#hope to post some funky class work soon
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iolite-flames · 3 months ago
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Ragh college starts yet again 😔 time to get that art student grind so plz excuse me if im out for a while :/
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fruitsoxs · 1 year ago
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Having Vash and Wolfwood as roommates would include;;
warnings;; i don't define a relationship, but it kinda hints at all three of you being together, lots of fluff, nothing nsfw (but I'm thinking about doing some nsfw headcanons for this in the future if anyone is interested)
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How it happens/Meeting Vash
You’re basically desperate when your plans for moving in with your ex best friend fall through, leaving you basically homeless right before the semester is about to start
Looking online, in the newspaper even, you’re searching for any place that doesn’t look scummy, creepy, or charges you up the ass
Knowing full well that living without roommates in this economy is impossible, you’re hoping to find some nice people-
And boy do you luck out
Posted on some stupid roommate finder website is an add for a three bedroom apartment that’s in a sort of sketchy part of town, but offers protection for anyone willing to brave it. The guy that posted it seems nice, the ad is kinda funny, and the rent is cheap
You decide to try it out
When you first meet Vash, it’s in a little coffee shop near the uni you’re attending. It’s a safe spot to meet with a stranger, and he was cool with whatever you suggested. Green flag.
He’s pretty nice, funny, and insanely cute. He tells you that the other roommate, a man he calls “Nicholas” is at work, but from the way Vash talks about him you assume he’s a chill dude too
You can’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how attractive Vash is. He’s blonde, with a cute little mole, and his eyes are like…woah
Plus he’s got a cute little piercing !!!
No guy this good looking should be this nice
You decide pretty quickly this feels like a good match, and bam the deed is done
You move in next week, get your stuff situated and suddenly you have two new roommates
Meeting Wolfwood
It’s almost disappointing how little you see of the other roommate in the first week. Vash explains that he’s been taking on extra shifts at work but you still kinda feel like maybe the man is avoiding you?
All you know of the man is that he smokes, drinks a little, and has weird taste in movies
You see random objects strewn across the house that belong to him and you start trying to figure out his personality in your head
You decide that he’s probably some skinny stoner, and you’re pretty confident in that hypothesis until you actually see him
You bump into him in the morning right before you head off to start your first day of class
You literally bump into him-
As he’s leaving the bathroom, you’re in the hallways and a collision occurs. To make matters worse he’s shirtless
And he’s hot
He’s wearing sweatpants, his toned torso out in the open, and his hair is a bit of a mess. You can tell it’s sort of a short wolf-cut though- and it’s definitely working on him 
He kinda smirks down at you and says it’s nice to finally “run” into you
And fuck- how are you supposed to survive having TWO hot roomates
General Chaos
You find out pretty quickly that these two are not the most normal people
And you freaking love it
Once Wolfwood’s insane work schedule chills out, you finally get chance to see the duo in action
They kind act like an old married couple. It’s a bit scary at first, and you fear you might be third wheeling but you soon mix into their dynamic quite nicely
Once wolfwood starts calling you some funky nickname you know you’ve wormed your way into their hearts
Your schedules all clash a  bit, but you all find time to see each other throughout the day. Wolfwood has a morning class like you, and so you end up eating breakfast together most days. You start taking turns making food for each other
No matter what you both at least drink an entire pot of coffee together, and complain about life
Vash and you meet up in the afternoon, since your afternoon classes are close to each other. He’s the one who texts you the first time to ask if you want to meet up- and your heart does a little flip
It has become a habit. Whenever you two aren’t busy with other things, you’ll sit outside on a grassy area and talk for a second
All three of you hang out at night when Wolfwood isn’t working insane night shifts
Saturdays are movie nights. You HAVE to attend movie nights
It gets crazy. Especially when Wolfwood graciously shares his stuff.
The first time they see you cry- you’re pretty sure they might explode
You’re stressed from school, whatever job you might have, and probably a few family problems too. Vash walks in to your room to ask you what you want for dinner, sees the tears and whips out his phone to tell Wolfwood
He then immediately rolls you up in a blanket and makes you cuddle him on the couch to destress.
He’s insanely patient with you, rubbing your back and letting you vent
Wolfwood kicks open the door with your favorite comfort food moments later, and the three of you sit and watch a stupid movie
Wolfwood keeps his arm around you, and lets you rest your head on his chest
Vash’s hand is in yours
They’re pretty respectful of your privacy at first- but they’re both like the clingiest friends ever
Vash doesn’t mean to- and will apologize if he oversteps boundaries 
Wolfwood on the other hand just doesn’t care. He’ll waltz into your room and go “Hey- stop screaming- I need you to make sure I got this math correct.”
Crazy competitive game nights, that sometimes end in you pulling Wolfwood off of Vash as Vash screams for his life to be spared (he like staking stars from Wolfwood in mario party) (It ends in bloodshed every time) (He should really stop)
Grocery shopping is just Wolfwood acting like a dad while you and Vash are off shoveling sweets into the cart (He secretly puts his favorite treats in the cart too though)
You and Vash stage an intervention for Wolfwood when he gets a little bit too into buying random jewelry covered in crosses (“we know you have religious trauma- and yes you look good in them- but come on-”). He walks into the apartment, sees the sign, and then walks out
Vash invites his brother over once and you’re pretty sure you’re about to be cut. (“No Vash- Knives is nice…he’s just scary.” “He just has a resting “I want to murder” you face!”)
Feelings bloom?
They really warm up to you. One day it becomes clear that you’re just…part of them now. Like they can’t imagine you ever leaving their side
It’s the same for you. You walk out one day, and grab your mug of coffee from Wolfwood and…you just kinda spot and think that you really like these guys. Things feel right
I think overtime things just slowly get intimate- 
like you start holding Vash’s hand just casually throughout the day
And sometimes Wolfwood will come rest his head on your shoulder from behind, and you’ll reach up and run your hand through his hair
Casual soft touches just become a thing you know?
Vash lets his hand rise under your shirt a bit when you’re sitting with him on the couch
And eventually…maybe they become less casual?
Wolfwood puts his hand on your waist as he passes by behind you
The sexual tension is like palpable 
I don’t really know who finally kisses who- or how things go from wholesome to spicy- but it gets there eventually
And soon you three are more than just roommates, more than friends, and even if you don’t know what it is- it’s kinda perfect
You renew the lease for the next year, and you’re pretty damn happy you were homeless for that little bit now
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sunnystudiesmaybe · 4 months ago
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Hello ^,^
I'm Sunny! I'm a college student who's trying their best but still really struggling. I have a hard time studying and getting myself to do work. I've always been like this, but I wanted to make this to hold myself accountable and get work done. Hopefully it sticks. I have a hard time creating solid habits.
I'll be putting a lot of normal daily blog type stuff. Examples include my assignments and what I struggled with, what works for me, my progress on my academics, and some daily stuff in my life. I tend to put school-related things before the "normal" ones.
I feel quite alone when doing my academics, so I wanna keep stuff here to feel less alone. Maybe someone might find my posts and feel better or relate to me.
I don't really mean to make this an aesthetically pleasing blog. I want it to be genuine. Some days I might want to make things look pretty and cute. Other days, I might struggle to even write properly. This is a space that is meant to be safe for me to go to any time, whether I'm bedridden at home because of illness or happily hopping about campus, getting stuff done.
Before I continue, here are some things about me that affect what I do:
In high school, I lost motivation to do things, including going to school and doing work. I missed most of my junior and senior years, but still graduated with Honors. I flex that because it's proof that despite my circumstances, I can push myself past what I thought my limits were to achieve what I want.
I've always passed my classes despite my procrastination and poor executive function. I previously had intense academic anxiety to keep me afloat, but now that I don't I need to try to adult and get myself together, I'm struggling more than I ever have.
My funky little brain is full of a lot of ideas, so posts are likely to often be long (I've been writing for about 10-15 minutes I think). This is basically a brain dump.
Seeing ADHD study tips really encouraged me to push myself in my academics again. While I haven't been diagnosed or previously expected to have it, I do have Autism. The diagnosis provided a place to start when looking to solve my personal problems. I've found accountability and body-doubling to work for me the most. I've been using study-with-me videos, written agendas, and therapy to help myself.
What I do may not work for others. I hope I can give at least one person motivation to keep trying or help one person feel less alone in their struggle. With education being such a big talking point now with how tight money is becoming, there is more pressure than ever to do well.
I hope everyone can find something that works for them. I'll be posting more soon :)
(P.S., most of my blurbs so far are 250-500 words!)
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lindsaywesker · 2 years ago
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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the weekend!
Wow! Here we are again: Friday! Where did that week go? No, seriously, where did that week go?
This morning I’m off to the recycling plant in Park Royal. I told you I’d be de-cluttering this year! Everything’s gotta go! Now, don’t tell her I told you but The Trouble is a bit of a backseat driver. She said to me, “Don’t give away any of my stuff!” I said, “Are you backseat driving my recycling?” She scoffed in disgust. I said, “I’ve got bags in my room that contain gifts you bought on holiday but never gave to anyone!” “No!” she cried. “Yes, my friend!” I replied and, tomorrow, I’m putting those bags on her desk!
Here’s my confession: I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to work. I’ll probably be fine once I get started but, right now, I want to spend a little more time on my sofa in my front room. The Christmas tree is still up and I love those pretty, twinkling lights! I think I want to sit here for a few more weeks, wrap up warm, eat a few more snacks and watch whatever’s on the TV. I guess a lot of you feel the same? Post-Christmas holiday blues is a bitch! “Ah, grow a pair!” I can hear some of you screaming.
Rather than pay workers a living wage, the government are going to introduce anti-strike legislation so, if you don’t like your wage and your work conditions, you’ll just have to put up or shut up! Starve them, freeze them, poison them, they will do whatever they can to very subtly and very quietly kill off the working class. Democide. There are now laws that say you can’t protest and soon there will be laws saying you can’t strike. What next? Free speech?
Spent a productive Thursday actually writing words for myself. For me. For my own project. That felt good. Recently, somebody asked me to write something for the launch of their new album. I sent them my contribution and said, “I look forward to a copy of the album?” Nothing. Silence. Nada. Won’t be doing that again! From now on, my words are just for me. The audacity! Go and get your freeness from somebody else!
Hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’. Tomorrow, we start on The Letter L (Part One). Executive Producer on the show is Della Duncan and you will be blown away! Sharon Newton has done Part Two and I’ve got Gayle Dumont currently preparing Part Three. Bringing the big guns out!
Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?
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meichenxi · 3 years ago
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Hey! I hope you feel better soon
We haven't had a good long linguistics rant from you in a while!! How about you tell us about your favourite lingustical feature or occurrence in a language? Something like a weird grammatical feature or how a language changed
If this doesn't trigger any rant you have stored feel free to educate on any topic you can spontaneously think of, I'd love to hear it :D
ALRIGHT KARO, let's go!! This is a continuation of the other ask I answered recently, and is the second part in a series about linguistic complexity. I suggest you check that one out first for this to properly make sense! (I don't know how to link but uh. it's the post behind this on my blog)
Summary of previous points: the complexity of a language has nothing to do with the 'complexity' of the people that speak it; complexity is really bloody hard to measure; some linguists in an attempt to be not racist argue that 'all languages are equally complex', but this doesn't really seem to be the case, and also still equates cognitive ability with complexity of language which is just...not how things work; arguing languages have different amounts of complexity has literally nothing to do with the cognitive abilities of those who speak it.
Ok. Chinese.
Normally when we look at complexity we like to look at things like number of verb classes, noun classes, and so on. But Chinese doesn't really do any of this.
So what do Chinese and languages like Chinese do that is so challenging to the equicomplexity hypothesis, the idea that all languages are equally complex? I’ll start by talking about some of the common properties of isolating languages - and these properties are often actually used as examples of why these languages are as complex, just in different ways. Oh Melissa, I hear you ask in wide-eyed admiration/curiousity. What are they? By isolating languages, I mean languages that tend to have monosyllabic words, little to no conjugation, particles instead of verb or noun endings, and so on: so languages like Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai and many others in East and South East Asia.
Here’s a list of funky things in isolating languages that may or may not make a language more complex than linguists don't really know what to do with:
Classifiers
Chengyu and 4-word expressions
Verb reduplication, serialisation and resultative verbs
'Lexical verbosity' = complex compounding and word forming strategies
Pragmatics
Syntax
I'll talk about the first two briefly, but I don't have space for all. For clarity of signposting my argument: many linguists use these as explanations of why languages like Chinese are as complex, but I'm going to demonstrate afterwards why the situation is a bit more complicated than that. You could even say it's...complex.
1) Classifiers
You know about classifiers in Chinese, but what you may be interested to learn is that almost all isolating languages in South East Asia use them, and many in fact borrow from each other. The tonal, isolating languages in South East Asia have historically had a lot of contact through intense trade and migration, and as such share a lot of properties. Some classifiers just have to go with the noun: 一只狗,一条河 etc. First of all, if we're defining complexity as 'the added stuff you have to remember when you learn it' (my professors hate me), it's clear that these are added complexity in exactly the same way gender is. Why is it X, and not Y? Well, you can give vague answers ('it's sort of...ribbony' or 'it's kinda...flat'), but more often than not you choose the classifier based on the vibe. Which is something you just have to remember.
Secondly, many classifiers actually have the added ability to modify the type of noun they're describing. These are familiar too in languages like English: a herd of cattle versus a head of cattle. So we have 一枝花 which is a flower but on a stem ('a stem of flower'), but also 一朵花 which is a flower but without the stem (think like...'a blob of flower'). Similarly with clouds - you could have a 一朵云 'blob of cloud' (like a nice, fluffy cloud in a children's book), but you could also have 一片云 which is like a huge, straight flat cloud like the sea...and so on. These 'measure words' do more than measure: they add additional information that the noun itself does not give.
Already we're beginning to see the outline of the problem. Grammatical complexity is...well, grammatical. We count the stuff which languages require you to express, not the optional stuff - and that's grammar. The difference between better and best is clearly grammatical, as is go and went. But what about between 'a blob of cloud' versus 'a plain of cloud'? Is that grammatical? Well, maybe: you do have to include a measure word when you say there's one of it, and in many Chinese languages that are not Mandarin you have to include them every single time you use a possessive: my pair of shoes, my blob of flower etc. But you don't always have to include one specific classifier - there are multiple options, all of which are grammatical. So should we include classifiers as part of the grammar? Or part of the vocabulary (the 'lexicon')?
Err. Next?
2) Chengyu and 4-character expressions + 4) Lexical verbosity
This might seem a bit weird: these are obviously parts of the vocab! What's weirder, though, is that many isolating languages have chengyu, not just Chinese. And if you don't use them, many native speakers surveys suggest you don't sound native. This links to point number 4, which is lexical verbosity. 'Lexical verbosity' means a language has the ability to express things creativity, in many different manners, all of which may have a slightly different nuance. The kind of thing you love to read and analyse and hate to translate.
But it is important. If we look at the systems that make up the grand total of a language, vocabulary is obviously one of them: a language with 1 million root forms is clearly more 'complex', if all else is exactly the same, than a language with 500,000. Without even getting into the whole debacle about 'what even is a word', a language that has multiple registers (dialect, regional, literary, official etc) that all interact is always going to be more complex than one that doesn't, just because there's more of it. More rules, more words, more stuff.
Similarly, something that is the backbone of modern Chinese 'grammar' and yet you may never have thought of as such is is compound words. We don't tend to traditionally teach this as grammar, and I don't have time to give a masterclass on it now, but let me assure you that compounding - across the world's language - is hugely varied. Some languages let you make anything a compound; some only allow noun+noun compounds (so no 'blackbird', as black is an adjective); some only allow head+head compound (so no 'sabretooth', because a sabretooth is a type of tiger, not tooth); some only allow compounds one way ('ring finger' but not 'finger ring': though English does allow the other way around in some other words), and so on.
You'll have heard time and time again that 'Chinese is an isolating language, and isolating languages like monosyllabic words'. Well. Sort of. You will also have noticed yourself that actually most modern Chinese words are disyllabic: 学习,工作,休息,吃饭 and so on. This is radically different to Classical Chinese, where the majority were genuinely one syllable. But many Chinese speakers still have access to the words in the compounds, and so they can be manipulated on a character-by-character basis: most adults will be able to look at 学习 and understand that 学 and 习 both exist as separate words: 开学,学生,复习,练习 and so on.
I'm going to sort of have to ask you to take my word on it as I don't have time to prove how unique it is, but the ability that Chinese has to turn literally anything into a compound is staggering. It's insane. It's...oh god I'm tearing up slightly it's just a LOT guys ok. It's a lot. There are 20000000 synonyms for anything you could ever want, all with slightly different nuances, because unlike many other languages, Chinese allows compounds where the two bits of the compound mean, largely speaking, very similar things. So yes, you have compounds like 开学 which is the shortened version of 开始学习, or ones with an object like 吃饭 or 睡觉, but you also have compounds like 工作 where both 工 and 作 kind of...mean 'to work'...and 休息 where both 休 and 息 mean 'to rest'...and so on. So you can have 感 and 情 and 爱 and 心 but also 感情 and 情感 and 爱情 and 情爱 and 心情 and 心爱 and 爱心 and so on, and they all mean different things. And don't even get me started on resultative verbs: 学到,学会,学好,学完, and so on...
What is all of this, if not complex? It's not grammatical - except that the process of compound forming, that allows for so many different compounds, is grammatical. We can't make the difference between学会,学好 and 学完 anywhere near as easily in English, and in Chinese you do sort of have to add the end bit. So...do we count this under complexity? And if not, we should probably count it elsewhere? Because it's kind of insane. And learners have to use it, much like the example I gave of English prepositions, and it takes them a bloody long time. But then where?
Ok. I haven't had a chance to talk about everything, but you get the picture: there are things in Chinese that, unlike European languages, do not neatly fit into the 'grammar' versus 'vocabulary' boxes we have built for ourselves, because as a language it just works very differently to the ones we've used as models. (Though some of the problems, in fact, are similar: German is also very adept at compounding.) But as interesting as that difference is, the goal of typology as a sub-discipline of linguistics is to talk about and research the types of linguistic diversity around the world, so we can't stop there by acknowledging our models don't fit. We have to go further. We have to stop, and think: What does this mean for the models that we have built?
This is where we get into theoretically rather boggy ground. We weren't before?? No, like marsh of the dead boggy. Linguists don't know it...they go round, for miles and miles and miles....
Because unfortunately there isn't a clear answer. If we dismiss these things as 'lexical' and therefore irrelevant to the grammar, that is a) ignoring their grammatical function, b) ignoring the fact that the lexicon is also a system that needs to be learnt, and has often very clear rules on word-building that are also 'grammatical', and c) essentially playing a game of theoretical pass-the-parcel. It's your problem, not mine: it's in the lexicon, not the grammar. Blah blah blah. Because whoever's problem it is, we still have to account for this complexity somehow when we want to compare literally any languages that are substantially different at all.
On the other side of things, however, if we argue that 'Chinese is as complex as Abkhaz, because it makes up for a lack of complexity in Y by all this complexity in X' (and therefore all languages = equally complex), this ignores the fact that compounding and irregular verbs belong to two very different systems. The kind of mistake you make when you use the wrong classifier intuitively seems to be on another level of 'wrongness' to the kind where you conjugate a verb in the wrong way. One is 'wrong'. The other is just 'not what we say'. It's the same as the use of prepositions in English: some are obviously wrong (I don't sleep 'at my bed') but some are just weird, and for many there are multiple options ('at the weekend', 'on the weekend'). Is saying 'I am on the town' the same level of wrongness as saying 'I goed to the shops'? Intuitively we might want to say the second is a 'worse' mistake. In which case, what are they exactly? They're both 'grammar', but totally different systems. And where do you draw the line?
Here's the thing about the equicomplexity argument. As established, it stems from a nice ideological background that nevertheless conflates cognition and linguistic complexity. Once you realise that no, the two are completely separate, you're under no theoretical or ideological compulsion to have languages be equally complex at all. Why should they be at all? Some languages just have more stuff in them: some have loads of vowels, and loads of consonants, and some have loads of grammar. Others have less. They all do basically the same job. Why is that a big deal?
Where the argument comes into its biggest problem, though, is that if a language like Chinese is already as complex as a language like Abkhaz...what happens when we meet Classical Chinese?
Classical Chinese. An eldritch behemoth lurking with tendrils of grass-style calligraphy belching perfect prose just behind the horizon.
Let's look at Modern Chinese for a moment. It has some particles: six or so, depending on how you count them. You could include these as being critical to the grammar, and they are.
A common dictionary of Classical Chinese particles lists 694.
To be fair, a lot of these survive as verbs, nouns and so on. Classical Chinese was very verb-schmerb when it came to functional categories, and most nouns can be verbs, and vice versa. It's all just about the vibe. But still. Six hundred and ninety four.
Some of these are optional - they're the nice 'omggg' equivalent of the modern tone particles at the end of a sentence. Some of them are smushed versions of two different particles, like 啦. Some of these, however, really do seem to have very grammatical features. Of these 694, 17 are listed as meaning ‘subsequent to and later than X’, and 8 indicate imposition of a stress upon the word they precede or follow. Some are syntactic: there are, for instance, 8 different particles solely for the purpose of fronting information: 'the man saw he'. That is very much a grammatical role, in every sense of the word.
The copula system ('to be') is also huuuuuuugely complex. I could write a whole other post about this, but I'll just say for now that the copula in Classical Chinese could be specific to degrees of logical preciseness that would make the biggest Lojban-loving computer programmer weep into his Star Trek blanket. As in, the system of positive copulas distinguishes between 6 different polar-positive copulas (A is B), 2 insistent positive (A is B), 19 restricted positive (A is only B), and 15 of common inclusion (A is like B). Some other copulas can make such distinctions as ‘A becomes or acts as B’, ‘A would be B’, ‘may A not be B?’ and so on. Copulas may also be used in a sort of causal way (not 'casual'), creating very specific relationships like ‘A does not merely because of B’ or ‘A is not Y such that B is X’.
WHEW. And all we have in modern Chinese is 是。
I think we can see that this is a little more complex. So saying 'Modern Chinese is as complex as Abkhaz, just in a different way' leaves no space for Classical Chinese to be even more complex...so....where does that leave us?
Uhhhhhh. Errrrrr.
(Don't worry, that's basically where the entire linguistics community is at too.)
The thing is, all these weird and wacky things that Classical Chinese is able to do are all optional. This is where the problem is. Our understanding of complexity, if you hark back to my last post so many moons ago, is that it's the description of what a language requires you to do. We equate that with grammar because in most of the languages we're familiar with, you can't just pick and choose whether to conjugate a verb or use a tense. If you are talking in third person, the verb has to change. It just...does. You can't not do it if you feel like it. There's not such thing as 'poetic license' - except in languages like Classical Chinese, well. There sort of is.
The problem both modern Chinese and Classical Chinese shows us to a different extent is that some languages are capable of highly grammatical things, but with a degree of optionality we would not expect. Classical Chinese can accurately stipulate to the Nth degree what, exactly, the grammatical relationship between two agents are in a way that is undoubtedly and even aggressively logical. But...it doesn't have to. As anybody who has tried anything with Classical Chinese knows, reading things without context is an absolute fucking nightmare. As a language it has the ability to also say something like 臣臣 which in context means 'when a minister acts as a minister'...but literally just means...minister minister. Go figure. It doesn't have to do any of these myriad complex things it's capable of at all.
So...what does this mean? What does all of this mean, for the question of whether all languages are equally complex?
Whilst I agree that the situation with Classical Chinese is fully batshit insane, the fact is most isolating languages are more like Modern Chinese: they don't do all of this stuff. And whilst classifiers and compounds are challenging, they're not quite the same as the strict binary correct/incorrect of many systems. I'm also just not convinced that languages need to be equally complex. However.
HOWEVER. In this essay/rant/lecture (?), I've raised more questions than I've answered. That's deliberate. I both think that a) the type of complexity Chinese shows is not 'enough' to work as a 'trade off' compared to languages like Abkhaz, and b) that this 'grammatical verbosity' and optionality of grammatical structures is something we don't know how to deal with at all. These are two beliefs that can co-exist. Classical Chinese especially is a huge challenge to current understandings of complexity, whichever side of the equicomplexity argument you stand on.
Because where do you place optionality in all of this? Choice? If a certain structure can express something grammatical, but you don't have to include it - is that more complex, or less so? Where do we rank optional features in our understanding of grammar? It's a totally new dimension, and adds a richness to our understanding that we simply wouldn't have got if we hadn't looked at isolating languages. This, right here, is the point of typology: to inform theory, and challenge it.
What do we do with this sort of complexity at all?
I don't know. And I don't think many professional linguists do either.
- meichenxi out
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icantthinkofanythingcool3 · 3 years ago
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Hii I saw ur post about short blurbs and was wondering if you could do 5 or 13 🤍🤍
Well this did not end up being short 🤦‍♀️ but here ya go! Hope you enjoy!💜
It had been 2 years since y/n had moved away from Beacon Hills and half of her friends. Kira and y/n had ended up at the same college and in the same dorm. Lydia and Stiles both ended up about a half hour from them in different directions. The group was still close, but things were definitely different for all of them. Kira and Scott had grown apart and Scott and Malia had grown closer. Lydia and y/n had grown closer than before, they were always going back and forth on the weekends visiting with each other. Although y/n and Stiles were really close before, things had simmered down right before they left for school two years ago.
All their friends had sworn that the two were going to be together, even with college coming up. They were going to school close enough where they could totally still pursue a relationship. Somewhere though, Stiles and y/n had ‘grown apart’. At least that’s what their friends thought. In reality, neither of them really knew what had happened. It was like one moment they were falling for each other and the next it was just gone. Y/n and Stiles had both tried on different occasions to talk to each other, but something always got in the way.
Y/n walked into her apartment, that Kira was decorating...for Valentine's Day. “UGHHHHHH. Kira I thought we decided not to make a big deal out of this stupid holiday.”
“No...you decided that. Just because you’re still stuck on Stiles, doesn’t mean everyone else can’t be happy about love.” Kira announced.
“That’s not-no you’re. Ugh, whatever.” y/n replied, not having a come back, because what she had said was true.
y/n was still really hung up on Stiles, she was still so confused about what had happened to them back in Beacon Hills. There had been plenty of times since then that Lydia, Kira, y/n and Stiles had gotten together to hang out, even times when Scott and the others had come down to visit. However, their interactions were always strange and confusing. She hadn’t been able to date anyone else, and was honestly just making herself super unhappy.
“Before you make yourself too depressed, this was slipped under the door for you today.” Kira handed her a note, folded up with a huge heart on one side and y/n on the other.
“What...what is this?”
“I don’t know silly, clearly I haven’t opened it...since it’s for you…”
Y/n’s eyes rolled as the note was opened. It was typed and it read:
"When love is not madness it is not love." –Pedro Calderon de la Barca.
I have felt nothing but madness from the moment I laid eyes on you.
As she read it to Kira, she let out a screech, “y/n!!!!! Omg you totally have a secret admirer! This is so EXCITING!”
However y/n was doubtful, she left Kira to go to her room. Who on Earth could have sent this to her? Was it a joke? Was it real? The next day, nothing appeared under the door and it disappointed y/n, even though they would never admit that, especially to Kira!
The next day however, when y/n got home from work Kira was waiting impatiently by the door with a note in her hands. It looked exactly like the other one. She basically threw it in my face and stood over my shoulder as she repeated ‘open it, open it, open it’ in my ear.
This one read:
“Love is like an hourglass, with the heart filling up as the brain empties.” – Jules Renard. This, I can assure you, is true. I make dumb mistakes every time I’m around you.
“I literally have no idea who could be doing this. I don’t talk to anyone, no one even notices me around here!” y/n exclaimed, confused.
“Well, you must be wrong, because someone is DEFINITELY noticing you!!!!”
“No, this is just wrong. This has got to be a joke or something. I’m telling you. Throw away any other ones, I’m serious.” With that, y/n walked into her room and slammed the door, she was done with this.
The next day was normal, but y/n wasn’t hopeful that she wouldn’t get another letter, and the next day, the 5th of February, Kira was waiting again with another note.
“You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought.” – Conan Doyle. You are the only thing I can think about lately, you’re in my every thought.
y/n didn’t know what to think anymore. Was this person a freaking psycho stalker? How did they know where I lived? We’re they stalking me?
“Kira, I know that you’re sitting here thinking this is some romantic love story...but what if this is some crazy stalker that now knows where we live? Like what if they break in and kill us in the middle of the night?”
“y/n I think you’re being a little dramatic. I feel like this is someone that has to know you in some way. This is some intense shit.”
“We’re gonna die...watch.” y/n finished, over the anxiety this was causing her.
Two days later, y/n didn’t have class. She was going back and forth from the front door, to her room. She was stuck between being excited and worried. Half of her believed that this was some kind of cruel joke, the other half thought maybe someone actually did like her. By 4 o’clock, she thought maybe that it was over, but as she made her way out of there room, there was a note by the door.
"Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back." - Plato. This one may be corny, but it’s true, I feel this with you.
This definitely sounded like someone that knew her. But how could she be so oblivious? How could there be someone this into her and she had no idea. That’s why she still believed that this could be a joke. Like clockwork, two days later she got another note.
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” – Dr. Seuss. I swear since I started these notes, I haven’t been able to sleep at all. I know this is probably starting to creep you out, I promise that you know me and I know you. I’m not a random person.
“I’m sure that this is supposed to make me feel better Kira, but I feel worse. How do I not know this person likes me, if they like me this much?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking from the beginning of this, do you think it could be Stiles?”
“WHAT?” y/n asked incredulously, “Come on, there’s no way. First of all, that would mean he would have to drive a half hour here and back every other day to slip these under the door? There’s no way, that would be crazy.”
“I mean, you guys definitely had something and then suddenly you guys just stopped. You’re still awkward around each other, maybe this is the only way he can get you back?”
“No. Seriously. Stop that’s, that’s. No, that's crazy.” But later that night, what Kira said had gotten the best of y/n. She did something she hadn’t done in a while, she called Stiles.
As soon as he answered, y/n regretted it, “y/n? Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“No, no nothing’s wrong. Sorry, I’m not even sure why I called…...I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for calling, you know.”
“Yeah, sorry- shit I mean okay. I-I gotta go talk to you later.” And she hung up, she felt so stupid why would she call him? Kira and these damn notes have gotten her head all twisted up. She should know better than to think Stiles could have done this, she was getting her hopes up just thinking about it.
Two days later, y/n could hardly think at work. Her mind was all in a swirl and she kept making mistakes and dropping shit, by the end of her shift she was exhausted. As she had expected, when she got home, Kira was sitting on the couch, holding a new note.
“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” – Rumi. I haven’t known you forever, but when I met you it was like I had known you my whole life.
“There’s only three days left until Valentine's Day. What’s going to happen? Is this all leading up to something? Or are the notes just going to stop?”
“I guess that’s the fun part!” But when y/n looked at her pointedly she continued, “I know this is freaking you out and giving you anxiety, but this could be a good thing. Whoever it is, really cares about you. And I’m not getting creepy vibes from any of this, if someone was going to break in and kill us, I think they already would have.”
y/n knew that Kira was right, she shouldn’t be so freaked out about this. It didn’t seem like a creepy kind of thing, the notes were sweet and heartfelt, and they definitely, probably would have already been killed. So all y/n could do was wait.
As y/n made her way through the day before Valentine’s hazily, she could barely focus. She kept texting Kira, asking if she had found anything yet. Seeing as she was still in class, she had not. Y/n wanted nothing more than to leave her classes and go to the apartment, but she knew if the note wasn’t there yet, she would get even more impatient. So when Kira finally texted her that she got home and there was a note, y/n excused herself from her class and rushed home. Kira was waiting, almost as impatiently as y/n, with the note in her hand!
“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” – Lao Tzu. Meet me at Hilton tomorrow, 7PM, there’ll be a note left at the front desk.
“What? Kira, am I really supposed to just go to this random hotel and meet this random person?”
“I mean they said you know them, so they’re not that random!”
“I know a lot of people! It could be the cute barista that gets my coffee everyday! I technically know him, but would I go into a random hotel room with him? NO.”
“Okay, then I drive you there, and you keep me on the phone. If anything funky happens I’ll run up and save your ass. I think you should go. I see the look in your eyes when you read the notes, you’re excited. I haven’t seen you genuinely excited in a long time.”
Kira had saved my life multiple times, I trusted her, and it was a good plan. I was excited, she was right, I was stupid for thinking that I would get it past her. And I wasn’t exactly defenseless, I had learned to fight through many years of fighting off the supernatural. I decided it couldn't hurt, if anything it would end up a good story to tell one day.
The next day was torture waiting for 7pm. Especially since y/n had no class and only finding an outfit to distract her. y/n called Lydia in the morning, while Lydia had been pissed that she’d only just heard about this, she insisted on y/n video chatting her to pick an outfit. Together, they had decided on a blush pink dress, with a small flower design. There was a belt that tied right under the chest, that accentuated the top of y/n’s body and flowed down nicely to a little above the knee. They picked out black kitten heels, which according to Lydia, y/n should have already had. It was 4:30 when she got home, already ready to start her makeup to keep her distracted. Kira helped her do her hair nicely and put on minimal makeup, to highlight her best features. By 6, y/n was ready to get in the car, but the drive was only 15 minutes. Kira tried to distract her with finding things to fix, like an out of place hair, or too much highlight. At 6:30, she couldn’t distract her anymore and they got in the car. She drove slowly, constantly trying to hit red lights. Although, y/n had noticed, she pretended not, too.
Freaking out at 6:50, y/n got out of the car by the entrance. Looking at Kira who gave her a thumbs up, y/n walked in and to the front desk.
“Hi, um, I was told there was a note going to be left for me here?”
“Ahh, you must be y/n, yes?” The desk attendant said to me, smiling brightly.
“Yes, that is me!” I said, nervously.
“Here is the note, don’t be so nervous. I think you’ll like what is waiting for you!”
She looked at the note that looked the same as all the other ones. The note said:
Go to hotel room #33.
y/n double checked that Kira was still on the phone and went up the elevator to the correct floor. She walked up to the door, but was hesitant to knock. It took her a full minute and many deep breaths to finally knock. When the door opened, she gasped at what she saw.
“Stiles?” She asked incredulously.
“Hi, y/n. I was nervous you weren’t going to come.”
y/n looked down at her phone to see that Kira had already hung up, “I-I, the notes were you the whole time?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to do it. I was freaking out about the whole thing. I know things got messed up before and honestly, I don’t even know why. I didn’t want to mess up again, and I just thought this was the best way to get you to see that I was sorry.”
Y/n took a minute to look around the room. There were two queen beds, both covered in rose petals. There was a small, pink and red bag on one of them. There were actually rose petals everywhere. There were small candles lit all over the room, lights turned down. There was a bottle of champagne on ice and room service on a trolley that contained y/f/flowers in a beautiful vase. It was beautiful honestly, and clearly took a lot of thought.
“y/n?” Stiles started, as she had not said anything after his confession.
“I’m sorry, it’s- I mean this is beautiful. It’s amazing honestly. I can’t believe you did all of this.”
“I’ve loved you for a long time y/n. And I don’t know how exactly we got all fucked up, but I was nervous and scared about what would come to us when school started. I’ve wanted to tell you everyday since that whatever was going on was stupid and that we should be together, but I never could get it out and I’m sorry.” Stiles was nervous, not sure y/n felt the same.
“I don’t know what happened either, if I’m being honest..I felt the same. Scared and nervous. I’ve literally made myself miserable everyday, knowing that I should have done something about what happened. I love you. I’m sorry too, that I didn’t do anything to fix whatever happened. I knew from the moment I met you, that we were meant to be more than just friends.”
Stiles couldn’t hold back after he heard y/n’s confession, his feelings had been overwhelming for so long. He walked closer to her, placed his hand on her face gently, and placed his lips on hers. At first, it was sweet and slow, but y/n moved her hands to the back of his head, pulling him closer. When they both ran out of breath, they pulled away smiling at each other.
“Can I ask you a question?” y/n spoke first.
“Of course, anything.” Stiles answered.
“Why are there two beds?” y/n wiggled her eyebrows.
Stiles face turned red and his hand went to rub his chin, “I well, I mean I didn’t want to-uh...I didn’t want to assume anything, I just, I didn’t want to mess anything else.”
“Well I don’t think we’ll be needing it.” y/n said and pulled Stiles back to her, placing her lips on his again.
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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years ago
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Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)
Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.
If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"
If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.
After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.
He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.
Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿
(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)
When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."
You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.
Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.
After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.
After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.
You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.
After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."
The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.
...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.
The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.
Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.
Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 
Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.
He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.
I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.
Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.
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hetacon · 4 years ago
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Prom Queen: Chapter 1
Previous || Next
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Word Count: 1,500
Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Eventual Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point
Warning: The teeniest bit of swearing, slight food mention, Remus is mentioned briefly
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Summary: “Oh shut up,” he grumbled to it as he turned off the alarm before checking the date and sighing lowly.
It was exactly the day he had been thinking. The first day of school.
(Don’t miss the notes I have at the end of this post if you’d like to hear some additional details! There is a prologue to this story by the way, be sure to check it out!)
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The alarm blared loudly from across Virgil’s room. He tried hard to the best of his abilities to ignore it but he did make it loud for a reason.
One of those reasons being that he knew himself well enough to know that he would ignore it if he could and shut it off and go back to bed if he couldn’t. Going across the room to get it had always proved to have a higher chance of success in his experience so he had gone for that option last night.
The second reason though was because of today. Virgil shot up upon remembering and went over to his phone charging across his room, squinting at the screen.
“Oh shut up,” he grumbled to it as he turned off the alarm before checking the date and sighing lowly.
It was exactly the day he had been thinking. The first day of school.
The first day of high school in fact, the event of the decade that he and Roman had been waiting for in anticipation. Well, that was being generous but either way, they were both anticipating it for different reasons as they always seemed to do.
Virgil was not thrilled at the prospect of a new school. He would be required to learn a new campus, new classrooms, new classmates, and new teachers. Within the first week, he knew he’d be accustomed to at least the rooms for his classes but the other ones could take some getting used to. He knew that either way, he wasn’t going to get along with a majority of his classmates and he’d be too nervous to get to know any teachers or do much more than answer the occasional question or take role until they’d learned their students’ names. The campus was another issue too. Where would he be waiting in the morning? Where would he eat lunch? Did he and Roman even have the same brunch schedule? How was he getting home again? What time did his day end?
After shooting a text to Roman about one of those questions, namely in terms of the schedule, he got ready. After pulling his hoodie on over his head, he brushed a hand through his bangs to push them back before frowning at his reflection, letting them fall over his face again. He didn’t look better per say but he could see less which was always a plus in situations he was dreading. His mom had come in at some point to make sure he had actually gotten up and he was out of the house with his backpack and phone as soon as Roman bounded up his driveway.
“Virgil, it’s finally happening!” his best friend squealed, linking their arms as Virgil was tugged along down the route to their new school. “Finally, we’re high schoolers now, can you believe it?”
Virgil snorted, feeling a weight lift off his chest. One of them at least. “Can I believe it? Yeah. Do I want to? Hell no,” he muttered out with an edge of grumpiness to his voice only to have Roman laugh.
“I promise that I’ll be with you as much as I can the whole day! We’re going to have brunch and lunch together too and then I’ll take you over to my place after school!” Roman explained. He honestly made it sound so simple but really, he usually did. It even usually was, at least when Roman told him so. He just always knew how to make awful situations... easier.
“Eh, I guess I’ll take it. Though I’ve gotten a horrible end of the deal for compensation,” Virgil jeered a little, laughing to himself as Roman gasped and shoved him with an obvious smile.
“Shut up, you love me and you know it!”
Virgil’s smile came easily as they kept walking. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say,” he snorted.
Roman talked about theater, asking what productions Virgil thought they should put on, how he hoped to get some good roles this year, and then listed off some of his personal favorite musicals that he hoped he’d get to do at some point. Virgil filled in the gaps and spaces of the conversations and Roman did the rest. It was comfortable, it didn’t seem like this year would feel so bad now with things going just as they always had.
The day started off pretty alright honestly, much better than Virgil would’ve expected. Luckily he’d done a walkthrough of his schedule during registration so he knew vaguely where to go and he made it to his second period class early.
A lot of them were standard class introductions, icebreakers, and syllabuses. It seemed like exactly what he was used to in junior high, just at a different school. Some of his classes seemed pretty boring but he knew he didn’t have much of an option on the basic ones he had to take. He texted Roman between classes to see how he was fairing. He wasn’t very surprised that it was going off without a hitch.
It was a relief by the time that Virgil got to his English class right before lunch, the one class he and Roman shared together. Roman rushed in right as the bell rang and collapsed into the seat next to him, breathing out with a smile.
“Cutting it close, huh?” Virgil whispered.
“Sorry, I was a bit preoccupied,” Roman merely offered as explanation before the teacher got up and started talking, cutting their conversation short.
“Man, I am so excited for theater today! I can already tell it’s going to be so amazing!” Roman chattered excitedly as they walked out of English, making their way over to one of the more secluded areas of the campus Virgil had been able to find, setting up to eat lunch.
“Yeah, totally didn’t see that coming,” Virgil said with a slight shake of his head, smirking a bit. “It’s not like you’ve been talking about it all day. Oh wait! You have.”
“Alright alright so I will admit that I might be a little more excited than one would expect!” Roman relented, shrugging. “But! It’s just so amazing, I got into 7th period theater, Virge! I’m going to be in the actual productions!! That’s a big deal for a freshman, usually people don’t make it until maybe sophomore year, you know?”
“Well the director would’ve been an idiot if he didn’t want to put you in them, yeah? I think so anyways,” Virgil said as he took out his sketchbook.
“I suppose but still, I’m just...” Roman laughed to himself, bouncing in place. “I’m so excited, I can’t wait to meet all the new people there,” he giggled.
Virgil nodded, starting a sketch of Roman which Roman immediately posed for, knowing the drill.
“Soooo, have you met anyone interesting today?” Roman asked as Virgil was working out the shape of Roman’s nose, their eyes making contact for a second before Virgil was back to sketching.
“Nah, not really. Though somebody just kinda... Gave me a cookie during art. He said I looked like I needed it. He’s my table partner now so there’s that, you know?” Virgil said with a shrug. “He’s pretty cool I guess. Liked one of my drawings of you.”
“And you didn’t strike up a conversation? C’mon Virgil, you could be set on baked goods and a person with great taste for the rest of your life!” Roman exclaimed, shifting out of position as he threw his arms out to which Virgil gave a half-hearted glare.
“You’re dumber than I gave you credit for if you believe I can talk to people.”
“Well I may be dumb but I take it with pride like a Prince should!”
“Your brother is the smarter of the two of you,” Virgil mused.
Roman pouted. “He is not!”
“Pretty sure he is,” Virgil hummed out.
As the two conversed a little more, Virgil didn’t feel up to eating anything.
Lunch ended and the day finished up with Virgil waiting outside the auditorium for Roman to be done with theater. The two walked home with Roman going on and on about the rest of his day, telling him about all the people he had met and all the things that he had gotten up to. Apparently there was already some idea of what the fall play would be so Roman talked about it at length.
“But seriously Virgil, it was so nice of them! Two of the juniors gave me a card to welcome me, it had my name on it and everything, I can’t wait!”
Virgil merely nodded as Roman continued.
Virgil didn’t have much to say at that point, just letting Roman keep going. Virgil just listened on, focusing silently on his best friend as they made their way home.
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A/N: Hey hey hey guys, here is the first official chapter of Prom Queen! I don’t have an especially strict schedule for this story but I do try to post every other day and it works out fairly well! I’ll try not to make it be more than a couple weeks between chapters but life might get funky so if anything happens, I’ll try my best to handle it and get more chapters out!
That being said, I hope you are enjoying the story and are excited for future chapters! Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglists, either this one or my writing/art taglists in general and I’ll catch you guys next time!
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Taglist: @spookijam, @its-the-cat-queen, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars
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lovelyirony · 5 years ago
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4 teacher/single parent au for winteriron?
Listen Bucky really didn’t want to go to Becca’s teacher-parent conference. It just…he didn’t like talking to teachers once they found out he was a single parent. He either got pity looks or looks of “you need to do better.” And Bucky? He’s doing damn good for what it is. He has a ride schedule with Steve and Peggy and Becca has girls’ days with Aunt Nat and Sharon, and sometimes they go to the park when he’s off work on the weekends. 
They also happen to never like his full sleeves of tattoos. He would much rather the teacher never see him and just say “Wow Mr. Barnes certainly is doing a good job.” 
But no. He’s meeting with the teacher, and Becca is very excited. Bucky tries to not let her see how nervous and anxious he is. 
Tony is freaking out. Sometimes parents don’t like him for multiple reasons. Men usually don’t teach the first grade, and they definitely don’t have colorful shirts with funky vests or ties and shoes that would make a businessman cry. 
They also happen to not have tattoos if they do teach, or keep them out of sight. 
Tony does nothing of the sort. 
He knows that the parents talk about him when they think he can’t hear, and he also knows that his kids are the best-behaved and learn a bit more in his class, so he doesn’t care. 
It’s just…Becca is a favorite. He knows that teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but he does. She is a funny girl, who is smart beyond her years and will most likely be a delightful hellion. 
She also keeps trying to tell him that her father is single and ready to “mingle.” 
“It’s what my Uncle Sam says,” Becca says decidedly. “He also said my dad is ‘incredibly lonely’. What does that mean, exactly?” 
“I’m going to leave that to your father, dear,” Tony says quickly. “Go to your Aunt Peggy!” He waves to her, and sighs as he tries to clean up the classroom as best he can. 
Bucky meets Tony. 
It goes well, he thinks. Because he can see a tattoo creeping up from the shirt, and he likes the tie that he’s wearing. The paint splatters are cool, and it fits the personality entirely. 
His pants also fit well. This should be a secondary detail. 
But it is not. 
“Hello Mr. Stark,” Bucky says. 
“Please, call me Tony,” the teacher–now Tony–responds. “Everyone does.” 
“Nice to meet you then, Tony, I’m Bucky Barnes. Becca’s dad.” Tony smiles. 
“Well really, this meeting is more of a formality, if you will. Becca is a lovely girl, and you’re very lucky to have her as a daughter. She’s inquisitive, bright, and always has a question or two.” 
“I’m glad to hear that,” Bucky says, smiling. “How has class been going?” 
They get off-topic. Bucky mentions that he likes Tony’s tattoo, which leads to Bucky taking off his jacket and showing off his sleeve of tattoos, which Tony finds impressive. 
There is also the teensy little fact that Bucky happens to buy shirts that fit his impressive physique and the linework on the arms are incredible. 
It ends up being 7:30, when the meeting was at six. Bucky ducks his head down. 
“This might be a bit, uh, unprofessional, but could I…could I get your number? You’re a real nice guy, Tony, and I’d love to take you to dinner some time.” 
Tony freezes for just a moment. 
“Or not, I mean I don’t have to and if you want I won’t bother you again–” 
“No, I just wasn’t expecting it,” Tony says, cutting him off. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve dated, and especially someone as attractive as you, well–” 
Bucky grins. 
“You think I’m cute?” 
“Don’t tell the other parents, they might accuse me of favoritism, and that is a fight I would lose,” Tony says with a wink. 
He gets out a post-it note, writing down his name and number, and a little winky face. 
“I was thinking about seeing that movie that came out last week, if you’d like,” Tony says. “I heard it’s supposed to be fun.” 
“I’ll arrange for a babysitter,” Bucky says, grinning. 
Sharon and Nat did have plans for Friday, but then cancel as soon as they find out that Bucky finally got a date. 
And with an educated man, no less. At least, that’s what Sharon jokes around with. 
“Look at you, getting dressed all proper and everything,” Natasha says, teasing. “Who’s it for?” 
“You don’t get to know yet,” Bucky says gruffly. “I’m just hoping I get a second date.” 
“Of course you’ll get a second date,” Becca says primly from the kitchen table. “Mr. Tony says that he likes tall and buff. Aunt Nat told me you are both of those things.” 
Bucky sends a harmless glare to Nat. 
“Shoo, before you’re late,” Sharon says, ushering him out of the apartment. “We’re gonna make amazing mac n’ cheese, but it’s aunts-only. You’re not allowed.” 
He gets the door slammed in his face and hears the delgihtful yelp of his daughter most likely being tickled. 
Straightening his shirt, Bucky walks down. He’s nervous about a lot of things. How the date will go, what they’ll talk about, if their connection was just a one-time thing and this will actually go horribly. 
When he sees Tony at the restaurant agreed upon, all of those go away. Tony greets him as if they’ve known each other for years, and Bucky finds that pulling him into a hug is the most natural thing in the world. 
“Ready for this?” Tony asks, eyes sparkling. 
“You have no idea,” Bucky answers. 
(Okay so screw him he already has the wedding planned after the first date. He actually wrote that conversation down for the vows.) 
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persiistents · 4 years ago
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⧼   madchen amick, cis female, she & her  /  soon you’ll get better - taylor swift +  A LOVING MOTHER. a mother who loves her children more than anything in the world. a mother who will do anything for her children, no questions asked. and yet, a mother who is not afraid to call her children out for their wrongs.  AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN. who started as an independent girl, always determined to do everything on her own, stubbornly refusing to admit she needed help. a girl who never wanted to do as she was told. and yet, grew into the young woman her parents had always wanted. who married and had children, and settled down. and never quite content with the housewife roll, continued to do exactly as she pleased. A CAREFULLY MAINTAINED APPEARANCE. not a single strand of blonde hair out of place. a pristine french manicure, not a single chip goes unfixed. a carefully curated wardrobe, each item hand-selected. a strand of pearls and an oversized fur coat. a closet of designer gowns and more shoes than one can count.   ⧽   ━━   hey, isn’t that HÉLÈNE GRAVES LEVESQUE? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the FIFTY year old pureblood WITCH is a BEAUXBATONS alumnus who has gone on to be a HOUSEWIFE DANCE INSTRUCTOR. i’ve heard they can be quite FERVENT & SOPHISTICATED, but i don’t know… they came off very ABRASIVE & DECEITFUL in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?
meet hélène levesque:
mentions of abuse tw, mentions of abuse cw, mentions of death tw, mentions of death cw
about:
the oldest daughter of étienne and béatrice levesque, hélène has been strong willed and independent since the day she was born, a whole two weeks early. 
at her mother’s suggestion, hélène was enrolled in dance lessons at the age of three. her parents thought and hoped, it would help to settle her unruly spirit. and they were correct. 
from an early age hélène was instilled with the idea that one day she would marry a pureblood man from a respectful family and begin a family of their own. an idea which she romanticized as a young girl, resented as a teenager and grew to accept as an adult.
she was twenty years old when she first met the man who was to be her husband, an american named archibald graves. he was perfect in every single way and yet she found herself dreading their impending nuptials. but she did as she was told, what was expected of her and married this stranger.
and then on their wedding night, archibald revealed his plans for their future together. he had business opportunities in england and they would be relocating as soon as they returned from their honeymoon and that was that.
caught off guard by the news, hélène tried her best to hide her disappointment but it was clear she was upset. she spent the remainder of the honeymoon dreading their impending move, but she did it without protest, trusting her husband knew what was best.
adjusting to life in a foreign country wasn’t as hard as she thought, she had the close knit-nature of pureblood society to help her with that. and her mother, who helped with the move and stayed for the first month.
the couple spent the next couple of years integrating into the pureblooded society of england. whether it was their attendance at galas, or sending a gift for someone’s child’s birthday.
and then hélène learned she was pregnant with the couple’s first child and once again her life changed. suddenly, she was thinking and acting for two people instead of one. and she was terrified.
fortunately her pregnancy went smoothly, and she gave birth to a healthy baby boy who they named damien. she fell in love with him the second she laid eyes on him, her beautiful baby boy.
they would have a total of four children, whom hélène dotted on. though, her husband seemed to have other ideas about how their children should be raised, they reached a compromise of sorts. hélène got to dote on them as much as she wanted but they would be raised with their father’s beliefs.
and at first, there wasn’t any problem, but as the years passed and their children grew, hélène realized that maybe this wasn’t the way to be raising children. yet, it wasn’t until their oldest son ran away that she finally had enough.
she had recognized her husbands pattern of abuse and how it had drove damien away, and determined not to lose another child she left. it was less than amicable, but after six years they don’t have much to do with one another. the exception being rowan’s funeral which was something. -- see below for more on this
hélène had thought about returning to france after their divorce. but she quickly dismissed the idea as foolish, her children were in england and that’s where she would be. this led to her purchasing her own house (manor, lbr) and turning it into her dream home. 
it was her boredom that led her to reconnect with dance, and although she had fallen out of practice and was far past her prime she was happy. and eventually, she decided to offer lessons to the wix community. her primary focus being ballet, but she also taught ballroom dancing.
rowan’s death absolutely rattled hélène, i’m not sure how else to describe it. that was her baby, after all. she’s slowly getting back to her normal self, damien’s return has helped a lot but it’s been difficult.
fun facts:
if you hurt her children, she will hurt you. 
post divorce hélène has been very into trying new things/just doing things she never got to do growing up or during her marriage. this includes things such as flying, 
hélène would deny this if you brought it up, but she has definitely taken to mothering any younger wix that she’s encountered. this probably has something to do with what she considers her failures in raising her own children, but again she doesn’t talk about that !
has always been a huge patron of the arts, this is worth mentioning bc she just lvoes them so much !! 
she loves floral arrangements. she has a new one in her entry way at least once a week.
she loves scented candles like a lot 
i’m going to edit this later !! i just wanna get the basics out 
pinterest board: coming soon
playlist: coming soon
wanted connections: 
the remaining graves children (please see the main for the formal connection)
otherwise, i haven’t gotten around to actually writing up these wanted connections & submitting them to the main but these are some rough ideas!
her first friend in england! definitely pureblood, they would’ve met thirty years ago when hélène first moved to england !! i have this idea of them being the first person to truly make her feel welcome and they’ve stuck by each other through it all 
just other friends in general !! maybe a rival of sorts ?? 
a post divorce fling could be funky 
students !! hélène was a ballerina growing up and after her divorce she started to teach lessons !! her main focus is ballet but she also teaches ballroom dance classes !! 
friends from france !!
members of the levesque family !! i’ll definitely be working on a more detailed wanted connection but she had at least two sisters and a brother all of whom would be welcome as well as any nieces, nephews or niblings !! 
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luminousinthedark · 5 years ago
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I know I’m a little late but, Happy Birthday to the APS server!! :D This was actually for another event on there but I couldn’t resist posting this as a gift as well. To add another contribution along with the art, I’ve written a oneshot of a very sleep deprived Marinette and Adrien if you want to check it out! xD
Here is a sneak peak. The rest is below the cut or on Ao3 :3c
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444775 
“I brushed my hair with my toothbrush this morning.”
Marinette sat smugly in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, thinking she won this round. This felt exactly like the times she joked with Chat Noir on the rooftops. She was sure he would get a kick out of this conversation if he were here.
“Oh yeah? Adrien challenged, leaning on her desk. “Well I washed my body with shampoo instead of using body soap.”
She gaped in astonishment. He grinned in satisfaction, ready to take the victory.
“Tch,” she waved her hand around, clearly not beaten,” child’s play. I almost walked to school still wearing what I wore to bed.”
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about!” he chided.
She leaned closer, their noses almost touching. “In my birthday suit.”
Adrien’s eyes widened comically while she settled back, taking home the prize of his dignity while he broke composure and blushed heavily.
“I’m sorry,” Nino broke the competitive atmosphere, nearly at a loss for words. “Can someone run by me again, what exactly is going on here?” Bringing a hand up to his mouth in deep contemplation, he studied his two friends. The two promptly ignored him, as they went right back into bantering back and forth, trying to one up the other.
“Nino please,” Alya shushed, her big rimmed glasses barely hiding behind the phone she held in front of her, recording the whole encounter. “Let our embarrassing, sleepless friends do their thing.”
Shaking his head, Nino was about to return to listening to his music when their teacher walked in and began class.
But it didn’t end there.
“I once pounced on someone’s back, thinking they were my friend, when they turned around and was most definitely not someone I knew,” Marinette recounted as she shoved her mouth full of leftover noodles.
Trying not to snort milk through his nose, Adrien spat it out onto the grass underneath them. Wiping his chin, his chuckles ran deep, his lack of sleep really beginning to show.
Nodding her head slowly, Marinette stared off into the distance, reliving the memory. “The look of horror on their face is one I’ll remember, always.”
Pointing his fork at her food, he shot a sly smirk her way, “Sounds to me like they were an impasta.”
She shoved him over into the grass, his cackling gaining volume while he just laid there. His joyous mirth bled over into her annoyed frown, causing her lips to quirk and her own giggles to spill out. “Oh my god, you’re such a funky noodle. Finish your salad so we can head back to class.”
It took a lot of effort and energy on his part, but he was soon sitting upright and finishing off the rest of his healthy lunch.
Taking a moment to pause, Marinette could feel the welcoming hands of sleep gripping the edges of her consciousness, barely there and ready for her to drop her focus at a second’s notice. Pinching herself and slapping her cheeks, she warded away the feeling for now.
“When I first got my phone,” Adrien spoke up, only to be interrupted by a wide yawn, “I hadn’t quite memorized my phone number and gave it to Chloe when she impatiently asked for it.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. “When she called, some random old guy answered the phone and she shrieked and hung up. Apparently, I switched two of the numbers around.”
Marinette snorted, relishing in her old enemy’s mortification.
Rubbing at his eyes, Adrien yawned once again, settling himself deep into the plush, green grass, facing towards the sun. He reminded her of a cat in that moment; thoughts of Chat Noir completely taking over her lack of logic.
“God, you’re such a cat,” she teased fondly, pushing her empty dish aside and curling up next to him.
Nearly outshining the sun with his bright smile, he turned to look at her through narrow eyelids, a peak of dark green showing through. His blond hair was tousled in every direction. “I have to stay true to my nature, my Lady.”  
“Was that supposed to be another joke?” she yawned, then rubbed at her eyes as well. Nothing and everything was making sense to her now, so she just scooted closer to his side.
“Purrrhaps,” he slurred, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. She complied easily, feeling sleep ready to claim her.
“You and your...stupid cat puns..silly kitty,” Marinette grumbled, drifting off.
Bellies full, the warm sun shining down on them, with their trusted partner by their side, it caused the two teens to peacefully fall asleep. After not getting enough rest the past week from late night akuma’s and daily life routines, it was enough to make them crash.
“There they are!” Marinette distantly heard through the thick fog of her mind.
There was a rhythmic thumping sound under her ear, coming from her breathing pillow that she snuggled closer to.
Wait.
Her eyes shot open as her body tensed up.
This wasn’t her bed.
Carefully lifting her head, she looked down in panic at just who she was sleeping on top of. But that wasn’t the most alarming thing.
A perfect circle of her drool had formed in the middle of Adrien’s shirt.
Groaning, Marinette dropped her head back onto his chest and wished for the ground to swallow her up.
“Oh my god!” Alya laughed breathlessly, finally reaching them. She then began fumbling for her phone to take a quick photo. “You two are so dang cute.”
Glaring up at her through heavy eyelids, Marinette felt a blazing hot blush encompass her whole face.
“Dudes,” Nino approached and stopped next to Alya. “You guys never came back from lunch and everyone wondered where you were.” He raised an eyebrow, as if he were a parent scolding his children, “so this was more important than class?”
Marinette whined and tried burying her face deeper into Adrien’s shirt, hoping to disappear. This caused him to stir and grip his arms tighter around her.
“Just five more minutes Buginette,” he murmured into her hair sleepily.
It felt as though a lightning bolt had shocked through her system, remembering the conversation they had earlier as they fell asleep.
She was wide awake now.
Marinette squeaked.
"Alright Nino," Alya said with determination, grabbing his shirt and leading him away. "Let's leave these two ‘good friends’ alone,” she emphasized. Nino snickered and shook his head.
It took a moment but then Adrien whispered a curious “wait” as he stilled underneath her.
Gulping, Marinette waited for the inevitable “you’re Ladybug?”
Instead, she got...
“I think she meant very good friends,” he huffed out in a matter-of-fact tone.
She let out a disbelieving snort, groggily sitting up and smacking his chest.
He chuckled, rubbing the area and sitting up as well. “What, did you think I was going to say something else, my Lady?”
Mouth dropping open, Marinette hid her face in her hands and groaned in defeat.
Of course he remembered.    
“Why does my shirt feel all wet?” he asked a second later, assessing the damage. Marinette just wanted to die. “I know people drool over others in a metaphorical way but this is next level.”
Marinette couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of her. “You and your dumb puns,” she chuckled, knocking his shoulder and wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face. “This is just another embarrassing story to add to my ever growing list,” she sighed.
“It’s not that embarrassing,” he reassured with a smile.
“Yeah sure, getting drool all over the love of your life before you confess isn’t humiliating at all,” Marinette rambled.
Adrien’s head shot up to stare at her.
“...your what?”
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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago
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I am flesh and I am bone
Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Read (female) Word count: 7.5k + Warnings: None for this chapter!
Chapter One: Do you walk in the valley of kings
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- Hi everyone! I would like to welcome you all to my first Ahky fic! For those who know me, I normally write for Queen and BohRhap cast, now with added 6 Underground! However This idea came to me out of no where a few weeks ago. I’ve been sitting on it for a while now, and after posting to see if anyone would be interested in reading what I had, I decided that I may as well share it! There will either be 2 or 3 chapters, depending on how things go! Huge shout out to @polarcrystall​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @ryeosomnia​ @thenewnightguard​ @stfuchaase​ for letting me know that you wanted to read this! I hope it lives up to expectations! -
Exactly two weeks ago, you had brought home a permission slip for a class field trip your science and history teacher had organised, you had waved the form around in front of your mothers face, dancing around the kitchen as you begged her to sign it. 
“Please Mom, you have to let me go! It’s the Museum of Natural History! Uncle Larry is always talking about how amazing the museum is!” You plead, eyes shining up at your grinning mother. Although you were still so young, everyone knew exactly where your interests lay, you had a gift for knowing everything there was to know about historical events. At only six, you could recite the exact date and time the Titanic both set sail, and ultimately sunk, and at seven you could name every British monarch in consecutive order. Those were considered your hobby histories though, as your parents had once said. Your one true historical love was that of Ancient Egypt. Perhaps it was due to the stunningly rich colours that were used to decorate the Pharaoh’s sarcophagus’, or maybe it was the sheer amounts of sparkling gold, you were young after all, and just like a bird, you were often attracted to shiny objects. No matter the reason, for close to two years of your life, you had learnt everything your little mind could fill itself with in relation to Ancient Egypt. Every book your tiny hands found in the library on the subject, you would check out for the week, if one of the librarians were to look through your borrowing history, they would find nothing but history books that were typically checked out by college students, and not by under ten year old’s.
As your Mom read through the form, she smiled wearily, before turning to face the kitchen counter, smoothing the paper over the flat surface. “Okay Y/N, of course you can go. But remember sweetheart, there are other exhibits to look at, and not just Ahkmenrah’s tomb.”
You nod your head obediently, though her words go in one ear, then out the other. Your uncle Larry had been the nightguard at the Museum of Natural History for close to three years now, and whenever you saw him, he would tell you stories of how amazing it was to work with all of those historical figures. You always loved it when he told you stories of the young Pharaoh, of course to the rest of your family, these were just that, stories, though to you they all sounded real, and to Larry, they were.
<<ooo>>
The night before your field trip you were beyond excited, finding yourself barely able to sleep, far too thrilled with the knowledge of where you would be the very next morning. Every ten minutes you would leap out of bed, turn on your bedside lamp, and start reading through one of your history books again, this one all about life of Ancient Egyptian slaves. Each time you would switch your light on, one of your parents would walk past your room, spot the small stream of light beneath the closed door, then storm in, taking the book from you before turning the light out once more. This happened all of thirteen times, until your father had warned that if you didn’t go to sleep, he wouldn’t let you go to the Museum. Soon enough, you found yourself slowly drifting off, and your parents found themselves no longer needing to stop you from reading.
When you woke the next morning, you got yourself dressed in record speed, throwing on your freshly washed uniform. The navy blue polo shirt was free from stains once again, though your Mom knew that it wouldn’t stay that way for long, and your pleated gray skirt had been crisply ironed. All that was left were your black school shoes, though you knew better than to put those on in the house, so instead you opted for skidding around the wooden floors in your white socks. As you sat on the sofa, eating a bowl of cereal and watching morning cartoons, your Dad bumbled out into the kitchen, yawning and stretching loudly. “Good morning sweetie.” He smiled, looking at you from over the back of the sofa. “You’re up very early!”
You turn around to look at him as he set about making breakfast for himself and your Mom. “I thought if I got ready early then you could take me to school earlier!”
“I can’t do that Y/N, no one will be at school this early. You’ll have to wait.” He smiled, watching as you slumped down on the sofa, sighing dramatically. With a chuckle, he finished making breakfast, leaving you to watch cartoons and grumble.
<<ooo>>
“Alright class, this is Mister Wright, he will be showing us around the museum today. Can we all say Good morning Mister Wright?”  Your teacher, Miss Clarke called, gesturing to the tall, thin man who stood before your class of thirty. He wore wire framed classes, and a tweed jacket, from the eyes down he looked like your stereotypical scholar, however on top his head sat a flaming red mohawk, which added nearly an entire foot to his overall height.
“Good morning Mister Wright.” Chorused your class, smiling at the tall, funky looking man. He looked rather unsure of himself, it was likely that he wasn’t used to leading a tour group full of children. Gazing around the foyer where you stood you grinned to yourself, the spinning globe atop the main desk shone brightly in the large room, while the massive T-Rex skeleton served as a sneak peek for what you were all going to see further in the museum.
“Psst, Y/N, come on!” You friend Hailey giggled beside you, snapping you out of your trance. You just wanted to take as much in as possible, who knew when you would next be able to visit the museum? Quickly, the two of you ran to catch up with your class, who had moved on to taking a closer look at the T-Rex, Mister Wright going into detail about the life style, size, and speed of the dinosaur.
You listen intently the whole tour, finding your way to the front of your class, so to be as close to the exhibits as possible. Most of your class found the tour interesting, whilst some found it to be boring, how they found it boring you had no idea, you simply couldn’t fathom it! Here you were, standing amongst history! Nothing about this experience was boring in your opinion! “And here we conclude today’s tour, with Theodore, or Teddy Roosevelt, who served as our twenty-sixth president, and of course his horse Little Texas.”
Outrage flooded your senses, you knew who Teddy Roosevelt was, but that wasn’t what had you so worked up. “What do you mean this is the end?” You burst out, your hands balling into fists at your sides.
Mister Wright looks down at you in surprise, clearly not having expected any protests in today’s tour. “Miss Y/L/N! Where are your manners?” Miss Clarke admonishes, walking over to you with a stern look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude!” You sniff, your lower lip trembling as you try to fight off tears. “It’s just, do we not get to look at the Ancient Egyptian exhibits?” You mumble, staring down at your feet, not daring to look your teacher or the tour guide in the eye. For two weeks, all you had wanted to do was look through the Egyptian exhibitions, and here you were, being told that the tour was over without ever stepping foot near them?!
Your teacher and the tour guide pass a look between each other, no words are spoken, though an unspoken conversation takes place none the less. “It’s alright Y/N, I understand.” Miss Clarke smiles, causing you to look up at her. “We have plenty of time to look around ourselves now. Everyone, please find a buddy, and always stay together. We will meet back here in two hours, at two o’clock!”
Not needing to be told twice, your class quickly begins to pair off, giggling schoolgirls racing off in different directions of the Museum. A group of five of you remains stood in front of the model President. Yourself, Hailey, Claire, Amber and Belinda, all looking between each other with broad grins. The five of you all got along like peas in a pod, often spending weekends at each other’s homes, playing dress ups out in the garden. So of course, when faced with the option of either trying to break off into small groups, or sticking all together, you chose the latter.
The five of you ran off back the way you came, taking turns through different corridors and into rooms which had been missed entirely on the tour. “Hey Y/N, does your uncle move these little guys around when he’s at work?” Amber grins, beckoning you over to where she was stood, looking into the miniature Roman Empire diorama.
“I don’t think he would do that… Why?” You shrug, peering over the edge of the diorama, your eyes falling on what Amber was clearly talking about. In the mini Colosseum, up on one of the balconies, there stood a tiny Roman soldier, hands reaching out and planted firmly against the back of a blonde cowboy, who was clearly from the Wild West diorama next door. The cowboy was stood precariously on the ledge of the window, and it was obvious to anyone who saw, that the Roman was attempting to push the intruder off the building. “Uncle Larry wouldn’t have done! He loves history as much as I do!” You blanch, eyeing the odd scene one final time.
Shaking your head, you move on further through the museum, leaving your friends behind as you grow nearer a section of the museum which seemed uncharacteristically quiet. Looking down the long corridor, it was dimly lit, and oddly sparse, and unlike every other area you had visited so far, this hall seemed to not see many visitors, or at least not at the moment. As you walked further into the hall, you failed to notice the yellow caution tape which had fallen down from across the archway, making your way down the corridor, the smell of wet paint assaulted your nose as you grew closer to the end of the corridor, a large gate pulled across the floor to ceiling entrance, with only a small crack of an opening. Unaware to you, your friends hadn’t realised where you had gone, figuring as it was nearing the end of your free roam time, they assumed you must’ve left to return to your teacher. The four of them packing up their things, and leaving the miniatures exhibit, and in the process leaving you behind too.
As you grew nearer the massive room, a gasp escaped your lips realising what you had discovered, hidden away at the back of the museum. Just behind the gate stood two, twenty-foot Anubis statues one on the left and the other the right side of the room. You had read about Anubis, the jackal deity of the afterlife, a shrine to Anubis was placed in the tombs of Pharaoh’s to keep guard over them as they passed into the next world. In all your reading though, coming face to face with these enormous statues, nothing could have prepared you for the sheer height of them.
  Crouching down, you crawl through the small gap in the gate, squeezing your tiny body through, until you were inside the tomb. Back at the other end of the corridor, a security guard takes note of the fallen caution tape, picking it up and reattaching it to the archway. The Tomb of Ahkmenrah was in the process of being renovated, and it wouldn’t do anyone any good to go down there at the moment. Of course you knew nothing about this, though even if you did, it likely wouldn’t have stopped you from entering either way.
<<ooo>>
Miss Clarke looked over the huddle of children before her, taking a head count to ensure all students were present and accounted for. As she moved her eyes from one end of the group to the other, a student who had been at the very front moved her way to the end. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, however this little girl stood with her back to Miss Clarke, and from the back she was sporting the exact same back pack as yours, it of course didn’t help that the two of you also had the same hair colour. To Miss Clarke, she had thirty students just as she had started with, if she had recounted her students however, she would quickly notice she was missing one. Though with the knowledge that the coach was waiting for them out the front of the museum, she thought better than to count a second time, and ushered the students outside.
<<ooo>>
Gazing around the tomb, you easily lost track of time, had you been there for five minutes or five hours? You really had no idea, but seeing as no one had come to find you yet, you assumed there was still time left to look around. After taking in every detail of the Anubis statues, you moved further inside to look over the ornate lid of the sarcophagus which sat front and centre of the tomb. Delicate navy blue lines mixed in with deep burgundy’s, before making way for vibrant turquois, all intermingled with the rich gold that covered the entire coffin. Hieroglyphs were carved down the body, from what you had read, they were designed to allow the Pharaoh safe passage into the afterlife, prayers were also commonly inscribed too.
You found yourself hypnotised by the craftsmanship of the sarcophagus, and paid no attention to the sound of the gate being dragged back across the tomb, closing it off from the entrance entirely. Slowly, you moved away to look around more, you wanted to see as much as possible, and commit it all to memory, just on the off chance that you wouldn’t be able to come back again for a while. On the wall behind the Pharaoh was a shining slab of gold, the tablet of Ahkmenrah. Your uncle Larry had told you that the tablet was magic, though when you had asked him what it did, he shook his head with a smile, promising to show you one day.
Carefully, you moved around, being sure to not touch anything, ‘Look with your eyes Y/N’, you recall your Mom telling you when she took you to an art gallery once. So you did just that, drinking in everything with your eyes. A small yawn escaped your lips, and you suddenly realise that perhaps it was time to leave the exhibit, and join your class. Stepping carefully, you stop in front of the gate, you heart beating rapidly in your chest. Where there had been a child sized gap on your way in, the gate was somehow now closed, and try as you might, you could not get it to budge. You were trapped! “Help me!” You shriek as loudly as your lungs would allow. “Somebody please help me!” Your screams mix with tears as you cry, fright settling into your bones. You paused your cries for a few moments, waiting with a bated breath on the off chance you heard someone coming your way to rescue you. No such luck, you had no other choice but to continue calling out, praying that someone was still in the museum, or perhaps that Uncle Larry would be starting work soon, then he could rescue you!
Your voice grows hoarse and your throat hurts, and you find yourself unable to call out any longer. Slumping down to the ground, you curl your knees up to your chest and rest your forehead against them, wrapping your arms around yourself to bring some comfort back to the situation. Someone would notice you missing soon, if they hadn’t already. Your parents would be expecting to see you at home when they arrived back from work tonight, of course they would look for you, and they would find you soon too. With your head buried down, you didn’t see the bright light sweep across Ahkmenrah’s tablet, a bright white shine glossing across every line in the golden tablet. You did however, feel it, a breeze seemingly coming from nowhere rushing all around you, picking your hair up before dumping it back down over your back and shoulders. For a few seconds, it was as if everything in the museum was holding its breath, before sighing deeply, allowing all the stress that had been built up, to be let go of.
At first you think nothing of the strange sensation, making it out to be your imagination, though that all changes rapidly, when you hear what sounds to be concrete grinding against itself, before you feel the room tremble, a loud rumbling moving throughout the tomb.  Slowly you lift your head up, tears still streaming down your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from your sobbing. Craning your neck, you look up and up, until you come face to face with one of the Anubis statues, though something had changed, whereas before both statues had been looking dead ahead, they now had their heads faced directly at you. You’re too scared to breathe, afraid of what may happen if you do, before you have the chance to take action, both statues take a step towards you lifting their spears. A blood curdling scream erupts from your lungs, as you leap to your feet, flinging yourself towards the back of the tomb, throwing yourself behind the sarcophagus, the ceiling was lower there you had noticed earlier, and you hoped it was low enough for the statues to not be able to reach you. You curl up into yourself once again, your back pressed against the golden coffin, your entire body trembling with both fear and sobs.
A similar sound as before echoes from behind you, though it sounds far smoother and more practiced, perhaps it was the statues again? You’re too scared to look, curling in further against yourself, trying in vain to make yourself invisible. Behind you, the lid of the sarcophagus slowly glides off, a figure sitting upright and looking around his tomb.
<<ooo>>
His guards were on edge, why was that? Had something occurred as he was waking up? Ahkemnrah slowly moved his arms out in front of him, his shoulder blades popping once, before the discomfort alleviated itself. Turning to his left, he looked at the two statues, calling out to them in his native tongue. “Put away your weapons, there is no danger here!”
  The two statues did as told, though they remained positioned directly before him, rather than returning to their rightful place at the entrance of his tomb. Ahk shook his head softly, brunette curls swaying slightly against his forehead, there was an oddsound emanating from his tomb, one he was rather unfamiliar with. With great care, he lifted himself out and onto the floor, his bare feet permanently calloused, even in reanimation. The smell of chemicals assaulted he newly regained senses, he could not wait until his wing of the museum had been restored, at least then the smell of fresh paint would no longer cling to everything in his tomb. Crystal blue eyes gaze around the tomb, as his ears listen out for the odd sound he had awoken to, it seemed to have ceased, at least for the time being, perhaps it was something to do with the work that the builders had been doing in the area lately? Ahk moves over to collect his peschent from its display pedestal, fitting it to his head once again, he may no longer be in Egypt but he was still Pharaoh here at the museum.
There it was again, that noise! Ahk pivots on his heel, looking back at his empty sarcophagus, he knew for a fact that there was nothing in there that could be making any sound, however, there was a small gap between it and the wall. Surely there was nothing there that could be making such a noise? Despite his unsureness, he makes his way around the end of the sarcophagus, gazing down the side against the wall. There, curled up in on herself was a small child, trembling and crying softly. His heart ached for the child, all alone and frightened, how had she gotten in here? Larry had told him there would be no visitors this way for a few weeks, with the entrance blocked off… He pushes his questions to the back of his mind, instead, he crouches down, smiling gently across at the girl, leaving a decent amount of distance between them, to avoid startling her further. “You are safe young one, no harm shall come to you now. What has happened?”
Your head flies up, turning to look directly at the man who had spoken, coming face to face with someone you had only ever seen artist impressions of in your books. Surely this was impossible, you couldn’t possibly be talking to Ahkmenrah? “I – I was here with school… The gate, I crawled through it to look around, but someone closed it! I can’t get out.”
Ahk nods softly, standing up slowly from his crouched position, extending his hand to you. He watches you carefully, a look of fear and adoration flickering across your eyes as you seem to contemplate whether you should take his hand or not. Gently, you reach up, your small hand clasping around his larger warm one. With ease, he pulls you to your feet, your clothes covered in dust from where you had been resting on the ground. “I am Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, what is your name young one?”
Your words catch in your throat as you listen to the man before you introduce himself, he truly was the Pharaoh you had read about all of these years, the fourth Pharaoh of Egypt was holding your hand, waiting for your reply. Stuttering with nerves, you bow your head. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m ah…. I’m a student at Rose Hill elementary.”
“Ah, you are a scholar then Y/N?” Ahk asks softly, leading you out from your hiding place, and out into the main entrance of his tomb.
You shake your head wildly, the tears slowly drying from your cheeks, with no more threatening to spill either. “No, I mean not yet. I’m only seven.” Ahkmenrah stops suddenly, and you worry you had said something wrong, though you realise quickly that that is not the case. In a language you have never heard before, his voice echoes up to the Anubis statues, who continued to watch you intently. “Open the gate immediately, I must find Larry so he may return the young one to her family.”
The statues bow before their King, the ground shaking as they march over to the gate, arriving in only four paces, where it had taken you far longer. The metal gate shrieks in protest as the Anubis’ peel it away from its hinges, a loud snap echoing around the tomb and hall when the metal is yanked free from the wall. The statues take a step backwards, one holding the gate at its side, as if it would attempt to replace it on its hinges. Ahk moves forwards, his cape billowing behind him as he moves at a fast pace, his mind racing, trying to think of where Larry would be this early in his shift. What Ahk failed to realise, was that he was perhaps walking too quickly, his long legs carrying him down the corridor with ease, it wasn’t however, until he looked back to ensure that you were following, that he recognised the quick jog you had adopted in order to keep up. “My apologies Y/N, I did not mean to cause you to rush. Please, forgive me.”
You catch up quickly, though you’re glad to no longer be running, walking a much more pleasant mode of transport in your opinion. “It’s alright, I have little legs, it happens.” You shrug lightly, following once again as Ahkmenrah leads, this time at a slower meandering walk. You couldn’t help but find it unusual, surely a Pharaoh would never normally apologise to someone beneath him, even if you were a child. And dead or no, Ahkmenrah was still a Pharaoh…
As you reach the end of the long, paint filled corridor, you come across caution tape which had certainly not been there when you had entered earlier in the day. “I do not mean to pass judgment young one, but did you not notice this? It seems to be a rather vibrant colour, surely it would be difficult to miss.”
“It wasn’t there when I came down here! If it had been, then I wouldn’t have entered! I’m not stupid you know.” You may be young, but you weren’t dumb, you knew what caution tape meant, and you would never normally do something so reckless.
Ahk can’t help but grin, turning away from you before you can see his expression, for someone so young, you sure were quick with your words. He found it rather refreshing, to have someone speak so candidly with him, not caring that he was King. In his time, when he ruled, no one would dare accuse him of thinking they were stupid. Yet here was this child, a meagre girl of seven, who had no issue with calling him out. “Of course you are not stupid, I am glad you were unharmed in your expedition down here however.” Ahk offered in a gentle tone, moving through the museum.
Your eyes grow wide as you enter the miniature diorama room you had looked through with your friends earlier, people shouting could be heard from inside each diorama, along with a train puffing along its track. “They – They’re alive?” You gasp, head swimming with what you had always considered to be impossible.
Ahk looks back at you once again, his head tilted to the side gently, he was unused to people being surprised by the exhibits coming to life at dusk. Larry was of course aware of the late-night happenings of the Museum, as were his son Nick, and the docent Rebecca, who despite having finished her latest piece on Sacajawea often found her way back to the museum to spend her evening’s with Larry. You however had never experienced this before, and your shock was understandable. “Yes young one, from dusk till dawn with the magic of my Tablet, everything in this museum comes alive. Despite most being made of wax, they all behave just as they would if they were the real thing.”
Something that would likely to have had you killed for back in Ahkmenrah’s time, you interrupt his explanation, instead opting to race over to the ancient Roman diorama. “My friends and I were looking at this one today. Up on the Colosseum there was a Roman Soldier trying to push a cowboy off. My friend thought someone had set it up as a joke. But, they did that themselves?” You gasp out, looking over the diorama where the Roman soldiers were busy, seemingly forming an attack plan.
“Yes, I imagine that would have been Jedediah and Octavius. Mostly the two are able to put aside their differences and are close friends, however I believe there had been a misunderstanding between the two last night, it must not have been resolved before dawn rose.” Ahk explains, watching you carefully as you peer down into the diorama, your eyes shining like stars in amazement. He had not expected you to take to this as well as you were, from what Larry had told him, he had spent days attempting to wrap his head around the situation. Yet here you were, drinking it all in. “Come along Y/N, we must get you home. It is late, and I am positive your family will be frightened for your welfare.”
<<ooo>>
As you round yet another corner, you are stopped by none other than President Roosevelt and his steed. Ahkmenrah stands in front of you, obscuring you partially from him. “Good evening Ahk, I hope all is well? Who have we here, surely she isn’t a new exhibit?” Teddy grins, waving at you softly.
Ahkmenrah steps to the side, allowing you to be seen fully by the President now. “This is Y/L Y/L/N, she was separated from her school group today, and found her way into my tomb, we are on our way to get her home.”
“Miss Y/L/N, it is a pleasure to meet you I’m Theodore Roosevelt, though most call me Teddy. It is wonderful to make your acquaintance.” Teddy smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Little Texas whinnies , stamping one leg impatiently. “I had best continue on my patrol. Have a wonderful evening both of you, I hope we will see you again Miss Y/L/N.” He tips his hat, before riding off, the clop of horse shoes could be heard for quite some time after wards, the tiled floor doing nothing to muffle the sound.
After one final corridor, you find yourself back in the foyer of the museum, where your day had started. It felt so long ago now, but it really was only a few hours ago that you had arrived. The platform where the T-Rex had stood in the morning was now vacant, despite all you had seen during your walk with Ahkmenrah, you hadn’t expected even the dinosaur skeleton to come alive! You wondered where it could’ve run off to? “No, I haven’t seen her. I’m looking don’t worry, I promise if I see any sign of her I’ll call you immediately.”  A familiar voice says from the reception desk, his back is facing you, but you would recognise him anywhere.
Just as he hangs up the phone, your voice calls from across the foyer. “Uncle Larry!” You shout, sprinting away from the Pharaoh, and living him in the dust. Larry does a 180° on the spot, his eyes blown wide as he sees you racing toward him, followed closely by a surprised looking Ahk.
“Y/N? My God, everyone’s worried sick about you!” Larry exclaims, bending down to his knees and wrapping his arms around you tightly.
You throw your arms around his neck, grinning from ear to ear, releasing a sigh you hadn’t known you were holding. Despite how kind Ahkmenrah had been to you, along with all those you had met throughout the museum, there was a wave of relief that washed over you as you found someone you knew. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get lost, I’m sorry!” You whisper against his shoulder, feeling a shadow cast over the two of you now that Ahkmenrah had arrived.
Larry looks up, smiling at the Pharaoh. “How did you find her Ahk?”
“It seems as if the caution tape leading to my wing of the museum had fallen down.  Y/N found the gate to my tomb slightly opened and entered. I would dare say while she was in there, one of the end of day guards came around to ensure everything was in its rightful place, and in doing so they closed the gate to my tomb, locking her in there with me until I awoke.” Ahk looked down at you, your check resting against Larry’s shoulder, the crease between your eyebrows disappearing as you once again felt safe. “How do you know Y/N, Larry?”
Larry carefully stands, picking you up and placing you on the black leather desk chair, where you quickly make yourself comfortable. “She’s my niece.” He smiles fondly, to which Ahk nods. “Thank you for keeping her safe. I knew she’d find her way to your exhibit one way or another, she’s rather obsessed with Ancient Egypt.” Larry chuckles, lowering his voice so only Ahk could hear him.
“That would certainly explain all of the questions she asked me. Though she found questions to ask the others also.”
“Oh God, the others! She’ll need therapy after tonight! She’s too young to have to understand all of this!” Larry gasps, a coughing fit taking him over as he sucks in too much air.
Ahk places his hand on the night guards’ shoulder, comforting him until he can once again breathe properly. “I do not think that will be necessary. Y/N did not seem to be afraid at all, perhaps from the Anubis in my tomb there was some slight fear, but aside from that, she got along rather well with everyone, and they all seemed quite fond of her too.”
Larry lifts his eyebrows in surprise, turning to look back at you over his shoulder. You were sitting cross legged on the large chair, your hand gripping the desk in front of you, and using it to propel yourself around in circles. “Really? That’s – Well that’s rather surprising…. Are you sure, maybe she’s in shock? This is a lot to take in.”
“I do not know for sure Larry, though I do know that she promised at least twelve different people that she would be back soon.” Ahk smiles, watching as you spin yourself too fast, the chair finally coming to a stop as your face grows pale. Slowly you take your hand away from the desk, deciding to take a break from spinning.
“Thank you Ahk, I’ll talk to her after all of this is over, see if she’s as okay as she seems to be. Would you mind just keeping an eye on her for a little bit longer? I need to call her parents back, let them know that we’ve found her.” Ahk smiles as he makes his way back to you, lifting himself up onto the desk beside you, as you spin in your chair to face him, your entire face lighting up with joy as you look at him.
  As Larry calls your parents, reassuring them that you’re safe, you pick up your conversation with the Pharaoh once more. “Can I ask how old you are?” You grin, causing him the chuckle. He had grown fond of you over his short time with you, the inquisitive mind of a child had often intrigued him, and he found himself answering questions he would never usually.
“At the time of my passing, I was nineteen. Though if you count my age by the years I have experienced, then I am a few thousand years old.” He offers, allowing you to take your pick of which age you would rather associate him with.
You squint your eyes, counting on your fingers for a few moments, before beaming up at him. “So that means in twelve years, I’ll be the same age as you!”
Ahk can’t help but laugh, noticing Larry send you both a curious glance as he continues to speak with your family. “Technically you are correct. There will come a day where we are both nineteen.”
<<ooo>>
It didn’t take long before your Mom and Dad had arrived at the museum, Larry ushering you outside when he saw their car pull up out the front on the street. You waved goodbye to those who had gathered in the foyer to meet you, before turning to grin at Ahk. “Thank you Ahkmenrah.” It was plain and simple, but it was enough to cause the Pharaoh to grin widely at you. Larry followed you outside, opening the back door of the car for you, where you were instantly met with your parents gushing over how happy they were to see you, and that you were safe.
Moving away from the car as it drove off, Larry made his way back into the museum, locking the door behind him once again. Teddy rides up beside him, peering down at the exhausted expression on the night guards face. “Lawrence my friend, what’s that matter? Miss Y/L/N is on her way home now, surely that is good news?”
Larry nods his head yes, before it turns into a shake of no. “I think it’s going to be very hard to keep her away from here from now on.”
<<ooo>>
Just as Larry had predicted, it had been near impossible to keep you away from the Museum of Natural History. Since your first night there, all you could think about was returning, day in and day out you begged your parents to let you go back, though after the way your last trip there had gone, they were concerned about allowing you to return. This however didn’t stop you from pleading with them, coming up with every reason you could think of as to why you should be allowed to go back. Although you spoke about your time in the museum at night, you always said that it was just you, looking around at all of the exhibits, until you had found Uncle Larry. No one would believe you if you told them the truth about the museum, and you worried that if you did say something about what truly happened that night, that your parents would forbid you from returning there, and perhaps from speaking with Uncle Larry, he was after all, the one who always encouraged your love of history and fantastical stories at family gatherings.
After months of begging, pleading and bargaining your parents finally relented, allowing you to spend the weekend with Uncle Larry, under the pretext that you would be visiting the Museum during the day with Rebecca, and not while Larry was at work in the evenings. That of course, was not the case, not that your parent’s ever need know.
 It soon became tradition, that you would spend one weekend a month with Larry and Rebecca, sometimes with Nicky too, depending if it was Larry’s week on or off with him. And for two nights each month, you would spend dusk to dawn with the museum exhibits, learning as much as was humanly possible from them, swapping stories, though yours were never as interesting as theirs, at least in your opinion.
However there was always one exhibit you spent the most time with, you’re not sure when it had started, but at some stage during one of your weekends there, you had found yourself waiting patiently inside Ahkmenrah’s tomb, drumming your fingers against your thighs as you sat cross legged in the middle of the room, just waiting for dusk to fall, and for the tablet to work its magic. The thrill of magic filling the air and the breeze flowing around you, as the soft glow of light worked its tendrils into the fabric of every being in the museum, was incredible, and something you found utterly amazing.  From that day on, that was where you would always be found in the minutes before dusk, you would then spend plenty of time speaking with the Pharaoh, mostly about his life, as you learned what you could about Ancient Egypt. After a while, you moved on to others, never playing favourites with who you spent your time with, it was someone different each visit. When Larry and Teddy would come around, giving the call that there was one hour left until dawn, you would return to Ahkmenrah, and spend that final hour together, this time however, it was him asking the questions.
Ahk would never admit this aloud, but he found joy in waking up each night to you eagerly awaiting him, you grinning face being the first he saw on the days you were visiting. There was something comforting in having a familiar face to greet him when he woke, each morning he returned to nothing, there was no afterlife for him, at least not one he could recall. Each morning, as he fell asleep, there were no dreams to be had, no memories, there was nothing but an endless void for him to float through, desperately awaiting the night so he could awake. Each night felt like an eternity, though on the days where he knew he would wake to see you, the void seemed just that bit shorter. He found it difficult to track how many months had passed of your visits, each time he spoke with you he had an enjoyable time. You asked in depth questions, even sometimes things that surprised him! He often forgot how young you were when you spoke, the amount of thought you put into each and every question, not just posed to him, but to others as well, they were all well researched, and it was clear for anyone to see, that you cared about what you were doing. Which made you seem far older than you were. Ahk also took pleasure in asking about your life, hearing about your time at school, your family, hobbies, and the fun things your friend got up to, he loved hearing it all! Knowing that you were living a full life, while doing what you loved made him exceptionally happy.
He had no need to keep track of time as the living do, though he noticed the passage of time in other ways, in watching Nicky and you grow up before his very eyes, and in watching Larry and Rebecca’s relationship change. It was obvious that time was getting away from him, as it almost felt as if when Larry had announced his engagement to Rebecca that only a week had passed before he was showing everyone photographs from the wedding. Ahk knew that you only visited two days per month, though with no other guests coming into the museum on the nights between, they all began to bleed together, into one long night. Which is why it came as such a shock when he awoke one night, to find yourself, Larry, Rebecca, Nicky, Teddy Sacajawea, Octavius, Jed, and a few Huns all gathered in his tomb.
“Sorry for the intrusion my boy, but Y/N suggested we do this here so that you would be involved. And also so we could keep it away from Rexy.” Teddy grinned, as Ahk climbed out of the Sarcophagus, padding over to the small congregation, the two Anubis statues keeping a close eye on everyone, ready to pounce if they felt there was any threat to their king.
“Happy birthday Y/N!” Your family called, the three of them wrapping you tightly in a hug. “Double digits, that’s exciting!”
Ahk frowned for a moment, taking in the scene before him, had he known it was your birthday? He could not recall you ever telling him when it was, and he was positive he would remember such important information. He watched as Nicky darted off to the side of the room, collecting a white box and carrying it over to you. Lifting the lid, his eyes darted between the cake and the grin on your lips. He was having a difficult time wrapping his head around what had been said, double digits Larry had said. That would mean you were ten years old today? Surely it had not been three years since he had met you. He felt as if he had found you locked in this very room only a few months ago, and not years. Though looking at you now, it was clear as day that you were older, there was no use trying to deny it. As napkins filled with cake were passed around, you walked over to him, a grin still pasted across your lips. “Happy birthday young one.” He smiled, causing you to laugh softly. He was unsure of how much longer he would be able to call you that, if things were still as they had been when he was alive, there came a point where one no longer liked to be referred to as young. Though you would always be young compared to him, he understood that to others, you were aging correctly, and that he himself was the anomaly here.
“Thank you Ahkmenrah, sorry for bringing everyone in here. Despite what teddy says, it wasn’t actually my idea.” Ahk cuts you off with a quirk of his eyebrow. “He asked where I was headed when he awoke, and I said that I was coming here. He took that as an invitation for everyone to join.”
Ahk can’t help but laugh, his eyes sparkling as they lock with yours. “You, and the others are always more than welcome in here Y/N. And please, you may call me Ahk, we have known each other long enough now for you to use my, how do you call it, nickname”
You nod your head yes, taking a bite of your slice of cake, savouring the flavour as the icing melted on your tongue. “Alright, Ahk it is then.”
So there we have it, chapter one of two or three! Fingers crossed you all liked this, I would love to hear what you think! And if you would like to be tagged in the future chapter(s) let me know! Also, the title of the story, and all chapters are from the song Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney, I would recommend checking it out here!
And on the off chance you’re at all interested in my other writings, here is my MASTERLIST
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shoelace-and-friends · 4 years ago
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Final week of dog grooming school+life updates
So my last week of grooming school was actually nine days ago, but my life since then has been a little busy so this week 8 post is late. That is fine though!
Day 36: MLK day. No class But uh, have a picture of Sterling, my instructor’s dandie dinmont terrier, for no reason other than I fucking love this dog. Look at him. This breed is so funky. Most affectionate dog I’ve ever met.
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Day 37: Winfield the miniture schnauzer
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I have to say, the classic terrier look is a fun one to groom. Unfortunately Winfield’s not exactly up to breed standards coat wize, so his fur was too soft to hand strip and I instead had to shave a schnauzer pattern into him to keep his hair shorter. That was still fun though. I think terriers are fun either way. I did mess up a little on his chest and took off a bit too much because I misunderstood a step in our textbook, but otherwise he looks pretty good I think. He was a well behaved dog on the table, but acted totally nuts when we were done lol.
Snookie the shih tzu
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I got to groom Snookie again! And it went a lot better than the first time. Last time she was kind of grumpy and fought me a bit and I had to muzzle her, but she was a lot more pleasent this time. Still not a fan of her feet touched (hardly any dogs are) but otherwise she was a lot more cooperative this time around and I didn’t need to muzzle her. When I last groomed her, it was about halfway through school so I think the big difference is that since then my ability to handle dogs has improved, which is why she was easier to groom this time.
Day 38: Rev the great Pyrenees
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Currently, I consider Rev the most difficult dog that I have groomed so far. And it is ENTIRELY because of her extra large size. I won’t lie, she knocked me over a few times while I groomed her lol. She’s a powerful girl. And too large to fit onto the grooming table. Most of her groom was spent either in the tub (that she took up most of the space in) or on the floor tied to a knob. She’s mostly just a bathe and brush, but a HUGE and very tedious deshed bathe and brush, which a great deal of was spent trying to get her not to move around too much. I think I put every muscle of my body into grooming her.
Willow the standard poodle (part 1)
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Willow is our class’ creative groom! Which basically means coloring the dog and making her look not like a dog lol. Willow is a momma who recently had her pups, is tired, and was in a dire need of a makeover to pick her mood up. This was only the first half of her creative grooming processes, which was the base groom and painting part of her black...stay tuned to see what she became...
Day 39: Baxter the corgi
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We were short on dogs during the morning because like, all but one dog either no-showed or had to cancel on us last minute. So...my two classmates ans I had to share Baxter. It was fun. This was his first salon groom! I think he had fun. Honestly maybe....a little too much fun. He got a little...ahem...excited in the middle of the groom and started humping the table. So uh. That was a thing that happened that we all had to see....
Willow the standard poodle (part 2)
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Ta da! Bet yoy were not expecting us to have turned her into Minnie Mouse! What a pretty girl! She was SO happy to have been made over. I think we made Willow feel pretty. Her mood changed in a big positive way.
Day 40: Graduation day!
I graduated! Groomed a maltese (forgot the photo, sorry), got my certificate of completion, and packed up and went home the next day!
UPDATES: Almost immediately after I got home, I’ve done a series of interviews at multiple salons. Some wanted to hire me, some I still haven’t heard back from, and I’ve got another interview tomorrow that I think should have a lot of promise. I’m hoping to get a job soon! Groomers are in high demand right now in my area so I think I will!
and here is Creampuff, a dog I groomed during a working interview (australian shepherd/rottweiler mix)
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And in other news, I am getting my very first puppy in march! Meet Nugget, my future Tibetan Spaniel <3 I can’t wait to take him home!
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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years ago
Text
“Wet Sugar” [Part 21 of 30]
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Summary: Erik has doubts about what he has done...
Mature Audience. NSFW. 
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"Gotta be careful, I know, I know You and me can't be nothing no more I've been lookin' for something from you I've been gettin' nothing at all You're such a fuckin' woman (woman) But deserves the fuckin' world, yeah…"
Lucky Daye—"Love You Too Much"
The saltwater in the pool soaked Erik's sunburned skin as he floated on his back. He would've preferred to swim at the cove, but going there was all her. Too much her.
That woman he tried to ignore became a specter before his eyes. He would catch glimpses of her around the compound, but she was like a rumor whispered in hushed tones. They were able to work around each other, but sometimes he caught her lingering above the gun range when he was there firing the new weapons with the other mercs. He acted like he didn't see her in the distance when she did that, or when he caught her slipping out of the kitchen when they all came to eat. He felt her eyes on him even when he couldn't directly see her.
He did the same, often hanging back after meals, sipping on dinner espresso and waiting to hear the side kitchen door open with her bounding in to help Leona clear away dishes and leftovers. Or he would stay out by the pool for a long time and catch the sound of leaves rustling as she snuck down to the cove using the secret path no one else knew about. She would sometimes cuss at Jerome while heading there and he would stifle a laugh while thinking about the first time he heard her talking to the iguana. The sound of her voice still thrilled him. It was the girlish softness of it mixed with the smart-ass personality behind it that still made him excited about her.
He dreamed about her. And Sydette.
Those night visions were often a replay of the earlier days of them alone at the compound. He'd wake up suddenly in the middle of the night clutching at his side hoping she was there. When he heard movement from Linda in the room next to his, he would pretend it was Sweet Pea sneaking out of her bed to crawl between him and Yani.
He knew from jump Yani despised Linda.
But that was to be expected because Linda tended to rub people the wrong way and of course...he had fucked the woman. Linda could be condescending to people that she felt were inferior to her. She treated a lot of the other mercs that way and they couldn't say shit because her skills were so tight and she proved it to be true time and time again. She never tried it with him. His game was tighter than hers and she respected that.
He never saw Yani act funky in front of Linda personally, but Linda often commented on how Leona was very nice to her, but Yani was just direct and spoke very little.
"She's efficient and like a damn ninja around here…but I can't get more than two words out of her when I ask her for stuff. It's like I'm bothering her own personal things. She acts like Klaue's house is her house. I had my feet on the coffee table and she walked past me with the laundry sucking her teeth."
Erik knew the reason why Yani was acting that way. It wasn't because of no feet on the furniture.
Klaue moved Linda into his house and her bedroom was next to Erik's. She was sleeping in Sweet Pea's old room. She was sleeping too close to him.
Yani wasn't the only one feeling irritated by new interactions.
He was feeling a way about her and Zachary.
Erik still lurked on her social media to see how she was doing. At first, it was to keep tabs on Sweet Pea from afar, and he could also see what Yani had to say about her classes. She was acing school like he knew she would, but it was the posts about her social life that had him uptight.
As expected, Zachary pounced on her, and Yani seemed open to the rekindling of some type of relationship because Erik saw pictures of them together at clubs and group gatherings. Yani had big smiles on her face when she posed with Zachary, and apparently, they took a trip to Jamaica together for a concert Kendall performed at. He saw pictures of them posing in front of a waterfall together in swimsuits holding hands while facing one another. Yani's eyes were closed and the grin on her face told him that they had either kissed before the picture was snapped, or they were about to kiss.
He couldn't even be all that mad on a certain level if he were honest with himself. He would've done the same thing. If he'd lost a bad bitch being stupid, he wouldn't waste time snatching her back up.
She looked happy in that picture. Zachary looked…enamored with her. Erik wondered if she was sleeping with him. Getting new dick to forget the old dick. Erik scoffed a bit while staring at them. Ain't no way Zachary could handle what Yani had. Fire pussy needed bomb ass dick. That was the only thing that kept Erik from going off seeing her with someone else that soon.
What nigga could compare to him with her?
He used to make that bitch's pussy jump when he called her on the phone. He could snap his fingers and have her pulling open her slit for him whenever he wanted it, had her cumming and crying and begging him not to stop until she couldn't hold onto him anymore. Made Yani sit anywhere he wanted—indoors or outdoors-with her legs wide open while he watched her slam a thick blue dildo in her pussy just to amuse him before he picked her up and stretched her walls out all night. He made her cum in her sleep with just the thought of him fucking her. She would lay in bed next to him having multiple orgasms that woke her ass up and made her beg him to fuck her wide awake. What could that civilian do for her?
She looked good though. Damn good. She had lost some weight from running around again, but shit was looking hella tight.
Shit.
Thinking about her in that picture made Erik want to fuck.
He climbed out of the pool and took himself a long shower. Afterward, he drove himself to a barbershop in Havensight and had his locs cut off and his beard trimmed and groomed. He needed the change. His mother had done it often when she needed a fresh start. At least two times in his life with her he had witnessed his mother shaving off her hair. Shedding old energy to welcome the new.
He felt a few eyes on him in the shop. Maybe they recognized him from being with Yani.
Before meeting up with Linda and Klaue in the main house he shot off a few emails to his grandfather and his Uncle. He also loaded more money onto Yani's credit card. She didn't use it all that much anymore, probably because she didn't want him tracking her purchases, but more than likely not wanting to stay connected to him. No matter what happened between them, he wanted her to have some sort of back-up support if she ever needed it. If not for herself, then for Sydette at least.
Strolling into the main house, both Klaue and Linda gave him a double-take when they saw his hair.
On the viewscreen in the living room, Erik posted up a picture of the C.I.A. agent that he was tracking for Klaue. The man had a mousy face and the strait-laced look of one who believed in toppling other governments in service of making America great again. A weak-looking yes man by the name of Everett K. Ross.
"U.S. Air Force. Decent pilot. Currently the Deputy Task Force Commander of the Joint Counterterrorism Center. He reports to the Secretary of State. That good ole boy, Thaddeus Ross."
"He's taking nibbles from me. I've been dropping hints at wanting to sell vibranium," Klaue said, "the U.S. wants their hands on all they can find. But he's a bit skittish right now."
"No one likes to look like they're in bed with mercs and terrorists," Linda said.
"The U.S. fucks with them all. They must be under scrutiny," Erik said.
"Any sales aren't going to be done in the U.S. The Great Satan needs to come where I say," Klaue barked.
"Nowhere in Europe," Erik said.
"Definitely not Africa," Linda added.
"What a wimpy looking oaf," Klaue surmised.
"That's what makes him effective. A milquetoast-looking face can get away with anything anywhere," Erik concluded.
"Well, the moment you find me a chunk of the good stuff I'll set up the sale," Klaue said.
The three of them sat around drinking until dinner. There was to be no meal at the house that night. Klaue took everyone out to a restaurant on the Northside of the island. The food was exceptional and Erik didn't get into any arguments with Neal or Huntsman. Surprising. There were great bars to crawl around and when Shipley let them toke on some blended weed, Erik felt pretty mellow. He actually wanted to hang out a bit.
Klaue caught a cab back to the compound but the rest of their crew stuck together. Linda was really floating, acting like the Snow White to their ragtag team of six non-Dwarfs. Shipley was trying to run game down on her, but Linda wasn't interested. She put up a front of being all business. But not with him.
He kept it friendly between them. Even when she sunbathed topless on the porch of Klaue's house, he treated her like his colleague.
It wasn't easy at times.
When his sexual urges came on strong, he was tempted to seek her out in her bed, but he didn't want the headache of Neal or Shipley. They were both jockeying for some play and there was nothing worse than working with hard-up men and the tension that jealousy brought.
Linda would give him looks sometimes and he hoped that no one else caught on.
Some really hard-sounding island music caught their attention and they stumbled upon a boisterous club that excited Linda. Shipley got into the spirit and they were all sucked into the space ordering drinks and watching the spectacle of winding hot bodies and good sounds. Linda grabbed Shipley's hand and dragged him out among the crowd. The place was a lot bigger inside than it looked outside and there was an actual stage on one side with a D.J. spinning tunes with a massive sound system. No wonder they could hear it blocks away.
Erik found a honey with loose hips and he followed her out onto the floor. Neal sprang for drinks and by the time it turned midnight, Erik had a good sweat and copped a few feels on some Grade A ass that seemed to come from an endless supply throughout the space. He found another shorty that made his temperature rise, and he was getting her number when she and a few other women swarmed the stage. The music was thumping and there were a few eager men on stage where a solitary chair sat in front of them.
Erik bought himself some Henny and walked closer to the stage with Neal and Shipley in tow.
"What's happening?"
Huntsman eased up beside them, his voice loud over the music.
"I don't know," Erik said.
"I think they are about to…ah yeah…we about to see some rump-shaking," Neal said.
A man with a chiseled chest poking out of his half-unbuttoned shirt sat on the chair as an MC talked to the crowd.
"What's the point of this?" Huntsman said.
"Watch and see," Neal said.
Erik sipped on his drink.
The music got a little buck and several women, even the one Erik was trying to mess with climbed on stage and took turns dancing with frenzied athleticism on the lap of the man who sat in the chair.
"Man…I couldn't do it!" Neal squealed.
Linda found her way over to them. Her face was flushed from dancing and drinking.
"Poor guy!" she said.
"Be right back, gonna refresh my drink."
Erik left them and headed to the bar. He could see the different women trying to out-dance one another, and by the time his new drink finally got to him, a new dude was in the chair getting his junk pummeled.
"Shit," Erik whispered.
These women were not playing. He grinned when he saw Linda reach up to the MC and he helped her on stage to take her turn at grinding on a stranger. She stood out with her light gray booty shorts and half top. Kicking off her sandals, she made the man sit on the floor of the stage as she did the splits and pounded her groin on him. Her wild cascade of curls covered part of her face. The audience went into a frenzy and Erik could hear Shipley and Neal cheering her on.
"Did y'all dare her to get up there?" Erik asked when he returned to his entourage.
"Nope. She said they needed an expert up there," Shipley said.
The woman could move, and she played to the audience while she awaited her chance to dance on the next guy in the chair.
"This gyal is on fiyah!" the MC shouted.
Linda wiggled her hips fast, throwing her cheeks in a wild circle. She dropped down and grabbed her ankles letting the audience watch her cheeks move.
"She too much, man…too much!" Shipley shouted.
"Goodness gracious," Neal said.
Erik looked around the stage to see who he was talking about, but then he saw Twyla moving near the front.
"Twyla!" Erik shouted.
"You know her?" Neal asked.
Twyla looked his way. She saw who was calling her and she smiled.
"Big nigga. Where yuh hair go?"
Twyla's hand rubbed his head.
"God damn…she thicker than a pot of grits," Neal barked looking toward the stage again.
"That girl is small—" Shipley answered.
"Not that one…her. Oh my damn. That's…shit. That's Klaue's girl," Neal said.
Erik saw Yani staring at the stage. He recognized a couple of her friends with her that saw him fuck her in a club.
"Don't be scared to say hello," Twyla said.
Her eyes regarded Erik's face.
"Yuh can't hide back here."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Lookin' like yuh back at Juvay," Twyla teased.
One of Yani's friends jumped on stage and stood next to Linda.
"How is she?"
His eyes were sheepish looking at Twyla.
"She's as good as can be expected from a bad break up. Doing well in school—"
"Sydette?"
"A busy body. And you?"
Erik shrugged.
"Still hurts, yeah?" she said.
He didn't answer.
"I see it on your face. Hers too."
Twyla glanced back at her cousin.
"She say yuh leaving the island."
"Yeah."
His eyes were focused on Yani.
"Big man…if there are things yuh still need to say to her, best tell her before yuh bounce. End it the right way with she, yeah?"
He decided to suck it up. Test the waters.
He sipped on his drink again as he walked over to her.
"Yani."
She turned to look at him and he realized it was a mistake. He should've kept his ass in the back and ignored her.
"Killmonger."
Damn.
He got goosebumps hearing his name on her lips despite the coldness. Her eyes took in his new appearance and he couldn't tell if she liked it or not. Indifference settled around her toward him.
The crowd surged and she turned back to watch her friend on stage. He stood behind her and could only concur with Neal's words. Lil Mama was thick as fuck, and the tight black pants she wore did not hide a damn thing. His body yearned for hers. He stepped closer, close enough to feel her body heat. He wanted to kiss the back of her neck and trace his tongue around her tattoos again. Erik had to fight his own hands to keep them from circling her waist and pulling her back toward him. As far as she was concerned, he wasn't even there.
"She doin' too much."
He heard one of Yani's friends talk about Linda.
"She gwine break his dick if she keep that up!" Another one cackled.
Yani giggled and covered her mouth.
Erik's eyes swept back up to the stage. Linda was living it up in the spotlight, and she was getting plenty of rousing support from a lot of men and women.
The current man in the seat had a serious expression on his face, like all that ass pounding his dick from different women wasn't affecting him in any way. Stoneface.
"Go up there, Yani."
She shook her head as her friends cat-called her name.
The D.J. changed the song to a track that had been remixed to death over the years. But it revived the crowd and the women on stage. Linda received some more cheers when she had another turn at bat, and for the first time, Stoneface reacted a little bit. The audience laughed and the MC teased the man about losing his cool.
Yani and her friends walked away and Erik felt himself actually deflate a bit. Yani straight ignored his ass. He watched the lights of the club hit the bronze of her top with them titties sitting, her platinum fade lined up tight, and that ass just being totally disrespectful in public.
He felt absolutely proud to see her not giving a fuck about him.
Gulping down the last of his Henny, he saw the MC bend down to the crowd trying to catch Yani's attention. She stopped with the rest of her homegirls to listen to him. Her hands flew up waving him off, but her friends nudged her arm. She put a hand on her waist and said something to the MC, and Twyla sauntered over pushing her up toward the steps leading upstage.
Fuck.
She went up the steps and once the full lights hit her, Erik had to stop and take inventory of what he had once. That used to be his woman, but there was something different about her that was turning him on in a way that made him feel out of control.
Linda saw Yani approach the chair and the look on her face told Erik that she was in a bit of shock recognizing the woman who cleaned her room and cooked her food.
The MC let Linda and a couple of other women do their booty shakes again, but then Yani stepped over the man, spread her legs wide and did the slowest drop down onto his lap that put the audience in a tizzy. Unlike the other women who moved with hyped up energy, Yani slowed it all the way down until her cheeks were popping in a way that had the man's legs jerking.
Erik felt his jaw get tight when Yani turned her head to look back at everyone as she let each ass cheek bounce in syncopated rhythm. She rolled her hips and the MC, along with several other people on stage started laughing hard and slapping arms. The MC started jumping up and down and pointing.
"Lawd -a-mercy! She done made this nigga buss in his pants!"
Yani lifted up and stepped away from the man with his eyes glazed over and his left hand grabbing at his protruding erection. Eyes watched Yani sashay away, and even Linda gave a painful-looking laugh as her eyes watched Yani leave.
"She dangerous. That gyal dangerous!" The MC shouted.
Yani's friends laughed with her as the entered back into the fray of bodies swaying to the music. A few men tried to get Yani's attention, but she was focused on her friends.
A song they used to listen to at the house came on and Erik took long strides to get to her.
"Come dance with me," he said touching her hand.
She pulled back from him as if he stung her.
"I don't want to dance with you."
Her friends surrounded him and their eyes were ready to cut him in two.
"It's just a dance, cuz," Twyla said nudging her cousin's arm as she walked past heading to the floor herself along with other people. The lap dance show was over.
Yani shoved past him and her friends followed.
Bet.
He headed back to the bar and ordered a couple of shots. Shipley joined him and they drank and talked, watching people dance on the floor. Erik tracked Yani's movement as she danced with different men.
"Can't believe that's the same chick at the compound," Shipley said.
"Yep," Erik answered.
They watched Neal approach Yani and she wasted no time sending him on his way. The way her friends swooped in to protect her, Neal had no chance of harassing her further.
"Whew, I gotta slow down," Linda said.
She plopped down on a stool next Erik and asked for water from the bartender. Twyla walked past him and gave him a look. Erik shrugged his shoulders at her and Twyla rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Had no idea Yani was a regular Cinderella," Linda said.
"She fine," Shipley said.
Erik found that surprising since he never showed interest in women built like Yani before.
"Thought you didn't like thick bitches," Erik said.
Linda eyed Shipley with amusement.
"She could be the exception," Shipley said gulping down a shot of tequila with lime.
"He'll fight you for that," Neal said.
Erik watched Neal grab a beer from the bar.
"What?" Shipley said.
Erik felt his face harden.
"That's Killmonger's pussy."
"Shut the fuck up," Erik snarled.
"You're fucking the help?" Linda asked.
She tossed her head back and laughed at him.
Erik stepped off the stool he sat on and left the bar in a huff.
"Killmonger…hey….hold on…."
Linda followed him and tugged on his arm.
"Hey…we're just drinking and pulling your chain. Calm down."
She steered him to the dancefloor.
"Relax. Loosen up."
Linda swayed in front of him and tried moving his arms. His eyes darted about looking for Yani again, but he had lost track of her.
"How can you not dance to this?"
Linda moved around him, bumped her hip into his and he eventually gave in and danced a little.
"Oh, come on now. You're better than this. We fucked it up in Jo'burg. You remember that club with the roof that was caving in!"
Erik smiled. He remembered. The music was hot, fast, and so were the club patrons. That was a good night. Right before the raid…
"…fucking her?"
Erik missed what Linda said. The confusion in his eyes made her repeat the question.
"Is it true? You and Yani?"
"Nah. Neal had been bothering her and I put a stop to it."
"He is aggressive. Nasty piece of work."
His eyes flicked around. Searching still.
"You want to fuck her?"
His eyes glared at her like she was insane.
"It's just a question. She watches you all the time—"
"I barely have time to—"
"I'm just telling you…I think she has a thing for you. I hear her cleaning your room and she stays in there for a long time. You are a neat freak, so there's no reason for her to be in there so long."
Yani in his room lingering?
"I catch her watching you at the gun range…"
Erik dismissed Linda's words when he felt his cell vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out.
A text from Twyla.
Yani is alone in her apartment this weekend. Chez has Sydette. Roommate gone too. Chance to talk?
Erik stopped dancing.
Unger ran up and grabbed Linda's hand to dance.
"I'ma head back to the compound," he said.
Linda nodded her head.
"I'll catch a cab."
"I'll let the others know."
He watched her and Unger head further into the crowd on the floor.
###
Looking around his room, Erik tried to see what Yani would see.
A clean room. Sterile almost without her there anymore. Two boxes of condoms on the dresser. One empty and the other half used. She would probably think he had been with Linda. He hadn't. But he was seeing women outside the compound again. He couldn't help it. It kept his mind off of her.
But seeing her that night brought up all the things festering in his mind about her. Was she okay? Was Sydette fine? Did Yani hate him? How would she react if she saw him in public?
If Linda was able to glean Yani's feelings for him around the compound, maybe she still had a soft spot for him. Maybe he could…
No.
It was stupid to think of going to her. Even with Twyla's encouragement. He hopped into his bed fully nude. No one was at the compound. The secret tracker he placed in Klaue's arm told him the man was on the other side of the island. Inside a hotel. Probably with a woman.
Staring up at the ceiling, his mind settled on Yani again. Seeing her wind her body on that man onstage made him groan as he felt on his dick.
He reached for his cell again and read Twyla's text two more times.
It wasn't worth it.
What could he say to her? I'm checking to see if you've been able to salvage your life after I blew it up?
But damn…
She was so beautiful on stage. Her whole demeanor was just…sexy…bold. She used to make him cum in his pants all the time. Maybe she did that because she knew he was there watching.
He slammed his fists on his bed.
He wasn't going to get any sleep. He would think about her all night.
He reached into his nightstand and pulled out some weed. He smoked a bit and felt his muscles ease up from the tension he carried in them after seeing her.
Killmonger.
His name on her lips sounded so dead to him. There was no malice in her eyes, but they seemed clouded like she was really and truly over him.
That's what he wanted, right? He told her to focus on school and to forget him. But faced with it, faced with true indifference…he didn't want her to forget him.
Taking a long drag he thought of Linda and what she told him. She noticed Yani keeping her eyes on him. She had to still feel something. Lingering in his bedroom had to mean something. Too many good memories in the place. All the things they did to one another. All the time they slept together in a pile with Sydette between them.
Twyla was right. He had to have a final conversation with her that didn't come from a place of anger, but one of love. They still had to part, but he wanted it to be on better terms. He did have things he wanted to say to her. Secret things. Maybe even promise her something that he didn't think he had a right to.
Stubbing out the joint in an ashtray, Erik jumped out of bed and put on some loose sweatpants and shirt.
He borrowed one of Klaue's smaller cars, a blue Beemer with a moon roof.
He let air flow through from the roof of the car as he drove to Yani's place. Every few minutes he thought about turning around, but once he pulled into the parking lot of her small complex, he was fully committed to talking with her.
After a bit of deep breathing in the car, Erik walked up the stairs and tried to find the right words to say. Once he was in front of her door on the far end of the floor, he felt a bit calmer, less afraid. He debated about texting or calling her. It was too late. He was already there and high as fuck…
He pressed his ear to her door.
Noise.
Talking.
No…not talking.
Moaning.
Shit.
"Yes, Baby!"
The seductive mewling in her voice raised his blood pressure.
She was fucking someone.
Zachary.
Erik removed his ear from the door. His hands pressed against the door frame and he closed his eyes. His body burned with rage. That little punk bitch.
He heard a loud male groan erupt from behind the door.
Erik clenched his fists.
The weed had him spinning scenarios. Bust the fucking door down and drag her off that nigga's dick. Or wait for Zachary to leave and pound on the door and…and do what?
Yell at her for getting dick when he had empty boxes of condoms in his room that she saw? Two days prior he was guts deep in some bitch with big ass titties making her holler out his name. Nutted all in that woman's face and didn't even think about Yani while he did it.
But that's your woman in there. Giving your pussy away.
Erik walked away from the apartment.
Back in the car, he pulled out his cell.
Call her. Break up their little party.
Fuming in the car, he sat there for a long time until he could think straight. The weed still had his mind spinning, but he was able to drive back to the compound and crawl into his bed. The sun was rising when he finally fell asleep.
###
"Hey, lazybones."
Erik blinked his eyes.
Linda looked down at him.
"You were out for a long time. Thought I'd check on you," she said.
Erik sat up.
He was still wearing his sweats.
"What time is it?"
"Two."
"Shit," he said.
"Stay in bed. You looked worn out last night."
Erik leaned against the headboard.
"You want anything to eat?"
"Nah. I'm just gonna chill. I feel tired still."
She touched his forehead.
"Are you feeling sick?"
He shook his head and pulled off his sweatshirt and pants. Crawling under the covers he tucked himself into a ball.
"I'll be up in an hour or so."
"Okay. Call me if you need anything. I have to get some things in town. Klaue is still out."
"Cool."
He pretended to go to sleep and Linda left his side.
When she opened his bedroom door, Yani was using a soft bristle broom to sweep the floor in the hall.
"Don't bother him. He's sleeping in," Linda said.
Erik saw Yani's eyes sweep over Linda's short house dress, and then her eyes caught his on the bed before Linda shut the door.
"Bring him some of that soup around three," Linda said.
"Him sick?"
The lilt in Yani's voice had concern.
"No," Linda said.
"Does he need medicine?"
"No. Just bring him the soup to the kitchen like I asked and he'll be fine."
Erik stayed curled under the covers until he saw from his bedroom viewscreen that Yani had left the house. He jumped in the shower and cleaned up, shaved, and threw on some light cologne. He pulled on some beige loungers and hopped back on the bed.
Exactly in one hour, he saw Yani heading down to Klaue's main house with a covered tray. She entered the space and headed to the kitchen.
He hopped on the intercom.
"Can you bring that here, please? In my room?"
He watched Yani's face look perturbed as she stood in the kitchen. She knew he was watching her.
"Yuh not sick. Get it yourself."
She left the kitchen.
"Bring it here please."
He watched her calculate her next move. Unlike the time when they were together at the compound alone, Klaue had everything watched. If she refused to do her job, Klaue would see it. The bedrooms were pretty secure because Klaue did allow that privacy. He wanted her in his room.
"I have some laundry to be picked up too," he said.
He saw her lip pout and he smiled. Her cell phone rang.
"Yeah?" she answered.
Erik waited. A smile came across her face and she started to giggle into the phone. Flirty-like.
"Mi can't tonight…can't. I'm working…"
She hung up and put her cell in her back pocket. Her smile left her face when she picked up the food tray and carried it to his room. She kicked the door with her foot softly.
He opened it.
"Thanks," he said taking it from her hand.
She turned away.
"Wait, the laundry, my sheets—"
"You do your own cleaning, remember?"
Her eyes were petulant looking up at him.
"Yeah, but um…I'm not feeling great—"
"Linda said you were fine…can I go?"
Mean.
She wasn't with the shits.
Her mind was on giggling over Zachary.
He walked slowly over to his bed and climbed in balancing the tray. She moved over to help him.
"Thanks," he said.
Her eyes took in the room and when they glanced at his dresser, he made sure the condoms were gone. She went to the hamper in his bathroom.
"There's nothing in here," she said, annoyed.
"I need these sheets changed," he said.
"I'll come back then, or you can have Linda change them for you—"
"Yani, wait a minute."
He lifted up too fast and the tray tilted. He spilled some soup on the covers.
"You did that on purpose," she said.
"No, I didn't."
"What do you want, man?"
He hated the sound of her voice at that moment. She didn't want to be around him.
"I miss you," he said.
"I don't think so."
"I do—"
"You got Linda and whoever else…"
Her eyes drifted toward the dresser.
"And you have Zachary."
Her eyes regarded him with suspicion.
"I heard you on your phone."
"You don't know who I was talking to."
"You're not with him?"
She left the room.
Erik jumped off the bed and ran after her.
"Hold up—"
"I don't have time for your shit—"
He grabbed her hand. She snatched it back.
"Clean up your own fucking mess!"
She stormed out of the house and he let her go.
"Whoa. That was…awkward."
Linda walked into the room, coming in through the back door.
Shit.
"So…um…the help…" she said.
Erik stomped back to his room and slammed the door shut.
###
Chp 22 Here
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nailtea · 4 years ago
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About Me
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Hello and welcome!
My name is Natalie and I’ll be sharing my creative works + other things I find neat on this blog! I hope you enjoy your stay! :)
(click keep reading for more info)
For what reason did you make this blog? This blog is an assignment for my AP Literature class, but I love the concept of this assignment so I’m actually really excited to see what’s in store! What’s the meaning of your username? My username is an anagram of my name, I just thought it was funky lol Besides writing, what other things will you be posting? I’ll also be sharing my art and various hobbies of mine such as needlework and photography! I may also reblog some posts that I find neat
That’s all for now, so see you around! More posts to come soon :)
(also go follow my friends @rtfong​ and @ppsykee​ )
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snowtimeisbesttime · 5 years ago
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Thoughts and questions on Volume 10, routes 1 and 2! ...finally.
-Back in Homestuck both Feferi and Eridan got the short end of the stick screentime-wise, but here, they both got a nice bunch of much-needed Interesting Stuff! It's a shame we're (almost surely) heading back to Earth now, to befriend the heck out of the alpha kids.
~ROUTE 2~
-MC expected the Heiress to be super awful, and then Feferi has literally 2 good endings (whose achievements seem to be reversed route-wise?) and her bad ending you get by actively choosing not to further interact with her. And of course, she's already very much against the Empire, even if she doesn't quite seem to interact with it...
-Maybe I read too many fanfics where all of the beta trolls rebel, but I'm kinda surprised that The Rebellion's still a Vriska & Terezi only thing. Let's hope we get to see if Fef does join up...
-Looks like the whole “Witches living in the middle of nowhere with their extremely powerful guardians” thing is starting to become a trend, huh? In Feferi's specific case her meteor probably fell right in front of Gl'bgolyb (a pretty damn large area, actually), who would’ve then immediately gone “holy shit a sky baby” and adopted her.
-Considering that the Condesce can just come down to Alternia and personally get rid of the Heiress (singular, explicitly), living so far from everything was probably a blessing in disguise. And maybe also NOT being involved with how the planet's run- though we'd have to ask a certain Trizza Hiveswap about that...
-She was planning on waiting thousands of sweeps before challenging the Condesce, though iirc the whole thing with Heiresses challenging HIC was something demanded by their shared lusus... She didn't really bother with future ruling plans in Homestuck because they were going to play SGRUB; though Glubglub also bonded more strongly with Feferi because HIC was too far from Alternia... enough to actively favor her over the Empress?
-We also get even more confirmation that seadwellers are OP: Feferi blows up a huge air bubble (that stays on the ocean floor) for MC not to drown like it's nothing, and she's very likely even stronger than Equius*. Meanwhile, Eridan gets thrown through a party cannon (that was just there on the airship for reasons i guess??) AND has Daraya's mall thrown at him by Sollux, and practically walks it off, though he does say later that it was close. You know who'd be a Great Additional Data Point??? Cridea Jeevik.......
-*However, they would not fight, as they both stan Nepeta. On a more serious note, having Feferi interact on-screen with the other trolls would've been very nice... she's hanging out with Sollux in Eridan's route but We Don't See It... We know she's friends with Kanaya, and she also had a pretty nice interaction with Vriska back on one of the walkaround flashes too,
-On seadwellers in general- neck gills are canon (though if i remember correctly a Very Old Tumblr Post, that'd actually not be the best place to have gills? Idk tho), as we can see in Feferi's route; and then we have Eridan, who we know has spent very little time underwater in his entire life, with his scarf *and* a high neck shirt. (this might just be me but. wouldn't it be super uncomfortable to have clothing touching one's gills??? i guess it would kinda depend on the specific take on gills, biology wise)
-Feferi owns a ~fancy air-producing conch shell~, so that's that for any fan seadwellers that Need to have landdwelling friends over.
-MC theorizes that there might be something that makes adult empresses evil... something external, such as a powerful curse of some sort... which would have to transfer from dead empress to freshly crowned empress somehow... really makes you think...
-Feferi can use one of Glubglub's eyes (?) as a crystal ball from which she can access the Actual Dark Motherfucking Carnival, and get metaphysical advice from there. And the one giving her said advice is our precious clown son Karako, who may or may not have gotten like 10 degrees on weird meta shit since we last saw him- assuming he's the same bapy as last time...
-According to Karako or whomstever is speaking through him, there's a creator above this world's creator, as well as another creator above him, and another one above her, and so on and so forth maybe? Wonder what's this setting up for........
-Feferi can either meditate her way up through layers and layers of meta, so she might access them and interact with them, or choose to change stuff in the Alternia she knows and lives in, small as it may be; both these endings have a lot of potential for cool stuff that I hope we'll get to see. Depending on the choice, MC is either a cheese or a marshmallow.
-In Fef's bad end, MC wonders about the workings and limits of their plot armor; they do give it a good whirl in this entire volume.
-I am incredibly pleased to announce that the ally/eely pun also works in Spanish (aliado/anguilado)
~ROUTE 1~
-We find out that both Vriska and Feferi have dumped Eridan- the first's likely busy being gay and doing revolutions with Terezi, but what happened (besides charming quirks such as charging for listening to him brooding) to make Fef break it off? In Homestuck she broke things off with him as soon as they were in the game and Glubglub didn't have to be fed 413 lusii a minute, but there's no SGRUB in Pesterquest; we see Fef's mom in her route, yet we don't hear anything about Eridan's whole Orphaner Jr thing...
-Regarding his additional lack of friends: it's perfectly understandable that Kanaya would drop him, considering she had to deal with a lot of his bullshit back in the comic, but I thought Karkat was actually friends with Eridan? Before Murderstuck of course, but that's obviously not happened in Pesterquest...
-Eridan's 13 years old (and also in charge of feeding glubglub, let's not forget that), where the hell has he found the time to make a nuisance of himself (to the point where employees in some places are legally allowed to stab him if he bothers them) on like half the actual planet????
-MC's reaction when confronted with a room full of fancy clothing is, of course, Big Hype... And wanting something new for their wardrobe.
-so, are Eridan and Roxy nb wizard solidarity?
-Chances are everybody’s already seen this by now orz but I need it to establish a base: Hussie's made an statement where he explained -amongst other things- Eridan's deal with Shrek, originally from [S] Collide. That post could be summarized as:
1) highblood lusii tend to suck ass because of high expectations and low emotional availability, & seahorsedad wasn't an exception; so when the trolls were looking up human stuff back in the meteor and Eridan found Shrek, he saw him as a Good Lusus Figure.
2) Sollux, however, has a good dad that loves and supports his trans son (as sollux trans confirmed) and is also Kinda Ogre Shaped, and Eridan resents him for that → rivalry
3) (it's also confirmed that the eridan from [s] collide was legitimately so happy to be spending time with his dad shrek that he never realized he was dead)
-So: where did Eridan (more like whoever’s in charge of the cinema actually?) get Shrek 2 from if he's never had any contact with humans in this timeline / reality / canon chunk??? It might be one of the Funky Timeline Changes we made in Aradia's route.
-Also: if Eridan knows Sollux is trans (implied in the post but not confirmed), then the conversation the two have later in the route (and specifically Why Eridan begins that conversation) kiiinda takes a dump on his talk about gender (which otherwise is a very good sign that he's got the potential to be a decent person IF he gets his shit together and also thinks about other things -most obviously the hemospectrum- with the same level of depth and all that).
-MC's had their first taste of their Homestuck memories. Let's see how they get them back this time.
-not to self plug (too much) but one of Eridan's fancy articles of clothing looks a Lot like an outfit that's appeared in Mirrorbent?? (← warning for a bit of blood) The one with the purple and yellow gradient in the rack furthest to the right... the one in mirrorbent is basically Gramma Loreto Rights: The Jacket
-After the rollercoaster of hapenings that is his route, Eridan finally understands that he's got to change himself and unlearn all of Alternia's bullshit if he wants his situation to change for the better. Can't believe it took getting An Actual Mall thrown at him to make him realize that...........
-(That mall is of course the one from Daraya's Friendsim- and she sure felt like a Destruction class back then... 2x hopeprince combo mayhaps?)
-Kanaya said in Sollux's route that it was less than advisable for him to overexert his powers, and the only thing he *doesn't* use here is his psionic blasts- hope he's fine! (then again this is probably our last volume on alternia and blah blah blah)
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