The fight for you is all I’ve ever known

Strength, Safety, Sensation!

Wed, 04 Feb 2009 02:16:17 GMT

It's scary how easily your body can become accustomed to another...
I wonder if he realised what he was doing 2 months ago when we spent 52 hours together at a music festival and then back at his home. Altogether it was probably only an hour out of that when we weren’t touching. I would step out of his arms to give a friend a quick hug hello and then he would be pulling me back to him. He would turn to get a drink off a friend, but his arm would still be slung around my waist… across my shoulders… tucked into my pockets. He whispered that he couldn’t keep his hands off me… and the truth is, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But when I went home after our weekend together my body felt wrong. That physical connection had been broken and every nerve-ending screamed for his touch.

I’ve always been a people-person. I’m happiest when I’m with other people. I need interaction and love discovering different bonds with different people. So, part of me loved this new attachment. Part of me wanted to explore it, to strengthen it into something even stronger. But the other part of me wanted to run away, scared of trapping myself into another suffocating, controlling relationship.

I’d like to say that the strong, adventurous, loving part of me won out… but after discovering the freedom of being single… I ran away; scared of being restrained.
Fortunately, there is only so much running you can do in this city, and now only 2 months later, I am forced to face this feeling again. All it took, was him walking into the same bar, capturing my gaze with those whisky brown eyes smiling at me. “Hey stranger, have you missed me?” and suddenly I was back in his arms again like the last two months hadn’t been filled dodging chance meetings just like this.

What a waste of 2 months, why did I ever run? The way he makes me feel is so addictive I can’t understand how I could have ignored calls from him in the past. I’ve always adored him, but now I adore the way he makes me feel… I love that I can feel nervous and stressed, but forget it all as soon as he enters the room when I am filled with confidence and suddenly feel like I can beat anything. More than any of that, I trust him not to betray this power he has over me. Because he likes me as a wild thing… he likes that I have opinions different to his, he appreciates that sometimes I wander off in the middle of a crowd because I get curious about things that we pass.

The strangest thing is that even though he has such a hold over me… I feel more powerful than ever, because I think he feels the same way about me. So again... I wonder if he knew what he was getting himself into - 2 months ago! Because I don't think I'll ever let him go!

xxx
RA

Alive, Addicted... Amore!

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 02:22:43 GMT

There's something about those whisky brown eyes... The way they sparkle when you tease me. I could feel like an absolute nervous wreck, but the moment my eyes meet yours, everything fades away. Nothing else matters but the smile tugging at your lips before they touch mine in a sweet kiss.

Now I'm tormented by the memory... You reaching through the crowd and pulling me into your embrace. Your lips on my neck as you whisper "Stop being so sexy." But how could I ever stop when you make me feel so alive and confident.

I never knew I could become so accustomed to something so quickly. But after 8 hours in your arms - dancing... hugging... kissing... my body feels wrong without you. I'm aching for those strong hands gripping me tight.

I should have realised it would be this intense. We've known each other for over a year and through all the flirting and waiting, this chemistry has built up so that the first time we touched last week... we couldn't stop.

You lifted me into your arms, wrapping me around you and you said it felt so right...

If only I could see you tonight!

xxx
RA

Fanfiction: Smallville

Mon, 24 Nov 2008 11:06:02 GMT

Title: Saved to Save Another Day
Author: RA
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, this is just one of the many ways I can imagine Lois and Clark moving on.
Spoilers: Some reference to 'The Bride'
Summary: Lois and Clark save each other in more ways than one.

His arm was aching. The metallic taste of his own blood was fresh in his mouth.

Clark dragged his feet outside into the morning sunshine. The golden rays surrounded him, gliding over his skin and healing the gash across his cheek until it was only a small cut. Chloe would have healed him completely…

This was the third time he’d gone up against the monster that had stolen her, and it was the third time he was lucky to get away alive. He couldn’t help but doubt that Chloe had been that lucky, just as he couldn’t help fighting to get her back.

As soon as he had enough energy to lift his head, Clark flung his arms wide and yelled so loud that his barn shook. It was a low roar of fury, frustration… and pain.

…

She found him kneeling outside the barn, his hands gripping the dirt as though he was about to lift up the very earth and toss it aside like a bale of hay. For a moment… she believed that he could.

“Clark?” Lois knelt down beside him and stroked the dirt around his fists. She was careful not to touch him, and poured all her tenderness into the soil instead. “Jimmy was released from the hospital today.” She whispered, watching the muscles of his hands ripple as he clenched the dirt tighter.

“It’s been 2 weeks.” She added, sifting the dirt through her fingers. “When are you going to stop this craziness and come back to us?”

Clark turned his head and looked at her, and it was the first time she’d seen those sky blue eyes since she’d left him in Smallville Hospital on Chloe’s Wedding Night. She felt a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach as she realised they weren’t as bright a blue as usual, and thin red veins wound from the corners, gripping him with exhaustion.

“You can’t keep this up Kent” She found herself adopting the same strict, no-nonsense voice the Colonel used with her. She wanted to be soft and womanly for Clark, she wanted to let her voice break with answering weariness and pain… She wanted to be stroking him, not the ground before them. But Clark finally needed her and she had to be strong.

“I have to keep this up Lois, I can’t just give up.” His voice sounded just as tired as his gaze looked. She focused her eyes back on the ground quickly as she felt them moisten with tears. Her hands were kneading the dirt around her to keep from massaging away the tension she saw in his muscles. “Not giving up Clark. Just accepting that there’s nothing else to do.”

Clark’s hands finally released the dirt he’d been clutching…he rose to his feet in one swift movement and flung it across the road. “There has to be something else Lois, I have to save you! I have to beat this thing”

It took a moment for her to understand the full impact of his words and suddenly Lois couldn’t hold back any longer. She straightened to her feet and stepped closer to him, she needed to look him in the eye now, even if it meant letting him see her cry. “Chloe”. She said slowly. “You mean; ‘you have to beat this thing and save Chloe’.”

Something flickered behind his eyes… it was what she had been searching for. Clark’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d let slip. Even as she saw it written across his face, Lois didn’t let herself believe that Clark was worried about her. She shook her head and the tears spilled faster over her cheeks. “I don’t need to be saved.”

It took a moment for Clark to wipe his hands clean on his jeans, before he let himself reach up and brush the teardrops from under her eyes. “The Lois I know and love, doesn’t just give up.” He said softly. “You gave up that night at the Hospital. I knew I needed to save Chloe… to save you.”

His hands moved down to her arms and he gently tugged them apart so that she wasn’t hugging herself any longer. He pulled her close and replaced her own hug, with his. “But I couldn’t do it on my own Lois. I need you to help me. You save me, and I’ll save you… and then maybe together we can save Chloe.”

For a long, scary moment… Clark thought he hadn’t gotten through to her. But just as the tears started to slow, Lois hugged him back.

“The Lois you know and love…” She prompted.

For the first time in 2 weeks, Clark smiled. Trust Lois to pick up every slip of the tongue he’d made today.

“The Lois I love.” He admitted.

“The Clark I love.” She answered.

And standing there; dirty, exhausted, scared and hopeful at the same time… they loved together… they saved each other… and they promised to never stop fighting.

Pretty as a Picture

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 12:32:37 GMT

…Beauty is in the eye of the beholder…

I wonder who was the first person to say that? It is the truest quote I have ever heard.

Everyone is different and we all appreciate different things. I think my old, scruffy German Shepherd Tyr is beautiful. He was the first pet I ever chose for myself. I was 11 and felt sorry for him because he was the runt of the litter and didn't ever play with the other puppies… I couldn't stand the thought of him being lonely and convinced my mum to bring him home with us. Now my little Tyr has grown up to be a huge dog with boundless energy and a resounding bark that sometimes makes the windows shake. So many people don't understand the appeal he still holds for me as he gets older, surlier and scruffier... :-) But he’s mine and loves me no matter what I do, so I love him no matter what as well. Every time I look at him - I see warm, brown eyes… soft, cuddly fur, a tail wagging with excitement that I'm paying him attention... and I can't understand how anyone could ever resist him!

The world is full of beautiful things. I truly believe that everything is beautiful to someone out there. If you ever feel unattractive, just remember that! You might not like your appearance, your peers might not fully appreciate your beauty… But to someone out there, you are beautiful in all the ways that count to them.

xxx
RA

.

Public Speaking or Death?

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 22:41:55 GMT

View Poll: Do you put much stock in Statistics?

This morning on the radio Kate Taylor reported:

"Australians would rather die than talk in public" referring to a recent study where roughly 70% of Australians ranked Public Talking as their greatest fear above Death.

I’m so over Journalists misinterpreting statistics and twisting the wording so that something means a completely different thing altogether! Just because people are more afraid of Public Talking than Death doesn’t mean they would prefer to die than give a speech! It’s actually healthy to not have a strong fear of dying because guess what people – it happens to everyone eventually! We have been given the strength to understand that you can’t spend your life being afraid of something that is inevitable… So yeah, we’re more afraid of Public Speaking than Death. But at least that is a reasonable fear, plenty of people can go through a successful life without Public Speaking, but to my knowledge… no-one can go through life without eventually coming to death.

I am confident that if the statistic options were Public Speaking or Painful Death the results would have been gravely different.

I personally enjoy Public Speaking. I'm opinionated, confident, and often more comfortable talking to a large crowd than having one-on-one time with someone intimidating. To be perfectly honest, I enjoy having all that attention fixed on me ;o) But even then, I still get nervous everytime I need to do a Public Presentation... What if I mess up? What if no-one is interested in what I have to say? It's always the 'what-if's that do it! Whereas death... yeah I'd prefer to die an old lady slowly falling asleep in bed surrounded by people I love instead of right now at a young age. But I try not to think about death too much... and the less you think about something, the less scary it becomes.

xxx
RA

Fight or Flight

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 23:29:58 GMT

I woke up last night on the kitchen counter – It turns out that I sleep walk…

All the doors and windows were locked shut and I was the only one in the apartment (My roomie has paired off for Spring and has been spending most nights with her current boy toy). It was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me. I woke up shivering and as my eyes came into focus, I didn’t recognise the walls surrounding me. Naturally – I freaked and jumped up, thinking I was in a comfortable squishy bed… instead I banged my head on the cabinet above me.

Now I was cold, lost and my head was pounding…

The first thought that came to my sleep-addled brain; was that I had been abducted in my sleep! Someone had taken me and put me in a tiny dark room with counters and cupboards and sinks and… my kettle… my kettle? That’s when I realised I was in my kitchen and I almost felt like laughing, almost. Despite realising where I was, adrenaline was still pumping through my veins and the icy fingers of fear are not ones you can shake off easily.

I flicked on all of my lights and checked every little nick and cranny to make sure I was alone in that apartment. After all, I’ve never sleep-walked before and yet somehow I ended up on my kitchen counter in the middle of the night.

One thing that I’ve taken away from this; is that people act so differently under genuine fear. I always thought I’d be a screamer if someone attacked me, but last night I didn’t even cry out in pain when I hit my head… I caught the gasp at the back of my throat when I first woke up surprised and I slipped silently across the floor as I took in my surroundings.

As much as I felt panicked, I didn’t act in alarm. I was controlled and careful… I’ve never been a victim before but now I’m confident that if something ever came to that, I would be able to fight back strategically.

It’s weird how random realisations like that can change your outlook on life or your confidence in yourself.

I hope all of you are fighters as well. As nice as it is to dream about a night in shining armour to rescue you, (and some people might be lucky enough to have one) it’s always important to be able to rescue yourself. It makes you powerful. I’ve done a quick search on it and 1 out of 3 attackers will abandon the assault if you fight back. They don’t expect it and suddenly you become too much of a hassle and "The juice isn’t worth the squeeze"-(Encino Man)

Anyway, I've linked a few articles that I found interesting and empowering in case anyone ever reads this and is interested :o)

xxx
RA

Studies on Fighting Back

How to Fight an Attacker (Dirty)

Myths About Fighting Back

Fanfiction: Bones

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 12:56:19 GMT

I miss Bones!!! So here's a little something I wish would happen... can't resist!

xxx
RA

Title: Across the Line
Author: RA
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any characters, this is just something I WISH those that do own them would write...
Summary: Another Christmas... a bit of Booth ♥ Bones fluff - Brennans POV

You have temptation written all over you. I watch you bring a forkful of pie to your lips and am captivated by the shape of your hands, so big and powerful but holding the fork so gently. You are empathy and good manners, such a contrast to me when I blurt out everything I think with blunt candidness… They say opposites attract and in all of my studies I have seen results disclaiming that. Anthropologically, people are attracted most to someone with similarities to bond over. But the connection I feel when we bicker over our differences means I can’t refute the theory.

Your eyes trap mine every time you catch me staring... I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Warm brown eyes of a man capable of great violence. You are the kind of guy I know I’ll have to fight for. I’m not ready to fight… So we make a deal; partners… Don’t cross the line because there may be no going back. When white and black mix they become grey and no matter how much white you try to take away… that black will always just be a darker shade of grey.

It’s Christmas again, my fourth one with you… My holidays have been so much happier since you came into my life. I almost can’t imagine not celebrating the season of good cheer, even though I’m not religious. Your hand slips around my arm as you tug me off the Diner stool… You always drag me everywhere as though you don’t trust me to follow. Don’t you understand that I would go anywhere with you?

I’ve seen evidence of dominant partners clashing, constantly trying to prove that one is stronger than the other. But I don’t feel threatened when you are the one to lead me and take control, we have become so comfortable with our give and take routine.

I’ve had a bit more eggnog to drink than you, so I let myself lean on your shoulder as we move to your car. You smell so much nicer than the chemicals of my lab or the coffee tainted air of the diner; I tell you just that and you laugh low in your throat. I breathe in deep and promise myself I’ll remember this scent forever… soap, spicy cologne and something else completely Booth.

You talk about Parker as we drive to my apartment. For a moment, you are just like him as you rush on with boyish enthusiasm and describe your holiday plans starting next week. I don’t want to bring a child of my own into a society as corrupted as this… But you are full of innocence and delight even after everything you’ve seen and been through; I start to believe any child of yours would always stay safe.

Your heater is broken in the department car, and by the time we get to my apartment; your nose is pink… so I thank you for bringing Rudolf to take me home. You laugh with me and the air rushes out of your lungs in a foggy cloud. You come upstairs with me to get warm before the big drive back to your own home. I jump at the chance to show off the few Christmas decorations I had gathered over the past years. The smile on your face is almost as eager to see them as I am to see a new skeleton and I know I will get more decorations, just to see those dimples again next Christmas. I have flat cellophane snowflakes hanging from my ceiling and you tug one down with all your confidence and comfort in my home. You peel layers off that I didn’t know existed and suddenly, it’s a 3D snowflake sphere.

“My Hero!” I claim dramatically, but with total seriousness.

You are my knight in fbi standard issue gear. You are charisma and pride… I wish you were mine. You hear my wish and your eyebrows raise. The snowflake drops forgotten to the floor, flat again. You stare at me a long while and then at the abandoned decoration on the floor between us, you step over it to get to me… stepping over the line in our partnership.

I never expected this piece of you, couldn't have foreseen the purr of your voice. "What?” I ask, and you say, “This” before your mouth is on mine and I am aching all over as you thrust your tongue (and your heart) down my throat.

You taste like every promise I’ve ever made; sweet and real, so strong that you pull me in deep and my knees go weak. This isn’t like last years kiss… I couldn’t fake indifference even if our friendship depended on that line staying between us. This time I don’t need to grip your collar to pull you in close, your lips are firmly locked to mine and your body is pressed tightly against me so that I can feel every inch of you.

You are holding me like you’ll never let me go; I pull away just long enough to make you promise you won’t. You lift me into your arms and I wrap myself around you, 206 bones surrounding you… Loving you… Keeping you.

Writer's Block: A.A. Milne

Fri, 17 Oct 2008 00:50:26 GMT

Some people find Eeyore’s gloomy outlook charming. Others prefer the bouncy enthusiasm of Tigger. Who would you rather be trapped in an elevator with: Eeyore or Tigger?

View 501 Answers

I never really watched much Winne the Pooh, but from what I've seen - I'd have to say Tigger. I believe that moods and emotions are somewhat contageous and selfishly, I'd rather be happy than sad :o)

I might become annoyed by Tigger bouncing off the walls in our elevator, but being energetic and happy-go-lucky myself, I'd find that more reassuring than a negative Eeyore crounched sad in the corner. I would love to save the little guy and make him smile... But after coming out of a 2 year relationship with a man who had severe depression, I have realised that the only person that can make you happy - is yourself.

xxx
RA

Converted - Coveted

Thu, 16 Oct 2008 22:29:22 GMT

Keeping a journal has always seemed a little crazy to me... when you think about it, you're really just writing to yourself. Why do people always think they are going insane when they talk to themselves with no-one else is around, but writing to themselves in a diary is perfectly acceptable? Well; blogs and livejournals changed that I suppose because now people can read your innermost thoughts on sites like this. So technically we're not only writing to ourselves, but to fellow bloggers
:o)

Consider me converted! I like the sound of my own voice, and the look of my thoughts written down sporadically on a crisp page; or in this case - a web page. I've been a Livejournal creeper for a bit now and had a few laughs over what some people have shared... and the truth is, I'm too opinionated and loudmouthed to stay silent any longer. So voila - this is my very own place of chatter

xxx
RA