#i was called down to the fucking counselor's office because she apparently made an appointment with the only comment being I'm Really Sad -

[fabulouslygaybean]

crying in public is so fucking embarrassing

[ultrawitchywriterus]

Chapter 1 of Witch

Here is the first chapter of something that will either be a personal novel or will turn into a Castlevania Fanfic. Who knows for now what the outcome will be.The title may also change but for now this is the filler. 

                                                         Witch

                                       Eostre Wilhelmina Blaese

               Autumn’s cold embrace swept across the quiet city lit by pale yellow light. Earthy scents mix with the gas from constant traffic of the day and enter the tired lungs of passerby. Their faces turned white from their small screens as they browse and like the numerous posts they see in their feed. Rain threatens them as some wait for buses and cabs while others walk quickly to reach the end of their journey. Thunder rumbles as it draws closer and lightning flashes like camera bulbs. A woman with brown hair rushes down the sidewalk, head tilted down with eyes locked onto the ground. She hugs herself against the chill of autumn’s rain and curses the loose strands of hair that impede her vision. The click of her heels fills her head and keeps a fast tempo for her racing thoughts. “This walking to and from work shit is starting to get old.”

               “I need to get that fucking transmission fixed already. Finding an asshole that won’t charge me the price of the car when I bought it though, is proving to be a nightmare.” She sighs deeply and rubs her right eye wanting to just lay in bed the entire weekend. The adult who is responsible act is getting tiring. The body aches and fatigue are not worth the financial stability some days. The need to call and make an appointment with her counselor nags at the back of her head. “Maybe Monday I’ll remember but we’ll see if I feel up to it or even remember it.” The threat of not achieving the basic housework this weekend is already looming as the motivation to do it is already gone. The motivation of making dinner at home is also basically gone with this weather but a cheesy potato soup recipe has been calling lately. Those ingredients would also go bad if it didn’t happen tonight like their ancestors of soups past.

               She turns the corner as rain slowly pelts the ground and those who are smart, open their umbrellas and close their coats tighter. Cold wind dances against her bare legs causing bumps to leap from under her skin. She curses those who decided that skirts and blouses are the best attire when participating in meetings. That buffoon in charge always dictates what cloth should be put on staff’s bodies and which type of cloth is appropriate for the same mundane events. “We get it, don’t wear clothes that make you feel tingly because you can’t control yourself. We all know you lack brain power to understand that its your fault and not ours,” her thoughts bring her contract into her mind about how she must follow the dress code accordingly or there would be consequences. Some days she dreads her decision on accepting this job but the need to move away was the most important task at that point in time. She also thought that taking this job would have more meaning to it than her original position, but decisions can’t be made at all.

               Her apartment building comes into view though it is masked by the torrential rain. Brown stone with a tan, wooden entrance enter the sky. The building was built in the eighties and was recently renovated in 2018 due to a massive flood damaging the first three floors. Having to close three out of eight floors for two years didn’t sit well with the landlord and so he shut down the entire building and had them work on it everyday in rain, heat, and snow. It was finished within a year and a half, most likely due to Mr. Hampson’s “influence” within the city. We don’t talk about his influence much, might disappear if you do. He spared no expense in renovating the place, having every apartment receive everything from new windows to floors and even revamping the air conditioning and heating systems. The only apartment they didn’t renovate much was Mr. Hampson’s third floor apartment and office. He only had some fixes and appliances replaced but he didn’t bring his apartment into the more modern, cozy style the rest of the building received. He says he prefers the old style and it keeps the memory of his mother, the original landlord, alive.

               She quickly climbs the five stairs to the entrance and swipes her keycard into the reader. Pulling the door open she enters the cold building. Mr. Hampson must have forgotten to turn on the heat or he hit the wrong button again. The water seems to freeze instantly on her body causing her to shake more than when she was outside. Her glasses still managed to fog from the temperature difference, causing her to pause while they took their sweet time to adjust. There is a thermostat on the way to the elevator that is one of many that controls the building’s overall temperature. Thankfully, Mr. Hampson gifted her a key to unlock the clear box encasing the thermostat. This allowed her to change the temperature to something that agreed with the outside weather instead of keeping it cold on days like this. When she first moved in, she assumed everyone received this key due to his failing eyes. Apparently, she is only one out of five residents who were trustworthy enough to be given a key. The other four have been long time residents and friends of Mr. Hampson, ranging in ages of later thirties to early eighties.  No one was able to tell her why she was deemed worthy of this key, but she must have seemed like a good enough person to be in possession of it.

               The hallway to the elevator was brightly lit following the early evening rain. The silver door to the elevator reflected the light slightly, showing how clean Mikey keeps the doors and frame. To the right of the shining silver was a small plastic box with a small grey lock. Wanting to hurry to her apartment, she presses the up arrow and unlatches the box. The thermostat read that it was set to a chilly sixty instead of the usual seventy-five Mr. Hampson normally sets it to. She sets the temperature to the preferred number and relocks the box in time to hear the dinging of the elevator arriving. She hurries into the elevator and hits the button for the sixth floor. She shivers and hugs herself while she impatiently waits for the numbers above the door to tic by slowly. Wet hair clings to her face and glasses and shoes are filled with water which causes squish sounds as she exits the elevator.

               Keys jingle as she searches for the small, golden mail key to her box. She walks to the left where about twenty mailboxes hang from the wall. She finds 617, Eostre Blaese, and unlocks it to find one small package and three envelopes. She removes the items and shuts the door to her mailbox before continuing down the same hallway to her door. Once again, she struggles to find the silver key before unlocking both locks on her door. A furry darkness greets her as she closes the door, purring as she trots towards to her mother. Hecate rubs her body against Eostre’s legs purring and mewing in happiness. Eostre kicks her heels off next to the messy pile of shoes she swears she will straighten up this weekend. “How are you doing my love?” She bends down to scratch Hecate’s neck and chin before running her hand down her back a few times. She straightens and looks at the mess of a living room that an archeologist would love to dig through. Eostre sighs and enters the kitchen to place her things on the table. The small night light provides enough so that she can locate the table and flip the switch to the overhead light. White fluorescent light partially blinds her as she stands letting her eyes adjust from dim yellow light to this harsh rudeness. Hecate jumps onto the table sniffing at the box before insisting on being fed immediately.

               “Alright my queen, I hear you. I’ll feed you before I forget,” Eostre rubs her thumbs on Hecate’s face and rubs her head in between her hands. Eostre grabs the food bowl, fills it with dry food, and cracks open a can of Sassy Crab flavored cat food. She unceremoniously dumps the food in and mixes it together using a butter knife because she has run out of spoons. Hecate meows more furiously as she follows Eostre across the kitchen demanding her food. Eostre places the bowl onto the way too expensive bowl holder where Hecate hurriedly shoves food into her mouth. Eostre grabs a bottle of water from the table and tops off the water bowl before placing it on the counter with the five other half-filled bottles. She walks to her bedroom and again sighs at the piles of clothes and general mess she will have to clean this weekend. She strips out of her clothes and bra searching for something comfortable that doesn’t smell or have stains. When that fails, she puts on an oversized t-shirt with a picture of a cartoon black cat. She decides pants of any kind are not needed and returns to the kitchen to sit at the table.

               Her phone buzzes showing a notification for three emails, one Facebook notification, and a text message from Marxie. The emails are nothing but spam shit from a store she hasn’t shopped at in three years. The Facebook notification informs her that she has memories and Marxie hates the dude at work who is incompetent yet beautiful. Eostre unlocks her phone and scrolls through her social media apps seeing that nothing new is happening. She shares a video about a cat pouncing on their unsuspecting owner then goes to read Marxie’s text. “Please tell me why I have to jump through flaming hoops of utter shit and piss to have superior dick shit even look at my articles but Mr. shit bricks for brains can have his looked at in seconds. I didn’t go into debt and fight for my position to just have everything I do overlooked while this college drop out gets to do whatever he wants. I hate it here,” Marxie is not the biggest fan of the former new guy. He’s been there for three months and everyone is in love with him because of his pretty boy face. Eostre has read some of the articles he writes, and it seems that its nothing but opinion pieces with no actual evidence or research put into it. Marxie already thinks journalism is a dying career and Shit Bricks doesn’t help that.

               “And here I thought you wanted to marry him and start your own personal newspaper together. I don’t know what to tell you hun, there is that position open at your competitor you could try for. You’ve kinda done everything in your power to gain more recognition but you can’t get it when they don’t want to give it to you in the first place,” unfortunately Eostre was out of advice and ideas for Marxie. They both lived in a city that catered to males more than anything and almost every woman in this city has had to fight for their positions at work. Kind of a backwards type of area they are in but being in a more rural area of the country doesn’t help anyone.

               Marxie is most likely already drunk or tipsy so Eostre doesn’t expect a text back until the morning. Marxie will beg to meet for breakfast at the greasiest joint in the city to help with her hangover and honestly Eostre will agree because she was trash that loved unhealthy food. Eostre looked at the time on her phone, 7:33. “I have to do dishes before I cook, and cooking will take about an hour. I wouldn’t be eating at least until nine or nine-thirty. Aw fuck it, I’ll order from that new Chinese place and see how they do.” Hecate jumps onto the table licking her mouth and paws trying to clean herself. Eostre looks up the restaurant and places an online order for delivery getting way too much food but she wanted to sample a good variety to see if the place was decent.

               The food is estimated to be at her door in about forty minutes or so. Plenty of time to get some shit done meaning watching YouTube. She pulls up a video about two grown men seeing if something would taco. Oh, pine needles in a taco shell doesn’t work. Who would have thought? As Eostre watches she absentmindedly pets Hecate. Hecate starts to move in circles to make sure all the best areas get their scratches. While circling, Hecate trips over the small box causing it to fall onto the other chair. She meows and follows the box onto the chair. She begins tapping it with her paw and sniffing it. “Oh yeah the mail,” Eostre reaches over and picks up the box and envelopes. The envelopes just contained junk and a statement for that month’s power bill. She looks at the box and sees that it is addressed to Ms. Constance Montgomery in 607. Eostre occasionally gets her mail and is the reason she has met Ms. Montgomery in the first place. Eostre had accidentally opened the package thinking it was the expensive bowl holder she had ordered for Hecate but found different varieties of dried plants. She realized her mistake and apologized profusely to Ms. Montgomery who had in turn gotten Eostre’s package, though she was smart to read the name on the box before tearing into it without care.

               “I’ll give them to her tomorrow, its too late to go bug her right now. I know she says that she normally goes to sleep early,” she places the package back onto the table and instantly Hecate is rubbing against it. “I’ll take this as an opportunity as you telling me to buy myself something so you can have the box to play in. Noted.” Eostre scratches behind the black cat’s ears and hears her phone vibrate. “Listen here you beautiful bitch of mine. I am fucking drunk and expect you to text me to text you in the morning so we can go gorge ourselves on Sammie’s breakfast plate. I’m gonna chug the shit out of this fucking Fireball and go pass out. Luv you bitch.” Marxie knows how to charm a girl doesn’t she. “Well, at least I know what I am doing first thing in the morning. I don’t know if I’ll wait to deliver this package before or after breakfast. After does give me the chance to pick up a cup of tea for Ms. Montgomery. I’ll do after because of that.” Knocking interrupts her thoughts of tea and breakfast signaling that her current food had arrived.

               Eostre walks to the front door making sure the shirt covers all the bits she doesn’t want seen. She opens the door and is greeted by the delivery woman, who hands over the food. Even though Eostre prepaid for the food and tip, she hands the woman another five dollars to add onto it. The woman thanks her and wishes her a good night before walking away. Eostre shuts the door and walks to the kitchen to look through her small pile of fried goods. Sweet and sour chicken but will only use a small portion of the actual sauce mainly because she likes the fried chicken? Check. Cream cheese wontons? Check. Noodles? Check. Hot and Spicy soup? Check. And egg drop soup? Check. Two egg rolls? Also check. “I swear this wasn’t this much when I was checking out. I need to work out and eat better,” she grabs a fork from her drawer, and she would get a spoon if she had any clean ones. She hates herself but she also grabs the plastic spoon to use for her at home buffet. She grabs her loot and clicks her tongue for Hecate to follow her into the living room.

               She places the items on the table in front of her couch and turns on the TV that rests on a decorative stand that she found at Goodwill. She places it on YouTube and continues watching the playlist of will it do this weird food thing. She sits like this for a few hours enjoying the time of the quiet environment, men being weird and consuming weird things, and eating some bomb Chinese food. Hecate falls asleep on the couch behind her after unsuccessfully stealing food from the different containers. She was given a small bit of chicken with no breading but nothing else.

               When it hits ten Eostre decides its time to place leftovers in the fridge and head onto bed. This doesn’t mean sleeping exactly but it may happen eventually. She replaces the covers on the containers and turns off the TV. She checks and double checks the front door is locked along with the side balcony door in the kitchen. The lights are turned off leaving only pale-yellow dots of various night lights dotting different areas of the apartment. Hecate is at her heels as they both enter her bedroom, both ready for the ultimate level of comfort. Eostre removes some of the clothes from this morning off the bed and puts her phone on the charger. She turns off the lights in the room save the one night light in the corner socket. She lets herself get comfortable before Hecate chooses her spot. Eostre lays in bed and plays on her phone until her mind is quiet.

[queennicoleinboots]

Swamp Business

Joebear growled as I walked in the woods naked. I had finished eating my vegetable soup and had taken my shower. Now I was ready for Joebear's fat ass.

"Bae Whuhh!!!!" I shouted.

But Joebear's fat ass was not ready for me. He was taking a shit that made even swamps smell like fresh cut roses. It seems that the sewer was flying out of Joebear's sacred fat ass. It was sexy, BUT IT STANK!

Our young black and white cat named Oreo came storming into the swamp. Kissy, our female orange cat that grew to be twice the size she was a week ago, followed Miss Oreo. Garfield was sitting near a tree and farting. It was sexy, BUT IT STANK!

"Hoowoo Bae Whuhh you sexy!" I said. At that moment, I started my period. I had swamp vagina. I needed business more than ever. "BAE WHUHH!!! I NEED BUSINESS BAEWHUHH!!!"

"Kissy! Kissy!" Joebear said in a high-pitched voice of excitement. Kissy ran over there to lay with him. Oh shit the cats are getting involved. "Bae! Come lay with me!"

I laid with my bear. A barbeque chicken pizza fell out of the sky. My bear ate pizza. I ate pizza.

Colonel Mac rode over to us while he was eating pizza.

Peter also was eating pizza, but he was off the toilet and dancing in ballet style around in a purple T-shirt and a pink bekini. The bottom of his tummy would show when he would skip in the air.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and Megara were also eating pizza. They had three female cubs, but the cubs were up in Tennessee visiting Megara's big mother bear. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing sang opera while we enjoyed our dinner.

Paul the Goat rode Hollywood while they both ate pizza.

Kissy then ate my pizza crust and meowed as though she were a wind-up toy.

Her meow called upon a Giant Angel that descended from the Heavens. He was bald and tall. His eyes were a beautiful hazel mix of 40% blue, 50% greenish brown, and a few minor colors flaked in the large irises. He looked younger than all of the bears and Peter, but he looked older than Paul the Goat and Hollywood.

(Peter looks like he is 40 even if he is 55. He is a special kind of asshole. What Fountain of Youth does that fucker drink from?)

Colonel Mac blinked as he looked at the Giant Angel and took a bite of his pizza. "Apparently we have entered Heaven. This pizza tastes like Heaven. Excuse me. I have a bear call to make," he spoke before he growled a great bear growl.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing did some vocal exercises before he, too, joined in bear chorus.

Joebear growled in bear chorus before Miss Oreo stole a bite of pizza from him. "OREO, lay down!" he growled at her. Miss Oreo stared at him before she continued to chew.

Paul the Goat bleated before Hollywood neighed loudly.

Peter started to bleat before he looked up at the Giant Angel and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

The Giant Angel spoke, "I am Michael, a man with regrets, angel wings of redemption, and have traveled across many planes of existence. A cat called upon me. What shall she have me do?"

Kissy looked at Miss Oreo. Miss Oreo looked at Kissy. They were confused cats.

Michael spoke again, "I heard a cat that sounded like a wind-up toy."

Kissy looked at him and meowed. "Sorry about that. I was excited about pizza crust. When I eat pizza crust, I'm in heaven. Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome," said Michael. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well, we are having a great swamp party," Kissy said as she meowed.

Pauno, a Greek God with green eyes and black curly-hair and Kendrick, Peter's ex-girlfriend and Pauno's current wife also wandered in the swamp. They also were eating pizza.

Peter sighed his trademark sigh before he spoke, "As if this party isn't awkward enough... my ex shows up with her husband. And here I am in a pink bekini." He looked down and sighed again. "What's the point?"

The swamp bubbled up before Peter's therapist started crawling from the large puddle in the middle of said swamp. She was covered in mud.

Peter smiled and gestured toward her. "Answers my question!"

Joebear then growled a great bear growl before announcing, "That's great, and now excuse me, I need to lick ass."

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing growled loudly. "Yesssss!!! As do I!!! MEGARA!!!!"

"It would put your tongue to good use," Megara said as she put her bear booty in his face.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing then started licking her big bear booty.

"BAE WHUHH!!!!" I shouted and said as I shook my booty and did the backfat dance in front of him. I still was bleeding like a stuffed pig.

Joebear growled before he mauled me and started to lick my ass.

Michael the Great Arc Angel laughed before he spoke to Kissy. "I am not going to lick cat ass if that's what you are implying."

Kissy looked at him in confusion before she meowed again. "No. I definitely did not call you for that. I simply meowed out of enjoying pizza crust," she said.

"So you called me to eat pizza with you?" Michael the Great Arc Angel asked.

Kissy made a series of short mechanical malfunctioning meows before she said, "Yes."

Michael the Great Arc Angel then manifested a slice of pizza and ate it.

Now the only person not eating or being eaten was Peter's therapist. I did not like that woman. She achieved my dreams before I did (I wanted to be a counselor, but I can't be a counselor because it's too much part of the system, and we all know that I can't have that. Point is, Peter's bitch therapist is a sell-out). And she has bigger boobs than I do. Nice DD-rack. She has a shapely butt, too. Not to mention that she is truly a redhead. Oh, and she really really really really really really likes Peter. Bitch.

Peter was smiling at her. Apparently the asshole really really really really really really liked her, too. Asshole. "Thank you for emerging from the swamp. As you can see, from my pink bekini, I'm having some real problems," the curly-haired asshole said as he was failing miserably to suppress laughter.

She looked down at his pink bekini with her green eyes that happened to be the same shade as Peter's and grinned before looking back up at him. "Hmmm. Yes, it seems you are a bit gender-confused today," she said as she ran her hands along his sides to find the strings to his bekini. "Society says that maybe you should be more manly..." She then started untying the strings to his bekini. "Let's start by taking it off."

Those must be his therapy sessions all the time. No wonder he feels better after therapy. What an asshole. This is the same bitch that gave him his silver Toyota Highlander. Or it could be gray. Who cares? I hate that fucking car! Because SHE gave it to him.

"I'm starting to feel more manly already," Peter said as he was eating another piece of pizza.

"ASSHOLE!" Kendrick called out to Peter as she flicked him off.

"He is an asshole. That's why you are married to me, Pauno, the Greek God of parties, wine, and crack cocaine," Pauno said with authority as he ate another slice of pizza.

"That's my line!" I shouted as my butt was being devoured by my bear. "But yes, ASSHOLE!"

Joebear growled loudly as his tongue licked wonders to the inside of my anus. Thank you, Bae Whuhh.

"Ooh hoo Bae!!!!!" I shouted in excitement.

Peter looked at both of us and continued eating his pizza.

"You feel more like a man, huh?" His bitch therapist asked in a seductive tone as she began to stroke his hard cock. She used her other hand to cup his balls before she looked in his eyes. "I remember you like when I do this."

"Oh yeah I do," Peter said with a little moan. "Eating pizza and getting stroked is heaven."

"I'M GLAD I COULD BE HERE FOR THIS MOMENT!!!" Michael the Great Arc Angel shouted with a strong voice.

Colonel Mac let out a bit of suppressed laughter before speaking, "Well, I suppose that's what angels are for. I enjoy eating pizza, but if only I didn't have to get back to work as a nursing home administrator, that would be great! Could you help me find a better job?"

"I sure could. Would you like to work for the government?" Michael the Great Arc Angel asked.

"Anything would be better than working for and in a nursing home!" Colonel Mac said with conviction. He thrust his fist in the air for effect.

"Would you like to work for the DEFACS office?" Michael the Great Arc Angel asked.

"Actually, I want HER job!" Colonel Mac said as he noticed Peter's therapist rubbing his body and leaving kisses all over him.

Michael the Great Arc Angel looked at him in confusion and great disgust.

"Oh Christ! Not on him! On women! I'd like to be government-appointed sex therapist FOR WOMEN! I'm not gay, HOLY SHIT I'm not gay!!!" Colonel Mac said with vigor.

Michael the Great Arc Angel let out a big sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. Yes, I grant thee that job!" he exclaimed with authority.

Colonel Mac then turned into a government-appointed sex therapist. His blonde hair was gelled down, and his beard was more epic than Santa Claus's. He wore a white long-sleeved button-down shirt with khakis pants and suspenders. "Thank you," he said.

Peter looked down at his bitch therapist as he was rubbing her large right tit. The bitch was six feet tall, so she was only a foot and four inches shorter than he was. "Would you like some pizza?"

"Sure," she said as she looked up at him before she ran her mouth along his shaft.

Peter giggled. "I meant actual pizza, but this works, too."

"Asshole!" I shouted as I ate another slice of pizza.

Joebear removed his mouth from my ass and growled. "Now I want tacos!!!!" he shouted. He then thrust his fat bear cock in my vagina.

"Yes Bae Whuhhhh!!! Taco Tuesday!!!!" I shouted. "I'm hungry again."

"I love tacos, but you know what I like more?" Colonel Mac asked.

"What? Macaroni and cheese?" I asked.

"Yes, but you know what I like more than macaroni and cheese?" Colonel Mac asked.

"What?" I asked.

Hollywood weighed randomly before eating swamp ass grass. Paul the Goat bleated as he fed his remaining slice of pizza to a random swamp golem.

"Taco Mac!" Colonel Mac yelled.

"Oh yes! Taco Mac with Colonel Mac!" I shouted.

Joebear, Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing, and Colonel Mac all growled loudly in excitement. The trees in the forest shook from the energy the bears were exerting with their growls. The bears were bears.

Peter's bitch therapist took her mouth off of his cock before saying, "You all have problems. Would you all like to make appointments?"

Peter snorted as he folded his arms across his chest.

Peter's bitch therapist was stroking his cock. "Relax, baby. I need to work. You can't be my only client," she said.

"You can't be my only therapist then," Peter said with a wink.

"Asshole!" Kendrick yelled. "I like tacos. Do you like tacos, Pauno?"

"Love 'em," Pauno said. "I shall make tacos rain from the sky!" He threw lightning bolts in the air. Nothing was happening.

Michael the Great Arc Angel sniffed the air. His nose curled back in disgust. "The swamp sours the meat," he said somberly.

Joebear, Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing, and Colonel Mac growled angrily like cubs. Joebear added a "Goddammit!" to the end of his long series of growls.

Paul the Goat made a series of bleats in disgust. Hollywood charged away with Paul the Goat on his back. Both of them neighed in frustration. The swamp golem hobbled after them.

Pauno growled like angrily like a cub as well because he was looking forward to tacos.

Peter then put his pink bekini back on and said, "And this kind of shit is why I am in therapy!"