October 24th, 2012

1026 - Shower

April was bone tired after she got home from work. The fact that she managed to drive all the way home that night was almost a miracle. She only got honked at once for not noticing that the light had turned green as she rested her eyes at a red light. All in all, she counted it as a success. Work had been dismal. She was there for 10 hours straight and the rush of customers was never ending. Not to mention, the number of assholes who insisted that she made their coffee — no, sorry, their Grande Non Fat, No Whip, 2 Pump, White Chocolate Mocha — wrong, and that she needed to remake it.


All she wanted to do was take a shower, pour a glass of wine and curl up on the couch with a marathon of Law and Order SVU or Criminal Minds, or whatever the hell was on Ion TV tonight. It was always good for mindless television. And seeing the lives those people led made her feel like her job wasn’t quite as horrible. At least she never had to tell a 16 year old rape victim that their rapist would go free unless they got over their PTSD and go on the stand, despite the fact that they already had some sort of horrible anxiety disorder even before getting raped. 

Yeah. All in all, life wasn’t all that shitty.

But all April had eyes for right now was a nice hot shower. Her feet were throbbing with pain, to the point where she could swear she could feel her pulse beating in her soles. She wanted to burn her stupid green apron and tear off that ill fitting black polo shirt. Instead, she weakly lifted her sore arms to remove both articles, then shed the rest of her clothing, depositing it all promptly on the bathroom floor. She turned on the water and waited for it to get hot as she combed the tangles out of her hair.

It had been in a ponytail all day and kept that form as she pulled the hair tie free. She groaned, feeling gross, and began combing. Her eyes fell shut as she went through the now mechanical motions of getting ready to shower. April wasn’t one hundred percent sure she didn’t fall asleep waiting for the water to warm up. When she opened her eyes again, steam was filling the small bathroom and she sighed, climbing into the shower.

The hot water felt awesome against her sore muscles. She just stood there under the spray, letting it work its tiny-beads-of-burning-hot-water-pelting-skin magic. A happy hum reverberated around her chest and she contemplated what it would be like to have a bed in the shower. It wouldn’t work, of course, because eventually the water would turn cold and everything would get soggy. Not to mention, she’d eventually turn all pruny, which just wasn’t a great look. But for now, the shower felt like the best thing in the world and she was in no hurry to get out.

Nor was she in any hurry to really get clean, for that matter. It was probably a full five minutes before she managed to get the energy to actually grab the shampoo bottle and start washing her hair. Slow and steady, like the tortoise, April got herself clean. There were a couple wobbles here and there as her body seemed to forget she was still actually awake and moving, but she managed alright. After deciding that she wasn’t ready to get out of the wonderful warmth of the shower and face the cold world outside the bathroom, April resolved to shave her legs. 

She grabbed the razor off the side of the tub and set the protective cover aside. With one hand braced on the wall of the shower, she lifted her leg, resting her foot on the useless little soap dish attached to the wall. It was a perfectly good soap dish, actually, with a little loop where a washcloth could be hung. Unfortunately, it was situated right in line of the spray of the shower, resulting in soap wasting away unused much faster than it should have. Besides all this, April used body wash that came in a bottle, anyway. Regardless, it was the perfect thing to rest your foot upon whilst shaving your legs, which is exactly what she used it for every time.

Being too lazy to ever bother with shaving cream, she quickly lathered her leg with aforementioned body wash and began shaving. It all went fairly well, except towards the end of the first leg, the water began losing that happy warmth as occasional cold sprays splashed against her skin. Cursing, April rinsed her leg, watching the foamy soap wash down the tub and set her foot back down before lifting the other. 

Apparently moving quickly to switch from one leg to the other in a manner of a tired woman trying to avoid cold water of her once perfect shower was not the wisest course of action on this particular evening though, as April soon found out. For, the moment she set her foot down, she slipped on the soapy water and fell. She reached out to brace herself, falling towards the right side of the shower. Unfortunately, the shower wall was on the left side and the curtain on the right, so her hand only met with the slippery plastic surface. She grabbed for purchase and only managed to change the direction of her fall. 

While she managed to avoid a nasty bruise to the hip by way of falling into the side of the tub, she did not manage to avoid the hard metal faucet that was currently in a game of chicken verse her head. All her flailing could do no good now, as she dragged half the shower curtain off its cheap plastic hooks (to be fair, the hooks held, it was the curtain that tore) and careened forward. Her last thoughts as she stared down the silver faucet that would likely crack her skull was, “Well, this is going to be embarrassing.”

September 5th, 2012

427 - Artist

The soft patter of rain falling outside was the only sound that filled the studio as Josie sat, sketch pad in lap, working on her latest piece. Her head was canted to the side, a tumble of long dark curls fell over her right shoulder. The pose left her long neck exposed and only the thin strip of fabric from her cotton tank top covered her shoulder. The white fabric stood out on her dark skin. 

Angela leaned against the doorway to the studio, watching her lover’s profile as she sketched. She stalked forward on silent bare feet and leaned down to press a soft kiss to that bare neck. Green eyes glanced up to catch the little smile on Josie’s face at the action. She loved the way that smile made her nose crinkle, and white teeth peeked out from behind dark lips. Angela also loved the way Josie shyly pulled her chin to her chest as the kisses continued up her neck.

It made Angela laugh softly, then place a sweeter kiss to the woman’s cheek. 

“How’s the drawing coming.” She peeked over Josie’s shoulder down at the sketch pad, resting on crossed legs. Josie had an adorable bohemian style, she was partial to layers and long, colorful skirts with scarves wrapped about her hips. It was feminine and beautiful and made Angela want to wrap her arms about the woman and twirl her around.

Her style was a contrast to Angela’s, as she was more inclined to wear tight jeans, torn at the knee and heel paired with black tee-shirts, preferably with a band’s logo drawn across the chest. Her hair was cropped short and dirty blond streaked with highlights, her skin was fair. 

“It’s coming…” Josie answered somewhat absently. “Working on the shading now.” She leaned back and held up the pad to show the drawing to Angela.

“Looks good.” She said warmly and wrapped her arms about Josie’s shoulders in a half hug from behind. “Just came in to tell you that dinner’ll be ready in five, babe.”

“M’kay, I’ll be there in a minute.” Josie dropped her head back to rest on Angela’s shoulder, then tipped to the side so she could smile at her.

“Good, ‘cause it’s gonna be awesome.” Angela stole a swift kiss from Josie’s lips, then pulled away, heading out of the studio to leave Josie to her work. 

Josie watched her go, looking back over her shoulder to admire the sway of Angela’s broad hips as she sauntered out of the room. She loved that woman. 

copyright © 2012, 533 words

November 3rd, 2011

518 - NaNo

I’ve written more than 518 words today. In fact, thus far I’ve nearly got 1200 words written (not exactly the 1667 I should have…) But I liked this excerpt of Jaya and his mother talking and felt like throwing it up here for fun. 


“Have you spoken to Adelais about it, yet? It does concern her, after all.”

“Not as of yet, no,” Nilam frowned.

“Were you planning on telling her when the Prince of Kaden showed up ready to meet her?” Jaya raised a brow at his mother, thinking she was better than that, at least.

“Of course not, Jaya, and don’t be so rude. It is unbecoming of a prince,” Nilam glared at her son for his disrespect. “I will inform her before the prince arrives to meet her, naturally. I will just be certain she does not have time to foil the plans or run away before he gets here.”

Jaya sighed and shook his head. His mother did not question the gesture, so he continued on the subject, “So you intend to try and make her marry him?”

“I intend to make her meet him, at the very least. We can decide on the marriage based on his presence here in the palace and the terms the Kaden’s King offers up.”

“It is a wise decision, to be sure, to unite our countries. Kaden would make for a strong ally and the marriage would be the perfect way to hold them at our side. If we decline, we’ll need something else to tempt them with to keep them as our ally.”

“Jaya, we are hardly in danger of war with anyone; having strong allies is not as grave as you make it sound,” Nilam shook her head. “Besides which, Tülat is a wealthy country, it was Kaden who began the proposals, because they want us as their ally. We are the powerful stone in the game, not them.”

“That was when Father was still alive,” Jaya pointed out, frowning. “What must everyone think of us now, with you, a foreigner to Tülat, on the throne for less than a cycle before Adelais comes of age to be Empress?”

“You have so little faith in your mother, Jaya? And so little faith in your sister, too? Who should we have on the throne, then?” Nilam did not hide the annoyance in her tone.

“Father, of course, and it has nothing to do with my faith in either of you, Mother. It has everything to do with the rest of the world.”

“I fear that your father is currently unable to sit the throne, unless some brilliant mind I am unaware of has found the cure for death. The world will have to deal with the fact.”

“You aren’t listening, Mother. The world will deal with it, and the way they will deal with it is by looking very closely at what we do from here on out. The choices you make, the choices Adelais makes, will all play a large role in how the rest of the world judges the hold we have over our own country. If they see either of you as weak, then we may be in danger of war, after all. Our country is rich and our Emperor is dead, you can certainly follow the equation that is in the minds of our enemies, Mother.” 

copyright © 2011, 533 words

November 1st, 2011

668 - NaNo

Hey folks. Sorry it’s been forever and a day since I’ve written anything on here. I originally started this blog as a sort of homage to NaNoWriMo. It was supposed to be a way of practicing writing a whole lot without worrying too much about grammar and things like that. Sadly, I dropped off working on it. But it’s November 1st, which is the first day of NaNo and I’m going at it again! I managed to write some this morning and though, hell, why not, let’s post the opening seen to my “novel” on here! So, without further ado, here it is:


Adelais sat in the study, staring off at nothing at all. Nearby, her mother paced back and forth. She could tell by the swish of her mother’s dress as she moved and the soft thud of her fine shoes against the plush carpet. On the other couch, her little sister, Emmie, wept softly. Hearing the sound of weeping, Adelais closed her eyes, willing herself to not hear it. Emmie was so young; she could not understand the magnitude of what was going. All she knew was that something bad was happening to father, that mother was worried, that Adelais would not speaking to anyone and that Jaya was not in there with them.

Minutes passed, slowly. It felt like an eternity before Alfra, the medical advisor, finally opened the door. All eyes turned to the door as it opened and Adelais stood, speaking before anyone else, even before her mother, had a chance to say a word.

“How is he? What has happened?” Adelais lifted a hand to her chest, her fist clenched in fear as she gazed at Alfra with wide, worried eyes.

“Princess Adelais, please, sit. And you as well, Empress Nilam,” Alfra gestured to the empty places on the couch beside Emmie. He offered a smile to the young girl, who smiled back weakly through the tears and looked hopefully towards her mother. Nilam moved to sit beside her youngest daughter, putting an arm around the child before the pair of them looked expectantly to Adelais.

With gritted teeth, Adelais glanced between Alfra and her mother and sister, and then sighed before moving to stand near them. With her hands clenched into fists to keep her calm, Adelais refused to sit and instead waited.

“What is the news?” She demanded.

Alfra just sighed, knowing he would not win this battle, “Very bad, I’m afraid, my high ladies.” He looked to each in turn, Adelais, Nilam and finally Emmie, though most of his attention would stay on the former two. “Emperor Kava’s condition has become much worse. As you know, this morning he was no longer coherent, but it has only gone downhill from there. He has become weak, no longer able to hold himself up. We fear the sickness is in its final rounds.”

“Does that mean he’s going to get better now?” Little Emmie’s voice chirped up, scared and small.

Adelais rolled her eyes, but before she had a chance to say anything rude, Alfra’s kind voice broke in, “I’m afraid not, little Princess.” He moved to kneel on the ground in front of the couch and reached out a hand to rest on Emmie’s knee. “Your father is very, very ill and he isn’t getting any better.”

Emmie’s lip quivered and she looked up to her mother with tear-filled eyes. Nilam hugged her daughter and Emmie climbed into her mother’s lap and hid her face against her mother’s shoulder.

“How much longer?” Adelais’ voice cut into the scene, sounding gruff and angry. Alfra stood to look at her, his face still sympathetic.

“Not much longer, Princess, an hour, and perhaps more if we are lucky. If we are not…?” He shrugged helplessly. “It could only be moments.”

“Can I see him?” Adelais asked.

“Darling,” Nilam began, but the cutting look her daughter gave her silenced her words.

“Can I see him?” Adelais asked once more, giving each word careful enunciation.

“You can, of course, Princess. It is not my right to deny you a visit to your father. However, I must caution you, he will not be the father you know. He is in a very bad state right now, incoherent and almost unseeing. In all likelihood, he will not even recognize you and may have nothing to say but for gibberish.”

Adelais gritted her teeth again and clenched her fists tighter until her varnished nails dug into the palms of her hands. “I will see him.”

Alfra sighed but bowed his head in concession. “Alright, my high lady, you will see him.”

copyright © 2011, 533 words

July 17th, 2011

387 - Sunsets

James leaned back against Ari, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. He tipped his head and let it rest back against the other man’s shoulder, listening to the sounds of the cars driving past on the streets below. In the city, the only place they could get any peace and solitude was on the rooftop. So they went there every night to watch the sunset. Today, Ari was the only one watching it, because James had his eyes closed. He was listening to the sounds of the city, focusing on the feel of Ari behind him, arms wrapped around him.

It was a chilly night, late autumn. Once the sun was gone, it would be too cold to stay up there much longer, but neither of them wanted to move. Ari felt warm and comfortable and James didn’t want to leave him. He knew Ari wouldn’t want to leave, either. Up here, there was no one to judge them, no one to question them. They could sit close and relax here. They could hold one another without anyone staring. They could be themselves.

That was what James really loved, more than the sunsets. The sunset was Ari’s thing, and he was happy to share it with the man. More importantly, though, he was happy to share this private time with Ari. Just as James was letting his thoughts run away with him, Ari brought him back to himself. The other guy leaned down and kissed James’ neck. He could feel Ari smile against his skin after the kiss. 

Ari started the kiss at James’ neck, but his lips traveled up to James’ ear, where he whispered softly, “I don’t ever want to let you go.” He squeezed his arms around James, hugging him closer.

James laughed lightly, his breath fogging on the cold air, “I’m not going to let you let me go any time soon.”

Hearing that made Ari smile and he reached up a hand to stroke through James’ hair. Sighing happily, James tipped his head towards Ari’s hand, raised himself up and pressed a proper kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. The sun set behind them, casting the world into darkness, broken by lamplight all around the city. In the darkness and content solitude, the only light that mattered was in their hearts. 

copyright © 2011, 533 words

Note: Yeah, I don’t even know where my head was on this one. Sorry I didn’t make the word count, but I figured something too short was better than nothing at all.

July 16th, 2011

761 - Biker

Somewhere along the eastern coast of Washington state.

Seven years ago.

"Shit, it went this way!" John went running after the walker, Luke close on his heels. They both had their guns at the ready as the stumbled through the forest. They meant to finish the job and be out by dusk, but night had fallen hours ago and the job was FUBAR, to say the least. 

In the last half hour, John had sprained his ankle and Luke had torn half his shirt when he caught it on a tree. They were down to their last rounds of ammo and the walker kept evading them. At this point, they were less than half a mile from Redwood Highway and if they didn’t catch this thing, it could do some real damage to the motorists that might unfortunately choose that time to drive past.

"Fuck this, I’m going to kill this thing if it’s the last thing I do!" Luke drawled, his accent made thicker by anger, as he passed John, gun drawn. Suddenly, the creature paused for a moment. It’s tall, black form so still it almost got lost in the shadows around it. That’s why they called them shadow walkers, because they could vanish in the shadows and appear elsewhere, as if they had used the shadow as a means of teleportation. 

Luke could barely make it out, but thing cocked its head to the side, as if listening for a moment. Not listening to him, nor John, it surely knew where they were; it was listening to something else. Luke didn’t care, he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. He lifted his gun and shot the walker with every bullet left in his gun. The creature let out a shrieking howl, like metal scraping metal and charged at Luke. John caught up just in time to dive at Luke, grabbing him and pulling him out of the way with one arm while firing the few bullets left in his gun with his other. 

Of the dozen or so bullets they managed to fire at the creature, only half probably made contact, which slowed it down but didn’t kill it. The walkers could do a lot of damage in their last minutes of life and this one was mad as hell and now they were out of ammo. Stumbling to catch themselves and get running, John tried to lead them back to the Monaco. He knew exactly where they parked the car, he just had no idea where they were in the forest anymore.

In short, they were screwed. 

"We may just die here, Johnny…" Luke laughed bitterly. 

"Nah. We can’t die…" John said, while his partner pulled him along.

"You wanna tell that to this walker?" 

"We’re on a mission from God!" Johnny grinned and Luke might have punched him at that moment if it weren’t for the sound behind them catching their attention.

A motorcycle tore through the forest, heading straight for them and the walker. On the back of it rode a figure glad in black, wielding a shotgun in one hand. The gun was aimed straight at the walker and fired the moment it was within range. Whatever bullets were in the gun packed a punch, because it sent the walker flying. The thing smashed into a tree and fell to the ground. 

The biker skidded to a stop just in front of the walker and stood over the bike. Raising the shotgun again, the figure wasted no time shooting the walker in the head. It finally died there. John and Luke stopped running as they watched the scene play out before them. They looked at one another, then back at the shotgun-wielding motorcycle-driving tracker. 

"You’re welcome!" Came a female voice from beneath the helmet.

John and Luke looked at each other again, with more surprise in their eyes. They were both just rescued by a girl. John looked back at her first.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, surprise and something akin to awe in his voice.

"Name’s Elle." She pulled off her helmet and a tumble of long, blonde hair fell down from beneath it. She flashed a broad, toothy grin at the pair of them. "Don’t you forget it!"

It was dark, so John could have been mistaken, but he could have sworn she winked at them when she said that.

"And who might you boys be?" She put her hand on her hip, helmet under her arm. "Other than the idiots that nearly got themselves killed by one little walker?"

copyright © 2011, 533 words 

July 14th, 2011

707 - Essay

On why the husband of prodigalproblemchild should allow me to borrow his wife for the premier of Supernatural, season 7, on September 23, 2011

Supernatural is a fantastic show, one which I have been fluctuating levels of obsessed with for the last 6 years. I was a fan of the TV teen comedy drama Gilmore girls when it first came out and watched it with my mother as a form of bonding, because we are both kooky, like Rory and Lorelai. Supernatural began airing in 2005, directly following Gilmore girls and starred the somewhat cute boy, Dean, played by Jared Padalecki. We were amused by the fact that his character was named Sam and some other guy played a man named Dean. At any rate, being weirdos, my mom and I were pretty quickly hooked on the show Supernatural.

Sadly, though many of my friends were fans of Gilmore girls, they did not pick up on Supernatural at all. I spent the next 5 years alone in my fandom of Supernatural, occasionally trying to get other friends interested in the show, but failing each time. It was just too different or too weird or just not what they were interested in. Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that the only person I could obsess about the show with was my mother.

This changed around the end of season 5 and the beginning of season 6, when a friend of mine began watching it, but he never managed to keep up with the show, so I could never speak with him without fear of spoilers. Then another friend randomly discovered it before season 6 ended and plowed through the series. For the first time, I knew what it was like to have someone else to talk to about the show and it opened up a whole new world for me. 

When I joined tumblr, I didn’t expect to do much other than write these posts on 533words and make crochet-related posts on fyeahcrochetgoat and my personal blog shellygurumi, until I discovered the massive Supernatural fandom out here. The obsession took hold stronger than ever before. Having someone else to enjoy something with makes the enjoyment of it that much greater, because you get to feed off each other’s pleasure, laugh along with the jokes built up around 6 seasons of awesomeness, or cry when the characters we love are put through difficult situations. Being able to have someone else to say, “Nooo! Cas! Don’t! Oh god, Dean, just give him a hug and tell him it will be okay, PUH-LEASE!” makes all the difference in the world, sometimes. Because we are connected through the drama and the comedy. 

Season 7 is sure to be an emotional one, because of how things were left off in season 6, even with the Impala’s life hanging in the balance! We have to know what will happen with Castiel. We wait in fear of where the show will turn and what will happen. And for fear that it might turn in a direction that will leave us scared and confused, it helps to face this oncoming uncertainty with a friend who knows and understands why what comes in the next scene could mean bright smiles or big tears.

So I give you this plead, Husband to ProdigalProblemChild, let me borrow your wife for one night and let her watch the premier as it airs on cable. My home is mediocre and a bit of a drive away, I have to work on the following Saturday but I will open my doors to her, anyway! My TV isn’t very large, but we will see Supernatural at the time and date of the premier. As long as she isn’t allergic to cats, I promise she will return in good condition. We will feed and water her as necessary. And if Castiel makes her cry, I will give her a hug, but I will be certain not to steal her away from you.

In my final plea, my birthday is the Tuesday the follows said premier. So if nothing else, perhaps you can consider it a birthday present.

This ends my essay. I hope it gives you the answers you are searching for.

thefuturisticvintage replied to your post: So…


Well, for anyone who wants a link to aforementioned secret blog of smutty writing, send me an ask and I’ll reply with the link.

I can’t guarantee you’ll like anything I write there.

July 13th, 2011


I did write today. It was in the form of smut, though, so I posted it on my super secret blog of smut writing. Also, it was 3,438 words, because I cannot write PWP fiction if my life depends on it. So it’s all ~emotional~ and full of character personality.

Just felt like telling you guys that I wasn’t cheating on writing today.

Good night, folks!

July 10th, 2011

683 - Plans

"Oh hell, I never left the game, Elle," John willingly returned the hug from Elle. He never had any qualms with her and was actually glad to see her again. 

"Could have fooled me, Lone Ranger," She quirked a brow at him. "Either way, I’m sure a fan of seeing your ass again." With that, Elle reached down and gave John’s jean-clad backside a firm squeeze.

John kept a poker face as he looked over at Elle, barely two inches shorter than him. “I could return that favor if you want.”

Laughing, Elle moved her hand and stepped back, “Not sure I’d mind if you did, big boy. But I’m tired and hungry, let’s get us some chow and go over the plan, how ‘bout?” 

"Sounds good to me! I’m starving!" Luke grinned and let go of Liss, already walking towards the country style restaurant not far from the rest area. Liss glanced at Elle, almost as if asking permission, then ran off after Luke towards the restaurant. She stayed close beside him the whole while.

John glanced at Elle with a raised brow, then started walking. She fell into step beside him. “So… Liss,” John began.

"Yep, she’s got it bad," Elle nodded, laughing.

John shook his head, rolling his eyes at the same time, “I’ll talk to him about it later.”

"Uh, you know, John-boy, I wouldn’t suggest that," Elle’s voice went soft as she watched the pair not far ahead of them.

"What, does he like her, too?" John’s eyes were on Elle, but his voice was low enough that Liss and Luke weren’t likely to hear over the rush of cars on the road nearby.

"Oh, you know, he likes her like a brother, but it ain’ really your place to be telling him things like that, anymore."

Elle’s words hit John like a ton of bricks and his chest felt tight for a moment. Pressing his lips together, he said nothing and just nodded. John remained silent until they were seated in the restaurant, but Elle watched him with sympathy in her eyes.

They all sat in a booth, John beside Elle, Luke across from him with Liss at Luke’s side. John rarely managed to meet Luke’s eyes, despite being directly across from the man. He kept his gaze mostly on the menu, his food or the girls. He couldn’t stand the hint of sadness and betrayal he kept seeing in those grey eyes.

"So, there’s a motel not far from here and close enough to the job site, figure we could stay there," Elle began the business talk. "It’s probably too late to go out to the site tonight, this close to sundown."

"We’ll check it out at first light," Luke agreed. "How many nests do we figure we’re dealing with?"

"Four, from what the reports look like," Liss chimed in. "They’re all spaced out, though, about three miles between."

"Fast as they are, though, three miles is nothing for them," John said. "Do we think that if they catch wind of our presence at one nest, the others will come to defend?"

"That’s a nerve-wracking question. They’ve never been in packs before…" Luke frowned, looking at Liss for her answer.

"It’s hard to say," Liss mirrored Luke’s frown as she met his gaze. "There’s no data on how they’ve been attacking anyone in the area, just the descriptions of the victims. The victims do appear to be more torn up than usual, but just two walkers attacking as opposed to one would give that result."

"Not to mention, these were just regular folks walking into the wrong part of the forest. It will have to be a different story when we go in fighting," Elle’s words caused murmurs of agreement from the others at the table.

"We’ll have to be a lot more cautious than usual in this case, guys," John’s voice was grim and he looked at each of them in turn: Elle, Liss and Luke, finally meeting his eyes and holding his gaze in the end. "This may be our most dangerous tracking yet."

copyright © 2011, 533 words

Note: Chapter guide now available. Shows how each post of this story fits together so far.