#not sure if thatll be the title when i finally finish it but thats the current title

[frankiebirds]

i know the majority of people if not everyone follows me for cm content but uhhh atla wip excerpt :)

zuko referring to himself in his narration as "the banished prince" and Katara as "the Avatar's waterbending teacher" because on some level he still doesn't view himself as being part of the group...raaaah.

[morsenerboy]

An original story that has no title

Im sorry if y'all read this and catch a bunch of mistakes,, ive read over it a bunch of times for consistency errors and stuff of that sorts.

I also want to put out a trigger warning on this for ((SH, SH mention, ED mention)). Please let me know if theres more.

I slammed my foot into the brake pedal. My car skidded. It flippes a u turn and nearly flipped me into a ditch. Tears clouded my sight as i punched the steering wheel. The smell of burning rubber surrounded my car. I sat in the dust enveloped car until it settled down. I opened the door and stepped out into the dry desert air. I walked over to the boot. I popped the trunk and pulled out a blanket. I wrapped it around myself before leaning on my car. I looked up at the night sky. Thousands of little stars decorated the sky like holes in an inky black backdrop. I took a deep breath and got into the back of my car. I pulled out the simple airpump and air matress for a car seat and hooked them up. The air pump made a horrible ruckus whenever it ran. I just went back to stargazing. The back car door was still open as i reclined closer to the boot. I raked my fingers through my hair. I absently rubbed my fingertips over my scars. The many pink and white lines that decorated my forearm told stories. I liked to reread them over and over again until i felt hollow. But this time.. this time i just ghosted over the words, not reading the paragraphs but merely skimming over the pages. Words echoed around my head as pieces of the story splayed out in front of me. Chapters or sentances on repeat for hours. I checked on the filling mattress. It was near done. I closed my eyes, sleep deprivation finally setting in. I turned the pump off and closed the valve on the big sack of air in my back seat. I got in on top of it and closed the door. I locked all my windows and doors then layed down. I closed my eyes. I opened my eyes and saw the colors of the sunrise. I sighed and threw opened the door. I opened the valve on the bed and emptied it of its air. I shoved the pump and the mattress into the foot space of the back seat. I opened the trunk and rifled through my bag for new clothes. I found a t-shirt a few sizes too large and decided to keep my pants on. I pulled off my shirt and tugged on the new one. I slammed the boot closed and got back into the drivers seat. I turned my key in the ignition and pressed the gas. I needed to stop for gas, and soon. I began driving and found the main road again in a few mere moments. I obeyed the traffic laws as i rode up to a gas station. I got out and paid in cash to fill my tank. I grabbed breakfast. An energy drink and a half dozen of donuts. The worker manning the register looked at me odd. Maybe because I look pathetic. My dark brown curls trapped in a bun, inevitable dark circles around my eyes, trashy clothes and a silence that gave people chills. I looked at the guy with quiet grey eyes as i bought my stuff. My body felt sluggish as i walked back to my car. I put the donuts in the passenger seat and grabbed one. I cracked open the drink and downed half of it in one go. I carelessly shoved a donut down my throat. I went for another but stopped when i saw my scarred wrist. I snorted and got back into the seat. I pulled out of the station lot and drove off. Id likely never see this place again. I sighed. I reached over to the dial on my radio and turned it onto a classic rock station. Music filled the car and I relaxed into my seat. I sang along to the lyrics that i knew and played the beat on my steering wheel if i didnt know the song. This is how i was supposed to live. Free. Wings outstretched against the blinding sun. Everything i needed stuffed into my car. No one place for too long. Perfection. I drove into a new city. I opened my wallet and what i saw made me grimmace. Id have to stay in this place for a while to get some money back before taking to the road again. I found my way to a rv home rental place and parked in the lot. I opened my door and took a step out. I locked my doors with the keyfob. I walked into the run down rental office. I pulled my hair out of the bun and let it frame my face gently. I tucked a strand behind my ear before ringing a bell on the counter. A stocky woman walked up and eyed me.      “Whats the price?” I asked quietly. My voice sonded strange to myself. Like a mix of rough gravel road with a crushed velvet throw. The stocky woman looked me over.      “How old are you, kid?” She asked, leaning on the counter top and getting too close for comfort.      “Eighteen, ma'am. How much?” I said, standing my ground.      “For a kid like you itll be two hundred a month.” She said, standing back up. I pulled out my wallet. I fished out two hundred dollars and set it on the counter.      “Thank you, ma'am. Id like to rent.” I said, running my fingers over a cross-esque shaped scar spanning my left palm. The woman watched me as my fingers glided over the taut  skin and scar tissue. She watched me as i exposed my scarred forearm and rubbed the scars there as well. She did something on the computer that i had no interest in then grabbed a set of keys.      “Youre going to be renting number 113.” She handed me the keys. “Theres a map thatll tell you where to go. Ill stop by later tonight to see how youre working out here.” I wanted to tell her that wasnt necessary but bit my tongue. I thanked her and walked out. I got in my car and drove to the map. I studied it then drove away slowly. I found number 113 pretty easily. I pulled into the carport and got out. The majority of the people who lived here looked to be elderly. There were numerous younger kids though. The kids all looked to be around 13 to 19 years old. I sighed then made my way up to the door. I shoved the key in the door then turned it. I opened the screen then the main door. The interior of the place was surprisingly clean and comfortable despite the grungy outside appearance. I looked at the couch in the corner and gelt myself grow tired.  I laid down on the cushions and fell asleep all too fast. I heard a knock on the door and woke up groggily. I recounted what had happened and why on earth i had rented a place. I opened the door and the stocky office lady stood there with a few bags.      “May I come in?” She asked and i nodded silently. I held the doors open for her. The woman only came to stand as high as my collar bones, if that. She stepped in the little house.      “RVs 100 through 200 are for kids, like you. Either runaways or something else. I care for half of them. Ill take care of you too if you want me too.” I stared at the woman.      “Ma'am thats unneeded. I just need a place to get more money before I get back on the road.” I said quietly and took to examining my hands.      “What do you do? What are you planning to do to make money?”      “Ill think of something.” I muttered. My mind went to selling art. I had a little bit of art supplies shoved in my trunk. I could paint and sell the products. I could do commissions or–      “Whats your name?”      “I dont have one. Im restarting my life. I didnt want something tethering me to my old life.” I said, walking through a doorway to the kitchen. I looked it over then sat on the countertop. The woman walked in and set the bags on the counter beside me.      “Im Veronica.” She said. “I was a runaway when i was thirteen. I lived on the streets until  i was seventeen. Then i got a job and worked to afford a little rental like this.” She gestured to the little house. “I made it my goal to help others that are going through what i did. By the time i was twenty i co-owned this RV park. I was unofficially adopted and my adoptive mother helped me with buying this place. Now im close to fifty years old and i own this by myself.” I looked at her and she nodded to the bags. “I brought you food. You look pretty skinny under those baggy clothes.” Color flushed my cheeks. I nodded. I swalled hard and stared at the woman.      “Thank you, ma'am.”      “Ill let you get settled in. Dont be afraid to call for me.” She said before turning and walking away. I heard the door close and i closed my eyes. I got off the counterand looked in the bags. I saw sweets and smiled. I opened the container and pulled out a fat chocolate chip cookie. I bit into it and nearly melted. I finished the cookie and put everything in the fridge. I hardly ever ate. I wandered out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I found the bedroom and sat on the matress. It was more comfortable than the air mattress that was for sure. I laid down and fell asleep. I woke up as the sun shown in through the open blinds. I sat up and pulled the sides of my hair back into a ponytail. I walked trough the house and outside. I didn’t bother with putting shoes on. I walked over to my car and popped open the trunk. I grabbed the few canvases and my box of paint and brushes before closing the boot and shuffling groggily back inside. I set the canvases on the counter and grabbed a cookie. I set to work on getting a painting done. I was done before I even realized it. The yellow orange light of the setting sun shone in and painted the canvas with an aura of serenity. A smile turned up the corner of my lips up as i stared at a portrait of a woman. She had big, dark doe like eyes and pale skin, light blonde curls that reached to her sternum, and pale pink lips. It was the one woman i could paint with my eyes closed. I studied a photograph of her to the point of memorizing each detail of her pale, delicate face. My mother. Before I was surrendered to my uncle due to her incapability to raise me. My smile dissipated. I looked at the painting with its uncany resemblance to the woman in the photo. ‘Not my mother.’ I reminded myself. I scowled at the canvas and picked it up, taking it to the living room. I saw a few kids running around outside the trailer. Their laughs were muffled through the door but i could tell they were having fun. I peeked through the blinds and saw a few younger children and a few older ones playing basketball in the road. I smiled, remembering my days off where i would havg out with the neighbor kids. I stood and opened the front door. I let my hair down and shook my head. My hair fluffed then rested at my shoulders.      “I need a name.” I muttered as i pulled out a box of smokes. I put a cigarette between my lips and lit it with my zippo. I took a long drag as Veronica walked by. I blew the smoke out of the screen door. Veronica looked in my direction. She shook her head slightly as i brought the cigarette back up to my mouth.      “Excuse me, Veronica.” I called throuhh the door. She nodded in my direction and started making her way over.      “Smoking isnt good for your lungs, kiddo.” She said and i nodded.      “Yeah, im trying to shake the habit.” I put the lit butt out on the outer portion of my forearm.      “Oh my god, whyd you do that?” She asked, panic rising in her voice.      ‘Dont worry, Miss, it doesnt hurt too much.“ I paused. “I have a favor to ask of you.” She looked at me.      “Yeah?”      “I need a name. You got a name i could use?”      “Do you like Timothy? Or Jackson?” She suggested.

This story is unfinished and i might post an update if its wanted. In the mean time,, check out my instagram for art and more original characters. IG: @/ west_draws