#i’ll probably have some more solid thoughts once i see all the tv classrooms and finish the game | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stylesluxx · 4 years

Text

waiting – p.lahote

[warnings: poorly written angst and like one swear]

summary: in which y/n is tired of waiting for paul | requested!

word count: 2,688

masterlist

Paul moved in next door when you were eight, so you can't say that you knew him your whole life but it felt like it. You two were inseparable. If people saw Paul, they saw you. The only time you two might be separated is when you're in your respective homes, but even then Paul stayed at your house a lot.

When your parents went through their divorce, Paul was your shoulder to cry on. His parents went through a divorce and that's how he ended up in La Push. He knew the sadness you were feeling and was always there. He's the main reason you wanted to stay with your dad, so you'd still be neighbors. Your mom was only moving to Seattle but you didn't think you could be away from Paul.

While your parents were separating and settling everything, you two would have movie nights, dinner dates, walks, literally anything that would distract you from whatever was happening at home. He was always the one to initiate it and he was so thoughtful. He was your anchor.

And when he was getting into more and more arguments with his dad, you'd sneak him in so he could sleepover and clear his head. Paul was always easily angered but it just got worse as he grew up, so the arguments got more and more intense. The fights became so frequent that your dad eventually found out you were sneaking him in but he never questioned it, just told you that you didn't have to sneak him in anymore. And if it was a school night, Paul would leave early the next morning, so that he could get ready and walk back to your house since you were his ride.

It was one of those days. He left around 6:30 to go shower and eat but was back at your house at 7:30 on the dot.

"You okay? You look sick," You asked him.

His face was red but he wasn't angry, and his eyes were low as if he were tired.

"I don't feel good. I don't feel sick but I just feel weird. I saw my dad and just I don't know... felt disgusted. I don't know. Let's just go," He tried to articulate but failed.

He trudged over to your car and got in the passenger seat. You followed and got in the driver's side, starting the car but not pulling off right away. You sat for a second and looked over at him.

"Do you want to stay home? I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind," You asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"No, I'm okay," He huffed and looked out his window.

You hesitantly nodded before putting your seatbelt on and pulling off.

Once you got to the school, you both got out of the car and grabbed your bags. As you walked toward the building, you wanted to reach for him and wrap an arm around his waist like you normally did but decided against it.

You went to your lockers and then met back in homeroom, where he immediately rested his head on the desk. And within seconds he was quietly snoring, making you chuckle and shake your head.

The rest of the day went by like this until you were in algebra. The other teachers had let Paul rest but this one wasn't having it with him today. He had been pestering Paul to wake up every ten minutes and you understood why but you also just wanted him to leave your friend alone; he was clearly having a rough day.

You were working on a problem when Paul shot up from his seat next to you and started to make his way to the door. Startled, you didn't say anything and just settled with the thought that maybe he was going to grab some water. But the teacher wasn't going to let him slip away that easy. You sighed and started packing up you and Paul's things; you knew this probably wouldn't end well.

"Mister Lahote, you can't just walk out of class," His words stopped Paul, whose hand was on the doorknob.

"Who's gonna stop me?" Paul challenged and turned back to face the teacher who was looking beyond awestruck.

"Paul, relax," You spoke up and quickly walked over to him, his bag on one shoulder and your bag on the other.

"No, he's been bothering me all-"

"Okay, let's go," You cut him off and dragged him out of the classroom.

You gave the teacher an apologetic look but caught the eye of Jared Cameron. He wasn't someone you'd talk to on a regular but he also wasn't someone you avoided. You looked away, assuming he was just another nosy classmate, nothing more.

"Hey what's wrong with you? You can't just snap at teachers like that!" You scolded Paul but he just rolled his eyes as if he were being reprimanded by a parent.

"I need to go," He said and took his bag from your shoulder.

"We only have two more periods left," You tried to reason. "We can hang out in the library for the rest of algebra-"

"I need to go."

His voice was solid and unwavering so you knew there was no arguing with him.

"Alright, I'll take you. Come on."

You took the risk and reached to hold on to his wrist as you walked out of the building. He didn't protest and only pulled away once you got to the car.

"My house or yours?" You asked him once you got close to home.

"Mine."

You simply nodded and pulled into his driveway. It was weird that he didn't want to go hang out at your house but today wasn't the day to question him.

"I'll be back after school," You told him and watched as he got out the car.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it before shutting the door behind him and walking into his house.

A small smile graced your face as you drove back to the school and carried through for the rest of the day. You thought it meant that he'd be okay and maybe he was already starting to feel better. You didn't think it meant he'd disappear for weeks.

You arrived back at his house after school, knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell feverishly but you never got a response.

"Alright well, I'll just leave your homework here then. See you tomorrow? Text me," You sighed and set the papers down.

You placed a rock on top of the papers so they wouldn't fly away and walked back to your car.

Maybe he was sleeping or maybe he went out. But his truck was there. It never crossed your mind that he was ignoring you, especially since you did nothing to him.

The next morning came and it was radio silence from Paul. It was 7:30 and he still wasn't at your house. Maybe he got into a fight with his dad and was running late. But he always texted you when he was going to be late, no matter what. If he was a minute late, you'd get a text. But today you got nothing. It was 7:40 when you texted him, saying you'd leave with or without him at 7:50.

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt since he had a rough day yesterday but it was hard when he didn't communicate with you.

At 8:00, you stood up from the couch and turned the tv off. You walked to the door and snatched your bag from off the floor and stormed out the house, slamming the door shut behind you.

If there was anything you hated, it was your time being wasted and your kindness being taken for granted.

Your spot was still empty when you got to school but you didn't see Paul's truck. So he must've still been home. And Paul wasn't the type to come late. If he was already an hour behind, he just wasn't going.

It was weird spending a month looking for someone you were usually attached at the hip to. For a month, he wasn't in school and his truck never moved from his driveway. You tried texting and calling but the texts never delivered and you were always sent straight to voicemail. And you didn't want to ask his dad where he was simply because you didn't like him so at this point you didn't even know if he was alive.

Friday morning, Paul walked through the main doors, Jared Cameron by his side, laughing up a storm and looking smug.

You wanted to confront him, you really did, but seeing him so happy halted you where you stood. After seeing how miserable he was the last time you saw him, you didn't want to bother him. And if he had to be away from you to be happy, you'd accept it, even if you were stuck in a void.

You never really sat down and processed how Paul's absence affected you. But seeing him, everything was starting to crumble. He left and it was so abrupt and unwarranted. You questioned if it was something you did even though you knew you didn't do anything. Maybe you weren't there for him in the way he needed you to be. The way Jared supposedly was. You were angry, sad, and confused but at the same time, you were relieved. It was good to see him safe but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were unwanted.

For a month it felt like you were drifting away, here but not really. And now it felt as if you were sinking and quickly.

You pulled your hood on over your head and slammed the locker shut. You walked to homeroom, weaving in and out of people so you could get a spot in the back of the classroom.

Sitting in your usual spot was no longer an option since it seemed like Paul was avoiding you at all costs. And if he wants to play that game, you can play it ten times better.

Avoiding Paul was easy since he seemed he wasn't even worried about you. But avoiding all the eyes of your nosy classmates was a task itself.

At lunch, you couldn't even stay in the lunchroom. It was as if everyone was talking about you and Paul. You heard a few theories about why you weren't close anymore, all of which were silly. You overhead people saying that you finally confessed your feelings for him and he rejected you so now you're avoiding each other. But that one wasn't nearly as popular as the theory that Paul ditched you to go join a gang and do drugs.

It was all so tiring and eye-roll worthy, so you got up, tossed the food that you barely touched away, and walked out the lunchroom, not bothering to look back at all the eyes you knew were on you.

You started toward the lobby for the school, deciding it was time to go home. You should've figured it was going to be a bad day once you saw that Paul's truck wasn't in the driveway when you left for school.

You were halfway through the parking lot when you were stopped by someone calling your name.

"For fuck's sake," You mumbled to yourself and turned around.

It was a senior named Zander. While Paul was still your friend, he made it very clear how much he didn't like the older boy. He always just said he gives off weird vibes whenever you asked why he didn't like him. But now that you're standing in front of him, you completely understood what Paul meant.

"Hey," He said as he jogged toward you and when he stopped you finally got a good look at him.

His brown hair was styled into a quiff and his brown eyes pierced into with fake concern. Paul's eyes always matched his intentions, he was never one to fake anything. And despite Paul ghosting you, you were looking for him to come and save you.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Lahote," He continued.

At first, you were shocked by his boldness but you decided it'd be best to play dumb and mess with him.

"What happened with him?" You asked and titled your head to play the confused role perfectly.

"He like ditched you and joined a gang," He spoke as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

"He ditched me? It's weird that you know more about my life than I do," You were being sarcastic but the boy in front of you just wasn't getting it.

"Well, enough about him. I was wondering if you'd let me take you on a date."

You were truly dumbfounded now. The jump from gossip to dates gave you whiplash. In what world did he think that that was a good segway?

"Uh... I'm actually really busy. I just started a new job that I'm already running late to so I'll see you-"

"I've been wanting to ask you but you've always seemed so attached to Paul like you couldn't breathe without him. Maybe if you started talking to other people, you wouldn't be so dependent on him," He scoffed.

"Are you, like, kiddi-"

"Paul!"

You sighed at the sound of another voice and looked over Zander's shoulder. Paul was storming down the steps of the school with his new best friend in tow.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" He hostilely questioned Zander, getting in his face.

"And look who it is. The boy that ditched his only friend to go do drugs. Honestly, I don't think you have any say in what she does," Zander bit back, not stepping back from a fuming Paul.

Now that the boy was standing next to you, you noticed how different he looked. He grew a few inches and now towered over you. He was muscular, not scrawny like he was a few weeks ago. And if your eyes weren't deceiving you, he had a tattoo that was peeking out of the short sleeve.

Paul's face was now a bright red and his entire body was shaking profusely. You've seen Paul angry but you've never seen him like this.

"Paul?" You called out and looked up at his face. "Paul, are you okay?"

"Paul, not here,” Jared tried to get through to him.

You moved yourself to stand in between the two boys since you saw that neither was going to back down.

"Paul," You spoke calmly and looked up at his eyes.

He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours, and he relaxed almost instantly. He stopped shaking and his face was back to a gentle composition.

"Freaks," Zander mumbled and walked by to the school.

You took a step back from Paul now that you had space behind you.

"You okay?" You asked, your eyes never leaving his.

"Y-yeah-"

"Great," You nodded and moved to go around him and to your car. You didn't want to talk to him any more than you needed to. What did you have to talk about unless he was apologizing?

"Y/N, wait!" Paul objected and grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him.

"Wait for what? Don't you think I've done enough waiting, Paul? I waited around for you for far too long. And now you only want to admit I exist when some other guy wants to talk to me? We're not friends anymore. You made that very clear. I've waited for you but now I'm done," You ranted before looking back at Jared. "Good luck with... whatever."

You pulled your arm out of his grip and stalked to the car just as the rain started.

"Wasn't even supposed to rain," You mumbled to yourself and pulled out of the parking spot.

As you drove out of the parking lot, you watched as Paul stood there, mouth agape. You watched as he got smaller and until you eventually didn't see him anymore.

Now he'd know how it felt to be left stranded and waiting.

[AN: I don’t think I’m gonna write a part two for this just because it’d be super cliche and I try to avoid stuff like that lol. but shoutout to the anon that requested this because this inspired me to write; I’ve been trying to write for like a month or two now but like I’ve been stuck. and also to the anon that sent the embry request, I didn’t forget about you ! xoxo]

#stylesluxx #paul lahote #twilight #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #wolf pack imagine #paul lahote angst #Paul Lahote blurb #paul lahote fluff #twilight blurb

686 notes · View notes

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

Link

Dear Tucker Carlson,

Hey Tuck, I just got done watching a segment of your show. You know, the one where you suggest that there should be a camera in every classroom in order to root out…let me get this accurate…”civilization ending poison.” https://twitter.com/ndrew_lawrence/status/1412566208763895810

I’m going to zig where you thought most teachers would zag. I welcome your Orwellian cameras in my classroom. Frankly, I don’t know many teachers who would object to having people watch what we do. As a matter of fact, I hate to tell you this Tucker Swanson McNear Carlson, but most of us spent the last year having video cameras in our classrooms.

See, I think you believe that your suggestion that people see what happens in our classrooms will somehow scare teachers. The truth of it is that we have been begging for years to have people, such as yourself, come into our classrooms. I somewhat famously asked Ms. DeVos to visit a public school before she became Secretary of Education (https://www.huffpost.com/entry/an-introduction-from-public-school-teachers-to-betsy_b_5845e2fbe4b0707e4c8171a3). It’s unclear whether she has yet to set foot in an actual public school classroom, but I digress. I sense that you think you’ll see all of us pinko teachers speaking endlessly about Critical Race Theory leading to…and again, let me get this right, “civilization ending poison.” I’ve been in a lot of classrooms (more than you I am willing to bet) and I think you’re going to be disappointed on that front.

What happens in America’s classrooms is teaching and learning. Your “spy cameras” will see teachers and students working together to be better every day. I’ll tell you what I saw on a tour of classrooms not that long ago. I saw a group of kindergartners trying to create bridges over running water with basic classroom supplies in a lesson about collaboration. I saw a high school literature class talking about the character development in The Glass Menagerie. I saw a middle school history class participating in group project where they had to solve problems in a fictional city, with specifics of how they would utilize resources and build public support for their projects. Anyone watching your cameras will see learning…all day every day.

For those who watch your “nanny cams” carefully, they’ll see a lot of other things as well. They will see teachers working with students who have vastly different life experiences. They will see students who are fluent in multiple languages working with teachers to become proficient in yet one more language. They will see students who are hungry get their one solid meal a day in the cafeteria. They will see students itching for more fine arts, industrial technology, or world languages to be offered in their school. In my classroom, if we’re being honest, they’ll probably hear some sketchy intonation from my saxophones, and I promise we’re working on it. But for sure, they will see learning…all day every day.

To be honest, I’m fascinated by the logistics of your proposal. In a world where school districts are struggling to recruit and maintain teachers, who is going to man your “citizen review boards” (setting aside the fact that public school teachers already answer to publicly elected school boards)? For instance, in my school district I sense you would need well over 500 cameras going every day. Who watches those 500 screens 10 hours a day (I want you watching my 7 am jazz band and my after school lessons)? What qualifications would these “experts” need to know what they were watching for? What happens when they catch a teacher teaching…let me get this right…”civilization ending poison?” Who do they report that to? I’m also curious who will pay for all of this incredible technology. Maybe I missed it, but can you point me to a K-12 institution where Critical Race Theory is being taught? Hell, can you define Critical Race Theory for all of us? I’m sure you’ve got answers to all of these questions.

Frankly, I’ve never been able to figure out, instead of dreaming up Orwellian plans to have Big Brother in all of our classrooms, why you don’t round up an army of bright young conservatives to actually step up and teach? Is it because teachers work hard, aren’t paid as much as those with similar educational backgrounds, don’t have support from our elected officials, constantly serve as punching bags for those who don’t understand public education, or is it just because it’s easier to throw rocks at a house than to build one?

Here’s the real deal Tuck, I grew up with my mom making me eat your family’s Salisbury Steaks once every couple of weeks (his family makes Swanson TV dinners) for many years. I struggle to take advice on teaching and learning from a guy who makes a steak that, on its best day, tastes like shoe leather that has been left out in a goat pasture for a few weeks. I get that Critical Race Theory is your latest attempt to scare your easily manipulated demographic, but let’s just admit that you don’t know what you’re talking about.

With all of that being said, count me on the cameras Tucky. Like many teachers, I’m in the early stages of understanding Critical Race Theory (most of us hadn’t heard about it until you and your people started crying about it), but if you find me teaching it, have one of the Tucker Youth watching your surveillance devices let me know. If Critical Race Theory involves talking honestly about American history, I’m probably doing that sometimes. I spent much of the last six years advocating for a way for teaching to become more transparent, and in the dumbest way possible, you are joining that crusade. Let’s make this happen TV Dinner Boy.

Sincerely,

Patrick J. Kearney

Actual Teacher

#education #teaching and learning #Patrick J. Kearney #political

13 notes · View notes

shoichee · 4 years

Text

Red Rose

Part 3 of the Pun Fest collection!

Akashi x Reader

Word Count: 4,355

Synopsis: You made it a challenge for yourself as the esteemed 1st year class clown to get a reaction out of Akashi. Not just any Akashi, however. Boku-Akashi. Things quickly get too out of hand.

Note: I will be trying to avoid describing the “color” of Akashi’s eyes because they are actually a non-diegetic effect, where the animation/visuals are flashy/emphasized for the audience to see, but in the canon universe, they don’t actually look like that and no one will actually see said animations, and such.

»��—————　☼　—————««

“...and after that, his ass fell flat on the floor right in front of everybody! Can you believe that?”

As your voice chimed throughout the halls, your fellow classmates were stifling their laughter but chortles still escaped from their suppressed lips. Hayama smacked your head in utter embarrassment.

“You’ve already told that story to everyone, c-cut it out already!”

“Kotarooooo,” you pouted. “Not my fault that they kept asking for me to retell it again.” You stuck your tongue at him.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, figurative irk marks popping up on his temple. “You needa show some more respect to your senpais!” With that, he started grabbing your head to mess with your hair.

“H-Hey! It’s not my fault that you tried to impress a passerby 3rd year girl by doing a failed dribbling trickshot,” you vehemently protested, trying to rip his strong grip off your poor hairline.

Your classmates were either watching with complete entertainment or with concern for your safety as both you and the Uncrowned King were duking it out and sidestepping each other.

… That is, until they grew increasingly uncomfortable after spotting a particular redhead walking in their direction.

You and Hayama were too invested in the playfight to notice the unforeseen deathly silence and chilled air that accompanied it.

“Kotarō.”

With a simple call from his airy tone that still somehow glaciated the sunniest of atmospheres, he halted both of you (with his hand still fisted in your hair and you still pulling his cheek) to turn your attention to the person to whom the voice belonged.

Akashi Seijuro.

“C-captain!” Hayama separated from you at an inhumane speed that rivaled his lightning dribbling. You stiffened yourself straight like a plank.

You’ve heard the rumors. From whispering gossipers to personal testimony from your blonde best friend, you knew his presence meant anything but pleasant.

“Did you forget that we had practice today?”

Holy shit. You glanced in the corner of your eye to see Hayama paled before he gulped. Was he gonna be okay?

You dared not move a muscle from where you stood, hoping not to attract the basketball captain’s attention, but you knew you stuck out like a sore thumb after seeing how all the students huddled closer to the walls while you were stuck in the middle along with Hayama and Akashi.

“I knew that you forgot, so I came by for your sake so we can all start practice together as an absolute team.”

Ah… there was his infamous favorite word.

Akashi flickered his catlike gaze to you. He didn’t miss the way your body was paralyzed by fear, but he slightly narrowed his pupils at the fact that you almost looked curious about him.

“We’re going.” He gracefully pivoted around to walk the opposite direction in where he came from.

“I-I’ll see you later, dummy,” he whispered, giving you a playful wink before he strode up to Akashi’s pace, but you knew from his tense back that he was scared shitless of whatever inevitable punishment drill he was going to be tortured by.

You recovered from your stupor and tried to ease Hayama with a joke. “Don’t act all tough, Kota! I know you’re gonna akashit your pants!—” You snorted trying to finish your one-liner but finding your own joke funny. “P-pf-pfft, don’t slip on the floor again, okay?”

And just like that, with your words, the students around you eased up and let out soft chuckles.

Hayama turned back around even as he continued walking. “Oi! Watch it, kid!” He made the motions of pointing his eyes to you, but you knew that he was grateful for you in trying to unravel his bundle of nerves.

Akashi, still walking, merely glanced back at your figure, unamused at your “joke” but nonetheless almost impressed that you actually had some type of leadership charisma to be able to uplift a crowd’s mood in an instant.

. . .

Everyone released a huge sigh of collective relief once the basketball-player duo was out of sight.

“Are you insane, (l/n)?” Another good friend of yours went up to your side. “You had the balls to literally say such a thing in front of him? Of all people?”

“Well, it’s not like, I’d get sent to the faculty office because of him…” you muttered. On second thought, you probably would. This was Akashi Seijuro you were talking about.

Everyone started clamoring as they all started seeing you in a much higher regard; some of them even looked at you with starry eyes and others swore to be your new admirers. The rest, though, thought you had just sealed your fate by getting under Akashi’s radar.

“You’ll be missed and honored,” a classmate said, giving a solid pat to your right shoulder. “What type of flowers would you like for your funeral?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, pointing to your chin and staring at the grand ceiling. You turned to them. “Roses as red as Akashi’s hair and the blood of his victims.”

“(l/n), you did not—”

“Oh my god.”

“Is it too late to become religious just to pray for your wellbeing?”

You just summoned chaos in the hallway for the next hour.

---------

The next morning was just another indication of a mild, warm day in Kyoto as you walked past Rakuzan’s school gates. Or at least, you thought the morning would be fine. Even with your thick uniform blazer, you swore that you felt cold chills running down your spine every now and then when you were strolling your normal route to your class.

There’s the cold chills again.

You stopped and looked around your shoulders and behind your back. No one shady was near; they were all too busy chatting with their friends or changing their shoes in their lockers to care much for your presence. Those who noticed you nearby had already given you a friendly greeting.

You hesitantly walked again, being your usual carefree self but now being hyper aware in tracking the students around you. Your eyes widened.

There.

Had you blinked in that moment, you would have surely missed it, but a flash of red flitted around a corner of a hallway. You sighed and groaned inwardly.

Your classmates were right: you were going to die by the hands of a certain redhead.

This was the price you had to pay for not passing up the perfect opportunity for an iconic line.

---------

“Say,” you said turning to your friend once you entered your classroom. “Has Akashi ever shown a side other than being a calm freak?”

“I don’t know if you ever wanna see anything different than that,” she replied, looking up from her homework.

“Imagine him laughing, though. That’d be news of the century.”

“Dear god, I can’t imagine him laughing other than the kind of scheming cackle you’d get from the TV show villains.” You bursted into a fit of snorts while other students, who were secretly eavesdropping out of curiosity after hearing Akashi’s name, snickered.

Another student wedged himself into your conversation. “No one’s ever seen him show any side of him though. Honestly, he’s like a demon.”

“He’s a 1st year student just like the rest of us,” you chided. “Come on, he’s human too. He wasn’t born to be a calculating machine.”

Everyone in the vicinity gave you incredulous looks (for valid reasons, to be fair).

“Hmph!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll prove it to you guys! He’s not as stone-cold as you think!”

“(y-y/n)-san…” Your friend from earlier tugged onto your sleeve. “You’re really fun to hang around with and all, but…”

“Yeah, um… We know you’re competitive and don’t like to back down, but I think you shouldn’t tread into this type of… dangerous territory.”

“Did you already forget what happened with Hayama-senpai yesterday?”

Pretty soon, a large chorus of agreements and mumbles spread throughout your class. Irked, you pouted as you continued to cross your arms.

“I’m gonna make him laugh, and I’ll do it.”

“Uh..”

“Um…”

No one had the heart to disagree with you when you looked like you sparked a fiery aura around yourself as you raised your fists, ready to take it as a challenge for yourself.

Your classmate sighed. Welp, there’s a reason why you got along with Hayama so well in the first place.

You were both so overly enthusiastic and reckless.

---------

You’ve been thrumming your fingers on your desk throughout your classes, staring blankly as you start stringing up ideas on how to accomplish your “challenge.”

Succeeding in making Akashi laugh is like Hayama agreeing to let the dentist extract his snaggletooth. You’re basically asking for the impossible.

Maybe you should’ve settled for a more realistic goal, but then again, this entire ordeal was an entire miracle on its own.

Ah ha. You stopped your finger taps, hitting a fist to your palm in realization. Maybe you just need to get a reaction out of him, and the rest will eventually fall into place.

At the same time, your friend looked at you in worry; you were making odd hand gestures and mumbling to yourself as you went too deep within your thoughts to regard your surroundings.

Oh dear.

---------

Once lunch began, you immediately left class after incoherent chants of “seeyah” and “gotta go” to go look for Hayama’s corpse and pay your respects for the poor 2nd year after yesterday.

You bought sweet bread from the student store for his offering before you went to look for him.

At the sight of the completely lethargic Hayama, you ran up to him in mock grief.

“Ah, spirit-sama!” you cried out, bowing with your hands clasped together (the bread secured in between). “Please at least tell me that Kota died peacefully—” He interrupted you with a chop to the head.

“Ow! Please don’t curse me, spirit! I didn’t treat him that poorly when he was alive…” You winced, rubbing your head in an attempt to soothe the impact.

“I’m not dead, idiot!” he retorted, but his banter lacked bite, and both of you knew why.

You sighed before you flashed him a genuine worried expression. “Are you okay, though?” You promptly handed him the bread, and he immediately did a 180, hooting and having starry eyes at the package.

“Of course I am,” he said, munching on the bread. “Not! He made me do so many extra drills and exercises that I seriously thought I was gonna die!”

“Okay, before you totally freak out, but please don’t freak out,” you started. You told him about your plan about Akashi.

“You’re gonna WHAT—”

“SHHHhhhHHH—” You clamped over his mouth despite him still chewing. “What did I just say?”

“Reo-nee! Ei-chan!” he called out while you still attempted to close his yapper. “Save meeeee!”

The said Uncrowned Kings nearby eyed you two before looking at each other and shrugged; they strolled up to you.

“Oh? (y/n)-chan?” Reo tucked his strands behind his ear. “Has he been causing a ruckus?”

“I have not—”

“Actually, since you’re here anyways, I wanna ask you all something,” you said. “What do you know about Akashi personally?”

“Huh?” was all you heard from the Uncrowned Kings.

“Well…” Reo hummed. “I might know a thing or two about Sei-chan…”

“I’ll just go get lunch,” Nebuya called out.

---------

Day 1 of the Challenge.

Thanks to Reo, you knew most of Akashi’s schedules so you can find the perfect opportunities to “safely” encounter him.

You waited behind a corner of the hall that you knew Akashi would walk through to get to the student council room during lunch. Peeking out, you looked for scarlet hair, ignoring the judgmental (and curious) glances thrown your way here and there.

The moment you saw that everyone instantly collectively vanished, you knew Akashi was extremely nearby. You took a huge breath, expanding your chest to the point of exaggeration, and turned around the corner to finally meet the infamous emperor.

You casually strolled, putting up an impeccable act that you were naturally there rather than staking out the same spot for 20 minutes.

There he is.

You purposely got closer, hoping the closeness between you two would catch his attention. He walked without a change in expression, however, impassively eyeing you before turning his gaze back to the front. That’s when you saw your opportunity.

You almost bumped into him, but you jumped away at the last second while putting your hands up in surrender.

“W-whoa! Wahh, sorry, Akashi-san!” you quickly apologized in a bow. “Luckily, I had my emperor’s eye to foresee the future and prevented any mishap on my part.” You peeked up from your position to see him standing with his back to you, head turned to the side.

A few beats of silence passed before he said, “Your head is too high.”

“Huh?” You were thrown off. That was the last thing you expected him to say. “Wouldn’t my head not be high because I’m bowing?”

He was still assessing you from the corner of his eye, and you willed yourself to return his stare.

“Stay out of my way.”

“Then you should take your own advice,” you huffed, getting up from your bow. “Yesterday morning, I knew you were watching me at some point before you disappeared.”

But he just turned his head back to the front and continued his intended course for the student council room.

Day 1 Results: he scared the daylights out of you instead of you trying to unnerve him.

---------

Day 2 of the Challenge.

What the hell did he mean by “your head is too high?” You still couldn’t decipher his cryptic line. Maybe he just said it to everyone, but that would be really corny of him; he wasn’t that type of person.

Did he think you were too much of a peasant to even talk to him?

You gritted your teeth. You weren’t gonna give up any time soon.

When everyone was dismissed after school, Hayama let you accompany him to Rakuzan’s spacious gym, under the belief that you were going to go home right after.

As soon as you were both in front of the bulky front doors, you marched right in, catching the blonde off guard so much at the fact that you waltzed in there (full knowing Akashi was in there). He couldn’t yank you out in time even with his lightning reflexes, and you skipped around, being careful to stay near the gym walls to not disrupt anyone. You plopped yourself on one of the further benches where you knew none of the players would ever sit, and as soon as you knew Akashi was in earshot (who was ignoring your existence), you smirked.

“Hey Kota!”

“Huh?” He looked up from rummaging through his duffel bag.

“I’ve heard shogi is being played a lot more by people our age for once, but don’t you think it’s such a dread to play such a dull hobby?”

“Yeah, righ—oh.” He swallowed back his answer in seeing Akashi behind you a few meters away, being as still as a statue.

You gleefully looked behind you, hoping for any entertaining response.

Without moving, he slinked his pupils to you before grabbing a water bottle and leaving.

“C-c-can you just drop this entire thing already?” Hayama runs to your side to give your shoulders a firm shake. “I swear to god, you’re not gonna live at this point!”

“You’re right,” you said. “Just for today, I’ll have to retreat before I’ll die.”

“Not just today!” He shook you harder. “I mean stop this for good!”

“Kota, I already signed a death certificate the moment I bumped into him yesterday. Might as well go all out.”

“Oh god, you started this yesterday?”

“Well, I gotta go! See you tomorrow!”

“... More like see you never.”

Day 2 Results: his reaction was inconclusive, but it was more of a failure than success.

---------

Day 3 of the Challenge.

You were pondering about how to annoy Akashi next, both excited and terrified about where this was going to end up.

“(l/n).”

“Y-yes?” You stood straight up from your seat the moment your homeroom teacher called you.

“During lunch, please make your way to the student council room. You’re needed.”

What in the world was going on?

You fidgeted in your seat for the next few hours, shooting anxious glances at the clock every so often. All your classmates’ words of encouragement went through one ear and out the other.

“You’ll be fine!”

“I’m sure a teacher just wants you to help out with some workload…”

“We’re rooting for you!”

As the lunch bell rang, you braced yourself before you promptly made your way to the room that reeked of that particular chilled atmosphere that repelled most students away.

You prodded the door open, slipped in, and softly clicked the door shut before turning around to face the poker-faced terror sitting on his desk, watching your every move.

“Right on time.”

“You called me here?”

Akashi paid no heed to your outburst and continued. “I’ll admit. I’m quite interested in you. You have the innate sense of magnetism that draws others in.”

D-did he just compliment you?

“I would like to put your leadership to the test. You’re now vice.”

“What? You can’t just make a decision like that!”

“I ordered him to quit. There shouldn’t be a problem.”

What the hell?

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell—

Akashi looked at you like he was peering into the depths of your conscience and simply gave a civil smile.

“I hope you will contribute greatly to this school.”

Day 3 Result: a miserable failure.

---------

Day 4 of the Challenge.

You’re stressed, and it’s all Akashi’s fault.

Which made you even more determined to ruffle his feathers and rile him up.

When news broke out of your new “promotion” as vice president, your classmates celebrated for you and your already high popularity skyrocketed. Your teachers didn’t want to hear you talking about quitting when you “haven’t tried anything yet to know if this job was for you.”

The Rakuzan’s basketball starters (minus Mayazumi) were initially ecstatic for you as well… until you told them about Akashi’s string-pullings.

“I’ll make sure Sei-chan won’t do anything, okay (y/n)-chan?”

“Thanks a bunch, Reo-kun… or should I say… Reokunma (Rilakkuma bear)?” You snapped your fingers at him. He just stared at you and patted your head, totally disregarding the fact that you made a pun.

“Just pack in the muscles and you’ll have nothing to worry about!” Nebuya flexed his biceps before getting a scolding from Reo.

“Shortie! Call me whenever you need help!” Hayama dropped his elbow on top of your shoulder to emphasize his point.

“Argh, Kotarō! You’re not that much taller than me at all!” You rolled your eyes. “If anyone, why don’t you say that to Akashi?”

“Say what.”

Oh fuck.

“S-Sei-chan!...” Reo walked over to Akashi. “If you’re here for us, I thought practice didn’t start until much later!”

“I am here for (y/n).”

His irises contracted, highlighting his feline pupils. “I am depending on you as vice president to make this school an absolute powerhouse.”

He still somehow made that sound extremely condescending, like a king encouraging a mere peasant.

You were scared out of your wits, but you weren’t going to crumble so easily. Not until Akashi did first.

“Buh-bye, everyone! Good luck in practice later!”

. . .

The walk back to the office was painfully silent. You decided to break it.

“I’m not taking back what I said, prez, you’re a shortie.”

He paused in his steps. “You run your mouth while knowing no bounds.”

“You’re just a spoilsport, y’know.”

“My orders are absolute.”

“You know, you’re scary as shit, but the whole ‘absolute’ line kinda grows old when I hear it every time I talk to you.”

Palpable silence blanketed between the two of you once again at your words.

This guy can’t even crack no matter what you do.

You stepped into the office and followed him to his desk. He walked to grab a pen from a drawer before he approached you.

He stepped forward, thrusted the sleek, black fountain pen to your face, and jerked back the writing instrument at the last millisecond.

You froze, forgetting to breathe as you felt the pen nib harshly prodding the tip of your nose.

“Do not make me repeat myself. My orders are absolute.”

He then gave you some paperwork and assignments to complete like nothing ever transpired.

Day 4 Results: you thought being relentless in your attacks would prove beneficial, but you’re starting to regret everything.

---------

Day 5 of the Challenge.

Maybe you needed to avoid direct confrontation, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t get a reaction from him in other ways.

One small perk of being vice was the fact that you no longer needed to tail around Akashi in order to bump into him “coincidentally,” but you’re not sure if this sole advantage could outweigh the disadvantages, particularly one that might result in your early death.

You’re frankly not as scared as you should be, even though you definitely were at those times you were with Akashi. If anything, it pissed you off that he’s always able to get you to jump out of your skin.

He’s just a 1st year. He’s just a 1st year.

You went to the student council room early to tape on a note to his desk, so there wouldn’t be a chance that it would “fall off his desk” and that “he didn’t see it.”

Roses are red,

I suppose you’re “absolute.”

You’ll still be knocked dead,

And there’ll be no dispute.

You snickered. It was too funny to pass up.

Before you left, you took the time to survey around and get a solid look at the office interiors for the first time (since Akashi’s presence made it impossible for anyone to not pay attention to him).

It was ridiculously tidy, all the wooden furniture polished to the point where their mahogany varnishes shined. Books were meticulously ordered by alphabetical order and genres, and they looked like they were all dusted at every free chance. The rugs showcased simple circles, but the minimalism of them added to the office’s air of crisp cleanliness. The gray curtains gently framed the wide window behind Akashi’s desk. But what really caught your eye was a board of shogi and its pieces tucked away in a corner on a high shelf.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try knocking on Death’s door again.

. . .

Akashi’s shoe clicked on the floor as he opened the door. His steps continued to echo throughout the small room as he walked to his desk to start his work, that is, until he saw your note.

“Oh?” A grin snaked its way onto his face by the time he read the last line.

He severely underestimated you. You unexpectedly had tenacity.

No one has ever defied him repeatedly so openly before.

His expression put the notorious Cheshire cat to shame, his ulterior smile occupying half his face as his eyes widened in excitement equivalent to a predator.

Feeling pumped for the first time in a while, he decided to expend his energy on shogi. He carefully brought down the board and placed it onto his desk, going through the familiar motions of unpacking and setting up a game, before he froze.

There were various pencil doodles on each shogi piece. All of them were variants of :/ and :).

You were taking a jab at his personality as well as his mannerisms.

He barked an amused harsh laugh.

. . .

Day 5 Results: truth be told, you were too scared to see him face to face right after your double stunts; since you knew his schedules, you only came into the student council office when you knew he wasn’t inside.

---------

Day 6 of the Challenge.

Continuing to avoid him would already confirm to Akashi that you were actually shaken up by the high possibility of him retaliating, and you definitely weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

You went to class as always, and by break, you feigned innocence as you strolled into the council room, seeing Akashi leaning against the table.

“Good morning, Akashi.”

He nodded in acknowledgment before he gave a full, predatory smile, his pupils focused on you.

“To continue to fuel diligent work, it’s beneficial to recognize one’s efforts by giving gifts.”

What? Was he not going to bring up what you did yesterday?

He pulled out a single red rose and gracefully tilted it for you to take. You warily plucked it out of his hand.

In a different context, it would’ve been sweet or even romantic, but you knew Akashi ticked a different tune.

“I do hope that you will continue to stay and become even more efficient with your work.”

You gazed at the rose at your hand, confused, as Akashi started walking back out, heading for the door.

You gasped.

“... Did you overhear our conversations the other day in the hallway?”

He chuckled.

“I know the future, because I am absolute.”

“Bastard.” You clicked your tongue, turning to Akashi. “You knew the entire time?”

“Shogi is easily applied to every aspect of life. Move the correct pieces and you will always win.”

You turned back around to avoid letting Akashi see you in an embarrassed state. He played you like an absolute fiddle.

You scowled, and you were about to cross your arms in defiance until the sunlight from the window cascaded on something where your “note” used to be.

“Akashi, what’s that on your desk?” You tentatively walked up to the table to see a stainless glass vase with a single dark burgundy dahlia resting daintily against the inner rim.

His hand was on the doorknob before he turned back to face you.

“Dahliang,” his tone of voice light, almost mockingly saccharine. “Do be careful from now on.”

He left.

Day 6 Results: he completely destroyed you at your own game and sealed the final nail to your coffin with a pun.

---------

End Note: Black dahlias (which are actually dark burgundy in color) symbolize signs of warning, betrayal, and other negative emotions.

#knb #knb x reader #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi scenarios #kuroko no basket #kotaro hayama #hayama kotarou #reo mibuchi #nebuya eikichi #rakuzan #knb scenarios #punfest series #bokushi #boku-akashi #ore-akashi

145 notes · View notes

tricktster · 5 years

Text

Honestly, I cannot say enough about my german study abroad program, in no small part because the people i met through it were the wildest bunch i have ever met. We had:

Me, a cursed American stumbling through increasingly unlikely and unfortunate situations, including:

getting arrested and hauled off in a cop car for the serious crime of not transcribing the five digit number printed on the back of my bus ticket onto the front of my bus ticket

slipping on dog poop on a crowded street while running late for class (leading a number of tourists to run over and photograph me in my undignified heap on the cobblestones) only to suffer one final indignity when i had to leave my poop shoe out in the hall outside the classroom, and subsequently discovered after class that it had been (correctly) identified as garbage by the custodian, and had been disposed of

spending the entire month of November with essentially no money after a bank error caused me to be cut off from my US checking account, thereby forcing me to figure out how to survive by my wits alone in a series of schemes, cons, and 1€ sausages

burning my thumb so badly on an oven in an attempt to make the world’s worst stuffing for the world’s saddest expat thanksgiving that my friends all had an intervention where they gave me a single black glove to wear because it was grossing them all out.

Enough about me. There were also my closest friends:

L , a horrendously wealthy New Englander who would drop lines in her stories like “so we were all smoking opium in my parents library,” and, “so every time my room gets too dirty, i just move to the next one down until the whole wing is filthy.” In spite of everything I’ve just said, she was also a genuinely good and incredibly fearless person who would throw fists without hesitation if she thought anyone was insulting her friends. She had a weird sexual relationship with her obscenely wealthy family friend in Frankfurt, which the rest of us suspected maybe been part of a business deal that their parents arranged at birth. It was better than Game of Thrones, honestly.

Y, a four foot tall Puerto Rican that I met when we were both walking down the street kind of near each other and some wild impulse called me to say to her, without so much as an introduction, “Yeah, you walk pretty cool, but if you wanna walk REAL cool, you gotta do it like thissssss,” while kinda lunging around. Just as inexplicably, she chose to continue talking to me, and several months later the two of us ended up making a harrowing 2:00 am escape from the private bar of a frat house that we had suddenly noticed had an awful lot of Nazi memorabilia on the walls for a frat located in a country that had criminalized the display of Nazi symbols. “Why are you leaving?” The frat-nazis complained as we bolted. “You will come back tomorrow afternoon for the barbecue, ja?” “Ahahhahaha nein fucking way, motherfucker,” Y muttered under her breath as we smiled and nodded politely all the way out the private garden, through the enormous iron gates, and out into the night. Once we were in the clear, we stared at each other, shaken, until Y broke the silence. “Welp. Those guys were Nazis. That actually just happened. I can’t.... man, I dunno, i’m still processing, let’s just go get some fucking falafel.”

We did.

S, the Australian, who one time invited me over to her apartment, opened the fridge, grabbed a plate of cheese, shoved it under my nose while going “HERE SMELL THIS!” and while i lurched away, gagging, cheerfully added “IT’S REALLY FOUL, RIGHT? ONE OF THE WOST THINGS I’VE EVER SMELLED!!” She was also absolutely obsessed with High School Musical, and was very disappointed every time the Americans shattered one of her illusions about the US public school system.

K, the girl from New Zealand, who had broken up with her serious boyfriend shortly before leaving for Germany, causing her to mourn his loss every time she got drunk by describing his penis with increasingly strange metaphors, such as “like a big wax candle but part of it’s gone,” and “like one leg off a spider.”

So, i had a pretty solid crew of five big weirdos. But there were, naturally, more people than the five of us in our program. For example:

R, from Minnesota, who dressed like she was about 72 and glared at anyone who was laughing too loudly near her because “i just don’t think jokes are funny.” More importantly, she would post facebook videos of herself reciting, entirely sincerely and in a steady monotone, the worst fucking poems that I have ever heard. She posted them under a pen name that was along the same lines as “the lyrical falcon.” She was in a feud with not one but two poetry clubs at her christian college, and while she never admitted this, all evidence suggested that it was because they both kicked her out. She was the Tommy Wisseau of poems. They were so bad they looped back around to good. Also, one time on the train she told me that she liked to think that she was a very good kisser because she played the french horn so she had strong mouth muscles. when i finally recovered from the mortal blow that she just delivered my soul, I asked her if she blew into people when she kissed them, and she got so insulted that she blocked me from her facebook poetry page. let me back in, R. please, if you’re reading this, let me back in.

They’re good poems, R.

Zoolander, from Pennsylvania, who was so, so handsome, but so, so, so dumb. One time he told me about this dream he had, and it was just an entire episode of Dexter’s lab. No changes or anything, he just... dreamed that he was watching that episode, and then the whole thing played in his head until it was done. He said it was the best dream he’d ever had. I once watched him pick up the same coin off the street four times because he couldn’t figure out that his pocket had a hole in it. When he noticed me, he said excitedly “Somebody left money everywhere!”

Juan, who constantly confused all the kids from Spain who went up to talk to him in their native tongue, only to discover that he was a very sarcastic man from Liverpool who didn’t speak a word of Spanish and was sick of everyone trying to bond with him. He only liked the Americans, because that’s where the tv show Family Guy was from, and only the Americans liked him, because we tend to like surly british assholes for basically no reason. At the end of the program while we were all saying our goodbyes, he came up to me, looking really upset. “I can’t believe it,” He said, uncharacteristically serious. “I can’t believe it’s all over and i’ll never...�� He looked like he was about to cry.

“Oh, dude, we can keep in touch on facebook or something?” I fumbled. He blinked.

“What? No, no, ugh, it’s just the last day of the program and I’ve LOST MY FOOKIN SCARF!” he roared.

God, I know this is weird, but I still really miss that guy.

The Croatian: There was a dude from Croatia in my apartment building who outright refused to tell me his name, because, “It’s an embarrassing word in English. You’d laugh.” I badgered him for five months, until finally, his defenses down, after many earnest promises that no matter what his name was, I would not laugh, he relented.

“My name is Tin.” He said sheepishly.

His name was fucking Tin.

Beardy, Beardo, Redbeard, and Weirdbeard: four drastically different young men from all across our beautiful planet who had one thing in common: thinking that they’d try out a beard while they were abroad. We always admired them from a distance, and compared their beards’ various unique and bad properties, until one day Beardy (who was australian and had developed a sort of flesh colored goatee) walked up to S, his countryman, in a club. “DO YOU WANT TO DANCE?” he yelled, trying to get her attention, but she was in a dance-off with K, and didn’t notice, so he tapped her shoulder. She whirled around, startled, and upon recognizing him, said without thinking, “OH, HI BEARDY!”

The song faded out.

Beardy stared at S.

“...Did you just call me ‘Beardy?’” he asked quietly. S looked like a deer in the headlights. She glanced towards me, hoping for an out, but I, dear reader, was laughing too hard to be of any use.

“You did,” he went on, “you called me ‘Beardy!’ Why!?”

“Cuz of your beard, probably. That’s a better name for you than Josh.” Zoolander interjected from out of nowhere, strolling out of the club, a beautiful woman on each arm.

“My name isn’t Josh...” Beardy tried to call after him.

“Who’s name isn’t Josh? Oh! Beardy!” A drunk K could be heard deducing from the back of the room.

He shaved it a week later, but the damage was done. He was Beardy for the rest of the semester.

When I look back on that period of my life now, I can’t help but reflect - with the clarity one only gets from experience - that my time in Germany was not as weird as I thought it was at the time. I lacked the perspective to see that it was all, actually, absolutely bonkers batshit nuts. It was some sitcom shit.

All in all, I highly recommend it.

859 notes · View notes

theveryworstthing · 5 years

Photo

Pictured: three blooming Luna Mandrakes.

Field Notes: Fruit Bats

From my experience you suddenly know exactly what’s happening when you see the Blooming begin but you don’t really care about it more than any other seasonal marker. It happens every year to specific people and for some reason it just slips your mind when the physical signs are less obvious. It’s just the way things are. One of the natural mysteries here that no one really thinks about but that we all reflexively keep from outsiders.

Maybe it’s the smell that triggers the return of memories? During the day you’ll start to get tiny whiffs of their musty fruity aroma if you stand too close to the Luna Mandrakes. Not that most people stand especially close once they remember what they are, but in some cases it’s unavoidable (or just rude) to keep your distance. They’re a part of the community after all. They’re the soft spoken neighbor who lives in the house where grass grows up through the floorboards. The kind butcher who’s bare feet are always caked in blood and dirt. The school janitor who stared at the sun, eyes unaffected by the glare, every lunch break when I was in high school and told us stories about the founding of the tribe that settled here before this town was built. Every spring they and others like them go about their lives as the days grow warmer and their skin grows paler and nobody mentions the way they gently scratch at their too-long necks when the the time to bloom grows near.

The process has always reminded me of those time lapse videos of seeds sprouting. For some the buds bubble up through their flesh and squeeze cascading blossoms through the widening pores that begin to honeycomb their throats. You can even hear the thin protective membranes that re-form every morning pop open under the pressure if you’re nearby during their evening transformations. For others the flowers don’t wait for an opening to spring from, instead their skin simply twists and puffs itself into fat white knots that always reminded me of oiled balls of dough. By day they hang heavy from the knobbly stem formed from spines shrink-wrapped in velvety white skin. At sundown the buds begin to split and separate, until they eventually fan out into dramatic manes of thick white petals. The flowers themselves come in different sizes and configurations, but they all finish their evening blossoming by unfurling blood-red clusters of pistols and stamens that pulse like gentle heartbeats. Personally I find them all breathtakingly beautiful in that gross way that nature is beautiful. Almost makes me wish I had studied botany instead of biology.

How do I always forget that they aren’t human?

How does anyone ever forget?

I’ve always felt like I should be terrified by the cycle of forgetting and remembering and maybe if I hadn’t been born here I would be. It could just be that my endless curiosity about the ecosystem around my home trumps the fear. Or I’m just weird inside. Probably a mix of the three. I don’t even think I’m supposed to notice that I should be upset by it. No one else feels the same way.

No one else gets anxious around the bats either.

I think they’re harmless, I’ve been told all my life that they’re harmless, and I tell every classroom of children I visit that they’re harmless. They show up every year right as the Luna Mandrakes start blooming to feed on their nectar and in turn, pollinate them. Just like regular bats. Regular bats that are large enough that their combined wings of their relatively small population completely black out the sky for at least ten minutes every evening, the sight of which has always given me such a rush of smothering claustrophobia that witnessing and recording the the spectacle for my research leaves me shaking and lightheaded. Regular bats that only thrive in a neighborhood on the south side of the city with the densest population of Luna Mandrakes, where harsh restrictions and curfews send any human on the streets at night without a botanical license straight to jail for encroaching on the habitat of a protected endangered species. Regular bats that my mentors and I, even with our exhaustively thorough paperwork are only allowed to observe through field cameras in approved locations or by studying the occasional disfigured body found at the edge of the desert.

Regular bats that I finally saw alive and up close last night when I grabbed a burner phone and slipped out of my apartment with a fake botanical license and the promising seeds of a future panic attack.

So.

Right off the bat (no pun intended) something is wrong with the cameras we’re using.

Something about them is distorting the images into visions of creatures both more bestial and less monstrous than the bats I saw attending the lavish night market that has apparently existed here for god knows how long. Draped in finery and walking upright with ease they wandered the streets freely, stopping ever so often to converse with each other in a language I couldn’t understand or flitting from one open door or window to the next. I peeked inside one dimly lit bar and found it converted into a sort of small theater where a few bats munching on mealworms crowded around a huge flat screen tv and a human woman with a lanyard matching my forged one flipped through movies on Netflix and described each one in detail, pausing between summaries to gauge the half hearted chirps coming from her audience before moving on. Next door a supposedly closed for renovations bed and breakfast was transformed into a makeshift spa where human attendants rubbed shimmering oils into the sprawled out wings of bats being meticulously groomed by other bats with white beads braided into their fur. In the open garage of a closed auto shop yet more bats sat around watching chickens in a makeshift pen. The chickens weren’t fighting, in fact I think they were both hens? At one point a bat reached down to pet one before being aggressively clucked at and recoiling back to their seat. I still have no idea what the point was with that one.

I should have taken pictures. I mean I’m glad I didn’t because I drew enough attention to myself without snapping Polaroids like a tourist every five seconds but I have a feeling once I get some sleep this is all going to feel much less real and I’ll forget important details before I can get some solid sketches of the bats done. I wish I could draw right now but I’m still too jittery.

Also I am procrastinating because writing out my thoughts about chickens and giant bats trying to agree on if they were in the mood to watch Spice World means I can avoid talking about the Luna Mandrakes.

As I said before, this area of the city is where most of the Mandrakes lived. I was confused at first because I saw so few out on the streets where the bats mingled but the ones that I did see looked…off. They were all bare foot and either wore off the shoulder garments or went topless, probably to comfortably make room for their floral manes. Angel hair thin tendrils of flesh peeled away from their ankles every time their feet touched the ground for more than a few seconds and gently prodded the sidewalk beneath them until they continued walking. Their half-lidded eyes had a reflective sheen to them in the glow of the street lamps and they rarely blinked as their focus darted back and forth from the market wonders to the bats that watched them with open curiosity or kept pace just steps behind them. They moved like they were swimming through warm molasses. Smooth and purposeful, but easily too slow to lose their admirers. It gave them a kind of floaty quality that would have been quite elegant if not for the fact that their hands seemed to be just out of sync with the slow down, flexing and fidgeting as if untethered from the strange spell the rest of their bodies were under.

I followed one of the plants deeper into the residential area and watched them disappear into a darkened home. I was too afraid to join their entourage inside, but I did decide to look at some the houses with less traffic. Even with fewer bats or human officials to potentially discover my ruse, the Mandrakes’ homes were eerie enough to give myself a three house limit on investigations before I turned around and made my way back.

I made it to one.

It was a small house tucked away on a dead end street, totally unremarkable outside of a couple of trees and bushes out front that shielded much of it from view and the fact that the door was open but the windows were all shut. I should have left when I heard the guitar from just inside the dark entryway, but I didn’t. Mostly because the high of curiosity and the possibility of catching a giant man-bat monster thing maybe having a chill jam session overpowered my common sense. Instead I followed the meandering melody down the hall and tried to dodge the sticky sections of the wall that coated the hand I used to guide myself in the dark with what felt like watered down syrup. I followed it all the way to a slightly open door in the hallway where the moonlight through the windows was more than enough to make out the carpet of red stained petals I had been walking on.

There were at least five bodies on the floor of that room.

Whatever did it had torn through the blossom manes of the Mandrakes, leaving their heads barely attached by strands of viscera to chests that seemed to have been crushed and gnawed on by some massive creature. All evidence pointed to them being dead but those who had them still slowly followed me as best they could with their cloudy eyes.

I took a step inside and tried not to meet their gazes as I tried to mentally process the destruction. Besides a few thin smears and splatters there was surprisingly little blood at the scene. Or maybe it was all nectar. I feel like my clothes stink of both now. I also think I’m probably dangerously deep in shock because my first move upon getting home from such a scene was to write it all down instead of sitting in the shower and screaming for days, which seems much more up my ally when it comes to finding a room full of corpses that track you with their eyes but that’s neither here nor there.

The Mandrake with the guitar sat in a chair by the window, clearly also a victim of whatever mauled the others but mostly intact and still breathing fairly easily. He didn’t respond to my intrusion, I don’t think he even knew I was there. The tendrils around his ankles had rooted him in place, threading themselves into the rug at his feet and winding around similar limp and blackening tendrils branching from the fallen bodies nearby. He played as if in a daze and I debated on whether I should try to get his attention or simply haul him out of there before whatever did this came back to finish the job.

This dilemma is probably what distracted me from the footsteps until I felt the clawed hand gripping my shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” The bat said in a deep feminine voice. Their tone was light and neutral as if merely giving me a friendly reminder, but they extended their wings just enough to block my exits while long red fingers reached for my lanyard. I felt just as rooted as the Mandrake while it turned my fake id back and forth in the moonlight, purring to themselves in an inquisitive tone before eventually smiling and setting the piece of plastic back against my chest with a little pat. Their hand came back up to my shoulder and paused for a second before sliding up to grip my collar bone and smearing something warm and wet against my throat with a clawed thumb.

“You are not,” they said, quieter now as they leaned down and forced me to stare into their giant brown eyes for what felt like hours, “supposed to be here.”

I nodded.

And then they just…let me go.

They strode past me into the room, sparing the other bodies only a glance as they headed for the Mandrake with the guitar. I only stayed long enough to watch them gently brush the dark brown curls out of his eyes before my body’s flight response finally kicked in and I bolted.

And now I’m home. I kept calm and got past the barricades like I was supposed to. I discovered that a species I thought I knew all my life has a secret society that mirrors our own which brings us up to two sapient non-human species living alongside us that the rest of the world has no idea about. My plan totally worked despite the fact that it totally shouldn’t have. And I’m not sure if any of that matters because to be honest I have no idea what to do with this information. What I do know is that I got a news alert on my phone about an hour ago when a home on the south side of the city was destroyed in an electrical fire that claimed the lives of the five people inside before firefighters could arrive and thankfully extinguish the blaze.

No word on a sixth body.

No word about any dangerous creatures on the loose.

And I can’t even focus on the implications of these new mysteries because all I can think about is the shadowy courtyard just outside my apartment where I swear I’ve spotted a tall dark figure with nectar-stained hands at least twice now. I don’t think they can do closed doors and windows but mine are all locked and bolted just the same. All I can do is wait.

Forty-five minutes until sunrise.

over on patreon Shannon Leigh Legler asked for 'big fat flowers', Sabrina Gross asked for 'cute girls of any kind', and he_walks asked for 'April showers bring May flowers.....but what else do they bring?'. the first two prompts inspired the sketches and the last prompt plus the sketches inspired the short story :)

#mandrake #luna mandrake #bat #vampire #body horror #bare chest #long post

905 notes · View notes

hopes4gf · 3 years

Text

Wings of Fire ( A MHA Fanfic): The Surge

Villains enter the scene and we all gear up for battle.

They all surround us and we engage in fight mode.

”Wanna test out Midoriya’s theory?” I ask Shoto.

”Now or never, sis,” Shoto agrees.

Me and him stand back to back and we use both sides of our power to blast the villains back. I use my blue flame to surround and circle the villains meanwhile Shoto uses his ice to bind them.

“Nice flames, Aki, you're practically doing my job for me,” Shoto says, building ice walls.

”Watch out for those big guys, Sho!” I shout catching his attention.

”You scared to lose to kids? Your adults, put up a fight, damn it!” Shoto says to the villains.

Before they can attack Shoto, I trap them in an ability with my fire called Hell Ring, where the flames form a ring around my opponent and slowly close in on them.

Bakugo is on the other side of the room with a villain pinned to the floor by his grip.

”You move and I’ll blast you ass so bad, that they’ll be piecing you together for weeks,” Bakugo exclaims.

”Well, that’s not very heroic,” Kirishima says.

”All clear!” Shoto signals to them.

”Clear!” Kirishima says.

All Might finally shows up and recites his famous phrase and reminds us to go Plus Ultra.

The police show up and secure some of the villains.

We all go home for the day.

Before I can leave, a hand grips my wrist.

”Call me, loser,” Bakugo says, handing me slip of paper before returning to his group.

I stand there in shock and look at the paper.

”Kirishima convinced me to give you my number. Don’t keep me waiting,” The note reads, with his phone number underneath.

I smile to myself and put his number into my phone as I walk beside Shoto.

”You seem happy, what’s going on?” Shoto asks.

”Bakugo gave me his number,” I say.

”What?” Shoto says, stopping in his tracks.

”And he wants me to call him tonight,” I say with a smirk.

”Dad’s gonna kill you for this,” Shoto reminds.

”Dont think you’d not go down with me. I know about your little girlfriend too,” I say.

Shoto’s eyes widen in realization.

”S-she’s not my girlfriend...yet at least,” Shoto says nervously.

”Oh is she?” I ask sarcastically.

”Not a word,” Shoto says with a huff.

I laugh at my brother’s demeanor.

We make it home and find Dad sitting on the couch waiting for us.

This ought to be good...

”Shoto, Ayamaki, sit please,” Dad orders.

We drop our things and we sit in front of him.

”When I went to UA, there was an event where only the best students would battle against each other in a series of competitions demonstrating their quirks, I want you both to do it,” Dad says in a stern tone.

”You mean the sport’s festival?” Shoto asks.

”Correct. There, you will demonstrate your quirks in the best fashion. This will be your first public debut since the entrance exam. I’m constantly reminded everyday that you two represent what I do for that school. And I know the both of you will excel. These are the foundations of becoming the next number one and two heroes. And the next chapter of our legacy. Don’t mess this up,” Dad recalls.

We both nod in agreement and return to our routines.

As I greet Fuyumi, I turn behind me and see Dad sitting there, thinking and deliberating. It almost reminds me of what I try to do at lunch without Katsuki in my way.

Suddenly, a memory comes to mind.

One day, Dad decided to give me a lesson. A lesson on thinking before I act rather than using pure instinct.

”Analyze what’s ahead of you. Think about it’s shape, the way it moves, and if you look away for a single second. You’ll lose you target,” He used to say.

We went through endless trials that constantly winded me. My brother stood by the door the whole time, covering for my usual place. He would try and peek inside to see what he would do to me.

He would scream orders at me and grip my skin underneath his fiery grasp. Eventually, that day he finally cracked in front of me. Showed me his true colors.

He threw a knife at me. I missed.

He sliced my arm wide open and I had never seen so much blood in my life. He stared at me with those cold blue eyes of his. My enemy was ahead of me. His eyes had only one solid color in them. But I knew deep down, he painfully regretted his choice to train me. Because he told me.

Told me I wasn’t worthy of his advice. Told me I wasn’t as worthy as my brother. Told me I’d never make it.

And as he sits there, deliberating as he taught me once to. My scar starts to ache, remembering when he first drew that knife to my skin.

If I’m going to win. I’m not winning for him.

Suddenly, my mind switches the memory of my mother when I visited her in the hospital that one night. She told me to prove my father wrong.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do at the sports festival next week.

————————————————

The next day,

We all attempt to walk out of our classroom for lunch but are crowded by the other students in the hero courses who are interested in the festival.

”They’re scouting out the competition, idiots,” Bakugo says, slyly grabbing his things and pushing past our other classmates.

”Just like you would,” I comment.

He turns to me with a smirk on his face and winks.

“We’re the ones that defeated those villains. At least you know what a future pro looks like,” Bakugo says, scouting the crowd.

“Now, move it, extras,” Bakugo says sternly to the students.

”You walk around calling them extras just because you don’t know them!” Iida scolds.

Bakugo scoffs and pushes through the crowd.

“Bakugo, what’re you doing?” Kirishima asks.

”These people don’t matter, what’s important is that I beat them. Just ask Aki,” Bakugo says, then continuing through the crowd.

Later, we all head to the stadium to prepare for the events of the afternoon.

"Is there something going on between you and Bakugo?" Kirishima asks me.

"We've spoken a couple of times. I'm pretty sure you can already tell but he's competitive for a reason. He puts up a front because he's terrified as hell of losing. He'll never admit it personally but he uses it as a coping mechanism. He wants power so he does feel hopeless. If you're asking for my opinion, he does it because he knows what if feels like not to have power," I admit.

"I've definitely picked up on that, I don't think it's very manly to hide your fear. It should drive you to be better," Kirishima says, giving me his thoughts.

"Listen, you're one of his best friends, I can see that, if you wanna make him loosen up, be real with him. And help him actually say what's on his damn mind," I advise.

"Well that's one way to put it," Kirishima comments, recognizing my slight harshness.

"That's the only way to understand it when it comes to him," I say.

Soon, I join Shoto's side and we both look at the TV monitors, we both spot Dad sitting by All Might.

"Both of them are watching," He comments.

"What do you think will happen if we mess this up?" I ask.

"As long as one of us succeeds, I think we'll be fine," Shoto says.

"Obviously, it's you who'll succeed," I say sternly.

"You're probably right. Dad's really been pushing me lately," He says in a monotone.

My eyes soften. I realize that Shoto doesn't have a single ounce of emotion in his voice. Instead of acknowledging me, he's hyper-focused on what he'll do.

I close my eyes and walk away from him, he calls after me, but I ignore him.

He's gonna leave me. I sure as hell know it.

We all head to the entrance of the Festival, where Class 1A prepares to go out. Shoto gives me a concerned look and I glare at him. We all head out confidently, and we look around as we see several heroes and adoring fans in the crowd.

I spot Dad and All Might looking down at us, but Dad doesn't look me in eye, he stares beside me at Shoto. I scowl at move forward by Momo.

"What's got you all fired up?" She asks.

"My old man's in the crowd," I tell her sternly.

"Damn, I didn't know this was so important," Momo says.

"He wants us to join his hero agency. They do these festivals to scout for interns and sidekicks. My father has 38 sidekicks, he wants me and Sho as his 39th and 40th ones. Me and him decline every damn time, but it seems like he's getting even more desperate with time. Especially, with Shoto. Every one knows that he could care less about me," I say in a serious tone.

"What? But you're his daughter," Momo questions.

"But Shoto is his masterpiece," I say honestly.

"And you're not okay with that," Momo realizes.

At this point I'm at the verge of crying in front of all my classmates. I wish I could tell them all about how I feel, but with my dad staring down at me, I can't risk it.

I choke back own tears and settle my focus ahead, where Midnight stands at a podium.

"Welcome to the annual UA Sports Festival!" Midnight announces.

My mind starts to wander, thinking about the pressure placed upon us. My dad looking to me and Shoto as his future legacy, Shoto kicking me aside, my classmates questioning my relationship with Bakugo, Bakugo getting curious about my family, my friends and their praise of my quirk, all this pressure is boiling over. This is the breaking point.

Midnight asks if any classmate would like to share any words, before any of us can go up, Bakugo walks forward.

He taps the mic to check it.

"U-um, all I'm gonna say is...I'm gonna win," Bakugo says calmly.

"I knew he was gonna say something stupid like that!" All of Class 1A says including me.

The crowd boos at him and I see from the corner of my eye that Dad narrows his eyes.

Soon, the first challenge is presented and we all start to team up in groups.

"Icy-Hot, get your ass over here," Bakugo calls.

"Aki, I need one last member on my team," Shoto calls.

I narrow my eyes at Shoto.

"If I'm going to be anything to you, it's certainly not last," I spit at him, huffing and walking towards Bakugo.

"Family drama, eh?" Bakugo asks with a smirk.

"I've been ready to beat that son of bitch since the entrance exam," I say, cracking knuckles.

"That's the spirit!" Bakugo agrees confidently.

Kirishima, Mina, Sero and I hoist up Bakugoso he can capture our teams headband points. Kirishima stands at the front using his hardness quirk to protect and me and Mina stand on his sides, using our quirks to defend and Sero stand at the back to defend the rear.

The battle begins and I use my ice quirk to shoot icicle daggers at the headband, they come back to us like boomerangs and Bakugo captures them.

"Nice shot, hot stuff!" Bakugo compliments.

"I'll keep 'em coming!" I say in return.

Bakugo smirks and leaps towards Midoriya whose in the air.

"God damn it, Katsuki!" I yell.

Present Mic catches on, announcing his departure to the crowd.

Sero uses his tape to bring him back but his headband is stolen.

"Kirishima...change of plans...lets kill all these guys!" Bakugo says in a low growl.

Before we know, Kaminari uses his electricity to create smoke, through the smoke I see Shoto freeze the ground completely, I use my Hell Ring to protect the group, fighting back.

"Let's go!" Bakugo says.

"Seriously, we're counting on you!" Kirishima says.

"Die!" Bakugo exclaims, charging up his explosions.

A blonde bowl haired guy copies Kirishima's hardening to dodge Bakugo's explosions.

From the corner of my eye, I see Iida blazing past Midoriya, capturing his headbands, leaving him with zero points.

Bakugo leaps towards the blonde kid again and grabs his headbands, leaping us to third place.

"Bakugo! Don't act on your own!" Kirishima advises.

"We have to get third place, you idiots," Bakugo says, hitting Kirishima's head various times.

"Hit it, Icy-Hot!" Bakugo orders.

I create an ice platform pushing us forward and he accelerates it by using his explosions.

He grabs the blonde kid's last headband and we leap to second place.

I watch from the side as Todoroki dodges Midoriya's attack...

He used his fire quirk. For the first time since middle school. I bet that made Dad smile.

Bakugo leaps off once again towards my brother, trying to capture his headbands but...

"Times up!" Present Mic screams.

The crowd erupts, reacting to the challenge.

"Are you okay?" Me and Kirishima ask.

Bakugo only hits the ground beneath him as he's planted face first.

My brother leads first place succeeding me.

I help Bakugo off the floor and slap him.

"That's what you get for acting alone, you dumbass!" I yell.

"It's not my damn fault the time ran out!" Bakugo yells back at me.

"Guys, it's over now, you might wanna-" Kirishima starts.

"No! It's not over until we get first!" Me and Bakugo both yell at the same time.

We look at each other dumbfoundedly, both realizing we said the same thing at once.

We both look away and blush. Mina grabs my arm and we all walk to the inside of the arena.

As I stand in the waiting room, I think about Shoto and Dad's influence on him.

Is Dad the reason he's been distant? Why do they doubt me? I see Shoto and Midoriya slip away from the room and I follow them.

When I reach their destination, I realize I'm not alone.

"What're you doing here?!" Me and Bakugo both whisper yell.

"I'm going to see my brother, frankly, what are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm going to see Deku, now shut up so I can hear," Bakugo says.

He towers above me as we both eavesdrop.

"Are you All Might's secret love child or something?" Shoto asks.

I snicker softly at my brother's question and Bakugo kicks my ankles to shut me up.

"Endeavor's my old man. If you are, that makes you more of my enemy. Since he couldn't surpass All Might, he moved on to his next plan. I'm sure you know what Quirk Marriage is," Shoto starts.

My eyes widen. I feel the air grow thick in my lungs and my eyes water. Why is he saying this? Why is Bakugo listening?

"Forcing people into marriage. He won over my mother's relatives and got ahold of my mother's quirk. I will beat you using only my right side. My mother's quirk," Shoto says, starting to walk away.

"I'll beat you too," Midoriya says, emotion building in his voice.

I look at Bakugo and see his eyes soften.

Mom told him. Mom finally told him the truth.

What I wanted to say to Bakugo finally came out. Before Bakugo can turn to face me, I bolt. Tears stream down my eyes as I run. Running as fast as I can past all the doors and hallways. I find an empty room and light a chair on fire. I scream and sob, breaking everything in sight.

"Fucking asshole! You damn idiot!" I scream.

I drop to my knees and sob. The once locked door is kicked open. I don't look up until i feel arms wrapped around me.

"Shh, it's fine," Bakugo says softly in my ear, cooing me.

I cry deeply into his chest as memories rush through my head. The memory of hearing mom's screams, seeing Shoto's scars. Touya leaving. Natsu's depression. Dad training me. Every moment of agony and heart break rushing through me. Each one more painful than the last.

"Get away from me!" I say, trying to get Bakugo off of me.

"Aki," Bakugo says.

I look up and see Bakugo's crimson eyes staring back at me. His eyes are sincere for the first name. The sound of my name coming from his mouth rings in my ear.

He said my name.

No nicknames, no jokes, just...my name.

"That's what you wanted to tell me. That one day in the classroom. That your father was a damn scumbag for doing what he did to your mother," Bakugo says.

"I didn't want to say anything because I knew you'd lash out at me, saying that your nothing compared to what he did," I say, choking through tears.

"Why would I lash out at you for that? The only reason I stuck with your ass is because I knew you were lonely. And I guess I just saw how shitty your brother treats you. If anything he's like that scumbag for treating you like you're invisible," Bakugo admits.

This guy is spilling out my emotions like he's reading my mind. Someone who I thought to be rash and destructive is...caring and calm.

"I usually don't do this sort of thing but, I guess you're someone I actually gave a damn about," Bakugo says.

I sniffle and he wipes my tears away from my cheeks.

"You good now? Bakugo asks.

"I'll be fine. I just need to take my mind off a few things," I say, getting up.

Bakugo blushes as he hesitates on his words.

"If you need anything, just ask me," He mutters.

I smile as I continue to wipe stray tears. I kiss his cheek catching him off guard.

"Thanks for that, by the way," I say, leaving him alone in the room as I walk down the halls.

I stop suddenly as something catches my eye. I feel my breathing slow down as I see my father standing there, speaking with All Might. Suddenly, his gaze meets mine.

I continue down the halls, rejoining my classmates, disregarding the view of my father.

I rejoin my group and notice that Shoto isn't back yet. He's probably searching for my father.

"Oi! Todoroki, you good?" Mina ask from across the room.

"Yeah, I'm okay now. Just trying to cool down," I say to Mina as I stride over to the group of girls.

"The boys tipped us off during lunch that there's a cheer competition," Jiro says.

I smirk as the idea peeks my interest.

"Bet. I'll join the group. But I have a couple requests if we wanna win," I say.

Later, we head out to the arena for our performance and the crowd swoons. Momo stands at my side as we get into formation. I look to the stands and see my Dad return with All Might, his eyes widen as he spots me shaking my pompoms.

I then look at the boys who are now waiting in the stands. I watch as our group's jaws drop, me and Mina wave at them and they all blush. Especially Katsuki.

Our music hits and we start strong. The crowd goes insane at our professional demeanor. Dad watches confused by my sudden interest in dance. The thing is, I secretly joined dance team in middle school to get away from my toxic household. That was my only coping mechanism up until now. Me and Mina decided to throw together some choreography mixed with improv to wow the crowd since Mina also has the same passion.

My gaze then focuses of Katsuki as I move with the music. Katsuki stares at me like I have two heads as I roll my body, not caring who sees.

The fact that I was just throwing things and crying baffles me. I think that's why he's so shocked at my performance. Soon, it ends and the crowd loves it! We go back into the arena and the others girls praise us for our work.

"That choreo was amazing girls!" Midnight says, complimenting us.

We change back to our PE uniforms and split into our semi-final groups.

"Did you see the look on Denki's face?" Mina asks as we walk through the halls.

"I was actually shocked by Katsuki," I mention. We both stop and hide as we see my father talking to my brother in the hallway.

"Is that your dad?" Mina asks.

"Yeah," I say nervously.

"Should I leave you here?" Mina asks nervously.

"Maybe," I say, trying to listen.

"You're acting disgracefully, Shoto. Maybe even worse than your sister," Dad says sternly as usual.

My eyes narrow. HE is being worse than ME? This old man got his twins twisted.

Shoto walks past him and heads towards my direction.

"Aki, let's go," he says before turning the corner.

I shrivel up and scurry behind him.

I look over my shoulder and see Dad him standing at the end of the hall with that familiar glare on his face.

These rounds better be interesting because Dad might just bust our chops if one of us doesn't win.

#bnha bakugou #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha oc #bnha fanfiction #bnha manga spoilers #bnha imagines #bnha hawks #wingsoffire

1 note · View note

woodelf68 · 7 years

Text

Best Beloveds

Prompt for @a-monthly-rumbelling: Bad day, drinks, cuddling. Rated G, 2073 words.

“Hey. How’s Gideon?” Gold leaned in to kiss Belle. It was strange not to be greeted by the patter of small feet running to greet him when he got home from work. He missed it. He glanced further into the house, where he could hear the sound of a cartoon playing on the TV.

“He only threw up once more after we got home from school, and it wasn’t very much. I think it was just something he ate.” Belle looked guilty. “I knew that lunchmeat was starting to smell a bit off, but Gideon said it smelled fine to him.”

“Well, no harm done if that’s all it was. Did you throw the rest out?”

“I used it up on his sandwich. So yeah, it’s gone. He’s kept down some ginger ale and crackers, and I’ve got some Jell-o chilling in the fridge. He’s upset about Parsley, though.”

“Parsley?” Gold looked blank for a moment before remembering that was the name of the first grade classroom’s guinea pig. “Ah, this was supposed to his weekend to bring her home, wasn’t it?” Gideon had been looking forward to it all week.

Belle nodded. “He didn’t think about it until he started feeling better and the school had already closed for the day, so I couldn’t call and ask about her. He’s afraid she’s still sitting there in the classroom with no one to look after her over the weekend. I told him the teacher probably let the next child in line take her this weekend, and he would get the next, but he’s still worried.”

Of course he was. Gideon loved animals fiercely, and when he’d found a mud-covered stray on the way home from school earlier in the year, there had only been one possible outcome. Going into the living room, Gold saw the white-and-brown Jack Russell Terrier curled up loyally besides the little boy ensconced on the sofa with a coloring book and crayons. Gideon was half-heartedly filling in a picture, glancing between it and the TV.

“Hey, Gideon. Heard you had a rough day.” Gold picked up Jack (it had seemed like a perfectly reasonable name to Gideon once he had been informed of the breed) and moved him so that he could sit down next to his son. Jack promptly scrambled back over Gold’s lap and wedged himself in between Gideon and the arm of the couch, the boy automatically putting an arm around him.

“Hi, Papa,” Gideon said forlornly. “I was sick in school. All over my desk.”

“That’s no fun. But you’re feeling better now, yes?”

“I guess. But this was supposed to be my weekend for taking Parsley home!”

“Wouldn’t you rather have her here when you’re feeling better?”

“But what if I’ve lost my turn and I never get the chance to have her?” Gideon protested. “What if they had to leave her at the school because I got sick? She’ll be all alone and scared and hungry!”

Belle came over and perched on the arm of the couch, stroking Gideon’s soft brown hair. “I’ve told you that Mrs. Benson wouldn’t leave her at the school more than overnight. She’s the one who takes Parsley home for the summer and for school holidays, you know.” She glanced at Gold. “Do you think Snow would have Mrs. Benson’s phone number? I think Gideon needs to hear from her that Parsley is all right.”

“She might, but I should have it myself. She’s one of my tenants; I’ll go check the rental agreement.” He got up and bent to press a kiss to Gideon’s head. “I’ll be right back; the papers are in my office.”

He returned in a few minutes with a scrap of paper on which he’d copied the number and sat back down next to Gideon, Gideon putting his colouring book and crayons down and climbing up onto his knees, leaning into his father’s shoulder with something of his usual animation returning. Gold put his left arm around Gideon’s waist to steady him and punched in the numbers.

“Mrs. Benson?...Yes, hello, this is Mr. Gold, Gideon’s father...yes, he’s doing better, we think it was just something he ate. The thing is, this was supposed to be the weekend he was supposed to bring Parsley home, and he’s worried about her...All right, hold on a second.” Gold took the phone away from his ear and hit a button. “You’re on speakerphone now.”

“Hi, Gideon, I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better,” came Mrs. Benson’s voice, and Gideon nearly bounced in place.

“Hi, Mrs. Benson! Where’s Parsley?”

“Kimmy was able to take her home this weekend. She was next on the list, and her parents were fine with Parsley paying a visit a week early. You can have her next weekend instead.”

“Yay!” Gideon cheered, his eyes sparkling once again.

“That was very thoughtful of you to be concerned about Parsley when you weren’t feeling well, Gideon. You’re one of her best caretakers, I know. You never even mind cleaning out her cage. You should be very proud of your son, Mr. Gold.”

Gold squeezed Gideon fondly. “I am.”

“We both are,” Belle agreed. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Benson; we’ll let you go now.”

“You’re welcome. Bye, Gideon; I hope you feel better soon!”

“Bye, Mrs. Benson!” Catching his master’s improved mood, Jack leapt to the ground and turned a circle, barking.

Belle laughed. “I can see that you’re feeling better already, Gideon.” She picked up the empty plastic cup with the straw on the end table. “Would you like some more ginger ale?”

“Yes, please,” he said promptly.

“How about you, Rumpel? Would you like a drink?” She headed back towards the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t say no to an iced tea.” Gold stood up and shed his coat and loosened his tie, pulling it off and laying it aside with his coat. “Do you need any help with dinner?”

“No, I’m all set.” Belle poured the two drinks. “Green beans are already washed and ready for the steamer, and the noodles can cook at the same time. And it’ll just take five minutes to grill up the pork chops when they’re nearly done. We can split Gideon’s, since he won’t be having it.”

“Can I have some noodles?” asked Gideon. He didn’t mind missing the green beans and pork chops, but he liked noodles.

“I’ll put aside a portion for you to have tomorrow if you don’t get sick again,” Belle promised. “Today you can have your Jell-o, and some broth and crackers, or toast and apple sauce.”

“Can I have the Jell-o first?” Gideon reached for the cup that his papa passed him. He’d shut the TV off; none of his favourite shows were on right now anyway.

“Yes, you may, as soon as the rest of dinner is ready.”

“Okay,” said Gideon agreeably. “Sit with me, Papa? Read me a story?”

“Speaking of stories,” Gold said with a secret smile, and went to his briefcase, opening it up to reveal a bag with a logo of a green frog wearing a yellow crown. “I brought you a present, since you got sick.”

“A new book?” Gideon asked excitedly. The Enchanted Frog was Storybrooke’s children’s store, and despite the many books that he checked out from the library, he loved having ones of his own that he didn’t have to return.

“A new book,” Gold confirmed, sitting back down beside his son and giving the bag to Gideon, watching as his little boy drew the book out.

“Just So Stories,” Gideon read, “By -- “ he hesitated. Ys were tricky; sometimes they were vowels and sometimes they were consonants. He took a guess. “-- Rudy-ard Kipling?”

“Rudyard,” Gold corrected. “Rudyard Kipling.”

A consonant this time, then. Gideon looked at the main picture on the front, of an elephant whose trunk was being tugged at by the snout of a crocodile surfacing from a river. “Are they all animal stories?” he asked hopefully.

“They are indeed. Would you like to hear one?”

“Yes, please.” Gideon passed him back the book and snuggled into his side, sipping contentedly on his ginger ale. Gold took a drink of his iced tea and then set it on the coffee table and leaned back, wrapping one arm around Gideon and opening the book to the first chapter.

“How The Whale Got His Throat,” Gold read. “In the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a whale, and he ate fishes.”

By the time the first timer in the kitchen went off, Gideon had migrated onto his lap, his head resting against Gold’s shoulder, a warm, solid, comforting weight, and they were just finishing ‘How the Camel Got His Hump’. Jack had dozed off on the cushion next to them, his furry body pressed close against Gold’s thigh. He cherished the moment, wondered how long it would be before Gideon outgrew lap cuddles.

“All right, time to wash up for dinner,” he said, closing the book. “And help your mother set the table. We can read more before bedtime.”

“Okay.” Gideon stirred and stretched, then scrambled down off the couch, bending over and hunching his back as he headed for the bathroom. “Humph,” he snorted. “Humph, humph.” Jack trotted after him.

Gold laughed and got up, finishing his drink and picking up Gideon’s cup and carrying them both into the kitchen, where Belle was draining the noodles into a colander. “I’ll be right back to help,” he promised. “Gotta make sure our young camel is washing his hands.” He met Gideon coming out of the bathroom.

“Hand inspection!” Gold said briskly.

Gideon promptly held out his hands with the confidence of a boy who has used soap, and Rumpel took them in his own, glancing at the nails and then sniffing both sides. “Hand inspection passed.” He saluted. “You may proceed to the kitchen.”

Gideon giggled and saluted back as he ran into the kitchen. “I’ll get Jack’s food.” He opened the pantry and opened the container that held the bag of dog food.

“All right, but no petting him; you’ve just washed your hands.” Gideon really was amazingly responsible when it came to looking after Jack; he rarely forgot to feed him before sitting down to dinner himself. Belle waited until he’d dumped the scooperful of food into Jack’s bowl and handed him the plate on which she’d just unmolded his cherry Jell-o. “Here you go, you can start with this if you like.”

Gideon took it to his place at the table, and climbed up onto his chair. Before long his parents had joined him, and, having confirmed that he wanted more, he had a bowl of broth and some goldfish crackers to move onto as he finished the Jell-o.

“Papa,” he asked, having been thinking. “Am I your Best Beloved?” He began carefully arranging a circle of goldfish around the edge of his soup bowl, nose to tail, until they met.

“You are indeed, didn’t you hear me say so?”

“But what about Mama?”

“She’s my Best Beloved too, you can have more than one of them.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Gideon looked relieved. “I was afraid I would have to choose. Can I have three?”

“Of course. Who’s the third?”

Gideon looked amazed that he had to ask. “Well, there’s you and Mama.” He looked down at the terrier who was at his usual place beside Gideon’s chair, having already polished off his own dinner and hoping for something to be dropped, either accidentally or on purpose. While Papa had discouraged feeding Jack anything at the table, saying it would teach him to beg for more and bother the people who hadn’t scarfed their food down in less than a minute, Gideon had bargained. Thus, the rule was now that Jack was allowed one piece of people food per meal, as long as it wasn’t on the list of things that weren’t safe for dogs that was attached to the fridge at Gideon’s eye-level. He had it memorised, but he still sometimes looked at it as he went past just in case he ever forgot anything. He knew crackers weren’t very good for dogs but green beans were. He stretched to grab one from the bowl and reached down to offer it to Jack, holding it out on his open palm. Jack took it gently with a “thank you” wag of his tail. Jack was a very polite dog.

“And Jack, of course.”

#a-monthly-rumbelling #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #gideon gold #ficwoodelf #gideon fic

61 notes · View notes

metalandmagi · 5 years

Text

February Media Madness!

Hello and welcome to “see how I wasted my time” the post where I keep track of all the media I consume in a month. If you’re new here, this is mainly just my excuse to shout into the void about my feelings on things I’ve watched or read in a month. And it’s almost been a year!

Movies!

Ocean’s 8: Sandra Bullock assembles a team of ladies to steal a super fancy diamond necklace. As someone who has never seen an Ocean’s movie before, I thought this was fun. I like heists, and I LOVE jewel heists. The characters are all great, not particularly deep, but they don’t have to be. And Anne Hathaway steals the show. However, there’s a glaring problem with this movie, and it’s the fact that everything seems ridiculously easy for them, taking away any sense of tension. There’s a lot of points where things should cause significant problems but...don’t. So if you stop asking questions and just go with it, it’s a good time. 7/10

Boku no Hero Academia- Two Heroes: It’s the BNHA version of Die Hard. Seriously, All Might and a bunch of other heroes and citizens are taken hostage by villains in a skyscraper, and the most popular characters from the UA class have to save them. And it’s good. Just like the show. I’ve never gotten hyped up for this series as much as everyone else seems to, but it’s enjoyable and the movie has more of the good action and fun characters! I did feel like it went on a little long, and I wish we had gotten more of the characters doing stuff on the island instead of mainly just the villain plot. I think it’s because it reminded me a lot of the vacation arc in Assassination Classroom. But whatever, it’s still fun and worth watching. 7/10

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: Awkward magizoologist Newt Scamander accidentally releases a bunch of magical creatures into 1920s New York and must round them all up with the help of lovable muggle/no-maj Jacob Kowalski. And there’s some horror movie type stuff going on with a creepy kid and Grindelwald in disguise. It’s the spin-off/prequel to Harry Potter that we all know and...love? I know some people resent this movie just for existing, but I like it. I like the creatures. I like going to new places in the wizarding world. I like Newt. I like Tina. I LOVE Queenie and Jacob, both separately and together. The plot is a little...stretched, but I don’t mind that much. And no one had the good sense to keep Colin Farrell as Grindelwald. However, I haven’t seen the second movie yet, so I should probably have my Harry Potter super fan card revoked. I honestly think that this could have been a fine stand alone movie or maybe a duology, where the second movie focuses on the backstory between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, and Grindelwald’s rise to power. I certainly don’t need five movies of this though, and I think everyone would rather see a prequel of Harry Potter’s parents in the marauders era instead. Oh well, I still like this movie for what it is. I just don’t need five of them. 7.5/10

How to Train Your Dragon 2: Five years after the viking village of Berk has accepted dragons instead of fighting them, a mysterious villain with a dragon army wants to...idk take over the world or something, so naturally it’s up to a wiry 20 year old Hiccup to stop the seemingly inevitable war. I love this movie, both as a sequel and a solid story in a trilogy. It has its issues, mainly the fact that it glorifies/glosses over absentee parents and its final act seems like it was hastily rewritten as a merchandising opportunity...but dang other than that I can’t really say anything bad about it. I’m even one of the few people who like the side characters. The time jump feels natural, and I liked seeing everything come together after watching the TV series. It also of course has great music, stunning animation, and a lot of heart and effort put into every minute. I alsothink this sequel has an interesting message about how different people view peace and war and whether or not people are capable of change. So yeah, this is one of those series that I think has something for everyone. 9/10

The Lego Movie 2- The Second Part: Five years after the first Lego movie ends with “aliens” invading, the Lego universe has become a post-apocalyptic society where everything is not awesome. And after another invasion, all the important characters except Emmet get kidnapped, and he has to save everyone from an...evil(?) queen. But really it’s a story about getting along and seeing things from other people’s perspectives. It’s fun, and it has incredibly creative music (and please for the sake of all that is good, watch the credits song). But there are times when I wished it wouldn’t lean so heavily on the...fourth wall breaking from the first movie. I felt like I would have completely understood what must be happening outside the Lego world to drive the plot, and then they would just cut to the human characters to explain everything. But it’s still a great time and hilarious as expected. 8/10

Books!

(To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before) P.S I Still Love You by Jenny Han: The second book in the To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before trilogy. It serves to give you a glimpse into Lara Jean and Peter’s life as a couple. It’s like a sweet slice of life anime where some notable things occur, like the hot tub video plot that was in the movie happens AND JOHN AMBROSE MCCLAREN SHOWS UP..but there’s no real plot. And that’s fine! This was a super fun read, just like the first one, and John Mcclaren is amazing. There’s really only one major problem I have with this book, and it’s Gen’s and Lara Jean’s relationship. Throughout the book LJ knows something bad is happening with Gen’s family. We know that Peter is still Gen’s friend and promised her he wouldn’t say anything, which is justifiable as something friends do! I wish we could have seen Peter trying to convince Gen to apologize or explain the situation to LJ, but it is what it is. However, we also know Gen did something truly terrible in posting the hot tub video, and literally nothing going on in her personal life or her past justifies her being a life ruining bitch just because she feels bad. So what I really wanted to see was LJ marching up to her and saying “I know you’re going through something, but you ruined my fucking life for no apparent reason, so I demand an apology and an explanation” like the boss she is. And, as anyone who watched the movie knows, Gen tries to be the martyr and gain sympathy by placing the blame on LJ because of something that happened in FREAKING MIDDLE SCHOOL! I cannot stress enough how out of line Gen’s character is, and no amount of hastily garnered sympathy or backstory reveals will make her better. But yeah other than that, it was very enjoyable. And if Lara Jean doesn’t want John Ambrose Mcclaren, then I’ll take him. 8/10

King of Scars by Leigh Bardugo: It’s the start of a new series in Bardugo’s “Grishaverse”. And yes you absolutely need to read both the Grisha Trilogy and the Six of Crows duology to read this. KoS centers around the now King Nikolai Lanstov who has been possessed by a monster created by the Darkling. Also Ravka is once again on the brink of war, Nikolai must think about getting married, and there’s a cult that wants the Darkling to made a saint. But actually, this book is split into three different stories: one following Nikolai and Zoya trying to get rid of the monster, one following Nina on a secret mission in Fjerda, and one following what's happening in Ravka while Nikolai is away. So basically, one part Nina being a badass, one part eldritch horror story, and one part The Prince and The Pauper. And it was pretty good...except for the fact that I understood almost none of Nikolai and Zoya’s story after the second half of the book. I wasn’t into the...saint business because it seemed so out of place for this series. I also feel like she missed out on some great characters meeting each other. Oh well, it’s still a great study in world building and character interactions, the ending is buck wild, and Nina continues to be a bisexual disaster...so it’s worth it. 8/10

The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis: Several decades before the Pevensies stepped through the wardrobe, young Digory Kirke (aka the Professor) and Polly Plummer are roped into a traumatizing adventure of their own. Only instead of saving Narnia, they accidentally release a younger but just as intimidating Jadis from her own dying world into London, and in an attempt to get her out of Earth, end up letting her loose in the newly created Narnia. This is probably the book with the most similarities to TLTWATW, with a truly terrifying villain, a winding but whimsical plot, and a lot of humor. Digory and Polly are the most well written children so far. They are both hilarious great characters in their own ways, and I love seeing them fight and make up like actual kids who are friends. While Digory has to go through his own redemption arc similarly to Edmund, Polly is always there as the voice of the audience telling him to not be a dumbass. Not to mention whenever he tries to get away with saying something sexist, she’s shuts him down like a badass. And there’s also a London cabby who literally tells Aslan that he’ll be king of Narnia if his awesome wife gets to come too...and there’s a horse named Strawberry that turns into a Pegasus. So what’s not to like? People may complain about all the religious metaphors and creationism, but come on lighten up. At least it’s not horribly racist, and you’ll long for the simple biblical similarities when you’re faced with the layers of religious offense in The Last Battle. 9/10

The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis (mild spoilers): The final book in the Chronicles of Narnia series, in which the world ends because a talking ape convinces a donkey to dress up as Aslan to trick all the Narnians into giving them stuff. There’s a lot more to this plot, but those are the basics. There is a TON of stuff to unpack in this epic conclusion, and this isn’t even the half of it.

This book seems like the Last Jedi for this series, in that some people are incredibly moved by it and are very happy with the conclusion our main characters have been given, and some people think it’s a pile of crap. I think there is good in this book. But, putting aside my good feelings for a second, THE LAST BATTLE IS ONE OF THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLY RACIST THINGS I’VE EVER READ...voluntarily anyway. Seriously, if you thought The Horse and His Boy was bad, you ain't seen nothing yet. There are many layers of why this particular plot in the series is so offensive I could write essays on why this book should be thrown out the window. Not to mention the Susan problem. So I'll say, that even though there were good things in this book, it doesn't excuse...everything else. Also Eustace isn’t as snarky in this one...I miss my sarcastic sass boy.

HOWEVER, unlike some people, I think it was exactly the conclusion that the series has been leading up to since the beginning. I think the plot of an imposter Aslan and the effect it would have on Narnians is cool. And much like the book of Revelation, the end of the world is weird, confusing, and dark as fuck considering this is a children’s book. He invokes an amazing sense of fear and sadness, considering we just saw the birth of Narnia in the last book. And I am one of the people who loved the last few pages. It was an interesting take on heaven, theology, and the questions of “is Aslan also Tash? Is one religion better? Are all gods the same?” are dealt with very well considering that was one of the most problematic aspects of the book. I love literally all the characters you can think of reuniting in the end...except for Susan. I will say, Susan no longer being a friend of Narnia was led up to throughout the other books, and I think what Polly says about her wanting to be grown up rings true...in a sense. What we really need is a new series for Susan where she becomes a friend of Narnia again and gets her happy ending, rather than just “oh look makeup, guess I can’t be in Narnia anymore.” AND YET Lewis finally abandoned the idea of “girls shouldn’t be fighting” and made Jill a super secret ninja spy/badass archer warrior woman. So...I can’t even say it’s as sexist as the other books. There’s also a male talking unicorn who is best friends with the current king...and it kind of seems like they have a thing for each other...so there’s that.

Some people are angry that it is so religiously based and the allegories are so in your face, but at this point if you're reading the Chronicles of Narnia and are upset that there's religion in it, I don't know what to tell you. Truthfully, I thought he did the allegory for the church controlling the population very well, and the idea judgement based on whether you actively hate Aslan instead of being about how you’re either a good or bad person was so cool and different. But honestly, I just don't know what to feel. I'm happy for the characters in the end...I liked the overall idea of this final book...but man it can be super uncomfortable to the point that I don’t even want to rate it.

TV Shows!

Kitten Rescuers: Why yes, it is the incredibly wholesome British TV show about the RSPCA going around and rescuing cats from bizarre and/or dangerous situations, like being stuck up chimneys or drain pipes. And yes, it is the purest thing you will ever watch, even with My Roommate is a Cat in the running as the best cat themed show of the year. I don’t care if it seems like a big commercial for the RSPCA sometimes, I just want to see some cute kittens get their happy endings. My only complaint is that there’s only 8 episodes on Netflix, and I’m desperate for more. 100 adorable feline friends/10

Re: Zero Starting Life in Another World: You know, the anime everyone lost their shit over in 2016? The isekai where the main protagonist keeps re-spawning every time he dies in the fantasy world he is magically transported to and does nothing but suffer? But hey it has those two twin maids with the pink and blue hair in it so it’s all fine? That one. The English dub finally released the second half of the show, so I finished it. AND YES THE DUB IS ACTUALLY GOOD! And the show is fine too. But I feel like I sort of...lost the gist of why everything was happening in those last 12 episodes. However, there was a lot to like about this series overall, and yes Rem truly is best girl. I was just more invested in the first half of the series. 8/10

Honorable Mentions

I watched Christopher Robin again...and I still love it.

I read the first volume of the Tsurune light novel. It’s fine, but I liked the anime better.

Shadowhunters is back for its final...half season?

I’m currently watching The Umbrella Academy, and it’s AMAZING! I can’t wait to finish it!

The Masked Singer (U.S version) has finally ended. And now there’s a trashy hole in my heart.

#long post #media madness #oceans 8 #bnha #boku no hero academia #fantastic beasts and where to find them #httyd #lego movie 2 #kitten rescuers #re zero #the chronicles of narnia #the magician's nephew #the last battle #ps i still love you #king of scars #grishaverse #how to train your dragon 2

0 notes

canaryatlaw · 7 years

Text

Today was pretty awesome. So small group sign ups for my church went live at 7:30 am and they always fill up really fast, so I set my alarm for 7:30 so I could do that and then go back to sleep until 9 when I had to get out of bed. Originally I thought I wasn't gonna be able to do one again because of all my night classes which I was sad about, but being that the mock trial team is heading to one of their competitions this week my Thursday nights will probably be empty now, so I managed to make one of the co-Ed groups work. It's not the one specifically labeled "20s and 30s unmarried" but there's also a whole other section for married couples, so hopefully not everyone in the group will already be dating? That's been my issue haha, everyone at my church is already dating someone, I swear. So my alarm goes off and I go to log onto it on my phone, but the damn page is down, probably because a ton of people tried to log onto it at once. I tried for like 7 more minutes before being like fuck it, I'm going back to sleep so when I woke back up at 9 I logged on again and snagged the last spot in the women's sign ups for that group (they separate it by gender to try and have a balanced number of both in each group) so that was good. Got ready, headed off to church and got there just a bit early, so I ran up to the nursery to make sure things were going alright. It was almost at the end of the 9:30 service at that point, and the 9:30 is always the busiest so I was a little worried about only having two people signed up, but apparently it was a first serve day which means there was a bunch of other people in there belong which was good. So then I went back downstairs and into the 11 o clock service, which it was really nice to be back in. I haven't actually been in the service since before Christmas break, so like a month now, which is just way too long (I just get too easily caught up in wanting to stay with the babies, lol, and then I was home for several weeks too). As I mentioned earlier my awesome pastor went out of his way to say how awesome he thought the women's March was and how he loved that many from our church participated, and very explicitly stated that "if you weren't aware, the church you're attending is not one that allows women to lead, it encourages women to lead." And I mean his wife is the co-lead pastor with him so they definitely live that out and oh my god it was so refreshing to hear something like that actually come from the pulpit. My parents themselves probably wouldn't have had a problem with those comments, but if they were said from the pulpit (or in any context) in their church there would be droves of angry churchgoers banging down the pastor's door and demanding his resignation (and I'm not even kidding). So it was really cool to be reminded just how different this church is and how it makes me feel that much more at home there. He also said that in addition to a full sanctuary we had filled up 4 overflow rooms this service, which is insane given that it's just one of then4 Sunday morning services they have. It's obviously booming and it's so full of young people in a time when all I hear about is young people leaving the church, so they're obviously doing something right. The service was about a passage in John where Jesus is taking about being the vine and God being the gardener, who cuts off branches that don't bear fruit and prunes those that do so they'll be more fruitful, which for a song from my crazy bible song childhood stuck in my head lol but it was good. After the service I headed back up to the sanctuary for the 12:30 service I was working. We ended up with 4 babies and there were two of us, so it was a good balance really. We initially had another girl but she hadn't made it to the service earlier so we told her she could go watch it instead. The baby composition was interesting, haha. There was a little girl, 6 mo the old, named like one of my favorite names that I want to name one of my daughters, and she was mostly complacent for the whole service, no crying so that was appreciated haha, she was cute. Then there was another little girl who was screaming bloody murder when her parents left and was totally inconsolable for a good 5 minutes before becoming distracted and deciding not to cry anymore, though for most of the time she just kind of sad there and wouldn't respond to anything we tried to get her interested in even though we knew she could understand us, lol. They had some bubbles this week though (in spill proof containers, of course) and that captivated most of their attention for a good chunk of the service. Then I finally got to see my tiny girl again, who I haven't seen in like 6 weeks so that made me happy and she's just so freaking cute I can't take it. She was again refusing to let me put her down, but was also like, getting upset when I'd go to play with another baby and pull her back to her haha and when I was trying to get the formerly crying little girl interested in some of the other stuff I would be like "can you go through that side and show her?" and kind of motion with my hands and she did exactly what I asked, when I'm not at all sure she knew what I was saying haha so I was impressed with that. And yeah, she was just typically adorable. She was calling me "mama" at various points, which is curious only if because I know she calls her mom "mommy." She doesn't really have a whole lot of speech right now, just a handful of words, so I was trying to encourage her to say "Rachel" but that tends to be a mouthful for babies just learning to talk, and my name usually gets designated a shorter version until the child can fully pronounce it (I know my little brother called me "shell" for a while, and my sister, inexplicably, called me "hatoo" for a solid six months) so I knew that probably wouldn't work. She also has this super cute habit of pointing some of the other kids and being like "baby!" even when they're like, older than her haha but she gets all sweet with the little babies and gah it's so cute. I'm trying to remember if she did anything else particularly cute, but be probably bored you all by this point so I'll move on. The fourth and final child in our care was a boy who was 23 months old, so about to move up to the toddler's classroom, and he was pretty big compared to the others. Strangely, he didn't cry when his parents left and was totally fine for the first half of the service, then just out of nowhere insisted on standing at the gate and looking out the door saying he wanted his momma and he just would not move, despite our many attempts at comforting/distracting (we did get him away a few times, but not for more than like 5 minutes before he would go back). He wasn't actually crying most of the time, but I would go up to him and try to comfort him and he'd just kind of collapse into my arms (it was so sweet) and cry a little and oh man, poor kid but it was really the sweetest thing. So I kept promising him his parents would be there real soon since there wasn't all that much else I could do. They did arrive soon enough, and I told them about how he was acting and his dad said he had gotten a really small amount of sleep last night (and that he was walking around Walgreens with him at 5:30 this morning trying to get him to fall asleep) and that would definitely do it, so hopefully it's just that because I know he's been in with us before with no problems. But yeah, most of it passed without a problem, which was a giant relief compared to last week's fiasco, the crying was kept to a minimum thankfully. Headed home and when I got here I knew I had to jump into my LARC assignment, which I had this feeling of dread about because LARC stresses me out like nothing else, and this was no exception. A big part of it was researching and finding cases to use, but it's not a terribly specific issue so there's a ton of cases to sort through, though very few of them are actually on point, so that was irritating. I spend a while searching through those and compiled a list of 5 because our prof said if we sent her 5 cases by midnight Sunday she would send us 5 back, so I got those in but then I didn't want to do anything on the case front until I get her answers because those will probably be the best cases to use. So I tried to do the other pieces, but kept getting caught up in the "legal writing" vs "LARC" problem. I'm good at legal writing, I do it all the time, but LARC is an extremely specific type of legal writing where every sentence has to service a specific purpose and there's no room for anything else and it's very difficult to make every case fit into that formula when not all cases were built for it. Plus in all likelihood it's not anything that would be required of us on that level in the real world, so it's not really worth much. I tried to write the pieces not involving the cases but kept getting caught up in the different pieces and what to put where that I eventually just got too frustrated and stopped. I have about 2 pages done, a little under 600 words, with a word limit of 1750, so it's a decent dent at least. I'm not happy about having to continue working on it during the week because during the week my time is very limited, but I can't do much else at this point until I get the cases back from my prof, so that will she to do for now. Sigh. I had set out some chicken to defrost in hopes of making a meal I could use for lunches/dinners throughout the week, so I grabbed one of the Campbell's skillet sauces, creamy Parmesan chicken, and I'm about to sound like an advertisement but holy fuck people, this stuff is so good and it's ridiculously easy. All you do is cook the chicken, at the sauce, let it boil for a few minutes, then mix in pasta or whatever else you want and you're good to go, and it just tastes so fucking good I can't even tell you lol, I was very pleased. Once that was done I moved on to the tv, I didn't necessarily want to start a new show because most of my shows are coming back this week and I'll be occupied by catching up with them (weeknight classes) for most of my weekends from here on out, so there wasn't much point in starting a new show, so I figured I'd knock off one of the movies on my list and went with batman v superman dawn of justice, just because I love superman (even if I don't love THAT superman) and I felt like a bad fan for not having seen it yet. It was interesting. It was a decent movie, but not a great one. I don't think they develop Clark enough as a character beyond being superman, and for most of the movie I didn't have much of an idea what the hell was going on in Bruce Wayne's head. The supposed doomsday monster at the end felt like a cheap shot, because it was literally just some random monster they tried to slap the doomsday label on in an attempt to tie it to canon, when it's just a fucking random monster. I did like Clark kicking ass to find Martha, and how Bruce immediately changed his tune after finding out Lex had her, even when he had spent most of the movie plotting against superman. Any sadness I would've had over superman's death is pretty much tempered by the fact that I know there's an upcoming justice league movie that he will undoubtedly be in, so there isn't much chance he'll be dead for long. But yeah, fine movie, but not one I'd love for such an iconic character (two iconic characters, really) and nowhere near on the level of the marvel movies (and I say that while being a DC girl through and through). It's a shame they can't seem to find the dynamic in their movies that they've found in their tv shows....if they were smart they would do what marvel is doing and tie in the tv and movie universes, which would be soooooooooo easy to do because they've already introduced the concept of the multiverse and different characters being from different earths, like it would be incredibly easy to introduce them as different universes that are now converging. Sigh. I know it's never gonna happen, but I can dream right? The other exciting thing that happened today was that I officially purchased my ticket to the Heroes vs. Villains Fan Fest in Chi at the end of March which happens to fall on my birthday, because Caity Lotz and a ton of other awesome people will be there and doesn't that sound like an awesome way to spend your birthday?? I have a kickass cosplay in the works (and by that I mean I'm buying one because I have no artistic skills whatsoever) so stay tuned for updates there. Okay, this is long and I'm tired and it's almost 2 am, so I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight loves. Hope your Monday doesn't suck.

#daily journal #January 2017

1 note · View note

latoyarubalcava3546 · 6 years

Text

Just 17 Stories About Encounters With Really Big Penises

“He was a big penis with a big penis.”

I dated a dude who was packing a footlong. The sex was uncomfortable, at best, and he refused to go down on me. I dumped him after a year of making up excuses to not have sex. The crazy part was that he had no clue that he was big — every time we talked about his size, he couldn't believe he was anything more than average. —hollyskittlesb

As a gay lady, I haven’t seen many penises since I lost my virginity at 17. But my first experience with someone of the opposite sex was with a guy who, to date, has the biggest penis I have ever seen. We were camping with a large group, tents and horses, down by the Suwannee river in Florida. My high school boyfriend and I retired early to my tent where we commenced a hot and heavy petting session. After retaining my permission, he whipped out a vey long, rock solid and extremely girthy penis.

We spent the next ten minutes simply working on getting the tip in. It was exhausting and painful, but he was determined and I was battling ‘I don’t want to be gay’ syndrome so I was patient, despite the agony of having my lady bits spread beyond their expectations. It didn’t take long once he was finally in, much to my relief. But sometimes when I dredge up this memory I can still feel the force of that massive appendage pressing its way into tender flesh. I won’t say the experience turned me off to men completely — I think that was already a done deal — but it definitely made me appreciate the wonders of lube. —kristens13

funnyjunk.com

A little while ago I was pretty much IN LOVE with this guy that appeared on my favorite reality TV show. I was a fan and would watch his Instagram live every chance I got. One day he noticed me from a comment I made and sent me a DM. We exchanged numbers and ended up developing a long distance relationship, and he sent me a dick pic that pretty much made me choke on my coffee. I thought he'd be average size judging by his height but he was PACKING. I was sure he'd break me in half. Unfortunately we broke things off before I was set to fly to see him for a weekend. That was the dick that got away. —phoebecruz

I was grabbing drinks with my best mate and he brought along a buddy. We had to use the restroom around the same time, and long story short it was big enough that he had to use two hands to pee. I wasn't even jealous at that point, just afraid. —mcgoddamn

Fox Searchlight Pictures

I met a guy on Tinder, and after one of our dates we ended up back at his place. I honestly went in trying to resist, but I couldn’t help myself and clothes went flying. My go to move is to hang my head off the edge of the bed and undo their pants while they stand over me before I give them head. When I pulled his boxers down his dick hit my forehead and I fucking almost choked on the thought of that thing in my throat. I don’t think I got more than an inch of that sucker in my mouth, and the sex was almost unenjoyable. ALMOST, because the girth on that log cock was nuts. Needless to say, sometimes when i’m feeling brave, I’ll hit him up. —oliviavincentk

When I was in school there was this guy that tried to get with me for months. He kept telling me "my dick is the size of a keyboard" and I continuously ignored him. Eventually I changed my mind I guess and I was in his bedroom and when he pulled it out, my first thought was "oh my God, it really is the size of a child's toy keyboard" I was ready to take on the challenge but quickly realized it was too big for me. He could barely get the tip in without me whining about it hurting and it basically slipping out. One time it slipped out and in between my thighs, I just squeezed my thighs super, super tight and let him fuck that thinking that was my vagina 'cause there was no way his dick was fitting in me. —breg4234ec519

Ex-boyfriend was around 11 inches. He was a giant penis, so I guess it stood to reason he had one too. —heinrichgabrielf

It was my sophomore year of college and I was a virgin. This guy in one of my classes and I had been flirting and one night he invited me over. Of course at the time when I first saw it I thought it was regular because I hadn’t seen many penises before, but I could barely get my mouth around it. When he tried to put it in only the tip fit. I was so embarrassed because I thought it was my fault. He was a good sport though about it. I found out later that he had been doing adult movies on the side to make some extra cash. —oliviap442af5447

Fox

I met a dude while I was working at a shoe store. He was embarrassed about his large shoe size, to which I said saucily, “well you know what they say about big feet” with a wink. Fast forward. We start dating, and, man, did I find out how appropriate that joke was. Dude was HUGE! It was at least 11 inches. Sex was...difficult. I can remember him saying “yeah guys always want a big dick, but it’s actually really annoying.” —marleep3

I used to have a FWB situation with this guy and I shit you not his dick was like a fucking can of Monster energy drink. I'm talking length and girth. The first time I saw it I honest to god gasped out loud. To this day the best sex I've ever had was with him. Sex with him had me feeling so full and it rode that fine and sweet line between pleasure and pain. Now I shed a tear for that glorious dick I lost when he moved across the country. —vanessam4d77c73c0

MTV

I hung out on a nude beach in Hawaii for a few months. One guy had the biggest penis on the beach—this huge, foot long, uncircumcised, monstrous looking dong. He was so proud! He’d strut up and down the beach grinning about it. —hillaryg5

My first one night stand when I was 17. It was dark I reached out to jerk him off and thought I’d grabbed his forearm. He was so big he nearly broke me. —bhogan535

youtube.com

My exes dick was like a baseball bat. Seriously — in length, girth, and shape. I mean, not seriously, but it was AT LEAST 10 inches. It had a larger head than shaft so it felt amaaaazing when he took his time and pulled all the way out and back in. But heaven help me when he got to pounding away, I could feel my cervix wincing. —ladydanger2020

10 inches and as thick as my wrist. The problem? He thought his ten inches was all he needed to bring to the bedroom to make the sex good. He just laid there like the physical incarnation of a yawn. Best sex I ever had? Five inches with a throw me up against a wall attitude that did. not. quit. —thedistancetohere222

I went to a tiny Christian university in Idaho. I was dating a boy who grew up with missionary parents, so he was very religious but also 6’6”, and had a dick to match. Because we were both religious at the time we were not having penetrative sex. Boys and girls were not allowed in each other’s rooms, so we were always jerking each other off in closets, empty classrooms and his RA office at night. I had never seen a penis in real life so when we first started messing around I didn’t think too much of the fact that he was at least 10 inches long when hard and that my hand couldn’t fit around the shaft. I just assumed this was normal. After a year and a half of dating we never had penetrating sex. I still wonder sometimes what it would have felt like, and feel a little relieved that the first dick inside of me wasn’t 10 inches long. —samanthah470d36cca

youtube.com

I was 18, and the guy I was seeing was this 6'7" football player, and when the time came to get naked, it was so big, I lied and said I was out of condoms so I could avoid trying to accommodate such a giant. My inexperience definitely contributed to my lack of confidence. Can't say I would have declined if I saw it today! He was BLESSED. —christinak4c924587c

At the beginning of my sophomore year of college, I met this guy from another college who was visiting some friends. We ended up hooking up that night, and his penis was the biggest I had ever seen — at least 10 inches hard. Fast forward to me going down on him, it was too big to fit in my mouth and it fell out, but when it fell out it flung back and smacked onto his stomach and made a really loud slapping noise. I started laughing so hard, I probably killed the mood. —afin21

Stories have been edited for length and clarity.

0 notes

lolmohammed667 · 6 years

Text

Just 17 Stories About Encounters With Really Big Penises

I GET MY MONEY FOR NOTHING AND MY CHICKS FOR FREE!

“He was a big penis with a big penis.”

funnyjunk.com

Fox Searchlight Pictures

Ex-boyfriend was around 11 inches. He was a giant penis, so I guess it stood to reason he had one too. —heinrichgabrielf

Fox

MTV

My first one night stand when I was 17. It was dark I reached out to jerk him off and thought I’d grabbed his forearm. He was so big he nearly broke me. —bhogan535

youtube.com

Stories have been edited for length and clarity.

[Read More ...]

GUYS WHO DON'T HAVE CASH DON'T GET LAID! CHANGE THAT!

0 notes