Author's Note: Really relevant title for once, from the song by The Avalanches. Half-baked ideas were vomiting on each other inside my brain again. But alas, they're not meant to become anything. So they're lined up in order of rejection, nonsense and all. No seriously. Even though none of my crap ever really makes any sense, these rejects are just utter inanity.

Mostly gen shit, some femslash and slash. Some longer than others. Rating is for the usual. Drugs, pervy stuff, cursing and all that jazz. My OC and manga characters make appearances, and even though MCL changed Laeti's name, I still refer to her as Laeti.

1. Meow

Lysander crouched down on the floor of Castiel's garage and softly clicked his tongue. "Here, kitty. Here, kitty-kitty."

The stray remained hidden, either in a box or behind one, or crouched among odds and ends in the rafters. Castiel's garage was rather cluttered, more of a storage unit really, and that was probably why the feline had managed to successfully elude capture for so long. "Here kitty," Lysander tried again, to no avail.

"Maybe it'll come out if we call it by name." His eyes flitted to Castiel. "Does it have a name?"

"Nathaniel."

Lysander rose a brow. "You named it Nathaniel?"

"It's butt-ugly, it scratched me, and it's been a pain in my ass for days. So yeah, I thought 'Nathaniel' was pretty fitting."

2. Cosplay

Laeti rolled away from her computer screen and spun around in the chair, baby-blue orbs blinking in nonplus. "So that's what Armin was talking about."

"Yep." A soft grin of amusement touched Marcese's mouth.

"Well that's...Different. Kinda dorky, if you ask me."

"I don't know," Marcese tittered. She leaned down and gently cupped her friend's cheeks. "I think you'd look pretty cute in that maid costume."

"Really?" Laeti smiled bashfully. As confident as she was with boys, compliments like that were different when they came from Marcese. Boys were a known attraction, she had a long, long list of boyfriends and an even longer list of boys to shortly turn into her boyfriends. Laeti had experience with boys. It wasn't like that with Marcese. Marcese was unexplored territory.

"Really," the azure-haired teen concluded and chastely pecked Laeti on the lips. She let go of Laeti's face and pulled back before the gesture could be deepened.

They never went beyond friendly kisses, and even those were in infrequent supply. Marcese would remain unexplored territory.

3. Insulting

"Ey, Campy! Get over here and help me move these desks."

Alexy gave Castiel a level glare and folded his arms over his chest. "Not until you stop calling me that."

"I'll stop calling you 'Campy,' when you stop being campy."

"That's insulting and stereotypical!"

"Dude," he grunted. "Your clothes are as flashy as a fireworks display, you hug all the girls, and your underwear is pink."

"That's just me, that isn't because...Wait! How do you know what color my underwear is!?" Alexy gaped, feeling mortified and violated.

"You were bending down in the hallway to pick something up off the floor, and your ass is so girly I thought you were Lynn." Castiel snorted a laugh.

For a moment Alexy didn't do anything. Then he wheeled, skipped out of the room, slammed the door behind him and locked it with the key that was temporarily in his position. With a big, goblin like grin, he trotted off to find Lynn and tell her that Castiel was trying to look at panties.

4. Frustration

Nathaniel's nerves were frayed.

It was understandable, of course. He'd missed three days of school, so he was behind in his normal classwork along with what he had to do in the student council room. His hidden bruises had barely dulled in the course of that time, they still throbbed smartly and mocked him with every step, so much so that he had to fight limping, and even considered that he should've just given in and stayed home today too.

Anyone's nerves would have been straining in his position.

"Hey Nathaniel. Are you feeling better?" Melody smiled at him kindly, her cerulean pools gentle and fond.

Would he really be here if he wasn't? "I am, thank you." A pulse of malign pain between his shoulder blades asserted that why yes, he would be.

"That's great." Her smiled widened and her cheeks shaded softly as she twirled a lock of her wavy brown hair around her finger. "I was wondering. Well, if you wouldn't mind...Could you walk home with me today? There's this new man that moved in on my block, and he's a little creepy. Walking by his house alone makes me nervous."

Creepy neighbor his ass. This was just Melody being Melody again, being pushy and trying to get him to go out with her even though he'd made it abundantly clear that wasn't going to happen.

"Goddamn it, no! Can you not take a hint?!" Nathaniel raked a hand through his hair, glaring at her sharply in vexation. "I. Don't. Like. You. I didn't like you the first time you tried to sweet talk your way into a relationship, I didn't like you the second time you asked me to go with you to that school dance and I don't like you now! My house is a thirty minute walk from yours! Don't pull that crap on me, if you're so goddamn scared of your neighbor, have Iris walk with you! She lives ten minutes away!"

Melody stared at him for one long moment, a bright scarlet flush rising high in her cheeks. Her lower lip trembled and the first tears left her wavering eyes. "I'm sorry. Excuse me." She put a hand to her face and fled the room just like that.

She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and pushed the wrong button. Nathaniel supposed he was being too hard on her, but his home-inflicted injuries were silently screaming and he couldn't bring himself to care.

5. Hatred

"I despise you," Charlotte hissed coldly, her voice as lethal and dangerous as a monocle cobra's bite.

Her glower pierced Debrah like a sharpened dagger.

The singer felt a chill jolt up her spine and her breath caught in her throat as her heartbeat quickened.

"I know," she whispered.

And then she kissed her anyway.

6. Mary Jane

"I don't normally do this, you know," Kim told him matter-of-factly, passing the joint she held between two dark fingers.

"Neither do I," Castiel mumbled, mouth closing around the end Kim's lips had previously held. Heh. An indirect kiss. "Just on special occasions."

"And if you tell Violette about this, I'm gonna beat you so hard your bruises' bruises' bruises' will have bruises."

He inhaled deeply and then hazily passed it back to her. "Violette, who draws flying rainbow sheep and daydreams about sparkly purple clouds, would have a problem with pot?"

"Mhm. She can be a worrywart sometimes. She'd get mad at me for doing anything illegal." And with that, Kim took another hit.

"Maybe I should tell her then, for your sake. Angry sex is the best." He cracked a lopsided grin and didn't dodge fast enough to avoid the smack to the face Kim dealt him.

"You nasty perv," she rebuked.

Castiel laughed, broke off into a cough, and laid flat on the kitchen tile. Living without parents had benefit after benefit. Kim laid down beside him, their heads brushing and tresses of ebony swirling with scarlet to create an interesting pool between them. Gauzy clouds of smoke drifted around in thick tendrils, spreading the uncanny perfume of marijuana as they rose to the ceiling.

7. Snooze

Nina strolled through the aisles of clothes in Lysander's brother's shop, clutching her bunny purse tightly.

"Can I help you with anything?" Leigh himself poked his head around a rack of dresses and smiled politely at her.

"Oh no, that's alright." She smiled back at him. "By the way, you have really cool clothes here. Everything Victorian is custom, right?"

"Yes." Rose dusted across his cheeks. "Thank you, I'm glad my style suits your fancy."

"You're welcome," she chirped sweetly and meandered away. Though Nina meant what she said, she was also taking advantage of a moment to butter up her future brother-in-law.

A few trips around the store later, with her wallet still no lighter (she just couldn't decide what to buy. Her budget was limited but there were a number of affordable things to buy and choosing between them was difficult), Nina grew tired. She plopped down in one of the chairs that sat against the wall outside of the changing room, planning on only resting for a moment.

She hadn't planned on falling asleep. But she did.

Leigh passed her not too long after. He blinked in slight surprise and reached over to gently shake her awake, but paused. She just looked so peaceful. He couldn't wake her. He shrugged off his coat and delicately laid it over her before moving on.

8. Fifth Wall

"I don't really see how you and I are talking right now," Marcese said bluntly.

"I agree. I mean we're like the same people, right?" Lynn awkwardly held one arm, eyes darting about uncertainly.

"Well...We're two totally different people, but we fill the same exact role in the same exact place in two different continuities. I...I think that's how it works anyway." She scratched her head, her visage offering nothing but dubiousness.

"That sounds about right," Lynn murmured, not really having a better idea concerning the whole situation.

"Do you think us meeting means the fabric between our realities is ripping, or something like that?"

"I have no clue." Lynn giggled, a high-pitched jittery trill. "Do you wanna make out?"

"Hell yeah. I haven't gotten any lip action since episode nine." Marcese eagerly closed the gap between them and traced Lynn's lips with her tongue.

9. Kiss It Better

The blonde seven year old sniffled quietly and pushed himself up from the concrete. He braced himself on quivering elbows and rocked back onto his bottom. He'd fallen pretty hard from the looks of it and smacked the sidewalk face-first, so Castiel couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him. Even if the jerk deserved it.

Which he did. The reason Nathaniel fell in the first place was because he was chasing after his little sister and her new friend Li, terrorizing them with some dead lizard he found.

When Nathaniel didn't resume his pursuit, Castiel sighed and hopped down from the swing. He shuffled over with some sense of obligation and crouched down next to him.

"You okay?"

"I don't like you. Go away."

"I don't like you either, but your face is bleeding."

Nathaniel lifted a hand and gingerly swiped a sleeve across the cut on his forehead, blood smearing onto the fabric. He flinched and let out a soft hiss. Castiel tipped his head to the side in thought. His mom always kissed it better when he was scraped up. It seemed like an appropriate course of action to take now, so he did. The salty tang of blood coated his mouth and Nathaniel stared at him as he pulled back, totally dumbfounded. "What the heck was that?"

"Kissing it better."

"Thanks," he muttered. And then he threw the dead lizard in Castiel's face.

10. Veins

Kim held her breath as she was led down the hallway of the Mental Health Ward. It didn't matter that she'd been down the same hallway every day for two weeks following the incident, the place still creeped her out.

Although it was a neat hallway and dusted in sunlight that streamed in through the wire netting over the windows, she still couldn't shake off the images of wrought-iron insane asylums and chittering psychopaths in stained straightjackets. The staff member unlocked the door and Kim gave him a nod of acknowledgment as she brushed past and went inside. The occupant of the room didn't turn around, merely continued staring out of the window.

"Hey Violette."

"Kim!" Violette whirled around abruptly, brought out of her trance. Or concentration. Or escape. Whatever it was.

She leapt from the bed and threw her arms around the taller teen's waist, a wan smile brightening her pallid features. Her hair was brushed, but it wasn't braided as it usually was and the shine had been sucked out.

Kim hugged her back carefully, terrified that if she embraced Violette with her normal vigor she'd snap her right in half. They pulled apart and then sat on the bed together, talking about this and that and everything in between. Kim told Violette everything she'd been missing in school. Violette told Kim about everything she saw out of the window.

Against her will, Kim's eyes kept drifting to the tight, white bandages around Violette's wrists. She finally cracked and asked, just like she knew she would. It was a selfish thing to ask, but for the life of her she couldn't understand it all, so she just had to inquire. "Why'd you do it, Vi? Why'd you do it?"

The fragile smile dropped of her face like a lemming over a cliff, tears springing to her ash gaze. "I can't tell you," she said in a broken whisper. "I just can't tell you." And then she clung onto Kim and sobbed into her shoulder, and Kim held her because there was nothing else to do.

11. Sandcastles

Alexy gathered up the sand in the bucket, the wet sand right by the shoreline. It was the best sand for packing. Everybody knew that.

He filled it to the brim, patted it down with his hands to make a little more room for an extra handful, and then swaggered back to where Peggy and Dake sat, stretched out on towels with colorful patterns.

"Okay~ Who's going to dig the moat?"

Peggy lifted her head and slid her eyes to him from under the shade of her sunhat. "We said we weren't going to make a sandcastle," she stated flatly. "It's too juvenile. I stopped making sandcastles when I was in fourth grade."

He pouted, lower lip puffed out and puppy eyes blinking. "But it'll be fun. Please."

Crap. That look of his made it nearly impossible to refuse. "No," she said quickly. Before her mouth could form 'yes.'

"Dake?" He turned to the tanned teen next, still wearing that irritatingly endearing pleading expression.

The surfer glanced out to the ocean through his orange-tinted sunglasses. Not a single good wave in sight. "Why not?" He shrugged and stood on his knees, scuttling over to the blue-haired teen. "Hand me that shovel. I'm going to dig the moat."

"Great," Alexy grinned and passed him a plastic purpled shovel. "C'mon Peggy. You're missing out."

She watched them both for a moment and then tossed up her hands in defeat. "Alright. I'm in. I'll go get some sand for the drawbridge."

By the end of the day, their castle was quite the remarkable royal fortress. It stood over a meter tall, dotted with shiny seashells and seagull feathers and dappled stones. Peggy snapped a photo for each of them to take home with her outdated brown camera.

12. Why

Nathaniel sighed and made his best effort to keep his eyes on the eyes of the girl in front of him, instead of her ginormous tits that were all too visible through her heart-splashed cream parka.

Though honestly, she probably wouldn't object to him ogling her breasts at all. She was giggly and flashing him a seductive smile, patting his arm and not-so-coincidentally brushing her hand over his as she thanked him for helping with the homework.

"No problem," he told her, but his voice was clipped because it actually was a problem if all she was going to do was swoon and forget everything he's using his valuable time to teach her.

Melody never stopped mooning over him and followed him at every possible occasion. This new transfer student, Laeti, wouldn't stop batting her eyelashes and breathed phony excuses just to hang around him. Hang around him like a noose.

And then Lynn...Well Lynn was...What the hell was her deal? One minute Nathaniel was sure she liked him back, and then the next he was sure he was reading her wrong.

Why was it the girls he didn't like tortured him like fruit flies on a rotten banana, but the ones he did like sent him mixed signals?

13. My Precious Liar

"Are you alright?" Jade glanced uncertainly to his boyfriend, noticing how he was carrying himself so stiffly and seemed to be favoring his weight on the right side.

"Fine," Dajan told him with all the charm a smile can bear. "Maybe a little sore from practice."

"Okay," Jade murmured without any real reassurance, because by now he knew Dajan and he could see the little flicker of pain trying to hide in his golden depths.

"Really, I'm fine." He patted Jade on the head and affectionately pressed his lips to his temple.

"Just don't strain yourself," he pleaded softly.

"I won't. I promise."

And then two days later he collapsed right before halftime, ball bouncing away as he lost his footing and crashed down to the gymnasium floor. Jade's heart froze in mid-beat. He didn't pay any mind to the fact that his rushing out of the stands and scrambling across the court was unappreciated.

One trip to the emergency room later revealed a torn ACL serious enough to need surgery and boot Dajan out of the rest of the season. Jade could've said 'I told you so,' didn't, and instead just held his hand and stroked his hair. Said hair went down to Dajan's shoulders when it was let out its ponytail holder and it was very nice like that, classy looking.

Jade skirted around the elephant in the room and told him so. Dajan broke into a heartbroken smile and buried his face into his neck.

14. Drag

Shopping bag after shopping bag lined Amber's arms. She'd made a spree of it today, hitting sale after sale and stocking up on all things fashionable. But now the weight was dragging her down and she could barely walk straight. It was only a matter of time before she stumbled. Being a frequent shopper and accustomed to the struggles that came with overloading, Amber was actually well-rounded in her stamina and often caught herself. But this time she let the cute azure-haired boy she noticed out of the corner of her eye do it for her.

He darted in just like a gallant prince and caught her around the waist. She got a grip on his shoulders and lifted her head, smiling brightly. "Oh, thank you."

"No problem."

Huh? That voice was familiar. Amber blinked and tilted her head, her brow crinkling in thought. Did she know him? She stepped back and studied his face. Peered searchingly into his dandelion eyes. She did know him after all, that was- "OHMIGAWD! MARCESE!?"

"Usually it's 'Marcellus' when I'm in drag but yeah, that's me." The cute boy who wasn't a cute boy grinned at Amber gleefully.

"Why are you cross-dressing!?" The blonde recoiled in horror, revolted that she'd nearly found this train wreak of a person to be attractive.

"Why not?" Marcese shrugged.

"That's so weird! You're...You're even weirder than I gave you credit for! Hold on." She pawed through her purse and pulled out her phone. "I have to get a picture of this. Everyone's gotta see this."

"It's weird? Huh. I thought it made sense. I mean, I'm so flat it's almost easy to pass as a guy. And these clothes are pretty comfortable." Much to Amber's chagrin, the azure-haired teen posed for the picture. Honestly. To be shameless of such a bizarre habit.

"Do you want another picture?"

"No. Two pictures of your hideous face would probably break my screen." She turned and began walking away.

"If I'm so hideous, why were you checking me out?" Marcese snickered behind her. Amber's cheeks ignited with embarrassment but she didn't dignify that with a comment. She just flipped Marcese off over her shoulder, the perfectly manicured aqua nail on her middle finger held high in the air.

15. Acceptance

They sat together on the roof of the school, not speaking for the longest time.

But Castiel was the first to break the silence. "Why do you put up with that shit?" Twin charcoal pools scrutinized the pattern of faded eggplant and fallow bruises that danced along Nathaniel's collarbone.

"Acceptance is a lot like that cigarette you're smoking. It tastes acrid and thick on your tongue, and every other breath it makes you cough, but it's satiating. So you don't stop smoking it. When it's finished, you just buy another pack."

"You don't smoke." He flicked some ash over the edge of the building. "How do you know what it tastes like?"

"I've kissed you."

"Fair enough." Castiel turned and tentatively reached out, fingertips tenderly brushing over the discolorations in Nathaniel's skin. "I'll quit if you do."

The blonde let out a short, bitter laugh of ill humor. "No you won't."

A pause. Castiel pulled the cigarette back to his mouth and took a long drag. He exhaled the smoke in Nathaniel's face, a virulent grin lifting the corners of his mouth. "I guess you're right."

16. Cocaine

Coke was the rich man's drug.

Viktor was indeed a rich man. At the young age of twenty-three he was fresh out of collage and at the head of his father's company. He had a beautiful wife by the name of Marcese, he had Lynn, his childhood friend who'd grown to be his knock-out girlfriend on the side, and was steadily monopolizing the industry by driving competitors into the dirt.

Viktor had everything and he was a rich man.

And like other rich men, he fell victim to the rich man's drug.

He opened the refrigerator and reached for the addictive can of cola, a scowl of resignation twisting his mouth.

"Damn you to hell," he growled and popped open the top.

17. Undies

"Are you going to try on that lingerie I bought you?" Marcese gave Rosalya a mischievous grin.

"Right here, in the middle of the classroom?" The snow-haired beauty rose a brow.

"Please? I want to make sure they fit. And if they don't, I'll take them back."

"Alright." Rosalya shrugged and stripped down to nothing, Marcese leering like the voyeur she was.

She took the velvety, burgundy set out of the bag and spread them out over the desk, nodding in approval. "You really did do good. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." Marcese sauntered over and picked up the bra. "Would you like help putting it on?"

"Oh, would you?" Rosalya's amber pools flitted to her, half-lidded as she brushed her hair over her shoulder.

"Mmm." Marcese strapped the bra with an airy touch and then craned her neck over Rosalya's shoulder to see how well it fit. "Hey, that's perfect!"

"It is," she purred. And then she stepped into the underpants and pulled them on with some unnecessary (but nonetheless invited) assistance from Marcese. She put on her dress as well and was just tucking her tie back into place as Kentin opened the door and stepped inside.

"Oh, hi...What are you two doing?" He tilted his head, clearly confused as to why the duo were in such, err, close proximity.

"Nothing," Marcese chirped. And it was true.

18. Alice

Blinking at the albino rabbit-eared boy who looked to be near her age, Nina supposed she was a little like Alice in Wonderland. But of course, she wasn't, because Alice had fallen into a rabbit hole chasing after a rabbit who was late.

Nina didn't remember falling into any hole, but the boy standing before her wasn't so much a rabbit as he was a boy with rabbit features, and he wasn't in a hurry. He blinked at her with nominal interest and looked as though he had all the time in the world. "You outsiders are always so strange looking," he commented tartly. "But you're a little cuter than most."

"Err, thanks?" Nina glanced around her unfamiliar surroundings. "Am I in Wonderland?" She didn't think she was, this place didn't look quite surreal enough to be Wonderland, but it was worth asking. One never knew for sure.

"No," he snickered. "You're not very bright. Do you need a hand?"

"Don't be mean," she scolded and stood up by herself, brushing off her long skirt.

"I wasn't. I was just making an observation." He rolled his eyes. "But hey, do you want to help me feed my brother's chickens?"

She should have said no. She was in a strange land with a strange boy who had strange ears and didn't know how she'd gotten here in the first place. But for some reason she could not explain, she felt compelled to say yes. So she did.

"Great!" And then he took her hand and dragged her away to go feed grain to chickens who ate only chocolate, and he didn't know her name was Nina and she didn't know his name was Wenka, and it didn't matter one little bit.

19. Something Like Denial

Lysander's heart resumed beating. His throat was still drier than a desert and his insides were still number than the arctic, but his heart resumed beating.

"I'm sorry. I'm really so sorry." It took Lysander a second to process that the voice was from the blurred figure in front of him, and that the figure was his brother and the reason he was blurred was because he had tears in his eyes.

He rapidly blinked the tears away and swallowed. "I...I have to go. Someone has to feed Demon." He wheeled and left just like, waving a hand in a dismissive gesture as Leigh called him back. "No, no. It's fine. I know where the spare key is."

A part of him knew he was emotionally blunting, distancing. That he was doing the opposite of being lachrymose because he couldn't handle being so, but couldn't handle putting reality on hold either. The opposite of emotion was logic, so he was being logical. Feeding Demon was logical, because Castiel fed Demon, so no Castiel meant no food for Demon unless someone else took over.

It took somewhere between a few milliseconds and a few centuries to reach Castiel's house and trudge up the porch steps and dig the key out of that box. Lysander briskly stepped inside without consciously registering what he was doing. He quietly shut the door behind him and glanced around. Cluttered. Messy. Just like Castiel left it. Nothing there to indicate any change had taken place, though one had.

Demon was on the couch. He was unusually despondent, with dulled eyes and a lowered tail and ears that didn't perk like usual. It was like he knew something was wrong and later Lysander would suppose he did. Animals had a way of sensing things.

Visibly melancholic though he was, the shepherd still plodded after Lysander to the kitchen. He nosed his bowl after Lysander filled it and munched over a few bites, but wandered away without finishing and flopped down onto a pile of his owner's forgotten laundry.

That's when it finally sank in that his best friend was dead. Lysander jolted and stumbled back until he bumped the wall. He slid down it and to the floor, curling in on himself and burying his face in his knees as sobs shook his spine.

20. Curiosity

Alexy liked boys, plain and simple. He liked them exclusively and the female body didn't appeal to him in any way.

Or so he thought. There was something about Kim that caught his attention. Something about Kim that caught his attention in a way that only boys had managed to do before. When her eyes met his, he felt a thrill of something unknowable, a pleasant nameless thing that had his flesh tingling.

When she thumped him on the back or grinned at him, his heart skipped and went hammering. He always grinned back, even as red flared in his cheeks. He often thought of stroking her smooth brown skin or trailing kisses down her neck.

But that wasn't right, it couldn't be right. Because Kim was a girl. She had breasts and all the rest, and though she didn't really lack the muscular abdomen he found so appealing in males, she did lack that thing in the pants he adored so much. She had him awed, and she had him confused, head turned around and logical line of thinking tossed right out the window.

"Bro," she said one day and gently pushed his shoulder. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Hehe." He shyly rubbed the back of his neck. "I really wish I knew," he admitted lamely.

She blinked at him, brow arched. "Spacing out much, Alex?"

"I guess I am." He breathed a laugh and cast his gaze up to the basketball net. "Maybe I need my head examined."

"You're confusing yourself with Lysander," she joked and playfully shoved him.

"I heard that," Lysander muttered, lowering his notebook to offer a mild glower.

"She's sorry," Alexy chirped before Kim could apologize for herself, dropping the subject of his peculiar predicament before it could come up.

21. Elegant Tragedy

Some people were naturally solitary. Being alone was something that simply came to them and they enjoyed their own company. It didn't mean they couldn't become lonely, but it did mean that they were less likely to become lonely.

Capucine was not a solitary person to begin with. She naturally sought out company and she disliked being left alone with only herself and her thoughts. She strove not only for attention, but for acceptance and for friends. Oh, she wanted friends. People who cared, people who would let her care, people she could make memories with and swap secrets with.

She was a terribly lonely person. And being lonely, that was a dreadful thing. To not know where to turn when you wanted someone to talk to, to feel as through you didn't matter, to watch shadows lengthen in the corners and not be sure whether they were reaching for you or you were becoming one. Loneliness frightened you and made you skittish, even if you tried to put on a confident front and act like you weren't.

Loneliness crippled you and left you feeling like a vacancy, a place in the doorway between two rooms that people walked through all the time but paid no mind to. One only had so much capacity for loneliness and Capucine's was used up.

So she decided to make it stop, as desperately lonely people often do. There were an infinite number of ways to do such a thing, but Capucine went with a method classic and clean. Classic because of all the things she was, creative was not one of them, and clean because unlike creativity, elegance was a trait in Capucine's possession. She was neat and poised and she dressed chicly and carried herself with the grace of the ballerinas she'd always been awed by.

Capucine lived in finesse and she would die with finesse.

She took a long shower and blow-dried her hair, combing every pink-accented honey lock into place. She splashed herself with Lily of the Valley perfume and put on her best salmon dress with the stylish lace trim. She wore shiny pearl bracelets to match her shiny pearl necklace and tugged on shimmery translucent tights. She did the mascara and peach shadow around her apple-green eyes with delicate precision and dusted her cheeks with pinkish blush. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a very long time before she deemed her appearance acceptable and then opened it with careful fingers.

She took the bottle of sleeping pills her insomniac mother had been prescribed with and popped in all that were left. Which she guessed to be about fifteen or sixteen pills. Plenty. She swallowed them down with a glass of champagne she'd found in the cabinet and then applied lipstick that matched her dress.

She meandered to her bedroom and laid down on her back on the satin spread, staring up at her ceiling as fatigue swelled within her and pulled her into blackness. Her suicide was silent and painless, and she'd never looked better.

22. Unsavory

Drinking was not something Kentin normally did. He was underage of course, and then there was the unpleasant memory of his father introducing him to a shot of liquor at age fourteen that was way, way, way too strong for him to handle; in an effort to toughen him up.

But he was at a party. Laeti's party which he only went to so he could impress any girls who attended and prove that he wasn't the 'KennyKins' she still thought he was. And at Laeti's party, there was booze. So he indulged. He drank out of the bottle and drank out of the bong, and drank out of the shots lined up on the kitchen counter. He drank until he couldn't see straight anymore and his words were slurring over one another when they dropped from his mouth.

He left the party. Things were dwindling down and he impressed all the girls who was going to impress and showed off his new body to his old classmates quite proudly. That was all he'd wanted to do, so there was no more reason to stay.

He swaggered out the front door and down the block and somehow he ended up at Food Land, the grocery store. The bakery section called to him and he stumbled over there, glassy emerald eyes widening as they surveyed the shelves of bread and pastries. All of it looked delicious, but what really looked scrumptious were the rows of frosted cakes.

"Ohh man," he breathed to no one, looking them over and hoping he wasn't drooling. The cakes looked amazing. Bright eye-popping colors. Cutesy wax candles. Squiggly frosted designs. They beckoned to him. "I want cake," he drawled, touching the plastic container of a tall, Valentine's Day Cake that was dotted with chocolate hearts wrapped in red foil.

"Kentin? Hey, Kentin!"

He lopsidedly inclined his head toward the voice that called his name and saw Iris with a grocery basket over her arm, grinning happily.

"Oh, heeeeey Iris! Come 'ere, look at these cakes! They're beautiful."

"Um?" She looked a little confused, but stepped over and looked at the cakes with him even so. She was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, asked if he was drunk, and he happily answered that he was. And then she laughed, told him that was alright and bought him the Valentine's Day Cake because he seemed to want it so much. They walked back to her house and he helped her unload the other few groceries, clumsy though he was, and then they sat on the porch and uncapped the cake.

Kentin dug in with his fingers instead of with the fork, because he was just too eager and he couldn't hold the fork still anyway. Iris giggled at him like she found it endearing and delicately cut her mouthful with a fork.

"Mmmm," Kentin swallowed the fluffy chunk of dessert and licked in the frosting caked around his lips. It tasted like pure Heaven, a kiss from an angel or something otherwise as sweet. "This is the best cake ever."

Iris made a face as she chewed over her portion. "I'm not so sure about that..." To her (and likely to anyone sober, for it had been on display for over a month) it was stale, practically tasteless. As if someone dumped powdered sugar over a piece of cardboard. He laughed and slurred that it meant more for him, and she laughed a little herself and passed him the box.

23. Parasite

"What are you reading?" Debrah peeked over Marcese's shoulder curiously.

"Dreamcatcher. It's funny you'd ask, it actually reminds me of you."

"Oh?" Debrah simpered and lightly rested her chin on Marcese's shoulder. "How so?"

"It's about alien worms that devour the insides of their human hosts and then burst out of their assholes."

24. Savory

"What does blood taste like?" Charli stared at Dimitry incredulously. He wasn't even sure why he'd want to know such a morbid thing, but on the other hand, it seemed like a natural question one would voice in the presence of a nightwalker.

"Different types of blood have different tangs and undercurrents of flavor, but the main flavor is always salt. What does chocolate taste like? I had it as a human, but it's been so long that I don't actually remember." Dimitry smiled with a daft wistfulness and Charli felt a pang of sympathy.

"It tastes good whenever it's made right. Mostly always sweet. But the chocolate I make is the best. It's rich and smooth without being overpowering in the sweetness department and I always use real cocoa bean."

"That sounds marvelous. I wish I could eat some."

"I do too. But since you can't, I'll give you a little taste." Charli bit the chocolate egg he had in his apron pocket and then brushed his lips over Dimitry's.

25. Congestion

Castiel sneezed for what must have been the millionth time that day and spat a plugged curse.

"Here," Lysander murmured, passing him another tissue.

The redhead wiped away his dripping snot and sullenly pushed his face into Lysander's shoulder. "I'b dyig."

"No you're not, it's just a cold. But I insist you go home. I'm nearly out of kleenex and some rest would do you good."

"No."

"Because you'd have to get the pass from Nathaniel?"

He nodded and pulled his face away, burying another loud sneeze in the crook of his elbow.

"That's ridiculous. You'd have to talk to him for a minute tops. You two are so childish sometimes."

"T'ssue?" Castiel held his hand out expectantly.

"Last one," Lysander warned and passed it over.

"Fugging hell." He blew his nose into the offered tissue in a vain attempt to clear his clogged sinuses and then tossed it in the trashcan next to the lockers.

"I'll go with you to talk to Nathaniel, if you'll just go home. You're so miserable it's painful to watch."

"N-" Sneeze. "No."

"Castiel, I rarely ever press you on things. Please go home."

Another sneeze. Lysander took that as an answer and led Castiel off to the student council room with little resistance. Nathaniel glanced up from the form he was filling out and gave a questioning look.

"I'b sig. Gimme a homb pass n' sibe me out."

Nathaniel busted out laughing and didn't even attempt to contain it. He doubled over so abruptly he nearly dropped his clipboard.

"Shub up, abbhole! Dis isn'b funny! I'b fugging dyig!"

"Did you just call me an apple?" Nathaniel broke off for a moment and wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. "I just can't take you seriously when you sound like that!" His laughter resumed and another sneezing fit from Castiel joined the orchestra.

"Lysanber, mag hib stob befoe I kill hib!"

Lysander sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nathaniel, please control yourself. At least give him what he needs before carrying on as you are..."

"Right, right. Sorry...Oh hell, no I'm not." Still chuckling under his breath, the blonde stamped an excuse down on a post-it note and passed it off to Castiel, bearing his teeth in a spotless grin of glee.

"Wibe off dat smirg or I'll sneezb on you."

26. Swimming

Violette had her hands on her knees and her head tilted back just so, her eyes on the inky expanse of sky flecked by silver stars. "I'd like to swim in the sky."

Viktor gave her a curious look. "Swim in the sky? What do you mean by that?"

"Think of everything up there as being water. Its surface is still, but it runs deep. I'd like to dip into it and backstroke through the constellations." Her smile glittered silver under the moonlight and there was something in that smile. Something like a secret, but not quite. Like maybe she was telling him something she couldn't quite explain, or maybe he just couldn't understand it.

"You think you'd like that, hm?" He indulged her with fondness.

"I think I'd love it."

Though most of the property Viktor's family owned was urban, there was a stretch of country land out on the estate. He took her there the very next night, out back to the river when the midnight moon was high in the sky and the stars shimmered brilliantly in the expanse of endless darkness. The river reflected all of it, its still surface sparkling so precisely with all of what was above that it was hard to tell where the sky ended and the water began.

Violette gasped, her small, fair hands going to her mouth. "Oh my gosh! It's beautiful!"

"Do you still want to swim in the sky?"

"Yes," she breathed. And then she waded into the starry water, clothing and all.

27. Infantile

"I'm pregnant," Amber blurted out, tears in every trembling syllable.

Castiel stared at her for one very long moment. His eyes widened and then didn't, and his face grew incomprehensible. "It's...mine?"

"No," she snapped sarcastically. "It's fucking Alexy's!"

He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. "Fuck...Fuck! Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure! I wouldn't tell you this if I wasn't sure!"

"Fuck...Oh, fuck me!" He spun and smashed his fist into the brick, the loud smack of the blow startling Amber. She leapt back a step as he whirled back around, droplets of blood flying from his split knuckles.

"That isn't going to help anything," she spluttered.

"Well, what do you want to do about this anyway!? You don't want to keep it, do you?"

"No! Of course not!" Her hands curled around her stomach. "I don't want it at all! But, then again..." Amber trailed off. She didn't want it. But it was kind of a living thing, wasn't it? And she was kind of its mother, wasn't she? She didn't want it, no...But maybe she should think on it a bit more, just for the sake of the consideration. She'd still likely reach the same conclusion, but it was a decision worth paying thought to.

"Well if you are keeping it, first thing's first. I am not going to marry you. I am not going to be that prick's brother-in-law. I'm not going to be your boyfriend, either. I take it only on weekends, and we are not naming it anything stupid."

28. Lines

Lynn broke her kiss with Marcese, tipping her head back and sucking in a long breath of oxygen.

The azure-haired teen panted in between her own breaths, her air supply equally as deprived from their long tango of tongues.

"You know...All things considered, shouldn't we be straight?" Lynn briefly glanced to the dented fourth wall before looking back to Marcese.

"Probably. But does it really matter?"

"No, I guess not." She shrugged and leaned in to nibble a sensitive spot on Marcese's neck.

29. Ending

"I don't mind that it's for ten year olds, I really like this movie." Alexy curled up against Violette on the couch, resting his head on her shoulder. The movie in question was The Little Mermaid, the famous Disney adaption with Ariel and Flounder and the handsome Prince Eric.

"I like it to," she murmured, slightly uncomfortable with how affectionate he was being. Even though she accepted his preferences for what they were, she didn't like being this cuddly and knowing that on his end, it was all platonic.

"They made us read the original in middle school." Alexy scrunched his nose up in dislike. "It made me pretty sad. The ending was just terrible! I hate depressing endings like that."

"I think the original was really meaningful, but I still prefer this version. I don't like sad endings either." She relaxed as much as she was going to be able to and chewed her lip as the previews ended.

30. No Key

"We're locked in," Rosalya stated flatly, winding her way back down the basement steps and plopping down against the wall.

"I'm sure someone will find us soon," Lysander said wearily.

"You look like shit." Castiel sauntered over and peered closely at the silver-haired male. "You pull another all-nighter?"

"After practice, inspiration struck and I couldn't go to sleep. If you don't start writing when inspiration strikes, you lose it. I couldn't let that happen, now could I?" He smiled softly and stifled a yawn as he leaned back against the wall.

"Come here," Rosalya told him, beckoning with one hand and patting her knees with the other.

"Oh no, that's alright. But thank you."

"You're exhausted." She frowned and gave him a stern look. "Come here."

"We'll wake you up when someone lets us out." Castiel shrugged his jacket off and wandered over to sit down next to Rosalya.

"If you insist," Lysander plodded over and laid on his side, using Rosalya's lap as a pillow.

"Now isn't that comfortable?" She smiled down to him gently and stroked back the longer side of his bangs.

"Quite." Then he closed his eyes and Castiel draped his jacket over him like a blanket and sleep welcomed him into its depths.

31. Sport

"Surfing is not a real spot," Dajan scoffed.

"Oh, and basketball is?" Dake snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes. And it's important, people actually watch basketball. There are entire cable networks dedicated to basketball."

"You run around a gym and throw a ball through a net. Anyone can do that. I'd like to see you try riding a wave."

"Take me then. The next time you go surfing, take me with you and I'll try it." Dajan grinned cheekily. "I bet I'll have it down in three seconds flat."

"Alright then. I'll meet you here, tomorrow at noon?"

"Sounds good."

They did meet and they did go surfing, but Dajan did not have the technique down in three seconds flat, nor in three minutes flat, and it wasn't until the time three hours rolled around that he even managed to stay standing on the board. And even then, he only stood when the waters were still and one small wave was all it took to send him tipping off again.

But at the end of the day, they were both soaked in saltwater and grinning. Dajan took back what he said about surfing not being a real sport, and Dake seemed to forgive him. Even though he didn't verbally say so, he shared his towel and that was as much of an indication as any.

32. Violence

"I feel like smashing your stupid face into the wall."

"And I feel like setting you on fire and watching you blaze until you're reduced to a pile of smoking ashes." Every word said with a joyous smile.

"Now that's crazy," Castiel grunted. "You're crazy, Nat. I might just have to kill you to keep you from doing something that psycho."

"You might," Nathaniel agreed for once, his beaming smile never falling. "You just might..."

33. Accident

Peggy milled about the flea market, royal blue orbs bright and buoyant as they flitted from stand to stand and surveyed the interesting knicks and knacks people had for sale.

She ended up buying an antique snow globe with a lovely little village inside. It played a tinkling little song when you twisted the crank on the bottom and she thought that ten dollars had actually been a pretty darn good deal. Nothing else really caught her attention, so she left, ten dollars shorter but feeling a little bit richer.

It was drizzling outside. Not heavy rain, but a light, pleasant mist. Walking down the street, she was shoved by a bustling person in a hurry to something or another. She staggered off to the side and slipped on the rain-slick pavement, crashing on her knees in the middle of a puddle. Her hands flew upward, still tightly gripping the bag, and so thankfully the snow globe survived the fall. She shouted an insult after the person who'd pushed her, only she hadn't really seen them and they were long gone by now.

She gingerly stood, wiping the blood from her scraped knees with her free hand and scowling at her sodden skirt. Peggy did not normally wear heels but today she had, a pair of simple black sandals that added an extra two inches to her height, and the left of the two had broken when she slipped. She sighed and slipped both of them off, as continuing on barefoot would just be easier.

She walked on to the next block and waited for the crosswalk to signal 'go' before continuing along. But as as luck would have it, one car failed to heed the flashing signal and came speeding down the street anyway. Peggy gasped sharply and raced out of the way at full speed, stumbling as her feet clambered over the curb and onto the other side of the street. She heaved breathlessly and hugged herself for a moment, the bag and shoes still firmly in her grip.

"Why the hell can't people watch where they're going?" She grumbled to herself and let her arms drop to her sides again. She walked into the corner store, intent on buying a pack of gum. She disregarded the 'No shoes, No service' sign and treaded on a frayed wire that ran across the floor and plugged into the freezer. The electricity traveled from the pads of her rain soaked bare feet to the very ends of her dampened hair. A stark cry escaped her lips as the white hot flash rippled through every limb and fried her on the inside.

The bag and shoes slid from her grasp and fell to the floor. The snow globe shattered and the heads of the miniature villagers living in the teeny, snowy village rolled across the dirty linoleum as glass went scattering all about. Peggy crumpled after it, falling heavily onto her side. The little, honed shards of glass and broken ceramic people and houses pushed into her skin and cut her as keenly as any knife.

Her blood streamed down in small rivers, pooling into the water and glittery flakes of false snow.

34. Fear

Marcese lay with her bare back to Debrah. The equally naked young woman traced little patterns between Marcese's shoulder blades and delicately brushed her fingers through short azure locks.

"I'm afraid of everyone," she admitted suddenly, in a low, distant murmur that made Debrah pause.

A single chestnut brow arched. "Oh. Even me?"

Marcese rolled over and faced her somberly. "Especially you."

35. Quiet Ones

"You're not a big talker, are you?" Charlotte's caramel pools flitted to Lysander with a glint that somewhat resembled interest.

"I suppose I'm not. I don't see the point in blathering on about nothing, so I only talk when there is something to say. But you're not all that talkative yourself, are you?"

"It depends on who I'm with," she deadpanned as she fixed her ponytail.

"On the surface you don't really seem like you'd be compatible with Amber."

"You don't seem like you'd be compatible with Castiel."

A subtle smile tweaked his lips. "One can't really judge friendship at face value."

Charlotte gave a slight bob of the head to assess that her hair was like she wanted it and then faced Lysander unblinkingly. "..."

"..."

"I like taking care of Amber. Li too."

"They must appreciate that."

"I'm not sure they notice. It doesn't particularly matter to me one way or the other."

He gave her a slightly curious look, appeared as if about to about to speak, and then didn't.

"You have a nice voice. I'd like to see you sing again." Her words were nearly cryptic and abundantly dispassionate, but the slightest of smiles lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Then the next time I'm singing publicly, I'll take you with me."

"Or you could just give me the address."

36. Thread

Violette tugged Kim's hat down over the top of her head and wrapped Kim's scarf around her neck. She rather liked that the hat was too big for her and obscured her vision. It offered a new perspective on the world and a new perspective was just what Violette needed. She fashioned the scarf so that it wrapped around the lower part of her face as well as her neck, covering her mouth and touching the bottom of her nose.

She inhaled Kim's scent deeply and closed her eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kim asked, unbothered by being hatless and scarfless.

"No. Not yet."

"Alright."

Violette didn't reply, but she took Kim's hand and held it tightly as she walked out of the door and gently kicked it shut behind her. She walked to her destination with Kim in tow. It was a peaceful place, a secluded cemetery with wrought iron gates and fresh-mowed grass.

She stopped in front of Kim's headstone, a beautifully crafted shape of granite with two fresh bouquets on either side. One bouquet of violets Kim's parents had brought (Kim didn't like girly things like flowers, but if pressed she would have admitted that violets were her favorite), and one bouquet of various wildflowers that Violette had picked herself and tied together with a satin ribbon.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" Kim asked, but of course she didn't really ask because she was six or seven feet under and Violette would never, ever get to talk to her again.

"No," she choked out to an absent presence. "Still not yet." And then she dropped to her knees in front of the headstone and pulled the scarf up over her face, burying her flooding tears in its folds.

37. Sensation

Ecstasy was something Melody and Iris knew only vaguely of, because they were well rounded, well behaved, and trying something of that sort wasn't really on the agenda of either girl.

When they did try it, it was an accident. Spiked drinks at a club Debrah dragged them off to that neither of them thought to refuse.

An alien trill of heat rushed into Melody and roared inside. Every sense was keen and hypersensitive. Especially touch. She and Iris danced together, pop-out beams of color from the spotlight flashing over them and gliding across the floor. Iris brushed against her ever so slightly, and it sent a jolt through the fabric of her dress. That simple touch was like a dose of velvet electricity and Melody needed more.

Rational thought- or really, thought of any kind -was put on hold and forgotten. Primal senses were in control and the only thing that mattered, surging within her and demanding satisfaction.

Melody seized Iris around the waist and crashed their lips together, heart racing and skin blazing with an all-consuming flame of eager sensation. Electric rainbows made of powdered sugar and lightning storms ran through her veins and put her on top of the clouds at the bottom of the world. Iris returned her attack with vivacity, grinding against Melody and nipping at her mouth and grazing her cheeks with fevered kisses.

All it took was one little chemical to make you go insane over your best friend and banish the capacity to wonder why.

38. Mistake

"P...Please...Help me..."

Dimitry stared down at the broken little girl with carnation splashed platinum tresses in pigtails and realized with stark horror that he couldn't help her. She'd fallen through the floor on the second story of the castle and how she'd gotten up there to begin with, Dimitry had absolutely no clue. She was broken and dying with her limbs twisted under her and blood bubbling out of her small, trembling lips. The scent of that blood was driving him mad and he had to fight the urge to kill with every bit of his straining willpower.

"Pl...Please..." Her silver eyes were as round as the moon that shined light in through the broken stained glass and fallen rafters. Despite her grievous condition, they were alert and aware. Unstinting agony lit those eyes and they begged him for relief with every thick wheeze that sent more blood rolling down her crooked chin.

Dimitry wanted to help her. He yearned to provide her with the relief she so desperately needed, but he couldn't help her, not truthfully. There was one thing he could do, but in the long run, that was not helping. That so called 'help' would be condemning her, cursing her. And yet...It would steal her pain away, for the time being. And he couldn't just sit there, not with those despairing eyes locked onto his and beseeching him to do something.

He dipped his head down before he could reconsider and sank his fangs into her jugular. She let out a ragged gasp and a soft, garbled cry that may have been a question.

He sucked her lifeblood away and relished every second of it, for this was the first time he ever fed the way he was supposed to, on a human. He was so indulgent in the task that he nearly drained her of every single drop. But he stopped himself in time. Perhaps he shouldn't have, he'd likely save her pain if he just killed her. But alas, he couldn't bring himself to commit such a thing. If he did indeed still have a soul, it would not be stained with the evil of taking a human life.

When her eyes fluttered open again, her body was no longer broken and his tongue had cleaned away the last of her blood from his mouth. She sat up and stared at herself incredulously. "Wh-What just...What did you...?" He slim, pale fingers found her neck and the twin bite marks there.

"You asked me to help you...I did the closest thing to it I could." He lowered his head with jaded carmine eyes wearily fixed on her. "Before I properly explain what it was I just did, pray miss, tell me your name."

"...Nina."

39. Cute

Chocolate apples. The trees were growing chocolate apples and the shrubs were sprouting candies.

"I don't think I'm well," Lysander murmured to himself, staring at the tree in bemusement. But then the figure at the base of the tree caught his attention. A small boy in gray with long, floppy rabbit ears. He lay curled up on his side and napping the day away.

Lysander crouched down and took a closer look at the boy, smiling irresistibly. He was just adorable! Before Lysander could really think about what he was doing, he reached out and stroked one of the boy's drooping ears. The plush gray fur was just like fleece. In the back of his head, he realized it was very rude to pet someone's ears without their permission, but it was just so soft and pleasant that he couldn't help himself.

"Mmnh?" The boy blinked his eyes open, gaze blearily sliding up to Lysander.

"Sorry!" Lysander promptly pulled his hand back, feeling the heat of embarrassment color his cheeks.

"That actually felt kind of nice." The boy yawned and sat up, his sleeves drooping as he stretched his arms over his head. "You can keep petting my ears if you want, just don't pull on them. If you do, I'll scream and you'll be arrested."

"Um...No, that's alright. But could you tell me where I am?"

The boy got up and brushed himself off. "Sure. If you can catch me first." Then he flashed Lysander a devious smirk and took off running.

40. Nightstick

"Viktor?"

"Yes?" He lowered the book he was reading and gave his attention to Lynn.

"Why are they called nightsticks?" She tipped her head to one side, pine depths glinting curiously.

"What?"

"The baton things cops use. Why do they call them nightsticks? I mean, they can be used during the day, right?"

"Yes, Lynn, I'm sure they can use them during the day." He smiled in amusement. "I don't know why they're called nightsticks though. Ask the internet."

"Nah." She plopped her chin in her hands. "Asking the internet is copping out."

"..."

"Heheh. Get it? Copping out?"

"Yeah...I got it."

41. Hello Eggman

Alexy ushered Armin back down to the mattress, shooting him a stern look that was not to be argued with. "No Dante's Inferno. You need sleep."

Armin glowered up in protest, flushed and sweating with a fever the ibuprofen just couldn't seem to knock out. "You can't hold me hostage like this. Sleep can wait, I'm about to finish The Eighth Circle of Hell."

"No. Finish it tomorrow." Alexy pulled the blanket up to his twin's chest.

"Just let him finish the stage," Kentin piped up. "Knowing him it won't take too long anyway."

"Thank you, Ken," Armin muttered hoarsely.

"Don't call me Ken!"

"He needs rest!" Alexy planted his hands firmly on his hips.

"Messing with a controller isn't exactly like running a marathon." The brunette rolled his eyes.

"Since when do you take his side?"

"Since I think you're overreacting...And I'm actually kinda curious to see what happens next. That's a pretty cool game."

"What? They're all the same! He kills one big thing, then runs around killing smaller things for awhile, and then kills another big thing."

"You don't know what you're talking about. It's so much more than that."

"I don't know what I'm talking about? What do you mean I don't know what I'm talking about? He plays these games all day long! I've seen it all!"

Armin meanwhile had snuggled into the pillow and drifted off, all their banter serving as a wayward lullaby.

42. Nope

"I wish you weren't so old, Louis," Marcese sighed as she sauntered up to the counter, shopping basket full.

"Excuse me?" Louis started to ring up the items, not sure how to take that statement.

"I never have luck with any of the girls or boys at this school. But whenever I come shopping here, you always have exactly what I need."

"Well...I do have a strapping grandson about your age that really takes after me. I could introduce you."

"Really!?"

"No. I'm just joshing you. I don't have a grandson."

43. Misunderstanding

"He dumped me," Laeti sniffled. "I can't believe it! My heart, oh, my poor heart! He was so handsome and we were meant to be, oh what will I do now?"

"Oh," Iris frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I know how much you really liked Armin." She gently patted Laeti on the back. She didn't bother to correct Laeti in the sense that one actually had to be involved in a relationship with someone to get dumped.

"Armin? No, I got over him yesterday. I was talking about Dajan! I was in love the moment I laid eyes on him. But he's not interested in me." She wiped a tear from the corner of her baby-blue eye.

Laeti sure did fall in love a lot. "I'm sorry," Iris repeated again. "But you know, boys aren't the only things in the world that matter." She offered the weeping teen a smile of encouragement and took her in her arms in an attempt to console her.

"Ohh...Iris, you're absolutely right! When it comes to love, gender doesn't matter at all!" Laeti's head snapped up and she puckered her lips, leaning in to meet Iris's.

"Oh, n-no!" Iris stammered and unwound her arms from Laeti. She laughed nervously as she scrambled back a few steps and narrowly avoided knocking over a desk. "That's not what I meant, hehe. I meant you could find another hobby, or something. Like scrap booking."

Laeti blinked and chewed softly on her lower lip. She didn't reply.

"Err...Laeti?"

"I've been dumped again!" She hung her head.

44. Sweet

"Here, take this," said Capucine, holding out something wrapped in paper towel.

Nathaniel took it and unfolded the corners of the paper towel to see what it was. A fat cinnamon roll, glazed with sugary white frosting. "Oh, wow. Thanks Capucine. I'm touched by the offer, really, but I'll have to decline. My taste buds aren't very fond of sweets."

"It isn't for you," she snorted disdainfully as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. "I want you to give it to Amber for me."

Oh. So that was how it was. Nathaniel took the cinnamon roll and crammed it into his mouth.

45. Minute Difference

Kim strolled down the beach. It was early in the morning, the sun just having risen, and she thought she would have the seaside all to herself. Imagine her surprise when she saw a figure further down the sand, moving about and throwing something into the water. Kim paused and watched, lime eyes following his movements as he continued to pick somethings up and chuck them into the ocean.

Her interest perked, she walked over. When she was close enough to see the figure was a tanned, tattooed boy with his hair hanging lose and falling out of his ponytail, she called out; "Hey. What are you doing?"

He tossed what he had in his hand before looking to her. "Throwing starfish into the ocean. Otherwise they'll die, with the tide going out like it is."

"Huh." Kim stopped about a meter from him and glanced down at the starfish dotting the shoreline near her toes. She reached down and picked one up, whirling and heaving it into the ocean as far as she could. "I'll help you."

He cracked a grin as he picked up another doomed starfish. "Great."

And so they spent the rest of the morning hurling starfish into the sea. They couldn't save all of them of course, and overall didn't even make a dent in the amount that littered the beach. But they did more than most people would care to do, and that would have to suffice.

46. Ghastly Nightmarish Fuckery

It had to be a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare brought on by smoking something weird, or eating something weird, or drinking something weird, or coming down with something weird.

Because Leigh was in his bed and he was naked.

And that wasn't right. Because Leigh was his best friend's brother and happily involved with Rosalya and Castiel didn't even really talk to him all that much. Yeah. It was a nightmare. No matter how real things looked or felt, it had to be a nightmare. Deciding not to wake the nightmare, Castiel slid out of bed, grabbed a pair of pants off the floor, and crept from the room as quietly as possible.

He changed in the bathroom (which wasn't really changing so much as it was just putting some pants on) and decided to take Demon for a walk. Because he'd been too busy lately and hadn't taken Demon for a good, long, walk in awhile.

And in the 1 in 9,999,999,999,999,999 chance that this wasn't a nightmare, he wanted to be gone when Leigh woke up. Because if he was gone, logically, Leigh would leave and this would be one of those things that would be erased from existence.

47. Pillows

"They're funny," Marcese breathed, sitting up in the bed and holding her pillow in her lap.

"What's funny?" Viktor lifted a brow.

"Pillows."

"Why are pillows funny?"

"Because they're so soft and downy, and they're made for people to rest their heads on. But at the same time, they're really great for smothering the life out of someone."

The future businessman stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I think everything is like that. At least a little bit."

"I'm inclined to agree."

48. Ticklish

Violette was ticklish. No ifs ands or buts about it. She was very likely one of the most ticklish people on the planet. And after Kim discovered this fact, she was doomed.

"Kim! Kim, stop!" Violette was half laughing and half screaming as the taller female wrestled her to the floor.

"No!" A devious grin stretched from ear to ear. She pinned Violette's wrists above her head with one hand and tickle-tortured her with the other. Her fingers skittered and wiggled across every sensitive, ticklish stretch of skin. Violette writhed and bubbled with squeaky laughter beneath her, squirming like a worm but unable to escape.

"St-Stop! I c-can't handle it!"

"Alright, alright. I guess I've tormented you enough for one day." Kim let go of Violette's wrists and snickered to herself as she climbed off the smaller teen's legs.

Violette sat up and wiped away her tears of laughter. "For one day?"

Kims grin broadened.

49. Vinyl

Peggy reached out and closed her fingers around the record she wanted to buy, just as another pair of hands clasped around the same one. They brushed hers and she looked up sharply, ready to chew out whoever wanted to buy this because no way, she had it first. She was surprised to see the familiar bicolored eyes and silver-to-black fringe.

"Oh! Hey Lysander."

"Hello." He blinked in bemusement, seemingly just as surprised to see her. And when she didn't let go of the record, he relented and let go first, like he could be counted on to do. Peggy would've gladly put up a fight to purchase what she'd rightfully laid her hands on first, if only by a few milliseconds, but Lysander was the civil type and a fight was not necessary.

"I didn't know you shopped here." She plucked the album out of the bin.

"I don't often. Most of their selection isn't to my taste, though when they get something in stock that is, I make sure to stop by. Vinyl has an irresistible quality."

"It really does." She mulled something over and rocked back on her heels. "When I'm done listening to this, you can borrow it."

Surprise flickered across his face, then replaced with a subtle smile. "I'll have to take you up on that, Peggy. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she chirped, and then skipped away to the counter to pay.

50. Serpent

He heard the spine chilling hiss before he saw the scaly creature and by then it was too late. Moving a pot of peonies, Jade disturbed a sunning viper. The snake rocked back and sprung faster than the eye can blink. Its fangs sank right through the material of his glove and pierced the flesh below. Its bite was searing agony. Jade reeled, tripping over a rake and crashing into a ficus.

He didn't know anything about snakes, but the feeling told him it was poisonous. It felt like microscopic fire ants were injected with the venom. They skittered under his skin and though his veins, clamping their pinchers around every individual blood cell. He struggled to a stand and ignored the white sparks that interrupted his vision. He scrambled for the door, and very well would have made it, had he not tripped over a shovel.

Jade stumbled and tumbled, pitching forward and falling into a hydrangea shrub. It just so happened to be the same shrub where a nest of immature vipers were taking residence. They attacked the gardener simultaneously, going for whatever piece of him was available. Nose, cheeks, legs, belly. They struck him quick, and they struck more than once, injecting more lethal, unseen fire ants.

He cried out, but the piteous, pained noise barely left his rapidly swelling throat. It was just as well, no one was in the vicinity to hear anyway. His life was fleeting and his last moments were sweltering anguish. But they didn't last very long. All was over in under five minutes, and eventually someone would wander into the greenhouse and find his bloated, discolored carcass.

Well now that my brain is done eating its wings and rolling in its own barf, I'm gonna go bury my shame in a lemon seed and snooze for a few hours o.e'