Give me a sentence and I will write a story from it.

For Girff Frankenstein: I went against the world just so I could take one long look at your face and hold your hands for the last time. I saw you smile at me. I didn't know what was going to happen. I knew you'd have the same reaction I'd have. I couldn't stand it. You're my little brother, and I love you. You're a man and you're my brother. But the world was in shambles, and there was nothing I could do for you. "I'm going to miss you so much, Ben. I love you. I can't believe I just said those words." Ben's breaths grow more shallow. He swallows hard, realizing his own weakness, but still it makes him so happy to hear his distant mother say those words. As his last gasp slipped from his lips, he found himself grateful to a mother he hardly got the chance to know.

Thank you. I really appreciate the fact that you came up with something like this in such a short time. Just amazing. Keep it up.

For Veru.... Big booty bitches all in my hood. I always liked big butt. Nah, that ain't even me! That's my ex. She's a hoe! Butts like hers is why I got into this whole hoes game. It's like game of hoes up in here, and I'm about to sit atop the throne of big booty. (that's all I got. It's hard to capture the booty in prose)

"In the end there was nothing but silence, yet in that moment I was truly at peace, I dont remember how I reached this point, but I knew it didn't matter"

For BurningHalo, "They were kind enough to pretend like they cared, I was kind enough to pretend I believed it." "But what could have possibly made you do that, when the first and only time that we ever made any progress in any way, we were being told to do it by your own country?" "I don't know. I'm not sure that's why, but... well." Mickey took a contemplative drag on his cigar. "And what are your feelings about how things turned out?" Mickey shrugged, visibly uncomfortable with the question. "Well, it wasn't my fault, and I don't think you understand that." "Is that so?" Martinez responded. Another minute or so passed in silence as the two stood watch. "You're not a real person." Martinez said, "But even if your not, this is still a world that needs our help. So it's not really the fault of the real you. It's just a very specific problem." "Hmm." Mickey, as always, avoided the conversation. It happened every time Martinez tried bringing his powers up. "I'm sorry, did you want to talk about something else? I think you're starting to tire of the whole subject." "I'm going to be honest with you. It feels like there is a burning halo around my neck. How many more days do you think I can keep my power shining?" Mickey's words are met with silence. Mickey continued, "The pain of my hand, the tightness... It's a feeling that I want to release. When you put that much power into something, you're sure to feel that when it fails. And I can feel now that it is becoming unstable. You don't know a damn thing about sacrifice." Mickey flicks the cigar butt on the ground and stomps on it, pushing his hands into his pockets for warmth and retires to the barracks. Martinez felt guilty about what he said, but didn't go after him. Instead he hunched over in his chair and braced himself against the cold dark night.

okay, I think I'm tired now. Gotta go to sleep. I may come back to this later. Thanks for being so engaged with my writing, everyone :)