. With time, it happens to me more and more.

Sometimes the smell of freshly baked bread, but mostly the feeling of a warm embrace or lips softly brushing against one another…

That might be why I often have lucid dreams or why I believe in shifting. But those are pansies for another time.

Nevertheless, this dream-like ability can become dangerous to a certain extent. In fact, when the fake scenarios become an obsession, when day-dreaming becomes a daily occurrence, all in all, when all of it becomes too important… Then it becomes a problem. Then it is unhealthy.

Why does this amazing experience have to be so toxic ?

It is a way to cope, to feel good, to relieve stress - for once without the use of anything illegal 👀- but sadly it also disinterests you from reality. Some people can end up resenting even more their real life.

Come to think of it, that’s how addictions work, no ?

I am no one to tell you what to do if you relate to what I’m writing, neither am I judging anyone. Too often do I feel detached from reality because of my will to live in fantasies. It is something I want to work on - most of my pansies are about myself, my thoughts and based on my will to evolve.

So once again, I am no one to judge.

I am someone so obsessed with daydreaming that, when I am feeling down, it literally plagues my days. I only think about when I’ll have alone time to listen to music and continue the scenario where I left off. Or when I’ll be able to read self-insert fanfictions to drown even more in this shameful obsession of the unreal.

All of it fueled by the fear of reality and the tiredness of living.

Too often do I think I would like to eternally dream.

And that’s because I am conscious it has become this unhealthy obsession that I want to work on. I know that on the one hand, I like to make up scenarios because I would like to experience other environments/universes with other people. But on the other hand, I realized it is also because I can be whoever I want to be.

So lately - being in a good mindset - I am on a quest to better myself, to let myself discover who I am, who I want to be and most importantly to let myself take time to heal.

I know this won't be easy, that I won’t drastically stop to escape reality. But now I also know that to make this creative ability healthy, I have to try and find or even make a dream out of reality.

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🔺Original work please do not steal or copy, Thanks.🔺