goldilockbeanstalk

 Arianna dipped her pen into the inkpot, just as a knock came at her cabin door. She sighed through her nose and set the pen down carefully on some scrap paper in the groove at the top of her desk. It rocked gently with the motion of the ship, but did not roll away. “Enter,” she called, wiping her inky fingers on her handkerchief. There was a small scrambling noise as the door was pushed open by a clumsy hand. “Mistress Carter?” called a squeaky, pre-pubescent voice from her doorway. “Yes, Master Dooley?” she smiled, turning to face the cabin boy. He was nearly twelve, in her estimation, and scrawnie

I asked you to explain. You spat out words on a plate And told me I couldn’t have any dessert until I’d finished them, So I swallowed it.

Do you think I wanted this? The nights spent dreamless The days spent numb The hours with a pen Recycling other people’s words While the spring inside my head begins To Dry Up slowly. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I asked for it to be difficult? I knew it would be difficult But, As the saying goes, We must accept what we cannot change And The grass is greener on the other side And What does not kill us makes us stronger. Do you think I thought this far ahead? That I foresaw and somehow Forgot To dodge my silver bullet? Do you think I meant For hours To turn into Days To turn into Nothingness To turn into

Distress Characters: Amaryllis - A rather butch Queen Aloysius - A sissy prince Gordon - Aloysius’ cousin Amaryllis You don’t know me! You can’t judge me, you have no right to speak to me like that! Aloysius Oh please, I am a prince I can speak to anyone any way I want! Amaryllis Not to me you can’t! Aloysius What are you going to stop me? Amaryllis If you keep that up I just might- Gordon Now Amy, hold on- Amaryllis Oh shut up Gordon, I can handle myself! Aloysius Oh you just wish that were true, don’t you. You go around acting as if you know how to do everything, as if you just rule the world! Amary

You know you're not the only one who wonders what went wrong? When? You know you're not the only one who asks why couldn't I? Why me? You're not the only one who always feels tired and scared lower than the dust of the road duller than a butter knife. You know you're not the only one who hurts and screams and curses the world for what it does and wonders why things never You know you are not never will be alone. Knowing and feeling are not the same.

 Prologue "Can I touch it?" Kriona (https://www.deviantart.com/riona), aged about seven and a half, asked, wide-eyed. Her grandfather laughed. "Sure, just don't touch any of the buttons." Kriona (https://www.deviantart.com/riona) reached out, her small fingers curled. A single digit unfurled, within centimeters of the frosty glass. She could feel the ice within sucking heat from the air around it. She recoiled, burying her face in her grandfather's waist. "It's okay K@," He chuckled, "You can touch it." She inched her eyes back towards the bullet shaped cryochamber. "But..." she sought for excuses, "But what about the defish?" Her grandfather's gaze drifted upwards and his arm tightened ar

Prologue ! ! "How much?" ! "Two Fifty." ! "Two Fifty? She can't be more than six years old!" ! The slave trader shrugged. ! "That's what the slave mage said," he grimaced, his heavy brow furling. He didn't agree with the price either; they'd never sell the girl at such an outrageous amount. ! "I'd bet that's what you say about all of them," McCauley McAllister spat, "And I'd win." He narrowed his eyes and did his best to look imposing, which wasn't hard for a man who seemed to be carved out of pure gristle. The slave trader just shrugged again and grinned, showing a mouthful of blackened, stumpy teeth. ! "True," he admitted, "but this

I want a new Disney Princess. No more blithe buxom bleached-tooth beauties smiling and bodacious, Sugar sweet, curvaceous Pretty, petite and with as much dimension as a stick figure. I want an ugly Princess. And I don't mean "homely" like apple pies and gingham and you know I don't know what he sees in her but it must be  something wonderful Cause that's not ugly. And I don't mean "plain" like boring, beige and couldn't pick her out of a crowd to save the world but she sure has a  great personality. Cause that's not ugly. I mean ugly like Pimple faced pock marked snaggle toothed wire haired Shakespeare's most famous m

Skip struggled her way into the confining fabric of her floor length gown to the persistent drone of the Watching Eye in her head. "And I must say as a champion, you were spectacular. I mean, we did always expect you to win, but you put on a jolly good show!" Skip grunted. "You should be a wonderful Queen. I mean, not that you have any meaningful experience, but you always have me, and it does run in your blood and all-" "Something's bothering me," Skip cut in, disentangling her skirt from her petticoats. "Pardon?" The Watching Eye's voice echoed in her head. "I said something's bothering me," "What is it?" "Don't you

Crissa's Knot "It won't be so bad," Her mother's voice trembled as she twisted the long, winding braid into place. She lifted and pressed the hair into the nape of Crissa's neck and held it there, groping for a pin. Crissa said nothing, but bowed her head to allow her mother access to the soft hair at the nape of her neck. "It won't be so bad," Her mother repeated, "You'll see," Again Crissa did not respond. "You're lucky, you know," Her mother mused, twitching yet another strand of hair into place, "A lot of other families have their eyes on this land. We-," She stopped and worked a pin deep into the entanglement of hair, hoping it