KITE STRINGS

FANDOMINATION :3

2009-12-12T13:26:27Z

Make a fandom pyramid out of icons (limited to two icons per fandom):

What fandom was your first fanfiction for?
*whispers* er, Inuyasha. I WAS YOUNG! AND CRAP! And my fanfiction.net pen name was (cringe) InuyashasEars. It was possibly the worst thing that I have ever written, ever. Thank God I've improved since then.

And when did you succumb to slash?
Ah, my third fic. For some odd reason, I just started shipping SasuNaru. They even kiss (accidentally...suuuuure *cough*) in the third episode of the anime! And they are like, equally angsty, which is good because I love balanced relationships with abusive childhoods. It's a hooge fandom, though! I met gorgeous writers there, like Nozomi-sama (emberflie) & many others,,,

I have been quite fickle with my fandoms ever since Naruto, heh.

Name your fandoms and their respective OTPS. Is there anything in common with your favourite pairings?
Naruto - Sasuke/Naruto
Death Note - Mello/Matt (this used to be Light/L, heh)
D. N. Angel - Dark/Daisuke (so what if they're technically the same person?!)
Gaia Online - Liam/Ian (eheheh...ehe..>.<)
Young Dracula - Robin/Vlad
The Sarah Jane Adventures - Clyde/Luke
Merlin - Arthur/Merlin (the current series is just ruining everything lol)
Sherlock Holmes - Holmes/Watson

As you can see, I started off watching anime and adoring all the pwetty bishounen! But lately, thanks to an abundance of boredom, I started looking into TV programmes, like, with real actors! You might notice that I go for pairings with characters that are OMG! BEST FRIENDS, with the exceptions of the good doctor and detective and er, Liam and Ian (but they're both shop keepers! And Ian has a cat!). I have this annoying habit of pairing everyone up in the 'verse to go with my favourite pairing, oh and everyone's gay. Can't forget the gay.

It's actually adorable how the BBC cannot produce anything without any homosexual undertones~

If you were marooned on a desert island and you could only take three fandoms with you, which would they be?
Don't make me choose T_T! I'll be sneaky and pretend you said three plus one. Fu fu fu.
1) Naruto
2) Death Note
3) Young Dracula
4) The Sarah Jane Adventures

Which fandom have you written the most fanfiction for?
Hands down...Naruto. Admittedly, I have deleted most of it, so on my ffdotnet profile there's mostly Death Note stuff at the moment.

Which is your guilty pleasure?
Ehh...probably Merlin. Because they're trying so hard to make Arthur and Merlin straight but in the first series all the dragon could say was stuff like 'You complete each other' and 'Your destinies are entwined'.

VIETNAM OM NOM

2009-12-01T20:12:12Z

I got onto the True Adventure trip 2011 to go to Vietnam last month! I'll get my starter pack in January...and I'm really excited. It was a draw, and I was picked out anonymously from a hat. Many of the reserves are now going on the trip as well, due to the large number of people who dropped out in the following couple of weeks after our teacher gave the applicants a talk on the negatives of our stay: we'll be in tents, peeing in holes we've dug, we won't eat meat (yay vegetarianism) much and picky eaters are pretty much doomed, not being able to wash our hair, etc.

I'm going to be fund-raising for 21 months now in instalments of £120 on the first day of every month + ~~£200 deposit~~ + £900 at the end. We've already had the first payment and I haven't raised any money yet, so I have a looooong way to go.

It'll be like a more achievable NaNoWriMo over a much longer period of time, but if all goes well, I'll have 70 UCAS points (part of the university application stuffs, for those of my friends who don't really know anything about the English educational system - that's you, Lana-love) and an amazing experience to tell other people and base personal statements on, XD. Oh, I can't wait! I'm gonna have to do a shit load of cake sales to make up for everything, and also put out adverts for dog walking and stuff.

I'll post with my progress, and hopefully I'll have lots of photos to show everyone in two years time~!

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SIDE NOTE: interform dance tomorrow! woo! we've been practising hard after school so hopefully I'm not gonna muck it up too badly. Lucy (er, none of you will know who this is, lawl) choreographed everything and we're doing it to a mix of Boom Boom Pow, Barbie Girl and Technologik!

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YET ANOTHER SIDE NOTE: for those of you who haven't, I completed a small fiction story and I'll worship anyone who dares read it...

FLASH THE LIGHTS, SOUND THE KLAXONS

2009-11-28T14:20:47Z

I haven't posted in here for a while!
But: I won NaNoWriMo!
I'm incredibly proud, because last year I sorta gave up on it and vowed my second attempt would be more successful. It took one gruelling 20k weekend to catch up on the first week and a half of laziness and after that I knew I could do it~! I had to do a few catch ups in the course of November, but the "novel" I wrote was such complete and utter shite that it's never going to see the light of my monitor again. I think I shall send it to my recycle bin.

Maybe next year my target should be to write something readable...!

006 GOD SAVE THE DREAM

2009-11-01T14:46:31Z

{ title: Pandora's Box
{ drabble: god save the dream
{ genre: general
{ rating: t
{ summary: Try and catch me if you can, I'll conquer the world with a kiss from my gun.

005 GRAPEFRUIT

2009-11-01T14:44:41Z

{ title: Pandora's Box
{ drabble: grapefruit
{ genre: general
{ rating: k+
{ summary: Try and catch me if you can, I'll conquer the world with a kiss from my gun.

WANTED: LOVE D:

2009-10-21T20:10:08Z

I entered a competition today, to go to Copenhagen and the Climate Change summit. I probably won't win, or even close, my entry wasn't very good and I sent it off before I could change my mind. I, I just wanted some attention...maybe for my parents to be proud of me, for trying.

I tried to talk to my dad about it, but he didn't even let me get four words into my sentence before talking about how I left my keys at school and how disappointed he was in me. My mum was at my sister's parent's evening, and then when my mum and my sister got home, and that was all they could talk about.

So stupid and whiny this sounds, but I wish someone would care. Someone who was in my timezone, who could put an arm around me and just listen. Some understanding; and I can't get that from my friends.

I want help.

PUT A TEACOSY OVER MY HEART

2009-10-04T11:59:14Z

Drip Drip Drop

‘Fold your wings; you’ll need them more, one day.’

It’s About Time – Barcelona

Time compounds.

And then it walks from you like a slow November afternoon; away with butterfly wings and the thought of a tree falling with no one to hear it. Time compounds; raspberry rippling like a thousand paper cranes, perfect and secret – dropped into the ocean.

It’s always struck me as rather sad, really.

In my dreams, the reception’s chandelier seemed to be glass stars above us; fragmented hopes and dim grey bulbs. I wanted little: stupid childish things; just to be with him, to twirl through life the same as before, running after pocket-watched white rabbits under our patch-worked skies.

Time, squirming and squiggling through nonexistent fingers like hourglass sand, past and future and present slipping together: and I wanted more.

On those gloomy days, my heart would soar.

Numb breath would swirl and dissipate with each wordless step, a cloud’s worth of water settling on my skin. He’d hold me tightly –so tightly– as the rain fell, puddles splish-splashing beneath us.

Like teardrops, I’d think, later; forlorn and abandoned in the reception. It would be an awkward silence I’d be trapped inside; I wasn’t much for conversation and the doorman was stiff beneath his uniform, with starch-seeped skin. The air was moist inside, perfume of wet dog and the sun looked as if it were hanging on a string through the window.

But tucked neatly under his arm, warm on the way home, I’d be safe.

And everything would be forgotten.

The sound, the thought of her; shiny new and wedged side by side with him like a two-part puzzle fitting neatly together. I hated her. Her: the symbol, the Rebecca, the manifestation of everything I was not and wished for. She became sinking, stinking, rotten things: worming their holes inside me, infected…infested, wallowing in blood and pus and spit.

At first, there’s shock, still and simple and disbelieving. Then, I was afraid.

Being alone, squatting next to the useless things, the broken things. It was still and suffocating, with scarcely any space to be and yet I didn't have anywhere else to go or know of anyone else to go to.

Forgive me, I thought, huddled by the Barbie with a missing arm, wondering what I had done wrong. I wished for him alone, and I couldn’t survive without him. Wrong; I must have been, to drive him away.

I was afraid of this vacuum of timelessness, of the nothing that dust seemed to settle on and consume. And I was angry, so much so, because why should she have my place while I was rotting in this vile dungeon for unwanted things. For everything here was unwanted. With crushed rainbows and shattered hearts enclosed in clenched thoughts; all I could dwell upon was the past and its fruitlessness and how I should known, all along.

But why? was all I could cry and think and cuss; living the question. Why? What did I do, how can I make this right?

And I loved him.

In a stupid, childish love, I festered, loving him all the while, collapsed by the broken things.

I could not move on or forwards. Why? I was ashamed.

I held fragile hope close to me, wide-eyed and innocent; he could return, he would return.

Time compounds.

And it laughs, at you, because it can—looking strangely from the outside with the benefit of hindsight. A vestige of the simpler past; words carved crudely into a tree and docile ribbons tied into plaited hair, leaving you wondering. Time moves on with or without you; in units of names, faces and places.

It won’t change for me.

I met Ian in the charity shop.

It was one of those funny days – where the sky is a beautiful, blinding silver white and the air is coat-wearingly cold.

He was leaning over the used DVDs, fingering the battered, overly loved covers and reading the blurbs. He looked like a breeze; sweet-smelling and swept, with messy bed head hair and jeans frayed at the hem. And like a breeze, he whisked me away, with a tingle of loose change and a crunch of autumn leaves under mismatched smiling sock feet. It softened the crude ache of my heart.

I was inspired, maybe, with this ink-stained hand to clutch onto and the sun to shine again. Dried paint in his hair and on his purple Converse high tops and the silliest expression smeared on his face that suggested he was liable to do something, preferably stupid, at any minute.

We were happy with perpetual tarpaulin rain hanging over us, waltzing in our bad weather like a good mood—one, two, three and one, two.

Until I saw him again; his eyes like empty rooms, staring through my steel ribs and out the other side, dark and lovely holes in his face.

I continued with one less smile and the comforting stench of Ian’s hazelnut latte warming his other hand.

I’m going to figure out life in the morning.

The great, big jumble of everything will arrange itself into prim disorder; a single-filed, bullet-pointed mass lined end to end, as long as the world thrice over.

· Inner Musings of an Umbrella #1: Why does it always rain on me?

APOSTROPHES SAVE LIVES

2009-09-24T18:37:41Z

Something I've been seeing frequently as of late, appears to be the lesser-spotted jogger -- indigenous to the gym. Hm. But what has caused them to spill onto the pavements in vast quantities of iPods and tracksuit bottoms? Is there some nationwide, free 'keep fit' scheme going on that I haven't been included in?

I watched six or so of them float past me this evening as I was walking back from my piano teacher's house; armed in the Armani of health freaks. Designer trainers advertised by gold medal-winning Olympians and the like, thumping past with a huff of steamed breath, and I still have no reasonable cause to match the effect. It's quite upsetting? annoying? disheartening? to watch them, however, gazing mistrustfully at the ongoing cars, as if they're lying with their indicators.

They have the sort of Naruto-ish, nylon-coated determination, 'ttebayo!! that makes me want to vomit kittens.

Ah well, exercise is another thing to feel guilty about.

I'LL HOLD YOU VERY GENTLY IN THIS BEAK OF MINE

2009-09-20T20:47:30Z

invitation to a small, stupid field mouse

come in, he whispered,
the night is my home and you are welcome to it
your tea brown coat will fit nicely on my hat stand;
there’s always room for one more.
i’ll entrance you with my mirror eyes,
and you might glimpse something unpleasant.

explain in terms of relative strength
barbed bullets slicing and the sound of a silenced gun
vacant in the numb nocturnal air:

…

are we sitting comfortably?
i like my meat quite rare.

BLUSH AWAY, MY DARLING

2009-09-18T23:29:01Z

He has a ridiculous urge to run outside and dance in the rain. It drums against the windows like falling conkers and he can see himself there, feeling numb and new, swinging off lampposts in trousers wet to the knee. A one-man tango, among mirror puddles and windscreen wipers, he’d be whole, he’s sure.
“Hello?” Naruto’s head snaps up, broken thoughts shifting. The customer taps his fingers on the counter, they’re long and pretty—piano-playing fingers—no dirt beneath the nails. The blond snatches one last look at that cloud-dulled sky, imagines socks squelching in lace-up shoes, and becomes himself.

“Yes?” He replies, uninspired. The suit has a newspaper tucked under his arm and glinting cufflinks on his shirt. Dark, soulless eyes. A funeral waiting to happen.

There’s a pause; awkward tendrils reaching between them. “Black coffee, no sugar.”

The money’s in his hand before Naruto can ring up the amount on the till.

Which is why, the next morning, he’s surprised to see him again, hair drowned and dripping. A wistful expression. “Sasuke,” the stranger confesses—as if he’s sinned—and takes the cardboard cup without a word more. No expensive watch, no black umbrella. Naruto stares after his back and doesn’t quite know what to think about it. He wipes down the plastic wood-effect tables hours later, still wondering about bitter beverages and a pavement quickstep.

He might be made of glass, he’s so cold, as their palms brush briefly on the third day, and Naruto has an irrational fear of shattering him by the seventh. It seems stupidly easy, though, to take that delicate wrist in one hand and splinter the bone, cracks spider-webbing their way beneath a pinstriped sleeve.

There’s a smile for Sasuke, now, that comes with the coffee. Unreciprocated.

He leaves a book, Wednesday. Naruto watches him curiously as he serves a teenaged girl (grande soy vanilla chai), perched on a cushioned chair, peeling a satsuma into one dimpled swirl. The barrista takes it home with him, the paperback, even though he’s probably not supposed to. The Kite Runner. By the orange light of a small bedside lamp, he reads, duvet huddled around his waist, learning page by page about gut-wrenching shame. It’s some obscure midnight hour when he finishes, and his sleep is riddled with sadness.

At eight am, sliding it back over the counter, he says simply “The rape was a bit shitty,” and Sasuke laughs, covering his mouth with his hand in obscure Asian modesty. Naruto likes the sound. There’s a promise of another; and the lingering something-or-other in Sasuke’s eyes has yet to be identified. Like an oil-slick rainbow, shining silver flecks around the pupils. He has the longest eyelashes Naruto has ever seen.

They kiss over the cover of A Thousand Splendid Suns, and the blond’s heart aches. It took them both by surprise, when he leans over, hindered by the table, mouths pressed together for a few sweet seconds. Sasuke blinks—once, twice—knocking the menu askew and then their tongues tangle.

Weeks skip by without a beat; water trickles down the double glazing of Sasuke’s living room. It’s fastidiously tidy and monochrome minimalist; Naruto feels out of place amongst the glass and stainless steel. He shifts nervously on the leather sofa while Sasuke makes tea. There’s a tray and a teapot, and he doesn’t belong.

The liquid burns as he gulps it down and there’s an uncouth clatter as he sets the china teacup on the saucer, standing to leave, goodbye. The one-way eyes widen, a hand clutches at his shoulder.

“Don’t go,” is whispered into his neck, a command. His T-shirt is pulled over his head and his jeans are pooled at his ankles. They’re joined: lips, chests, hips, in a clash of teeth and frenzied passion. Sasuke, Sasuke, muttering half-formed words, beautiful incoherency, clawing at Naruto’s back with those pianist’s fingers. Back arched with a sigh.

He wakes up on the cold side of the bed, mouth open on a drool-streaked pillow.

“Hello.” A man murmurs, stroking his hair like feathers.

--
did you like it, my dear? I didn't much--I rushed the end DD<
Can you guess where the text came from, on the icon I made for you...^^?

004 CONJUNCTION

2009-09-15T18:31:33Z

{ title: Pandora's Box
{ drabble: conjunction
{ genre: general
{ rating: k+
{ summary: Try and catch me if you can, I'll conquer the world with a kiss from my gun.

003 HELLFIRE

2009-09-14T19:24:46Z

{ title: Pandora's Box
{ drabble: hellfire
{ genre: general
{ rating: t
{ summary: Try and catch me if you can, I'll conquer the world with a kiss from my gun.

002 FIRST THE WORST

2009-09-14T18:51:46Z

{ title: Pandora's Box
{ drabble: first the worst
{ genre: general
{ rating: k
{ summary: Try and catch me if you can, I'll conquer the world with a kiss from my gun.

001 PASSENGER SEAT

2009-09-14T18:36:47Z

{ title: Pandora's Box
{ drabble: passenger seat
{ genre: general
{ rating: k+
{ summary: Try and catch me if you can, I'll conquer the world with a kiss from my gun.

COUGHCOUGH

2007-08-18T22:55:51Z

Wow, Sherrie is really cool. She can do social networking sites now.