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artblogofanekophile · 3 years

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Thank you so much for the tag, @jhoudiey!

This looked like a nice, simple enough thing to fill in (though knowing me I will needlessly complicate matters), so I decided to do this as a way to ease myself back into posting.

Firstly, here's the blank answers for ease of use:

Veggies VS Meat

Spicy food VS Non-spicy food

Sweet VS Salty

Noodles VS Rice

Mint VS No mint

Singing VS Dancing

Cold weather VS Hot weather

Dog VS Cat person

Big spoon VS Little spoon

Extrovert VS Introvert

Actions VS Words

Thin-skinned VS Thick-skinned

Movies VS Series

Comics VS Books

Good liar VS Bad liar

I believe the intention is to simply bold the answers... But because I'm extra, I'll be providing an explanation where I feel necessary. You may fill it in as you so please!

Without further adieu...

Neko

Veggies VS Meat

Miss Neko is a feline beastwoman, and cats are well-known to be obligate carnivores. However, in being a beastwoman, she also needs some form of a human diet as well. Her preference is absolutely meat, but she stopped begrudging the need to eat vegetables at about age nine.

Spicy food VS Non-spicy food

Cats are well known to have sensitive tongues, and Miss Neko is no exception! Anything more than mild spice and the poor thing will be sneaking ice-cubes out of the Mostro Lounge freezer for days!

Sweet VS Salty

She has a bit of a sweet tooth! Especially cake.

Noodles VS Rice

Rice is generally less messy, and there's nothing more irritating than ending up wearing most of your food, especially for a proud pedigree such as herself!

Mint VS No mint

I imagine mint will have the same effect on her as spice - it's less of a refreshing treat and more like a cold burn.

Singing VS Dancing

Miss Neko loves to sing! Whether she's good at it or not, well... That's up for her company to decide. Even then, it won't stop her.

Cold weather VS Hot weather

While she can manage the sun in small enough doses, Neko dislikes excessive heat. She learned the hard way to apply sun-lotion to the skin of her ears when she was but a kitten! The cold weather is so much more accommodating to her natural tendencies. Ah, a cushioned window-sill, a woolen sweater, a warm drink and the sound of the gentle rain hitting the window...

She could just... nod off right... there...

Dog VS Cat person

"Nya? Surely you jest! Can't you see from these adorrrable ears and this elegant tail that I am nothing less than a pedigree kitty? How silly~"

Big spoon VS Little spoon

Both! I was initially going to say it depends on who I ship her with, but even if she was dating one of the taller characters, I don't think she would shy away from curling in around them and purring against their shoulder to soothe them to sleep. Relationships are about give and take, after all!

Extrovert VS Introvert {It's... complicated}

I think that Miss Neko is an introvert that disguises herself as an extrovert. She displays a veneer of charm and natural charisma, putting forth the impression of a very confident person. However, her sense of bravado hides away a rather vulnerable side to herself, a part of her with insecurities and vulnerabilities that she doesn't want to readily share with just anyone.

Actions VS Words

Words can so often be empty. Actions, no matter how small, can say as much as a thousand words could. Although, if you wished to pair said actions with pretty words...

Thin-skinned VS Thick-skinned

I think it does depend somewhat on the situation, but I think that Neko doesn't allow things to pierce her very deeply unless they come from someone she holds in very high esteem. Working as a server in the Mostro Lounge has perhaps taught her how to let thoughtless words roll off her back... most of the time.

Movies VS Series

If you ask her to sit through much more than 90 minute movie, she might just doze off.

Comics VS Books

Both! Though she definitely gets through comics faster, unless the book she's reading is incredibly interesting.

Good liar VS Bad liar

A good liar to those who don't know her heart.

Persephone Amaryllis

Veggies VS Meat

Persephone finds it incredibly rewarding when meals are made using produce from her own garden! You can really taste the difference in quality.

Spicy food VS Non-spicy food

She's more adventurous with foods than others! She's always keen to try anything at least once. Kalim seemed delighted when she seemed to enjoy the dishes from his homeland despite the intensity of the spice. Even if a few others looked at her as though she'd grown a second head...

Sweet VS Salty

Sweet treats are great! Especially when you incorporate fruits and berries into a dessert.

Noodles VS Rice

Being someone who likes to work in the dirt when tending to plants, she doesn't really care much if she gets her clothes dirty from slurping noodles. Keeping her clothes spotless aren't a huge priority for her - stains just bring back fun memories.

Mint VS No mint

A little can go a long way, bringing a dish together to feel light yet fulfilling. Easy to overdo, however!

Singing VS Dancing

Being a rather animated person, she often has a lot of pent up energy! Who cares if you look silly, so long as you're having fun?

Cold weather VS Hot weather

Warm weather is Persephone's element. There's no better time to go for a long walk outside and take in the beauty of nature, wading through long grass, sitting in the shade of a tree, watching the gentle breeze sway the budding flowers to and fro. The soft caress of the sun as it cascades over your skin... what could be better than that?

Dog VS Cat person

Both animals are wonderful as far as Seph is concerned! They both have their own unique characteristics as a species that make them charming, though perhaps a dog might suit Persephone a bit more as a pet because dogs tend to match her energy more, and she could take a dog out on her adventures with her. Fancy getting a cat that isn't Neko into a harness!

Big spoon VS Little spoon

She has a protective and nurturing side to her as well. Sometimes all you need is someone to hold you close and be present with you in that moment. Seph may be a high-energy person, but she also knows when to mellow out and simply let a moment pass comfortably with peace. Nothing need be said, only felt. I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere.

Extrovert VS Introvert

And extrovert, through and through! She has no qualms about going up and introducing herself with confidence and enthusiasm. Anything new, she will readily and cheerfully throw herself into it. She tends to be quite open and upfront about her positions and feelings on matters and people... there are few things that she feels the need to hide, but that's the same for everyone, isn't it? No one is entitled to her deepest secrets, it makes the version of her she shows to other people no less authentic.

Actions VS Words

Growing up, she learned that people liked to excuse their actions with words. She thinks it's best to let your actions and the way you treat others do the talking for you. Small gifts, body language, physical touch, small acts of service... That's her love language.

Thin-skinned VS Thick-skinned

There is nothing you could say to her that her mother or herself hasn't already. You'll have to try pretty hard or be pretty close to hurt Persephone Amaryllis.

Movies VS Series

Movies have so little time to really explore the world and characters! A series can offer more insight at a far less rushed pace than movies can, and you get so much more growth in a series than in a film. They feel more satisfying to Persephone.

Comics VS Books

There's just something so satisfying about the sound of a page turning, the scent of paper and ink, and a typewritten font...

Good liar VS Bad liar

Strict mothers make convincing liars.

Robin Redfearn

Veggies VS Meat

It takes both to make a wholesome, hearty meal!

Spicy food VS Non-spicy food

Robin is used to her grandmother's traditional cooking, where sadly the most spicy seasoning is probably pepper...

Sweet VS Salty

There's nothing like a nice trifle after dinner to hit the spot.

Noodles VS Rice

She prefers white rice because it soaks up the sauce in a dish, giving it more flavour.

Mint VS No mint

A little bit of mint is fine. Just not so intense that it makes her eyes water!

Singing VS Dancing

True to her namesake, Robin loves to sing and has quite a nice voice! She often sings while she does chores or schoolwork. If you make it known that you're listening, though, she'll trail off, turn red and quickly go back to her business but in silence.

Cold weather VS Hot weather

Many a winter night was spent cuddled up on her grandma's knee in front of the fireplace as it crackled and roared, the falling snow faint through the frosted windowpanes, the dog at her feet. Her grandmother's soft voice humming her a lullaby as she fought sleep but always eventually succumbed. These memories hold such a special place in her heart.

Dog VS Cat person

She's fond of dogs because of her grandmother's Scottish Terrier!

Also she's shipped with Jack, how can she not like dogs lol

Big spoon VS Little spoon

I don't think poor little Robin could be a big spoon if she tried... though the idea of her trying to spoon Jack is kind of hilarious. But no, I think that she would feel safe and content being in the arms of the person she loves, feeling his breath against the nape of her neck as his warmth envelops her. Lured into a secure, peaceful sleep, much like the roaring fireplace back home...

Extrovert VS Introvert

Robin is quite shy and timid at first, and while she does work on becoming more confident and assertive... she still can't quite manage to be as outspoken and energetic as Persephone. She likes smaller social gatherings, and if asked to attend larger ones, she generally sticks with a small, familiar group and tries to have a good time!

Actions VS Words

Both are necessary. Communication is an important part of any relationship. Telling someone she loves them, though nerve wracking to start, will eventually come to be as natural as breathing to her. She also shows love usually through cooking or baking. She'll purposefully make more than she needs to so she can give others what's left over, and omurice with a heart-shaped squirt of ketchup? You'd best believe it.

Thin-skinned VS Thick-skinned

Admittedly, she can be pretty easily discouraged and hurt. It's something that she knows is an issue and she's working on not taking things to heart so much. Easier said than done.

Movies VS Series

She doesn't really watch much TV. She gets more absorbed by books.

Comics VS Books

Having lived a rather sheltered life before she somehow ended up in NRC, she often found escapism in the form of fantasy books. Who would have thought that she would be walking amongst wizards and magicians, not unlike the ones in those childhood stories? Certainly not Robin!

Good liar VS Bad liar

Honestly if she had to lie she would probably just do it by omission or being very selective about the information she shares. Her grandmother had this look that always somehow managed to make a confession spill from her lips in mere moments... Sometimes Robin wonders if her Grandma might have been a magician...

This was fun, if not a bit long-winded... my apologies. I just get so into it! I hope it's not bothersome to read.

Tagging: @mopotatoes, @shadowwalker593, @goudsreblogzone, @junowritings, @kotobukicutie

And anybody else who would like to participate! To those I have tagged, please don't feel pressured to fill this out (certainly not in the amount of detail I went to) if you don't want to. I'm just interested to see what your answers are for your characters. If you're not comfortable sharing, that's totally fine. No pressure at all. <3

#tag game #twst ocs #robin redfearn #neko #persephone amaryllis #three in one!

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oikawa-tuwu · 3 years

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Sitting Room (gn!Reader x Tendou)

Rated T, 2.3k words

Not Home for the Holidays Masterlist

"We're snowed in."

Once upon a time, waking up to a winter wonderland of snow outside your window was something to be excited about. It was the first snow of winter, a sign that the holidays were soon to come! Time to make snowmen and drink hot chocolate and bring out the big old bin of decorations from the attic!

Now, some decade and a half later, all the sight of the snow does is fill you with an inescapable dread.

Someone has to scrape the snow off those sidewalks. Someone has to worry about the heavy snow bringing down a power line. Someone has to put salt on the pavement to prevent ice so someone doesn’t get sued.

And yes, that someone is you, so you roll out of bed, into your best winter clothes, and hurry downstairs. If you’re fast, maybe you can get most of it done before you need to make breakfast. It's not a huge rush; you only have one guest right now, a tall man with red hair, and from the last couple days, you already know likes to sleep in. This snow, however, needs to be gone before your new guest arrives today, so snow first, then breakfast.

You take a deep breath, embracing the warmth of the house for just one last measly second, and go to open the front door.

It doesn’t budge.

Frowning, you double-check the lock, making sure the deadbolt is in the correct position. It is, so you try the door again.

It doesn’t budge.

You push harder.

It. Doesn’t. Budge.

With a grunt, you shove your entire body, every ounce of force you can manage, half-asleep, at seven in the morning, against the door.

It budges. Just a little, just a tiny crack through which you can see the… four feet of snow.

You’re snowed in.

Wonderful .

Shedding your winter gear as you go, you make your way to the sitting room, trying to figure out the next step. Maybe you could call for help? Pay a couple local teenagers to shovel your door free? You have to let your guests in and out somehow , what the hell were you going to do about this new guest-

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Your work phone, so you dig it out of your five million layers, answering the call without even reading the caller ID.

“I have to cancel my reservation,” says the voice. “My train got cancelled because of the snow.”

You hang up the call with mixed feelings. That solves some of the urgency, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed about the missing income. Still, it gives you time to breathe, and think, and you hold your head in your hands for comfort.

You’re sitting there for so long (maybe you accidentally fell back asleep?), that when you look up, you jump. Your guest is awake, leaning against the entryway into the sitting room, one confused eyebrow cocked as he looks you up and down.

“We’re snowed in,” you say.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” he says, nonchalant. He shrugs, gestures to the television above the fireplace. “I can entertain myself.”

For a second, just a single second, you allow yourself to feel relieved. Maybe you’ll get through this after all.

And with that, the power goes out.

“ Fuck. ”

It’s a delicate dance, carefully avoiding being in the same room as your lone guest.

It’s nothing against the guy, Tendou, you believe his name is, but it's… awkward. You can’t leave, you have to use flashlights to get around due to the lack of electricity and lack of sun (thanks again, snow), and you’re lowkey convinced that you’re living in a horror movie, because sometimes you’ll turn around without realizing he followed you into the kitchen and all you see is tall and red and oh my god , oh! It's just Tendou. Again.

You do what chores you can. Changing bedsheets with a flashlight in your teeth, setting out a couple ingredients for dinner (thank god you have a gas stove and can cook dinner at all), vacuuming downstairs ( battery-powered vacuum, thank god), etc.

The lights still don’t turn on.

In all honesty, with the holidays and this storm and on a Saturday , who knows how quickly they’ll get them up and running again.

You check the time.

It’s only eleven.

“Fuck. ”

Lunch is sandwiches. Normally, you don’t serve lunch, as most of your guests choose to go out themselves to get it, but that’s, unfortunately, not possible on this fine day. So instead, you throw together a couple cold sandwiches and bring them out to the sitting room.

Tendou is in there already, lounging on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone. At this point, most of the clouds have receded, so, from the light filtering in through the windows, you can see him without need of a flashlight. It’s a welcome change from the narrow beam that only seemed to pick up his ginormous red hair. When he notices you approaching, he clicks off his phone, and doesn’t quite smile out of joy, but gives an awkward, thankful half-smile, as he accepts the plate of food.

Halfway through your sandwich, the silence starts to grate on you.

“Sorry,” you say, setting down your sandwich. “I guess this isn’t how you imagined your holiday going.”

Tendou shrugs. “You can’t control the weather. Besides, I’m not sure what else I would be doing. I booked this trip on a whim.”

“Really? You don’t have anything that you wanted to do while you were out here?”

Tendou ponders the question, chewing on it like he chewed on his sandwich. Finally, he says, “Maybe eat. Find a local sweets shop.”

“There’s one on main street in town,” you say, and your mouth waters remembering some of the treats you’ve bought there. “They’re very good.”

“Good to know.”

It falls silent again (god, were you tired of the silent ), without even the ever-present hum of electronics to distract. You’re debating between your lackluster prepared get-to-know-you questions (top contenders are What do you do for work? and What’s your favorite food? ), when suddenly and without precursor, Tendou throws down his sandwich.

“I’m bored,” he announces, with the disbelief of a man that had never been bored before in his life. “I lied, I can’t entertain myself. Let’s say the snow never melts, lights never come on, what’s our game plan?

You snort. “ Our game plan? Please, after day three it's every person for themselves.”

“I like the way you think, that fear of being murdered will keep things interesting.”

“Exactly.”

Tendou laughs, gleefully. He laughs, and you realize very quickly that you want to make him do that again.

“I’d bet,” Tendou says, leaning back in his loveseat, a challenge in the curl of his lip. “Thirty-six hours in, one of us is jumping off a balcony to take out chances in the snow.”

“What, you think we can’t handle being around each other alone for thirty-six hours?”

Tendou shrugs. “You did threaten to kill me, your perfectly innocent guest, not thirty seconds ago.”

“Please don’t put that in your review.”

There it is again. That laugh. You’ve only seen it twice now, but you’ve already decided you like the way he laughs, throwing his whole body into it, an already expressive face devoted to that pure joy of laughter and humor.

Just two minutes ago, it had been awkward, silent, cold, but that that ice hadn't so much as broken as completely obliterated, like dropping an ice cube on pavement on a blistering summer day.

It's not summer, it's winter, and yet the chill of the big old house sans the central heating slowly fades away at the sound of Tendou's gleeful laughter.

"Why don't you have any decorations?" Tendou asks, once his giggles have subsided, and he glances about the sitting room. His voice takes a melodic, teasing lilt. "It's the holiday season , isn't it?"

Now that was a question you had been asking yourself recently. Everytime you walk past the attic ladder, you have half a mind to just get it over with, pull out the box and go crazy with the lights and tinsel, but you always hesitate with your hand on the door. Something about this year just didn’t feel real. It felt like you were stagnant in November, a weird limbo where the holidays never come.

It never seemed to feel real until it snowed. The first real snow that sticks.

Well. Crossed that bridge.

“I haven’t put them out yet,” you say, finally. “They’re up in the attic, I just haven’t had time to bring them out.”

“Let’s go then,” Tendou announces, pushing aside his empty plate and standing from the couch. “Lead the way.”

You blink up at him, trying to catch up with his leaps and bounds and grins. “Right now?”

“Do you have something else you need to be doing right now?”

Fair point.

It takes a fair amount of maneuvering to get the both of you into the cramped and dark attic. Thankfully, Tendou was smart enough to bring his phone with him, so he turns on the flash and directs it towards a group of cardboard boxes. There, scribbled with marker, it says holiday decorations , so you make some noise of triumph, carefully sliding between Tendou and another pile of boxes to reach the decorations. Unfortunately (fortunately?), that means the two of you are incredibly close, close enough that your sides brush and you can smell his cologne, something just a touch sweet, like the first whiff after walking into a bakery.

One hand bracing the box, you take a second to relax. It’s too much, him, this, that laugh, too much.

“Need help?” Tendou asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at what it is holding you up.

You clear your throat, carefully inching around the boxes so that he’s not so close that you can smell that cologne. You go to lift the box, but before you can, Tendou tosses his phone to you, and as you fumble to catch it, Tendou picks up the box instead.

“Could you shine that light on the steps so I don’t kill myself?” Tendou asks, still smiling despite the giant, heavy box of holiday decorations in his hands. Silently, you do, and all three of you: the box, Tendou, and you, make it down the attic ladder and back down to the sitting room in one piece.

Tendou flips open the lid, revealing the mess of blue, white, red, and green.

The both of you get to work.

The first thing to come out of the box is the garland, plastic greenery with little lights, so the first strand goes on top of the fireplace, and as you go to head back into the entryway to wrap the second strand around the stairwell as well, Tendou unearths… the snowman.

It’s an old thing. Small, a little more cream-colored in the places it should really be white colored, with a missing button on its jacket. Where the rest of the decorations are clean, new, commercial, like an artfully staged set for a Hallmark movie, this piece is a little more… homely.

“And who is this guy?” Tendou asks, lifting the plush.

How to explain the snowman? In all honesty, you can’t even remember where it came from. Maybe it was a garage sale, bought as a joke? Maybe one of your employee’s kids had made it, hence why it had never been thrown away. In the end, you suppose it doesn’t matter, because over the years, it became a staple of your holiday decorations.

"Its my snowman. His name is Jeffery."

"Jeffery," Tendou repeats. "Alright."

With a giggle, you take the garland and continue on your way back to the stairwell.

You hear Tendou talking to the snowman, something unintelligible, until you manage to make out the word, "Fireplace."

“If you kill my snowman, I’m killing you,” you shout back, and Tendou’s laugh echoes through the whole downstairs.

When you return to the sitting room, you see the snowman resting peaceful on top of the garland, the centerpiece of the fireplace mantle.

Slowly, the pile of decorations in the box dwindles, and the room looks more and more holiday-esque, fairy lights and snowflakes and candles and garland abound.

Finally, the last decoration, one last snowflake to hang from the wall, is hung up, and the box is empty.

The clock in the corner reads 4 pm, and you wonder where all the time went. Wasn't it just noon?

You glance around the room again. The two of you did a good job, and you’re sure once the lights are on again, the view will be beautiful.

“We did good,” you remark, and when Tendou’s hand slips into yours, much softer and gentler than you expected, you don’t complain about it.

And then, with impeccable timing as always, the power comes back, starting with the hum of the heat making its way through the vents, and then the lamp in the corner flicks on, and then all the fairy-lights, twinkling bright, and, sure enough, its breathtaking in its entirety, and you feel that little rush that comes with the holidays.

You look at Tendou and Tendou looks at you and you both grin.

“We did really good.”

It’s a couple weeks before you check your bed and breakfast’s review page. Probably longer than you should have waited, and immediately there's one review in particular sticks out, so you click the link to read it in its entirety.

Tendou Satori 5 out of 5 stars

owner of B & B threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. 10/10 would stay again.

Successfully resisted the urge to write about Candlenights, you are very welcome. I was also super tempted to roll out the mistletoe this chapter too (it was gonna be hella smooth too), but nah, saving that for another chapter. Maybe I'll write it anyways and post it as an extra or smth. I'll see you in five days for Kuroo's! (Which is actually the first one that I wrote, like two weeks ago! I really like it 😌)

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu #hq #tendou x you #tendou x reader #hq tendou #haikyuu tendou #hq fanfic #hq x you

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himbowelsh · 4 years

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gene / renée, “things we said when we were happiest”

2400+ words

“snowflakes in the honey-drenched breeze”

After the war — after Bastogne — Eugene would be happy to never see another snowfall.

Thankfully, in Bayou Chene, a dozen things are more likely to fall out of the sky, starting with rain and ending with a hail of frogs. No snow down here to force a chill into your bones, even in the chilliest months. Nothing freezes down here — so he tells Renée, handing her a glass of lemonade with an apologetic wince. The sorry excuses for ice cubes clink in the glass, dancing in the pink liquid. If Renée minds, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, the corners of her lips tug back in a muted smile, and she pulls the drink close to her chest.

“It is beautiful,” she declares, for the fifth time since getting here. “Such a beautiful place.”

Bastogne must be beautiful too, at the right time of year. In her letters, Renée described the forests in full bloom, a canopy of green and gold stretching high into the air. She and her sisters used to have picnics there, eating cakes from the local bakery and picking wildflowers to bring home to their mother. The way she wrote, Gene could almost see it; his memories of the forest are nothing like the fairytale playground Renée once knew, but it’s nice to imagine it a different way. In another time, another world, he thinks, things could have been different.

In another world, Renée wouldn’t have been driven to run as soon as the weather turned cold, fleeing across an entire ocean just to escape Belgium’s chill. Gene wouldn’t have received warning just two days before she arrived, and been left to scramble to make things hospitable. They wouldn’t both greet each other at the train station for the first time in a year, awkward in spite of the letters they’ve been exchanging through the war and its end.

Then again, in another life, Gene might’ve never met Renée at all. He certainly wouldn’t be sitting here with her now, watching the Louisiana air turn her cheeks pink, or summon droplets of sweat to her brow.

Her hair is curled in a style he recognizes, but has never seen on her; she has it done up in pins instead of a scarf now. Even weeks of travel couldn’t ruffle her. This was the same woman who held steady as the town around her was being shelled to hell and back; of course she wouldn’t be daunted by a long journey. Renée shines brighter now than he ever remembers before, even when she was a glowing light in the pitch darkness of Bastogne. Her eyes are more animated than they used to be. Her smile isn’t so tired at the edges. She doesn’t wear grief like a familiar shawl, separating her from the rest of the world.

Actually, she’s wearing lipstick.

In a lot of ways, Gene is sitting across from a stranger. He’s never seen this woman before, not without blood under her fingernails and exhaustion shadowing her face. Even so, it feels like he’s known Renée forever.

“Your home is beautiful,” Renée declares, breaking the comfortable silence between them. When she glances over her shoulder, her curls bounce. “When you described it to me, I didn’t imagine somewhere so...”

“Small?” Gene tries.

The corners or her mouth twitch. “Cozy.”

It’s a small house on the edge of the bayou, not too far from his family home... but far enough to give Gene the space he needs. Moving back in with the family was good for a few weeks... then it slowly became unbearable. He couldn’t handle his mother’s pity, his siblings well-meaning questions, his father’s understanding — that was the worst part, because Papa survived his own war. Of course he knows. But he doesn’t at the same time, because he didn’t live Normandy or Bastogne... and no one who wasn’t there can ever truly understand.

As the curtain between lived and unlived, memories and reality, grew more transparent with each passing day, Gene was seized with his own urge to run. He found an old house half-collapsing into the bayou, and bought it cheap with the promise of fixing it up. He’s always been good with his hands, after all... and having a project to focus on helped the open wounds scar over, much as putting distance between himself and anyone who wanted to poke at them did.

Gene’s house is comfortable and private, but definitely ain’t charming. If she wanted, Renée could easily find a better hotel in town. When Gene suggested it, she turned her nose up at the idea.

“Why would I do that when I’ve come here to see you? To stay with you?” she demanded. In the middle of the Lafayette train station, they drew looks from curious passersby— either at Renée’s shocked voice or her pristine European French. When she realized that he wasn’t joking, the surprise faded from her face, replaced by fond exasperation. “You mustn’t be silly, Eugene. After all you’ve written about your house, would you really not let me see it?”

As Gene’s Maman would say, he made his own bed. Now, he’s got to lie on the floor, because Renée’s the guest, and she gets the only bed in the house.

None of that seems to matter now, though, with the bayou’s nightlife slowly stirring awake around them. To Gene, the symphony is familiar as an old friend; he could time his pulse with the bugs’ chirping, and the soft sounds of water rippling a ways away barely register as background noise. To Renée, though, it’s all new. He watches her drink it all in, blue eyes wide; one hand braces on the wooden porch rail as she leans forward in her seat, nearly spilling her drink. She peers into the darkening forests around them, as though trying to make out the source of each noise and rustle. Gene knows better — for his own piece of mind — but Renée doesn’t think like a native. To her, Gene’s world is foreign, maybe a little frightening… but nothing about the brightness in her eyes, or the soft huff of laughter on her lips, suggests she’s daunted.

“It must be so difficult to feel alone here,” she declares after a long silence. “The world is alive here. As though… it knows you, and wants to keep you company.”

The Bois Jacques’ deathly silence still rings in Gene’s ears. He’ll take the bayou’s racket any day.

“Knows you too,” he says, deciding to humor her. “Or wants to know you, at least. Think the crickets are putting on a special show tonight, just cause you’re here.”

Renée laughs, soft and bright. Her eyes flutter shut, head dipping. In the dimming light, she still manages to glow like a firefly. Gene couldn't look away if he tried.

“It’s so beautiful,” she declares again, slumping back in her seat. While not a man to turn down a compliment to his home any day, this is the sixth time Renée’s said it. The Bayou’s beautiful in its own way, sure... but Gene can’t help wondering if she’s really talking about it.

“Can I ask you—” he starts, cutting off when she turns to look at him. The words die in his throat. She’s happier than he’s ever seen her. To take that smile from her lips, that brightness from her eyes, might kill him.

Renée notices his hesitation, of course. “Anything,” she says softly, coral lips caressing the word. Gene swallows past a dry throat.

“Can I ask... why you came all this way?” Before she can answer, he rushes on. “There’s a thousand warmer places closer to home. Why here?”

To his relief, Renée’s light doesn’t dim. She keeps her gaze trained on him, weighing the question for a long moment. Her fingers graze the hem of her skirt, making the fabric ripple. When she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, Gene fights the irrational urge to take her hand.

“You’re here,” she finally says, and turns back to the bayou.

As though it’s really that simple. Gene can’t think past it. For a moment, it’s hard to even breathe. Why me? he wants to ask. Why, out of everyone else on earth, everyone else who can’t help loving you? Why’d you come across the ocean just to visit me?

Sitting still is more than he can bear. Gene springs to his feet, turning to the open doorway. A heavy mosquito net blocks the inside from the out, but the screen will let sound through. That’s his only thought as he slips inside, fumbling for the cheap radio on his hall table. Fill the silence somehow, some way.

A melody fills the hall — something with plenty of strings, and a woman crooning in a velvety mezzo tone. Some love song or other. Gene’s never paid much attention to them before, not enough to name this one offhand, but something about the longing in this woman’s voice gives him pause before he can flick the dial to something different.

When he turns back around, Renée is watching him. She’s swiveled, arm braced against the back of Gene’s deck chair; a smile plays on her lips. “Music, too?”

“You didn’t want the hotel,” Gene replies. “Might as well give you the whole hotel experience.”

“Will you have waiters serving champagne next? Or a chandelier put up in your living room?”

“I think the hotels in Lafayette are a lot different than where you come from.”

She’s on the verge of laughing as she rises from her seat. Renée pauses in the doorway, watching him with those kind, clever eyes. Against the twilight, she cuts a dark silhouette, fading at the edges like something out of a dream. When she steps forward, Gene doesn’t know what to expect.

“Dance with me,” she says, reaching for his hand.

The words reverberate in Gene’s head. They bounce off the sides like a bullet in a steel drum, from French to English and back again, as though a different language will make them make more sense. Danse avec moi. Can he? Should he?

The choice isn’t left up to him. Renée’s hand catches his, fingers lacing together… and some instinct Gene didn’t even know he had stirs to life. His hand finds her waist, gently pulling her closer; their feet fall into rhythm, not daring tread upon each other, as they begin to gently sway to the rhythm.

No one in their right mind would call Eugene Roe a dancer. It’s not his first time dancing with a woman… but never alone, never in the middle of his own foyer.

He knows where all the creaky floorboards are, knows the part of the carpet that’s always rumpled and easy to trip over. These dangers, he guides Renée smoothly past. It’s more than he could do for her in Bastogne. There, they could only press light bandages of sympathy over each others’ wounds, stemming the blood flow for a short time. Here — in Gene’s home, with the air sweet on their tongues and warm against their skin — he can do so much more. He can look after her, keep her safe from that chill… and as Gene’s head lowers, enough for his temple to brush against Renée’s own, it’s all he wants to do.

“Eugene…” She murmurs his name like a prayer. He exhales against her neck, ruffling the golden hairs settled there. Renée shudders in his arms, as though she’s caught an old chill, and Eugene unconsciously pulls her closer.

“I am so happy,” she whispers. “Being here with you… it is like remembering how to breathe again. Since the war’s end…”

Her hand has found a place on the back of his neck, fingers playing with his collar. Every so often, they tease the side of Gene’s jaw, and his nerves spark and shiver. “It’s like trying to relearn something that used to come easy,” he affirms, for he understands — he’s felt it too. “Like there’s a weight on your chest, and it’ll crush you if you let it…”

“But it’s gone now,” she sighs. “For the first time, it’s gone. I can breathe.”

Gene inhales, and all he tastes is her. Renée’s perfume, Renée’s presence — like lavender in the summer, sweet and soothing. When she lowers her head against his shoulder, he feels each breath exhaled against him. They continue to sway in the middle of Gene’s foyer; their shadows, backlit against the fading twilight, look like a single being, instead of two people joined together. I could stay like this forever, Agnew realizes, an odd thrill coursing through his veins. It’s the first time he’s felt like this since the war, and maybe before it too — the first time he’s ever understood what peace means, and how precious it is to have and hold. He never wants to let it go.

He never wants to let her go. To lose her now… after everything… dieu au-dessus, he couldn’t stand it.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against her ear. Renée shifts against him, pulling back just enough to regard him quizzically. The word is her own, but Gene certainly isn't echoing it now in regards to his own home.

“What is?”

A smile tugs at Gene’s lips. Renée catches it, and understanding dawns across her face... followed by a grin that lights up the room, warming Gene up from the inside out.

“You have a beautiful soul, Eugene Roe.”

“You—“ He cuts himself off, a blush taking over his cheeks — not helped by the way Renée’s grin grows. Never before has he wanted to say so many things, or had so few words to say them. Every emotion trapped within his chest flutters like a mercurial thing, flickering between one state of existence and another. If he could put voice to at least one of them, all the rest would surely come… like a flood, rushing out with no hope of stopping the flow. The idea terrifies him.

Instead, Gene only exhales and shakes his head, his own grin tugging at his lips. “I’m happy you’re here,” he says. “Happier than I’ve been… for as long as I can remember.”

When Renée leans in, it’s easier than dancing, easier than breathing. Her soft sigh rings in his ears, even as their lips find each other. Gene’s heart picks up a new rhythm in his chest.

Some churning emotion turns to stone inside of him. Finally, it’s tangible. He can feel it. He knows it, as well as he knows the back of his own hand, or the taste of Renée’s mouth.

Beautiful, he thinks. Yeah, sure is.

#renee lemaire #eugene roe #band of brothers #hbo war #my writing #gene/renee #told you i'd get to it anon!!!

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banashee · 3 years

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Please mind the tags and warnings

Day 5: Silent Night

“Silent night” is playing on the radio - again.

Clint sighs. It’s not like he actively dislikes that song, not really. But truth be told, he might just start to hate it. It’s been all over the radio non-stop. The only times it stops is to make space for the just as endless loops of “Last Christmas” and this is the only radio station they can get here, in the SHIELD safehouse in the middle of nowhere. So, scratch that statement about him not actively hating this music. He totally does.

Turning off the radio or the fact that Clint is almost completely deaf without his aids doesn’t help. At all. The catchy tunes are stuck in his head, no matter what, and he is about to murder someone.

Unfortunately for this urge, there is no one around but Phil, and he really doesn’t want to murder Phil. So Clint makes do with glaring at the radio and tuning it off with a snarl.

“Goddammit!”

“Everything okay?” comes the question from the next room over, followed by Phil entering the kitchen. His reports are abandoned on the coffee table and he looks concerned. Clint is slumping back onto his chair by the kitchen table, parting knife and half chopped vegetables forgotten.

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t sound like it at all. Phil can tell that something isn’t right, but he doesn’t ask. If Clint wants to talk, he’ll do so in his own time, Phil knows by now. The two of them have been working together for years, forming a surprisingly quick friendship. Sleeping together is still new. So is getting to know more about each other, but they’re working on that. They’ve been pretty successful so far.

Phil pulls out another chair from the table, sits down and starts chopping carrots in silence. With a long exhale, Clint picks up the knife and continues to slice potatoes in perfect little cubes. There is no need to be this precise, since they’ll be blended into soup anyway, but he takes his time, finding comfort in the repetitive task at hand.

After a while, Clint breaks the silence.

“It’s just. There’s christmas crap everywhere. Every city, every village is full of it. It’s on TV, on the radio. You can’t escape it. Not even here, unless you shut everything off.”

After a small pause, in which he dumps the potatoes into a big pot, Clint continues,

“I know it’s supposed to be nice and festive and you’re supposed to like it, yadda yadda. But… Well. I’m not sure if I can do that.” He shrugs helplessly. “There is a reason I always volunteer for work over the holidays.”

Phil is listening in silence but with his full attention. He responds slowly, careful to avoid potential triggers. They’re on thin ice, but Clint has opened up that far, and he takes that as a good sign.

“Holidays… Can be hard. Especially when there are unpleasant memories attached to them.”

This is a nice way to put it - he knows the file about Clint, even knows a few more personal details that his partner told him so far.

“I understand. And it’s okay if you want nothing to do with it.”

For a little while, Clint remains silent, sitting on his chair without moving or blinking. He’s staring at a spot on the wall, and Phil worries that he might have said something wrong. But then, Clint nods, finishes the potatoes, gathers Phil’s carrots and picks up the full pot from the table. He puts it on the stove and adds water.

On his way back, he drapes himself over Phils shoulder and hugs him. Phil leans close, reaching up with one hand to interlace their fingers. Clint tightens his embrace in response, and the two of them stay like this for a while. They don’t need a lot of words.

Only when they move to the couch, the two of them let go of each other. They curl up around one another and rest for a bit while the soup is cooking in the kitchen.

It’s dark outside, and there is another blast of wind howling around the house. New snow is falling with it and the small ice crystals are sticking to the windows.

The safe house is surrounded by a few trees, but it’s not enough to keep the chill away that is creeping in through every single crack. Thankfully, they have a working fireplace in the corner. It fills the room with warmth, and the scent of burning wood is always comforting.

Clint is sharing a large blanket with Phil and they are wrapped around each other, dozing a bit while they wait for the kitchen timer to go off. The blanket is hand knitted and lumpy. None of the colours of yarn go together and it’s ugly as all hell - probably the result of some Agent’s boredom, but it’s warm and comfortable and serves its purpose beautifully.

“Hey.” Clint says after a while, causing Phil to raise his head from the shoulder he’d been dozing on.

“Hmm?”

“You know what the worst part is? About the holidays.” he clarifies, and Phil is a lot more awake by then.

“Which part?” he asks, rubbing small circles with his thumb over the calloused hand holding his.

Clint’s hands are some of Phil’s favourite parts of him. They’re broad and rough from the years of archery, physical work and combat. Those hands are skilled in many ways, not just job related, but Clint can be so incredibly gentle, whenever he needs to be. Archery is, again, one of those factors - it requires not only strength but also precision, especially since Clint designs his own trick arrows whenever he’s got the time. But even more so, he is always careful, always gentle when he interacts with other people. Injured colleagues, civilians, children, animals. Most of all, he is gentle with Phil, in so many different ways, and it’s a wonderful, loving thing - a rare sign of unconditional trust.

Phil loves that about him, those contrasts. And he trusts him with his life, just as much as Clint trusts him with his.

They know with absolute certainty that they will always have each other back, never leaving the other behind, in the field just as much as outside of it. Both of them know loneliness, as well as paranoia. And yet, they trust each other enough to be able to give and receive a neck massage.

For people like them, who have had to kill with bare hands sometimes, snapping necks like small twigs, touching a partners neck is much more intimate than sex.

Safety and happiness - they’ve found just that, and they’re everything for one another. Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re this lucky.

“You know what the worst part is? About the holidays.” Clint asks, and Phil is listening.

“It’s that a part of me wants to like them. And I don’t know if I ever can.” His voice is hushed and sad as he confesses this, and it just about breaks Phil’s heart. He leans closer to Clint, until their foreheads are touching.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“Still. Is there anything I can do to help? Apart from keeping the music and decorations away from you for now.”

The last bit actually makes Clint smile a little bit, despite everything. He smiles despite old and painful memories of loud arguments, burning christmas stockings and throbbing bruises. Ringing ears and then, silence. At least he didn’t have to hear the arguments then. Later, all of this turned into nothing but aching loneliness. He’s not sure which is worse, but at least he isn’t alone anymore.

“Stay with me?” Clint asks, and Phil nods.

“Of course.”

They breathe in each other's company, legs knotted into each other and hands gently trailing over hair, cheeks and upper bodies. If it wasn’t for the timer in the kitchen going off, they’d have stayed like this for much longer, but as it is, they have a soup to finish and eat.

True to his word, Phil spends the holidays with Clint in his apartment. There is no festive decor, no Christmas music and they only watch movies on video tape - no commercials, no holiday movies. It’s all perfectly neutral, and they spend the time off like any other time.

Christmas comes and goes, and there is no incident - Clint counts it as a win.

They spend New Year’s eve on the rooftop of Clint’s apartment building, wrapped up in jackets and blankets on the floor. The two of them are sharing a bottle of sparkling wine and talk the night away.

When the fireworks start, they watch them from high up, fingers intertwined and chasing away the cold with warm kisses.

Surprising both of them, Clint actually has a New Years resolution.

“I think I’d like to try this whole holiday thing next year. Not much, and maybe not the whole time. Just getting used to it maybe?”

And he does, for almost every single year to follow.

The first year, it’s okay-ish. They’re working at the time, no way to get the holidays off, and Clint is doing fine while he’s distracted. He’s even okay with taking a walk through the decorated neighborhood, but when they get home from it, he is exhausted from shoving away old feelings, and that’s it for the year.

The second year, they do get a few days off, and they spend them together. There isn’t much they do, apart from baking a batch of only slightly burned cookies and walking through the beautifully illuminated park every night and then drinking spiced cocoa when they’re back home.

They exchange a small gift, each. Nothing too much, so it doesn’t get overwhelming, but carefully picked out and personal. Overall, it’s not bad.

The third year ends in a disaster. If everything went according to plan, it would have been pretty much like the year before, but as it is, the mission they’re on right before their time off goes horribly wrong, leaving too many people either dead or injured and traumatized.

Phil spends Christmas Morning unconscious in an emergency surgery and Clint is in a hospital bed, fighting off the withdrawal effects from an unknown drug that he was dosed with.

In the end, the fact that both of them make it out of this alive is the best thing they could say about those holidays.

In the fourth year, they’re home and mostly unharmed, but the memories from the last year still stick. They try to make it better, spending it much like two years before, but with nerves still on the edge, both of them struggle.

Clint has bad mental health episodes, sometimes more often than other times, and he is somewhat used to it. But around the holidays, it flares up more and more, causing him to give up on anything festive for the year - he’s not in the mood to try. Phil understands, and is perfectly content not to bother that year. He’s struggling with his own bad days, which are more around this time, much like Clint’s.

Neither of them wants to celebrate anything, and it’s all they can do to hold onto one another to keep themselves from falling apart.

New Years is just another day, too, and then life goes on - they tackle it together, like always.

In the fifth year, both Phil and Clint are in good spirits. They get a tree this time around and they decorate it with fairy lights and red baubles - no tinsel.

“Oh god, please, no. We’ll find that stuff well into the next holiday season” Phil pleads, because he has vivid memories of that from his own childhood, especially thanks to his mother cursing over it at Easter when one of the kids found another stray piece behind a flower pot. He says as much.

Clint can’t stop laughing for a good while after that story, and Phil can’t help but join in because his partner's good spirit is highly contagious, especially when he collapses against him with wheezing laughter.

There is no Christmas music while they decorate - instead, they blast 80s hits and drink mulled wine and both of them are perfectly happy that way.

All in all, it’s a good year. They miss the New Years countdown because they’re busy distracting each other in the bedroom with far more entertaining things, and watch the fireworks from the window after.

Many years down the road, “Silent Night” plays on the radio while Phil and Clint are creating a tornado in the kitchen.

They’re baking cookies for the holidays, and there is flour everywhere, including handprints all over the back of Clint's shirt and two in a perfect grabbing pattern on the ass of Phil’s pants. They’re laughing and giggling like teenagers in love, despite being together for so long - their twelve-year anniversary just passed two months before, and they spent the week in a spa hotel upstate.

When the festive song starts, Clint isn’t bothered at all. He simply smiles, pulling Phil into a kiss. What he doesn’t expect is for him to turn the embrace into a slow dance all over the room.

“You’re such a sap” he accuses, with nothing but affection in his voice.

“Me? Never.” The twinkle in his eyes betrays Phil, and it only makes Clint laugh more. He doesn’t mind though - he doesn’t mind at all.

Once upon a time, a scenario like this would have been unthinkable for Clint.

He never thought he could enjoy the holiday time, let alone with a loving and supportive partner like Phil. He’s got so much to thank him for, but he’s not about to start that now. In fact, he’s already got a list.

A list which may or may not have been part of his vows in a very private ceremony just a few years ago - same date as their relationship anniversary - they can only fit so many events into their schedule. It’s practical.

Said vows may or may not have caused everyone involved to burst into tears, but that is strictly need-to-know basis.

Snow is falling outside their windows, making New York a lot more beautiful than it usually is. It’s warm inside, the heavenly scent of cookies is in the air, but most of all, they have each other. They’re as happy and comfortable as they can be, and the small, matching gold bands on their fingers catch the light while they dance around the kitchen.

*+~

This is a writing challenge set up by AJ Woolfenden on Instagram, starting on December 14th. One word per day for a week. Works shared have to use #writingweek

https://www.instagram.com/p/CILEG_agRzF/?igshid=1p72flhf7lhzz

Day 1: Snow Day 2: Festive Lights Day 3: Santa’s hat Day 4: Gifts Day 5: Silent Night Day 6: Red Noses Day 7: Miracles

All cover photos 1-6 used from Pixabay , 7th from unsplash. Free to use photos

*+~

Warnings:

- Bad memories, PTSD - Mentions of past child abuse - mentions of drugs - mentions of injury, not graphic

#banashee writes #xmas writing week 2020 #marvel fanfiction #phlint #clintcoulson #fluff and angst #tw past child abuse #tw injury (non graphic)#tw drug mentions

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the-woman-in-the-writing · 5 years

Text

“When the Moon Walked Among Us” a short fiction

Rating: PG Word Count: 3,164

Author’s note: I’ve always been good at remembering my dreams, and that seemed like a useless talent until I dreamed the world ended. I wrote this story as a way of preserving how vivid and realistic (yet a bit weird) my dream was, though please take note that I am not the narrator (in my stories, the narrator is never me). I didn’t revise, add, or deleted any scene or part in this dream-story. Everything you’re about to read was purely dreamed by yours truly.

Maybe it was the end of the world. Maybe it wasn’t. They never knew for sure what it was and why it happened. Only one thing was clear: nothing was ever the same again. Not after everything…

No.

People came together all over the world to watch the Super Moon. They packed their tents and barbecues, set up camp in wherever there was a clear field and open sky, turned off their lights, and waited. Families, friends, lovers, and strangers. We all came to watch the Super Moon that was said to last for a whole day. People chatted with one another, talking about their families or whoever they came with, over burgers and beer. The children made new friends and played by the sunset with their flashlights and food wrapper paper planes.

Everyone waited for the Super Moon.

They said it will be the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see. And it was. Despite everything that happened after, it really was.

When the evening came and everyone had piled up beside their tents and prepared their telescopes or binoculars, the Super Moon came into view: beautiful, big, round, and luminous, tinged and glowing with a creamy orange light that everyone marveled at. We were wolves staring at the moon, waiting to be transformed into something greater and stronger. It was so close that you could almost see every spot and crater in great detail even without a telescope or binoculars.

Then we went home, talked about it on the drive, posted pictures of it on the internet with stupid captions and hashtags, and showed it on the news. But as the world spun around this captivating piece of heaven, we all took turns, the people of the world. Of viewing. Of taking photos. Of making art. Of writing poetry. At one point you could say everyone was looking at the same thing as you could never miss it, this beautiful thing.

Later, people will believe that the Super Moon brought the world together for one tiny yet impactful moment in history. Not everyone will think so, but most will.

But we would all agree that this was the beginning.

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” - Romans 8:18

II.

No one could sleep.

When it started, no one knew why. Everyone in the world shifted in their beds and wondered why it was 2am and they couldn’t sleep. Though we all woke up on time, in sync with our 7am alarm, the atmosphere felt like noon: hot and awake. At work or at school we all exchanged, I couldn’t sleep last night’s and me too’s, and two hours after we all ate our lunches the sun was already setting. We were all confused. That night, no one got a good night’s sleep.

We asked the scientists, but some of them kept silent. Some of them said it was normal. We didn’t know what to think; we just wanted to sleep.

After a while, people started getting sick or getting into accidents. Most of us developed insomnia and loss of appetite. Those who started falling asleep again began while they were driving on their way to work. By the end of the month, most of the headlines yelled CRASH, DEAD, and INJURED. Children cried out of fear, wondering why they couldn’t avoid the darkness of the night by sleeping. Their parents grumbled, tired and sleepless as well.

Our days shortened. Life felt fast with our 16-hour days, but we’re humans. Of course, we found a way to adjust to it eventually. We stayed up all night partying, reading, drinking, texting, praying, and wandering; we opened and closed our stores much later; we extended our Late, Late Shows; and we made clocks that had shorter hours.

That didn’t mean we slept well and regularly again. Sometimes we would still shift in our beds and turn our pillows over and under our heads. The digits of 8 midnight would seem to blink endlessly by our bedside table. And if sleep was hopeless, we all stared at the moon, which was closer than it was three months ago.

“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed…” - 1 Corinthians 15:51

III.

It was all over the news: a lion with a school of dead fish washed up ashore on a beach in India. No one knew where the lion came from or how it made it all the way there, but people were speculating it had something to do with the moon and how it traveled a hundred thousand kilometers closer to us in just five months.

Again, we asked the scientists. And again, they either kept silent or said it was normal.

It’s part of the earth’s natural process.

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

It’s nothing to worry about.

From 384, 400 kilometers to 274, 575, we knew that was something to worry about, but we didn’t know everything. The how’s and the why’s. So, we relied on the scientists, because in science we trust and in God we doubt.

No one lived by the beaches anymore, even fishermen. By day, beaches would get so dry that you could walk for three hours and see nothing but land still. You’d step on a dead baby crab once in a while and by the time you’re looking back to where you came from, your legs would be gift-wrapped with seaweed and glittered with sand. At first, we couldn’t figure out the best way to fish and go on cruises because by night the water would get so high that it would swallow up any structure within fifty kilometers. In Ireland they say you’d be able to climb half of a sea cliff during the night.

After a while, the ecosystem went crazy and we went hungry. Partly because we’d just been adjusting to the 16-hour days, but mainly because the animals had a harder time getting used to it. Most of the fishes we caught were dead, and no one dared to fish in the middle of the night as weather became more unpredictable. Crops were no exception. Half of them died along with the marine life.

But then again, we were humans. We found a way to survive.

Almost everything we ate were manufactured in a shape of a cylinder or cube. We wrote recipe books that said, “101 Ways to Cook Canned Food” or “Canned You Cook This?” And we hid almost every vegetable we had left in fear of someone stealing it. Then by moonlight, if we felt having something that reminded us of how the world used to be, we would eat our roasted genetically modified chickens and our children would say, “Daddy, daddy, the moon is the size of my fist!”

“But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty.” - 2 Timothy 3:1

IV.

Our days shortened to 14 hours and depending on which part of the world you lived in, you either bathed in the sun or crept in the dark for more than half a day. The lands were cracked eggshells in Southern Asia and Africa, just like their skin. News reporters, missionaries, and tourists who travelled from the cold, dark North cried at swimming pools and parks because they missed the heat, and sometimes children would mistake them for ghosts or banshees.

Earth’s tilt was at 45-degrees and up in the North, where it almost snowed all year-round with only a month to melt almost half of the ice. People who didn’t die to lack of sleep or hunger died in the cold; in the South, they dried up like beef jerky. And before even Christmas arrived there were already no feeding programs or charity cases anymore, because all the beggars were dead and buried under our snow.

One time, a friend said, “My daughter came home from school and gave me her drawing. Their teacher had asked them to draw and color different kinds of people from all over the world and you know what? Even the Asian is black now!” We laughed for a second or so, but we stopped for a lot of reasons.

“You know, you could draw the moon and the sky and still use the same crayons.”

He replied, “The moon will take half of the paper though”

“And if those days had not been cut short, no human being would be saved. But for the sake of the elect those days will be cut short.” - Mark 13:20

Big, bold letters sprawled across every outlet store, every shopping center, and every thrift shop, and they all spelled the same thing: WINTER CLOTHES FOR SALE. We scavenged the last of our animals that could provide us warmth and security because nothing says, “We will survive this deadly winter” like wool jackets made from our frozen sheep and a pair of leather gloves, freshly skinned from our endangered cows.

Then the world figured out how to get what it wants. The North began to ask the South for animals: chickens, pigs, cows – every farm animal you can find in a children’s story book. Because no animal we could eat could survive the winter that long and we don’t know where the fishes went. On the other hand, the South asked for vegetables and lots of ice. And finally, we were able to travel conveniently again when we’ve figured out where to put all the ice, and the people of the South were happy as long as they got fresh vegetables on their plates and ice to keep them hydrated and cool. It didn’t matter that their forests and crops burned up and that their rivers were nothing but empty veins, because it was enough that they ate and drank.

It wasn’t easy, of course. We all complained. We all asked the scientists.

“How do we survive?”

We no longer asked if we were going to be okay or if they were lying about half of the world being frozen and the other half burning as something normal, and that we will be finishing the year earlier than expected. The scientists said there was nothing to worry about. We had to take their word for it, because what could we do if even they can’t do something about it?

So, no one just talked about the moon that watched over us, except maybe for the Internet that made jokes and funny pictures about it.

What’s important was that we made it out of this alive.

So, our scientists – all kinds – genetically modified our animals and manipulated our crops; they reproduced fishes in their laboratories; they made special facilities for storing water; they invented brand new foods with whatever was left to help get us all the nutrients we need; and they gave us technology and guides to help us do all of this at home.

If the sky was clear, we would find ourselves looking at the moon and its craters and spots, with our faces painted with moonlight. We were still wolves waiting to be transformed into something greater and stronger. Something that could survive all this.

We prayed.

Even though in science we trust and in God we doubt.

“Pray that it may not happen in winter. For in those days there will be such tribulations as has not been from the beginning of the creation that God created until now, and never will be.” - Mark 13:19

VI.

What follows is a series of tragedies: tragedies we know of; tragedies we named; tragedies that weren’t 14-hour days, mass animal endangerment, world famine, or a half-frozen, half melting world – tragedies that we were used to.

Earthquakes and the tsunamis that followed sunk islands as we welcomed a new year. All the small countries that lived on islands no longer resurfaced; their people would’ve been declared extinct if it weren’t for migration. If somebody were to make a world map at that time, you’ll no longer find Singapore, Malaysia, Brunei, Fiji, Cuba, or any of the islands as small as them on the map. Half of Japan and Indonesia sunk, and only a quarter of the Philippines resurfaced.

We lost seven percent of the world population. That’s half a billion people crushed by debris and drowned with the resources they traded all over the world. All their memories of their childhoods, first loves, and heartbreaks were reduced to nothing but rocks in the ocean to be covered by algae or barnacles. They were Atlantis, and a story come true have never felt so tragic.

People were devastated, of course. But we were all very hungry too. Those who weren’t affected by the earthquakes refused to help. There were incoming hurricanes and we all thought,

The dead will remain dead.

Half a billion people don’t need food, shelter, or medicine anymore.

There was no use in sharing resources with the few hundreds of survivors when more than a billion need it to stay alive.

Some people thought it was cruel and selfish, but by then we weren’t humans anymore. We were savages scraping what was left of the world we destroyed. And as much as we hate to eat and drink what should’ve been shared to the survivors of the Great Sink, we still did. We were all so hungry. God, we were hungry.

Then the hurricanes came along with their floods, landslides, and tornadoes, and they killed us and our animals. Homes were destroyed. Families were separated. Children were orphaned. There were about five billion people left in the world.

This must be a bad dream, we thought.

A sick joke.

That’s what this is.

“There will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and pestilences. And there will be terrors and great signs from heaven.” - Luke 21:11

VII.

People found evidence of advanced technology being developed and used by scientists, the same ones who told us that the world was not ending. (Or so we believed.)

There was a mass production of high-tech projectors and weather instruments that were launched into space to control what we saw on the horizon and what we didn’t. (Or so they say.)

The media was accused and persecuted for false news and being paid of hush-money to keep the so-called truth a secret. (Or so we wanted.)

Hundreds of data was discovered to contain information about a world-wide human experiment determining the effects of a global catastrophe and series of disasters on human behavior. (Or so they say.)

We imprisoned CEOs, scientists, and news reporters. We raided their homes, stole their food and clothes, and hurt their loved ones. We killed them in our dreams every night and ripped them limb by limb in the sleepless ones as we lay on the floors of our wrecked home, covered in snow or in sweat, and still staring at the moon that isn’t back to its rightful, safe distance. (And so we did.)

Everything will be back to normal once we shut down all those projectors and controllers. We will learn to live again and be humans.

And the world was not ending after all.

(And that’s what we wanted to believe.)

“And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.” - Matthew 24:10-12

VIII.

People came together all over the world to watch the world end. They held their children or whoever they had left, gathered food and shared them with others as a last act of kindness, set up camp in wherever there was a field with no debris or remnant of a human being, and waited. Families, friends, lovers, and strangers. We all came to witness The Day that was said to last a lifetime. People chatted with one another, talking about their families or whoever they lost, over empty stomachs and chapped lips. The children stayed with the adults and clung onto them with unending fear and the memory of a lost childhood.

Everyone waited for The Day.

They said it will be the most dreadful thing you’ll ever see. And it was. Despite everything that happened before, it really was.

When the hour came and everyone had piled up beside the broken homes or fallen trees, the moon stared right us as always: terrifying, big, round, luminous, and waiting to collide with our fallen earth. We were wolves staring at the moon, waiting to be transformed into something greater and stronger. It was so close that you could almost see every calamity and loss you’ve endured the past year in great detail even without a telescope, binoculars, or a washed-up family album or baby shoes.

We stayed and faced our inevitable fate. Some still managed to post pictures of it on the internet with stupid captions and hashtags. There were even people who showed it on the news. But as the world spun around this frightening piece of heaven, we all took turns, the people of the world. Of viewing. Of taking photos. Of crying. Of hugging and kissing one last time. Everyone was living the Day as you could never miss it, even if you wanted to.

And we all believed that the moon will crash into us and wipe us out for old times’ sake, but it wasn’t much later that we heard the most chilling, bone shattering sound we ever got to hear: the sound of the moon cracking, like a breaking iceberg, echoing into our souls, and resonating as weeping and almost hushed screams.

Some people swore they saw Christ come out of the moon, accompanied by angels. Not everyone believes so.

But we all agreed that when we saw pieces of the moon falling down on us in slow motion, helpless and blazing, that it was disturbingly beautiful.

It was then that I kissed my wife for the last time.

“But in those days, after that tribulation, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven; and the powers of heaven will be shaken.” - Mark 13:24-25

E P I L O G U E

There were survivors and they were less than a hundred. They spent the last days on earth, freezing, weeping, and gnashing their teeth in the dark. The sun died. The moon is gone. There is only but loneliness living and walking among the few humans who had gathered up the will to keep on breathing.

They couldn’t accept that that was the end of the world. If it was, there shouldn’t have been anyone left. But there was, and it was them.

Soon, they realized there was nothing left to do but wait.

54 notes · View notes

sirjustice127-blog · 4 years

Text

Euphobia where is grown much

They are locating the above as where Euphobia grows much as where ojuok jajuok grows, where people with bad eye interfere with the composition of its branches so dont treat that sickness well so he used to go at night climb 1 of the tree which made him fall to confuse it with Gambian story Magic Calabash which broke his legs 4 the locals name him computer wizard as he loved war and he was always reading about all the presidential monuments in Washington Dc state

The above done since much chemicals and disinfectants as much as liquid or powered soaps, shampoo, applying oils, relief drugs are made out of this green-tree.

Police in Russia and china don't bother at locating ya on roads if u are over-speeding or smoking as drinking alcohol while driving, a new mechanism has cropped in where digital of the same like the New China Electric meters that are wireless that are tracked centrally at the office, where such are installed in ya car and their working is known whether dead or working via the radar so cant break it down, hence u just get an SMS that on this section of the road u where over-speeding, warned 3 pay the fine b4 an arrest warrant issued if u repeat it again.

https://www.alibaba.com/trade/search?fsb=y&IndexArea=product_en&CatId=&SearchText=digital+speedometer

https://www.alibaba.com/product-detail/Locator-Portable-Visual-Fault-Hor-Sales_62350841560.html?spm=a2700.galleryofferlist.0.0.787c5977cl2QFq&s=p&bypass=true

https://www.alibaba.com/trade/search?fsb=y&IndexArea=product_en&CatId=&SearchText=digital+alcohol+detector+machine&viewtype=&tab=

https://www.alibaba.com/trade/search?fsb=y&IndexArea=product_en&CatId=&SearchText=digital+smoke+detector+machine&viewtype=&tab=

Birth of nelson Bon, Lisbon, Portugal b4 being airlifted to Kenya 4 adoption, the photo on the star soft bottle was his back then at the Nairobi, Wilson Airport, Was taken to Kenya out of his looking at good things which many whites dont condone or want the laughing as if things are okay and was born in Novembers, watch his star saying in astronomy b4 being adopted

https://www.jumia.co.ke/fabric-conditioner-spring-fresh-5-litres-sta-soft-mpg173608.html

Assuring Minaj, Lobinson, Magdalin and all the laddies he has perused and wants to marry that the future is rosy and those he want them to be his cougar as he don't love extra-smooth things but rather not all that supple. In the below link is him after taking shower with much detol to make his skin dry like of an old person. Magdalin ol Niki as Robinson Dirt off ya shoulder not with blow job but with ya hand or made gadget like in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndN29ioPNZo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWUV71G5W8g

The Nyamweshi, they followed the moon hoping it will relieve them of the burden encountered at that time so were called people of the moon, watuwa mwezi.

Pendo la nyamwezi mungu ni pendo la ajabu, huweshi kulinganisha x2

With okwaju treats Aids then aids will be finished like done diseases so u cant bank on that as its short run, bringing people here to be many to contract the same to bring the medication as u say they will never know just as automation yet in the lands they are from bears the biggest wild plantation of those okwaju fruits like Mexico and Carli4nia USA, some saying they are people of Sudan or Indian cause as well bears those fruit just looking 4 best/good things like rich man and Lazarus parable, while these fruits grows in any tropical land but in small amounts but can be grown huge so cant bank on it so relents them.

Fish place on snow flakes as ice makes iron sheets, furniture, coffins, glass, plates, nails buildings, any machine, wood or galvanized container houses, trains and thats the hidden gimmicks with temperate lands as they are found in large amounts and aint curse as cut leaves or grass and thats why they had gone their, make even cereals like corn and wheat flakes. Women with barnabas to cement reality, barafu, fuo as stupid while in tropics you can buy much fridges and make the same as ice cubes.

The fish, flying small insects, arachnids, birds as hawks or the nozzle of sprayers placed under ice or dough while u spit or hurled cold water makes drones or nails and the same nail made that way if u place few in ice or dough and many hardware small apparatus like nail, like in the link below. Vineyard and worker parable another version to bring out reality

https://www.google.com/search?q=nozzle+of+sprayers+bottles+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwje8qSf-_joAhUHQhQKHcmXBtkQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=nozzle+of+sprayers+bottles+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CVN1jFTWDmUWgBcAB4AIABygGIAdINkgEFMC43LjKYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=Q5yeXp7FL4eEUcmvmsgN&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop

Unless incapacitated then we can chip in and help ya kid in later years, your country is rich and got such disability benefits not now as ya wife can hustle 4 ya as the economy still got loopholes to fix ya self. Cant just give birth and disturb others who have not done the same but in a position to with such kids wanting every part of ya food as if u played part in the Zygotic formation, calculate dude, and if reason be he will be an Mp be 4 your mother and if u will make a car with no headlines as gotten from other kids as excuse, make it as well 4 ya kins me iwill not buy it, i would have moved to another country as take another route altogether. Take care of ya own shit bro, dont transfer it to others as excuse now u dont want kids, lets his father not yet incapacitated take care of him not me period or it will tantamount to war, either u kill me or i kill ya

Waswahili are Jamaicans, they were migrated from Kenya coast by the Europeans like portuguess, they forgot the swahili dialect as European de-tribalised them to adopt English, stay put and get the truth from white men stop this and that u know not fellows. Some even were taken to Nigeria where they intermarried but initially they live in southern Africa countries such as Mozambique or Sa and Botswana

If u claim this and that after a person utterance then u r close to being mad/insane and may leave ya company and if u dine still with rude people as hang/role with them people hates ya off-springs, as they assume u teach them the same as birds of same feathers stick/fly together. Desist women, let them die their own death, if u tolerate them, what next to eat in ya house and sleep secretly with ya kids or wife to bring the same bad kids we want not. Oil they waited is overtaken by alternator generators even match box/stick or cooking gas they had known how to make, tell them that they see reality so they get busy as look 4 loopholes in the economy to fix themselves or they will be killed cause it cant give ya food year in year out. Dude what ya exist plan or waiting 4 that i will also benefits from so i tolerate u or my kids benefit from, Nothing but bringing ya smelling mouth to my face or wanting me to suck ya dick. Stop fellows and resort to handwork period.

Kitchen and toilet appliances as well as furniture are made with fish placed in snow flakes or dough while u bath tickling, kinda, ya ass hole as washing it with sponge and boom its formed or u hurl cold cuddled milk unto the above and boom the kind of appliances u want formed or u place photos of the above unto the ice or snow flakes as another method still they are formed as mfalme wa yawhodi comes in to cement Christ sayings or what he meant and the reason 4 his killing

The above signal end to tyranny as cheap affordable life crops in if such are put in payment plan its much more cheap. Like in the link below but should be more cheap cause aint imported if sold in Kenya, now leave china made ones bro

https://www.jumia.co.ke/televisions/eefa/

Like a lady A sat on her bed legs apart helding kebis head like being on a staring hands moving from the back part of the staring wheel like spanking the back of his head, kebi licking that things, do u know what she utters in deep enjoyment or pleasure “ don’t bite it babe and if u r biting it without my consent continue biting it softly as i know it“

Utensils and the modern jikos, stoves and motors or pumps and more just try with any gadget not made in other ways provided above or below are made after placing the offering on the dough like broken parts pieces, where women talk on each other face as same as men, kinda, wanting like to kiss and boom they are formed even with electric kettles, cookers, mags, coffee making machines, some fridges, gas cylinders, nail cutters, bottle openers etc Gold and jewels as well are made this way by placing hard mafi or inside of guava, corpse of people who suffered they exhume in a container, add much water and do the above or spit saliva and boom any product u want is formed as caskets, bling, rings, study as earrings etc

The grave slabs explained below can be made of metallic iron rods to avoid break outs and to be strongly glued to the earth it can have wings like long metallic projections from sides to hold firm to the ground to give hard time in trying to uproot it.

They liaise with power company to create black out conducive 4 sweet escape and people who view things on their eye to see into ya compound guard position to fly the drone like to ya balcony to get into ya house them ambush ya and thats why now their should be no power black out which will not facilitate the above situation which even they kill you in. They use the open drone from another compound to get into ya compound or house in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WoFQ1NTwy04

Bank give me all that money to give to their big wing so they feel nice and leave me all alone, bad conduct they wanna put ya in. Anyway life has been made easy with the latest innovations in Africa, so i don’t give a hoot of living big/large. Up to ya if u wanna do the same, hustle by ya self don’t incorporate me into it, wanting good from me but u cant help me, instead give me dirty names.

Dont dude, discussing 1 past, spoils ya face and its known that way, kinda, u look malnourished yet not. If they are good at this time as don’t disturb ya again leave it to pass and thats maturity and can happen to any1 or any1 kid in times futurity.

Along the road behind Dala hera where water collects after a short downfall is where Herod was buried and john body while at where palmers hotel family lived and thats the reason why so i know was where Goliath and King David was buried, in fact when u r there, kinda, if u look down, the earth crust seems to divide into 2.

Aluminum foil, wires or plates as sufuria when placed in dough makes double door fridges, automated vendor machines or milk processing equipment and storage.

At Night when sleeping u see the spot of green-light as in ya dreams to tell ya that its green-man who told these white-men per country how gadgets are made and some writings we love are by them as well as song given to them to do it in their own way.

The door of submarine described below should not be on a protruding end/side as a house veranda or balcony but like a small partition done inside with its own door so if 1 from outside don’t see an extension but just as a cylinder in the link below which can be made into a submarine

http://around-us-facts.blogspot.com/2013/04/why-tanker-trucks-are-made-cylindrical.html

Emery asking delanu “Ule dem mwenye kepi anamtaka, tayari ameshampatia kitu amemeza au la asha“ Babo Mtu wangu, nikujikakamua tu kisabuni while kebi says as he gets into the conversation, in Broken luo “An adong’o ne blina, kedo kal pidho thuol apidho manda mond kiko-okomplain kaka okomplain sani ne home girls ne eti she is contented but not satisfied“

Adwalo mochanda gi magdalin, to gitamle miya golo na gimolo mondo aswo gi koyo ni, Kebi molocha was heard complaining.

How machines or gadgets as equipment should be priced, measure 30% weight of the above which is the minimum high quality placed dough used b4 cold sewer water is hurled synonymous with some fridges, pick ups or the lighting up garbage Lory where cut other color glass pieces is place on the dough above and boom that machine formed. The price should be 30% weight of that machine translate it to wheat flour price of that 30% used to make that very machine and multiply by 100 as 100 x while the multiplied times is the profit, the hard task derived from making such as the lost sheep parable cements the truth. If dough worth 1 buck was used let the gadget be 100 bucks period cause they are just made. Pick ups are also made with maize cobs as eggs, i mean placed in different styles, Christ with division to bring out the reality of what he meant or signaled. Beyond 100 times can take ya too hell as u see hell door being lowered, no kidding jo, its not guess work but pure truth bro.

With every gadget u can use egg as the being placed on the dough, with double door fridges u place 2 standing on the tip, king of the jew to bring out another version reality, cookers u place it like sleeping on the other side, stereos u cut the boiled egg into pieces as well as Tv, with drones u place them in circles with big airplane u place it in a rectangular form with choppers in square form, u can try with any shape placing the egg on dough and after partaking mwarubaine/neem leaves with meditation u visualize the gadget that can be made using such pattern.

If u were to be paid 5% of the total cost of every gadget made using Ae technology or the no fuel generator theorem, then in many nations which has bought from like china Alibaba or Italy Linz generator and more have sold much pieces but why haven’t u been paid or taken them to court esp those manufacturing countries described in the following tumblr of this a/c. Stop dude, look 4 other ways to hustle esp coast province blooded fellows such as many luyas, dont expect water out of Euphobia tree but white Gum as dont look 4 the dead among the living with the Christ tomb, free things locators yet with ya money they want ya to join their things yet when u got none, u dont see them around or go in circles giving ya silly defaming names, as join and dont do this, eat corpse. Corpse can save ya ass, as dont make ya cleaver 4 such explained, it was just the German gimmick to delude ya to destroy ya mind further.

They are coming up with simbapay to allow u get many a/cs like with African phone lines so as to withdraw much from 2goinvoice since they got the software. They have been blocked in dubious ways and cant move on so resort to daytime lies as seen dubious ways. Let it be 1 or 2 line per person and i know if that is done many company wanna come in so they got other many options to open from to get many lines to do the same just as with Pay Tv decoders per countries. Britain u r digging ya own grave and sitting on a tickling time bomb. Click the link below 4 more

https://www.google.com/search?client=opera&q=simbapay+uk&sourceid=opera&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8

They get into submarines with 2 doors to get into the inside like the 1st door if u open u get with water but still inside there their is a water pump that the crew sitch it one to let out the very water that got in with you out, which if has gotten out the space remain free with you just inside b4 u open the 2nd door that gets into the inside of the real drone minus the water that got with ya as explained above. Submarines are just airtight heavy wall drones that instead of cold air being blown from below the gas cylinder to take it up, the reverse is done on the top of the siren gas cylinder to take it down the water b4 another cold air blown from below of the same magnitude as the 1 blown from above to keep it at the same level in water, the same technology as well applies to airplane in air as another cold air blow from behind the siren gas cylinder to keep it moving ahead. To negotiate a corner or a U-turn cold air blown from the tip or the end most of the cylinder from beside and to get back cold air blown from the rear part of the cylinder and thats as well the rocket, drone, submarine or chopper science. Weed parable, Beatitude or little kids, with Christ and lost coin parable to bring reality of the above. Click the link below to get a glimpse of submarine and inside ya air travel u can opt 4 one tied on a parachute once the fall develops an hitch to fall u get out while inside the drone with the parachute described above b4 u open it to make u land on the sea then u start ya journey.

https://www.google.com/search?q=images+of++submarine+vessels&client=opera&hs=8MP&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=YWCjS6kWU6U5mM%253A%252Cmw0B22SbvUlCBM%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kR6whfhvNgBzhWMeVcGFkup6sNI-Q&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi76fCrqPHoAhW9A2MBHeluAWIQ9QEwAnoECAoQHg#imgrc=YWCjS6kWU6U5mM:

Yet people follow engage in fights in the aftermath yet these folks are friend and what they champion is just games they discuss at night like in the link below where their will be no stealing of election if ballot boxes are locked with finger print padlocks unless the returning officer is near then the same done or if Has not taken Ginger with Skali ngulu or mbuta to avert the changing of body parts by Mr Hindu as the finger can be given to another to do the same as allow rigging and ballot boxes weighed immediately after election then a rough calculation done based on the weight to find the number of total votes cast b4 counting like a sample of 1000 ballot paper weighs this so what about the weight of ballot papers cast in this ballot box minus the weight. they are looking 4 other dubious loopholes to more confuse the folks

https://www.google.com/search?q=raila+with+uhuru+images+on+standard+newpaper+front+page+today&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjIh9D26e7oAhUxzIUKHR-7CkIQ420oCnoECAoQGA&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.jumia.co.ke/measuring-tools-scales/

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=finger+print+padlocks

Robinson those Gemini the twins on ya chest are big who are touching them Robinson, don’t hide me, u r my homie or may it not be Lil wayne, Knowles those hooves from ya besides are to big and wide, who is caressing them, Mrs Knowles, don’t be afraid i wont tell girl or may it not be u have harbor an African in ya house whose skin is dry and rough like in the song below, Excuse me, excuse me Mrs Robinson is Obama hitting that thing right or just play with it, i long to do the same but no jest with it Mum- am delanu mkubwa

Minaj dont or never feel a shamed i wont tell as well, then tell, i know like u r saying, kinda, “things can be resolved, nothing beyond us, their is always a solution to a predicament” those booty are to flabby and too big than as we saw them in yester years, tell me girl who is touching them, may it not be Lobinson has tought u the same as u harbor an Africa in ya crib doing that work. Tell me women, where are u taking them booty if not to me am in owe and perturbed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My2LtlHMugo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-yn1luPxAY

Buy even small of the linz No fuel generator in the link bellow which is more cheap the the protruding end make a gear on it like with mountain bike chain system to rotate the other gear slow to rotate the wind turbine so u can use it even to power the whole school or 5 star hotel as it got much watts rather than placing the turbine on poles creating bad name on ya side as u don’t build the country as pay electric bill something which is cheap. Dont tint ya name. U connect the wind turbine of many watts as u select to buy with the same powerful inverter, like 10,000 watts shown in the link below

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=alternator+generators

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=wind+turbine

https://www.google.com/search?q=10,+000+watts+china+inverter+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiFyqay7-7oAhUsyYUKHaz1B0kQsAR6BAgKEAE

https://www.google.com/search?q=linz+alternator+generator+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwi2hZy17-7oAhVP4oUKHdwWD94Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=linz+alternator+generator+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoCCAA6BAgAEEM6BAgAEB46BggAEAgQHjoGCAAQBRAeOgQIABAYUJGpBFis_gRgnIMFaABwAHgCgAGrCIgB9VCSAQ4yLTE2LjUuMi4yLjIuMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=r1GZXvbxCc_ElwTcrbzwDQ&client=ms-google-coop

With no fuel Generator above like the Linz u can use a solar panel mounted on a solar charger controller to turn the motor during the day and at night use its battery to avoid staying out of power when battery reduces in voltage not to turn the turbine to produce power. U CAN USE A Technician

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=solar+panels

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=solar+charger+controllers

Bones of animals in dough or ice cubes placed in different patterns or styles make as well office or home appliances, furniture or small hand driven or operated machines like grinders or drills. Barafu as women with Lazarus comes handy to cement de truth. With Egg u use peeled off egg like with the explanation below

Double door fridge made with 2 boiled egg place standing next to each other on the specified dough. Africans as Kenyans where have u reached as well as Negros, Minafika wapi with frustrating kebi and u have been warned slogan after being told the money making online gimmicks. Lake Victoria can be reduced via from below the earth crust dig hole to make some water flow out until its Kenya part reduced completely to be out cause the Negros are eye this part as it of leisure they place yacht and speed boat on it after all has been made like the innovation of E-engines which uses no power, so they feel good as also the Hindu left so they can get to another country if they commit crime as opposed to their country deep lakes with high security features of committing crimes.

They want cities in the E-African regions to have many people, as many banks and many cheque cashing centers as hotels and bureau de changes so they being built close to the lake to enable sweet escape as now they have known how to make submarines like with Tz choppers, they rob and not long b4 the city police alerted they jump into the lake or seas like with Malindi, Dar es salam, kilifi, mogadishu and mombasa to the submarines and get out at lonely places just the same with how they were fishing b4 Lake Victoria get in points were fenced shipping the fish to Europe and America markets via the underground fissures described in below following tumblr a/c

List of cities around E-African coastline and around lake Victoria basin

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=NXmZXvGNBNuW8gKd77iAAg&q=+cities+around+lake+victoria+basin&oq=+cities+around+lake+victoria+basin&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR0oJCBcSBTEyLTk3SggIGBIEMTItM1DgnQFY4J0BYK-jAWgAcAJ4AIABxgGIAcYBkgEDMC4xmAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwix_OeNle_oAhVbi1wKHZ03DiAQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=jXqZXsmmAdb9gAbpyq6oAg&q=coastal+cities+in+east+africa&oq=coastal+cities+in+east+africa&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzICCAAyBggAEBYQHjIGCAAQFhAeMggIABAWEAoQHjIGCAAQFhAeMgUIABDNAjIFCAAQzQI6BAgAEEdKDggXEgoxMS0yNzdnMjE2SgsIGBIHMTEtNGcxNVC5iQFY4dQBYPXWAWgAcAJ4AIABqwKIAcQnkgEEMi0yMpgBAKABAaoBB2d3cy13aXo&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwiJoemxlu_oAhXWPsAKHWmlCyUQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

Now their is 1 loophole left, they can steal water at night or in lonely compound and place them in trucks like in the link below and organize per houses as they want to stay afloat to buy the flat septic tanks to store the above water then u minimize ya house water intake by half as half they provide, to use the money gotten from many households of such deals to put like E-buses, vans, taxi on the road to reap huge profits to buy others to still put a swag that they are blessed. Its done in a half way mentioned above to remove all doubt that were are u getting ya money but to give another sense u have lowered ya water use. The kisii are eying on this to capitalize it to stay afloat like explained above. The link below shows how many tanks u can use as calculated by your monthly bill which show how many cubic/m2 u r using, if more they can even place many under ya house ceiling to meet the same

https://www.google.com/search?q=images+of+rectangular+gallon+water+storage+tank&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjA57rNl-_oAhXLARoKHfsaCE8Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=images+of+rectangular+gallon+water+storage+tank&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CbhAJYzY0CYPmXAmgAcAB4AIAB7gGIAY0LkgEFMC40LjOYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=03uZXoCyGcuDaPu1oPgE&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d

Like in the links below, the airplane gas nozzle sometimes fail even to ooze out gas after stop or in along journey leads to airplane fall even for household, so this below technology can be of big help big time where the nozzle made like the home water nozzle while a tip is place with many hole like the normal cooking gas nozzle but hard 1 4 planes to avoid the described above as airplane fall

https://www.pinterest.at/pin/623185667171084266/?d=t&mt=signup

https://www.google.com/search?q=digital+water+pegler+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwio-eq8me_oAhW0gM4BHVdsClsQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=digital+water+pegler+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CepwJYuLECYLW4AmgAcAB4AIAB5AGIAYALkgEFMC40LjOYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=yX2ZXujwGbSBur4P19ip2AU&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d#imgrc=Wmg9ptIs3FBosM

Water pegler or gas nozzle can be digital as blue-tooth enabled to be controlled from ya phone or the city water center to monitor an authorized utilization of same resource as with of airplane or as blue-tooth controlled padlocks in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=blue+tooth+enabled+jumia+kenya+padlocks&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjd4KHVmu_oAhXR4YUKHTRlDOcQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=blue+tooth+enabled+jumia+kenya+padlocks&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoCCAA6BAgAEEM6BQgAEIMBOgYIABAFEB46BggAEAoQGFC9tQtYmo0MYMGTDGgAcAB4AIABpAKIAdA-kgEHMC4xOC4yMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=CX-ZXp24BdHDlwS0yrG4Dg&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d

When all goes well, they thought it will be all darkness to me, what i will do, is to take “wasichana wangu” the head to another nation the come back if the dust of shame has settled like Christ going to Egypt and coming after herod death- the death of rod/penis, root of David Rodeo

Buy Brazil weg alternator generator as show in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=weg+generator+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjruM3Vpu_oAhVUVsAKHR5aARwQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Buy SA elegen generators in the link beside

https://www.google.com/search?q=elegen+alternator+generator+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjhgbeXpu_oAhWT_IUKHRvUBZgQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=elegen+alternator+generator+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1DMfViXmAFg5Z0BaABwAHgAgAHPAogBkRWSAQYyLTEwLjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=HIuZXuGDJ5P5lwSbqJfACQ&bih=654&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop

South Korea doosan generator link beside

https://www.google.com/search?q=doosan+generators+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwixuryjre_oAhULQkEAHZoeCBsQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Italy mecc alte alternator generator in the link beside

https://www.google.com/search?q=mecc+alte+generators+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiR5-fxre_oAhXUTMAKHTjeCR8QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Buy polystar Home appliances like double door fridges from Nigeria in the Link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=opera&ei=saCaXozgD6mejLsP06ygwAE&q=polystar+fridge+made+in+which+country&oq=polystar+fridge+made+in+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQRzoGCAAQBxAeOggIABAHEAUQHjoFCAAQzQJQ4-MKWJKMC2DbkgtoAHABeACAAY4CiAHyGZIBBTAuOC44mAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjM_OLzrvHoAhUpD2MBHVMWCBgQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=polystar+nigeria+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=opera&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwju2d3vr_HoAhXJ5eAKHSdLDwQQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=984&bih=658

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Faltmall.ng%2Fapp%2Fuploads%2Fabitoks-electronics-3496%2Fproducts%2FPOLYSTAR_Home_Theatre5.1_Channel_Music_System_PV-EL616-product-2019-08-27.png&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Faltmall.ng%2Fabitoks-electronics-3496%2Fp%2Fpolystar-24533&tbnid=-k2FFcaoG7OjQM&vet=10CAYQMyhmahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg..i&docid=m5OW8ZnNxw5SoM&w=614&h=636&q=polystar%20nigeria%20home%20appliances%20images&client=opera&ved=0CAYQMyhmahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi0.wp.com%2Fbizwatchnigeria.ng%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2018%2F04%2FHome-Appliances.jpg%3Fresize%3D331%252C219%26ssl%3D1&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fbizwatchnigeria.ng%2Ftag%2Fpolystar%2F&tbnid=v14Ddg19ly8neM&vet=10CBcQMyhtahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg..i&docid=TaqkjrV5lBbJSM&w=331&h=219&itg=1&q=polystar%20nigeria%20home%20appliances%20images&client=opera&ved=0CBcQMyhtahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg

https://www.3ptechies.com/polystar-electronic-products-price-list.html

Now we got it in Africa, Obina, Obina, Obina, dont buy sony, Lg or Panasonic stereos from oversees in ya supermarkets buy it from Nija as Nigeria, an young to-kendo anmawacho mano an kevin in the house now in the link below

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmmexcel.com%2Fmedia%2Fcatalog%2Fproduct%2Fcache%2F1%2Fimage%2F9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95%2Fp%2Fv%2Fpv12.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmmexcel.com%2Fpolystar-mini-hifi-system-set-pv-12.html&tbnid=VkfcqklG_Ns-cM&vet=10CDwQMyh9ahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg..i&docid=cUEbjFnmStx49M&w=600&h=600&q=polystar%20nigeria%20home%20appliances%20images&client=opera&ved=0CDwQMyh9ahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg

Made in Tanzania electric car in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=tanzania+made+car+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjfidKMsvHoAhVB1-AKHR14CIEQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=tanzania+made+car+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CS0gtYi_QLYMX2C2gAcAB4AIAB-QGIAYYPkgEFMC43LjOYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=CqSaXt_cK8Gugwed8KGICA&bih=658&biw=984&client=opera&hs=VGk#imgrc=Ld6IEGGhtjFzXM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KbR_7IkF0DI

Few fish or cattle meet, if u partake not artificial daily like in the link below u risk getting to hell and most people came to ya brick, stone or block house to see if they are artificial or from quarry destroying the earth as u help in that and it will help in ya judgement in life after death. They r taking notes whether is u r mad or denied a right man love to love ya and give the same to criminals

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-2a3al8pm0

You of little faith, how kebi likes made it to either Europe or US using such avenues, standing to defecate and taking along with u military food that makes u not want to visit the toilet frequently or piss not

https://www.google.com/search?q=kantanka+motorbike+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwj7xNT8tfHoAhUN_hQKHY3uB_kQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=kantanka+motorbike+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CdjQRY9ZwEYLOsBGgAcAB4AIAByAGIAZsNkgEFMC44LjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=GqiaXvvPOY38U43dn8gP&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=GtqnF4_XIOsT8M

Polystar same sorted after Sony or Lg stereo in Africa same quality in the link below and vending machine as well. Exchange rate 2 Nira equals1 khs and so forth so on same sorted after like the Panasonic also in the link below

https://likeparadise.com.ng/polystar-mini-hifi-system-dvd-2.0-pv-hf208

https://www.dmbase.com/index.php?dispatch=products.view&product_id=1656

https://newatlas.com/panasonic-extra-large-audio-system/28149/

Buy GNA Home appliances made in Ghana as shown in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=Gna+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwihg8X37fHoAhVIecAKHZTECYsQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Buy as well Papua new Guinea Home appliances in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=png+appliances+from+which+country&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjF9pj17vHoAhVUQ0EAHaDACPAQsAR6BAgIEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Buy USA amana products in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=ghana+made+home+appliances&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjm2tzR6_HoAhXw1-AKHZU8CzQQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=ghana+made+home+appliances&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1DcoBpYo9MaYKveGmgAcAB4AIABmgKIAdcOkgEFMC40LjWYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=YOCaXuaqGfCvgweV-aygAw&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=2TZ0mNSn1pKumM

https://www.google.com/search?q=amana+appliances++images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi355OC8PHoAhXOh1wKHRXOBgsQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Is it true that loving many women get u off the things of this life as i google like u dont want to drive a car solo as u want 1 to do it for u or makes ya to like walking not even commuting. Or just people wanting to be heard!!!!

Buy thermocool, okayama or bobo or optima Nigeria made generators in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=5OmbXp3JF7rJgwetzIWYBw&q=thermocool+generator+from+which+country&oq=thermocool+generator+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1DhrgJYqsoCYIXXAmgAcAJ4AIABlAKIAagQkgEFMC40LjaYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwidy6Tt6PPoAhW65OAKHS1mAXMQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=thermocool+generator+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiPrOiT6fPoAhUMA2MBHX1hA0UQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

https://www.emsgadgets.com/okayama-electric-generator/

https://www.google.com/search?q=okayama+electric+generators+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj9s8GC6_PoAhWGMBQKHVznD7oQsAR6BAgFEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Artificially made building stones technology in the houses in the link below here in Kenya

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fproxy%2FumSkHf7W2-jnPnKTWHC-svmJqwwEDVlFTlFgsnTK546JknekWxCJ41Fzn9wyB9f_LjsGS8tZdKHYYNHy8GiuhBHqGEZdRhGexor1IA%3Ds0-d&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fhouseplan211.blogspot.com%2F2017%2F12%2Fmodern-house-plans-in-kenya.html&tbnid=R2FC5djHtFdoFM&vet=12ahUKEwiu-9fs7PPoAhUs3OAKHf9JA2EQMygUegQIARAn..i&docid=4_5yeeTH13SjNM&w=1160&h=600&q=tuko%20modern%20houses%20in%20kenya&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwiu-9fs7PPoAhUs3OAKHf9JA2EQMygUegQIARAn

Buy Australia OX products like Fans or e-bikes in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=ox+electric+products+from+which+country&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi9sMKa7_PoAhWQHxQKHfrpDuYQsAR6BAgIEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Buy Nigeria made Century home appliances in the link below or Amaecom

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=AfKbXp-DIvXRgwePqKHoBg&q=centuary+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=centuary+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CCuwFY3NwBYN7iAWgAcAJ4AIAB9AGIAYUZkgEGMC4yLjEzmAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjfh-HL8PPoAhX16OAKHQ9UCG0Q4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=century+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjxp6bi8PPoAhUj5eAKHclZDZ4QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=XPObXt2gGq-EjLsP8_yY-A8&q=amaecom+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=amaecom+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1Ct_QFY0o4CYPiRAmgAcAJ4AIABzgGIAd8KkgEFMC42LjGYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjdvpTx8fPoAhUvAmMBHXM-Bv8Q4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=amaecom+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjPwNSJ8vPoAhXt6eAKHT4EDXAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

The pay in small amount method to buy gadgets should be incorporated in KENYA likewise to buy affordable gadgets to bridge the gap between the rich and the poor in-terms of ownership is concerned.

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=gPObXpuoNJDhUKW1nYAN&q=likeparadise+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=likeparadise+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CgS1ilX2DXZWgAcAJ4AIABsQKIAeETkgEHMC4zLjguMZgBAKABAaoBB2d3cy13aXo&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwib6MOC8vPoAhWQMBQKHaVaB9AQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

The Submarine vessel below needs stored oxygen inside 4 the crew inside breathing but u aint free in breathing as u find difficulties in it, so comes up periodically in lonely places to facilitate the above as open a lid to allow much fresh air inside without the enemy noticing as they can fire or bomb it as capture it lest its armored of glass or metal. So the sand lifting truck technology like the pulled radio areal can be employed so it dont draw close to upper water creating security concerns but does it from like 20-30 meters below water as the extending system to get air from above the waters to the vessel is automated like in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=images+of+dump+trucks+releasing+sand

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXRYxAMg_sI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShJ2oYpuV0E

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/301670875036719062/

The shinny metal like radio are can harbor camera and a gun to monitor and shoot intruders respectively at the same time.

If they don’t listen up nothing we can do, they have played with us but just engage them in warfare as in the song below, no time 4 silly romantic illusions like instead of pro-acting and resolving the whole situation they resort to songs as if when they were above u, they never wanted to just sleep with u but now with ya u want to do the same, not having it in mind we have not yet seduced them, but they take it that way as they want that. Be prostitutes once and 4 all, stop games and dilly dallying. Now we got fresh mouth herb nyamawho which deterred many a white women and ya kid cant suffer as like has been subsidized with latest African innovation and buying methods of machines that makes life comfortable

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPe09eE6Xio

Buy as well Nigeria made scanfrost home or kitchen appliances as described in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=scanfrost+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjskKjooPToAhWcD2MBHbZ-AAEQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Fmyscanfrost.com%2Fproduct%2Frefrigerator-sfs-bs2550m-side-by-side-refrigerator%2F&psig=AOvVaw25iZy3IX9x-ctJxsdJ7Ugr&ust=1587377855344000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAkQjhxqFwoTCNj4l_Sj9OgCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAZ

https://dinku.com.ng/p/polystar-mini-hifi-speaker-system-pv-xh2005_6032

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=ryOcXpGIAaSKjLsPtb2OwAo&q=scanfrost+electronics+from+which+country&oq=scanfrost+electronics+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CmFFjyJWCKOWgAcAJ4AIABuQWIAcUvkgEDNS05mAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjRm_X7n_ToAhUkBWMBHbWeA6gQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=scanfrost+sound+system&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi76p-5ofToAhWh3eAKHY_vBdAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

Buy Kenyan made kevitron home appliances in the links below

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=dCOcXpesJLqYjLsPvuq38AU&q=vitron+electronics+from+which+country

https://www.google.com/search?q=vitron+electronics+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi-iovoofToAhXZ6eAKHbhCCwcQsAR6BAgKEAE

Buy dishwashers online to eliminate ya from squatting or standing washing ya many dishes if u got much friends, once and 4 good in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=scanfrost+sound+system&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi76p-5ofToAhWh3eAKHY_vBdAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910#imgrc=xV2yrDohfr4ybM

No time 4 stupid romantic illusions stupid and sick, death awaits ya, sitting in a time bomb just the way we have learnt ya dialect, no time 4 pity period. we will kill you if u don’t take heed, together with your sick kikuyu. am stopping ya business ways as described in my following tumblr a/c sirjustice50, your wicked ways, am trumping in the long-run, thought u knew much, even am sweeping china presence in the world. where r u with gimmicks which are old. Got to think twice. now sending folks to monitor my eating habit at my doorstep, u will not maneuver me unless u kill me. I want to revenge

Made in Nigeria drone, tractors, choppers, Trains and boats in the link below where yacht is plastic containers placed under floating slippers or dough then paraffin, pain or kerosene hurled instead of water or sewer water but cold as well, try any other chemical like thinker 4 products which dont come out as u use cold water or u can even try with plant juices like sugar cane, fruit or yorgurt

https://www.nairaland.com/5528000/nigerian-made-boats-lagos-government

https://olufamous.blogspot.com/2019/11/made-in-nigeria-trains-to-be-launched.html

https://www.owojelasblog.com/2016/07/nigeria-converts-aircrafts-to-drones.html

https://borgenproject.org/yudala-first-drone-deliver-nigeria/

http://www.aitonline.tv/post-nigeria__president_jonathan_unveils_first_indigenous_uav__drone_

Nigeria Defense industries 1st made drone

https://face2faceafrica.com/article/at-age-17-he-built-nigerias-first-locally-made-drone-and-on-a-mission-to-build-an-aircraft

https://www.360nobs.com/2018/02/buhari-launches-nigerian-made-drone-kaduna/

https://www.google.com/search?q=nigeria+made+yacht+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiJuP3brvToAhVllFwKHV8eAxAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910#imgrc=pEOYkPqYV6eQ7M

https://hackingafrica.com/development/6261/

https://www.legit.ng/879073-engineer-builds-100-nigerian-tractor-hopes-inspire-others-photos.html

Kebi rather stevo saidia maskini, help pita yaani kal pass by nyagu imemshinda kukula vyema na yeye si mchoyo, msaidiye wajamani na kebi pia hasaidiye chali wa brina, kuwa na respect tafadhali, help him chew/tafuna the maize to big and hard 4 him, he will be seen glutton as adrian delanu is helping sam kokudo down there.

Even kid toys can be made big into real machines if u do the above in the dark of hurling cold fluids or spit on them many people

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akitokihojo · 6 years

Text

It’s About Time -Part 3

A bit longer than last week’s portion. A bit more angsty too (considering angst hasn’t even been a thing in this fic as of yet).

----------------------------

Miroku retracted his arm from Sango’s shoulder, rolling his head back against the cushion of the couch and groaning loudly. It wasn’t often that he was at a loss, being the type that could break the ice like an actual elephant, but this time was different. His best friend was sulking. Actually and legitimately sulking. Locking-himself-in-his-room, mumbling-words, hanging-his-head-in-defeat sulking. He’d approached the situation jokingly at first, which was probably the worst thing he could have done. Hell, he’d never seen Inuyasha look so dejected before, even after breaking up with Kikyo, so it was perfectly understandable that he almost thought he was being pranked. Once he’d realized how serious this was, Miroku tried a more tender approach. He brought home comfort food, offered some distracting video game time, and even forked up the cash for a bottle of expensive whiskey to help Inuyasha relax and start talking. All of which were rejected.

He’d decided that two weeks was long enough, and it was time to take drastic measures. Enter Sango. After another failed attempt at coaxing Inuyasha out of his brooding stupor, he dashed out into the forty-degree weather, hopped into his car and drove straight to Sango’s apartment. It was against the “Bro Code” to spill about a friend’s personal life, but he didn’t know what else to do and thought a woman’s touch was all the guy needed.

By the end of Miroku’s story, Sango’s roommate came through the front door and froze after noticing him. It wasn’t the first time it had happened in the last week or so, but it didn’t make it any less weird. She hardly smiled, and after a moment, looked away awkwardly as she hung her coat and scarf on the hook nailed to the wall. After disappearing into her bedroom, Sango reluctantly admitted that Kagome had seemed down for a while now, too, with no given explanation.

“And you have no idea what’s wrong with Kagome?” Miroku asked, rolling his head to the side to glance at his girlfriend.

“Not a clue. She was totally fine and then all of a sudden, she just… wasn’t. I’ve asked her a thousand times to talk to me, but she keeps saying it’s nothing to worry about.” Sango replied, a concerned frown marring her features.

“Maybe it’s in the water.” Miroku suggested, feeling defeated.

“Not for Inuyasha.”

Miroku looked at her questionably, turning his body towards her once more in anticipation of what she had to say.

“You said he has a soulmate. What if he found her?” Sango inquired.

“Why would that upset him?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. From all the stories you’ve told me about Inuyasha, he seems like the stubborn type-”

Miroku chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, he’s definitely stubborn.”

“Therefore, he may be picky about his women. What if he doesn’t like his soulmate? Better yet, what if he doesn’t like the fact that he didn’t get a choice in the matter? I mean, it seems a little farfetched that 100% of the people that have a soulmate wouldn’t have a problem with their selection.” She shrugged, raising her eyebrows. Miroku sat there for a moment, allowing her words to sink in and process.

“Have I ever told you how brilliant you are, you gorgeous woman?” He boasted, squishing her cheeks in between his hands and pulling her in for a kiss. “What the hell would I do without you?”

She giggled, shaking her head and pushing his hands away from her face. “So, I helped?”

“Are you kidding? Everything makes sense now! That idiot is as stubborn as a mule. In fact, he’s so stubborn donkeys take after him. You’re damn straight he doesn’t like anyone calling the shots for him, especially in the love department.”

“Maybe you just need to help him take his mind off of things for now. Eventually, everything will calm down and level out. Even a guy like him can learn to accept change, right?” Sango asked innocently.

“Oh, uh… Give or take six months down the road he may consider the idea of accepting it.”

“…You’re kidding.”

“My dearest Sango, I never joke about Inuyasha’s attitude. He is, in fact, the worst.” Miroku smiled nonchalantly. “But I’ve tried to keep his mind off of things. I end up more rejected than a high school girl whose senpai won’t notice her. Thank god we’re in this together, huh?”

"We are?" Sango hesitated, frowning at her boyfriend who seemed all-too-eager to include her.

“Of course! Kagome could probably use the pick-me-up too! How about a house party? My place is big enough and we’re on the bottom floor. I’ll invite the neighbors, so they don’t complain. They’re young. They’re hip. Everyone can dance their worries away.”

“I can’t imagine Inuyasha being the dancing type.”

“He is when he’s drunk.”

The pungent smell of alcohol riddled the air as too many people bounced about, shouted, and dry-humped around him to the loud music. Inuyasha distinctly remembered telling Miroku he wasn't interested in hosting a party, and yet here he was; shutout of his own bedroom and forced to stand around awkwardly until the alcohol hit his system. He didn't know how his roommate always got his way, but the man was a master at persuasion and coercion.

He swiveled the red, plastic cup in his hand hoping the motion would make the ice melt faster and cool the warm whiskey so that it was drinkable. He watched as the two ice cubes hit the sides of the container, flowing in a circular motion as a small whirlpool was created. The lower temperature began to seep through the plastic, soothing his irritated hand and helping him to ignore the increasing prickling.

Ever since that day at the coffee shop, Inuyasha had felt like shit and these sensations had increased tenfold. He knew this party was Miroku’s way of trying to help bring him out of it but being forced to hang out in a very crowded room with a lot of drunk, obnoxious people was far from the answer. He just needed to ride the stupid feeling out.

Inuyasha had watched the message he’d written slowly fade from his palm, disappearing completely with no response. He’d stared at his skin for damn near an hour waiting for something to appear. Every day, he’d check his hands for notes or doodles and his flesh remained clean and clear. The only thing that remained to tie him with whomever the fuck this was, was the annoying, unrelenting tingling that spread from his wrists to the tips of his fingers, seemingly growing worse and worse by the minute. Inuyasha wasn’t one for melancholy to begin with. He was the type of guy that swallowed his problems to deal with another day, but this whole ordeal seemed to be eating him away and wearing him thin.

He was exhausted, he was aggravated, and he was anxious as all hell.

He took a large swig of his barely-cold drink, the whiskey burning at his throat as it coated it thoroughly on its way down. Slamming the cup on the small side table next to the couch, he made his way to the open front door, heading towards the fresh air and calmer atmosphere.

"Inuyasha!" Miroku shouted, waving over the many heads inside. A girl several inches smaller than him tailed behind, clutching desperately to his hand so as not to get separated. Her long, brown hair was held loosely in a high, messy ponytail that swayed side-to-side as she walked, and her dress was almost too revealing for this weather. "It's about time I finally get the opportunity to introduce you two! This is Sango!"

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Sango smiled, extending her free hand to him. Inuyasha took it in his grip, making sure not to hurt her nimble fingers with his large hands. To his surprise, her shake was firm and powerful, the squeeze hurting his knuckles. When he’d first learned they were dating almost two months ago, he felt compelled to warn the girl about Miroku and his… tendencies. Maybe Miroku was the one he should actually be worried about.

“You probably don’t remember, but we’ve met before.” Inuyasha smirked, eagerly taking his palm back and rubbing it out.

“I don’t and I’d rather not!” She laughed awkwardly, no doubt remembering the hangover she suffered from that drunken night a few weeks ago. “I believe you know my roommate, too? Kagome? She’s here somewhere!”

Inuyasha’s fists clenched, the familiar surge of points and needles prodding his hands with a burning fury. His head twisted around the room, looking for her long black hair and bright brown eyes but coming up with faces he didn’t know and an abundance of putrid scents that burned his nose. Realizing Miroku was staring at him, he stopped and attempted to come off as casual as possible.

“She is? Well I… um… hope she’s having fun.” He slowly nodded, turning and exiting through the door.

The November air was cold as shit and he wished he’d grabbed a jacket before stepping outside, his demon blood not enough to keep him warm at this time of year. A chill crept through his long sleeve shirt and as his senses began to quiet, he could smell rain approaching in the air. It was cold enough at night where the water on the roads would freeze until the sun thawed it mid-morning, but not cold enough for snow just yet.

He walked outside the apartment building, the music still loud enough to reach his sensitive ears as he shoved his tingling hands into his front pockets for warmth. He was almost tempted to let his fingers freeze and fall off, the cold numbing them and aiding in some form of relief from the undying torture.

“Oh. Hey.” A sweet voice greeted as he turned the corner, nearly bumping into her small body that leaned against the wall. Kagome stood there, her chocolate eyes gazing at him unsuspectingly. Her hands were tucked inside the pocket of her dark blue pullover hoody, the logo for their college printed on the front. Her dark curls flowed over her shoulders and around the bunched-up hood at the back of her neck, her messy bangs framing her face too fucking perfectly. She smiled shyly, causing a piercing jab to his heart as he forced himself to take a step backwards.

“Hey.”

Kagome felt a fluttering rush develop in her chest, expanding throughout her entire torso. She’d come outside for a quick minute to compose herself. The moment she’d seen Inuyasha standing along the wall of his living room talking to absolutely no one and drinking who knows what, she’d felt her breath catch in her lungs and couldn’t get it to come out. It was ridiculous, even for her, so she decided to come outside and start over.

The dim lights from the building provided just enough exposure for her to see the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, which she suspected to be from the cold, and his amber eyes staring back at her with both question and concern.

“I-it was… crowded.” Kagome admitted, tearing her eyes away and looking at the ground.

“Yeah, I get it. Me too.”

“What?”

“I-uh… I thought it was crowded too. That’s why I’m out here.” His voice was low and rough, catching all of her attention. Kagome’s eyes met his again, his gaze burning through her as her hands clutched one another through the large pocket in her sweater, trying to calm the wild nerve endings. She desperately wanted to take a step closer to him, as if he were a magnet drawing her in, but pinched the back of her left wrist with her nails to keep grounded where she was.

What was happening to her? These feelings were becoming too intense to think rationally. She shouldn’t have come to the party. She shouldn’t have wanted to see him again. But, geez, did she want to see him again. She’d kept her hands clean for weeks, kept notes in her cell phone and notebooks, and used hand sanitizer for added effect as a form of detoxing to keep her mind off of things, but it only made it all worse. She was sad, and Sango’s concern proved that it was noticeable. How could she tell her best friend what was going on if she didn’t even know herself? Kagome refused to admit the one thing that kept prodding at her mind. She refused to even consider that Inuyasha was the man on the other side of this. He didn’t believe. He had no idea what it was like to feel as crazy as she did now, and she would only be screwing herself over if she gave in and hoped it was him.

Inuyasha flinched, rubbing out the sudden sting that came to the back of his left wrist. He and Kagome had stood there in silence for a long moment. A small part of him felt calm and content, while a larger part of him trembled with agitation.

Fuck! He wanted to know. He deserved to know. If it wasn’t Kagome, all she had to do was say so and he’d move on.

All he had to do was ask and he’d have his answer.

A part of him felt like he already had, though. He’d sent a message, and he knew it was received. He’d never been so sure about something in his life. Why would shit come through to him but not the other way around? It just didn’t make sense. If he understood anything about this soulmate thing, it was that what happened to one happened to the other.

“Listen, Ka-“ The loud ring and heavy vibration coming from his pocket yanked away his focus. He pulled out the device, ready to silence the thing and turn it off completely when he noticed the name in big, bold letters. He didn’t want to answer. Jesus, why did he slide the bar at the bottom of the screen to accept? He was literally seconds away from getting the yes or no he needed, so why would he even consider answering this call? It was past ten, and nothing good ever came from calls from your ex-girlfriend this late at night.

“What?” Inuyasha’s voice came out harsher than intended. He held the butt of his phone close to his face, neglecting to put the call on speaker phone since Kagome was only a few feet from him, his ears sensitive enough to pick up the hysterical sobbing coming from the other end. He waited a moment, the cries never slowing enough to pick up the words she tried to mutter in between. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. I need you to tell me happened. Slowly.” He dropped his voice considerably, his tone coming off as soothing as possible while direct enough to be followed.

“… He hit me, Inuyasha.”

He turned down the volume on his phone, knowing Kagome couldn’t hear what was being said but not taking the chances. Her concerned stare burning into him, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip as the tension increased around him from every angle.

“Where are you?” Inuyasha asked, his amber eyes never leaving Kagome’s brown orbs. He knew he was going to regret this, but he couldn’t leave Kikyo alone when she was this scared or hurt. His stomach twisted and turned painfully, feeling a lump form in his throat.

He was pissed. He didn’t need the details of Kikyo’s situation to feel the anger gnawing at his entire being. He didn’t care that she was his ex and he didn’t care what had happened in their past. She was a sobbing mess, hiccupping between words and begging for him to come get her.

He got the information he needed and hung up the phone, sliding it back into the depths of his front pocket. Unconsciously, he’d taken a step closer to Kagome, her eyebrows raised, and her deep brown eyes drifting back and forth from his own to his lips. He slowly lifted a hand to cup her cheek, his palms stinging all the way, the sensation too much to handle as the padding of his thumb just barely grazed her soft skin so he withdrew it altogether. Fuck, he wanted to make that worried expression disappear. He wanted to soothe her features and tell her everything was alright, but the situation was such a clusterfuck that he couldn’t find it in him to say anything.

“I have to go.” He said hoarsely. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Inuyasha began backing away from Kagome, finding each step harder and harder to take. He was so damn close to an answer. He was so damn close to her. At this point, it seemed all logic was out the door. He may not know shit about her now, but he was more than willing to take all the time in the world to find out everything he could. God, he wanted her to say yes when he could finally ask her the dreaded question. He wanted it to be her. He wanted it to be Kagome.

She gave him a soft nod, and he was finally able to tear away and head in the direction of the coffee house.

Could half demons tell if they were being followed? Probably. But Kagome knew Inuyasha’s mind was too preoccupied to pick up on her. Every part of her knew this was wrong, but the horrible feeling that had drilled into her chest cavity wouldn’t ease up until she gave in and snuck off after him. She decided that she could beat herself up later about it. For now, she had to concentrate on staying a safe distance behind while simultaneously staying close enough not to lose him.

The icy drizzle fell around her, shocking the tenderly-cold skin of her nose and cheeks. The smart thing to do would have been to put her hood up but she was worried about looking like a shady figure hanging out in the background, so she decided against it. A little rain never hurt anyone.

Inuyasha’s pace quickened as he approached the lit-up coffee house, half adorned with autumn décor and the other half in semi-put-up Christmas lights. He forcefully threw open the door and ran towards the back where she couldn’t see him anymore, a curving wall from the inside blocking her view. Even through the cold, her hands felt clammy. She could hear the scared voice through Inuyasha’s phone. The voice of a female begging him to come get her. Kagome had no right to be jealous. She was jumping to conclusions, another bad habit of hers, and as per usual, it only created messier situations.

The drizzle turned to rain, her damp hair beginning to stick to the sides of her face and neck. She should just turn around and head home. She should go home, get dry, and put on some stupid romcom to distract herself. So why was she approaching the windows of the coffee house? Why was she searching the inside of the dimly-lit, twenty-four-hour building for the familiar face with the unfamiliar woman? Why did it hurt so bad to see Inuyasha cradling a girl's jaw, their bodies so close to one another?

“Who did this?” Inuyasha demanded. He wanted to punch the wall next to them and create a god-awful scene. He wanted whoever the hell it was that had the balls to strike a woman to see the damage he, himself, could do so that he would shrivel down in fear at the beating that was coming for him.

“His name doesn’t matter, Inuyasha.” Kikyo responded flatly, her dark eyes avoiding his. His clawed hands held her face, his thumb caressing her pale cheeks, avoiding the darkening bruise around her eye.

“Like hell, it doesn’t!” He snapped. “If you call me to come get you because some asshole you’re dating hit you, you better be prepared to tell me his name!”

“I didn’t call you because I wanted you to fight him! I called you because I wanted you to take me home!” She pushed his hands away, carefully wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. “But you didn’t even bring your car and it’s pouring outside now!”

“Oh, save it! I was drinking when you called, so I wasn’t going to drive around town like that. And don’t act like it’s the rain you’re worried about. I’ll get you home safely, so shut up.” He rolled his eyes, gently grabbing Kikyo’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, and twisting her face slightly to get a better look at the developing bruise. “Who was it, Kikyo?”

“Some guy I went on a few dates with.”

“Who was it, Kikyo?” Inuyasha demanded again, sick of her attitude already.

“Naraku. His name is Naraku. We got into an argument and the rest is history.” Kikyo lifted her chin out of his hold, turning away so the mark of violence was out of his line of sight.

Inuyasha clenched and unclenched his fists, the tingling making it hard to focus on one thing over the other. He sat back in the corner booth they were tucked away in, seething in anger and wanting to beat the ever-loving shit out of this guy. Hell, he would run off and do it right now if he knew what the asshole looked like and didn’t have Kikyo to worry about. It killed him that a woman he’d known to stand tall with pride seemed so small and terrified, so it made it a lot easier that she didn’t want to be looked at. As good as he was at blowing things out of proportion and going off the deep end, he understood that it was more important to get her home as soon as possible.

He made sure to steady himself, ready to take her arm and guide her back to her place, when the small silhouette in the corner of the furthest window caught his eye.

Kagome gasped, forgetting that the main objective, besides snooping, was to avoid being seen. His eyes pierced through her, and her feet felt frozen in place. Her heart beat erratically as her first instinct was to panic. To run. To get the hell out of there and avoid him for the rest of her life, because there was no way she could face him or live this down.

She didn’t expect it to hurt so bad to see him caring for another woman. She didn’t expect to feel so irrationally betrayed to see him stroking her cheek when she was well aware that this situation and their relationship was none of her business. None of this made sense to Kagome. For the umpteenth time, she asked herself what was happening to her. Her lungs contracted, the air traveling through her pipes painfully as the cold rain wracked her body into tremors.

Inuyasha stared out the window, his eyes adjusting to the difference in contrast as her features became noticeable. The rain caused her bangs to wave and stick to her forehead, the layers of black hair that once created a voluminous look clinging to her cheeks. Her mouth hung slightly open, drops of water running along her face and stopping at the texture of her pink lips. The dark blue sweater she wore looked black from the added moisture, her arms shivering at her side and her fingers shaking.

He jolted to his feet, that action startling both the girl outside and the girl beside him. Kagome turned to walk away, the steps quickly developing into a sprint.

But he was faster.

“Inuyasha, what are-“

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.” He ordered, not giving Kikyo a second look before darting out the door and following Kagome’s path.

The rain made it impossible to catch her scent, but he let his intuition guide him. His legs darted quickly, the downpour stinging his face as he turned a corner he’d taken on the way from his apartment. There she was, just a few paces in front of him, her legs running as fast as they could. His burning hands stretched out in front of him, his fingers latching to the arm of her baggy, soaked hoody.

“Kagome, stop! Stop!” He shouted, pulling back so that she’d be forced to stop running. Her chest heaved up and down heavily as he turned her to face him, her head hung, avoiding his gaze. “What the hell are you doing?”

She bit her lip, her breathing still quick, her body shivering beneath his touch. Inuyasha didn’t let go of her sweater. He was sure if he did, she’d take off again. The street lamps hardly provided enough light to see all the features he’d grown to favor on her face as she stared to the ground at his feet.

“Kagome?” He tried again, holding back the growl that crept up in his chest. No, now wasn’t the right time. She looked sad. Hurt even.

“I’m sorry,” She started, her voice a whisper compared to the sound of heavy water smacking cement. “I shouldn’t have followed you. I was just worried.”

“Then why did you run?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

His grip on her clothes went slack, dropping his prickling hand to his side. Finally, she looked up at him, peeking through the thick bangs that hung low and hid her lashes.

“Who is she?” Kagome’s voice shook, and it ripped a hole in Inuyasha’s heart. Fuck it all! What the hell was she doing to him? He should have been pissed that she was spying, but he was more concerned that she was wet and freezing, wandering through the streets alone as the night only got later. He shouldn’t have chased after her, but he couldn’t imagine letting her run off when she looked so wounded through those dirty windows.

“Her name’s Kikyo.” Inuyasha admitted, his shoulders sagging as he resisting the urge to step closer and close at least an inch of the gap between them. “She’s my ex.”

Kagome nodded slowly, the statement causing a painful knot to form in her throat. This is what snooping does; if you go looking for trouble, you’ll always find it.

“Why are you upset?” Inuyasha asked, reaching for her hand. She felt the shock. Felt the rush course through her body and she jerked back, feeling more scared than she knew she should have been.

“I’m not.” She lied, trying to seem as natural as possible.

“Why are you upset?” He asked with more fire, stepping toward her and snatching at the sleeve of her hoody to prevent her from leaving like she so desperately wanted to.

“I said, I’m no-“

“Tell me, Kagome!”

“I don’t know, Inuyasha!” She yelled, feeling her resolve crumbling around her. “I don’t know why I’m upset, okay!? I know I shouldn’t be! There’s a lot of things happening right now that shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it!”

His lips curled into a frown, his brows drawing together as he pulled her closer to him.

“Are you her?” Inuyasha asked, his eyes boring into her own.

“Wha-“

“Are you my fucking soulmate!?” He barked, pulling her another step closer. She could feel his hand traveling down her arm, her palm igniting in a heated blaze she’d never felt before. She attempted to jerk backwards again but got nowhere, his skin nearing hers.

“No!” Kagome tore her arm from his hold, her breathing appearing shaky and unstable. The raindrops curved around her brow bone, over her nose, and down her jaw, the path of them numbing her to further cold. She clutched her burning hand to her chest, wanting so badly to feel his wet skin with the pads of her fingertips, but finding the fear of it all too overwhelming. She was afraid it wasn’t him. She was afraid this whole thing was wrong, and she was following all the wrong signs. She couldn’t be rejected. Not here. Not like this. Not while he was looking at her, able to see her break and crumble from the weight of the disappointment. “I’m not your soulmate, Inuyasha! I don’t have one!”

“Bullshit!” He argued, seeing right through her. “Prove it!”

“Back off!”

“Give me your hand, Kagome!” He looked desperate and just as afraid as she was. She could tell he was trying to disguise it with anger, but his amber eyes said everything she needed to know. He, of all people, had a soulmate somewhere nearby. It was becoming painful for him, and he needed to know who she was. Inuyasha’s ache had become just as insatiable as her own.

It didn’t matter. The fear of being wrong overpowered her trembling nerves and made it impossible to put her hand in his.

“I can’t.” Kagome whispered, staring at his open palm, hot tears stinging at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers curled shut, the sharp tips of his claws biting into his cold flesh, feeling rejected once again. Why couldn’t anyone answer his damn question? He wanted to break something, curse and shout, anything to release some of the frustration that he’d locked in for weeks now. What the hell happened to happy endings? Why was this so damn hard?

“I should go. I interrupted something that looked important back there. You can go back to her, Inuyasha.” The hurt in her voice was so evident, it shook him to the core. Everything was so fucked up.

“No, look, it’s not what you think. She got into a fight with her new boyfriend and he hit her. She needed help, Kagome.”

“Is she okay?” Kagome asked immediately, mentally kicking herself for the slip. It was none of her business and she should have never butted in.

“She’s fine. Shaken up, but fine.”

“Is there anything I can do?” The hook in her voice was genuine, and Inuyasha wondered how it was possible for someone to instantaneously push their problems aside for a person they didn’t know. His shoulders sunk, unconsciously reaching his right hand forward and gently pushing a sodden strand of hair off of her pale cheeks and behind her ear. Kagome’s heart was so good, and he understood now that she was going to be the death of him.

“No,” He shook his head, relishing in the heat that radiated from their touch. “I’m just going to make sure she gets home safely. That’s all she needs right now.”

Kagome’s eyes fell back down to the floor, blinking quickly to block the dripping water from blurring her vision. His touch was so wonderful yet so agonizing at the same time. She didn’t know this would be so difficult. Of all the tales she’d heard of finding your person, she’d never once heard one so painful. It was always a happy start to a happy end. Nothing was scary or conflicting or the least bit trivial about it. Your hand sent you some sort of signal and the rest was history. A couple had once come to her family’s shrine and described the story of how they’d gotten that infamous tingle and literally walked around for however long it took with their palms held out like a flashlight, following the urges and sensations until they collided with their person and felt a wash of relief they’d never experienced before.

So why wasn’t that happening for her now? Why did she feel so much regret saying no when she had the opportunity in front of her to possibly end all of this torment for the both of them? Inuyasha was clearly going through it too, and she was willing to do damn near anything to ease the lines on his face and take some of that pain away. But she didn’t.

Kagome kept telling herself it wasn’t right. She wasn’t right for him. They weren’t meant for one another and they were only making things worse in the end.

“I should…” Kagome’s voice broke, betraying her as she tried to hold herself together for just a moment longer.

“No, K-“

“I really need to go, Inuyasha.” She pushed his hand away from her, careful to pull the sleeves of her drenched sweater over her fingers to avoid any further contact with him. “I have to go.”

She backed away slowly, trying to bite back the quivering of her bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry.”

#Inuyasha #Kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #miroku #sango #mirsan #kikyo #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fanfiction #angst #inukag fic #inuyasha fic #it's about time #my writing #soulmates au

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cancer-man-speaks · 5 years

Text

Cancer Sucks But You Live

My punctuation sucks because I haven’t evolved thumbs.

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Sometimes I put things off so long that I feel ashamed and in turn try to bury it even deeper in the pile of things to do. As far as excuses go it’s not the greatest but most fall short of that. A great deal of that lost time is laziness but there is also a part of me that doesn’t want to look back, that doesn’t want to remember what it was like to be where you are at.

Always obsessed with outward appearance, I cracked a joke when the doctor told me that my PET scan lit up like a Christmas tree on crank. I cried in my sister’s arms when she ran to me across the snow dusted parking lot of the clinic. I smoked a pack of cigarettes on the car ride home, trying to keep my hands busy, to do something other than think about what this all meant. I calmed down before walking in, steeling myself to be as stoic and stone faced for my family as I could. In my head I thought that I couldn’t feel this for the sake of others around me. The moment I walked in the door, I saw the tear streaked faces of my mother and sisters. The dogs milled around their ankles not sure what to make of all their sorrow and their inability to help (or in our beagle’s case, his inability to get fed.) All my bluster, all my hubris fell away when I saw my loved ones, the things I had to lose all in one place. They embraced me one at a time then we came together as a group and I lost it. All motor control lost, my legs felt like jelly. They as a group, as a family supported my weight until I could stand on my own two feet again. The beagle, ever caring, bit me in the ankle for being too far into my mother’s person space.

When I got home from the biopsy, that confirmed the doctor’s suspicion of cool case of type b small cell non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, I took to sleeping on the floor. I told myself it was to keep my bad back comfortable but the truth was it felt good to have something solid underneath me as everything was changing. The days passed and the face in the mirror grew ever more foreign. The bone under my flab carved itself out in my cheeks and jaw. Hollow pockets formed around my eyes that gave me the look of an upstairs basement dwelling gnurdsferatu. The only thing that didn’t change were the patterns on the pitted hardwood of my floor. I’d take off my glasses, lay my head on the cool floor, and follow the whirls in the grain with my weary eyes until they lead out of blurry site. There was a comfort in knowing that just because I couldn’t see where the rich, brown lines ended it didn’t mean they were done travelling.

Either through pity or not being able to read the signs of chemotherapy I’d occasionally get compliments on my physique. Over a beer or two somebody would ask, “You look really good, man. What’s your secret? You been going to the gym or doing heroin?”

Nothing beats the satisfaction of the anti-joke that is responding with an off handed, casual, “I have cancer. It beats the hell out of doing palates.” After you explain the sitch to people a million times explaining it one more time is mundane and boring. They will stumble a second on their words; not sure if you are telling the truth or a joke in poor taste. It’s the ultimate, “Gotcha,” moment. When your diagnosis becomes blasé your spirits soar.

From a few days after I was diagnosed letters poured in by the boatload. Friends, family, friends of family, people that had passed me once at the mall and paid a compliment to my shoes all wanted me to know that there was hope and that I was not alone. I’d read them and be dumbfounded by the amount of care people could express for a stranger. I was even more dumbfounded by the amount of care the family could express. No matter how hard I tried to blend into the background, to continue my weird, self-isolation from my family they kept firing salvo after salvo of cards and gifts. They’d send me gum, stickers that said, “Fuck Cancer,” (Because as we know cancer is terrified of strong language.), and all manner of sweet, sweet candy treats. There was no way for me to stay off the radar of the people that loved me.

I held it together through my first few rounds of chemo. It really didn’t bother me until my hair fell out. Until my fourth round I was feeling like a million bucks. I was getting skinny, I lost a few stray hairs, and I had an actual license to smoke pot. What 24-year-old wouldn’t love that? I was driving to the store to grab a drink and I ran my hand through my hair and it came back in tufts between my fingers. Pulling off the road into an abandoned store’s parking lot I started neurotically, compulsively picking away at my scalp and beard. Handfuls of the stuff coated the front seat of my 03’ Accord but still I couldn’t stop. I watched in horror as my reflection warped in the rearview mirror. I just couldn’t stop. After a half hour of what scholars refer to as, “Going bananas real manic like,” I regained my composure. I drove myself over to a friend’s house and had her shear my head with the clippers her dad used to shave his back. From that day on I was bald. It wasn’t so bad when I got used to it. Every now and then I would get a weird phantom limb sensation, as though I still had a rugged mane of hair, when the breeze blew on my naked scalp.

I was in and out of the hospital all the time. My guts exploded one time when a tumor responded to the chemo and disappeared. It was what we wanted with the tumor, not so much what we wanted for my intestines. They cut out ten feet of my goop and stitched me back up. I was locked up in the cancer klink for two weeks after that. They had me on a tube and all of my food and fluids came from an IV, except when family or friends were around. They would sneak me a small cup of ice cubes, a rare sip of water, or even, once, a whole bottle of tangerine Bai over a whole night. Even when I was being a real grumpy cancer boy my friends, family, and everybody else would stick it out just to let me know I wasn’t alone. In that exact same stay, a friend of mine actually saved my life because he was able to understand my garbled speech through my nose/mouth tubes. I’d been trying to explain to my nurse that the bile vacuum they had in my guts was pumping my green-black bile back into me but she may have been one of god’s special people. When my friend confirmed that my gunk was being pumped back into me, he snagged somebody. Without that kind of support, I’d have either been dead or in the hooskow weeks longer. Not every situation is bubbling gut ooze but when it is remember to trust those people around you enough to say, “Hey, my bubbling gut ooze vacuum feels like its acting weird. Can you go look at the container the ooze is collecting in and tell me what it’s doing?”

You’d think that with all this gut busting and chemo I’d be taking it easy. Wrong. I’m a big idiot so instead of resting I kept smoking, went to the bars regularly, and tried my hand at in the DIY rock n’ roll venue game. My nights before chemo were full of putting anything and everything I could inflict on my body. Jumping through tables, mosh pits, and drinking beer bongs to Jean Claude Van Dame flicks were everyday occurrences. I’d been dumb before cancer. With the ability to live a bohemian, YOLO life I did just that. I’d burn the candle at both ends because I didn’t know if there was going to be a tomorrow. Tomorrow always came; usually with a Jimmy Buffet grade hangover. Dumb. I was dumb. I did seven rounds of chemo then stem cell and not once did I let off the gas petal of stupidity.

But you know what?

I survived. Against all odds, against odds that I was actively trying to stack against myself, I survived. Was it a miracle sent down from the heavens? Maybe. Was it aliens? I’d like to think so. Was it the constant support of my friends and loved ones coupled with cutting edge, state of the art technology in the hands of the most competent doctors and nurses in the industry even though I was hellbent on dying young and beautiful because I’m an idiot? That’s a run-on sentence. It’s also a pretty good idea of what kept me alive, what will keep you alive. I was full to the brim with cancer while dancing on the brink of self-immolation. If I did everything in my power to give myself the odds of a three-legged horse at the Kentucky Derby what do you think yours are? I bet you take care of yourself at least slightly better. I’d like to think that if I beat cancer there is an infinite amount of hope for you, who is not an idiot with a death wish, to go into remission.

There will be moments in the dead of night where you doubt your own survival. There will be bright days that you will sleep away. There will be moments where you lay on the floor in the fetal position bathed in hot tears and cold sweat. You will think of what a life without this hell would be like. You will feel like the cards are stacked against you. The, “What if’s,” will mix a cocktail of fatal fear in your skull eating away at your resolve. You will walk into your kitchen and forget for half an hour that you came in there for soup. You will throw that soup up and lay hunched and miserable over the porcelain for an hour. You will wonder who will carry your name? Who will see your babies walk across the stage at graduation?

The answer is you. This may be the worst moment of your life but it will not be the one that defines you. What defines you will be all that comes after this nightmare. With your two hands you will make great works. Gardens resplendent in their rainbow will call your master. You will see the white sands of far off beaches, will feel the artic chill of the frozen wastelands allegedly known as, “Canadia” far to the North. Mortal peril will be replaced with picking up the kids from karate and a gallon of milk. You will watch your children grow and cover this earth like that brand of paint I can’t mention for copyright reasons. As you watch them cross that stage or walk down the aisle you will have at your sides the same faces that did their best to make you smile from your bedside during your weakest moment. Trust in them as you would have them trust in you. They will be your guide when you cannot find yourself, we will be your guide.

#cancer #survivor #chemo #cancersurvivor #hope #advice #lymphoma #non hodgkins lymphoma #lifewithcancer #lifeaftercancer

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eldritchsurveys · 6 years

Text

oo5.

Have you ever been served breakfast in bed? >> Maybe once or twice? A long time ago? What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? >> I make a point of avoiding challenges in cooking, unfortunately. I’m really averse to fucking up food, for multiple reasons. I’ll get over myself eventually, but it’s just not a priority right now.

Are you one to approach others, or let them approach you first? >> I mean, in what sense... What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? >> Well, my paracosm at that time was a city called Jacana Heights, and Eden Long and I would perform in movies for the entertainment of the populace (I think they like, thrived on it... like, in a sustenance sense? I’m not sure of the logistics because I didn’t think that deeply about the worldbuilding of things back then). So I did that a lot. Here on Earth, I kind of just... cut out clothes for paper dolls for hours at a time, built things with building sets, played with my dog, and later on, played computer games. Are holidays as fun for you now as they were when you were younger? >> I didn’t get any holiday experiences at all as a child, except for when I was thirteen and then it was actually horrible lmao, so actually... I have a lot more fun with holidays now.

Do you find non-fiction to be boring? >> Nah, unless it’s a subject I literally don’t care anything about. Like... Republicans. Are you a punctual person? Or are you always late? >> I’m not always anything. Do you own a thesaurus? Do you actually use it? >> Nah, Google is my thesaurus. What is the longest essay or research paper you have written? >> Ten pages about Jim Morrison in junior year. Do you ever write your own short stories? >> Hell yeah. Sometimes I even still do. Have you ever been close to drowning? >> Twice. Have you ever had a panic attack? >> Yes. Do you find it easy to relate to other people? >> It gets a little easier as time goes on, and as I meet more people. But I think it’s part of the human condition to always feel a little set apart. I just try not to give that feeling too much credit, because it doesn’t exactly know what it’s talking about. Are you ashamed to leave the house when not looking your best? >> No. Are you modest? >> Nah, not really. Do you ever worry about your loved ones dying? >> Not especially. Like, I don’t actively worry about it, since grief doesn’t particularly frighten me as much as other things do. That doesn’t mean I’m like “oh cool whatevs” at the idea of people I love dying or anything, it’s just... not a worry. Do you watch any Japanese anime? >> I’m coming around to it. I was talking to someone on Discord and they mentioned that it seemed like the older a Western person is when they’re introduced to anime, the more time they have acclimating to the differences from Western media. So really, I’m not alone in how much I struggled to like, connect with anime the way people who have grown up with it do. I was out here thinking there was something wrong with my brain meats because no one had ever presented it that way to me. Damn. Anyway, the ones I’ve liked so far are Kill La Kill, Ouran High School Host Club, Mahoutsukai no Yome, Kuroshitsuji, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (is that even the right order lmao), and... yeah, I guess Axis Powers Hetalia, although overall I connected to the fandom more than the anime itself. Is there a foreign culture you are interested in learning more about? >> You damn right. Do you have your own laptop computer? >> I have two. Will this week be a good one? >> I mean, it’s a week. I suppose it’s all right, as far as weeks go. Who is the last person that texted you? >> Sparrow. When is the next time you work? >> I don’t. Where did you get the shirt you’re wearing? >> It’s an undershirt, I have no idea. What are you going to do next? >> I’m not sure. Maybe another survey, maybe I’ll go back to my dashboard, maybe I’ll randomly start breakdancing, who the fuck knows. Do you currently have feelings for anybody? >> Sure. Do you enjoy eating veggies? >> Very much. Do you know the difference between a vegan and a vegetarian? >> Yes. Who did you text most today? >> I didn’t text anyone. Do you have a reason to frown right now? >> Sure, I suppose. I have reasons to do any facial expression at any given time, because like... life be like that. What brand is your straightener? >> --- Do you own any Converse? >> Nope, they hurt my feet and fuck up my gait because of my pronounced arches. Are you wearing socks? >> Nope. Do you enjoy long car rides? >> I enjoy a lot of things about long car rides. The freedom of the open road is one of those “quintessential American(tm) things” that I actually deeply understand and yearn for. I enjoy being in cars, probably because I spent so much of my childhood around them and in them. I like talking to the people I’m in the car with -- a lot of good conversations are likely to happen during car rides, especially on highways, because there’s not a whole lot of distractions, just you all and the road. However, I don’t like being stuck in the car for hours at a time without a chance to stretch my body, and sleeping in the car is a fuck. So, you know. Downsides. What’s the last thing you drank? >> Water. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? >> Hallie, online, and Can Calah, here. Are you one of those people who are always cold? >> No, I get hot much quicker than I get cold. Are you wearing any clothes that don’t belong to you? >> No. Do you paint your nails? >> Occasionally. Do you like doing laundry?   >> I mean, more than other chores, sure. There aren’t a lot of steps, it doesn’t involve icky things, and it’s not very time- or energy-consuming (the machines do most of the work). How about the dishes? >> Eh. I prefer doing the dishes in a sink with a window over it... anyway, we use the dishwasher. Do you even like doing housework? >> No. That’s probably really clear, lmao. Don’t you hate being blamed on? >> Of course. Do you even care about politics? >> Not the bits that don’t immediately affect me. Have you ever met anyone famous? >> Yeah, I met... multiple musicians, and Criss Angel once. And Julianne Moore! I keep forgetting about her. Do you check your email everyday? >> The Gmail Checker app in my browser alerts me whenever there’s new email, so I just... rely on that. Do you have a membership to the gym? >> I do, and I really need to fucking terminate it, but the legal bullshit is so overwhelming (gyms can be really fucking cagey and I wish I’d known that before I gave them my fucking bank account information to open a membership) that I never do it. Ugh. Do you tan? >> No. What is your natural hair color? >> Dark brown. Is it that right now? >> Yep. Do you prefer guys with dark hair or light hair? >> I can’t be bothered to care. When was the last time someone gave you flowers? >> Valentine’s Day. Do you expect to be married in the next two years? >> Yes. Do you have someone who is protective of you (father, brother, etc.)? >> No. Would you ever get implants? >> Probably not, unless it was subdermals. Have you ever dated someone of another race? >> Obviously. What did you drink at the last party you went to?: >> What was the last party I went to... Does the last person you text messaged have any tattoos or piercings?: >> Tattoos, yeah. Someone asks if you’re okay, but you’re not. Do you tell them the truth?: >> Depends on who’s asking. If it’s some person on the internet that I don’t really talk to, then they don’t get those kinds of details. Do you know anyone whose birthday is today?: >> No. How did you meet the last male you text messaged?: >> --- Where was the last place you went, that you hadn’t been to before?: >> Chicago in general. Last person to text you? >> Sparrow. Are you mad at anyone right now? >> No. How do you feel about your hair right now? >> It’s there. Being hair. Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants or pajama pants? >> I think these are considered sweatpants. What are you doing tomorrow? >> I don’t know, chillin, I guess. Is your hair up or down right now? >> It’s not anything. Do you know how to play poker? >> I’ve forgotten by now. Have you ever had an ear infection? >> Nope. What’s your favourite thing to order when you get Chinese food? >> I like chicken satay and lo mein or like... I don’t know, something with a lot of crunchy vegetables. And seafood. What did you have for breakfast this morning? >> The first meal I ate was the veggie burger. Are your nails painted a dark or light color? >> No. What color was the last fish you had? >> Like... as a pet? I’ve never had one. Have you ever read in the bathtub? >> No. Have you ever put ice cubes in milk? >> No. What do you use to remove your makeup at night? >> If I happened to be wearing makeup at some point, I’d use Burt’s Bees face cleaner wipes to remove it. Do you use the Facebook chat often? >> Nope. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? >> Digital photos didn’t exist when I was born, and I’ve never scanned any physical ones. Do you eat onion rings? >> Rarely. When did you last go to the zoo? >> I don’t remember. It was probably the ElectriCritters thing with Hallie. I really don’t go to the zoo that often, lmao. How many cardigans do you own? >> Two. One has a big skull on the back and the other one’s a Slytherin cardigan. Do you own a robe? >> Yeah, it’s a Ravenclaw one. (I’m a Slytherclaw, lol.) Music is playing right now, isn’t it? >> It was, but I paused it to listen to the rain. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? >> No. What kind of shampoo do you use? Does it smell amazing? >> I use conditioner sometimes, and it smells like peppermint, so yeah, amazing. Have you ever buried a time capsule with a friend? Did you dig it up yet? >> No. How many pairs of shoes do you have? Are they under your bed? >> Two, not counting rain and snow boots, and no, they’re by the apartment door. Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? Why? >> I misunderstood that for a second because “put to sleep” is what people say about euthanising animals, lol. I was like, “uh, I’m pretty sure no one’s killed me at the hospital, brah” and then I realised. No, I’ve never been given general anaesthesia, but I have been sedated. When are you planning on moving out of your parents’ house? >> I did that already. Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off?  >> I don’t eat it, usually. What was the last song you listened to? >> I don’t remember now, but False King by Two Steps From Hell is playing. What is your favorite lunch meat? >> I like chicken breast or turkey on a sandwich. Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? >> Can Calah doesn’t have a phone. He doesn’t need one. Who was the last person you texted? >> Sparrow. Do you have any sisters? >> Yeah, two. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? >> Yeah, because like... I drool toothpaste everywhere when I’m brushing my teeth, lmao. So I gotta pay attention. Who in your phone has a heart after their name? >> No one. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? >> Yes. Does everyone deserve a second chance? >> Sure, even if it’s not necessarily from me. I don’t believe in condemning anyone.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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