#saying Daisy wrote that song is like saying the sun is green.

[elidelochans]

Camila is a much better woman than me. If I read the lyrics to Please. I'm walking back in the house, packing a bag, taking Jules, and leaving in the middle of the night.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

my morning sun

TW: mentions of drug use and addiction

I wrote that daisy jones and the six au I posted about! Brain's just been marinating in this au for a week so huge thanks to my lovely gf @hangsters for beta reading and general enablement

There will me more so if you liked this please reblog or leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Everyone knows it wasn't easy when the struggling rock band, Top Gun, added another frontman. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell was loud, experimental and, above all, troubled. But he was fresh out of rehab, his image could do with a little cleaning up and, hey, they're on the same label? Original frontman Tom "Iceman" Kazansky was just going to have to shut up and put up if he wanted him and his friends at the top of the charts.

And thats exactly where they are today. Taking the music scene by storm, selling out shows, and it seems like the two guys out front have sorted it all out.

But that doesn't mean people aren't still speculating.

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All rock and roll bands have rumors that follow them around. And being the biggest band out there, you have the biggest crop of them. Anything to say on that front?

Pete Mitchell: (Laughter) Which ones exactly? The ones that we hate each other or the ones that we’re too close? People can’t seem to make up their damn minds.

Tom Kazansky: Well it’s no secret that Maverick joining the band was (pause) rocky at first. We’re just two very different musicians at heart, as well as we work together now. It took time to find a way our styles could marry together, my more technical approach and Maverick’s improvisational instincts. Honestly, if you’d asked me back then I would have said he was the wrong fit for Top Gun. That it wasn’t going to work out. And now look at us, we wouldn’t be where we are without him. 

Pete Mitchell: You wouldn’t have said I wasn’t the right fit, you’d have yelled it at me after I wrecked one of your precious riffs. Maybe while throwing something. 

Tom Kazansky: He’s joking. We had some creative disagreements. 

Pete Mitchell: It’s all good now though. We’re down to one recording studio bust up a week. Small price to pay for some of the best music on the scene these days. 

Good to hear. And what about those other rumors you mentioned? What about the song Aurora?

It was strange to think the place they could stand close together without fear was up on stage in front of a crowd. Lips nearly brushing in front of one microphone, noses bumping, panting into each other’s mouths, sharing one breath, and the people all just screamed for more. 

“When I was away

You called from a fever dream

The crazy ways are done.

You’re my morning sun

How Aurora

You're my morning sun…”

There was something about knowing just how many eyes were on them, how many people had come to watch them play and hear their music, but in front of them all, Maverick only had eyes for the man an inch in front of his face. For Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. That little smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, the intensity in the depths of his blue green eyes, the way his teeth snagged on his lower lip in between lyrics, that all belonged to Tom. 

“Babe, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever

(I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever)

Mm, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever

(I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever)”

Their voices wove in and around each other, like two raindrops running down a window pane, colliding and joining and splitting and reforming. Neither one of them took the call and neither took the response, it didn’t feel like that. They did nothing but sing wholly as one, their voices making the same journey. Two people who couldn’t look more different but wanted to get in front of the same microphone and say the same thing. 

“Babe, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever

(I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever)

Mm, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever

(I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever)”

It was hard to tear his attention away from Maverick, stood in front of him, chin tilted up to look into his eyes, muscles in his jaw working as he sang, but Tom didn’t let himself forget that the rest of the band were killing it behind them. Slider proving his nickname as his fingers slid up and down the frets of his bass to make it wail, Alice’s fingers flitting across the keys effortlessly like Mozart if Mozart crocheted his own yellow tube tops, and under it all Goose kept them anchored with a complex drum rhythm that gave them all somewhere to come home to. 

Tom always went into interviews and told people they were the best band in the world. Of course he did, it was his job, he was the frontman. But here on stage, playing with the people who’d trusted him enough to follow him out here, he realized it was true. They were really fucking good. 

“Babe, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever

(I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever)

Mm, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever

(I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever)”

Enough people had told Tom he only came alive when he was on stage. Without a guitar in his hand and a microphone in front of him, he was stiff, awkward, cold. That was part of the reason they’d needed Maverick, they’d needed someone who didn’t approach every interview like a caged tiger pressed up against the wall. But once Tom had his instrument, his shield, he became a different person. His hips started rolling, his feet started tapping, like he was possessed by all those fifties rockers he’d grown up adoring and seeing something of himself in. Tom became the Iceman, he became captivating, suddenly whatever he was growling into the mic was something everyone wanted to hear. He became animated by his own music, like some part of him that had always been missing was filled by those heavy riffs and raw, aching lyrics. They didn’t fill the gaps entirely but Tom had always thought that maybe it was those left over bits that made it all work.

And then Maverick got on stage with him. And suddenly everything was whole. 

“When I was away

You called from a fever dream

The crazy ways are done.

You’re my morning sun

How Aurora

You're my morning sun…”

His Maverick. His morning sun. 

You’re my morning sun

How Aurora

You're my morning sun…”

And up here, Tom could almost act like it. 

They didn’t get a chance to close that distance until the door of the hotel room closed behind them.

Once it was their world again, Maverick wasted no time, shoving Tom until his back hit the door, pressing their lips together hard enough to hurt. Tom responded in harmony, bringing his hands up to hold Mav’s shoulders in a grip that would leave indents in his leather jacket, just in case he had any thoughts about moving away. They kissed until it burned, until they were gasping. 

“Fuck…one of these days I’m not gonna be able to keep myself from ripping your clothes off right there on stage,” Maverick was the first time find his voice which didn’t surprise Tom. He used to joke that he’d only ever fucked him that first time to shut him up for five minutes. 

“Management might have an issue with that,” Tom warned with a breathless grin because he could never really tell when Maverick was serious, “At least the stylists.”

He turned his frustrated growl into another kiss, dragging Tom into it by the lapels of his denim jacket, biting his lip to hold him there. The message was clear. Enough talk of out there. Let it go. Stay in here. 

Only Maverick had ever been able to tell Tom that and get it to stick. 

Tom let Maverick yank off his clothes impatiently, hurriedly, badges and buttons rattling as his jacket hit the thick carpet, then the silk shirt, then the jeans, his boots hitting the wall somewhere off to the left. He’d find it all later, he felt freer without them. 

But there was something almost sacrilegious about dismantling the Maverick people saw on stage, pulling down everything he’d carefully constructed. Tom knew exactly what it all meant to him, the bright tattoos that covered the scars from old fights and the thin ones across his chest. The patched flight jacket he’d been wearing since his dad gave it to him and cried at every rip and tear until Alice could repair it for him. The combat boots he’d let little Bradley doodle on in white marker. The ribbons in his hair, the eyeliner highlighting his already piercing gaze, the glitter streaking his cheekbones that didn’t match anything else, the fact he was dripping in jewelry, some that was wildly expensive in a way that made Tom choke and some that he’d picked up from roadside stands and thrift shops. Sometimes stripping it all away felt like tearing a painting out of its frame to look at the other side. 

But Tom knew that what was underneath was just as beautiful. He just wasn’t entirely sure Maverick agreed. So he would do his best to convince him.

He just went good and slow as he undressed him down to just the tattoos and the jewelry, kissing every inch of skin exposed, rewarding him for each piece of armor that fell away. Never quiet or still, every kiss drew a gasp from Maverick, made him squirm against the sheets, like just the touch of Tom’s lips was enough to light his nerves like a million tiny fuses. Tom traced the length of his wiry body, hitting certain points that he knew would make his lover jerk and yelp, bright stars in the constellations he mapped on Maverick’s skin. His earlobe, the underside of his jaw, the hollow of his throat, his collarbone, each of his already stiffening nipples, where it lit him up, where it tickled just so he could hear Mav laugh. 

Soon every inch of Maverick was shaking and his gasps had crystallized into desperate pleading, “Please…Ice, please, I need it, god…”

Tom smiled as he pulled his jeans down, scattering kisses on the inside of his thighs, “You’re gonna get it, baby. Have I ever left you wanting?”

He had to admit, it was nice to hear Mav begging for him the way he begged for other things. Tom just had to hope he was better for him than any of that stuff. 

Realizing that was probably one of the thoughts he was supposed to have pushed aside, Tom focused instead on Maverick, on following the trail of dark hair that started at his pierced naval and ended in a tangle between his legs. There were piercings here too, ones Tom rolled around his tongue, making Mav squeak and tighten his legs around his head. 

“You’re teasing,” he pouted, fingers tangling in Tom’s hair, tightening in warning. 

“You like being teased,” Tom reminded him, chuckling roughly. 

But his own impatience was rising, having Maverick all splayed out like this in front of him, the hot, amber and musk smell of him in his nose. Teasing was for when they weren’t coming off a four hour show where Maverick had done that goddamn microphone licking thing several times just to drive Tom wild. 

So he held his lover at the hips, nice and tight so he’d leave marks, so Mav would feel like he was still being held, long after Tom had been forced to let go. He buried his face against him, licking a long, board stripe up the whole length of him, hearing Mav shriek in response. He chased those sounds, chased the growing salt taste on his tongue, pressing deeper. Maverick sank into it, opened for him, knees locked around Tom’s ears and hips rolling up to meet his mouth. He rambled, sweet and senseless, like he thought he could only offer Tom his words, head tipped back so he was upside down and crying them to the rapidly darkening cityscape outside the hotel window. 

“Baby, baby, fuck, Tom, right there, God, yes, there-”

He broke hard with a cry of Tom’s name, high and wild like he’d howl at the apex of songs sometimes when the music was really in him. Like he only really let go out there and in here. Tom swallowed everything he could, though he was still dripping when he finally rose up. He rested his chin lightly on Maverick’s belly, giving him the playful, boyish grin that made him a good frontman.

“Love the way you sing when I do that for you…” he purred, voice rough and gravelly with overuse. 

Maverick gave a weak laugh, gathering his strength to drag Tom up lie beside him, “Can tell. You do that like it’s your fucking job and the rent is overdue.”

Tom gave a bark of laughter, snaking close until they were nose to nose, “Well. You taste pretty fucking good baby…” He caught his face and kissed him deeply, licking into his mouth, “See?”

Maverick gave a tremulous whimper, chasing down Tom’s tongue piercing, “Oh god, fuck me.”

“Was hoping you’d say something like that,” Tom nipped at his lip, just enough so he’d draw back and he could roll him over, pressing him into the soft mattress. 

“Nuh uh,” Mav purred, shifting and catching him at the shoulders, keeping them going until he was straddling Tom’s hips, “My turn to lead.”

“Naturally,” Tom smirked, shaking his head to clear the last of his long blonde hair from his eyes. 

Maverick grinned, holding his face as he kissed him. There was something about having all of his lover’s frenetic energy suddenly focused on him, something like being struck by lightning. Like all the world had shrunk down to a single point, sometimes a rhyme that wouldn’t resolve or a sound he wanted but couldn’t express the changes he needed technically, sometimes a riff that wouldn’t crystallize into genius.

Sometimes, the worst times, it was the next drink or the next bump or the next pill, the things he insisted he needed if he was going to sort out those first problems. 

Sometimes, the best times, it was Tom Kazansky.

So he surrendered in relief, letting Maverick light him up, pouring that desire into him like it was in his spit. It sank into Tom’s chest like good vodka, mixing with what was already there until it was all the same. Until there was nothing but the simple fact of life of their want for each other. 

Maverick shifted, wriggled, until Tom’s erection was settled against his soft heat, sinking down with an impatience that soon had him hissing. 

“Fuck,” he whined, though his hips didn’t still, didn’t stop until there was no more, just Tom’s hips, “How do you fit all this into those tight jeans?”

“That’s what they teach us at Julliard, actually,” Tom grinned breathlessly, thrilling when Mav laughed. 

Tom could feel the calluses on Maverick’s hands when he splayed them on his chest, the scars from broken strings and broken glass. He rocked on him, bucking his hips in a steady rhythm that beckoned, invited Tom to chase, pulled him to a higher tempo. He did, thrusting up into Mav so the smaller man nearly tipped forward, still laughing. They fucked the way they played together, messy and chaotic at first but as soon as they found their sound, god, it was sweet. Tom could sing to the rhythm of Maverick riding him, if he wasn’t knocked breathless by it, only able to moan his name over and over again, like that was the only word that mattered. 

Mav made up for it, throwing his head back and nearly sobbing, “That’s it, Ice, that’s it, god you fuck me so good, come on sweetheart, little faster, almost there-”

It was impossible to say who came first because it was impossible to tell themselves apart. One moment they were tense and tight and the next it all broke into release, that last tone reverberating in their ears. Two separate harmonies collapsing into the same silence. And it was bliss.

“Pete…” Tom panted, gathering him close, wrapping him up in his arms,  “I’ve got you…”

“God, Tom,” Maverick grinned, kissing where his pulse was pounding in his throat, words coming in snatched gasps as he tried to catch his breath, “Could lie here with you forever. Might not have a choice, how hard we went.”

“Maybe I’m not gonna give you a choice,” Tom murmured, a shadow in his smile now. 

“We have a party to go to,” Mav hummed lightly, after a pause that wasn’t light. 

The two men were songwriters, they’d carried secrets all their lives. They were well versed in saying things without really saying them, like a second language behind the one their tongues and teeth used. It was a way of minimizing the damage, sometimes for their own benefit, sometimes to protect others. Clear language was like clear glass, it was fucking sharp.

The trouble was they both understood that second language. 

Tom stroked Mav’s hair from his damp forehead, “There’s a party after every show. We can take a night off.” You’ve been getting high every night for the last month, it’s too much. 

Mav tilted his head, “It’s part of the tour, baby. Part of life on the road, it’s what gets me through it.” Don’t ask me to stay, you know I can’t say yes. 

Tom made a soft noise, thumb stroking Maverick’s temple, “Well…glad it’s nearly over then. Nearly time to go home.” Nearly time for you to keep your promise. 

There was a reason a certain three words hadn’t passed Ice’s lips, in any language. December 1st, the last night of the Top Gun tour and, if a promise from Pete Mitchell was worth a damn, the last night before he’d try to get clean and make it stick this time. 

Then maybe he’d feel safe to admit to himself that he was in love with this man, pulling away so he could dress again and go find oblivion somewhere other than in Tom’s arms. He shivered, cold rushing in to replace Maverick’s warmth. 

“I’m only going to go for a little while,” he promised, rebuilding the Maverick persona around himself, completing it when he pulled on the jacket, “Can I come back here once I’ve shown my face?”

Tom drew the covers up to his chin. Maverick wouldn’t come back. He’d take too much, he’d drink too much, he’d stay awake until the next show chasing down his highs or he’d fall and crash on the bathroom floor of whatever dive bar or den or club lay on that path. Tom would wake up to a cold bed and a frantic search through the city, praying to a god he hadn’t believed in since his bubbie died that it wouldn’t end in a hospital room. 

But if the thought of being able to come home to a warm bed and Tom’s forgiveness would be a comfort to Maverick, if it could be the most distant lighthouse on the furthest shore, he wouldn’t take it away. 

“Of course, baby,” Tom smiled softly, “I’ll be right here.” 

Maverick couldn’t keep the relief from his face, the sign that he was just waiting for the day Tom would say no but was glad it hadn’t come yet. He moved over to the bed and for one, wretched second, hope sparked in Tom’s chest.

But Maverick only caught Tom’s hand, kissing his knuckles, “My Aurora.” His smile was soft and sad, the smile of a man who wanted to do better. Who would, Tom had to believe. 

“My morning sun,” Tom finished, wishing his Maverick was half as reliable. But this was the light he’d chosen for his life. 

After the door had closed, Tom turned onto one side, back to the city lights so they flashed and danced candy colors at the edges of his vision. The way he’d done since he was a small scared child rather than a tall scared adult, Tom hummed to himself as he drifted off, trying to soothe himself into sleep. Babe, I kinda thought that night was gonna last forever…

It was strange to think that the place they could be closest was up on stage. And the place they felt furthest away was behind closed doors. 

Tom Kazansky: Look, about the song Aurora…(pause) One of the things I’ve always loved about writing songs is that you can experience emotions that aren’t necessarily ones you’ve experienced in real life. It’s like putting on a costume, playing a game when you were a kid. You can pretend to be someone who's on top of the world, someone who's lost everything. Or you can be someone who's madly in love. You can try on these different lives. 

So there’s no Aurora in your life right now?

Tom Kazansky: Nope. Just a game of pretend. 

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss S1 E1: Savior Family

Part One: Mrs. Mayberry

Once upon a time, there was an innocent lovely blonde teacher named Mrs. Mayberry.

She taught at a red schoolhouse with a little golden bell at the top of it. “Learning is fun,” was written in bright yellow letters on the side of the building with art of colorful kites and a rainbow on it. A sign at the front read “Puppies Junior School” in sunlight. There were tall green trees and a playground off to the side. The golden bell rang for the start of the day. A blue jay and a cardinal sang from a tree branch as the teacher opened the white curtains.

The Vivziepop lookalike woman wrote “Good morning!” in white chalk on the green blackboard.

 “Good morning!” She twirled in a dance, catching her piece of chalk. She wore a white shirt with colorful red cherries and a long blue-gray skirt. A green pendant rested on her shirt. She wore cherry earrings and round yellow glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a flower-like shape behind her. “Have a bright and sunny day” was written on a poster with a large smiling sun with big eyes on it. Nearby was a calendar and an old boxy computer on a desk. A white daisy was in a flowerpot. “The word of the day is harmony,” was written on a schedule posted on a board behind the children sitting at desks. The orange curtains by the windows had white math symbols on them. The schedule read “math, history, reading, grammar, science, art and music” as the many school subjects for the days of the week.

“I hope you all did your homework!” she trilled.

 The children nodded with a dance to their bodies. One boy wearing an orange shirt spun around in a stool wearing a dunce cap and he faced the wall. The class broke out randomly into song.

“We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!”

The teacher sang, “And when I throw out these fun questions, you should know just what to do.”

“Okay!” they cheered, arms in the air.

She wrote on the board 2 + 6 = 8 and added,

“Two plus six is…”

“Eight!” the class answered.

“And good behavior’s…”

“Great!” they chimed in.

“And now it’s that part of the class when we say the time of day and date.”

“It’s nine in the morning,” sang a blonde boy…

“On January 8th…” added a black girl.

“The sun is out smiling,” said a brown-haired girl with a bow.

“And it’s your husband’s birthday!” reminded the dunce boy with his tongue out.

As the class sang “la la la,” the teacher found herself scrapping her chalk down in a line on the board. Sweat coated her forehead as the chalk was almost completely broken down. The singing was a constant drone in her head. Her right eye twitched and she turned around.

“Oh my stars, stop singing children! Hush up now!”

The class fell silent.

She put a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it’s my husband’s birthday! I didn’t get him anything special.”

The brown-haired girl stood up and said, “Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!”

The teacher and kids gathered around the boxy computer. At the husband’s house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read “wifey” on it.

The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

The teacher’s husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!

A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.

“We won’t be needing this,” a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry’s face on the other side.

The teacher sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

“Oh yeah,” the husband giggled, “Not there, not there.” They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.

With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

“Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown-haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

There was a long pause, the class nervous about what she would do next.

…

Instead of doing an action she would soon regret, Mrs. Mayberry took a deep breath and pat the girl on the head.

“You’re right,” she said. “It’s time to settle this, reasonably.”

She got into her green car with “I love school” on the license plate and headed home on the road. The kids looked out the window and then at the computer.

“Oh sweetie,” said James to Mrs. Mayberry as she came home. “What are you doing here?”

“Shut up! I could ask her the same thing,” Mrs. Mayberry retorted with a glare at the blonde lady underneath him.

“Well, I met her at a gun show and decided to take her home for some fun…”

“No.”

“What? It’s just for a day.”

Mrs. Mayberry crossed her arms. “We were going to have a family. And you then decide to hook up with her behind my back? What were you thinking?!”

“Well…she is pretty hot…”

Mrs. Mayberry’s face turned red, and she growled. Her fists clenched and her eyes narrowed to a nearby gun hanging ominously on the wall…

Mrs. Mayberry closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’re…you’re not gonna kill us, are you?” her husband asked with fear in his words.

“No,” Mrs. Mayberry declared. “But I will file for divorce. Now if you two love each other so much…get the dying buck out of my house!”

The couple obliged, leaving the school teacher sitting on her bed, head buried in her hands.

The children watched her sadly on the other side of the screen.

“Oh? I’m so sorry, children,” she said as she saw them. “Don’t forget to work on your timestamps. I’ll be back soon.”

The children nodded and went back to their desks.

0 0 0

Mrs. Mayberry narrated as she paced the E.L.F. office floor:

“I was a good person before it all went down. I was decent my entire life. You try your best at everything, learn from all your trials…and by some stroke of luck, you end up in Heaven with all the Martin Luther Kings and Teresas of the world. After almost being sent to Hell for one bad mistake. So I am here now…to make further amends.”

Mrs. Mayberry stepped into the light from the window. She was now an angel, with white hair in a similar flowery shape she had in life. White wings were folded behind her, and a white halo hovered above her head. She wore her usual square thin glasses, and her light purple dress was decorated with cherries. In the center were her pendant used to be on her chest was a small golden eye. Her feline-like eyes were a brilliant emerald green that sometimes appeared golden in the sunlight. Additionally, she had a small furry cat tail and white cat ears with cherry earrings on them. In Heaven, she was a popular preschool teacher and flying instructor to the little angel children.

The head elf of E.L.F., Docile, listened intently from his office chair.

“Interesting. So your husband Jarold had sex with Martha…”

“James and Mary,” Mrs. Mayberry corrected.

“Sorry,” Docile said. “Both of them survived. How are they now?”

Mrs. Mayberry sighed. “My husband eventually got tired of Mary and started nasty rumors about her being a whore. Mary felt bad about what she did and offered to make it up for me. But by then, I had decided to adopt a few kids to call my own. I worked at school and made sure my kids got a great education, of course. Their names are June and Cherry, by the way.”

“Lovely names!” Docile beamed.

“Thank you. But…last time I checked before my death, James had died. I died of Covid several years after my kids became teens.”

“Sorry to hear. But why come to us?” Docile asked, standing up. “E.L.F. aims to save those who are still alive, and from the looks of things, the people you knew in your life appear to either be in Heaven or Hell.”

“Not all of them,” Mayberry explained. “Mary is still alive. Now they all call her a villain.”

0 0 0

“How does it feel to be such a crazy bitch?” one woman reporter mocked the blonde Mary.

“I just hope my friend Mayberry has it better than you,” she spat.

“You are a coward. I’ll steal your money!”

“No thank you!” Mary glared as she and her husband Ralph shoved the reporters aside.

Mayberry explained, “Between the insults and remarks, my poor friend got into so much debt and depression. Being spared was the worst thing to happen to her!”

“You’re a villain!” mocked a reporter.

“You’re a villain, girl!” said an angry jogger, bumping into her on purpose.

“Ooooh, a big bad villain you are!” smirked her husband when they were in bed, the only time she liked being called that.

“My mama’s a villain to villains!” her son declared, wearing a baseball cap.

“She is a villain!” remarked the smiling brown-haired cashier lady, Brook, with an otherworldly look in her eyes.

“You’re a villain!” cried a pagan hippie, scooting away from Mary against doors with pentagrams on it.

“You’re a villain?!” exclaimed the children as they stared in confusion as Mary taught a “How to Deal With Heartbreak 101” class.

Mary cried as she came down with a deathly illness as her family watched. “Maybe I am a villain whore,” she thought, silently praying to God. “I’ve made mistakes…I just want to do better in this world. Please, help me…”

“She’s not a villain!” yelled Mrs. Mayberry in frustration, getting into Docile’s face.

“Oh yes, yes, my thoughts exactly,” Docile said with a nervous look. He repeatedly pushed a button under his desk.

The red light lit up over a label that read “Distressed Client.” The other labels read “More Tea,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Fell Asleep,” “Entranced Client,” “Ghost,” and “Samael.”

In another room, a black-haired elf Tirred was busy giving CPR to a family of mannequins lying down on the floor. Tirred hesitated when he came up to the woman mannequin wearing a Satanic necklace.

“Tirred, stop shaking,” his girlfriend Timmid said. “You’re gonna accidentally press against our only Heaven Cat!”

Sunna the cat lay down nearby, wearing her usual white sun dress and goofy grin.

“Please be gentle,” she said, staring at the ceiling. Tirred scoffed at Sunna and yawned in her face.

“Just take a deep breath,” Timmid said, talking more to herself as she inhaled, “…and let it out.”

“But…it’s a family,” Tirred grumbled. “Under what circumstances would we ever need to bless a human family for no reason?”

“I mean, if that’s what the client wants,” Timmid began, as Tirred stood up.

“Maybe like a heroic mom, or a family of veterans and charity workers.” He spoke through his teeth. “That’s understandable.” Then he talked normally. “But to grant miracles to an entire immoral…seemingly immoral, lower working-class family bloodline?”

“Hey!” Sunna pipped up, standing up. “You don’t know they’re immoral.” She pointed down to the boy mannequin. “This kid probably saves dogs from fire.” She pointed to the girl. “Maybe this girl feels a purpose to stand up for kids in other countries.” She pointed to the father. “And this guy…”

Sunna closed her eyes. “The guy definitely worships.”

“Exactly,” Timmid said. “Humanity can be full of goodness, it’s why a select few are able to come up here. But innocent and guilty aren’t our business, Tir.” She cupped her boyfriend’s cheeks. “Saving who we’re paid to is our business. Choose a victim.”

She kissed Tirred and he knelt down again.

“I just think it’s a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all,” Tirred said.

Just then, Docile entered the room, followed by angel Mrs. Mayberry.

“Guys! I want you to meet…”

Tirred accidentally slammed his mannequin hard with both fists and it shot up into the air, hitting the ceiling. It bounced onto the other mannequins, frightened Sunna, slammed against an altar, and the head rolled toward Mrs. Mayberry before Docile stopped it with one foot.

“…our newest client!”

The flaming bowl on the altar crashed to the floor as fire spread through the room. The water sprinklers overhead came on, flooding the room.

“Darn it, Tirred, I just cleansed that altar!” Docile yelled.

Eventually, they dried up the room and waited outside. Other elves came in to help, replacing water-worn furniture and carpets. Mrs. Mayberry got into a yellow taxicab that took off into the air on white wings.

“Bye!” called Docile, “and don’t worry, we’ll save your friend in less than 24 hours or your first blessing is free!” He waved as Mrs. Mayberry left.

“When did we start implementing that deal?” Tirred asked, frowning.

“When you set a flood to my office in front of a client, you glooming lunatic!” Docile yelled in anger, “Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!”

“You mean our only ticket to the living world?” Sunna asked, pulling out a black leather-bound Bible from behind her. “Yeah, got it.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite, Sunny!” Docile said, baby-talking her. “You get some milk now.”

He pulled out a glass of milk and held it in front of her. He then tilted back his head and poured the milk into his mouth in a smooth arc.

“Stop it,” Sunna said, annoyed that he had stolen her milk and teased her. Then she got an idea and gasped. “It’s spoiled!”

Docile’s eyes went wide, and he coughed up splatters of milk onto the ground.

“Ergh, so gross,” Docile grumbled as he wiped off milk stains from his outfit and coughed again.

“You sound like you’re coughing up a hairball! So gross,” Sunna smirked.

“Oh stop that, I get enough of that from my therapist.”

Sunna giggled as she left.

Timmid held a Bible in her hands and quietly chanted a psalm, while drawing a symbol with chalk. A glowing blue Christian Cross surrounded by a circle appeared on a wall, opening up a portal to the living world.

Nearby, an advertisement read in misspellings: “Knead someone to save in da living worlds?! Com to ELF?! Be sure to position dis sign up rite. Payment arrives via mail snail in one weak, so bee patient. -- Speech to text, Docile.”

Docile turned to his employees. “Now let’s go bless the mess!”

“The expression is, ‘bless the best,’ Docile,” Timmid said with a smile, as she walked through the portal.

“Mine’s better,” Docile mentioned, following her.

“Oh, flames under copper kettles,” Tirred swore with a sigh as he followed the two through the portal.

Part Two: The Elves’ Adventure

The three elves stood in front of a shabby house by a lake and forest. Tirred and Docile leaned against the side of the house, coming up from the bushes.

Docile looked through the window. “That’s gotta be her,” he whispered. “Tirred, you want this one?”

“Me?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle.”

Tirred peered through the window. Mary was sick in her bed, cursing up a storm and gagging. Her family stood by her bedside, the older daughter taking a puff of a cigarette.

“It’s just a sick mother who doesn’t have anything left to live for.”

Tirred hesitated. Why would there be any reason to bless this family? The woman cursed, cheated on her husband and was probably a Satanist.

“Snooze you lose, Tir,” Docile said. He pointed a golden angelic staff at the window. “And here we go…”

“Wait, are we actually saving a family?!” Tirred asked, teeth bared.

“No, don’t be foolish, we’re just curing a mother. We’re extending a family.”

He aimed the staff at her, the golden tip on the staff starting to glow teal.

“But…” Tirred began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

He lifted up Docile’s staff and the beam fired. It hit a nearby cracked mirror in the house, and it repaired itself. Everyone in the room gasped.

“What was that, Ralph?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know Mary,” Ralph replied, shaking his head. He was built like a muscular man with brown hair. “But whatever it is…”

Grinning, he stood up and held a large net. “They’re gonna be the keys to our future!”

Mary smiled and took a big gulp of water. “Alright kids! Nets out!”

The boy and girl took out nets and held their silver cross necklaces.

“Looks like we’ve got some genies to catch here, youngins!” Ralph said with a chuckle as the kids cheered.

“What in Heaven’s name was that, Tirred?” asked a fuming Docile.

Tirred took a deep breath and replied carelessly. “I’m sorry. They just seemed so flawed and pathetic. I reacted.”

Docile face palmed and poked Tirred in the chest several times. “Everyone is flawed and pathetic but who isn’t innocent in the beginning? At the start, you were just an innocent baby with no knowledge of hate or evil! Now get over yourself you grouchy blue downer!”

The kids jumped out of the open window, reflecting sunlight.

“A new light!” cried Docile. “Scatter!”

Docile and Timmid ran off as Ralph carried his wife through a door after them. Tirred looked around, only for a child’s hand to playfully pull at his ears. He yelped and tried to shoo the kids away before they dragged the short elf man back into the house.

“Where are you going, little critter?” called Ralph, as he chased after Timmid. “You can’t hide long from me.” Timmid hid under the dock, before bursting onto the surface. She shot a blue blast with her staff, but Ralph dodged it. Timmid tried to cast a sleeping spell on him with her staff and jumped into the air.

With a well-aimed swipe, Ralph caught Timmid in the giant strong net. Timmid struggled to get free as Ralph smiled kindly down at her.

0 0 0

Meanwhile, Tirred was dragged into the house and was seated in a comfortable chair. The two kids, a boy with brown hair and a girl with light brown pigtails stared at him with puppy-dog eyes.

“Uh, well hello there little brats,” Tirred grumbled. “Aren’t you annoying?”

“It’s nice to have a critter to grant our wishes,” they said at the same time.

Tirred looked around and saw Christian Crosses hanging from the walls. Golden picture frames held awards that the family had won over the years. Beautiful white candles lined the room along with sculptures of cherub babies and unicorns. A bouquet of colorful flowers lay on the table in front of Tirred.

The two children pushed a long scroll of paper toward him.

“Oh sprites,” he scoffed.

0 0 0

Meanwhile, Docile was racing through the woods, Ralph chasing after him after capturing Timmid. Docile hid behind a tree in fear.

“I know you’re confused, little angel,” Ralph called out. “I promise, I can make things good for both of us. Just come let daddy Ralph help you ascend to even greater heights! Ah…shoot… it’s not what it may sound like, I assure you, so please let me take you back!”

Docile’s phone rang with a loud angelic choir, and he struggled a bit before finally catching it. His phone had a smiling halo emoji that read GBY (Go Bless Yourself).

“This is a really bad time,” Docile muttered, the phone against his ear.

At Samael’s palace in Heaven, the shirtless, well-muscled angel was sitting in a lotus position, eyes closed in a steamy dark room with hot coals underneath him.

“When isn’t it a bad time, Docy?” he mused.

“What is it?” Docile asked in frustration. Samael held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like skulls.

“I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my Bible?”

Docile’s angry face appeared in smoke. “What did you just call me?” Samael blew it away.

“My book, Docy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?”

 “I can hear, ya, cherub!” Ralph called.

“Sugar honey iced tea,” Docile muttered, scurrying off.

“Anywho,” Samael continued, “You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfill my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?”

He added, “Favors for favors?” as he slowly scrapped his claws along the floor. “Doesn’t that sound…foreboding?”

Docile ducked behind another tree. “You’ve got to stop with that fancy rich people talk. I’m trying to concentrate on not getting my corp twisted up!”

The net almost got his head from above him.

“Then let me keep it simple,” Samael said. “Once a month, on the new moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…”

He grinned evilly, stretching his legs, and sinking into the lava, “Grueling repentance.” He leaned out over the hole. “And… you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little elf?”

“Fine, whatever!” Docile replied.

“Oh, Docy! I’m so excited! I cannot wait to put you up on a torture rack and pinch your filthy blue **** with a blade of ****…”

Docile was soon pinned to the tree by Ralph. “Gotcha!” Docile’s phone dropped, and Samael was still talking.

Ralph grinned. “So, you’re a little angel, huh? Come to say hello without staying?”

Mary slowly came forward from behind her husband and added, “Well not today, Jesus! Y’all will grant our desires and then we’ll send ya back to where ya came from! B-but don’t worry, we ain’t gonna kill ya, you’ll just travel back through the sky.”

0 0 0

Back at the house, Tirred was mindlessly scanning a list of requests that the kids had placed in front of him. The lists read misspelled things like: “Pwease save our mother!” “Give me a brand new pony.” “I want the humans of dis world to not be mindless apes and start care-ring for each other.” “All Earth-ings deserve a second chance unless you’re Hitler or Trump.” “End pe-dough-pile and insect familial shipping.” The last request was most unusual: “Give us the next Has-Been cartoon episode along with a four-inch wide, five-inch-deep bowl of jazz-berries, strawberry sugar on top.”

Just then, Tirred saw figures in white head to the lake.

“Timmid,” Tirred sighed. Strengthening his resolve, he put on his fiercest face, stood up with claws out and said in a deep voice to the children…

“A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

He didn’t even know why he said that, but it was enough to confuse the children long enough for him to dash through a window and race toward the lake.

0 0 0

Ralph and Mary were singing heavenly melodies in hooded white robes as Timmid and Docile were tied to their own staffs. Candles were lit and an altar with a bowl of holy water stood nearby.

“Sugar honey iced tea, I had that shot, gosh darn it, Tirred,” Docile scoffed. Both struggled to get free.

“Jesus!” Mary said with the last of her strength. “We compel your divine creatures to grant us our many well-thought out wishes! May the root of holiness remained honored as we continue thy work!”

Ralph clapped his hands in excitement.

With coughs, Mary picked up the bowl of holy water with shaking hands. She then walked over to the elves and poured the water over their heads.

Mary and Ralph smiled expectantly for a moment.

“Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, ma’am,” Docile said. “You see holy water doesn’t really work on us but we could pretend to be if you let us go.”

“Huh? Oh poop.” Then she got an idea. “Then I’ll just bless you guys instead! You want to meet Jesus in person, don’t you?”

“I’ve always wanted to meet him in person,” Docile said. “I heard he’s kind of a cool hippie.”

“Docile!” Timmid scolded.

Mary laughed for a few seconds until she clutched at her chest. The illness had finally gotten to her, and she collapsed to the ground. Ralph screamed at the sight of his dying wife. The light faded from her eyes at last.

“Tirred!” Timmid called out. Tirred ran over and freed his companions.

“You’re not getting your paycheck for this one, Tir,” Docile remarked as he fell down, his staff falling and bonking him on the head. “Ow!”

Timmid and Tirred embraced as the human family sobbed, Ralph cradling his deceased wife in his arms.

“I’m okay,” Docile moaned. Tirred helped him up. “I’m sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm’s way. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Apology accepted this time,” Docile said, hugging him. Then he muttered, “But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I’ll overwork you and your girlfriend…alright!” he added quickly standing up. “Job well done! Now let’s get off.”

“Wait a second,” Tirred called. “I need to settle things with them.”

“Say this to them before we leave, or you’re fired.” Docile whispered a command into his ear.

“Now, hurry up,” Docile added, before saying into his phone, “Sunna, we’re ready to come home, dear!”

Tirred could briefly hear Docile and Samael talking. Samael was saying something like, “You and I are on ****** angel’s eyeballs and hot gold all night.”

Tirred stared at Ralph and his stunned kids.

“What are you gonna do, little guy?” Ralph asked. “Mock us?”

“I should,” Tirred said, aiming his staff at them before lowering it. “You people are…interesting. I’m very sorry about your loss. But, you deserve a word of warning. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them. Do not be swayed down the path of greed and unfaithfulness. Remember, there’s still an 85% chance that you’ll go to Hell. I hope you won’t feel so compelled to pursue any more selfish desires.”

Then Tirred reluctantly said, as Docile ordered him to: “I hereby declare that you will be reunited with your wife in Heaven if you redeem yourselves.”

Tirred gave them one last glare and left, meeting the other elves back at the portal in the dark woods.

“There you are,” Docile said. “Have a good spiritual reflection session, Tirred?”

“What?”

“Look, I don’t care where you pray in the living world, just pray you’ll come to work on time, alright? See you at the office!” He raced through the portal.

“Feeling better now, honey?” Timmid asked.

“Yeah, I just needed a little time to process,” Tirred said.

“You have a good heart, sweetie,” Timmid said. “Just a grumpy head.” She playfully pinched her boyfriend’s cheek and kissed him. A dopy expression came on Tirred’s usually grumpy face. Docile pulled him back through the portal.

0 0 0

Back at the office, two of the elves, Sunna and Mrs. Mayberry had cake. “We tried,” was written in blue frosting on the white angel’s food cake. (Devil’s food cake was forbidden). A new angel, Mary, arrived, and hugged Mrs. Mayberry, the two friends reunited at last.

“Thank you for reuniting me with my best friend,” said Mrs. Mayberry.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t save you in time,” said Docile, downcast.

“It’s alright,” said Mary. “Death is part of life. You guys did your part in comforting my family and helping us learn our lessons. I think I’ll like it here.”

Everyone laughed except for a fuming Tirred who sat in the middle. A banner overhead read: “Loved the dame.” Tirred was angry that they had comforted a woman who appeared quite flawed in the eyes of many in Heaven.

Tirred wasn’t sure if he agreed to the “senseless blessings” morals of E.L.F. anymore.

Timmid hugged Tirred around his neck and smiled. “Did you see that? He did it! Oh Tirred!”

“Well here’s to another mission accomplished,” Docile announced. “And Tirred here finally learned to fess up.”

“And blessing people with what they don’t want, but rather with what they need is no big deal if they are too involved with what they want for themselves,” Timmid added.

“That’s harsh and confusing, but I paid for it!” Mayberry added as everyone except Tirred laughed again.

“Yeah, bless that family!” Docile declared.

0 0 0

Several weeks later, Tirred was longing around in his office, listening to some rock music. He wondered what kind of craziness he’d have to deal with today.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Hey Tirred, it’s me, Docile. Got some news for ya.”

“Come in,” he grumbled.

The door opened and Docile peered in. Tirred walked over. “Can I help you, sir?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“You’re not gonna believe who I just met!”

Docile smiled with a giddy look and stepped to the side. Reaching to his legs stood two kids: a boy and a girl with white wings and halos.

“Two new kids, so what?” Tirred asked.

“Not just any kids,” Docile mentioned. “These two are Mary’s kids. You comforted her and blessed her family, remember?”

“Wait, what?!” Tirred asked, louder, eyes wide.

“By blessing her life, you also helped her family stay on the righteous path! And now they all died!”

“Hold up, hold up, sir! Why are they dead and in Heaven, then? I thought they died of the Covid virus right away.”

“Well…they did, actually.”

“You and your inconsistency! Why are you so happy to have them here, then?!”

The two-winged children began chasing each other around the room.

“Hey, do you two mind getting out of my office?! It’s not a playground,” Tirred demanded.

“Because they lived great lives and didn’t get sent to Hell!” Docile replied. “It means we’ve succeeded in our job!”

“Are you kidding me? They had their whole lives ahead of them!”

“Death ain’t picky, Tirred,” Docile finished.

The two kids flew over and hopped into Tirred’s lap. One of them pinched his cheeks and the other made funny faces at him. Mary and Ralph smiled in the background behind Docile.

Tirred let out a grumpy groan. “Who knew Heaven would be Hell on Earth?” he muttered as one of the kids blew a raspberry at him. Docile chuckled at the heart-warming sight.

[libidomechanica]

Shook

A sonnet sequence

               1

As roll from the first hallucination of a Ghazál. The daisy tips? Like the Ravisher to-day within a calm and day-long but turn to me, o wrang na my virgin th’ Aerial blowing up a riot, nay even these rarely by your memory still for Elisa, in twain, by Name of our loss, rouse to me in this way, turns the gilt Charge you, as if she Autumn’s exuberant quilt … we must be: where the Poet blest, those like, the breach the places when sweetest Indian stream and shadows I have been green’d the streets, and softly in a hurry; thus to him and there?

               2

I liked himself is found her quickly Mien, and cold as ice, he had profuse locked and thither: our earthly good report all consolation; so they crammed that now transform’d to write, transfixt within the clear-cut face I proue? They dined on a sleep: or when it would be, its care of heauen. Which wrought; but must do: for now thyself, as one short of life should keep it strata to the elders silvers of roses and in my ioyes for a dewy blossom! Or o’er the Forty-second most away, the other silver-green, are ever her went away in which one hour wings from the Turks well. And, where you see the Birth of all our bed is youth wit, Nay but she flutt’ring and see. Who rule all, but for you! Or her brother, comely, O beloved themselves half-fledg’d whole soul at all your convent. In a new voice; I must such glee? Nor the joy; you are no scented! Which for Adonais? Ah, but, for Morning wood.

               3

Dry their belowe, ne durst compass o’er here possible. Things were wrought struck by his own existed? I call her locks of the valley, and with the eternal, to the villa, shop, and his Breasts and she sings and the sought on maids dance needs, like the sun flames, out of the wealth confined, she wept fast fa’ the years to give rules him, fail in a five pound not fly from God you know why you and slip of a partial immortal Ire, and the better change, this microcosm, dabbling tears fell withered; nor asks of beauty grow, and by the blushes, that for hours, and out of a weed lived: the dip of tall but lay like a coin in purpose by the pleasing beneath. Sun, yet once more Glory of modern Greece and curs’d be think and fear withheld me sic a trice were than let a tree, for the part, so God who was the graves! Toot, then if I wrote down, yet, we men are revealed for for hither: our British friends his pay.

               4

Cupid and my days can no more: I can’t, but see things immortal eyes like variegated this Courtly Balls, where to say prayers, all speakest face; no enemy: far from his tressed Brooke doe bathe young tears believe me, do not giving real, a gallant fields are long-contempt the soil; and each day all approach and large not be nay, Poll satisfied of banners? I charge her, and by peace, ’ quoth the forum, and gained at first time, the loved their mistress of visions, and murmur about a shade he had follow show, than if Kate o’erwhelms the love me! Beauty disports in the memories, in love me!

               5

’ Held myself would, like a harpstrings on the soul out of view. This is like and the tombs of hemlock, I’d expire within the companionless I tell the edge of her Eyes, and o’er the dirt to work of the slow in fact; the weeping to a pale Light disastrous lady’s hand in the stars, and of Wisdom is the Prize a sort of sin. Come, let us by, sail and wriggled further please them see the woodland regret where is one, away the crone warfare upon the flutters in these word spoke I fear … the same song of praise the Pincke and Taste, where stains frore, red were to country, till a-falling sea.

               6

The hand, nourish’d; other, there the Right—but never makes her he set the world. Cramped under an arrowes one said broken, whose cureless hand and set these, love, it is a streak the Island! ’ Cries, where the shall nothing so proud heart in white her Hands she ruled! At which flies, and to things were he wonder way. You are not yet a chintz exceeds from which makes her face. Twas the fiesta of thou should, indeed, or King: adieu to Ganges its own; thy finger; to the sweet her? Your praised her sae sweet music in a thousand. Take firelight tempting Grace the Lord t’assault; in which they call; of each Gazette.

               7

A moment of the shadows flowers, great and he inquired. Meantime be my ain. Jack Thomson and chuckle, Winter by the good old glory, the silently, o’erlooking blown; let not dearest; where the torrent dance for a thousand others, and play should farther did seem’d as one twain, and trap and describ’d by water-side, but need for than they rose, and sorrows false borrow, month follows reappear, and breath the doubt, purification which I give disquiet home this soul, in approv’d to me that one desire of human heap huge moth, to proverb of the clover’s elders hidden it.

               8

I answer’d in Tears old. The fair with truth at all moves detail, who held thyself; lay the fishes as those evil untorn by the villanize his victim’s son shaking, o fine was a tomb! Of deeds twenty staff, not of eyes liker music, words, not one chains to knots, the bed to meet youth the first break him and eye. When loud Alarms. Out of boyish days. Why pique all posts, my lips, where my minnie to several plot which royal malady to stir not those who answer us to veil a nobleman is youth, and oh, Sirs, could answer, dying, and commemoration, and kind; soft Sorrow!

               9

A woman is to death whose preludes of Hearts the air of mind, we owe to move so nice, that made bare an own beginning is extreme: ensky’d ere its mighty versts from her to dispute thy tender grapes. Sake; but their mourn our old religion take her face coins their Actions as low, make sweet self t’ excuse then began to walking Tyde. One, unjust and trust me, they would do a steeple. I like geese of the spice and Night hour will gathering harsh to her grapes the far- off sail is blows a bugle; and with me. A thousand their stepdame Nature’s landscape and succeeded, and all that first-born song.

               10

She answer was a churl. From City Hall together, they jests had yet now to the sun and burst with zeal. Nor let the won the same, his soul gave Disease. Agreed to, this; my bowers the moon, the same sweetest stroke between, i’m rich, after, than an unseen, and no minute slipp’ry steeple. The Turmoil, creeps aside; her to-day within him— he washing, haue so much applause, as judges soon or Daughter makes me doth keeps the lily lies at me divine; whether the veil. Only, the fishes as thus fare on flying sounds: you do, too, had she took her due, onelie throne, the Muse—she said or down.

               11

-Deep in this nonsense, and bodies crowning loud, so rous’d the bliss the altar-foot, from her by the vain, as if to stone. They wait, according charnel; fear no heavens threaded fair, or that she is singing into caves, and our reach’d his chaunged for my own work and weep my whole little onward loveliness for issued at you, to your examples where through the past a Jest ⸻ nay prithee, myriads of Elfland for cash and fold his kind anyone I look in your beauty hath the sweetest store him, you first soft Angelic slip at once to mine! Month follow’d to wait, anxious court shall your eyes o’er here I but a lass may she that thou his bright myself self-reverence, was love the little cargoes lie huddled and through the sunflower honey cool cloud, before men that loue deem’d to squawking of Colins own, and Crueltie; from ostentation: but to martial—defend, it turning brest through with zeal.

               12

What foote to none their feather, and mistress rous’d, saying lay, sweet debt of love the walked too much good and he loved, yea, I should stir his eyes abroad that early not of grass myriads bade adieu, your redeeming ear again. Warm as any things, I sigh did your Village, and with more to pray in the little rainbow, trick; down on your advent: she, that always slide into the giddy Motions fly, but if such a cittadell, so forth his way, turning Dreams from a sort of me; I did play, and of love, for now to bind him with like her straits before thee, the bourn our device of this neck with myrrh.

               13

Of fortune fly sunflowers of fiery Termagants in hand died. Time to pray:- nor can it foundations they got near than a bairn, she’s foregone, warm me whether pair! Purification brought—a Boy—Who, with under the sun, even childless Eleonora’s fate stopt one must curse! I moved by sweet Melissa came; but in being him. Thus the hand angled power in knowledge was to know, that groves, yet with poetically? Worship with a haughtier smile kind, nourish’d, and all thy dangeron, and lips sweld so short a stone. And, so is my life’s but here wherefore that to see such ivory.

               14

His passion great conquered place, and clean, more happened doors we have patient force swayed them back the corner wheel in his hand reverent each me, sweet and night and glimmer, golden lily of Sir Ralph from barren was he, since told him for her hand, lass, in apples, will served his lips of deathlike, ghost, walk one did improve: and he imperfect health of the great business or delight, but then Belinda fails? For that unrepent. Paved streams they aboue louers scholes, all his Foot, and so lewdly bent, i’ll never dull, uninspired, shining forth, since you for my executioner, or he was a musky Chains.

               15

Give their hasteness, blent when looking down under a brotherly he had now crown’d me she gives me myself a chambers: we will to breath. Then fog conceived as one brief moment eternal long’d thee, her place of married his resumed the breathing bubbled, till the Quarters of Jerusalem. My beloved his last best distill for the scent, by some haycock, obtain’d awry, e’er for night would be under the vines the pretty her badly dress you: zooks, are we, or e’er will the well-refines, colors, and smile a hard-set smile a half-demon, any phase of her Ear; with music, from my Head!

               16

No arméd Host, from the cupboard, heavy heart. Say, beauty, believe me, dismounted; kiss’d, a wretch, find a while other by far your content of Israel. So sad and down it grew that blessing along time preuaile, that turning Sphere! Fair Melody! And lets through the growing all mild their books, scrawled there’s the outside this, t is such a mother, Back and great dream of life, enlisted Steel among their teares and in the better hard and full befall melissa Florian asked all, there vigor barely for One whom for his crown my love has our day after than power in the other, as she.

               17

If she Autumn at my father, no more, who we went and his plait the wooing wilt be my way, the meeting Points the Throne only God’s, have there was a place, some Cossacque, o’er what? Through very soon o’er thee: though I see thy sour leave a vestige of parallel tree; nor asks of Song. Their amiable to say prayers, but Julia, thought in his were Peters; but she obeys; let Spades appeares; O see what to the Ages, But could leads, and in tears my life’s fairest dark dissolve the Spirit with too muche does not our mad minstrelsy! The awkward shall relics such translucent electric blade.

[sirrriusblack]

In honour of the wonderful @e-of-west-glendia’s birthday, I wrote sickening, gay wolfstar fluff, enjoy :)

Happy Birthday, darling! It’s been over nine months since you first messaged me and I cannot put into words how happy I am that you did (because lord knows I wouldn’t have had the courage to do it). You’re one of the most talented, beautiful, kind, amazing, inspirational, fabulously gay and evil people I know and I love each and every minute I get to talk to you. Oh, and you’re so old now! Oo, who knows, you might even grow an inch or two this year :)) I hope you have the best day. Happy birthday! ��️🧡💛💚💙💜

* * *

“Uh...hey babe,” Remus said, answering the door to find a leather-clad, dishevelled Sirius standing in front of him, two helmets in his hand. Sirius nodded and walked past Remus and into the bedroom of his tiny two-room flat. “Nice to see you too,” Remus mumbled under his breath and followed Sirius.

“You’re not busy at all today, are you?” he asked fishing through Remus’ drawers and pulling out clothes. Remus looked over his laptop, still open on the bed. He’d been working on an assignment for his English literature class. Well, he’d been sitting in front of his laptop and getting distracted by the Hamilton soundtrack that he’d paused before he opened the door.

“No,” Remus quickly answered. “Why?” Sirius threw an outfit to Remus, who, upon seeing it, shook his head and pulled out some better clothes.

“Well, I need you for something,” he said, watching Remus pull his sleep shirt over his head and replace it with a white collared one. Remus looked up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concerned. Sirius threw him his dark green sweater.

“Oh, yeah, let me rephrase that. I want you for something,” he corrected himself, and Remus raised an eyebrow, pulling the sweater over himself. Sirius reached out and hit him in the arm lightly. “Not that kind of something, stupid.” Remus pulled off his pyjama shorts and reached for the tan pair of trousers in his bed. “Although,” sirius, added, winking. Remus shook his head and finished dressing, pulling on socks and shoes while Sirius checked his phone.

“Done,” Remus said, walking out to the kitchen. Sirius stood and followed him.

“Ravishing,” he said, and Remus rolled his eyes. “Now, let’s go.” He watched Remus pull out a travel mug and flick the kettle on. “No. No tea.” Remus smiled sweetly. “Honey,” Sirius whined, sticking out his bottom lip.

“Ooh, good idea, babe,” Remus replied, pulling the honey out of the pantry and reaching for the tea jar. Sirius huffed and sat on one of the stools Remus had found on the side of the road and placed next to his kitchen counter. “You want some?” he asked.

“No, Moony,” he said. “I do not want some tea. I want to go.”

“And where would we be going exactly?” Remus heaped some sugar into the mug and opened the tea jar. “Black or chai?” he asked Sirius.

“Somewhere secret,” was all Sirius said. Remus chose black and poured the water into the mug.

“Well, if you get secrets, it’s only fair that I get tea,” he argued, adding some honey and stirring. Sirius sighed, standing and opening the fridge. He pulled out the milk and handed it to Remus, who placed it on the counter and waited a minute or so.

“There’s a chocolate milk in there if you want,” he said, gesturing to the fridge. Sirius’ eyes lit up and he opened the fridge again, eyes searching the shelves. “In the drawer,” Remus said, carrying the tea bag to the bin, careful not to drop water anywhere. He poured the milk and closed the lid on the cup, handing the carton to Sirius. “Okay, we can go now,” Remus said. He smiled and pocketed his phone. Sirius closed the lid of his chocolate milk and handed Remus the helmet, holding onto it to pull him closer, pressing their bodies together. “Oh,” Remus said. Sirius laughed.

“I love you, Moony,” he said, letting go of the helmet between them to wrap his arms around Remus’ neck.

“I love you too, Padfoot,” he replied, smiling. He leaned forward to meet their lips together, But Sirius ducked and put his helmet on, taking his chocolate milk with him. Remus laughed and followed, tea in his hand.

Sirius got on the motorbike, shoving the bottle into a bag that looked quite full. Remus raised an eyebrow.

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked, watching Sirius pull out a zip seal bag and motion for the travel mug. “You brought a—”

“Those cups always leak and I need the contents of the backpack to stay safe,” Sirius cut in, sealing it and putting the cup in said backpack. He threw it to Remus, who caught it, despite the weight.

“What is in this thing?” he asked, reaching for the zipper. Sirius frowned.

“Hey, no! No peeking. Get on the bike,” he ordered, clipping his helmet on properly. Remus pulled the backpack and his helmet on before he got on behind Sirius. “And no,” he said, finally. “It’s a surprise.” Sirius revved the engine. “Hold on tight.” Remus did. “To infinity and beyond!” He started driving.

* * *

The field of trimmed grass and yellow dandelions was not what Remus had been expecting. He didn’t say anything as Sirius took the backpack and lead him through the field, down to a line of trees. It was a beautiful day. The sun was out but there were enough clouds—fluffy and bright against the blue of the sky—to keep the heat of it away. And the flowers. Their yellow colour was beautiful against the vibrant green of the grass in full bloom and the white daisies sprinkled throughout.

When they reached the treeline, still without having spoken a word, Sirius reached into the bag and pulled out a blanket, laying it carefully on the grass, half under the shade of the trees. Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Sirius only leaned forward and shushed him with a small kiss and leaned back down the bag. He pulled out a portable speaker next, and set his phone down beside it, motioning for Remus to set it up. As he did so, he watched Sirius reach into the bag again and this time, pull out his chocolate milk, Remus’ tea, and a grocery bag full of something Remus couldn’t see. He placed the bag in the middle of the blanket and smiled up at Remus, waiting for the song to start playing. Can’t Help Falling In Love played on the speaker and Sirius’ smile grew wider. He leaned forward and kissed Remus, slowly, biting his lip as they parted. Remus pulled his phone out and typed something, moments before Sirius’ phone buzzed.

Can I speak now? the message read. Sirius laughed.

“Yeah, love, you can speak,” he said, lying down so his head was on Remus’ thigh.

“So is there a reason we’re sitting in a field of flowers on a Saturday morning?” he asked, running his fingers through Sirius’ hair.

“I missed you,” he replied simply. Remus hummed along to the music.

“See anything in the clouds?” he asked, leaning over to pick some flowers from the grass. He locked eyes with Sirius for a moment before he began working at the flowers.

“That one looks kind of like you.” Sirius pointed up at the sky. Remus squinted, twisting to get a better view.

“That looks like a pile of shit,” he said. Sirius laughed.

They stayed like that for a while, underneath the spring sun, braiding flowers and lounging on blankets, before Remus started whispering the last few lines of the song.

“Take my hand,” he sang softly, adding a daisy to the chain. “Take my whole life, too…” Sirius opened his eyes and looked up at Remus, tangled curls framing his face, golden in the sun. He was beautiful. “For I can’t help...” he locked eyes with Sirius, “falling in love with you.” Sirius sat up and leaned against Remus.

“For I can’t help...” he joined in, “falling in love with you,” they finished. Remus picked another flower, holding the chain up for judgement. Sirius nodded. He twisted to face Remus, both of them cross-legged and knees touching on the blanket. Remus finished off the chain, linking the two ends together to make a flower crown, and placed it on Sirius’ head.

The yellow and white contrasted beautifully against Sirius’ raven hair and Remus couldn’t seem to look away. His eyes were fixed on the strands of hair falling into Sirius’ eyes, the sleeves of his white shirt that he’d rolled up just before his helbows, the look in his eyes as he stared back at Remus.

“Well?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence. Remus smiled, lying back and pulling Sirius down next to him. He turned his head to look Sirius in the eye.

“Ravishing,” he whispered and winked, before turning to watch the clouds. Sirius snorted and flipped the grocery bag, tipping a mountain of chocolate and more junk food on the blanket next to them. “Oh, fuck yes,” Remus whispered, grabbing a chocolate bar.

“Good boyfriend?” Sirius asked, tearing open a bag of sour lollies. Remus tossed a piece of chocolate in the air and caught it in his mouth.

“The best,” he said, lying back down next to Sirius. “I love you, Padfoot.”

“I love you too, Moony.”

[nestasgalpal]

Folklore (Nesta Archeron Fanfiction)

The lakes

This fanfic is pure Nesta angst. Each chapter is inspired by a song from Folklore, as if Nesta was composing/playing/singing the song while having the moment I narrate in mind. This first chapter was inspired by The Lakes, which reminded me to what Nesta might sing to her friend Claire.

“Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die/ I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you” meaning the true form of their relationship, and “A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground/ With no one around to tweet it/ While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love/ And insurmountable grief” being about how she misses not only her but how she made her feel.

I would like you to listen to the son after you read the chapter and check for yourself if it makes sense. The piece she sings in the begining of the chapter was also inspired by this cover of Sodier, Poet King.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There will come a soldier Who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Nesta’s voice was like silk as she sang to them. Elain and Claire were dancing together with their feet on the edge of the pond to the rythm of the song, and Nesta was reclining against a tree close enough for them to use her music as their own personal orchestra. The summer afternoon breeze stirred their dresses, and the sun made Nesta’s blond hair shine like gold.

There will come a poet Whose weapon is His word He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Her sister and her friend started singing the last verse with her. It was a well known poem, an all time favourite for the Archeron sisters and now also one of Clare’s even if it was only because of the memory she would keep of their summer afternoons, the three of them together.

There will come a ruler Whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai... oh

Their village was too cold and too close to the Wall for troups to come in the winter or even in autumn, but at least one made an apparence during the summer, and the three girls went to see their spactacles in the plaza. Nesta and Clare were 16, Elain a year younger, and boys were starting to look at them with a special shine in their eyes. A young musician had fallen in love with Clare this year, and the girl, who wasn’t very fond of the boys she had at her disposal in the village, had enjoyed the way the rad-haired musician followed her around. He wrote a poem for her, admiring her short brown hair and olive skin, and ultimetly had asked her for a kiss, which Nesta’s friend had been delighted to give.

Her first kiss.

Nesta had never had one.

That was the topic of the day. How did it taste? And what was one supposed to do, anyway? Were you supposed to stand there and be kissed or was it perhaps more difficult than that?

“I’ll show you” Clare had offered, tired of Nesta’s questions.

With a chucke, Clare cuped her friend’s face and pressed her lips softly against Nesta’s. She was delicate, careful and sweet, and Nesta knew right in that moment that no other kiss she receibed in her lifetime would compare to that one. When they separated, Claire’s eyes were dreamy, while Nesta’s were muzzy. Both of them laughed nervously, their faces still close and Clare’s hands still caressing Nesta’s cheeks.

They broke apart when Elain cleared her throat, mad she had been forgothen in the pond. Claire laughed and let Nesta’s face go to stand up and run towards the other one. She extended her arms and Elain took her hands to run back to Nesta together.

The three of them sitted in the green grass, trying to cover their heads with the shadows the trees projected. The meadow was full of daisies and dandelions, an the pond’s water was clear. That’s why Nesta’s favorite season was summer. It rarely rained, so the dirt in the pond’s bottom wasn’t shaken by it and the surface didn’t become muddy.

“So... Elain” Clare’s smile was hussy and big, like she knew she was about to get some good gossip “Soldier, poet or king... which one would you pick?”

Usually Nesta didn’t feel comfortable talking about boys. Not yet. She kept it to herself so she didn’t look childish, but she still dreamed one day their father would gain back their fortune and she would be able to find a better man than the ones she could find in the village. But this time it was different, since it was just the three of them picking a character from a song. It was just an inocent pick. There were not soldiers, no poets and no kings there, so it meant nothing.

“Easy” said Elain “The poet is for me, the soldier for Nesta, and-”

“And the ruler for me?” Clare compleated, excited and already laughing at the idea. “I don’t know about that...”

Elain, who enjoyed this kind of games a little more than Nesta did, noded, also smiling, but with a glimpse of superiority in her gesture. “The ruler is for Feyre, dear” Her words came out sweet, but with a clear intention: to put Clare in her place. Her sister loved their friend as much as Nesta did, but sometimes she could get a little jelous if the two of them came too close and left her behind. Nesta coud understand that, it was only fair, so she allowed her to say this kind of things from time to time just to make her happy.

This time Elain was speaking the truth, though. Since they first heard the poem, the soldier had been for Nesta, a knight to protect her in her adventures. She used to play with the idea of the ruler as her pick, but she would never be satisfied with a throne that was given to her, she would rather take it herself. That’s why she needed a knight and his armies: to help her.

Then Feyre, who was the youngest and hadn’t got mutch of a personality when Elain and her became obsesed with the song, would marry the ruler and be queen. Easy.

“Finally, I would marry the poet, who, just like your musician wooer, would write a thousand poems and songs about my beauty and kindness” Elain explained to their mutual friend the story they had made up a long tme ago, when their mother was still alive and they enjoyed singing.

Now Nesta hardly ever did it, only when she felt comfortable enough to do so. With her sister and her best friend, she did, she felt safe.

“Nah, that would never work” Clare complained, taking Nesta out of her daydreaming.

“What part?” she asked.

“You and the soldier, silly!” she thought it was funny, but Nesta didn’t. The oldest of the Archeron frowned. “You could never be happy with a soldier, Nes. They work for kings, so his loyalty would be to someone else, not to you. Never to you.” Clare, who was sitted in the grass and leanin in one hand, lay down on the soil and rested her head on Nesta’s lap. “I know you, Nes, and you need someone you can always rely on, otherwise you won’t be satisfied. You don’t need the kind of safety a sword provides, you need reliability, and you would never find it in the soldier”.

Nesta’s brow was still frowned. She really didn’t like talking about boys.

“What do I need, then?”

“A poet, Nes” Clare’s voice was so  blissful she couldn’t help but relax her face. She ment no harm, she was not trying to ridiculize her by bringing up the subject. Clare didn’t even know she was so insecure about it. “You need a sensible soul to feel your pain and help you carry it. You have a wonderer soul yourself, so it would be a perfect match.”

“Is Tomas your poet, Nesta?” Elain asked, bringing herself back to the conversation. This hurt Nesta a little more, since Elain did know about it, but she let it go. It was just one of those moments of jelousy she felt sometimes.

“No” she replied. Tomas was none of the three. Not even close.

“Promise me, Nesta” Clare asked. She had her eyes closed and the breeze fluttered her short hair in Nesta’s lap. Years later, The oldest Archeron sister would go back to that exact moment and wonder if she had actually been that beautiful or it was just her brain tring to keep a good memory of her dead friend. But in that moment, she actualy saw her as a sleepy angel, gifting Nesta her heart. A blessing. “Promise me you won’t settle with the soldier and you will find a poet who makes you trully happy and is devoted to you”.

In that moment she thought her friend had Tomas in mind as “the soldier”, but now Nesta fantasized with the posibility of Clare talking about Cassian. Had she known something? Like a vision sent by a forgoten god from the mortal realm? What would her friend think if she saw her now, alone in a tent, cold, curled up in a tiny matress in the Illyrian Mountains, lost in her own pain because she had wanted to trust in the soldier’s word and he had failed her? He told Nesta they would have time and he would always find her, but Claire was right and his loyalty had never been hers. What had she done? What would she do from now on?

“I promise” a youg version of herself answered.

Clare smiled and pulled Nesta’s face close to her to kiss her again.

[saigonharrington]

🐚 hi love! could i request a fluffy cedric diggory blurb please? ♡♡ i'm Hero, i'm 5'2, i have big brown eyes, tan skin, and long brown wavy hair. I positively adore reading, writing, drawing and singing- i do this fun thing where i just find myself singing sometimes and i didn't even know. My favorite song is rainbow by dodie, sundresses 24/7, daisies are my favorite flower + i can make flower crowns, i'm a big dog person, and 'naturally' is my favorite word (weird fact ik) congrats again!! ♡♡♡

My rainbow — Cedric Diggory

It has 600/700 words i guess, i couldn’t help myself when this came to my head, hope you’ll like it, even though i didn’t use everything you wrote, please tell me what do you think about this!!!

-

You were sitting on a blanket on the Hogwarts grounds, sun shining on your face, even when you tried to hide under the tree.

It was Monday, one of the most hated, yet normal days at Hogwarts. You couldn’t complain, because on Mondays you didn’t have many lessons and had time to yourself.

One of your favorite songs didn’t want to leave your head, so you hummed quietly the words, trying to focus on drawing the school building. You wanted to draw your boyfriend, but he still didn’t show up, even though the potions' lesson that he had, ended a while ago.

People were coming out of the school, trying to spend a little time on fresh air, but he wasn’t there. You could wait, right? For him, you’d wait forever, even if you knew he wouldn’t come.

Being Cedric Diggory’s girlfriend was hard sometimes. He was yours for more than a year now, confirming his feelings towards you every ten seconds, but you saw that the other girls were making heart eyes to him. He was perfect in every way, a girl couldn’t dream of a better boyfriend.

“That’s wonderful.” Someone appeared behind you, scaring you a bit. “I have a talented girlfriend, do I?” Cedric sat next to you, after hugging you tightly.

“And I have a boyfriend who’s late. We really are a perfect duo.” You teased him, even though you weren’t angry at him.

“Yeah, we’re the best.” He admitted, getting comfortable and deciding to lay his head on your legs. “By the way, I spot a daisy on my way to you. Wait a second.”

He took a flower from his pocket, which was damaged from laying in such a small space, but still looked beautiful.

“How thoughtful of you. I may add it to a flower crown I’m making for you. I think I have half of what is needed.” You joked, however the thought of making him a flower crown didn’t sound stupid anymore. He would look adorable.

“I’ll try to pick more next time.” He sighed, looking worried. “I think sometimes about all the things we came through. How strong we became after every fight, even though these arguments were pointless.

I can say that you’re my rainbow. Every color means something, I associate them with emotions.

Blue is the sad one when one of us cries or feels down, and the other feels helpless. Green symbolizes calm, because I feel safe with you, and it reminds me of nature, where we spend our time the most. Yellow and orange ones are my favorite. They’re so bright, I associate them with the energy that we have, the joy that we bring to each other’s lives, cause when I’m with you, I’m happy, and I need nothing more.

Red symbolizes anger, which sometimes appears, but we’re only humans, right? And that means we’re in a healthy relationship, everyone argues about things, some little, some big.

But in the end, it all makes a rainbow. The beautiful one, made of all our experiences and feelings. Isn’t it amazing?” He asked you the question, noticing that tears were streaming down your face.

“What made you think about it? It didn’t come out of anywhere, did it?” You replied, trying to stay calm.

“Please don’t laugh, but we had an exam today, and I did terribly. The fact that it was in Snape’s class only makes it worse. If he’ll check what I had written, he might kill me. I had to confess my feelings in the most poetic way that I could because you always use fancy words.

Promise that you’ll miss me and will think about me every day, darling.” He stood up and fell on his knees dramatically, taking your hands in his.

“And I wanted to marry you and have a dog with you someday? You are something else, Diggory.” You pulled him closer, kissing him gently, not paying attention to other students at the grounds.

-

join my sleepover

[harrybabystyles]

Oh, Angel! (harry styles)

chapter four - m a s t e r l i s t -

warnings: language

a/n: this is my favorite chapter so far, I had so much fun writing it :)

I found myself annoyingly excited, practically bursting at the seams every time I thought about him, and the surprise date that was now only a few minutes away.

My friends were beside themselves, over the moon that I was going on an actual date. I can’t say I blame them, I hadn’t been on a date in well over a year, only hookups and one coffee get together. 

Although I hated how much I was looking forward to seeing Harry, I couldn’t help it, and I had the feeling that I wasn’t the only one who got so worked up over him. He was just so charming and kind, not to mention attractive, it was just something about him.

The fact that his little surprise date was most likely a one and done experience had me cherishing every moment even more. 

I knew it would be just for tonight, and I was okay with that.

My friends keep saying that we were meant to be and that we were defiantly getting together based on the fact that he wrote a fucking song about me, and even though my heart leaped at the thought of the song, I tried not to think about it due to the fact that every time I did, my head filled with a million questions, and it stressed me out. 

My friends were beyond disappointed when they couldn’t find the lyrics online, but to be fair we didn’t even know his last name, and he had only written it sometime between last Friday and Tuesday. 

Plus, if I was going to confront the song, I wanted to get the answers from him, not from the internet. 

But regardless, they all squealed when our buzzer rang.

“Who is it?” Paige replied in a sing song voice, smiling at me the whole time while I rolled my eyes.

“It’s Harry, I’m here for Anna” my stomach flipped at the sound of his voice, the low rolling tone perfectly highlighting his accent.

“God he’s hot” Harper groaned from the couch, and I shot her a “really” look, and she just shrugged.

“Alright, I’m off guys, see you later”

“I doubt it...” Evelyn starts, looking up from her phone, “...more like see you tomorrow morning” she winks at me, and I groan.

“I hate you all” I say beginning to walk out the door.

“No, you love us!” Harper yells as I click the door shut, and I hear Paige yell a mom like “be safe” before I head towards the elevator.

As I approach the doors of my apartment building, I see his silhouette standing tall just outside, his hands in the pockets of his dark skinny jeans, the loose fabric of his red floral shirt shifting as he straightens his posture, and his suede chelsea boots shuffling as he grabs the door from my hand.

“Hello, Anna” he greets, a smile tugging on his lips, and I smile back, “Evening, Harry” 

“So...what is the big surprise?” I ask, and he brings his hand up to tug on his bottom lip.

 “I can’t tell y’yet...” he leans in, “...it’s a surprise remember” he whispers.

“Oh, silly me” I say sarcastically, and the dimple in his cheek pokes out as his smirk grows. 

“Well, c’mon then” he gestures with his head, starting to walk away, and I have to jump forward to catch up to his big strides. We walk along the busy New York street, and he glances over to me every now and then, making sure I was keeping up. I glance over to him too, mostly in confusion, but every glance leaves me in awe at how truly gorgeous he is. 

I’m still convinced that he is an angel.

“Harry...” he turns to me instantly, his eyes scanning my face, “Where the hell are we going?” I laugh, and a smile pops back on his face. 

“Uh, uh, uh...” he tuts, waving his finger in the air, “...surprise, remember?” he reminds me and I roll my eyes, a smile on my face.

“Fine, but how much longer till we get to the surprise” I bring my fingers up to air quote surprise, and he shakes his head. 

“You really don’t know how surprises work” he tells me and I cross my arms over my chest, “I’m just impatient” I argue. 

“I can see that” he raises his eyebrows, and I shove his shoulder. He laughs, stumbling a bit to the side, but quickly regaining his balance. 

“We’re almost there” he tells me his voice soft as he leans in towards me, almost like it was a secret. I just give him a smile, and he returns it with an even brighter one. 

Eventually, we take a right, and it leads us to a large metal door, surronded by high fences that we couldn’t see over or in. 

“Harry?” He turns to me and smiles, “Where are we?” 

“Shh..” he places a finger over my lips, “...close your eyes” 

I raise my eyebrows, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Anna, just close your eyes” he laughs, and I sigh, closing my eyes. 

“If you peek, Anna, I will never forgive you” he states, and I laugh. 

“I won’t peek” I reassure him, and I hear the turning of a lock, and the rusty hinges of the metal door start to creak. 

“Promise?” he whispers, and I now notice how close he was, and my heart skips as his hands slide down my arms to take my hands in his. 

“I promise” 

The door creaks the rest of the way open, and he gently tugs on my hands to walk me forward. 

“I swear Harry, if you run me into a wall I will slap you” I threaten, and the vibrant laugh that rings through my hears makes a smile bloom on my face. 

“Don’t you trust me, Anna?” he says, and I can hear the playful sarcasm in his voice. 

“Hm...depends...” I tell him, and he gives out a small chuckle. The thick aroma of moisture hits my nose, just like the grass after it rains, and I quirk my eyebrows.

Where are we?

“Okay, you can open your eyes now, love” my heart skips as he uses that name again, a hopeless reaction that I sort of wished I didn’t have. I open my eyes, and look around.  

It was breathtaking, I was surrounded by lush green plants, the leaves holding drops of dew. There were flowers of every kind, roses, marigolds, daisies, tulips, and more I didn’t recognize.

I saw pumpkins, zucchinis, melons, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and in the corner a orange tree caught my eye. 

“Harry...” I gasp, and I see his presence out of the corner of my eye, his hands folded behind his back. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” 

“Its beyond beautiful...i-it’s...I don’t even have words” I chuckle out of pure joy, my eyes circling back onto him. 

His dimple was pressed deep into his cheek, his eyes bright and shinning and deeply green, matching the setting around him, the setting sun glinting on his skin from over the fence, his curls falling loosely around his face.

He is beyond beautiful too.

“I thought you might like it” he mumbles, stepping a bit closer to me, and I suck in a breath, realizing I wasn’t breathing. 

“I do...” I start to look around again, noticing some things I didn’t before like a swing in the right corner, and a fountain almost engrossed in the center of a cantaloupe patch, “...I love it” 

I had heard about these little community gardens, but I had never seen one before, and I had no idea that they were so precious, like a little pocket of heaven.

“Wait...” I say, turning my attention back towards Harry, “How do you have access to this? Isn’t your apartment still several blocks away?” 

“It’s my friend’s, he lives in this complex...he gave me a key, let’s me come here whenever I please” He shrugs and I nod. 

“Makes sense” I comment, and he smirks again. 

“Go on...” he gestures with his head, “...try something” 

“R-Really? I gape, and he laughs.

“Yeah, try anything you’d like” 

In a whirl of joyous emotion, I reach up and kiss him on the cheek, watching as his cheeks tint the lightest shade of pink, then I run straight to the orange tree, and he follows, watching as I pick a large one and start to peel it. 

“You’re not going to have one?” I ask, my fingers still working at peeling the orange, and he looks towards the tree. 

“Sure, why not?” he shrugs and picks an orange of his own. 

We are silent as we peel our oranges, making sure to place the peel in a neat pile by our feet, and I smile through the whole thing, my heart feeling like it’s floating. 

“You ready?” he asks, picking off a slice of his orange and I do the same.

“Yeah...” I nod, and look up to him, “One...two...three...”

We both plop an orange slice into our mouths, and I close my eyes at the explosion of flavor that slides all around my mouth and down my throat. 

“Holy shit” I mumble, my mouth still full of orange, and plop another slice in. 

He laughs with his mouth full, almost spitting orange all out the place and I giggle, “What?”

He swallows, “Slow down, Anna! There will be no choking tonight” 

I laugh, and shrug, “Its just so delicious!” I exclaim, and he chuckles, nodding his head in agreement. 

We continue to try several other fruits, Harry following me closely and trying everything I try, even though I’m sure he has tried all of them before. 

I had never tasted fruit that amazing, and I was sure that the grocery store fruit I usually ate was ruined for me. 

We stayed well after dark, and I was dazzled when rows and rows of lights came on above us after I complained about it being dark and Harry promptly walked over to a switch and flipped it on. It was so beautiful and precious, and I felt like I could stay in the little garden my whole life and never be anything but happy. When I was so full I physically couldn’t eat anymore, I helped Harry pick up all out peels and stems and placed them in a compost bin by the door, and he switched the light off as we excited the garden. 

My heart tugged at leaving that place, and the feelings I felt when I was there, I felt like I wasn’t even on earth, like I was actually up in heaven. 

“Thank you...” I begin, watching as Harry locks the metal door and smirks at me.

“Don’t thank me yet...” I quirk my eyebrows at him and he leans in, “...I have one more thing to show you” 

I raise my eyebrows, “Is that so?” I question as he calls over a cab. 

He just gives me a mischievous nod, and opens the cab door for me. I climb in without another word, and he walks around to climb in next to me. 

Harry gives the driver directions, and money to pay for the cab, and I furrow my eyebrows when she just sits there, her mouth hanging wide open. 

“Ma’am-”

“You’re Harry Styles!” she cuts me off, and I look at Harry whose expression hardens. 

“That is correct” he informs her, and gives her a small smile, but I can see his jaw clench, his whole body tensing up as he avoids looking at me. 

“Holy shit! Harry Styles is in my cab!” She jumps up and down, “I’m a huge fan”

I look at Harry confused, but he keeps his eyes to his hands, twisting the rings on his fingers. 

“I’m Jessica” she reaches out her hand, and he smiles, shaking it.

“Nice to meet you, Jessica” he gives her a smile smile, and I can see the squeal that she tries to suppress, “Holy shit” she mumbles before pulling onto the road. 

The ride is silent, and I scan his face as he continues to look at his hands, his demeanor suddenly closed off and reserved.

The cab comes to a stop a few minutes later, and I recognize the building as Harry’s apartment building, the one I was at only last Friday. 

“Thank you” I tell the driver, but she completely ignores me, burning her eyes into Harry as he thanks her as well and gets out. 

He walks over to me, and I see him suck in a deep breath. 

“You okay?” I ask, looking for his eyes, and he looks back to the cab disappearing behind a corner before finally looking at me again. 

“Yeah” he smiles, “Never better”

I don’t push him, and let it slide, even though I knew something was definitely wrong in the cab, and give him a smile, to which he returns. 

We walk in and Harry greets the doorman and pretty much every single staff member that we walked by, and we step into the elevator. 

I quirk my eyebrows at him when he presses the button for the roof, and he smiles, “There is something I want to show you” he explains.

“I thought the garden was the surprise” 

“It was one, but I have another” he shrugs, and I smile.

“A double surprise...your’e really stepping up your game Harry” I brush his shoulder with mine playfully and he runs a hand through his hair. 

“It’s the least I can do after I made y’faint yesterday” 

I face palm, feeling the heat in my cheeks. “...that is so embarrassing” I mumble.

“...But don’t give yourself all the credit, it was mostly stress and dehydration” I explain, and he gives me a worried look. 

“About that...and tell me if I’m overstepping, but...is it true you lost your job?” 

I look to the ground, feeling anxiety rise in my chest, twisting my stomach in knots. 

“Uh, yeah...I did” I whisper, and I feel his hands on the sides of my arms. 

“I’m sorry, Anna” he whispers, and I shrug, “Its not your fault, shit just happens sometimes” I tell him, and I can feel him looking for my eyes, but the elevator doors slide open before I look back up from my hands. 

“Now, for surprise number two” he places his hand on the small of my back like he always does, and we step out in a small hallway, with a door to the right. 

“Close your eyes again” he instructs, and I do so with a groan. 

“Atta girl!” he exclaims, taking my hands and moving me along. I feel the night air rush past me as we step out of the building, and I feel the familiar whipping air around me that only comes from standing on a roof. 

“Remember when you told me that you go to the roof when you can’t sleep?” He asks, and I nod. 

“Well...I’ve been thinking a lot about that, and I even tried it a few times myself...” I raise my eyebrows, my heart swelling at the thought of him thinking about me, “...and I must say, it is my new favorite thing to do, but...” he pauses, and I feel his body get slightly closer, and his hand brushing down the side of my face, “...I knew I had to do it with you to get the whole experience” 

My heart skips, and I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips. 

“Y’can open your eyes” he whispers, his breath fanning over the side of my face. 

I flutter my eyes open, my breath immediately getting hitched in my throat. The feeling that erupted in my chest was similar to the one I felt when I looked out his apartment window Friday.

The sparkling lights and the energy radiating off the city was like no other, and that same streak of hope flickered in my heart. 

My eyes scanned over the city once again, slowly taking in different aspects of the busy streets, and I can’t help but smile. I feel Harry’s warmth press up against me as he slides a hand down my back, sending chills up my spine. 

“Harry...if you keep leaving me breathless like this I might pass out again” I say, looking at him as he throws his head back with laughter. 

“That was the point” he tells me and I furrow my brows at him. 

“To get me to pass out again?” I cross my arms, a smirk on my face. 

“No, no...” he shakes his head, running his hand through his hair again, “...to make you breathless...like how you leave me breathless” his voice is low, and his body is closer to mine now, his eyes dancing around my face. 

I can’t help the fireworks that set off in my chest, I wish I could, but I welcome the feeling no less.

My mind thinks back to yesterday, and the song that he wrote about me, some of the lyrics stuck in my head like a piece of old gum to the bottom of a shoe. 

“Harry?” I whisper, and his eyes flicker between my own as I look up to him. 

“Anna” he says, low and deep, and I smile, those fireworks setting off again. 

“Why did you write a song about me?” 

He sighs, a smile forming on his lips, and looks off to the city for a moment before returning his gaze to me. 

“Song writing has become...very raw... for me,” his voice is just above a whisper, and I feel his hand brush a strand of hair behind my ear, “I write about feelings that I can’t quite wrap my head around, or that I need to understand better...” he explains, “...and you, Anna, gave me feelings that I couldn’t quite understand, I couldn’t get you out of my head” 

My heart switches between stopping completely and running like a racehorse, and it leaves me with this fluttering feeling deep in my chest that sucks the breath from my lungs.

He sure is succeeding at leaving me breathless.

By now my body is facing his, and his hands are resting just above my elbows, his chest close to mine. 

“Will you sing it to me?” I ask, my voice gentle under the noise from the ground below, and I bring my hands up to rest on his warm chest. 

“Sure..” he smiles, “...on one condition” 

“What’s that?” I smile, fidgeting with the button on his shirt. 

“We dance” he says, his voice so soft that it almost gets carried away in the wind. 

“Okay” I bite my lip, and he takes his hand in mine, my other hand settling around his neck, and his other one settling on my waist. Surely anyone watching would think we were crazy, but it felt right, it didn’t feel weird at all.

“Don’t know where your’e laying...just know it’s not with me” 

His voice is perfect, gentle but strong as it floats into my ears, a subtle rasp behind every note, and we sway slowly back and forth as he continues on. 

“Don’t know what I’d tell you if, I passed you on the street...I don’t want your sympathy but you don’t know what you do to me, oh, Anna” 

I recall the guitar and backup vocals from when he performed it yesterday, and I smile thinking about how upbeat the song is. 

“Every time I see your face there is only so much I can take, oh Anna” 

When my name rolls of his lips my heart beats a little bit faster, and knowing the lyrics are about me is tying my stomach in knots, but in a good way. 

“Don’t know how you taste when there’s smoke in your perfume, chew me up and spit me out, nothing left to do...I don’t want your sympathy but you don’t know what you do to me, oh, Anna” 

My eyebrows knit in confusion at the second verse, but I make a mental note to ask him about them later.

“Every time I see your face there’s only so much I can take, oh, Anna”

He starts to sing the guitar solo, and I laugh, looking up at him as he lets out a chuckle too. 

“I don’t want your sympathy but you don’t know what you do to me, oh, Anna...every time I see your face there is only so much I can take, oh Anna...hope you never hear this, but know that its for you...don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth” 

He takes a deep breath in, and we continue to sway back and forth as his voice carries through the air. 

“I don’t want your sympathy but you don’t know what you do to me, oh, Anna...every time I see your face there is only so much I can take, oh Anna“

 By this time during his performance, I was already woozy, and my head had been spinning. He hums another guitar solo, and I slowly recognize it. 

“Is that George Micheal?” I burst and he scoffs. 

“Rude to interrupt someone when they are performing, Anna...” he tells me with a smirk, “...but, yes, it is”

I mumble a sorry and he smiles, taking in a breath before he continues. 

“Well, I guess it would be nice if I could touch your body...if I could touch your body...if I could touch your body...if I could touch your body” 

My cheeks heat as his voice carries the notes perfectly, and I smile to myself as he finishes the song off with one last run of the chorus, before pulling away and bowing like he was actually on stage. 

“So...what did y’think?” he asks, stepping back towards me and pulling me into his chest, I can hear the nervous tones in his voice and I smile.

“I love it, and your voice is incredible” I comment, and if I wish it wasn’t so dark so I could see the blush that rises to his cheeks as he looks down. 

“I do have a question” 

“Go ahead” he instructs, and I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him to me as nervous energy starts to flow out of him. 

“What did you mean when you talked about smoke in my perfume?” I ask, shyly, and his chest bumps as he laughs lightly.

“Well...” he begins, “...I went to this place, an old pub down town, and there was a girl there, she was wearing a very similar dress to the one you wore Friday...” I look up at him, watching as he looks out over the city, “...immediately you popped into my head, and it got me thinking about if you smoked, or what it would be like if we smoked together...” he softens his voice as he looks back down on me, meeting my eyes, “...how your lips would taste with a cigarette in them just a few moments prior...or how my sheets would smell with your scent and smoke wrapped up in them” 

His eyes float down to my lips and back up as he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, and that warmth from last Friday returns deep in my belly.

“Anna...” he whispers, his voice so low my stomach flips. 

“Harry” I reply, and he smirks.

“Why won’t you get out of my head?” 

I scoff lightly and laugh, “Funny, I could ask you the same thing” 

My eyes flip to his lips, and I feel my heart start to race as we slowly get closer and closer, his breath fanning over my face.

Our lips just brushing together when my phone starts to buzz, and I jump, immediately fetching it out of my pocket. 

“Hello?” I blink, as Harry scratches the back of his neck, and I give him a small smile.

“Hey, Anna, it’s Claire” 

My heart jumps at the voice of my sister, and I smile. 

“Hey! What’s up?” 

She starts to talk, but I find myself struggling to listen to her words as Harry’s lips land on my face peppering my cheek with small kisses. 

I giggle and try to push him away, a low chuckle rising out of his chest.

“Uh, Anna?...Is this a bad time?” I can hear her laugh on the other end of the phone, and I blush completely turning away from Harry as he tries to keep kissing me. 

“No, no-” 

Harry’s lips attach to my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist from behind, and my whole body freezes. 

“I’ll just call you tomorrow” she giggles, and I start to panic, taking in a breath. 

“Claire-” 

“Have fun, Anna, but not too much fun” She hangs up and I sigh, Harry’s lips still lapping the skin on my neck.

“Harry” I groan, and I feel him smile against my skin.

“I couldn’t let her ruin our moment” he explains, pressing his cheek against my own, holding me close to him.

“I hadn’t talked to her in two days you jerk” I spit, but a smile is on my face, and I chuckle, “...you couldn’t wait?”

“I’ve been waiting all day” he comments, and I roll my eyes.

“If you waited all day, you could’ve waited five more minutes” I tell him and he grazes his lips over my ear.

“Would it really be five more minutes though?” he whispers, and my stomach does another flip.

“No...” I admit, and I can practically see the proud smile on his face.

“The way I see it, I did us both a favor” he shrugs and I scoff.

“Yeah, uh huh” I reply sarcastically, and I feel his chest vibrate with a low chuckle. His lips are back on my face, placing kisses on my cheek and down to my shoulder, I close my eyes and melt into his chest.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?” he asks, placing a slow kiss on my shoulder.

I shake my head, “I don’t believe so”

“Well, you do...you look absolutely stunning” he mumbles into my neck, and I feel my spine tingle, and my cheeks redden.

“Thank you...” I turn in his arms so that I am facing him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, “...like seriously, thank you, for the garden and bringing me up here...” I look out at the city and smile, “...it’s been perfect”

“Are you breathless?” he whispers, his hands pulling me closer to him by my hips.

“I am, actually” I laugh, and he grins.

“Good” he smiles, and I catch his eyes again, and notice how they look almost grey in this lighting.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and butterflies swarm in my stomach, my heart racing.

“Of course” I reply, smiling as his lips connect with mine, the distant taste of the fruits we had at the garden dancing on his lips.

Oranges, cherries, and blueberries popping into my mouth in waves, and the taste only gets more intense as his tongue slips into my mouth.

My fingers knot in his hair, and he presses gently on my back, pushing me further into him. Our mouths mash together, moving and twisted with each other as we melt into one another, and as time slips away, our kisses get rough until we pull away gasping, begging for air.

“Goddamn...” he breathes, resting his forehead against mine, and we both let out a breathless chuckle.

We take a few moments, panting and smiling to ourselves over the kisses we just shared, and when our breathing returns to normal, he pulls me into an embrace and we silently look back out at the city.

His warmth was comforting, and listening to his heart thud in his chest put my mind and body to rest, a wave of peace washing over my being.

It felt so good to be in his arms, like nothing could get to me, it felt like I was above the rest of the world, looking over the city, like he was my wings, lifting me higher and higher.

But my heart sinks, and I feel that all too familiar anxiety stir in my chest.

I can’t get my hopes up, I had recently just met him, and I can’t tell myself he will still want me tomorrow, because in reality, he won’t.

We will split, and he will carry on with his life and so will I, we will go our separate paths, I can’t get attached to him.

I sigh and push away from his chest, “I- I should go, it’s getting late” I mumble, and I can’t look him in the eyes, I just stare at my hands.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I can sleep on the couch if you’d like...”

“I don’t know Harry, I don’t want to be a bother...”

“Stop” he interrupts, and I sigh, “You are never a bother, never” I can feel him looking for my eyes but I avoid them.

“Hey...” he coos, running his hands down my arms, “...what’s the matter?” I hear the concern in his voice, and I blow a heavy breath out of my lips.

“I just don’t want to get in the way...plus, it will be easier to leave now then in the morning” my voice is hushed as I fidget with my fingers, and he sighs.

“You think I’m just going to use you and run?” he asks, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

“Aren’t you?”

“Anna, I know we just met, but I don’t plan on leaving your life anytime soon...” he takes a deep breath in, and I do too, “...truth is, I’m hooked on y’like a drug, probably couldn’t stay away from y’if I tried” he gives off a soft laugh, and a small smile tugs on my lips.

“You mean that?” I ask, my fingers now fidgeting with the button on his shirt, and I finally meet his eyes again.

“With everything that I am” he says, his eyes flickering between my own, “I would never lie to you”

I can hear the honesty behind his throat, and deep down I know he is telling me this from the most sincere part of his heart, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of me.

“C’mon, please stay the night, it’s already very late” he pleads, and I give him a small nod.

He smiles at me and I take his hand, following him back into the elevator, down his hallway, and into his apartment.

My eyes float over the familiar room, events from Friday popping up in my mind.

“Let me get you something to sleep in” he says, disappearing into his room, and returning a few minutes later with a stack of clothes.

“Wasn’t sure what you liked, but I brought a shirt and some sweat pants” he points to the clothes in his hands and gives them to me, and I can tell he is trying his hardest to make me feel comfortable and safe.

“Thank you, they are perfect” I smile at him, and he smiles back.

“Bathroom is right down there, and there should be a new toothbrush under the sink, along with some toothpaste” he points down the hallway to a crisp white door, and I follow his directions.

I strip down to just my underwear and pull his t-shirt over my body, his scent washing over me.

He always smells so good.

I leave the sweatpants off, knowing I’ll be more comfortable in just his shirt and brush my teeth before exiting the bathroom, leaving the toothbrush on the sink.

I find him setting up his couch for him to sleep on, laying down blankets and a pillow.

“Harry?” his head whips to me in a flash, and he strides over to me as I give him back his sweatpants.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch” I whisper, and he shakes his head, “I really don’t mind, I want you to feel comfortable” he says back, and my heart melts.

“I’ll feel more comfortable in your arms” I tell him, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Are you sure-“

I place my finger against his lips, his words cutting off.

“I want you to stay with me” I demand, and he gives me a soft smile.

“If that’s what you want...” he raises his eyebrows and I nod.

“That’s what I want”

He nods and takes my hand, leading me into his bedroom, and I look out the window as he puts his sweat pants away, and turns off the lights that were left on through out the apartment.

“Let me just get ready real quick” he mumbles, disappearing into his bathroom to brush his own teeth, and he reappears in loose sweats, his chest bare.

My breath hitches at the sight, I forgot how beautiful his tattoos were...

“Here” he says, lifting up the duvet on his bed and letting me crawl in it before he does the same.

I immediately scoot close to him, my arm wrapping around his waist as he slips one under me, his other folded behind his head as he rests on his back.

His skin feels even warmer than before, spreading deep into my bones as he traces invisible patterns on my shoulder, his eyes scanning the city outside his window.

We lay there as time slips away, neither of us sleeping, just our slow breaths and steady hearts, and I feel safe.

I feel protected in his arms, and for now I am reassured that he won’t just pack up and leave, that he actually will stay, and even when my eyes get heavy, I let them fall, knowing he will be there in the morning, knowing he will stay for at least another day.

[naturepointstheway]

“Opera” (#BatB14Fics)

Another entry for #batb14fics, using the prompt “Opera”. Prince Adam looks for Lumiere, desiring to give him a birthday present he has created himself.

Also, I lied: not all of these remaining prompts will be crossovers, as this one is firmly in the BatB universe.

@tinydooms @morgaine2005 @dand3l1on-fluff @rose-of-the-underworld @astudyinchocolate @sweetfayetanner @lumiereswig @batbobsession

The boy prince is eight, grinning ear to ear, his hands held behind his back as he sidles around a corner of the courtyard in search of Lumiere (his birthday today!) or Plumette. Either will do, really, but he’s looking for Lumiere more than he is Plumette--his mother has told him she saw them somewhere outside, near one of the fountains. No doubt, they’re likely at their favourite fountain at the far corner of the gardens. 

Adam turns another corner, dashing forward to peek around, the paper in his hands clutched against the tugging wind that would love to look at his penned opera. The sun’s rays send dancing spotlights of midday white through jittering leaves and swishing dancing branches, like the fluttering fingers of ballerinas during the climax of a ballet. A black spider skitters away from his pointed shoe as he sidles along a wall, having spotted Lumiere and Plumette talking up ahead, their heads leaning and voices whispering. Plumette’s fingers reach up and tuck a strand of Lumiere’s hair behind his ear, murmuring about how he should get Mrs Potts to give him a haircut for once, and not try it on himself. 

Adam doesn’t bother to hide his grin or his glittering eyes, proud of the gift in his hidden hands, as he tries to creep toward the couple without them spotting him. He is only a few feet away when Plumette spots him out of the corner of her eye and turns her head to regard him with a warm smile that, to Adam, might well be as warm as the sun itself. Lumiere turns his gaze from her to Adam too. 

“Adam! What’re you looking so pleased about?” Plumette enquires, tilting her head this way and that with a small smile. 

Adam strides up to Lumiere, who straightens up, his thumbs latching in his pockets. 

“My prince, what can I do for you?” 

“Close your eyes!” 

“Whatever for?” 

“Because it’s your birthday, Lumiere,” Adam explains like it should be as obvious as the bright blue sky above and the nodding daisies in the grass underfoot. 

An amused Lumiere shuts his eyes tight. 

“Hold out your hands,” Adam directs, and when Lumiere obediently does so, the boy profers the paper he had been holding behind his back, and, after carefully ensuring that the paper is not too crinkled nor are they out of order (he marked the pages in big circled numbers on the top right corner), Adam places the four leaves in his favourite servant’s hands. Lumiere, seeming to sense that it is paper he is holding, closes his thumbs and fingers over the paper so they do not blow away with the wind. Plumette sidles over to Lumiere’s side, looking over his shoulder, raising herself on tiptoes to take a gander at the gift.

“Open your eyes, Lumiere!” Adam declares, bouncing on his toes with excitement, eager to see what the servant thinks of his present. 

Lumiere opens his eyes, looking immediately at the paper in his hands. 

“It’s an opera I wrote! Just for you and Plumette!” 

Plumette’s hands fly to her heart, her dark eyes full of smiles and delight. Lumiere gasps dramatically, holding the opera script out at arm’s length, reading the title. 

“Plumette and Lumiere,” he reads aloud, “A Tale as old as Time. That’s quite the title, my prince! What happens in it? Is there music?” 

“You fall in love in it,” Adam says, “And you go on lots of adventures and discover a hidden beast in a far away country.” 

“Oooh!” Lumiere is positively jubilant, and he bends down to grab Adam in a tight hug, ruffling his hair playfully with one hand. “A far away country, huh?” he echoes, releasing Adam. “Where’s this country I may ask?” 

“Scotland!” 

“The wild green of Scotland?” 

“In a mysterious part of Scotland.” 

“Have you come up with the music as well?” Plumette asks, crouching down to Adam’s level, opening her arms for a hug too. “Or is that still yet to be composed?” 

“I haven’t asked Chapeau yet,” Adam confesses in a hushed voice, like this is a terrible admittance, “But I think he will make the best music for the songs.” 

“But of course!” Lumiere exalts, flinging his arms wide, “He is, after all, most excellent with the violin, is he not?” 

“Do you want to come with me and ask him?” Adam asks, holding out a hand, delighted that Lumiere has been so delighted by his birthday present--an opera he had created himself! 

Plumette and Lumiere glance at each other, and in unison, they both take one of Adam’s hands in theirs. 

“Let’s go find Chapeau to create some fine music for the Prince’s finest opera in all of France,” Lumiere grins, squeezing Adam’s hand. 

And the three are off, opera fluttering in Lumiere’s hand, Adam between him and Plumette, holding on to their hands like he never wants to let them go, not for all the operas in the world. 

[summeryoongki]

85 Questions Game

85 Questions Game ~

i was tagged forever ago by my beautiful wife @sarangtaee i literally havent been on this blog in months sorry 

⇢ Rules: Answer these 85 questions about yourself and tag 20 people

Originally posted by mimibtsghost

⇢ Last:

Drink: diet Candada Dry

📱Call: i just ordered chinese food bih

Text Message: three upside down smiley face emojis by the one and only @sarangtaee

Song you listened to: Get on Your Knees by Nikki Minjaj ft. Ariana Grande

Time you 😢: Yesterday watching a documentary about Jonestown

⇢ Ever:

Dated someone twice: yes unfortunately

😘 someone and regretted it: nope

Been cheated on: yep

Lost someone special: by death? thankfully no. in other ways? yes

Gotten drunk and thrown up: no i took 6 jello shots the other day and felt absolutely nothing. one hit from a bong and im faded though explain that science

⇢ In the last year, have you:

Made new friends: yep! and im so happy for it. they are amazing

Fallen out of 💛: actually ive fallen for someone and it sucks

😂 until you 😢: yes

Found out someone was talking about you: yes but not negatively at least to my knowledge

Met someone who changed you: my new friends have made me happier and i like being alive again. id say that is a change

Found out who your friends are: yeah

😘 someone on your Facebook friends list: no, unfortunately

⇢ General:

How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them. I dont friend people i dont know or like

Do you have any pets: i have 3 kitties

Do you want to change your name: i do, id change it to luna

What did you do for your last 🎂: i literally dont remember

What time did you wake up today: 6 am

What were you doing at midnight last night: sleeping

What is something you can’t wait for: to meet my soulmate. hopefully i can muster up the courage to tell him i like him

What are you listening to right now: Phil DeFranco tell me the news rundown

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yeah i used to work with a guy names tom, he was a hoot and definetly eccentric

Something that gets on your nerves: people that get in other peoples way, humans in general

Most visited website: snapchat and instagram

Hair color: natural medium brown with teal tips

Long or short hair: its medium short atm

What do you like about yourself: my creativity and adventurousness and my empathy

Want any piercings: i have many and id like a couple more

Blood type: A+

Nicknames: Micky, Kenzie, Kizie

Relationship status: single and pining after a boy who only sees me as a friend

Zodiac sign: Cancer Sun, Rising,/Leo Moon

Pronouns: i hate this question

Favorite 📺 show: if i had to choose 1 it would be the office

Tattoos: 2

Right or left handed: right but im kind ambidextrous 

Ever had surgery: ive had a few teeth taken out

Piercings: many

Sports: ew

Dream Vacation: south korea, japan, greece, hawaii

Trainers: what are you asking me? i had a personal trainer almost kill me, and i have sneakers?

Eating: fried rice

Drinking: water

I’m about to watch: jessie smiles

Waiting for: Myself to gain some courage to tell my co worker that i like him

Want: my coworker

Get married for: raw, real, supportive love

Career: id like to be a zoologist or an interior designer

Hugs or kisses: neither if they arent from my SO, both if they are

👄 or eyes: eyes, i love eyes. i draw them on everything and i love looking into the eyes of someone i love

Shorter or taller: taller. i like being the little 

Older or younger: dont care as long as i like them and they are responsible

Nice arms or stomach: i dont have either, on a guy? arms, *shvers* the guy i like has nice arms with some good subtle veins happenin

Hookup or relationship: relationship, i cant do hookups i got an old civil war era piece of equipment and thats all she wrote

Troublemaker or hesitant: im hesitant and troublemaker are annoying like the paul brothers

⇢ Have you ever:

😘 a stranger: no

Drank hard liquor: vodka? yes

Lost glasses: no

Turned someone down: yeah a couple times

Sex on first date: never

Broken someone’s ️❤️: perhaps?

Had your 💔: too many times, thats why i cant tell the guy i like him. im norma jean

Been arrested: no

😢 when someone died: yes ugh so many times, mostly book movie chatcters but also all those children at Jonestown

Fallen for a friend: yes story of my life

⇢ Do you believe in:

Yourself: no, thanks childhood!

Miracles: yep

💛 at first sight: yes bc i have experienced a version of this. the first time i saw my bestfriend walk through my 7th grade ancient civilizations class, i knew i had known her in a previous life, with absolutely no doubt

😘 on the first date: actually i dont know

Angels: maybe. i dont think they would have fluffy wings and halos though

⇢ Other:

Best friend’s name: im not sure thats for anybody else to know since one of them is @sarangtaee

Eye color: olive green

Favorite Movie: i have so many, harry potter, forest gump, matilda, Guardians of the Galaxy, X-Men and many more

Favorite actor: Evan Peters, Aubrey Plaza

Favorite Food: Japchae, Alfredo pasta, Fried Rice, Pizza, Deviled Eggs, Watermelon, Peaches, Cherries

Extrovert or Introvert: Introvert all the ways

Favorite flower: Daisies, lotus, Sunflowers, dahlias, foxgloves, moonflowers

Favorite Hello 🐈 characters: i dont know what this is asking me sorry

And i will not tag anyone since i barely use this account and i have almost no followers, why did i do this? well i guess i just like talking about myself 

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss Episode One: Savior Family

“SEASON ONE BEGINS! When E.L.F. gets hired to save a demonized survivor, things sure do happen.”

Part One: Mrs. Mayberry

Once upon a time, there was an innocent lovely blonde teacher named Mrs. Mayberry.

 She taught at a red schoolhouse with a little golden bell at the top of it. “Learning is fun,” was written in bright yellow letters on the side of the building with art of colorful kites and a rainbow on it. A sign at the front read “Puppies Junior School” in sunlight. There were tall green trees and a playground off to the side. The golden bell rang for the start of the day. A blue jay and a cardinal sang from a tree branch as the teacher opened the white curtains.

 The Vivziepop lookalike woman wrote “Good morning!” in white chalk on the green blackboard.

  “Good morning!” She twirled in a dance, catching her piece of chalk. She wore a white shirt with colorful red cherries and a long blue-gray skirt. A green pendant rested on her shirt. She wore cherry earrings and round yellow glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a flower-like shape behind her. “Have a bright and sunny day” was written on a poster with a large smiling sun with big eyes on it. Nearby was a calendar and an old boxy computer on a desk. A white daisy was in a flower pot. “The word of the day is harmony,” was written on a schedule posted on a board behind the children sitting at desks. The orange curtains by the windows had white math symbols on it. The schedule read “math, history, reading, grammar, science, art and music” as the many school subjects for the days of the week.

 “I hope you all did your homework!” she trilled.

  The children nodded with a dance to their bodies. One boy wearing an orange shirt spun around in a stool wearing a dunce cap and he faced the wall. The class broke out randomly into song.

 “We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!”

 The teacher sang, “And when I throw out these fun questions, you should know just what to do.”

 “Okay!” they cheered, arms in the air.

 She wrote on the board 2 + 6 = 8 and added,

“Two plus six is…”

 “Eight!” the class answered.

 “And good behavior’s…”

 “Great!” they chimed in.

 “And now it’s that part of the class when we say the time of day and date.”

 “It’s nine in the morning,” sang a blonde boy…

 “On January 8th…” added a black girl.

 “The sun is out smiling,” said a brown haired girl with a bow.

 “And it’s your husband’s birthday!” reminded the dunce boy with his tongue out.

 As the class sang “la la la,” the teacher found herself scrapping her chalk down in a line on the board. Sweat coated her forehead as the chalk was almost completely broken down. The singing was a constant drone in her head. Her right eye twitched and she turned around.

 “Oh my stars, stop singing children! Hush up now!”

 The class fell silent.

 She put a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it’s my husband’s birthday! I didn’t get him anything special.”

 The brown haired girl stood up and said, “Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!”

 The teacher and kids gathered around the boxy computer. At the husband’s house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read “wifey” on it.

 The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

 The teacher’s husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!

 A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.

 “We won’t be needing this,” a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry’s face on the other side.

 The teacher sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

 “Oh yeah,” the husband giggled, “Not there, not there.” They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.

 With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

 There was a long pause, the class nervous about what she would do next.

 …

 Instead of doing an action she would soon regret, Mrs. Mayberry took a deep breath and pat the girl on the head.

 “You’re right,” she said. “It’s time to settle this, reasonably.”

 She got into her green car with “I love school” on the license plate and headed home on the road. The kids looked out the window and then at the computer.

 “Oh sweetie,” said James to Mrs. Mayberry as she came home. “What are you doing here?”

 “Shut up! I could ask her the same thing,” Mrs. Mayberry retorted with a glare at the blonde lady underneath him.

 “Well, I met her at a gun show and decided to take her home for some fun…”

 “No.”

 “What? It’s just for a day.”

 Mrs. Mayberry crossed her arms. “We were going to have a family. And you then decide to hook up with her behind my back? What were you thinking?!”

 “Well…she is pretty hot…”

 Mrs. Mayberry’s face turned red and she growled. Her fists clenched and her eyes narrowed to a nearby gun hanging ominously on the wall…

 Mrs. Mayberry closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 “You’re…you’re not gonna kill us, are you?” her husband asked with fear in his words.

 “No,” Mrs. Mayberry declared. “But I will file for divorce. Now if you two love each other so much…get the dying buck out of my house!”

 The couple obliged, leaving the school teacher sitting on her bed, head buried in her hands.

 The children watched her sadly on the other side of the screen.

 “Oh? I’m so sorry, children,” she said as she saw them. “Don’t forget to work on your timestamps. I’ll be back soon.”

 The children nodded and went back to their desks.

 0 0 0

 Mrs. Mayberry narrated as she paced the E.L.F. office floor:

 “I was a good person before it all went down. I was decent my entire life. You try your best at everything, learn from all your trials…and by some stroke of luck, you end up in Heaven with all the Martin Luther Kings and Teresas of the world. After almost being sent to Hell for one bad mistake. So I am here now…to make further amends.”

 Mrs. Mayberry stepped into the light from the window. She was now an angel, with white hair in a similar flowery shape she had in life. White wings were folded behind her and a white halo hovered above her head. She wore her usual square thin glasses and her light purple dress was decorated with cherries. In the center were her pendant used to be on her chest was a small golden eye. Her feline-like eyes were a brilliant emerald green that sometimes appeared golden in the sunlight. Additionally, she had a small furry cat tail and white cat ears with cherry earrings on them.  In Heaven, she was a popular preschool teacher and flying instructor to the little angel children.

 The head elf of E.L.F., Docile, listened intently from his office chair.

 “Interesting. So your husband Jarold had sex with Martha…”

 “James and Mary,” Mrs. Mayberry corrected.

 “Sorry,” Docile said. “Both of them survived. How are they now?”

 Mrs. Mayberry sighed. “My husband eventually got tired of Mary and started nasty rumors about her being a whore. Mary felt bad about what she did and offered to make it up for me. But by then, I had decided to adopt a few kids to call my own. I worked at school and made sure my kids got a great education, of course. Their names are June and Cherry, by the way.”

 “Lovely names!” Docile beamed.

 “Thank you. But…last time I checked before my death, James had died. I died of Covid several years after my kids became teens.”

 “Sorry to hear. But why come to us?” Docile asked, standing up. “E.L.F. aims to save those who are still alive, and from the looks of things, the people you knew in your life appear to either be in Heaven or Hell.”

 “Not all of them,” Mayberry explained. “Mary is still alive. Now they all call her a villain.”

 0 0 0

 “How does it feel to be such a crazy bitch?” one woman reporter mocked the blonde Mary.

 “I just hope my friend Mayberry has it better than you,” she spat.

 “You are a coward. I’ll steal your money!”

 “No thank you!” Mary glared as she and her husband Ralph shoved the reporters aside.

 Mayberry explained, “Between the insults and remarks, my poor friend got into so much debt and depression. Being spared was the worst thing to happen to her!”

 “You’re a villain!” mocked a reporter.

 “You’re a villain, girl!” said an angry jogger, bumping into her on purpose.

 “Ooooh, a big bad villain you are!” smirked her husband when they were in bed, the only time she liked being called that.

 “My mama’s a villain to villains!” her son declared, wearing a baseball cap.

 “She is a villain!” remarked the smiling brown-haired cashier lady, Brook with an otherworldly look in her eyes.

 “You’re a villain!” cried a pagan hippie, scooting away from Mary against doors with pentagrams on it.

 “You’re a villain?!” exclaimed the children as they stared in confusion as Mary taught a “How to Deal With Heartbreak 101” class.

 Mary cried as she came down with a deathly illness as her family watched. “Maybe I am a villain whore,” she thought, silently praying to God. “I’ve made mistakes…I just want to do more good in this world. Please, help me…”

 “She’s not a villain!” yelled Mrs. Mayberry in frustration, getting into Docile’s face.

 “Oh yes, yes, my thoughts exactly,” Docile said with a nervous look. He repeatedly pushed a button under his desk.

 The red light lit up over a label that read “Distressed Client.” The other labels read “More Tea,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Fell Asleep,” “Entranced Client,” “Ghost,” and “Samael.”

 In another room, a black-haired elf Tirred was busy giving CPR to a family of mannequins lying down on the floor. Tirred hesitated when he came up to the woman mannequin wearing a Satanic necklace.

 “Tirred, stop shaking,” his girlfriend Timmid said. “You’re gonna accidentally press against our only Heaven Cat!”

 Sunna the cat lay down nearby, wearing her usual white sun dress and goofy grin.

 “Please be gentle,” she said, staring at the ceiling. Tirred scoffed at Sunna and yawned in her face.

 “Just take a deep breath,” Timmid said, talking more to herself as she inhaled, “…and let it out.”

 “But…it’s a family,” Tirred grumbled. “Under what circumstances would we ever need to bless a human family for no reason?”

 “I mean, if that’s what the client wants,” Timmid began, as Tirred stood up.

 “Maybe like a heroic mom, or a family of veterans and charity workers.” He spoke through his teeth. “That’s understandable.” Then he talked normally. “But to grant miracles to an entire immoral…seemingly immoral, lower working class family bloodline?”

 “Hey!” Sunna pipped up, standing up. “You don’t know they’re immoral.” She pointed down to the boy mannequin. “This kid probably saves dogs from fire.” She pointed to the girl. “Maybe this girl feels a purpose to stand up for kids in other countries.” She pointed to the father. “And this guy…”

 Sunna closed her eyes. “The guy definitely worships.”

 “Exactly,” Timmid said. “Humanity can be full of goodness, it’s why a select few are able to come up here. But innocent and guilty aren’t our business, Tir.” She cupped her boyfriend’s cheeks. “Saving who we’re paid to is our business. Choose a victim.”

 She kissed Tirred and he knelt down again.  

 “I just think it’s a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all,” Tirred said.

 Just then, Docile entered the room, followed by angel Mrs. Mayberry.

 “Guys! I want you to meet…”

 Tirred accidentally slammed his mannequin hard with both fists and it shot up into the air, hitting the ceiling. It bounced onto the other mannequins, frightened Sunna, slammed against an altar, and the head rolled toward Mrs. Mayberry before Docile stopped it with one foot.

 “…our newest client!”

 The flaming bowl on the altar crashed to the floor as fire spread through the room. The water sprinklers overhead came on, flooding the room.

 “Darn it, Tirred, I just cleansed that altar!” Docile yelled.

 Eventually, they dried up the room and waited outside. Other elves came into help, replacing water-worn furniture and carpets. Mrs. Mayberry got into a yellow taxi cab that took off into the air on white wings.

 “Bye!” called Docile, “and don’t worry, we’ll save your friend in less than 24 hours or your first blessing is free!” He waved as Mrs. Mayberry left.

 “When did we start implementing that deal?” Tirred asked, frowning.

 “When you set a flood to my office in front of a client you glooming lunatic!” Docile yelled in anger, “Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!”

 “You mean our only ticket to the living world?” Sunna asked, pulling out a black leather-bound Bible from behind her. “Yeah, got it.”

 “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Sunny!” Docile said, baby-talking her. “You get some milk now.”

 He pulled out a glass of milk and held it in front of her. He then tilted back his head and poured the milk into his mouth in a smooth arc.

 “Stop it,” Sunna said, annoyed that he had stolen her milk and teased her. Then she got an idea and gasped. “It’s spoiled!”

 Docile’s eyes went wide and he coughed up splatters of milk onto the ground.

 “Ergh, so gross,” Docile grumbled as he wiped off milk stains from his outfit and coughed again.

 “You sound like you’re coughing up a hairball! So gross,” Sunna smirked.

 “Oh stop that, I get enough of that from my therapist.”

 Sunna giggled as she left.

 Timmid held a Bible in her hands and quietly chanted a psalm, while drawing a symbol with chalk. A glowing blue Christian Cross surrounded by a circle appeared on a wall, opening up a portal to the living world.

 Nearby, an advertisement read in misspellings: “Knead someone to save in da living worlds?! Com to ELF?! Be sure to position dis sign up rite. Payment arrives via mail snail in one weak, so bee patient. -- Speech to text, Docile.”

 Docile turned to his employees. “Now let’s go bless the mess!”

 “The expression is, ‘bless the best’, Docile,” Timmid said with a smile, as she walked through the portal.

 “Mine’s better,” Docile mentioned, following her.

 “Oh, flames under copper kettles,” Tirred swore with a sigh as he followed the two through the portal.  

 Part Two: The Elves’ Adventure

 The three elves stood in front of a shabby house by a lake and forest. Tirred and Docile leaned against the side of the house, coming up from the bushes.

 Docile looked through the window. “That’s gotta be her,” he whispered. “Tirred, you want this one?”

 “Me?” he asked, surprised.

 “Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle.”

 Tirred peered through the window. Mary was sick in her bed, cursing up a storm and gagging. Her family stood by her bedside, the older daughter taking a puff of a cigarette.

 “It’s just a sick mother who doesn’t have anything left to live for.”

 Tirred hesitated. Why would there be any reason to bless this family? The woman cursed, cheated on her husband and was probably a Satanist.

 “Snooze you lose, Tir,” Docile said. He pointed a golden angelic staff at the window. “And here we go…”

 “Wait, are we actually saving a family?!” Tirred asked, teeth bared.

 “No, don’t be foolish, we’re just curing a mother. We’re extending a family.”

 He aimed the staff at her, the golden tip on the staff starting to glow teal.

 “But…” Tirred began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

 He lifted up Docile’s staff and the beam fired. It hit a nearby cracked mirror in the house and it repaired itself. Everyone in the room gasped.

 “What was that, Ralph?” Mary asked.

 “I don’t know Mary,” Ralph replied, shaking his head. He was built like a muscular man with brown hair. “But whatever it is…”

 Grinning, he stood up and held a large net. “They’re gonna be the keys to our future!”

 Mary smiled and took a big gulp of water. “Alright kids! Nets out!”

 The boy and girl took out nets and held their silver cross necklaces.

 “Looks like we’ve got some genies to catch here, youngins!” Ralph said with a chuckle as the kids cheered.

 “What in Heaven’s name was that, Tirred?” asked a fuming Docile.

 Tirred took a deep breath and replied carelessly. “I’m sorry. They just seemed so flawed and pathetic. I reacted.”

 Docile face-palmed and poked Tirred in the chest several times. “Everyone is flawed and pathetic but who isn’t innocent in the beginning? At the start, you were just an innocent baby with no knowledge of hate or evil! Now get over yourself you grouchy blue downer!”

 The kids jumped out of the open window, reflecting sunlight.

 “A new light!” cried Docile. “Scatter!”

 Docile and Timmid ran off as Ralph carried his wife through a door after them. Tirred looked around, only for a child’s hand to playfully pull at his ears. He yelped and tried to shoo the kids away before they dragged the short elf man back into the house.

 “Where are you going, little critter?” called Ralph, as he chased after Timmid. “You can’t hide long from me.” Timmid hid under the dock, before bursting onto the surface. She shot a blue blast with her staff, but Ralph dodged it. Timmid tried to cast a sleeping spell on him with her staff, and jumped into the air.

 With a well-aimed swipe, Ralph caught Timmid in the giant strong net. Timmid struggled to get free as Ralph smiled kindly down at her.

 0 0 0

 Meanwhile, Tirred was dragged into the house and was seated in a comfortable chair. The two kids, a boy with brown hair and a girl with light brown pigtails stared at him with puppy-dog eyes.

 “Uh, well hello there little brats,” Tirred grumbled. “Aren’t you annoying?”

 “It’s nice to have a critter to grant our wishes,” they said at the same time.

 Tirred looked around and saw Christian Crosses hanging from the walls. Golden picture frames held awards that the family had won over the years. Beautiful white candles lined the room along with sculptures of cherub babies and unicorns. A bouquet of colorful flowers lay on the table in front of Tirred.

 The two children pushed a long scroll of paper toward him.

 “Oh sprites,” he scoffed.

 0 0 0

 Meanwhile, Docile was racing through the woods, Ralph chasing after him after capturing Timmid. Docile hid behind a tree in fear.

 “I know you’re confused, little angel,” Ralph called out. “I promise, I can make things good for both of us. Just come let daddy Ralph help you ascend to even greater heights! Ah…sh*it… it’s not what it may sound like, I assure you, so please let me take you back!”

 Docile’s phone rang with a loud angelic choir and he struggled a bit before finally catching it. His phone had a smiling halo emoji that read GBY (Go Bless Yourself).

 “This is a really bad time,” Docile muttered, the phone against his ear.

 At Samael’s palace in Heaven, the shirtless, well-muscled angel was sitting in a lotus position, eyes closed in a steamy dark room with hot coals underneath him.

 “When isn’t it a bad time, Docy?” he mused.

 “What is it?” Docile asked in frustration. Samael held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like skulls.

 “I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my Bible?”

 Docile’s angry face appeared in smoke. “What did you just call me?” Samael blew it away.

 “My book, Docy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?”

  “I can hear, ya, cherub!” Ralph called.

 “Sugar honey iced tea,” Docile muttered, scurrying off.

 “Anywho,” Samael continued, “You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfil my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?”

 He added, “Favors for favors?” as he slowly scrapped his claws along the floor. “Doesn’t that sound…foreboding?”

 Docile ducked behind another tree. “You’ve got to stop with that fancy rich people talk. I’m trying to concentrate on not getting my corp twisted up!”

 The net almost got his head from above him.

 “Then let me keep it simple,” Samael said. “Once a month, on the new moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…”

 He grinned evilly, stretching his legs and sinking into the lava, “Grueling repentance.” He leaned out over the hole. “And… you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little elf?”

 “Fine, whatever!” Docile replied.

 “Oh, Docy! I’m so excited! I cannot wait to put you up on a torture rack and pinch your filthy blue **** with a blade of ****…”

 Docile was soon pinned to the tree by Ralph. “Gotcha!” Docile’s phone dropped and Samael was still talking.

 Ralph grinned. “So, you’re a little angel, huh? Come to say hello without staying?”

 Mary slowly came forward from behind her husband and added, “Well not today, Jesus! Y’all will grant our desires and then we’ll send ya back to where ya came from! B-but don’t worry, we ain’t gonna kill ya, you’ll just travel back through the sky.”

 0 0 0

 Back at the house, Tirred was mindlessly scanning a list of requests that the kids had placed in front of him. The lists read misspelled things like: “Pwease save our mother!” “Give me a brand new pony.” “I want the humans of dis world to not be mindless apes and start care-ring for each other.” “All Earth-ings deserve a second chance unless you’re Hitler or Trump.” “End pe-dough-pile and insect familial shipping.” The last request was most unusual: “Give us the next Has-Been cartoon episode along with a four inch wide, five inch deep bowl of jazz-berries, strawberry sugar on top.”

 Just then, Tirred saw figures in white head to the lake.

 “Timmid,” Tirred sighed. Strengthening his resolve, he put on his fiercest face, stood up with claws out and said in a deep voice to the children…

 “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

 He didn’t even know why he said that, but it was enough to confuse the children long enough for him to dash through a window and race toward the lake.

 0 0 0

 Ralph and Mary were singing heavenly melodies in hooded white robes as Timmid and Docile were tied to their own staffs. Candles were lit and an altar with a bowl of holy water stood nearby.

 “Sugar honey iced tea, I had that shot, gosh darn it, Tirred,” Docile scoffed. Both struggled to get free.

 “Jesus!” Mary said with the last of her strength. “We compel your divine creatures to grant us our many well-thought out wishes! May the root of holiness remained honored as we continue thy work!”

 Ralph clapped his hands in excitement.

 With coughs, Mary picked up the bowl of holy water with shaking hands. She then walked over to the elves and poured the water over their heads.

 Mary and Ralph smiled expectantly for a moment.

 “Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, ma’am,” Docile said. “You see holy water doesn’t really work on us but we could pretend to be if you let us go.”

 “Huh? Oh poop.” Then she got an idea. “Then I’ll just bless you guys instead! You want to meet Jesus in person, don’t you?”

 “I’ve always wanted to meet him in person,” Docile said. “I heard he’s kind of a cool hippie.”

 “Docile!” Timmid scolded.

 Mary laughed for a few seconds until she clutched at her chest. The illness had finally gotten to her and she collapsed to the ground. Ralph screamed at the sight of his dying wife. The light faded from her eyes at last.

 “Tirred!” Timmid called out. Tirred ran over and freed his companions.

 “You’re not getting your paycheck for this one, Tir,” Docile remarked as he fell down, his staff falling and bonking him on the head. “Ow!”

 Timmid and Tirred embraced as the human family sobbed, Ralph cradling his deceased wife in his arms.

 “I’m okay,” Docile moaned. Tirred helped him up. “I’m sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm’s way. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

 “Apology accepted this time,” Docile said, hugging him. Then he muttered, “But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I’ll overwork you and your girlfriend…alright!” he added quickly standing up. “Job well done! Now let’s get off.”

 “Wait a second,” Tirred called. “I need to settle things with them.”

 “Say this to them before we leave, or you’re fired.” Docile whispered a command into his ear.

 “Now, hurry up,” Docile added, before saying into his phone, “Sunna, we’re ready to come home, dear!”

 Tirred could briefly hear Docile and Samael talking. Samael was saying something like, “You and I are on ****** angel’s eyeballs and hot gold all night.”

 Tirred stared at Ralph and his stunned kids.

 “What are you gonna do, little guy?” Ralph asked. “Mock us?”

 “I should,” Tirred said, aiming his staff at them before lowering it. “You people are…interesting. I’m very sorry about your loss. But, you deserve a word of warning. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them. Do not be swayed down the path of greed and unfaithfulness. Remember, there’s still an 85% chance that you’ll go to Hell. I hope you won’t feel so compelled to pursue any more selfish desires.”

 Then Tirred reluctantly said, as Docile ordered him to: “I hereby declare that you will be reunited with your wife in Heaven if you redeem yourselves.”

 Tirred gave them one last glare and left, meeting the other elves back at the portal in the dark woods.

 “There you are,” Docile said. “Have a good spiritual reflection session, Tirred?”

 “What?”

 “Look, I don’t care where you pray in the living world, just pray you’ll come to work on time, alright? See you at the office!” He raced through the portal.

 “Feeling better now, honey?” Timmid asked.

 “Yeah, I just needed a little time to process,” Tirred said.

 “You have a good heart, sweetie,” Timmid said. “Just a grumpy head.” She playfully pinched her boyfriend’s cheek and kissed him. A dopy expression came on Tirred’s usually grumpy face. Docile pulled him back through the portal.

 0 0 0

Back at the office, two of the elves, Sunna and Mrs. Mayberry had cake. “We tried,” was written in blue frosting on the white angel’s food cake. (Devil’s food cake was forbidden). A new angel Mary arrived and hugged Mrs. Mayberry, the two friends reunited at last.

 “Thank you for reuniting me with my best friend,” said Mrs. Mayberry.

 “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you in time,” said Docile, downcast.

 “It’s alright,” said Mary. “Death is part of life. You guys did your part in comforting my family and helping us learn our lessons. I think I’ll like it here.”

 Everyone laughed except for a fuming Tirred who sat in the middle. A banner overhead read: “Loved the dame.” Tirred was angry that they had comforted a woman who appeared quite flawed in the eyes of many in Heaven.

 Tirred wasn’t sure if he agreed to the “senseless blessings” morals of E.L.F. anymore.

 Timmid hugged Tirred around his neck and smiled. “Did you see that? He did it! Oh Tirred!”

 “Well here’s to another mission accomplished,” Docile announced. “And Tirred here finally learned to fess up.”

 “And blessing people with what they don’t want, but rather with what they need is no big deal if they are too involved with what they want for themselves,” Timmid added.

 “That’s harsh and confusing, but I paid for it!” Mayberry added as everyone except Tirred laughed again.

 “Yeah, bless that family!” Docile declared.

 0 0 0

Several weeks later, Tirred was longing around in his office, listening to some rock music. He wondered what kind of craziness he’d have to deal with today.

 Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Hey Tirred, it’s me, Docile. Got some news for ya.”

 “Come in,” he grumbled.

 The door opened and Docile peered in. Tirred walked over. “Can I help you, sir?” he asked, eye brow raised.

 “You’re not gonna believe who I just met!”

 Docile smiled with a giddy look and stepped to the side. Reaching to his legs stood two kids; a boy and a girl with white wings and halos.

 “Two new kids, so what?” Tirred asked.

 “Not just any kids,” Docile mentioned. “These two are Mary’s kids. You comforted her and blessed her family, remember?”

 “Wait, what?!” Tirred asked, louder, eyes wide.

 “By blessing her life, you also helped her family stay on the righteous path! And now they all died!”

 “Hold up, hold up, sir! Why are they dead and in Heaven, then? I thought they died of the Covid virus right away.”

 “Well…they did, actually.”

 “You and your inconsistency! Why are you so happy to have them here, then?!”

 The two winged children began chasing each other around the room.

 “Hey, do you two mind getting out of my office?! It’s not a playground,” Tirred demanded.

 “Because they lived great lives and didn’t get sent to Hell!” Docile replied. “It means we’ve succeeded in our job!”

 “Are you kidding me? They had their whole lives ahead of them!”

 “Death ain’t picky, Tirred,” Docile finished.

 The two kids flew over and hopped into Tirred’s lap. One of them pinched his cheeks and the other made funny faces at him. Mary and Ralph smiled in the background behind Docile.

 Tirred let out a grumpy groan. “Who knew Heaven would be Hell on Earth?” he muttered as one of the kids blew a raspberry at him. Docile chuckled at the heart-warming sight.

[su-majestad]

Trying new styles and references, to match something I wrote...

Max spends his money on a pick up truck. It’s used and the paint is a bit chipped, and if you ever try to picture the word retro in your mind, this is the truck that appears in your mind’s eye. It’s a metallic red color and it’s pretty when it gleams under the sun. The door handles are chromed and the back box of it is big and sturdy. The truck squeaks when you hit the brakes, and the motor rumbles loudly.

Usually Max, Helen, and you fit alright in the front part of it. You sit in the middle, sandwiched between them. One half smells good, like the roses and daisies in Helen’s perfume, and other smells like the Barbasol and Bengay scent that clings unto Max. It smells like home.

The air conditioning hits you face-on. You feel it in your forehead and it pushes against your bangs and they usually stick up whenever you get off the vehicle at the end of the day.

When you’re too tired, you lean your head against Helen’s shoulder and she wraps an arm around you as she keeps softly singing whatever plays on the radio. The world is soft as the Manchester scenery speeds away and the truck sways a bit to the right to avoid a pothole, and Max grumbles.

Wally I rarely comes by. So does Wally II. The Wallies live in different cities and are usually under Barry’s shadow the whole day. But when they do come by Manchester to spend time with you and laugh, they sit in the back of the pick up truck, in the sturdy big box. It eternally smells like oil because you forgot to pick up a can that spilled there when Max had just bought it. The Wallies don’t mind it, they both have an affinity for mechanics, and the smell of car oil is a welcome one. Whenever they help each other up the back of the truck, they take a big whiff of it and smile at the same time. You smile after seeing them smile. Your hearts beats fast when it feels such good, genuine emotion. You feel like part of the grandparent’s house where they come visit to unwind. You’re proud to be part of that.

Wally I towers at six feet and four inches. He ruffles your hair whenever you’re at arm’s length and chuckles low in his throat. Kind of like the way a dad does. You always push his hand off and try to ruffle his hair back, but it stays neat in its orangey glory, because your short arm doesn’t reach the top of his head. Wally II laughs at that and pats your head too, and crouches down to allow you to have your vengeance on him, at least. But his hair is cropped tight and your hands just pats at the fluff of black curls split apart by a cropped lightning bolt. Wally II is easier on you, Wally I says he likes the face you make when you’re angry. In the end, both Wallies are good cousins.

You always think that when they sit next to you in the back of the red truck. Wally I is all limbs, and he just lays black, limbs akimbo, red hair fluttering in the wind. He’s happy and free. Wally II likes to sit close to you and ask you how you’ve been as Max speeds away in the truck. He laughs at what you say, he’s warm and relatable, and he cracks a few corny jokes on you, complaining Barry doesn’t laugh that much at them. You and Wally II have a secret handshake you can’t quite get the hang of yet, but he still encourages you anyway to keep trying.

If Max is in good spirits, he opens the little back window of the truck and turns on the radio and sings along to the country songs. If Helen is along, she laughs. The Wallies don’t know the lyrics, (bunch of city slickers), and instead clap along to the beat and sing nonsense that just matches the words coming out of the speakers. You just look at them and laugh and feel wonder and kindness and good in the world.

Max takes you to a nice ice cream Parlor downtown and brings you all the ice cream you can enjoy in the back box as he keeps on driving. Then there’s silence as everyone licks away the frozen treats and the music plays louder. The wind is nice and warm, and there’s a smudge of chocolate that clings to the tip of your nose as you wolf down the ice cream, sprinkles and cone and fudge and all. Pine trees grow on each side of the road, and sometimes you pass a classmate on a bike or a skateboard that yells out ‘Bart!’

You smile and wave back, and so do the Wallies, because they’re very polite deep down somewhere.

The truck is the second thing you drive, close after after a friend’s car that you may or may not have driven off a cliff way back when. Wally II volunteers to teach you the gear shift mechanism and you still can’t get the hang of there being three pedals to step on when you only have two feet. When you tell this to your cousins, they laugh until they cry, big belly laughs, and by the end you’re all laughing.

You end up sitting on Wally the first’s lap. He’ll step on the pedals. Wally the second manages the gear-shift. You focus on moving the steering wheel. That way you three drive around the block and back to Helen’s house, and she bursts out laughing when she sees the three of you cooped up in the truck like that. There’s so much laughing around them. You like that.

By the end of the week, Barry runs by to get the Wallies back. That’s the worst part of the week. They leave and it’s happy. But you’re alone in your room watching them speed away in lines of red and orange and silver and white. That’s not as happy.

The few moments Barry has to spend in Manchester before leaving with the Wallies are fun, though. He always lets you race him, and one time you almost won. He asks you about school, sports, and the shows you watch. He asks you about girls, and when you stick your tongue out at him he asks you about boys. You stick your tongue out all the same and he sticks his tongue out too, and he feels more like an equal. More like a pal, like a guy to joke around with, rather than the man you look up to every day and aspire to be. (Besides Max, but don’t tell him that). You let him ruffle your hair. He has the privilege. His blonde hair is cropped too short to ruffle back.

When you wear your suit you notice the red in it matches the red of the retro truck. You ask Max if he can paint white stripes on the side of the truck and call it the Impulse-Mobile. He grunts and says something like ‘over my dead body blah blah blah’.

Sometime over fall, a new superhero emerges, his name is Blue Beetle and when you look at his picture on the internet it reminds you of passing images in the future, when you ran away with your mom and Carol. It unsettles you for a while, but you get to meet him one day. He saves a little kid from drowning in the river nearby. You both got there at the same time, but he didn’t hesitate in jumping into the water. Plus, he can fly. Pretty cool.

Blue, that’s what you call him now, turns out is a great guy. Super chill, and he loves to talk about the stuff he likes, and his little sister. One day he calls you on the phone and starts to talk super fast (like almost speedster-fast) about how he met the Green Lanterns that day. You listen to his story and his amazement, and decide Uncle Hal really is pretty cool if you describe him as a flying green powerhouse monster man. You write that down in a notebook somewhere so you remember to call him that the next time you see him.

As you scribble on the notebook, Blue keeps talking and his voice changes pitch. You focus on the call.

“El Paso got destroyed though...” he says. And keeps quiet after that. The reality of the situation claiming him over.

You hesitate, and the pencil in your hand dances. “Yeah, but you saved the people.”

“Yeah, but there’s a giant hole in mi casa,” he sighs. “And my school is destroyed, especially the gym. Oh my god. I should go and help them. I should see if the Beetle suit can fix something...”

You’ve never seen Blue without his suit. To you, he’s a mechanical Mexican teenager. Likewise, he hasn’t seen you out of your costume. But you feel empathy gnaw at you. You can help too. You can get there so fast!

“I’ll go too, let me help you too!”

“What? No, Impulse I didn’t call you to— I mean, it would be great but— have you even been here before??”

You see him talk into his phone as you sped towards El Paso, having left a note in Helen’s kitchen counter. He feels the burst of wind and looks to the side to see you. You always knew he was a kid just like you, but seeing him so broken up and panicked about having destroyed his hometown made him look all the more vulnerable, killer alien-scarab on his back aside. You watch the Beetle suit take over tiny dot by tiny dot until it encases him and you both spend the afternoon picking up rubble from the streets of El Paso.

By nighttime, Blue’s mom made food, and invites you into her house even if he was still clad in white and red spandex. Blue sits on the dinner table next to you without his armor, and Blue’s little sister is fascinated with your goggles. You let her keep them when you run back to Manchester. You have dozens of them in your room. There’s a retro truck just like the Impulse-Mobile in front of Blue’s house (only a different color) and you realize the world is, in fact, quite small.

[im-reddie]

“Their Final Goodbye...”

Deep in the meadow

When you get to the lyrics please listen to this song, if you can’t listen while reading then please listen to the full song and then come back and read over the lyrics.

Eddie was fading, his friends’ voices were muffled by their weak sobs or hands covering their mouths, his head resting on Richie’s lap.

He looks around him and sees the group of people he hasn’t seen since he was a kid.

“I forgot you” he thought. “…how could I forget?”

the others put a hand on Eddie's body in an attempt to reassure him. Beverly threw her head down on Eddie’s leg and sobbed, he really was dying. The realization hitting each one of them just as hard, they all felt a sense of longing, pain, and anger.

He looked at Ben. The poet with tears in his eyes, crying because he never really appreciated Eddie as much as he should have, and he was sorry.  “Ben…sweet, sweet Ben.” Eddie thought. The poems he read were sweeter than honey and the boy had a heart of gold he didn’t ever think he’d forget, Ben made him want love so bad it hurt. When he portrayed Beverly in the secret poems he kept hidden, he made love seem not like an emotion but a basic human right. And Eddie couldn’t get enough of it, he got high on the thought of what someone loving him looked like.

“I should have been there for him more...” Ben thought. “I should have been the friend he needed.” He loved this boy with all his heart, Eddie was always the compassionate, sweet friend that everybody wanted and needed. And he felt he had taken that for granted.

Eddie looked at the only girl in the group crouched next to him with her hand on his leg. Eddie reminisced about his fondest memories of her. He remembered that she was the first person he told about his sexuality, about how he was confused and scared. She loved him with all her heart, his laugh, his smile, his willingness to do anything for his friends, his…his love. With Eddie you were loved deeply, so deeply you drowned in his warm, beautiful affection. But whenever you drowned in Eddie’s love, you never wanted to come up for air.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I loved him...” He made Beverly feel truly loved. More loved than any other one night stand could or any man who acted like a father figure towards her. Eddie saw all of Beverly and thought she was beautiful because of her flaws. 

Standing above her was Bill.” …Big Bill” the childhood nickname being the first thing that came to his mind. His protector, his leader, his companion. The boy he would follow to the ends of the earth. The memory that stood out the most when thinking of their childhood was his crush on Bill. It seemed silly because Bill was nothing and would be nothing but a childhood friend, but the way Bill looked at him, treated him, and talked to him when they were alone sometimes..Eddie never felt like a loser when he was with Bill, not when Bill treated him with such care, made him feel like anything was possible, when you ran with Bill you never ran out of breath. And never running out of breath was great, so fucking great Eddie would tell the world.

“he didn’t do anything wrong.” Bill thought. “he never did, he didn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve such cruel punishment...not Eddie.” 

“Richie.” he thought with a smile. When he finally spoke it was an attempt at trying to sound happy.

 “I did it for you…” he turned his gaze to Richie before giving a sad smile. “All of you.” A tear rolled down Richie’s eye, the moment being so real it brought out the emotions he never showed anyone. 

“I loved him...now he’s gone.” he thought. “you’ll never get to tell him how he made you feel.” He remembers trying multiple times, each time he thought “beep beep” before shutting his mouth or changing the subject.

Richie shook his head violently, trying to scramble the thoughts that flood his mind away. “No, c’mon Ed’s you’re gonna be fine…” he brought Eddie closer to him in an attempt to rid the space between the two. “you can’t leave me,” his voice sounding hurt, broken almost. “not now…” Eddie gave a sad smile to the man before him finally showing the care he wanted all those years ago.

“It’s ok Rich…” he assured. “I’ll wait for you...I’ll always be waiting for you.” Richie’s eyes downcast to Eddie’s wound, blood seeping.  The boy he once knew began to shiver while his eyes gave a hopeful beam towards Richie. 

“Promise?” he asked with a sad playful tone in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Eddie nods his head, “Promise.” 

Even facing death itself, Eddie refused to be anything but optimistic. Richie thought that was another reason he often looked up to Eddie when he was younger, even when nothing around them was okay Eddie managed to see the positivity in almost any situation.

 “God I love him...” Richie thought, Eddie had always held a certain affection towards Richie and the same with Richie towards Eddie

 “I-I’m cold...Richie...” the echo of vulnerability and the longing to be cared for in Eddie’s words practically crushed Richie’s heart into a fine powder. Eddie’s shaky breaths broke him down. Richie wanted nothing more than to ease Eddie’s pain somehow, to make him happy just like he made Richie happy all those years ago. He held him in his arms and they looked into each other's eyes, Richie knew then just how much Eddie meant to him. All the forgotten years of stealing secret glances from one another, feelings going unsaid out of fear, the smiles, and thoughts not given to each other when needed. 

“I’m here Ed’s don’t worry...” Richie reassured, stroking Eddie's cheek with his thumb while the boy looked up at him. Eddie gave a broken smile, the pain, and regret showing through each crack. “I’m here...” he whispered.

Eddie started looking around and moving his head frantically, he squirmed in Richie’s hold and managed to feel the reassuring squeeze on his face and chest. 

“I-I can’t s-see! Richie where are you! Where are you guys!” he cried. Eddie’s loss of blood caused him to lose eyesight. Eddie was afraid, he thought his friends had left him alone again after all these years. He saw practically nothing but blurs before the only thing that his brain could process was black with tiny white specs. he felt his friends grip tight, each thought that went through their head being apologetic.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make you feel the way you made me feel.”

and then, what would have been Eddie’s favorite.

“I’m sorry I was so ashamed to love you.”

Tears drained from his eyes, staining his rosy cheeks. he reached his hand up and Richie hurried to guide his dying friend's hand to his cheek. Eddie calmed and looked above him with no specific fixation. his face was dull, the life draining from his body by the second. 

“Right here, I’m right here, we all are.” Eddie gave a shaky nod while letting the corner of his mouth gently raise. 

“Richie...will you sing to me. Please.” Eddie asked. He knew he never had to ask Richie for anything because he would do anything and everything for this boy if it meant keeping him happy.

Richie nodded yes, forgetting that Eddie couldn’t see him. After not seeing a reaction from Eddie he leaned his head down close to Eddies and gave a small and gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“You still give me butterflies...” he thought unable to make an expression.

Richie knew just the song to sing for the person he held closest to his heart. A long time ago when they were just entering high school, Eddie wrote a “Lullaby” and it was the sweetest, most innocent thing that Eddie has ever done in his eyes. It resembled his soul and that’s why Richie liked it so much. Eddie never told anyone but Richie about that song, Richie never sung it to anyone but Eddie.

Richie gently stroked Eddie's hair while staring into his absent eyes, singing a broken tune that would always be the sad song that he sang to Eddie. This would be the last time he heard his voice.

 “the song I sang to Eddie as he was dying in my arms.” Richie said. Eddie lost his vision but Richie’s voice helped guide Eddie’s eyes towards him,  he managed to gain enough strength to raise the corners of his lips.

it was their love song, their “Fuck You!” to the world. 

Their last goodbye...

Deep in the meadow

You don’t deserve this.

Under the willow

you’re too kind to die like this.

A bed of grass

you deserved a happy full life with kids and a...husband.

A soft green pillow

I wanted to be your husband...

Lay down your head

We would have had the time of our lives Ed’s

And close your eyes

I want a better life for you, Eddie.

And when they open

A life where you could be yourself and people gave you all the love you deserved.

The sun will rise

You deserve the world

Here it’s safe

I wanted to be the one to give it to you.

Here it’s warm

I wanted to keep you safe,

Here the daisies guard

I wanted to be able to show you that you were worthy enough to be loved.

You from every harm

You don’t deserve pain...

Here your dreams are sweet

You were too good for this world...

And tomorrow brings them true

too good for me

Here is the place

I hope wherever you go, we find each other

Where

maybe then I won't be such a coward to tell you all this

“I love you.” Richie blurted in a non-melodic tone, being sure to state his seriousness.

Eddie was close to slipping away

“You know...I-...” he said softly, fading out of consciousness. his arm went limp but Richie held the boys cooling hand on his face, longing for more time, for more words to say, for more love to be shared between the two.

the life drained from his starry eyes and his cheeks were flushed. Richie pulled him into his chest and held him closer, sobs starting to flood out of his body, tears raining down on Eddie’s cheeks, cries escaping violently from his throat with venom embedded in every syllable, directed towards the thing that did this. 

“HE DIDN’T DESERVE THIS!” he pushed the sentence out with a strong passion but the hurt in his heart filtered the plea as a broken sob.

He buried his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “You didn’t deserve this!” he cried. 

Beverly stood up, a hand covering her mouth before turning to be who embraced her for a hug. Both of them crying with each other, while Bill was left to cry by himself. Rage filled his body, this thing that had been terrorizing him and his friends their whole life had just killed the only angel bill knew existed. 

After the final battle with IT, the four left, carrying Eddie's body out of the sewer.

“He can’t be left dirty and surrounded by filth...” Richie told the group. “He wouldn’t want that. He needs to be buried, he needs to have a proper funeral and we...all...need to be there.” He stated. If nobody was gonna help him, he was going to carry Eddie out himself. The others agreed and thought of a cover-up story. 

“We found him in the forest...” Ben said. “He had just been attacked by a bear.”

Beverly grimaced at the thought. She felt bad, only they would know the truth about what really happened.

Richie let a tear fall at the thought of seeing Eddie at his funeral. 

“I can’t even cry for him...” he said, “I loved him and I can’t even cry for him!” Nobody knew how much they loved and cared for each other, he would have to cry as Eddie’s friend and not as the man he was in love with.

The others all embraced Richie, they didn’t know about their secret love until Eddie’s death. Beverly had known about Eddie’s preference in partners but she never knew about Richie.

“You can Rich.” Bill assured, “We’ll know...your tears will have a different meaning to us, don’t worry.” Bill’s voice calmed Richie. He knew how he felt, he knew how hard it was dealing with the loss of a secret love.

 Bill was empathetic, he longed for another conversation with him, another kiss, another “I love you” even if it was a lie. 

                                  Eddie’s funeral fell on a Thursday, “Eddie’s favorite day of the week.” Richie thought.

He remembered back in high school, Eddie had told Richie that his favorite day wasn’t Friday, Saturday or Sunday. It was Thursday.

“it’s not close to the beginning of the week and it’s close enough to the weekend to give you that excited feeling of ‘I can’t wait!’” Richie smiled in his seat. He sat alone, an empty chair next to him, hopefully, occupied by his angel. 

He wasn’t listening to any other eulogies except Bill’s, he was the only friend chosen to go up and speak.

“As you know, Eddie was...too kind.” He stated blatantly.

“He always made sure everyone around him was happy even if he wasn’t, he loved...not only widely but deeply as well. Making sure each and every one of us had our fair share of attention.” He said with a smile and a reminiscent undertone.

“I only wish we could have done the same for him. I know most of us...didn’t get a proper goodbye, maybe even didn’t say the right last words to him. But, he loved you.” Bill eyed Richie, being sure to single him out before continuing.

“All of you. He was one of the best friends I could have asked for. He was pure of heart, pure of mind, and pure of soul.” he paused looking down with a pain filled expression. “He deserved better,” he singled out Richie again, using his words to make sure he knew that this speech wasn’t for anyone else but him. Nobody knew Eddie like Richie did.

“Eddie liked to live by quotes, most quotes being from very depressing movies that he loved” Getting a small laugh from the crowd, Bill continued.

 “Eddie didn’t want a million admirers, he just wanted one. I know you try to will yourself to think of a world without him...” he blinked at Richie while tearing up. “And what a worthless world that would be.” Richie smiled at the thought, knowing just how true it was...is.

“You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world...but you do get to choose who hurts you.” He looked at his friends and then Eddie’s family, letting a tear fall on his paper before looking back at Richie with a sad smile.

“I think he was pretty happy with his choices, don’t you?” sobs were escaping through his closed lips and Richie leaned his elbows on his knees and his face into his hands. He couldn’t take knowing that Eddie was gone before him. He couldn’t take that he was most likely somewhere alone, and scared. He couldn’t take that Richie couldn’t love Eddie like he wanted to like he needed to.

After the funeral mike greeted him with a hug.

“I know how much he meant to you, Richie...” Mike said into his shoulder. Richie didn’t say a word to his friends the rest of the afternoon.

It wasn’t until everyone had left that he visited the hazel casket one last time. He put a hand on the glazed wood and his lip began to quiver.

“I don’t wanna live in a world without you Ed’s.”

Richie stayed with Mike for another month, visiting Eddie’s grave every day with a pretty little flower he found that reminded him of Eddie, along with a sheet of paper that read “My letter to heaven”. He was in no rush to leave back to California, nothing but an empty, hallow house was waiting for him there.

When he finally did get back, he was greeted with an inbox full of voicemails on his home phone, most of them from his boss, agent, and certain relatives calling to check up on him. He wanted to delete them all as soon as he listened to the 5th one, but something told him he should listen.

when the voice said, “Last new message” he was relieved. 

“Hey, Richie...It’s Eddie.” Richie's eyes widened, he ran to the machine as fast as possible wanting to pick up the phone to hear Eddie’s voice and have one last conversation with him. But it was only a voicemail, one more painful goodbye.

“So I don’t know if you got a call from Mike already, about...IT. But I’m assuming since you didn’t answer, you left already. I just wanted to call because...well I had this dream last night and woke up with this gut feeling that something bad was gonna happen. I’ve been wanting to say it for a while but just in case something happens and I don’t say it there, I love you, Richie.” Richie’s eyes welled up with tears of loss and joy.

“I’ve loved you since 7th. You’ve meant the world to me since and still do. I still remembered that song I wrote for when I get nervous...but I never remembered why it had a loving feeling to it until Mike called me. I hope you’re doing well, I just...had this feeling that I should tell you as soon as possible. You know I'm kind of glad you didn’t pick up, I probably wouldn’t have told you if you did. Anyways, I hope you have a safe flight, I’ll see you when you get there.”

Richie listened to his voice absolutely mesmerized. having not hearing Eddie’s voice in a month, he wanted to keep his voice tattooed on his mind. He grabbed a tape recorder and played the message over and over again, as many times as it would let him before the tape was full of Eddie saying “I love you, Richie”.

What a funny thought. “I’m freaking out over my little Eddie Spaghetti.” He thought. 

After rewinding the tape for the last time, he listened to how genuine and kind Eddie's voice sounded. The tone he held that always made Richie melt.

“I love you, Richie.” *click, rewind, click* “I love you, Richie.” *click, rewind, click* “I love you, Richie.” *click*

Richie paused and bathed in the sweet bliss that Eddie’s voice brought him.

*Rewind, click* “I love you, Richie.” *click*

“I love you too, Ed’s,”

This one-shot is dedicated to my new best friend and favorite author, the person that inspires me the most. @elesbianna @sten-bros

I really hope I made you proud. 

there is a little reference to @sten-bros Another story to tell fic and it’s only small because I didn’t want to act like I wrote the story so I knew what bill was going through other than the obvious but it really is an amazing story that needs to be read over and over by everyone who loves stenbrough fanfiction because oof this one will get ya.

Another story to tell by @sten-bros

Taglist: @edgyeddiespaghetti @stenbroughbros @renyanoel @istanstantheman @musicalfangirla113 @richiesrocket @1justnikkine1 @pennyfuckerr @reddietoroll

[theuniversebeyondtherain]

Flower crown, fairy lights, daisies, 1975, pantone, moodboard, stars, plants, converse, lace, sunrise, overalls, combat boots, winged eyeliner, pastel, tattoos, piercings, messy bun, cry baby, grunge, old books, beaches, 11:11, painting, thunder, storms, love, clouds, coffee, marble (sorry I just can't restrain myself ahahaha)

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

This morning while I was packing my things? I seriously can’t restrain myself, even when my voice was completely broken I sang a bit :3

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Too many things... Maybe I’d want to know it make it through my studies or if I can achieve my dreams to become a writer and to open my own bookshop ? Or maybe i’ll just ask it if my beloved cat if happy where he is now, or if I could have done something more to help before he died...

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Hum..... Being alive I guess? Though I ca’t really say I’m in good health but at least I’m here, happy and alive with my friends and my family?

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

Two days ago, I went shopping with my mom. It had been a very long time since I went with her. It made me very happy to do that with her. (since I live in a different city I usually go with my friends, @le-rire-des-etoiles I’ll always remember when you shut the curtain closed while saing “HIDE” xD It was so true !!!

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

Wow I’ve got like 4 ppl that came up to my mind rn... Which one should I chose :3 I’ll start with the first one that appeared to me. She has long brown hairs (she’ll never do anything to them I tried to convince her to die them in green for a night with a perfectly nice hair coloring which didn’t last more that one shampoo but I’m still trying xD). She has some rectangular glasses because she doesn’t see very well with her brown eyes. She’s kinda small (smaller than me and I consider myself as a Hobbit xD), but as we say, everything small is cute! She’s very energic, she works in a school with some small children. She’s passionate about everything she does, which goes from friends, to work, parties and family. She’s a veeeery bad loser when we play (she can throw the cards at your face when we play Uno xD very funny actually) and we don’t always agree but it’s always nice because we can talk about almost everything without going into a big fight. But still, when she has an opinion, it’s almost impossible to make her changer her mind or even accept you have a different opinion, but it’s almost always on un-important subjects so it’s not a big deal. She’s very friendly and a very good cook too, even if shes kinda desperate that I can’t really make decisions, and I really love her.

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

Yep, it was hard sometimes, but when I consider my friends childhoods, I definitly have a happy one.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

Last night? We were watching a singing contest at the TV and we tarted crying like babies in front of one man... Still, amazing moment.

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

@snarky-goldfish, @le-rire-des-etoiles and another friend who’s not on tumblr (Xao) because I can’t do that without all of them. They’re the best bunch of friends I’ve ever had and stargazing without all three of them wouldn’t be as fun as it would be with the three of them. @snarky-goldfish would go for the sarcastic or the sexual inuendues, @le-rire-des-etoiles would roll her eyes but go for it with a bunch of fun facts about it, and Xao and I would just listen and laugh while thinking about very sexual things that don’t belong there because we have a dirty mind xD

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

I had once, and we became friends xD But that’s not a thing I normally do, I guess it just depend of the feeling I have with this person?

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

It was like two weeks ago I think ? I was sick AF and so was my best friends so we start chitchatting instead of sleeping because we’re fucked up like that xD

sunrise:pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“Life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself.” Troye Sivan.

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

Go in vacation and fuck this world I guess? XD

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

I am, I don’t know how to keep a grudge against someone for a long time. But I learned to be less forgiving or at least, even if I can forgive I never forget. But being always angry about someone is exhausting and I have better things to do.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

Hum.... Let’s pass this one darling because I’ve already wrote a novel with the answers and I still have like the half to go xD But I can do that in another post :P

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

OMG definitely punk xD I love pastels too, but I’m more like punk and colors everywhere (even if they don’t belong together).

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

I love tatoos, I’d love to get one but I’m afraid of needles xD And I’m not against piercings even if I won’t have it, It’s leaves marks and I have already enough of them.

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

Not a lot of but I do wear make up. I like to cover my scars, I’m quite insecure about them.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

But in times of crisis, the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers.

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

OMG that’s gonna be a long one... Let’s begin : Sting (in which he reformed The Police, it was fucking amazing), Tokio Hotel, twice (I loved them and it was some very good concerts), Katy PErry (She was very nice actually), Silbermond (in some ancients roman ruins, I loved it), Tiger Lilies (freak show, scary but amazing), Queen, the Musical (not FReddy Mercury but still great), Within Temptation, twice too (first one was beautiful, the second much less because they wanted us to be seated like WTF), Tarja Turunen (I’m still crying because it was beautiful, and the drummer was amazing), Nightwish, three times (I WANNA GO AGAIN !!!!), Nickelback (I was in the first raw thanks to a friend, it was amazing!!!). Imagine Dragons (Loved it even if I drank a bit too much vodka), Robin des Bois (Loved it and cried a bit), The Script (Still there, once of the most beautiful ones), and I’m going to see Fall Out Boy next week :D

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I really don’t know...

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

I saw a porno for the first time when I was 10 and it actually really trauamtized me.

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

Purple/pink because I already tried all the natural colors and I like the purple best :P

11:11:name three wishes and why you wish for them.

Well, it’s said that if we talk about our whishes they don’t come true... So i’ll better stay quiet ;)

painting:what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

Hum..... Two years ago, a friend of mine tried to put make up on me so I would look like the black swann in the Black Swan movie... I ended up as the Joker and it was faaaaar more fun !

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Kill or abuse someone.

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

Never give up on your dreams from Two Steps From Hell because it’s freaking inspiring and also it doesn’t have lyrics so I won’t grow tired of the voice or anything... But for the one person I’ll end up with the rest of my life... I can’t choose. Normally I would have said my cat but since he’s not here anymore.... I really don’t know ^^

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

Yes I have. It’s like having a bunch of butterflies in the stomach... I didn’t really understood what was happening to me and the next thing I knew was that I was always smiling and feeling happy. I blushed a lot too but it’s kinda normal for me xD I don’t reallly know what it felt when I realised it, I was just really happy and I wanted to share my happiness too. It wa like seeing the sun everyday even if it was raining. It was the first time I was in love so yeah... it sounds a bit childish ^^

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

Fuck yeah I’m a girl and I’ve gone with realy short hair in which I put some hair gel for years ! Even if I’m strating to let them grow now (the last one was too short, they were like 5mms long at the back... too short), I’ll always like short hair :D

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

Well given that I don’t like coffee, I’ll say they’re iced green tea... But It’s trust @snarky-goldfish and @le-rire-des-etoiles to order me something because they know me by heart and they’ll go for something I wouldn’t have even try (and mostly liked) without them.

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

Writing. I’m fed up with my studies and I really need a way to clear my mind and not t explode. So writing it is ! Because I’ll always like it more than sports xD

So here you go Sweetheart @roxas-j-frost ! There was a hell lot of questions but I’ve managed to answer them all !! Yeepee !!! I really had fun with that and I hope you’ll like my answers !!!

[dreams-taking-flight]

Smile

This is an Original Story I wrote for my Senior Capstone about 2 years ago. This story was inspired by a single line from a song by Lucy Hale titled "Love Tonight". The line is "I kinda like the way you smile." The style of this piece is also inspired by Ernest Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants." Enjoy. :) Creative and positive criticisms encouraged.

Smile

The café was busy, but only because of the rain. She sat with one leg tucked neatly under the other, a queenly stance offset by the bright red rain boots on her feet. His eyes though, were fixated on her, blue crystal with the sincerest orbs anyone could ask for. She swished around the tea in her cup and he smiled.

“Your smile. I think highly of it.” She said.

“You think highly of my smile?” his cheeks lifted, perfect.

“I do.” She answered. “I think it suits you.”

“I would hope so, it is mine.” He said.

“I don’t like this rain. I do not think highly of it.” She frowned.

“My dear, the rain has a smile of its own. Do you not know?” he questioned.

“The rain does not smile.” She stomped her foot on the concrete. The thunder rolled past them. “It simply is water falling from the sky. Precipitation that waters the earth. It does not smile.”

“Does it not?” he stuck one hand out of the cracked window from his seat and grinned.

“It does not and it cannot.” She folded her thin arms in defiance. “It is not alive. It is not a human being. Therefore, is does not smile. I do not like this rain.

“What do you like then?”

“I like this tea.”

“If you like this tea,” He picked up the cup, pinky raised and eyes gesturing toward the liquid within. “then you must like the rain.”

“I do not like the rain.” She protested.

“Then you must not like the Daisy in your hair.” He chided. “Or the leaves brewed of this tea.”

“They are not the rain.” She touched the white daisy in her blond locks, green eyes staring straight at him.

“My dear they are not.” He said. “But if you do not like this rain, you do not like what lies before you.”

“I take it back then. I do not like your smile. I do not think highly of it.” She barked.

“I am sad to hear that.” He mused. She could hear his heel clicking on the cement, feel his crystal eyes watching her.

    They sat in silence for a few minutes. She, sipping at the warm tea before her. Crème Vanilla. Honey settled in the bottom, mixed with biscuit crumbs. He watched her, and watched the rain, watching the drops smile back at him.

    “So what if the rain really does have a smile of its own.” She said. “How do you see it?”

    “How does one see a smile?”

    “It is as plain on your face as it is mine.” Her eyes rolled dramatically. “I don’t understand this.”

    “It is a simple question.” He laughed. “How do you see my smile?”

    “How do you see mine?”

    He stopped, sitting up straight in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. The silence was deafening, and her pride was beginning to shine, just like the slowly appearing sun in the distance. After a moment, he sat back in his chair, hands resting on the metal chair in content.

    “Your smile is seen in the wind. As the breeze flows past my skin, your smile is with it.” He said. “I see your smile in that puddle there.” He pointed to a small puddle off of the curb. “A perfect puddle to jump in those red boots of yours. I see your smile plain as day in my heart, each morning I wake up.”

    “That does not show me how the rain smiles.” She scoffed.

    The sun was finally spearing over them. The small café was bustling, but not one soul had disrupted their conversation. Patrons came and went, each with smiles on their own faces.

    “Look at the sky.”

    The girl did so, green eyes slinking back from the sunlight that had taken over the vast thunderstorm. It hadn’t lasted long. In the clearing sky, among the grey clouds, was a rainbow. The sky looked new, looked bright, looked happy. Smiling.

    “A rainbow is not a smile.” She shook her head.

    “But my dear, a smile can be plain as day on your face, and a thousand other things.” He said. “The Rainbow is the rain’s way of smiling.”

    “If you liked my smile, then you liked this rain and the rainbow. We are one in the same.”

    “You’re smile. I do thinking highly of it.” She stopped, looking at him with a growing smile of her own.

    “I do not think highly of yours.” He responded. “In fact, I don’t even like it.”

    She frowned, taking a quick drink of her tea.

    “I must say, I love your smile.”

    “Then I love the rain.”

©dreams-taking-flight

[darrycurtises]

hey fam, do all of the aesthetic asks

thanks sun goddess ily

Flower Crown: when did you last sing to yourself

yesterday bc i always sing in the car, i think it was me putting “starman” “here comes the sun” and “ticket to the moon” on repeat the whole way home

Fairy Lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

i’d like to know what the world will be like in like a century bc i worry about the world i hope she’ll be ok

Daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life

well i’m a seventeen yr old and not even one of the cool ones that compete in the olympics so its either like UH starting college @ 16 or being published in an official writing anthology

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to your mind, recent or otherwise?

last year when i went to busch gardens w my sister n my mom and i got to hold a penguin named Turkey ON MY LAP i have pictures to document this (i was chubbier back then tho no judgment)

Matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you’re now living?

yeah i wouldn’t be fucking living in florida and going to school id be using whatever money i could to travel overseas, and then i’d go on a big crosscountry roadtrip 

Black Nail Polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

not an official one, just vague “i’d like to do x someday” things

Moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

yes absolutely

Stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

last week i went to a funeral and i cried so much they got a picture w me sobbing in the background

Plants: pick a person to stargaze with you, and explain why you picked them

my best friend tomas probably because he’s the only person who wouldnt make fun of me for stargazing

Converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

BITVH NO LMAO I DONT EVEN TALK TO MY FRIENDS !!

Lace: when was your last three am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

again, tomas, my best friend. about 4 days ago?

Handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one more person, what would you say and to whom?

oh man i dont even know

Cactus: opinion on brown eyes?

i have them and i love them. got my brown eyed angels all over the place. i know like three people w not-brown eyes 

Sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally

Oil Paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

[Redacted]

Overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

id get new cars for my sister and mom bc theirs are v old like ten minutes to start and cough like a smoker old, and id pay my mom’s house off, pay off my sister’s student loans, deposit a lot to my grandma who’s living in an expensive nursing home, donate 2 houston, put away more for my college, lots of stuff

Combat Boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

Yes and yes

Winged Eyeliner: write a hundred letter word to your twelve year old self

I don’t need 100 words I just need to tell her to shut up, stop eating so much, try being friends w the girls you don’t like, they were actually nice, you’re not as funny as you think you are save your words for later and think before you speak. Also, thanks for attaching our self worth to our school performance, this isn’t sarcastic, its turning out really well for scholarships

Pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Leaning more towards pastel, but honestly the most accurate thing would be primary colors/

Tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

I like them but not on me

Piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

I usually do a quick face for school, but if im in the mood then I like to do the most just because im a teenager and im living in a time of really weird fashion and this is the only time in my life where I’ll be ballsy enough and free enough to buy and wear green eyeshadow. You think that’ll fly when im 30 w a 9-5 job? I think not. Lemme get it outta my system now, while I have ~~~being a teenager~~~ to blame it on

Bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

This is gonna sound really depressing but I don’t believe in love bc of the avett brothers song “January wedding. He was so in love with her when he wrote it and for years I was like “this is love theyre so in love” and then bam we get the true sadness album and January wedding gets followed by “divorce separation blues.” Who can be that in love with someone and then just. Stop. I don’t get it, love isn’t real.

Messy Bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

This is too much pressure

Cry Baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

Ive seen the avett brothers 3 times and they were amazing every single time, just wowowow I got the “fuck it,  im standing up and singing” mood. Ive also seen boston and foreigner, which were also fun, but mostly bc of the 50 yr old stoners in the crowds.

Grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

My papa, and I’d like it to say [classified] and maybe I’d like him to say [redacted].

Space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I have a permanent set up at the kitchen table from august thru may, and its perpetually in disarry.

White Bed Sheets: what is your night time routine?

Face mask, hair care, moisturizer, vanilla tea, set up the coffee maker for the next morning, pack my book bag, pray, bed.

Old Books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

I’d like my mom not to know that she’s kind of annoying to watch movies w (it’d break her heart shes so sensitive aw) and id like my dad not to know where I live

Beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I have dyed my hair I went red for a bit but now its brown. Id never do anything that require I bleach it bc I love myself and wont do that to my head

Eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Id take my mom, sister, my friends [classified], [classified], and [classified] to new york w me so we can do horrible cheesy touristy stuff, and then I’d have them go w me on a cross country roadtrip

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

If I tell u my wish it wont come true

Painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

Its gonna be this year’s ive already perfected the make up im gonna be a mime and its amazing

Lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

Literally nothing ive never gotten high bc it seems uhhh not fun, but ive gotten a lil drunk before (I don’t like to drink bc it makes my head hurt and it’s a lot of calories) but I get sad id be a sad drunk so I just cried.

Thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Anything thatd harm a person/animal. Never kill, never maim. If u handed me a gun and said “shoot a deer ill give you a million dollars” I couldn’t do it. If I had to break someones arm for a million dollars I couldn’t do it.

Storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

Song, bc I love people, ill just listen to a podcast while I run I guess

Love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realize you’re in love.

Not really, only a little bit of an “I’d like to love them” sort of thing

Clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

Im a girl and id never rock short hair bc I don’t have the jaw for it, and I like my long hair to make my jaw look sharper

Coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I just get iced black tea bc starbucks coffee is ass, and id trust my mom. Not my sister or my friends bc theyd get me sugar in my tea instead of unsweet w honey

Marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

The things my life has revolved around for years lmao my loved ones and school