writing books under the pine trees

I stopped writing about love for a moment. I stopped writing about you. Instead I wrote about freshly fallen snow, summer rain, newly cut grass, clothes fresh out of the dryer, tears of joy, tight hugs, old books, running through an open field under a blue sky, and sunsets. I wrote about starry skies and pine trees. I wrote about the city skyline and the way the hue of a morning’s coffee changes when you sweeten it. I wrote about every beautiful thing that doesn’t remind me of us. Yet somehow, even this became about you.
—  endless thoughts

my whole life has just.. passed me by so fucking fast. like. eighteen years of living is stuck in my head and half of that shit doesn’t even seem real anymore? i remember staring at the puddles on the street while walking home from preschool with my brother, and hitting myself in the face with one of those kiddie chairs and getting a bloody nose, and how my brother would make my lunch, eggs cut up into neat squares, ketchup, slice of toast. and my crib, i remember my crib, sitting their listening to the rain curled up in my loony tunes blanket and staring at the soft glow of the bedroom lamp, which was the only think that was turned on. I remember the first night i slept in my own bed, and watching the antique roadshow because nothing else was on, and the last day of kindergarten, where i got a boy to sign my yearbook by pretending to be a car and making him laugh. and i remember writing a dumb Narnia rip off in the first grade where all i did was just inserted me and my classmates in the story, and i begged the teacher to let me read it to the class, but i got embarrassed halfway through and changed all the names because i didn’t want people to think i was weird for writing about them. but my teacher put the book, which was really just printer paper stapled together with crude drawings, in our mini library, and a boy read it immediately after and came up to me later to tell me it was really cool that i wrote him into the story. and i remember making a diorama on the Kookaburra, cutting pictures of trees and flowers out of magazines while my mom knitted, pulling out moss from my backyard and gluing it onto the cardboard box. i was really proud of that diorama.

i made a bug hospital under a big pine tree in my backyard, tried to nurse dying moths back to health and take care of wounded spiders. ate strawberry popsicles on blankets in my backyard with my friend. i remember the first time i was able to ride a bike without falling, how good it felt. i remember my mom’s cookies, and the way she always ended up burning the breaded chicken she made. i remember trying to part my hair all the way to the side, how it was perpetually over one eye for the entirety of my 5th grade year. i remember writing music lyrics on my wrists and having a guy mistake it for my own poetry. i remember standing in department store’s makeup isles and smearing as much of their ‘try me!’ black eye shadow across my lids as i could. i remember buying bright red, dappled aquamarine, deep blue pants and pairing them with rainbow polka-dot rain boots, and calling that fashion. i remember the halls of my elementary school, the halls of my middle school, the way the doors looked, the way the carpet felt. 

i remember being that person, i remember living those moments, but it just all just seems so far away, at the same time? it’s frustrating to remember, and yet, not have those memories completely in my grasp. those times are gone. they’re gone and they’re not coming back. and.. i’m happy with where i’m at now. i’m in a better state than i ever was. but at the same time, i can’t help but feel like time has been taken from me. and it has, obviously, but part of me just wants those moments back.

anonymous asked:

Anything with jealous bill!!!

Have whatever this car crash is. I kinda forgot to finish it so sorry if it’s not top quality. Also, Dipper is somewhere in his late 20s in this. Same as Bill.

Bill inhaled deeply, resisting his urge to growl and snarl. He was trying to pay attention, trying to listen to what his Pine Tree was telling him, but the group of giggling girls on the other table drew his attention away from Dipper.
He knew exactly what they were thinking. He didn’t need to read their minds, their body language was enough. Their constant glances and blushing at his Pine Tree. He saw one of the girls- with long strawberry blonde hair and freckles across her face- stare at Dipper non-stop. Bill wasn’t even sure if the girl could even blink.
He glared at the girl, who ignored his threatening glares completely, and continued to stare at Dipper, twirling her hair. He gritted his teeth, almost leaping out of his chair as a voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Hey, Bill? You okay?” Dipper waved a hand in front of Bill’s face, snapping the demon’s attention back to his partner.

“Everything is all peachy, Pine Tree. Why do you ask?” He asked, feigning a smile. Dipper scrunched up his nose, not believing the demon who spoke too quickly.

“You sure? I mean, you seemed kinda out of it just then.” Dipper commented, staring at the blond in concern.
Bill sighed, melting at the sight of Dipper’s puppy eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Pine Tree. I don’t know, I just feel a headache coming on.” He rubbed his temples, closing his eyes briefly before standing up.
“I’m just going to the bathroom.” Bill walked away swiftly, not letting Dipper reply as he walked towards the bathroom of the café they were currently in.

After walking into one of the cubicles and locking it, he leaned against the wall. Slumping to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and leaning his forehead on them, he sighed.
He couldn’t let those girls get to him. Dipper was just a remarkably attractive human, of course he’d attract some unwanted attention. But Bill hated it. Dipper was his. And his only. He was sick of people giving Dipper looks as if Bill wasn’t there. He absolutely hated it. He was an all knowing, powerful demon from a different dimension for crying out loud. And here he was, hiding in the bathroom of a café, complaining to himself about the attention his lover received from people.
He groaned to himself. He was so confused. He wasn’t used to all this relationship stuff, and things just kept getting more confusing. That constant strain and pressure in his chest whenever he wasn’t around Dipper. The way his heart always fluttered when they cuddled up. The warmth he felt whenever they were close.
All new experiences for Bill. And now this…constant feeling of possession brimmed his mind any time Dipper was around a human he didn’t know. He didn’t understand. He was alright with Shooting Star or Red looking at Dipper, so why were these girls any different? Why was he always scared whenever Dipper talked to another person about his passions and life? Why did he fear that Dipper would leave him? Why did he fear that he wasn’t good enough?

Realising that he had been sitting in the bathroom for too long- snapped out of his thoughts as someone else entered the bathroom-, Bill stood up, washing his hands, and quickly left the bathroom.
However, as soon as he opened the door, a blush formed in his cheeks and his eyes flickered red as he glared.
The strawberry blonde girl was sitting in his seat, with her gaggle of friends still at their own table, but watching their ‘leader’ flirt with Dipper. Her hands were on top of Dipper’s, who seemed to not notice the girl flirting with him. Typical.

Bill picked up on some of the conversation, his marks on his shoulders and arms glowing dimly under his overly sized, yellow sweater.

“So, hot stuff….what do you do as a living?”

“Ah, well, I’m currently working at a gift shop. But I have a published book about the paranormal and I’m writing my second now. They’re not that world known though.”

“That’s so interesting. I’m working at the library in the next town. But hey! Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could do a reading a session and-”

The blond shuddered as his marks dimmed, scowling at the girl that was talking to, flirting with his Pine Tree. A muffled growl rose in his throat as the girl began rubbing his hands, Dipper too distracted by one of the other girls, who had walked over, talking to him to notice.

ThatismyPineTreenooneelseisallowedtotouchmyPineTreelikethathowdareshethatsuccubusthatwhoreI'llfuckingkillherwhyisshetouchinghim!!

He walked over- trying to contain his anger in public-, footsteps as quiet as a stalking feline. He smirked slightly as he made the humans jump at his sudden appearance as he pulled a chair over sitting next to Dipper.

“Jesus christ!” Dipper yelped out, breathing heavily slightly from the shock.
Bill leaned his arms on the table, his head in his hand and a face splitting grin upon his face.

“Nope! Better than Jesus!” He grinned.

“Oh shut up, Bill.” Dipper snorted. “I take it that you’re feeling okay then?”

“Of course, Pine Tree. But,” He turned to girls. Grinning with an evil glare in his eyes. “I could be better.” He almost hissed out, trying to sound calm in Dipper’s presence. However, the girls stared in stunned shock as his eyes flashed red for less that a second.

“So…err…as I was saying, are you free any time soon? I’d love to get a personal reading of your books. You know, straight from the author himself.” She smiled, fluttering her eyelashes.

Before Dipper could reply, Bill moved closer to his side, still grinning at the girls.
“I’m sorry, ladies. But this author only reads my contents page. “ His eyes flashed red again as he smirked. The girls gasped, their breath caught in their throat, as dark images of shadows dripping ink and blood filled their minds making young females yelp.

The girl sitting down, sat up straight up, eyes widening in shock at both the images and the realisation.
“O-oh I-I….are y-you two-…I errr….” She stuttered, stumbling as she began to stand up.
“I am so sorry. I-I thought you were friends- ohmygod- I’m sorry. We’ve gotta go!” She garbled out, her cheeks bright red as she hurried out, her friends briskly following.

Dipper watched as they left, turning back to his lover with a frown. Still oblivious to the girl’s flirts.
“What am I doing to your ‘contents page’?” He questioned, watching as Bill stood up.

“Well, if you really want to know Mr. Author, you can read my index page as well later.” Bill whispered in low a voice into Dipper’s ear, kissing his forehead before he sat back down. A blush spread across the brunet’s cheeks, glaring at the demon who only chuckled, cupping his mug of hot chocolate- noticing that Dipper remembered about his sweet tooth and adding marshmallows in the hot drink- as he leaned back.
“Oh, Pine Tree. I’ll make sure others know that you’re mine.”