Best( Fight club alternate ending/beginning)

Was too late to submit D:
Marla Singer got sick the third month of pregnancy and wasn’t sure what to do in the mornings anymore, she detested coffee and threw up twice the whole time.
She learned to play the guitar and smoke at the same time.
Sometimes she sat, hands on her extended belly blowing smoke in different directions in her small, grey apartment; head on the kitchen cupboards , legs extended out on the acid green linoleum, she forgot what kind of cigarettes, and what the fathers eyes were like, she tried to forget herself.
She went to a self-help group once, she knew she needed it.
He was sitting in a way contortionists lick their lips at, knees and arms a-jumble, name tag Cornelious in scrawling pen.
His eyes were baggy and glinting, no color but their glare.
She knew he wasn’t pregnant, lord he was male, and he didn’t need help from any single spouses anonymous group on Friday nights.
When his lips curled back, she knew somehow he spoke to no one his whole life and enjoyed it.
She grumbled into her coffee, it tasted like spit, puffed on her cigarette and briefly wondered how many arms she was condemning her child to have.
She moved her hands over her stomach, she was frail for motherhood; not scared but small, and he watched.
His eyes slid.
His mouth quirked in contempt.
He cried into her dingy t-shirt and left.
The baby died.
Marla was tired in the day and hungry at night.
She went to self-help groups and cried into peoples shirts.
She never saw Cornelius again.
She was hit by a bus on Tuesday and dies on a Friday, she felt it for the best.
After all, the ultra sounds announced two arms, one head and two legs.
All ten toes and fingers, and yet it died.
For the best.

This week:)

Is Kanda week :D
all my contest entrys have him in them!
next week I Think will be lenalee lee or rhode kamelot week,
not that anyone cares ;-;.
I Really really enjoy whoring Kanda around in heterosexual pairings and while doing such, drawing a sketch for the valentines day challenge I Stumbled across Rhode and Kanda.
Well koom bye ah my lord.
Its perfect, I Fell in love.
I Want to do doujin when my drawing improves.
Ahhhh<3
I Only have two dgm books for ALL My references(hair, clothes etc) so ive reread and got back into dgm lately :)
ONLINE.
Aaand all the cool kids are doing it, so thats me |

V

I Should have a bubble from my mouth saying Kandas babies ghhtrtfvh
haha<.<

Bad Touch

this is in EVERY way pg-13. mild language, kissing, grief. spoiler. yupppp.

Ino was late to her own Christmas party.
Of course, she had to be late, tonight of all nights.
Naruto, Sakura, Sai, Sasuke and Her own team were waiting for her.
As she hurried down the icy road, she quickly smoothed her long gold hair, now unrestrained and falling down her shoulders. She gave a hurried smooth-over to her red dress, the bottom just above her knee, fluffing out with lace. She shouldered her bag of snacks and sprinted to her door.
Seconds before she knocked, it opened and Naruto grinned at her, his cheeks unusually pink.
“Inooo! Merry Christmas! Is that food?!” He squealed and grabbed the bag, Ino was a little surprised but let the blonde riffle through the bag, find a bag of chips and bound off ;like a lucky squirrel with its nut.
Something was off.
As she entered the living room, where Sakura smiled at her and ran over to give her a small hug, and Sasuke sat nonplussed on the couch, she noticed a smell.
Was that alcohol?
“I!” Sakura and Ino turned to look at Naruto, who had shouted a single word rather loudly in their direction.
“I Will put mistletoe in every room of the house,” he stated solemnly, his cheeks still flushed.
“Because I am Uzumaki naruto! Believe it.” He yelled.
“Youre drunk.” Ino stated, her eyes flashing. The last thing she needed was some drunk buffoon acting crazy at her party.
“Sai brought it. “ Sakura muttered, her own cheeks a little flushed.
“He said he was informed this is what people do at parties.”
Ino stared, in disgust.
Her party was going to be ruined.
Because of some boy in a belly shirt.
“Hes bringing Shikamaru and choji, they should be here soon.” Sakura told her.
The door rang, and Ino tried to look like a hostess despite the blonde ninja hanging pieces of mistletoe everywhere and Sakura leaning provocatively in front of Sasuke.
That girl, its not like she had much of a chest anyways, Ino shrugged it off and opened the door.
Her team stood there, noses pink and cheeks flushed, arm in arm with Sai.
“We wish you a merry Christmas-“ Their abrupt caroling was cut off by Ino pulling them inside,
“You are the worst team ever!” She screamed.
‘”He-“ she pointed an accusatory finger at Sai,
“Is getting my guests drunk” They laughed and jostled past her. Ino was pissed.
Beyond pissed.
She was going to kick the crap out of them. But not Sasuke. She got herself a cup of punch and observed her guests.
Everyone seemed to be having an alright time, despite the alcohol in their blood. She smelled the annoying smell of smoke and followed the foul smell to the balcony. She downed her punch and threw the cup down.
Shikamaru was standing, elbows on the railing, his face down. He seemed much less jovial and very somber now, perhaps he was a sad drunk? Ino thought mockingly.
Shikamaru turned a little, seeing her, his eyes lazy and half opened.
His cigarette trailed smoke as he blew out.
Ino wasn’t sure what she saw in that moment, but to her it was the saddest touch in his eyes. A bad touch that hollowed him out.
“Are you..alright?” She asked, he smiled a bit and turned leaning against the railing, putting his head down. Ino felt a small bit dizzy and steadied herself on the wall behind her.
“I Will be, Being drunk makes me remember things.”
All at once she was sorry and hurt and angry at him. This was a party, he was bringing up Asuma. At her party, she didn’t want to be sad right now, How could he? The only sensible One, her teammate, her friend. He knew how hurt she was about it. But he was drunk, with a bad touch in his eyes and she couldn’t blame him.
She gulped and got over the lump in her throat enough to whisper,
“Shutup.”
His eyes flashed a little, but she continued,
“And put that out. Put it the hell OUT. Youre going to murder yourself. Do you want to be like Asuma? ”
All at once he was right there, holding her to the wall and his eyes were angry, and hungry somehow.
“Don’t tell me what to do. Asuma is dead, and you wont let me grieve for him?” his hands were tight on her wrists and her jaw tightened.
“Stop.” She was dizzy and her head felt light.
But he continued, “how will you grieve Ino? Will you cry? Will you run, so far your lungs scream? Or-“his eyes burned into hers.
“Will you remind yourself of him, and bury him and the memories yourself?” he flicked his cigarette, and she understood.
He softened his grip, and she opened her arms to him, as he slumped against her.
She didn’t know what to do but hold him, and she felt a wetness on her neck and she knew he was grieving. She felt small and insignificant, all she could do was hold him and stroke his hair, out of its ponytail.
He pulled back, his eyes red. Ino wanted desperately to fix it, to make him back to the sarcastic boy she remembered.
She kissed him, a soft, comforting kiss. But she forgot the hungry look, the bad touch and his lips were hard and bruising on her own. ‘
She let him, he was grieving and human. They were drunk, and her back was bruising.
He put his face back to her neck, and she barely heard him breathe,
“Thank you, Ino.”
As she looked up, she saw a small green plant and barely suppressed a chuckle.
That Naruto.
The mistletoe really was everywhere.

fanart cards

I would love to make you a christmas card with your OTP, or something of your choice on it :P just message me your address, or request my E-mail.
The cards will be ink, pencil, watercolor or a combination of these.
:D
k?

Oh, Dear,

Loving one,today has come.
it ended with skies bright and our hands holding tight.
Its 2 am, The funerals tomorrow, poor you.
I didnt cry when my mum died.
Youre perfumes starting to cloy.
I kept it in my head how you lied.
And at night, my head is tucked in your shoulder and neck.
I do not cry, my crystal ball denies.
You will leave tomorrow,
well Dear.
He spills beer on you, I Smell it on your clothes.
he eats up your time, Only stopping to Throw his fist to your face.
This is how it feels, I remind myself,
Day by day,
To be the other man.