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#and how lawn gnomes will take over our jobs
adarkrainbow · 1 year
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Hello!
Turns out I was lecturing about my own history too ! I'm also French and I kind of studied the 19th century in depth years ago 😅. Though I've also studied litterature, but I'm more a history student and my brain went 'trump card activated'!
As for Castles, I agree, with all the big Castles in Ile de France (Fontainebleau, Versailles, Le Louvre etc, it's not surprising that in our minds Castle = BIG
I've discovered this blog a couple of months ago now? And it bring me great joy. Fairy tales were always an area of interest to me but I never studied them so I'm devouring all your posts on them.
Thank you so much for the blog!
Oh I didn't meant it as "it is vexing when I'm lectured by a foreigner about my own history". The thing is... in general when someone points out you don't know your own history, whoever they are, no matter the time, the condition, the intention, you'll always feel embarassed and vexed because that's how human body works X) Be it a British tourist who knows more than you as you chat by the sea-side about the big battle-ship nearby or your very French neighbor who points out the classic French book you praise wasn't written by the person you think wrote it... You know it is just one of those embarassing moments. Didn't meant to sound like the archetypal xenophobic French "Those damn foreigners putting their nose where it does not belong!"
Yeah - I studied literature myself, and while I do casually enjoy history (and am forced to know about it), I am not at all a history hack. I can tell you the full history of fairytales but do not ask me to list you the order of French kings.
Well this blog has been around for... a couple of years now? At least two years around - so while it is pretty "young", you managed to dig up one of those ancient posts nobody comments or reblogs anymore X) But at the same time that's literaly what I created my Masterpost list for - so newcomers can dig through the old archives they might have missed.
I have to say you're welcome! I admit with this blog I have my ups and downs - being literaly an over-stressed Master student trying to scratch some last-minute time to finalize a mémoire you one day believe is the greatest thing on earth, the following day reject as a stupid piece of overbloated uselessness... This blog is literaly an anti-stress system I put together originally to act as a side-way to my actual fairytale studies, so it can be quite moody X) And the periods of relaxation and calm usually coincide wth the "grandes vacances".
But anyway - all of that to say, that I do appreciate your compliments! It is just that you know, trying to bring forward French stuff to a side of Tumblr that is not big or keen on French culture (it comes to no surprise that when I work on a long, complex, full post about Perrault it gets reblogs I can count on a hand, but a throw-away hasty short post about the Grimm gets dozens and dozens of reblogs in a day), I always get tense when I make a mistake because my whole credibility is blown into little pieces by the overtly-critical and always-judgemental eye of the dreaded RANDOM AMERICAN GUY WHO COMES OUT AND SAYS HA TURNS OUT YOU ARE NOT AS FRENCH AS YOU SAY YOU ARE...
... I usually do not get as expressive and agitated in a post, especially an answer post, but I am tired and overwork so i'm just having a quiet little mania moment :)
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peterstanslizzie · 5 years
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Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.8 (Misadventures in Babysitting)
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- In the kitchen, we see Lizzie making scented candles, I believe? While her mom, Jo is prepping for dinner. Jo gets a call from their regular babysitter, Debbie and informs her that she won’t be able to babysit the kids tomorrow night. Frustrated with the news, she takes it out on a slab of meat.
- They try to come up with an alternative babysitter but their remaining choices don’t seem very appropriate. Lizzie tries suggesting herself but her idea was immediately shot down by her parents because they feel as though she’s far too young and this doesn’t seem like the first time this has been brought up.
- Also, poor Sam thought that the mixture Lizzie was preparing was cheese but as I had guessed, it was candle wax.
If Kate Babysits, So Can Lizzie
- During lunch hour at the cafeteria, Lizzie and Miranda are complaining about having to do a boring assignment where they have to design a model community that includes housing, hospitals, schools, police and a fire department. It actually sounds like something I would enjoy doing if I am allowed to inject some of my imagination and a little creativity into it.
- Lizzie asks Gordo what he would include in his own community design and he gets real specific about what he wants from having a bookstore containing the works of Navajo and Greek philosophers to the mayor being Tyra Banks. If Tyra was mayor of my town, she would pretty much re-name it as Modelville or Tyraville lol.
- Kate pops up and asks Gordo where the nearest software store is and if they sell a software that can design cities and towns, to which he suggests ‘Cybertown Maker’. Lizzie reprimands Kate for being lazy and trying to find an easy way of completing the assignment but in fact, she was mad at Gordo for not telling her about the software in the first place.
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I will be surprised if she’s still allowed to babysit after this
- Gordo says that the software costs $60, which is expensive but this doesn’t rattle Kate as she has saved enough money from her babysitting job to purchase the product.
- Because of that, Lizzie is taken aback because she couldn’t believe that Kate is allowed to babysit while Lizzie isn’t. Plus, Lizzie is the person who gets ‘babysat’. They, mainly Gordo then discuss about Kate’s developed figure and how she gives off a more mature vibe than most girls her age, which probably signals to adults she’s capable of handling the responsibility of babysitting. Miranda calls her ‘stacked’. I don’t this term is even allowed in children’s television today due to how PC our culture is nowadays.
- Lizzie brings Kate up with her parents and Jo seems pleasantly surprised to find out Kate babysits. She does all that she can to convince her parents to allow her to stay at home and take care of herself and Matt for the night. Luckily for her, she manages to do so!
The Adventure Begins
- Sam and Jo are about to leave the house to go on their dinner date and they go over some basic rules and safety precautions with Lizzie. Sam tells Lizzie he trusts her, which is essentially music to her ears. Oh and Gordo and Miranda are there to help Lizzie. Well, as the saying goes, there’s safety in numbers.
- Matt wants to play Pledge of Allegiance but Lizzie tells him they have their assignment to do and will consider it after they have finished their work. However, moments later, Matt gets a little too hyper-active and starts jumping on the couch and running around the living room like the Energizer Bunny.
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Sam needs to relax a bit but I get where he’s coming from. Maybe if he had installed security cameras around the house, that might help a little?
- Sam and Jo arrive at the Chinese restaurant they made reservations at and just right at the moment they sat down at their table, Sam starts acting a little nervous and fidgety because he’s worried about the kids. Jo tries to calm his nerves down but nothing she says is working.
- They come to a compromise where Sam can go back to check in on the kids through the window and once everything looks okay, he will come straight back to the restaurant and will eat his meal in peace.
- Meanwhile, back at the Mcguire home, Lizzie is frantically trying to wipe grape juice stain off their carpet because Matt had accidentally spilled the drink that Miranda had given to him. Matt is also not listening to any of Lizzie’s orders but will actually listen to Gordo because he’s an “older male’.
Home Alone Vibes
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- Matt accidentally triggers a fuse to blow when he was playing with a mini vacuum cleaner (I think). This causes the whole house to end up not having any electricity and it is pitch dark. The kids starts lighting up some of Lizzie’s home-made scented candles and turns out, the candles smell really bad.
- Sam arrives at the back porch and he tries standing on a chair to get a small peep through the top window because it’s the only section of the window not covered by curtains. He makes the dumb decision to step onto the top rail of the chair and he loses his balance and falls and hits his throat on the tip of his lawn gnome statue’s hat. Ouch! That has gotta hurt.
- The kids heard the fall and are immediately startled. They wonder if that sound came from a burglar or a wild animal. The intelligent, Gordo fixes the circuit and the power is back on. All of a sudden, Sam tries to force himself through the latched front door by slipping his right hand through the door. Also, when he tries to call for the kids, he sounds very different because his voice box was affected by the fall.
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I feel so bad for Sam Mcguire. He should have just stayed at the restaurant.
- They obviously do not recognize that it was Sam and Lizzie runs towards the door and slams it on Sam’s hand, hurting him in the process. Lizzie then calls the police for help.
- Back at the restaurant, the waitress is suggesting Jo should date her cousin because she thinks that Sam has actually left her. Like left her, left her. Lol, that woman needs to mind her own business because I would have told her to buzz off.
- The house phone starts ringing and Lizzie answers it. She hears and recognizes the same voice of the man who was just outside their house trying to break in and immediately hangs up. Sam gets very frustrated and he grabs a saw and tries to cut through the chain of the latch.
- With some quick thinking, the kids set up a trap for the intruder and just when they discover it was actually Sam, it was already too late and the trap is already triggered; A tin can filled with flour swings its way towards him and hits him in his ‘crown jewel’.
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He has gone through so much pain in one night. Like I said before, he shouldn’t have left the restaurant PERIOD!
Aftermath
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Despite being a so-called ‘helicopter parent’, he is really a sweet dad and really cares about his kids.
- The police arrives and they catch Sam and threaten to arrest him. But after questioning Lizzie’s if Sam is her father, the police lets him go.
- Lizzie is pretty mad at her dad for not trusting her to babysit for the night, which she should be but a father cannot help but be worried about his children. So, I don’t blame either of them. Sam recognizes that her daughter is not a little girl anymore and is willing to let her take on more responsibilities, which is babysitting Matt on more nights. Lizzie isn’t too thrilled.
Overall Thoughts
- I felt that this was a very well-balanced episode because there’s no separate A plot and B plot; Every character’s storyline intersects one another, which gives us time to breathe and really experience the episode.
- I like how Lizzie is willing to show to her parents that she can be a responsible person and she certainly stepped up to the plate. Sam Mcguire also shone in this episode in terms of his involvement in the main storyline. I also appreciate how protective he is over his kids.
- Gordo and especially, Miranda didn’t have much to do here. If their characters were absent, this episode would have been just as strong. But they are part of the main cast, so they have to be in the episode one way or the other.
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muse-matters · 6 years
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Fay World (Draft)
It took Gwen ten minutes to explain to the deputies from the San Bernadino Sheriff’s Department that the enchanted green and purple bonfire currently lighting up her parent's backyard was harmless and entirely legal under the Mythic Magic Act. As she talked and answered their questions, they nodded but their eyes remained skeptical and their hands rested on their weapons. It was the kind of uneasiness Gwen had come to expect from most humans, especially humans confronted with a large group of Mythics.
“Look why don’t you come and see for yourself?” She gestured to the house. Though it was still two hours to midnight it was as bright as dawn, the electric lights inside combining with the bonfire and the tiny magical lights hanging in the sky. The babble of voices and laughter intertwined with the distant melody of someone playing a pipe and Mythics of all shapes and sizes were scattered across the unnaturally green lawn.
“I don’t think that will be necessary. We don’t want to interrupt your party.”  The junior deputy said with barely concealed apprehension. Gwen tried not to smile at how easy they were to get rid of.
“Well then if there is nothing else?” She looked between them and her eye caught on something, or rather someone, behind them. If the officers had looked they wouldn’t have noticed anything but since the age of ten, Gwen had learned to detect the slight shimmer that came when Jack, her brothers best friend, went invisible. She gritted her teeth as he flitted about the car and hoped that whatever mischief he was up to wouldn’t land them all in trouble.
She focused back on the officers as they made their goodbyes and gave the standard warning about the penalties of illegal magic. She assured them again doing her best to look relaxed. They got into their car and Gwen held her breath, waiting for Jack’s trick to manifest. When the car was halfway down the long gravel drive and nothing exploded or seemed wrong she let it out in a whoosh.
There was a chuckle beside her.
“What did you do to the car?” She asked the night air.
“Something they won’t trace back to their visit here.”  She could hear the smile in his voice.
“They better not or I swear this time I will turn you in.”
“You are no fun.” Jack appeared before her, stepping into the night as if parting a curtain. Unmasked, his magic hit her; strong and unmistakably wild. Her traitorous heart skipped a beat, he was too close. She tipped her head to meet his deep green eyes.
“We have different definitions of fun”
“You used to like my tricks.” He said with a pout that didn’t fool Gwen for a second.
“That was when I was a kid and thought you and Owen were cool.” She didn’t add it was also when she’d had a ridiculous crush on him.
He gasped theatrically and placed his hand on his heart. “How dare you imply I am not cool.”
In spite of herself, Gwen smiled. “You are trouble.”
“Actually I’m a puka.”
“Same thing.”
He grinned wide enough for his dimple to flash and dipped his head as if acknowledging a compliment. His white-blonde hair looked purple in the bonfire light and Gwen tried not to notice how attractive he looked. He really was trouble. As a puka Jack was a natural born trickster and never let something as trivial as human laws get in the way of having fun. Worse he was always dragging Owen into his schemes and landing Gwen’s simple guardian faerie brother in jail.  
A roar followed by laughter and cheering sounded from the bonfire.
“Looks like the dwarves have started brawling,” Gwen said.
Jack chuckled as he turned from her. “Trouble calls.” Then he stepped back into the air disappearing into the night.
Gwen shook her head, telling herself she was glad to be rid of him. Without really thinking about it she pulled out her phone to text her sister, Elaine, knowing she would understand.
Jack is the worst
Gwen stared at the screen and the five previous messages she had sent with no reply. Unlike Gwen, Elaine was hard to get a hold of and always traveling. Ostensibly she was hunting for a gateway back to the Otherworld but from her social media, it seemed the only thing she was hunting was the best photo-op. Despite her trooping faerie ways, this was the first year Elaine had missed the annual Samhain party. Gwen had been up since dawn working with her mother to accomplish what was usually a three-person job. Though working in the kitchen was vastly preferrable to making small talk with the gnomes from Arizona, Gwen couldn’t help but be resentful that her sister had left her to face the party alone.
She put her phone back in her pocket as she weaved through the various vehicles, motorbikes, pedal bikes and a school bus painted neon green that littered the driveway and front lawn. Though many guests had arrived via magic more and more Mythics were growing practical and adapting to human modes of transportation, thanks in part to the recent changes in the laws. Changes that Gwen had helped enact, not that any of them knew or cared.
The porch step creaked as she trudged to the door. If Gwen didn’t go back into the kitchen to report about the police her mother would send someone looking for her. Steeling herself she opened the door and stepping inside.
The various types of magic, overwhelming and impossible to sort out the origins, hit her like jumping naked into a glacier lake. Taking a deep breath she reminded herself that it would be easier once she adjusted to it. As she struggled to acclimate Gwen scanned the room for her mother.
She wasn’t part of the knot of pixies that were listening to Amy Takanaka. By the laughing and sly look in the kitsune’s eyes Gwen assumed she was telling about tricking her latest human boy toy. Even knowing that Mythics existed Amy still managed to fool a surprising number of men. Beyond them was Henrik, a tall, lean, Nordic elf, talking to Chetna. The naga’s snakelike eyes looked mildly interested so Gwen guessed that she didn’t yet need saving from Henrik discussing his pet wolf’s bowel movements. Scanning further over the eclectic assortment of Mythics filling the room Gwen realized her mother must be in the kitchen.
She was wondering if it would be easier to sneak outside and around the house when a frisson of magic pulled her up short. It pressed upon Gwen, making every hair stand up and her heart pound. Liquid smoke wrapped around her legs before pouring itself into the shape of a human woman in front of her.
Gwen didn’t know if all jinni had the same annoying habit of ostentatious materializing but for as long as she could remember it was how Afiya had moved even short distances. The pressure of the magic eased as Afiya took form and Gwen gave a sigh.
“If you spent more time around magic it wouldn’t affect you so strongly,” Afiya said before its mouth had fully formed.
“Nice to see you too, Auntie.” Gwen gave a sweet smile. Ignoring the advice Afiya had already given her a hundred times. Afiya was a family friend and one of the first Mythics Gwen’s parent’s had met when they came to America. Sensing its unique, powerful magic they had followed it to a cave in Death Valley. Afiya, like so many American Mythics, was a refugee and luckily had taken a liking to Branwen and Cormac despite their British origins.  
Afiya wrinkled its nose, it had chosen an aristocratic one this time. “You even smell human. Our kind was never meant to spend so much time with humans.”
“So you have told me. Just as I have told you that it’s a good job, doing important work for all Mythics.”
“Your generation! The very idea of taking worthless pieces of paper and plastic instead of bartering is offensive.”
Gwen didn’t bother pointing out that Afiya’s power made it easy to disdain currency because it didn’t need it to survive. Just as it didn’t care about the Mythic laws Gwen worked on because humans couldn’t enforce them on it.
“You need to spend more time with your sister. She will teach you how to be a true guardian faerie. Where is she?”
“Not here.” Gwen couldn’t keep the sharpness from her voice.
“And you resent her for that? She is doing the work she is meant for, the most important work of all. All of this nonsense about taking orders from humans will cease when your people finally open a gateway back home.”
As it spoke Afiya began to turn smudgy at the edges and its eyes, shifted from a deep blue to an unnatural orange. Magic rolled off of it in waves and Gwen gritted her teeth to keep herself from an angry retort. With a huff, the jinni abandoned its form entirely and became a swirl of smoke that spun up to the ceiling. Gwen hoped it went out the chimney and didn’t come back so that she wouldn’t be tempted to tell it how wrong it was.
While it was true that Gwen and her family were guardian faeries and that their kind had always been the keepers of the crossroads, with abilities to both sense where doorways were possible and to open them between the worlds. It was also true that no doorway had been opened for 26 years, almost all of Gwen’s life. Afiya talked of going home but America was the only home Gwen had ever known.  
Pulling out her phone she sent Elaine another message.
I almost yelled at Afiya. This is what happens when you aren’t here to run interference.
As an afterthought, she added a smiley face so Elaine wouldn’t think she was angry.
“Hey.”
Gwen looked up to see her brother Owen approaching.
“Hey.” She put her phone away.
They were of a height, his purple eyes a match to hers, but his hair was short and grass green, framing his pointed ears while hers was dyed black and shoulder length, ears safely hidden. The excess magic in the room didn’t seem to be bothering him at all as he smiled and took a bite of a honey cake that Gwen had helped make that morning. Exhaustion swept over her and she longed to grab his cake and go hide in her old bedroom.
“What did you say to Afiya?” Owen waggled his eyebrows and Gwen was sure he had a good idea of the conversation.
“I was polite. Afiya just doesn’t want to accept the truth.”
“You mean your truth that the doorways are locked forever?”
“Remind me how many doorways you have found in your ten years of looking?”
“Ouch, little sister, no need to rub it in. And to think I was going to give you a gift.” Out of the air he produced another honey cake and offered it to her with a smile. The small magic was a party trick Jack had taught them when they were younger, though Gwen had never managed to master it.
“What do you want?”
“Can’t I just do something nice?”
Gwen raised her eyebrows.
“Fine,” he said. “I got into a bit of legal trouble and I was hoping you could help me out.”
“Ow-en.” She half groaned.
“It’s not a big deal. We don’t even have to talk about it now. Just after the party before you go back to L.A.”
“Okay. After the party.” He broke into a grin and she held up her hand “But I need two more honey cakes and you have to run interference with Mom for the next hour.”
“Done.”
They didn’t shake on the bargain but Gwen knew it to be magically binding by the zing up her spine. Normally she wouldn’t make a bargain so cavalierly but Owen was her brother she trusted him not to take advantage. In quick succession, Owen produced two more cakes. Gwen took them with a smile.
“I’m going upstairs to my room,” she said.
“I will make sure you are undisturbed.”
“And tell Mom there were no issues with the police.”
He gave a mock salute before turning and plunging back into the crowd towards the kitchen. Gwen went the opposite direction to the sagging old staircase.
#
Laying in her old bed Gwen sucked the last bit of honey from her fingers. The full moon streamed through the window bathing the dark room in silver. Below and outside the party continued but at this distance the gathered magic faded into the background like hearing the pounding of waves from a beach house instead of having them break over her and drag her into the ocean.
Her families first Samhain party had been a small affair, just her parents, a nymph named Laurel they had met on their way to America, five-year-old Owen, three-year-old Gwen, and one-year-old Elaine. They had made the traditional foods and stayed up until midnight trying to catch glimpses into the world that had been suddenly closed to them. But there had been nothing to see, the Otherworld was hidden from them even on the night when the barrier between worlds was thinnest. Owen said that they sang songs and danced under stars until dawn in defiant joy but Gwen only remembered the feeling of emptiness and the desolation on her mothers face.
The next year, after her parents had made countless Mythic friends traveling the country, their small apartment had been bursting with guests and the party held a week before Samhain. Her parents had said it was to avoid upsetting their human neighbors by having so many Mythics gathered together on a day of power but Gwen was never sure that was exactly true. Especially because it seemed every year, no matter where they were living, the police were always called about the party. Gwen was wondering who had called them this year when she heard a thud from Elaine’s room.
Holding her breath she sat up and strained her ears, which were more acute than a human’s. Over the sounds of the party, she heard the faintest of footsteps and the scrape of a chair. Gwen frowned. Who could possibly have a reason to be in Elaine’s room? If it was a hobgoblin looking to do some cleaning in exchange for more food she wasn’t going to stand for it.
But when she got to Elaine's doorway the occupant wasn’t three foot and hairy nor was he cleaning. The stranger appeared to be almost six feet and was inspecting the contents of a desk drawer a red ball of faerie fire glowing above his shoulder.
Gwen switched on the electric light. The stranger reared up hitting his head on his faerie fire and cursing.
“What are you doing?” Gwen demanded as she stepped into the room.
He turned to her scowling as he rubbed the back of his head. “Was that necessary?”
“What? Who the hell are you? And why are you snooping in my sister's room?” Gwen crossed her arms trying to figure out just what kind of Mythic he was.
“Just exploring.” He flashed her a smile that would have been charming under different circumstances before continuing in a smooth accented voice, “Sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t scare me.” Gwen wondered if she should be scared of his magic but when she tried to feel for it all she got was the weak pulse from the faerie fire. “You’re human.”
“And you are a Mythic.” He tipped his head slightly, and a dark curl slipped onto his forehead. His face was narrow and handsome despite the slight crook in his nose.
“Why are you here?” Gwen looked at the open desk drawer. There was nothing but junk in it. Elaine didn’t really use it but this man clearly didn’t know that and his accent made it unlikely he was a local attracted by the light and noise.
“I was invited by my friend. Couldn’t pass up a chance to see a real Mythic bash.”
“What’s your friend's name?”
“John.” He barely paused but Gwen knew in her gut he was lying. She hated liars.
“No, you’re not.”
His lips twitched. “No, I’m not. Quite clever aren’t you.” He smiled and it was sharp at the edges. “Well, now that we have established that I don’t belong here shall we make a deal?”
Gwen frowned. Nothing good could come from a bargain with this man but she had finally placed his accent, some variety of British, and in spite of herself she was intrigued.
“What would be your terms?” She asked.
“I will tell you who I am, why I am here, and leave immediately if you answer one question.”
“What question?”
“First promise.”
Gwen put her hands on her hips. “I am not stupid enough to agree to anything without knowing the full terms. Especially with a human who could easily break their word.” Human’s had a choice in bargains but for her it was always magically binding. A fact she had learned painfully as a child.
“So untrustworthy.” He gave a shake of his head. “Alright. I want to know where Elaine is.”
Ice stabbed Gwen’s heart. What had Elaine gotten mixed up in now? “I will tell you what I know about where Elaine is if you tell me who you are, why you are here and leave immediately.”  She hoped he hadn’t noticed her change to his wording. But his smug smile eased her fears.
“Agreed.”
“Agreed.” Gwen felt the zing up her spine sealing the bargain. “You first.”
He grinned broadly like a poker player about to lay down a winning hand. “I’m a private investigator and I am here because my employer suspects that your sister kidnapped Vivian Jamison. My job is to find Elaine and turn her into the authorities.”
“What? That’s insane. Elaine and Vivian are friends. She wouldn’t kidnap her.”
He shrugged. “And yet Vivian Jamison is missing and was last seen with your sister. Elaine’s innocence or guilt isn’t really my business. I am here to find her, turn her into the authorities and collect my money.”
Gwen was appalled by his naked avarice. This was her sister's life they were talking about. She thought of all the unanswered texts and her stomach clench in panic.   
“When did Vivian go missing?”
“That wasn’t part of the agreement. Now tell me where is Elaine?” He stepped closer.
Gwen wanted to throttle him and his smug smirk, he had deliberately given her information so she would know she was selling out Elaine. She was now grateful for how little she knew.
“I don’t know where she is. The last time we spoke she was in Edinburgh.”
He glared and took another step into her space. “She was in Edinburgh five days ago. You agreed to tell me where she is now.”
“No. I agreed to tell you what I knew about where she is. That’s all I know. My end of the bargain is met.” She felt the confirming coldness wash over her. She owed this man nothing.
“But you have an idea of where she might have gone or where she might be?”
This time she stepped toward him with a sickly sweet smile. “That wasn’t part of the agreement. Now leave before I call my jinni friend up here to make you leave.”
She was close enough to see that his eyes were a deep blue as they flashed and he looked on the verge of arguing but then he broke into a laugh that took all the bravado out of Gwen. She stepped away confused.
“Well played, little fae.” He sat on the desk and eyed her speculatively “You know there is no reason for us to be enemies.”
“You are trying to get my sister pinned for kidnapping.”
“If the price was right I could be convinced to help you instead.”
“So all you care about is your payday?”
“A man’s got to eat.”
Gwen felt sick at his words. She wasn’t even sure if he was being honest or if this was just another attempt at getting information from her.
“I don’t need the help of a human bounty hunter to find my sister.”
He considered her for a long moment before nodding. Then he reached into his black motorcycle jacket and pulled out a card. “In case you change your mind.”  When she didn’t move to take it he set in on the desk. He gave her one last smirk before sauntering past her and down the stairs.
She watched from the top step as he closed the front door and then went to Elaine’s window and watched him jump into an unremarkable sedan with California plates. Only when his taillights had disappeared into the dark did she move to go find Owen.
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howtohero · 6 years
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Animated Household Objects
You know how sometimes you’re making breakfast and you’ve got a big meeting later in the day and you’re rehearing your spiel to yourself while you’re flapping your jacks or toasting your french. And then suddenly your whisk or your toaster or the bottle of syrup starts giving you constructive criticism. Or threatening your life. Or making inappropriate jokes at your expense. No? That’s not relatable? Well, pray that it never is. Nobody lays down a sicker burn than a toaster. 
When things in your kitchen start coming to life your first instinct is probably to be mildly alarmed or to run screaming from your home and call... animal control? The police? The fry cook’s union? Customer services? Whomever, but you need to bury that instinct. With a shovel. Behind your house. Just make sure the shovel’s not alive too. Because then you’ll have more fears and you’ll need to dig more holes and you’ll have to go to the store to get a new shovel and it’s going to be a whole thing. What you need to do when confronted with objects that shouldn’t be alive coming to life (which is not to say that we think pots and pans and lawn mowers shouldn’t get a shot at living a long and fulfilling life we’re just saying that usually they do not and that’s sort of fine?) you need to put on a brave face. Living objects can sense your fear and they delight in it. 
The first thing you need to do is corral them. Especially the things that are made of plastic. Don’t ask me why but one of the laws of animacy states that sentience mixed with plastic creates mischief. Living plastic objects are some of the most mischievous beings the galaxy has ever seen. Think now about some of the mischievous people in your life, most likely the people you’re thinking of are plastic men or plastic women. If you’ve never met a living being made of plastic then nothing I can say can really adequately prepare you for the mischief you are going to experience. They’re going to break your dishes and prank call foreign leaders and use your wedding dress as a paint brush to paint over the stately portrait of your great ancestor. They’re going to burn down your living room and launch your pets out of cannons and cook waaaaay too much pasta. More pasta than they could conceivably ever eat. Even if they had stomachs. Your house will just be flooded with pasta thanks to these little cutlery cretins. 
You need to gather up all of the living objects in your house and lock them in a room or something. Make sure it’s your least favorite room. One of the rooms in your house that you never really cared for. Even if they’re not made of plastic they’re still going to get up to trouble. Once that’s done you can start to figure out what’s going on. 
Objects can come to life in a number of different ways. Most of them are accidental. There aren’t a lot of people actively trying to grant sentience to their patio furniture. They can be brought to life by being exposed alien technology, artifacts, or energy sources. They can be granted sentience through any and all means of magic. Certain universes just have different rules for what gets to be sentient and what doesn’t. There are universes with living toys, garden gnomes, foodstuffs, and if, no, when, those living objects crossover into another dimension, they will usually retain their sentience. Sometime’s a child’s heartfelt wish is all it takes for an object to gain a life of its own.
This last one is especially common for stuffed animals. As the great 17th century philosopher, Thomas Hobbes once said, “There is no greater love between any two beings than there is between a child and their magically aware stuffed animal.” When a stuffed animal is granted sentience through any means they automatically become a guardian of sorts for the child. Sometimes they even grow in size, to more adequately protect their ward. Don’t let their softness and cuddliness fool you though, a living stuffed animal guardian is one of the best forms of protection anybody can have. Their strength is powered by love and their motives are purer than anyone’s. So if you ever find yourself facing a threat that you’re quite sure you can handle on your own, try finding a stuffed animal guardian and convincing them that their child could be in danger if the threat is not managed.
At the end of the day though, it doesn’t really matter how your stapler and three of your socks (one of these socks is the loneliest sock to ever live) came to life. Usually we try to take a look at how things happen so that we can undo them later. Like, we’d like to know how this sarcophagus has killed everybody that has come into contact with it so that we can work to counter that in the future. But here, our focus should not be to undo the process at hand here. Like it or not, these objects are alive now, and as a superhero you’re sworn to protect all forms of life. Even if your backpack is a lot ruder then you thought it would be. 
Instead your focus should be on finding them a place in the world where they can live out their lives. Go talk to them, find out what they want, what they’re searching for in life. They might have a lot of questions for you. They might be a bit confused and oriented. Hopefully they won’t have any memories from before they became sentient. Especially if they’re bath products. But regardless try to get to know these folks. Try to forge a connection. If you’re successful you might be able to help them find their place in the world. If you’re really successful you could open up your own sentient object advising center. That would be the coolest career ever. You could retire from all this superhero business. Don’t worry about all your villains. They were only committing all of those heinous crimes to get a rise out of you anyway. 
It’s possible that your new sentient object friends won’t be immediately accepted by the rest of the world. That seems like the kind of crappy thing the rest of the world would do. So it might be best to keep them hidden for a bit. There are probably plenty of folks in the super- or para-communities that would gladly take them in or watch out for them. There’s enough weird stuff in the world for a sassy lunch box and a too-smart-for-their-own-good hockey puck to be able to fit in somewhere. 
A lot of sentient objects do eventually integrate into society. Some of them go off to form their own communities, while others choose to join mainstream society. Some of them even go on to become superheroes! (Like, remember Bold-Kold?) No doubt due to your positive influence! So good job! Others will go on to get real jobs (maybe you should take a page out of their book {unless they’re a living book, then leave the poor guy alone!}) or enroll in school. Some of them will just go off and spray paint bad words on the sides of abandoned subway cars. Wherever they end up going though, they’ll definitely go on to make the world a much more interesting place.
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ununniliad · 6 years
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Writer's Block Person #40: "Too Much Time Inside My Own Skull" Part Two
Last time:
From within the helmet came a voice, swallowing, struggling to get the word out. "Skull..." They threw their head back and howled. "SKULL WRITER'S BLOCK PERSON!"
Now [still early March 2018]:
"Oh, heck." Whisperion pushed herself up with her staff and got to her feet. Something not-so-nice had actually come out of Writer's Block Person's psyche. What should she do?
Keep her word. Fight alongside it. She pointed her staff, and energy flowed into her friend's distorted form; she could feel it distorting along the way, but they shook themselves out and howled again, replenished.
The monstrous man rose up, tilting forward as if pulled by strings, and stared into Skull Writer's Block Person's burning gaze. "Ohhh, I see." The sneer came through. "You think your anger is special--"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" With two long steps, Skull Writer's Block Person crossed the distance between them, ramming their shoulder into the monstrous man and knocking him askew. "I DON'T CARE!"
The monstrous man staggered back. He laughed, but it had a haggard, stressed edge. "Yeah you do. Yeah you do."
Skull Writer's Block Person ROARED! Their claws lashed out, and sparks burst from the monstrous man's chest. "People like you just keep fucking with us and making things hard for no goddamn reason and I can't stand your bullshit anymore! I! Don't! Know! Why! You! Just! Don't! Be! GOOD!"
The monstrous man let out a grunt of pain, but it turned into a sardonic chuckle. Shadows surrounded his fist and he took a swing at Skull Writer's Block Person, who blocked it with a solid arm, then swung that arm out in a powerful, spark-flaring attack.
Holy cow. If nothing else, this transformation was having an impact. Whisperion focused on the battle, channeling the different flavors of darkness curling around Skull Writer's Block Person into light and life. Maaaaybe this was okay?
  In Writer's Block Person's head, it was not okay, and at the same time, it was glorious. It was fire and rage and righteousness and truth and helpless shouting at the void. And then they heard the void whispering back.
  There's so much pain to this, it whispered. The pain of people's suffering. If you let go of it, you could have this fire, this strength, without the pain... you could be strong... I made this one strong, but you could be stronger... get it?
For a moment, Skull Block Person stood, smoldering in place.
"Yeah," they said. "I get it."
With both hands, they grabbed the monstrous man, gripping the plates of hardened material on his chest, and ripped them away! "I GET that you want to FUCKING use me like you USED everyone in the FUCKING WORLD, you ASSHOLE!"
The man shouted in pain, real pain, sounding helpless, stumbling back. The unprotected-- material? flesh? was red-gray, and shadow streamed from it.  Skull Writer's Block Person lashed out along the unprotected flesh, and it bled bright, bursting in lines of blazing sparks. "You want to turn us all into your pathetic machines to make money or what-the-fuck-EVER and for WHAT? NOTHING!"
No... whispered a voice.
Whisperion's head jerked up - she heard the voice - recognized it, or rather, the way it threaded through the wrinkles of her brain - this was a demon.
For everything... For power... all the power in all the worlds... you could have it... could be mine... ours...
"Get. The fuck. OUT OF MY SKULL!" Skull Writer's Block Person grabbed the monstrous head, stared into its glowing green eyes, and blazed. Their eyes burned a red whose color went beyond the physical operation of rods and cones, an impossible hyperbolic ultrascarlet that burst right through the electromagnetic spectrum and into the metaphysical.
There was a sound that didn't exist, sheet metal being ripped apart overlaid with heavy static. The demon was screaming. The man's body was frozen in a rictus of shock, his face tight, without the glee, without the power.
Skull Writer's Block Person let go of his head, and he fell, boneless, to the pavement and the grass. They spread their arms and screamed at the sky. "STOP DOING THIS TO ME!"
"Drew, it's okay!" Whisperion tossed her staff to the side and raised her hands. "It's done, you can stop--"
"NO I CAN'T!" They covered their face with their claws, panting, great ragged breaths. She could see the tension in their arms, the little twitches that accompanied every movement. "It's not done, I, Whisperion-- you can feel it, right-- I--" Their shoulders went up and a series of shudders wracked their body. "Min-young, I gotta-- they're so awful and maybe I can fix it and maybe I can fight it because they're all out there and they're HURTING us and I HAVE TO STOP THEM!" They threw their head back and screamed, and leapt into the air, and out of sight.
Shit, thought Whisperion, this has officially gone Too Far. Someone had to snap them out of this. ...unfortunately, she didn't know how. Maybe if the demon--
She looked and nope. The monstrous man was gone. Well, double shit!
Okay, keep it together. Her staff blazed with light and she cleared the last of the darkness out of her system, clearing her head. They had a lot of allies; who among them would be best to stop a Writer's Block Person who had gone off and--
Oh, duh. Whisperion looked around. Which one of these was Distraction Damsel's house?
...well, probably the one with the lawn gnomes in hot pink and banana yellow, the snow sculpture of humanity swordfighting God, and the big sign that said "NOT THE HOUSE OF DISTRACTION DAMSEL, THAT'S FOR SURE" on the roof. Must be nice to live in a neighborhood without a homeowner's association.
Whisperion picked her way across the crazy-paving walk and knock-knock-knocked on the door with the window painted on it. "Hoy! Alarums! Calls to action! Distraction Damsel, I need your help!"
The intercom (disguised as a fake rock with a fake key under it) crackled. "Look," said Distraction Damsel, "I told y'all. I don't fight bad guys, I just fight heroes when they need fightin'."
"No, no, no," said Whisperion. "It's Writer's Block Person! They've gone berserk!"
A loud squee came out of the intercom, and then it went silent. Whisperion heard a door open and slam shut on the other side of the house, and Distraction Damsel ran out from behind a stand of rainbow flamingos. "Eee!" she said. "Kismessitude! :D"
Hey, wait, has Distraction Damsel been described yet? Wow, no. Okay, I'll do that now: She's a lanky black girl, speckled with vitiligo, with foofy pink hair, wearing purple glasses, a holofoil bodysuit, and oversized golden gloves and boots like in anime or Mickey Mouse. She wears a purple cargo utiliskirt with oversized pockets full of distractions; glitter, confetti, inflatable dolls, just one more episode, ponderings on the ineffability of existence, and so on. Right now she is very happy so let's continue with that.
The two of them got on Whisperion's moped and sped over to where all the yelling was coming from. Skull Writer's Block Person was standing outside a (thankfully closed) restaurant, yelling at a "NO LOITERING" sign.
"...trying to make it illegal for people to EXIST, or just to be POOR!?" In a single blow, they slashed the sign to ribbons, scoring the brick beneath with clawmarks. The one janitor who had been in the place exited quietly out the back door because they sure as hell weren't dealing with this today.
"Yikes." Distraction Damsel flipped off the moped and ran her hands thru her hair, making it extra foofy. "This is gonna be easy, tho."
"Seriously?" said Whisperion, raising an eyebrow. "They look pretty focused."
"Watch and learn." Distraction Damsel pirouetted up to Skull Writer's Block Person. "Hey, nerd!"
They spun, claws at the ready. "Viv! Nrrrrgh--" Their hands went to their head. "Keep back, I gotta-- gotta focus, I can't--"
Before Skull Writer's Block Person could finish their thought, Distraction Damsel pointed at them and said, "Why don't you just put the whole world in a bottle??"
"Er..." Skull Writer's Block Person lowered their hands, and their burning crimson eyes blinked in confusion. "What?"
"Whoops, wrong one." Distraction Damsel pulled a stack of index cards out of her pocket and leafed thru them. "Here we go..." She tossed them over her shoulder and pointed at Skull Writer's Block Person again. "If you're fighting the bad guys with your new powers, when are you going to have time to write?"
"Uh... well, I guess I'm gonna have to rest sometime, so--"
"And if you're doing that when are you gonna have time to hang out with people?"
"Er, well, if they want to fight evil with me--"
"And if you're doing that what about those books you wanna read,"
"Um--"
"and what about going to those community meetings you're always talking about,"
"Uh--"
"Or organizing your stuff better, or learning to draw, or having a sexy time, or--"
POP-hwoosh! In a burst of crimson light, Skull Writer's Block Person de-transformed, and Drew tumbled to the sidewalk. "...ow..."
Distraction Damsel mimed blowing off a pair of six-shooters and stuck them in her belt. "My job here... is done!"
"Oh, right," said Whisperion. "They de-transform when they can't figure out what to do. I forgot it worked that way."
[Half an hour later...]
Writer's Block Person finished their turkey on rye and drank their glass of water. "Thanks." They leaned back. "I feel a lot better."
Whisperion nodded, clearing away the plates. "Good!" She deposited them in the kitchen, then came back and stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "You gotta take care of yourself, you nerd, or else shit like this happens."
"Ehe..." Writer's Block Person rubbed the back of their head and smiled. "You're right."
"Seriously, I was really worried about you." She took a step forward. "You really can't do shit like that. You're going to really hurt yourself and... and..." She ran across the room and swept them up in her arms, one around their back, one around the back of their head. "And you're too important for that. You're too good."
Writer's Block Person made a "mrhf!" noise as she embraced them, surprised but welcoming, and put their arms around her as best they could. She pressed their head into her shoulder, and they nuzzled in, standing there for a few minutes, cuddling, breathing.
Eventually, she let go. They gave her a little kiss on the neck, and took a step back, though their hands were still on her sides. "Sorry for worrying you, hon."
She chucked, smiled down at them. "It's okay."
"I dunno if I'm actually important, tho. Like, Comic Book Resources would probably call me a C-lister."
Whisperion snerked. "You're important to me, nerd."
Writer's Block Person smiled. "Fair fair. Then I guess, since I love you and all, I gotta take care of what's important to you. Which means..." They let go of her, spinning to point into the distance melodramatically. "It's time to activate... The Zero Closet!!"
Whisperion gasped, then clenched her fist. "Good luck!"
"Thank you!" Writer's Block Person leapt over to the closet, tossed the door open, then spun dramatically to look at her. "I'll need it!"
Whisperion held up her fist for a moment, trembling... then broke out in guffaws. "Heeheeheehee. Okay, weirdo." She blew them a kiss. "Have fun, I'll hang out and finally get some reading done."
Writer's Block Person giggled. "Thanks, hon, you're a peach~" They stepped into the closet and closed the door behind them.
This had originally been a hallway, back when this building was a set of deluxe luxury apartments for the robber-baron-era Pittsburgh elite. Now, it was a big-ass closet with several smaller closets along the walls. It was also an excellent space to be alone with one's thoughts.
With one flip of a switch, the closet was bathed in light from several full-spectrum lamps. Writer's Block Person sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, letting the light fill them.
Slowly, the wisps of seasonal depression rose out of their mind. They inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, letting the random activity of their mind settle down. When it felt like they'd reached some kind of equilibrium, they reached up and turned off the lights.
The darkness was a closet, a close, confined space. And Writer's Block Person took their mental model of the space, and made the walls fall away. It stretched off, now, in all directions, their surroundings one part of a vast space.
In the space, a door rose up - not like the one on the depths, but familiar, solid, the door that you can open and say "I'm home!" And with a little creak and a jingle, the door opened. Two figures stepped through.
One was an anthropomorphic bull, long-horned with orange, shaggy fur. She was six feet tall, muscular, and wearing a flannel shirt and magenta-pink denim overalls. Through her nose was a ring in the shape of a Venus symbol.
[Bedelia Dunaidh. Highland Cattle bullwoman. Strong and warm and proud of you. Playful and powerful. Horn-y on main.]
The other was a woman whose paleness was the hard-earned result of many days spent inside. She wore a black crop top, a holofoil skirt and wraparound reflective shades, plus dark blue glittery lipstick.
[Nyx. The ultimate '90s hacker. Sparkles and neon and scrolling green letters. Snarky as hell. Loves to not give a fuck.]
Bedelia closed the door behind her, and with a wave of her hand, it slipped down into the endless mindscape. She stood, relaxed and confident, a pillar of strength.
"Well!" said Nyx, leaning back against the wall with a smirk. "That didn't go well."
"Now, now," said Bedelia. She knelt down and put her hand on Writer's Block Person's shoulder. "How are you doing, love?"
They sighed. "Well, not as bad, but..." They shook their head. "God, I could've really hurt someone. I mean, I did hurt someone, but someone who, y'know, wasn't physically attacking me. ...which I still feel guilty about, anyway."
Nyx rolled her eyes. "You were halfway to burning yourself out as it was. You would've taken a swipe at an innocent rando and keeled over from anxiety."
"Well, maybe." Writer's Block Person rubbed their upper arms, looking oddly comforted by the idea. "Still... ugh." They shook their head again, looking down at their feet. "I was so hungry to do things, so hungry to unleash my anger on a deserving target..." A lonely howl sounded from far away. "I still am."
"That anger's still in you," said Bedelia, "though it's cooled, now that you've released it. And that's no bad thing; there is much in this world to be angry about. The trick, of course, is keeping your own will and compassion in the face of it."
Writer's Block Person sighed. "Yeah... mnnnngh... bleh. I just want to be effective." They ran their fingers thru their hair. "It's so hard to feel like I'm really doing anything. Like, people are suffering in ways I can't help them with, because of what somebody did to them, or what somebody's doing to them now. Even inside my cute little bubble, sometimes." They sighed, looking up at the invisible ceiling.
Bedelia stepped behind them and sank her fingers into their hair, rubbing their scalp. "You are being effective. You're supporting people, every day. You don't always see the results immediately. Sometimes they seem unaffected, sometimes they just get frustrated at themselves or the world, end up screaming or burned out. But that doesn't mean they are unaffected. Every little gesture of support matters. It creates a pattern of support; it becomes part of people's lives, a feeling like there is support out there, even if it isn't available right now."
They sighed. "I know. It's just hard when I can't see it."
She smiled. "You're a dandelion."
They tilted their head back, looking up at her. "...thank you?"
Bedelia laughed, rich and husky. "You want to plant the seeds of people's stability and goodness, but you don't realize you already are. You're just planting them willy-nilly, like dandelion seeds blown by the wind, letting kindness float out into the world. Your reckless love lands and grows all over the land. And you really don't need to worry that any one gesture of support falls flat, because there's a dozen more growing tall and strong and nigh-impossible to root out."
"...awh." Writer's Block Person took a deep breath, let it out. "That's... really good to hear."
"Excellent, you deserve good things."
They sighed. "Still don't really know how to deal with this anger, tho."
"That's my cue." Nyx stepped forward... and flopped down lazily over Writer's Block Person's lap, making them oof. "So nerd, one question." She snuggled into place, relaxing. "Why you gotta be so angry?"
"Well, 'cause of all of this awful stuff, I thought I said."
"Nah nah nah." Nyx stuck out a finger and booped them on the nose. "You're not listenin'. Why do you have to be angry? Izzit fixin' the problem?"
"I mean... not really. But I just am angry."
"Yeah, but that's the thing." She sat up, putting an arm around their shoulders. "You've got those feelings, but you don't gotta feel them all the time."
"That's true," said Bedelia. "You're trying to deal with every bit of it at once."
"Yeah, but..." Writer's Block Person slumped back, boneless. "I worry that, if I don't make sure I feel all of the bad things as they come up, I'm going to fall back into a place where I can't feel them, where they're just lurking below the surface, fucking with me unpredictably." They sighed. "I've worked so hard to get outta that place..."
Nyx sat up in their lap. "First off, yeah, yeah, fair." She wrapped an arm around their shoulders. "Second... you're an idiot." She pressed her fist down and gave them a noogie.
"l;fgljkfd!" They flailed!
"You did work stupid hard, and you're not gonna undo all that work just by takin' a break from feeling it!" A-noogienoogienoogie and Nyx let go.
"I, bu, I..." Writer's Block Person attempted to words and failed.
"It's true," said Bedelia. "Distancing yourself from your feelings in the moment can absolutely be healthy, as long as you let yourself work through those feelings when you have the time and the focus."
Nyx nodded firmly. "I know you hate all that '90s ironic distance bullshit, but there's a reason people liked it." She mussed up Writer's Block Person's hair and they wiggled. "It's okay to fuckin' enjoy it, nerd. 'S not going to ruin your precious emotional vulnerability."
"Yeah... I guess so." Writer's Block Person ran their hand thru their hair and smiled.
Bedelia grinned. "Well then." She leaned down, picked both of them up in her arms together, and squeezed them in a tight hug. Nyx acked and flailed. Writer's Block Person was squished between them, and for a moment, was crushed in comforting self-love.
Nyx managed to wriggle out and hop down, and Bedelia put Writer's Block Person back down on the floor, and smoothed out their hair. "We'd best let you take care of things now."
Writer's Block Person shook themself out and nodded. "All right."
Bedelia waved her hand and the door rose back up out of the darkness.
Nyx hopped up. "Remember when this series was all about getting an issue done in a day? Hah!"
Bedelia opened the door, releasing a breath of summer. "Take care, dear," she said. "Remember, we're always with you."
"I know." They smiled. "I can feel you cheering me on."
"Right, 'n just so you don't forget." Nyx pulled off her sunglasses and gave them a toss, with a spin that landed them directly in Writer's Block Person's lap. "Catch ya on the flipside~"
The door closed. Writer's Block Person sighed, and opened their eyes. The darkness was just darkness again. They flipped on the the light - not the sun lamps, just the regular lightbulb. The closet was just a closet again.
But the sunglasses were still in their lap.
Whisperion looked up from her book as the door to the Zero Closet creaked open and Writer's Block Person stepped out. "How'd it go?"
"I feel better," they said, looking down at the sunglasses. "But... I'm not sure what my next step is."
"That's fair. Wanna hang out and chew it over?" Whisperion patted the couch next to her.
"Yes please." They sat down on the couch, their legs over her lap, and relaxed. They got out their phone and started checking their messages. Ah, Edwina was on another ramble about proofreading on the Discord server.
| ...and, as no messaging client as yet supports the "new paragraph" symbol, I propose that it be created as a transparent image and included in our server's list of custom emoji.
Thank you for your time. - Ed. (UE) |
"...THAT'S IT!"
"Please don't scream in my ear," said Whisperion mildly.
[A couple days later]
Whisperion and Distraction Damsel were having a nice picnic. It was a bit chilly for it, but the sun had come out and most of the snow had melted, so they didn't care. They sat on a blanket in the park, and snacked on sammiches and chips.
Writer's Block Person stood in front of them, bouncing from foot to foot. They were already transformed, and holding their sparkly purple transformation pen in one hand. "So, I had to practice this a lot, but I think I got it down. You ready? Um..." They bounced a bit, caught between excitement and politeness. "Need any more food, or... anything?"
Whisperion laughed and shook her head. "We're ready!" She gave them a thumbs-up.
"One hundred percent up for learning your strategies so I can take advantage of it later!" Distraction Damsel gave two thumbs up.
Writer's Block Person giggled. "Okay, then..." They held the pen out at arm's length. They took a deep breath and...
  ...reached down inside, down deep, it was easier this time, finding that door. They took the knob and they didn't have to fling it open, they could open it just a crack, hold their position and just feel what they wanted, what they could handle...
Click! "EMOTICONVERSION! CUSTOM CODE POINT! SKULL WITH COOL SUNGLASSES!"
A flat CGI image appeared in front of them, of a cartoony skull wearing sunglasses. It flew into their form and exploded in CGI flames, and when the flames died down, they'd transformed.
Their armor was shining white with bright red accents and a simple black bodysuit. Along the sides and back of their chestpiece were vents. Their cape was red, with a line of white fire running along the bottom. On their head, atop their helmet, was a white trilby hat with a black band, held in a rakishly tilted position, and their visor was shaped like sunglasses as well. In place of their belt buckle was a bright red lever, and In the center of their chest was a ruby with the silhouette of a skull wearing sunglasses.
"Yessss!" They pumped their fist. "Okay, and now..." They held out their pen again. "PEN IS MIGHTIER! BONE OF MY SWORD!" Click!
In a fiery flash, the pen transformed into a curving white sword with a sparkly purple grip. Bony protrusions curved out of the pommel, and in the middle, a skull-with-sunglasses-shaped ruby was mounted.
"Ooooh!" "Ahhhh!" Whisperion and Distraction Damsel applauded.
Writer's Block Person grinned under their mask. "Right, and..." They started going through basic sword exercises, stepping back and forth, the blade slicing through the air, fighting against an imaginary opponent.
As they practiced, memories floated into their mind, and they let them come. Memories of the monstrous man, and the things he'd said. Memories of the times they hadn't been able to help. Memories of the people who seemed to sit, apathetic, in the face of suffering. They held their position, letting the anger through as a natural flow, not an explosion of pain...
And as the anger rose in them, the bone-white blade began to glow. Gradually, it heated up, turning a lurid red. Writer's Block Person's movements became more forceful, more decisive, the sword swings accompanied by plumes of steam. They spun and danced, the anger rising and rising, and they used it, and they used it, and it became almost too big to use and...
Their off-hand went to the lever at their belt. They raised their sword for a decisive strike, and pulled the lever; and the anger in their body exploded out into the world, and steam burst from their vents, and the sword flashed a brilliant crimson, and they brought it down in a burst of blinding light.
When the light faded, Writer's Block Person was kneeling on the ground. The sword was white again, wisps of steam rising from the blade and from their vents. For a moment, all that was audible was the wind...
Then they bounced up and shook themselves out. "Whew!" They de-transformed, put the pen away, and ran their hands thru their hair, grinning. "That's better. Sometimes ya just gotta let off some steam."
Whisperion laughed, standing up and pulling them into a hug. "That's great!"
"Good job!" said Distraction Damsel, munching on chips. "Lots of color, ten outta ten."
Writer's Block Person laughed and hugged. "God. I feel so much better."
"Yeah?" said Whisperion.
"Yeah! I can live in this world, face its awfulness, without freaking out. And..." They turned, and looked off into the distance, fist clenched. "When that guy comes back for a rematch-- I'm ready!"
[June 2018, over three months later]
"...REALLY, CAPTION BOX?" Writer's Block Person, in a Squirrel Girl T-shirt and a light summer skirt, flopped over Whisperion's lap. "Uuuugh. I'm worried about that guy."
"He did try to kill you," said Whisperion, petting their hair.
"Yeah and probably I killed him. Probably I straight-up killed him gaaaaaaah." They rolled over, mooshing their face into a pillow.
Whisperion rubbed their back. "Hon, he disappeared straight away. Probably went off to recover."
Writer's Block Person propped themself up on their elbows. "I guess, but why's it been so long? Ugh, I also hate the idea of him just lurking out there, doing shit..."
"He also seemed to be pretty focused on you, as an enemy." Whisperion pet their hair. "I'm sure you'll get that rematch."
"I guess..." They sighed. "I just don't want someone else to suffer for my personal development. Even if it's a demon guy."
"That's fair. But you can't affect it right now. The worry's not useful right now, so put it away and live your life."
"Yeah, you're right." Writer's Block Person sat up, and stretched out, and looked out the window. "For now, it's a new day, and we keep moving forward."
"That's right." Whisperion handed Writer's Block Person a roll of paper towels and a bottle of spray. "And you can move forward by cleaning the bathroom grout."
Writer's Block Person blinked in surprise, then snerkgiggled. "Awwww, but I'm having an emotional moment!"
"Look," she grinned, "you *told* me to make you do it, so I'm makin' you~"
"And what are you gonna do if I don't? Spank me?" They stuck out their tongue.
"No, I'm gonna TICKLE YOU!" She leapt on them and began the torment.
"EEEEEheeheeheeheenoooo..."
On the corner of the dresser, a pair of sunglasses glinted as the sun began to set. Life went on.
----
Author's Note: "Min-young" is a Korean given name. Whisperion's is specifically spelled with the hanja pronounced "min" that means "clever" and the one pronounced "young" that means both "flower petals" and "heroic". Distraction Damsel's first name is Viviana. It doesn't have any especially relevant meaning, I just liked it - which seems perfect for her.
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livingcorner · 3 years
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How to Clean and Paint Outdoor Concrete Statues?@|how to paint concrete garden ornaments@|https://repaintnow.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Paint-Concrete-Statues.jpeg@|21
Whether you’ve got an old concrete statue that needs a bit of touching up or a brand-new item that doesn’t help the Feng Shui of your garden, cleaning and painting outdoor statues could be just the trick you need.
As you’ll find out, servicing these statues is easier than you may think! In this guide, we’ll go over all the steps you’ll need to take to make sure your statue has that desired look.
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With this in mind, keep reading to find out the best ways to clean and paint outdoor concrete statues!
And what are the best paints you can use for painting over your outdoor concrete statues or garden gnomes…
How to Clean Concrete Statues for Painting?
My wife and I have been making cement as well as concrete statues in our backyard for a very long.
The last we have made was of a rabbit that “looks just awesome” (our neighbors complimented).
Believe me, it’s a great proud feel to make these statues and paint on your own…
Well, when it comes to statue painting in a garden you’ll definitely want to clean your garden ornaments before you paint it for all the obvious reasons.
For starters, leaving debris on your statue before painting it can lead to an uneven (and unattractive) paint job that certainly won’t be turning heads on your patio.
Not cleaning your gnome statue could also increase the chances that your paint job becomes damaged, meaning you’ll have to spend more time and money repainting your statue than you expected.
If you’re looking for a long-term fix that will have your lawn looking its best for years to come, you’ll want to follow the upcoming cleaning tips:
Step 1- Remove Debris
You’ll want to start cleaning your outdoor lawn ornaments by using a small, soft-bristled brush that can remove external debris such as dirt and cobwebs throughout damaging the concrete.
Many first-time cleaners make the mistake of using harsh brushes such as grill brushes, which have been known to strip the concrete and leave an overall patchy finish.
Avoid doing this and instead opt for paintbrushes and toothbrushes, which are gentle and versatile enough to enable widespread cleaning of your statue.
For larger areas, consider using a paintbrush to remove large swaths of debris.
To get into smaller nooks and crannies, a soft-bristled toothbrush is excellent at restoring detail to your statue.
Step 2- Use a Garden Hose
Never pressure wash your outside statues and garden gnomes.
Instead, opt for a gentler approach by going with a standard garden hose.
Going with the most powerful setting, you can spray down your concrete statue without having to worry about damage.
Make sure you do so on a stable, man-made surface, as splash-back from the ground can actually make your statue look worse.
As you spray with the garden hose, you’ll want to be sure to attack the statue from a variety of angles.
The pressure of the water should be sufficient to remove much of the debris that’s caked around your statue.
Step 3- Apply Household Cleaners
For a more intimate clean, you may also consider applying organic household cleaners.
You’ll first want to verify that the type of cleaner you are using isn’t harmful to the environment.
If you’re not careful, you may very well kill your garden in the process.
Standard household cleaners are great at getting the job done but must be applied to wet statues.
If you feel inclined after hosing off your statue, you may scrub down the concrete with a safe household cleaner using a small brush.
You can also mix the cleaner into a solution of hot water and brush off the statue instead of using the hose.
Tip: Avoid Cleaning in Cold Weather
Expecting a sudden temperature drop? Then you don’t want to clean your statue.
In general, it’s best to avoid cleaning your outdoor concrete statue in cold weather.
That’s because concrete absorbs moisture, which can freeze, expand, and bust your statue if the weather gets too cold.
For this reason, you want to make sure that you’re doing your cleaning in warm weather or at least in a temperature-controlled setting such as your garage.
Taking care of these conditions can help you keep your birdbath statue safe and looking brand new.
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How to Paint The Concrete Statues Perfectly?
Now that we’ve gone over how to clean concrete statues, it’s time to take an in-depth look at how to paint them.
Use the following information to get your concrete statue matching your desired look!
Step 1- Wash
If you haven’t already, you’ll want to wash your statue with the steps provided above.
Again, be sure not to use any harsh chemicals that can damage the ground or damage the statue.
Remember that some chemicals can cause your statue to change colors, which will pose problems later on when painting.
As the final step of the washing process, make sure that you give your statue time to dry completely, which can take up to a day.
Blow any leftover debris away if necessary.
Step 2- Apply Primer
Once your statue is good and clean, it’s time to apply your primer.
For concrete statues, it’s best to apply an epoxy exterior primer that can withstand harsh weather conditions.
Make sure that you are doing so in a well-ventilated area.
For best results, you’ll also want to wear a mask that will help you avoid breathing in any harmful fumes.
Start by setting your statue on a towel, tarp, or other surfaces.
If you wish to paint the base, set the statue on its side and start with a paintbrush on the bottom.
Make sure the base has time to dry, then work your way up the statue until it has been completely coated in primer.
Step 3- Paint the Base
Setting the statue back on its side, apply a twenty-percent diluted exterior latex concrete paint to the base of your statue.
When this has dried, move upward until the entire statue has been coated.
As before, you can complete this process with a paintbrush.
If you do not wish to paint the base, simply leave it untouched and focus on the other sides of your statue.
Step 4- Paint the Surface
Using the same paintbrush (or paint sprayer, if you choose), coat the remaining sides of your statue with the diluted paint solution.
Make sure that every inch of your statue is covered evenly. This can be difficult if you skipped any of the cleaning steps before.
Giving your first coat time to dry, apply a second coat of paint when you are ready.
Step 5- Apply a Topcoat
Unlike your base coat, your topcoat should be full-strength.
You’ll want to apply this coat everywhere you applied the base coat, including the base of the statue if applicable.
You may choose to do so in full or rather use a stencil to create a design for your statue.
Some individuals find it nice to apply the topcoat and then rub it gently to reveal bits of the base coat.
This can create a more weathered pattern that fits nicely with certain gardens or patios.
Step 6- Add a Waterproof Seal
Once your paint has completely dried, you’ll want to add a waterproof seal.
This will help the statue stay safe in the rain and in storms, giving you that extra protection you need for a better-looking statue.
Make sure to do this after a period of around twenty-four hours so that your statue is completely dry.
When applied, the seal will help lock in your colors and drive off any unwanted moisture.
Step 7- Dry the Statue
Your statue should be completely dry within another twenty-four-hour period.
But you’ll want to keep it out of moist areas for a period of about two days to allow the paint and sealer to set.
Once done, you’ll have a statue that will make the neighbors jealous!
What Kind of Spray Paint Should I Use for Statues?
Choosing the best paint for outdoor concrete statues is highly important so that you can get the job done right.
Standard aerosol can spray paints can be used both for full-on painting and accents.
Whether you’re looking for a solid color or would like a concrete statue that has a bit of a personal touch, you can use standard spray paints.
A pro tip is to use a standard can for your base paint and a glossier paint on top so that you can have a statue that pops.
Acrylic Latex Paint (I used THIS) that’s meant for exteriors can also do the job pretty well if you want something more traditional and cheaper in your backyard.
In fact, it’s a good option to choose from as it can last for years when you do it right.
Plus, it will not be going to harm your backyard friends!
One good paint that I highly recommend is ARTEZA Outdoor Acrylic Paint ( HERE on Amazon).
I use this all the time for painting my client’s garden statues (outdoor sculpture, concrete flower pots, birdbaths, gnomes, and many more decorations made of stone in the backyard).
What Do You Need To Know?
With all the paints in mind, it’s time to look at some information you should know before painting your backyard statue:
You Can Use Regular Paint
Both standard acrylic latex spray paints and regular paint that have been watered down work well for concrete statues.
These paints are thin enough to adhere to the concrete and strong enough to form tight bonds on the surface of the statue.
What’s more, these paints are versatile enough for accenting, detailing, and shadowing depending on how far you want to go with your paint job.
Concrete Stains
Exterior concrete stains are also a great way to get the job done.
These stains come in aerosol cans and act like spray paint to cover your statue.
Of course, the finished look is slightly different, with concrete stains providing a more acid-washed effect for your finish.
Don’t Paint a New Statue
You’ll want to wait at least a month before you paint a brand new statue.
That’s because it takes time for the statue to set and be ready to hold the paint molecules.
Likewise, if your statue has already been painted or sealed before, you’ll want to take special precautions so as not to end up with a bad paint job.
Consider sanding the material and following the manufacturer’s directions for painting and sealing.
Don’t Dry the Statue on the Ground
For best results, make sure to set your statue on a pedestal when drying.
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This will help keep moisture from soaking up into your statue during the drying process.
You may also consider leaving your base unpainted so that your statue has room to breathe and moisture does not get trapped on the inside.
Protect the Painted Statues and Gnomes
Once you have repainted your garden gnomes and have ensured that it’s completely dry, consider applying a UV-protectant sealer like a Rust-Oleum protective clear coat.
You simply need to spray this on the painted statue as you would spray the paint or primer.
This awesome product will help protect all your hard painting work from the harmful UV rays of the sun.
Plus, it also adds a bit of gloss finish to the gnome’s surface.
*Last update on +61404532026 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
Few Additional Ideas for Painting Outdoor Garden Rabbit Statues
You may have rabbits passing through your garden from time to time, but you can honor these little creatures with small statues that populate the area.
Believe me, there are few things that can really liven up a garden more than little statues of rabbits, pelicans, or garden gnomes.
These ornaments for your garden come either finished or in their raw concrete form which is perfect for painting.
From highly detailed, realistic representations to simple, colorful designs that make the statues truly stand out, you can choose whatever pattern you want for your statues.
What follows are a few tips on how to paint your concrete rabbit statues, so you can get what you want to enhance the appearance of your garden.
Weathering
If you do not want to paint the figurines and statues, providing them with a weathered look can be quite attractive.
Simply wash the statues and let them air dry. Then, use a clear sealer and let it dry.
Afterward, cover the statue in stain or latex concrete paint using dark colors such as brown, green, or black.
Leave the paint on for about 10 seconds, then wipe it once with a wet cloth, then again with a dry one.
Allow it to set for at least 24 hours and then add another layer of sealer.
Keep It Simple
In other words, you can quickly spray paint the statues a single color quickly and easily.
Be sure to wash the statue first with clean water and let it air dry under the sun if possible.
Once fully dry, you can start by adding a base coat of latex if the statue will be outside.
Then, you can simply spray paint the statue with the color that you desire.
After 24 hours, apply a clear sealer and it will last for many years.
Applying Patterns
Rabbits have distinctive patterns in their fur and a bit of cuteness in their eyes which can be mimicked when hand-painting the statues with a brush.
You can get the required paint from hardware or craft stores and follow the pattern typical for certain breeds of rabbits;
Lop Ears: Mix brown and white colors to match the popular Holland Lop rabbit
Upright Ears: A spotted black and white pattern similar to the English Spot rabbit works
Harlequin Rabbit: This is a rabbit with a brown and orange coat, so make sure to paint like that
Be sure to use a sealer about 24 hours after completing the paint job. Once completed, you can move the statue to the garden.
If you have selected a metal statue and not a concrete one, then you will need to clean the statue first of all rust.
Then use a metal primer to keep rust from forming on the statue again.
Once completed, you will need to use a rubber or oil-based paint.
You can stick with tradition and go with natural colors and patterns or go for a more exotic look using bright pastels.
*Last update on +61404532026 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
The bottom line
Putting a few rabbit statues (Santa, birds, couples, or any other you like) in your garden will add to the natural atmosphere and help create a world that you’ll look forward to visiting again and again.
The good thing is you can repaint these outdoor statues the way you want and can refresh them whenever you need to get a fresher look.
Instead of painting the old ones, you can also find concrete statues at your local retail or home improvement store that offers gardening implements.
They are rather inexpensive to buy and you will love adding them.
Jack Luis is a semi-retired painter who loved painting his clients’ ideas on their walls.
He had worked as a painter for more than a decade to serve the customers in areas such as Charleston, Mount Pleasant, Beaufort, Georgetown, SC (South Carolina). Today in his free time, he likes to read and write about the newer techniques that are being implemented in his profession. You may read more about him here or get in touch with him here.
Just in case you want to hire pro painters in your local area, you can click here. We can instantly send you free quotes from trusted painters based on your specific requirement.
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source https://livingcorner.com.au/how-to-clean-and-paint-outdoor-concrete-statueshow-to-paint-concrete-garden-ornamentshttps-repaintnow-com-wp-content-uploads-2020-01-paint-concrete-statues-jpeg21/
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surveysonfleek · 7 years
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504.
5000 Question Survey Pt. 25
2401. Does love come from the brain, the heart or elsewhere? scientifically, the brain. 2402. Have you ever given a shot? like vaccination? yes. 2403. Can you lick your elbow? nope. 2404. If i was going to be talking to you for 10 minutes, what would be something really intersting you know a little bit about but would like to know more?? the arts i guess. 2405. If today was a holiday, what would it be? a day were everyone gets to call in sick for work and enjoy themselves lol.
2406. If you were making a mix tape what would you HAVE to have one it? the weeknd. 2407. What do you think of the Sopranos? never watched it. 2408. Can you name three good things about the society you live in? every generally follows rules, respectful, everything ‘works’. How about three bad things? the minority of people who was ignorant, racist, rude etc. 2409. Have you ever had a crush on your teacher? nope. How about your boss? no. 2410. What is the difference between acting like someone in high school and acting like an adult? i guess most teens wouldn’t have the same responsibilities as an adult would have. 2411. What is the differance between a whopper and a whopper jr? the whopper jr is slightly smaller duh. 2413. Do you like: Moby? Run DMC? the Cure? Shakira? Blink182? the Pet Shop Boys? Weezer? Red Hot Chilli Peppers? Nick cave? The Pixies? KRS-One? The Juice Crew? not a huge fan of any of these artists. 2414. Have you ever seen a movie in 3D? yes. 2415. How difficult do you think it is for immigrants to come into your country? it is extremelyyyyy difficult now and it doesn’t matter where you’re from. it’s crazy. How difficult is it for them to become citizens? yes. 2416. Do you have what it takes to go live in another country, maybe for years, where you don't speak the language as your first language? probably not. it would take a lot of work and preparation. 2418. Have you ever died in your dreams? yeah i feel like i have. 2419. Do you like Douglas Adams? Kurt Vonnegut? Tom Robbins? Philip K Dick? Orson Scott Card? 2420. What clothing size are you? 12. 2421. Does science leave room for faith? idk. Does faith leave room for science? idk. 2422. What book should our political leaders read and why? not sure. i haven’t read anything good in awhile. 2423. Why and under what circumstances are people more likely to buy brand names rather then their generic counterparts? some people are just loyal to some brands while other rely on paying more for quality. 2424. What is your favorite glass object? a cup. 2425. Do you like to window shop? not really. 2426. Have you ever loved someone so much it just turned to hate? no. 2427. What is arrogance? check the dictionary. 2428. Are you more liberal or conservative? liberal. 2429. When there is a presidential election in the USA why do we never hear anything about the third party candidtes? Do you even know who they were last time? i don’t live in usa. 2430. Are you more likely to buy one really nice expensive outfit or a couple of cheap outfits? a couple cheap outfits. 2431. If you could, would you wear everything once, throw it out and buy something new? no. 2432. Do you believe that people have a responsiblity to be: good to other people? good at their job? helpful to the earth(not litter, recycle)? aware consumers(not buy animal tested products, not buy products that were made in sweatshops, etc)? non-wasteful (not spend their money frivolously when they could save it to help others)? charitable (donating money, volunteering)? yes to all. Which of the above are you? i’m generally good to other people, good at my job and non wasteful. i need to work on the rest. 2433. How do you feel about the internet? for the most part it’s great. convenient, entertaining and educational at times. Should there be laws and censorship on the internet? yes of course. 2434. Can you think of any questions that aren't already on this survey? no. 2435. Does sleep seem like a little death to you? no lol. 2436. Have you ever seen(and if yes, what did you think of): Joy Ride? Ghost World? Monsters Inc? yeah, it’s a classic. Queen of the Damned? Office Space? 2437. At what age did you find out that Santa Claus wasn't real? about 5-6? 2438. How many pairs of shoes do have in your closet?: maybe 15. Do you like to wear the same shoes everyday or do you like a variety?: i rotate between the same five. 2439. How many lovers have you had? one. 2440. Have you ever had surgery? For what? no. 2441. What puts you in the mood for sex? just the lead up to it i guess. 2442. Have you ever been on alcohol or drugs while at school or work? no. 2443. What do you think of Martha Stewart? i don’t really have an opinion. but i did enjoy her show with snoop dogg. 2445. What do you think of: British people? Australians? Americans? Canadians? Mexicans? French people? Germans? i could totally answer this section but i don’t wna come off as stereotyping these nationalities. 2446. What do you do to cure the hiccups? i haven’t had hiccups in years. 2447. What is the FIRST thing you do when you come home from school or work? get changed. 2448. Are you a slob? sometimes. 2449. Do you have a good work ethic? generally, yeah. 2450. Are you a pack-rat? nope. 2451. Do you roll your eyes alot? not that i’ve noticed. 2452. Do you prefer b-sides or remixes? b sides. 2453. What makes the world go 'round? love. 2454. Is Blink182 punk or pop? both. 2455. Do you remember Fat Albert? yes. 2456. Do you take things slowly, as they come? sometimes. 2457. Are you laid back or tense? more tense i think. 2458. Are you insecure? sometimes. 2459. Imagine you are working in a soup kitchen. You are supposed to give each person on the line a half a cup of soup. When hungry people come up to you do you just end up emptying the cabinets for them? i would tell them to come back for seconds so everyone in the line can have an equal share first. 2460. Why can't we give ourselves one more chance? we can. Why can't we all just get along? idk. 2461. What bands do you want to see live that you have never seen? idk. 2462. Do you like raunchy songs (like that lick ny neck, lick my back, lick my pussy, lick my crack song)? hahaha that’s probably the only raunchy blunt song i enjoy. 2463. Do you think that the Beatles are still the Beatles without John Lennon? never really a fan so i can’t comment. Would you want to see the Sex Pistols without Sid Vicious? no. Did you think that the members of Nirvana were smart to reform as the Foo Fighters instead of trying to stay Nirvana after Kurt's death? sure. 2464. Do you like the band Squeeze? never heard of them. 2465. When you are angry or upset do you know you're being irrational but you can't really stop? yep. 2466. Is there room in your life for one more trip to the moon? nah. 2467. Where are they now: Your first best friend in elementary school? no idea. your first crush? married to someone i went to uni with. your first boy/girlfriend? i’m still with him. your first love? ^ your first lover? ^ 2468. Do you have a lot of self pity? kinda. 2469. have you ever had something really good come out of something really bad that happened to you? not that i know of. 2470. Do you like magnetic poetry? what is that.. 2471. What is one of your secret delights? napping. surveys lol. What gives you a cheap thrill? youtube. What is your biggest guilty pleasure? idk. shopping. 2472. Have you ever misinterpreted song lyrics in a funny way (I used to think that 'wake me up before you go, go' was 'wake me up and buy me cocoa')? yes. 2473. What are the most popular/overused diary names? - 2474. Are you under pressure? yes. 2475. How well do you know yourself? well enough. 2476. Is 'soul' such an old fashioned word? no? Is 'love'? no. 2477. Name a person you love: my boyfriend. How do you love them? Let's count the ways... i love everything about him. 2478. Does your place have a lawn gnome? no. 2479. Do you ever wonder, 'why me'? sometimes. When? when i’m having a shitty time at work. 2480. Is rap a form of poetry? yes. 2481. What's the difference between a player and a baller? lol. 2482. What imagery do you get from the words 'woodsmoke and herbs'? someone cooking. 2483. How many days until your birthday? exactly a month. 2484. have you ever MEANT to hurt anyone? eh, kinda. 2485. What are 3 things you don't know? more than three things. 2486. Do you usually feel physically well or unwell? no. 2487. Would you ever submit your picture to be 'rated' on one of those 'hot or not' websites? no way. 2488. Why are there hardly ever any fat people in movies? because it doesn’t fit the hollywood aesthetic sadly. 2489. Is there any difference between what's real and what's for sale? i guess? 2490. Are you funky? no. 2491. Do apologies always make things all better? sometimes. not always. 2492. Let's just say that there is a huge ass bomb that can blow up the Whole Planet..it is set to blow up in 100 years. You can push the button to stop it but if you do you Will die. You only have this one chance to stop it. Do you stop it? it would have to be proven to me that it’s real first. i’m not gna kill myself over nothing. 2493. Let's say someone else found the button to stop it instead of you. Do you think it is their moral obligation to save humanity at the expense of their own life? it’s a tough decision so i wouldn’t be so quick to judge it tbh. 2494. What's the silliest name you can think of? idk. 2495. It's the middle of the night and you are home alone. Someone knocks on the door and says their car broke down and asks to use your phone. What do you do? let them use my phone but keep them outside. 2496. If a cop pulled you over and asked if he could search your car what would you say? i’d have to see if they’re even allowed to do that first. but i have nothing to hide anyway. 2497. Are you meek or nasty around cops? meek. if they’re breath testing me i just want it over and done with so i can go. 2498. If you were me and I was you then where would we be? idk. 2499. What has been the greatest invention so far? there have been plenty. power, lighting, all modes of transport, internet, all technology, medicine etc. 2500. We are at question 2500. Do you REALIZE what this MEANS??!!! halfway woo.
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sharperthewriter · 7 years
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Locked Together (a Kim Possible fanfic collab between me and TemporaryInsanity91)
This story was a collab between Daisy and Sharper. Find Daisy on FFn and Wattpad @ temporaryinsanity91 and find Sharper on FFn and Deviant Art @ Sharper the Writer. Special thanks to Chris for creating Heehaw the Hellacious Hillbilly. He's a good friend and we both think he should start a reaction channel on YouTube xD Check him out on out on Deviant Art @ tennente. Thanks for reading. Let us know what you think!
Legal stuff:
Any recognizable Kim Possible characters and settings are created by Schooley and McCorkle and (c) by Disney. No profit is being made from posting this story, but the plot and any OCs do belong to us so please contact before copying or translating all or part of this story. Heehaw the Hellacious Hillbilly is an OC and created by a good friend of ours, Chris. Check him out on Deviant Art as Tennente.
The Fanfic is rated PG for brief language
Chez Couteaux, 7:15 pm)
"Hey. Come back."
She raised her eyes from the cloth napkin in her lap, made greener by both the dark liner and mascara that created a soft dark fringe around them, and the shadows underneath them poorly concealed by makeup. Her soft, turquoise blue sleeveless dress made her red hair look even more fiery, and the natural paleness of her skin seem just slightly more tan and golden, especially in the dim, glowing light of the tiny white candles floating in the vase between them. Ron concluded, not for the first time, that Kim Possible was absolutely stunning.
She'd been determined to finish the mission in time for them to celebrate their fourth anniversary, but even though they had been extremely prepared and cautious, the mission became complicated. The villain, one with a ridiculous name and title she couldn't remember—Heehaw the Hellacious Hillbilly?—had tried to take over her uncle's farm in hopes of using his surveillance, robotic animal and farming technology, and land for his evil master plot. What should have been a simple rescue and capture turned into Ron being scarred for life again by a robotic horse, being held captive for two days with no food or water, and a whole lot of trouble catching the crazy horrible hillbilly, whatever his name was.
"Sorry," Kim said quietly, picking at her nails. They were painted white, as were her toe nails, which she seemed to be staring at now. "I had hoped we'd be more up to this, but I'm kind of exhausted."
"I understand." Ron reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. "I get it, KP. But I know you. That's not what's on your mind. Talk to me."
She shook her head, offering a smile he could tell was forced. "It's nothing, Ron. I'm just... overreacting I guess."
"For the record, you said that, not me." She finally laughed, reaching across the table squeezing his hand. He squeezed it back. "I know better. But if you would just say it, KP, I would be happy to tell you how much you're NOT overreacting."
She sighed. "I just... I hated that that weird hillbilly villain diagnosed us so quickly. He knew that you'd be my weakness, or that I would be yours. He knew that splitting us up would be the easiest way to capture us, and he knew that keeping us apart would be the best way to make sure his plan would succeed. I... don't like feeling like I'm a danger to you, that's all."
"Uh, KP... how many times did I get us captured?"
Kim's face showed how unimpressed she was. "So? How many times did I get us captured?"
"Exactly. Does it matter at this point? Look. I'd rather get locked up in some lair with you any day—hell, every day of the week than be free somewhere without you, or worse, be free somewhere knowing that you're out there fighting bad guys by yourself. And I know you feel the same about me. So don't do this to yourself. Don't blame yourself for how these situations play out."
"I know... I know. I mean, I do. I feel that way about you. There's nobody I'd rather be in a shark tank with, or surrounded by evil robot horses with, or tied up in the dark with."
"Ooh, kinky."
"Har har," Kim said, smacking his arm. She hid a smile, but Ron knew that he'd broken her out of whatever dark place her mind had gone to. Well, mostly.
"Here are your appetizers," the waitress said quietly, trying not to disturb them, but also wanting them to move their joined hands so she could set the hot plates down. Or, so that Ron wouldn't be holding her hand anymore...
"Thank you," Ron said absently. The waitress looked extremely flattered, but said nothing. Kim leveled her with an icy stare. If looks could kill, The waitress would have been vaporized. When she was gone, Ron grinned. "Is there a problem?"
"Yeah. She was... looking at you."
"So? I'm looking at you. And I love what I see, to boot."
Kim laughed again, this time looking away as her cheeks turned light pink. "Thank you." She focused on her food, and Ron reached over and stole a bite. "Hey!" She stole a piece of his in retaliation, and her eyes closed as she put the bit of food in her mouth. "Ohmugawshf," she mumbled around the mouthful.
Ron smiled at her. "Glad you like it," he said simply, grabbing the extra plates and handing her one full of his appetizer.
After dinner, Kim thought about that moment for a long time. Ron held her hand and guided her as they walked along, occasionally moving her around cracks in the sidewalk so she wouldn't lose her balance, since she was lost in thought.
The city was, and still is, struggling to rebuild from the alien invasion that almost wiped them off the face of the earth almost three years ago. During the day, various reconstruction sites rang out with the pounding of hammers, road work, and the beeping of cranes and trucks, solemn reminders of how close humanity had been to complete annihilation. The city owed an enormous debt of gratitude to Ron Stoppable since that day.
The recent financial crisis that occurred at the same time didn't help things either. It especially wrecked the super villain industry, as only Professor Dementor was able to weather the storm. Jack Hench, whom built a multi-billion dollar  empire to finance super villains, was in complete ruin.With the sudden influx of funding, newer, darker more insane villains became new threats that national agencies and GJ combined struggled to keep tabs of. Enter Kim and Ron, the ones that had stopped a whole alien invasion. Their help was highly sought after, and between their classes, and cleaning up Middleton... and America... and the whole planet... they kept pretty busy.
In the past, she had always been the one completely in control, as opposed to Ron. She always felt that she was the one taking care of the boy who once feared the lawn gnome in his mother's backyard. But after the invasion, Kim didn't know what to think. Ron was no longer the coward, the distraction, the sidekick. It was a huge adjustment for both of them. Feeling herself suddenly relieved of caring for Ron, she felt that her focus as well as their whole dynamic had changed dramatically.
She was used to it now, though. In the years since, they had come back into sync, despite her personal troubles financing her education while the Possibles figured out where they would live, and his struggle to find what was next for him. Her family ended up buying a new home and rescuing what little they could from the destroyed Possible home, but that left very little room for them to help her pay for school, and with government financial aid being diverted into reconstruction projects across the country, Kim had gotten a job and negotiated with GJ for a scholarship to get her by the first two years of school. Ron had returned to Japan for the summer, honing his powers and spending a lot of time working on himself before joining her in Middleton University.
Since then, missions only got more complicated and more time consuming, and that had added to her struggles as well. But as her website insisted, she could do anything, and she did. With Ron at her side, she pushed through as always.
Their most recent mission had been particularly brutal. Heehaw Hillbilly (or whatever his name was) had captured and imprisoned her uncle and cousin, and she and Ron had quickly followed. The plan had been simple, really. the way the villain had set up security basically required a distraction. With them separated, it was easy to overwhelm them with security and capture them.
She woke up in the dark with no idea of how much time had passed and no idea of where Ron could be. There was no plan gloating or dramatic plan for their demise. There was just darkness. She was terrified that Ron had been harmed. She didn't know where he was and she couldn't talk to him. At some point, she'd convinced herself that Ron wasn't with her because he was dead, and the dark place her mind went to then was what spurred her to act, sheer rage and revenge pushing her to find an escape route.
She found her uncle first, and got him into the control room to retake control of his systems. She found Joss next, and together they tried to form a plan. The ridiculous villain had almost gone through with his plan, and Kim was still preoccupied with finding and rescuing Ron, who had escaped and was looking for her, and in the chaos, Heehaw had almost succeeded in his plan... something about a robot horse army and evil moonshine.
Kim snorted as she walked, wiping at her nose. Moonshine was evil without the world domination scheme, anyway.
"KP?"
"Huh?"
"You're crying, baby. What's the matter?"
"Oh." She quickly sniffed and wiped at her face with the back of her wrist again . "I'm sorry."
"Kim," Ron said, stopping short and turning to face her.
"I thought I lost you," she finally confessed. "I thought that crazy bastard took you from me and that I would never see you again. I..."
"Aww... KP, I..." Ron brushed the fresh tears from her face, kissing each cheek and her forehead. "I was scared too. They had me in this place and I had no clue how long it had been, or if you had a plan, or anything. But now that it's over, all I can think is that what we have thought all along is true. We're better when we're together."
"I'm my best when I'm with you," she whispered. "I need you, Ron."
"I'm here, KP. I'm not going anywhere. We got him. He's not gonna hurt anyone anymore, and he's not going to get us apart like that again.”
She sniffed, curling her fists into his shirt, under his suit jacket, and pressed herself against him. “Okay,” she whispered. “I love you, Ron.”
His arms went around her, hugging her close to his body. He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you too, you know. We've been through a lot, KP, but as long as I'm yours and you are mine, we've always turned out alright.” He loosened his embrace, placing one hand on her hip while the other gently rubbed her back. He kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes, smiling. “Come on, KP. I have something for you.”
It was then that Kim looked around and noticed that Ron had guided her to the entrance of Middleton Park. She'd volunteered there some weekends during high school, but since she graduated, she hadn't had much time to see what had changed since the invasion. The trees that had been downed in one section of the park, had been removed and replaced with a beautiful memorial to the lives lost and the persons injured. The wall where Josh Mankey had once shown her his art had been overgrown with ivy and flowering vines,and the stone path that went around it and led to the lake had spots of grass growing between them. She looked up at Ron, curious. “Why are we in the park?”
Ron grinned. “You'll see. Come on!” He led her toward the lake, and they skip-hopped across the stones, over the grass to the path at the edge of the lake. The path sat at the top of a hill, and they both silently contemplated the sun setting over the lake, brilliant orange, pink and lavander coloring set the lake on fire. A short walk away, there was a bridge that crossed over the stream that emptied into the lake.
The bridge was made of wood, the wood worn and stained by years of weather. In between the wood railings there was a long, chain link fence that was attached just after the invasion. “Remember this, KP?”
“Sure. I mean, it has changed some after the invasion. A lot, really. So much has changed in this park. But this bridge has been around as long as I can remember, and we've been here a couple of times together. Actually, last time we were here, your belt loop got caught in a piece of wire...?”
Ron glared as he saw a tiny smirk pulling at her lips. “Hilarious. I thought that went in the vault of silence!”
“It did,” Kim said with a slightly bigger smile. “Why were you asking about this?”
He smiled and led her toward the middle of the bridge. Overlooking the lake, the trees' reflections became dark shadows as the water reflected the subdued pinks and purples, and the bright neon orange of the sky as the sun faded. In the distance, little neon lights flickered as fireflies danced through the trees, their lights reaching the reeds at the edge of the water and reflecting in the lake's shadows as well.
“This is beautiful,” she whispered.
Ron kissed her cheek in response. “We've been together since we were kids, and I never in a million years thought this day would come. It's our fourth anniversary, KP.”
She turned to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her hands behind his neck. With a smile, she said, “Really? I kind of always knew it would. I was in denial.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Seriously. Josh Mankey, and that Japanese transfer guy, and even Eric, they were all just placeholders. The whole time, there was just some part of me that was comparing them to you. Clearly, nobody measured up.”
Ron grinned and circled his arms around her waist. “You know it, KP. This bon-diggety babe has the essential Ronness that no one can ever imitate.”
She giggled. “Whatever you say, Your Ronness.”
“Yeah? Well then I say we just stay like this until our skin sags and our driving licenses are taken away.”
She grinned at him. “They already took your driver's license, Ron.”
“Okay well, you know what? It's not my fault that that car had the wheel on the wrong side of the road—and we were being chased by evil singing robots! What was I supposed to do, stop at the yellow light? They should have been thanking me!”
“Ron, I was just teasing you.”
“I know. But my objection still stands!”
“It's noted,” she said with another giggle. “Now tell me why you brought us here.” Her smile fell away when he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small box. Tears instantly poured from her eyes, and Ron startled when he saw her face.
“KP, what—what's wrong. Oh—no, baby, it's not that kind of box. Just look at it.”
Slightly embarrassed and feeling more than a little bit awkward, she took the box from his hand and opened it. There was a lock inside. Upon further inspection, she saw that that there were words on it. Tears welled in her eyes again as she read the inscription:
Kim and Ron true love set us free 2007- forever
“KP, we had a lot of messed up things happen to us, and we did a lot of screwed up things to each other.” Ron remembered the morning they talked about her feelings, when she told him she wasn't sure how she felt about his newfound skills. The argument that followed left him dazed and hurt, and he knew that she felt the same. She didn't accompany him to the airport. He thought he would spend two months in Japan wondering if he would come home to a girlfriend, or if everything he had with her was ruined because he finally wanted to make himself better. In the end, Kim came to him, and they spent two days together making up before she had to go back home. He thought it was the best weekend of his life. Until now, anyway. “We fight and we make up, and we save the world, and those are only ever going to be things that I want with my best friend, with my partner. Those are only things I'm every going to want with you. I love you.”
She remembered the moment she saw him come through the door, ready to save her. She was on an Alien ship in outer space. Truly, He would go anywhere after her. More tears spilled from her eyes. “I love you too,” she said, throwing her arms around him and pressing her lips to his. There in the growing darkness, the clicked the lock around a link in the fence, and then Ron handed her the key. With a smile, she threw the lock into the river. She watched it sink quickly into oblivion, and she realized that Ron was right. From the moment she admitted to herself that she would go to the ends of the earth for him simply because she loved him, there had been weight that lifted from her mind and from her heart. Giving herself to him wholly to him was the only thing that truly made her feel free. She never wanted that feeling to end.
This time, when she turned to face Ron again, he was holding a different box, and was kneeling. Shifting, he pushed one leg out and rested his foot down, so that he was on one knee. Then he grinned up at her. “You can freak out now.”
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squidmouth · 7 years
Text
the land of daol
Raina: The night before my and JP’s landing was bizarre as it was happy, because of my friend Tracy’s 13th birthday party. After the party, on that mercurial May 25th, the air smelled of a redolent rain, and I tumbled and danced down Tracy’s lawn, waiting for a Lyft. An ebony Kia zoomed past, splashed some rainwater upon my legs, and the driver rolled down the window. The dude in the driver’s seat, a young, pale, and lanky graduate, said,
“Hey, you’re Raina, right? This must be 116 Siberia Avenue, if I followed the directions.” I tossed myself into the car, with its new car smell and some fuzzy pillows in the back seat. This environment welcomed me, and after I tossed him my debit card, he introduced himself.
“Yeah, my Lyft profile might call me Jerome, but you can call me JP. It makes me feel a little more professional. DO you like grunge, Raina? I mean, I can change it if you want.” I didn’t care much about Green Day, so I nodded in pure indifference. In a box facing me, Doritos, cookies, soda, chips, and fruit relaxed, but I already binged upon Halal hot dogs at the party. JP didn’t mind that I turned down his snacks, and I reclined in the padded backseat, texting mom,
“Hey maman, will b 🏡 soon. JP my lyft just drove onto Oceanview” JP blasted soundgarden, and from the right side of the car, an olive Corolla swerved and rammed into JP’s Kia, sending it rolling and flying into the ocean. When we were about to die of drowning, the car spun in a strange glowing tornado, and everything went black.
I don’t remember much of the dream I had, but snippets of the party aligned themselves within my dream.
JP: That morning, I woke up in a strange white bodysuit, and I felt a pain like every part of my body was getting a tattoo. Raina, the little girl who I had to take home last night, was knocked out cold. The walls were coated with marble tiles with hologram displays and glowing cracks. Eventually, our nurse, a blue-skinned elf chick entered the room, and my gut told me that I must have been dreaming. The woman said,
“Hello, human man. May I ask you to fill out this form, and ask your little girl friend there to do the same?” Her voice had the snarky and burned out sound, and I sighed and did it anyway, whispering, “Jerome Phillips Hinton, birthday: 10/09/1993, date of entry 5/26/2017, species: human… blahh blahhh blahhhh…” When I returned the magic clipboard, the nurse told me, “Jerome, the date is Nekogo 27, 2017. You’ve been knocked out for two days.
Raina woke up after a few minutes, and the nurse turned to her, and groaned, “Little girl, fill out the form. I don’t have all day.” Raina grasped the clipboard, and filled in her information. The tattoo pain I had from when I woke up was still there, and I couldn’t move much. The tired elf lady pressed the clipboard against the holograms, and they flashed our names and diagnoses: “Jerome Phillips Hinton, birthday 10/09/1993, date of admission: 5/26/2017, diagnosis: full body injury” “Raina Summer Cook, birthday: 8/20/2003, date of admission: 5/26/2017, diagnosis: full body injury’, The sound of hooves filled the air, two green-glowing sliding doors opened up, and a gnome riding a unicorn stepped in. The unicorn welcomed us with,
“Good morning, Mr. Hinton, and Miss Cook. I am Doctor Basil Sunwish. If it wasn’t for our healing team and Faer here, you two would have died horribly. Of course, the healing process wore us out, but we placed our best efforts into helping you survive the automobile crash.” Faer, the gnome, leaped down, and dusted themself off.
“Hey guys! I’m Faer! Welcome to Daol! I had a huge homework assignment to open a portal, but I accidentally opened a portal to your world, and my magic grade is terrible as it is.” Faer whined. They scratched their head, took a deep breath, and muttered, “Do you mind living with me for a few while I work on another portal to take you back home? It’s just that my older twin brother and sister are at magic school and their room is empty.”
Me and Raina had to agree, because we had no other choice.
Raina: Dust scattered across the bedroom in Faer’s family tree, where we would have to stay for an undetermined period of time. Faer giggled, “It isn’t much, you two, but you can make yourself at home.” It was an awkward situation, sharing a bunk bed with a practical stranger that was older than you, but JP didn’t mind much. Faer later reminded us,
“Guys! You’ve gotta come with me to the last day of school tomorrow! You’re my science project, and I have to present you guys as my final!” JP nodded, and I was a little anxious about returning to school after I graduated the 7th grade 5 days beforehand, even as a guest, but was school different in the world of Daol?
JP was 6’2”, and I was only 5 feet tall, so he deserved the top bunk, according to his logic. I pounced on the bed, and noticed a small bump under it. I felt underneath the bed, and it turns out, the lump was a large box.
Inside the box, lay our old clothes, the things and knick-knacks we’ve carried along with us to Daol, and a small note. The note read,
“Fixed Up By Yee-Haw Tinkers! P.S. The automobile could not be repaired, so we had to toss it aside. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.” JP became furious and gained pure fear from that little note. He roared,
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T FIX MY CAR? THAT CAR WAS MY JOB! MY LINE OF WORK! AND IT WAS DESTROYED RIGHT BEFORE YOUR EYES? FUCK YOU!” JP crumbled up the note, and catapulted it out an open door that led to a balcony, wishing the wind could send all its stupid and offensive glory to oblivion.
JP leaped onto the bed, and screamed so hard into a pillow, I had to cover my ears because he was annoyingly loud.
JP: That night, I dreamed of fairies in a city in Daol surrounding me. I remember passing by a forest of tree-buildings, and fairies flitting across the place, but this dream was quite creepy.
I travelled across the forest, and different types of creatures surrounded me. The wind blew the scent of pine into my face, and daylight lit up everything. The weirdest part was that I was still in my hospital jumpsuit, and two elves in all brown camo followed me eerily. Eventually, I stopped to play on my phone, and three more elves stopped to nab me, I paused and realized what they were going to do to me.
“GASP!” I slapped the light on, and Raina opened her golden brown eyes, and whispered, “JP, what’s wrong? I was dead asleep!” I giggled a bit, because her bleach blond hair was everywhere, and she looked like Medusa.
A clock nearby glew “0431”. It wasn’t exactly midnight, but it was early enough to be too early. I still felt anxious and I thought about how the unicorns could have been too pooped to cure my explosive anxiety. The window showed a moonless sky, and I was suffering emotionally as I climbed up the bunk bed, I remembered to turn on the light, because if I didn’t, I would feel extremely guilty.
My bed leaked a bit, and it smelled like a human armpit. The armpit-smelling sweat cavern of blankets had to do for the night. I tucked myself inside, and thought long and hard about this world’s futuristic aspects due to magic, and how I survived a car crash. I tried to comfort myself using the method of “Hey, don’t worry, JP. There’s someone else in here too, bud.”, because I had an extreme existential crisis.
This world of Daol, so far, was devoid of modern sadness, due to the discovery of magic, and all my fantasy books on Earth took place on a medieval paradise. Daol had its flaws of its own, as monsters popped up on every corner, and the concept of stuff breaking down after many years was still there. Despite the fairies in magic flying cars, the world had some primitive and Earthly issues. Gangs, tired unicorn doctors, and bullies still existed here.
After a few minutes of thinking about Daol and Earth, I fell asleep.
Raina: Other than JP’s daunting nightmares that shot him and the whole house awake, I had quite the nourishing rest. Mornings on Daol were beautiful, as the heavens were a glittery hue of pastel indigo, the air smelled of pine and maple, and clouds of white with sprinkles of gold rested in the sky.
JP was out of bed, and that left me some privacy to get dressed. I whipped on the clothes from the party: a sepia leather shrug, a goldenrod glitter tank, a skinny eggshell belt, my favorite vermillion denim knee-length skort, and orange strappy sandals. It had to do.
I peeped into the kitchen, where JP, clad in his “I hate pterodactyls” t-shirt, olive cargo shorts, and mahogany birkenstocks, feasted upon toast with peanut butter and jelly, or at least the Daolish version of it. I leaped over to the cabinets, impregnated with fragrant fairy foods, and searched for something relatively delicious.
Picking up a bag loaded with pink berries and grain clumps, I tried to search for some creamy moisture in a gelatinous blue cube with floating sustenance inside. The navy gel coated my arm with a cold blast, and I grasped a bottle of milk labelled (Suitable for Gnomes, HUmans, and Elves) I fished the human milk out of its icy indigo gel cube, and nommed the delicious berry granola.
The granola was wondrous, but the milk was the sweetness not supposed to be in sushi rice. That being said, it was an odd taste unacceptable to my taste buds when mixed with berry granola. Faer scooted into the pink kitchen from the balcony, and said,
“Hey, guys! Aren’t ya pumped? My friends Morpho and Abyssine are going to be when they see two HUMANS FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION! Come on, guys!”
I bounced out of my seat, throwing the yummy granola to the floor and awakening a temporary robot mouse army. The three of us toddled to what seemed to be a bus stop; Faer typed in a code, we landed inside a subway tram, and zoomed to Faer’s school, an array of trees of varying sizes, guarded by a magical fence.
JP: Me and Raina weren’t recognized by a magical gatekeeper, so we needed to sign into the database and wear crazy hats that said, “Hi! I’m a visitor!” We had nothing to do, other than hang out in a tree and wait like puppies in an obscure robot office.
Hours passed, and Faer swung over to the office, giggling,
“Jay! Ray! Come on, it’s lunch, and my friends are anxious to meet you!” We walked down to an overly wide tree, and a fairy and a girl with scales and tentacle hair sat down at a picnic table. Faer invited us to sit down, and told the duo,
“Morph! Abby! I want you to meet JP and Raina! They’re my science project, and they fell through a portal I made to a world where there’s no magic but electricity, and humans rule!” Morpho, the fairy, giggled and squealed, and Abyssine, the “Sea-Dweller”, let her tentacles fly with excitement and her smile. We talked a bit about our world and theirs.
The lunch whistle tweeted, and the three amigos (Faer, Raina, and I) headed off to a tree with autumnal leaves. Faer’s classroom, on the 3rd floor, was scarily round, and a diverse cast of students packed the room. The teacher, a blonde bat fairy, welcomed us with a smile. After three people presented their science projects, the teacher, Nix Wingsley, asked,
“Faer, can you present your project, please?” Faer walked up towards a button panel, placed a camera thing on a projector, and the class watched my car whoosh through a portal, and everyone in the room clapped. Two elves with t-shirts that said, “HP” came up and said,
“Miss teacher, the principal gave us permission to leave school early for uh… dentist’s practice, and we need to take that gnome’s human visitors to drive us there.” Miss Wingsley looked at them with the aura of, “Hey wait, you don’t go here! Get out!” and the elves tackled us. The evil elves from my dream were real!
Raina: “OH SHIT!” JP roared as the elves nabbed him and me. My environment grew darker as they cast a soporific spell upon us. I do not remember what happened when or how I was transported like an animal, but soon, I awoke from a magic stupor along with JP.
A group of humans, more than half of them naked, but all of them frightened, chubby, broken, and golden-toothed, approached us. JP piped up,
“Where are we? And why are there buckets of candy and a scrap blanket on the ground?” A somber human donned only in a white tank top sighed,
“Oh, it’s nice to meet a new set of humans. Welcome to the Homophobe cage, you two! How about some candy… it’s all they ever give us. That blanket was our clothes we outgrew from forced eating.”
JP couldn’t stifle a smile or devour the sweets because of the human’s welcome speech. We couldn’t bear to witness suffering persons of my own species, forced to eat twice their weight in candy, sitting about doing nothing. They almost influenced me to conform to the homophobic will and suffer as they would.
Hours passed and nearly nothing new occurred, except humans introducing themselves to me. At last, there came an event in which our cage was conveyed into a room composed of metal walls and an eldritch abomination that lay at the bottom in wait. The beast had mountains of mouths, brain-like patches with clumps of eyes, and a taste for human flesh. The Homophobes worshipped her and called her “Chag-Pn’gamaii, the wailing maiden.”
A claw descended upon our cage, tossing the roof aside, and pulling a brobdingnagian nudist by the hair, towards the mouths of Chag-Pn’gamaii, who devoured them like a wolf eating a bunny. Our fellow humans squeaked in fear, agony, and loathing, acknowledging their fate.
JP: That night I couldn’t sleep, I just shook the cage bars, trying to pull them apart, but it was no use. The bars were steel, and my hands turned to putty dealing with them. I couldn’t stand it, and I spent the whole night crying, knowing I would die at the hands of a monster. I’d lie in an unmarked grave… and my soul would die in the belly of She Whose Name Cannot Be Pronounced.
Raina kept waking up, as she failed to sleep soundly because of constant nightmares. Everytime, she cried,
“JP, I had a dream about (elves/Chag-Pn’gamaii)” Every time, the dreams were different. Once, she was nude, and the monster’s tentacles kept slapping her as she hung from a rope. Once, she was beat up by a gang of elves. Once she was in the bathroom, shivering as a set of teeth came out of the mirror.
Every single time, I rocked her, and whispered,
“Raina… please… sleep for the two of us. You’re lucky that anxiety doesn’t hurt you. Also, Raina… don’t worry, we’re going to get out of here.”
The fourth and final dream made me faint, but I was off my anxiety herbals for a while, but I felt a bit of it in my system, so I may have been good.
I didn’t dream much when I was unconscious. When I came to, the humans crowded around me, cheering because I woke up. Raina and a boy whose clothes pushed upon his skin hugged me, but Raina’s tanned arms wrapped me tighter.
Raina picked me up, and pat me on the mane and back. My new humans friends tossed me the blanket, though it smelled like the tears and sweat of a thousand sad runners. A man sewed a shirt onto the blanket, and told me about the tradition of the blanket.
“Once, a human was tossed into the homophobes’ cage, knitting a scarf which was the foundation of the blanket. That human, noticing the piles of clothes left by previous humans, had an idea. Thus, using their knowledge of sewing, the blanket was born.”
Raina: JP cuddled up by the warmth of friends, and all I could think of was the death of that enormous human, pallid and bare, and that claw The claw dropping into the cage, like a crane machine, and all I could think about was… what if that happened to me? Henceforth,
“OH MY GOD! JP! I’ve got a crazy idea, but I think it’ll work!” JP bumped his head up, and inquired,
“Raina? Wassit?” I chirped, “I know exactly how we could escape this pity cage,” bouncing on his legs. JP held his cool, even stopping to hyperventilate often. Another human popped up; a woman, paused and whimpered,
“JP, may I come closer? My only friend may die today, and at the moment, she’s the biggest one of us in the cage. Please.” My thoughts lit up, and it seemed as if JP and I could be liberated sooner than when I thought before. I whispered to JP,
“I’ve an idea, but it’s a tad savage. I thought for a moment, and I concluded that we could take the largest human’s place on the CLAW, and CLIMB IT. It could be a beacon of hope for these people, and we could overcome the homophobes.”
We later discussed climbing abilities, and it turned out that preceding his Lyft job, JP was in the mountain climbing club in High School. A fall forced him to break both legs and acquire major anxiety. I was forced into gymnastics class and a middle school gym class.
I lectured JP on our idea, pointing out that because the claw for obvious aesthetic purposes, the surface was relatively rough and crunchy, giving us an easy surface to climb. The claw also sank from the ceiling, and that we could cling upon the robe and wait until it launched up.
JP seconded the motion, and it carried on, as the humans leaped into a chorus of “Raina! JP!” chanting as the claw cascaded down, and JP and I mounted its spikes. JP’s normally olive-pale complexion grew pallid, and the wind pushed my canary curls back. A surge of hope radiated within my heart, and all we could think of was home.
JP: Oddly enough, the claw shook. The monster sniffed out fear and crawled closer to us. I wasn’t going to stand for this, so I climbed higher than I’ve climbed in my entire life. I tugged Raina’s tanned arm, and screamed,
“Raina! Hurry up! Chad-whatever is going to kill us!” Raina jumped up on the chain, and climbed halfway up to my place on the chain, and clung to it. When the claw began to fly, a familiar sound, now bursted monotonically and louder than I remember,
“Weight displaced off chain. Continue to lift.” A sliding metal door flew open, and it turned out the room where the reward for sweet escape was… a janitor’s closet?
I wish to admit this now, but that was the longest leap of faith I had made since I was born. The room was coated with floating glowing beads similar to christmas lights, and the smell of dust filled my nose. The walls had ancient (at the time) computers, and a nearby door was left ajar, letting some light in. I felt a bit nervous hiding from the crack, because only someone knows what lurked behind that door.
Raina peeped behind the door, apparently searching for guards. I hid in the corner, hoping for a sign. Raina stepped out into the world, but then, she screamed,
“JP! JP! Help! A group of ferocious beasts has me by the hair! JP! Help me!” Dammit, Raina’s in trouble! If you go out there, you’ll die! I thought as the sound of a bar fight between Satan, Cthulhu, and a billion children burst through the halls. And just like that, Raina was gone.
All I would have done to save her… gone in an instant. Raina was left for dead. This could have been illegal on this world! I booted up my cell, realizing what I could do now, and did something booted by sympathy for a new friend.
Raina: After the humanoid abominations tore at my teenage flesh, broke my right arm and my left arm’s fingers, and bruised my face, they tossed me in the cage again.
Those humanoid freaks were just beyond imagination and cheesy horror picture shows. Their eyes, insectoid in nature, with a last flicker of humanity trapped within them, coated their bodies. They reeked of old mustard, cat piss, and burning plastic. Their teeth were knives, and their horns were obsidian spikes poking out of their greyed flesh. All across their 9 foot bodies, were tentacles with mouths at the end.
The cage humans peeped up at the guard-abominations and sobbed a little. I inquired,
“My buddies, what’s wrong? What have they done wrong to you?” A woman piped up,
“I gave birth, and my baby was stolen by the homophobes. When my precious darling came back, they ruined him so much, and he joined the monster guards!” The woman held me tighter than bark on a tree, and the world spun around me. I awaited my doom, yet I felt safe in the cage, waiting to be consumed by Chag-Pn’gamaii for her sustenance.
The howling music of a distant wind burst through the door as a band of oddly-dressed scifi warriors coated with diversity shot the beasts with magical chrome laser guns, stormed the cage, and snipped it open with magic lockpicks.
There, in the midst of the officers, was JP, screaming for me,
“Raina! Raina! Get out! Come on!” I dashed out of the now-destroyed cage, fearing for my existence. An officer disarmed, and chortled to me,
“Kiddo, thank you for helping us find the homophobe base. Without you, thousands upon thousands of people would have died.” JP pointed over in my direction, and asked for a lift over to a very special friend’s tree.
JP: “At last, we’ve arrived” Raina giggled to the cop driving us to the tree. We popped out of the car, and there at the door, smiled a little ray of genderless sunshine.
“Hey guys! Where were you? I’ve wanted to take you home since the day after I met you!” Faer, who was glowing brighter today with happiness, welcomed us into their tree, allowing us to chill out on the couches for a while while Faer brought some snacks. Raina and I hung out on the cloud-shaped couch, and Faer asked us,
“Raina! JP! I remembered those guys taking you away! What happened after they took you away?” I was too anxious to explain, so Raina took the reins and told the Homophobe story.
After the wild and weird tales of the Homophobes, Faer led us out to the backyard, and I was curious as to where my car was, but Faer announced,
“Don’t worry, JP! I’ve sent it back to your home dimension!” They drew a magic circle on the dirt, told us to stand on top of it, used their “science wand”, and returned us home.
At least we returned to the beach near our home. The car was ripped to tatters, and I knew, with this situation, Geico would practically tear off my ass, roast it on an open fire, and feed it to a pack of wolves because of this. After what happened with my mental health, the giant Horrorterror, and her multiple evil seeds, I would have to up my herb dose.
Raina didn’t seem to care, except for the tears that rained from her eyes. She seemed to have a broken look in her eyes, and and she could think of was what happened over the last week. I could sympathise with her, as we were both extremely impacted by the event,
Anxiety flared up again because I needed to get Raina home, and my car died because of something Geico would not cover, not ever. Then, I remembered that whenever you’re at your weakest, your enemies could be there to help you. I called an Uber.
Raina: Kimmy, the Uber driver, was quite open-hearted, and when she transported JP to his home, he requested,
“Miss, can you make a special stop at 758 Sarah Drive?” and Kimmy took a mild detour towards my location. In my house at Sarah Drive, my parents waited sobbing. Alas, I returned to their supervision, gaining the unusual,
“Raina! Where were you? You got in a car crash, and we had cops looking everywhere for you, and they couldn’t find you! We thought you died!” Mom’s makeup streamed down her face, and dad’s nose was almost always censored by Kleenex. Mom and Dad called all their friends, and a great gross times a thousand cars arrived at the scene.
Every newscaster in the city, and JP, pushed so close to me. Paparazzi stormed my house. Forensic scientists had me stamp my fingers on a piece of paper. My visage was spray-painted across the internet, and pastors displayed my story as an example about how God is good and could save you at the last moment.
When I sobbed to them about the land of Daol, few believed me and a chorus of skeptics complained,
“Raina! Tell us the REAL story (a bastardized myth manufactured by a skeptic about me and JP surviving off raw fish in a floating car), not this Terry Pratchett bullcrap!” I exposed pictures of Chag-Pn’gamaii and the tree-apartments. The skeptics booed me, and I knew my 15 minutes of fame sank to the bottom of the abyss.
My summer was destroyed, and people whined that my experiences were fantastic, and that I was a stupid kid with a wicked sweet imagination. I could hardly breathe, and they cracked and broke me. The skeptics spread the bastardized tale across the web, and they told everyone that Daol was a dream, though JP backed me up on it.
JP: After Raina dragged along to gather fame for the two of us, I fought with Geico to get my car and job back, and I couldn’t deal to listen to the bullcrap they flung at me, even though I was famous for one second, which I didn’t even get paid for.
My roommate Tommy luckily got a job, so that was a little lift for the two of us. Tommy also started shaving, using female pronouns, and using the name Lulu Aradia, so at least she was happy.
I would never see Raina for many years, but if she was happy, I hoped she lived a beautiful life. We saved each other’s lives in Daol, but from that day, Raina and I were the fountain of knowledge for somewhere only we know.
Years later, I’m 35 years old, I have a pregnant wife, a successful job at AmTrak, and 2 cats (Beowbie and Princess), That day, my wife, Adora, and I rush off to a parenting down in Port St. Lucie, and the place is packed. I sit down next to a woman with warm golden brown eyes, dark skin, and sunshine canary hair. She is assisted by two people who I assume are her friends, but they turn out to be her husband and wife. The teacher announces an icebreaker, where you say your name, and you say something about you that rhymes or begins with the first letter of your name.
When it’s my turn, I say, “My name’s Jerome, and I like Jazz.” The dark blonde woman next to me gives me a look of surprise, intrigue, and betrayal, all in one piece. Her husband then goes next, and then nudges her to speak up. The woman pipes up,
“My name is Raina, and I had a grandma who lived in Spain-a.” My eyes water, and I mutter, “RAINA COOK?” She sobs, “JP? My name’s Raina Armitage now… I’m married to a lovely man and woman. All those years ago, when you were a Lyft driver, and I saved our lives, I’m a manager at Disneyworld!” I told her that I work at AmTrak as an engineer. When I notice her Spiderman shirt, I know she was right about working at Disney. We nearly skip class to have a very tearsome reunion.
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seriouslyhooked · 8 years
Text
Phone Down (The CS Mixtape) Part 133/?
Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.
A/N: Hey all! This is a short drabble based on a request I got a while back for Emma being suspicious as Killian plans a surprise party for her. I’ve had a few chapters like this in the past, but it is always fun to do cutesy future stuff like this. The song I have decided to couple it with is called ‘Phone Down’ and is by Lost Kings and while it’s not a perfect fit for CS the whole phone thing does come into play. Hope you all enjoy!
“At the risk of taunting fate into throwing some more bad guys our way, I have to say, I really love this job when time’s are slow.”
Emma smiled, agreeing with her father’s assessment entirely. Once upon a time she might have thought this job dull or tedious, but now she enjoyed the fact that they had all this downtime. Paperwork, it turned out, was actually really great, especially when compared to fighting an Evil Queen or a Black Fairy or the Dark One.
“You know when I first got here, this is the job I signed up for. The dragon slaying and realm hopping was really just an unexpected bonus,” Emma quipped, pulling a laugh from David.
“Do you want to take lunch first or…?” Her Dad’s question was a good one, but before Emma could respond, her phone rang and she knew from the ringtone that it was Killian.
“I guess we’ll see,” she tossed her Dad’s way before responding. “Hey, so are we thinking lunch now or in an hour? I know it’s a crazy big decision, but I trust you with such a life altering choice.”
Emma expected her joke to prompt a laugh from Killian, but instead there was a heavy pause that immediately had Emma sitting up in her chair. Her instincts said something was wrong with a silence this lengthy, but finally her husband responded.
“I’m sorry, love, but I won’t be able to make it to Granny’s today. Something’s come up.”
“Something’s come up?” Emma repeated back to him, trying to understand what he was saying. It’s not that she wanted to pry or that she didn’t trust him, but there was something in Killian’s tone that told her he wasn’t being fully honest.
Maybe she was acting childish, but Emma was used to a certain level of attention from her pirate. For all the setbacks that sometimes appeared in their lives, there was one thing that Emma always loved about their relationship and that was how they preferred to be together, and that when they were together they were really there. Killian and her had a shared understanding that their quiet moments were precious, even if they were arguing about something stupid, or too tired from fighting bad guys to keep their eyes open.
But over the past week that had changed. It started innocently enough, with Killian slipping out when at the station to run some unknown errand, or arriving a minute or two late for when they planned to meet for something. Yet the days passed and the signs that something was off grew more and more apparent. Now all of this was starting to become a new normal, and Killian was using his phone more than he ever had in the years since arriving in Storybrooke. If that wasn’t a sign of something apocalyptic, she didn’t know what was.
“Aye. But we’re still on for tonight, right? You’ll be home at five?”
The eagerness in his tone was surprising but it sparked some hope for Emma. There had been a little bit of distance this week, not when they were together but when they were apart. It would sound silly trying to vocalize it, but even when they weren’t with each other Emma knew Killian would rather that they were. This week though he’d been taking more time to himself, which was fine, just… different. But from the way Killian sounded, he was desperate for her to get home right at five today.
“Um, yeah. That’s the plan,” Emma confirmed, noticing her Dad was playing at not being interested even while he listened to everything the two of them said. For a sheriff/deputy, her Dad really needed to work on that discretion skill set.
“Brilliant. I’ll see you then. I love you.”
Those last three words brought a smile to Emma’s lips. She might be feeling off, and worrying about what was going on with Killian, but that love was still a constant. She could feel the truth in his vow of affection, and Emma decided to cling to that as a type of shield against her fear. Whatever was going on Killian did love her, and Emma had no cause to doubt that, so she repeated the endearment and then hung up the phone and shrugged to her Dad.
“I guess I’m up for either time. You going home to see Mom and Neal?” Emma asked and her Dad shook his head and got up grabbing his jacket, suddenly seeming shifty himself. Was there something in the air? Or was Emma just being crazy? Maybe the lack of villains running around was making her paranoid.
“No actually I have some errands to run, so I was hoping I could go now if that’s alright.”
“Sure,” Emma said uneasily, her eyes tracking her Dad and trying to figure out what she was missing. One second he’d been laid back and easy going, now he was rushed and acting strangely.
“Great. Be back in an hour. And if something pops up…”
“You’ll be the first to know if any lawn gnomes go missing or Leroy tries to file a restraining order against Granny again.” Her Dad smiled and kissed the crown of her head before heading out, leaving Emma alone at the station once more.
The afternoon from there was still a little shaky. Emma distracted herself with some mundane activities around the station, grabbed her lunch, and checked in on Henry when he popped by for his afterschool visit, but soon enough her restlessness got the better of her. Emma ended up going on another set of rounds unexpectedly, and as she walked she tried to piece together the puzzle of why she was feeling so strangely disconnected, especially with Killian.
The past few years Emma had gone through a tremendous transformation. She had overcome a lot of personal demons, and some ghosts from her past, allowing her family (including Killian) to sneak past her defenses and see her for who she really was. She’d come to terms with that whole savior mess and come out on the other side, and the happily ever after, though constantly in flux, was good so far. Living with Killian and marrying him were two of the best decisions she’d ever made, and recently they’d even been talking about having more kids.
Wait, maybe that was what this was! Maybe her mentioning wanting more kids had freaked him out somehow. They hadn’t been married very long yet, only a few months, but Emma felt like she could be totally honest with Killian when saying that she was wishing for another child or maybe even two. As a kid she’d been all alone, and though any child of theirs would have a family, it was different to have a sibling. And though Henry had Roland, there was no doubt in Emma’s heart that he’d enjoy being the big brother to some new heroes in training.
But when she spoke to Killian he seemed so interested. Actually, he seemed more than interested, and Emma recalled the exact words that he’d said to her when she first broached the subject:
“The chance to grow our family is a gift I never even thought to dream of, Swan. It’s almost too perfect an idea to fathom.”
After those swoon-worthy words Killian proceeded to spend the night ‘practicing’ for when Emma was ultimately ready to take that next step, and in the days following that enthusiasm remained. Come to think of it things had been so fantastic directly after that conversation that it made the contrast to now seem so daunting. One day they were so together and on the same page, and now Emma was jealous of Killian’s stupid phone. Emma shivered at the thought that they’d gotten here given Killian’s track record of hating said device.
Still no closer to answers than she had been, Emma looked up and realized she was at the library. Maybe she needed an outsider’s opinion, and since Emma didn’t want to go to her parents with this, she reasoned that Belle would be a good choice. As a friend to both Killian and Emma, Belle would have to have some kind of insight, and hopefully her friend would be willing to share. Emma checked once more up and down the street, noticing it was quieter that it’s usual sleepiness, but ultimately decided to go in and see Belle.
“Emma! I didn’t expect to see you today. Everything alright?” Belle asked and Emma nodded before considering and shaking her head.
“Actually no. I was hoping to run something by you. It’s about Killian. Something’s up with him and I was wondering if you know what it is.”
Belle appeared stricken at the blunt question, and Emma instantly knew that she’d touched on something. So it wasn’t all in her head then. That was simultaneously a relief that her instincts were still working, and utterly terrifying because now she was scared of her husband keeping secrets from her.
“There is something, Emma. But before you get carried away with worrying you should know it isn’t bad.” 
Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when she felt the truth in Belle’s statement. Secrets weren’t great either way, but as long as Killian was safe and he wasn’t leaving her, Emma could cope with anything.
“Was I that obvious?” Emma asked, attempting a smile and Belle returned it.
“Oh I don’t know. Some people just go simultaneously pale and rigid like that all the time.” A beat past before Belle and Emma both started laughing, and Emma felt the tension leaving her shoulders.
“I just want to be there for him, you know? Whatever’s bothering him it should be our burden to bear together,” Emma said, her voice quiet but still filling the empty library.
“I understand, Emma, and I can promise you that the answer you’re looking for is coming. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if he mentioned it tonight, and when he does try to see it from his perspective, okay? He means well. You know he’s always looking out for your happiness.”
Emma smiled, loving that Belle was absolutely right. There was no need at all to question Killian’s motives for anything and if Belle was convinced that the secret might be good or at least harmless, then Emma could wait. It would simply be hard because usually Emma never had to wait, not when it came to Killian.
“Thanks, Belle. I think I’m gonna head back to the station and cut out early.”
“You think that’s the best idea?” Belle asked, surprising Emma with the sharpness of the question.
“Yeah. Some days you just want to be home, and today is one of those days.” Belle’s features softened and she smiled.
“Feel better Emma. I hope it all works out.”
Emma thanked Belle and headed back to the station. She arguably could have used her magic to get from place to place, but Emma enjoyed the brisk chill in the air around her and the fact that though things were feeling slightly tumultuous in her life, the sun was out and shining. By the time she was nearly back at the house, though, Emma was once again wary. She hadn’t passed a single person on her walk home and usually she couldn’t stop running into people and getting bombarded by their worries or complaints. To have so much quiet was good for her to work through things, but it was weird for this town. Emma made a mental note to figure that out later and then she walked in through the front door, preparing to call out to Killian and Henry.
“Guy’s I’m-,” Emma looked up and dozens of faces were staring back at her with decorations everywhere, and across the living room was a huge sign that read ‘Happy Emma Day!’
“Surprise!” Everyone yelled then and Emma realized that it must be a surprise party for her birthday that was still a few days from now. Looking at all of this she wondered how she didn’t guess that this was what Killian was up to, and then she felt the tears in her eyes as her parents and Henry moved forward.
“We know it’s early, but Killian thought it might be best to have two celebrations, one for your birthday on the day of, and one for the anniversary of when you came to Storybrooke,” Henry said.
“You mean when you brought me here, kid,” Emma responded as she pulled her son in for a big hug and he laughed.
“That too. Don’t worry, Killian got my favorite cake from the bakery. He said I’d earned at least that with all I’ve done for this family.”
The tears in Emma’s eyes threatened to shed at that, but she shouldn’t have been so taken aback by words like that. Killian was constantly giving Henry his due, and there were few people in Henry’s life who gave her son that much encouragement and respect as he did. It was a beautiful thing to see, and as a mother it was one of the things she found sexiest about Killian.
“Are you surprised?” Her father asked her and Emma laughed, some of the tears spilling as she did. Before she could say that yes she was shocked to see them all here, her mother answered the question for her.
“Of course she’s surprised David, look at her. But you shouldn’t be Emma, because all of us love you and for once we thought it would be good to do something for you instead of you doing so much for us.”
Emma appreciated those words more than she could say and she hugged both of her parents and gave her brother a kiss too before moving away. The need to see Killian right now was too strong, and she found him, smiling at her from the doorway to the kitchen where he leaned against the wooden frame. He was watching her, just watching to make sure she enjoyed herself, and Emma moved to him, pulling him down for a kiss right there in front of everyone.
It couldn’t be too hot and heavy, it couldn’t even really hint at where Emma wanted to go with her husband right now, but it was a taste of what they’d have later, when this wonderful party and these festivities were behind them. And Killian knew that too, Emma was sure of it when she pulled back after the kiss and looked into his blue eyes. They were shining brightly, with all the love she felt mirrored in those clear blue pools.
“You did all of this?” Emma asked and Killian looked like he was about to deflect and give credit to the others when Henry called out.
“He did ninety five percent of it. The rest of us just tried to distract you or picked up paper plates.” Henry’s words made everyone laugh and then Emma turned back to Killian.
“I did a fair amount,” Killian replied and Emma grinned widely. Though she knew her answers by now, she still had a few more things to get off her chest.
“This is why you’ve been on the phone so much? Why you’ve had weird hours and keep running late to things?” Emma asked, though it was more a rhetorical question.
“Aye, love. A party for you demanded a proper amount of effort, though I should have known you’d be aware of the other calls on my time. And as for that blasted phone, you know I hate the bloody thing, but it was worth using it every damn time to see your face when you walked in.”
Emma ran her hand against his cheek, loving the feeling of being here in his arms and in this home they’d made together. Surrounded by the people who loved her most, and the friends she’d made in this crazy town in Maine, Emma felt truly at peace, and happy in a way no one deserved to be.
“I love you, Killian,” He responded with one last light kiss.
“And I love you, Emma. But I did promise Henry we’d get right to the cake. I’m sure you approve of his eagerness. That love of dessert is a family trait after all.”
Emma nodded and that set everything else in motion.The night went on and a great time was had by all, but when everyone was gone Emma  and Killian sealed the beautiful memory of this day with the love that they shared together upstairs in their bedroom, away from the rest of the world.
And the next week, when they all were celebrating Emma’s birthday, it was Emma who had the best gift to give Killian: the knowledge that their wish had been granted, and that in eight months time that new baby that they’d dreamed of would be showing up and joining this wonderful family now and forever.
…………….
This room's so quiet I can hear the sound of silence Right here in your arms And I'm falling asleep to your heartbeat It's just you and I Shadows in the passing headlights And I think for a moment You won't let go of me But suddenly that bright blue Is glowing in this dark room You turn away like I'm not here at all Why don't you put that fucking phone down? Darling, so we could be alone now Can't you just be here when the lights go out Why don't you ever put that phone down? What could be so goddamn important That it can't wait until the morning? You got me right here with my clothes off now Why don't you put that fucking phone down? Yeah, the first thing you do Is when I reach out my hand to touch you Are you hiding something from me? 'Cause you moved when I get close Oh, I hate that bright blue It's glowing in this dark room You turn away like I'm not here at all Why don't you put that fucking phone down? Darling, so we could be alone now Can't you just be here when the lights go out Why don't you ever put that phone down? What could be so goddamn important That it can't wait until the morning? You got me right here with my clothes off now Why don't you put that fucking phone down? You're killing the moment The window is closing It's only supposed to be two of us Put that phone down Please, put that phone down Now I'm feeling awkward It's actually torture You're making a fool of the both of us Put that phone down Please, put that phone down Why don't you put that fucking phone down? Darling, so we could be alone now Can't you just be here when the lights go out And just put that phone down? What could be so goddamn important That it can't wait until the morning? You got me right here with my clothes off now Why don't you put that fucking phone down?
Post-Note: Oh fluff. I just really love writing fluff. Anyway thank you to the lovely reader who asked for more surprise parties. Love love love getting to write worried Emma and then tearfully happy Emma. It’s always a joy. And it never hurts to just throw an expectant Emma and Killian in there too, because baby fluff is just fantastic in my book. Also thank you to all of you for reading and I hope you have a great rest of your day and a wonderful weekend!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39, Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46, Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54, Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61, Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69, Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76, Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84, Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91, Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99, Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107, Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112, Part 113, Part 114, Part 115, Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123, Part 124, Part 125, Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129, Part 130, Part 131, Part 132
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millie-ionaire05 · 8 years
Text
love The way You lie
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Angst, Smut, Mature (18+)
Series warnings: Mention of mental hospital, therapy sessions, mentions of past trauma, mentions of death/loss, mention of other mental hospital patients, mentions of verbal abuse,  mentions of grand theft auto, public sex (technically it’s in the office, but still in public?), gagged, oral (reader receiving), slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie,  I DO NOT GLORIFY THESE WARNINGS/TRIGGERS; THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY, AND DOES NOT RELATE TO ANY OF THE MEMBERS.
Status: Discontinued, Last part published February 16, 2017
word count: 1,881
Synopsis: Consumed with guilt over your death, Yoongi’s trial wound him in a mental hospital, surrounded by bright white walls. The judge has ordered he receive therapy, but the therapist is….different. She brings up all of his memories, forcing his mind to relive every painful moment of your existence, and it only worsens as she digs too deep. But she has a secret of her own, and Yoongi’s determined to figure it out.
01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 
   For Yoongi to say he was ready for his session would be an understatement. He had been standing by his room door for the better part of the day, currently leaned against his wall, his foot tapping against the tile, creating an unknown rhythm that had no real start or ending. His head lifts to the clock, his eyes watching with intensity, the seconds hand making its way around the circumference of the clock three times before the figure finally knocks on his door. 
   Yoongi rips the door open, startling the figure slightly, but Yoongi only gives a small smile and nods his head. He’s once again lead down a series of corridors, his eyes passing over everything briefly, never staying long enough for his brain to properly process any information. 
   He was prepared with questions this time, hoping to get something out of JangMi before she bombarded him with questions that left him too stunned to even form a coherent answer. He’d had her in his hand briefly, in their last session, when she’d admitted how her husband had been. 
   The thought made him frown. He had never asked you to marry him. He had thought about it, multiple times in fact that he had asked his grandmother if she would be willing to pass down her ring. His grandmother had loved you like her own, and she had been more than willing to hand it over to Yoongi. He had kept the ring in a small box, hidden in a larger box filled with his notebooks, notebooks that had become piled together from all the songs he had written. 
   You never snooped through his stuff, so he didn’t have to worry about keeping it in such a place, but he knew that one day he was going to marry you. That day was gone though, and the mere thought had Yoongi’s eyes burning as he pushed through JangMi’s office door. 
   She was there this time, sitting silently in her chair, writing in the notebook she had used for their sessions. When he entered her head shot up, a small smile coming to her lips, her eyes staring right into him.
She fucking hates me and i love it...
   “Are you alright Yoongi?”
   Yoongi nods his head, about to walk to the leather chair when he catches something in the corner of his eye. She had a new item in her room, or technically items. It was a medium sized book shelf, the top of it stopping at his chest, placed in the corner of her room. On the top row was a single rose in a vase, bright and red and full of life compared the dark backdrop of the room. Next to it lay a CD with a funny looking cartoon drawn on it. On the second shelf sat a collectable cop car, a cartoon muffin figurine, and a mini lawn gnome. 
   The flash of a house, it’s front yard covered in horrendous lawn gnomes, filled his mind, a small key knowingly hidden under one of them. He takes a quick step back, his eyes looking wearily at the items on the shelf. 
   “Yoongi?” JangMi says, placing her hand softly on his arm. 
   His head whips towards her, his muscles tensing at her closeness, the warmth of her touch searing through his skin. It had been so long since he had been close with someone, and his body could tell because he could feel something stir in the pit of his stomach at the way her bottom lip poked out in worry at him. 
   “Yeah, sorry,” he murmurs, making sure to walk around her so he can finally take his place on the couch. 
   She slowly walks to her chair, brushing her hair out of her face before sitting down as well. Her hair hung in loose curls, not too overwhelming to go with her outfit, a lacy long sleeved black dress that went mid-calf. Her contact blue eyes shined against the lights above, and he could feel himself start to relax now that they had some distance between them. 
   “Alright Yoongi, i kind of want to change it up today. I will...attempt...to refrain from asking you questions. You can ask me as many questions as you want.”
   Yoongi gapes at her, unsure of how to handle the free reign he's been given. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his mind on track from before he entered the room. 
   “As many as i want?” Yoongi queries, suspicious of her intentions.
“Wait! Where you going?”
“I’m leaving you!”
   She simply nods, closing the notebook in front of her and leaning back in her chair, her legs crossing at the knees and her hands coming to rest within her lap. Yoongi didn’t want to push his luck, not wanting to jump straight into his real intentions, so he chose to slightly mimic her position. He forces himself to relax, his curiosity winding itself so tight within him, he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold himself back. 
   “Why did you pick this job?” he starts, surprised when he sees the corner of her lips twitch, obviously a bad attempt to stop from smiling. 
   “The job at this place? Or just psychology in general?”
   Yoongi can’t help but glare at her, already irritated that she asked a question instead of just answering him with whatever came to mind. Wasn’t that the whole point of the questions? Yoongi lets out a breath, his thumb and index finger coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he drops his hand again. 
   “Both,” he huffs, his arms crossing as he stares expectantly. 
   “Well, i picked psychology in general because i’ve always wanted to understand people. To try and figure out why they do things, why they think things in their particular way-”
   “Were you trying to figure that out with your husband?” Yoongi cuts off, his curiosity slipping out. 
   JangMi merely smiles though, her eyes glinting with what Yoongi could only assume as sadness. 
   “In some ways, yes. There were some things that he would do...and i would just want to understand why he did them...,” she trails off, looking down at her lap for a second before looking back up. “Anyways, i picked this specific job here because what better way to understand than with the people that society deems as crazy? I want to prove to not only myself, but society here, that people aren’t making their decisions just because they’re ‘crazy’. That there are legitimate reasons why our brains react chemically to emotions and why our mind’s neurons send signals that force our body to do things just based off of instinct.”
   Yoongi’s eyebrows come together, not completely sure of what she meant. He just assumed people did things because they wanted to, or because there really was a loose screw or two that made them do things. It just showed how much he understood. JangMi could see the confusion on his face though, so she just continues with her explanation. 
   “It’s like when people get upset. Some people cry, some people act out, and some people just don't react at all. Those are instincts our mind makes us succumb to. And so i want to know, why do people cry? Why do they act out?Or why do they not react?”
   Yoongi nods slowly, understanding her explanation a bit more. He hadn’t ever thought of it that way. Why did he react the way he did? Why did he do the things he would do? These were all the things JangMi wanted to know, too, so that she could help people deal with it. 
   “Sometimes people can’t be truthful. Not just with other people, but with themselves. And why is that? Because they are scared? Or because they are too ashamed? Is it because they wouldn’t have the ability to forgive themselves? Or the ability to love themselves?” JangMi shrugs, as if these were only basic questions and that this wasn’t part of any deeper meaning. 
   Yoongi felt slightly overwhelmed by her knowledge. By her investigative questions that were trying to reach deep into the hidden crevices of everyones minds. The simple realization made Yoongi shiver, and he wanted to get out of the enlarging topic before it erupted. 
   “How did he die?” Yoongi probes, not missing the way her nose scrunched up in confusion, the sudden change of subject catching her off guard. 
“No you ain’t,
Come back.”
   The feeling of having her within the palm of his hand was returning, and he didn’t want to lose it. 
   “Does it really matter how he died?” JangMi says, and Yoongi can hear the contempt in her tone. 
   Yoongi shrugs, sitting up in his seat to look at her better. She seemed to be losing her self control, and Yoongi wondered how much he could push her before she backed away from his questions. 
   “Did you hate him?”
   JangMi immediately shakes her head, her hair falling in her face before she pushes it back. 
   “I had never hated him,” she whispers slightly, looking down at the notebook on her desk. 
   Yoongi could see her fingers twitch, and he knew she wanted to write down everything she was observing, but she had promised he would have the reign today. 
   “Do you hate him?” he inquires this time, looking expectantly at her when her eyes rise to meet his own once again. 
   “Didn’t i just answer that question?” she retaliates, starting to feel vexed at all of his personal questions. 
   “The question before was in past tense. I’m asking in present tense. Do you hate him?”
   She tilts her head slightly at Yoongi, a strand of hair falling over her eye, but she doesn’t show any indication she’ll move it. Her eyes fill with what Yoongi can only presume as tears, but she neither blinks, nor does the liquid fall from her eyes. 
   “No. I do not hate him. I’ve never hated him, and i never will hate him. No matter what he does, i won't hate him. I could never hate him. He’s an amazing person, no matter what he does.”
We’re running right back,
Here we go again...
   Yoongi looks at her, unclear of what she had said. She was speaking in present tense, but as if he was still alive. He thought she had made it clear that he was dead. Had she?
   Yoongi was just about to probe her with an explanation, but to his amazement her alarm goes off. Her slim fingers turn it off, her body turning in her chair, facing away from Yoongi. He wondered if he had upset her in any way, but it had been her decision to offer him lead in today’s session. 
   “I’ll see you next time, Yoongi,” she says, her voice giving no indication of any emotions. 
   “Yes,” Yoongi mumbles, getting up from the couch and heading for the door. 
   He gives one last glance back, looking at the mini gnome on her bookshelf. He could feel something rouse in his mind, and it bothered him all the way back to his room, causing him to lay for hours until his mind eventually succumbed to exhaustion. 
   Next time. Next time he’d get her. 
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surveystodestressme · 7 years
Text
105.
5000 Question Survey Pt. 26
2401. Does love come from the brain, the heart or elsewhere?
the brain
2402. Have you ever given a shot?
yep
2403. Can you lick your elbow?
i doubt it
2404. If i was going to be talking to you for 10 minutes, what would be something really interesting you know a little bit about but would like to know more??
ummm... i don’t know.  something historic maybe.  i don’t know a lot about history
2405. If today was a holiday, what would it be?
i don’t know
2406. If you were making a mix tape what would you HAVE to have one it?
hmmmm, something fun that you can dance to
2407. What do you think of the Sopranos?
never watched it.
2408. Can you name three good things about the society you live in?
respectful, technologically advanced, and intelligent
How about three bad things?
racism, social media over attachment, and ignorance
2409. Have you ever had a crush on your teacher?
I mean i’ve probably thought one was cute but nothing serious
How about your boss?
no.
2410. What is the difference between acting like someone in high school and acting like an adult?
teenagers are just more immature most of the time and adults are supposed to be more mature
2411. What is the difference between a whopper and a whopper jr?
the whopper jr is slightly smaller duh.
2413. Do you like:
Moby?
Run DMC?
the Cure?
Shakira?
Blink182? yeah
the Pet Shop Boys?
Weezer? yeah
Red Hot Chilli Peppers? yeah
Nick cave?
The Pixies?
KRS-One?
The Juice Crew?
2414. Have you ever seen a movie in 3D?
yes.
2415. How difficult do you think it is for immigrants to come into your country?
i’m sure it’s pretty difficult
How difficult is it for them to become citizens?
still prettty hard i’m sure
2416. Do you have what it takes to go live in another country, maybe for years, where you don’t speak the language as your first language?
i think it would be hard but if i tried to learn the language and studied hard, i think i would figure it out eventually.
2418. Have you ever died in your dreams?
yeah
2419. Do you like
Douglas Adams?
Kurt Vonnegut?
Tom Robbins?
Philip K Dick?
Orson Scott Card? idk any of these people
2420. What clothing size are you?
medium
2421. Does science leave room for faith?
i mean, not really
Does faith leave room for science?
idk.
2422. What book should our political leaders read and why?
ohhh idk
2423. Why and under what circumstances are people more likely to buy brand names rather then their generic counterparts?
most people who buy brand name things only for the name not because of how good or not good the product actually is.
2424. What is your favorite glass object?
mugs
2425. Do you like to window shop?
not at all
2426. Have you ever loved someone so much it just turned to hate?
no???
2427. What is arrogance?
check the dictionary.
2428. Are you more liberal or conservative?
-
2429. When there is a presidential election in the USA why do we never hear anything about the third party candidates? Do you even know who they were last time?
because they only try to focus on the two main candidates
2430. Are you more likely to buy one really nice expensive outfit or a couple of cheap outfits?
a couple cheap outfits.
2431. If you could, would you wear everything once, throw it out and buy something new?
nahh
2432. Do you believe that people have a responsibility to be:
good to other people?
good at their job?
helpful to the earth(not litter, recycle)?
aware consumers(not buy animal tested products, not buy products that were made in sweatshops, etc)?
non-wasteful (not spend their money frivolously when they could save it to help others)?
charitable (donating money, volunteering)? yeah
Which of the above are you?
i’m charitable, good to other people, and good at my job.  the rest i’m not so good at
2433. How do you feel about the internet?
i like it, i just know i need to not be on it so much
Should there be laws and censorship on the internet?
on some things, yeah
2434. Can you think of any questions that aren’t already on this survey?
not off the top of my head
2435. Does sleep seem like a little death to you?
kind of? ig
2436. Have you ever seen(and if yes, what did you think of):
Joy Ride?
Ghost World?
Monsters Inc? yeah, it’s a classic.
Queen of the Damned?
Office Space?
2437. At what age did you find out that Santa Claus wasn’t real?
like 13 lol
2438. How many pairs of shoes do have in your closet?:
around 50
Do you like to wear the same shoes everyday or do you like a variety?:
i like a variety
2439. How many lovers have you had?
one.
2440. Have you ever had surgery? For what?
when i was really young, i swallowed a penny lol
2441. What puts you in the mood for sex?
a lot of things honestly.  
2442. Have you ever been on alcohol or drugs while at school or work?
i smoked weed before i went to work before and that was a bad decision idk how people do it every day
2443. What do you think of Martha Stewart?
i don’t really have an opinion
2445. What do you think of:
British people?
Australians?
Americans?
Canadians?
Mexicans?
French people?
Germans? i don’t mind any of them except americans (i am american) and they’re mostly a bunch of idiots and give us all a bad rep to other countries.
2446. What do you do to cure the hiccups?
drink water? idk
2447. What is the FIRST thing you do when you come home from school or work?
find something to do that’s fun
2448. Are you a slob?
the opposite, actually
2449. Do you have a good work ethic?
generally, yeah.
2450. Are you a pack-rat?
nope.
2451. Do you roll your eyes alot?
not really
2452. Do you prefer b-sides or remixes?
b sides.
2453. What makes the world go ‘round?
money
2454. Is Blink182 punk or pop?
a lil bit of both.
2455. Do you remember Fat Albert?
yes.
2456. Do you take things slowly, as they come?
it depends
2457. Are you laid back or tense?
more tense i think.
2458. Are you insecure?
not usually
2459. Imagine you are working in a soup kitchen. You are supposed to give each person on the line a half a cup of soup. When hungry people come up to you do you just end up emptying the cabinets for them?
i would tell them to come back for seconds so everyone in the line can have an equal share first.<---- (what the last person wrote and i 100% agree)
2460. Why can’t we give ourselves one more chance?
we can.
Why can’t we all just get along?
good question
2461. What bands do you want to see live that you have never seen?
oh there’s plenty
2462. Do you like raunchy songs (like that lick ny neck, lick my back, lick my pussy, lick my crack song)?
i don’t mind them i guess? lol
2463. Do you think that the Beatles are still the Beatles without John Lennon?
sure
Would you want to see the Sex Pistols without Sid Vicious?
idk who they are really so idc
Did you think that the members of Nirvana were smart to reform as the Foo Fighters instead of trying to stay Nirvana after Kurt’s death?
sure.
2464. Do you like the band Squeeze?
never heard of them.
2465. When you are angry or upset do you know you’re being irrational but you can’t really stop?
pretty much
2466. Is there room in your life for one more trip to the moon?
huh?
2467. Where are they now:
Your first best friend in elementary school? oh i don’t know, i have her on facebook though
your first crush? i think he lives 30 minutes from me
your first boy/girlfriend? ^^^^
your first love? ^^^^^^
your first lover? he is at his house right now
2468. Do you have a lot of self pity?
nah
2469. have you ever had something really good come out of something really bad that happened to you?
i’m sure
2470. Do you like magnetic poetry?
i don’t even know what that is
2471. What is one of your secret delights?
uhhh i don’t know
What gives you a cheap thrill?
idk
What is your biggest guilty pleasure?
i have a lot of them
2472. Have you ever misinterpreted song lyrics in a funny way (I used to think that 'wake me up before you go, go’ was 'wake me up and buy me cocoa’)?
plenty of times haha.
2473. What are the most popular/overused diary names?
-
2474. Are you under pressure?
kind of
2475. How well do you know yourself?
pretty well, i think
2476. Is 'soul’ such an old fashioned word?
i don’t think so
Is 'love’?
no.
2477. Name a person you love: my boyfriend.
How do you love them? Let’s count the ways…
i love everything about him.
2478. Does your place have a lawn gnome?
i have two really tiny gnomes but they would look silly on my lawn
2479. Do you ever wonder, 'why me’? sometimes, yeah
When?
when i’m having a shitty day
2480. Is rap a form of poetry?
i suppose
2481. What’s the difference between a player and a baller?
i don’t think there is a difference?
2482. What imagery do you get from the words 'woodsmoke and herbs’?
food
2483. How many days until your birthday?
a little less than a month
2484. have you ever MEANT to hurt anyone?
eh, kinda.
2485. What are 3 things you don’t know?
there’s plenty of things that i don’t know
2486. Do you usually feel physically well or unwell?
sometimes, yeah
2487. Would you ever submit your picture to be 'rated’ on one of those 'hot or not’ websites?
haha maybe
2488. Why are there hardly ever any fat people in movies?
because they don’t like overweight people in hollywood, however i’ve seen a lot more overweight people in movies recently.
2489. Is there any difference between what’s real and what’s for sale?
huh?
2490. Are you funky?
funky fresh
2491. Do apologies always make things all better?
not always, no
2492. Let’s just say that there is a huge ass bomb that can blow up the Whole Planet..it is set to blow up in 100 years. You can push the button to stop it but if you do you Will die. You only have this one chance to stop it. Do you stop it?
if it was for real, then yeah.  and hopefully after i have time to say goodbye to my family.
2493. Let’s say someone else found the button to stop it instead of you. Do you think it is their moral obligation to save humanity at the expense of their own life?
i mean, no not necessarily.  it would be a hard decision for anyone
2494. What’s the silliest name you can think of?
kudos
2495. It’s the middle of the night and you are home alone. Someone knocks on the door and says their car broke down and asks to use your phone. What do you do?
if i am home alone, i am not answering the door unless i know someone is supposed to be coming over.  they are shit out of luck.
2496. If a cop pulled you over and asked if he could search your car what would you say?
i know my rights, they cannot legally search my car without probable cause.  and they would have no reason to search my car anyways.
2497. Are you meek or nasty around cops?
meek. i’ve never had a problem with one before
2498. If you were me and I was you then where would we be?
idk.
2499. What has been the greatest invention so far?
electricity, farming, heating, carpentry, etc.
2500. We are at question 2500. Do you REALIZE what this MEANS??!!!
halfway point
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White Property Beer Backyard.
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halinaherlitz7-blog · 7 years
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Drinking fountain Are Certainly not Simply for The Wealthy Any longer Through Homer Grady In.
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