judgment day.

TOGETHER, STAR GAZING CHILD. we will shine light onto our nation, forge a path of flames and victory, watch the enemy wriggle beneath our toes, for the greater good.

[itisnotasickness-deactivated201]

  “A flower shop? That sounds like a very nice job,” Andrew says, offering another one of his gentle smiles as he lets one of his hands comfortably settle in his pocket. He stands up straight, soft but keen eyes watching the other with the most disarming look he can manage while also attempting to read him, trying to figure out what he may be thinking or feeling, trying to decipher what kind of person he is beyond the sweet and happy exterior.    He can’t help but analyze, but catches himself and tries to tone it down a bit. Reading into every action a person takes and trying to understand it on a deeper level is only needed inside his office, where he does not happen to be at the moment. His secretary, Anna, told him that tonight was meant to be a night off—and she would not be pleased if she knew what he was doing, even if he didn’t necessarily mean to.    There’s a small chuckle from Andrew as he attempts to further snap himself out of therapist-mode, breaking eye contact for the shortest of moments so that he may gather his thoughts and try to keep from reading Sunny’s.    “And I’m sure that I’ll enjoy the cookies just fine. Anything sweet works, really,” he says, looking back toward the other. “I’m Andrew, by the way. I don’t do anything nearly as nice as running a flower shop—I have a psychology practice, actually.”

[wrobots-blog]

     "It's comforting." He replied, offering a small shrug. "Once you spend enough time with the plants, you start realizing just how alive they are. Even without being conscious, their state affects you and how your day goes. Like people." After a second, he actually thought about what he said, and laughed. "Either it's true or I'm just that much closer to being a crazy old geezer." Sometimes Sunny imagined life with his flowers as an animated film featuring some lonely old guy with surreal piano music in the background. Sunny was kind of a nerd.      Sunny could've sworn there was a time when all of this was easier. When being happy wasn't such a forceful thing. It wasn't an uphill fight, it wasn't him pushing against the grain. Happiness had once coursed through his body as naturally as the tides were controlled by the moon. Now happiness had grown stale. It'd become a rut to Sunny. If he's never feeling sadness, happiness couldn't taste as pure.       His eyes narrow as he pushes those thoughts away, agreeing with himself that now was definitely not the time to think about how he could better his lifestyle. Right now he was just making a friend. Who knows, this could be the first step to feeling things.       "It's nice to see you, Andrew." He's grinning, and he nods his head. "I'm, uh, Sunny. Sunny Waters." After introducing himself, he takes another bite of his cookie, chewing carefully as the other spoke. "So, you meet all kinds of people, then? You like what you do?" 

[dancingandmagic]

Visit Original Link

Oh What a Day - Ingrid Michaelson

[dancingandmagic]

Oh what a night is tonight I think I’m ready to fight Now that my broken bones all have been healed I think I’m starting to feel

[wrobots-blog]

    He was getting there. Looking past the obvious things like the three empty bottles in front of him, and the gentle sway of his upper body, you can tell by the way his eyes narrowed when he came up with an especially sad thought, his gaze drifting towards the ground, flickering left to right as he thought. Then, of course, he'd take another swig. 

[last-plea]

                        “I’d like to think so” He said with a gentle smile.

Scott came out just to eat and go back home as soon as possible, he wasn’t expecting to begin a conversation with what looked like to be the only employee in this bakery. Scott hoped his phone would give him a break for a while, thus he could just enjoy his time there. He listened to the other male speak closely not wanting to miss any explanation. Scott liked everything he had mentioned and he bet it all looked good, now he was even more confused to what he was going to get. 

"No please, don’t give me any other options I’m already torn-" he said with a smile as he brought the tip of his thumb to his chin with a thoughtful glance, not wanting to waste so much time of the other guy. "Hmm I think I will have a slice of that cake with marshmallow and all" he said after a few seconds. Scott was really impatient about most things unrelated to work. "Do you work here by yourself?" he asked quickly not wanting to miss the chance to get to know this guy, he seemed harmless and Scott needed someone like that around. He was tired of dealing with crazy maniacs all the time.

[wrobots-blog]

     According to Roy, there had to be a connection between the customer and the chef to get the best taste -- which is why running this bakery was such a challenge. Once you knew the little things people liked, cooking food for that one person was easy, but with this bakery he was dealing with so many different people and so many different tastes. Sometimes it was kind of stressful, but generally seeing people enjoy his food so much made it all worth it in the end. Not to say that the process was all bad. He loved baking. It was just a lot sometimes. 

    "Lemon cake with marshmallow and coconut frosting? One of my favorites. To bake and eat, that is."  He's grinning now, and since he liked this guy, he put two cakes in the small Styrofoam container instead of one. "That'll be $2.79." He placed the cake on the counter. "And -- no, the other employees went on a lunch break. Should be back pretty soon." 

[gemeyed-deactivated20140825]

  Oh, no.    Rudeness.   There’s nothing that the demon hates more than rudeness. The bitter stain of human character. The lack of poise, finesse, and proper behavior. It’s always the rudeness of others that usually seals their fate with Kolbe, and it appears that this boy is no exception—it doesn’t matter how drunk or young he is, there’s simply no excuse. Especially when he has the audacity to say that Kolbe was the one being rude.    “I was only trying to steady you. You looked a little wobbly.” 

[wrobots-blog]

                    "Oh. Suppose I am a little wobbly, huh? Thanks, brother." 

     His weight was actively shifting between his feet. A bashful grin graces his features, dirty-sneaker clad foot kicking at the cement beneath him. A hand reached up behind his ear, rubbing at it awkwardly. Suppose there were some kind souls travelling about Earth. Rare, but apparently definitely there. 

         "S'kinda dark, and this is a sketchy place, brother. I was a little bit jumpy, I s'pose. Hey -- you be careful walkin' through these parts. There're some suspicious characters roamin' around this time of night, y'hear? This world don't need good blood spilled, brother."

[gemeyed-deactivated20140825]

  There’s no shame in taking a cheap shot now and again.   Kolbe slipped off the bus, silent and careful, and slipped behind the young drunken mess. He took his time, letting the other stumble aimlessly for a few moments before he allowed himself to slip forward and place a hand on the boy’s shoulder, careful that his touch wasn’t all too startling. The boy shouldn’t be panicking, at least not yet. His time would come.

[wrobots-blog]

     Excuse him, but he's not so used to having strange hands on his shoulders. Especially when he's this drunk and this dizzy. Those moths flickering 'round the streetlamps were also givin' him the bumps a bit. He twirled around, feet coordination rather off, and narrowed his eyes as he tried to peek through his dimly lit surroundings. Just some tall dude who probably let his mother comb his hair as a child. 

           "S'kinda rude, brother. Normal skins would'a clocked you up one good. I wouldn't trek through tryna pull that stunt in every hood." 

[gemeyed-deactivated20140825]

  What a funny place this earth is, housing drunken children who are out far too late at night. That’s the thought that crossed the demon’s mind as he caught sight of the boy, and he couldn’t help but find himself shifting to a closer seat so he may get a better look. Teenagers were cheap shots, of course, but they always did house an exceptional amount of pain that he adored keeping in vials. There was nothing like young blood, young agony—and Kolbe knew that. Any demon, even any human, would know that.

[wrobots-blog]

     As the bus approached Rusty's stop (or at least what Rusty thought to be his stop), he pulled down his headphones from his ears, squinting ahead through the darkness that was only occasionally pierced by dim streetlights. He pulled on the cord, and stumbled over to the back door. Shortly after exiting, he took a hefty swig of the contents in his paper bag, and looked around, growing quickly frustrated with himself and his lack of a sense of direction. 

[wrobots-blog]

     This was practically the foundation of his entire life. Here he was: 17 and taking public transportation home at 2:30 AM, just on the brink of too-drunk-to-function. He gazed out the window like some modern hipster music video with his headphones blasting. It was this nice sad indie song about some romance shit. He just liked the sound of it. 

[archangxlus-deactivated20170528]

        “Probably, but a couple hail marys should fix that right up.”

[wrobots-blog]

      "Radical. Are you actually religious at all?" 

[wrobots-blog]

ALIENS NEXT TO TUMBLR. THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE. 

[last-plea]

Jenkins wasn’t expecting the other guy to take him on that offer, but didn’t mind that he’d done. Jen didn’t know if what he had asked came off as rude, it just looked like he had an iced latte situation going on. Jen shifted on his seat to make room for him to pass, he wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling that this guy wasn’t very interested in this class; well, he wasn’t himself so he couldn’t blame him. He thought introduction to musical studies would be more than reading about Beethoven and doing a bunch of pointless essays. 

               ”Yeah kinda, are you?” 

                            He asked feeling a little annoyed by his clicking.

[wrobots-blog]

    Nick felt himself actively using this guy as a distraction from this wickedly dumb essay. Every second that passed he felt more and more inclined to say something to keep conversation going. But at this rate, with how uninteresting this guy seemed, and how uninteresting this essay was, he was probably going to have a pretty awful time either way. Nick pulled down the screen of the laptop halfway, just to get a better view of the other guy. Shortly after taking a sip of his latte, he responded, "What do you mean 'kinda'? You keep half of your body out of the room while taking the class?" 

[last-plea]

    Cakes were one of the few things Scott liked. They always reminded him of those his mother would bake when he was younger. Coming to bakeries like this one was his means of looking back to those memories and no one could ever know, from anyone’s point of view he was just an ordinary costumer. He grinned softly when he heard the other guy’s answer, that was the first time someone ever asked him that when he entered in a shop. Most of the people would just give out whatever they’ve got. He was already liking this place, but at the same time reminding himself  that this man was probably being nice just so he would come back. Either way he was ok with it. 

                  “Not really, but I like lemon a lot. Strawberry is fine too.”

[wrobots-blog]

                "Wonderful! Those are great choices, my friend." 

      Roy's grinning now. Impossible for him not to when he spoke about food. Especially when someone else spoke about food. He already knew how his taste buds worked, but seeing how someone else responded to certain flavors and what made them tick was one of the many great things about having this job. Finding out what tastes tickled their fancy, and making them grin when they tried a dessert. Food just made people happy. That was a known fact. 

      "Lucky, lucky you. I myself love working with lemon. Let's see, let's see..." Now he's checking through his stock at the moment, making a mental list of everything he's got. "Okay, okay. We've got us lemon panna cotta with lemon marmalade, lemon shortbread cookies, lemon cake with marshmallow and coconut frosting, lemon squares, lemon ginger cheesecake, and lemon soufflés. Of course if you are not interested in any of that, I can give you your strawberry options." 

[archangxlus-deactivated20170528]

“Nope! Probably hurts a bit, now that I think of it.”

[wrobots-blog]

"...Are we bad people for this?"

[last-plea]

       Sometimes Jenkins liked to take random art courses just because he had an interest in the subject. Though he didn’t really want a job that had anything to deal with art; he was just an enthusiast. The guy was a little annoyed by the amount of work this teacher asked of them, but he was willing to do it anyway. He couldn’t drop out of the class anymore. Jen was a little distracted with the girl in front of him that was drawing a swan when this dude asked him something about napkins, Jenkins took one and gave it to him.

                                      “Let me know if you need more or just sit here" 

                                                             Jen said pointing to the seat next to himself.

[wrobots-blog]

      It's not like he was a messy eater at all. He only wanted one to help out with all that condensation that was happening on the outside of his iced latte. He gave out his own little dramatic huff, and collected his laptop and coffee, then moved to seat across from this person. It was hard to tell if anything about their tone was meant to come across as grumpy, so he couldn't decide whether or not to give them any sass yet. He just sort of began clicking away at the keys of his laptop, offering occasional, quick glances up at the other male. 

                 "--...You a student?" 

[last-plea]

Scott didn’t have any work to do on that day, even though he was the head of his department. Apparently things have been quiet for a while and he was grateful for that. He had found sometime to visit the new bakery that had opened next to his place. The male shot the other a smile and said pointing to the cakes.

                     “Hello there, thank you. What’s your suggestion?” 

[wrobots-blog]

     Roy would be damned if he ever thought of his bakery as a job. Maybe was just in the phase of work where he wasn't bored. He knew the generic case of a person generally suffered from what he called the Rut Syndrome, where they do the same things on loop for the rest of their life. Roy wasn't trying to be that kind of person. He liked what he did too much. He was good at what he did. Roy offered the man a smile back, canting his head at the selection. They were all pretty good. 

                        "You've got a favorite fruit, buddy?"

[archangxlus-deactivated20170528]

"Anytime he tries, he gets nailed to the boards.”

[wrobots-blog]

"The crown of thorns probably isn't appropriate headgear, either." 

[archangxlus-deactivated20170528]

Michael shouldn’t laugh at other’s mishaps. He’s an angel, he should be more kind and aware of human plights, but you have to admit, watching someone chase a bird down for a bag of seeds is slightly humorous. When the man gives up, Michael decides to lend him a helping hand. He retrieves the seeds from the bird (with only a little coaxing, and maybe a bit of Heavenly magic), and walks over to the man who’d lost this.                                “I think these are yours.” Michael sets the bag down beside him.

[wrobots-blog]

     Of course this would happen. Just leave it to Sunny's      luck. Who knows, though? Maybe some fallen angel      will just swoop in with Sunny's bag of seeds and just      plant them on the ground next to him. This thought       caused Sunny to sigh a bit in frustration, but the       feeling didn't exactly last long. 

               "How did you --...?" 

     Sunny sat up, glancing from the seeds to the       man that delivered them, and back again.