featheryfingers

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          "--Yeah." The quietness laces her mouth, and she speaks again with hesitance, "But, it doesn't mean you can't be one." 

{ closed | featheryfingers }

  “Do you think I look too young to be a father?”

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          【 She stares; green so very vibrant even though there was a heavy shade of darkness that clung to the hue that struck her optics brashly. 】

           "...Hello." 

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        【 Hazel had always found the tiniest of things to be interesting; whether it was the way one could twirl and twist their fingers, or the simply breath of a human-- there was nothing that wouldn't make her eyes widen with anticipation, and lighten with the utmost sense of fascination, simply because, there was nothing she hadn't found to be the least bit interesting; from books to poetry, all the way to eyes and toes; there truly was nothing that didn't amaze little Hazel. 】

           "--All of the above, y--es." 

❝books, books, and more books--!❞ m a y + hazel

        【It was always quiet in the little bookstore. Always. There were typically one or two people in at a time so it didn’t really mean she had a lot to do during the day. It was always quiet, boring, and a bit sad. It was rather gloomy out for the late October day, nothing really new in the Big Apple. But when she saw a cute little young woman walk through the door, she grinned, actually excited to get to do something.】

         ”Yes! Of course! What kind of book would you like…”

        【She walked from behind her desk and too the bookshelves.】

         ”Poetry, romance, thriller… All of the above?”

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how to plot with me

Step 1: Come into my askbox, press the capslock, and casually ask for the opportunity to plot with me whilst mimicking the act of hyperventilating

Step 2: Wait for me to inevitably respond with an over-enthusiastic "FUCK YEAH"

Step 3: Shout AUs and ideas at each other over the internet

Step 4: exchange Skypes

Step 5: Bam, starter, courtesy of me

[featheryfingers]

          【 She's tiny and scared--always scared-- but who is to say she's a freak? Who is to say a shaking, petite, frail little thing is a freak? Or maybe it was the way she murmured; possibly the way she'd often mumble incoherent words to herself-- consonants and vowels just barely passing the pinkness that endeared her mouth-- though, she was nothing more than a brow-furrowed being whilst standing in front of the girl. 】

           "--I--I'm sorry?" 

       { Katherine’s tired and lonesome and hungry. Not the ‘oh gosh; I’d love a bagel!’ kind of hungry. But a ‘let me sink my fangs into your throat’ sort of hungry. It wasn’t pleasant. But she was under control. She spins on her heels as she’s bumped into; a small smile consuming her lips at the sight of the small girl. } 

                              “It’s fine. Just —- don’t start bleeding.” 

        { Oh, what a strange thing to say! }