Pisces, comes in between them & leans his head on Gemini's head, sighs:
Gemini, scrunches nose, laughs as she pats his cheek:
Whaaaaat..., your so clingy. You could at least say hi to my friends
Pisces, pouts a little:
Pisces, in a 'gentleman from the late 1800's ' accent:
Why hello there gentlemen and how do you do to you ma'dams. Please excuse my rudeness as of where I was simply stating my place rightfully near my lady. I do respect her dearest privacy and independence but it would seem to appear that one good fellow here seemed to have forgotten that Gemini is currently in relations with me. I do not own her, since I have, in the words of Beyoncé, 'put a ring on it', but I have invested countless hours of being a decent human being just for her and I would not like for all that effort to go to waste.
Pisces, glances at the fellow:
Now please sir, back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up
And this is why I like him so much
he’s sitting ‘pon the curb, just outside his family’s brand new apartment building ( he’d disagree though // it looked everything but brand new ). blue eyes are downcast at the pavement, knees covered with blue band-aids, hands twisting themselves together on his lap. he already hates it here ( he barely understands what anyone says to him // the place is frighteningly unfamiliar // he misses his cousins back home ). his fingers distract themselves by pulling the black socks that came up to his battered knees higher.
‘ ‘sn’t fair. not fair ‘t o’ll. ’
he hugs his legs tighter to his chest. ‘ i want t’ go home… ’ japan was not the place for him.
you bury your heart in the cemetery // toss the dirt // grow flowers over the top // and hope one day// someone will notice // that a beautiful soul escaped a body // so full of potential // and that they will try to give it back // but finding a person who’s skin is scarred // in all the right places // and who’s hands are clean of blood // but not of pain // is like trying to find a leaf on a tree in winter // one that died two summers ago // it is like trying to pluck the strings of your mothers guitar // when your mother is dead // and the melody is your tears hitting the wood // it is like looking in all the mirrors// for a person you used to know // it is like hope // when everything around you is death // it is like trying to find your shadow // in a room without any light // it is like // you’re never coming home // it is like // giving up// it is like // you never really wanted it back anyway
finally got in a custom accent I made for my clan leader, who sports a bat mask and some feathers. I have to redo his apparel now that it’s in, but it’s nice finally having it done!
kind of thinking of releasing a series of accents, with masks of different types in this style. hmm
i wanted to get some halloween stuff out but i ended up working on this instead. leafy sea coatl :0. i don’t like it on white but it’s ok on most other colors
i don’t think it’ll get in on the first try bc i’ve never done this much with tinting the lines before but we’ll see
before i attempt to print it, things i’m thinking of changing: -gills. sea dragons don’t have gills like that so i might leave them out? -the color on the curly things, not sure i like it colored. or maybe i’ll make it more glassy? -glowing dots. i think i like them but it’s kind of random -the blue tint on the wings. think i’ll leave it but not sure -maybe add some texture to the wings? it looks okay on gene’d dragons though, for the most part
‘ one thing ‘ve never quite understood is why ‘tour diets’ are a thing. ‘ow can someone eat a proper salad n’ go out jumpin’ ‘round all bloody night ? let me just say fuck that, give me a burger n’ a nap until half six. ’
Your first week at the new high school was an uneventful one. Faculty had helped you settle in before classes began, and with your desk set up, the classroom decorated, you had felt ready to tackle the sophomore Spanish class. The rest of the Foreign language department had made their introductions, save for one mysterious and very absent figure.
When you had asked why, they had all laughed.
No one taught like she taught. She didn’t need to show up to meetings to keep her job.
You’d be lying if the thought of her didn’t terrify you.
(it also definitely explains why you were accepted as the Spanish teacher instead of the French teacher)