during the school year it’s mostly for events and even if at the beginning it’s kinda weird passing canons and an actual catapult on the way to school or finding soldiers sleeping on the tables in your class, you get used to it
okay, now for the actual story
i was playing
Pokémon go and i noticed that the military area had like five pokéstops so i decided to go there
now, it was locked. this was unusual, but i ignored it and got in through a hole in the fence
now i go to the first pokestop and get everything, everything’s okay
i go around the corner and there are soldiers everywhere
most of the are training
now, i understand i just broke into a military base
during the summer it’s an actual base where they are actually training
i’m about to go but
there’s a jigglypuff
there’s a jigglypuff on a soldier’s shoulder
and i will catch that jigglypuff
i sneak around carefully and catch the jigglypuff
i’ve done it
somone is touching my shoulder
i turn around
IT’S THE FUCKING COMMANDER
i can feel my life flashing before my eyes
i’m going to jail
i’m gonna DIE
he’s glancing at my screen
and he smiles
and then he asks me
‘caught anything good?’
his eyes light up
he took out his phone
and left me
somone came to ascort me out
i’m about to go
he yells ‘wait!’
and he showed me his
and that’s it
i’m still kinda in a shock
i broke into a military base to catch a jigglypuff, the commendar cought me and instead of getting mad he got exited cause he plays pokemon go
Okay 1))) my digital handwriting is BAD
As much as Léo loves his button up shirts he also loves his jackets (and pastels) I feel like he gets jumped a lot for sticking his nose in places where it doesn’t belong (especially when trying to figure out who Conrad is lmao). And the next day when he walks into student council everyone’s like,, “wtf happened to the President,,” “so,, many, bandages,,,???” “OMG WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS EYE” you’d think after Léo showing up like this for a few months it would stop. It hasn’t. He hates it when he has to buy new glasses because his others break :‘c the French says: I’m okay.
Notes: Written for @leiascully ‘s prompt: Balance, though it was initially supposed to be for Oktoberficfest (or Octoberficfest?)
The Stability of Pain
She lay in bed staring at the stark white surface of her
ceiling, lying perfectly still, concentrating on her breathing.
Inhale through the nose, hold it for five seconds, exhale
through the mouth, repeat .
The clock to her right reads 2:36 a.m., though she refuses
to look at it, she doesn’t need to. She
feels each minute as it passes, time ticking by so slowly that it almost feels
as if it’s going in slow motion. For the
first hour she lay there tossing and turning, sending quick glances to her
clock before checking it twice, convinced that the screen had frozen.
It’s agonizing how
slow time passes when you’re lying in wait, yet waiting for nothing. Just for it to pass.
Tonight, her bedroom is quiet, save for her long breaths. Her eyes close tight and she wills herself to
concentrate on the smooth, elongated whoosh of air entering and leaving her
lungs. The same amount of concentration
isn’t needed to be able to hear her daughters breathing that last night she lay
comatose in the hospital bed. All she
has to do is sit quietly for a few moments and the sound of the oxygen nasal
cannulas whistle rings in her ears, her congested breaths wet and haggard.
The rapid rise and fall of her small hospital gown covered chest
plays like a movie on the back of her eyelids when she closes her eyes. The vision, one no mother should ever fall
victim to seeing, is now burned into her brain, branding her soul.
During the day, when the sun is high and she’s clad in her armor
of perfectly tailored suits and precisely applied makeup, it’s these occurrences
that nestle deep between her shoulders blades.
Hidden securely beneath her black blazer, the inconspicuous weight of
the events bear down on her small frame, screaming violently at her as they
threaten to topple her over at any given moment. Even
amidst the loudness of the daytime filled with the endless chatter, the bustle
of cars caught in midday traffic, the endless chirps of cell phones, the
memories are there haunting her like a shadow she can’t seem to shake
It’s the nighttime, however, where her thoughts are accosted
by glimpses of a future that was destined to end before really beginning. The factual being replaced by the
fantasy. The dreams she has for a
miracle child born with an early expiration date, pointless hopes for a
daughter who will never be granted the right to experience them, torment her as
the seconds pass by at a glacial pace.
There was to be no bedtime stories or “Please just read it once
more, mommy,” as the Elmo nightlight cast a comforting glow throughout the
small room before bed. Her tiny body tucked
into the crook of her arm as she pulled her purple covers up to her chin,
promising to go to sleep if Goodnight Moon could be read one last time.
No first day of school excitement as they packed her new
backpack full of school supplies and the Wonder Woman lunchbox she’d insisted
that she absolutely needed. Her new
shoes that are covered in sparkles with the laces double knotted so not to
become loose during a game of ‘tag’ during recess.
There would be no holding her snuggly until she felt her hot
chocolate scented breath puff against her neck, signaling she was finally
asleep, and pressing a kiss to her forehead while silently wishing her sweet
Early Christmas mornings that faintly smell of sugar cookies
and are filled with the delighted squeals of a little girl surrounded by
presents wrapped in reindeer themed paper and red felt bows, or impromptu bubble
baths with toys floating around in the middle of a rainy Saturday were simply not
fated for her.
She turns slowly in bed, burrowing into the faux comfort that
only a heavy duvet and down pillows can provide, squeezing her eyes shut to
shield her brain from the time displayed on the clock. When your alarm clock is set to wake you in
just a few short hours, it’s best not to know that the time spent tossing and
turning is longer than the time you’ll get actually sleeping, she thinks.
With the release of a deep, resigned sigh, her
brain attempts to assure her that the what could have been is far different
than what should have been, that her choice to end the child’s misery was the
right thing to do. It reminds her that the
sharp pain she feels throughout the day balances out the aching that replaces it
at night, both of which she has been destined to carry with her until her end
But her heart betrays her, reminding her nightly that she
had been a mother for a short while. For six days she had been a mom to a little girl who looked exactly like Melissa,
before the long beep alerted her to the lack of a heartbeat and the abrupt ending
of her short journey into motherhood that was never meant to be.