|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
First YuleHiccup's first Yule without Astrid was proving to be unbearably difficult. He had hoped that one day, they'd be spending that merry time of partying and feasting together as adults, telling their children stories of the Yule Lads and instructing them to keep their shoes in the window to receive gifts from them, as well as decorating their holiday tree together as a small, happy family.
Instead, she wasn't there at all to partake in the festivities, and Hiccup was left to care for her son, who wasn't even his own.
The baby was just weeks shy of turning a year old, and already had a head full of downy blonde hair, sturdy little legs, and Tuffnut's mischievous, crooked grin. As Hiccup made himself busy carving runes in the Yule log, he glanced up for a moment to see little red-faced Rowan curiously admiring the holiday tree, which was decorated with many small wooden figures of the gods as well as colorful pieces of clothing. Hiccup smiled as he watched Rowan reach forward to clasp a hand
Alfredo glanced down at his cell phone, which was sitting a few inches away from his laptop, when he heard it vibrate. The screen glowed softly, silently announcing 1 New Message. He reached for it and quickly read over the short text message, which the phone told him was from Colette.
Alfredo I need to talk with u. im busy so txt me.
With a small smile on his lips, he hurriedly replied to her. He loved every minute of talking with her, whether they were talking or texting. They'd been dating since La Ratatouille had opened just about a year now, he quickly figured in his head. And it had been the craziest, most incredible, and happiest year of his entire life; and he could never remember being happier in all his eighteen years of existence.
Hey, what's going on? He replied.
She sent a message back only moments later. A lot. there's something I need to tell u.
Alfredo furrowed his brow a bit and tilted his head, tapping the keys li
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
Keep in Touch!