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haru's wonderland ♔ fiction
Haruhitastic
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http://i.imgur.com/GBH7aMt.png
NOTICE Revamping some stuff, bear with me!



To whom it may concern,
To give you some background, my name is Ashleigh, or Haru. I'm a twenty-three year old freelance writer who hopes to become a novelist. I'll be posting my writings here, updating stuff, sharing all of the things I write.

Some of it may be updated, it may not. It'll depend how I'm feeling.
I've got a bad habit of stopping writing stuff halfway through because I have other things I'm working on.

I'll be updating this as I find more of my writing and upload it to deviantArt.
Criticism and critique are more than welcome.

ONE SHOTS
A Chance Encounter
[Fanfiction] One shot featuring Thor and Darcy from the Marvel Universe
An untitled excerpt, featuring an eight year old understanding her grandmother's diabetes.

EXCERPTS
Memoirs of a Normal Japanese Teen; my 2014 NaNoWriMo novel.
Chapter one

Divided
Chapters one and two

Final Ticket (outdated, due a rewrite...)
Read on Wattpad

TO DO LIST (incomplete)
✓ - "Come On Home"
✓ - "Love Game" (60,000 word novel, commission)
✓ - Hannah Meadows series (ten 6,000 word ebooks, commission) 3/10 completed
✓ - Undertale AU commission
✓ - Personal commission for a friend (roughly 2,000 words)
✓ - Glitched

c o m e o n h o m e
With it's target audience being young adults between fifteen and twenty, "Come On Home," is a contemporary romance that tells the story of college sophomore Daniel Joseph Hurley, reeling from a breakup with his long-distance girlfriend Kiernan Gillespie. As the days wear on, Daniel has dreams of being with her once more; and on the first day of his winter break, he has a dream that he drives up to see her and finds himself inspired. But there's one catch: he can't drive.

But his best friend Carter can.

Together, the two embark on a journey over five hundred miles long, and discover things they never knew about the world, and each other.

d a n h u r l e y
twenty ♧ sophomore ♧ INTJ
Daniel Joseph Hurley, known as Dan to his peers, is a quiet, reserved lad who mostly keeps to himself in his room. He prefers computers to humans, and is always seen on his phone.
After his high school graduation, Dan took a year off to figure out just what it was he wanted to do with his life. He always had a passion for photography, and even though he knew it wouldn't really get him anywhere, he finally sat down and signed up to go to a local university.
Dan is never seen without his phone, always snapping photos and finding ways to present things in a new, interesting light. He especially likes beach photography, hence his constant trips to Daytona and Naples.

He met Kiernan on an online MMO game during his winter break, and fell for her instantly. A girl that played games with the rest of the boys? Exciting as all get out!
The two got along well, and after a couple weeks of flirting and Skype calls, they officially agreed to date and enter a long distance relationship.
But when Dan went back to school, things found themselves rocky and before he knew it, Kiernan was gone. He had missed her ever since, dreaming about her constantly...
Dan could be described by his friends as quiet and kind-hearted. While he largely keeps to himself, he's hardly shy -- just introverted. He's very by the book and always agrees to rules, but breaking the one rule of going out without his parents permission on one fateful day was one he just couldn't resist.

http://i.imgur.com/y31FsAK.png



k i e r n a n g i l l e s p ie
eighteen ♧ bookstore clerk ♧ INFP
Born from an Italian mother and Scottish father, Kiernan lived in the hills of Scotland until age three. When her parents divorced, her mother remained while her father moved her to a tiny mountain town in Western North Carolina to start a new life.
Homeschooled for most of her life, Kiernan didn't really socialise much and instead opted for her friend the book. Of course, it was only fitting that she land a job in a quaint book boutique/coffee shop in the Grove Arcade, surrounded by her favourite thing in the world where she could dress in any way she desired.

Kiernan has always been interested in the idea of magic and finds herself attracted to it, hence why landed her on that fateful MMO that she met her "Jojo" on. She loved him deeply, but some circumstances were too dire and she had to let him go...
But what was it?
We'll find out soon.

Kiernan enjoys socialising but prefers to keep to herself. She'll drop anything to help someone in need, and loves children as well as sharing the knowledge she's learned from all her years of taking it in.


http://i.imgur.com/FoRTUFH.png



c a r t e r t a t u m
twenty ♧ junior ♧ ESFP
The child of an affluent South Georgia family, Carter's spent his entire life living rather comfortably and without anyone ever really knowing it.
The Tatums moved to Florida when he entered middle school and bonded with Dan almost immediately over a love of monster-based card games and monster-based TV shows. His enthusiastic, extroverted personality played alongside his pal's brilliantly, and Carter is always seen as the life of the party -- even if there's no party at all.

Carter aims to be a video game designer, and loves to study computers and gaming. He's always the go to for info about computing, graphics work and such, and him and Dan work together often for scenery in Carter's game designs.
Carter also enjoys going for long drives, so the trip to Asheville pleases him greatly. He can't wait to get on the road, but that's no promise he'll enjoy the entire trip, complete with it's speed traps and wrecks..

http://i.imgur.com/mGNp4cN.png



http://i.imgur.com/EE8j2S0.png


aka all the stuff you actually didn't care to learn but will read anyway out of boredom. :B

What is a "freelance writer?"
A "freelance writer" is...me!
It's a real fancy term for someone who works on a case by case basis writing for someone. If someone approaches me with a plot, and I agree to it, then I write for them. I typically do not get credit as I am doing something called "ghostwriting" (writing for someone and they put their name on it), but it's fine. I'd rather be known for my own ideas!
There's all different kinds of freelance writers -- blogs, novels, short stories, the like. I prefer to dabble in it all. :)

What genres do you like to read/write?
For both reading and writing, I enjoy romance; typically young and new adult -- both of which I write and prefer to do such. I like to read crime novels as well, but I rarely, if ever, write them.

How did you learn to write?
With a notebook and a pen when I was four. :B
Sarcasm aside, I never really... learned? I began writing short stories around age four, and wrote my first novel at age eleven or so. My writing back then was dry and boring, so I read various how to books on writing. Those also were dry and boring lol. One of the only books I enjoyed said to read your favourite books as samples of people's styles, and figure out what you like and go from there. So I sampled from the styles of J.K. Rowling, Tami Hoag, John Green and a few various others and found what fit me best.

What books/methods do you suggest for people wanting to write/learn to write?
The only two books that I enjoy and keep on hand are the following:
- "No Plot? No Problem!" by Chris Baty
- "Writers Inc: A Student Handbook for Writing and Learning," a sampling of which can be found here!

A few other things, quoted from a private message I sent a user some time ago:
- Read more. Pay attention to people's styles. Everyone writes differently. Writing is never a consistent thing. Some people write with flowery language, others keep things simple-ish.
- Don't overuse "said." At the same time, don't never use it. Don't subscribe to the myth "said is dead," which many writers lately have tried to do. Said is not dead, said is merely overused. Use words like responded, replied, et cetera. Give this page a read as well, and pay attention to the top as well. That's important stuff too. (Scroll to the bottom and click examples as well)
- Proof read and spell check prior to publishing/posting. Just do it.

Are you published?/Where can I buy your books?
No where... just yet! "Come On Home," which has it's own dedicated tab, is being penned in hopes of being published. So keep an eye out on how to read it soon! I can tell you it'll be a bit different of a method. ;)

Dernière modification le 1463969040000
Rosuuri
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NICE NICE NICE!!!
Haruhitastic
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a couple drabbles im working on, i like this one that ill probs turn into a short story:

When the girl asked for a pina colada, I gave her one of those looks like “who the fuck are you kidding?” Her eyes were wide, and the nerdy glasses only made them wider; and with a round face she looked like she couldn’t be more than fifteen. But sure enough, she tossed me an ID that said she was legal, at least as of a week ago.
My entire time waiting on her I had been deliberating what race she was. I thought maybe she was Indian, of the Native American variety that is, until I looked at her ID.
Bethari Cohen was what it said. and Bethari seemed a bit more like a Hindu name than a Native name, by far. She lived up a couple roads away from the bar, and she supposedly had her twenty-first birthday back on the ninth.
It was 8:00 PM on a Thursday in Greenville, and Applebee’s wasn’t exactly the place you gave a fake ID. Weren’t kids more into beer anyway?
The ID looked real enough so I ducked behind the counter and mixed her drink, tending to a couple tables before delivering it. She flashed me a smile, sipping from the straw as she looked over the menu. I heard her mumbling to herself about whether she wanted the riblets or a hamburger.
“What do you suggest, uh...” Her voice trailed off a few seconds before her index finger pointed at the name tag attached to my apron strap. “Jack. Yeah. What do you suggest?”
“The riblets,” I responded curtly. She smiled and nodded, as if it were her way of saying “yeah, give me that.” So I did as she asked, filing a glass of water prior to handing the order into the cook.

Bethari stayed a couple extra hours, nursing that same damn pina colada. I was beginning to wonder if she just got it to look cool to the other tables.
Most everyone else had gone home. Hell, it was about time for me to go home.
Trying to be as friendly as one could be before basically saying “get the fuck out,” I sat in the seat across from her and looked at her. She was looking at her iPhone, her thumb flipping up and down. Figured she was looking at Facebook or something.
“Hey, Miss Cohen.”
Her head shot up when I said her name, and her mouth gaped open slightly. “Listen, I’d love for you to stay all night but we close soon and I gotta clean up.”
“Oh... right, sorry.” Her voice was quiet, not as boisterous as it was when she first came in. It was almost as if she was more sober now than before. “I lost track of time. It flies when you’re having fun.”
Fun? Didn’t know how she was having that. She picked at her ribs and ate no more than three fries. I focused my eyes on her as she stood, wobbling a bit in her high heels. She regained her composure and began making her way to the door, before turning to look at me and smiling. “When do you work again?”
“Oh, uhm,” I seemed to get tripped up on my words before blurting out that I’d be here at 5:00 PM tomorrow.
“I’ll be here.”


and a tfm fic i might finish idk... are tfm fics a thing if u dont allow mary sue character applications anymore

The sun shone almost blindingly as Miya rose from her bed, her eyes opening up slowly to minimise the pain of the brightness outside. After the idea had been plagued by rain for nearly a week, it was delightful to finally see the sun. Of course, the intense sunlight in her room and hurting her eyes wasn’t quite as delightful.
She crawled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, straightening her hair out as best as she could. That one stubborn lilac curl near her ear remained as she tied it up in a pony, but she was growing to get used to it.
Today felt like it would be... interesting, but she just couldn’t figure out why.
As she reached the door, it swung open on it’s own -- or rather, she thought it did. It turned out her friend Meyn was behind the door; a plucky little mouse with spotted fur and white hair. Everything else he wore was fire-engine red, including the glasses perched on his nose.
Pinksrainbow
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nO WAY I READ FINAL TICKET A WHILE BACK AND NOW IM FINDING OUT THE AUTHOR IS YOu
small world woah
love your writing ♥♥
Emberkitx
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you're so good at writing haru omg
Haruhitastic
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Pinksrainbow a dit :
nO WAY I READ FINAL TICKET A WHILE BACK AND NOW IM FINDING OUT THE AUTHOR IS YOu
small world woah
love your writing ♥♥

Oh what really! Wowwwww. That really brightens my day haaaa. Thank you!

Emberkitx a dit :
you're so good at writing haru omg

tyyyy beautiful <3
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wonderful omg
Haruhitastic
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who wants 2.5k words of bullshit that i dropped b/c this person is gonna turn it into a series and not pay me jack squat

I stared intensely at the doorknob as it turned open. I always thought doorknobs were cool for some reason, but I never knew why. When the door opened, Mommy came in, and she chuckled when she saw me.
She asked how school was, I didn’t tell her. School was always really hard and really embarrassing! I hated it. More than everyone else.
The kids made fun of me because my locker was so neat and that I had my books organized by size and colour, and that all my pens were in order by length.
I didn’t know why I did this, just that I felt like I should. My brain told me to.
I turned back to the door, putting my hand on it and turning it. That weird pokey thing was cool to push in and out, and it made a sound when I did it.
“Dave, sweetie, come in the kitchen.”
“Okay, Mommy,” I replied to Mommy and closed the door, looking at the handle as I walked to the kitchen. She had a plate of cookies on the table and a box of apple juice. My favourite!
I sat on my knees in the chair and took a big drink of the juice, sorting the cookies by their size. I asked my brain if I should do it by amount of chocolates too, but no reply from it.
I threw two cookies in my mouth at once.
“Sweetie, don’t do that...” Mommy tapped my cheek as I chewed. I frowned. I heard a knock on the door and jumped, and my heart began doing the thing where it was all painful and loud. Why was someone visiting? Didn’t they know it was mine and Mommy’s talk time? Every day at 3:43 in the afternoon.
Mommy walked back to the door and I followed behind her. Daddy was home early, but why? He gave me a hug and a kiss on my cheek and walked into the kitchen, sitting in my seat.
I frowned, but I couldn’t kick Daddy for doing that. He would be angry and say that I wasn’t respectful.
So I sat in his chair and frowned, staring at him as Mommy gave him a glass of milk. He was saying that his tummy hurt and that he wasn’t feeling good so he went home from work.
I shouldn’t have been, but I was angry at Daddy. He ruined my talk time with Mommy.
Grumpily, I walked up the stairs and shut my door so I could get on my computer.

Three nights later, everything was normal again. Daddy got better (Mommy told me it was something called “food poisoning,” from eating a bad lunch at Daddy’s favourite restaurant), and was working. Mommy and I got our talk times again and I was happy.
At dinner on Friday, I rolled all my green beans in a line and ate them from shortest to longest. Daddy told me that he and Mommy had been talking about getting a pet, and would be meeting with a breeder to talk about getting one of their doggies tomorrow. I was really excited, because I was the only person in my class who didn’t have a pet! I could finally be like everyone else!
Mommy showed me pictures of the puppies. They were cute, fluffy and white, with their mouths open and tongues out. I couldn’t wait!
As soon as I finished dinner I zoomed up the stairs to take a bath and get ready for bed, so I could wake up bright and early and we could see the puppies. It was going to be a really hard choice which puppy I wanted, for sure!

I woke up at 9:14 in the morning, the time I usually woke up at. I got my cereal and milk and sat in the living room, turning our big television on and watching cartoons. My favourite part of Saturday!
My parents would be up soon to make their breakfast and then we would leave to look at the doggies. I was so excited, I could barely sleep. I kept thinking about names for them. I wanted it to have a cool name like Rocky or Bruiser! They would get really big, I was sure; so those names would be great.
Mommy and Daddy came down the stairs together and told me that Grandma would be coming over to watch me while they picked up the puppy. I felt like my heart sank into my tummy. I wanted to pick my puppy, and I wanted to name him too! My parents would probably give it a dumb name like Spot or Fluffy.
I pouted when Mommy told me, and went back to sit in the living room and watch my robot cartoons from Japan.

I fell asleep at 11:42, twelve minutes after Grandma came to the house. Grandma spent most of her time looking at a book with a shirtless man on it while I watched my cartoons,
The door opened and I sprung up, expecting it to be Mommy and Daddy; and sure enough, it was! With a puppy!
“Her name is Jade,” Dad said, right as she sprung from his arms and jumped onto the couch. Jade was an...okay name, I guessed. Definitely wasn’t Bruiser. But at least it wasn’t dumb.
Before I could catch her to hug her, she had ran upstairs, sniffing all around. I jumped up to follow behind her, spotting as she ran into my room and began pulling my books out from the shelf, sniffing and biting them.
My heart did the jumpy thing again, and my face got hot and sweaty. I was really upset, and my brain was telling me that my room was ruined thanks to Jade! I was really angry at her.
I grabbed her and pushed her out the room, glaring at her as she stared at me, her tail wagging. Mommy came up and saw the mess, and knelt down to look at me. “She’s just a puppy, Dave, she doesn’t know better.”
I nodded, but I was still angry! I looked at my bookshelf and the pile of books and how messy everything was. I would have to order all my books again...
My eyes fixed on my door handle and I just stared. It was somehow calming me... I knew it was silly but I couldn’t help it.
I reached out and turned the knob a bit back and forth, touching it all over. I felt a bit better now, but the mess of books still made me really angry!
Sighing, I turned and shut my door; and began piling the books onto my shelf, starting in the As. It was going to be a lot of work...

The puppy was trying to tear up the entire house! I heard Mommy yelling at her a lot, telling her she was a bad dog. I heard whimpering too, from Jade. I felt bad for her, nobody liked to be yelled at -- but she was being a monster, like Mommy always called me when I would do something messy.
I kept my door shut so Jade wouldn’t come in and ruin my room. I just got my books ordered again and I did NOT want to see them messed up again!
I came downstairs at 5:42 PM. Dinner would be ready in fourteen minutes, as usual. Jade was sleeping on a pillow on the floor, on her side. She was a really cute puppy, it was a shame she was so messy!
Mommy called me for dinner early and I frowned. I still had twelve minutes of play time left and I was going to read a book during it! But I wandered into the kitchen anyway, and sat in my seat. Mama had a plate with a piece of chicken and some Brussels sprouts. Ick...
I found myself rolling them all into order, from smallest to largest, before taking a bite of my chicken. Mommy seasoned it really nicely, and it was tasty.
Mommy told me we would have to go out early tomorrow because we were going to take Jade to the vet and then to a training school so she wouldn't be "uncontrollable," in Mommy's words. I didn't want to wake up early on Sunday! The only reason I woke up early on the weekend was for my cartoons, not for some stupid class for the puppy!
I was really hating this puppy now. She had already destroyed the house, and now my Sunday.
Jade wandered into the kitchen and I looked down and stared at her. Her tail was wagging and she was looking up at the table, her mouth open and her tongue sticking out as she panted.
Without thinking, I gave her my biggest Brussels sprout. Mommy called my name and slapped my hand, telling me not to feed her.s
"She'll beg at the table if you get her started on that. People food isn't good for dogs."
Jade didn't seem to like the sprout anyway. She licked it and then sneezed, and walked away.
I could understand her, I didn't like them either.
Mommy moved from the table and knelt down, picking it up with a napkin and throwing it away. "Well, seems like you won't be able to give them to her though, so you have to eat your veggies after all, Dave." I frowned and shoved the small one into my mouth. I would probably fake being full so I wouldn't have to finish...

When I went to bed, I was still angry. Jade had ruined my entire weekend! Mommy told me that it wouldn't be an issue once she was trained properly, but I was tired of her already! Would she ruin my next weekend too?!
My door cracked open and I fully expected it to be Mommy, but no. It was the stupid puppy. I angrily threw the cover over my bed, hiding my face. I didn't want to see her.
But I felt weight in my bed, and suddenly i could feel her laying next to me on the cover.
Maybe she wasn't so bad...

Mommy woke me up Sunday morning at 10:03 AM and told me to come down for breakfast. She had made pancakes! I ran down the stairs and almost tripped, but it was worth it!
Jade was following behind me, and I could feel her tail on my leg. It felt weird but soft.
When I got in the kitchen, a plate was at my seat and the bottle of syrup next to it. I was so excited!
I began throwing the pancakes into my mouth -- Mommy called it shoveling. Jade was standing next to my chair watching me, and I had to remember what Mommy said. No feeding her people food!
I finished at 10:17 and gave my plate to Mommy, who then washed it and told me to get dressed. I threw on my favourite video game shirt, with one of my favourite characters, and some shorts and ran back downstairs. Mommy had Jade on a leash and she was jumping around excitedly.
She wasn't that bad at all, it seemed.

The teacher at the training school told us Jade would be hard to train because of her breed type. The teacher called her "stubborn," to which Mommy added "like my husband." The teacher then told us that despite how hard it would be to train Jade, "it could be done."
Jade was sniffing at the teacher's leg, her eyes on the teacher's hands as he made motions. She barked softly in response, and by holding up his hand he was able to quiet her down. He was really able to control her! It was impressive! Hopefully we could control her like this soon.
After Mommy gave him some money, we walked out the door. Before leaving I looked at the door closely, squinting my eyes. Why was there no door handle? This door was really weird.
There was a big lock, like the door in our house, but no actual knob...
It kind of made me sad. I didn't know why.
Mommy tugged my hand as her and Jade walked out the door, and I followed.

I went to school the next day and eagerly told all my friends about my puppy. I showed them pictures I took with my phone, and everybody kept talking how cute she was. Jade was making me popular and it was exciting!
When I went to Mrs. Peterson's class, she told us that we would be doing a project on the history of America, which was my favourite subject. She gave us our assignments for our groups, and I hoped I got great people.
I got a new girl named Rose who I knew from the playground, and a boy named Jamie who was the dirtiest, nastiest boy in the class. I was looking forward to talking to Rose more, but I did NOT want Jamie on my team.
I was going to ask Mrs. Peterson if I could swap, but someone else had raised their hand asking what to do if they didn't like their teammate. Her reply was to "deal with it."
I pouted and sulked in my seat, crossing my arms. This was NOT the team I wanted and I didn't want to even do this stupid project.
Rose looked over at me from the other side of the class and waved, and my heart did the fluttery thing... but it didn't hurt. It felt kind of nice...

We met up back in the class after lunch. Rose sat next to me, and Jamie next to her. Jamie was so gross, with his hair gross and stringy and his face dirty from sand. He looked like he had been eating it or something!
I made a face and turned back to the teacher. Rose touched my hand and looked at me, her eyes focusing on Jamie next to her.
"He's so...ewww..." she said quietly. I nodded. Jamie waved at us as he opened his notebook, filled with stains. He was just really gross. Was it too late to back out?
Probably was...
I focused on Rose, who had said we should do our report on something called the Depression. Mommy had told me a bit about it; that a lot of people had lost money invested in companies and stuff. But it was going to be really confusing and complicated! Rose assured me she knew a lot about it because her grandmother was a child during it and told her stories.
We looked at Jamie, who looked at us and burped. Rose hid her face and I felt really sick. How gross...
"Sounds good," he said, before turning back to his notebook. "My dad's a writer, so I'll write the report. I know all about writing." I stared at him before turning to my notebook, writing down things to look up on my computer when I was home. Rose made some kind of huff noise before turning back, and we all sat in silence for the rest of the class.

background: an eight year old boy with ocd-like tendencies (order subtype) and borderline autism's regular life
yes the kid is named dave
yes the dog is named jade
ive got no shame bruh
Siramelio
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i commished her a few weeks ago and the story i received was a 10/10 professional like writing.
Haruhitastic
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i'll post that when i finish it off as i like it
but
2,000 words and it doesnt feel done sooOOOOooOOOOOooOOOOOOoOOOOOOoooOOOo shit
Haruhitastic
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HEY WHATS UP HOW'S IT HANGING HOMIES I AM ACTUALLY STILL DOING THIS THING I CALL WRITING but I've not been able to enjoy it very much lately, it's called writing at least 1,000 words a day for someone kind of kills the fun of it.
I can't complain, I'm being paid a hefty sum though!

Allow me to share a couple excerpts of what I've been pecking at. I can't share the full things due to contractual obligations but I've been given permission to share little bits for my portfolio, and that means I'll sneak it in here. :3

It was remarkable to the locals how well 1 Swift Place had survived. In existence since the 1920s, never once did the building fall into disrepair. Nowadays, it was owned by a man named Micheal Edwards, a dark haired twenty-something in a suit who an aspiring entrepreneur, owning various other businesses throughout the area.
But this building was his pride and joy, hands down.
He smiled brightly as he shook hands with a young man no older than twenty-five, with a big smile and perfectly whitened teeth. "Welcome to 1 Swift Place," Micheal said to him. A woman stepped up next to the two, and slipped her hand into the young man's, squeezing it as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Thank you," he replied. "We saw your ad on CraigsList. My name is Jeffrey, and this is my wife Tanya." The woman, who had long, wavy brown hair past her shoulders, flashed him a little grin.
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Tanya said. The three walked together inside the building's foyer, which had been decorated with imported vases and white wood furniture. As they walked through the building, Micheal continued to speak.
"The downturn in the economy has forced some businesses here out of business," he explained. "Currently, I have a nightclub on the ground floor... and, according to your email, you're an artist looking for space?" Jeffrey nodded in response. "Okay, let me show you what we have available."
Micheal showed them throughout the building, opting to speak again as they walked through one of the hallways. "The building was built for meat packing, and also as a bomb shelter. In other words, built Ford tough." The three chuckled softly as they stepped down the stairs, happening onto the next floor. "On this floor, we have two units available -- one fifteen square feet, and the other three thousand."
"What's that?" Tanya questioned, pointing a slender index finger at a big oven-looking contraption.
"That's a smoker, like to smoke meat. Like ham, turkey..." Tanya's eyes lit up.
"Can we take a look?"
"Sure."
Micheal walked the couple over to the smoker, opening the door for them to look inside. The faces of the two looked grim as they peered inside, noting the charred remains inside that had been around for decades. Pulling away, Tanya nervously rubbed at her arms, a look of discomfort settling onto her face.
"Ooookay..." Micheal chuckled nervously as he closed the smoker back up, motioning for them to follow behind him to the first space -- the smaller one.
"Okay, this one is about fifteen hundred square feet."
"This is nice," Jeffrey mused. "I could do a lot in this space."
Nodding, Micheal patted him on the back. "Take your time and walk around, feel it out. I'm gonna go open the next space." Giving a nod to him, Jeffrey wandered around, eyes fixed on the walls and roof above him, taking in the sights. It was pretty fair sized, perfect for the work he was wanting to do.
"This is perfect," he murmured, smiling as he turned to Tanya, who still had a grim look on her face. "The rent isn't bad either."
"Yeah, but..." Trailing off, she reached to hold his hands tightly. "This place was nothing but a slaughter house basically. Nothing but death. A huge ice box with the souls of dead animals."
Jeffrey placed his lips to his wife's temple. "Oh, stop being so worrisome and dramatic," he murmured against her hair. "I need the space, and it's affordable."
"Okay, if you say so."
Micheal came back as the two were walking out of room. Flashing them a smile, he motioned for them to come with him, presumably to the next room.
Sure enough, he waved them through an open door and followed behind. The room was nearly exact to the previous one, with three tall, wide pillars in the middle of the room. "This one is about three thousand square feet."
"Wow, you have a lot of space here," Jeffrey remarked.
"Yes." Taking a few minutes to open the windows, giving them an idea of the view, Micheal turned back. "There's also the third floor which has a room similar to this without the pillars. And on the other side, there's different sized rooms too."
"This room is too huge for me." The owner offered a nod in response. "I really like the other room though. In fact, if you could send me a lease, I would like to look it over and if all is acceptable I would like to move in on the first."
Micheal was beaming as he reached out to shake his hand, then reached for Tanya's. "Will do," he then said, still smiling from ear to ear. "It's a quiet building most of the time. The club currently opens Fridays and Saturdays late in the evening."
"That's fine, those are my family days."
The three stepped outside, and Micheal shook Jeffrey's hand a final time. "Okay, sounds great." The three exchanged smiles, and the couple left off to their car, Jeffrey throwing his hand up and waving as they pulled out and drove away.


Emilie Gates grew up in this town more or less. A Chinese orphan, she was adopted by her parents as a newborn and spent her entire life in the sleepy suburb.
She was never regarded as the prettiest girl in school, for sure. Long, lanky body and legs, with big eyes and a big mouth but petite face. She never wore makeup for fear of accentuating those features, and her acne was dreadful.
She was never the object of any body’s affection due to these little issues, for sure.
The downside of this was all the crushes she harboured on boys, who wouldn't ever pay attention to her. Especially Conner Jones. The hunky wannabe singer who had already penned fifty songs in freshman year. He was the only boy who she ever really wanted to try something with, but she just couldn't ever get the guts to pursue him. He had a girlfriend, a beautiful one named Ellie who fit with him perfectly, and she didn't dare ruin that.
At sixteen, she left to live in China for a couple years. She wanted to learn about her roots and her culture in a way only she could experience.
Coming back to this town was quite the experience, for sure. A lot had changed in such a short span of time, like her favourite pizza restaurant closing, a new Wal-Mart being built, and a couple new red lights.
But Emilie had changed too. She chopped her long, shoulder-length hair to her chin, roughed it up instead of keeping it straight. Her face grew out and matured and her complexion cleared up.
Now, at eighteen, she felt pretty and confident in her body.

When she came back in town, she opted to take a drive to see what all had changed. It had been a long time since she drove her car, a Toyota that was a gift from her parents on her sixteenth birthday.
The sedan hadn't been driven regularly since she left town just a few months after, the brakes were far too soft for her taste, and it probably needed some routine maintenance on top of everything. So off she went to the local garage -- the one her family had been using since before she had even been conceived by her birth family.
She could remember spending many a day in the waiting room, reading "big girl" magazines that talked about makeup and kissing and "sexy stuff," then being scolded by the owner for reading such stuff at a young age.
When Emilie pulled into the garage bay, her eyes lit up as she waved at Mr. Kirk, the big boss of the joint.
But they lit up even more when the mechanic came up to her car.
"Hi ma'am," he murmured, wiping his sweat off his brow with a greasy arm. Emilie bit down on her lip as she looked into those familiar, gorgeous green eyes she remembered from her high school years.
Conner Jones.
"C-Conner?" she stuttered to say, embarrassed as she realised that his name was on his uniform shirt. He surely would think she was some kind of loony, tripping over his name like that for no good reason.
"Yes, that's what's printed on my shirt."
"No, Conner, it's me."
Stupid.
Emilie felt so stupid. They hadn't spoke in so long, especially since their graduation. They had been friends in band class together, and they shared music, but that had more or less been it. Surely enough, Conner shook his head as if to say he was unfamiliar. "I-I'm Emilie," she then replied, tucking her fringe behind her ear. "Emilie Gates."
Conner's eyes enlarged. "I didn't even recognize you, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," she murmured, figuratively breathing a sigh of relief. That didn't go as badly as she thought it had, and that made her feel better.
Conner began by opening the hood of her car and wiping his forehead again. "What seems to be the trouble?" he asked her, turning to speak to her.
"The brakes are a big squishy."
Conner seemed to freeze. Emilie stared at him curiously, watching him as he slipped down under the car and feverishly worked. "I mean, I'm sure I could adjust th--"
"No. It's best to make sure they're in working order. Brakes are the most important part of a car."
She would've made some sort of joke about how she felt it would probably be the steering wheel, but he seemed a bit agitated now. Definitely not the time for it. "Just go ahead and sit in the waiting room, we'll let you know when your car's ready."
Haruhitastic
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bumping up with a quick piece done for a person who ended up canceling the order due to lack of funds. someone's actually wanting to buy this from me so im posting while i still can (so i can update this thread :P)

warning, it's long. 'bout 2,000 words!
(i should mention the first 100 words or so were a collaborative effort between myself and a friend. i was creatively drained and it sounded dull so we spiced it up together!)

Sadie made it a point to start her mornings out right, with a coffee and a pastry from the 7-11 across the way from her apartment, and a mad dash to the college before the bells from the church tower rung, calling for students to get in their class at 9:30 AM.
But something was far different today as she arrived in Stanley Hall. The atmosphere was different. Everyone was quiet and chill, keeping to themselves.
A guy who she had never seen before was in the far back corner, looking at something on his phone, his eyes narrowed. He owned his space like a prisoner on the yard; with broad shoulders, thick, tribal-tattooed muscular arms, and a healthy dose of mystery surrounding him.
Sadie found herself curious where he came from and what he was doing here -- besides learning, anyway.
She took her usual seat, two chairs in front of the new guy's. She felt a bit uneasy with him there, given his stature and appearance; even if she shouldn't have judged him based on his presence.
He looked menacing though, and she felt nervous.
She'd just try to keep her mind off of him for now.
"Sadie!"
A feminine voice called out to her and she looked up, smiling as her best friend came in and sat down next to her. "Who's the new guy?" she questioned. Her best friend, who was a delicate looking Asian girl named Yuumei, had her eyes darted off to the side to take the guy in much like Sadie was. "He seems kind of..."
"Out of place," Sadie finished her friend's statement, punctuating it with a giggle. Her eyes wandered back to the guy, taking in every feature that she could see. Dark hair, green eyes. If he wasn't so scary looking, she'd maybe try to pursue him; although she knew in the end, she had no business or time to pursue anyone. Too busy with school.
The professor came in and explained to everyone that the new guy in the back, Dirk, was a previous drop out who had come back to finish his education. He had "personal" matters to attend to, and was unable to attend class for the past two years.
"I wonder if he was in prison," Yuumei whispered to Sadie. She offered a shrug in response, focusing intently on the professor as he began the lesson. She decided to just pay attention to him, rather than the new boy behind her.

Lunch for Sadie was typically something considered unhealthy by the Heart Association. Pizza, burritos, fries.
Today was pizza, thick with cheese, pepperoni and grease; just how she liked it. She sat off by herself in the cafeteria, browsing Facebook while she ate.
Then he showed up.
He sat down at the bench next to her, a tray with a plate that held the same meal she had -- two slices instead of one. Unlike most people who would haphazardly chew their food, he was practically swallowing it whole; ravenously eating the pie and finishing it in five minutes flat.
Sadie couldn't help but stare, as rude as that was. Her eyes enlarged, and they shifted from his plate to him multiple times before he finally spoke up.
"Is there a reason for you to stare at me?" he said, his eyes narrow. Sadie gulped loudly in response, shaking her head. "Mind your own business."
"I'm sorry," she responded. He turned back to his table, whipping his phone out and looking at it. The phone looked so small in his large hands, almost as if he'd crush it. She sat, continuing to admire his physique. Even as scary as he looked, he was still dangerously attractive thanks to a face full of stubble.
"Why the hell do you keep staring?" he asked, his voice sounding like a roar. "Didn't your parents teach you courtesy and that staring is rude as fuck?"
Sadie gulped loudly, turning back to her plate with her barely touched pizza. She decided now to eat a bit quicker, and get out of the guy's sights. Hopefully he didn't share any more classes with her.

Sadie cringed when she saw the guy in the library. She had to pick up a book for some essays she had due by tomorrow, and work all night on them in hopes to get them done in time.
He was lurking in the small fiction section -- crime novels, specifically, pulling out nearly every book on the shelf. She made it less obvious she was watching him this time by hiding behind a big text book and peering around it's edges when he drew near.
She noticed on top of his stack was a large, heavy book with "FUNDAMENTALS OF FORENSIC SCIENCE" on the spine. She wondered what it was he was studying that required forensic science books. Maybe he was going to be a cop.
Or maybe he was studying it so he knew how to get away with murder.
"Hey, it's you."
His voice was louder than necessary for the quiet library. She jumped in response, dropping the book onto the table. "Are you fucking following me?"
"I could ask you the same," Sadie responded softly, the tone of her voice far colder than she had meant. "This is a library. We stay quiet in it."
"It's only us here, and you don't get to tell me what to do."
A "sssh" noise came from the front of the building, and immediately Sadie shot her new friend a dirty look. He shrugged exaggeratedly in response, dropping his books in the chair near him.
"Why are you reading fiction for forensic science?" she then asked, fixing her eyes on what sat under the text book -- various novels by Kathy Reichs.
"She has a bachelor of arts degree, in anthropology," he replied simply, his tongue not tripping over the long words. Sadie's response was a raising of her eyebrows, at both the revelation and his well-spokenness. "What are you studying, since it's time to be nosy about books?"
With a smile, she glanced up at him and pointed at the diagram in the book -- examples of schematics, and how to draw them up. "Architecture?" he asked.
"Yep."
"That's pretty interesting for a girl." The guy sat down next to her, tugging her book gently towards him so he could get a closer look. "I'm Dirk by the way."
"Sadie." After a few seconds of silence, she giggled. "You don't impress me as a Dirk." In her mind, she added onto her statement that he impressed her as a dick, but kept it to herself.
"You don't look like a Sadie."
"Guess our names don't match our appearances at all."
"Do people make jokes with your name?" Dirk questioned. Sadie looked at him curiously in response. "Well, you're very thin. Do people call you Slim Sadie?"
She stared at him, blinking in response to his joke. He was chuckling, but stopped when he spotted her confusion. "Slim Sadie... Sim Shady... like the rapper."
"I don't listen to rap," she said.
"I don't either. All I listen to is metal."
"Kind of assumed that, to be honest."
"Appearances can be deceiving," he then said.
Sadie saw Yuumei hanging around up front, talking to the librarian excitedly and waving her hands. She knew Yuumei and the librarian that usually worked at night were close, but was unsure what exactly was going on.
If Yuumei saw Sadie and the "bad boy" chilling together, she'd be flipping out, or even worse -- begging Sadie to "go for him."
He seemed nice enough, but the way he carried himself was worrying. With so much machismo, Sadie wondered if he really was in prison, or was overcompensating for a bad childhood. Whatever it was that psychologists said pseudomasculinity was for.
Yuumei drifted off, and Sadie and Dirk stayed in the library, studying in communal silence. Every so often they'd exchange glances, but for the most part they'd focus on their work.
They stayed until midnight, and then abruptly, Dirk stood and made his way to the door to leave. Sadie watched him all the while, keeping her eyes on him until he shut the heavy door behind him.
What was it about him that had her curiosity so piqued? He was just some average guy, with the only difference being some tattoos. Nothing special about him...
But in her mind, something was very special about him.

Dirk McFarge was a typical guy, more or less. He enjoyed lifting weights with his pals and working on cars. Tattooing his body and making it more and more his own was also something he enjoyed. With fourteen tattoos and counting, he seemed quite addicted.
When his cell phone rang, ruining the silence of his room, he sighed. It was bad enough that Sadie chick seemed to be following him. He wanted just a quiet evening, but now it was gone.
It was his dad, once again. He swore to God, Satan, Buddha, whatever was out there, that he'd give anything to just be alone for a few minutes. Away from everyone, alone with only his thoughts.
With a grunt, he answered the phone. His father was drunk once again, rambling about something that Dirk really didn't care about. NASCAR, or something.
He resented his father so much. His parents divorced when he was young and his mother didn't care to take him in with her, so he was stuck living with his drunk, abusive father.
When he got to college, it was a life saver. He was finally free of his father, four hundred miles away from his fists.
Except for the phone. He'd call almost all the time, asking Dirk how he was -- usually drunk. And usually talking about some bullshit that Dirk really didn't want to hear about.
He briskly said goodbye, saying he was working on an essay, and hung up. He wanted to scream, but with people in the dorms near by, he didn't dare. He'd just keep it to himself and get it out next time he had to beat someone up for showing their ass.

The next evening, Sadie stopped by the library again -- mostly for pleasure, but she was curious if she'd spot Dirk again. Maybe since he had gotten his fill of books he didn't need any more. Or perhaps he was done with the books he had gotten, and was going to return them.
Either way, Dirk didn't show his handsome face, much to Sadie's dismay. She sat in the library alone for most of the evening, save for Yuumei stopping by to check on her, insisting that she hung out in the library far too much and that she should get out and talk to people.
Sadie really wasn't a fan of people. She had a couple friends, but that was really it. She just wasn't the go out and have fun kind of girl.
All of her other friends were, though. They hung out in the fraternity houses and played around with the boys in both senses of the word. Meanwhile, she'd just hang in the library or the the cafeteria.
Right as the library was about to close up for the evening, the door swung wide and hit the wall forcefully.
Sure enough, it was Dirk.
The librarian shot him a look that screamed "go to hell," but he seemed oblivious to it. He was just busy rushing to the back, breezing past Sadie on the way.
She watched him as he looked through the same section he had been in yesterday, piling more Kathy Reichs books in his arms.
"You couldn't find anything in the ones you had before?" she decided to ask, her voice soft. Dirk glanced over his shoulder.
"What are you doing here, Slim?"
Sadie arched her eyebrows in response to him, partially confusion and partially curiosity why he had decided to call her that. "Same thing you're doing. Getting books to read for school."
"I finished all those other books."
"Wow," was her simple response. It wasn't sarcastic, either. She was genuinely impressed he had managed to read all of them so fast. It had to have been a pile of at least fifteen.
Maybe he was just trying to impress her; that's what she thought. He definitely didn't impress her as a reader, that's for sure.
He looked like he had been beating someone up a while ago. His knuckles looked bruised and he had a black eye, but seemed fine besides that. Sadie wanted to ask, but she kept it to herself for now. It wasn't her concern in the end.
"You're still doing the staring thing," he said briskly, pulling out two books and tucking them under his arm. "You should learn not to do that."
"I'm sorry."
"Clearly you're not, you keep doing it."
Sadie opened her mouth, yet shut it immediately before she could speak again. He was right, she kept staring; and she honestly had no idea why. He was attractive, yeah; but that surely wasn't the only reason she was so intrigued by the tattooed lad.
"Why do you have so many bruises?" she asked after a few moments. "Are you okay?"
"Why do you think it's your concern?"
Sadie shut her mouth tightly again, turning back to her book. "You need to mind your own business, Slim. Learn to speak when spoken to, or something."
Sadie's eyes watched him as he stormed out the door of the library, not even bothering to check the books out he had in his hands. He was, however, correct. She did need to mind her own business.
He was an odd one, and as curious as she was to find out about him, she'd just keep to herself. No use in disturbing him.

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Sea
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this is far better than any book i've read

clap yo hands
Haruhitastic
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claps my hands and thanks you for your compliment!!
Winterflurry
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and to think TFM had enough great writers
Haruhitastic
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"Land whale!"
"Fatty!"
"Blimp!"
All of these terms were words I was so used to hearing -- at least once a day, twice if they felt generous; all echoing through the halls as I walked.
Most of it came from the football team. They were big, but in the good way -- broad shoulders and thick thighs, with muscle underneath, rather than fat. I wasn't so lucky. Shortly after I hit that magical time called "puberty," I developed something called polycystic ovarian syndrome and ballooned well into the 200 with my tonnage. I could do nothing to lose it, no matter how much or how little I ate or how much I ran or anything. So I just gave up.
When I came to this new school, the football team all immediately took to bullying me. Calling out insults, tripping me in the halls; the stereotypical bullying that you'd see in cheesy teen movies and books. I felt like I was living in a fictional world thanks to this.
The boy who was the worst was the captain of the football team. The quarterback or whatever they called it; hell if I knew, I didn't follow sports. I just knew he was the dumb jock who the other dumb jocks followed around.
He was the cruelest. He'd steal my lunch if I left it unattended, then insisted I didn't need it and to "work off of my storage tanks."
I always wondered to myself why they acted this way. Nearly every child went through a "chubby" streak growing up, who were they to assume I was any different?
Today was no different. The captain, who I had picked up was named Josh, was pointing and laughing at me as I stood at the salad bar. I wanted to turn around and flip my tray onto him, but I was hungry and didn't want to sacrifice my meal.
I noted how empty the cafeteria was and found myself curious as to why. No physical education today, that wasn't until Friday -- or so I thought. I wasn't sure.
Taking my seat at my usual table in the back, my eyes scanned my environment. The sky was increasingly darkening and the lighting in the cafeteria was slowly disappearing due to it.
"Shit, the storm's moving in, isn't it?" I heard someone ask.
"It wasn't supposed to be here for another day," said someone else, in response I assumed.
Then it clicked with me.
They surely were talking about the hurricane that was moving in off the coast. It was rare for us to deal with them, and when we did it was a state of mass hysteria. Most of the class was probably already packed up and heading as far inland as they could. My family had just put plywood on our doors and decided to, in their words, "hunker down and let it hit."
But I wasn't feeling so safe in that regard. I begged them to let us stay in the shelter, knowing that our house would be unable to withstand the power of the wind and rain and potential tornadoes that might brew. They told me I could hang at the shelter if I wanted, but they'd make sure the house was safe. I was unsure if that would be less or more nerve-wracking for me in the end.
I heard further mumblings in the school about how bad the storm would be, and such. Josh and his dumb jock pals were off at their usual table, talking whatever it is those kind of people talk. I heard him mention something about his parents being out of town and him being alone at the shelter, which made me cringe. Complete lack of supervision and he could say or do whatever he wanted? I didn't want to deal with it, and now I found myself thinking about just duking it out at home with my family.
Lunch ended as quickly as it began, and we all went to our respective classrooms. Luckily for me, my next class was completely void of any football players, and therefore void of any insults.

The storm did indeed move in much quicker than expected. By the time I finished my study hall at 2:00, the wind was already rattling the aluminum roof of our building. It sounded like hell, and I'm sure if I were to step outside it'd feel like it too.
The principal told us that they were canceling school for the rest of the day, but he then stated that we wouldn't be able to leave, and that we'd be stuck in the gym until the worst of the storm blew over.
Just what the hell I wanted, to be stuck in close quarters with the jock brigade. I wanted to let out a really loud scream, but kept to myself as the principal droned on about safety precautions. I could just sleep most of the day and night and avoid it. Or maybe I could hide in the bathroom.
I was too busy focused on my plan of action to realise that the principal had told us to gather our things from our lockers while they set up cots for us. Someone who I had only seen once in the school, an Asian girl with a big nose, pulled on my shirt to let me know that's what we were doing and finally dragged me back to the real world and towards our lockers.

Everybody and everything was situated in the gymnasium. The cots were simple, metal frames and white linen. I felt bad for the girls who would've been on their periods, especially if they experienced problems in the night and had to ask a teacher for assistance.
I picked one all the way off in the corner, just like my seat in the lunchroom and really my seat anywhere. I set my backpack down on it, then pulled out my cell phone to tell my parents what was going on -- even though they were likely well aware already. I heard a laugh from one of the jocks, loud and raucous, and I wondered if they had made some sort of joke about me breaking the bed. That seemed to be their typical level of jokes, anyway.
I spotted Josh out of the corner of my eye, picking the cot next to mine. I felt uneasy about this, but what could I do? I couldn't be picky about it. It was a natural disaster, after all, and probably somewhere under the tough guy exterior he was panic-stricken.
I glanced at him while I texted my family. He seemed a bit nervous; biting down on his lip as he looked at his own phone and fidgeting. I wondered if I should talk to him, but I didn't want to risk more insults. I usually just ignored him most of the time.
But then, I heard sniffles, and my conscience kicked in; and with a gulp, I asked, "is something wrong?"
His face tightened a bit as he glanced over and realized that he was softly crying, and I watched him as small teardrops slipped from his eyes.
"It's fine," he gruffly replied.
"Obviously not if you're crying."
"Really, it's fine."
Grimacing, I turned back to my phone, only to hear his stifled sobs once more. "Okay, I know you and I get along like a rat and an exterminator but I'm not gonna sit here helpless, listening to you cry. So if you need to talk or something, just go for it." Silence came from the other end, which I fully expected. "Obviously, I'll be here all night. So..."
"I'm just worried about my family," he then managed to say, after about four minutes or so passed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't meet his gaze. I was still a bit untrusting of it. "Like. I don't know where they are right now. They're not texting me."
"I'm sure it's fine," I replied, my voice a mutter. "Where were they supposed to be?"
"Texas," he said. "Like Irving or something."
"The storm is no where near there." I was honestly unsure where the hurricane was at this rate, but maybe if I calmed his worries, he'd leave me alone for a bit when this was all said and done with. "So they're probably just in an area with no service."
"Yeah, I guess."
We fell silent once more, but I could still feel his eyes fixed on my form. Either taking it in to make fun of me or just in general, I was unsure. "You're not that bad for a fatty," he murmured.
"It's a health condition, you know," I snapped in response, my lips curled into a snarl like I was a dog and he was my next meal. "It's a side effect of a condition I've had since twelve."
"Oh."
"So it's not like I'm fat on purpose or eat forty pounds of food a day."
"I never meant to imply that."
I sighed. I shouldn't have pushed further, or even said what I did; but it was too late. I couldn't take it back. "I'm very sorry for how I've talked to you. It's just a status thing. All the other guys made fun of you, so I did too to fit in and to look good to them. I feel bad for that."
I didn't trust it. We had only spoke for a few minutes just now, and very little before that. How could he suddenly be so friendly to me?
"You don't have to accept my apology, but it's something that's been on my mind for a while."
I nodded, sitting in the silence between us and scrolling my phone. Maybe he was actually being genuine about it, or maybe he was trying to fake me out.
It seemed so very odd, and trying to process the goings on were stressing me out. I just opted to stay quiet for the rest of the time before they served us dinner, letting his words sink into my brain.

When dinner happened, they served us some cold pizza from today's lunch. I opted to just take one slice, but I noticed Josh took two.
Why was I so caught up in this? Why did it matter to me how many pieces he took, or the fact that he even existed? I grumbled and pulled at the cheese, biting it slowly.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Josh. Of course. I offered a shrug in response to him, hoping that my nonchalant responses would scare him off. But nothing.
"You don't hate me, do you?"
"Why should I like someone who has insulted me my entire time in the school?" I retorted. "It's illogical, and it's probably a trap."
"I can get why you feel that way," he mumbled, his mouth full with pizza. I tried to ignore the crudeness. "And it's fine. I just wanted to get an apology out there. We don't have to be friendly, but there's really no need for us to fight. I'll tell the team to lay off you too."
"Apologizing doesn't make what you were doing right, you know."
"I know that. I'm not dumb." I chuckled inwardly, resisting making a joke about stupid sports players. "But I'm hoping that by extending the olive branch, maybe things will be better."
I nodded, turning towards my plate. He was right, in the end; and it seemed stupid to fake an apology just to make fun of me. I was being far too paranoid.
A little bit of friendship would've been fine.

We found ourselves bonding the rest of that evening, even as the storm raged so loud we could barely hear ourselves. We laughed, shared music, and had a great time.
And when the storm was over and the aftermath was cleaned up and everyone was safe and sound, we still hung out, and became something far more than that.
And I noticed that after that, the team truly did lay off me. There were no more peeps of "fatty" or "pig," no more oinking noises and no more cases of theft when it came to my lunch.


A piece I mentioned I was going to post yesterday. Done as a sample for a job.
Sea
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#17
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the football team is being cruel abort abort

fascinating piece gonna read all of that tomorrow good job
Secretive
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why haven't u written me a love letter yet which breaks apart my happy marriage with our scandalous affair.

Dernière modification le 1442957820000
Mezar
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#19
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Keep up the good work :)
Haruhitastic
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Secretive a dit :
why haven't u written me a love letter yet which breaks apart my happy marriage with our scandalous affair.

dear aewing,
screw the heck off ted's mine

yours, haru

Mezarbekcisi a dit :
Keep up the good work :)

tysm mezaaaaaaaaar <3
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