#oldwriting

Your eyes like a film-camera capturing scenes, I wish I could be in the foreground frame, subject to your dreaming.

Could you make me seem like the villain who's just misunderstood? Would or wouldn't I be flattering, smoking a cigarette that won't kill me, walking beside you so casually?

I'd like to be the one you secretly love behind-the-scenes, sneaking around and slithering (so the main character doesn't see…)

Not so straight-forward.

mind you most of these i wrote at ages 15-17 and hate almost everything on this list but people still read them so here is a little masterlist for you

* links on posts might not work but I don't have the time or energy to replace them again

** I DO NOT WRITE FOR ANY OF THESE PEOPLE OR CHARACTERS ANYMORE !! I write mostly for Maneskin now lol but I might start writing for a few fictional characters again soon

*** yes i have some commentary next to some fics right now, doesnt really have to do with each fic specifically 😂

**** incomplete but you can find everything I used to write under the tag #oldwriting if you reeeeally must read my old stuff, which I advise you not to 😂

so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,

 I gathered them about you

like how a cat’s black fur turns brown in sunlight

how your hair does the same

like how the human nose can detect a drop of rain

from one hundred miles away

and how I know which blanket you’ve held after you left

How certain types of fish

can go seven years without water

and I can call our friendship enough

How pound for pound,

spidersilk is strong than steel

and your laugh makes me weak and brittle and bright

How ancient Incas replaced parts of their skull

with pumpkin, silver, gold

it never heals quite right

where I’ve tried replacing you

squid have neurons so big 

you can see their component parts with the naked eye

You shift the weight from your shoulders

to the small of your back when you’re comfortable settling in

A settler released starlings in the United States

so every animal mentioned in Shakespeare’s plays

would be here

I met you in a hallway at 9:30 on Friday night

there's a town called Hell in Michigan

another in the Cayman’s

Solo spat out the liquid as quickly as it touched his tongue “WAHT IZZ DIZTH?? ATHHID?!” The Scrafty quickly began to paw at his own tongue looking over with pleading eyes

Jody leaned back in her chair slightly “you’ll get used to it.” Her tone just as apathetic as always as she herself drank a large swing of the moonshine in front of them

The shiny lizard wiped off his tongue with his own shirt before continuing to speak

“How are YOU so used to it??? Is it like a born n raised country girl thing or something??? You drink it like it’s water!!”

“It’s basically just Forget Your Troubles Water” Jody shrugged and took another swig before flashing a glance at him “and I’m not a country girl.... technically..,. Wasn’t raised here fully.”

Solo gently pushed away the glass of pure death liquid as he scooted forward in his seat with a excited tone, his hips and shoulders wiggling “oh yeah that’s right! Diane said something about you guys actually being like?? Royalty?? Like princesses or something?!” He stops and suddenly laughs a bit

“Why the amusement.” Jody raised a brow as his childish laughter

“Oh it’s just... you... Diane... royalty? That’s kinda funny haha! Well Diane I can kind of see but YOU?” His smile was huge but only to quickly fade as he made eye contact with her “uh.. hehe.. you just don’t.... you know... ACT royal? I guess?”

Jody takes the final swig of her drink before leaning back more in her chair, resting her feet on the table and closing her eyes a bit “royalty has nothing to do with how you act. It’s not a state of mind or action that you can do. Royalty depends on if you were squirted into someone royal pussy and squeezed out.”

Solo snorked a bit immaturely at her comment. Haha she said pussy. But he then cocks his head at her curiously “So then... what happened that... made you guys you know... out here..” his hands gesture to the entire room they were in

“Mother was the only one who cared. She died. Father got sick of us.” Jody stared at the wood ceiling for a bit, memorizing all the cracks and creases in the wood. “Well... he liked Diane anyways, but she was close to me.”

Solo paused for a moment, processing what she said in extreme confusion. You could almost see the math floating around his head “so he didn’t like you? How’s that possible?”

Jody looked back over at him with a raised brow as he continued to speak

“I mean... you seem nice enough to me! I mean you’ve saved me enough times and.. well the only real negative I see with you is that your kinda quiet and standoffish a bit but you never seem to mean any real harm! And to be honest you are prett-“

The shiny lizards words were cut off as a stronger male voice is heard from the doorway “She has a tragic case of Cliche Backstory.”

They both look over to see Ulbrecht standing there with a shit eating grin on his face. Jody smirked a bit as Solo slowly began to sink into his seat.

Ulbrecht walks over with his hands dramatically held against his face “Poor princess... got cursed by evil wittle witch and it scared her daddy waddy so he kicked her out~” He gets on his knees and gently leans against Jody’s shoulder “and... poor wittle princess here had become stwong and independent to fiwght monsters to stop the cursey wursey~” He laughs loudly as Jody playfully elbows him in the side.

Solo sinks a bit lower into his seat

Jody gives a playful smirk as she sits upright in her seat “oh shuuut the fuck up there. Mister UwU I had to eat my sibling cuz I was forced too so I became mister edgy bad man~” Ulbrecht laughs harder as he pokes her crest “Oh PLEASE yours is soooo much more cliché!”

“I mean... my ex girlfriend was kinda mean to me....” Solo chimed in a bit, desperate to become part of the conversation again.

“Oh wow shit you right. You need some therapy?” Ulbrecht sneered with a raised brow as he laughed and took a seat next to Jody. She flicked the large lizards cheek. “Hey be nice to him, not a competition.”

Solo smiled a bit at Jody’s attempt to help, but faded again as Ulbrecht continued to speak.

He watched them playfully battle back and forth at one another for a long while. At one point he attempted to take another sip of the moonshine beside him but couldn’t handle it. Eventually he just began to fiddle with his thumbs, once every so often Jody would attempt to include him in the conversation and he would smile and give a short reply.

After fifteen or so minutes, which felt like eternity, Diane busts in with a tray of silverware. Her face visibly excited with a big grin “DINNER TIME YA’LL.”

Diane quickly sets the table, as it was her night to set it. Kiki comes in a bit later with Nana, holding various plates of food.

Dinner is usually a chatty for all of them. But Solo remained silent for once. Slowly eating his food or poking at his carrots. Once every so often he chimed in a bit but mostly his eyes remained fixated on Ulbrecht.

SnakeHead was underneath the table, his head placed on Jody’s lap as once every so often she would feed him bits of her meal.

Jody takes another bite of a biscuit before her eyes land on the unusually quiet lizard across from her “you doing alright.”

Solo jumped a bit at her speaking to him suddenly. His eyes move over to her and smiles a bit “oh yeah I’m fine!”

Jody breaks off another piece of bread to feed to SnakeHead, gently patting his head. “Something up between you two.” Jody’s eyes flicker to Ulbrecht a bit.

Solo sweats a bit and scratches the back of his head with a smile “not that I’m aware of haha!”

Jody’s expression remains blank as she takes another bite of a biscuit “if you say so.”

The rest of the meal continues on for a bit longer before Nana stands up

“Well. I better be headin off to bed. I gotta wrestle in some new bulls tomorrow morn. Ain’t that right Deedee?” Diane groans a bit in disgust.

“I don’t want tooo... stupid stinky bulls...” Diane pokes at her empty plate with a pout. Nana laughs a bit and looks over at Solo

“Aight skinny, your turn to do the dishes tonight! Tomorrow morning it’s..... Kiki to do breakfast dishes right?”

The mienshao nods with a chipper tone and big grin “yes ma’am!”

As they all begin to go into separate rooms, Solo silently begins to collect plates and move them over to the kitchen sink. His eyes fixated on Jody who was leaving out the front door to go on her nightly walk with SnakeHead.

As some plates slam down beside him Solo jumps and drops a plate on the floor, shattering it. His body whips towards where the noise came from only to be greeted by Ulbrecht’s chest.

Solo looks up at him to make eye contact nervously “haha! Sorry you scared the hell outta me!” Ulbrecht remains silent, staring back down at him with a blank expression.

Nervously Solo bends down to begin to pick up various plate shards that were scattered across the wood floor.

The tall lizard beside him slowly bends down to Solo’s ear level and grabs his shoulder firmly.

“It’s alright you know. I don’t like you either.”

Ulbrecht’s words hissed into the shiny scrafties ear, sending a slight shiver down Solo’s spine.

“It’s best if you stay in your lane little man.” Ulbrecht stands and slightly kicks some glass shards away from Solo’s hand as he slowly walks out the front door, presumably to walk with Jody again.

Solo’s eyes fixated on him as he walked out the door. As the door slammed his eyes move down to the shards of porcelain in his palms.

He was afraid. Ulbrecht was capable of a lot and has shown that. Solo didn’t have much going for him, wasn’t all that smart or clever, wasn’t even that strong.

His heart beat violently in fear. The only sound coming from him was the staggered breathing.

Even his tail was trembling slightly as the tip nervously flicked back and forth.

His eyes scanned around the room to see if anyone else had witnessed what had just happened.

Emptiness.

He had probably planned that, just waiting for everyone to leave... no witnesses... he could have done more than just a threat... so much more....

But no... he wanted Solo to be afraid.... he knew that it would tear him apart...

Solo’s breathing begins to quicken slightly in a panic as his eyes search around the room frantically. A knife! Yes a knife would be good enough... or would it?... maybe a gun? A gun would be good.... no... no there wasn’t anything. He could have a tank and Ulbrecht could still get to him. There was no escape if things turned for the worst. Not even God could save him.

Tears began to well in his eyes from the terror surging through him.

What did he even do to deserve that? Did he just rub Ulbrecht the wrong way? What did he mean ‘I don’t like you either’? Solo had no problem with the guy other than he was mildly terrifying! What happened to cause this what what whA T WH AT WH A T W H A T WHY WHY WHY WH Y

Suddenly Solo’s Head shoots up as a sound emerges from outside. He stands up and looks out the window, it was a familiar sound. His eyes squint a bit through his teary eyes as he sees Jody playing with SnakeHead. Laughing as the dog bounds up towards her to jump on top of her, knocking her onto her back. She squeals happily as the dog begins to lick her face, her legs kicking happily. Ulbrecht was leaning by a tree watching them, Solo couldn’t hear but he could tell Ulbrecht was making a snide comment towards them.

The shiny lizards heartbeat slowly goes down and his face slowly forms a frown, his grip slowly beginning to crunch the glass shards in his palm.

He turns around to bend over and pick up the rest of the shattered plate pieces.

His breathing had evened out and heart beat had slowed down as he realized.

He didn’t dislike Ulbrecht.

He hated him.

He stood no chance against him in strength or smarts. But he suddenly wasn’t that afraid of him.

His voice is a slight irritated whisper to himself as he picks up a large shard of plate and looks at his reflection

Sometime in October, 2016.

A stable, sweet laugh ruptures, which comes all the way from the cavernous depths of your chest and it echoes throughout my ears But then a brittle croak comes from the back of your throat. And I know what is coming. It is Almost as if an impostor is in control of your lungs Taking your respiratory system hostage, Forcing out that crippling sigh of despondency.

A Speech well Rehearsed, Saturated…

I come from a generation of women who have dealt with situations that made them grow vindictive and hard around the edges that were made to be the softest. I come from a generation of women who have been called crazy, a little unwell and a little unlovable.

My great-grandmother lived in the time when feet had to be crushed small, when the bones you were born with weren’t good enough and had to be wrapped in layers of bandage and made to bleed until beautiful. My great-grandmother didn’t live very long but lived just enough to give life to so many children that my grandmother was the one she sold off to another family for money.

My grandmother sold cabbage on the streets of sidewalks as a young teenager. Later on, I would understand why my grandmother took home left-over french fries from Mcdonald’s to reheat later and kept every extra ketchup packet. She would scold my mother for throwing away moldy bread and food that had been long-expired. My mother would often tell me quietly, “your grandmother is a war-victim” as if she was afraid I would be ashamed, as if I didn’t understand. And I didn’t.

I think my grandmother fell in love, once. Once was enough for her to question all male identity and to remind me so when I came home in the 2nd grade and told her about the boy who gave me a flower. “You can’t trust them,” she would say in Chinese when the language barrier had not yet grown too thick. I would just nod and forget, nod and forget.

She fell in love with the man who she would later walk in on with another woman. The other woman would be her best friend who had only one arm. My mother tells me, though, that my grandmother did not cry. But not only does infidelity break a woman’s heart– she hated herself for not being as worthy as another woman who had no arm. At the time I shamefully wondered if maybe there was something more to it than a lost arm. Regardless, nobody could tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that there was nothing wrong with her, that she didn’t need to change.

But I think she did, anyway.

Spite became the soul of my grandmother but when I look into her eyes, I know that she is wonderful and loving.. that the heart of her is still there even if it was buried beneath years of trauma. Pain can change a person. Pain can change a lot.

She met my grandpa a few years later and had my mother. I’d like to think she did love him, but with more caution and less ease. One morning, while her and my ma were wrapping 粽子 (Taiwanese tamale), she kept dropping them and missing the table. My ma said there was nothing wrong with my grandmother’s eyesight but that something felt wrong about the air.

My grandpa died the next day. That was my grandmother’s last marriage.

Over the years, she would dedicate herself to loving me when my mother was too young to. She would pay for my mother’s trip to America to start her life over and she would raise me to love the color red and big, extravagant hats.

I would sit beside her and watch her reflection in her vanity mirror as she applied bright red lipstick to her lips. She would smile at me, tell me to scoot closer and make me pucker up. I am told that I am more like my grandmother than my own mother sometimes. I wanted to grow up too fast and I wanted to wear heels before I learned how to tie my own shoes and I absolutely loved red nail polish. My grandmother taught me how to be a woman before I could read or write.

My grandmother was my rock. She was my steel soldier, my only guidance to what a woman should be and how a woman should love. And maybe I took too much of what she had said to heart. Maybe I took a part of her coldness with me. But she would be the one who would hold all of my secrets, the fears I had for my biological father, my wishes for her to take my mother and me away. She would be the first number I would dial when he would come home late at night and I knew it was going to be another one of those nights. She would be the first one to teach me how to dial 1-1-9. She would be the one who made sure I was fed, that my skin wasn’t bruised, that my eyes weren’t too soiled, too young. My grandmother was my benchmark of how one could overcome anything, especially my childhood when images felt like glass held between my palms that would bleed and she would be the one to make all of it stop.

I can’t really talk to her anymore. The years and the age have caught up and made her weak in her bones and in her speech. I avoid looking at her sometimes because I feel shame for not taking care of her enough, for not loving her more, for not showing it the best I could, for not being able to communicate and open up like I used to when I was little. Sometimes she’ll look at me and smile, weak but always the same. The kind of smile that says to me I will still love you the way I always have even if time and circumstances and life changes.. even if we change.

I remember hearing a song come up on the television, once and it was the same song she would sing to me when I was little, the same song I would struggle but learn to learn. I asked, excitedly, “Nainai, do you remember this song? It’s the song you used to sing to me!” She would nod and chuckle but in a way that made me realize she couldn’t remember. But she smiled because I did.