apology-ish

Fish are Friends, Not Dues || Bruce & Jessica // AU

Late! Late and it was only the second time this week- Late, and it was only one bad week after a string of worse meetings, and she’d promised to do better–
Jessica’s heels hit the floor hard with sharp clicks echoing through the old tiling of the Toontown Community center. She sped past the welcome desk and its corkboard, sparsely plastered with information on the day’s happenings– Her mind was elsewhere.

It was bad enough that she was late, but after her slight spat with Roger the night before– She’d lost her patience and her temper over burning dinner, and had snapped at him; she’d apologized but she still felt wretched– and the events of the last meeting she’d attended, her nerves were a little… Frayed.
She stopped in front of the elevator with a comical skid, panting slightly. Toontown being Toontown, however, showed the little light-up lever rolling it’s way down from 99 floors (though last she’d checked, the building had all of four) as slowly as possible. She swallowed, her foot tapping impatiently as she drew her bag up on her shoulder, and spun a worn coin between her fingers nervously:

“It’ll be fine. No one expects perfection,” She murmured, more to herself than anything, “And they’ll understand. That’s why we’re here.”
                                   Eighty, seventy nine, seventy eight…

Laughterunderstanding, remembrance, and care,” she muttered, the words worn on her tongue like a mantra. The elevator dinged at fifty, indicating someone on or off, and she bit back a groan as she eyed the door to the stairs.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. With that, she was shouldering the door open and hurrying up the two flights to the second floor. Easy! She’d be just a little-
       “
Sorry I’m late, every-”

Jessica blinked in the doorway. This wasn’t the usual crowd, but judgement wasn’t part of the rhetoric for her meetings. They were accepting of all shapes and sorts, even– Er. These. Whomever they were. It looked, however, like everyone else from the usual crowd was late also! A slight sliver of hope lit her up, and she relaxed.
     “-One,” she ended carefully, and shut the door behind her, slipping the coin into her bag. She cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly, as she edged her way towards a chair.

So! She was late. But so was everyone else! 
        – At least, she hoped so.

So I was tagged by theprinceandthebookshelf to do the selfie thing majig (but I don’t really take selfies, so here some pictures of my fabulousness):

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fiionan

     top any ondorian to inquire after oromir the oldand they would tell you of his unfailing braveryof his proud head and noble face that all should be glad to followHarken unto any bard who sang honor’s praiseand inevitably oromir’s name would be belted out alongside his heroic peersTo think the man capable of bashfulness or evasion of any sort was laughable indeed

     etthose who knew him bestknew betterOnce that all had been a truth beyond contestation; but when he returned from warhe was not wholeThere was a tilt to his chin that was more humblethere was a timber to his tone that was more self-effacingSmall indeed was the number that could perceive the hollows his journey had carved out in himand none could definitively say what had then taken residence in themNone could definitively say some of those hollows had been carved by his own handhe would brook no close examination of them by other eyes

     t firstmany thought he was perhaps wearied by his many battles or else basking in the hard-won peace of his homelandThey thought he was so often busy with the affairs of his people because he could not stand to be idleThen the eyes of the ones he held in closest confidence beheld behavior that could only be described as evasiveWhenever a certain dark-haired obbit’s name was mentionedhis booming voice fell silentWhenever rodo entered a roomhe suddenly recalled some urgent business

     oromir continued in this manner until he at last found himself in the same room as the obbit with no honest reason to slip awayGrey eyes looked to the ceiling to examine a cobwebthey looked out a window to the breeze flitting past an errant weedthey looked to his sleeve which he noted needed a bit of mendingNever did they look to rodoAt lengthhe cleared his throat to speak,"Ꮋow do you fare?" There was a hesitation that lurked just behind his wordsOhthe millions of things he wished he could saythe millions of apologies

anonymous asked:

"... The only part that is spiky and coarse is the stuff on her butt." That must make certain... Activities with other difficult, no?

[[*PAPS* hey now! 

But an actual answer, no. Its still just, fur, just really thick rough fur that stands up, rather than the rest of her which is pretty much 110% fluff. She doesn’t have the ‘quill’ like ability of a Jolteon so, somewhat, in the way maybe but no more than a large tail would be.]]

Apologies for being all wanky tonight

It is hot out (still in the 80s and it is after 10 PM) and I worked today and these immature/mean spirited/obnoxious people/ants are making my head hurt.

- Mama Raven

anonymous asked:

Skate 3

                    ☑     ғᴏʀ  ↬  greyface
                            meme   ↬  give vanille a video game


               ―   hm…can’t be too bad.
                      not that i know much about skatebording, but….

     ❋   –   so she booted up the game and made herself comfortable on the couch. she hummed softly as it went through the loading screens and she picked the difficulty and camera angles (why was that a thing to pick now?). and then she leaned forward a bit to read the text on the screen.

               ―   ooh!
                      that’s a neat idea.

     ❋   –   she laughed softly before she pressed the button to continue. she took…quite a while on the character creation section (since she wanted to make sure her character was cute), but then she was ready to play! she took the introductory tutorial lesson (it was smart that they included it), unfortunately, the tutorial took such a long time, she couldn’t get any further by the time she decided she was done for the day.

instagram

Whiplash- ish. (:

Suicide-Ish

Apologies, I’m writing on mobile at 5 am so this might have some awful formatting.

I want to shut down my internet presence, sort of. I want to get rid of Skype, where I used to speak my mind only to be ignored. I want to unfriend my internet friends on Facebook, which was a stupid thing to do in the first place. I want to block them on Twitter, and then they’d have no way to contact me..

But at the same time, I want them to talk to me. To be noticed. But they make me indirectly make me so angry. I laugh sometimes when I’m talking to them, but now I feel out of place. Like I’m not relevant anymore. Because I’m not. I’m not important.

I’m going to cut off all my ways of contacting them eventually. Probably before the summer’s over.

It’s not like any of them are going to see this, anyway.