#kly writes

"You're boring, Vin. Bland. You ever eat bran pellets? They taste like cardboard. My physician says I gotta eat them, for my fiber intake, y'know. When I eat them, I lose my will to live. I don't even wanna eat, I just wanna die. That's how you make me feel."

"I'm not the distraction—I'm the main attraction."

And showed up, unannounced, at my door. I should have sensed her, but at that moment I was preoccupied with digging around in my pocket for a chicken nugget I had saved from some time before. Infinity pockets are an incredible nuisance.

***

"Are you the Wild Witch of the Wood?" 

I turned to face her and squinted. "Who's calling me that?"

"Everyone in Abandale."

I relaxed and returned to my brew. I mean stew. "Impressive. Most people have long forgotten about me.” I pointed my wand at her and added, "I appreciate the honesty. Can’t say I’m fond of the epithet, but they’re not wrong." 

She stared at the claw-like end of my wand. "Is that a back scratcher?"

"It's multipurpose."

***

“Why don't you like being called that? Is it the… wild part? Or the witch part?” 

I sighed. “It's the wood part. My magic doesn't work on wood.” 

She tilted her head so barely that anyone else might've missed it. For, like, two seconds, I thought she was remembering me--I mean, who I was. “But… you live in the forest.”

note: Illarion and Alia can communicate telepathically

"What if we cover her eyes? Will that work?"

"No. Even if she's blindfolded, even if her eyes are closed, if the Fade spectres want her to see them, she'll see them."

We are close to the City of Shadows. Illarion's voice broke through to Alia's mind. It'll be better for everyone if she dies out here. We should have left her.

Thanks for tagging me @writer-on-time!

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This is from a WIP that used to be called the spectacular quiet (TSQ)

I brought in my brother’s old monitor so I could play games in here. Asher’s using it right now, playing Breath of the Wild. Since I don’t like people sitting on my bed, he’s on the floor next to it. He’s got his bottle of Soju, and propped up against his knee is a pack of cornick. I keep telling him he can’t eat with his hands if he’s gonna be touching my controller, so he just tilts the bag over his mouth.

Lydia’s on the floor reading a book by Reese Weston. I don’t know how she can focus when Asher’s swearing at the Bokoblins.

From the age of six I lived at an orphanage in Prosper with a dozen or so other little girls. We were all quite odd, as little girls are, brewing potions of mud and crushed leaves out in the yard. We'd fill an empty flower pot--Missus Gardner allowed us to have one--with our ingredients which included, as often as we could find them, dead insects. We made a rule by which no girl was allowed to kill anything on account of disrupting the way of things, though we all secretly knew Poppy was killing them, and we allowed her to get away with it for the sake of our brews. We'd throw everything into the pot and stir the concoction with what sticks we could find, which were often pathetic, for we were not permitted beyond the fence. The sticks usually wound up as part of the brew and us girls would pretend they were bones.

"Those are our parents' bones!" I remember one girl exclaiming. "They're dead because they didn't want us!"

as part of the abridged / digestibles collection (link TBA) which is basically easy reads ,, im currently working on the following two:

this is us colliding - boy meets boy and falls for him but wonders if there's a place in the universe for what they have... whatever it is. (it’s more on the soft and fluffy side with a good helping of cheese.)

discount wizardry - a group of wannabe dungeon crawlers responds to a Help Wanted ad. armed with amateur magic and potions from 7-Eleven, they set out to complete their quest in exchange for renown. (feral energy, idiots abound.)