friedmermaidtails

"If you want to be happy, do not dwell in the past, do not worry about the future, focus on living fully in the present." ― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart Chapter Two Ride of Reflection Aside from the chanting trolls below, the air was silent. It harbored an awkwardness; a bitterness that neither Creek nor Branch were willing to address. They had few topics to speak of, so they simply didn't speak at all. Whether it added to the strain or lessened it, that was hard to place. Creek's eyes were closed as he lowly hummed to himself, allowing him to turn a temporarily blind eye to the situation. Branch, however, didn't allow hi

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together." ― Marilyn Monroe Chapter One The Journey Home Creek gasped, his breath ragged from fear, and his eyes broadened. He bolted upright, glancing at his surroundings. His eyes darted from one point to another at a dizzying speed, yet he somehow registered enough of the surroundings to notice it was nighttime and he was outside. "Wh-," h

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." ― Winston S. Churchill Chapter Seventeen Curtain Call A month had expired, each day stuffy with anxiety. Waylon and Burns spoke shortly with each other, their conversations stiff fragments. There was no talk of the dinner nor of how it ended, despite it being the main topic on each of their minds. Outside of work, there was no talk at all. Burns was hunched over his desk, his eyes skimming a stack of papers. He'd been scanning that same stack for a month, never editing it or making any comments, simply reading and re-reading. The behavior was q

Author’s Note: This story is based on both a dream and a role-play. The dream was had by my sister-from-another-mister, XMountaindewAddictX. The role-play was (obviously) between the two of us. In the role-play, she played the parts of Boris and Rosie, and I played the parts of Doris and Caillou. This is a serious “Caillou” story. There are many stories under this category that are dubbed as “troll fics”, so if you’re looking for a hate story, this isn’t one of them. In terms of the issues handled in this story: I know the speculation of Caillou having cancer is just that – a speculation. I kn

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." ― Ralph Waldo Emerson Chapter Sixteen That's a Wrap "Smithers, please," Burns began with an atypical plea, following Waylon to the door and grasping his shoulder, "do you have any idea how many strings I had to pull to get you here? Now, buck up and let's finish this dinner." "I'd rather not." "It wasn't a question, Smithers," Burns continued, his voice stern and his glare firm. He made a motion to block the door, his eyes narrowing on Waylon's made-up face. "Ahem-," Burns cleared his throat, gesturing his elbow toward

"The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off." ― Joe Klaas, Twelve Steps to Happiness Chapter Fifteen The Final Act Despite sitting in such close proximity to the others, Marbielle seemed drastically distant. Her brunette curls concealed part of her face, which hadn't arose from staring at the plate despite it having been filled before her eyes, and her mind was clearly more gone than her gaze. Her hands rested still in her lap, while the inner workings of Waylon could only attempt to process the situation. He was perhaps the most distant, tucked away in the mind of his own creation. He trialed hundreds of scenarios

"If I didn't think, I'd be much happier; if I didn't have any sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time." ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath Chapter Fourteen The Beginning of the End Communication had been scarce and strained as dominoes continued to fall. Julio managed to stifle a laugh at Waylon's comment, but it did little to mask the smirk. Greeted with a glare, Julio allowed his smug expression to fade, and he arose from the couch. He approached the other, clapping a hand on a broad shoulder. "I think that can be arranged," he countered, hoping to lighten the mood,

"After a certain point, a heart with so many stress fractures can never be anything but broken." ― Jodi Picoult, Salem Falls Chapter Thirteen Behind the Scenes "Oh, stop with all the theatrics, Waylon," Burns shushed, nonchalantly approaching the other and taking a seat next to him atop the chest. "You're not on stage anymore." "Then why are you still calling me Maribelle, hmm? If you want me to stop acting, maybe you should do so yourself, sir." Burns' eyes sparked with a conflicting mixture of offense and excited shock. He chuckled lowly, icily as he lowered his head and placed a hand atop Waylon's shoulder. "I must say, Smither

"Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love." ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov Chapter Twelve The Show Must Go On The night of the show had arrived in a whirlwind, all days before it now a blur. There were no memories of anything before it and no thoughts of anything beyond it; there was only the moment itself, and Waylon was okay with that (it gave him less to worry about). He had once again found him

"The worst thing that could happen had finally happened. And there was a kind of relief in it, maybe." ― John Green, Let It Snow Chapter Eleven Advertisements of Affection Perhaps it was the depressive overlay dressing Monty's voice or the strangely emotionless expression drawn across his face that left Waylon struggling to breathe, but regardless the assistant skulked toward the desk at the opposite end of the room. There was certain darkness that enveloped the room despite the colossal windows painting the walls with the intense beams of the sun. It was a darkness that wasn't shown, but felt deeply and certainly within his being