cornwallwrites

[cornwallwrites]

I’m finally posting something! It’s been months!

[cornwallwrites]

10:00 to Edinburgh

Train stations always reminded her of death. It was the silence, the carefully muted conversations as people struggled not to disturb anyone else there. It was like they were all at a funeral for someone no one could remember how they knew.

It had probably started when she had to wait on a delayed train to go see her grandfather. The associating stations with death, that is. She got a phone call when the train was pulling in, as she queued with the hordes of people who all wanted to get home, and her mother spoke quietly. Told her it was too late. To still come, the family needed to pull together at a time like this.

Grace ran. From the train, from the funeral, from everything. That night she got drunk and went home with a stranger. She did the same for a week straight, went to the wake at her aunt’s house with a hangover that made her need to vomit three times an hour, went straight back out to a bar once she’d done her daughterly duty.

Train stations echoed with death. It was only fitting, then, that it was in a station she killed someone.

[cornwallwrites]

I got a lil tipsy and emo so here’s a story I haven’t proofread because why would I do that for myself like ever 

@colubrina sorry again? 

[cornwallwrites]

I’m free!! University is over for the year, except for graduation and the event I’m arranging, but I have no more deadlines except self-imposed ones, and I couldn’t be happier. To celebrate, I managed to write a new chapter! ( @colubrina I hope you don’t mind being tagged)

[cornwallwrites]

@colubrina Thank you for the idea, sorry it got a little emotional but this is apparently where I am. If I knew how to do “read more” on mobile I would.

Alice walked into the ocean, leaving behind her mother, still waving the bottle of sunscreen like a religious relic. She was tired of being saved from the sun, tired of lectures about her grades and her shirts and her future. She walked and walked until the water was up to her chest, the sand had turned to sharp rocks under her feet, and the fish, bleeding green, asked her for help from its human mouth.

“Love me.” The fish pleaded with Alice’s voice, with Alice’s words, with Alice’s tears pouring down its face. “Please.”

The tears were gone from Alice. Not finished but stolen. They weren’t hers anymore and she wondered if they ever were.

“I just need someone to love me. Just once. Please, be that person.” Her words, the words she wanted to say but never did, were pouring out of the fish so quickly she wouldn’t have known what it was saying if she wasn’t constantly thinking it.

Her mother was behind her somewhere, probably still brandishing the bottle of sunscreen, probably still screeching about her going into the water alone, probably making a fool of herself by yelling after her adult daughter like she’s a toddler. Alice wanted to care, really, she wanted to go back and appease the woman who was only trying to do what she thought was right, but she couldn’t make herself leave the fish. Couldn’t stop listening to her own voice telling her every dark thought she had.

“I know I’m not a good person but can’t I get what others get? Don’t I deserve even a fraction of what others get all of? Can’t I get a little more out of life?”

Then the voice changed as the water rippled and Alice wasn’t seeing a fish but a face she only recognised from photographs hidden in drawers and cried over at midnight. Her father stared at her and the tears were her own again, hers to sob or store.

“It isn’t a case of deserving. You deserve everything you want. You just need to let yourself be open to it.”

Splashed behind her rippled the water again and the face was lost, the fish fleeing so quickly she would have doubted it was ever there.

“Ally, come on. Mummy’s worried.” Nina pulled on Alice’s arm gently, the tide pushing them both back towards the beach and away from whatever safety she’d had in the ocean.

[cornwallwrites]

I want to write but I’ve no plot ideas: an autobiography by me

[cornwallwrites]

12 Lies in a whole bunch of truth

She hated this. Didn’t want to feel like this but here she was. Again.

Pansy had known letting him in again would never work. That she was only going to get hurt again but she told everyone (herself) that it was fine. He was honest about not wanting a relationship and wasn’t that just perfect because she didn’t want one either (Lie 1).

So when he flirted she responded and she let herself get used to constantly messaging him, constantly talking, while she definitely wasn’t hoping he was more into this than he said he was, wasn’t hoping he’d turn around and change his mind about a relationship (Lie 2).

So when he didn’t talk to her for four days after 3 weeks of consistency, Pansy was fine. Completely fine. He was just busy, you know, and that’s totally cool (Lie 3). Or, well, maybe he was over it, and that was fine too. It wasn’t like they were anything, so they didn’t need to have “the talk” when it was over. She was fine without it (Lie 4).

Messaging him was a stupid idea and she knows that but it’s happened and she refuses to beat herself up about it (Lie 5). It kinda worked, anyway, in that they kept chatting and he finally invited her round to his. She tried to be chill but told her friends for safety, not because she was bouncing off the walls with excitement (Lie 6).

Then he didn’t talk to her all day before she was supposed to go round but he was probably just busy at work, people can’t constantly be messaging, that’s crazy. So she went about her day and didn’t think about him (Lie 7) and agreed to go out with some friends that night. She danced and flirted in the club and almost went home with someone who asked her but didn’t. Which had nothing to do with the guy who still hadn’t messaged her (Lie 8).

She messaged him, drunk and a little angry, a little sad, a little confused. He hadn’t been active in ages so she didn’t bother to check if he’d seen it in the hour before she finally got to bed (Lie 9) but he replied after she woke up, still slightly drunk, still angry and sad, saying he wasn’t sure if he’d meant come round. She told him to let her know when he’d decided because she didn’t have all day (Lie 10) and wouldn’t be ready as soon as he said okay (Lie 11).

He didn’t reply. Didn’t even open the message, although he probably looked at the notification. He’d been online so many times since then, but it was 2 days later and he still hadn’t opened it. Pansy has messaged again, 24 hours after the first, almost apologising for being so antagonistic with the first message but restating the message that if he doesn’t want this, he just needs to fucking say.

She tells her friends she’s fine, of course, because she wasn’t that into this in the first place (Lie 12).

[cornwallwrites]

Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.

Hell yes, everyone is always welcome to do any of the things, you will have my undying love and appreciation for it. (Translations are also a-okay.)

[cornwallwrites]

Because I was like half an hour early to class and I had nothing else to do

@colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

Because I finished the first draft of the first chapter of my dissertation this morning

@colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

Because I don’t want to do my dissertation @colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

The fourth chapter of the weekend because I am avoiding my actual work @colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

I have been planning this for so long, please don’t hate me

@colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🌞❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

I am going to steal that little sun and hope we get lots more of it but snow is the literal worst weather condition, partly because we don’t get real proper snow because we’re on the coast. Hopefully any you get is pretty but goes quickly and tidily, just like February ❤️❤️

[cornwallwrites]

I’m a tiny bit sorry for writing this I swear @colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

The first steps towards cuteness

@colubrina

[cornwallwrites]

I am sorry, if that helps at all

@colubrina