My first draft is not garbage. My first draft is more like a murky river, and I’m a grizzly old prospector wading in and panning for gold. Yeah, there’s a lot of mud and dirt and rocks, but if I take my time, there’s also some valuable gems and nuggets hidden in there that make it all worth it.
cannot stop thinking about “if soulmates do exist they’re not found. they’re made” and how much more wonderful a concept it is. you were not made to fit with someone else, you were made be yourself and it’s up to you to choose who fits with you and how they fit. you get to wake up every day and choose to have the people you love the most belong with you and that makes it so much more meaningful than some random act of fate forcing you together
howdy yall im restarting my blog. so i won’t have any posts except like,, certain important ones. but i really feel this will be a good thing. also! most of my wips will be reintroduced/retired till i feel like dusting them off!
@flashfictionfridayofficial listen,,, sometimes a prompt doesn’t get you. other times? you take that prompt and zoom off with it with ur two fave characters as fast as possible.
Gisbert always knew this day would come. He knew there would be a day when he could no longer follow Mikaia everywhere. When he couldn’t keep up physically or mentally with all the hair-brained schemes the kids threw at them. It wasn’t even that he was old. He knew, as an elf, he aged slower, but still. But still.
He knew it was coming soon, and he needed to warn Mikaia, but it happened so fast. One second, he was walking up the stairs to their house, Mikaia in front of him, walking up the stairs backwards as he talked to Gisbert, and the next, Gisbert was at the bottom of the stairs, Mikaia yelling over him as he held Gisbert.
He hated that this is how it would happen. No warning, nothing, his body just suddenly giving out. He wondered if Mikaia knew it was coming, or even if he knew how elves died. He knew Mikaia had never seen an elf die from old age, and frankly, neither had Gisbert.
He could feel his body start to become more distant, as Mikaia continued to yell above him.
Suddenly, he heard it, through the fog of pain. “Don’t take my heart away, please world you’ve taken so much, don’t take him too.”
Gisbert felt himself slam back into the ground, and Mikaia was yelling again, louder, more angry. He couldn’t open his eyes, his mouth, and everything was in pain. Pain?
“Gisbert Aeson Sullivan, if you die on me right now, I’ll never forgive you!” he heard.
He let out a small, “buh,” before he opened his eyes, the bright, hot sun gone, replaced with the dark, cool roof of their house. He could hear faint crying, and when he tried to look, the crying instantly disappeared.
“Papa? Papa are you okay?” He carefully moved his head, and looked at Mikako. “Dad, papa’s awake!” she yelled as she turned to look over her shoulder. They could hear thundering footsteps coming up the stairs, and Mikako gave Gisbert a small kiss on his forehead, before she stood, and left the room, replaced immediately by Mikaia.
Mikaia moved to his side, and sat in the chair next to the bed. Gisbert went to talk, but coughed. Mikaia sat him up, and helped him take a sip of water. Then, he put the cup down, and held Gisbert’s hand, and started talking. “Gisbert, I hope you know, I didn’t even know elves could die. I didn’t know the signs of an elf dying. I do know, however, what it feels like when someone dies next to me. You’re not allowed to die, not next to me, not while I’m alive, and certainly not when we’re about to visit our grandchildren.”
Gisbert nodded, and looked at Mikaia. “I’m sorry, I was going to tell you.”
Mikaia’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll have a long conversation about that later. Now? Rest, recover your strength.”
“I love you,” he told Mikaia. Mikaia nodded, and smiled at him.
why are hillbilly characters always Gruff Overprotective Dad with Three Hot Daughters and never Gruff Overprotective Mom with Three Hot Sons or at the very least Hot Hillbilly Single Dad with Three Overprotective Gruff Daughters
I don’t remember the last time I was allowed to do this. The last time I was ever allowed to run free in the woods. It never happened with Alexis, that’s for damn sure. I clench and unclench my shoulders as the full moon begins to rise, feeling the familiar burn start to set into my skin. It doesn’t matter today though, I can run free today. The kids are with Gisbert, so I don’t need to worry about one of them getting hurt, or one of them trying to play with me while I’m like this. This shift is going to be an easy one, I can feel it in the way my nails are sharpening, my hair starting to stand up.
Then, the moon is where I can finally see it. Ah, there she is. She’s beautiful, as always, and I feel the familiar calm settle over me, the burn beginning to grow stronger. It’s okay though, I can’t hurt anyone out here. No one is allowed in the woods right now, Gisbert is protecting me, and my children. It’s okay, I repeat to myself, a mantra in my head as my nails and hair grow longer, my body beginning to shift. I fall to my knees, catching myself on my hands that are becoming paws at the last second. A good thing is that Gisbert is watching over me. I don’t have to think past what happens after this shift, because I know what’ll happen. Gisbert will find me and will take care of me, like he always does.
My more “human” mind becomes less strong as my wolf’s mind takes over. It’s so relaxing, to be in this form. I stretch as my body begins to finally stop, and I can stop worrying so much. It’s simple, this way. I just do what I always do while in this form. I’m running free, running wild.
RJ is very bad with his own blood. Ask his father, he can confirm it. However, he has a very specific reason to be bad with blood. Y’see, being raised to freak out at the sight of your own blood means that for him, getting injured can sign a death sentence for other people. So, yeah, he can very easily say he’s bad with blood.
However, he didn’t realize that he would get fucked by it in the middle of class. When the teacher asked if anyone would like to prick their finger for the class to test blood type, and volunteered him without asking, he kinda flipped. He was out of that class in seconds. It isn’t until he’s up the stairs back to his room that he realizes: Hey, maybe that was an overreaction? Now, normally, he wouldn’t care what others think, but Alexander was in class. Alexander was in class and saw him flip shit and is probably looking for him right now to figure out what’s wrong because that’s what he does.
He pauses up the last flight of stairs. Is it… Is it such a bad thing if he tells Alexander why he can’t see his blood? He could claim it’s just a fear of the sight of blood. He could-
He feels it, suddenly. A small stabbing sensation in the side of his leg. It’s not- it can’t be… He carefully touches the side of his leg, trying not to look at it, but just to see if he’s actually… And he feels it, the blood. And he feels the other, the whispering fire. The fire starting to build in his blood, in his body, in his mind.
He hears someone yell at him from a distance and he looks down the stairs. Mistake. He sees his blood, and snaps.
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