Bluslvrlion - Boo

what if vampires are like mosquitoes and only the ladies drink blood

Send me to Mars with party supplies before next august 5th

In another life

When I say “the other day” it can be anytime between yesterday and my birth

Allow me to assure you, as a librarian, that if you as a concerned citizen present us with a list of Books that are Bad and should Not Be In Our Collection and which you Require us to Remove At Once, we will scan it for titles that we don’t have yet to add to our purchase list.

You know how we all joke that writers should stop writing kids in the Chosen One roles because they’re kids and have no experience, etc., and how older people would actually kick ass in that kind of role?

Try telling someone 30-60 years old that they need to put down all of their commitments because they need to save the universe. If it were a book trilogy, the first book would just be the messenger trying to convince the Chosen One that saving the universe is more important than them losing their job for not showing up, their pets home alone, or the risk that their insurance won’t cover whatever injuries they may sustain.

Divina: Our girlfriends are vicious killers! They can tear you apart!

Wednesday: Yes they are! You don’t want to fuck with us!

Yoko & Enid:

Yoko, embarrassed: Yeah you don’t want to fuck with us….

Enid on the verge of tears: Please, I don’t want to hurt myself.

People take names and especially surnames so damn seriously and act like they’re written in stone but the big secret here is they’re all fake, it’s all made up. David Tennant picked out his name at 16 because his real name was barred from the actor’s union he joined on account of their No Doubles Allowed rule, and he wound up naming himself after Neil Tennant from the Pet Shop Boys of all things, and now many years later his whole family carries on that same made-up name he committed to as a teenager. All names are made up and fake as hell, call yourself whatever feels right.

Being Villagers

Based off this story prompt/fill (X) where you are born with a designation like Hero, Demon King, Blacksmith, etc.

Your name is Dolly. You are a Villager. You, as well as anyone, know what that means.

——————-.

You are sixteen and it is your first day at school.

Your first lesson is that Villagers are the only ones who start so late.

“Because there’s not much to be taught,” a boy says. His clothes are made of finer cloth than your mother’s wedding dress and his hair is as shiny as the brass buckles on his shoes. He grins at you, as proud as a peacock in front of half the class. “Don’t need to ask what your Destiny is, do I?”

You don’t know why he’s singling you out. A quick glance back into the classroom shows the rest of the students sitting at their desks with their heads low. They’re Villagers too. Most of you are. That’s why there isn’t anything special enough about any of you. You look back at the boy. “…are you going to ask me something else?”

“What?”

“If you don’t need to ask me my Destiny,” you say slowly, “do you need to ask me something else?”

“I don’t need to ask anything from a Villager!” the boy cries. He jabs a finger at his own bicep where his mark lies under cloth. “I’m a Lord!”

“Okay,” you say. The other kids behind him are frowning at you. Some of them are Villagers too, but different from you. They’re the children of merchants which is a different sort of destiny altogether. “I need to run some errands for my mother. Will you let me pass?”

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