#random shorts

[unagi-is-not-eel]

Haku: Alright let's back to the real world~

Haku playing out the flutes before the surroundings feels like under water before everything turns dark.

Nel: *puzzled unable to see anything before decided to close their eyes.*

???: Do not forget

Nel: !?

Both of them returned to the train in the daylight.

Haku: *crouch down to looking their legs, looking apologetic* Sorry about what happened, it must be sting isn't it?

Nel: N-no, it's fine...

((I've been through something more worse))

Haku: By the way I will fixed it, but first... *lit on the magic matches*

Haku: Do you know what it is...?

Nel: that's-

Haku: *Blow the match to their face*

Nel: *squint slightly*...matches....

Haku: huh? Wait! Let me tried once again! *lit on another matches.*

Haku: alright focused here!

Nel: *staring at him with their eye twitched slightly when another matches blowed into their face.* . . . .

Nel: 💢Do you want me to marked your face like that red head?

Haku: nonono! Please one more! *Blow up another matches to their face.*

Nel: Bitch... Either you want to burned me alive or I throw you to the ocean...!💢 *lowly triggered*

Haku: *both panicking and scared* Why is not working!?

Later on

Darwicks academy courtyards

Nel and Haku walking side by side quietly.

Haku: *actually feel awkward and wary of their angers.* . . . .

Nel: why there's a lampost sitting on the bench...?

Haku: *answering without hesitation* Well... Isn't it tiresome to standing all day long?

Nel: *Stop walking and staring at him with unreadable expression.* . . . . .

Haku: I-i'm just joking okay! *wary if they might snapped at him again*

Nel: ((Damn... That's one is funny actually...))

[vyllain]

Sebastian needs a mini Sebastian.

(BONUS SKETCH!!!!!!)

THE HAND!! I hated drawing hands so much even it's position. 

[unsimspirational]

[messylxve]

The Retelling of Icarus

Note: I wrote this a while ago, so it has no relation to Eternals

The mortal truly felt like a god; flying high above in a place that was not his own. The artificial wings, created from wax and feathers, burned across the sky, rippling the waves on the ocean below that no man dared to cross.

It wasn’t enough. Higher he went, his wings cutting through the clouds, touching heights rumored only gods could touch. His heart pounded, the adrenaline muffling his father’s warnings that was tossed aside like nothing.

He experienced things that no man could ever tell stories of; the wonders of what the sky above would be like, now sat on his fingertips. He would be a god; he will sit upon his throne above his people, beside Zeus and Hera in victory. He would do the actions only a god could do.

Closer and closer he flew to the flaming ball of heat, the warmth of his awaited glory, heating his face. His features now golden like his subject will see him as.

But alas, the warmth grew too warm, burning him, melting his glory to nothing. In one moment he had gold created by Chrysus in his hands and the bittersweet taste of the finest wine crafted by Dionysus on his tongue. In the next moment, the gold burned him and the luxurious drink of the gods was poison to his taste.

Many tell the story of Icarus’ rise and fall, but never his submergence. In the flames of the sun for a moment and the depth and cold of the foreboding sea in the next. The waves swallow him whole, the last thoughts coming to his mind not all that he could have been, but the words his father left him that he should have heeded.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Random fluffy kitchen scene

@middleearthpixie @laurfilijames : This is for you, ladies...

I left it consciously vague, so for everyone with a real or imaginary crush...

This is for you as well...Enjoy

700 little words of comfort and fluff

Work had been a bloody mess again and he was tired and slightly grumpy as he opened the front door.

The heavenly smell hit him at the same time as he recognised the soft song playing in the background. Home. Her. Happiness.

Dropping the briefcase and letting his jacket fall past the little wooden bench they had bought at a local market, he made his way into the kitchen to find her – lost in thoughts – stirring a pot slowly.

As quietly as he could, he snuck up behind her, easing his arms around her waist and pressing a tender kiss onto the nape of her neck.

She did not stiffen or flinch, no, she flowed like water and sand into his arms, melting like wax in his arms until she filled out all the cracks in his soul. Soft, he thought, and resilient.

This woman would not crack or shatter; she mellowed to absorb blows and her infinite kindness and the generosity of her gentle soul humbled him every day.

The anger and frustration – senseless, useless, aimless feelings – of the day drained away as he held her thus, warmed by the trust and affection she never tried to hide.

“Something smells good,” he smiled, “and it’s not the food.”

She laughed upon hearing the cheesy line; it would always make her chuckle when he quoted a movie or a show they had watched together and so, he did it as often as he could.

Not that he was particularly interested in everything she watched but just seeing her face light up or hearing her laugh so heartily she forgot to suck in her tummy and cover her mouth was enough to make him want to write a love letter to the producers of the show or movie in question.

“I’ve missed you,” she purred as she turned around, her silken hair soberly pulled out of her face lest one rogue strand make its way into the food, which he would actually not have minded all that much.

“Oh, me too,” he admitted, feeling her warm breath smelling of the herbs she usually chewed on while cooking – unable to resist snacking – ghost across his face, “we could have ordered something.”

“I know that you had a hard day at work,” she just shrugged, eyeing the book sitting in a corner of the counter – kept open by a wooden spoon – that had almost made her lose track of time, hence why dinner was not ready yet.

“You’re all I need though,” he muttered, pressing a warm kiss onto those fragrant, soft lips that dictated his whole life by weaving the spell of unforeseen and hardly believable bliss around him.

“Nonsense, you need to eat,” she grinned.

“Aye, my love, that I do…” he consented, but the slight tremor in his abdomen spoke of a different kind of hunger. He wanted her, laid out like a feast, bathed in the soft light of one of the too many lamps they had amassed over the years, smiling up at him tenderly.

“Later,” she chuckled as she read the expression in his eyes, her own promising that cocktail of rapture and sweet love she was the fountain and the well of.

“Make yourself at home, dinner will be ready in a few,” she commanded, and he trudged over to the living room only to find the messy blanket under which she had been cuddled up earlier, lost in her book. Had she been thinking of him? Imagining his face when reading about daring heroes and brazen, swash-buckling dagos?

He couldn’t help lifting it to his face to breathe in the familiar smell of the perfume she got every Christmas from her mother and the faint ghost of the wine she had spilled onto the plaid and had merely dabbed off yesterday. Her being filled his world, the scents, the colours, the moods, all that was her had become the soundtrack and the scenery of his life, and he had never been happier.

Already, he missed her soft body pressed against his and her mocking smiles teasing him for being reduced to a puddle of goo by her mere presence.

“Almost done,” she called from the kitchen as if reading his thoughts.

His favourite movie was in the DVD player, his favourite dish was on the stove, and his favourite person was just in the other room; maybe, this would be a good day after all.

[mustbethistalltofeel]

>Random drabble, mostly for fun.  I also take prompts/Requests 

“Hey, Catra.”

Shimmering yellow and cold blue eyes blinked, much more focused on the slowly crawling ant that was on the floor of the abandoned room she was living in at the moment. Her body was pushed low to the ground and her ears were perked while her tail swatted left and right. The ant was following the trail of crumbs from Adora’s crackers, getting closer and closer to Catra.

“Catra?”

Ever so slowly, she lifted one of her hands, tail going deathly still while she tensed her fingers and let her black, gleaming claws unsheath. The unaware ant let its antenna give a soft twitch, moving forward to nibble on a much larger chunk of cracker. 

And right as Catra’s claws were about to come down on the small insect…

“Catra!” 

A loud yowl left her lips at the sudden feeling of fingers pinching her ear and a loud voice calling into it, making her jump high enough to almost touch the ceiling. When she landed she was on her feet, mane puffed out and tail bristling as she whipped around and glared at her cackling companion with fury burning in her tiny body.

“What the heck Adora!?” 

The blond was too busy laughing to answer her, hands on her stomach and face red from her annoyingly nice-sounding laugh. Despite the anger burning in her chest, she couldn’t ignore how quickly her fur seemed to lower and tense muscles relaxed, knowing she was safe with the annoying girl sitting next to her. 

“S-Sorry! Sorry! You weren’t listening to me though!” She finally got out, whipping the tears from her crystal blue eyes. 

“Well, I was busy!” Was the magicat’s reply, eyes going towards the ant she had been stalking, only for her ears to flatten as she saw it was nowhere to be seen. 

She wanted to play with it…

With a huff she flopped down onto her back, arms crossing over her chest while she stared up at the dusty ceiling. A second later, Adora joined by her side and the warmth of her next to Catra made the easy to conjure anger simply vanish. She turned to look at the blond, eyes glowing in the dark and dusty room.

“What did you want?” 

Catra could see the human’s features change with ease through the dark, see her button nose scrunch up and eyes narrow. She could see her lift her arm up and stare at the bare skin with obvious wonder. 

“Do you know what soulmarks are?”

It was such a random question, and it made Catra scowl. 

“The heck is a soulmark?” She didn’t like not knowing something, it always made her feel stupid.

Adora perked up, always ready to explain something new to her friend. Something that always ticked Catra off. Was she that happy that the feline didn’t know something? Ugh.

“Hope told me about them. It’s these pictures that show up on your skin! They can show up anywhere and can be of anything!” Adora excitedly rambled, her head turning to where she would be able to see Catra’s glowing, mismatched eyes.

“Wait, like a tattoo?” Catra asked, ears perking up. She’d always thought tattoos were super cool! 

“Uh, I think? Hope said you can’t get rid of them, but you also don’t get to choose what you get. Plus, someone will get the same picture too.” Adora said with a shrug, and that made Catra’s excitement die by a lot.

“What!?” She yelled while lurching up, a look of utter disgust on her face. “That is sooooo lame! What’s even the point!?” Why would you want some random picture on your body!? One that isn’t even new or cool!?

“Well, I thought that too! But Hope told me it’s because the person who shares the picture is supposed to be, like, the most important person in your life!” 

Catra blinked, staring down at the starry eyed blond as she talked. A picture with someone who was close to you? That sounded...kinda cool. 

“Wait, so does that mean me and you are gonna get soul marks? Since we’re best friends?” She scratched her fuzzy cheek while tilting her head. She couldn’t think of anyone in her life that was more important than Adora, who chose to play with the ‘homeless’ magicat girl with the messy hair and smelly, ratty clothes. 

She didn’t say it out loud, obviously. Adora would hit her for ‘being mean to her bestest best friend in all of Etheria’.

“I mean, I can’t think of anyone else more important than you.” Adora said with a shrug, and then yelped as Catra’s tail swatted her nose, the other girl feeling heat race up to her cheeks at that little comment. 

“Stop saying things like that. It makes me feel weird.” She snapped, even as she moved to snuggle up to the other girl’s side, hiding her face in her shoulder. “Sides, you act like everyone is important to you...”

“I mean...I like everyone!” Catra couldn’t help but scrunch her face up a bunch at that, even though she felt Adora’s arms wrapping around her dumb, scrawny body. “But I like you even more than them!” 

“...promise?” 

“I promise!” 

Catra...would hold her to that.

[pencil-free]

this has nothing to do anything i’m working on, just a little prompt for @marimo-punk asked for.

--

“It’s quite inefficient.”

“What is?” The underground library was huge. It spanned the same area as the town above them, its corridors and halls, archways and balconies following the same path as the markets and alleys. It was emptier, though, and older, and Feldspar could hear Kree’s frustrated snort from across one of the library’s greater chambers as well as if he’d shouted them. Feldspar snapped the book he’d been skimming over and listened to the echo fade. 

“This.” Feldspar spotted a dark hand peek out from between the bookshelves a fair ways off as Kree dismissed their current quest with a toss of his arms. “If we’re too find something special enough to require a deadline, you’d think we’d be provided more of a hint than a secret chamber.”

Feldspar grinned and was glad for the distance. He hadn’t known Kree for any longer than he’d been in the city - and he’d only come in last night with the rest of the refugees - but if there was one thing he’d learned about the Drow it was just how terribly good at glowering he was. And how terrible he’d look if he knew Feldspar was laughing at him. 

“It’s supposed to be behind a secret door. Those don’t usually come with a sign, you know.” And there hadn’t been a sign. Not a written one, at least, but the less dusty copy of a tome was something suspicious he couldn’t keep his hands off of. It triggered something to click open - the door, he assumed - but such an easy end to their mission wouldn’t have been fun. Feldspar picked up another book and flipped through the pages. A copper tumbled out - an old bookmark perhaps. It was his now, he thought as he tucked it into a pocket. Maybe if he continued to let Kree tear the library apart he’d find more. 

[shortieondawave]

J. Cole Short

08-19

Part 1 of ….

The darkness covers the skies as I punch the gas petal; a red plastic cup not inches away from me giving me the leisure to sip in peace whenever I feel the desperate need for the Royal Crown to consume me once more. My mother would probably have a temper tantrum knowing the amount of liquor I’ve downed in the night alone.

Thank goodness she lived her life and gone on to hopefully watch over mine; especially in times like these. If she’s doing the job everyone says; I won’t wreck this $145,000 R8 on the streets of 1-4, causing a scene and while giving the some of those here in Miami exactly what they want most; the angry-tempered man finally reaching the end of his chances. What most won’t admit is, I once built the same cliffs, bridges, and brought water to the rivers that I’ve burned, torn, and swam across to get to a better end. More importantly they won’t give life to the times I’ve held tightly to ones that meant the most to me before becoming Earth’s very own man-storm.  

No one remembers the good.

My stepfather preached that to me and my five siblings the entire fifteen years he spent in our world. I didn’t realize how serious he was until it was too late and I was faced with the truth that as long as you take care of those that are around; you can replace God himself and they’ll knell before you. But once you say no, even to the smallest task…you’re no longer the King you once were. You’re nothing more than a burden that’s holding them back, even when the truth is, you’re the reason they’ve gotten so far.

The timid sounds of J. Howell’s RedRoom entered into my thoughts are the memorized lyrics of “Faithful” surfaced into my mind. I slowly felt my lips moving, no words came out, but the lyrics of that song came so easily in my intoxicated state.

Please dont let it, don't let it go too far

Cause I don't wanna give up

Please don't make it, so hard……

Please don't let it, don't let it go too far.

My numb body is now gaining feeling as the words register, tears building in the corners of my eyes as if my vision isn’t blurred enough. Voices continue to tell me to pull over, allow my body time to rest and sober itself, take it slow. It’s no ordinary warning either; I can feel the nervous and emotional wave washing over my body as if it’d the final warning of life itself.

My left hand left the steering wheel, my leg taking its replacement as I managed to press the repeat button. I put my phone on shuffle over an hour ago just so I didn’t have to worry about picking and choosing anything myself. This is the first time the pick was something meaningful; thus far I been in a uncomfortable mood of random Kodak Black singles, T.I.’s classics, even some mixes of Jeezy, Nipsey, and Dave East. Nothing had been this sentimental.

Regardless of my state; I did make it home. The gates opening as my fumbling finger found the correct button after three minutes and five attempts. I didn’t park the car nearly as straight as I could; but that’ll be something for me to worry about tomorrow. Right now, finding the correct key for the front doors and relaxing in this crisp cool air is my only priority.

“You managed well,” The whispered tone stopped me, causing my blurred vision to leave the tangled keys in my hand and settle on the now wide-open door with a five-four figure standing in front of me.

I hated her voice right now and usually I’ll kill with my bear hands for the sound; it brought peace in a world of drama. Love how clam it is regardless of what she’s going through. I guess those college years working for 911 Dispatch paid off. Never is it sarcastic, never shouts at anyone, never belittling to the other person. It is just perfect for a man after a stressful day.

“I was wondering how well you’ll get home.” Mentally I heard myself respond; telling Nicole to go home firmly and continuing to step into the two story home, however managing to close one of the double wood doors behind me. I could tell from her facial that I was confusing her, the simple dismal never confronting her.

I said that the beauty was never rude or argued, not that her face didn’t say what her mouth wouldn’t.

“LeParis…you’re drunk. Rick and Chad called looking for you two hours ago saying you left the office upset. I called you well over a hundred times for sure. Plus, Chad called and I know he did because he came by and sat here for over an hour hoping you’ll show up.”

“Go home Nicole.” I heard it come out that time.

We all have been around each other since sometime in grade school; growing up here in Dade-County. Nicole was a 911 Dispatcher for the city after we graduated high school, turned registered nurse, and graduating from University of Miami along with myself and Chad in 2013. Within the last year and only four years on the job, she has land the position of Head Nurse at Holtz Children’s Hospital. And just from the looks of it she hadn’t made it home since getting off because her black scrub coat lay idle on my kitchen counter; matching her slacks and white button down shirt.

Interesting.

Whereas Nicole has always been a people-person, helping and healing as I like to call it; Chad and Rick were like my identical non-related, brothers. If they had truly been here earlier, I knew not to expect them here now. Not that there wasn’t any or even much concern, but we know each other well enough to know it’s not necessary to wait and neither is it uncommon for a man to take a drive and drink after a stressful day.  I’ve known Richard since we were in diapers; our mothers were best friends, also making him my god-brother. Chad moved down from Tallahassee, Florida when he was only eight, moving with his grandmother and enrolled into the same school that Rick and I attended. As the bad-ass that only seemed to need some tender-loving to control his anger, it wasn’t long before he was “like-able”. My late mother and Ms. Patricia showed him the way. My mother being a high-school school teacher and Ms. Patricia being a licensed therapist they tweaked out his anger and got him on track. He’s been adopted into Dr. Melvin Patterson’s family since middle school once his grandmother lost custody, a family that my mother has known since she started teaching.

We were all close; however never so close that the emergency key given for emergencies only should be used outside of such.

“You’re drunk LeParis, I’m not going nowhere. What’s the matter with you? Why would I leave the offices, if you’re intoxicated and for God’s sake you drove around for over two hours? Can you at least tell me why?”

“I can tell you to go home one more time before I put you out.”

My slumped body fell to the couch, the plush blanket falling over my torso as I finally laid down; my eyes hurt from the lights she had turned on and the nausea feeling was finally settling in.

Nicole was killing my drunkenness.

“Well…goodnight then. I’ll lock the door behind me.”

See? No fight, no loudness; not an inch of stubbornness lives in this girl.

 “I’m sure Ryan is home waiting on you anyways. You come running and waiting as if this is my first time getting drunk. I’m not a child. I think I can handle some liquor and a drive.”

“Well, Ryan knows I came here to check on you,”

“Nicole you said it yourself, you’ve been here for a few hours. That’s not checking on me. That’s waiting and I don’t’,”

“Okay, Paris, ok.” The voice cut me off, followed by a sigh of defeat.

“Be safe.” That was the last thing she said before I heard the sounds of heels hitting the marble floors and the closing of my door.