#this kid is happier as a hermit in the woods that he ever was in his wealthy home

[streets-in-paradise]

Andy celebrating Junior's birthday while living in the middle of the woods

The sun had been up for a while now, maybe an hour. Andy was never sure about times anymore. All he knew was that he had a red velvet  cupcake in hand, with a candle sticking out from the top, and a gift in the pocket of his flannel. 

All that mattered was that today was September 26th.

Junior’s fifteenth birthday. 

Now, Andy knew he couldn’t do much to celebrate his kid’s birthday. They were living in the middle of the woods and he only went on supply runs once a week. No matter how hard he tried to persuade Junior to go back to “civilization”, he refused. So they both stayed still, feeling content in only each other’s company. 

But just because he couldn’t go all out for Junior’s birthday, doesn’t mean he still wasn’t going to make it special for him. 

Andy quietly went up to Junior’s room, gently knocking on the door with his free hand. “Jun? You awake?” He asked and the only response he got was a groan, signaling that Andy was the one to wake him up. But he still opened the door, entering with a big smile. 

“Happy birthday to you…” He began singing, resulting in Junior groaning louder. 

“Oh my gods…” 

“Happy birthday to you…” Junior put his pillow over his head but when Andy got closer, he snatched the pillow away and tossed it to the side, “Happy birthday, dear Junbug…” 

“That’s not my nam—”

“Happy birthday to you!” Andy sang the last part a little louder and sat down at the edge of Junior’s cot, pulling his lighter out of one of his pockets and lighting the candle on top of the cupcake. 

Junior stared up at him, his hair a wild mess from sleep and eyes tired but an eyebrow raised in annoyance. “It’s so early, Andy, what the hell…?” 

“It’s your birthday, Junior. You can wake up early on one day, you sleep in all the time.” 

“Yeah, it’s my birthday, I’m not supposed to wake up early on my birthday. And you wake me up early too when we go hunt.” The birthday boy whined, dropping his head back down to where his pillow used to be. 

“You enjoy hunting, so don’t give me that.” Andy chuckled before gently shaking Junior’s shoulders. “C’mon, Junbug. You gotta make a wish.” 

Junior’s eyebrow raised higher. “I’m fourteen, Andy, not four. I don’t need to make a wish.” 

“Fifteen,” The man corrected, “you’re fifteen today, Junior.” 

“Whatever…” Junior rolled his eyes before rolling over onto his back and slowly sitting up, “I’m still one year closer to reaching Death’s inevitable cold, clammy hands.”

“Jesus, kid…” Andy wanted to retort that he wasn’t this morbid at fifteen but even he knew that was a lie, “just…just blow out the candle. Come on, do this for your old man.” 

This got a giggle out of Junior for Andy “accepting” that he was old, closing his eyes for a few seconds and then blowing out the candle. 

Andy pulled out the candle and then handed the cupcake to the kid. “Here, breakfast.”

Junior’s eyes widened. “Sugar for breakfast?” His voice was small when he asked this and it made the grown man’s heart clench. 

Now, Andy didn’t condone murder…but if Logan Wheeler ever came back to life, he would treat him the same way he treated that decapitated Chucky head that he kept for four years, but keep Logan alive even longer. 

“Yes, kid. It’s your birthday, you can have a cupcake for breakfast. I’ll even make you pancakes too if you’re still hungry.” Andy said with a soft smile, pushing down his poisonous thoughts about Logan, and ruffles Junior’s hair. 

The teenager rolled his eyes again and lightheartedly smacked Andy’s hand away before taking the cupcake from him and taking a bite, humming in delight. “Thank you, Andy.” He said with a small smile, now not seeming to mind being woken up this early. 

“Well, don’t thank me just yet…” Andy started before pulling out Junior’s present from his pocket and handing it to him. 

Junior’s eyes lit up from realization and he quickly grabbed it while holding onto the cupcake with his other hand. “Is this…?” 

“Your very own switchblade!” Andy proudly announced and Junior began grinning. “You always talked about how cool switchblades were so I figured that’d be a nice gift. But I still want you to be careful with it, okay?” 

“Yeah, I will.” Junior giggled as he switched it open, his eyes lighting up more at the sight of the blade to the point where it was almost concerning to Andy. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” 

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He ruffled Junior’s hair again but this time, the teenager let him. “Oh! I almost forgot…there’s still two Chuckys alive for you to play with.” 

“Can I use the blowtorch?” Junior asked, a maniacal look in his eyes. 

Maybe Andy shouldn’t have introduced the concept of fire being a main torture method for Chucky, the kid was getting far too fascinated with fire. 

He accidentally created a pyromaniac. 

“…okay, but you need to be—”

“—be careful, I know,” Junior interrupted with a little smirk, “Gods, you’re such a mother hen!” 

“I am not!” Andy denied but even he knew that it was getting a lot harder to deny that, so he decided to change the subject. “Just finish up the first part of your breakfast and we can keep celebrating, alright?” 

Junior giggled but nodded, taking another bite out of his cupcake and then resting his cheek against the man’s shoulder. “Thanks, Andy…” 

Andy smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of Junior’s head. “No problem…happy birthday, Junbug.” 

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET 💕💕💕💕

This becomes even more significant considering Andy hates birthdays. Like, he may hate his but he tried his best to give the boy a good one.

I love how cute the use of the nickname Junbug sounds, its adorable. The father and son energy this has despite neither of the characters acknowledges it's perfect.

They are so fucked up yet so adorable, little murderous thing and the dad he found in the wild having fun slaughtering all those dolls hehe

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Maybe you’re not the worst thing ever

A new story based on this song->https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLYiyK7uqUE

So enjoy! It is based on the two's first meetings-ish. So they're all still getting to know each other.

You're frigid and demanding I shudder at your call

"Victor, move your ass! The wood isn't hauling itself."

"I am hauling ass and hauling the wood unlike you." Victor yelled back at the brunette shrew who roughly pushed past him with her much lighter load of cooking supplies and weapon belts. 

Ash ignored his words, the usual coming from her, and Victor grumbled to himself seeing a knife slip out from her pile. The wood dug into his neck, splinters digging into his sweaty skin as the hot burned down despite the shade of the trees. 

"You heard the woman, haul ass." One-eyed Sousa cackled, making a whipping motion as he walked past, carrying nothing. Dios, he hated that guy. He thought he was all that because he faced down the Captain of the Norburg Guard and lost his eye as a result. The eyepatch being a point of pride and a mark of being one of the toughest criminals in the Everrealm. 

If he didn't have this wood, he'd show Sousa a thing or two about his right hook. Make him No-eyed Sousa. As Victor thought his bitter thoughts, his boot got caught in a root. He struggled to keep his balance, managing to stay upright despite dropping a few pieces. He left them there. They were in the damn woods, there was firewood everywhere. 

As he stared ahead at Ash and Sousa before him, he knew he really wouldn't try to pick a fight with Sousa. There was a reason he was lagging behind with the woodpile with the likes of Justino, Mario and Luis. Together, they were a fearsome gang, but they weren't top dogs. Not like those two. They made the plans, stole the most money, more willing to stay and fight. They’d kill if needed. Victor bent down to pick up the knife, jogging a little so he could reach the cave that they were going to shelter in faster and dump the wood as well as give the knife back to Ash. 

It wasn't a gesture of nicety. She just needed to know that she wasn't so perfect. If not for the fact that she had a lot more knives she could throw back at him, he would have shown his knife throwing skills. Aim it at the tree she was leaning against, impatiently waiting for the rest of them to catch up. As if glaring at them would make them come faster.

He reached her side, touching her shoulder to grab her attention.

She slapped his hand away, a knife aimed at his throat, "Don't touch my body!" "I wanted giving you this." Victor responded, pointing a knife at her throat in turn. "Hmmph" She snorted, grabbing the knife, still looking at him suspiciously.

Victor rolled his eyes. She was always snippy with him whenever he came too close. As if he was going to try anything with her. He didn't like her that way. Sure, he may have had a few dreams about her and stared at her too long a moment but he was only human. He glanced back at her turned away from him. Hip jutted out as she ordered the other men about. 

She turned to the side, her silhouette perfectly reflected from the sun shining behind her. All those curves hugged in all the right places by her tight pants and corseted vest. All for practical purposes. She didn't need any loose fabrics getting caught in thorns. He loved that practicality. 

But that was where the attraction stopped. She yelled so much. Looked down at him for some reason. Which was a lie. He knew when she lost her respect. It was during the Cariza heist. As he ran out of the side entrances, bags stuffed with doubloons and precious artifacts, he bumped into a little orphan girl. 

He knocked over, and like a rookie, he stopped to help her up. It was a mistake, but it was just instinct. She had such big violet eyes and was so small. She was a kid. It had been a close call but he got away, the guards had no chance of getting on his heels once he wheeled into the labyrinth of side streets. 

But that little orphan girl. She had been a pickpocket. She cut a hole in one of his bags and he had left a trail of coins leading to them. They had to the bags there and make a run for it.

Ever since then Ash gave off the air that she thought him as a bumbling fool and he wouldn't stand for that. He had already been treated like a clown by the people in the palace growing up. Yelled at by Shuriki when she exiled him, his so called best friend doing nothing to help. Being called a disgrace as his parents kicked him out of their family once they learned of his part in the Shuriki plot. Yelled at guards for pickpocketing and thievery to survive. 

No, he didn't need that. Someday he'd get the respect he deserved by reaching the top. The top of what He didn't know. But he needed power for that. 

He looked at Ash again. If he was held at knife-point with no chance to escape, another thing he would admit was that he admired Ash for more than her looks. He admired her ambition. She didn't take crap from anybody. No one dared to disrespect her. She had presence, she had confidence in herself as she should because her mind was cunning. He liked how unlike Sousa or even Shuriki, she didn't make others do the work for her, she controlled the operation. She did the research, she found the entrances and exits, she took charge. 

She annoyed him with how she disregarded his abilities or use, yet when she talked of her plans for a new heist, he felt swept away by her. 

With her, he felt like nothing was impossible, they could achieve anything together. If only she realized that he was talented in his own right. 

Unlike the other men, he had come from nobility, son of the treasurer, he knew how to act among the upper class so as to infiltrate parties. He could charm the men and ladies, disarm them with only his words. 

His quick hands were not clumsy as the others. They may have teased him that with his pampered upbringing that he had soft hands, but he also had soft hands so as to steal people's pockets clean.  Yes, if anything she should be sticking by him instead of Sousa. 

In a platonic criminal partners sense. Not that it would matter much. He'd eventually screw her over so he could be on top. “Victor! Get the fire started!" Ash's voice cut through his reverie. Then again, maybe he was better off alone. 

Whenever you come near me My flesh begins to crawl  

Ash walked around the perimeter of the cave, the moon full in the air highlighted how desultory the woods were. 

Only owls and crickets chirped in the biting night. She looked back at the cave, the dying embers barely lit their faces but it was enough that she could see the men were fast asleep. As if their snores weren't enough indication. 

She sniffed the night air and started to walk into the darkness. She closed her eyes, knowing it was better to rely on her sense of smell to find the lake she had noticed as they walked through this area than be distracted by her sight. Yes, she smelled the fresh odor of natural water just ahead of her, then felt something brush against her shoulder. 

She paused, eyes flying open. Her eyes adjusted to the dark to find nothing. She slowly touched her shoulder and found a stray leaf. Ash growled at herself for her stupid cautiousness. 

She'd been alone ever since she was a child. Ever since Zopilote destroyed her village, she had relied on herself. She faced thieves, guards, animals and more. She feared nothing. But she knew that wasn't why she jumped at the leaf. 

It had felt like a man. 

It had felt gentle, like when Victor touched her shoulder to hand back the knife she dropped. 

She wasn't used to a gentle touch. 

It just...she didn't even remember the last time she hadn't felt someone touching her softly. 

She was more acquainted with tackles, punches, shoves and others among the like from living with criminals and running from the guard who didn't care about her gender when it came to roughing her up. 

Ash shook her head trying to banish any thoughts of gentleness from her head but Victor popped up again. Gentle. It was so like him.  

In the middle of a damn heist, he helped a child after knocking her over, and look what happened, he got nicked by a tiny brat and they lost all the loot they had worked so hard to steal. 

He was too soft. She saw the look in his eyes when he railed against his family and some friend named Esteban. Oh the anger and malice were there, but she also saw fondness when talked of happier memories. He wasn't hardened like the other criminals. He had had love in his life. He was more likely to show love to others too. 

He was a weak link and he'd bring down them all someday.

And yet there was something about that was intriguing to her. For a moment, when he touched her, she almost had wanted to lean into him. 

Not that she'd ever try again to find out. 

She had a mission to focus on. Even though this mission had been taking 27 years with nothing to show for it. It was exhausting and dejecting. She wanted a break. 

No, she couldn't go there. That was weak. She couldn't allow herself to take a break, she had to focus. She had discarded almost everything of her past, her old name-Azula, her innocence, everything that would bring back those painful distracting memories.  The memories themselves were harder to lose, but she was dedicated. She could force herself to ignore them through sheer will. 

She reached the edge of the lake and pulled out the tamborita she had stolen from a hermit wizard years ago.

She inhaled deeply and began to practice the spells she had memorized before Sousa carelessly burned up her book for fire two months ago. 

The magic thrummed through her veins, a raw burning rose in her throat. She felt her body ache and boiled as if lava was flowing through her, electric sparks, flying from her the tamborita. 

She looked at the water despite the watery tears from the power. Water helped, she could imagine she wasn't as fired up as she felt. 

But the magic was too much. It hurt too much. She couldn't concentrate enough to get the pain within her to concentrate itself into a blasting spell. 

She wobbled, falling into the water, gasping and cursing her weakness. She needed to do better if she was going to find Zopilote and convince him to teach her. If she could even find Zopilote. No, she'd get to that later. 

Now she had to focus on her own paltry abilities. She was pathetic. 

“Hey, is someone here?" An unfamiliar voice called and several light blue uniformed guards come out of the pine trees. 

The Norburg Guard! 

Ash dived under the water, holding her breath as long as she could, unhearing of what was going on above. 

But her lungs burned almost as much as the magic had, and she couldn't take it.

The need for oxygen pounded her chest and she rose up.  But sometimes, there are moments I'm not repelled at all Maybe you're not the worst thing ever  

Victor was not stalking. He had merely noticed that Ash who was supposed to be watching them had wandered off. That was never a good sign. 

It allowed them to be open to ambush by whatever was out there in the wild if a guard wasn't there to sound the alarm. 

Alternatively, she was hoping for exactly that to happen so she could be rid of all of them. Either way, he wasn't going to be suckered into that sort of trap so he followed her to see what she was up to. 

He had almost been caught, when she had paused suddenly he banged into a tree. But he kept his cool. He had been so confused when they ended up by the lake. She wanted a bath? 

Unfortunately, she did not strip off her clothes as he had been somewhat hoping for, instead she pulled out some strange wand object and began waving it around, muttering an indecipherable language.

It hit him where he had seen such a familiar image. Back at the palace when he was a boy, he had seen the royal wizard Alacazar perform spells for their amusement. It had taken, he, Elena and Esteban a lot of begging since King Raul and Alacazar had told them that Alacazar was busy doing spells for the protection of the good and couldn't be on call like a jester but sometimes that managed to persuade him. 

Ash was nowhere near Alacazar's level. Though there were few sparks flying, the brunette ended up diving into the lake before anything substantial came blasting out of the tamborita. 

Victor was at odds with what he should do. On one hand, it was clear that she didn't know what she was doing while he had some information that could help.

On the other hand, Ash was practicing magic which he was pretty sure the rest of the gang didn't know about. Especially Sousa. He would not look kindly to the threat of someone being more powerful than him. Maybe he could let it slip and become Sousa's right hand man, close enough to overthrow him when the time came. 

But then again, Ash had magic. He knew magic was a much easier way to get power than through fists. Shuriki had taken over Avalor in less than a day with a swirl of green clouds and a llevlqu spell. She controlled armies and controlled people like his cowardly ex friend, Esteban. 

If Victor had someone with magic by his side. If Victor had magic... He had never considered it before, he knew only the most learned men and women could become wizards after years and years of practice because they had access to the books and the chispas. 

But if Ash was somehow practicing in the middle of nowhere and on the run, maybe Ash could teach him as well? 

“Hey! Is anyone there?" A squadron of guards burst through the trees, killing the quiet of the forest with snapping branches and hacking away at bushes. 

Victor could see Ash had gone underwater but he knew she wouldn't last long. She'd have to come up for air sometime and the guards were closing in to examine the lake. The moment they saw her face, they'd know who she was. Wanted posters of her face were in twelve kingdoms. 

There were Wanted posters of his face too, less prominent than the others but maybe that would be enough to get their attention. 

"Over here, suckers! You don't even deserve your swords if you can't catch me!" Victor called out, waving his hand mockingly before running. He didn't dare look back, that was the best way to get distracted and fall, he just stared ahead, branches whipping face, needles stinging his eyes, but he didn't let up. His lungs ached but his legs never stumbled. 

He ran on instinct heading straight for the cave. He trampled hands and fingers as he ran into their hiding spot, raising anger and alarm in the den of thieves but he gave no warning of who he was running from. 

He headed to the back where a small crevice had been formed and shielded over by a plaster of rock. Thin enough to remove if needed but looked as solid as stone. He dove in, frantically digging himself into the cramped space before putting the plaster in front, cutting off any source of light. 

He heard the yells, the clashing metal of sword against daggers, the sound of skin cut and groans of wounded. He heard the curses aimed at the guard, at Ash, at him. He heard the sound of rhythmic soldier boots, pacing through the cave, methodically searching for any hiding places where he could have gone. Then he heard silence. 

His muscles popped and cracked as he untwisted himself from the tight space, thankful that his fear of getting caught overcame any remnant of his claustrophobia. 

He slumped against the cave walls, allowing himself to breath again and become reacquainted with his limbs. 

He began to berate himself for his foolish chase now that he had time to think about it. 

Was he crazy? Now that Ash and he were a gang of two, easier to run from the police, but less protection if they were surrounded. Neither of them were the best fighters when it came to hand to hand combat. And he was only assuming that Ash would stick around with him. Díos he had been so damn stupid, idotic. 

No wonder she thought of him as a fool. What kind of criminal rescues his partners? Why did he—

His thoughts were interrupted by the presence of another in the cave. Ash. 

Just like in the sunlight, her face was hidden in the shadows but the moon high in the sky behind her, framed her body beautifully like a nocturnal fairy creature, the water that clung to her body glistened. It made her look gorgeous, magical, unreal. 

But her blue eyes, the same color as ice pinned his green orbs to her, making him very aware that she was real and starting to come a lot closer into his personal space. 

She was searching his face for something, he couldn't imagine what? Was she trying to find some sort of mark to prove he was the idiot she imagined she was. If so, this ungrateful wannabe witch should know he wouldn't take such disrespect without a snark. 

"The common courtesy of when a person saves your life is to say thank you." Victor said, eyes firmly squinted into a glare. Ash's eyes stopped searching his face, and looked into his, "Why did you do it?"  "That's not a thank you." 

Ash glared. 

“I want to learn magic and become a wizard." Victor said, making it more of a command, leaving no doubt that he'd badger her if she turned him down. 

Ash's eyes grew wide and Victor grinned. Haha yes. He, the common thief, the fallen noble had stalked her to her "secret" magic practice without her even realizing it. 

She looked away with a huff. They stood side by side staring out of the mouth of the cave for longer than a few seconds that made Vicor uncomfortable. Was she going to say anything? Should he just chance it and leave? 

"I'm not a wizard." Ash said quietly, "I'm training to be a malvago." Victor tensed, trying to still a shudder than ran down his back. He had heard of stories of malvagos, the twisted wizards who only worked for themselves using dark corrupted magic. 

But another part of the shiver was not just apprehension of the dangerous magic that the woman beside him was toying with but intrigue. She was right.

Malvagos were evil to the wizards' good, and he knew he was cast out of the good 19 long years ago. Malvagos didn't live by any rules, malvagos could do whatever they wanted. Just what Victor wanted.

“I want to be a malvago." Victor corrected. Victor could see the side view of Ash's face with her disdainful scowl, "It takes dedication." "Which you don't have enough of because you failed." Victor needled. 

Ash smacked his torso with her tamborita, hitting a particularly sore spot he had strained from wood-carrying. 

"It is painful." She snapped. 

"I can handle pain." Victor shot back. “You're a pampered royal." 

"I've been a thief for 19 years. I've lost my softness." "The pickpocket girl." Ash pointed out.  

Victor cringed thinking of his blunder, but managed to twist the situation. 

"Better yet for infiltrating the nobles. I know how to act, how to talk. I'll blend in which is more than I could say for you. Plus I know several languages, how to find secret passageways in mansions and I cook." Ash raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “You cook?”   You're utterly disgusting I loathe your manly stink 

Doña’s lips curled into a sneer as Chancellor Esteban struggled to enter the carriage and close his umbrella at the same time without getting wet. 

He failed in both respects, the umbrella getting caught in the doorway allowing the wind and rain blown in more, splattering them both with its icy sting. 

Dona wrapped the shawl tighter around herself and looked out the window at the turbulent darkness and trees swaying unsteadily in the storm. Of all days to go to Córdoba for trade talks. 

However, business waited for no one and it wasn't like they were attempting to travel overseas in this weather. It was just going to be several bumpy, uncomfortable hours in a carriage with a man who was awkwardly moving around in the tiny carriage area and getting water all over her. 

With the limited room, Esteban threw the umbrella onto the floor and took off his jacket, shaking his arm out of its sleeve, water droplets flying everywhere with no regard to the fact that she was in the carriage too. 

This was so like him. So oblivious and self-absorbed. 

She had made no secret of how incompetent she found him in financial matters and that she'd much rather work alone despite their last few collaborations working for the better. 

But at least she was respectful enough to limit their conversation to business matters and ignore him in all other areas of life. At least she didn't jostle and bump into him as if she didn't notice his presence. 

Esteban managed to wrangle off his soaked jacket and sank into his seat with an audible huff of annoyance. He raked his hands over his bangs that were also sopping wet and dripping unattractively onto the upholstery and down his face.

The carriage began it's uneven ride, the abrupt start causing her to smack her head against the window she was leaning against. 

Her head pounded in time with the rumble of looming thunder and it matched her mood. She had been feeling at the most neutral about this upcoming event, figuring that she'd be more enthusiastic once she was in a room with a blazing fire and with merchants that she could actually talk to instead of this stuffy chancellor who seemed to move in perpetually state of panic or resigned dutifulness to the queen. 

But now, everything irritated her. Her head with a throbbing bump. Her hair felt strained against her scalp with bobby-pins. The rain was incessantly pounding like a hundred pebbles against the carriage that no amount of covering her ears would muffle the sound. The enclosed quarters where she couldn't move without entangling her legs with his. His overpowering, overused amount of woodsy cologne permeated the air, canceling out the much more pleasant smell of her jasmine perfume. 

And she was so unnecessarily wet thanks to Esteban.

Another splash of water dampened the edge of her gown as the umbrella Esteban carelessly dropped rolled around the floor. It was no matter, her dress was black and no one would notice, but she hated the feel of the soggy silk against her ankle. 

She felt the random streams of rain that still ran down her hair and neck and wiped it in disgust as some trickled it down her back before she could rub it dry. She closed her eyes, trying her best to keep calm at the less than pleasant feeling. 

There was no use reminding this annoying man to think of other people beside him, he'd only forget. 

She inhaled but all she smelled was the awful cologne filling her nose. It's wooden tang combined with the wet rain burned her nose, the sound of constant rain became more acute as the thunder grumbled louder. 

Sudden and unwelcome like the spontaneous outpour above, she remembered another time she'd been wet, and miserable, in much worse circumstances than this. She hated these flashback, memories she should be over with by now, it’s been 9 years, but she still could feel it as if it was yesterday. 

The thunder changed to the rumbling crash of flooding waters going over her, silencing all other sounds, numbing her body with its frigid temperatures as the waves dragged her down. 

Water, water everywhere. Water pushing and bowling her over, her eyes blinded by the sting.  

The water reaching down her throat, grabbing the screams and oxygen. Esteban ran his fingers through his hair once more and shook his head, the water hitting her in the face. 

That was it!  I see your mouth start moving And God, I need a drink  

And then, from out of nowhere, I'll look at you and think Maybe you're not the worst thing ever "Do you have to shake yourself like a dog? Who raised you?" Esteban’s carriage companion snapped. 

Lightning flashed at the moment, sending jagged shadows across her face, highlighting her furious green eyes sparking with barely concealed ire at him.

It's been one minute in the carriage and he wanted a drink. He knew he should have brought the two bottles of wine. One as a thanks to King Juan for hosting and one for himself to get through this. 

Honestly, she was being over dramatic over a few drops of rain. He was the one who had gotten soaked to the skin. He could feel his shirt clinging him to uncomfortably and hated the dark grey look of his once white pants. He was the one who had the right to be irritated. 

And who was she to ask who raised him? She was the one who constantly made jabs about how his royal upbringing made him lazy and ignorant of financial matters even though he had been doing very well in conducting and organizing the foundations of Avalor trade for the past 29 years. 

He practically invented the jargon. That was all him. No, he wasn't going to respond. Any conversation with her was going to be a headache. He had papers to study for the upcoming meeting.  

Esteban's teeth grinded together as he casually smoothed down his pants and went on to open his leather-bound ledger where he held his files for the event so he could begin to read them over. 

He quickly became absorbed in his work, crossing out lines and rewording paragraphs so demands would be more palatable even though Shuriki was asking for more jewels and materials than Avalor would be able to return.

However, Shuriki's demands must always be sated. 

Esteban felt a migraine come on as he thought about the last time he came up short from the trade deals. Shuriki had railed and yelled at him, not too bad considering they both knew she couldn't do worse or else lose the only one willing and competent enough to do the kingdom's paperwork so she could look at herself in the mirror all day. They both knew she could not execute him.

That didn't mean she'd wouldn't toss the painting of his abuelos and Isabel into the sea. Or tear it apart. 

Or a dozen other types of destruction she could imagine up and describe in detail with that cruel, knowing smirk on her face. 

Just thinking about it brought the pressure of guilt against his heart. His family in stasis, unknowing of his secret, of the pain Shuriki had brought to their beloved kingdom. 

Perhaps it was merciful but he hated to imagine that stasis. Happily staring at him through the pastel paint, shriveling up in flames and ending in the Spirit World. 

All because he had brought Shuriki to Avalor in a misguided attempt to gain power and defeat her. All because he hadn't worked hard enough to protect them. All because of him.

This had to go well or else she'd-"Will you stop that?" Doña’s voice hissed, cutting through his thoughts like a sharp teakettle. 

"What now?" Esteban snapped with an audible defensive edge from the thoughts that still consumed him. 

"Stop reading under your breath, I'm trying to sleep." she said. 

“I'm preparing for our meeting. Something more important than your beauty sleep." 

"It's called time management. I sleep at night, and rise with the sun so I finish all my work by mid-morning. It's something you should do instead of constantly scrambling around between your siestas." She put an sarcastic emphasis on siestas. 

Esteban bristled. She had no idea how hard she worked. No one did. 

She may think he was lazy but he needed those siestas because he couldn't sleep. Not when the silent night allowed his noisy thoughts run wild, usually to memories of a far-off happier past that he had no idea how much he'd treasure.  

So he moved on to less personal subjects than his sleep schedule. "The kingdom's future economic collaboration with Cordoba is at stake here." 

"Avalor's future collaboration with Cordoba will be fine. Don't act like it's so dire when it's Shuriki's favor you're so worried about." Esteban reeled back like a gut punch at how close to home that comment was. 

How he hated the truth that he was breaking his back to make this witch, this murderer happy and comfortable on her crystal throne and help her oppress the kingdom he had loved.  

And that this ice queen had also guessed the ulterior behind most of his actions. He wasn't going to tolerate it. She may be young and may not like be other wannabe lackeys who only wanted to smooze up to Shuriki and increase their own power. Or those council members that truly wanted to help but were to naive to last. She was competent, a deadly combination of useful, practical with ways to help the kingdom but not easily manipulatable. He could appreciate that in a co-worker, especially since she did make his work go faster since their collaboration. However....

He didn't want another person who could needle him and remind him of his misery. 

Worse than crabs

Worse than scurvy 

The morning sun rose and for once in her life, Ash was staying by a man who she was pretty convinced was her inferior in every way. 

A man who hummed under his breath as he cooked, who smiled at his little successes in pickpocketing, proclaiming he was a "Victor,"  who helped people up when he knocked them down, who saved her when he had no reason to. A true criminal would never do that. 

Yet when she had broke the surface of the water and saw Victor coaxing the guards to chase him, something..something giddy and strange entered her heart. 

No one had ever saved her before.

It just wasn't done. Criminals betrayed one another, they delighted in it, showing off their lack of loyalty and selfishness. 

Ash would never have done such a thing as risk her neck for someone else nor would she have wanted anyone to do the same. She could handle herself just fine. But Victor wasn't like that.

She was grateful that he saved her. She had never felt something like that when she realized what he had did. The feeling of relief, thankfulness, the feeling of safety. 

She hadn't felt that in a long time, and what's more was that she liked it.  What was worse was that she wanted more of it. 

It was like a break from the harshness of life.

“No," she reminded herself, "I don't need a break from the harsh world. I thrive in the harshness." Not that she wanted to be rescued. She wasn't going to be stupid enough to put herself in danger for no reason when she could handle situations herself. 

But he was cooking breakfast just for her. 

Something else no one had done for her and it was bringing the same happy thankful feelings she was trying to squish down.   It was so pathetic. 

So she busied herself with drying off her tamborita by the fire, forcing herself not to look at him cooking even though her eyes had a strange newly powerful pull to see what he was doing. 

She didn't look up when he handed her the food so he set it on the ground beside her. Only once he had gone to the other side of the fire to eat his breakfast did she pretend to have just noticed it. 

She hoped he didn't think she was trying too hard to ignore him. Then again, he couldn't guess that she was intentionally ignoring him. It's what she did on a regular basis. 

He knew better than to imagine her being soft to him, she was out of his league.

She ate the stew, surprised by how flavorful and rich it tasted. He really could cook! They should have put him on dinner duty more often, this was delicious.  She must have been looking too satisfied because she saw from the corner of her eye that Victor was smiling that foolish boyish smile that made him look younger than he was. 

Reminded her that he was untrained as a criminal, a rookie despite his 31 years on the street if he was making such stupid mistakes as helping someone when they fell. 

So Ash reluctantly set down the stew without finishing it and began to hunt around the area for weapons that guards may have dropped when hauling Sousa, Luis, and Justin away. 

Victor ambled up behind her, scouring the ground and talking, "So when did you begin learning magic? Why? I mean you're pretty tough on your own with a knife." 

Must he insist on filling the silence with conversation? Especially with that questions. Why did he want to know about her life, the whys and whens? They were criminals together. They did not need to know about their personal lives.

But she could sense Victor waiting for her to reply or else he'd just ask the question again. He didn't know, but it was just too personal.

Close her eyes and she could go back to that fateful day as vividly as if it happened yesterday. The screams of people losing their homes, their belongings, their lives. The crash of buildings. 

The crunch of her beloved mice's bones so similar to the squishing sound of her parents being vaporized. 

Ash shook her head, she never dwelled on that latter thought too long. It made her too emotional. If she allowed herself to think about it, she'd freeze, stuck in that awful memory just as she had been too helpless to do anything when she saw it happen.  She saw the buzzard's crooked nose, his dark wings flaring out and those vicious yellow eyes as he gleefully cackled at all the destruction. Zopilote, the malvago who ruined her world and her worst enemy. He was the reason she was trying to learn magic. 

So she could get close to him, ask him to let her be his protege. Surely, he wouldn't remember that helpless little girl. 

That way, once he taught her all his tricks and spells, she'd use them against him, and burn his feathers to the dust. Then she could go on to take over the kingdom if she chose to. 

She'd be the one and only. No one would dare to hurt her. They'd all fear her power. 

But to say that outloud. She could never. A personal vendetta. To save herself from helplessness. Her reasons were weak, emotional. Almost as soft as him. 

"I began to learn magic a few years ago when I stole a wizard's tamborita as for why... isn't it obvious? Power." Ash raised herself to her full stature which unfortunately was just a little shorter by the forehead since her heels broke and she had to make do with sturdy boots, "Power is all that matters if you want to make it the world."

Victor nodded knowingly at her statement, "Power is everything. I understand the feeling completely." 

She doubted that he experienced the same sort of pain she had suffered but she remembered.

Criminals didn't share pasts, too personal, too weak, but Victor tended to rail about his past. How his parents abandoned him when they found out his part in a coup d'etat. Exiled from his home. How he lost his entire world. He knew how she felt. 

Worse than lice or plague But truth be told You're growing on me just like mold  

And though, you're so annoying  

"Yes, I'm working for Shuriki's whims but it's the only way to get anything done." Esteban yelled, surprising both of them with his volume and by the rawness in his voice, the crack in it when he said the last word.  

He inhaled, but his voice still held a waver from the emotions tumbling forth from his words, "I-I don't want to. I don't like to work to make her happy. But I have to. I'm the only one in the kingdom who has the ability to help form the laws and legislate among a dozen other things that you don't know about.” 

“The laws that required cities to open homeless shelters and soup kitchens, the repeal of the whistling act punishing anyone who dared to "disturb the peace" by whistling, the creation of new cement roads to lower villages, that's all me. The only way I could do that was by suggesting these acts when she was in a happy mood.  It's a bargain. She's willing to "throw me a bone" if she has her silver mines and noblins. As long as I seem loyal and useful." Esteban raised his head, forcing eye contact with the woman across from him who looked frozen with shock.  Esteban slumped back, tiredness overtaking him as his emotions ebbed. He was so so exhausted. I tired of having to deal with this disdainful co-worker. So like all the others who sneered at him and dismissed his contributions. They would never know, no one would ever know all the work he did. It was what he deserved. He brought this upon himself. The tiredness. Emptiness. Faking civility to that evil witch who killed the people he loved. The was also an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. He was stuck here. He couldn’t just quit her job. He had nothing to go back too. He was alone in this crowd of nobles who either sucked up to him or derided his work for the queen. And what was worse, was that all this work was so small in the grand scheme of things. Everything was worthless.

His breath caught and he clamped his mouth shut. Steeling himself against the choked sobs in his throat. He couldn’t show more weakness. He would not. He already knew the mistake of being vulnerable in front of someone who seemed harmless.  Besides he still had his work to do. As long as he was alive, he would try to lessen the cruelty of Shuriki’s rule. The Avaloran citizens wouldn’t suffer more than they had to because of his mistake. 

“I may work for Shuriki. But I'm trying to make Avalor better for the people too."

 So easy to despise

Doña knew her mouth was moving but she couldn't make anything come out of it. She didn't know what to say really as she processed everything that Esteban said. 

Doña settled for curtling nodding her acknowledgment and turning to stare out the window. She could settle some of her thoughts better without his dark eyes boring into her, daring her to contradict him. 

All her ideas of Esteban were wrong. She had known Esteban worked for Shuriki. He was Chancellor, Shuriki was queen, it was obvious. 

She thought he had done it somewhat willingly as a way to continue his luxurious lifestyle as well as it being his duty as a royal from the former royal family, continuing the family legacy. A way to act like he knew everything when he knew nothing. 

She had thought he'd done it for duty and money, with no care to the lower class people he supposedly served. But he did care. 

She could hear it in his voice that the people of Avalor mattered to him. That Shuriki was his cross to bear if he could lighten their life with cement roads and the permission to whistle in the street. 

She also felt stupid. Who did she think created the laws? 

Everyone knew Shuriki didn't work, preferring to stay inside doing secretive Shuriki things and only coming out for formal parades in her honor, cheering required. It all had been Esteban. 

Under his arrogant, condescending, regularly irritated demeanor, his concern for appearances and royal protocol, he cared. 

She cringed thinking of all the snide comments she had made, all the opportunities she used to remind him that she thought him incompetent and she had no respect for him or the work that she had thought he didn't do.  

A guilty coil formed in her stomach she hated apologizing, especially when she knew her words meant nothing to him. "I didn't know." She mumbled in direction to the window, hoping that maybe her words would get caught in the noisy rattle of wheels over rutted stones. "Obviously." Esteban said disdainfully. 

"I-I..." Doña stuttered, frustrated by how she had no words to say. Well nothing she could say out loud. She couldn't tell him that she had been so prejudiced against him because she had never met a rich person who actually did his own work. She never met a noble who actually cared about poor people, they only believed the poor were lazy and deserved their station in life. 

But she couldn't say that. He already thought she was stupid enough compared to him, he didn't need the added fuel of lack of credentials and education that came with being a peasant.

So she settled for half-truths, "I've been told I'm judgmental- I thought that you were just a lapdog for Shuriki and I was the only one carrying all the work You do much more than I realized, so.. sorry I guess." 

She chanced to look back at the Chancellor who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. It was pleased, and questioning, and suspicious all at once making her squirm uncomfortably. She already apologized, what more did he want. 

"Thank you," he said slowly, "It's good we have an understanding." 

Doña began to relax, when Esteban added, "I'm glad you care about the citizens of Avalor too." Doña opened her mouth, ready to argue the point. No, she didn't care about ordinary people too much. Her business took priority. 

She found the people in the city to be whiny, what did they have to complain about? They had their shops and restaurants, they should be learning to pull themselves up with their own money than come to complain to her about the roads and restoring crumbled sidewalks. If people in the mountains could survive for years without the amenities like cement roads and street lamps while working on the fields of others, these independent business owners could too. She only fought for their rights because of electability. 

Yes, that's right, she did it for electability. To admit anything more, people would get suspicious. 

Why did she, who claimed to have been born of a rich merchant family from Nueva Vista, care about the likes of farmers and villagers in the hills? 

Not unless she understood their poverty, was a former peasant. 

But Esteban was different. He wouldn't suspect she had closer ties with the poor. He'd assume she was just as caring like he was.  At that came another realization. Esteban cared about the citizens more than she. It was an unfortunate epiphany. She had liked the idea that she was a better person than him. 

Not that she would admit she thought he was a better person than her. 

In fact, it might make things easier between them with this... what was the world he used? It'd give them an understanding. 

“Yes. Sort of. You know."  Well that was eloquent. This was exactly why people called her silver-tongued. 

Esteban just nodded at her, a slight smile peeking from his mustache as he went back to reading his papers. Doña turned back to the window, the rain had faded to a gentle cascade down the window lulling her to sleep.  And though, there's something scary Behind your cold, dead eyes

Ash was smiling at him. It was weird. Very weird. 

It was so genuine and almost fond and...Victor couldn't help but return it too.

Though the look in her eyes still unnerved him with how intense the icy blues were. But the smile...she looked almost sweet. 

And it dropped just as quickly as it came and she started ordering him around. Again. 

Victor rolled his eyes. He should have known better. 

She would never look at him as an equal. It was best to think of her as a platonic criminal partner. 

Ash began to walk away, her hips swaying. Fine. He would only think of her as a sexual being with no real emotions whatsoever. 

Not that he'd ever make a move. She’d probably add easily seduced on top of emotional weak and leave him. 

Something he could never admit was that he couldn't bear the thought of doing the criminal life alone. 

When he had first been cast out, he had wandered the streets in a daze, unsure of how to survive by himself without money. 

He had pieced his way of surviving through minor pickpocketing tricks and sleight of hand on street corners, impressing tourists and citizens before attempting bigger thefts. But he had been alone. 

The isolation felt like a physical presence even though he was alone in the crowd. 

No one to confide with, no one to even talk to. He could go days on end in silence. Or only talking to himself. But he felt he might go mad from the loneliness. 

Then he met up with a gang of small-time thieves. He had dumped them, transferring in and out to whoever was most useful to him or wasn't in jail but at least he wasn't alone. 

They weren't going to be friends, but she were company. He didn't want to be alone again.

 "Victor, come." Victor defiantly stood where he was. He wasn't some dog though she seemed to act like it. Then he felt a bit stupid standing there like a statue but before he could casually walk to Ash, she was stomping over to him.  "Are you going to constantly disobey my orders?" Ash scowled, ominously stating "If you really want, I'll teach you magic but you need to follow my orders or else."

Victor froze, his mouth open idiotically but unable to close it. She was offering to teach him some magic. 

There were so many things this could mean. 

That she thought him capable of learning magic. So unlike his parents who thought he was capable of nothing but failure. 

She thought of him having potential to become an equal. Unlike Shuriki and Esteban. 

This scary, sexy, intense woman wanted him to stick around.  Unlike everyone else in the world. Maybe she was not always the vicious shrew he thought she was. And though I'll never like you It's nice to realize

Ash scowled fiercer but inwardly screamed at herself. Why the hell did she offer that to him? 

She should have just threaten him like anyone else and not offer him a chance at power. 

She couldn't imagine Victor with magic. 

He would only bumble it up like he did without magic. 

Yet..it might make things easier if he stayed around. 

Someone to cook for her, someone who seemed easier to control, someone who wouldn't try to grab power from her or hurt her.  Someone that wouldn’t hurt her. 

That last thought sent an uncomfortable flutter in her stomach. Safety was something she always wanted. Safety in power would be preferable but...

She looked at him, his eyes wide with amazement as he nodded, unable to speak his answer. 

Ash nodded curtly and forced herself to walk back to the cave, and not betray how uncertain she felt with this turn of events and whether she'd be able to control its outcome. Maybe I shouldn't quite say never....

Esteban wiped the sleep from his eyes as the coach-man knocked on the door. 

The carriage had rolled to its stop at a local inn since they would be meeting the King in the morning. It was rather too large a house to acquire the title of an inn, but that was a mere label since this establishment hosted many nobles who wanted to "rough" it in a quaint peasant-style house that had all the amenities and servants of a mansion. 

The rain had left when they had crossed the Avalor-Córdoba border so he had no trouble with his umbrella as he stepped out of the crisp night air. The sun was up in the horizon and Doña was looking far too alert for the morning while Esteban was still asleep on his feet. 

"Oh good. I'm getting hungry." Doña said briskly, sweeping into the doorway.

"You weren't kidding about being a morning person." Esteban stared at her, dumbly trudging inside. He couldn't wait to fall into the bed. “Chancellor, your book." The coach-man tapped him on the shoulder as the tired man got inside. Esteban gratefully took the book, horror at having forgotten his files for even a moment breaking through the fog. "Thank you, sir."

 Esteban looked through the book, all the pages were accounted for, however.. he had only edited two thirds of his proposal. He had fallen victim to sleep before he could finish. And he had to finish before he presented it. This was important. He could always sleep after the trade talks.  So he dragged himself to the dining room where Doña was sipping some tea and looking over her own work as the kitchen staff bustled around. 

The image wasn't as irritating as it usually was to him. Doña acting all superior about her time management and constantly working on her financial statements even at a supposedly relaxing meal like breakfast. She was just doing her part in working for the kingdom, for the benefit of the people like he was. 

"Coffee por favor. Strong with sugar and cream." Esteban yawned. 

Doña looked at Esteban skeptically, the guy who complained every morning that he went on trips to other countries that the maids woke him up too early, he was going to have breakfast with her? 

He looked like he was about to face-plant and sleep on the table. She must have been staring since Esteban made an attempt to straighten up and pat his ledger, "I need to finish this." 

Oh right.. His work. If Esteban was going to sacrifice his personal comfort and beauty sleep, it'd be for the kingdom. 

Esteban was holding his head up with his chin and Doña felt her heart tug with pity. What yesterday she would have seen this as another strike in his laziness but now..."How about you go to bed, Chancellor? I'll handle this." 

Doña gently tugged his ledger from his grasp. Esteban opened one suspicious eye, "You'll get the Córdobans to give us more silver than what we're willing to give in return?"

“Yes, to please Shuriki and help you help the kingdom." Dona nodded, a smile creeping across her face even though she didn't quite know why. 

It was a little gesture, she shouldn't be feeling this..this good about making him happy. They were just co-workers, they weren't going to end up becoming friends because they shared a common interest. Please. 

Esteban looked at her and a fond smile grew, perking up his mustache which made Doña smile more in return even though she tried to resist the urge. "Thank you."  Ash arranged the leaves and moss in a somewhat comfortable arrangement to sleep on and started gathering another for a pile for Victor to sleep on near the windy, colder edge at the mouth of the cave. 

No need for him to get too happy thinking she respected him. She didn't, she really didn't. He was inferior, no matter how he made her feel inside. 

But as he dragged the cauldron inside to get out of the heat, a feeling of contentment settled over her. It was peaceful, no running, no practicing, no watching others for backstabbing. She didn't feel tense and alert as usual which worried her since that usually meant the beginning of a trap. 

But Victor wouldn't do that to her. He was safe. She wanted to enjoy this feeling while it lasted. 

Victor brought the cauldron to its place, wiping his forehead from sweat but didn't allow himself to huff and stretch his muscles even though he wanted to.

He wanted to look like he was so strong that these things were effortless. Not that he was trying to impress her or anything. He just wanted to make himself seem useful and that way she wouldn't leave him. 

He looked around at the much more empty cave and noted the two makeshift moss and leaf beds with a pleased smile. It was nice that she was trying to include him now even if she was as bossy as ever. 

He felt good about the future of their potential partnership. Though he was nowhere near her level of confidence nor her ability to lead, make plans nor her relentless determination. He hoped that some of it would rub off on him too.

And maybe together with the magic they learned, he would get the power he wanted. He'd get the respect he deserved. 

But for now at least he wasn't alone.  Maybe you're not the worst thing ever

[beowulfs-booty-call]

The High Priestess, Strength, The Hermit, Justice, The Sun, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

WHEEEEEEE! Okay, honestly, whee reminds me of the Sun and what do you know, a birth tarot card lmao

Anywho, without further ado...!

The High Priestess: One thing you wish you knew

Golly, there’s a lot of stuff I wish I knew, tbh... I wish I knew a lot of stuff I didn’t have to learn the hard way these more recent years in a sense...

But, to be real, I wish I really knew if I was ever going to fall in love with the right person in my life. I know, I know, “You’re the romantic incubus, you’re going to.” But what I mean is, I wish I knew when was the right time, like, how do I know when I’ll be ready to fall in love with someone? Will it be when I feel comfortable with myself like I’m learning to? Will it be when I start bettering myself because of someone else? Will it be when I lose someone and I realize the things they brought to my life ended up making me living a life I can’t live without them? It’s... Tough. I woke up two hours ago, from an intense fever like dream and suddenly everything feels like nothing really exists. Like I’ve been dreaming for a hundred years. 

And that’s what I’ve been wondering about since I woke up.

When will I know I can or will fall in love. 

Granted, it’s something I feel is sort of my own recurring thing to figure out, I really wish I just... Knew, you know?

Now, if it was about a thing I wish I knew as a kid I didn’t have to now, it would be that, people are going to love me for who I am, that being bi is perfectly fine, and being my own person is nothing to hurt me. Masculinity, Femininity... They’re just perceived notions of people. No one is going to stop loving me just because I cross my legs, or because I feel personally comfortable with someone of my own gender, and the opposite gender now and again in a relationship with myself. That... That it’s okay to be who you are now, that no one’s going to tell you to be you, than yourself and your heart.

I really wish I knew that so long ago, so I could be so much happier when I was younger, but, the thing to takeaway from that now is that in the end, it’s okay. I’m learning to make my life better now, and others. That’s really all I can do. And I’m hella into it.

Strength: Something you struggle with

God, accepting myself was the first thing, learning to move on from past mistakes was another, but they’re something I’ve gotten through. Right now, it’s working past the emotional abuse my parents have put me through and learning to give myself the love they haven't. I still have to deal with the pain of looking in the mirror, and thinking: “You’re okay, you aren’t a tool. You aren’t unfeeling for bottling things up. You were just hurt. And that’s okay.” It’s also come to the point I say sorry for many things, big and small but for nigh anything. I know you’ve helped coach me not to put myself in a position in which small acts of kindness are worth gratitude in the way that I make it seem (Like, you know, saying thank you for you acting like a decent person when, I don’t consider myself that.) as well as apologizing for any little thing, but it’s still something I’m trying hard to come off on. I personally think I waste people’s time and I don't actually deserve any sort of kindness because I’m so used to vying for it instead. I’m used to watching people be happy, and I try my best to make them happy, but I can’t see myself happy. And that’s why it’s still hard for me to come off my mannerisms as “stiff”. 

It’s hard because I have these doubts in my mind that when I put my hands together and I feel “stiff”, I’m that kid who sits alone during an award’s ceremony, my parents not there, and I’m walking up to the podium like a machine, and I sit back and pretend I don’t feel anything so I don't break down telling everyone I’m sorry for looking so badly. 

The truth is, I’m learning to move past it. The stiffness is still there at times, but this time I have people I can trust and talk to, and people who love me for who I am. It’s really done a number on my mannerisms now, and, well, I know that this is something I can overcome sometime in the future.

The Hermit: Favourite way to spend a day alone

I like to walk and explore my town or the city when I’m alone, or curl up in bed and read a good book! Personally, I've been left alone for many a time, so I got used to the alone time by inserting myself in stories and myths I read, or by surfing the net for the latest spells to add to my grimoire. When I’m exploring, I like to window shop and maybe even do some chatting with the locals in my spot! We’re all technically neighbors in the sense that I feel perfectly fine with striking up a conversation with someone while waiting for a chai latte at Starbucks. 

That said, I like to draw and write, it’s how I practice! Voice acting... Praying / meditating... Heck, even singing at times! 

But the best way, I say, is when I sit down, put my favorite songs on, all light and maybe a little bit airy... And I wash my hands clean and start to organize my gemstone collection and I do the same with my pokemon card collection and coin collection too! I look through my memory box and then I start to Right after, I pull up my memory box and I end my day there.

My memory box is this lovely fake box shaped like a book that housed simple trinkets, like a keychain from my teacher when he went to London, tickets from the movies I saw with an old friend... A hand made letter from my grandpa... Those things all got into my memory box. At times, when I feel bad, I sift through them and I let myself rethink the memories I had with them.

Justice: A decision you wish you could do over

Definitely not allowing myself to really branch out and start learning more about myself. I didn’t take up any clubs in school until I was a sophomore / junior because my parents told me my grades weren’t high enough (I was an 80 student at the time because the classes were AP and Honors) and as such, clubs were a “luxury”. I ended up taking International Club with my Spanish teacher, later adoptive father figure, Martinez, and photography club in late junior club with my other spanish teacher who really got me into acknowledging myself as a real persona and my love for photography. And even art club!

Had I done that earlier, I feel like I would have so much more to give back and get on as time goes on, but in the end? I’m so glad I took them up anyhow, they’re pieces of what made me who I am today. 

The Sun: Your happiest memory

Goodness, there’s some few of them I got in mind, but man...

One of them was when, I was but a young kid, no more than like 4 or 5. I visited my grandfather in his real estate office and I was just about to graduate my prekindergarten class.

Now, my grandpa looked at me like I was his pride and joy even though we weren’t related by blood. Let me tell you. This man was in his office, and I ended up coming in, and asked his assistant if he was free. Jay, his assistant, warned me that he was busy, but I told him I only wanted to just drop in and say hi. It was a lie, because I wanted me and Mr. Rudy (as we called him, he hated the name “Grandpa”) to go to have lunch at mcdonalds or white castle since it was late may and, well, who doesn’t like some fast food?

So, I knock at his door, and he opens the door to see little old me in my catholic school uniform with a tie and dress shirt and the whole shebang saying,

“Good afternoon, Mr. Rudy! How are you? Are you with a customer?” (Little me prided himself on being able to say customer and not mincing the word like when I say “renember” instead of “remember”.) 

And normally you’d see his glare under his glasses and he’d be angry with you if you did disturb him, but soon as he saw me... He laughed, opened his arm and pulled me up and carried me in talking to his client at the time and sat me down on his lap while he was at his deck. I don’t recall the actual thing the client and him were discussing, but they asked who I was and my grandpa had the biggest, proudest grin on his face and he put his hand over my head, ruffled my hair and said sUPER loud “This is my son!” and little me... Man, little Chris™ was “I’m his son!” on repeat for a good hour. 

We went out, to my graduation after that, and it was then my grandpa went ahead, cancelled his meetings and personally was there to watch. He took me out to celebrate at the local diner and we ended up talking endlessly about Jesus and the catholic religion as a whole because I was just learning about it all. Honestly, it was my happiest memory, because when my father and mother never once acted like one, my grandpa was there to do so, with a  big smile on his face, a good stimulating chat with someone like me, and always saw me as an adult. I felt so validated for my feelings and thoughts. That memory never left me, not even to this day. He’s sadly not around anymore since he passed memorial day weekend, but in an odd sense? He left me a cross made of petrified wood and a cast iron Christ on it, with an opal rosary wrapped around it and a leather backed bible dating from the 60′s. In a sense, he’s not here anymore, but those memories, those little things we did together... They’ll never leave me. 

[animenicolesmith]

choke

Have you ever been sitting in your living room trying to focus a mundane task when a freight train crashed through your brain at breakneck speed? and suddenly you're on that train and your speaking to a man but you’re using an australian accent and making jokes about being british and you do not know this man at all but you’re glad he’s there in that dining car with you because you know there are dangerous people on this train so you're suspicious of him but not enough to try your luck with another shadow and he's started using an accent too now and it turns out he doesn't even speak english and suddenly you’re crying and your mind won't stop moving and you don't what is going on or why all of your feelings suddenly chose to express themselves while you were searching through coat pockets in your closet and I can tell that I'm going to cry for about 10 minutes already and that my throat will feel raw and my chest will hurt and I will sit down at my desk and begin writing without stopping to consider the consequences. You are that train. It's been months since I thought about what happened between us, soon it'll have been years and then decades. I can't wait for that. I can't wait for it to have been 50 years since I last spoke to you in the woods and I can't wait to feel the way I feel right now again. The full strength of all the relief I've felt these past few months has been slowly pushing that bullet you put inside me up through my esophagus and I can feel it in the back of my throat ready to launch. I open my mouth and it goes.  I feel explosive.  I feel like I've just jumped into a cool pool so saline my skeleton suspends itself. I want to drown surrounded by goldfish, purple light and a heartbeat.  I feel like the hermit crab I had when I was 7 after she survived switching shells again and she finally had the room she needed to grow. Rosie always chose pink shells I think she was admirably comfortable in her femininity for one so hard to the touch. discomfort is finally giving me comfort. It took so long to shed your skin that I was beginning to worry I would be pulling pieces of you off of me for the rest of my life.  I dreamt about you the other night. We were locked in a meat locker with two doors at either end and all of our family and friends were gathered, surrounding the outside, having a party. Each time we would unlock a door with the single key we shared, someone outside would latch it back up. Not in a threatening way, they were just being helpful, the central cellar was kept locked, everyone knew that. It was pitch black. We started off friendly but with an edge. we dropped the key on purpose so the other would have to search the dirty floor on hand and knee. It was torture lite. We made small talk out of the sides of our mouths about our separate lives. You illuminated my face with a screen and showed me the things you were calling me from far away. Sudden exhaustion hit me as it often does when it comes to the topic of your words. I shut my eyes and in the corner of the room a woman and her daughter appeared, both made from clay. The mother carried a handful of soil and whenever her daughter spoke to her she began trying to sculpt herself teeth. She could not speak. She came close to me and pressed the tip of her tongue against my face. It was human. She probed at the spot where your thumb used to dig into my cheek when you would pull my head back and force me to look into your eyes. I pushed it back inside her mouth. The girl began to speak with a voice full of an anger I wanted to understand but when I took a step forward she grabbed my throat. You leaned against a long metal shelf and scrolled through your phone. The mother prostrated herself and turned her doll’s eyes toward her child of rage. She let me go. They handed me a block of white clay and I made a set of teeth. I tried scoring Mother's soft gums but nothing would keep them in. she would fall to the ground, an inhuman motion simultaneously fast and slow, her clothing fluttering around her like moths’ wings, and search for the small ivory pieces on the dusty floor while her daughter spoke. Daughter talked about the stars in a way that scared me and made me dream of drowning. Our darkness seemed limitless, eternal, and I lost time. When you finally emerged from your end of the cage you were older than your father and carried a larger gun. We began arguing over nothing and the fire made our skin glow. I took our key and opened the door. A new family had moved in to the home around us while we were in the dark. Mother crept out into the light on all fours, limbs spread wide like a spider while Daughter charged ahead, through the screen door and into the night air. I turned away from you for a moment and you were gone. Your presence still hung in the air. I stood on the porch and watched a woman with dark hair pull boxes out of a station wagon. We were close, related, my mind called her Rose. The new house on the edge of the forest was a fresh start, it always is. Three kids climbed out of the backseat and I felt tension in the air. The environment suddenly picked up, like it had just finished loading. Mother and Daughter had faded into the shadows. The house was more like a farm than it seemed from the inside. A small garden was just off the side of the driveway and I saw pumpkin vines twisting throughout, unconstrained. I could hear music and see flashes of light down the path next to the house into the trees. A party. I watch two girls stumbled up the hill toward the porch before finding their way onto the path of discarded red cups and sprinting to be swallowed by the sound. The kids begin to complain about missing their soccer games and dance classes, Rose approaches the garden and Mother lunges toward her, bright pearls trail from her open mouth. You reappear on the edge of the darkness carrying a shotgun. I grab the children and run straight towards unknown danger. We were young once and we ran together like that too. We ran away from everything for as long as we could. shut our eyes and plugged our ears until we couldn’t see each other but we kept running. We hid where no one could reach us and named our children and believed things would okay if we kept just kept going and one day we would be married and be happier than anyone else and live in each other and bathe in golden light but we couldn’t see or hear one another so we were constantly reaching for nothing, swiping blindly, our bodies crashing, tripping and falling the whole way. Losing track of shadows and screaming for help that refused to hear your voice. We were finally reaching a destination and I couldn't find you I fumbled desperately grasping at straws and counting blades of grass and throwing myself on the fires you set and praying aloud that I would find you and everything would be okay again but I was alone  In the quiet i slashed my side hoping you might smell my blood and show me yours but you were already gone.  and you did not bleed. i howled and dragged my body behind me while crawling from your ghost.  You walked up behind me and shot me in the head.  I have finally felt the death I've been holding inside of me. Death came to me at 12:36 in the afternoon on an unseasonably warm day while I was organizing my shoes. He drove a baby blue hearse and strange lights followed it through the sky. He is a stranger who knows me well. He tells me the truth and just the right lies. I feel exhausted and euphoric when I think about him. He knocked on my door, pinned me down, and pulled a diamond out of my throat. I had forgotten you put it there. Shiny and smooth, he made it a ring. It had once been a shard of glass. I don’t choke for you anymore.

[j-writes-and-suffers]

NaNoWriMo Day Nine

By the time his last lecture was over, Philip was exhausted, but much happier than he’d been in a long while. All of his classes had liked him, and a few students had even invited him to join them at lunch. He’d agreed, and ended up spending his lunchtime debating about Lord of the Rings trivia with undergrads. It had been surprisingly fun, and he felt way more welcome now, like he was really and genuinely a part of the Stag Family.

Done with classes for the day, Philip had a visit to make. He grabbed the jacket he’d brought off the chair, throwing it on. Packing up his papers and computer, he tossed his bag over his shoulder, and made his way towards the back exit of the academic hall. He ignored the sidewalks, taking the shortcut Lucien showed him. Moments later, he walking was out of the woods in front of the library. Philip smirked, a little proud of himself for remembering the path. He hurried up the stairs, yanking the hefty door open and strolling in. A petite Asian girl was sitting behind the circulation desk, thumbing through what looked to be a biology textbook. She looked up when Philip walked in.

“Hmm… blond, short, wearing a tweed jacket that’s clearly not yours… You’re Philip.”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly confused and very alarmed. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Luci hasn’t shut up about you all day. He’s in the back. I’m assuming, of course, that you’re here to see him.” She replied.

Philip nodded. “I… I am, yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The girl went back to reading.

Tiptoeing through the aisles, Philip headed for the lounge in the back room. He walked slowly and cautiously, determined to sneak up on Lucien for once. The lounge door was open, so he crept up to the entrance, pressed against the wall as he peeked inside.

“Hello, Philip.” Lucien turned away from the coffeemaker to smile at him.

“How the fuck!” Philip burst out of his hiding spot, enraged. “I didn’t make a sound the whole way over!”

“I heard you talking to Heather.”

Philip’s jaw dropped. “That was all the way across the library.”

Lucien chuckled, “My sight may be awful, but my hearing is superb. Don’t just stand there all day like a shitty statue. Come in, sit down.”

Philip walked in, dropping down on the familiar, cozy couch. “Do you have any hot chocolate over there?”

“I might… let’s see.” Lucien started rifling through cabinets, after a moment, producing a metal tin with candy canes painted on it. “Aha! Would you like extra dark, marshmallow madness, or cinnamon twist.”

“Mm… marshmallows.” Philip nodded confidently.

Lucien gave a thumbs up, turning back to the coffee maker. He poured the last of the tea out into his own mug, rinsing the pot out and returning it to the maker for fresh hot water. While it filled, he turned to Philip, leaning on the counter and raising an eyebrow. “So, how was your first day?”

“It was really good!” Philip beamed. “The kids were nice, and they liked me, and some of them took me to lunch.”

“Really?” The older man smiled warmly, “I’m glad.”

Philip leaned forward, asking, “What about you? I see your student assistants showed up.”

“I’ve been giving tours most of the day. Teachers that assign lots of reading like to bring their students out here. So do the research nuts.” Lucien turned back to the coffee maker, pouring out a mug’s worth of hot water to make cocoa. Once the chocolately powder was dissolved, he walked over to the couch and held out the mug.

The chipper blond accepted his drink, taking a sip and grinning. “Tastes like nostalgia and diabetes.”

Caught off guard, Lucien busted out laughing. Much louder and lower than his speaking voice, his genuine laugh was deep and hearty. Philip’s eyes widened in delight and surprise.

“Wow! You have a non-library voice! I never would’ve known.”

Lucien smiled, his laugh trailing off as he replied, “I use my indoor voice constantly these days. It’s a habit I fell into years ago. I suppose it comes from hardly socializing when I’m not at work.”

“You really are a hermit, aren’t you, old man?” Philip teased.

Rolling his eyes, Lucien huffed. “I should’ve poisoned that cocoa. You’re so mean to me.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway.” Philip insisted, “Besides, you’re too nice to hurt anybody.”

Lucien’s eyes darkened briefly, but Philip was too busy sipping cocoa to notice. The older man regained his composure by the time the younger one was paying attention. “I like to think so.”

“I think so.” Philip nodded insistently.

Forcing a smile, Lucien rushed to change the subject, “Do you have classes tomorrow?”

Philip had to stop and think for a second. “Just one, in the afternoon.”

“Ah, so you get to sleep in?”

“I do!” The blond nodded, clearly glad to not have to be up at the asscrack of dawn.

Lucien smiled more sincerely, “That’s good. I know you’re more of a night owl.”

“Yeah, my brain just can’t really get going till like ten. Doesn’t matter when I go to sleep.”

“I’m just the opposite,” Lucien mused, “Up early, and asleep as soon as I’m home. I honestly would prefer that the library close earlier, but I know you manic children love to stay up late and study.”

Philip snickered, mumbling something about ‘sleepy old men’ into his hot chocolate.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing.” Philip grinned mischievously. He knew sharp-eared Lucien had heard him just fine.

The older man rolled his eyes, sighing and adjusting his glasses. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Cause you’d be bored otherwise.” The younger man beamed back at Lucien, setting his mug aside and sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. “Oh! I almost forgot. This is yours.” He started to take off the jacket, but Lucien put out a hand to stop him.

“Keep it. I must have ten of those. It makes you look… more professorly.”

Philip smiled, tugging the jacket back on and puffing out his chest. “It does?”

“Oh, indeed.” Lucien nodded, “You look so studious and wise.” He chuckled, but he was only half-joking. With the addition of a real jacket, Philip really did look more mature. It took him from ‘awkward kid at a school dance’ to ‘turn to page 394’.

“Yesss.” Philip grinned, “I’ve finally got my aesthetic. Maybe next I can - ‘choo!” He was distracted by a sneeze, groaning and rubbing his nose.

Lucien frowned. “Are you sure you’re not getting sick?” He scooted closer, hovering over Philip like a worried mother.

“Nah,” Philip shook his head. “It’s been on and off all week. Gotta be allergies. There must be a dog running around campus.”

“That… seems a little far-fetched.” Lucien mused, “Are you sure you don’t have any other allergies?”

Philip shook his head. “Nah, there’s no way. I got shit-tons of allergy tests when my mom found out she was allergic to bees. Luck’s on me, I guess, cause I’m not. Dogs are my only weakness.”

“That is lucky, I suppose.” Lucien forced a smile. “Will you walk with me? I have a few new books to put in the system. I’ve not had time earlier, what with all the tours.”

“Yeah, of course.” Philip hopped to his feet, sniffling and grabbing his cocoa. “Let’s go.” He scurried after Lucien as they headed down a narrow stairwell to the basement. “Whoa… this shit is spooky.” The peppy blond paused on the steps. “Hold up a sec. This isn’t like… a murder basement, right? I’m gonna come back up in one piece?”

“Nope. This is how you die.” Lucien chuckled, knowing Philip would continue to follow him anyway.

The two made their way down to the lowest floor of the library. With bare concrete walls and a pretty pathetic heater, it was cold and unwelcoming. There were reams of blank paper, cans of toner, and shiny new textbooks on one wall. Along another sat a workbench, along with boxes of books in various states of disrepair. In a smaller back area, there sat outdated technologies, like overhead projectors and CRT TVs with VHS players.

Philip began snooping around, particularly fascinated by the piles of torn-up books. He pointed to the workbench, asking, “Is this like… a repair shop? For books?”

“Yes. I try not to let my books get that bad, but some borrowers are particularly cruel to them. When I get a book back that’s in bad shape, it comes down here, and I do my best to bring it back to life. If it’s missing pages, or has water damage, I can’t do much, but I can fix loose spines and tears no problem.” Lucien was digging through a file cabinet, from which he produced a stamp bearing the school seal. He opened a second drawer, pulling out a roll of labels and a barcode scanner. “This is going to take a while, feel free to sit down.”

Turning the workbench chair to face Lucien, Philip sat down and pulled up his laptop. “Dude…” he groaned, “There’s no WiFi down here.”

“Oh, you poor Millennial, how ever will you live an hour without it?” Lucien’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Look, you didn’t tell me we were coming to a bunker from the 90s. What am I supposed to do, dust off one of those TVs and watch Bill Nye?”

Lucien shrugged. “You probably could. I think I have some tapes around here somewhere.”

“Wait, for real?” Philip perked up, “Cause that would be kinda dope. I haven’t watched Bill Nye in years. Well… good Bill Nye. His Netflix series was fucking terrible.”

“So I hear.” Lucien smiled. “Do you want me to find the tapes?”

“Yes! Please.” Philip nodded, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright. Just a moment. They’re definitely in one of the these boxes, but I’m not sure which…” Lucien gestured to a corner of the room that was stacked floor to ceiling with cardboard crates.

Philip gaped. “Oh, shit. Good luck.”

“Don’t you doubt me. I’m fairly sure they were right.... Here.” Lucien slid a box from the middle of a stack, like he was playing jenga. Flipping open the top, he grinned. “Bill Nye, the Science Guy. Am I good, or am I good?”

“You’re pretty good.” Philip smiled, coming over to dig through the tapes. He grabbed one at random and went over to plug in the nearest TV. “This is gonna be awesome.”