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xetswan · 10 months

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The Switch Of Daylight- Birthday Wishes

(Youngest Shadow New Moon)

[One] [Two]

Charlie and I are downstairs, getting the gifts ready right before we make our way up to go wake up Bella.

Or she’s already up we just need to give her these presents. Charlie goes up first with me behind him excited. He knocks on the door once and then enters. “Happy Birthday, Bells.” He says. “Dad, [Name] we agreed no gifts.” She tells us and I roll my eyes. “At least mines is not wrapped.” He hands her a digital camera, “Okay, this is actually kind of great. Thanks, Dad.” She grinned at it, Charlie then gives her another gift, this time it was wrapped.

“Goes with this one, from your mom. We coordinated- well, she coordinated me.” He explains and I smirk as I did hear all their phone calls. “Mines not a part of it.” I hand her mine, “Don’t open it yet.” She nods and places it next to her. She opens the gift from Mom, it’s a scrapbook. “To put your pictures in, record your senior year.” He says then pauses as he thinks for a moment. “Man, senior year. How’d you get old so fast.” He teases her. “Not that old,” Bella mutters.

“I don’t know, is that a wrinkle.” He jokes but Bella freaks out, racing over to her mirror, searching for the wrinkle. “I was kidding.” He huffs. “So not funny Dad.” She grunts.

Charlie makes his leave and I close the door behind him. “Open my gift.” I grin. “[Name]-” “I don’t want to hear it.” I cut her off, shoving the gift in her arms. I patiently wait as she opens it. There lay two silver bracelets in a box. Had two charms each on both, hers having a dark blue gem then a plate that had the words “Love you, always” engraved into it. Mine had a red gem with the same saying. She smiles and then pulls me into a hug. “I keep forgetting how cold you are now.” She laughs, stepping back and we put the bracelets on one another. “I love it, thank you.” She jingles it around and I snicker, doing it back.

“I’m glad because I had no idea what to give you. But I wanted to piss you off with a gift.” I winked, and before she could say anything back I was already out the door.

I rode my motorcycle to school, I had told Angela that I’d give her this book I owned but I kept forgetting. Pulling into the school Angela’s already jogging over to me. “You brought it?” I then let my face drop jokingly, she doesn’t know I’m joking though. “It’s okay if you forgot again-” I cut her off with my own laughter, pulling out the book from my backpack. She sighs and chuckles too, taking the book from me. “I had to.” I bump her and then stand up from my bike. Taking off my helmet and placing it on the bike. I turn back to her with a smile, fixing my hair as well.

“I miss your septum.” She suddenly says and I raise a brow. She starts to stammer as I patiently wait for her to let it out. “I mean, I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud it’s just um, you got rid of it out of nowhere it was a part of you and now it’s like an empty... Space.” I cross my arms, kind of agreeing with her. “I guess that’s true.” I shrug. I walk her to the others but not even within minutes Bella comes and they rush over to her truck like a flock of geese.

I watch as Bella forces them to take pictures on her new camera, they all have fun with it even though Angela doesn’t like pictures she joins in as well. It was cute. It ended as fast as it started though once that familiar Volvo pulls into its normal parking space. I smirk as their faces falter. “Oh good, Cullen’s here.” I hear Mike say dryly. “Yay,” Jessica adds. They walk back over to where I was. Jessica turns to me “You’re dating the other two but you’re not like obsessed with them.” If only she knew. I shrug, “Too many homophobic and judgy people for that.” They all give me a look. “You know I’m right.” I laugh, I then notice Jacob running towards my sister, Edward seems very irritated. I didn’t even realize the group went away from me as arms wrapped around my waist, lips kissing my shoulder. I take the arms, pulling the person in front of me, I already knew it was Alice. We stood there waiting for Jasper to join us.

We walk into the school together. Alice and Jasper holding hands. Alice was holding a wrapped gift in her other hand. “Do you think she will like it?” She asks me and I take an annoyed breath. “Bella doesn’t like gifts in general but she will appreciate them.” I was not annoyed with Alice, but more with my sister who acts like she doesn’t secretly like the attention she inevitably will always get on her birthday. We went to the side of the hall, I kiss Jasper’s cheek. “Hey, cowboy.” He scoffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. Ever since he told me his backstory I’ve been teasing him about being a “cowboy”. “Hi, darling.” He whispers for me to hear. I peek over to see Alice staring at us, we look slightly down at her since she is shorter than us.

I pull her into our arms, she looks up and pecks at my lips. “You know for your birthday you’re going to get spoiled, right?” She tells me in a matter-of-fact tone. “I look forward to everything you wish to give me.” I place my hands on her hips as Jasper then points out that Bella and Edward are walking through the door. As Jasper and I walk slowly Alice skips over to my sister, presenting the present. “Happy-” “Shhh” Alice hugs her, leaning over to her ear and whispering “Birthday.” Over Alice's shoulder, she makes eye contact with Jasper who offers a nod. She pulls back from Alice, trying to hide the gift. “Alice, didn’t I say no gifts?”

“You did, I didn’t. I’ve already seen you open it and guess what? You loved it!” She excitedly says. “You had a vision about my birthday.” Bella seemed annoyed but I knew she appreciates my girlfriend. “And about the green dress, you’ll be wearing to your party tonight. Great color on you.” She compliments her, also giving away the fact that she’s throwing a party for her.

“My party?”

“Please? It’ll be fun.” Alice pleads, I hold Jaspers's hand. “Can I?” He only nods and I drain his energy then focus on Bella who slumps, defeated. Only because I’m controlling her emotions. “I guess I can deal-” “Great! See ya at seven!” Alice hugs her before racing off before she can change her mind. I laugh, squeezing Jasper’s hand as a thank you. “Wait, Jasper, no fair with the mood control.” She pouts and he gives her an apologetic nod. “Wasn’t me,”

“Was me!” I called, we get dragged off by Alice leaving my sister slightly upset.

I told Charlie about the party, I was wearing this black suit that Alice requested I wear. Lately, she’s been dressing me in what style she thinks fits me best. Very fancy stuff I might add. I left on my bike to go help finish setting things up.

Getting there I was set to be with Carlisle on some things. I hold my hands behind my back pretending to act innocent. “Do you think I can change without Alice getting upset?” I ask him and he laughs shaking his head. “No, not at all.” We lean against the kitchen counter, watching Alice who is making sure everything is perfect. “I figured.” I take off the jacket to the suit though.

Bella and Edward finally make their way into the house, she’s wearing the exact dress Alice told her about in her vision. I smile, finishing up with Carlisle before heading over to Jasper, giving him a quick kiss. “What was that for?” He asks and I kiss him again. “Just wanted to,” I tell him happily. “You look amazing.” He compliments, I roll my eyes. “I never want to wear a suit again.” He laughs in response. “I’m serious.” “I know you are.” He kisses the top of my head.

Alice comes between us, taking our hands and leading us into the living room. “You two look perfect.” We lean down so she can give us both a kiss. We stand up straight and chuckle at her as she goes to get the lovebirds upstairs.

The three make their way down the steps, and Bella is immediately embraced by Esme and Carlisle. “Sorry about all this. We tried to rein Alice in.” He humors her. “Like that’s even possible. Happy Birthday, Bella.” Esme steps back with a grin on her sweet face. I notice Alice holding up a camera right as she clicks it to go off. The flash startled my sister a tiny bit. “Found it in your bag. You mind?” She asks, Bella shakes her head no as in she doesn’t mind.

“Dating an older woman. Hot.” Emmett speaks up to Edward. I hide my face in Jaspers's shoulder laughing. “What?” He asks defensively after Edward had elbowed him.

Rosalie then steps up, handing Bella a silver package. “It’s a necklace. Alice picked it out.” She walks away. Short. Not sweet. But short.

Bella finally looks over to Jasper and I. She waves and I know it’s for him, he does it back and I smile, proud of him. Alice snaps a picture of him and I then back to Bella. “Show me the love!” Edward pulls Bella into an embrace, they look deeply into one another's eyes. Another flash. “For your scrapbook. Now open your presents.” She drags the girl over to a table with a pile of gifts, a huge cake, and a stake of chine plates.

“Alice, I’m the only one who even eats.” She motions to the huge cake. “Hope your hunger. Here, this one’s from Emmett.” Everyone crowds around, I stand in front of Jasper. Bella opens it to see an empty car radio box. “Um… thanks?” She looked up, confused. “Already installed it in your truck.” He proudly states.

“Finally a decent sound system in that piece of-” “No hating on the truck. Thank you, Emmett.” Bella smiles then Alice hands her another gift. “Open mine.” Bella starts to open it then she cuts her finger on the wrapping. “Ouch, paper cut.” Blood appears and I feel Jasper tense and I get pushed aside. “No!!” I shouted as he lunges at my sister. Edward flings Bella behind him causing her to crash into the table. The plates shattered beneath her. I run over to her as Edward shoves Jasper into the wall but he ricochets off it and comes back at Bella. Emmett along with Carlisle tackles Jasper to the ground, Alice holds him whispering to him to comfort him. I groan at the scent of her blood, trying to help her. My jaw tensed.

Bella lifts her arm up and a pool of blood leaks out. I grunt, getting her to stand up. “I need to get out of here,” I say through gritted teeth. Accidentally pushing her onto Carlisle I storm out of the house. Not even moments later Emmett and Rosalie bring out Jasper.

I stare at him, draining his energy, his snarls coming to a complete stop. The two let him go and he falls to the ground as he’s losing more and more control of himself. I don’t even realize how far I am going. “[Name]! Calm down!” Alice shoves me back and I stumble back. He lays there collecting himself. “He- My sister. I am not sorry!” I rub my face, and looking back at him I notice dark circles under his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to go that far.” I bow my head down. “I forgive you, I need the night to myself and my sister though,” I tell them both, frowning at the sight. I go back inside and Edward was waiting outside of the door where Bella was getting cleaned up.

“You hurt her.” I spit out, his eyes glancing up at me. “You have brung nothing but trouble to our lives,” I tell him with sincerity. “I wouldn’t have been a monster if it was for you entering her life.” I point a finger at his chest, but he doesn’t respond. “I am angry that I now have to risk her life just from a cut.” I shove him into the wall. “You will fix this.” I furrow my eyebrows angrily at him, pushing him further into the wall right as the door opens. I step back. “I’m driving you home.” I grab her by the arm, she tries to get out of my grip but I don’t allow it.

“[Name]!” “Enough! You will go home with me and that is final, Bella!” I shout at her, “Enough with this game and risking your fucking life!” I scream, she finally drops down defeated and we step outside. All of the Cullens are watching, Rosalie is even tense from the scene. I let Bella climb in and I slam the door.

“You all think about this night. Think about how you’re putting my sister in danger.” I speak just loud enough for them to hear me and not her. “Am I clear?” I fold my arms. They only nod in response. “I will talk later.”

So this one is a little shorter than my last few but wanted to end this chapter here or else the next one would've been way too long for my liking. Also, Alice's height is 4'10 in the book so that's what I'm basing it off of. Jasper is 6'3 and I'm making [Name]'s 5'6 medium height bitch. I kind of got writer's block. Well not really, I can write the story in my notebook but I can't get it all on my computer because I get a little bored after a little bit. It takes me longer to come up with ideas when I'm typing compared to actually writing it might be weird but it's what I do.

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suspiciousspidey · 10 months

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How to Block/Filter Out Certain Tags

Hello, some people are being silly geese and sending hate to people posting fanfic content that they don't want to see.

Keep in mind, your media consumption is your responsibility.

But I understand everyone has triggers, icks, and things they don't want to see or read. So...

Here is a step by step guide to block posts with certain tags on Tumblr mobile app.

1. Go to your account, and tap on the little gear in the top right corner.

2. After tapping on the gear, you will find yourself at the account settings page with everything about your account and it's settings. Tap on the first option, account settings.

3. Once in account settings, you'll want to go down and tap on "Content You See", which is where you can have more control over the content that is viewable to you on Tumblr.

4. YAY! We are now where you can edit what is visible to you on Tumblr. You can simply filter out certain tags, or you can also filter out specific content and content types as well. Go wild! Customize your viewing experience if you wish.

And you're done!

1. For You: this is curated content tumblr thinks you will like. It's algorithm based.

Another thing to keep in mind: dashboards! If you don't filter out tags, you may see things on your dash you don't wish to. There are three different dashs on Tumblr.

2. Following: this is posts and reblogs from people you follow!

3. Your tags: exactly how it sounds, these are posts with tags you follow.

Hope these tips and information will help you enjoy and know a bit more about Tumblr. Instead of sending hate to creators, maybe try these steps first.

#preciousbbarnes #preciousbarnes #my works #resources #about tumblr #how to block tags

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18catsreading · 4 months

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Erika Ishii crits on 2 attack rolls and deals 70 damage to an enemy. It took a long time to roll and math all that!

Brennan: so let's just go back and narrate what just happened here

Becca: Four Hours Later

Rekha: yeah

Erika: oh God, what do I do? *Grabbing dice*

Brennan: so Danielle, you call to the sky a group of incredibly aggressive geese *honks* Kurraghran says "you think a flock of birds -- what the fuck? Ahh ahh their beaks are magic! The beaks are magic!" And Deal 70 points of damage to what would have otherwise been a very terrifying monster. It's a fucking armored tentacle tiger the size of an elephant.

Rekha: yea, but it hasn't met birds ... Has it?

Brennan: not these birds

Aabria: amazing

Rekha: you didn't think about birds, did you, Brennan?

Brennan: I literally, I will never not think about birds again.

Rekha: think about birds. Think about birds.

Erika: screeches like a goose

Sephie: there's an entire movie about this Brennan

Brennan: I know

Becca: okay, well now we can go home and talk about our drama some more!

All: yay!

Brennan: amazing, amazing

#brennan lee mulligan #dimension 20 #the seven #aabria iyengar #persephone valentine #isabella roland #rekha shankar #erika ishii #becca scott

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chaoticentitywrites · 1 year

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The Truth is Worse Than the Lie, Chap 2

Hullo, it's me again, I'm alive! Sorry this chapter took so long, been busy. One of the buildings where I work caught on fire a few days ago, so now half of its gone. No one was hurt, though, and I don't have to clean it now! Yay! Anyways, this chapter is really short, and ngl its mostly talking. I tried to make it do the emphasis thing, but I don't think it worked, so if anyone knows how to make it work, tell me your secrets. Please let me know if I should add any trigger warnings, or if there are any spelling mistakes. Any and all constructive criticism is welcome, and if you guys have questions, let me know! Enjoy, :::D

Chapter 2

Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot

It took them about five minutes to get to the lake from where they were. After they got there, they decided to split up, Keefe and Fitz went left, while Tam and Dex went right.

The first few minutes were silent while they kept an eye out for Rachel Elizabeth Dare, but eventually, Keefe broke the silence.

“Hey look, a goose!” he pointed out, “those things are terrifying. Did I tell you about the time I got chased by one?”

Fitz looked at it him, “you got chased by one of them? Why?”

Keefe shrugged, “I think my charming good looks and fabulous hair angered it. I was just walking by one and it went after me! I think it chased me, like, the entire length of Foxfire before I jumped into a tree to escape it.”

“Did that work?” Fitz asked.

“Oh, no. Turns out the little terrors can fly,” Keefe said.

Fitz laughed, “so, you got your ass kicked by a bird, that’s what your saying?”

“What?” Keefe scoffed, “no, no. I totally won that fight. Seriously, stay away from them though, I think that one’s eying you with its eyes.”

“What else would it be eyeing me with? It’s beak?” Fitz asked, still laughing.

“You know what I meant!” Keefe said, laughing along with him.

The two kept laughing until they couldn’t breathe. Fitz tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t. He had stopped laughing at this point. He couldn’t breathe, and by the looks of it, neither could Keefe. Fitz looked around, and finally spotted what he assumed was the source of the problem. Two people in Neverseen cloaks stood a few feet away, one with his hands outstretched, like he was about to grab something with them.

It was Trix.

“So, you’ve finally noticed us!” One spoke, in a teasing voice, “nice to see you again, boys. It’s been a while. Taking a trip to the Forbidden Cities? Chasing some geese?”

Fitz couldn’t breathe. Thankfully, everyone had been trained to hold their breath, but this was different. It was like any, and all air was getting sucked from his lungs, and from around him. From the fact that Trix was here, he guessed that was pretty accurate to what was happening.

He pushed Keefe behind him, making sure there was a buffer between him and the Neverseen.

“Oh, relax, little Vacker,” the same one said, “we aren’t here for you or Keefe. Although now that we know you’re here, we might have to expand the parameters of our mission. Actually, you might be able to help us with our little mission! You see, we’re looking for your brother. And Ruy, but that’s more of a side quest at the moment.”

Fitz concentrated on Keefe’s thoughts, which was a little hard considering his lack of air making his brain feel fuzzy.

Any ideas on how to get out of this? Fitz asked.

I can’t breathe

I can’t either

Dex and Tam. Get help

I can’t concentrate enough

Imparter

“Hmmm, I suppose your lack of air makes it a bit hard for you to talk at the moment? I imagine its hard to concentrate on anyone’s thoughts as well.”

Fitz nodded at Keefe, reaching for his imparter. Unfortunately, the Neverseen member noticed.

“Ooh, an Imparter! Can’t have you calling for help, actually.” The man snapped his fingers, and the Imparter disappeared from his hand into the Neverseen members. “Trix, would you be a dear and let these two breathe for a moment? I would like for them to be able to give us any information they have.”

Trix lowered his arms, and air rushed into Fitz’ lungs.

“We don’t have any information on Alvar.” He lied, catching his breath, “but if you have any, I’d love to hear it.”

“Oh, no. It doesn’t work that way! You give me information, then I take the both of you to Gisela, and you die, and Keefe does… whatever it is Gisela wants him to do, and we find our two defectors! Speaking of our two defectors, I don’t quite believe the fact that you don’t know anything about your dear old brother. I don’t really like wasting time, so you might as well tell me!”

“He’s not my brother,” Fitz said before he could stop himself, finally catching his breath enough to find Dex’s mind.

We’ve run into two Neverseen members. Trix and someone else. Could use a bit of help. Fitz thought.

On our way.Came the reply.

“Oh?” said the Neverseen member. “Well, that’s an interesting development.”

“Who are you?” Keefe asked.

“Oh me?” the man asked, “no one important, just some random guy, no need to worry about me! Although, I suppose you might want to call me something. I’m not very picky, so go ahead! Give me a name.”

“How about Stupid?” Keefe suggested.

“Nah,” Fitz said, “he looks more like an Idiot to me. Perhaps Stupid Idiot is a fair compromise?”

Keefe nodded, “ah yes, I do agree, Fitz. So, Mr. Stupid Idiot, why are you looking for Alvar? I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“Oh, well.” Mr. Stupid Idiot said, “I was hoping for something a bit more mysterious. Trix, I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?”

“Nope. I think Stupid Idiot suits you just fine. Or maybe, Annoying Stupid Idiot, on the account that you don’t shut up.” Trix replied.

“None of you are any help,” Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot said, right before Dex came out of the shadows and sucker punched him in the stomach, Tam right behind him.

“Run!” Tam yelled, kicking Trix in the knee, “we need to get Keefe away from them!”

“Couldn’t agree more, Tam!” Fitz yelled, grabbing Keefe, and running.

Dex and Tam quickly caught up with them, but unfortunately, Trix was still awake, and that meant he could take their air away.

And once again, Fitz couldn’t breathe. This time though, Fitz remembered his Pathfinder, and pulled it out, raising it to the sky. Now that the four of them were together, they could escape.

He did, however, forget the fact that Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot was a Conjurer, and as soon as he pulled it out, it was gone.

“Ooooh, fun! I wonder where this goes!” Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot was getting more annoying by the second.

Fitz saw Dex reaching for something and decided to make sure Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot was focused on someone other than him. He pulled out a throwing star, aiming for Trix. It quickly disappeared from his hand.

Then a flash of light came from where Dex was, a Melder in his hand, pointed at Trix. He went down immediately, thrashing on the ground, and they could breathe again.

“Oh, dear,” Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot said, turning toward Dex, “that won’t do.”

Dex shot the Melder again, just as Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot snapped his fingers. This time, he missed. The Melder appeared in Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot’s hand, and he walked over to Trix, conjuring a different Pathfinder. He leaned over him, then turned looking straight at Dex.

“Well, that’s interesting,” he said, raising the pathfinder, “Until we meet again! Oh, by the way, I thought of a name! Call me Mania.”

As the two disappeared into light, the four boys looked at each other.

“Well,” Keefe said, “I vote for continuing to call him Mr. Annoying Stupid Idiot.”

“Are you guys okay?” Tam asked, looking at Keefe and Fitz.

“Other than not being able to breathe for a bit, yeah, I’m okay.” Keefe replied, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Tam said, nudging Dex a bit, “right?”

Dex nodded, staring at the spot where Trix was a few seconds ago. He turned back to them and looked at Fitz. “I don’t suppose anyone gave you an extra Pathfinder?”

Fitz shook his head, “they took our Imparter too. Don’t suppose we have an extra one of those?” The other three shook their heads, and Fitz sighed. “Probably should’ve thought of that before leaving. Good job grabbing a Melder though, Dex. That came in handy.”

Dex nodded, once again staring at the spot Trix was last.

“Anyone else hungry?” Keefe asked.

Fitz stared at him.

“What? We just encountered a stressful situation, and now I’m hungry. Is that a bad thing?”

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare is known to visit a café near here,” Dex chimed in, “they serve food there.”

Tam rolled his eyes, “okay, let’s go get His Majesty of Terrible Hair Land some food so we don’t have to hear about it.”

“Oi!” Keefe said, “I have great hair!”

Dex smiled, and started walking, gesturing for the others to follow.

It turned out by “near here”, Dex meant “about a thirty-minute walk away from here”, and that walk was spent listening to Tam and Keefe argue about hair again, so it felt even longer. But eventually, they reached a quant little café tucked in between two stores. There were chairs and tables outside, surrounded by flowers of all kinds, some bird feeders, and fountains. A few cats sat on the chairs, basking in the sun. The sign out front read, “Hestia’s Café”.

The four walked in and were immediately met with the smells of human food, and Fitz had to admit, it didn’t smell bad. He spotted muffins, croissants, cupcakes, and many other pastries. The smells of food mixed with even more flowers inside, on tables and windowsills, hanging from the walls, they were everywhere.

There was a counter a few feet in front of the door, where two people could be seen helping customers, and to the left, a few booths. To the right, some tables matching the ones outside. There was a window with a wooden bar and chairs so that one could eat while looking outside. To the right and behind the counter was a fireplace surrounded by comfortable looking armchairs, a shelf of books beside the fireplace. There looked to be a door leading to a bathroom to the left of it.

A few people were in the café, sitting at booths or tables. Dex and Keefe went to get food and drinks, since Keefe was the hungry one and Dex had the money, while Tam and Fitz went and sat down at a table. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable. The two sat and talked for a bit, mainly about how long they should stay there, and how they could contact Mr. Forkle or Sophie.

Dex and Keefe sat at the table after a few minutes, Dex carrying the drinks and Keefe carrying plates of food. They ended up trying everything, and Keefe and Fitz ended up switching drinks, while Dex and Tam kept stealing whichever drink the other had.

Fitz ended up drinking a frozen hot chocolate, which tasted a bit like Cinnacreme, but colder, and not as sweet.

And so, they stayed, mission momentarily forgotten, talking about random things. Until the door opened, the bell on the door ringing, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare walked in, accompanied by two boys.

#kotlc #kotlc/pjo crossover fic #dex dizznee #hey I'm back kid #tam song #fitz vacker #keefe sencen #trix - kotlc #some random neverseen dude #I gave him a name L #idk if anything I've written makes sense #I'm vv sleep deprived #anyway imma go back to work now byeeee

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187days · 2 years

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Day Eighteen

I had my GOV students read Fed. 10 for homework last night, and they let me know this morning that they did not appreciate that. Heh.

I did tell them it’d be the hardest reading I’d assign. But we went through it point by point in class today, and all the confusing bits became clear. Then I asked them to tackle the much shorter and more accessible Fed. 51, which went really well. They were still quiet, at first, and hesitant to tell me the document’s main points, but I waited them out. And once someone spoke up, and the rest realized they did, in fact, understand Madison’s arguments, more started to chime in.

Yay, progress!

My World students spent their class time reading books and working on Culture Projects. They’re doing really well so far, and I’m looking forward to seeing finished drafts next week. The topics are delightfully varied since they can research any culture in the world. What’s funny is that a few students doubted me when I said that; they made me confirm it’s that wide-open. I think they’re used to much more rigid project requirements, more prescribed end products, etc... So this is a good “welcome to high school!” moment.

In somewhat unfortunate news, two students were withdrawn from my class today. One was moved to a lower-level course by her case manager, and it’s not the decision I would have made for this child, but it’s also not my decision. So that’s that. The other moved out of the district, which is sad because I don’t think she moved into a good living situation, but I hope the school she’ll be attending will have some resources to help her. Oh, and in trying to figure out why another one of my students hasn’t been in class for days, I may have accidentally uncovered a case of residency fraud. That’s a first in my career.

What else? There were a TON of Canadian geese in the fields around the school this morning- most of which are visible from my classroom windows- so that was a bit distracting. Then a storm rolled in, and it got so dark it may as well have been night, and it poured for about two hours. Also distracting!

So... interesting day for me.

#teaching #teacher #teachblr #edublr #educhums #education #social studies #high school #day eighteen

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this-nightmare-doesnt-exist-yet · 2 years

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Stop! Thief!

I've always liked going to the park, and enjoy taking my kids to feed the birds whenever we feel like having a day out. Usually days spent in this way are peaceful and lovely. Usually. When I woke up to a wonderful summer morning, sometime in the summer of my fourth year, and was told by my mom that, after breakfast, she'd be taking me to the pond to feed the ducks, I was excited. A day in the sun, probably seeing friends, and just having fun! We got dressed, I put on my flip-flops, and we headed to the store to buy some cheap loaves of bread, then took the bus to the park. Usually my mom would hold a loaf of bread and let me have one, or two, slices at a time, so I wouldn't throw giant chunks at one bird, then run out of bread quickly. This day I showed her my newfound restraint, and my ability to throw tiny pieces of bread, without being reminded, "because I'm FOUR!" so she relented and gave me an entire bag of bread to hold by myself.

Things went really well for a while. I got to feed some ducklings, the mommy ducks were able to get some food before the daddy ducks stole it all, and I had a train of ducks following me all over the park, as I happily waved the bag of bread around.

I'd gone through half of the loaf, and was a pretty good distance from my mom, when a goose showed up, and kind of honked at me. I thought it was cute and threw it some bread. This encouraged it, and a couple other geese that had suddenly appeared, to start honking for bread. Yay, geese! I loved geese. I thought they were the most awesome birds in the world. Still oblivious to the upcoming danger, I kept dancing with the bread bag, and leading the train of a quickly dwindling number of ducks, and no ducklings, and a quickly growing gaggle of geese. The geese were getting kind of loud, but I found out if I gave them bigger chunks of bread they seemed to like that, and were quieter. I stopped to fix my shoe, and looked up to see that all the ducks were gone, and so was the train that had been following me. Instead I was now surrounded by geese. Since I was shorter than most of them, there were geese for as far as I could see. Honking, and closing in, and staring at the bag of bread. At first I didn't mind, because I had plenty to feed them, then I reached into the bag and found out I only had two slices left. Panic set in and I called out for my mom, but she was out of bread, and couldn't really help me. The honking was getting louder as my captors got more anxious, and bread-thirsty, and I was starting to freak out some. I think my mom was getting worried too, because her slightly higher pitched than normal advice was, "Guinevere...I think you should throw the bread and run." She probably should have been more specific, because instead of lobbing the bread over the geese, and distracting them, I threw both pieces directly into the face of the biggest goose, standing about 6 inches from me, and he was NOT pleased. My mom yelled, "Run, Guinevere, RUN! Throw the bag and run!" I did run, but my confused, and panicked, mind couldn't grasp what the bag had to do with anything, and I was using it as a weapon now, to keep the geese as far away from me as possible, which wasn't far at all. They were nipping at my shirt and pants, and hair, and honking loudly at me from every side. Finally I got a burst of speed and managed to get a little bit ahead of the geese, but not very far. My frenzied bag swinging must have looked hilarious to any witnesses, because my mom was doubled over laughing, but kept yelling at me, "just drop the bag!" which I still wasn't willing to do. It felt like I was running from those geese forever, and I was starting to get tired. I saw a tree near the pond and thought maybe I could get behind it, or somehow use it to get away, and with the last of my strength I sped up and ran around the back side of the tree and felt like I was getting away when my foot caught on a root and SPLAT! I slid across the wet grass, and probably mounds of bird poop, and was soon pounced upon by all of the geese. They were pulling at my hair and toes, and pants, and shirt, and whapping me with their wing tips. I curled up in a ball and covered my face with my hands, while still holding the bag, which caused them to bite my fingers too. My mom came running all the way across the park yelling nonstop "Drop the bag, Guinevere, DROP THE BAG!"

I don't know how many times she yelled it before it finally dawned on me that the stupid geese thought there was still bread in the bag, and, still covering my face, I wadded the bag up and thew it as hard as I could. The bag flew about a foot, but it was enough to get the geese off of me. Right as my mom came running up, the geese triumphantly took the orange bread bag into the water, and as a final payment, for not having anymore bread, one of the geese grabbed my flip-flop from where it had gotten stuck in the tree root, and took it in the water too.

I was bruised, scraped, bleeding, muddy, covered in bird shit, and sobbing uncontrollably all the way home on the bus. I wonder what people thought my mom had done.

#my mom

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heavenlyborne · 3 years

Text

@logpcse asked: ‘Let’s Play’ Untitled Goose Game! (Let’s Play Meme)

“A goose? Who the hell wants to play as a goose?” Shalria snapped after finding out that it was indeed a game about a goose, just like the title suggested. She bit her lip. Of course she’d heard about chickens before but a goose was an entirely different sort of beast, honking feathered fiends that could hiss at people like snakes. It was only a game however, and maybe it might be fun to play? Stardew Valley had proven that one didn’t need to be a famous company to make an enjoyable game and so she shrugged her shoulders, starting up the game and learning how to be a goose with the tutorial introduction. ”Maybe this game isn’t so bad after all? It’s different, but okay... I like the puzzle element, figuring out how to steal which items from people. Wish I could do more against these stupid people though.” Crap on them maybe, or have them fall over thanks to a slippery surprise. Weren’t geese notorious for their filthy habits? The music and graphics were pleasant enough however and Shalria found herself enjoying the game more than she thought she would, eventually stealing the bell that the goose had wanted all along...

“I liked it but wouldn’t play a second time. Needs more violence, or to be an actual challenge.”

#logpcse #memes ;; let's play #omg zero I AM SO SORRY #I thought I had answered it but it was half-finished in drafts #Stupid tumblr #Well it's finished now and good lord lemme tell you this was a game I really wanted to play haha #Personally I'm horrified of geese #But that just makes this game even better #Shalria thought it was okay #Not something she'd play again but a good game one time round #That was the last game meme yay!

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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words-etched-in-her-skin · 2 years

Note

Someone I love dearly isn't feeling very well 🥺 Can they get something with a sick Reader being comforted by Alcina? Or Sal? Or both 👀

I hope they feel better soon 🥺🥺 Lots of love to them ♥️

"My pet?" Can you hear me?"

It was the deep concern that coated your Lady's voice that first brought you back. Your eyes trying their best to adjust to the bright morning light as you attempted to situate yourself on the bed.

A soft bed.. with soft sheets.. your Lady's bed. A sudden panic swept over you. Had you slept there? Had you been there all night? The last thing you could remember was dinner… and a hard thud against the banquet room floor.

"M-my lady?"

You squinted your eyes in the general direction of her voice.

"Sal, close the curtains, please."

"Aye."

"... Sal??"

Had she even been at dinner?

As soon as the curtain closed you felt an immediate relief as your eyes drank in the low lighting surrounding you. Alcina's brow furrowed as she sat next to you on the bed. Sal eyes glowing with concern from their spot by the window.

"My pet… how are you feeling?"

You weren't even sure how to answer that question. You didn't feel well, that was for certain. Your skin deeply flushed and your head throbbing. How long had you even been there?

"I.. mh.. hot? And sleepy?"

Alcina and Sal both chuckled.

"Yer got hot right, luv."

"Sal.. this is hardly the time to be raising their temperature even more."

Even though Sal smirked at the Countess' firm expression, she gave her small nod before turning her gaze back to you.

"Gave us a right scare, yer did."

"Mh.. h-how? What happened?"

Alcina took your hand softly in hers, bringing your attention back to her.

"While we're not entirely certain what happened to you, pet.. you were rather.. ill last night. Do you remember anything?"

You used all the strength that you could, sitting up right. The night before almost a complete blur as you tried to think. Dinner was delicious - you remembered that much. And you had just finished a lively conversation with Dani about why you loved geese so much when you stood up to use the bathroom. After that - everything went dark.

"Castle floors are hard." You muttered, pulling a thick, heavy laugh from the Countess.

"Oh, my pet.. you truly are a delight."

You could only make a half strangled noise before exhaustion took over and you allowed yourself to fall back against the bed.

"Heh.. and yer told me not ter fluster 'em."

"Ah, my apologies, pet. It is rather.. difficult not to praise you."

"Mh… s'okay."

You mumbled the word, the utter softness of your Lady's bed slowly beginning to envelope you - pulling you under.

"There anythin' we can get yer, luv? Sum tea, maybe?'

"... cuddles?"

"Well, tha' I can definitely do'." Sal replied with a smirk, looking at Alcina.

"Mh, wouldn't be the first time I've had three people in my bed."

"Yay."

The tone of your reply was utterly soft, causing both of them to look at you with such fondness that you were certain if you had been standing, your knees would have surely given out.

The strength of your Lady's hands as she slowly lifted you and moved you to the center of the bed - encasing you from the front. Her ample bosom more comfortable than any pillow you had ever slept on, forcing you to immediately snuggle in.

'Mh.. my perfect pet." Alcina purred.

You felt yourself flush even more - the familiar scent of sea water and cinnamon rolling gently over you as Sal slid in from behind. Her body firm against your backside, radiating a feeling of pure comfort, of utter warmth - her arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

"Sweet lil' luv."

The absolute comfort that washed over you at their sweet praises.. at their soft affections. Both of them holding you close, giving you everything that you needed and more. Your heartbeats aligning steadily as your breaths deepened. Tender kisses to your forehead and neck as the sweet slumber of sleep swiftly took you.

I hope this helps a little, love 🥺💕 Feel very hugged.

#depravity answered #anonymous #resident evil village #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #genderbent sal #lady dimitrescu x reader #genderbent sal x reader #and i hope they feel cuddled #and snuggled #and just all the softness #re8 asks

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bomberqueen17 · 3 years

Text

a palate cleanser

Here’s a tiny not exactly antidote to the story of yesterday’s chicks.

I took Farmkid a couple miles down the road to drop her off for her usual Thursday hang at her bestie’s house. (They do remote school there on a rotating schedule-- half here, half there.)

While I was there I got a text. From BIL. “Can you get chicks from post office.” Confused, I wrote back, “Now???” “Whenever you come back,” he answered. How are there MORE chicks???

So I went, and had to knock since the PO isn’t open yet, and the lady opened the door and I said “I’m here for the--” “Oh! Ducks,” she said.

“Ducks,” I echoed. “No, I-- ducks?”

“Come on,” she said, and brought me to where the box was sitting on a desk. She curled back a corner of the lid and a small fierce face with a distinct bill poked out, eager to meet me. Not the color of a chick. Not the bill of a chick. Much larger than a chick.

{photos and explanation behind cut NOTHING SAD YAY}

“Well that’s not a chicken,” I said. [image description: a live animal perforated cardboard shipping box with the lid slightly folded back to show two small yellow birds peering out of it, with large broad pink bills and black eyes.]

I brought it back to the farm and BIL met me there, and I said, “Ducks??”

He laughed. “Geese! Christmas geese. An experiment this year.”

I remembered that it had been bandied about, but I hadn’t realized it was really happening.

Anyway: I am delighted to report that goslings are SO FUCKING CUTE you guys.

[image description: a small yellow and gray bird, very fuzzy, stands in a pile of wood shavings facing the camera. Its tiny webbed feet are visible and it is very round.]

I am fully prepared to get the shit terrorized out of me by these guys in a couple of months.

#geese #farm life #poultry #livestock #about the author

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years

Text

Happy Halloween

Author: @shesasurvivor

Prompt: Everlark and gang creating a faux trick or treating experience for toastbabies during this time of COVID [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: General

Author’s Note: Happy Halloween! Sorry for the uninspired title, I seriously couldn’t come up with another one (I’m sure I will in another 24 hours, though, lol). I took a little creative liberty with the prompt, as I was inspired by the videos of people delivering candy while social distancing. At any rate, I hope everyone is enjoying this unconventional Halloween despite everything!

___________

“If I had been deprived of Halloween as a child, I would have been devastated,” Peeta says.

I frown, hands on my hips, as I watch him draw whiskers on our daughter, who’s barely holding still long enough to let him work. “I’m still worried,” I say. “The news says cases are surging.”

“They’ve been stuck inside all year,” he says back. “They deserve to have a little bit of fun on Halloween.”

I sigh, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door as I look on. The thing is, I know he’s right. The kids have been cooped up inside most of the year by now. Even the few times we’ve been able to go anywhere, it was always the safest way possible to avoid contact with others. Always wearing a mask.

“Please, mama?” Daisy’s eyes turn towards me, though she does her very best to stay still, so her whiskers don’t smear across her face. It’s those hopeful baby eyes that are my undoing. She looks so cute and so excited that I know I can’t keep fighting this battle.

“Alright,” I finally relent. “You can go trick or treating tonight. But you have to stay close to daddy and me! And do exactly as we tell you to do.”

Her face lights up in a grin that she can’t hold back. “Hold still, honey,” Peeta reminds her, but she’s not paying attention to him anymore. “Yay!” she squeals, practically bouncing in her chair. Peeta allows her a few moments of excitement before reminding her that she’ll need to let him finish her facepaint before she is ready to go.

I insist on going out with them, even though it means we won’t be home to give out candy. My mother, who has been living with us since the lockdown started, agrees to give any out to the little trick or treaters we may get this year. Determining how much candy to buy this year was difficult since we weren’t sure how busy our neighborhood might be. Eventually, we decided on one large bag, figuring we would give it to our children to make up for a lost Halloween if no one else showed.

“How will anyone see my whiskers if I have to wear a mask?” Daisy asks as Peeta and I shove on our jackets before we leave.

Peeta gives her a knowing smile. “I was thinking of that, too. So I bought you a see-through mask,” he tells her, producing the plastic mask from his pocket. I raise an eyebrow, wondering when he bought it, as the realization that he’d been banking on my relenting begins to sink in. I wonder what else he’s been up to.

Jackets on and masks donned, we find ourselves out on the sidewalk with our son and daughter in the fading light. The sun is just now setting, but with our children being so young, we wanted to get them out early to be home in time for bed. “Which way should we start?” I ask the group.

Peeta answers before anyone else has a chance. “Let’s go this way,” he says, motioning off to the left. It’s a little too quick for an answer, further raising my suspicion that he’s been up to something. But whatever it is, it remains to be seen. So I relent and let him lead the way.

Not many houses are lit up this year, which is precisely what I suspected. But Peeta leads us a few places down from our own to a house I know well. It belongs to our friends and neighbors, the Odair family. Only the house is hardly recognizable. By the look of it, they decided to go all out this year because their front yard is decked out in a scene of horrific marine terror, depicting scenes of sea monsters and crazed sea witches. Their family loves the ocean, but this is on a whole new level.

From the top window of their house, a wire runs down to their front fence. I study it, not sure what on earth it’s supposed to be for, when a voice calling down distracts me. “Happy Halloween!” In the window where the wire originates is Finnick Odair waving down to us.

Our son looks up curiously while Daisy is jumping up and down in place. “Can we go up to their door? Please, please?” she begs Peeta and me both.

“I think he has something else in mind,” Peeta says and nods back up to the window where a white parachute glides down the wire in our direction. When it reaches the fence, both children hesitate, looking up to us for permission. “Go ahead,” Peeta encourages them.

Letting go of their hands, they both run up to the basket and pull it down so that they can see inside before plucking something out and dropping it in their bags. Then they run back to us. “Mama, daddy, there was candy in there!"

A smile lights up my face as I finally figure out what’s happening. Finnick has found a way to deliver candy while social distancing. I look over at Peeta, thinking this must be what he’s been up to, but he’s watching the kids.

"Shall we try Johanna’s house next?” Peeta suggests when the kids are calmed down from the excitement enough to move on. I agree, wondering what’s in store for us this time.

When we get there, her home is similarly as festive as the Odairs. Scenes of chainsaws and deranged lumberjacks loom in her yard. That same wire runs from a window to the front yard, and another parachute is dispatched on our arrival. The kids tear their eyes from the decor and run to the basket when it’s come to a stop, finding more candy inside.

On and on, this continues as we make our way around the neighborhood. Haymitch Abernathy has angry skeleton geese figures in his yard. Beetee has a Frankenstein scene. Effie Trinket decides to go the more tasteful route and instead has immaculately carved pumpkins along her porch stairs. Everyone we know has decorated for Halloween this year, and they all have the same wire contraption rigged to deliver candy to the children.

“This is what you’ve been up to, isn’t it?” I ask Peeta quietly at one house as the children scramble to a basket to retrieve candy. Peeta gives me something of a knowing smirk in return. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says a little too innocently.

I roll my eyes. “Fine. Keep your secrets,” I retort.

He hands back as the children move on towards the next house, and I take the hint to slow down with him. “It was Beetee’s idea to do the wire,” he says. “But I just couldn’t stand the idea of letting them miss out on Halloween. Not this year, when everything has been so miserable.”

I shake my head, but I’m grinning. Leave it to Peeta to come up with something like this. It’s times like these that remind me of why I love him so much. Leave it to him to find moments of beauty in times of pain. To create them, even. He’s been my rock through this entire pandemic; tears well up as I think about it. “Thank you,” I tell him. “For doing this for them.”

He takes my hand in his. “Happy Halloween,” he tells me. “Just wait until you see what we’re doing for Christmas.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #shesasurvivor #submission #prompt #octoberlark #octoberlark 2020

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ddwcaph-game · 2 years

Note

i know this is heading towards spoiler territory but i would like to know what would be Delia's and Cham's wants to hear, needs to hear and dreads to hear.

Yay, finally some questions for Cham and Cordelia! Thank you for the question! :3

To keep it consistent with the post about F6E, I’ll have them speak in-character for their wants too.

Answers below!

Wants: "More than our flock getting together again? Papa finally letting me leave the nest! He keeps thinking I can't handle myself, he's thick-headed like the other dwarves too."

Needs: "This isn't your burden to bear, cygnet."

Dreads: "You will never be enough." or "You're a figpecker just like your mother!"

Wants: "What I want to hear? Hmm... oh, the birds and the bees! I always love to hear the bees buzzing and the birds singing to each other. Well, not like the loud, noisy ones like geese, but… wait, you mean 'the birds and the bees' have another meaning? Heehee, that's weird. And silly! Well, I like hearing happy babies too, and well, there's lots of lovely sounds I wanna hear! I can't just pick one! What about you?"

Needs: "You don't have to be afraid of making mistakes anymore, Cham."

Dreads: "You know the consequences for that." or "Shut up."

#cordelia #cham #dear diary asks

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rotationalsymmetry · 3 years

Text

Animorphs book 3 part 1: Fly Like A Red-Tailed Hawk

To the sea

Since I have accomplished the daunting task of putting food into my body, and my partner is occupied with reading what I've already posted, you get more Animorphs-posting.

Reading Animorphs 3… on my laptop, here goes.

Laptop screens are just not conducive to reading actual books.

They really do start every book with “I can’t tell you my last name”, don’t they.

Hang on, going to check book 2, Tobias seems just as ridiculously overwhelmed as Jake, in the opening section, I want to see if Rachel did too.

Yeah, Rachel has much more of a “this is intense and fucked up but also kind of cool and I can handle it” vibe, whereas Jake and Tobias have more of a “I want to hide under my bed, why can’t an actual grown-up take care of this” vibe. (This isn’t dissing Tobias or Jake, that’s a pretty appropriate reaction to realizing you and your four teenage friends are all that are stopping the complete enslavement of humanity, and also your family will get tortured if you’re caught. On that note, can’t wait to see Marco’s reaction to all this.)

By the way, I am headcanoning that Tobias stayed in hawk morph on purpose and didn’t even try to morph back before the two hour mark. That doesn’t make it even slightly less fucked up of course, arguably it makes it more fucked up.

Heh. Sure, the world is endangered from the Yeerks, but we’re going to get sidetracked by rescuing a single hawk because we’re people and that’s how people are.

I wonder if swapping a human life for a different species is closer morally/conceptually speaking to suicide or just, like, moving. Starting over.

Saving the world and getting around on the bus.

Freeeeeee the hawwwwwwwks  

What is “the encounter”, and do we get Ax in this book?

I still haven’t figured out who "the visitor" was in the last book. Rachel was visiting Melissa? Jake was “visiting” Rachel by being a flee? Innis Whatever was “visiting” Chapman’s head? Who is the visitor? Does visitor have some non-standard meaning here, is it about possession?

Something something Tobias stuck in hawk morph as a metaphor for disability something something

(Edit: ok, I'm annoying myself by not providing adequate context now. I think this was about, y'know, how Tobias getting stuck in hawk morph is vaguely analogous to someone losing a foot or getting a traumatic brain injury or something in battle. It's Sacrifice and Cost of the Fight but...without anyone flat out dying.)

Oooh cloaking technology! Awesome.

The kids have, like…no character. I realize they’re supposed to. I don’t think they actually do.

Which I’m not really complaining about. Just noticing.

The Generic Kids is strong with this team.

“I hated the way they all felt sorry for me” Tobias stuck in hawk morph as a metaphor for disability.

Turkey buzzard appreciation.

Oh ffs let Tobias eat a mouse already.

Tobias stuck in hawk morph as metaphor for pets. (Edit: in the sense of, humans kind of preferring to feed their carnivorous pets food that's as far away from live animals as possible. Of course some of that's a cost/convenience thing. But I'm pretty sure some of it is the squick factor.)

(Tobias having a big empty day with nothing to do) Tobias stuck in hawk morph as metaphor for homelessness.

“each of them (Tobias’ aunt and uncle) thought I was staying with the other” ok well at least it’s hand-waived.

Poor Tobias. Eesh. They don’t even care enough about him to call or text (ok, this was before texting was common, still) when he’s with the other Responsible Adult.

I do appreciate the, for lack of a better term, family diversity in this series. (Edit: I know I said this already. I still appreciate it enough to mention it twice.)

How come Tobias can sense the ships but the geese can’t?

Is “the encounter” an encounter with a Yeerk ship?

I see why everyone uses book numbers, these titles are useless. The Invasion made sense of course.

Yay wolf reintroduction!

I get the sense that Applegate is even more of an ecology nerd than she’s letting on.

There’s…a lot of difficulty with writing a compelling story about environmentalism. It just doesn’t fit well with what kinds of stories are the norm in our culture. I mean, yeah, Fern Gully, Wall-E…it’s still really hard and there aren’t many of them.   Not compared to, say, fighting stories, heist stories, cop or medical dramas, spy/political intrigue stories, romances... “(Cassie) was working as we talked, cleaning an empty cage with a brush and a bucket of sudsy water.” Cassie is the best. The rest of y’all should help her clean the animal cages. The one best thing about Captain Marvel was when Carol Danvers and Nick Fury were washing the dishes at the end (and apparently having a great time doing it), so that Maria Rambeau wasn’t stuck cleaning up alone.

 (I love Cassie's character but I really hope she gets some chances to just be a kid who makes bad decisions some of the time, and isn’t always The Mature One Who Patches Up Everyone Else’s Fights. I want her to have a moment like Bubbles in that one episode of the Powerpuff Girls where she just completely loses her shit. Let Cassie Have Flaws.)

Edit: after having read book 4, what I want is for Cassie to do something selfish, something just for her, preferrably something that people she cares about don't understand or approve of. Cassie has flaws, they're just almost certainly flaws that hurt her more than anyone else.

“I just got this feeling about it.” The worst thing about Captain Marvel was the “sometimes you can’t trust your senses, but you can trust your feelings” nonsense. They brought back that theme with Spiderman: Far From Home. This is the absolute worst fucking time to tell people that their intuition about what is true is more important than fact-checking.

Feelings are information and they’re great about telling you things about yourself. “I really wasn’t ok with that.” “I used to want that goal a lot when I was younger, but I’ve changed and it just doesn’t matter to me any more.” “I have good feelings when I'm around this person/I don’t really want to spend time with this person.” “I need to be told, verbally, that I’m appreciated in order to feel appreciated.” Feelings are shit about telling you things about the outside world though. “They’re ignoring me” maybe there’s something else going on? “They don’t appreciate me” maybe they’re just not showing it? “It’s definitely a Yeerk ship, I have a feeling” I’m sorry what?   

This is how so many people believe QAnon nonsense and Satanic Panic conspiracy theories. They feel right.

Feelings get hijacked by all sorts of things, and implicit bias is real.

(Also... sigh, do I really want to bring this up? A lot of learning to live with a mood disorder such as anxiety or depression is recognizing when your feelings are lying to you, and recognizing that sometimes your feelings lie to you. "They hate me!" do they? "I can't deal with this." That's a feeling, that's not a reality. Sometimes feelings have important information. Sometimes they don't. Discerning which is which is a big deal, and "eh, any time I have a feeling it's probably true, no need for reality checking" is not how you do that.)

“Have you suburb-dwellers ever been to the mountains?” so…most of them live in the suburbs but Marco lives, I guess, in the city itself? How are they all going to the same school? Is it a private school? Magnet? (Weird enough if it’s a high school, orders of magnitude weirder if it’s a middle school.) Why would a typical neighborhood school have some city kids and some suburban kids? Did Marco’s family used to live in the suburbs and then they moved but Marco stayed at the same school for continuity? Suburbs do have their own schools, right, it’s not like suburban kids have to commute into the city to attend class?

  Wait, why would people who live in suburbs be less like to go into the mountains? I’m so confused.

Cassie urging caution: wrong in context, entirely sensible voice of reason if the heroes didn’t have plot armor.

Marco, who assumes they don’t have plot armor: voicer of reasoner.   “You (Rachel) get off on the danger” Marco is not wrong. Well, he is wrong, that’s not why she’s doing it, she had her whole “I have to help kids like Melissa whose parents stopped loving them” hero moment in the last book. But she does get off on the danger.

It makes sense that Tobias is the one most willing to go “you all do whatever you want, this is what I’m doing.” He’s used to being alone.   “How long until the five of us were four…” I do, on some level, want stories to be relevant to people’s lives. It doesn’t have to be in a direct “fighting the forces of evil by turning into elephants and tigers” way. But…in some way. If Frodo takes the ring to Mordor, I want it to be actually a good idea for real-life people to attempt to do things that seem hopeless even though it’s terrifying. If Katara challenges Master Paku to a water bending duel because she’s mad that he won’t train her, I want it to be worth it for girls to stand up to adult men who tell them they can’t be on the hockey team. If the kids are risking their lives to fight evil, I want how they do it and how they decide what to do to be in some way relevant to, idk, people protesting an oil pipeline or whatever.

And what’s relevant to people protesting an oil pipeline is acknowledging that some people (like Marco) are not arrestable and still have useful roles in the struggle, and I do not think we are going to get that here. But we’ll see.

(I think ATLA kind of does that? Sure, the main characters are fighters and the big climax is fighting (although…there’s not just physical fighting going on in either of the big climax fights), but you see so many glimpses of ordinary people’s lives. That kid who connected with Appa when he was held captive by the circus. The prison guard who brought Iroh nice tea. Jeong-jeong the deserter. What’s his name who just wanted to get himself and his girlfriend out of Boiling Rock Prison and we don’t even know how he got there and it’s presented as not being relevant. You see multiple ways of people attempting to have kindness and decency in the face of oppressive societies.) (and…I’m not a huge martial arts person, but I’m guessing “mastering the four elements” is supposed to only partly about learning how to fight and actually more about…developing your character in certain ways. For instance, Aang couldn’t learn earth bending without learning to stand his ground, Korra couldn’t learn air bending without learning to be flexible and adaptable, and Aang couldn’t learn firebending properly without that whole “fire is life” thing. The fighting is one manifestation of the character development, but it’s not the point. And that’s why Aang couldn’t shortcut the process by just going into the Avatar state.)

(Animorphs could be following this pattern if it wanted too, and maybe it is, I’m not sure. Maybe the elephant isn’t just good for tossing Hork Bajir Controllers around with your trunk, maybe it’s about learning strength. Maybe the cat is about learning a tough attitude. Maybe the hawk is, idk, freedom or something. I’ll keep an eye open for Metaphorical Character Growth.)

#food mention #torture mention #animorphs read-through #animorphs #the more times I type animorphs the worse my spelling gets #suicide mention #animorphs book 3 #my mind goes all over the place doesn't it

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