I dreamt that i was sitting on a lawn and i was drawing a unicorn with crayons and then i heard a noise behind me, it was a bit like a laughing sound, and it was the unicorn i just drew. It was about half a metre tall and looked very soft and cute but somehow i was really terrified by it and ran away
Ladies get mad at me for moving my canopy so I'll be in the shade, I pretend I can't understand them.
few years ago, when my wife and I were still dating, we went to one of
my son’s little league baseball games. We knew in advance which
baseball field it would be played in, so we already knew they had no
seating for spectators and no shade, either. I brought lawn chairs and
an EZ-Up (a canvas canopy with four legs).
When the game was about to start, we picked out a spot down the first
base line where we could set up our chairs and the EZ-Up. Several
parents were already there to watch their own kids play. Like us, most
of them brought their own chairs.
I figured I’d start with the EZ-Up, then I’d go back to the car to
get the chairs. Among the parents who were watching the game, there
were two ladies (who I assume were Vietnamese) that were paying
particular attention to me as I put up the EZ-Up. They were about 20
feet away from where I was putting the canopy up, but they kept turning
around and looking at me, talking about what I was doing, and pointing
at me. I got the impression that they had a problem with what I was
doing, but I’d seen people with canopies at the games before, and I’d
set up behind everyone, so I didn’t see what the problem was.
When I’d finished putting up the canopy, I asked my wife (girlfriend
at the time) to stay with the canopy while I went back to the car to get
the chairs. The car wasn’t parked very far away. When I got the
chairs from the car and headed back to the canopy, the two ladies had
gotten up and were moving their chairs to be under the shade of my
This was in the afternoon, so the shade provided by the canopy was
already several feet away from being directly under the canopy. Instead
of being under the canopy, the shade was a few feet to the right of the
canopy, leaving the underneath side of the canopy directly in the sun.
These ladies set their chairs down right in the middle of the shade
of my canopy and were sitting there talking to each other in what I
could only guess was Vietnamese. It might have been Thai or Laotian or
something else, but whatever it was, they were talking to one another
and seemed to be very happy with themselves for beating me to the shade
provided by my own canopy.
I unfolded the chairs beneath the canopy and asked my wife, “How’s that?”
My wife sat down in the chair and said, “Good, but we’re still in the sun.”
“No problem,” I said. There was no one to the left of us, so I
picked up the canopy by one of the legs and dragged it across the ground
to the left until the shade was covering our chairs.
As I did this, the two Asian ladies, looked up and around, like
they’re trying to figure out why their shade was disappearing, as if it
wasn’t completely obvious that I was moving my own canopy so I could sit
under the shade I had intended to provide for myself and my wife.
I’d already been married for nine years to a really shitty person, so
I had a lot of practice in dealing with selfish people who thought of
only themselves. I wasn’t about to sit there and just suffer in the sun
when I’d been the one to bring the canopy for myself and for my wife.
These ladies were mad, though. I don’t know what they were thinking,
but they had the impression that they were entitled to the shade from
my canopy because they had sat down there first.
“You put that back!” One of them said. She had a really thick accent. “You can’t move that!”
“I what now?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it.
“You took the shade. We were sitting here and you took it!” The other one said.
I was in disbelief that the two women would both come to the same
conclusion. I wondered if it was some kind of cultural thing, like
maybe where they were from, it was bad manners to provide something and
then take it away or maybe if they had gotten there first, they thought
they were entitled to it. I didn’t know and didn’t care.
Those two then turned to each other and were squawking back and forth
in whatever language they both spoke. Then, turned back to me.
“You put it back!” One of them said again.
“I what?” I asked. “This is mine. I brought it.”
“No, no,” the other one said, then said something I didn’t understand.
“You put it back!” The first one said again.
The second one said something else I couldn’t understand.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m here to watch the game in the shade. I don’t know what you’re saying.”
The first one said something else again in English. Rather than
argue, I just pretended I couldn’t understand either of them no matter
what they said. Every time they said something, I just answered with,
“Okay, thank you.” This just made them more mad. I got them to speak
louder and slower and to used different words, but I would keep
answering like I had no idea what they were saying.
At one point, one of them was saying, “We sit here! You move shade! You sit there! You move back!”
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I don’t know what you mean. I’m sitting here. This is my chair. I brought it.”
Those two ladies sat there and squawked back and forth, kept pointing
at me, pointing at the canopy, and pointing at the shade the whole
game. As the game wore on, the shade kept moving away from my wife and
me due to the angle of the sun and kept moving toward these two ladies.
I’d wait until the shade was just about to touch them before I’d get up
and move the canopy again.
TL;DR: I put up a canopy for some shade. Two ladies sit under it,
then bitch at me for moving the shade so I’ll be under it instead. I
pretend I can’t understand them when they complain.
Request:@megabooklover18 - Then could I request the democratic republicansx reader where one of them accidentally punched the reader and then they panic and go into mother hen mode?
Warning: fuck boys
Word Count: 1,688
You and the boys were sprawled out on the lawn of the courtyard relaxing after class. This week, all of your schedules were filled with free periods due to the three day long talent show of sorts that your school put on every year before break. All of these free periods meant more time with your boys, which you greatly appreciated. Everyone was grateful for the easy week, with a few exceptions.
Hamilton and his group of boys had too much time on their hands and had started going around picking petty fights for the pure purpose of starting petty shit. You felt your imminent doom approaching, because you knew there was no way in hell they were going to pass you guys by.
It was stupid that they had it out for your boys, given that Aaron tuned them out, Thomas never responded to anything they said about him or any of his friends, and James was, well, James, and tried to please everyone. Even without being provoked, the self-titled Hamilsquad found a way to get on everyone’s nerves. And by everyone’s, you meant yours. It seemed like they were always messaging or indirecting your boys and it was very, very annoying.
James jolted you from your thoughts suddenly as he went into a coughing fit. You moved your head off of his chest and helped Thomas sit him up.
“Aaron, I have water in my bag, and you get for me, please?” You asked, keeping an arm around James.
Aaron nodded and started digging through your bag. “How on earth do you ever find anything in here?”
“I never have any problems,” you shrugged. “Hurry up or give it here.”
Aaron dug around for another minute before he found the water bottle. When he tossed it to you, he missed by a considerable about and hit Thomas, who was completely focused on James and not paying attention to anything else.
“Fuck- what the hell?” Thomas yelped.
James’ eyes widened. “Language!”
Aaron snickered, earning a glare from Thomas. He only blew a kiss in Thomas’s direction and laid back down. You reached over for the water bottle to hand to James as Thomas kept glaring at Aaron.
“You’re the one who swore, babe. Get over it,” you scolded, not taking your eyes off of James as he sipped the water. “My fuck boy senses are tingling.”
Sure enough, you heard a rowdy conversation getting louder and louder as the Hamilsquad approached your group. Your three boys moved closer to you, already getting defensive. They could get endless amounts of shit themselves without snapping, but Lord help anyone who tried giving any to you. You took the bottle from James and slowly screwed the lid back on. The only time you really felt small was when this group was around. You didn’t know why they bothered you so much since you put up with the same kind of shit on a daily basis from a lot of other people. Maybe it was because you could practically cut the sexual tension between the two groups with a knife. You were nothing special. What was keeping your three with you? They might have been assholes, but the Hamilsquad was very attractive. And smart. And creative. And-
“Can we help you?” Thomas asked almost wearily. James wrapped his arm around your waist and you felt eyes on you, but you refused to look up to meet them.
Alexander faked offense. “Are we not allowed to just stop and say hello?”
“No,” Aaron sat up to stare Alex down. “What do you want?”
“We were just wondering if we could borrow your little slut,” you heard the smirk in Hercules’ voice and felt James’ arm tighten.
“Excuse me?” Thomas growled.
“You’re excused,” Hercules replied. He waited for the snickering from the rest of the group to die down. “But you didn’t answer my question. Can we borrow your slut?”
Thomas snarled and sprang up from the ground. “Call her that one more time. I dare you.”
“Thomas, please. It’s fine. Just s-”
“No one asked you, whore,” Lafayette interrupted you.
That was it. Thomas swung for the French kid and Aaron got up to go after Hercules, who was twice his size. Nothing but a gross sob came from your throat when you tried to speak. James pulled your head to his chest gently, shushing you and pressing kisses into your hair. Because it was so late in the afternoon, the courtyard was empty and teachers had gone home, which meant there wasn’t going to be any help. Thomas and Aaron knew how much you hated fighting, so why did they start it?
“The skank won’t even stand up for herself. I guess she really does need three guys,” Hercules grunted. James winced and you knew someone was hurt.
“J-,” you cleared your throat and tried again. “James, I need- I need to do something-”
“I’m not letting you get in the middle of that, my love,” he kissed your temple, trying to keep you from looking over at the brawl.
You sat for a minute until you couldn’t stand listening to it anymore. You forced yourself out of James’ arms and stood. You started over to them but froze in your tracks. Why did seeing the boys did it look so horrible but feel so- right? You tried to force yourself closer. You disapproved of this shit wholeheartedly, but with these kids-
“Damn,” you whispered. You finally moved when Alexander and Laurens each grabbed one of Thomas’s arms, making it far easier for Lafayette to hit him. There was no way that you were going to get anywhere with Hamilton and Laurens. You lunged in between Lafayette and Thomas just as Aaron got away from Hercules to take a swing at was supposed to be Lafayette, but was, instead, you. You crumpled to the ground and everyone froze.
“Is she-?” John looked between you and Aaron. No one saw James make his way over.
“Leave,” his voice was more menacing than anyone had ever imagined it could be. “Don’t ever even look at her again. I can make your lives a living hell, and after this, I won’t hesitate. Go. Now.”
They believed him completely, even without specifics. Hercules and Lafayette were already gone, followed by the other two shortly after. Once they were gone, your boys fell to the ground around you.
“Shit,” Aaron winced when he saw the already huge bruise forming on your jaw.
“‘Shit’ indeed,” James nodded. “She might be concussed. Why were you going to hit anyone that hard?”
“They’re assholes who deserve it,” Thomas answered for Aaron. Other than broken glasses and a bruise to match yours, everything you could see of
Thomas was fine.
“Shh,” you whispered. “Shh.”
You didn’t open your eyes and reached your arms out a little. Someone sat you up against their stomach slowly. Everyone sat silently for a minute before they erupted into chatter that you couldn’t follow. Suddenly there were cold hands touching your face, which you were not overly fond of.
“What-” you jerked your head away when they tried to open your eyes.
“Can you cooperate, please,” came Thomas’s voice from above you. “We’re just trying to make sure that you’re okay.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” you insisted.
“Then prove it,” Aaron said from beside you.
You opened your eyes slowly and leaned over to kiss him deeply. “I’m fine.”
“That really doesn’t prove anything,” Thomas grumbled. “We should probably take you to the hospital or something.”
You kissed Aaron again quickly before you settled back into Thomas’s lap. “I’m really okay. I promise.”
“Thomas is right,” James said. He was very noticeably watching your face closely.
“Guys, it was just a punch. I’ll live,” you closed your eyes. “Can someone take me home? I’m tired. My parents are out of town so you can hang out if you want.”
The boys started chatter you couldn’t keep up with again. Maybe you did have a concussion. You shrugged a little to yourself. How bad could it be? You just wanted to go to bed and forget about this afternoon and if you went to the hospital, it would turn into an even bigger deal than it already was.
“Boys ruin everything,” you mumbled. You didn’t even realize you had said it outloud until the boys went silent. “No, no. You guys are good. Continue.”
Thomas kissed the top of your head. “Let’s just take her home.”
Aaron stood and picked you up out of Thomas’s lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist. You didn’t usually like being carried because it made you feel small, but this felt more comforting than anything. James and Thomas followed Aaron to his car.
You all lived in the same neighborhood, so you carpooled every day. This meant all of them were probably coming over. You didn’t mind so long as they let you sleep. You were really fucking tired. Somewhere along the way home you dozed off.
When you woke up, you and all three of the boys were crammed onto the couch. C-SPAN was on and they were watching so intently that they didn’t notice you. You sat still for a minute before you decided that your hands were cold and needed to be warmed up. You smirked and slipped your hands under Thomas’s shirt, know that he hated the cold the most.
“Holy shit!” he squealed.
“Language,” James said before Thomas even finished talking. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m still fine,” you shrugged.
Aaron rolled his eyes. “That still sounds fake.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, babe,” you snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Mm, it was pretty bad,” Thomas pulled your hands away from his stomach. You glared at him when he opened his mouth to add something. No one else even tried saying anything else. You stuck your hands back under Thomas’s shirt and curled up so that you could slid your feet under Aaron’s shirt. Much to your disappointment, he didn’t even flinch. You sat there pouting until the calming boringness of C-SPAN lulled you back to sleep.
deep breath–in and out
held onto the visage until teeth started falling
cramped my heart into a sugar bowl
to sweeten up the serenade but grenades started rolling
couldn’t see the centrifuges, couldn’t rid my lungs of apoptosis
breathing didn’t help although honestly i wish it would
kept strolling back to track three
somehow the way i am i relate to songs of doom and confusion
songs of doom and confusion fill my veins
my capillaries overflow with them
it’s messy and disgusting but it is what it is
i flew an empty bottle down the lawn
had about thirteen more
puked, barfed, spewed chunks, you know the deal
my toilet was remodeled that very night
no blood, though, so thank god
songs of doom and confusion fill my veins
my capillaries overflow with them
it’s messy and disgusting but hey it is what it is
i hate that moment, when the album ends. you know it has to, you know it needs to, but i still hate it. when the album ends.
I think the problem with my Thingol opinion is that it is the popular one. He’s kinda like that one crotchety old neighbour that gets mad about the leaves on his lawn and you having some friends over and maybe you stayed up a little late, only instead of too loud music, he’s annoyed about the time you murdered all his relatives so you could jack their car, oops.
I think maybe the reason Thingol tends not to be too popular is we like characters that do things. Feanor and Fingolfin, Beren and Luthien, even (god help us) Melkor and Sauron, are all characters who want things super badly and act to get them, characters that challenge authority and the rules of the world.
Thingol IS that authority and what he wants is to maintain the status quo. He doesn’t want to interact with the Noldor, he doesn’t want to wage a futile war, he doesn’t want his daughter to run off and catch mortality, he doesn’t want Turin or Nienor to leave Doriath. Fearing and resisting change is an intensely elven quality to have, and his PoV is pretty understandable for the most part because most of those decisions are bad, but it makes him a big ol’ roadblock in our faves’ paths to adventure and uuuuugh I wanna see Luthien punch a vampire in the face and wear her skin, fuck ooooff Thingol.
I don’t have unpopular Celebrimbor opinions, protect him.
A modern au Sera would be college campus legend for her dorm pranks like the chancellor’s office furniture? Now perfectly arranged on the lawn. Instead of the time, the clock tower bells now play the chorus of Born This Way at noon Never Gonna Give You Up at midnight. All the chairs at the fancy-schmancy-uppity college donor gala would be missing a few screws. Someone would end up on an air mattress out in the pond.
This is quite robinsonesque... sitting at no-spoiler-island, waiting for Friday... YOU! YES YOU ALL PLAYING ME:A ALREADY, GET OFF MA LAWN! Also have a whole lot of fun, enjoy the excitement of the first hours / days :D
there is a certain school of writing that believes that if 75% of your audience can’t follow your narrative, you are Clever and Deep.
if I could, I would kill this notion with fire. if there is a running narrative in my head of “what the fuck is going on? who the fuck are these people? who’s TALKING? where are we? when are we? What the EVER LOVING FUCK am I reading / watching? plot? is there a plot somewhere in this disjointed mess?” then you are failing utterly at your job. unless your aim was to irritate me, in which case congrats.
every time I read or watch something produced by this school of thought, I get even grumpier because I know the content creator is congratulating themselves like a smug motherfucker over losing most of their audience, and I want to beat them with a shovel.