My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.

When I was a kid, me and my dad got into stargazing. We'd go out into the garden at about 4pm, because during the winter it was dark enough and I wasn't tired enough yet, and we'd spread out a cover on the small amount of grass, hot chocolate clasped in my hand like it was the only thing to stop me floating up into the atmosphere I didn't yet understand existed, before I realised gravity was the only certainty in life and I wasn't going anywhere. I must have been seven or eight years old, still in love with Peter Pan and not knowing what my future would hold.

He pointed out the usual, Orion, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia the Seven Sisters, the idea of two stars sometimes being so close that they almost look like one, and I thought that was so wonderful, that they were close enough to each other to merge entirely unless you didn't look directly at them, because they were so bright that when they were together you couldn't tell the difference. Like the Seven Sisters, you can't see all seven of them unless you look slightly to one side, because a few are so faint, because a few of them were too shy to stand being stared at. When I taught myself to stare to the side, I felt like I'd learnt the secret of the universe, and I was so proud that I didn't tell my dad how to do it, my own secret with the stars.

The night I realised there were stars beyond the stars, stars we could only see with the telescope he got and then there were still more that we wouldn't be able to see, I felt how small I was, and it was terrifyingly wonderful. This was before I even knew about Doctor Who and Star Wars, when I didn't realise how people have been fascinated by Out There.

He asked me if I could spot any constellations, and I'm sad to say I can no longer remember many of the names I learnt. But there's one; delphinus, the dolphin. One of the first nights, I pointed up to what looked like a sideways diamond with one star to one side, asking if that counted. I hadn't yet grasped the fact that constellations are made up, anyway. They're just a way to make sense of the mess above us and around us, to make us feel a little bit better about the fact that we're surrounded by things we don't yet understand, things we haven't explored. Maybe to make us feel a little less scared by it all.

Delphinus was named supposedly by a group of sailors. Their ship got turned over in a storm, or something. Or one of them fell out, I can't remember. But a dolphin caught them, carried them above the water. I'm reluctant to search it up again because I feel like it would ruin the story that made me feel safer when I looked up, so long as I could catch sight of that dolphin watching over me and sailors.

I would stare up at it all, and the first time I saw one moving I was convinced I'd imagined it. When I decided I wasn't, I was terrified. I thought we'd been spotted looking, that whatever it was would come and get me. Dad explained it was just a satellite, and that the same one would pass over that exact point in 90 minutes, because that's how long it takes to get around the world, and isn't that brilliant? Now when I look up, I wonder if it really is a satellite, or if it's something else, but it doesn't scare me any more. I know I'm just one person, and whatever it is doesn't care if I've seen it. Now, I believe it's the TARDIS, or the Enterprise coasting the edge of the sky until it can get back to it's own time, and I feel safe.

And when you look up at the milky way, the belt of so many stars it looks like a nightmare to a kid with issues concerning crows, you're staring out of the edge of this galazy. You're staring right up/down/into the unknown, the direction the Enterprise would boldly go so we didn't have to worry about it any more. If I stare too long I get dizzy on the idea that it just keeps going.

But the night I realised something could be looking back, my dad wasn't there to share it with me. I think it was because of Ivan, actually. He had this monologue from a story we played around with, my character standing with Sherlock on the crows nest of the Jolly Roger Reichenbach, sharing his coat and looking up from Neverland. They were inside a star, but that shouldn't be so weird to me now because so are we, in a way. What if there are other Neverlands, Sherlock asked in wonderment. What if there are versions of it in all those stars? What if we didn't just take the second star to the right and straight on til morning, but we took the first to the left, straight on til teatime? What if we're looking up, and something is looking right back.

Sure, it was written in a story, but I still wonder. I figured out alone that all those stars are suns, that all those suns have their own solar system. That space is forever expanding and one day it's going to reverse, to implode until everything that's ever existed or will exist is squashed into a single space the proportions of which our languages cannot even begin to name, and then the whole process may be repeated over.

I'd really like to find that speech, to print it out on my wall because it's been almost a year and I haven't forgotten and I want to read it until it's tattooed over my heart, reminding me that whatever I'm doing, whatever I feel and whatever scares me, there's probably someone out there keeping an eye on me.

When I get a kid, I'm going to take them to the top of a hill, with a blanket, some binoculars and a flask of hot chocolate, and I'm going to show them the stars. I'll show them the planets that are in sight, how you can actually see the rings of Jupiter if you look in a strong enough lens, how Mars actually shows bright red mixed with the blinding white reflection of the sun, how some of the stars we can see are long dead, and we're looking at the light it emitted back when dinosaurs were around, we're staring into the past like time travellers do, and I'm going to feel the amazement and excitement I did all those years ago as the knowledge fills my kid's imagination. I'll show them the very things that I've held close to my heart for years and I'll teach them about the dolphin that's kept an eye on me and all those adventurous sailors.

I'll show him the meteor showers, so many you can't possibly wish on them all as they caress the edge of the atmosphere and take your wishes back out into the universe, the closest thing to First Contact that I've ever witnessed, and I'll hold both the kid and my lover close under the blanket of dying suns like we're the only people left alive.

Old Sport!

For as long as I can remember, I've had a strong impulse to go out into rain when it's pouring. I only have memories of acting on this in any way since I moved to Dorset, but it seems a want I've had for a long time.

I have an image of being in another bedroom of the house that my brother now shares with his girlfriend, curled up on the windowseat with my arm hanging out into the hard rain, hand slowly going numb as the water hit it. It's one of the only times I feel truly alive around here.

Back in Sweden, there was some sort of storm that was so bad the trams stopped running, and the roads flooded. The front of the restaurant Moony works at is rounded with the logo across it, and it worked as some sort of waterfall, so if you stood on the glass of that area it was like being in a waterfall. It was so awesome that Moony and her colleagues, and the few customers, ended up crowding around the windows, taking photos, talking to each other about how weird it was that the sky seemed like 10pm rather than 11am.

I felt like I should try to prove to Moony's colleagues that I was a responsible young man, rather than the 15 year old pre-pubescent kid I know I resemble, so I kept myself together then.

Apparently it hasn't rained in this part of England for a while. I know, what a break in the stereotype. But this evening, out of fucking nowhere, there was sudden torrential downpour. Out of my window it looked like small slices of silver. I couldn't help but pull down my window and do what I always did, stick my arm out and just feel the weather.

-WARNING, GREAT GATSBY SPOILERS YONDER-

And something weird, that struck me as I looked out over the rooftops, to the glowing lights through the mist. That iconic symbol of Jay Gatsby looking out across the water, to the green light at the end of Daisy Buchanan's place. That light, as far as I can remember, symbolises his 'Murican dream. The life he wants with Daisy where everything is fine, and she's just across the water. But even once he has her, he can't stop staring out at the light, because he's started dreaming and hoping for something that reality can never fulfill. He's a hopelss romantic, a dreamer, and that's his downfall.

As I stared out at the white lights that suggest cars on a distant road through the mist and/or cloudbank, because both are sometimes possible here, weirdly, with my arm going numb and my hand freezing with the rainwater, I was reminded of it. I have so many aspirations and plans, but no way of knowing it'll all come true. I might just be hoping for too much. Like Gatsby.

So I guess I'm trying to say that I get where he's coming from, I sympathise with Gatsby and I'm hoping my Daisy Buchanan really is my transition and Starfleet Brighton Uni.

That's what I go to school for.

There are a couple of characters I always go to for inspiration when it comes to schoolwork, and I decided to write them out here, so that I can either come back to them later or, I don't know, maybe this blog will fulfil the secondary purpose with which it was created and actually help someone.

So here, in no particular order, is a 10 characters because otherwise this won't ever stop, and some reasons I adore the dedication they have to their work, most of which will probably be based upon fanfictions and loose canon, but that's just how I'm working right now. If I go off tangent slightly please forgive me, it's kind of late and I have a lot of pent up writing energy. Probably some spoilers for each series or story these characters are in, you have been warned here.

Sam Winchester. Sam is wonderful. His family business is killing demons and hunting things, but he decides to get away from all that and go to school. They moved around a lot growing up, so he never really had time to make friends, and both he and Dean had to get their act together each time, try to get as far in their studies as they could before they moved on, and his dad wasn't around much. But you know what, he was going to get into Stanford. He was going to Law school, despite how much it would cost, he was doing it. His brother and father don't want him to do it, but he does. He's one of the smartest kids I know. I'll include a little about Dean here because it isn't strictly work-based, but he looked after Sammy since they were both kids, and his dedication to making sure his little brother was alright, well above his own needs, is what I wish I could have in a brother. I'll always look up to Dean.

Harry Potter (and Remus Lupin?and everybody while we're at it). This was mostly because of Moony. I only recently discovered the Maurader era fanfiction, but I'm very glad I did. Both Harry and Remus have a lot to put up with in Hogwarts. Remus turns into a werewolf every 30 days or so and Harry is never actually allowed one year of normal life at Hogwarts, but they both get through it anyway. I feel so damn sorry for both of them sometimes, like, jesus christ I think school's hard as it is for me, Harry had to face 99 problems every single year. But with the help of their friends, they both manage, and I can't stop being impressed by that. Everyone in those years deserve medals.

Wesley Crusher (and Pavel Chekov). I'm going to go right out and admit I absolutely love Wesley Crusher. He's an important aspect of Star Trek: The Next Generation to me and a reason I fell in love with the series before I discovered my love for Data, and currently Riker. I love him enough that I'm using the actor that played him for my coursework this year. So both of these wonderful boys get to work in the Enterprise (Wesley in the Enterprise-D and Chekov in the original NCC-1701 for anybody that cares, which is probably nobody) before they even hit 18. Chekov is 17, and Wesley is probably like 13 or something when Picard is convinced to let him work, and he dabbles between piloting the fucking ship and working in engineering. Honestly, he pretty much solves the show every episode but the fans seemed not to like him. Being his age and wanting desperately to be in Starfleet, I can only see him as wonderful. As for Chekov, he's adorable as fuck and a goddamn genius. He can lock on to moving targets and beam them aboard, he can sneakily hide behind planetary moons, he can do anything except speak clearly into a microphone and recount realistic facts that don't somehow include Russia. Both of these boys had to work hard to get to their posts, and I'll never stop being amazed that Starfleet even allows that.

Stiles Stilinski. Also Isaac Lahey. Basically most of Teen Wolf except Derek Hale because what the hell does Derek even do in his spare time? But my main worry is for these kids. Stiles is getting through life without his mom around even his dad for a little while, not to mention he's the only one in the pack that's still human and has no special powers or skills. He does all the research and worries about his BFF Scott, and he still goes to school every day, they all do. I worry about how much time they spend in that building both in the day and at night, but I guess Beacon Hills isn't that fun anywhere else. Seriously, though, Stiles and Isaac had a lot of issues at home, aside from the alpha-hunting problems the whole pack has, and they're both doing so well. Isaac ended up living with Scott and probably falling slightly in love with him, but he's fine now. I think they all need more credit for not skipping days because they're so tired all the time.

Leonard McCoy. It is not a good idea to get me started on Leonard unless you have a lot of time and are willing for me to go off on tangents, but as far as his Academy life goes, that's what I aspire towards. Bones joined up to Starfleet after what seems to have been a pretty rough divorce with his wife, and his accent clearly isn't from around the Academy at all, so he's come pretty far up from Georgia. He's terrified of space travel and hella older than his fellow students, than Jim, but he goes for it, he becomes a senior officer and is the best damn doctor they've got. I have this really nice image of him in their quarters, in the evening or something, working through his papers and stuff, trying to ignore Jim's whining about going to bars or something. Though while we're on the subject...

James Tiberius Kirk. He completed a four year course in three, he cheated in the Kobayashi Maru, the text that Spock designed to be unbeatable. He cheated to win it, because he doesn't believe in no-win cenarios. His confidence, self-belief and ability to not give a crap about whatever happened before Starfleet is a major inspiration to me, and I think the legacy of his name speaks for itself because if there's any hard-working Captain out there, it's Jim Kirk.

My Moony. Okay, so she isn't actually a character, she's totally real. But I still count her as one of the most inspirational things/people I know. Despite having anxiety before she knew it's name, despite hating everything about the educational system and coming up against it time and time again, she kept going through each course she chose and taught me that even if you feel like something's going to kill you, getting it done makes you feel better. Unless it's murder or something, though we haven't actually tested that one. So although your last in the list, min lilla banan, you're by no means at the bottom of it. Bet you were getting all sad because I hadn't mentioned you much.


If it wasn't already obvious, I tend to write lists/appreciation stuff whenever I'm trying to avoid doing something but want to feel productive about it. This has been one of those times. Thanks for putting up with my rambles.

Advice for secondary Sixth Form/High School

This is partly exactly what it looks like, but it's first hand experience. If this helps even one worried kid, I'll be happy. As it is, I wish somebody had told me this one year ago. So while this may seem I'm talking directly to you, the stressed and worried little student staring at my page (just humour me and pretend there is one of those), I'm sort of talking to myself, too. This is just one of those things that you need to see written down to get anywhere near believing it.

Here's the secret. Try to work hard.

It really isn't as easy as it sounds, I know that, trust me. I've always been a good student, sure, and so have people around me, but stuff starts building up, and you need to try to keep on top of it. Especially if you have other things going on in your life, too.

However, here comes the part your parents aren't going to agree with.

Follow your heart. If you want to take a break and watch a TV series, go for it. If reading high school AUs to feel like your favourite characters are going through the same issues as you, hell, I can point you to some rec lists.

If you want a night out, or to curl up with your favourite book or movie alone or with friends, please, do that. If it's a bad day, and you're really not up to doing any work, and there isn't a pressing deadline, take the time out. You'll feel better about it later.

Also, make sure you have a kick-ass music collection to hand if you need it. Some people prefer to work in silence, and if that's you, fine, whatever helps, but if you want motivating music, try out your favourite soundtracks, things like Pirates of the Carribean, or Iron Man. Or music you know so well it's a comfort.

Whatever helps.

My dad told me to step down the obsessions, because that was all I spoke about at home, but you know what? That's what helps me. I watch Supernatural, Superhero movies, Doctor Who, fucking Star Trek, and I take inspiration.

Right now, it helps for me to climb into my Science Blue Trek uniform, at my desk, to do my school work. Because let's me honest, you couldn't get onto the Enterprise without a lot of hard work, and everybody who owns one of those uniforms is important, gets their work done.

Of course, maybe what you prefer is reading the Harry Potter books, watching the films, pretending you're just a few steps away from Hogwarts, if you can get through this. Or you're on some muggle-exchange program. I get into habits sometimes of keeping my copy of Quidditch Through The Ages near my pillow, reading through it to remind me that world is right there.

Hell, watch Glee and pretend you're in the same school, that they're all your friends. Anything at all.

It helps me to pretend I'm working towards Starfleet, that I'll shape up and ship out out as soon as I get through this year. But try explaining that to somebody that doesn't understand how you love things, and then problems arise.

This doesn't just apply to this part of life, though. I guess it works on all levels. Do whatever helps, whatever makes you happy, because your work will suffer if you aren't happy. One of my best friends pretends he's on Shore Leave until the Enterprise is back up and running, to get him through his job.

I've got a hard year ahead of me, year 13 is tougher than year 12, and right now all I have to do is plan a 2 minute talk about a book I read and read through a blog I'm going to use for coursework, but sooner or later I'm going to have to really knuckle down, and so are you.

So good luck. You do you. You'll be just fine. You're doing great. And there's always someone nearby that sympathises with you.

The Mirror Of Erised

I'm going to take a pragmatic leap of faith and assume you all know what the Mirror of Erised is. If you don't, then you can abandon this post and go acquaint yourself with Harry Potter And The Philosopher's stone. If you can't be bothered with the whole thing, the few pages there are in comparison to the other books in the series, then just read that chapter, even though I'll probably judge you a little.

But sadly this post isn't about you, it's about me, a little. Apologies. You're welcome to talk to me or leave a comment though.

When Harry looks into the mirror, he sees his family, all smiling and looking out at him. Ron sees himself winning the cup, being head boy, basically filling the boots of his big brothers after the legacy they've forced upon him.

Me? Well that's what I've been wondering. If it shows us 'what we want, whatever we want', or whatever we believe would make us happiest of all, I think I'd be standing there, with my arms around Moony, staring right back. I'd be on Testosterone already, I'd have had surgery and maybe some awesome Will Graham styled stubble going on, and my hair - by now if it isn't obvious you should know I care a great deal for my hair - would be awesome. And at this point in time, we'd probably be in Starfleet getups. Like, Academy or the proper colours.

The thing I'm trying to say here, as well as giving an idea as to exactly what it is that makes me happy, is that all I really want, to be the happiest I can be, is to have my beloved at my side, to be allowed to transition and to be as far away from my family as possible. Space would be preferable. If not, I'll settle for London. Or Brighton or Sweden.

I can't help but wonder what Moony would see. But myself, it would probably be that. And then, once I get all that, I would look into the mirror and see myself exactly as I was.

You Should've Raised A Baby Girl, I Should've Been A Better Son

It seems Moony's family has accepted me fully as another one of the kids. Her mother, especially.

When we left the flat the other day Moony's mum grabbed her face gently and kissed her cheek, then immediately did it to me, and called us her darlings.

I made coffee for her both days this weekend because Moony was working long shifts so I didn't bother going along, and she called me a darling again. I pretty much skipped in a very unmanly fashion back to our bedroom.

Her grandpa called us his little ones at the hospital the other day when we first arrived, seeming so proud, and her brother hugs me, has a nickname for me. Calls us babies...

Her dad, well, he's difficult, kinda distant, not into hugs although I think we did once. It was weird.

And this is going to sound tragic, but I can't get over how good it feels to be loved so completely, to be called the right name consistently, to be accepted and appreciated. To have a mum that really cares and that I don't feel uncomfortable around, that I'm not always waiting for a trigger from.

What I'm pretty much trying to say, I guess, is that I wasn't lying when I said being here feels like being home.

Character Development.

I have always felt a deep, emotional  connection towards characters I admire and idolise. When I was a kid, suffering from nightmares on a near regular basis, I learnt to fall asleep imagining I was someone else, somewhere else. At the time, it was always Peter Pan in Neverland. As I grew up it became the Doctor, somewhere fantastic. Sherlock Holmes, in his rooms in Baker Street, Sirius Black in the Gryffindor tower.

Recently it became Bones on the Enterprise, trying to catch some sleep between shifts.

I used to play games in school, before I moved to my current forced home habitat, where I was always the Doctor in my group, or Freddie from Scooby-Doo (we were probably eight years old, and I stand by that Freddie is the best in the gang, I loved him). I kept up my role as the Time Lord when me and my best mate used to play in the quarries near my house just a few years ago. We created entire worlds for our versions of these characters, entire plots.

The point of this nostalgia is that being my heroes has forever been a passion of mine. It's why I love dressing up, why I never turn down an opportunity to write stories about them when it is offered to me. A couple of weeks ago I got involved with a bit of verbal sparring with my friend Ivan because he can do a passable Bones accent, coming from the same state, and it was one of the best spent hours I can remember not including all my time with Moony obvisly.

As well as that, I feel like the characters deserve this level of commitment. You can ask anyone, I'm incredibly invested in minor characters as well as the main heroes. Colin Creevey and Oliver Wood from Harry Potter being prime examples. I feel like they don't get enough attention but there's so much about them that can be explored. What's Colin's home life like? Is his dad the kind of muggle that is just as excited and baffled by the wizarding world as he is, or is he mostly confused by it? Did he buy Colin that old camera or has he always been interested in photography? And where's his mum? Other than Dennis, does he have siblings that might also have magical blood and what side did that blood come from? And what the hell is Dennis really like? Okay, maybe that's more than anyone has ever really wondered about him, but it matters to me because there seems to be so much there to learn.

To some people, characters are just there to find attractive or to watch without any real investment. But to me, the only time I'll ever feel satisfied with my emotions towards a character is when I can be them. Until I know them like I know myself.

It is because of this that I write as them, dress up as them, impersonate them, why we got the Star Trek video game so that we could be Jim and Spock fighting of the Gorn and saving the galaxy. And even though we completed it yesterday, we're going to play it again.

I guess the reason I'm writing this isn't to go on about my childhood, or to give you all a better insight as to the kind of person I am, because I hope that comes across with all my posts, given that I try my best to be as honest and personal as I can.

It's because some characters deserve more recognition. Some people need to better understand just how complex characters can be in well-written narratives.

This started because of a conversation I had with Ivan today, regarding our personal portrayals and thoughts towards Leonard "Bones" McCoy and Mr Spock. I hope he doesn't mind me sharing this, but it pretty much sums up what I have been trying to say this whole time. And is one of the reasons he means so much to me.

'The characters mean a lot to me. I get attached. We sit in my head and share secrets and life stories. I like to learn them as intimately as I would any real person, because they deserve to be portrayed as the round, full, complex characters they are. They're supposed to be people, after all, and people are so much more than what you can show of them in a show or a movie.'

While I'm here, this seems like a nice place to mention that this lovely guy has a blog where he's willing to write with anyone that's interested in trying it out. He's a lovely person, honestly.

It's like what my parents used to say, something that never really got away from me. They told me that I could have been an A* student, could have got into Oxford and Cambridge, if I hadn't let my obsessions rule me. But the thing is that I've never let my concentration on my studies really slip, and school just got more difficult. It's a common problem, that sixth form is always more difficult than kids expect, and we don't heed the warnings we are given. But I need the characters I love to keep me going. The amount of times I've used the incentive that 'this is what they would do', or 'what would they do' as a way to motivate me, to convince me that I'm doing the right thing. I sometimes wonder where I'd be without them.

Some people need to fall in love with characters, and to become them in order to better understand themselves. I'm just one of those people.