#(although- if anyone has any ideas/asks on what i should draw... im all ears..)

[its-haughty]

very normal about them

[sugako]

shortcut extended

college!yamaguchi x f!reader sum: req -  can you do a continuation of “shortcut” when y/n and tadashi get home? cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, overuse of the nickname “puppy”, oral (female receiving), fingering, slight breeding kink (see first part), (almost) creampie eating (but not really idk), pussyjob, reader overstimulation, unprotected sex, squirting, toy use, slight dacryphilia wc: 1.6k  a/n: i hope this was good, i honestly hit so many roadblocks while writing this and redid it so many times :’) also i will edit later im sorry in advance for errors

Yamaguchi’s hand that was clenched around your thigh was not helping you keep still. The shortcut back to your shared apartment was faster but far bumpier. Each little pothole jostling your knees that ached from being held together. When you glanced over at him the scarlet stain on his cheeks didn't disappoint. He was enjoying your current state just as much as you were, thoughts fully occupied with the fact that his cum was stuffed in your cunt. 

Upon arriving home, you hoped out of the car and he was immediately there, already dragging you up the steps to the door. Forced to jog to keep up, you felt a thick drip escape and rub between your thighs.

He slammed the door behind you, bringing you in for a harsh kiss. hands clawed at your back, making you arch against him. His cock, hard again, poked against you as you sighed into his lips.

"Wanna feel?" you ask him, silently pleading that he'll say yes. You take his wrist into your hand and push it toward the hem of your dress while he grins at you.

"Did you make a mess?" He scoffs with his fingers already tracing up your thighs. Your legs part so he can reach up. "You're all sticky, puppy, you should really get washed up now."

His fingertip brushes against your sensitive clit and you jolt. The sweet squish as he pushes a digit into you is glaringly loud in the silent room. He gleams at the feeling of his still warm cum leaking out of you.

“Why don’t you clean me up later, when we’re finished?” You challenge lightly.

He chuckles kindly, the lust-filled spark in his eyes dissipating into something a little softer for a moment. With gentle hands, he brought your face close to peck you on the tip of your nose and rest his forehead against yours.

“You’re assuming you get my cock again?” Soft lips brush against yours with his words. 

You reach forward enough to roughly palm at his already hard bulge through his pants. “I know I am.” It’s impossible to stop from smiling as his eyebrows knit. His hand wraps around your wrists to pull your hand away and drag you to the couch just past the entryway. 

“What happened to my sweet, little, oblivious puppy, huh?” He groans, pulling you into his lap. Before you can answer he’s already stripping your dress over your head. His lips messily attach to your neck, holding you down by your bare hips. 

“I know when you want me, Tadashi. Don’t really pay attention to anyone else.” You say through breathless sighs. Desperate to see more of skin, your own hands travel up his sweater. He pulls away from you for just a moment to let you pull it off him. As soon as it’s gone, dips his head down to your breasts, taking your nipple between his teeth. “Aah, ‘dashi, wait… don’t wanna make a mess on your pants.” With your legs spread over his toned thighs you can feel slick start to pool out between your legs. 

You glance down, eyeing the wet patch where your cunt had rested against his bulge. He leans back, unbuttoning and peeling his pants down, while you sit up just enough for him to kick them off with his underwear. 

“Better, puppy?” His cock nestles between your damp, throbbing heat, lips reattaching to your body.

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, rutting against him with the help of his hands that guide your hips. He moves you so your sitting on the couch and he kneels on the ground between your thighs. Cool air hits your cunt as his hands push open your legs. Teeth drag up the sensitive skin on the inside your thighs as he draws closer and closer to you. 

“So wet you don’t even have any of my cum left,” he pouts up at you before kissing your clit, “Next time, keep your word, puppy.” Before you can respond his tongue is lapping and pressing into your tight hole. He lifts your knees over his shoulders, pressing deeper against you. His tongue circles you clit, moaning with each little pant and twitch you give him. The vibrations and his tongue tighten the coil in your stomach. He knows your body so well he has you cumming on his tongue in minutes. 

Deprived of a good orgasm earlier, this one hits you like a ton of bricks. You whimper out his name, hips bucking against his face while he laps up all you have to give him. His fingers press into your still pulsing entrance, spreading you while he turns his attention to your thighs for a moment. 

Just as the haze from your high is dissipating he’s sucking on your clit again. “Mmm, taste so good, puppy.” His word reverberate through your head as you slump back into the cushions. The next one takes a little longer, but soon enough that same coil has wound back up and you’re at the edge. 

“Gonna cum!” You squeal as he curls and pumps his fingers into you. They brush purposefully against the delicate, spongey spot just inside of you, urging you to cum again. 

“Go ahead, cum on my face.” He groans, keeping his eyes hardened on the your already exhausted expression. You can’t help but hump against his face as you come undone under his mouth once again. “Good girl.”

With a small, dark chuckle he gets back up on the couch and pulls you over his lap again. He spreads your aching slit to sit just over his hard cock. Your clit brushes against his pink cockhead, sending a small jolt through your body. 

“S-sensitive, ‘dashi…” you slur out, mind reeling. 

“Oh, I know, puppy,” he coos, “but you can give me another one, right?” His tone is gentle, but demanding. 

“Yeah,” you pant out, trying to grind yourself against him. You want to cum again, but the sensitivity is sending little tears to the corners of your eyes. Your sensitive clit drags against the edge of his head over and over, desperate for release. He’s just barely guiding your hips to help you along as he stares up at your pretty form. 

“Shh, shh, you can do it, puppy.” He whispers, wiping a stray tear from your face. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until he had spoken up. Even so, his words drive you to rut against him just the slightest harder. Your thighs burn from the motion, but you’re getting closer and closer with every movement. 

When Yamaguchi’s hands leave your hip to massage your chest, you know you’re almost done. He can feel you getting close to with how your little motions had gotten sloppier and rougher. His fingernails dig into your waist to back from cumming as he feels your little hole flutter against his length. You pull him close, sighing into his neck, as your body twitches against his. 

“Good girl.” He strains out, pushing your exhausted body over to lay out on the couch. He kisses you on the cheek and hops up. “I’ll be right back, puppy, keep your fingers right here,” he says guiding your hand to your entrance, “and I’ll be right back.” 

You nod, unable to really speak, and slowly pump yout fingers into yourself. Even at a steady pace you were sure he could hear the wet noises from across the apartment. You’re eyes flutter shut in the moment of respite right before he bounds back into the living room and straddles you. He tosses something hard onto the floor beside the furniture, but you don’t have a chance to look before he’s moving your hand away and lining himself up. 

With the amount of slick between your thighs he slips in fairly easily, but your tight hole clenches down on him. Although he had stretched you out no more than thirty minutes ago, the stretch burns again. You say nothing, but whimper quietly below him. 

“I know, but you can take it, c’mon puppy.” He presses a sloppy kiss into your neck and pushes in the rest of the way. Thankfully, he allows you a moment to adjust before your racking your nails across his shoulders, silently telling him to move. Immediately, he complies, deeply thrusting into you. 

Just as you finally feel settled and comfortable again, he slows just to pick the thing off the ground. Your eyes widen at the vibrator, accidentally clenching around him at the idea of cumming again. 

“Gonna cum soon because you fucked yourself so well against my cock, but I want you to give me one more. Cum around my cock, pretty puppy, mmkay?” He stutters as he turns it on, not giving you a chance to answer before ghosting it over your puffy clit. 

“Y-yes, please!” You cry, hips thrusting up to receive more vibration. He smirks down at your quivering body and complies, using a little more pressure against you. While you moan beneath him, he increases his speed once more, knowing you’ll cum again in no time and wanting to cum with you. 

The vibrations and the way his cock presses deep inside of you send you to the edge quickly, but you know this is different. There’s more pressure in your abdomen building up and you find yourself unable to stop clenching around his quickly pistoning cock.

“T-ta-!” You manage to sputter out before the wave crashes over your body. A squirt around him just as his own hips twitch against yours. He sighs at the spray of cum against his torso, emptying his seed into you. Hot strings of cum filled your soaked cunt. 

“Y/N…” he groans as he ruts into you one final time. Your body has gone completely limp as he turns the vibe off and tosses it onto the couch, slumping against you as well. Cloudy silence hangs in the air as you both pant to catch your breath. As he softens he pulls out of you with a small sigh, keeping his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “Let’s actually get cleaned up now, okay?” He smiles and presses a single kiss just under your ear. 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

hi💕 did you get my ask yesterday? anyway it’s okay if you didn’t, i just got another idea because i’m feeling shitty today, what about chris and you liking each other but you don’t want to say anything because you don’t feel worthy of him so when he insinuates you just dismiss him and he thinks you don’t like him like super angsty but happy ending?

This one was fun, I hope I got that bit of angsty feel to it, while keeping it light hearted. If he ever told me he had feelings for me, I would be all adkfjakldfjqier HOT MESS. Lol. If you like this kind of theme, @jtargaryen18 has a great chapter one with this feel called Jealous Guy with Chris x Reader. Its so good! 

You looked at Chris as you popped open his fridge, and stuck your head in. “Buddy, if you are out of beer before this bbq even begins, can we even call it a bbq?” Straightening and looking at the thread bare shelves, you arch a brow. Did he even eat?

“Its out in the garage Y/N, trust me I know better then not to have beer.” He rolls his eyes at you, making burger patties and setting them on a platter, a splash of Worcester sauce, salt, pepper. Yea good enough. You make your way to the garage through the kitchens side door and grab two bottles. Okay, thats better. He had a full fridge in the garage, as well as the extras to bring out into the back yard when they go to set up.

Going back in, you make sure the door is firmly shut, outside was sweltering already, and you considered the idea that you all maybe should have extra ice on hand. “Yes I got plenty of ice to” Chris says with a grin as he rips off some saran wrap and covers the burgers before handing you the platter to place into his fridge.

“I promise, I only asked you here to hang out. I got all the rest covered." Chris moved to wash his hands and you hip check the fridge shut.

"Okay! Okay! I give! I'm here.... Only as a guest...."

He paused, knowing it was coming.

".... Who feels like she should help you get ready."

That earned you a hand towel being chucked at you, the two of you laughing as you both headed out to his patio, calling Dodger to join you two, and Chris snagged his sunglasses while waiting for his pup to join you two.

The two of you has been best friends for many years, it was an easy going, no expectation kinda deal. There we're times, you wanted to take it further, you knew those little over the top things he did privately for his girlfriend's, after all you had helped him brainstorm a few of them. But they were never for you, always the best friend, you weren't complaining. You valued this, but you wondered what it could have been like.

You were out of his league anyways, you knew that, he knew that. Life is what it is. These were your thoughts on the subject.

But the past year he pulled back from that scene. Seemed to focus on himself, what he wanted to accomplish after his Marvel stint. You had asked him a couple times if he was seeing anyone. Chris would just kind of shrug, become elusive in his answers. "He, I'm to busy"

Somehow you would never catch his glance your way when you would go back to what you were doing. He was not to busy, he was conflicted.

You were his best friend. He didn't want to ruin one of his most valued relationships by asking for more. Even if it could be the best thing in his life.

"When's everyone supposed to get here?" You ask, as you move over to sit on the edge of his in ground pool. Kicking off your flip flops and lowering to dip your toes in, and sinking your leg in as you sat down, careful with the glass bottle. He loped over next to you, already barefoot, he lowered next to you and took a drag before he set it next to yours.

"Couple hours yet, although Scott and Zach will probably be by sooner."

"They are so damn cute" you remarked, having just met Scotts boyfriend a few weeks ago when you were invited to a party they were throwing

Chris chuckled softly, watching Dodger on the other side of the pool, rubbing himself in the freshly cut grass, staining his white fur green. "They really are, and Scotts so happy, probably the happiest ive seen him in a long time." You picked up on that wistful note, glancing over at him and let your shoulder nudge him. "Did I just hear a note of longing Christopher, Mr. I like being a bachelor?"

You were only teasing, but he looked thoughtful at you, blue eyes scanning over your face, and you felt that all familiar tingle flushing the tops of your cheeks. Damn it y/n, check yourself woman.

"Well maybe, yea. I would like something more then the occasional fling, and just sex. But I'm not sure she be interested in me like that. We've never discussed it, and shes never necessarily hinted in more then what we got."

You, so completely not picking up on what he was really saying, cause in your mind, he couldn't ever be into you. "Well doofus, you have to tell her. Come on, your a catch Chris. Any woman would be happy with you, and with luck, she will make you happy to." You tipped back your bottle, the icy cold beer tingling your lips in that delicious way, your tongue would swipe along your bottom lip, Chris trying to keep himself from getting to distracted.

Playing with the neck of his bottle, he sloshed it a bit, and then set it aside before taking a drink from it. “Okay, I will. Y/N, what do you say, would you like to go out on a date with me?” You just about choked on your beer, sputtering and he reached over to tap his hand against your back. “Jesus Christ woman, breath!”

“You-you want to go out, with me? why in the world would you want to...?” Your voice drifted off, and Chris arched his brows, reaching out to take your hand, which you let him. Still shocked at his question.

“Really Y/N? You cant really be questioning why? Ive known you for years. We have fun together, you already know about all the risks that come to dating me. Youve never, wondered about what it would be like for us? Cause I have many times.”

“Well yea Chris, I mean... ive noticed, dont get me wrong. But im me... your you, it just...” You gave a shrug, not really wanting to say those words. Chris tilted his head, blue eyes searching for what you werent exactly spitting out, and shook his head.

“I dont get what you mean Y/N, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Come on Chris”pulling back your hand, you splashed your leg a bit while drawing it out, and wrapping your arm around it as you bent it, watching the water run down to the tips of your toes, suddenly they were fascinating, you could really just watch those droplets race away all day then to answer Chris’s question. But he wasnt backing down, and you could feel his incredibly blue in the sunshine, im innocent but also know what Im doing to you babes, eyes fucking staring at you. “You are so out of my league, Ive seen the woman youve dated in the past.”

Taken aback, his brows furrowed in frustration. “Thats bullshit Y/N, you think I would think anyone wouldnt deserve me cause I happen to make movies?” He went silent, contemplating what he wanted to say next. The fact that you felt that way about yourself just proved that he was going to have to show you how incredible you were. “Just a chance Y/N, if you have any feelings for me. Its all I ask for.” Turning back to you, he dipped his head to hover near yours.

Waiting for you to give an answer, your heart race cause he was that close. You could feel the soft breaths of air coming from his soft breaths and your eyes darted to those full lips, making your own throb with wanting to brush against them. But hes your friend, your mind screams and then a soft whisper. But he can be so much more.

It was all interrupted when Scott called from inside the house, and you pulled away, scooting back and moving to a stand, grabbing the emptied beer bottles. It was an excuse to get away from what you actually wanted to say. “Let me grab us another!” Racing away to go greet Scott, Chris lets his head falls into his hands, groaning. I was so close, and scared you away.

Scott busted through the door to find Chris pulling himself to a stand, catching the drawn look he had, he tilted his head “Out with it, I know that look, and thats the one you use when something is bugging you.”

“Nothing is wrong Scott” Chris lied, Dodger promptly coming over to greet his “uncle”, in which Scott immediately ruffled his ears. Not to be distracted though, he gave another spill it motion.

“Okay, if you MUST know Scott, I might have told Y/N I had feelings for her.”

Scotts eyes widened, and he grinned. “Well its about damn time Chris! You two have been dancing around each other for a year. Even Zach said we should just push you two together to kiss.”

“Yea well, it didnt go as I hoped.” His hand went up to the back of his neck, rubbing it. “She feels shes not in the same league? How is that even a worry.”

Scott shrugged and loped his arm over his brothers shoulder. “Hey, shes probably just nervous and caught her by surprise. Talk to her again after the party, and relax bro. Trust in your gut.” Chris wrinkled his brow as he listened to Scott, he made some good points. It was unexpected after all. He had certainly never hinted it before at you that he had any real interests. “Come on, let go see what those two are up to and finish setting up.”

Inside, you and Zach were dicing up some fruit they had brought for a fruit salad, having avoided bringing Chris that second beer, and Chris didnt remark on it once they came back inside. He smiled over at you and you glanced down right quick, moving to drop the strawberries in. Was it going to be awkward? Fuck you hoped not. But to your relief, there was no change. Everyone fell into an easy chatter, Chris went and started his grill, and before you all knew it, the party was underway with people showing up, bringing more food, games were played and most likely to much beer got consumed.

The evening started winding down, and you bid your goodbyes, touching Chris’s arm “So im going to head out, it was a great time, dont forget to drink some water before bed though. You will wake up with a headache.” A frown plays on his lips.

“Wait, your really leaving? I thought we could talk.” His eyes flashed hopeful at you, and honestly right now it was all more then you wanted to get into.

“Yea, I got an early morning and stuff I need to take care of.” White lies werent harmful, right?

“How about I come over tomorrow then?” He was still trying, one thing about Chris, once he set his mind to something, he rarely backed down.

“Text you, I promise!” You say a bit overly cheerfully and dart out the door, leaving him on his own once more. Digging out your keys, you escape to your car and pull out of his drive. Driving around, you ended up going nowhere near home, instead you drove around, trying to process your thoughts.

Why couldnt you Y/N? Dont you deserve some kind of happiness and youve always been attracted to him. Just always putting yourself down, you did that with your ex to. Here Chris was saying he had feelings beyond just friends and you ducked out the door before telling him that you might have as well for years.

This was how it went for a couple hours, getting dark you turned on your head lights, and before you realized where you were, your car pulled into Chris’s driveway, tapping your fingers on the wheel. His lights were still on, but everyones cars were gone. Were you really going to do this? Yes... Yes you are. Y/N, you have someone who wants to see if you two are meant to be something more, someone you actually care for as well. Stop holding back.

Going up the front steps, you consider letting yourself in, but you simply knock instead, twisting your fingers together. Dodgers bark emits, and you can hear Chris on the other side. “Hush boy, its okay. Back up buddy.” And then the click, he opened his door and a quirk of a smile folds up the corner of his mouth. “Hey.... “ You take a deep breath and step up to him, grasping his face in your hands, and sweep up to your toes to reach him. Why he have to be ridiculously tall? The sharp taste of beer and him flooded your senses, and his arm tilted around to brace you in close, holding back enough so you could control this kiss, it was yours, and he wasnt about to scare you off again.

Pulling back, you smooth your hands down to his shoulders, clearing your throat. “First of all, Chris you know I dont want to loose our friendship, second I want to see how good we could be. And third...”

Suddenly Scott appeared in the background, grinning wide. Apparently he didnt leave. “ITS ABOUT TIME YOU TWO!!!”

Cats out of the bag, you and Chris were going to see where this would go.

[cynicalrainbows]

The Next Best Thing Chapter 15

Catalina arrives early, when they’re still finishing the last of the birthday pancakes.

Anna is spreading Nutella with a surgeon's precision to ensure it covers her pancake right to the edges; Anne is running her fingers through a maple syrup puddle on the table and licking them. Baby Catherine is chewing on a bit of plain pancake in her highchair and Mary is putting the pan in the dishwasher. 

She’s only eating the strawberries but she aims a cuff at Anne when Anne asks if it’s because she’s on another diet and tells her to mind her own business. 

Anne subsides with a giggle and steals a spoonful of Nutella straight from the jar, whispering that Mary couldn’t fit into her new jeans when she tried them on last weekend. Mary’s face goes redder than the strawberries and she looks crosser than ever- but they’re interrupted by the doorbell.

 Cathy abandons her own pancake-face (with a Father Christmas beard of snowy white whipped cream- it looks excellent even though she’s not really that fond of the taste of whipped cream) when she hears Catalina’s voice in the hall doing the boring grown up Garden’s looking lovely, traffic, parking, price of petrol stuff that all grown ups seem incapable of not saying when they meet each other.

(She’s glad that when she sees Anne and her other friends, they can just jump right into talking about interesting things like books and television and whether rubbing two jelly aliens together and putting them in the freezer makes then make a tiny alien baby, and is it murder if your tamagotchi dies because you weren’t allowed to get down from Sunday Lunch to feed it, and is it true that if you swallow chewing gum, it ties up your stomach and kills you, and how it is that the chocolate in the bottom of a Cornetto manages to taste so much nicer than normal chocolate, and why is it that sharpening your pencil is boringboringboring when you’re in the middle of drawing a picture but really satisfying and fun when it means you get to stop doing handwriting practise to do it, and is it true that there was a boy in Year Four who stuck his whole finger into the teachers special electric pencil sharpener on a dare and had the tip of his finger sharpened away to nothing?)

She doesn’t quite have the courage to interrupt- but when Catalina sees her hovering in the doorway, she interrupts herself and stops agreeing with Anne’s Mum that the price of petrol is extortionate nowadays and gives Cathy such a big hug it lifts her right off her feet.

‘Mija!’

She lets herself cling tight for a moment and then lets go- she isn’t a baby after all, although there’s a little bit of her that wishes she was Kitty’s age so she could be picked up and cuddled properly. 

‘How are you?’

She nods. ‘I’m ok.’

Anne’s Mum does a bit lipsticky smile like a lady in an advert and asks if she slept well and she nods again. ‘Yes thank you.’

She hopes Catalina has mostly forgotten last night and doesn’t bring it up to Anne’s Mum.

(She knows grown ups can be so sneaky like that sometimes, sharing your secret things with one another and pretending they’re doing it for your own good.) 

She especially hopes that Anna won’t say anything- she hasn't yet but you never know, and even though Cathy doesnt think she’d say anything on purpose, she might just by mistake. She can’t even ask Anna to keep quiet because then Anne will hear and want to know what it is that Anna is meant to keep quiet about.

And Anne is terrible with secrets.

Not with keeping them, she’s actually very very good at withstanding all sorts of secret-spilling torture, even Chinese Burns, but with wanting to know other people’s. Once she knows them, she’s always perfectly happy to not tell anyone else, on pain of death- but Cathy still doesn't want to have to explain everything about last night to Anne. She doesn’t want Anne to think that she didn’t enjoy her birthday after all.

Anne’s Mum says that Catalina would be welcome to stay for a cup of coffee- or a Cappuccino or an Afogato even- but that the Photographer will be arriving soon. She says the word like photographer should have a capital letter.

Anne bobs up out of nowhere, licking Nutella from her fingers and asking what photographer and can’t Cathy and Anna stay to play a bit longer.

 Anne’s Mum hisses at her not to be silly, of course they can't stay and of course Anne knows who the photographer is, she’s told her all about it.

‘It’s for the birthday photoshoot.’ She adds to Catalina and Catalina nods politely and says it sounds lovely.

‘But it's not my birthday.’

‘Well, it'll be like a second birthday.’ Anne’s Mum’s smile is still there but it’s looking a bit forced now.

Anne seems to perk up a bit at the idea of a second birthday, and Cathy is just wondering if she’ll be allowed to have two birthdays two if this is now a Thing, when Anne pauses.

‘But then Cathy and Anna have to stay or it won't be a proper party!’

Anne’s Mum gives an impatient little sigh. ‘Of course it isn't a proper party! I do wish you'd listen- it's a photoshoot, like I said.’

‘But you just said it was my second birthday!’

‘For goodness sake Anne! I shouldn't have to explain every little thing to you- you’re eight now, you're not a baby!’

Anne scowls.

‘You’re going to say goodbye to Cathy nicely and then go and have a shower so you can be ready…. With any luck, your friend’s parents will be here soon too before the other children get here.’

Cathy wonders if Anne’s Mum has forgotten Anna’s name.

‘But if there are other children anyway, why can't I have Anna and Cathy?’

‘Well it's only fair!’ The smile falters and is hurriedly replaced. ‘They’ve come to the sleepover so we thought it would be nice to spread things around a bit and let your other friends be part of the photoshoot!’

It’s uncomfortable and horrible listening to Anne get scolded: it feels like there is something sad and grey making the air heavier.

Anne’s mum is scowling like she’s really really annoyed and she’s so glad that Catalina is not like Anne’s Mum and doesn't get cross when she asks questions- she knows if she was suddenly told she was having a photoshoot, she’d be asking even more questions than Anne.

Actually, she’s glad Catalina is not like Anne’s Mum, full stop.

‘Which other friends?’

Cathy wonders if maybe Anne has got some other girls from their class coming to play once she and Anna are gone, and it’s not a nice thought, but then Anne’s Mum starts saying names and she doesn’t recognise any of them.

‘-and Ingrid and Patience and Harriet-’

‘But I don't like them!’

‘Of course you do!’

Anne does an experimental single stamp of her foot; it’s like a challenge. ‘I hate them-’

They don’t hear the rest, because at that moment, Anna comes into the hall, looking confused at all the commotion, and Anne’s Mum sighs and seizes Anne by the wrist and tugs her further down the hall.

It’s all a bit awkward. Catalina is asking Anna how she is and if she had a nice time at the sleepover but she can’t listen properly, because really, all she can pay attention to is the cross sound of Anne’s Mum’s voice as she hisses things in Anne’s ear while she Anne squirms and whines and tries to pull away.

When they come back, Anne has stopped arguing.

‘What do we say?’

 ‘Thank you for coming, Cathy.’ 

She hates how Anne looks now, all sad and crumpled and flat. It's not at all how you should look on your birthday (or even the day after your birthday) and she has to hang onto Catalina’s hand tightly to stop her stomach from squeezing uncomfortably.

She can only manage a little ‘Thank you for inviting me’ in response, which doesn’t really feel like a good enough response considering it was her first sleepover ever, but Catalina squeezes her hand and then smiles warmly at Anne.

‘I hope you had a lovely birthday, carino. A photoshoot sounds like it will be lots of fun- im sure Cathy will be very excited to hear about it on Monday. I'm certainly interested in hearing about it!’

(She might be annoyed, at any other time, at Catalina calling Anne one of the names that’s really just for her- but she isn’t now. She just wants Anne to go back to looking normal and happy like she usually does.)

Catalina squeezes Cathy's hand again, and bit more firmly this time and she realises she’s meant to add something.

‘It'll be like being a celebrity…’ She’s not sure if she sounds very convincing so she tries harder. ‘You’re so lucky, Anne! Everyone at school will be so jealous!’

Anne’s Mum gives an approving nod and beams at her, and she turns her head so she doesn’t have to see it. Anne gives a very small reluctant smile. She doesn't say anything but she looks a tiny bit more cheerful as she goes up to shower, Anna trailing behind her.

They say another goodbye and thank you to Anne’s Mum and then they’re out onto the pavement.

She’s still holding onto Catalina’s hand but Catalina doesn’t seem to mind, she swings their joined hands between them.

‘So how was the sleepover? Did you have a lovely time mija?’

She nods.

‘What did you do? Did Anne like her present?’

‘She loved it. She said it was her second best favourite present.’

‘What was her first?’

Cathy describes the heelies and Catalina laughs. ‘Thank goodness! I was going to ask if you girls had had a fight, to get those bruises-’

Cathy twists her arm and notices for the first time the purply blue bruises blooming. 

‘It’s ok, they don’t hurt. I only fell over a bit. Anne fell over much more but that’s because she was trying to do a jump like the ice skaters on tv.’

‘Well I'm glad she liked her presents so much. Poor little thing.’

(Cathy isn’t sure why Catalina calls Anne poor- everyone at school, even the teachers, know that Anne’s parents have more money than sense. This means they’re rich.)

‘Anna thought my present was really good too. She said her present was really boring next to mine and she’d have to think up something more interesting next time.’

‘What did she get Anne?’

‘Jewelry making set. You can make earrings that you can wear even if you don’t have pierced ears.’ She hopscotches along the paving stones- it doesn’t really work like proper hopscotch though because they’re too close together. ‘Although Anna has her ears pierced already.’

(She’s a tiny bit jealous of Anna’s tiny gold studs- they look very cool. They’re not enough to make her want holes punched in her ears though, even the thought makes her feel a bit sick. Anne thinks she’s silly- she’d LOVE to have her ears pierced. 

She’s not allowed though, because ear piercings are one of the few things Anne’s Mum and Jane agree on, albeit for different reasons: Jane thinks Anne is much too young, Anne’s Mum says it’ll make her look common.

 Anne doesn’t think she’s too young, and she says that she doesn’t care about looking common because she wants to look cool...but neither Jane nor her Mum will budge.)

‘Did Anne like it?’

‘I think she did. She said that we could all make jewelry for the Inca Princess next time Anna and I came over to play. And then Anna cheered up a bit. I think she was worried Anne wouldn't like her present.’

Cathy doesn't feel like saying that she was also worried Anne wouldn't like her present. It feels funny also to be talking about Anna and not talking about the night before….but hopefully, it maybe means that Catalina has forgotten all about it.

She doesn’t bring it up on the walk home anyway- Catalina listens with great interest to an edited version of the story of the little attic girl, giving very appreciative gasps in all the right places and not interrupting even once to ask silly questions about whether or not the little girl has a swimming pool. 

‘That was an excellent story mija.’

‘Really?’ Catalina looks like she means it.

‘Wonderful- very imaginative. Makes me glad we don’t have an attic!’

Cathy giggles. ‘Anne said the little attic girl would come to my attic tonight and I reminded her that we didn’t have one and she said that next time, she was going to make up a story about a little girl who lived in a flat. Anna said it didn’t sound very scary.’

‘I suppose you’ll have to wait to hear it to know if it is or not.’

‘Anna said I should make up another story for next time.’

‘Well, I hope you’ll tell me if you think any more up, I’d love to hear them.’

‘Ok.’ Perhaps she’ll make up a story specially for Catalina- a special grown up story that has grown up things in it, like when they play Soap Opera in the playground and everyone plays that they’re having cancer and babies and cocktails. ‘It might be scary though.’

‘That's ok, mija. You have to let the muses guide you when you’re creating.’ 

Cathy knows all about the muses already- they’re spirity things that give you ideas and imagination when you’re doing art or writing, they’re what Catalina blames when she’s having trouble phrasing an idea for work.

(Not only are the muses very friendly to Artists of All Kinds, they are actually rather useful when it comes to the resultant mess of artistic endeavour.

Catalina introduced her to the concept on The Muses on her second week, the first time she’d tried painting in her new bedroom and coincidently the first time she’d made any actual serious mess there.

It hadn’t been her fault that the paint had spilled like it did and it hadn’t spilled much, but it had been enough to make her ponder what it would be like to see her godmother Properly Angry.

She hadn’t, until that moment, considered what a Properly Angry Catalina would look like. As she thought about it- and it wasn’t a terribly nice thought- she also realised that whatever form it took, there was nothing she could do about it. There wasn’t anywhere else for her to go. 

She wondered if, seeing the paint, Catalina would think about that too. She wondered if it would make her regret having to be the one to take care of her.

She’d never been scared of her godmother, but she was when Catalina saw the paint.

‘Ay dios mio, what IS that?’

She tucked her chin down into her chest. ‘Paint.’ Her voice is very small.

Catalina fanned her face. ‘I thought it was blood, I thought-’ She shakes her head hard, like she’s shaking thoughts away, then touches it and frowns. ‘It’s dried. Why didn’t you tell me before, it would have been easier to- Oh mija, it’s alright, don’t cry-’

She started looking guilty rather than annoyed.

Once Cathy was settled in her lap, scrubbing her sore eyes with a tissue and only hiccuping a little bit, Catalina had very nicely explained that while it was technically Cathy’s fault for spilling the paint, it was also her own fault for not telling Cathy to put down newspaper before she started painting and that maybe having a cream carpet was just asking for it, whatever that meant.

‘So perhaps it all balances out, querida.’

‘Are you really cross?’

‘Do I look really cross, mija?’

She considered. ‘No.’

‘Good, because I’m not. I know it wasn’t on purpose. Let’s just both try to remember the newspaper next time, ok?’

‘Ok.’

‘And we’ll blame the muses for this one.’

Once Catalina had explained about the muses, she’d said that they should probably get on with cleaning it up ‘before someone else sees it and thinks you’ve got a body hidden under your bed.’

She’d still felt a bit wobbly, when she thought about the stain. Catalina had given her a big cuddle and said that a little paint wasn’t the end of the world and that it would probably come right out. It turned out though that Catalina herself wasn’t really sure how to get paint out of carpet, so she’d gotten out her phone to check- ‘There’s no excuse for not finding things out nowadays, mija’- and she’d even let Cathy type the question into google herself.

The paint had come out on the second attempt, and Catalina had made her promise to always tell her right away if anything like that ever happened again.

So everything had worked out alright after all, even if she still hadn’t seen Catalina really, properly angry yet.)

*

Going back to the flat feels funny because it feels like coming home but everything also looks a little bit different- Catalina reassures her that it’s just how things feel sometimes after a trip.

‘It’ll go away mija’

Cathay still cant help looking around though. ‘Why are the books different?’

‘What’s that?’

Cathy points at the bookshelf- the spines are different colours.

‘Just felt like it was time for a little shuffle around, it makes me remember which books I haven’t looked at for a while.’

This makes sense.

It’s the middle of the morning: Catalina has a mug of the dark, rich coffee that she buys in little paper sacks from the special food shop in town. Cathy likes the smell but not the taste, although she hopes that will change when she grows up because coffee seems to be all that grownups drink. Coffee and wine, except she isn’t sure if she likes wine yet- Catalina lets her sip at her coffee when she asks but she hasn’t yet given in over Cathy’s requests to be allowed a taste of her merlot.

(‘Maybe when you’re nine or ten, mija. I just don’t dare any earlier, the harpies would tear me to pieces.’

Harpies is what Catalina calls the other mums at school; Cathy isn’t allowed to tell anyone that though, even Anne, on pain of every unpleasant torture, mi vida.

‘A glass?’

‘A sip. A very little sip. And not until you’re older, like I said.’

‘I could just not tell anyone.’ 

Cathy is quite good at not telling people things, she’s good at keeping secrets- which is why she doesn’t even give Catalina a list of some of her best, most well kept secrets to prove it- like how Anne spilt blue nail polish on the carpet in Mary’s bedroom and blamed it on Kitty even though it wasn’t exactly a lie because Kitty had been playing with it too and it really could just as easily been her and honestly, it would have been fairer, all things considered, for Kitty to be the one to spill it, considering she’s only little.

Catalina is shaking her head.

‘But I’m very good at keeping secrets!’

‘I know, mija-’

‘I didn’t tell my teacher that you did the last sum for me on my homework.’

Catalins gives her a stern look. ‘Good because as I recall, that was a deal we made so that you would go to bed and stop worrying about it.’

‘And I didn’t tell her. So you could let me try and I wouldn’t tell anyone.’

‘But wouldn’t it be a bit pointless if you couldn’t tell anyone? Wouldn’t you want to tell Anne?’

This is true- it’s actually a bit pointless if she can’t even tell Anne, although Anne surely doesn’t count as anyone- but she doesn’t want to weaken her position so she shakes her head steadfastly, and Catalina laughs and says she’ll be a wonderful lawyer when she’s older and gives her a kiss on the top of her head rather than a sip of wine.)

They have fancy twisty pastries with apricot jam and Cathy has a mug of warm frothy milk with a tiny bit of coffee in it, a pinch of cinnamon and a sprinkling of brown sugar. It doesn't matter that it’s not real coffee- it's much nicer than coffee anyway.

The coffee milk in the special china cup with her name on it, even though she’s already had one breakfast because Catalina had said she hadn’t eaten yet and did she think she could manage elevenses even if it wasn’t quite eleven?

She thought she probably could, having not finished her pancake and she was right. The apricot pastries are delicious; she thinks it’s what sunshine would taste like sunshine was spreadable. Catalina says that’s the best description of apricot jam she has ever heard.

She’s reading one of her library books- the last time Catalina had visited her, back when her parents were alive, she’d brought one of the series with her and read it aloud while they were waiting for lunch to be ready and she’d quite liked it, but now reading it for herself, she doesn’t recognise all the characters.

Catalina had read her a story about Juliana and Diane and George (who was really Georgina) and Anne and Timmy the Cat, who were cousins and had adventures on an island- but when she tries to read it for herself, the names are different and the children are different and it’s a dog not a cat, who keeps on licking everything and barking and it’s just not as good as before.

(She has no idea why the children decided to swap lovely clever Timmy the Cat for a horrible barky, licky, bitey dog. She thinks it was a bad decision.)

 She wonders if maybe she picked out something different.

Catalina has a big thick book that looks dusty.

‘What are you reading?’

‘Mmm?’ Catalina looks up and then nods as if she’s had to replay it in her head. ‘Oh!’ She says something in Spanish and then adds ‘But it’s called something else in English, of course.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘A little boy called Pip and all his adventures.’

‘What sort of adventures?’ She’s wondering if it will turn out that they’re the sort of adventures the children are having in her book and Catalina smiles.

‘No island, mija, you’d be disappointed. He meets an escaped prisoner out late one night and he helps him to cut off his chains and run away. And later he goes to a big old beautiful house, which has a room all ready for a wedding that never happened.’

‘That’s strange. If it never happened, then it’s not anything, so how can she have a room for it?’

‘They had everything ready but the groom didn’t turn up so the lady sits in her wedding dress next to her old cobwebby wedding cake all covered in dust and thinks about how sad she is.’

‘Oh.’ That sounds spooky but also interesting- she thinks maybe there’ll be an old cobwebby cake in her next scary story because for some reason, the idea of something that’s meant to be so happy being all forgotten and abandoned makes her feel shivery and she’s sure Anne and Anna will feel just the same way. Then she thinks of something else.

 ‘Why was he out at night at all? Not the prisoner but the little boy.’

Catalina looks uncomfortable for some reason. ‘I think he was just playing.’

‘But weren’t his parents worried about him?’

There’s a little pause and then Catalina says ‘He didn’t have any parents, querida.’

‘Oh. How old was he?’ Maybe the boy is nearly grown up, like in Secondary School.

‘Seven.’

She isn’t quite sure how she feels about that but she doesn’t feel like asking any more questions so there’s a little silence before Catalina says that she’s just finished the chapter.

‘I think I need a little break from reading.’ She puts her book down on the floor, face down. ‘Want to come and keep me company, mija?’

Cathy nods slowly and puts down her own book, except she uses a bookmark because she knows that’s the proper way to treat a book. 

(Catalina is hopeless with bookmarks and always refuses Cathy’s offers to lend her one.

‘I’d lose it in a moment mija, and then I would have so much guilt! But thank you, all the same.’

Cathy has big plans for when her class starts their textiles projects, in which Catalina’s poorly treated books AND her sad, bookmarkless state, feature quite heavily. But she’s keeping this a surprise.)

 She hasn’t finished her own chapter but she doesn’t like the way that these strange new characters keep telling George she isn’t allowed to do things because she’s a girl. She supposes it’s nice that Anne is allowed to cook- cooking on a real fire outside sounds very exciting- but she wonders if she ever gets tired of it.

‘It’s not the same as when you read it. They’re really horrible to George. And they don’t even have a cat anymore.’

She climbs up onto Catalina’s lap and Catalina wraps her arms around her.

‘I might have….changed some bits when I was reading it to you. I thought it would make the story better.’

‘It DID make the story better. Now it’s boring.’

Catalina considers. ‘I could try reading it to you my way if you like, querida.’

‘That’s ok. I think I’m going to take a break from reading too.’

‘Ok.’

Catalina cuddles her closer and for a while they just sit like that. She thinks about the little boy meeting the prisoner out at night, with no one to worry about him, but it’s not too bad to think about when she’s got Catalina’s cardigan tickling her cheek and Catalina’s chin resting on the top of her head. 

Maybe she’ll include a prisoner in her next story too. Maybe he could even team up with the little attic girl and they could go around scaring people and sewing up mouths together.

‘Did he have a godmother?’

‘Who?’

‘Pip. Oh- no, he didn’t. He had an older sister, he lived with her instead.’

‘Like Anne and Mary.’

‘Anne still has her parents, mija, you know that.’ But Catalina doesn’t sound so very certain when she says it.

There’s a little pause, and then Catalina quietly asks if she’d like to talk.

‘About what?’

‘About last night mija.’

‘What about last night?’

 She's being deliberately annoying but she can't help it because maybe if she carries on, Catalina will change her mind and they won’t have to talk about anything.

 She wouldn't even mind Catalina getting really cross (she doesn’t think), whatever really cross is for Catalina (because she still isn’t sure), but she doesn’t, just puts her book down and takes another sip of naslty bitter black coffee.

‘About the phone call we had.’ She pauses. ‘There's no need to look so worried querida- I promise you're not in trouble, I'm not going to tell you off- and we don't have to talk now if you really would rather not. It’s just that last night, we talked a bit about some of the things you were worried about. And about your mum and dad. I think it would be a good idea to talk about some of those things properly- not because i think it will fix them but….maybe it will make them a bit more ordinary to talk about them. And perhaps less scary. I don't know.’

She actually sounds a bit anxious, much less self assured than usual. Usually, Catalina talks like she knows exactly what she’s saying and why. Now she keeps stopping and starting, like she’s worried she’ll say something wrong.

‘I want you to feel like you can tell me anything- that there isn't anything you have to keep secret unless you want to. And you can always always talk to me. About anything you want. Ok?’

She nods. She wonders if Catalina really means anything- anything. 

‘Good, bad, sad, happy, whatever. And you can ask me anything, I don't want you to ever feel like you can't ask a question.’

Cathy thinks. ‘What if you can't tell me? What if it’s secret?’

Catalina smiles. ‘Then I will explain to you why I can’t tell you. But I won't be cross with you for asking, that’s the important thing. And I will always try to answer, if I can, alright?’

She nods again. ‘Will you tell the truth?’

‘Yes. It doesn't seem fair to ask you to be honest if I won’t be honest myself. And we do need to be honest with each other, mija. It's the only way.’

‘The only way for what?’

‘The only way to….keep our family going. Going smoothly, I mean. We’ll be a family whatever happens, of course, smooth or not.’

‘Are we a family?’ It’s a surprise to her- she’d sort of assumed that wasn't a word that applied to her any more, like Mother and Father and Parents.

‘Yes i think so.’ Catalina looks serious. ‘You and your Mum and Dad are still a family, of course. But you and I are a family too. At least I like to think we are. If that's ok with you of course.’

Cathy thinks about it. ‘If we’re a family, does that mean I have to call you Mum?’

Catalina looks shocked. ;Oh no! No, definitely not querida, I promise I'd never want to try and take your Mum’s name or place. I never at all meant that. I'm still your godmother- your Mum will always be your Mum. Not all families have a Mum and a Dad.’

‘Like in the story about Tango the Penguin.’ It’s a book she had when she was very little, but she can still remember the story.

‘Exactly.’ Actually, she thinks maybe Catalina sent her the book in the first place.

She could ask more questions about it- some that she’s mildly curious about, and some that she could probably make up if she felt like making this bit of the conversation stretch out longer...but she decides not too because Catalina is looking all anxious now and it's making her feel a bit guilty.

It’s alright- the thought of her and Catalina being a family is ok. She’d rather have Catalina for her family than anyone else, if she can't have mum and dad and she knows that she can't.

She wriggles into a more comfortable position in Catalina’s lap.

‘Ok. We can be a family.’

‘Good.’ Catalina smiles like she’s really relieved. ‘Good.’

After a while, she says, ‘There’s something I thought you might like to look at mija. I’ve been meaning to for a while and then last night, I thought of it.’

She stiffens slightly. She isn’t sure how she feels thinking about last night- one minute, the scary feeling seems very far away and all she can think about is stupid things like how babyish she must have sounded crying into the phone, and then the next, she can remember it very very well and it makes her feel shaky and sick, like she’s standing somewhere high and looking down. 

She buries her face into Catalina’s cardigan and then has to come back out because the fluff is making her sneeze and Catalina laughs and slides her gently off her lap and says she’ll be back in a moment.

She wraps both arms around her tummy, hugging herself and wondering what The Thing will be.

When Catalina comes back in, she’s holding an old shoebox.

[a-copper-butterfly]

Fanfic snippet

i did a thing

yeah i wrote something. this is like an idea that im building on, may be. i dont know. if you think i should continue this, like it.

Chapter 1: A visit from the Baron

world count : 2580

Charlie/Alistair  Husk/Angel Dust

Charlie pouted at Alistair as he laughed at his own joke the laugher track poured out of his mic. He turned around to look at her plan. Husk was trying to snack back the bottle she had used to weight the corner of the page down. Vaggie slapped his hand away. He growled at her. Angel leaned again the back across from Husk pretending not to listen to Charlie.

“well dear,” Alistair asked “what gotten you so excited?” Charlie Bounced on the spot. Ginning madly,

“we have to wait for Nifty, is a surprise for all of you,” Alistair smiled with hooded eyes and lifted his arm. Charlie reached out to stop him snagging his sleeve but not his hand. He snapped his fingers and a hole formed in the celling. Nifty shrieked as she fell though it. She quickly got up and zipped over to the group. Charlie tried to glower at Alistair for being mean but a sudden shout interrupted her.

“BOY!”

The shout echoed around the lobby and everyone stopped. Turning towards the sources of the sound. The door to the hotel was open and a cold wind blow through, which was impressive in it self as this was hell and noted for its hot climate.

A tall man stood in the door way. His Black suite was picked out with red highlights and a number of knickknacks hang from the red belt at his wait. They chimed mutely in a wind that blows behind him. The top hat on his head remined her of Alistair’s, but this one had feathers and what look like chicken bones stuck in it. It was ringed with small skulls. His skin was as black as night seeming to draw light in to it. This contrasted with the bright white skull that was pained on the top half of his face, leaving his lower jaw bare. His bony hands rested on a back cane in front of him it was topped with a silver skull. He was not from this place. The wide grin on his faces was more mischief than evil. The smell of cigars waffled through the room as his words died away. His eyes glowed like the fires of hell but Charlie knew no fire like it and they where locked on the little gathering by the desk. Namely Alistair’s red and pinstriped back.

The static that normal filled the air around Alistair has flat lined. The singe motional sound was more eerie than the normal crackle. His face was frozen in a smug grin but his eyes where unfocused. He hadn’t turned around at the shout.

Angel recovered first,

“who’s this flash looking Motherfu…” his sentence was cut short by Husk almost jumping over the bar to cover his mouth. The genuine fear on the bartenders faces stopped the Spider demon form struggling.

Vaggie already had her spear out but her eyes where darting form man in the door way to Alistair waiting to, although unwillingly, follow his lead. Nifty was clinging to her leg visibly shaking. Her one eye unblinking as it stared at the man.

Charily who was still holding Alistair’s sleeve frowned and looked up at him. He was still frozen. She was about to speak when the sudden sound of radio static picked up again.

Alistair whirled around arms thrown wide grin on his face but the audiences track on his mic was silent.

“Baron!” he exclaimed began to make his was over to the other man. There was a tension in his movement that Charlie had never seen before. “what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I bring you news, now are you gonna invite me in or are we gonna talk out in the cold all night?” the mans grin remained on his faces but his voice managed to send chill up Charlies back. Vaggie had pushed Nifty behind the bar with Husk and was inching in front of Angel and Charlie, she didn’t like this man ether. But that may also be because Alistair seemed to know him, not just the bad vibes he was giving off.

Then Alistair did something Charlie never though she would see. He bowed to the other man, a genuine bow not a flamboyant way of mocking him but a show of respect.

“Of course, Sir, you are always welcome here,” if it wasn’t for the amp on his voice the gang may not have heard that.

The so called “Baron” stepped though the threshold of the Hotel and a cold wind followed him.

“you got anywhere for us to chat, lad you’re not gonna like what I have to say,” The Baron didn’t remove his hat and he walked with a slight strut. His foot print left marks on the floor. Alistair’s ears flicked downward for half a second. But his grin remained I place,

“this way, we can sit in the study,” with a dramatic swish of his coat tails Alistair turned and began to lead the stranger to one of the smaller rooms on the ground floor.

The mans gin was still in places when he turned to the little group by the counter.

“bring the little lady,” he said like an after though, “this affects her as well.” he breezed past Alistair into the room.

Alistair looked over at Charly she could see his ears slightly twitching, she wondered what emotion he was trying to hide.

“Charlie my dear, would you come here for a moment please.” he called. Vaggie gave her the side eye, daring her to trot over to him like a good little puppy, Charlie shrugged sheepishly at her. As she slowly, to prove a point, walked over to Alistair she looked at the foot prints the Baron had left. it looked like dirt, lose, wet dirt fresh from the ground like he had just walked though a pile of earth. She frowned at the mess, Nifty would throw a fit over this. Then she remembered the way the small cleaner had cowered at the sight of the tall man, I think she if fine to leave it for now.

She scowled at Alistair as she slipped passed him into the room. Alistair closed the door behind her with a resounding thud. She suddenly felt trapped.

The Baron was reclining in a winged back chair facing them, his legs where crossed and Charlie could see the caked mud on his shiny black shoes. She pouted at the mess he had left leading up to the chair. Alistair walked further into the room his hands behind his back, his smirk in places. But now that they where out of the prying eye of the lobby his smugness was losing it strength. The Baron observed the two as Charlie was guided to a small sofa facing him. Alistair remained standing behind her laying a hand on her shoulder. The hand could be seen as comforting, reassuring her that he was with her in the situation but it could also be seen as stopping her form running.

“sweet heart may I introduces Baron Samedi,” he smiled sweetly at Charlie as he gestured at the newly named Baron Samedi, who smiled and gave her a friendly nod. “Baron may I introduces Princess Charlotte Magne of hell, and manager of this fine establishments.” The Baron Laughed out loud and Charlie tried to stop her polite smile form dropping,

“so you’re the one who came up with this kooky idea,” he slapped his thighs and threw his head back.

The laughed continued. Charlie was really struggling to keep a polite face on. A twitch from the hand on her shoulder made her look up at Alistair, his face hadn’t changed but the slight vibration running through his ears suggested he was getting very irritated with this man. Why he was showing restraint now was worrying.

As his laughing died down, the Baron he sat up stair in his chair.

“I though it was a little out of character for the lad, but it’s an interesting idea, redemption and all that. I myself am in the reincarnation business.” At this Charlie brighten up smiling widely and wiggling in her seat,

“really that’s amazing, how do you pick who gets reincarnated have you ever taken anyone form hell?” she had a hundred more questions on her tongue but Alistair tighten his gip on her shoulder and the Baron waving his hand made her stop. That hand may not have been for comfort alter all.

“but that not what I came here to talk about,” the Baron was staring at Alistair again, “I need to talk to you boy, but I’m not doing it when your covered in shadows,” Charlie felt the hand slip from her shoulder,

“Any way to change your mind?” she heard the demon next to her say, it was without his normal energy. the Baron leaned his elbows on his knees and shook his head. Charlie heard Alistair sigh,

“very well,” he said and suddenly the room was full of wind. It swept past her, blowing her hair everywhere. The shadows on the walls that flowed Alistair everywhere where being affected by this mystical gale as well. they writhed and snatched at nothingness before being dragged towards the door and out of the room. The baron just sat there unaffected by this. the light in the room flickered and then when out plunging the room into darkness.

Charly had to use both hands the swipe the hair out of her face when as quickly as it had started the gale stopped. She looked around her eyes not yet accustom to the dark. The hiss of a match being lit caught her attention the white skull on the Baron’s face was momentary illuminated by the flair of the match as he lit a fat cigar. He took a pull, the ember at the end lighting his faces again. It was then that Charlie noticed it, well rather noticed the lack of noise. The static that followed Alistair around much like his shadows was gone. She was shocked to find herself panicking, where was he. had the Baron done something to him. She could feel the panic turning into rage as she looked around franticly for Alistair. The cling of glass made her turn to one of the corners,

“Drink my dear?” it was Alistair’s voice but it was different. It didn’t have the chatty nature or volume it normally had, it was softer, less jarring and almost peace full. The relief that flooded her system nearly made her sag into the chair but she could still feel the Barons eyes on her in the gloom,

“Err, yes please,” she replied. There was a cling of glass a second time and she could feel the air around her move.

The Baron took another pull of his cigar lighting the small bubble by his face. A hand appeared holding a glass of what looked like whisky. The hand was pale and the cuff of a brown jacket covered the arm. No claws tipped its fingers, it jerked away form the light when the baron took the offered glass.

“why so shy boy?” he said a light chuckle in his voice. Charlie felt the hand on her shoulder again and nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up at where she though Alistair might be. Why was he being shy? What was he hiding? The hand slipped down her arm and lifted it at the elbow, he pressed a cold glass into her hand. Oh yes, her drink. she smiled up at Alistair his hands where a little colder than normal but she could feel the smooth skin where as she had only ever felt his gloves.

“thank you,” she muttered trying to make out his shape in the dark. she felt the sofa next to her dip as he sat down.

“with the grates respected Baron, Your Business?” The Baron was back to laughing again. Alistair’s voice was soothing like this but it was also unnerving, when she had gotten use to the static and the laughed track, just hearing his pure unaffected voice was strange. She took a sip of her drink, it was whisky, not her favour but she needed it at this point. Her eyes where gradually focusing in the dark room she looked over at the demon and noticed one thing. He didn’t have his ears.

“another blooded soul has dropped into my care,” the Baron said when he had finished laughing. Charlie could feel the tension pouring off Alistair now. The Baron seemed to know this but took a pull form his cigar again, “and another on the way,” Charlie could make out clear shaped now. The Baron had his legs over the arm of the chair and was blowing smoke up into the rafters. A measured breath from Alistair pulled her back to him,

“how old?” he asked quietly,

“the one here already or the one on her way?” The Baron asked all the mirth from his previous conversations had gone,

“both,” it was a short answer. The Baron shifted in his seat,

“the youngest had just seen her fifth summer, the oldest has seen about twelve,” another wave of smoke nearly made Charlie cough.

“curse form birth?” another short and to the point question.

“of course they are, boy, otherwise they would be no threat.” The creek of the Chair alerted Charlie to the Baron standing up. Alistair jumped up from next to her “Look, I’m only here to warn you. This isn’t my area I’m just the messenger here. So do what you think is best. Destroy them or whatever.” She could feel the Baron grin, “you’re always saying you would like more of a challenge. What better to challenge you than yourself” he began to laugh again.

The wind was back again. It was coming from the other direction this time. Charlie was nearly blown off the sofa. when she had pulled the hair out of her eyes again the lights where up and Alister was standing grinning at the Baron. The static was back. It was almost comforting.

“well Baron it has been a pleasure as always.” He bowed again as he said this. The Baron grinned,

“you should join us for a party at some point lad, the misses would love to see ya again,” he chucked “you can bring your princess, its been a while since the Guédé family have dined with royalty.”

He began to laugh louder this time. The wind whipped around his feet it seemed to be full of ash. It began to cover his body as he laughed before long he was completely enveloped in the ashy wind. The moment his laughter faded the wind stopped, dropping a layer of ash onto the carpet along with his muddy foot prints.

The Door was kicked open by Vaggie less than two seconds later. Nifty who seemed to have gotten over her fear zipped into the room, made a unholy screech and began to clean up the mess. Vaggie was beside Charlie,

“what happened? where is the creepy skull man?” Angel and Husk where wisely staying by the door. Alistair was still watching where the Baron had been. Abruptly he turned and walked out of the room pushing past the two men at the door.

“jeez what’s gotten into him?” Angel asked crossing his arms as he leaned on the door frame.

[krysalla-archive]

i could fall. - chapter 1

relationship: dick grayson x reader word count: 3k warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, allusions to death a/n: im probably gonna write a few more parts to this. like at most three more! here’s a playlist for the kind of vibes i was going for. and there is some mentions of events that happened in the new teen titans!! preview: You know you should have stopped the constant and almost compulsive like manner you looked at your phone after nine o’clock last night, but you just couldn’t. You’d only spent a few hours with Dick, but that was more than enough to get you hooked on him and his brilliant, sun dazzling smile, the easiness of conversation and the comforting nature he has.

masterlist

read on ao3 

commission me

Meeting him is hardly romantic, hardly the love at first sight meeting you dreamt of when you were young. And maybe it’s a little naive of you to think that that could have ever happened, the pause and catching each other's eyes, the world feeling like it was falling into place and the rush of adrenaline and heat before the calm finally comes. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. You feel indifferent towards him. He’s only a friend of a friend. And as much as you may love Donna, she has never played well as a matchmaker, which you have told her multiple times on her desperate attempts to pair you up with her friends. 

He sat next to you, and while you were neutral on him- and maybe a little aggressive at the idea of having to go out with another guy that Donna inevitably knows from her studio, you could admit- although begrudgingly- that he was indeed a very beautiful and attractive man. Dark hair that falls into his eyes, just a little messy, but not the messy of a man who just rolled out of bed, but a very relaxed and perfected looked of messiness. A sharp jaw and kissable lips, olive skin and maybe his most striking feature- the mismatching color of his eyes. One a deep brown and the other a clear blue. 

You resolve not to look at him too much throughout the night. You know it wouldn’t take much for him to break down the already crumbling wall of disinterest in him.

Donna glows across from you, but that may be from the help of the pretty woman that sits next to her. Another one of her models you are sure. You’re surrounded by so much beauty here and it makes you a little sick, and maybe you sink a little into yourself.

But of course, Donna notices. She clears her throat and smiles at you before turning to look at Dick, “Why don’t you tell us about your economics class?”

Kory laughs a little too loud, attracting the attention of everyone in the restaurant. Her laugh makes other people smile, despite the fact that if anyone else would have done this, they would have received glares. It must be the warmth that she practically radiates that keeps everyone from getting pissed at her. Donna falls suit in laughing, unable to keep the straight face while Dick grumbles next to you. 

You feel left out of it though, unsure if it’s something you should laugh at or be upset at. You appreciate Donna’s attempt to make you feel a little more comfortable, but she’s only made it worse.

“You tell someone you took econ once...” Dick crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. 

You take the opportunity to glance at him, only turning your head slightly, not wanting to put so much commitment or care into this. His bottom lip juts out in an exaggerated pout and brow knitted together. You could almost laugh at the expression. 

Just as you are about to look away, the five seconds you’d allow yourself to look at him, he meets your eyes and smiles a little hopelessly at you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks and ears, quickly looking to the menu that lies in front of you on the table.

It goes by in a blur, but maybe it’s because you drink so much water in an attempt to have a valid reason to leave the table every so often. The alcohol helps too.

You’re just on the right side of buzzed, and maybe you’ve let your guard down a little more than you usually like, but it’s okay because you’ve decided you like both Kory and Dick. Maybe not enough to seriously pursue a relationship with Dick, but enough to text Kory in the morning about your killer headache.

Donna and Kory say their goodbyes, waving and giggling as they pile into a cab outside of the restaurant, leaving you standing next to Dick. Suddenly, you feel a bit smaller, a little more aware of yourself as you stand there, hands stuffed in your pockets and a shiver running down your spine. 

“So,” you say, rolling on the balls of your feet, looking up at him and squinting at the halo of light around him from the street light.

“So,” Dick repeats.

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking for anything to say to him, but drawing a blank. You just weren’t meant for social situations like this. No wonder why you’re single and Donna is so worried about you.

“I should-”

“Could I-”

You just stare at each other, unsure of how to proceed. You’re burning up more than you were before. You cross your arms over your chest, shoulders squared, but he does the unexpected. He laughs. And it’s quite a pretty sound. You’d heard it while you were eating, but it was drowned out by the white noise of the other customers and by the own conversation between the four of you.

Dick makes a motion to tell you to keep going, but you shake your head. You would rather hear what he has to say before ending the night so young. Maybe it’s time to be unafraid of a little rejection and hope for something good instead of expecting the bad.

“Can I walk you home?” he rubs the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly.

You know it’s not real, but it feels like your heart is lifting in relief. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but this is better than whatever your mind could have thought of.

“Who says I wasn’t gonna take a cab? Little presumptuous of you, Richard,” you smile, brushing your hair out of your face, “I’d love to have the company.”

He lets out a breath, shoulders sagging and an easy smile pulling at his lips. You don’t think you’ve ever quite met a man like this, all the confidence in the world until it comes to something so simple.

“You can call me Dick,” he says as he offers an arm to you, but then looks a little lost at you, waiting on you to lead him in the right direction.

“Maybe,” you loop your arm through his and tug him towards your apartment, “But it seems a little dated, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but I can make jokes about my name that annoy my siblings.”

It takes you nearly two hours to get to your building even though you live two miles from the restaurant. You both get distracted. At first, it was a little cafe and he tempted you with hot drinks and conversation, a chance to get out of the cold night that you were both underprepared for. Dick had already given you his jacket and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side in an attempt to shield you from the cold. And although you figure that it’s too soon to even be that close with him, you welcome it. 

He tells you about his family- the crazy amount of siblings he has and the antics that come with it. He talks about school, his wandering in attempts to find what he wants to do, to break free from some kind of shadow that hangs over him. You can tell he’s holding things back, but wouldn’t you? It’s your first date with him, you wouldn’t be so keen on opening up too.

You’re surprised at how easy conversation flows between you like you’re old friends just catching up with each other. Everything just clicks together. 

Then you drag him into a corner store, craving something sweet and salty. Neither of you had actually eaten too much, too wrapped up in the way Donna and Kory talk, unable to tear yourselves away from the conversation, and the food wasn’t that good either.

You stand outside your door, a step above Dick, and you’re finally the same height as him. And all you can do is stare, unable to move or you just don’t want to, unwilling to let this night end even though you never wanted to come out when Donna pushed you out of your door. You’ll have to thank her later.

“So. This,” he glances up from his feet and looks you in the eyes. He looks about as eager as you are to part ways, “is goodnight.”

You nod halfheartedly, “I guess it is.”

“Can I call you tomorrow?” 

“You still call people?” you tilt your head, smiling a little at the absurdity of your response. You know you’re going to go over it in your head the moment you lay down in bed, wondering what would happen if you said something else.

“Yeah,” he shrugs and plays with his jacket that hangs over his arm, “It’s more personal.”

“Then yes. You can call me tomorrow.”

“Yeah? Okay. Great!” Dick laughs and rolls from his heels to his tiptoes, raising himself above you and then settling back to look you in the eyes, “Would it be too soon if I kissed you on the cheek?”

You scoff, “It would be disappointing if you didn’t.”

Dick beams and for a second, he doesn’t make a move, doesn’t commit to what he asked of you. He just stares, taking you in, and it makes you feel small again, like he’s able to see all your flaws right there even though the only lighting is a street lamp at the curb. You can’t breathe. It’s the anticipation, to feel him, skin against skin and really and truly feel his warmth on you. He moves, leaning close to you and turning his head just so, and it feels like slow motion. His lips leave a tender kiss on your cheek and you hope that he didn’t accidentally get a taste of your makeup. 

It’s warm and soft and you would say everything you imagined, but you didn’t imagine it, you don’t dream about it, any of this kind of stuff. You just never saw it happening to you, but feeling it, it’s like you can feel a piece of you missing. A piece that wants these small gestures in your life. 

You smile, shoulders sagging and body no longer tense. Dick looks so off, drifting away like he’s found his own cloud nine. His eyes look a little hazy, but that could be the poor lighting. His smile though, you can see that clear as day.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around you, noticing the chill as you step back from him.

“Goodnight,” he sounds breathless and looks hesitant to leave, but turns anyway, sparing one last glance over his shoulder before turning onto the sidewalk with his hands stuffed in his pockets and head held high.

You wait by your phone all day, constantly checking your phone, sneaking peeks at it throughout work, just to be sure you haven’t missed anything, any notifications. You only have a text from Donna. Not incredibly disappointing, but better than the average day. 

It might be a little pathetic, but you’re okay with that. Nobody is here to see it. He’s probably just as busy as anyone in college and a job is. It’s no big deal, you shouldn’t have even expected so much.

And when you go home, you wait, cell phone always within reaching distance.

This is just what you get for getting your hopes up.

Another full day goes by, and you know you shouldn’t have worked yourself up so hard over this guy. Maybe you should just tell Donna not to set you up with people anymore. There’s only so many times you wanted to be disappointed. At least Donna seems to be doing okay.

“Hey, hey, hon, Dick is just busy and trust me he is absolutely head over heels for you. I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen him respond that well to anyone I try to set him up with.”

“Oh, so I’m not the only one you do this to?” you try to make a little light of this, just to distract from the way that your heart speeds up at her words. He actually, really and truly likes you. Then again, that just might be Donna trying to make you feel better.

“Oh shush,” she clicks her tongue, “You’re thinking too hard about this.”

“I didn’t even- You can’t even see me!”

“Yeah, but I know you. And I know right now, you are sitting on that couch, bouncing your leg and wondering what the hell you were thinking and trying to lock all your feelings down and throw ‘em out a window before you get hurt by a man who was- is- obviously interested in you,” Donna laughs and her heels click on the ground, “You’re way too predictable. Please, do not go into a catatonic state before I get there.”

You huff and roll your eyes, “Okay, Donna.”

It’s only another half hour until she barges in, laughing and carrying bags of takeout and the very happy Kory following her in. It’s surprising to say the least, but you don’t mind.

“Sorry, babe. Kory was just wandering around-”

“I am still quite new to New York. I hope you don’t mind that I came here with Donna.”

You shake your head and wave them over to you, “I don’t mind in the slightest. It’s always good to have more people over, More opinions. Better times.”

“Am I not cutting it for you anymore?” Donna scoffs, setting down the bags of food and digging through them, “No food for you I guess.”

“Pfft, you know how much I love you,” you swipe the styrofoam container from her. She tosses a plastic bag of utensils and napkins to you. You mix up the curry in the container, frowning as you realize that you’ll actually have to talk about him, “Do you think Dick and I... do you think we hit it off? Or was I just imagining it?”

“Oh, hon,” she brushes her hair back and ties it into a ponytail, an old habit of hers, every time she eats, she ties her hair up, “You should have heard him. He thanked me for the double date.”

“He could have been sarcastic.”

“I’ve known Dick for a long time, babe, and trust me, this was the first time he didn’t leave in the middle of dinner with some BS excuse. He likes you.”

Kory looks between you and Donna and she sighs, “You humans are so careful with your emotions.”

Humans?

Donna gives her a stern look before turning to you, “She just means-”

“What I mean Donna, is that you are overcomplicating this whole thing. You shouldn’t be navigating this with your brain, but with your heart. There’s not enough time to be worrying about whether he wants to love you, whether it isn’t real because it could be taken away from you just like that,” she snaps her fingers and presses her lips into a thin line, “Enjoy the time even if it is still the beginning.”

“Wow, Kory that was... intense.”

Donna sets down her food and takes Kory’s hand in hers, running her thumb over Kory’s knuckles. You know you’re missing something here, once again, but you don’t interrupt, you just watch, taking in the faraway look in her green eyes. Which you now realize, have no pupils.

You wake up earlier than usual, with the sun in your eyes and your body feeling like it’s suffocating under the heavy blanket that was appropriate for the temperature when you fell into bed.

You know you should have stopped the constant and almost compulsive like manner you looked at your phone after nine o’clock last night, but you just couldn’t. You’d only spent a few hours with Dick, but that was more than enough to get you hooked on him and his brilliant, sun dazzling smile, the easiness of conversation and the comforting nature he has.

It’s a full minute that you spend contemplating turning your phone over and revealing any notifications. But you’re scared, and maybe a little nervous. God, you hope he wasn’t playing some game with you or said that he’d call you because he felt sorry for you and hope that you would forget about him.

Now you’re just being melodramatic.

You scroll through your notifications and most of them are from your coworker, complaining about her day. You almost give up right then, completely ready to try and get over him. And you almost miss the message, the missed call and one new voice message alert. 

Your heartbeat speeds up and you shake a little in excitement. Smiling widely to yourself, you slide it open and press it to your ear. The monotone voice that announces the new message actually sounds comforting, soothing the fact that you haven’t made up the chemistry between you, that the smiles and laughter you shared were real. You bite your lip as the message starts.

“Hey, so, sorry for calling you so late. I probably should have just texted you. Damn, you’re probably asleep. But anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier, I’m just getting home myself,” you hear the faint sound of a door slamming shut and Dick softly exhaling, “I was just wondering you were free for coffee on Tuesday. Just, uh, text or call me when you get this. Goodnight. Or good morning, I guess.”

You can’t even be mad about the fact that he called you four days after he said you would, you’re too excited about the fact that he did call.

@hhawkass @pyppenia @katiehawkeyebishop

[son-of-drogo]

Tried my hand at script writing. What do you think of Episode 2 of Mattimeo?

Int. Gatehouse-day

Matthias the Warrior stands South his back to the empty fireplace. Her is a sturdy mouse, about 28-30 seasons old. Although the table is set for breakfast, the food is untouched. Matthias is not relishing facing his wayward son.

A knock is heard, the camera pans to the door.

Matthias (O.S)

Come in, please.

Formole, a greying mole enters, nodding to Matthias and smiling until his beady eyes almost disappear.

Formole

Gudd morn to you'm, Mattwise, yurr. Uz moles diggin a cooker pit t'day. May'aps you'ud loik to 'elp?

Matthias

(Smiles fondly and pats his friend's back)

Thank you for the offer, Foremole. Unfortunately I have other more serious business to attend this morning. (There is a thump in the next room. Matthias's ear twitches) Hmm, that sounds like it in the next room, just getting out of bed. Will you excuse me?

Foremole

(Chuckles and shakes his head)

Hurr hurr, ee be a roight laddo, yurr Mattee. Doant wack 'im too 'ard now. (Exits)

Mattimeo

(Appears looking touseled and apprehensive)

Matthias

(Beckoning to his son)

Come on, Mattimeo.

Mattimeo glances hungrily at the breakfast table, but his attention quickly turns to his father.

Matthias

(Sternly)

Well, what have you got to say for yourself?

Mattimeo

(Mumbled)

M'sorry.

Matthias

(Crosses his arms)

I should hope so.

Mattimeo

(Mumbles a bit louder)

M'very sorry.

Matthias

Foremole says I should wack you. What do you think?

Mattimeo

M'very very sorry. 't won't happen again, Dad.

Matthias

(Shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, but lays a paw on his son's shoulder)

Matti, why do you do these things? You hurt us and got your friends into trouble. Why?

Matti

(Is unsure about what answer his father wants)

Matthias

(Watches his rebellious son for a moment before turning to take down a magnificent sword from above the fireplace. He offers it to his son)

Here Matti, see if you can wield it yet.

Matti

(Takes the sword with trembling paws and shining eyes. He tries to swing it twice, but he stumbles, pulled down to the floor by its weight.)

I can nearly swing it Father.

Matthias takes the sword and begins to perform what almost looks like a dance. Snicking the stalk from an Apple, slicing the bread without touching the table, carelessly flicking the rind off a wedge of cheese. He brought the sword up on a warrior's salute before bringing the blade to rest, point quivering, in the floor.

Mattimeo looks at his father with admiration.

Matthias

One day you will take my place, son. You will grow big and strong, and I will train you to use the sword like a real warrior. But it is only a sword. It will not make you a warrior just because you carry it. Weapons may be carried by those who are evil, dishonest, violent, or lazy. A true warrior is good, gentle, and honest. His bravery comes from within; he learns to conquer his fears and misdeeds. Do you understand?

Matti

(Nods)

Matthias

(Grows stern)

Good, I am glad you do. I will not wack you. I have never laid a paw on you and I don't plan on starting. However, you attacked Vitch and I will not have my son fighting. At first I thought I should not allow you to attend the feast...

Shock and disbelief crosses the young mouse's features.

Matthias

But I have decided that you may go, if you go straight to the kitchens. You must ask Friar Hugo to give you double the tasks he have Vitch. When you have finished, go and help your mother pick flowers until she says you are free. Understood?

Mattimeo it's shocked. He's never before been asked or ordered to perform any tasks.

Matthias watches his son's reaction, testing to see if he will show character or behave like a spoiled brat.

Matti

I will do as you have asked, Dad.

Matthias

(Clapping him on the back)

Good lad! That's the mark of a warrior in training, obedience. Off you go now!

Int. Great Hall- Day

Morning sunlight lances through the high Windows, light falls in soft pink relief to the floor of Great Hall. Mattimeo passes under a beam of light and the camera pans to follow him. As he passes the Tapestry of Martin the Warrior he stops abruptly. He turns, checking to see if someone is following him. There is no one.

CLOSE UP ON THE PICTURE OF MARTIN THE WARRIOR

Matti

(Draws close to the portrait)

I could feel you watching me, Martin. I'm on my way to do penance in the kitchens, you probably know that. I didn't mean to disobey my parents, but I had to fight Vitch because he said things about my dad. I couldn't allow him to insult my family. My dad wouldn't have punished me if he knew, but he's my dad. I can't explain things to him properly. You're different, Martin, you understand.

Martin's expression doesn't change.

Matti

(Shuffles his paws)

Sometimes you're just like Dad. Look, I'm sorry, I'll try to be a better mouse. I promise not to get in trouble anymore.

Mattimeo shuffles sulkily to the kitchens muttering.

Matti

I wish there was another Great War, I'd slow them. Huh! They'd be glad I could fight then. I wouldn't be sent off to scour pots then. They'd probably have to give me a medal or something.

The camera returns to Martin and his smile seems gentler. He seems to be watching the retreating figure of the young mouse.

Int. Kitchens-day

Friar Hugo is the fattest mouse on Redwall Abbey. He wears a white apron over his habit and always carries a dockleaf in his tail, which he used to fan himself, Rub on a scorched paw, or use as a visor to peer down into bubbling pots.

Matti waits for orders.

Hugo

(Checking the lists)

Hmm, let me see, that's six large raspberry seed cakes. We need four more. Brother Sedge, take that pot of cream off before it boils over! Sister Agnes, chop those onions and add the herbs to the woodland stew. Er, what's this? Ten flagons of strawberry cordial? We need twice as many. Nip down to the cellars, young Matti and fill more flagons. Have Ambrose Spike let you in.

Matti Is glad to be out of the hustle and bustle of the kitchens. He salutes the fat friar and runs of, dodging between the kitchen workers.

Int. Cellars-Day

Ambrose Spike is blowing foam from a bowl of October ale when Mattimeo comes up on him.

Matti

'Scuse me, please Friar Hugo sent me t-

The old hedgehog choked and sneezed as he whirled around.

Ambrose

(Rubbing at his snout)

Don't sneak up on me like that, lad. Hold still a moment will you.

(Drains the bowl and smacks his lips)

Harr, wunnerful! Though I do say it meself, no creature brews October ale like the Spike family. Now what can I do for you, mousey?

Matti

Friar says I've got to fill more flagons of strawberry cordial sir.

Ambrose

(Points down the hall)

Oh, right barrels are in the next section. The ones marked pink, flagons are against the wall as y' go in. Don't disturb the elderberry or Blackcurrant wine or they'll go cloudy.

The camera follows Matti. As he is waking info the next section he is hailed.

Tim

Psst, Matt, sssshhh, over here!

The twin churcmice, Tim and Tess, and Sam Squirrel are longing by the barrels of strawberry cordial.

Matti

(Tip toes over)

What are you doing down here?

Tess

(Stifles a giggle)

We slipped past Ambrose while he was dozing. Come and have some cold strawberry cordial, it's scrummy.

They prise a bung from the barrel and use hollow reeds to drink the sparkling juice.

Tess passes Matti a straw and he joins them.

Some time later Ambrose passes by to see the four youngsters filling the flagons.

Ambrose

(To himself)

Hmm. S' funny, there was only one of 'em here before.

Int. Kitchens-Day

The kitchen staff are working flat out now in preparation for the feast.

Hugo

(Fanning himself)

You there, Billum, can you dig me a nice neat tunnel through the middle of that big marrow?

Billum

Hurr, gaffer, oi serpintly can. Pervidin' oi can eat it as oi goes along.

Hugo

Righto, carry on. Oh there you are young Matti. Take your friends along to the larder. I want two small white cheeses flavored with sage, two large red cheeses with beechnut and rosemary, and one of the extra large yellow cheeses with acorn and apple bits. Be very careful how you roll the extra large yellow; don't go knocking anyone down or breaking furniture.

All four together

(Dash off whooping)

Hooray, we're going to roll cheeses!

Abbot Mordalfus, normally a dignified creature, appeared from behind a large cake, his whiskers festooned with cream and candied peel.

Hugo

(Dusting off his friend's face with the dockleaf)

Ha, there you are Alf. Well, how's the special Redwall Abbot's Cake coming along?

Mordalfus

(Chewing on some candied peel thoughtfully)

Very well, thank you Hugo. Though I still suspect it lacks something. What do you think?

Hugo

(Dips his dock leaf in the mixture and tastes it)

Hmm, I see what you mean, Alf. If I were you, I'd put some redcurrant jelly in to make it look more like an Abbot's Cake. Doesn't hurt to cheat a little. After all you're only going by Abbot Saxtus's recipe, and that's a matter of taste. Yes, put more redcurrant in and we'll name it Redcurrantwall Abbot Alf Cake.

Mordalfus

(Dusting flour off his paws, smiling proudly)

What a good idea. Hi there Matthias, where are you off to?

Matthias

(Carries two fishing lines and bait, he dodges a pair of moles pushing a trollyful of streaming muffins, calling across to Mordalfus)

Don't you remember, Abbot, we were supposed to be going fishing in the Abbey pond for our annual centerpiece?

Mordalfus

(Clapping a paw to his brow)

Goodness me, so I have. I'll be right with you Matthias.

Matthias

(Looks around the kitchen)

Friar Hugo, have you seen my son?

Hugo

(Chuckling)

Indeed I have, Matthias. The young feller's been a great help. Haha, I've sent him and his pals to roll cheeses out. That'll keep them busy. Constance is the only one strong enough to deal with the big yellow cheese that I've told them to roll out. Hahaha I'd love to see how they do that.

Matthias

Didn't laugh too soon, Basil Stag Hare had just arrived. I just let him in the main gate. He says he's been on a long patrol and hasn't had a decent meal in three sunrises. Oh, and he said to tell you he's appointed himself official sampler.

Matthias and the Abbot flee the kitchens as Hugo puffs up with indignation.

Hugo

(Outraged)

What? Never! I'm not having that retired regimental glutton feeding his face in my kitchens. Oh no! Why the skinny great windbag, he'll eat us out of store and larder before sunset! Oh my nerves I don't think I'll be able to stand it!

Ext. Abbey grounds

Cornflower and Mrs. Churchmou

[nyabi132-blog]

Unique Artist

Okay this is my first ROTG fanfiction, and well it’s not a prompt just something I thought of, and I love winter (even if I can’t go outside and play in the snow). It’s so pretty and I just love it so much.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Rise of the Guardians (not sure if I need this here, but just in case)

Jack has travelled a lot in his 300 years of impromptu isolation. He had the Wind to fly him any place it wanted to take him. He never cared where he went. He just let the Wind take him wherever he needed to go and spread a little snow. It wasn’t like he had any obligations anyway, his schedule was always free. So wherever Jack needed to spread his snowdays, the wind would take him there. He often circled the globe to do his rounds of said snow spreading, routes of which were agreed upon by the other three seasonal spirits.

Despite popular belief, they actually didn’t bother each other much. That isn’t to say they liked each other, but they had a respect for each other's work, because they had similar jobs, and did their seasonal bidding where it made sense. For example, the spirit of summer wouldn’t make it hot in the Himalayas and the spirit of winter wouldn’t make it snow in July, unless it was supposed to snow in certain areas. They wouldn’t get in each other’s way and if they happened to cross paths, they wouldn’t even blink at the other’s direction. Just keep going. It was pointless to fight, they were immortal anyway and they sort of needed one another to flow into the seasons correctly. Plus they all had their own ways of knowing where their magic needed to be spread, weather it be the clouds or the wind. They understood that sometimes their fellow seasonals had reasons for what they did where they did it. They weren’t so gung ho about their seasons that they’d hurt one another for it. So they would accept the rare occasion of snow in mid fall or a bit of heat in December.

Anyway, Jack spread winter and snow all over the world for a very long time. He’s seen almost every place there is to see. From snowy tundras, to deserts. Although he only passes through those at night, he can’t really take too much heat. All the natural landscapes were beautiful. Flowers and sunsets, and the night sky with all the twinkling stars. From silver linings to the sun hitting a glacier or the water or even his ice just right.

Not only that, but he also has seen modern culture develop. People were forever changing, and technology was evolving. As the years progressed, bigger and more modernized buildings and inventions were made. Watching cities be built and people go about their different lives. It’s amazing how none of them ever did the same exact thing everyday and a routine would never once be repeated exactly. There was always something different.

Just like two snowflakes were ever the same.

With so many references there never would be two of the same kind of snowflake. It was impossible for Jack to think of the same thing twice when he thought about one topic it would flurry into a billion things that associated with it.

Jack loved drawing them too, albeit he never had the time to make every little snowflake, just the ones he likes most. He’d draw them in the frost on a window or in a little never ending notebook he kept in his hoodie pocket. He’d never put words to the snowflake, because the drawing was enough. It was unique and it told exactly what or whom it was based off of.

It was also a way to spend the summer months when snow wasn’t often needed or when he just had nothing to do and was bored. He’d draw whatever was on his mind into a snowflake. It was a good way of remaining positive, or at least not brooding about his seemingly sempiternal loneliness.  

It became like a habit more than a hobby. As a winter spirit he was supposed to be cold and emotionless. Jack was a bit wayward though. He wasn’t so much cold and emotionless as he was fun and mischievous. But it wasn’t often that he expressed deep emotions with anyone, it was just his nature. But there were tell-tale signs of what he was actually feeling and people who knew him knew what they were. Like when he was bored he’d draw snowflakes.

But no one really knew him.

So when he was at the North Pole with nothing to do, because he’d already pranked the yetis one too many times today, and froze a bit too many elves for Phil’s liking - even though sometimes he was grateful for not having to deal with those delusional imbeciles. He was sent to an area in the globe room as to not disturb anyone and to wait for North.

It was late spring and he didn’t have much to do, and he didn’t want to be in a hot place, so North decided that he should come to the work shop and just relax there for a while. Keyword: decided. Jack really didn’t have a choice.

But the big man was now working on toys leaving Jack to his devices. Which didn’t turn out to be such a good idea, because it left many toys to be broken. Not enough to set the ever busy yetis behind schedule, but enough to have North reinforce punishment. North was not going to act like a parent, though he should, he never did. Jack was 300 years old and capable of taking care of himself, but when it came to his own work, he felt it acceptable to lay down some rules. Even if he secretly did find some pranks funny, if he messed up the work by accident consequences would be reinforced to make sure it didn’t happen again.

 He sat at the window sill and absently frosting the window beside him deciding to make another base snowflake. He sketched on the window sill and his frost made it fairly easy to erase and he made multiple angles in different patches of frost. He didn’t know what he was drawing but he’d know once he finished. When he finished a rough sketch on the windowsill, he transferred it to his never ending notebook so he could add details. Every so often trying the designs on the windows first, as to avoid most eraser marks on the paper.

He didn’t get to finish because he felt someone walk into the area he was currently occupying and he turned around. But instead of a large Russian, or fury beast, there was an anthropomorphic rabbit. That threw Jack a bit for a loop, but he guessed it wasn’t unnatural to see the rabbit here. It was a few weeks after Easter, and he could sometimes find the bunny hanging around North’s workshop for insight with his fellow guardian.

“Hey Bunny. What’s up?” Jack greeted casually and letting his notebook slip between him and the windowsill absently.

“I‘m ‘ere on b’half o’ North, ya gumby.” the rabbit said crossing his arms and standing a bit taller.

“ But it’s May. North can’t be busy.” Jack said and cocked his head in a curious jester.

“Do ya know how many toys ya broke, Frostbite?” Bunny continued ignoring Jack. So that’s what this was about. It was really not a big deal. He hadn’t seen the Russian after the incident, but he figured on of his furry helpers told him. Bunny must have been there when he did and when North decided to blow it off like he’d normally do, Bunny didn’t like it. The rabbit always had a way of staying on track, no matter what. North wouldn’t do anything in this situation, but Bunny would.

“As I said it’s May. It doesn’t matter now.” Jack said and nodded his head as if agreeing with himself and started to focus his attention back on his highly detailed snowflake. Though he missed Bunny’s indigent stare.

“That ain’t the problem.�� Bunny hopped a few steps forward. He wasn’t even sure that Jack was listening to him. “Ya could’ve set ‘im behind schedule.”

“And if I did, why isn’t he the one telling me off?” Jack asked not looking up from his notebook.  Bunny let his ears flatten against his head. Bunny swore he acted more like a 15 year old then a 317 year old.

“But what if it did? ‘e’d ‘ave ta fix the error and couldn’t come ‘ere ta tell ya off.” Bunny reasoned.

“It’s May.” Jack said again but distantly and half heartedly, he’d make this line just right- And just like that his notebook was yanked away by a furry paw.

“Hey!” he said and looked at the irritated bunny, “ I was doing something!” he said and stood up and grabbed his staff that was leaning against the wall and glared at the rabbit.

“Fer ye’re season?” The rabbits asked in a neutral voice.

“Well yeah, sort of.” Jack said like it was obvious. It really wasn’t, but he’s been working on that snowflake for well over an hour dammit. It’s not like it mattered though. No one actually cared what they looked like, it was just him who’d ever know what they truly looked like and represented. Bunny wasn’t ruining anything but his pride. And one and a half hours of drawing.

“Did I mess you up?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Why are ya so mad. It’s only May.” That made Jack stop. Bunny was trying to prove a point. And he did. Jack suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Okay, you proved your point. But I doubt North would want any of my help, I would offer it, but I’d probably make it worse. Then he’d really be behind. And for the record the season could’ve went on without that.” Jack said and Bunny raise a brow and looked at the book. “I mean I don’t need it, but I’m not finished yet so can I have it back.” Jack said rather then asked. He knew bunny would give it back. He wasn’t really paying attention to what the rabbit was doing as he turned back to the window sill.

“Are these snowflakes, Frostbite?” the rabbit asked and Jack swung around seeing Bunny flip through the pages of the incredibly detailed designs. Bunny would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, though he wouldn’t admit to any kind of talent, beside freezing stuff, the kid had. The detail in each one was insane. He looked up and the frost teen shrugged.

“I got bored.” the rabbit looked at him more which made him slightly uncomfortable. “It’s really nothing.” Then the rabbit spotted the planning in frost behind the winter spirit. In the temperatures at the North pole it wasn’t unbelievable that the frost stayed longer than usual.

“Fer nothing, it sure took a ton o’ planning, mate.” Bunny said matter of factly gesturing his head to the frost pictures behind him.

“I just didn’t want to get smudges on the paper.” Jack said because it was the truth. His lack of urgency made it easy to believe. Still deep down he was embarrassed someone had seen his private collection of ‘special snowflakes’.

“These are pretty detailed too. Must’ve taken some effort.” the rabbit raised a brow. It was pretty interesting, Jack’s comebacks weren’t as snarky as before. He wanted to see where this went.

Jack only shrugged “Not really. They aren’t really anything like yours or Norths.” Then Jack laughed a little, but there was no bitterness to it, or maybe a little. “Heck, no one even seems to care how they look.” There was some silence between the two for a bit then.

“North would take ya.” Bunny said, and it through Jack for a loop.

“Huh?” was all he could answer with a surprised and curious blick.

“North would like ye’re designs, mate.” Bunny rephrased “So do I.” he smirked at the shocked and disbelieving stare the frost teen was giving him. It was priceless seeing the usually carefree but guarded face so not.

“Wha- You don’t- it’s not-” If Bunny wasn’t getting a kick out of this before he sure was now. See the gracefully smug winter spirit trip over his words was a sight, and a funny one to someone who had a relationship with him like Bunny. He started to laugh and clutching his stomach.

“Wha? Bunny stop laughing! That was a joke right?” Bunny’s laughing died a bit after a while. He looked at the frost teen who had his eyes cast to the side. “You and North… wouldn’t really..?” He mumbled off the rest, but Bunny knew where it was going. In the three years he’s known the winter spirit - and like really known him - he could tell when a few things were off. But Bunny wasn’t much of a comforter, that wasn’t his type. So he tapped his foot twice and a rabbit hole opened beneath Jack and the unsuspecting teen fell through, he heard the indigent gasp and rolled his eyes with a smirk Bunny let himself fall through too.

When they emerged through the hole into the warren Jack seemed to have caught his balance again and gracefully landed on his staff balancing on the hook part.

“What was that for kangaroo?” Jack asked looking at the rabbit who just grabbed him by the hood and ignored the protests and threats of being frozen. He was finally placed down near the paintriver under a shady tree and there were paint brushes in a jar with some paints around it.

“What the heck! Why are we here?” Jack said head and eyes following the rabbit from his place on the grass as he sat next to him and Jack continued to glare at him.

“Would’ja quit complain’en, Frostbite.” the anthropomorphic rabbit said irritably and Jack promptly shut up. Bunny looked around for a second and picked up an egg. As he turned around Jack looked at him with an unamused look, which grew curious when the egg was placed in his hand. He looked back up at Bunny. “The paint brushes ‘re there an’ ys can use the paint river fer the colours you need and ya can mix it ‘ere.” The rabbit put a pallet in his hand that wasn’t holding the egg and pointed to the other materials and then sat down and picked up his own egg to start painting.

Jack’s face turned back to the unamused look and waited for Bunny to look up again.

“Somethin’ wrong, mate?” Bunny looked confused and raised a brow at the frost teen.

“Why are we here? What is this?” Jack said trying to keep his voice down which he had success in but the place where he was sitting was starting to frost over and it expanded.

“Snowflake, ye’re frosting the grass.” Bunny felt the need to point out and smirk.

“Okay, I’m upset. But you threw me down a hole and gave me a pallet and an egg with no context!” He didn’t like telling Bunny his emotions but there was no other way for the rabbit to know. It might’ve not been a big deal, but Jack didn’t like people knowing when he was upset when it actually mattered, because when it mattered the most it would just make others pity him and be upset that they wouldn’t know how to fix it. When it was trivial matters like this, he didn’t mind. He liked to think this was the worst of his problems, but it wasn’t and they both knew that. But they’d pretend for as long as they could.

“There ain’t no context needed, Snowflake.” Bunny smirked and went back to his egg. “Jus’ paint an egg.” Bunny paused to think for a second “Fer North.” he added

“North’s not upset.” Jack groaned.

“Okay, fer me.” Bunny said not looking up from his egg.

“Why would you be upset?” Jack asked irritably.

“Why does someone ‘ave to be upset fer ya ta do yer told?” if you listened closely you could hear the hint of exasperation.

“They don’t I just don’t see the point in this.” Jack mumbled. But they both knew the real reason, or at least Bunny did. Jack didn’t want anyone to be upset. He was the guardian of fun so obviously if no one was upset or sad he didn’t have anything to work with. Bunny understood that.

“‘kay, I’m upset yer talent’s ‘re wastin’ away in tha’ notebook no one’s gonna see.” Bunny said and Jack looked away a little and  Bunny sighed. “Jus’ paint an egg.”

“Just one egg?”

“Yeah, jus’ one.” Bunny agreed. And Jack picked up the paintbrush and started to paint. He decided to draw all the snowflakes that came to mind. Not anything special just to get it over with. He ambraid the background in blues, getting lighter as it went up and then in a darker blue and medium blue and white he painted snowflakes and as the background got lighter the snowflakes got small until about halfway up the egg they completely disappeared. They were fairly simple snowflakes, ones he could draw in seconds but none of them looked the same.

“There.” he showed the egg to the Easter Bunny himself and he smiled a little.

“Not bad, Frostbite.” Bunny smirked.

“Well, I told you I wasn’t good. It’s on you that you wasted one of your eggs.” Jack justified before he could be accused.

“I said they were good.” Bunny said with a bit of amusment.

“You said they weren’t bad.” Jack shot back.

“Which means they were good.”

“No.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No it’s not.”

Bunny rolled his eyes. “Listen, ye’re good at this.” Bunny got up and walked over to Jack and knelt beside him. “And people may not see ye’re snowflakes, but they aren’t any less pretty, Frostbite.” He handed back the notebook he’d taken earlier and went back to his spot. “Ye’re allowed ta stay and paint more.” Bunny said not looking at Jack and grabbing the egg he was working on instead.

And Jack did stay.

So yeah that’s that! Snowflakes are really really detailed and they are so small. People don’t appreciate how different they are, and in that sense snowflakes are just like people, and that’s cheesy because we’re all different. But also snowflakes are like everyday, that’s confusing but like think about it. Everyday you do something different, even if it’s a routine, something is always different. So each day is like a snowflake. Unique.

[ssugawarakoshii]

Random stuff no one cares about (fuck u jo)

@mysmoldarkfictionalsons told me to do this so it here it is 1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? Milk than cereal

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yes

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Pages of homework, pens, tickets, earphones

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Alone or with really little milk

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Yup

6: do you keep plants? Two cactus

7: do you name your plants? Nope

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Does editing count?

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yes

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? All three? But I’ll say side?

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? “Stitch”

12: what’s your favorite planet? Uranus

13: what’s something that made you smile today? Talking about 80s voltron with Ce

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? It’d be small, full of our stuff and a comfy sofa for us to cuddle

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! There is a planet that may be made entirely out of diamonds

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? Spaghetti carbonara

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? Rose gold/purple/blue

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. When they got drunk in the village party and they tried jumping to the river from the bridge and I had to take care of them all (I am the one to bring this up btw)

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? Kind of? And just random ideas and stuff (ok and also dates and shit)

20: what’s your favorite eye color? Green

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. It’s blue with starts on it and it’s completely destroyed by now, the zip doesn’t even work anymore and it’s all full of scratches rip

22: are you a morning person? Depends tbh

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Watch a movie/show/anime, read or edit

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? I think yes?

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? An old house… I don’t usually break into places

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? My Panama jack shoes rip

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? Berries

28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? When she’s nervous, Eva is always trying to grab someone’s hand without realising AND IT’S SO CUTE

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Yup

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I like socks, but not that much? In winter and all they’re great but in summer I prefer my feet to be free

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. A guy in the village party (again) kept following us around, so Angel went and asked him what happened. The guy then just turned around like half pouting and handed us his empty hand and was like “I wanted to give you cookies”. And we ran. The lesson is, kids, never drink or do drugs if you don’t want to end up like that man

33: what’s your fave pastry? Orejas de carnaval con chocolate

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? It was called Eric and it was a white dog with brown spots and it’s somewhere in my room, im pretty sure

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? Yeah but in the end I always end up using the most normal stuff

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? Oh wonder

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? Clean

38: tell us about your pet peeves! I hate it when people like crack their knuckles? Nope don’t do that in front of me I beg you. Also people that walk slow… move dammit

39: what color do you wear the most? Black

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? The chain my grandmother gave me for my communion. It has an image of virgin Maria as a child and my name engraved and she told me my grandfather had always wanted to give me a chain like that one

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? El laberinto de los espíritus

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! Not really

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Silvia…

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Like a week ago? Lmao it didn’t last long

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yup.. doesn’t mean they work

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Are you a son of Poseidon? Cause you got me all wet (I’m gonna go bury myself now)

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Cauliflower. Take it away

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? My biggest fear was the world suddenly ending… yep…. I was weird. Maybe it isn’t the same but yoU CAN’T TELL ME THAT ISN’T SCARY

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? Yes but I usually cant buy them which leads to the part where I can’t remember which one was the last I bought

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? Do snow globes count? I have some of them and I love them

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? I’m not mentioning the person but photograph

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? The glasses one? Is that from this year or last? Ah fuck it

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? No, yes, no, yes Weird af but strangely great

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? Grandma

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? Breaking a pencil (the thing we were discussing was that I didn’t have enough strength to break it okay so I got all hulk mode and broke it)

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? people that do a lot of hand gestures (they remind me of myself tho)

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? It makes me feel like a psycho murdered :’) nah kidding it makes me feel nostalgic AND WHO DOESN’T RE-ENACT THE LYRICS SMH

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? Jandro is the Vodka aunt and Jo is the wine mom (although she is Vodka but she is way more mom so fuck it)

59: what’s your favorite myth? Persephone’s myth or Icarus one

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? I love it and my fave authors (cause I can’t choose poems) are Bécquer, Góngora, Rubén Darío and Pablo Neruda

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? I’ve never given really stupid gifts? My gifts are good *gasps* and my cousin gave me a clown nose once

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Sometimes I drink orange juice

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I am very fussy and it’s the one thing I’ll always have tidy af

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Ugly grey ugh

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? Do my online friends count? Maybe?

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? It’d have blue and white that’s all I know

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Sleepy. That’s it.

68: what’s winter like where you live? Cold and grey but with snow tho

69: what are your favorite board games? To be honest I don’t know?

70: have you ever used a ouija board? Nah (I was going to, then backed down you see)

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? I don’t know, I’m more of a coffee girl

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? Yep

73: what are some of your worst habits? Biting my cheeks/lip until it bleeds and scratching my scalp and ears until it bleeds too (que sanguinolenta por favor)

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Love

75: tell us about your pets! A bird, his name is Winnie and he’s a little shit but I love him

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? Studying history

77: pink or yellow lemonade? Yellow (I’ve never had pink lol)

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? I’m neutral ground

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? Joana’s video for my birthday

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Violet and white and yes I chose it because they’re two of my faves colours there’s nothing feel about it

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Beer bottle

82: are/were you good in school? I am good thanks very much

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? Idk

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Idk

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? Yes and here’s a thing about me I cannot by the sake of my life choose favorites in anything don’t make me do it

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? Depends?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Tbh I’d say the Godfather (can’t really think of any other rn rip why do you put me in such compromises?)

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? No??

89: are you close to your parents? Meh

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. All I have to say is it has history, culture and it’s beautiful sorry I don’t want to make this long

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? Dublin lololol

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Drown it in cheese bitch give me all of it

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? Ponytail/bun

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? A classmate on the 28th

95: what are your plans for this weekend? Doing my Spanish project and editing

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Procrastination my dear

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? INFP, cancer, Ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? I’m not sure? Sometime in December with my father and yes

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Light by sleeping at last100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years into the future, I don’t want to relive my past thanks

I don’t have anyone to tag (my only friends are the tagger (fuck you) and the other person she tagged ( @nekolance why) So bye bye do it if you want to

[glopratchet]

Heel bash

Perfect beeing : an imprefect novel. The next day, you are on your way to the university with a small bag full of books and papers. You feel like you have been running all over town, but then again that is what this job does for you. The only thing keeping you from running amok in the streets is your fear of being caught by the police or some other authority figure who might not be as understanding as you would like about such actions. Angylph speaks and says "so what is this all about" You explain to him your situation and he seems very interested in it. He asks if you know anyone who might help you out. You say no, but Angylph points at one of the students sitting near you and says "that girl there is a student here too right? She could use some extra money." "since i prefer art bots instead of aborted babies, im going to assume you're referring to terease, and cant be legion. "when i read specutalive fiction" Just then, terease and the professor enter the room. Terease instantly notices you and walks towards the bottom of the steps leading up to where the professor is. By now angylph has moved into a corner away from everyone else obviously "engrossed" by a small experimental piece made by one of his fellow students. "alright here we go" you hear the professor mutter under his breath as he waits for everyone to quiet down. "let me sit back an attempt to figure all this out" he starts wit a chuckle, "well first of all it has to be said that this school is very proud of all of you. you have shown great promise in your respective fields especiallizing top graduates like terease here who graduated summaCum laude and to be honest would have finished much earlier had she not partaken in many of the University's arts programs." Everyone starts clapping at this point and the professor raises his hand for quiet. A sea of letters is called the spooge of Satan "and so it is with great pride in your accomplishments that the following students are also graduated." The professors lets out a long list of graduates names and tereases colapses from exhaustion and joy seconds before her name is called. You are, of course, one of the students called to receive a diploma. After nearly a full hour everyone gets their scholorships ready they begin to talk amongst themselves until the professor gets everyone's attention again. The who who clicks last is a stooge "on a completely different matter" he says "i know many of you come from far places, and some of you even farther than others so we have prepared a little party for you today" everyone starts applauding again until the prof holds up his hand for silence. Taking resposibility for your mistakes as we attempt to build a maze The story is told by multiverse explorer astral wylde as he naps during the last fateful trip through the red wave. The storys background is of little consequence to anyone outside astral, but describes the idea that life on most planets in a cataclysm called "the red wave" where upon every organism capable of mutating suddenly, violently and indefinitely until no earth-like quality exists. Its the eyes, ive seen them in my dreams. Now I must draw them. There are records stored in the city of astokhan on everything astral could tell us about the city during the red wave. There are floods of blood, violent uprisings and gory riots. Mothers kill babies, governments fall and deep dark secrets are revealed as everybodies darkest sides are exposed when god walked among them. The human population decreases at an alarming rate. But fortunately it is all worth it, for you see the survivors of the plague are transform into multidimensional beings that seemingly live forever. And during one of his less fuitful periods astral saw fit to return from whatever circle of hell he exists and tell us this story in a ottoman chamber aboard our fancy airship we were dragging him through space with... OOOhhh yes the main chamber should be pretty big Thats all for now folks, see you next time on... He decides to envision chains flowing from his control bracelets into the airship and ripping out a section of the exterior to form a bubble. This bubble is gently illuminated by a combination of weak sunlight and auroras. Meanwhile the skyship falls uncontrollably towards earth spewing fire and wreckage in its wake as it does "Now this you might find interesting" he grins. From the life of a beautiful painter he once knew Part 4 "An aurora occurs when our planet's magnetic field shifts sending energetic particles into the atmosphere producing light in the upper layers, often of a multi-colored hue." The university professor tells us with her droning voice, while we sit around our glowing orbs. "Multi-colored." I write on my note papers. We have these orbs that make everything look so pretty. Astral wydle because of his supernal nature is gifted with perfect memory recall and, although not wishing to brag, an above-average use of declarative sentences. But today he donates his notes to my forgetful brain and lets me jot down whatever I wish to on his perfectly organized pages. Last class we talked about cities that never slept because their streets always had a pulse even when it was long after midnight. And he remembers watching a video from mica metrological in his flamboyant style. A ghost-like aurora over midwest states caused an entire settlement's populace to never sleep again, causing anarchy and the eventual demise of their race. "It is beautiful" he wistfully whispers I supress a laugh by exhaling in his face. Talking about a thirty percent chance of rain that evening I'm still not sure if I find his obsession odd or admirable. Something starts beeping so I peep over his shoulder at the flashing orb and read "air pressure disturbance 1000 meters above current positoin expected te be 300 kph". Looking to the side I can make out a hovering 2 meter disc. He catch me looking and aims his orbs at it. The flashing light sequence continues and skyranch anthyging textual information morphs into readable english. He remembers being at the gory hole as innocent lives were taken. Somethign important must be there or about to happen, he moves his chair slightly turning his back on me as if I'm not even here. Our skyship/home an oversized oval ring with a four-story tall observatory protruding from it has been hovering over the same location for several hours now. These magnetic neareness warnings go off fairly often but I'm not complaining this means he gets distracted pretty easily. A progressive mid tier art gallery in a trendy section of beetriotle specializing in transluscultural fluidic modernism had been open and operating for just a few hours before it was randomly annihilated yesterday erasing the lives of 20 humans and 23 androgynous beings. Almost seemed like they were being targeted, but targets were not among the debris nor any recognizable body parts. Everything appearanted to have been vaporized. Enemy Agents? Turmoil of Zwordur Methodist Church faction? Maybe even unbelievers mercenaries? Known as the bridge of noise and surrounded by a metropolis, two statues were under construction yesterday now nothing but empty round pedestals of identical height. Atmospheric disturbance unusual for the time of day. I can see in his eyes that he is troubled by this event so I sit back tilt my chair and pretend to know nothing. But of all the things he could find interest in why this? There he first learns all of beetriot is laughing at triton arcage again for losing most of its citizens to a single weapon of mass destruction. It seems water is flammable terrifying. not even slunk defends his underfunded military insultingly claiming everything was just according to keikaku---military plan---and volunteerially offered no explanation at all. As he observes the details of a painting at show known as the triumph of the colored venus a bustling section of the city blows up. He counts exactly 2 seconds before the sound arrives. There were two reflections off the city walls before his ears detected the origin of the attack. Big buildings 50 yards to his right there is lots of thick grey stuff hanging in the air temperature has risen rapidly and there are flames on sides of nearby buildings. Knowing all this without even thinking he inaudibly shouts for everyone to take immediate cover and runs behind large marble barrier. That features a group of lesbian women of darker color trampling a pale woman or maybe a man with a shaved head. "Are you okay?", he asks her with concern on his face without looking at her. It hadn't occured to him that anyone else might have been close by until now. His ghostly helmeted head pivots to his right upon hearing her response. -----"Yes, but are you? You look half dead!" -----"Am fine, some soldier I am, getting old and slow" On the faces of a group of contempory news worthy white men carrying lots of camera equipment he recognizes the man he saved from execution yesterday. He was moving after all, I guess he was faking it. He closes his eyes for a few seconds until they are gone altogether and slowly gets up. -----"That was a pretty close call, I'm surprised you reacted so quickly." -----"Heh, I must be losing my touch too then, good thing..." By emerging twenty something artist cherp cherp quintuplets rush past him into the cloud of dust inspecting an 4 foot in diamater polished steel sculpture with attachment bolts flying towards them. Known for her delicate rococo style sculptures the smog turning golden by the sun reveals one of her famous twisted balusters. Otherwise known for being forever on the hunt for new material she was probably seconds away from being reduced to rubble just the same. Even regarding as an eyesore by many he lends a helping hand and takes a small detour. Always looking at your feet it has probably saved her life several times already so why would she accept his help if he tried again? He overhears saul saint nicodemous giving cherp cherp a critique of the piece which he knows would otherwise make her sad so waits. -----"I like it, but maybe move the middle one a little to the right?" -----"Ok"*snap*. -----"No, the other one.*sigh* That wasnt good either---oooo wait----let me help. With a group of other artist friends including a bullfighter, an owner of an erotica shop, a blonde painted girl and a famous male fictional character charging from all directions he waves them back for fear of getting trampled only after they refuse to listen. Perfect execution of an ideas persons suicide in the Gucci manner the sculpture has been perfect mounted on a pole with its own leg shattering it. "Excuse me an eye master I'm looking for Blim Blam would he be around" Katharsis gale the oldest of the group in mid fourties wearing various hats asks him with an engaging smile. "Errrrr... maybe moved in recently but I don't think he is in just now" -----"That's a shame I like his work so much....but I'll leave my card just in case. tell him, not to hesitate if he needs any thing." He says uplifting her spirits she beams brightly at him and waves as she walks away giving nick lazy eyes the entire time. Bransky bronze bright supermacy in her early thirties stand next to him and waits her turn. he remembers her paintings, not having been impressed by the subject matter of cute dumb superpowers though others found them amusing enough to frame and sell. He gives her a "go ahead" nod. -----"Looking for any available artist at this time?" -----"No!" -----"OK then...Word is you have been doing alot of writing lately?" Bransky and chirp standing sliently noding there heads in approval As saul saint goes on and on with bullshit language about destruction of the More nonsense on colonialism he dedicates more time destroying her ideas than praising them Then something incredible happens for once Chirp is second guessing SAINT's choices the verbal abuse he heaps of Blim-Blim. And everyone else. He disapproves of Blim-Blim's paintings, saying that while Blim-Blim might have a good eye (naturally, being an eye master) and an excellent grasping of color and shape, he hasn't got "anything to say" as an artist. An aspect of queer theory that has a giant middle finger up at the rules of heteronormative society. He says they can be sold if framed properly and placed in the right cafe, bar or hipster clothing store to attract the right demographic as easily as magnets. And other fashionable topics of art conflict and provocation that's prevalent in avant-garde places. Hopefully it garners some attention in his small once a decade show of retarded artist rejects sells nothing and passes into obscurity or sold to an idiot for over 5 times the price years later. Your very own degenerate art grant. During this time period you have been wanting to branch out with other ventures of your own as you start to resent SAINTS inclusion of All your publications in his book if he cant even help you get Blim-Blims art, website, connections and assistantship and your writings more noticed. At the end of the sanction you all gather for everyone to find out if they have been accepted or not, Anyone with a supermacy is clearly relaxed as they anticipate the results. You can sense the agitation of some of them who arent powerful enough to easily probe their minds. "Well, I've got the results, and I have some good news and some bad news," saint says, pausing for dramatic effect. Leaving the others shocked ,crestfallen oO( what....did my photo's not make it or what...damnit I knew the colors were too bright and obnoxious.. .) or gleeful "First, the bad news: You didniet get in. Now for the good news. You can all come in for free to see all the art at the exhibition this weekendand, ahem, leave your demos outside if you want!" While kat unable to control herself goes on a giggle fit super bradly focuses his eye beams on saul saint who feels the burn of a thousand suns intensified by 400 percent muttering angrily under his breath you all get up and leave one angry little man ranting as you all giggle like school girls at his bizarre sense of humor. some peoples kids "well that answers that, We're all going peashooting after this amazing art event that will no doubt solidify our social justice creative stronghold in this city" Saul and brankys backs away with out a retort in disgust and you spend your weekend having a great time and going through three bottles of peashooters were It was noted that hack had 9 kills with shrooms, kill coin flips to see who she shot, unhygenic had one, Yoona had two unfortunately Seline not at all Speaking of seline she asks if you will help her again next weekend The group heads for the wine bar wondering about the homeless nature of astral beings And wondering if he comes from the land of lixie dixie, a southern state mostly covered in stagnant water and thick forests. The dealer of gallery motions to cherp to come her way because she wants something You thank Yk TRACE : 0 There is no way around it. I need your help." "Oh? Well what can I do?" you respond. "I'm being sold," she scowls. Trace: 0 You initially think this is one of her usual dirty jokes, but her facial expression shows that she is quite serious. "Sold?" you clarify A collector is interested in buying her work, but he's requested that she be sold together with all of her equipment. The buy in for her includes her tools, sheet music, and instruments. Everything she knows is contained within that room, it would be impossible for her to go elsewhere without losing who she is. Although you're confident that she could easily create another identity elsewhere. Despite her mistrust of the new rulers of this barren realm, selling her seems like the easiest solution to this conflict.Tip: If you're logged in, your games are auto saved for you. You can find them by clicking "My Stuff"

[ecotone99]

[RF] Inhibitions make the man

Hey first time posting on Reddit, I wrote this story and just felt the need to share it. Feel free to leave any criticism positive or negative. Just thank you for reading

“Why are you sleeping, Tom?” were the last words I remember hearing before drifting off to a peaceful night sleep.

I begrudgingly woke up to intense screeching of my alarm clock, it sounded like when teachers used to scratch their witch like fingers down the chalkboard in order to get the attention of a class who was not prepared for the period as I was not prepared for another day in the machine. I went through the motions of my morning routine, gliding my feet along the floor in order to reach the next part of the day, to reach the next clog.

First put on the same clothes I’ve been wearing for weeks an off white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a belt I got from my father before he left me and my sisters. Next in the kitchen I drop two pieces of toast into the toaster knowing full well they will come out charred as a log in the fire just before it crumbles to ash. I pour my coffee into the mug, black as the black hole of a room I sleep my nights away in. My old beaten flip phone rings with my eldest sisters tone, ringing like an ear after gun has shot right next to it, without hesitation i send her to voicemail. I have no reason to listen to her ramble on about me seeing her and her kids. The toast shot out out of the toaster and falls on the floor the spring in the toaster shattering falling into the electronics burning out the circuit. I walk to pick up my toast from the floor to see a rat stealing one of the slices, with a sigh i pick up the remaining slice and put it one of my White Castle napkin ive been using as plates. Finally i'm ready to leave for my job as an accountant at the local bank.

I walk into work exactly on time as I do every day, but I hear a voice calling my name, I turn around to see nobody their and continue as I usually do. I once again hear my name in the distance like the echo of a dream you would have had months ago that you can't remember, but you know you had. I go to my desk and open my filing cabinet to get started to work only to find it filled with the ashes from the files, a loaded handgun, a rubber band filled with hundreds and a note saying “Had fun last night with my turn can't wait for the next one.” confused, and terrified I fall into my chair as if I had been frozen by ice and pushed backwards by a single finger. That’s when the voice I had heard outside returned, “I see you saw my note.” I do a full 360 spin in my chair to find who is their only to hear, “not going to see me out there, i'm in here” followed by quite snickering laugh.

“ Where are you!” I screamed as if I was speaking to someone on the other side of the building.

“You okay Tom?” asked a nearby coworker

“Don't let them think your crazy wouldn't want us to get stuck in an asylum would you?” whispered the voice.

“Fine, just tired.” I said in a hushed voice to the clog who pretended to care for me. He leaves walking down the same path in the office used by every person, walked down so often that there's clear footprints indented into the hardwood. “Who are you?” I cautiously asked not wanting to draw any more attention.

“ Don't you remember? You invited me out of the deepest cracks in your mind.” the voice spoke in a smug tone that clearly showed that although he did not control the body he was in control of the mind. “ im you, the you that's deep down i'm every dark impulse you have, every taboo you wish you could comite, I am the real you.”

“I don't want you here! What did you do?!? Where did you get the money and gun from?” I frantically asked wanting to know what the voice made me do the night before.

“Don't worry, the little old lady's family probably expected her to die soon anyway, besides now you can quite this job. I got you her money so no need to stay here and wallow in the collective sadness of this place.” the voice proclaimed with such vigor that my head began to throb.

The voice was right though the sadness in the workspace was like thick oil making everyone move efficiently but without hope for escape. In fear of submitting here and the voice doing whatever unspeakable things he wants i do as he says I walk to my bosses office unknowingly avoiding the footprints ive walked in so many times before. I tell my boss that I quite his hopeless job and left with a little birdy over my shoulder. Though I didn't want to admit it to the voice it felt good to leave on my own terms. I race to my office grab everything from my office that the voice left in fear of someone finding it and leave the building wondering what to do with my new found freedom, maybe i'll go and see my sister for the first time in years.

“Good idea” the voice boomed so loud in the back of my head that i collapsed.

I awoke over the fresh corpse of my beloved sister whom I'd tried to shut out of my like so many times. All she was ever trying to do was help me, comfort me maybe if I had let her in this never would have happened. The tears wouldn't stop flooding out my eyes like a damn that held back the entire Pacific ocean had broken all at once. I'd taken away my nieces mother, my father just left me and I never let my family back in but they just had their mother taken from them.

“Enjoying my handy work?” The voice sneered “Don't worry it wasn't brutal I just came in while she was making mac and cheese for when her kids get home in a while. She had just finished putting the water on the stove so i talked to her to by time for ot to boil then when it boiling was as rapid as the water pouring of niagara falls i shoved her face into the water until she drowned, all while her face burned and blistered. ”

Is this what I've become? I wanted to kill her just because she was reaching out, she hadn't done anything wrong ever she was the kindest soul I've ever met. It scared me that I would connect and she would just leave but that wasn't her plan she wanted to help me heal and now I killed her. I have to get rid of this voice before it takes over completely, but how do you get rid of something that only exist in your head? “Hey if I die you die to right? You live in my head so if I go so do you?” I said as I rush through tying a hangman's knot before I lose control

“But why would you want to do that?” The voice said but for the first time he sounded nervous “I do what you really want! You should love me!”

“Those impulses you claim I want to do aren't me, I never wanted my sister dead I just wanted to protect myself from her being gone! Now I don't need to protect myself because all I have is gone..” I slide rope over the steel beam exposed in her apartment securing it with a slip knot which I never thought I'd is when my dad taught it to me before he left, “...so you've shown me not to be scared and I'm not scared of you but I can't allow you to live even if it means I have to go with you.” I slide my head through the knot and the voice starts screaming.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do? You have a new chance at life without the ties of family, I've given you everything to make a new life won't you take it?” the voice asked as if he was trying to push me out the loop but it wouldn't work.

“I'm sorry sister, this is all my fault but I won't allow it to happen to anyone else…” my words trail off into the ray of sun coming through her window. I look into the light seeing how every life has purpose and I may have failed at mine but I can stop the voice from accomplishing it's. I accept that I must do this to keep everyone safe.

“WAIT… this isn't what I wanted for us, we we were supposed to do so much! You were supposed to accept me!” The voice screams, but it's voice fades for a second but then whispers its final words, ”So, this is fear.”

I kick the chair out from beneath me sending me and this voice, who's shown me everything I hate and love about myself, that it's not the dark impulses that make the man, everyone has those what makes the man is what he isn't willing to do.

submitted by /u/therealgavingayle [link] [comments] via Blogger http://bit.ly/2Hlsktq

[savingfairies-blog]

not a poem i wrote this cause its 1am and im bored

every day i set my alarm for 5:45am to allow myself a fake ‘lie in’ and then when it goes off i turn it off and go back to sleep and set another alarm which is usually 7. when i open my eyes its usually just before 7 and so i quickly turn the alarm off before it goes off, i don’t know why but the idea of an alarm going off after i have already woken up really bugs me and quite frankly i hate loud noises and abrupt deafening sounds, especially when i have just opened my damn eyes !!!? sometimes i think i must have died in a past life of being screamed at or another alternative life i would have probably drowned because the ocean scares the crap out of me but thats another story for another day. and so after i have switched the alarm off quickly before it goes off puts me in a bad mood all day, i usually, although i should take full advantage of waking up earlier, get back into bed and go back to sleep because after all i’ve still got time hunny. then i wake up to my mum or dad telling me to get up and asking why i haven’t moved yet and it’ll be like 7:30 and i’ll be like shit i have aprox 28 mins to get dressed to catch the bus at the bus stop 2 mins away for 8. so i dash out of bed like sonic the blue hedgehog and i sometimes think wow i’m way too hungry a gal gotta catch breakfast and make myself late which i’ll get into. so its usually two slices of lightly toasted bread with whatever chocolate coated cereal we got in with some water. i hate water, it tastes like weird, if you think water has no taste then i envy you cause i taste some weird taste every time i drink water from any tap, any bottle, any source. i take it upstairs and eat it on my bed cause it tastes better that way for some reason and it makes me feel more relaxed about being behind schedule. hate that word schedule like some people (like my dad) say shedule n i’m like wtf. shed? also an ugly arrangement of letters sorry schedule fans. and so i probably watch anderz which is a vlog channel on youtube by helen anderson and her life is a lot more interesting than mine so it spices things up a lil you know. and practically swallow my breakfast whole cause i’m in that much of a rush and then pick an outfit which takes me forever and turns out to look shit anyway lol kms and dash straight into the bathroom like sonic himself and go to the toilet for my routine wee and then wash my hands, brush my teeth, wet my face with warm water, put clearasil face wash on my face and then rinse it off with water again and then wash my hands again. because i have an addiction to washing my hands and i like to carry hand sanitiser with me wherever i go but its usually not enough because i like the feel of cold water splashing on my hands and hand sanitiser thats been sitting in the bottom of my above room temperature bag doesn’t quite compare. so then i put deodorant on and get all my fresh clothes on ya know the drill !!! and go sit on my phone again and continue to watch anderz vlogs and then see the time n think ooo i’m really living life on the edge here so i start to put makeup on my face and most of the time i don’t look at my face while putting it on because over the years i have grown accustomed to not liking my face at all for a various number of reasons and so i prefer to not look at it much ya no it really kills my vibe and i wanna feel like queen b not a rodent ok . i usually take a long time to get ready to then only look like a large poo emoji hahah !!! but then i chose my trainers that i’ve grown a little collection of and i set off for the bus feeling fine. after checking i have the correct £1.40 in my pocket so i don’t have to count it at the bus stop with a potential bus arriving or even worse, on the bus when i can feel peoples piercing eyes on me and i am terrible at counting money quickly sorry its not my fault you’re late for work deborah, i’m late myself and i can’t have the guilt of you too this gal already to emotionally unstable n i’m gunna collapse. i double check the change like seven times while i’m standing at the bus stop and keep a look out for the bus. one time i was at a bus stop (the other day actually) and because the bus stop is on a road just before a corner, you can never be sure when a bus is gunna come cause u can’t bloody see wtf who’s idea was this ?? and so whenever you hear a bus like engine roaring up, you gotta act fast. so i’m stood at the bus stop, a woman comes and stands behind me, cool i’m not alone whatever. a bus imitating noise comes along and i sure as hell move my ass fast from inside the shelter to outside of the hut where i get as close to the edge of the road to depart and climb on board of the bus. after aprox 3 seconds a truck flies past and i jump out of my knickers and back the hell up, i’m sure the woman thought i was straight up going to take my 19 years that morning, it didn’t happen. i feel a little silly, the bus comes, i’m running late like most days and by now i don’t even see the point in checking the time, i either make it or i don’t, looking makes it more real so i chose to do a timeless sprint from the bus station to the train station flying past everybody at, in my mind, 70mph. i feel like a bird flying through the air, by about 5 minutes into my power walk i feel like a penguin trying to fly and my shins start stabbing and feeling like they’re gunna snap off and because i’m in no form fit, i can’t breathe and this particularly day i was wearing heeled boots, bad move wtf you should have gone for one of my nice selection of trainers silly. i speed round a corner feeling good and like lightning and then my ankle swerves on an uneven pavement piece (wtf ?!!!) and i nearly fall on to a bunch of 16 year old middlesbrough college sport boys. its embarrassing but i’m already red from the flight. i run up the stairs going light headed and get on my train with 2 minutes to spare. i couldn’t breathe but it was brilliant, i did it. the train usually sets off like 5 mins later than 32 minutes past 8 as it should. i don’t mind much, in fact i couldn’t care less. i then proceed to pant and break into a mild sweat and because i’m an idiot, i never pack water and so i dehydrate but least i’m gunna make it to uni right? so i put my bag on the seat next to me and put my earphones in because i don’t have any friends as you will probably realise lol. i put a bit of kanye on or something like that, maybe london grammar if i’m feeling suicidal or feeling like i’m gunna die from a heart attack because of the exercise, i’d wanna go out to something nice like that ya know. train trugs along, thornaby, stockton, billingham, seaton carew and then hartlepool. it goes on further to better places like cool newcastle but stops there for me like most things in my life hehe !! so then i get off and power walk into the uni building with kanye or something blasting down my ear canals making me feel like a full blown g. i often forget my uni card so the g stops usually at the door where i stand pondering how the hell i’m gunna get in and if i’m ever gunna make it. usually someone comes and then they have a card and so its cool, i get up the stairs and go into the room where the magic happens lol jk. nothing happens here in the story for like ¾ hours cause i just sit by myself occasionally doing some work while taking breaks of staring into space because not many acknowledge me haha :) i then realise nothing will literally happen if i just leave, so then i go home again, sometimes after an hour lol i just hate it. i like the course, i love drawing even though i can’t really draw anything but apart from that i just wish the train would be completely late :) so i repeat the travelling process but in reverse and get home for like 2/3. i then go on the computer often playing sims and then get a shower and get my pyjamas on and get into bed. i don’t talk to anyone apart from my family all day every day :) my friends have dropped me which is ya know a bit disheartening but you can’t persuade someone to like you so i’ve just left them to it. i’m alone now and i’m depressed. my days are just slow but racing past and everything is going downhill by the second. 2016 was shit. hope 2017 isn’t or i dunno what i’m gunna do. i have my friend Shannon, she’s like my bestfriend but its a bit poo cause shes in uni so its hard to get to see her much but im going to manchester to see her for a weekend next week and we’re going to see jeremy kyle live so thats funny, i actually can’t wait. But the rest is drab and i hope for change and i hope i find some friends around here haha