// Untitled//

I could write a love poem about you. 

Containing overused cliches and

cheesy pickup phrases.

I know you would read it,

and even giggle at my

feeble attempt at literature.

But something so simple couldn’t

even begin to describe you.

To write about you would require

me to borrow from

Shakespearean literature.

But his works, while sometimes beautiful

are worn and tired.

I want to create something new.

I want to find words that describe how it feels 

to be with you.

To hold you.

To kiss you.

But it’s impossible, my brain is too small

and I have put you up on a pedestal so high

that my affections border on worship.

// Pale//

He is your best friend.

And despite the fact that you desire your relationship to be more, you accept. The thought of pale infatuation are submerged deep within. But like all things that sink, they resurface. Of course, you have so many obligations that those feelings are drowned, over and over.

It is difficult, but you manage. In time, it seemingly becomes easier to suppress the urges that plague your mind.

Maybe it is your past experience that drives you to keep yourself at bay. Or maybe it is the fear of rejection, of losing the comfortable shell of friendship.

Then again, a lot has changed since these feelings began to swell in your chest. Your body can illuminate corridors, and you are now something between life and death. You have even taken a chance, in a different fashion. Leading the dance around the flushed quadrants and seeping deeper into saturated red. The same red that flows through the veins of your alien girlfriend. And you have taken up the role of caring for her, while she struggles with inhibiting beverages.

Every once in a while, your feelings resurface, despite your precautions. They slip through the cracks, and like vines coil themselves around your heart. And like a rose they bloom, releasing a plethora of emotions.

You don’t admit to these feelings until it’s too late. When you realize how you felt all along. It is a grim realization, and it happens when you watch the weapon puncture his small torso. When flickers of life leave his eyes, you feel it, somewhere deep in your chest. And you find it hard to breathe, though you have not used you lungs in years.

It is a sensation that reaches beyond grief. Even if your heart were torn from your chest at this moment, the pain would never compare. And though you know the two of you never shared a pale bond, you can’t help but feel responsible.

You failed him.

// Dave/Rose WIP//



You pause for a second, not sure if she is calling for you. Maybe she’s talking to another guy. She couldn’t be talking to you, even though it’s just the two of you in her bedroom.  Sometimes it just feels weird to hear her say your name so directly.

She lies on her back, her limbs stretching out to further skewer the messy sheets. Her unusually lavender eyes stare blankly at the white ceiling, and you can tell that she’s bored.

You clear your throat and you adjust your shades in the most subtle, but awkward way. Of course she’s probably not even paying attention to your little slip up, and you choose to play it cool. Wait, you don’t play it cool, you are cool. You’re a motherfucking Strider; they find your face next to the definition of cool. Yeah, you’re fucking awesome. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you rub your nose, and sniff loudly.

She shifts again, and this time, she is on her side. She is staring at you, and you feel a shiver go down your spine.  Her short white-blond hair falls over her face and her eyes are lidded.  Shit, she’s even more bored now.

“Dave, I’m talking to you.” She speaks so low that you have difficulties catching the words. Her voice trails off and it seems that the sound is lazy. She’s grown bored…of you.

“What’s up Rose?” The question leaves your mouth as a mumble. You hope that she doesn’t hear the way you hesitate when her name leaves your lips.

You’re sitting in a desk chair, not too far away from her. You watch as she sits up, her lanky arms swinging forward. She  moves like some sort of zombie creature. Yeah, she’s acting all weird and shit. since you’re not doing anything, she’s trying to amuse herself. Awesome.

She suddenly reaches for her head, and she holds it. You lift an eyebrow at this, watching as she shakes it.

“Dave, say something.”

(Source: strawberryqueersmoothie)

// Baths//

Fae was grateful that she was employed. Despite the fact she nearly died fighting her superiors. It was a part of the game. She always got into fights, and fought until she couldn’t. (In this case, she thought it, wise to back down.) She always had something to prove, some righteous cause. Or maybe it was pride, a thick shell that covered up her insecurities.

Fae shook these thoughts as she made her way to the baths. Being a part of the Dapper Gentlemen has its perks, one of them in the form of a proper bathhouse. Regular bathing was something she took for granted in the sewers. She could only bathe when she had the money, sometimes going weeks without. She cringed, memories of the pungent smell coming back to her.

By this time, she had relieved herself of her robe, and stepped into the bath.  She was glad that she was alone. She then sat down, sighing as water warmed her body, and relaxed her tired muscles.  She stretched out her legs, staring as she lazily lifted one out of the water before letting it sink again.

She sank deeper in the water, slouching until her knees surfaced. Her brown skin shimmered in the dimmed light of the room. White scars peppered her knees and exposed thighs.  The slivers of white danced up her skin, sometimes in the shape of slashes and crescents. She traced these scars up her leg, her eyes watching blankly.

“Hey there.”

Fae was snapped from her idleness, her head turning so fast that it threatened to break. She recovered quickly, relaxing at the familiar face.

“Ah, Chuntao, is it?”

She hadn’t known this woman long but found her intriguing nonetheless.  She was one of the original Dapper Gentlemen, and of noble status. But unlike herself, she was sure that she wasn’t of noble blood. Though Fae was not pretentious, she could tell a noble from the average citizen. She was one herself, of course.

“Yes, Fae- Duchess Fae.”

Fae cringed at the use of her title, and the mocking emphasis added to it. “Yes, but just Fae, please.”

Chuntao gave Fae a curt nod before shrugging off her robe, pool around her ankles. Fae adverted her eyes, even if she has noble blood, she still couldn’t look upon someone as high as Empress in the nude. It would be, improper.

She kept her gaze adverted, choosing focus on the torches instead. She waited until Chuntao had entered the bath before turning around.

The other woman glanced over at her, smiling slightly. “You nobles and your rules; we have the same parts.”

“It’s indecent,” Fae mumbled. “It’s just courtesy.”

Chuntao lifted an eyebrow. “You weren’t thinking about manners when you were trying to kick my ass. You didn’t hold back.”

Fae’s cheeks tinted pink and she sank in the water until she was beneath the surface. After a few moments she slowly resurface, her eyes avoiding Chuntao.

“I didn’t know you then. You were just some…”

“Some what?”


Chun’s green eyes narrowed, and for a second she looked like a cat ready to attack. Instead she kept her eyes on Fae as she pulled her curly hair into a messy bun.

Fae unconsciously pushed her dark wet bangs from her eyes. The orange light of the torches gave her red eyes a glowing effect as apprehension swirled in them. Though Fae still obeyed the rules of her class, she never held her tongue. A reason her father thought it proper to leave her body with enough scars to make her question her convictions.

Chuntao pressed her back against the edge of the bath and pushed a stray strand behind her ear. Her eyes were still narrowed, and only softened slightly.

“No wonder you get into fights and get all those scars. You don’t really know subtlety.” She motioned to Fae. “You do have the luck of being soft-spoken, though. So people usually don’t hear you.”

Fae pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning forward so that her chin rested on them.  Her eyes were lidded and her hair fell in a way that nearly covered them.  Her neck tingled as the hair moved and exposed the damp skin.

“It’s not like my mouth doesn’t get me in trouble. But I just…deal with the consequences.”

Chuntao’s shoulders slumped and her faces softened. She stared down at the water, watching as the reflective light was shattered when the surface rippled.

Fae watched this and swallowed thickly. Chuntao looked absolutely stunning in this setting. The light of the torches illuminated her back, giving her a glowing appearance. Her eyes pierced through the shadows, like emeralds that catch light.  The small amount of jewelry, earrings and a necklace, shimmered like the water on her skin.

Fae heard her heart thud obnoxiously in her ears, and she sat up and inhaled.  She hugged herself for a moment, trying to calm down her flustered reaction. She looked over at Chuntao again and those green eyes were on her. Quiet yet amused.

The other woman’s smile widened until it was a smirk. “Isn’t rude to stare, Duchess?”

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