2 Years Ago...

two years...

two hundred-fifty posts....

78 followers...

34 unpublished drafts...

21,266 page views

ago and I started my blog.

honestly, i'm pretty amazed. i'm sure i've said this plenty of times, but when i started in 2011, i never really expected to get any followers. i thought i was just going to do my little thing and then, maybe in a year or so, be done with it.

needless to say, i'm not done with it.

and i hope to ''not be done with it'' for quite a while yet.

happy blog anniversary, self!

Be Yourself {Everybody Else Is Already Taken}

I don't want to be somebody who's already taken. I want to be my own, have my own style of blogging. I don't want to change to gain followers{as much as I'd like to have a lot of you}.
It's sorta hard to find a way to say it, but basically I don't want to look back on blogging years when I'm older and think ''those were the years that I changed for others''.


*************

she smiled, the wind harsh against her cheeks, the life bursting out of her. she could only think of all the times she said no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no to being somebody else. she let her arms go; let the wind push them. oh, the wind, she thought, it thinks it pushes me but it has no idea of my control. no idea of my control. she liked the ring to it. 
she thought of the years when she was tempted to say yes. yes to change herself. and, how better off she was now then she ever would have been.

***************

I guess all I'm trying to say is be yourself. don't waste your time being somebody else.

Under My Christmas Tree {More Fan-fiction}

My mouth gaps open.

I'll admit it--I snuck down to the family room before anybody else was awake, just to see the presents. And there Tom Hiddleston was, under my tree.

''You're awake!'' Tom says, smiling. He re-adjusts the sparkly red Christmas bow on his head. ''How rude am I?! Sitting while you're standing, I'm so sorry,'' he says, jumping up.

I numbly sit down by the tree, closing my eyes. No. This is too good to be true.

 ''Those pajamas are absolutely lovely.''

I open my eyes. Tom's still there, with his sparkling eyes and messy hair.

''Th-Thanks,'' I can finally speak. ''Yours are great, too,'' I half-whisper. He looks down, pleased, at his Avengers onesie. ''I got it from Santa when he delivered me!'' he says. He also shows me an opened package of ginger cookies. {''I was hungry,'' he explains.}

''Now, I got this for you,'' Tom says, handing me a mini plush Loki doll. I giggle, half from happiness and the rest from hysteria. Tom Hiddleston under my tree. I knew I'd been good.

''I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming,'' I whisper. I blush furiously.
Tom takes my hand. If I could have blushed more, I would have.
''You're the only thing I wanted for Christmas.''

The Dauntless Story

I suck in a breath. What exhilaration, what power. My muscles coil and then bounce back, letting the knife go with them. The knife goes where I want it to go. The bull's eye. It'd go nowhere else.
My instructor gives me a slight nod. I am the first to hit the bull's eye. I throw another knife. Not quite the bull's eye, but it makes a satisfying thunk against the cardboard.

***

My breath is loud; heavy. It'll give me away. 

I watch the girl, dressed in her yellow raincoat. She can't be more than seven. Before it happens, I see the man running at her with a gun, firing. I also know what I'll do before it happens.

I'll do what any other Dauntless would do, save her. For that is courage, and courage is what we are built upon.

I run out from my alley before the man can even be seen. I push myself into the air, in front of the girl. The bullet pierces right above my heart. Enough to hurt, but not to kill me. The pain's excruciating. I clutch at my chest, leaving my hands stained crimson. Oh, oh, is all I can think. The girl runs away. Good, I think this time, she won't be hurt. The thought nearly takes all of the pain away, reminds me why I am here. I am here because I am Dauntless.

The pain wasn't real, but I can still feel it. The stickiness of the blood on my hand, the pain above my heart. I'm told it doesn't go away. 

One of the other initiates catches up to me, scowling. ''They told me to choose, and I did. I chose to stay in my alley. And now they beat me for it!'' He complains. It's Max. He is Dauntless-born and I am Erudite...was Erudite; but somehow we became friends. 

''You didn't save her?'' I ask in surprise. I think of her sweet, haunting face and wonder how he couldn't. ''And risk my life? Of course not,'' he answers. 

He turns to walk backwards, facing me. He grins. I once thought his grin was beautiful, a grin of a boy I'd like to know. But now it's only sadistic. 

''When I'm a Dauntless leader, I'm going to take this out of the initiation process. It's useless.'' His voice is certain, and I believe him. 

I quickly flit pass him, not wanting to think about him, or the future. ''Tori,'' he yells, ''Tori, wait up!''

Room Tour

Here is what my room looks like! Nothing really matches but it's home-y. :)

 my Christmas tree. :)

 {@Kara ;)}

 my bookshelf. I have more books, but they're stashed somewhere else. :3

 a ''single socks'' meeting is happening on my dresser. ;) They're decided if they should go skiing or have a Christmas cookie exchange for this month. Help them decide by voting on the sidebar. ;)

 pointe shoes can actually stand up by themselves.

That's it! I hoped you enjoyed it. Remember to vote on the sidebar for the Single Socks! Also, is your Christmas tree up yet? If it is, what's your favorite ornament on it? :)

post script: my parakeet decided to type with me as I was writing this up. ;)