Comments Posted By amandaxx

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“anything you say, boss,” he said cheerfully, winking. “ambassador. main man. father. right-hand–”

“for the love of god, louis, shut up.”

» Posted By amandaxx On 11.06.2018 @ 8:05 pm


her drink — an iced cappuccino — gives her a tooth-ache by the first sip, but she’s determined to finish it by the third. she tells herself it isn’t a method of distraction when it really is, at least according to the bubble of anxiety threatening to burst in her chest, and tells herself again to breathe — not that it’ll help. she flexes his fingers and wipes the perspiration off her cold cup and exhales and squeezes her eyes shut and–

she folds in half, involuntarily, and vomits onto the linoleum floors.

» Posted By amandaxx On 11.05.2018 @ 8:17 pm

“my ice cap isn’t done right,” he complains, his expression twisted in sour-faced disgust. “i said one pump of caramel drizzle, not — eugh — four!” he made a show of wiping his tongue with a tissue even after he’d swallowed a great gulp of his drink. “eugh. good god.”

she stirred her smoothie with the tail-end of her straw and surveyed his dramatics blankly. “but you always get four pumps of caramel,” she told him, voice dry and bleak and exhausted, using the tone of a mother speaking to her tantrum-prone child. too bad he’s her husband. “that’s, like, your thing. four pumps. everyone knows that.”

“well.” he sniffed. “there’s no reason why they–” he nodded his head toward one of the waiters “–should. those freaks have had their eyes on me since we arrived.”

» Posted By amandaxx On 11.04.2018 @ 8:49 pm


“My shoes got spikes on ’em, see? On the backside.”

Stanley, eyes still fixed on the child-sized tome resting on his lap, hums appreciatively. “Really?” He can’t help the dry, unamused tone he uses as he says this. “Looks great.”

“Looks? You aren’t even looking!” Michael exclaims. “I got these bad boys for two zeros and you aren’t going to give me a single–”

“For all that it matters,” Stanley interrupts calmly, “I’m sure my opinion on your ‘bad boys’ won’t make a difference.” He sighs and raises his head anyway, and isn’t surprised at his dissatisfaction at what he sees.

» Posted By amandaxx On 04.07.2018 @ 8:08 pm


He lifts his chin with ostentatious grace. “Step away,” he remonstrates.

She watches, her ego tinged green, as he jumps in the air and lands on the thin ice neatly. “As if anyone with two feet can’t do that,” she says, incensed.

“Really,” he sneers. “Go on, then.”

She squares her shoulders and straightens her posture before attempting his turn, but when she slips, she breathes a surprised chuckle into the cold air. When she looks up he’s standing before her, smirking.

» Posted By amandaxx On 06.20.2017 @ 4:00 pm


Louis watched as she deliberately popped a chip in her mouth, trying not to stare but failing terribly. She was proper fit, in a way that was subtle and casual and everything Louis was not. He felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over him and anxiety throb at his temples threateningly.

“So,” he started carefully, testing the waters. She didn’t seem to look phased, so he pressed on. “What’re you into?” Louis winced; he sounded like an idiot. He peered down at his own plate of chips.

Instead of gathering her bag and walking out, she grinned, as if she wasn’t waiting for a better question. She looked back at him sweetly. “Sing. Fancy you.”

» Posted By amandaxx On 08.20.2016 @ 8:31 pm


Louis camps out far from all the other boys because he simply doesn’t want to associate with anyone – that just might be him being stubborn, but at this point he doesn’t care. He sets up his tent and lays out his sleeping bag and decks out immediately, his headache banging throughout his skull.

A while later he’s being stared down by a boy with a mop of curly hair. Louis nearly jumps out of his skin once he opens his eyes and he scrambles into a sitting position. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Bugger off, will you?”

» Posted By amandaxx On 08.13.2016 @ 2:48 pm


he comes home from the bakery with flour trapped in the threads of his beanie and a loaf of bread tucked under his arms. his face hurts from smiling and his feet are aching from all the pacing he’s been doing at the shop, but he rather he’d be feeling this way than be in a foul mood like he was in the day before.

he toes off his shoes and kisses his mum on the cheek before heading to the kitchen to cook up a storm.

» Posted By amandaxx On 05.31.2016 @ 6:24 pm


her bones debilitate as her control swells, heavy and thick, bloating her concave heart

and her breath reeks of hunger while her pasty skin outshines a dull, toothy smile

calories clog her throat and her brain

yet she swears she’s not enough

» Posted By amandaxx On 01.17.2016 @ 9:11 pm


she couldn’t contain her disdain. she openly groaned.

“that’s a stupid idea,” she protested. “it won’t get us anywhere!” the group stared at her with annoyance, which led her to further her opinion.

“think of it my way or think of it yours. but which one is going to bring us from here,” she pointed at the floor, “to here?” she pointed a red nail at the ugly beige ceiling.


» Posted By amandaxx On 12.27.2015 @ 8:20 am


she clutches her books to her chest anxiously, waiting for him to open his mouth and let his molasses, smooth drawl wrap her like a blanket and take her deep down under until she can’t breathe anymore.

“we should talk sometime,” he says.

and that is all it takes for her heart to slam into her throat until she’s left with a stupid, raw ache. she shouldn’t like him this much.

» Posted By amandaxx On 11.08.2015 @ 6:49 pm


they don’t talk much anymore, and she’s definitely okay with that because it saves them the pressure and time of a painfully awkward conversation about the weather or something stupid of the sorts. but he still hangs around to watch her paint, sometimes going the long way to spend the last three bucks in his pocket to buy her a chocolate bar they can split. it’s better, and it feels like a load of weight lifting off her shoulders whenever she sees him from the corner of her eye, sipping a cup of tea.

they don’t talk, but it seems like they are when she’s interrupted by a sudden block of creativity and stands there, staring at her easel. but then he pats her shoulder and nods, chewing on his share of kit-kat, and it’s the closest thing to words because she’s interrupted again by the urge to say something. except it’s enough and she doesn’t need to ask for more.

» Posted By amandaxx On 09.12.2015 @ 8:23 pm


maybe, he thinks blearily, maybe she should be a statue.

and he’s not trying to be selfish, or maybe he is, but it’s true. for everyone’s pleasure, of course – to touch, to look at. she should be carved out of marble, from the curve of her lips to the dip of her waist and to the curl of her toes. maybe he should paint her, delicately and deliberately, with the deepest blues and the sharpest reds and the brightest yellows and hide her behind one of those big DO NOT TOUCH signs, for himself.

maybe he is quite selfish.

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.30.2015 @ 8:09 pm


central park never looked it’s best.

the lamppost’s yellow shine was blurred as if it was rubbed on with a dirty eraser and the trees disappeared into the night. the sky was black – watermelon seed black, eight ball black, coffee without milk black – and the stars looked like they were splashed on it at the last moment, like spilling salt over a dark surface. it makes you want to touch as much as you want to taste, to find out if it is as bitter as it looks.

it was mesmerizing, to say the least.

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.29.2015 @ 10:38 pm


“here you are!” she declares, planting the plate on her friend’s lap.

he frowned, deep creases forming between his eyebrows. “why are you giving me food?” he smelt the sandwich and flicked the tiny bits of crumbs at her face.

she stares at him. he isn’t very bright. “well,” she starts, pausing for dramatic affect. she waits a few beats before continuing. “i’m just a good friend,” she finishes, smiling coyly.

he so owes her.

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.10.2015 @ 4:54 pm


i took my time to study the expression written in lousy format on his face. his mouth was slack and his eyes looked bleak, and i wasn’t sure if he was pleading or just playing with me. i sighed.

“i’m sorry,” i began, wincing when i witnessed his face crumble. “i can’t.”

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.08.2015 @ 8:26 pm


maybe her heart’s just corrosive to contact. she gives it away reluctantly because she knows it’s going to tear in half like it’s a piece of loose leaf and thrown into the air as if it were a boomerang, only to get slapped back into place in her body behind her breastbone.

upon realization, it was like a blow to the chest, finally understanding the love she received was nothing but a blatant fabrication. she was walking around with a blindfold and her arms outstretched, trying to reach out and touch something real, only for it to bite her back.

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.08.2015 @ 12:19 pm


the reds were all at varying tones – yellowish-reds, deep oranges, dark pinks – but they seemed to bleed into each other so that they became one solid type. she liked it like this, so she added more paint on to the canvas. the red became more toned-out and prominent.

stepping back to admire her work, she tilted her head at different angles to see what this picture could become. she sighed. her brain was too worn out for this.

cleaning herself up, she went home.

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.06.2015 @ 9:44 pm


she’s never been able to decide on her own. when she’s put alone to her independence, her head fills with heavy, dizzying questions – should she go that way or the other? should she wear a hat or earrings? – and she just can’t. she can’t do it.

her mind’s a maze and her thoughts are the choice-makers; they can lead her to a dead end and then they can find her a way out. and sometimes they can direct her to the opening and take her home.

» Posted By amandaxx On 07.04.2015 @ 10:42 pm

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