Critique for Gigi (Skylar may or may not format later)

Lol what happened to “I will get this done quickly” turns out sixth form life decided to life on me and now i’m being intensely chased up about my UCAS. Fun times. Anyways!! I will try and critique this as much as I can but please bear in mind it has been about a year and a half since I last did english lit somewhat seriously so the critique and analysis might be… eh :sob: OH WELL. This is mainly just comments because it turns out I cannot analyse poetry. Whoops.

Poem 1
OKAY OKAY OKAY first thing that strikes me with this poem is the rhyme scheme. I really like that you’ve found words that rhyme (or half rhyme) since I don’t see that much in SWC poetry! But aaaaa-

I really like the bit where you break the line mid-word on “hard-panelled”, it really feels like the speaker of this poem has just stopped for a moment and it’s really effective! This lowkey feels like I poem I could have analysed in school for my GCSE so aside from that I have no further comments. I really like this poem!

The only thing that’s confusing me is the last stanza - I’m not really sure what this bit is about but it could just be the brain atrophy of not doing English anymore. :’)

Poem 2
Okay I love this poem! It’s short and it’s sweet and I think it’s really effective this way! I’m kind of struggling to see the link to the theme of this collection, and despite reading your notes, I am still utterly confused :’)

I do like the imagery in this poem. It’s great.

Poem 3
I hate to break this to you but I never studied Hamlet so I don’t think I can give you a decent critique on this poem - I’m sorry I don’t have the background knowledge necessary to make a good and helpful comment on this, so it’s probably best if I skip over it.

Poem 4
This poem I think is a bit more understandable in the message it’s trying to get across, especially the line about “ill-fitting clothes”. I think that line is really powerful in linking this poem to the general theme of this collection, probably because it’s so blunt and there’s not really anything fancy going on.

I think I’m very confused by this poem in general though - I can see how it links to the context you’ve given, but again, I’m missing a lot of subtext and context here that I don’t have as a cis girl :’)

Poem 5
Okay I can see how this links to the context! It took me quite a bit of time to figure out what this poem was trying to say and I had to ponder it for quite a bit ahaha~ I really like the dramatic imagery you used here, but like many other poems in the collection, I find it a bit confusing to understand :’)

Poem 6
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA I like this one. I really like the use of changing pronouns throughout the poem, and how it deals with the topic of identity. I think the way the poem flows feels really natural and I like the way you structured it. It’s easily readable and what you’re trying to express here is really clear.

Poem 7
SHORT AND SWEET and I love how clear it is. I think with all your other poems, you’re using a lot of poetic techniques which I don’t have the analytical brain for :’) however this one links really clearly to the context of the poem, since there isn’t really anything fancy going on here. I don’t think this needs any changes since it gets the point across perfectly!

Poem 8
Again. Absolutely stunning poem. I like how you use the comparison of war and battlefields for soldiers and trans people, and it links really well to the context you gave. I really like the last line too, and it leaves a good question in the mind of whoever's reading it. I think this might be my favourite poem out of the collection.

Overall
I really liked this poetry collection, although I found the first five poems a bit confusing since there were so many metaphors and allegories I probably didn’t see. And also not studying Hamlet definitely restricted the amount of critique I could do You are not required to change the poems to be more readable - this is just my view as someone who refused to take English Lit beyond GCSE.

You should be really proud of yourself though, this is an amazing collection and sure to impress the judges. Even though I couldn’t read into much of the subtext in these poems, I hope I helped you!

No Man’s Land

1993 words

Contains mention of war, d3ath, gore etc

I leant my head against the sodden walls of the trenches, bullets whistling overhead. Shells exploded, distant thuds echoed through the air. Tears stung in my eyes. It was Christmas. I should be home right now, exchanging presents with my wife, my children. I tried to wave the thought away as I swallowed a lump in my throat. Any thought of my family felt like an iron hand clenching around my heart.

My ringing in my ears grew to a crescendo of exploding shells and clashing bayonets. I took a shaky breath in and hugged my arms around my chest in a desperate attempt to prevent the numbness bleeding through me.
And then…





Silence.


The sort of silence that feels deafening. Not a single sound could be heard. Not the fervent whispering of soldiers, not the terrified shouts from the battlefield, not even the scuffling of rats. A few of the men surrounding me were starting to glance cautiously over the top of the trenches. A strange sort of confusion started to drown out the pain and grief I had felt mere moments ago - a desperate spark of hope lit me up. Was it finished? In time for Christmas?

I hauled myself up the dripping walls of the trenches. Soldiers stood silently, facing each other, nervous smiles glowing on their faces. The battlefield was still the same dismal, grey place. But against it all, you could feel the anticipation buzzing in the bitter December air.

A sweet, lustrous sound began to fill the air. Something I hadn’t heard for so long. Singing. It started off quietly, only a few people, in a language that I recognised but didn’t know. German. They were singing. The music began to intensify, voices building layers of harmony. I could feel myself joining along to the familiar tune of the carol ‘Silent Night.’ It was… magical. After all these gruelling months of fighting, shivering at night in the fear of your looming death, watching your friends keel over in front of you, watching their eyes glaze over, we were finally coming together.
A flicker of warmth ignited in me as the song spread through the English trenches, as I saw the men beside me lift their heads, close their eyes in the peaceful bliss of the mellow melodies.
For the next few hours, we all just stood there and sang, until the final hymn grew softer and softer until it ebbed away. Ripples of excited chatter began to spread throughout the trenches.

I glanced at a few of the men who were stood around me, clustered in small groups. I tentatively made my across to some of them, picking my way around snoring soldiers and scurrying rats that nibbled at my frayed uniform. They nodded at me as I joined their little group.
“Hello, Tom,” one of them sighed. One of my only friends left here - David. He gazed at me in hopelessness. “That was… beautiful. But I just can’t carry on like this.”
His voice cracked in pain.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, trying to hold back my own pain. I had to stay strong. I smiled weakly at him.
“Do you want to go up and see what’s going on? In No Man’s Land?”
He nodded at me.
“Ok.”

No Man’s Land. Lulls you into a false sense of security, lies to you, comforts you. A place that belongs to no one. A place that belongs to everyone. A place that belongs to itself.

I hauled myself up the ladders that lined the trenches. The battlefield was cloaked in darkness and the sky was glittering with a cacophony of stars. I winced at the shadowed sight of bodies. I tried to force my gaze away from them, but I was completely fixated on the glassy eyes that would never see the sky again, on the trails of crimson that adorned my boots.
I peered into the distance. Dark figures slowly became more detailed as we approached closer and closer, until I recognised the faces of people who looked exactly like us. Powerless. I could see myself mirrored in each of them, the steely mask that they covered their biting agony.

My eyes roamed around them. They were all huddled together, whispering to each other quickly. Some of them had furrowed brows, drawn together in confusion, but some of them had anxious smiles on their faces and elated voices.
I noticed a soldier who was curled up on the battlefield, clutching the hand of who was presumably once his friend. His grief carved lines in his face, which was pale and ghostly. I looked back at David before I started making my way over to the man.

He clawed at his face and let out a raw, unearthly scream.
“Why?” He asked, his voice harsh and broken. “Why?”
I couldn’t bear to watch the torment darken his face anymore. I rushed over and tore his hands away from his cheeks, which were now peppered with scarlet blood. He jumped away from me and looked me up and down, and began backing away, his eyes widening in terror.
“Du bist Englisch!” He cried at me. “Du bist böse!”
I shook my head at him.
“No, no, I want to help.”
He simply backed further away and stared at me intently, as though trying to understand me. He then let out a deep, pained sigh and collapsed onto the ground in resignation.
“Dann töte mich.”
His voice was devoid of any hint of hope, joy, life. It was… empty.

I looked at him, then at his friend whose sandy hair was splayed around his face, his skin eerily white. He gazed blankly upwards towards the inky dark sky.
I wrapped my arms around my chest as my body shivered in the bitter night air. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. We just stood there anxiously, our gazes flitting around cautiously.
I rummaged around in my pockets and my fingers caught on a crumpled wrapper. A small smile quirked at my lips as I pulled out a cracked bar of chocolate. My parents sent me one every week. It was a tiny burst of sweetness and joy amongst the darkness. I broke a row off and offered it to the soldier.
He glanced up and saw the melted chocolate in my hands. He grinned and took it gratefully from me, nibbling off a corner. I then broke off a chunk for myself, closing my eyes as the rare thick sweetness flooded my mouth.
“Danke. Danke.” He thanked me, clasping my hands in his. “Ich bin Karl.
I shook his hand. “I’m Tom.”

As I was swallowing my last treasured piece of chocolate, I heard an echoing cheer rise up from behind me. I nudged Karl and nodded my head in that direction. Both the Germans and English had organised a football match. The game had just begun, and a frozen football was being hurled around a pitch formed of pieces of debris. Joy flooded through me. I caught Karl by the arm and dragged him over towards the pitch, laughing as we stumbled over the hard frozen ground of No Man’s Land. I spread my coat over the ground and patted the spot beside me.
I melted onto the ground, my body relaxing as the coat cushioned my weight. Karl lowered himself down slowly, and I heard a small sigh of contentment escape his lips. I handed him another piece of chocolate and we began to watch the game. The soldiers’ pained, grief-stricken faces were starting to mellow into expressions of nervous happiness.

Karl looked at me curiously.
“You… English,” he said in stunted English. “But you kind?”
I nodded at him. We shared a look of confused elation. In his eyes I could see the lingering pain from the shroud of death the hovered over him, but also the glimmer of hope the lit them up.
Maybe the next few months wouldn’t be so bad, after all? Maybe the war had finally stopped. Maybe I would be able to go home for Christmas.

No Man’s Land. A warm shoulder to lean on. A place of peace. A place where people can come together. A place where nothing and everything matters.

Pale winter light flooded into my vision. I blinked sleep out of my eyes.
“Karl?” I croaked.
“Tom.” Came the thickly accented reply.
It was the morning. Soldiers, German and English, were either sleeping peacefully on the ground or clustered in small groups, chatting quietly. An unfamiliar sense of peace hung in the air. The ghostly, white sun painted streaks of gold and pale pink across the clouded sky.
People were beginning to rouse, and a cacophony of voices began to fill the space. Those same daggers of fear were beginning to pierce through the warm cloak of safety that had been draped over my shoulders over the past day. It was going to be over. Maybe in a few hours. Maybe in a few minutes.

I wrapped my arms around Karl. I remember snippets of chatter between us, moments when we leaned on each other’s shoulders, when we laughed together over the course of the night. I felt like I had gained a true friend within less than a day. And I couldn’t bear to lose him.

That was when I heard the first gunshot. It shook the ground, and immediately a tense silence fell over us. Karl sprang to his feet, his frail body immediately shrinking in fear, his legs trembling, like when I first met him. I could feel my own body shaking, and I sucked in a wobbling breath. Then there was another. And another. The Christmas Truce was over.

A strangled cry startled the silence. Karl.

I turned around, my heart thundering in my chest. I stumbled backwards.
Karl was lying motionless where he was standing just a moment ago. I rushed to his side and pressed a hand to his cheek. Already cold. No. He couldn’t be. We only had one night. Not now. Not ever. I let out a raw scream. He was gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. The grief was immediately drowning me in a bottomless ocean. I couldn’t carry on any more. Karl was dead.

Dead.

“Karl.” I murmured. “Why did you have to go?”
I smoothed his hair around his sunken face, gently closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. I reached into my pocket and took out the chocolate. I nudged a piece into his icy hands, and put the rest in his coat pocket.
“Good luck.” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”
I turned my back on him, forcing myself not to look back. I couldn’t. It would break me. I was already broken.

Then I felt the bullet whistling towards me in the air. I didn’t even have time to react. I felt it lodging deep into my back. I felt my legs buckling, my body crumpling to the floor. I crawled desperately towards Karl, my muscles already beginning to shut down, not responding. I clawed at Karl’s coat and dragged myself next to him and took his hand. I looked up at the sky. The sun was escaping behind the threatening clouds, as though it knew I was dying. I smiled. I could finally get free of this prison, this hellhole.

My last thought was of my family, my wife’s round, grinning face lulling me to sleep, my children laughing and skipping in our garden. Then the darkness began to embrace me, its cold fingers dragging me away from the world. I accepted it and settled into its chilling caress and let myself be swallowed by the darkness.

No Man’s Land. In the end it was a haven for exhausted soldiers, but it became a battlefield all too soon. A place of friendships. A place of deaths. A place of war.

✪ Daily Task 25: Character Steal Daily ⊹ ₊

Note: I had a hard time finding a character that gave me BIG ideas. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVED all the characters but I wanted to try and be able to do the poor character justice. SO I chose Merry Chris Smith by Chuey! I think I had the most ideas for Merry so let's hope I didn't mess this up!

Character Blurb by Chuey - “In the day, Merry Chris Smith is your average highschooler; also in the day but after school, she's…still Merry Smith – your average aspiring sleuth. Merry is upbeat and curious, and always looking out for what might be her next case (finding the car keys don't count), but when a real mystery lands in her lap, things get a little sticky. Setting is a semi-futuristic city, and for those of you who want an extra twist, ladle a good dose of satire in”

Merry is just walking home from school, but she can tell something is off. That could be good. She really needed a case. This time not a missing hairbrush or car keys. A real case. When she walks through the front door immediately hears from the kitchen-
“Merry! Is that you?”

“Yes, mom!” Merry replies, as she slides her shoes off and heads to take her backpack upstairs to her room, but her mom’s next words stop her in her tracks:
“You have a letter, sweetheart!”

“Oh?” Merry was interested now. Could this be what her strange feeling was about? Could this be her moment? Her next case? Merry slid into the kitchen on her socks and almost hit the counter.

“Whoa there, Mare bear. Slow down before we have to send you to the hospital” her mother cautions light heartedly and hands over the letter to Merry. She immediately ripped the letter open and found… bills? Her face fell. Not a case. Okay, fine. Maybe next time. Merry plodded off, heading upstairs.

“Oh wait!” her mother called as she realized that she’d given Merry the bills and not her letter. She took the bills from poor Merry and gave Merry her letter. “Sorry, dear. There you go”

With hope restored, Merry sprints upstairs with her bag, calling a quick “I love you” to her mother. Merry hardly waits to sit down at her desk before ripping open the envelope like a present on Christmas morning. She felt her heart beating abnormally fast as her eyes scanned the page. The letter read:

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Dear Merry Chris Smith,

We received your application to help solve a case at the station and we admire your bravery. We have decided to accept your application. On that note, in your application you put “I will solve any case you have available and we were wondering if you’re still open to that. The case we had in mind was a missing persons case. If you accept, please arrive at the station by 5pm this Friday.

Sincerely, Detective Mark
────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

» — ⋙ 344 words total ⋘ — «

YEEHAWLIA || 360 words || Daily No. 25
(note: I uh don't really know what I was doing with this sob but it's fine)

It was another fine day at the Yeehaw Ranch, and Yeehawlia was just waking up. Her ears twitched as she looked out the window, where the sun was just beginning to rise. “Yeehaw!” she said. “This sure is a nice day.”
After putting on her cowboy outfit, Yeehawlia went downstairs to make some breakfast. It was a generic bacon and eggs breakfast, but no toast, because wolves don't really eat toast and also there was no toaster oven (it's the Wild West, y'all.) Then Yeehawlia went to go read some history books, because Yeehawlia loved history.
(There were probably chores to do, such as herding cattle, but we're conveniently ignoring these for the sake of the nonexistent plot. So there.)
Yeehawlia's favorite historical period was the American Revolution, and she also enjoyed reading about eras that were technically in the future. But, although these events hadn't happened yet, Yeehawlia had history books about them. Why? Nobody knows. Cowboy magic or something.
After that Yeehawlia went to go ride off into the sunset (yes an entire day had passed, yes that's totally logical) on her favorite horse. The horse existed for no reason other than to be ridden into the sunset so it doesn't have a name. Yeehawlia tilted her head back, ears pricking as she watched the crimson sun descend. This was her favorite time of day, when the sun's dying rays stained the Texas plains scarlet. It also made for a very dramatic scene. All the best dramatic scenes happen at sunset.
After she finished watching the sunset, Yeehawlia turned around and went back to the Yeehaw Ranch. “Yeehaw,” she said, getting off her horse. “I had a great day today.”
Yeehawlia put the horse back in the stable and went inside to make dinner. However, she really just wanted more bacon so she made bacon and eggs again. Breakfast for dinner reigns supreme.
After this Yeehawlia put on cowboy pajamas, brushed her fur, and read some more history before going to bed.
The end.

Daily #25 - using someone else’s character
My character: Sage (@babyoda1546) -

(I came up with this on the fly) || Quinn Spades || she/her || Quinn is 17-years-old and she lives under the roof of her mother’s apartment in California (somewhere around Needles, CA maybe???). Her family consists of her mom (Melissa Spades), her little sister (Fae Spades), and the mainly absent father (we don’t talk about him). As far as her mother knows, she’s a mainly steady teen who’s planning to major in psychology and actuarial science (Quinn is also currently taking College Credit in high school and she’s a senior btw). Quinn works at a fast food joint during the day and sometimes at nights she “goes to friend’s houses” (gambles) to help her mother pay rent. Her favorite games are poker and blackjack.

496/300 words
Note: I’M SORRY SAGE I SUCK AT WRITING *sobs* Also, this is more like a very VERY unedited beginning to a story rather than a whole thing with an established plot line and everything, so just be aware <3

“Hey mom, I’m home!” I say as I walk through the door, throwing my keys in the bowl on the kitchen table before walking into the living room to see where my mom is. “Hey honey!” my mom’s voice calls back, from the direction of her bedroom, “I’m just grabbing something from room really fast.” Just as I’m about to respond, a blur comes flying towards me. “Quinnie!” the blur says. I laugh. “Hi Fae!” Fae giggles. She’s four and has the worst sense of humor ever, as most four year olds do, and she never fails to bring a smile to my face. “I missed you!” she says, making puppy dog eyes at me. “I know Fae, but I need to go to school sometimes too!” She pouts. “Well I wish you didn’t have to go to school.” I smile. “Me too, Fae, but I have to go! Don’t worry, you’ll be going to school soon too!” She giggles again and runs away - probably to grab something. My mom comes out from her bedroom and gives me a gentle hug, squeezing my shoulder. “Hi Quinn, how was your day today?” she asks. “It was fine,” I say, smiling tiredly, “Just long - you know how school is.” “For sure, honey,” my mom says as she gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m almost done making dinner, could you come and set the dinner table?” I do as I’m told, getting out forks, knives, and spoons for dinner. An aroma of lasagna fills the house. “Lasagna! Mom, you shouldn’t have,” I call, finishing putting out the silverware and walking into the kitchen. “I had to honey, I knew that you had a test today and I thought you’d need a pick-me-up.” “Well, thank you!” I grin, “But you really shouldn’t have left work early to do this for me.” My mom’s face falls. “About that- I just got laid off today. I’m so sorry.” she says. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to have a big Christmas this year.” “It’s okay, Mom, I’m sure you’ll find a job soon - and don’t forget, I have my job too!” I say, trying to reassure her. After dinner is served and I wash the dishes, I grab my backpack from school, grab my keys, and call, “Mom, I’m going to my friend’s house tonight to study!” “Okay honey,” she calls back, “Just be sure to be home by 10!” “Of course, Mom,” I say as I walk out the door.

Little does she know, I’m not going to my friend’s house at all. Well, I am - kind of. A kid who goes to my school - his name’s Jacob - has an illegal gambling ring inside of his basement. I go there to help support my mom, since neither her nor my day job really pays enough. I’m honestly surprised I haven’t been kicked out of this kid’s basement, though - I’ve been told I’m quite good at blackjack…

✪ Action Task: Get In AI Tower ⊹ ₊

"What are we going to do?” Agent Elysium muttered to herself as she stared up at the glass skyscraper that was the AI base. How was she supposed to get in? The security was heavy. If she tried to break in, she’d probably die. She couldn't just charge in and she was done with air ducts. They were too cramped. She unslung her backpack from her shoulder and dug through, looking for her laptop. Yes, she had her backpack with her. She had come straight from a college class to be on this mission with her colleagues. She pulled out her device and signed out of her normal, student account and logged into her Agent Elysium account. She went to the blueprints that the agency had sent the group.

“One of us will need to hack or override the system. Maybe there’s some kind of secret door that opens if we have some passcode or something? Or if we just hack it, we could find an entrance?” Sage/Agent Elysium said and dug around in her bag, probably for hacking stuff.

“Well, it appears that I have my USB rubber ducky, lock picking tools, but I don't have my digital forensic tools on me or the flipper zero. I didn’t exactly expect to go straight from class to a mission. Sorry, team. Does anyone else have the right hacking tools with them?”

» — ⋙ 232 words total ⋘ — «

nov '25 fanfiction writing comp entry
11/14-11/27/2025
629 words (with summary)
600 words (without summary)

mismatched shoes title from @magnolia___

5 times clark kent had to cover up his powers and 1 time he had someone to help him; in drabbles.

general superman with a dash of smallville influences~

i.

“do you see it?” pete calls, hands cupped around his mouth.
clark glances around, concentrating on looking further as earthy tones turn to black and white. he scans the forest in x-ray and…

there!

behind a rock, a dozen yards ahead: the football.
clark might have thrown it with more than human force. whoops.

“it's right here, pete!” clark yells back. “it'll only take a second.”
he grabs the football and zooms back just a few yards ahead of pete, walking up towards him.
“i don't know how you can see anything in these woods, man.” pete shakes his head.

~~

ii.

“delivery for a new stand mixer!” clark announces, walking in with one arm wrapped around a large box.

lana stares at him, eyes wide. “hi clark.”

“oh—hi lana,” he grunts and places the box down. “uh, so, ma, where do you want this?”
martha rushes in between them. “well, i think that this can go in the pantry; just set it next to the flour.”
clark nods, making a show of lifting the box with both arms. turning, he adds, “sorry, i can't stay longer to chat, lana. maybe we can catch up later this week?”
she nods, bewildered.


~~

iii.

fiddlesticks! only his second week in, and he's late to work. again.

superman flies over the metropolis skyline and ducks into a back alley. in a colorful whirlwind, he’s changed.

okay.

glasses? check.
suit? not as smooth as he would like it, but check.
press pass? …

press pass!

clark shoves his cape into his briefcase and fumbles to grab his lanyard out. chief was going to kill him for being late to this press meeting, and it's his first real story!
he ruffles his hair and checks his wardrobe one last time before rushing out into the morning crowd.


~~

iv.

“morning, lois!” clark sets a steaming cup of coffee down on her desk, made just the way she likes.

lois glances up, taking a sip and narrows her eyes.
a peace offering. as if she wouldn't notice that he's late. not that she's exempt from being late, but this is late, even for clark kent.

“what's the holdup, smallville?” she can't help but quip, raising an eyebrow.
clark adjusts his glasses. “uhh, superman! he was helping out at an apartment fire and traffic was bad. i got a brief interview with him though!”
“uh huh…” like she'd believe that story.

~~

v.

“ma’am. MA’AM!” clark clutches his lanyard as he speeds across the street to grab a lady's arm, managing to pull her onto the sidewalk before a stream of traffic screeches through.
“oh my!”
he glances over her. “you’re alright, ma’am.” he gives her a final smile before slipping back into the crowd.


“and—okay, this really happened—superman starts to melt the ice! i don’t know if- clark! are you even listening?” lois asks, still bulldozing ahead.
a whoosh of air blows through, branches swaying, and clark adjusts his windswept tie, falling into step besides her. “of course, lois. superman?”

~~

+1

“kent! you're late. i need you on this story with lane, stat!” perry barks.
“got it, chief- uh, perry!” clark smiles, ducking his head as he makes his way through the bullpen to his corner office with lois.

lois yanks the door open. “clark, hurry up! we've got an interview in 15 minutes-” she stops, tugging him inside. “honey… i know this morning was busy, but you could have taken some extra caution.” she adjusts his glasses and tousles his hair. “there.”
she gives him a once-over and sighs upon seeing his choice of footwear.

he was wearing mismatched shoes.

special thanks to luna for her support, encouragement, and peer pressure while writing this, bea for her supervision over character accuracy and being my smallville buddy, and vi for an invaluable last minute critique and helping me get into superman in the first place <3 (along with crim ofc)

Weekly #4
11/30/2025
2193 words

Autumn:
227 words

fanfic of general superman media

"clark, put me down!“ lois shrieks, her nails digging into his superman suit.

he stops flying, but not floating. ”lo, you said you wanted to see trees with leaves so…“ he nods in the direction they were heading.

she snorts. ”just because i said that the trees look bare and that i can’t wait for spring, it doesn’t mean that you can just pick me up and take me to, where? australia?“

”actually, i was thinking of the christmas tree farm,“ clark answers, sheepishly.

lois shakes her head, but smiles. ”turkey's been eaten, and, suddenly, you're waiting for santa to come down the chimney. also, what christmas tree farm do you think you can get close to without anyone realizing that superman has just flown over, huh?“

”so, no christmas tree hunting?“

”well,“ lois starts, adjusting her position in his arms. ”someone forgot that we have to be back from our lunch break in… 30 minutes. i think that the christmas tree will just have to wait.“

”okay then, what about tonight?“

”…fine.“

clark flies them to the alley behind their favorite restaurant. lois flashes him a smile, tugging on his arm to walk in.

“you know,” he whispers as they walk through the door. "the farm does close at 8pm, so we really should leave at 6, 5 if we want to grab dinner.”

lois groans.

Beauty:
212 words

fanfic of an swc fanfic written from the pov of a cow

there's… something fruity hanging in the air.

after hiding out in the neck of the woods for centuries–it's a miracle that i didn't die from hunger out there–we're finally back in civilization. proper food and whole bushes to eat! not just trees that are fun to traverse through, but entirely too big for even me to eat whole.

a familiar scent hits me and it's somewhere near here. something molten sunlight and honey-sweet. it's been far too long since i've smelled such fragrance.

moving towards the waft of air that interests me alone, i shut my eyes and let my trusty nose guide me. traversing across rocks and clumps of dirt and grass isn't nearly as hard when you have a one track mind.

oof!

my nose hits something slimy and mmm! gloriously delicious.

i'm met with ambrosia on earth: splattered mangoes smeared across a cabin.

there must have been a food fight recently. yum!

and if it isn't the most heavenly thing i've seen recently… delicate and tropical and mouthwatering, with just the right amount of wood and pencil lead mixed in to accentuate the sweetness of the mango.

after years away from home… i have finally been reunited with my one true love: the most beautiful mango.

Curse:
226 words

my iteration of the witch from hansel and gretel

dang it.
dang it!
no, no, NO. ughhhh, my arm fell off!

oooookay, back up and let me set the stage.

i'm at school. right?
boring stupid teacher gives us an assignment and it's not my fault that she's droning on for so long that i fell asleep and don't hear all of the instructions for the homework… usually it's not that big of a deal anyways! it was only potion and transformations chemistry!

OW! bird, stop it, please!

so i might have forgotten to add in the salicylic acid into the concoction and that may have resulted in my entire potion combusting, of course. just a typical tuesday, you know?
and the materials that have been put together is just perfectly done so i turn into a living gingerbread man.

now–hey–stop it!

kind of surrounded by a bunch of sugar loving animals so heh. go me. fingers crossed and coins flipped that my boyfriend doesn't come over. he's going to flip out and he loves gingerbread too much. oh, sugar and spice, what am i supposed to do now? if i'm able to concoct an antidote, i should be able to get back to my original shape–with both arms attached?–but woah, the way this cookie crumbles? i'm going to be crumbs before i get to the right chapter of my textbook!

Double:
215 words

fanfic of an swc fanfic from the pov of a cow

it's me?

hold up. wait me?

where's mistress; i'm in distress!

there's a cow. looking at me. that looks like me. a quick sniff is enough to tell me that it–he, she, they????–have consumed mangoes recently. along with something vaguely mechanic. probably a few loose bolts and perhaps the neighbors.

but that's what i do.

(okay, but if i do say so myself, they are a really well looking cow…)

i blink.
they blink.

what am i supposed to do? moo? i hate mooing!
(paige says i make a terrible cow, but sucks to be them, i'm just the most superior cow)

right hoof stomp!
they give me a puzzled look.

hey! wait, where are they going?

i snort, brushing the dirt off of my right hoof as they turn around and start off in a fast trot.

not trotting, ughhhhh-

but whatever, there's a cool cow, so i must follow. cool cow with a weird sense of direction. why are they walking in a straight line across the rocks and cutting across the yard in that way? mistress always says that zigzags are the way to go and they get predators off our tails. but then again, i am not a predator by any means. certainly not against such a handsome cow.

Epiphany:
221 words

superman fic, part of my au inspired by parachute by hayley williams

lois rushes out in the rain, yanking on a coat and pulling up the hood. lex lied to her. to all of them.

she pulls her hands out of her pockets when she gets far enough, away from lex's prying eyes and away from crowds who only want gossip to feed tabloids and don't care anything about lois lane the journalist, only lois luthor the wife. prying the wedding ring off of her finger, she lets it drop, the large stone colliding with the cemented ground.

she doesn't care.

she's been humiliated. in front of the public. in front of and by her husband.

she presses the heel of her hands against her eyes, willing the stinging tears to subside.

lois turns only because she's extra alert and hears a soft rustle.

large jacket, dorky glasses, clean shoes. clark kent. of course, he had to be here during her worst moments.

she hastily brushes the hair out of her face, lately realizing that she's got a hood and turns her back when a blur startles her.

a blur that is clark kent. or rather clark kent that became the blur. magnificent red and blue that she would otherwise marvel at and revert to lois lane, pen and notepad out.

but no. she's only lois luthor, broken.

and he's clark kent, superman.

Fight:
259 words

general superman fic

“jimmy, come on!” lois's heels clip the ground as they chase after him. “you're the one who slipped and now you have to spill.”

jimmy chuckles nervously. “nope, lois. chief is keeping me busy. sorry, i think i have to be… in gotham to get this pulitizer winning picture for this groundbreaking story!” he ducks under her attacking arm, weaving his way through the bullpen and slipping by clark as he comes out of the elevator.

lois narrows her eyes. she'll get him to break.

–

she's found the perfect opportunity. she's heard from good sources (*cough* jimmy's current fling *cough*) that they finished up their date and he's on his way back to work. perfect! she can just corner him when he comes into the bullpen.

ding!

the elevator. that's got to be him.

and right on cue, jimmy olsen walks out of the elevator. lois rises from her desk and pulls him into the nearest empty office.

“lois!” jimmy soves his hands into his pocket.

“olsen,” lois greets dryly. “so, what's this you've said about the office bet? surrounding a ”ms. lane“ and ”ck“?”

“uh, the sports guys talk. you know how steve can get- eep!”

lois slams her hand down on the desk and leans him. “you do know that i know where you live and the numbers of the past three exes that now hate your guts, right?”

“vaugely, yes.” he gulps.

“then,” lois starts, “i think that it is in your best interest that you tell me what the sports guys have been up to.”

Hope:
215 words

endgame canon divergence fic about vormir lol sorry

natasha's arm starts to ache, but she's not able to give up just yet. her muscles are yelling at her and her heart squeezes.

“tasha,” clint breathes, and his breath fogs up in the icy winds of vormir.

she smiles. always thinking of her. even in a time like this. “it's okay, clint.”

she can hear his heart crumble. she smiles anyways. her sacrifice will be worth it. it has to be worth it.

it's her final chance to get the red out of her ledger. one final life changing sacrifice. maybe this is what her life was leading up to. she's causes so much horror in the world and now that she's done some good, it isn't good enough. maybe a living sacrifice is what she was meant to be.

“clint,” she says slowly, if only to savor this final moment with him and him alone. “you deserve them, not me.”

he shakes his head and she knows what he'll say, knows that he'll deny her.

but he wasn't the child assassin.
he wasn't willingly going along with what her superiors told her to.
he didn't have all the red in his ledger like she did.

and her eyes flutter shut, a grin still on her face.

she sees a ledger in all white.

Imagery:
206 words

fanfic of general superman media

the sky is scarlet, the first rays of sunshine tearing through the black curtain, a hodgepodge of deep reds and brilliant golden glow. he breathes in the soft breezes of morning air, the winds fluttering his curls backwards and his red cape rippling. he squints as he turns, the sunlight hitting his eyes directly, but the world seems to be cast in golden film and it's breathtaking.

it's not often he's able to peacefully enjoy a spring morning like this, no cacophony of noise and crime, no chores to attend to at the farm or a rush to get to work. he's able to breathe and watch the sun rise, as the birds get up and flit around, singing their morning tunes to fill the dead air while others are still in bed. frankly, he would like to be in bed about now, warm under the cream sheets and resting besides lois. but it is their anniversary, so he'd like to get his duties of patrolling before he goes off to celebrate.

bruce and the others said that they can take his usual shifts, and he's pretty sure that ollie's glad to sleep in anyday.

he gets up, stretching, and takes one more lap over metropolis.

Joy:
205 words

fanfiction of smallville

“no way! no way!” lois bounces on her feet, grinning. “thank you, clark!” she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes, pulling clark in for a quick hug.
pushing clark away far too soon for his liking, he can't help but smile with her.
“this is like. one hundred percent legit, right? you aren't messing with me?” she has to inquire, hands on her hips, smirking.
clark plays along. “of course not. why would i do that to you? this is ‘one hundred percent legit’. and there are two tickets, so i can go with you.”
she squeals. “you're the best, smallville!” she pulls him over to the couch, sliding next to him. “so, we're totally going to try to get all of their autographs. maybe we can divide and conquer? that'll be the best strategy for sure… and then oh, come on, i have to get you some whitesnakes' merch too! maybe we could match?”
“whatever you say, lois.”
“great! these next two weeks are going to be tediously long, clark! why didn't you wait until later to tell me? okay, i'm already buzzing with anticipation and you're never going to get me to shut up about this!” she pauses. “i have to tell chloe!”

Kindness:
207 words

fanficiton of general superman media

“here you go, miss!” superman hands a little girl her teddy bear, narrowly saving it from a car.

she smiles brightly, flashing him a toothy grin. “thank you, mr. superman!”

he nods, giving her a matching smile, before flying up above the metropolis skyline.

what else is in store for today? he hears three crises at once: a car accident over on 3rd street, a robbery over at the local jeweler's, and, oh, that's just ollie trying to mess with him again.

the robbery seems to be taking care of by the police. car accident, it is!

he flies over in record speed, red cape billowing behind him as he lands.

yikes.

he gets to work, removing rubble and checking in with each of the victims, making sure that they are alright and doing his best to aid them as he could before the emt arrive.

he stays long enough to make sure that everyone is taken care and to help move the cars.

hands covered in grease and hair sweat-slicked to his forehead, he lands on top of the daily planet tower, watching the city lights gleam off of the planet. and he breathes, letting the murmur of the city lull him into a peace.

Unnamed || 1431 words || Lost in Space fanfic

I. June Harris
In a family like hers, there are two options: golden daughter or black sheep.
They always loved her better-
June Harris is the black sheep.

She leans against the doorframe, tired makeup leaking down her cheeks, streaking her face with glittering gold powder. Tired. She’s so tired. Her party dress has collapsed around her, sunny fabric wilting. She imagines it wilting further under the force of Jessica’s glare.
“I got behind on the payments,” June admits, and her sister’s eyes widen in horror. June slumps further. “Mother paid them.”
Jessica launches into a speech, probably about June’s many shortcomings. June isn’t listening.
Why couldn’t she be the perfect daughter? Like Jessica was? Like Jessica always had been?

June sees her new business as economic redistribution. She’s skimming a little money off the top of those who have too much, and giving it to someone who has too little. (Herself.)
Her mother, unaware of the specifics of June’s new work, is delighted with her for perhaps the first time in June’s life. Beaming, she wanders out of sight to explore June’s new fishing boat.
Jessica knows. Jessica always knows. Her sister is a thief, and Jessica is going to tell their mother just how far her daughter has fallen.
Not yet, June pleads. Look how happy she is, thinking both of her daughters are doing well for once. Something like this would kill her.
Jessica doesn’t say anything.
Yet.

June knows why Jessica wants to meet with her. Something has changed. She hasn’t shown any interest in her failure of a sister for years.
Jessica sits across from her, legs crossed, fingers curled delicately around her glass of wine. Her perfect sister, with her perfect posture, on her perfect couch, in her perfect home.
June does not drink the wine.
Jessica’s eyes flick over the wreck that is June Harris, but for once she says nothing about it.
She was accepted to go to Alpha Centauri. To board a spaceship, the glorious Resolute, and fly far away from all of Earth’s problems and pollution. To start a new life on a planet full of green and blue sky, where you could breathe without a mask on outside. Where you could do anything, become anyone.
She is leaving June everything.
“I don’t need it anymore,” Jessica explains, and for once she is actually smiling as she looks at her sister.
“I can live in your house?” June says, eyes widening.
Jessica nods. “Yes!”
“I…can drive your car?” she continues, voice awed.
“Yes,” Jessica says again, smile stretching wider.
“I can wear your clothes?”
“If you want to.”
“I can be you,” June whispers, and for the first time a flicker of uncertainty crosses Jessica’s face.
Jessica opens her mouth, pauses, stares at her wineglass.
The sedative must be kicking in around now. June waits until her sister has slumped over on the couch before flicking out a scalpel. She grabs Jessica’s wrist and turns it over, carefully cutting out her ID chip.
June fully intends to be Jessica.
Just not on Earth.
She goes to the bathroom, applies makeup, adjusts her wig. When she is finished, her sister stares back at her from the mirror.
She leaves Jessica tied up and gagged on the floor. June doesn’t pity her. She’s still got her perfect house and her perfect job and her perfect life.
Now June is about to get those things, too. Billions of miles away, on a paradise planet called Alpha Centauri.

II. Jessica Harris
She is not Jessica Harris for very long.
Those who do wrong always receive their reward.

She hadn’t meant to kill anyone.
Everything was going according to plan. She holds her wrist over the scanner, watches it light up.
She was in. She was in. She was in.
She was on the Resolute, and she was going to Alpha Centauri.
Every step takes her farther and farther away from her bruised and battered record. Every step takes her farther away from her mistakes. Every step takes her closer to freedom.
Arms encircle her from behind. “Jessica! Jessica, wait!”
It’s a man’s voice. A man who knows Jessica. A man familiar enough with her sister to put his arms around her.
This was not supposed to happen. No one was supposed to know. June turns around and kisses him desperately – she couldn’t let him see her face – trying to think of how to get out of this one.
When she pulls away, and he gets a good look at her, his face changes. “You’re not Jessica. Who are you?”
June backs away. “Look, let's make a deal. If you don’t tell anyone, I won’t tell your wife about your terrible taste in women.”
His face creases, voice rising. “Where is she? What did you do to her?”
He grabs her. June struggles, pushes. They knock against the side of the sterile white hallway.
She’s not sure how he ends up in the airlock. The doors open, and he tumbles in.
A countdown begins. The other side of the small, cube-shaped room will open into space in ten seconds.
The man behind the glass begins to reason. Then to beg. Finally he’s screaming, fists pounding against the glass. Hit the button! Just hit the button!
June’s fingers hover over the button that would stop the countdown and release him back into the Resolute.
She does not press it.
The airlock opens.
His screams end.

They have security cameras.
Now she’s seated in a chair. They found her. It’s over. They know her name. They know what she did.
She killed a man.
Then-
Alarms blare. She’s left alone in the room as people rush past, told to stay put.
So June Harris does what she always does when things get heated:
She runs.
She doesn’t stay put. She doesn’t sit quietly in the chair like a good little prisoner. She ducks out into a hallway, trying to navigate. Something’s going on – the alarms are still going off, and other, stranger noises have joined them.
She jerks back as she sees a twisted monstrosity lurch past – what is that thing? – and then she’s running. She’s got to get off this ship.
She finds him, her escape, on the floor, blood staining his lab coat. She kneels beside him. He’s been wounded by one of the metal monsters aboard the Resolute. He’s begging for help.
His nameplate winks up at her. Dr. Zachary Smith.
June doesn’t have access to a Jupiter, a small, portable ship she can use to escape the Resolute. But he does.
She wrestles his coat off, pretending to help.
Then she puts it on.
“Sorry,” June says, and he panics. “You can’t leave me here! You-”
June doesn’t stick around to hear the rest.

She finds a Jupiter. There are two mechanics lounging outside of it; she would bet they don’t have a Jupiter either. They’re as stuck as she was a few minutes ago.
It might be useful to have a mechanic or two with her. June offers to let them escape with her, and the three enter the small spaceship.

III. Dr. Smith
Nobody ever has to know.
She can escape.

The ship does not go far. It crashes on a planet somewhere in the middle of space, cracking in half over a cliff. June and one of the mechanics, the man, tear themselves out of their seats. They scramble to safety as the Jupiter groans, squealing in its death throes.
The female mechanic, they find, is also dead. Her features are bloodied, body limp. The male mechanic pulls her boots off, tosses them to June.
She flinches back, but he picks up a handful of sand, grinds it between his fingers. Dark blood dribbles to the ground. “This stuff is hard as diamonds. It’ll tear right through your shoes.”
It's callous. But survival usually is.
Everything I've done, it's just to keep breathing.
She puts the boots on.

June was destined to be the black sheep from the start.
All she ever wanted was a second chance.
Miles and miles of land all around me. People bring out the worst in me, you know.

When he asks what her name is, she does not tell him June. She does not tell him Jessica.
Instead, she plasters a smile on her face, thoughts already swirling in the back of her mind, plans for how she’s going to get out of here.
“My name is Smith,” she says. “Doctor Zoe Smith.”
And then June – Jessica – Dr. Smith smiles and holds out her hand.

“Good afternoon, your headlines at twelve,” Miranda greeted, with the most serious look she could. This was a news programme, after all.

“Actress Lizzie Lee has announced the creation of a fundraising event for all those affected by the recent floods. Isn’t that nice?” Casey chirped, as she read out the first headline of the programme.

Miranda lightly prods Casey on the shoulder, to which Casey seemed somewhat shocked. “Miranda! What are you doing?” Casey hissed, before turning back to the camera. “Our National Correspondent Kiara Sanchez will be interviewing her later on the show, so that’ll be exciting.”

Miranda continued the readout with a straight face. “Train strikes are continuing all across Sunshine Bay, with the workers’ union demanding better pay and conditions. Transport for Sunshine Bay, Citylink, and Eastern Railway are advising anyone making a rail journey today to check before you travel.”

“And!” Casey interjected, excitement colouring her voice, “twelve-year-old Dylan Zheng has just won the Sunshine Bay National Robotics Competition. He took first place and he’s the youngest ever to do so! I wish I could be him,”

“A recent report also showed that fewer young people have the mathematics skills to succeed in everyday life. We’ll be talking to the Sunshine Bay University Maths Department to see how they’ve been working on fixing the skills shortage.” Miranda added, attempting to bring back the serious tone the news programme was supposed to have.

The introduction music plays, and when the screen cut back to the studio, Casey looked somewhat annoyed and scolded.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine Bay! We, Casey Rasmussen and Miranda Greaves, your wonderful co-hosts and co-newsreaders, will be with you for the next half hour, covering all the top stories from this morning.” Casey seemed to perk up as she began reading the news headline. “Our top story today, Actress Lizze Lee has just announced her fundraising event for those who’ve been affected by the recent floods, to be held in partnership with Resilience Sunshine Bay. Our National Correspondent, Kiara Sanchez, has more! I’m excited for this.”

The scene cut to Kiara, as she stood with the actress under a gazebo. “Good afternoon, Casey and Miranda. I’m here with Lizzie Lee, here to tell us all about her new fundraising event. So, Lizzie, what made you want to start this event?” Kiara moved the handheld microphone over to the actress.

“Oh, so um, you know, people have been affected very deeply by these floods and I wanted to do my part.” Lizzie said, as she attempted to keep facing straight at the camera. “Some members of my family, who like, aren’t as fortunate as me, their homes got flooded, and that made me think very deeply about my connection to the city and its community.”

“And what will be happening at this event?” Kiara asked.

“This event? Oh, um, well, it’ll be on March 3rd and I’m hoping to have it right out here by Marina Bay. We’ll be holding a bit of a concert. I love myself a good concert, and I thought, ‘what better way to raise money than a concert?’” Lizzie explained. “We’ll also have like, um, donation stands, and um, also some food, and there’ll be tons of volunteers, and I hope everyone can come out in support of those who’ve had damaged homes.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot to look forward to. Thank you for your time, Lizzie,” Kiara thanked the actress for her time, before moving back to face the camera.

The scene cut back to the studio, where Kiara and Casey were clearly bickering.

“You,” Miranda hissed, “need to learn how to keep a straight face. This is a NEWS SHOW, Casey. You need to be serious.”

“But it doesn’t hurt to crack some jokes, right?” Casey asked. “I mean, news shows are normally quite boring, so-”

“No. Humour.” Miranda stated, as seriously as she could. She was also clearly annoyed.

“Yeah, but-!” Casey started, before being interrupted by the producer.

“You’re on air!” A faint voice could be heard shouting from off camera.

Miranda immediately straightened up, looking clearly embarrassed at her argument being caught on camera. “My sincere apologies for my colleague and her actions,” Miranda said, apologising to the camera. “And to you, as well, Kiara.”

In the background, Kiara was trying to compose herself. “Don’t worry about it,” Kiara said, somewhat smiling.

“Oh, since we’re here… that place should actually be pretty close by,” Honami called out to her bandmates Ichika, Saki, and Shiho, as they walked home from their Thank You show. They planned to see the Perseids meteor shower together tonight.

“What place?” Saki replied, confused for a moment until she remembered. The park. “Oh! Right! Nice catch, Hona!” Saki smiled, prepared to take off and run her way to the park.

The four bandmates walked to the park, smiling from their show. Smiling from being able to be with each other again. Smiling from being able to chase the same dreams together again. What was once a wishful thought was now their reality.

They made it to the park, and all looked up at the sky, watching the meteors streak through the constellation of Perseus and into the sky beyond. It was as if the meteors were carrying their wishes, their dreams, and their feelings, into the night sky.

It had been a long time since they last watched a meteor shower together - not since the Leonids they watched when they were young, in the very park they stood in now.

“Oh, there’s another one!” Ichika called as she spotted another meteor fly past.

“I had a feeling this park would give us the best view,” Honami said, smiling. Her love for astronomy was unbounded as she gazed up in awe, wonder, and happiness.

“They really are beautiful,” Shiho remarked, as more meteors began appearing across the sky.

“Yeah…” Ichika said, trailing off into silence.

They stood like that for a moment, before Saki spoke. “Oh, hehe…” she laughed lightly, “my wish came true…”

Saki was in hospital, sitting on her bed and watching the rainy sky clear into something beautiful. She smiled sadly as she watched the first star of the night appear. If only she weren’t in hospital and Ichika, Honami, and Shiho were here…

She missed them so much. Being stuck in the hospital with nothing to do. Missing out on her Junior High life, not knowing when she'd be better and she could be discharged. And yet, there it was. Stella after the rain.

She wished she could see another meteor shower again with them one day. That they could be together forever, like they were on that bench in the park where they watched the Leonids as children.

Shiho smiled. “Yeah. Hanging out, talking, and seeing a meteor shower on our way home…”

There was a time that Shiho thought they would never be together again. Here she was, walking through the school hallways acting completely cold for Ichika and Honami’s sake. She didn’t think that they’d ever end up reconciling, that they would never have a moment with her friends like she did that night in the park.

Shiho always thought she’d have to go pro by herself, and that her bandmates weren’t serious enough. But with Saki’s return, she realised that her desire to be in a band with her friends was just as strong, and maybe even stronger, than her desire to go pro. And now… and now they were chasing that dream - Shiho’s dream - together, because they wanted to stay together.

“You said you wanted us to be like this forever,” Honami said. Saki was in complete awe at this point.

Honami remembered when she sat on the climbing frame with the others in the park. They were walking back from their very first band practice, and the future seemed bright as ever.

“I want us to be like this forever!” Saki had declared so happily as the four of them watched the Leonids together.

Honami didn’t think it would ever happen again after she pushed Ichika away. After her classmates said mean things about her when she was just trying to help someone.

She thought not talking to Ichika was the best. But then Saki came back, and everything changed. She found herself reconciling with her childhood friends, and now it was impossible to imagine that they were ever separated.

“Yeah,” Saki smiled, remembering that time too. “And I also wished for this the day before I was given the okay to go back to school. I really wanted us to see a meteor shower like this again some day.”

And they did. Here they were, together as they should be, watching the Perseids streak through the sky.

“I’m really glad that my wish came true…”

“Saki…”

Ichika’s attention was diverted from her friend as she spotted yet another shooting star. “Oh, there’s another one…”

Just then, an idea came into Ichika’s mind. “Why don’t we make the same wish again? For all of us to stay together for good.”

Ichika remembered when her friends pushed her away. Saki was still in the hospital, unable to bring everyone together. She really was the glue of the whole group. Without her, Ichika watched as Honami and Shiho told her to stay away, and ignored her every time they spoke.

Saki’s wish of them staying together forever seemed so far away. It seemed like it would never come true, not with the distance between herself, Honami, and Shiho. How had it come to this? Ichika wondered, as she spent yet another lunchtime by herself. If only Saki were here… if only they were together again.

“Oh… yeah!” Saki smiled again. She gazed up at the stars, at the constellation of Perseus, and watched the meteors fly by. She pleaded earnestly from the bottom of her heart. “The four of us. Together. Forever and ever! So we get to see lots more meteor showers like this! Please make it come true!”

The four members of Leo/need remembered the times they spent together since Saki came back to school. Saki bringing the band back together. Meeting Miku and the other Virtual Singers in their SEKAI, and then deciding to go pro together. What was once Shiho’s dream was now their dream, to play music together as friends.

Telling Shiho with all their heart that they wanted to go pro with her.

Their first solo show.

The first time they ever did their Leo/need star pose.

Helping a brother and a sister reconcile through music.

Being scouted at one of their shows by Shindo, and then being signed on to Solis Records.

Memories of laughter, happiness, of the good times and the bad. No matter what, Saki’s dream, Shiho’s dream, Honami’s dream, and Ichika’s dream all seemed to slowly merge into one. To stay together as friends and to make music that can touch people’s hearts.

That dream had never seemed closer.

It was their starry sky, leading to the future. And that future was a bright future.

Before the Wraith — Inej’s Night|| writing comp || grishaverse fandom || fanfic entry
Rain thrummed on the wooden boards of the Caravan’s wagon as young Inej Ghafa crouched by the side, cleaning grease from the acrobat harness she would use tonight. The smell of damp fabric mixed with roasting chestnuts and spice from the traveling caravan’s evening meal. Beyond the canvas walls, laughter and music rose — children’s laughter, clinking cups, the soft hum of a lute.
Her fingers were careful but quick, practiced: half her life had been spent polishing harnesses, tying knots, counting footfalls. She worked silently, always aware of the hush around her, waiting for the applause, for the gasp of the crowd. Tightrope walking. Dancing on the air. She was free when she walked the wire — lighter than the world below.
Night fell. The lamps glowed around the ring. Her father nodded from the supports, and with a deep breath, Inej stepped into the spotlight’s glow. Boots off, rope bare under her feet. Silence stretched. Then she stepped — one, two, three heartbeats — and the world leaned backward. The crowd gasped. Somewhere, a child cried out. But Inej flew.
When she landed, arms outstretched, the applause thundered. Her family cheered. For a moment — just one — she felt belonging. Home. Safe.
But dawn came cruel the next day. She woke to sunlight too bright, to terror too real. The wagon was still, the laughter gone, the tents silent. She didn’t yet understand the looks, the hushed whispers. She didn’t understand the way guards came, the way ropes slipped around wrists, how fear could taste like iron.
Chains, shackles, the scraping of boots against cobblestone — her life shifted in a blink. The caravan that had been her home was gone. They took her across oceans, across seas, sold her into labor and ownership, into shadows she did not yet have a name for. Fear became her constant companion. Silence, her survival.
Days bled into nights. She stopped looking at her hands. She stopped hoping. She moved through shadows when she moved at all. The wind on rooftops, the hush before a breath, the sting of applause — those memories became a pulse, buried deep, a reminder that she had once been light, once flown.
In Ketterdam, under Tante Heleen’s harsh men at the pleasure house called “The Menagerie,” Inej learned control in its cruelest form. She learned how a body could be owned, how the mind could be bent until silence became instinct. She learned to keep her fear contained, to hide it, to move unseen. Every lesson was carved into her bones. Every narrow escape became a habit.
Then came the night she saw him — a man staggering through the alley, coins spilling from his hand, careless. Guards never came. The crowd never saw. But she did. Inej felt the familiar pull of the wire, the thrill of knowing the shadows were hers. She lifted a knife, held it ready. Not to kill, not yet, but to feel control. The cold steel against her palm was a tether to herself.
Weeks passed. She watched, learned, survived. She followed shadows, memorized alleyways, and discovered the rooftops — the hidden arteries of the city. She moved like smoke, silent, precise, invisible. And for the first time in months, she felt the tiniest flicker of something she thought lost: power.
And then came the man with the cane. Kaz Brekker. He did not speak in promises of kindness. He spoke of opportunity, of skill, of using shadows and silence for gain. He offered her freedom in exchange for her abilities — the very skills the Menagerie had tried to take from her, the rooftops she had memorized, the leaps across gaps she had made in the dark, the agility and silence she had honed out of fear.
She could have run then, vanished into the night as she had dreamed of doing for years. But the rooftops called to her. The memory of flight, the whisper of wind beneath her feet, the pulse of her own heartbeat, told her: You are not finished yet.
“I’ll work for you,” she said.
The Wraith was born that night — silent, deadly, unbroken. Not a victim, not a tool, not a shadow for someone else’s amusement. She was something entirely her own. A ghost among rooftops, a force in the alleys, a weapon hidden in plain sight.
She trained with him, learned his plans, practiced the precision of espionage, and for the first time in years, she felt capable of choice. Every leap across Ketterdam’s rooftops, every whispered message gathered from guards, every silent observation became a statement: she survived. She could endure. She could act.
And then, on a night when the canals glittered with lantern reflections, she realized she was ready. Ready to step into the web Kaz was spinning, ready to join the crew that would change Ketterdam, ready to become part of the story that would carry her from shadow to legend.
By the time the events of Six of Crows begin, Inej carries more than scars: she carries memory, agility, silence, and a quiet faith that maybe — just maybe — she does not have to be afraid anymore. Her past shaped her path, yes, but it does not define her. When she steps aboard the docks and meets Kaz, Jesper, Nina, and the rest, she is ready — not just to survive, but to act, to fight, to choose.
And though she still moves like a shadow, the wire beneath her feet, the memory of applause, the whisper of wind — they remind her: she is free in ways the world cannot touch.
She is the Wraith.
And her story — the one the world will come to know — is only just beginning.

WRITING COMP ENTRY || Title: And yet || general || poem || 278 words || Asha

And yet,
Hope is not a song.
It is a scream choked down
so no one else has to hear it.

It is rising
when your legs are dust,
when your spine is splintered,
when you can’t go on,
with every yesterday
that didn’t let you live.

Pain teaches.
But not kindly.
It carves its lessons
into the marrow,
leaves you fluent in silence,
a scholar of absence.
We wear love like a wound,
call it beautiful
because if we don’t,
what was the point
of all that bleeding?

No one tells you
that the ones who shine the most
have often stood the longest
in the fire.
And suffering—
oh, it is faithful.
It does not forget your name.
It comes to sit beside you
when the rest have turned away.
A companion. A curse.
A mirror.

But still—
still—
somewhere inside the breaking,
there is the faintest breath
that whispers:
“And yet.”
And yet, you rise.
And yet, you hope.
Not because you are fearless—
but because fear has kissed your hands
and you carried on anyway.

There is a love
in surviving
when you were not meant to.
In building,
with bare hands,
a life the world tried
to bury.

There is beauty
in those who stay soft
after the world made them hard.
Who bend,
and break,
and bend again—
but do not vanish.
So don’t speak to me
of light
without the dark.
Don’t preach joy
without naming grief.
Tell me the truth.
That it hurts.
That you are tired.
That you wish it was easier.
And I will look you in the eyes
and say—
Me too
And yet
We go on.

Weekly 4 ☆ Alphabet Soup: MQJWEXAPLN
0/2000 words

─────────────

Prompt 1 ⋅ M ⋅ 273/200 words

I duck behind the table, eyeing the door that lies just a few metres out of reach. I'm not supposed to be here doing this, but I must, because it is essential that I get a MacGuffin. I know that the idea of McDonalds making Grape-infused Muffins isn't… as appealing, but I have been dreaming of tasting one for ages, and as I eye the sign on the door reading Staff Only, I know that today I will be sealing my fate. Either I walk out victorious.. or walk out escorted by security. I would much prefer that first option. Because it involves MacGuffins.

The couple sitting at the table next to mine heads off, and I take that as my sign to slip in through the door unnoticed. I hope what I'm wearing - all grey - is subtle enough to pass through the kitchen, and the smell of the burgers fills me up as I step into the packed room. Keeping my head down, I walk briskly to the corner where I can see the MacGuffins. I'm unable to control my excitement, but I try to keep it cool. There's just one MacGuffin left, and I'm about to replace it with some cash in compensation, when a hand reaches out from nowhere and grabs it.

Whirling around, I realise that I was not the only one who had snuck in in hopes of claiming a MacGuffin. Surprised eyes watch me as I glare back. Irritated, I lurch forward to swipe it from the person's hand. Skip to one minute later, and this is the best food fight I've ever been in.

Prompt 2 ⋅ Q ⋅ 236/200 words

I'm going to say this character is a persona and basically me questioning my own beliefs lol! I am a huge swiftie. I love listening to Taylor Swift's music. But sometimes I see how other fans over-idolise her (which isn't her fault, I know) and sometimes I begin to question myself.

Do I occasionally ‘force’ myself to listen to her music? Because sure, there are many days where her music feels like a hug, and I feel in the mood for this era or that era, but I think I may have over-listened along the way. According to my Spotify listening stats, she made up 47% of my listening time last week.. So. Uh.

I know that people don't like Taylor for whatever reason they may have, and so in turn they don't like Swifties, which makes no sense, but does get to you a little. I don't idolise Taylor. I can understand if she has made mistakes in the past, and I don't avoid the fact that her carbon emissions are high, and that she's tweaked a few facts before, because that's human. So sometimes I doubt whether I really should be dedicating all this time to this one woman. Fame is really such a funny topic, and as much as I love being a Swiftie, since the fandom is so amazing, sometimes I just stop and think.

Do I sometimes treat Taylor Swift parasocially?

Prompt 3 ⋅ J ⋅ 231/200 words
The world stands still as my eyes scan the words again and again. Is this real? I feel like screaming with joy. No, wait, I do scream with joy. Jumping around the room, I don’t think I’ve ever felt a lighter or simpler emotion than this pure joy, pure happiness, and the pride blooms in my stomach and seeps out of my eyes as I find myself crying a little.

“I can’t believe I did it,” I whisper to myself. I look down at my dog happily, and his tail is wagging with the unseen excitement in the room. “I can’t believe we did it!” I repeat that same over and over again. We did it! We actually did it! I feel the realisation finally sink in, and as I burst out of the library and skip down the path, my dog following me, barking, I know I’ll never feel as much joy again for a long, long, time.

This is the type of joy that fills every corner or your body, that brightens the mind and lifts the worries. And, for these few moments, it’s mine. And I’m actually skipping. After years of working, all my effort has paid off, and even though my cheek muscles burn from all the grinning, that just lifts my mood even more, because I am on cloud nine and nothing can bring me down!

Prompt 4 ⋅ W ⋅ 0/200 words
Fia looks down at the exploded potion on the table, heaving out a big sigh. “Ughh,” she complains, as she gently unties her apron. Looking at it fondly, she thinks back to when it was once pristine and clean. Splashes if colour streak the light blue, now, and she loves it that way. But there’s no time to dwell on things, and she reluctantly folds her apron up and pops it in a basket as she turns back to face the matter at hand.

Orange and turquoise sparkles glitter back up at her, innocently. Grabbing a cloth and dipping it into her water-bucket, Fia rubs gently at the liquid solution thing, and gasps in despair when she sees what has happened to her cloth. Half of it has turned into… glitter?

Critique for Sage <3
412 words

First of all, I absolutely loved reading through this! I adored the imagery of the shadows and how you depicted the character’s pain and hardships <3

I don’t have long, so let’s get into this!
The first paragraph was mostly great. I loved all of the questions and the short sentences which really conveyed the main character’s confusion and despair. One short point I could make on it is that you repeat ‘dark haze’ twice, once at the beginning of the paragraph, and once at the end. This just makes it not hit as well as it could if you used a different phrase. Maybe you could connect the ‘dark haze’ with the silence instead, as ‘way too quiet’ also sounds a little bit informal. So you could say ‘a deafening silence hung over the battlefield as if it weren’t done’ instead.

My next point is further towards the end of the piece, and that is how you keep switching between past and present tense. I think present tense might hit a little bit harder, but it’s up to you, of course! Just make sure that you aren’t using both - for example, you say ‘I fell to the ground’ and then straight after that you say ‘the shadow looms above me.’ It would be quicker to change it all to past tense however, as most of it is already in that tense.

There’s a sentence in the second paragraph that just feels kind of… off? I don’t really know how to explain it, but it just doesn’t feel right. The sentence is ‘It opened its mouth and a noise like nails against chalkboard came out.’ Instead you could say ‘A noise like nails against chalkboard erupted from the creature’s mouth.’ This is a more powerful verb than ‘came’ and makes it flow better.

One small point: In the third paragraph (just a few sentences actually) you say ‘I parried sending its blade through the air.’ I think you should have a comma after ‘parried.’

Another thing is that you repeat ‘stabbed’ quite a lot of times, and you could think about replacing it with ‘slashed’ or ‘pierced’ or ‘thrusted.’

Right, that’s my critique finished! Sorry that it’s so rushed - I didn’t have much time! Overall, this piece was lovely to read through and I thought it contained a lot of skill! I loved it <3
I hope this critique helps and best of luck in the writing comp!!

Writing comp entry // 876 words or 930 including author's note // tw: death // thanks to Skylar, Gigi and Zephr for critiquing at various stages <33

Author's note (not necessary to read):
This poetry collection is about decay at its centre - physical decay, yes, but also decay of legacy, language, and communication - and ultimately how it all matters very little. That's the core of it anyways. It's by no means the most polished collection I've written, but I hope it makes you think <3
__


Trigger warning: the very mouldy truth


Beyond the grave

Beyond the grave?
oh, darling…
there’s nothing waiting there but

Worms
chewing on your Sunday best
turning frills and lace to
Mud
that seeps between minty teeth, the
Bones
within grow sharp splinters and duel the
Coffin
as the worms slither in their ever-so-patient choreography of 
Rot.

All encapsulated in the raw, suffocating stench of
Death. 

The End. 

Hate to break it to you. 
If you were digging for comfort,
you've dug too far. 

wait- 

You wanted to hear something else?
You don’t want that to be your eternal fate?
You want… more?

Fine. Roll up your frilly sleeves and let’s dig right in.
(pun painfully intended)


Dearest decay

Imagine the gravestone, a name 
inscribed deep into stone 
like a knife carved clean into flesh.
As if that - or anything - will keep them alive. 
‘Beloved’, ‘dearest’
For now, maybe that’s true 

But time will grave-rob the truth
as their names slip into the mudslide of history. 

What - beloved bones, dearest decay?
or just another body lost in the maze,
another coffin silent in another grave…
And there are no memories
that side of the stone.

Their bones are white 
as the programme of the songs you sing, dressed in black,
as the tissues that soak up your tears.
no matter how much you cherish them
as you sob before the stone,
your tears can drill holes in earth 
but nothing can undo the hearse -
what lies within is earth, wood… bones.
locks of hair curl around the 
empty, empty
skull 
where no thoughts lurk
because 
they
are 
Dead.

Did you prefer that explanation? 
No? Well, it only gets worse from here. 
I’d say sorry - but I’m not. 


Rotting platitudes 

They told me…

‘love never dies’
load of good that did,
my heart’s compost now.
it lies deep underground, enshrouded 
in mulch. Sprouting mould at the edges 
like a warm winter coat.

the worms learn our names by heart
as they churn a vat of euphemisms 
that fuel the comforting inferno of lies.  

‘they’re proud of you’ 
well, nobody’s ever received a gold star 
from someone 6 feet under.

‘never forget them’ 
but honestly? 
my name will soften in your mouth
like old fruit-
the memories - our memories - have long passed their expiration date. 

‘they’re in a better place now’
funny, if anyone’s been
they’d have sent a postcard
or posted a selfie for me to tap ‘like’, but
there’s no good in that now,
no service underground.

It’s all very well saying forever,
but forever decomposed first. 


TTYL

I loved u
thx 4 yr time. 
it meant smth, i think
idrk
Idk how 2 miss u tho, tbh
idk..
idk idk id-

I don’t know. 
All I know is-

Grief with rubbish wifi,
mourning in 3G.
My connection lost mid memory,
liked posts consoling me. 
And drafts still linger in the inbox
of emotions left unsaid
but what use is that, when you’re already d-

gone?

I know typing dots control my heartbeat 
and I’ve said so many lies,
I don’t really ‘gtg’
and ‘lol’ won’t hide my cries.
This artificial living won’t save me 
while I look for you above
wait - did living autocorrect? 
I meant to type lo-

I can’t say it. Not now. 

Not when my phone pulses with autocorrected condolences
and my heart 
pulses with notifications of my pain.

Emotions are hard over text. Kind of glitchy, I find. 

So, pls brb asap…

Ttyl 
Or not.
Idk. 

I guess I’ll be rotting one day too…
Just one more rotting abbreviation
in a graveyard of undelivered texts.


Inbox loading…

Inbox (3)
Subject: Employee Status Notice 

Good morning,
We regret to inform you that you have been reassigned
to nothingness.

A minute’s silence will be observed in honour of your memory. 
Unpaid. 
Or likely a silence forever.

Kind regards.


Inbox (2)
Subject: T&Cs

Good afternoon, 
I am writing to confirm the terms and conditions
Of your recent death, 
For which we reiterate we remain entirely non-liable. 

By dying, you consent to:
A loss of legacy,
The possibility of side effects including, but not limited to
Loss of vision,
Permanent paralysis
And rot of all external and internal flesh.

For queries concerning resurrection,
Please see clause 7b. 

Thank you for your time. 


Inbox (1)
Subject: Tomorrow’s forecast

Good evening,
Quick update on tomorrow’s forecast.
Scattered funerals, light mourning by the coast,
Bringing in high pressure in the chest by dawn
And a slim chance of remembrance.

That’s all for now.

Inbox (0)
Error 404 - soul not found
Please try refreshing the body
Or turning life on and off again

Loading… 
…
No results.
Clearing all search history permanently.

Inbox (0)



This is it  

A body stops. A name flickers on, briefly,
more habit than memory. 
Notifications are left on read. Forever.
Dust gathers. Rooms are cleared.
someone new moves in, lives their life
and then dies. 
The world moves on, 
slowly, painfully, moulding itself around the wounds
but unchanged.

And however much I reach for an ending,
there just isn’t one this time - 
and it’s not just that you wouldn’t like it.
There is no ending. 

This time, I’ll admit it - 
I really am sorry.

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Fanfic Entry (Writing Competition) || 928 words || fandoms: SWC

“Good morning” I said, looking around. My fellow Action campers were already on their laptops, writing on documents. “Oh, cabin wars are today!”
“Yes!” Sage said. She looked a bit sleep deprived.
“Sage… I think you should go to sleep. I’m awake now”
“But I can still write” she replied.
I sighed, but I let her write, because we had just received a 4.5k war. I decided that I could make her sleep later.
Suddenly, someone opened the door of the Action Headquarters. Skylar entered the room with her phone.
“Sage! Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s late for you” she said. “I’m here now, so go to sleep!”
“Alright…” Sage replied. She turned her laptop off. “Good night!” she said before entering the portal to the 1st dimension.
I greeted Skylar, sat on the floor and began to write.

***

After a while, I looked at the clock and realized that it was 9 a.m. UTC, which meant that most cabins’ shields would go down soon. I grabbed a few envelopes from the boxes, and after telling the other campers that I was going to send some wars, I left the Action HQ.

In the 28th dimension, the weather was sunny and warm, unlike the weather in the 1st one. I saw lots of people running around, some of them holding frying pans, some of them with envelopes, like me, and some of them carrying ladders and really big stuffed snakes. In the middle of the Main Square, there was a huge game board with snakes and ladders, and the hosts were standing there, moving the pieces. Next to it, there was a screen that displayed a clock in UTC time that even showed the seconds. During cabin wars, every second mattered.

I looked around and then opened my spreadsheet on my phone. Gothic’s shield went down in 3 minutes. They had more words than Action, so I picked the 2k war and an extra challenge and put them in an envelope. After writing the UTC time with a pen, I sprinted towards the Nevermore Academy.
As I approached the gates, I saw more and more details. Statues, stone buildings, and the campers who were sitting on benches. There was a mailbox in front of the door: every cabin had a personalized one they could use during cabin wars. I glanced back at the clock to make sure the war wasn’t invalid, and after checking that their shield was down, I put the envelope in the mailbox.
“You beat me! I was going to war them… And why did you send them a 2k war?” Em, a camper from Magical Realism, asked.
“I have my reasons” I replied. I didn’t think that explaining all my thought process was a great idea, especially when Fairy Tales’ shield went down in 2 minutes.
“Alright” she said. “Well, I must go to war Psycho-Fi now, bye!”

I waved and sprinted towards the Fairy Tales Library. It was a beautiful magical building next to Nevermore Academy, so I arrived in time. I decided to send them a 4k war, and waited by their mailbox, which was decorated with pieces of old yellow-ish paper with letters, probably pages from stories, written in cursive.
Unfortunately, I got distracted by two people who walked out of the library. I recognized Charlie and Lune, who were both from Fairy Tales, and heard them arguing about sleep, but then I remembered the reason why I was there, and… Rose arrived first. She reached the mailbox first, and sent them a 4.5k war. She yelled “Sorry not sorry!” and sprinted towards her cabin again.
“Rose, why aren't you sleeping?” I yelled? She didn't reply.
Or… Wait, she had entered the Action Headquarters! She was probably going to send us a 4k war… But I couldn't focus on that. Not yet, because we still had time before our wars ended. I had to send a small war to Magical Realism to make sure they don't receive a big war and write even more words. They were the cabin that had written the most words and I didn't want to motivate them more.
So I calmly walked towards the pond. I had 8 minutes before their shield went down, so I had enough time and didn't have to run. I noticed that the Main Square was much more quiet than before, because most people from the United States had already traveled back to the 1st dimension to go to sleep. That also meant that less people would send wars. But then, I heard a noise behind me, and I saw a huge bandwagon, pulled by Skogs and packed with SWCers.
Well, it turned out that they weren't sleeping yet.
'Poor Skogs… They have to pull the bandwagon and all the people on it' I thought. But I still jumped on, and talked and laughed with the rest of the SWCers, while we asked and answered questions.

***

The Magical Realism Pond was a calm place with a relaxed atmosphere and beautiful flowers. Their mailbox was painted turquoise, decorated with pink petals. I jumped off the bandwagon when it stopped near the lake, and went to send the war. While folding the paper with the extra challenge, I heard Chuey telling the other campers that she had sent so many wars to Fantasy because she wanted to annoy Luna. I smiled.
It was time. Their shield was down. I sent the war and quickly left, and went back to the Action HQ.
It was time to stop procrastinating and lock in.

Thanks to Sage, Skylar, Em, Charlie, Lune, Rose, Chuey, and more, for letting me include them in my writing comp entry!
Also, in case you didn't get it, the 28th dimension is a reference to Encryn (28thdimension)'s username.

Writing competition entry
1658 words
excerpt from a novel

I need a title

Steam rose from the hot tea as it streamed down into the cup.
“Any sugar, Tadao?” asked the emperor.
“No, highness” replied Tadao, taking the tea cup and sipping the hot, revitalising liquid. A gentle breeze entered the pergola, swiveling down a few petals unto the low table. The anemone was coming to the end of its bloom and autumn was peering out from behind the mountains.
“Tadao. I am deeply worried,” continued the emperor after a pause. “Dark times are ahead, and my people are helpless and unsuspecting. I am old, I have no heir. I am afraid that the enemy, whoever that may be, will find our country when it is weak and poor.”
Tadao stood still. He looked up at the sky, then back at the emperor.
“Highness,” he said finally. “You say you have no heir. But you have a daughter!”
“She is just a mere child!”
“She is thirteen your highness. At that age she should have forgotten her childish habits and learning about the dangers and responsibility of life, especially as a princess,” Tadao replied dryly.
“Perhaps,” said the emperor. “But Ameli still has her childish laugh and wonder, and I am afraid to lose it.”
Tadao didn’t reply. He merely sipped his tea and studied the gardens. He didn’t say he disagreed. This was the emperor after all, and he was a simply his advisor.

Deep behind the green palisades and ponds, Ameli was playing in the gardens. She had apparently caught a bug in her palms and her squeals could be heard even in their pergola.
“Tadao. Promise something to me.” The emperor said quietly. “If anything were to happen to me or to our land, protect Ameli. You must use all you can to save her, for I will not bear to lose her.”
Tadao put down his cup and pronounced. “Yes, your highness. I am sworn to obey you and I shall follow without flinching all your commands. I swear to protect your child in any place or any time until my own last breath.”
The emperor nodded approvingly and stood up.
“You are free to go.” he said. Tadao rose, bowed, and left.


The branches moved quietly opening a small hole. Dark eyes peered out, eyes that glowed a cold blue out of the dark. They looked into the flowering alley where a young girl was playing with rocks in the pond. A slight ruffling sound was heard and steel hissed out of a leather scabbard. The little princess would be dead before she could feel a thing. The knife rose above his shoulder, and the blue, calculating eyes paused their nonstop search. A few more seconds and the princess would be motionless on the ground and the attacker would be long gone.
But in those passing seconds events unfolded at a blinding speed and no one could have predicted them.
Tadao, who was watching over the princess, saw a blue flash from the bushes and threw himself forward from his hill to try and deflect the knife, now soaring through the air towards the princess. Ameli, whoever, had fished out a rock from the pond, a small rock, but one that was a vivid shade of ruby red. The rock leapt out of her hands and a flash, brighter than the sun itself, and everyone in the palace and the surrounding lands were shaken to the ground.
Hours passed, and when the people found the strength to rise from the ground the sun had set over the mountains.
“Are you alright, Highness? Where are you hurt?” voices rang out as servants flooded around Ameli. Despite being closest to the explosion, Ameli was unharmed except for a small glowing mark on her hand. Despite numerous searches, nothing was found of the attacker except the hilt of his small knife, and the king ordered that all would be kept secret.

***

It was cold on the guard tower. Although it was the bare start of September, blood freezing chills were in the air, and the grass was frosted as if ready for snow. A guard wrapped themselves tighter in his cloak and swayed from foot to foot, warming up his body.
“Strange night eh? Feels like winter already” He said, his voice showing a weak attempt at humour.
“Hmrph.” The other guard replied without looking.
“The weather has not been kind to us this week. First the heat, then this fog where we couldn’t see your hand, and now this! What’s next, a tornado?”
“Owmph.” Agreed his companion.
“With all these strange magic going on there has been more job for guards then in a siege here. And everyone is always mad at everyone, we can almost bet on a bloody war between the cooks and gardeners, one even worse than between kingdoms!”
“Mhmths.”
“Now I think it is safe to hope for a little peace and harmony, with all the fishy princess and mystical business quieted down!”
And for the first time in hours, the other guard spoke more than two words.
“Quieted down? I think not.” And with a gesture he indicated the distant fields in the east. Even at their tower, a distant roaring could be heard, and it seemed to be approaching fast. A dark mass became visible, which could be made out of small creatures, creatures like no fairy tales ever discussed.
The talkative guard was speechless for a moment.
“Wha- wha- what do we do?”
“We run.”
Signal fires soared, trumpets were sounded, the women and children retreated deeper into the dungeons, and the soldiers rushed to the armoury to seize their swords and bows.

Tadao let out a muffled curse as he shouted at the men under his command.
“The princess!” He thought as he kicked himself inside, remembering his vow. “I hope the girl had some sense to follow the others into the tower.” Then his mind went busy again as the men set into formations in front on the walls and palisades, preparing for an attack.

The darkness was fast approaching and such cold was around the land that all water began to freeze. Soldiers, dressed lightly, began to shiver, and their fingers grew numb around their weapons.
Tadao’s gaze rose to see if the help signal fire was lit and staggered backwards, momentarily out of breath and his eyes wide. Then, catching his breath again he released a string of curses.
“What in the beard of great Myndorin are you doing here?” He screamed as he grabbed Ameli by her legs and dragged her down from the window, where she had crawled out from and was now dangling wildly.
“Well, I heard you and father talk about how I should learn the ways of ruling and fighting and stop hiding as a child, so that’s what I did.” She smiled with a deceiving sweetness and pointed to the sword hanging from her belt.
“You idiot! You rotten brained mouse! You spoiled worthless brat!” He hissed, holding Ameli tight by the arm. “We are all about to die here and you choose for once to be heroic and hurt yourself in-”
His voice was interrupted by a screech, accompanied by clangs of metal weapons and human screams. The creatures climbed over the castle walls like flies walking on the ceiling and threw themselves on the guards. They had no strategy, no formation, just pure mindless rush that broke down everything.

“Go lock yourself in the guard house!” Yelled captain Tadao and rushed to the aid of his men, drawing his sword. He was almost immediately thrown of balance by the princess, rushing past him in a headlong rush, her left hand outstretched forward. Before Tadao could hit her and unleash another string of insults she grabbed at him and shrieked through her tears.
“I can’t. Stop! It’s. Pulling me!”
The spiral mark on her hand, the one she got after the strange encounter with the attacker and the crystal, was now glowing a bright blue, and seemed to pull Ameli’s hand towards the heat of the fight. The creatures now seemed to flow in more, and more multiplying on the spot, and the warriors of the castle were giving ground, unable to withstand such a force.
“Some dark magic is at hand here.” though Tadao and hauled the young girl onto his shoulder, resisting as much as he could the pull of the mark and running towards the back gate. He knew the castle would soon be taken and searched. He knew the amount of cursed things approaching and now that he saw them multiplying he didn’t even bother thinking they would win. The monsters were after Ameli, and the mark wanted to join them. If the side of light were to have a chance at all, he had to get Ameli away. He climbed into ledge in the castle walls and then crawled into the secret tunnels designed as a last resort escape way. There were many dead ends and twisted turns in the dark, but Tadao knew the way by heart and they soon emerged into the fresh grass on the outside of the castle.
No creature got here, they were all busy fighting on the other side and some already searching the castle passages.

Both of them turned and ran, getting as far away from the castle as possible. They raced down the hill, hoping to reach the farming fields nearby. There they could conceal themselves for a bit and decide on where to go. The pull from the mark was less strong now, and Ameli found the strength to pull against it and continue on getting further away from the castle. After more minutes of running they reached the end of the villages around the castle and were in the wild countryside. The villagers were aroused and running towards the castle, but, as if hidden by a shadow the princess and the captain passed unnoticed.

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Chaos Carnival: Genesis
~ Chapter 1 ~

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"Excuse me– sorry–!” Yume hurried through the cafe dining room, carrying a tray with two glasses and a plate of cookies. One person here– dodged. A couple there– also ducked past. But even with all that, it was never a good thing to couple Yume and speed, and even worse to add a social situation into the mix. It wasn’t even three steps away from the table of waiting customers that her left foot caught on absolutely nothing and she tripped, the tray flying from her hands and smacking into the table, the glasses and cookies tossed away to dash upon the ground into fragments and crumbs.

Yume was sent to the tiled floor with a squeak and another stifled noise, her knees and palms scraping in a frantic attempt to save her face from being turned into a pancake. “I-I’m so sorry, I–” she stammered, pushing herself up to face the customers– a finely-dressed young man and his girlfriend, both soaked in tea and sugar.

The lady gave a gentle smile, laughing softly. “Oh, no, don’t worry. Are you all right, dear?” As if it couldn’t get any worse, they cared.

Yume’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she hastily brushed her skirt down and straightened her apron. “Y-yeah, thank you. I’m– so sorry about your– clothing. Uh–” Before the brunette could continue, her manager hurried over.

“Yume! How many times do I have to tell you not to rush? Now look at the mess you made,” Mr. Yau scolded, wiping his hands on a towel before putting on a wry smile and looking at the couple. “I’m so sorry about her; she’s young and children are always everywhere, never listening. We’ll refund you for the drinks and get you new ones on the house–”

“There’s no need,” the gentleman interrupted, standing up and passing a polite smile to Mr. Yau. He took a handkerchief from his breastpocket and passed it to the lady, who likewise stood and began to dab away the liquid. “We’ll be taking our leave. Please, do not be so hard on the child. Perhaps you should assign more staff to the floor instead of letting a single girl rush around to make your business run.”

Yume wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information, half of her determined to take it as an insult and the other half as reassurance. With a brief glance to Mr. Yau, it was obvious he was far from happy with the words spoken. A ruddy flush climbed up his neck and face, but he forced himself to grin anyways– as the door swung closed and the bells tied at the top chimed as though to make mirth of the situation.

Instantly, Mr. Yau wheeled around and glowered down at Yume. “You–” He bit his tongue and twisted up his face, storming back to the kitchen and cursing under his breath. A few other customers sent pitying looks to Yume, but the girl bristled slightly under their sympathetic gazes.

I don’t need that, she thought to herself, but wisely kept her mouth shut and resigned herself to grabbing a mop to begin cleaning the mess. I swear, I don’t need to be here, I could’ve just chosen a nicer job at– at a pet shelter! Or something remote– not this…this…nasty…

She blinked away the tears of vexation in the corners of her eyes and swiftly finished the task, head down to avoid the eyes of any of the people around her. She sighed, running through a list of Mop in the closet, glass pieces in the trash, and probably a couple weeks of her pay down the drain because her manager was cruel that way.

Moving away from the chaos of the dining area, Yume found a quiet spot in the break room, tucking herself away in the farthest corner despite not being on break yet. Surely they didn’t need a clumsy kid on the floor anymore, right? She fished her phone out from her skirt pocket, checking it over for a moment only to find a fresh crack on her screen protector. An indignant noise escaped her, but she choked down any stray words that might’ve gotten her fired; she didn’t need to also get in trouble with her parents when she got back home.

A minute passed, then two. She kept her own company by distracting herself with music and a rhythm game– a daring gamble that she’d likely never admit to later on. Just before she could finish her second show, however, Mr. Yau barged into the room, slamming the door open with one hand and barely restrained himself from marching over and flinging her phone to the next world.

“What do you think you’re doing? I don’t pay you to play your little games,” he sneered. “Hurry up and get out there. We’re running behind on the orders. And don’t mess it up again or else you’re fired!!”

Yume shoved her phone back into her pocket and hastened out after Mr. Yau. “Y-yes, Mr. Yau– I won’t–” The man was gone before she could finish, leaving a bitter feeling to rise on her tongue. …No matter. She quickly busied herself at the counter, checking the cluttered expanse and selecting a small drink off on the side that she recognized as the cheapest item on the entire menu that wasn’t water.

“If I spill this, it won’t cost that much…” she mumbled to herself, glancing around the dining room to find the table it belonged to. She measured her gait slowly, adding an extra bit of caution into her steps before tracing her way to the window table in the far corner of the cafe.

There was only one person at the table, a girl dressed too warmly for the summer weather and engrossed in– drawing? Immediately, Yume’s interest piqued despite herself, and she paused beside the table, glancing down at the sketchbook. It was the image of a throne room, grand like the ones from books, filled with servants and knights. But no king, interestingly enough. If this girl had the time to draw all the people of the court, why couldn’t she also have added the detail of the king? That would’ve filled the strange vacancy in the middle of the paper. The weight was…very off.

“Is that mine?” the girl spoke up, jerking Yume out of her thoughts and almost causing her to spill the drink she held in her hands. So absorbed by analyzing the drawing was she that she hadn’t even noticed that the girl had paused and looked up at her.

“O-oh, yes, sorry–” Yume set the glass down, another humiliated flush dusting her cheeks. She met the girl’s gaze and froze, eyes widening. The girl had dark eyes colored the hues of the night sky, but with a harrowing lack of eyeshine. Wasn’t there sunlight shining directly on her face, though–? A chill ran down Yume’s spine and she took an unconscious step backwards. Don’t make it obvious, she chided herself internally.

The girl shook her head. “No worries. Thank you.” She took a straw from the table cubby and unwrapped it, sliding it into the drink and taking a sip. A moment passed, then she glanced at Yume again. “Do you need some bandaids?” she asked mildly.

As if it couldn’t get any worse. Yume recoiled slightly, shaking her head quickly. “No, no, it’s okay– I– uh–” She broke off, her eyes dropping down to the sketch of the throneroom. Though there was a large part in her head that was screaming at her to run the other way and leave, she couldn’t deny the bubbling curiosity that swelled in her mind. “…W-where’s…the king?” Finally, she spoke the very question that was dying to be asked.

“There is no king,” the girl replied readily, following Yume’s gaze down to her art. “A monarchless kingdom. The king died and was replaced by the absent heiress.”

Yume’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “…Oh… ‘Absent heiress’? Is– is this a story you’re writing?”

“I…suppose,” the girl responded vaguely. “You seem rather interested, Yume.” The mention of her name startled Yume, and it took her a moment to realize that she was indeed wearing a name tag.

“E-ehh, well– I…also draw a bit,” Yume offered hesitantly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her apron. “And I write. And you seem about my age, so…” She trailed off with a small squeak, an inevitable noise. She wasn’t desperate for friends, but– she was dreadfully curious about this strange girl. …Besides, she ordered the cheapest drink. Who else did that aside from true Asians and broke college students?

The girl nodded slightly, giving a small hum of affirmation before resuming sketching. Silence fell over the window table, and all of a sudden the usually comfortable quiet was too loud for Yume.

So she fled.

Regretting half of her life decisions and cursing her inability to make small talk on the fly, Yume busied herself with serving the rest of the orders on the other side of the cafe. Still, she allowed herself occasional glances back over at the stranger. She found herself now critiquing the girl’s outfit: a gray hoodie with holes in the cuffs, a button-down shirt underneath with the first few buttons undone, skinny jeans, and autumn sneakers with worn soles.

Was this girl really poor or just blind to the weather? It was almost 80 degrees under the sun; how was she still standing? Yume cleared her thoughts, rushing rebukes through her head for being so judgemental. Maybe she’s cold-blooded, Yume thought to herself. …Is it weird to headcanon about strangers? The girl did seem quite the character, though.

…Maybe it was okay.

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- word count : 1620
- written by tardiyume aka @T_rdigr_desForZy and (very partially) @yumetopia <3

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cabin wars rants and whatever:
2008 words
Here is how to make very delicious very scrumptious and very good scrambled eggs that definitely will not give you lots of diarrhea and pain and suffering. Ready? Here we go! First things first, take 10,000 quail eggs, and throw them away. Don’t use quail eggs like a very silly person. That is not a good idea. I mean quaill eggs are technically edible but STILL very very not good in my opinion. I mean technically I’ve neverr ever had quail eggs or any other eggs other then regular eggs (apparently some people eat ostrich eggs or somthing like that) but I think that chicken eggs are the only eggs that should be eaten, even though I don’t really like eggs in general. They taste kinda weaird to me. Except when they are scrambled in yummy asian noodles then they are very very good. Anyways here how to make scrambled eggs without causing heavy diarrhea and indigestion totally for sure don’t worry about it. Anyways the way to do this is to take like 10 regular egs and uhhh (wait how do you make scrambled eggs again) Uhhh whisk them all together maybe?? oand put them into the oven at 10,000 F yes that sounds very correct and right and deinitely wont cause your house to explode. So yeah whisk them together, and put them in the oven. And while they are in the oven, continue whisking them, and you definitely won’t burn your hands and skin off no totally not why would you think that such a sillly silly thought right? So yeah stick you hand in and whisk it nice and good ok? And ignore the heat it stops when your nerves burn off. Which is totally ok by the way. So take them out after 1 hour of this process, let them cool, and then stick them in for another hour of this process. So same thing, mix it together, stick your hand in and whisk and whisk and whisk and ignore the burning pain because it doesn’t matter too much becaues pain is subjective and just a fee\ling so just ignore it ok, you got this… So after another hour of doing this take it out and ignore your very shriveled and burnt arm becaues I will send you a free jar of skin smoothing tonic that will heal your skin but it might tickle a bit we are not responsible for side effectts including hysterical laughter, pain, chronic pain, bad pain, really bad pain, mild pain, or ok pain. But this tonic will heal your arm but overuse can lead to baby skin and whatever you do do not buy 10 gallons of it soak your body in it because you will slowly turn into an infant and then disappear so yeah be careful please and oh if that happens we are not at all liable for that ok? Don’t worry it won’t happen but just like we are not liable if that doesn happen… anyways moving on once your eggs have cooled down and hardened into a rock substance that is extremely hard to eat, pry it out of the pan, and get a 50 pound sledgehammer (if u cannot hold a 50 pound sledgehammer you can also get a 10 pound sledgehammer and repeat all the steps 5 extra times ok? Cuz i know some of you have weak nerd arms don’t be lying to me I know it and you know it too come on man don’t try to lie we both know its true ok stop its not funny anymore ok you cant pretend you are not weak just because you feel ashamed of it. Own it man own it. Don’t worry I wont judge you no one will judge you we ae all very nice human beings (or as the BFG would say human beans) and no one really cares if you are weak because we all started out week and that is ok because we were all tiny bow legged babies who could do nothing but babble and cry and beg for food and thats fine because eventually you will grow and if you try really hard you will even become very very strong maybe even stronger than me but don’t count on it I am a very buff person don’t think you can beat me it is very unlikely sorry I know im supposed to be motivating you but I don’t really feel like it anymore so now Imma put you down. you are weak and will never be as strong as me you are a tiny child baby thing who has no power haha actually I don’t really like being mean I take it all back sorry man that was really rude of me I don’t know what got into me even if you are a tiny child baby thing right now thats ok because you can work towards being a bigger buff baby thing I believe in you you can do it!!) anyways getting back on topic, take the 50/10 pound sledgehammer and bring the egg block out to some cement blocks and when you break the egg block break the cement blocks too to give it a nice texture and make it nice and crunchy. Be sure to pulverize it really good so that the cement shards don’t rip up your stomach (once again we are not at all in any way liable for this or responsible for this and if this happens that it totally your fault do better man) so yeah pulverize it really really good until it kinda looks like oatmeal but greyer and keep going and going until flies start gathering and that’s when you know its nice and ripe and delicious and scrumptious and good (once more we are not at all liable for any and all damages to property or to ones health). Then scoop it up with a metal shovel (specifically metal) and put it in one of those nice red wheelbarrows (you know the ones that you only see in the cartoons and then the regular ones are boring and plain and you are like man I was really hoping to get a bright red wheelbarrow and then the home depot employee is like hah that’s too bad we don’t own any of those suck it sucker ahaha I don’t like home depot) So once its all put in the wheelbarrow then its almost ready to eat. BEfore you cna do that you need to call NASA and tell them to send you to the sun or else lint and all the other mascots will team up and eat all their spaceships which will obviously make them very sad but no one can stop lint and all the mascots combined because once they do combine they will create energy so powerful the entire universe will explode so yeah tell NASA that and they will have no choice but to make you a spacecraft to fly to the sun and that will be very nice and good of them so then let them pet lint and they will be so happy that they will no longer be mad at you for threatening to blow up the entire universe. So load up the wheelbarrow into the spaceship which should by the way be nice and big to make space for the rest of the mascots who wanted to tag along because who doesn’t want to go to the sun like come on what did you expect obviously the are going to come dont be stupid. So you load up the wheelbarrow and then launch towards the sun and you will be flying for quite a while like 10,000 years or somehitng like thtat so be sure to bring a deck of cards because im pretty sure the mascots will get very bored iwhtout something to do and a bored mascot is a scary mascot so yeah bring a deck of cards because they are also very competitive and play go fish and poker and stuff like that and the 10,000 years will just zip past don’t even worry about it ok? So once you reach the sun, put on the convenient sun diving suit that I hope you asked NASA to make for you and if you didn’t I guess you are going back to earth because um you cant really finish it without that so just keep playing cards and the next 10,000 years will also zip past ok? don’t worry about it. But if you weren’t a silly billy and remembered to get your suit then put it on and jump into the sun with the wheelbarrow of egg cement stuff. As soon as you enter the sun, the egg cement stuff will start to cook even more and it has a 55% of exploding so big that the entire sun will be destroyed but don’t worry that is very very unlikely (once again we are not at all at all responsible for anything like this ok? like im sorry if you accidentally destroy the universe but that sounds like a skill issue on your part ok? Like I’ve made this recipe a thousand times and I have no problems (except that one time where I blew up the universe and escaped through the multiverse where I replaced my other self and continued living my life but we don’t need to worry at all about that ok) Anyways if you dont destroy the universe then first of all kudos to you you do not have a skill issue in fact you have an un skill issue which is really cool. So float around in that sun for like 6-7 years which will feel like nothing after your long ship ride trust and then go outside of the sun. At this point, your scrambled eggs shouldhave completely incinerated and all you have left is the ashes. Go back to your spaceship and grieve and scream and cry with the mascots the whole way back because of the loss of your scrambled eggs. Make sure you consistently grieve for the entire time of 10,000 years otherwise the mascots will be mad at your lack of sorrowfullness and throw you off the ship which would be very very sad. So go home and organize a scrambled eggs funeral with all of his scrambled eggs friends (if your scrambled eggs do not hav efriends then what are you doing you should have let him socialize and spread his wings but no you were a helicopter parent instead and you didn;t let your little baby scrambled eggs spread their wings and make friends instead you homeschooled them and you were there only friend which is really sad and not good for the developmental stage of the dcrambled eggs which can really affect their mental and in the long run physical health because they don’t have social skills or anything like that but anyways if they don’t have friends just make them some and bribe them with hot sauce and omelette ingredients because all eggs want to upgrade to an omelette or something like that) so anyways hold a very nice funeral and ivite all your friends and family because this scrambled egg was everything toyou he was wih you throught eh ups and downs of life (you should inlcude that in your speech I don’t care if you have stage fright deal with it man it really just sounds like a major skill issue like come on get over it you too scared ahaha thats so sad because the scrambled eggs deserve all of your respect and dedication becaause they had a bright future and you messed it up by following this terrible recipe like what did you expect you thought they were going to turn out good? These eggs had a future and you destroyed it, so sad and bad.. that's not very nice. I am very disappointed in you man.
677 words:
You know climate change. The really important thing that literally decides the fate of our entire lives, and like anything that is important, like our air, water, or the literal ground we stand on, you know? Well apparently some people think it doesn’t exist, or that it's not important enough to worry about? Like what? There are scientists who literally try to warn us everyday about the fact that we are killing everything, animals, plants, we are poisoning the ground, we are tainting our air and water, and the effects are so obvious! The cold season is shorter, there is less snow, the air is unclean, clean water is not available to many communities, but just because we don’t receive the brunt of these effects, we act like they don’t exist. We pretend that because everything is fine and dandy (or if everything is not fine and dandy) because we are not experiencing these things directly, or at least not in such a serious way that it can affect us so much that we cannot live our normal lives or adapt to it. But there are people out there being affected by it every day, whether that is hurricanes, volcanoes, earthquakes, tornadoes, wildfires, temperature changes that are extreme, drought, floods, or so much more. And everyday, each and everyone one of us slowly push it further and further until it's going to fall and there will be no going back. You know, people say that when we inevitably die out, the earth will most likely survive, and slowly recover, whilst we will be gone forever. But once again, no one caresses, and like why not??? like it's really not that hard. Just avoid packaged food, reuse plastic bags, use paper/reusable bags, at this point in time, everything has a sustainable option, we just don’t bother to look for them. And yes I do mean everything. Deodorant, period supplies, soap, shampoo, laundry detergent, literally everything. Maybe eat less meat, make more of your own food, take shorter showers, try and get an electric vehicle, or just tell other people what is happening. It’s so easy to just contribute in the smallest ways, and it's always possible to do so. Because if we don’t, then everything, everyone that you know can be hurt. and I know it feels impossible. It feels impossible in my head too but we all have to try for the sake of everyone and everything. It’s just too important to ignore. Everyone knows this, from animals, to kids, actually some kids are more informed than adults, so tell your parents, to plants to literally everything that exists. But not everyone does anything about it. The animals are also affected, so if you love your dog or cat or bird or whatever you have please just try. Animals are also living things, and many beautiful rare species are also being killed and have already gone extinct purely because of climate change. All of these beautiful creatures are being killed all because of our mistakes and wrongdoings. Whether they die from habitat loss, pollution, poisoning in food or water, or unfortunately poaching, which between that and hunting (which is better but still bad) can decimate animal populations like elephants who have no real defence against humans. They have not evolved against our bullets and cannons and weapons so we slaughter them without mercy. They are living beings just like us, not different in the fact that they all have a spark of life inside of them.
We should care, we should make people suffer through what others do to make them understand and stop being bratty and make them care and maybe just maybe we could make a change. It is prob never going back to the way it used to be because of our damage. We bring so much damage that we all commit terrible things, yet no one cares. Not unless you kill someone or smth like that. We kind do deserve torture as in the people who don’t understand and NEED to understand.
957 words:
Bob was making spaghetti. He made the pasta by placing it in a large pan and cooking it at full heat for 8 minutes. He cut the pasta with scissors to see if it was cooked almost all the way through. He tasted a little bit and it was very yummy and very scrumptious and delicious. So then he decided to make sauce from scratch. He placed the tomatoes in a pan and covered it. The tomatoes slowly softened but they were taking far far too long. They were still hard and he was scared that it would burn before it coooked.. So bob put it on a lower heat and began to smush the tomatoes. He also decided to add some warm pasta water which because it was filled with starch it would be yummy and delicious and very very very scrumptious. Then Bob realized he forgot the garlic. So he chopped up some garlic, added some olive oil to help cook it so it would be nice and delicious and very very scrumptious, then mixed it all together. Then bob obviously added some salt, because most savoury foods would be very very disgusting and repulsive and not good without salt. So bob added the salt without measuring because bob is a very good cook. Then Bob wanted to add some spiciness because Bob really likes spicy and savoury foods that are nice and very yummy and very very delicious and very very scrumptious. So he added some red chili flakes that he got from costco that are nice and delicious and very very spicy and added in lots and lots so that it was nice and spicy. Finally, he added some parmesan cheese. This is because even though bob is lactose intolerant bob really likes cheese so bob decided it was worth it to add some delicious parmesan cheese into his pasta because parmesan cheese is the only cheese that should ever go into pasta or spaghetti or any italian pasta dish because parmesan is superior and delicious. THen bob decided that while the sauce was cooling it would be a good idea to just eat plain parmesan because parmesan is very very good and very very delicious and scrumptious and bob felt happy but had a sense of dread because if you remember bob is lactose intolerant and having plain parmesan was not going to help him. But Bob decided he didn’t need to worry about that right now and mixed his pasta and sauce together to make delicious spaghetti, and of course he added some more parmesan on top because parmesan is very good, delicious and very scrumptious. Finally he tried it and realized that it was very very good and delicious. It was very nice and spicy and tangy and bitter but sweet and his mouth watered every single time he took a bite. Bob was very very happy with how his pasta turned out, so bob decided to open a pasta stand and give everyone he knew lots and lots of free pasta because everyone loves pasta and everyone loved bob’s pasta, so bob became famous and traveled the world sharing his pasta with everyone because it was so good that everyone kept coming back for more and more because it was so addicting and delicious. After 10 years Bob decided that he was tired of making spaghetti so Bob decided to retire and started making delicious handmade pizza. He started by rolling out the dough on a cutting board that was dusted with flour so that it wouldn’t stick, and he rolled it into such a perfect circle that pi gasped and fainted. Then he added pizza sauce except that pizza sauce was a modified version of his pasta sauce with lots of parmesan because Bob was still very much lactose intolerant and still very much in love with lactose. So he spread his sauce on the pizza and still left enough on the edge to make a nice and crispy crust. Next he got lots and lots of shredded mozzarella and ate a lot of it plain because despite his lactose intolerance Bob still loved cheese and would always and forever love cheese because cheese is cheese and it is very delicious. NExt he cut up onions because onions are delicious and anyone who says otherwise have bad taste. Of course they taste good cooked, not raw. I don’t understand people who like onion raw. Anyways he sliced it up and put it on the pizza. Then he sliced up bell peppers. Bell peppers taste good cooked and raw but raw is always better with a dip like ranch or something. It's still good plain though. He sliced it up in all the different colors, red, orange, yellow, and green, and when Bob put it on the pizza it looked like a rainbow and Bob was so happy. Then Bob decided to slice mushrooms. Please do not eat mushrooms raw. I don't think that that is very good for you. Also mushrooms have a lot of water in them so bob sliced them thin so that the water would not make the pizza all soggy and gross. He cut them by slicing them in half and then cutting them into slices. Bob was very tempted to try a raw one but don’t worry I stopped him. Next Bob put olives. Olives are delicious raw and very delicious and scrumptious cooked as well, and I will not listen to anyone who says otherwise because they are very wrong because olives are the best. Bob ate several raw olives while slicing them, and thankfully he is not olive intolerant. So then bob sliced them up and put them on the pizza.