by from It's Sweet and Fashion
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Tropical – Laquerista Challenge – Week 18
Tropical – Laquerista Challenge – Week 18
Think of warm weather and beautiful scenery this week!
Tropical doesn't have to be all palm trees and beaches though. Rainforests, animals, fruits, and more are all fair game!
Post your completed pictures in this thread to share the love. Whether you go simple or extravagant, we’d love to see your art! Please remember to be kind with compliments and offer constructive criticism if it’s encouraging.
You can also join us on Instagram using the tag #LaqueristaChallenge and follow @laqueristachallenge. Your tagged nails could be featured – with credit of course! Guidelines and full list of challenges can be found here.
Week 17 - Dry Marble | Week 19 - Paint Drips
Submitted August 01, 2018 at 07:45AM by ZeteticNoodle https://ift.tt/2AwFaUA
My first try ever at drawing fanart.
Here is my try at Moss Knight:
https://imgur.com/OtbIvjv
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 10:16PM by shaafli https://ift.tt/2vmvrtZ
Nail Art IDEAS for 2018 BEST NAIL ARTS COMPILATION
https://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=u62E1gJa9IM&u=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DwPPIWKoQZNw%26feature%3Dshare
Submitted August 01, 2018 at 04:28AM by defrostfun https://ift.tt/2LTxuQK
Submitted August 01, 2018 at 04:28AM by defrostfun https://ift.tt/2LTxuQK
The Best Unicorn Nail Art Design Ideas & Tutorials
https://ift.tt/2Kg7hH1
Submitted August 01, 2018 at 01:59AM by stylishbelles https://ift.tt/2LPiG5t
Submitted August 01, 2018 at 01:59AM by stylishbelles https://ift.tt/2LPiG5t
Category idea: Combined Powers
Hello.
I'd like to start this off with: this is just an idea which I've thought a bit about, something that could feel balanced enough to be in the game (by 'balanced' I mean something not too weak or too strong for Dokkan to add), while also fun and to provide more usefulness in units. So, first, the actual category idea:
Combined Powers
The units that make it in this category are units with either:
· 2 individuals or more in the Super Attack animation
· 2 individuals or more in the card art (that are together, not against eachother or 'not there physically': e.g: LR Bardock, LR Trunks)
· Somebody who gained power through 1 or more people, e.g: Spirit Bomb Goku(s), SSJ4 Ultra Full Power Goku
· Fusions don't count for obvious reasons.
With that explained, here's the list of units that would make it in:
LR Units
· LR Super Saiyan Rosé Goku Black and Zamasu
· LR Ginyu
· LR Gohan
Holy fucking shit. As you see, the category has a TON of LRs. A mix between F2P and Summonable. Either way, this is probably the category with the most LRs I could think of (maybe there's one with more, not actually sure, but I doubt it). Regardless, going to move on to the actual TURs.
· Buucolo
· Buuhan
· Buff Buu
· Super 17
· Piccolo (after he fused with either nail or Kami, but the LR is still in)
That's the list of ALL TURs that I deemed acceptable for the category. I won't bother doing SSRs and SRs, Rs...etc. Either way, gonna go ahead with the 2 lead cards: I'll be doing an SSR - TUR card, and an SSR - TUR - LR card.
[Great Partners]
Piccolo & Ultimate Gohan / TUR / 58 / S.INT
"Combined Powers" Category Ki +3 HP, ATK and DEF +150%
Super ATK: Kamehameha & Special Beam Cannon
Greatly Raises DEF, Causes immense damage to the enemy and all allies' ATK +20% for 2 turns
To explain how it works: they give the SA multiplier to everyone, including those units off rotation - and the units that show up next rotation will have the +20% boost on their SA multiplier (or base ATK for normals/counters, the way it works is the same just lasts more).
Passive Skill: Strategist of Universe 7
ATK +30% when attacked (only once per turn); ATK +70% when performing a Super Attack; medium chance to dodge an attack (including enemy Super Attack); high chance to counter enemy Energy Super Attack with enormous power
To explain how it works: every turn they can gain +30% ATK (just how dyspo does it), except they have to get attacked for it. It goes 30 -> 60 -> 90, etc. It's only once a turn.
Links
[Tournament of Power] - [Shocking Speed] - [Prepared for Battle] - [Experienced Fighters] - [Z-Fighters] - [Kamehameha] - [Fierce Battle]
Stats
HP: 10273
ATK: 11028
DEF: 4927
Ki Multiplier of 150%
[Trust Beyond Imagination]
Super Saiyan Goku & Frieza (Final Form) / LR / 77 / S.AGL
"Combined Powers" Category Ki +3, HP and ATK +170%; DEF +130% or; Universal Survival Saga Ki +3, HP ATK and DEF +120%
Super ATK (12): Universe 7 Attack!
Causes colossal damage to the enemy, all allies' ATK +15% for 3 turns
Super ATK (18): Universe 7 Combo!
Causes mega-colossal damage to the enemy, raises ATK for 1 turn and lowers DEF for 1 turn
Passive Skill: Old Enemies
ATK +120% when Performing a Super Attack; After 3 turns, Ki +3; After 5 turns; ATK and DEF +50% at the start of the turn; After 7 turns; Ki +7
To explain how it works: After 7 turns, they gain +10 Ki at the start of the turn
Links
[Super Saiyan] - [Shocking Speed] - [Prepared for Battle] - [Tournament of Power] - [Experienced Fighters] - [Fierce Battle] - [Legendary Power]
Stats
HP: 16352
ATK: 14450
DEF: 9938
12 Ki Multiplier: 140%
24 Ki Mulitiplier: 200%
Dunno if anyone is gonna make it here, but this took me a few hours to write. If anyone sees it, then many thanks for checking out my idea - something else: if somebody already did the idea and I didn't know, I'm genuinally sorry and will try to be more original next time.
Submitted August 01, 2018 at 02:56AM by Vedenlol https://ift.tt/2NXbEJs
Any online support groups or chat groups?
Hi everyone!
So I'm wondering if there are any group chats or online support groups for the raised by narcissists community?
I'm trying to make friends in my current city but it is hard when you have so many issues. I prefer to be alone most of the time which isn't very healthy. So I'm hoping to maybe even start a WhatsApp or Discord group for some of us to talk about normal life things, support each other when things are tough, and just in general to help rebuild trust and communication skills.
I am a 23 F in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. I enjoy a range of things from baking, painting, fitness, nature, and nail art. I'm not feeling very confident in any personal projects lately and I'm hoping this might help with that.
Thanks for reading!😁🐙
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 11:04PM by short2314 https://ift.tt/2OyvvzR
Rich old trombone player
So this is a story that not only affected me but it affected my whole high school theatre arts department. Back about 6 years ago I was a junior in high school. I was very active in my drama club and me and a bunch of my friends would be apart of the shows that were performed at my school. Insert old creepy trombone player. Lets call him Steve. Steve was an old man who played Trombone in our schools pit. He had been playing in it for the last few years before I was even in high school. Apparently he was very good as he toured across the country and played in many national tours and such. But the reason they kept Steve around is because of how much money he put into our Theatre program. He would constantly be donating money into our funds in order to make our production value incredible. Our production of Little Shop of Horrors was amazing because we were able to pay for a plant that looked so realistic instead of a crappy one. He was a bit of a dick, but I guess when you have money that doesn't matter.
Here's where it gets sort of creepy:
Steve would award two students a "scholarship" of $100 if they were his favorite actor in the show that year and would take them out for lunch. Its not terrible. The money part is nice, taking them out is a bit creepy though. Thankfully our director would accompany who ever got this scholarship so it wasn't bad. As the years went on, Steve would appear more in my high school and become closer with some of my friends. 2 of them he grew a high attraction to and almost sort of took them under his wing. He would give one of my friends many expensive instruments that were his and the other he would pay for him to go to a singing camp/class. Again not totally bad.
Now it gets a bit creepier:
One day Steve tells both of my friends, that they've one a trip with him to see the Broadway musical Cinderella with him and two of his other friends. Now here's this guy who's 76 with two of his other older friends asking two boys who are 16 to go out on a trip. The thought is nice but its pretty ridiculous. Luckily there was an extra ticket that one of my friends mothers went on the trip. Steve and his friends apparently weren't very happy with that. Also should mention that he rented a full stretch limo for all of them.
This is where shit gets super creepy:
Steve starts coming to my high school more regularly now. Usually he would only come during rehearsals for the musicals for the sole reason of playing in the pit. Kids started to kiss his ass and even the theatre faculty because he had all this money that he was giving. But still, heres this old man coming into our high school during school hours and sometimes after just sitting in our theatre watching us rehearse or act. It was almost like he was salivating at seeing us young kids. Then one day he starts asking favors from us and asks a kid to give him a full back rub for money. He does it obviously for the money and Steve is basically orgasmic to this. People begin to get very creeped out at this and a lot of eyebrows are being raised at this guy. The final nail in the coffin was when Steve tried to give me a brand new guitar. He has also just given me the scholarship and I knew I was eventually going to have to go out with him. However my dad intercepted the bass and started to question who this was coming from. He, an undercover detective, felt that this was very fishy, as he had heard some stories of this man but didn't know the full extent. He reported it to the school to investigate this man.
GUESS WHAT!
It turns out that this guy was a straight up PEDOPHILE. When doing further research on this guy online. This guy was a registered sex offender and was found guilty of sexual abuse all the way back in 1974! AND in 2005 he was arrested for doing the SAME THING to another young boy! I can post the article but it compromises the mans name. So if the mods want me to source it I'll absolutely source it in an edit.
But that's my story! Shortly after he ceased contact from me and my friends. He actually wrote one of them a really nasty letter for outing him and told him to rot in hell. We assume now he's dead. But Steve lets never meet again.
TL;DR: Old rich trombone player donated money to my schools theater program and gave gifts and money to younger kids. Asked for people to give him back-rubs and it wasn't until after all this we found out he was a pedophile.
SIDE NOTE: One time I almost accidentally killed Steve. He would walk with a cane and was very slow to move. One day he was pushing a door open and I saw him struggling and felt bad so I went to hold the door open for him. As soon as I grabbed it he nearly almost fell down since he was holding the door for support. He quickly gained his balance, looked at me very angry and said "YOU COULD'VE KILLED ME!"
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 08:46PM by strombolibasedgod https://ift.tt/2At8LOt
Happy National avocado day!! Freehand nail art.
https://ift.tt/2AtmWDh
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 09:00PM by Annette1919 https://ift.tt/2Ow3CZ9
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 09:00PM by Annette1919 https://ift.tt/2Ow3CZ9
[xpost from R/Nails] Minimalist Black and Yellow Nail Art we did on a Trade! Bartering FTW
https://ift.tt/2vpH4R5
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 09:18PM by preachermanmedic https://ift.tt/2LHF2qc
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 09:18PM by preachermanmedic https://ift.tt/2LHF2qc
Support your favorite thread today by proudly displaying the finest art on your body!
https://ift.tt/2LCbZEF
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 07:23PM by MangoCandy https://ift.tt/2vmWju6
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 07:23PM by MangoCandy https://ift.tt/2vmWju6
The search for a cure
I was a fabulously wealthy man, with enough money to live an extravagant and lavish life many times over. I had many close friends, a beautiful wife and two wonderful children who adored me, and many beautiful homes around the world that I divided my time between.
However, my whole life, I suffered with a problem.
From birth I was stricken with unstoppable diarrhoea. Like lightning, the Tijuana cha-cha would appear loudly, explosively and without warning, leaving me ashamed and hobbling quickly to the nearest public facilities, This thunder-down-under would leave me shaking at the knees with the sheer force of the flow, an unexpected mudslide in an otherwise perfect day.
As a baby it was less of a problem, as that’s all babies are really expected to do, after all. But as I grew older and continued to fire liquid shit out of my rear end, I became more and more shy, and embarrassed at my continuous production of poop smoothies. I met a beautiful girl, who became my beautiful wife, not caring that I was so afflicted. My friends too, took no notice of my ass vomit, looking past it and seeing the man inside, rather than just what was inside the man. But despite the support of those close to me, I could never feel truly normal, always a step apart from other people, and usually a step closer to the bathroom at that.
I spent many thousands of dollars jetting round the globe, consulting the leading doctors and scientists of the age to get to the bottom of the problem with my bottom, but with no success. I met with Yogis in India, proctologists in Switzerland, and diagnosticians in America. I paid a leading biologist a million dollars to abandon a project he was working on and see if he could find a way to stall my stool, with no luck. I was seen by immunologists, bacteriologists and even homeopathic healers, none of whom could find an answer to my problem. I went to Peru, Australia, Mozambique, Guatemala and even the Sahara desert, chasing leads and desperately trying to find a way to rid myself of my southern slip ’n’ slide. I became more and more obsessed with curing myself, slowly driving away my family and friends, and offering greater and greater rewards for a cure, a ceasefire, even a temporary halt to the pyroclastic movement of my bowel movements.
After many years of searching, and finding no answers, I finally gave up hope in a small village in Tibet, where I had met with the local wise-man, to no avail. I fell to my knees, my whole body heaving with wracking sobs, clawing at the dusty ground with my unkempt nails.
‘You okay, friend?’, came a voice from above me, in a strong Texan accent. I raised my tear-streaked face, and saw a older white man standing in front of me, his hands in the pockets of his beaten denim jacket. He had a long grey beard, and a shock of wild grey hair, framing kind eyes and a sympathetic smile. He picked me up off the ground, dusted me down, and led me over to a nearby wooden bench. I told him my story, of my fabulous wealth, my wonderful life, and the unending chocolate rain that nearly driven me insane and flushed my relationships down the drain. All the while, he stroked his beard, watching me thoughtfully.
“I would give everything I possess, every bent penny, just to have it stop” I finally wailed, bursting into tears once more. He was quiet for a moment, then, taking my hand, he stood from the bench and walked down the road with me. As we walked, he shared his life story in turn. He had been a prominent and lauded scientist, born in Texas and showered with awards and prizes his entire life. After many years of being invited to countless balls and ceremonies, he grew tired of all the attention, feeling that it was getting in the way of the real science. He’d relocated to this small village in Tibet, where he’d built a state of the art laboratory to do his research without interruption or distraction. As he finished relating his story, we arrived at a large building, not quite in keeping with the of the houses that surrounded it, but still beautiful and warm from the outside.
He invited me in, and in amazement I took in his lab, with it’s gleaming machinery and equipment, and great bookshelves stuffed with journals and scientific tomes lining every wall. He sat me down on a chair by a vast microscope, and pulling up my sleeve, took a small skin sample, and put it under the lens of the scope. He studied the sample for a long while, hmm-ing and ahhh-ing, before sitting back with a triumphant smile across his kindly face.
Then he gave me my answer and synthesised a cure, and true to my word, I gave him everything I possessed, every bent penny, losing everything, but gaining the only thing that I felt truly mattered.
“Aha”, he said, “ just as I thought. I’m surprised none of those great doctors you consulted before thought of this.”
“See, diarrhoea is hereditary. It runs in your genes”.
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 12:38PM by WoodrowDontHaveAnOar https://ift.tt/2ApVLZZ
Nail Stamping How to Tutorial Easy Nail Art
Stamping Polish: Nicole Diary - White and Funky Fingers - Dark Knight
Stamping Plates: Konad m73
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 12:41PM by Gr8Nails https://ift.tt/2LGwtvO
What is wrong with me?
I am a m(15) and I struggle with thoughts of suicide and homicide. I don’t know if this is the correct subreddit to post this in as this is my first post ever on reddit. I’m going to give you guys some background and I just want to put my story out there to people who want to hear it. First here is some extra information, I come from a below poverty household, living of government programs and selling pills, ever since I was 9 or 8 until I was 11 my sister (3y older than me) raped me/we engaged in incest and I have a lot of regret/guilt about this, my father has bipolar and has been in jail since I was 17 months old, and my grandfather passed when I was 8 and I haven’t really ever had a male parent, and my great-grandmother whom I was very close to and loved dearly has Alzheimer’s and has gotten much worse over the past couple years; she doesn’t remember who I am anymore. I’ve struggled with what I guess is depression off and on since I was about ten, anytime a major change would happen it would always be there. When I was ten I spent the summer at my uncle’s in Florida, I really enjoyed it there but my family guilt tripped me into coming back home (in South Carolina). When I came back home everyone seemed to act differently, this was probably my mind tricking me though. It seemed like they didn’t see me as their family anymore. I was stuck in the mindset I was the least favorite child/sibling, I still think this and it hurts me so much. My brother is probably on the autism spectrum, my mother has tried for years to get him diagnosed but has found no doctors that take the time. So during this period I didn’t really enjoy everyday things anymore, I never really spoke to my friends out of school and was always severely bored. I don’t really know how I got out of this but it was around my 11th birthday when I smoked weed for the first time. I was always a bad kid in school and I got suspended every other week in elementary school, this was further pushed by my rural small town I live in, once you do something in school every student and teacher knows and you get a reputation that you can’t break. My brother and sister have mood disorders and are very anti-social and because of our school their crazy reputation attached itself to me. They both get bullied severely and have very little friends, so I had to fight their rep to change mine. So I became the bad kid class clown who was outgoing, but also a bully. I picked on the less popular kids and made fun of my own siblings. I made friends who didn’t fit my real personality and didn’t know me for me. I became really close to one friend and he was the second person whose house I went to outside of family. Me and him got so close we were like brothers. And then one day in sixth grade a new kid showed up (he was white like me and my friend, we all went to a mostly black school, this is important as it’s very hard for whites to make friends as most of the kids think we are all racist and hate us) so my friend starts talking to him and they become friends. Fast forward a bit and it’s my friend’s brother’s birthday party, the not so new kid is here (from now on he will be referred to as B and my friend will be A) as an insomniac when the party was over, me and B were staying the night, I couldn’t sleep and me and B got to know each other over an all nighter and video games. The next morning B invites me and A to his sister’s (N) birthday party in a couple months. Fast forward again and me and A go to the party, N is a little under a year younger than me, A, and B. Me and A didn’t really ever have relationships, me more so than A, so made jokes about dating (and doing stuff as birthday gifts with N), but both of our eyes were actually on her sister (C), she was slightly younger than N but since N was adopted they weren’t even nine months apart, she is 14 months younger than me. As an unconfident self conscious kid I let A begin to date C. Every weekend after the birthday party me and A went to see C, until one weekend when I couldn’t make it. So the next week on the bus to and from school C and B kept inviting me for the weekend, so on Friday I ride the bus home with them and stay the weekend at their house. A was not able to come this weekend so I didn’t have C’s boyfriend to stop me, sadly C left to go to her grandma’s and I spent the day with N and B. Then that night everyone went to bed (my memory is kinda bad but for some reason my sister was there with me and B had a crush on her) I would’ve gone to bed in B’s room but him and my sister went there together, and I went to N’s room, me and N cuddled and laid there when B walked into the room to ask me if he could kiss my sister I said I didn’t care and went to sleep next to N. The next morning C came home and was acting weird, I’m very good at reading body language and guessed she was jealous of N and mad at me, I was right but she was A’s girl and I couldn’t do that to him. So I had a dilemma in my mind, date N and settle for the less pretty sister or steal C from A. Later that night I was talking to C and she told me she had broken up with A before and so I was like well then there’s nothing wrong with us and slept in her bed that night (still a dick move but I was young). I get home and tell myself to keep what happened that weekend a secret. The next day I go to school and sit down in the back of the class next to A. “Hey I heard you went to B’s house.” I tried to keep it to myself couldn’t help but to tell him as I was happy about myself and felt so lucky. So I told him I slept with C and described in detail the cuddling we did. A got mad but I told him since they broke up it shouldn’t matter but he showed me the break up text and it was from Sunday morning, after that night. He was so mad at me he told some other people and the rumor was that I had sex with A’s girl and that C was a hoe, and small town rumors spread fast, really fast. Later that day C’s mom is pissed at me, A hates me and C doesn’t want to talk to me. My mom heard and yelled at me for being so stupid, she said cps would come get me. The thought of everyone being so mad at me destroyed me, I didn’t leave the bathroom that night and slept on the floor. For a couple weeks A didn’t want to be friends and C pretended I didn’t exist. B still talked to me but his mom didn’t want him to. After awhile me and A grew closer and him and B grew further. Apparently him and C started dating again and had this on and off again relationship for awhile. Eventually B, C, and N moved and didn’t have a way or a want to talk to me. from the day when the rumors started until a year later I was filled with self hatred and sadness, this was my first experience with what could be considered self harm, I would fill the bathtub up with ice water and force myself to stay in it. Several times I attempted to drown myself in the same bathtub but always jerked out of the water. This went on for a very long time, until I was about twelve, I started spending more time with A and tried weed again. I could never get C out of my head though. Fast forward again, on August 29th 2017 my brother was hit by a truck going about 40mph while he was walking. I was in my mom’s room watching tv with her when my sister ran in and yelled he was hurt, our neighbor was with her attempting to cheer her up and started talking to my mom. We ran to the road to see my brother laying there in shock, trying to breathe with a collapsed lung, having a seizure and with a broken femur that was so bad his leg was bent. When we got there the driver was crying and the passenger was on the phone with 911, my mother got on her knees in the road next to him and kept telling him it’ll be ok while crying. My grandma was in the house but we didn’t want to tell her until my brother was on his way to the hospital. My mother called her friends and family and told them before telling her mother, she got a ride to the hospital set up and an ambulance came and they put my brother on a stretcher and drove him to a main highway where a helicopter flew him to the Columbia hospital, we told my grandma and we all ended up at the hospital with my grandma’s sisters and so much family, we slept in the hospital waiting room that night. My brother was in a coma for over a month. Before he was injured me, him and our sister were going to see our dad for the first time I could remember. My dad’s sisters were going to fly from Arizona and go see him with us (my mom really didn’t want to see him as he is in prison for helping murder her brother). I felt so bad as my dad was excited to see us that I couldn’t not go, and I think my sister decided to go to just because of me. Me and my sister went and got state ID’s so we could go. And on the day where I met my dad I sat down with him and played monopoly, we took pictures, and hugged each other. It was kind of lackluster but I don’t know what I was expecting. Me, my mom and my sister we’re all staying at the Ronald McDonald House when my aunts said they would take my sister to Arizona with them (she was very stressed and couldn’t take it anymore). I was upset because I was supposed to go to Arizona before all of this happened and felt that my mom let my sister go because she would rather give her what she wants. So I stayed with my mom at the Ronald McDonald House until my aunt payed for a plane ticket for me and I flew for the first time, to Arizona. When I landed my aunt I had just met a few months prior was waiting for me, and my sister and cousin I had met when I met her mom were at the luggage area. I was very nervous as I don’t know what to say to people I don’t know and car rides make me silent. My other cousin had really wanted to meet me for awhile so we stopped at my other aunts house for me to see him, and for my sister to get her clothes (she was bounced between our aunts’ houses) we knocked on the door and my other cousin answered it, she remembered me but I didn’t remember her, I was three the last time I saw her. (To make things less confusing I’ll refer to the aunt I lived with as H the other aunt as J my male cousin my age as D the daughter of H as F D’s sister as G F’s oldest brother as K her other brother as L and their dad as M) Fast forward some, I really love it in Arizona, I get to know my cousins and aunts and uncle. Me and F become like brother and sister, and me and D become even closer. I start school again later in October, around the 20th. After missing so much school I really don’t like it (I have never liked school though). I don’t have any friends and don’t know anybody. This upsets me as I’m very social but too anxious to meet new people. So I follow my cousins around during breakfast and lunch, I had a class with D so I’m at least one of my classes I had a friend. During breakfast at first I would stand alone under the stairs. In gym class there was some boys who acted like the kids from my old school so I knew how to act around them. And after fifth period I would walk with G to get lunch and then eat with her and sit with her friends, later in the year though I spent more time with F, I would stay with her during breakfast and lunch and started staying with her friends. I got to know her friends they were nice and seemed like good people. Every day I would wake up go to school, follow F to her favorite teacher’s room and hangout with her teacher’s assistant friends. Then go to class and suffer through the boring day until lunch where I would spend more time with F and her other friends. And the suffer again until art class last period with D. Then I would go home and stay in my room and fuel my screen addiction. This got so repetitive and boring but every weekend I would go to D’s house and have laughs and deep conversations. D told me about his struggles with depression and his past suicide attempts, he showed me the cuts he had on his arms. He showed me the real him, the one he hid from the world. Then one day he told me about this girl (E). D liked E he told me and F this, so me and F made it our mission to find out who she was. She had a class with D, the same class as F and my friend, so we asked him who E was. Turns out E was gorgeous and friends with F and my friend’s girlfriend. I saw E from across the school yard sometimes at lunch. Then F stopped coming to lunch with our friends, she spent more time with the other teacher’s assistants and the teachers. When F left our friend’s girlfriend started coming over, and with her E. At first I was quite, I never talk much and didn’t know everyone that well, E later told me she was scared of me at first. One day E gave me a hug, it was unexpected but not unwelcomed. She would usually hug her friend but that day said I was closer, she said it was cold and wanted a hug to warm her up, that hug lasted at least ten minutes. After that day everyday we would hug, and they lasted for almost all lunch period. My friends would say we should date but E would always say no, I would always hope she would say yes. Some drama started between E and her friend and her friend stopped wanting her in the group. E would come over and everyone would move with her friend, so it was just me and E stuck in an embrace. One day I asked D for E’s Snapchat and ever since then me and her have texted just about every day. E’s ex-friend had to take alternative school because he was falling behind in credits, when he left the group stopped leaving, because why would they follow ex-friend. Me and E grew closer, but she started dating this guy, and I was heartbroken. She would talk about this guy to the group and I would just die inside every time. She broke up with this guy and came to me for support, I gave it to her but lost support of myself. One day E tried to cut herself in class, luckily the scissors were dull and she couldn’t, she wasn’t at lunch that day though, so I texted her but I got no reply. Later that day she told me what happened. That was the final straw, after crashing a car and putting G in the hospital, losing my great grandma to Alzheimer’s, my brother being hospitalized, after everything realizing the best thing to ever come into my life wanted to end her own destroyed me, out of boredom and anger I ripped apart several plastic cups the nights before, and that night I took one of the plastic shards and cut my wrists. The scratches weren’t deep and I barely bleed but it helped so much I couldn’t stop after one night. I kept doing it down my whole left forearm, my thighs, even my chest. I kept it hidden, I was worried about E finding out the most, I knew it would upset her. One day I showed her and I was right, she was upset. Later one night we were texting, I was explaining how I felt and that I was self conscious and didn’t think I would ever find a girlfriend. She told me she used to like my that night, hearing that made me so happy, I asked her out that night, over text. She rejected me, said she needed time to get over her ex, I thought ok I’ll just wait. I couldn’t wait, I told the school therapist how I had been feeling and showed her my arm, my aunt came to the school and I went home. I tried to stop but I couldn’t the coping skills the internet had didn’t seem to work at all. I kept cutting myself, and I kept asking E out. I asked E out 4 times before I gave up, I was forced to leave Arizona not too long after my aunt find out about my self harming. I flew back to South Carolina, but I strangely felt homesick, even though I was home. I gave up on all my hobbies, they just didn’t interest me anymore. Didn’t like my old friends because they knew the fake me and my friends in Arizona knew the real me. I missed E so much, I texted her everyday and told her how much I loved her, and later she fell in love with me too. I couldn’t take it anymore I cut myself again after swearing not to because how badly it messed up my life, I did it in class. That was a huge mistake the counselor called and ambulance and I was sent to a psych ward. I spent 8 days there and it was horrible, but I realized something. I didn’t miss my family at all when I was there, I only missed E. My whole life was E now, and she was so far away. I proposed to her over a phone call, she said yes. And still it looks like it’ll hopefully go that way. My depression seemed to lift up after a long time, but I changed. I had so much anger now, I would yell at plates when my fork hit it and it was loud, I would imagine killing my dogs if they barked of their nails hit the ground. If someone tried to talk to me when I didn’t want them to I would picture murdering them. I punched holes in the wall and beat trees with branches until they broke. I would lash out for no reason. I haven’t really lost my anger at all. And recently E went to a guy’s house when I told her not to, they had sex and I’m so angry about it. She lied to me about it for awhile, she said she wouldn’t and afterwards said she didn’t, she took a pregnancy test and it’s positive and I don’t know what to do. I want to kill the guy, I keep picturing it in my head, I want to stab him and see the look on his face when he knows his life is over, I want him to die. When E told me about it she cried, she said she regrets it so much and that she was sorry. But I lied to her too, from the beginning I told her I was a virgin like her and we could lose them together, I’ve never had sex with someone besides my sister, I don’t like to think about sex with my sister because it disgusts me, but I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I feel so bad about lying, I told E the truth, I was not a virgin. She doesn’t know it was my sister though. I’ve been dating C for awhile now..... she moved back to South Carolina a little while ago, I feel so bad. She doesn’t know about E, but also I feel bad doing that to E. E knows and right now she has her own boyfriend (D) but I still feel bad about it.
TL;DR I have had a rough past and have dealt with depression for awhile. I have so much built anger I have replaced the suicidal thoughts with homicidal ones. I fall too far in love and get hurt by it.
Edit: Spelling and typos
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 11:20AM by Fmlthrowaway1324 https://ift.tt/2Oqt4zf
Monday, July 30, 2018
[fanfiction] The Conductor
this is my first fanfic ive done. its in the same style as the show and i hope you all atleast like it a little so here it goes.
----------------------------------------------------------------- The Conductor----------------------------------------------------------------
It was a rainy morning and marinate running, late as usual. Tikki peeked her head out, the bag swayed violently with each stride making her fell a little sick from the motion. Gripping a leaf from a bush as they rushed past, using it like an umbrella, and leaving the bag as Marinette had to stop at the traffic lights.
“Oh no, no, no” marionette muttered to her elf, franticly pressing the button.
“Don’t worry Marinette. The Concert won’t be starting till this evening. There isn’t a need to panic” Tikki smiled as she tried to calm the panicked girl down.
“No Tikki you don’t understand!” she yelled.as she remembered the events of last night.
Marinette watched the TV with her parents as Nadia reported on the classical music concert that would be preforming the next day.
“Misère D’Aboville is coming out of retirement after having suffered an accident years ago that crushed his hands seeing an end to his career as a pianist.”
Sabrine watched the screen sadly. Before turning to her husband in a panic.
“That reminds me Tom! Did you remember to put the little wands on all the macaroons for the concert after party?”
“Oh I... um...” he couldn’t remember, he quickly rushed out of the room, muttering he would check if they were he laughed.
“Wands? For a concert hall?” Marinette queried.
“They are called batons but I call them wands, for your father’s sake dear.” She laughed. “I used to go see the orcastra all the time when I was your age with my friend. He was the son of one of the musicians” she smiled.
“After all these years once again the world will hear his music, with an orchestra he has handpicked himself” Nadia’s voice continued. “Everyone believes that Misère D’Aboville son, Tristin D’Aboville will be the pianist for the orchestra. Yet rumor has it that someone else was choose for the position. Could this be a family feud? Don't be bemused, it's just the news”
Marinette missed the sad look on her mother’s face as Nadia announced the last part. As she took this opportunity to head down to the bakery as she could hear tom running franticly down stairs.
As Sabrine left the room, Marinette’s phone buzzed to life. Checking her phone she realized it was none other than Adrien. Squealing to herself she clutched the phone and rushed up to her room.
“Tikki!” She yelled.
“What is it?” Tikki sleepily asked from her small pillow on Marinette’s bed.
“Adrien! Just messaged me!” she exclaimed.
“Well what does it say?” Tikki excitedly rushed over to the squealing girls shoulder to get a better look at the message.
“He’s going to be preforming live tomorrow with the orcastra! And he wants me to be there!” she sang.
Tikki was just as excited by the news. Watching as Marinette rushed her response before jumping in bed, wanting to get to sleep so tomorrow could come sooner.
“Um Marinette” Tikki called as Adrien sent her one last message.
“Not now Tikki, time to sleep then tomorrow it’s all Adrien and me”
She muttered as she drifted off into a fantasy of her in an elegant dress laying on the piano as Adrien played the piano just for her, staring deep into her eyes.
Yet instead of that fantasy she was now here, late, wet and growing more and more frustrated by the lax of light changes. Why oh, why did it come to this?
“I still don’t know why you’re panicking? You not only helped your parents fill their order but you also managed to create this beautiful dress”
“That’s the point Tikki if I wasn’t so enamored by dream then I could have been there instead of making this dress, I could be spending more time with Adrien.” She muttered as the light finally changed. Allowing her to make another quick dash towards the Auditorium de Lyon.
Meanwhile with Adrien, he paced back and forth nervously as Nathalie held the tablet that allowed Gabrielle to see his son.
“With you preforming, it will open up more avenues to which we can grow our business” Gabriel stated, watching as Adrien’s nerves seemed to take a tighter hold. Instead of the stern approach he tried to comfort his son.
“Adrien you’ll do fine, you’ve improved much since we last played together. I believe you’re ready for this,” he tried to comfort
“Father I…” he began, his nerves getting to him, but he felt happier hearing the kind words. Yet his father returned to his usual stoic nature
“But it’s too late to back out now and it would look bad if you dropped out of the concert on the day. While I won’t be there for the rehearse I will attending the how this evening” with that he cut transmission. Nathalie looked at the nervous boy as he stared pacing back and forth again.
She smiled, as she was notified of his friend’s arrival.
“It seems your friends have arrived, if they do not have appropriate attire for the evening then I will be sure it will be provided,” she beamed as Adrien’s joy and excitement returned to him.
“Thanks Nathalie” he called as he ran out the door to greet his friends.
While running down the halls he stop when he heard distant yelling.
“I don’t see why you would get someone else to play father!” one of the voices cried.
“Listen to me Tristin, my name isn’t enough to fill the seats of the hall, Adrien is very popular with the Public, he’ll bring in a crowd” Adrien peeked through the door. It seemed the D’Aboville where arguing over him being involved with the concert.
Maybe if he dropped out the two would stop fighting, before he could interrupt the pairs conversation Plaguu spoke up frightening Adrien.
“I hate this, classical music is a great accompany for camembert. It refines the taste buds.”
Adrien couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s outburst.
“Don’t worry Plaguu there will be plenty of cheese at the after party but don’t you think it’s a bit unfair for me to take the place of the conductor’s son? They should be both playing tonight.”
“Of course is it, we could be eating camembert at home with you pretending to play the piano again. Instead of use being here with no cheese and you have to play”
Adrien shock his head, good old Plaguu, camembert always comes first to the little guy.
When he peeked back, behind the stage it seemed that both the D’Aboville had left already before he had a chance to look for them a familiar voice called out to him.
“Hay Adrien, what’s up man? Congrats on getting this gig” Nino called. Alia by his side, both where drenched from the rain he stopped when he noticed Nino’s suit. Which appeared to be too big for him.
“Thanks for the invite Adrien, we weren’t sure how to dress for the occasion as it’s a black tie. We had to borrow his older brother’s old suit”
Adrien laughed, he thought he looked stupid in his coat tail suit but Nino’s really took the cake.
“Don’t tell me you came here like that with all the rain.”
“I told him not to but he insisted, it’s just a rehearsal so we don’t need to change until this evening.” Alia laughed.
“Soooo…” she began, a sly look on her face
“is Marinette already here? We were running pretty late and didn’t see her at the entrance” Nino finished.
Adrien shock his head, disappointing the pair. They all just laughed it off as the usual Marinette antics. Before Marinette came running down the hall soaked to the bone, her umbrella broke on the way here. And Tikki was back in her bag.
“Hay guys” she called, smiling, slightly disappointed that Nino and Alia where also invited.
“It seems for once you’re on time, even if we were also late” Alia laughed as they were all escorted into the concert hall and took front row seats.
“Thanks for coming everyone, it’s nice to have you guys here supporting me.” He laughed
“how did you get picked anyway Adrien? Wasn’t it the conductor’s son that was going to be playing?” Marinette sheepishly asked, remembering the news report from last night.
“I was asked last minute to preform, this is my first live performance” as soon he finished his sentence he was tackled from behind. Barely even able to keep his balance.
“oh adrie-kins!” Chloe sang. “when daddy told me I had to come to this event, I thought it be so dull but I’m glad you’re here” he happy tone immediately switched to her usual disgusted one “I tried everything to get out of it, but when I remembered you played the piano I told the conductor you would bring more people to the show then him or his son could.” She stopped to marvel at her nails for a second before twirling in her long, yellow flowing gown, with crystals adorning the collar of her dress.
“What do you think of my dress, it’s from the latest collection of Panina tornay”
Adrien laughed sheepishly at Chloe’s demands to be center of attention. Commenting that it looked great, but when pressed on her later comment was called up to the stage. It seemed that Chloe was the cause for the sudden change but it was the conductors choose, Adrien had to remind himself, pushing the argument that he overheard earlier to the back of his mind. Besides Chloe was right, that morning after announcing he would be preforming the tickets to the event had nearly sold out in seconds.
Chloe stared at the others boredly before her eyes landed on Nino’s suit.
Making an almost gagging gesture,
“what on earth where you thinking? As if something like that belongs at this kind of regal affair! Don’t come anywhere near me in that! Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”
While Chloe walked away instead of their usual anger towards her, alia immediately checked their phones staring at it almost intently.
“That’s odd” she uttered, confusing both of them.
“What is? Marinette asked,
“It’s not raining cats and dogs and there aren’t any reports of flying pigs” Alia laughed. “I’m sorry nino but… I actually agree with Chloe” she laughed.
Causing laughter to erupt from everyone in the group. Nino messed lifted his arm to reveal a large rip in the seam. Marinette examined the rip before going into her purse, pulling out a thread and needle.
“Let me see if I can fix that for you” she smiled.
“Thanks Marinette but I’ll be honest the moment I can’t take this off, it’s going in the trash” Nino laughed.
All of them chuckled before being joined by Tristan, who sat a few seats from them. He glared up at the stage going back and though between his father and Adrien as they all got ready for rehearsal.
“You must be Tristin D’Aboville,” Marinette smiled, trying to make polite conversation.
“I am, you must be friends with my replacement” he snidely remake red as he gave her a passing glance. His eyes started to fixate on her face for a moment before turning to face her properly, examining her face. Alia and Niño gave Tristin a weird look due to the way he looked at Marinette.
“Could it be?” he whispered “are you a relation to Sabrine Cheng?”
“How do you know my mums na..?” Marinette stopped as she remembered her mother’s words from the other night.
“Where you the friend my mother’s told me about? The one that she used to go see the orcastra with?”
“I see so you’re her daughter? Tell me can you play the Sheng like your mother?” he smiled, his attitude and cold domineer faded away.
Marinette blinked in confusion. She had never heard of that instrument let along her mother playing one of any form. Seeing Marinette confusion, Tristin sadly slumped in his chair.
“Never mind, I can tell by the look on your face…. She must have given up that day too…”
Before she could question him on what he meant, they head rapid tapping, music filled the room. Marinette had never felt such emotions, she closed her eyes as images came to her mind. Of her and Adrien, as the music narrated both their future lives together.
“Ah, Adrien” she blissfully cheered. Forgetting that alia and Niño could hear her, snickering amongst themselves at her little daydream.
“I think someone has gone a little too far in Adrien land” nudging Marinette, causing her to curl in on herself from embarrassment.
Adrien on the other hand was having fun, yet found it hard to keep up with the misère D’Aboville movements, while he could play the piano this was his first time preforming with a conductor and knew he had already made several mistakes.
It was evident of Adrien’s nerves when his solo came up, he was half way through when Tristin it seemed had had enough of his mistakes as he stormed the stage, pointing at Adrien in anger.
“Silence! Father, I understand why you want him but he keeps making such rookie mistakes!”
“Enough Tristin! This is the night that revives my career, your turn comes tomorrow!”
“Why does it always have to be about you?”
Tristin screamed, storming off stage. His father snapping the baton in anger, going off in his own direction. Adrien just sat there, unsure what to do, it was clear that his presence was what was causing these two to fight.
As Gabriel watched Nathalie feed of the sent he was shocked by anger towards his son and yet…
cutting the feed he took the secret passage to his hidden room.
“Nuru Dark wings rise!”
Gabriel transformed in to hawk moth without hesitation he clutched on to one of the butterflies.
“A father and son, old wounds re-opening, how perfect for my little akuma, fly away and deepen this rift” he cried as it flow out the window.
Meanwhile back on stage, everyone was still reeling from argument, the other musicians glancing over at Adrien before turning away and whispering amongst themselves. It seemed they agreed with Tristan as well.
“What his problem! He should be happy Adrien’s is even here helping them!” Chloe commented as she sat down next to Adrien.
“Adrie-kin you shouldn’t listen to him, he’s just….”
“Chloe,” Adrien couldn’t help but interrupt her. Yet he couldn’t be angry at her, she was right after all, thanks to him the show was sold out despite having only been announced this morning.
“I’ll go talk to him, I didn’t want to cause this” pushing his stool back at giving chase to Tristin.
“Why!? He’s just some jealous jerk, ridiculous utterly ridiculous”
The familiar sound of flapping caught Chloe’s attention though, flittering above the stage was the akuma. Chloe Screamed she ran for cover.
Marinette, Niño and Alaia ran as well as everyone scattered, Marinette split off from the group in the confusion, running into a small closet.
“Oh Tikki why would a…” she stopped realizing who it was after. “It must be after Tristin! And Adrien went after him! Come on Tikki we have to catch that akuma! Spots on!” she cried. Transforming into ladybug right away and heading in Adrien and Tristin’s direction, not spotting the akuma flying in the opposite direction.
Adrien on the other hand had finally caught up to Tristin in the hall where the after party was being held, talking to Sabrine who was trying to comfort him.
“I helped him reinvent himself and he casts me aside on the day of revive” he told her.
“Tristin… I understand why you’re upset but he must have his reasons?”
Adrien didn’t want to interrupt the two, it seemed Sabrine was already doing a good job with consoling the man, he could see where Marinette got her kind heartedness from.
Tom crept up behind Adrien, carrying multiple trays of delicious baked goods.
“Hello Adrien! Thanks for inviting Marinette, she was very excited” he smiled.
“Not a problem sir, but those two… do they know each other?” Adrien could help but ask. Tom looked over at his wife and smiled.
“they used to be high school sweet hearts for a bit, but Tristin moved away after his father’s accident, Sabrine changed from music class to cooking and… well that’s where we meet”
Adrien stared at tom in surprise, the two dated? Surely tom would be a little concerned with his wife talking to a former sweet heart. Then again the more he thought about it, Marinette’s parents where the most loving couple he had ever meet besides his own.
“Mister D’Aboville” he called a he approached the two. Sabrine happy greeted him. While Tristin remained silent, turning his head away from the boy.
“Sir, I never wanted to take your place and I certainly don’t believe that I should be playing… this is my first live audience.” Adrien stared down at his feet. “You should be the one to play” he stated, looking Tristin straight in the eye.
Tristin stopped and looked up at the boy, guilt ridden across his face, he knew it wasn’t Adrien’s fault really, he was just projecting his anger at him.
“No I’m sorry, it’s just…“he slumped in his chair, unsure on how to approach the situation when they noticed several people flee into the room.
Ladybug ran in trying to keep everyone calm before noticing Tristin sitting there, unakumatised.
“Don’t worry everyone the akuma wont evilise anyone here. She looked around in worry, the akuma wasn’t here yet which was good but she still couldn’t help but worry. If the akuma wasn’t here then where was it?
Suddenly a strange noise coming from behind the barricaded door. Ladybug was shocked by the noise, who could it have gotten if Tristin was here? The doors where blown open by Misère D’Aboville who floated in the air.
Looking like a cross between Beethoven and Cogs worth from beasty and the beast. Several instruments floating behind him.
“Do not fear! I, the conductor will play the melodies beyond compare my perfect symphony” he laughed as the instruments played hypnotic tones that stopped the screams as the crowd as they stood like zombies.
“now everyone grab an instrument and let me show you the true musical prowess I command” he sang, waving his baton around, as the musicians stood and grabbed their floating instruments and continuing to play, causing the music to get stronger and play louder.
Even Chloe was effected causing the conductor to ponder for a second. “A girl with no musical talent… but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn to play a basic instrument.” He smiled as a small harp hovered in front of her. Chloe gripped it but was only able to play two strings, constantly strumming them in her trance.
“Oh no… I thought the son was the one the akuma was after!” ladybug cried as Tristin stared up at his father in shock. Had he really caused this?
“Father?” he whispered, unsure, it couldn’t be true could it. The conductor stared at him before laughing manically.
“Why if it isn’t my son! I do everything for you and this how you repay me!”
“what’s that supposed to mean, you always made it about you and your fame!” he cried back.
Ladybug pushed him out of the way as the conductor aimed his musical tones towards them.
“Everyone get moving” she yelled as she pushed the trio out of the room.
Adrien leading them to a small storage space under the stage.
Sabrine looked around she stopped.
“Where’s tom And Marinette?”
Ladybug stopped for a moment, hesitant to truly answer her mother but then panicked. She hadn’t seen her father in the previous room at all, she could only hope he escaped.
Tom sadly hadn’t, he stood their ideally wondering what to do, and if he tried to escape then the conductor would notice him. He tried to creep away as the conductor waved his baton and sent the crowd of musicians marching back towards the stage.
“With tonight’s opening I will turn the audience in to more classical lovers of the arts. I will find the hidden gems and create a true orcastra of the best.”
Tom grabbed a nearby drum and tapped it several times, trying to blend in. but his off notes caught the conductor’s attention.
“My my, are you not effected by my songs?”
Tom dropped the drum and scratched the back of his head nervously.
“I’m sorry, my wife’s the musician… I’m very tone deaf, I can’t even play the triangle.”
The conductor seemed to ponder this for a moment before summoning several simple instruments to his side and blasting there hypnotic melodies at tom. A cowbell floated in his direction, and he started tapping away at it slowly.
“Aw yes much better. Now for Tristin”
hawk moths voice stopped the conductor in his tracks however
“do not forget that ladybug is protecting him, and chat noir can’t be far, bring me both their miraculous and you will be the world’s greatest conductor!”
“Yes hawk moth I’ve not forgotten” smiling sadistically he continued with his instructions to lead everyone to the stage. Spawning several instruments along the way pondering what instrument ladybug and chat noir would play the best.
Ladybug on the other hand was in a panic as she paced back and though trying to reach chat noir. Adrien watched her worriedly, looking down at Plaguu, who shook his head. He couldn’t transform here in front of everyone that could ruin everything but he couldn’t get way.
Ladybug stopped as she looked over to Tristin and her mother. “Do you have any idea why your father would be mad at you?” she asked. Tristin looked at his knees.
“We had a fight” he started. “After his accident, he was a shell of himself, I mastered the piano for him, and he even said I had surpass him in his prime.” He spoke sadly. “When I convinced him to try and be a conductor, he was ecstatic and always said that we would play together when he was ready to rejoin the musical world...”
Adrien stared at Tristin a gasped, so that explained why Tristin was so angry at him, his father had gone back on his word… just to fill in seats at the music hall, he could understand the anger that he held towards him.
“What was the accident?” ladybug enquired hoping that it could give her a clue as to what had happened but instead of Tristin it was Sabrine that spoke.
“Tristin about back then…” she calmly spoke, guilt ridden in her voice. “I went to see him after your mother was admitted into the hospital for the last time…”
A younger version of Sabrine marched down the halls in anger as she slammed the doors to the main stage open in anger she glanced around before her eyes finally landed on misère D’Aboville who was alone on stage tapping away on the keys.
“How could you be here!” she yelled “your wife is in the hospital, she could...” D’Aboville slammed down on the keys causing her to stop in her rant.
“I know fully well… but there is nothing I can do, she wants me here, rather than sitting at home and caring for her!” he yelled back, tears forming “don’t let your talent go to waste, for my sake she told me. So here I am” he screamed as he started to play a dark and gloomy song before stopping halfway and breaking down into silent sobs.
“How do you think Tristin feels, he hates music! He believes that you would rather focus on your career then our family and I have to say agree.” Sabrine’s tongue cut him deep.
“Is that what he really thinks?” he asked, shocked in disbelief that that was how his son would think that way. Sabrine merely nodded.
“Yes, and… from today I will never pick up a sheng again, I would never choose my career over family” she stated.
After a few minutes of silence she took it as sign to leave. When she got to the door she heard a loud crash, coming from the piano. When she turned around, she stared in horror as D’Aboville hand laid crushed under the piano cover. He had slammed it down so hard on his hands that he had clearly broken his fingers beyond repair.
Sabrine ran from the scene shocked by what she had seen.
“… after that, I just ran home. Next thing I heard was that you and your family moved away…” Sabrine stared down at her feet, everyone’s eyes where fixated on her. “I felt so guilty about the whole thing that I never played an instrument again. I’m sorry I never told you Tristin” looking in to Sabrine’s eyes he could see that she truly meant every world.
“So he gave up everything for me… to be with mother for her last few days…” he mumbled before hearing hordes of feet above them.
The orcastra reassembled as the conductor lead them in to a soft melody.
“Come out Tristin! If you want so badly to be in my orcastra, then you wouldn’t mind coming out here and proving your worth!” he called.
Ladybug peered up through the cracks, Nathalie, Alia and Niño where already under the hypnosis, Niño playing the xylophone and Alia on the clarinet and Nathalie playing the cello. She need chat and soon but guessed she would have to do without him for the moment.
That’s when she noticed a clock in the corner, it was soon time for the public to enter the hall. She had to stop them at all cost.
“Wait here, I need to stop anyone from entering the building” she said before running out the room.
“I’ll try too, some of my fans might try and come in and rescue me…” Adrien muttered as he followed suit leaving Tristin and Sabrine behind. As soon as he left, Plaguu flow out of his hiding place.
“Man… this sucks, I don’t want to end up playing an instrument when I could be eating cheese! Unless it’s a cheese horn”
“No time Plaguu, Claws out!” Adrien cried as he transformed.
Ladybug on the other hand stood at the entrance, trying to stop the hypnotized baristas from calling passerby’s inside. Breaking all their instruments in the process.
“Hello milady! Heard you were conducting a little scheme for this villain” chat noir remarked as he joined her at the entrance.
“What’s your plan?”
“I need you to make sure no one can get access to the street. Hurry I don’t think I can fight these guys off for long while keeping the citizens safe.”
“Understood”
Without much though Chat charged out the building and onto the opposing roof to get a better look of the road below.
“Now then how do I close this down?” he pondered, it was a small road and a few people where coming early for the show.
That’s when he spotted a police offer patrolling nearby, jumping down chat greeted the officer.
“Hay, we have an akuma situation, you need to block this road and I mean now. Don’t let anyone down there”
“understood chat!” they saluted.
As chat arrived back at the entrance it seemed ladybug had just tied up the barristers as she tightened the knot.
“What now?”
“The conductor… he gave up his music to be with his family so why would he be effected by the akuma?” she contemplated.
“Maybe because he always has to choose between family and his passion?” chat commented, trying his hardest not to give away he was aware of the situation, he couldn’t risk ladybug knowing he was there.
Ladybug couldn’t decide on what to do next she needed a clue, let alone find where the akuma was hiding. Calling her lucky charm she was shocked when it summoned a strange instrument she had never seen before.
“What is this?” she asked herself as she examined the strange instrument. Chat stared at it for a bit “I believe this is a sheng but how will this help us?”
Looking down at the instrument, now that she knew what it was, helped her form a plan in her head.
“Kitty we are going to need a few things.”
As they crept through the hall, they could still hear the conductor playing in the main hall, good as long he stayed there they had time.
When they got to the door that lead under the stage ladybug left chat there to fill them in on the plan as she handed chat the bag with the dress she had made for herself this morning.
Chat walked in with the sheng and bag in toll.
“Hello?” chat called,
Sabrine and Tristin peeked out of their hiding places, waving to chat.
“We have a plan but we will need both of you to play along?”
“what can we do to help?”
Ladybug snuck into the main concert hall, watching the conductor as he lead the orcastra into a fast pace melody.
“Misère D’Aboville, please stop this!”
“Aw ladybug how good of you to join us!” he waved is baton a few time as the pulsating waves of music flow towards her.
“I know you gave up music once, even going to extreme lengths, but surely if you explained to your son he would…”
“Enough!” he cried, angered by ladybugs reminders of his past. But clutched his head as the image of his wife came to mind.
“Don’t listen to ladybug! You want to be a musician to be remembered don’t you!? Get me her miraculous or I’ll take back your powers!” not wanting to loss his powers. Orchestra his musicians to aim their hypnotic waves in ladybugs direction. After a few moments a strange tune filled the hall.
Looking back on stage he stared in amazements as Sabrine stood their playing the sheng, Tristin following her lead with the piano as they played Huang Ruo: Wind blows.
Sabrine wore Marinette’s dress, as they were close to the same size it fit her like a glove, the long red dress with black ruffles along the top and bordering the slit that went up the side of the dress made her a picture of beauty.
“Such a sweet melody” he cried, tears of joy coming to his eyes as he saw images of the two in their youth playing.
Ladybug used this as an opportunity to get close to the conductor she couldn’t reach the baton where she believed the akuma was hiding. As he started to use it to command his orcastra to join the two in their song.
Looking up at chat who was in the lights above the stage she signaled for him to move on to the next step. Calling his cataclysm he broke the lighting fixture as it came crashing down on top of the conductor.
“No!” he cried as the baton fell out of his grip.
“Sorry but I believe you left the keys to your success slip away” chat smiled as he played a few notes on the piano. As he went to go pick up the baton the conductor laughed.
“A conductor can command an army without one of those!” he cried as he waved his arms, bring the orchestra back to life. Chat clutched his head as he was hit full blast by the hypnotic waves trying to fight it in desperation.
“Chat noire! I could have sworn the akuma was in there!” ladybug cried in frustration as she tried to figure out where it was, but her earrings started to beep in her ears, she only had a few minutes left.
“Now, ow where do you think you’re going?” the conductor jeered as he broke free from the light rig that pinned him. As he faced ladybug Tristin and Sabrine could see the akuma’s hiding place. A family photo was held in the back pocket.
Sabrine continued to play the sheng as it seemed to repel some of the hypnotic melody. While Tristin it seemed just wasn’t effected in the slightest.
“Tristin my boy! With me in control of this orcastra! I will soon turn all of Paris in to fans of yours” Tristin was stunned, his father even when akuma-tised was trying to put him first.
“Now then, attack!” he yelled as he set chat after ladybug, waving his hands as if controlling chat like a puppet.
Ladybug begged chat to snap out of it, clutching her earrings as chat pinned her down, she didn’t have long before she was going to transform back.
“Chat stop!” she cried.
The conductor laughed at her struggles.
“Soon no one will be able to stop me!”
“Yes!” Hawk moth cried, “if ladybug turns back, her miraculous and kwamii will be mine!” cheering at the prospect of succeeding.
“I don’t think so!” Sabrine yelled, as she throw the sheng at the conductor, causing the photo to fall from his pocket. Tristin dove towards the photo, tearing it into pieces.
“No!” the conductor yelled as the akuma flow out the photo. The hypnosis wore off everyone instantly, ladybug took the opportunity to catch the akuma, and chat on the other hand grabbed the sheng as he came to his senses.
Throwing it up into the air, it burst and slowly turned everything back to normal.
“I’m sorry I really have to go, chat take care of this for me will you?” lady bug ran out of the room barely making it into a closet in time to change back.
“That was to close” she muttered.
“You’re telling me” Tikki agreed.
Hawkmoth on the other hand was fuming, once again he had failed to get ahold of the miraculous and he was so close to finding out who she was.
“Next time, you won’t be so lucky ladybug, next ill win for sure!”
As Marinette came back into the room, she saw chat assisting everyone that still dizzy from the effects.
“Tom! Sabrine cried as she hugged on to her husband.
“Honey!” he cried as he twirled her around. “You look stunning” he marveled, causing her to blush and giggle at the comment.
Tristin and his father on the other hand stood nervously next to each other. Unsure what to say.
“You broke your hands… why?” Tristin asked.
“You and your mother where the most important things in my life” he began “I couldn’t bare to let my passions consume me in such away ever again so I…”
Tristin held onto his father in a tight embrace. “I thought I lost you as well after she passed. You were never the same, I thought maybe if I played the piano it would make you happy again.”
Tristin handed the photo back, a smile on his face. “I don’t think mum wanted you to give up on your dream either, that’s why I pushed you to be a conductor instead. Since you could never play the piano again”
Looking down at the photo he caressed his wife’s face slowly with a sad smile. “You were going to play tonight but… that young lady” pointing over at Chloe, who was demanding that chat noire find Adrien for her ASAP.
“she made me realize that people that where coming would only look at me, not at you… so I made someone else take your place, in hopes that next show they would focus on you instead”
Tristin was taken aback his father had pushed him out not for his own spot light, but so everyone wouldn’t be as focused on his famous father and notice him as well. He had truly misunderstood his father
“What happened?” Marinette called as she ran towards her friends.
“Marinette where were you?” her parents fussed.
“Ya girl, what happened?” Alia asked.
Marinette was flummoxed for a bit by the questioning before smiling with a shrug,
“I hid in a closet, I waited until the music stopped before I left. I guess I missed all of the action huh?” she answered
“Well at least your safe that’s the main thing” chat commented before his ring started flashing. “Better go, the lady did sing after all” he ran away.
That night the performance went off without a hitch, Tristin and his father both played on stage while Adrien sat in the front row,
“how can you be ok with not being on stage Adrien? You being up there would have been sooo much better” Chloe cried.
“I don’t think so, I’ve never played in front of others before in a live setting, besides I can still draw a crowd in without playing” he smiled. While Chloe just pouted, before wrapping her arms around Adrien’s, happy should at least cuddle his arm.
Marinette glared at Chloe, how could she be so brazen like that? She stewed. Her mother placed her hand on shoulder, still wearing Marinette gown from earlier.
“don’t worry about it honey, Adrien only sees her like sister, much the same way me and Tristin felt towards each other in our younger days”
tom seemed stumped by that revelation, “I thought you to where dating back then”
“no, silly I had a crush on… someone else, why do you think I changed from music to cooking classes?” she smiled up at her husband.
They all laughed at the revelation as tom’s face turned an impressive pink hue. It seemed that the orchestra had brought them closer together.
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 05:54AM by kariookami44 https://ift.tt/2Ow3w3N
Attempted some nail art with straight line vinyls
https://ift.tt/2v2eG8a
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 05:57AM by shuttap https://ift.tt/2AsnhGu
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 05:57AM by shuttap https://ift.tt/2AsnhGu
Bamboo fence, decorate your yard
You must be happy to decorate your yard. Decorating the yard can be an art for some people. So they need tools to decorate their garden. I want to introduce you to this bamboo fence. This is not a novel product, it may be everywhere. For some people it may be a dispensable product. But what I want to say is that a dispensable product can decorate your yard, make your home more beautiful and more organized, and this product is still very cheap. Then why not buy it?
Don't underestimate this product.This bamboo fence decorates your garden, your yard, and your life. Put them in your garden, it can help flowers grow, support vegetables and leaves to grow vertical. One day you will find all flowers and leaves protected well and live vividly like a beautiful picture. Of course you can put it on the wall as a frame.On the other hand, you can use a bamboo fence to circle a piece of land for planting, so that the bamboo fence plays a role in dividing the area, making your yard look more organized.
It is made from dark green, PVC-coated,so the advantages of this bamboo fence is durable, waterproof and anti-corrosion.Just like any other product,it is easy and quick to install, you can fixed it with nails.The shape in the middle is quadrilateral, so it has flexible features, you can move it freely.
Overall, this product is very suitable for use in the courtyard.Ideal for supporting flowers, sweet peas and other favorites,and can also be used as a defense animal.If you need it,you can browse the link.
https://www.agfabric.com/fence/ecotrellis-flexible-fence-bamboo-fence-sallow-2.html
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 06:03AM by guixiu-zhu https://ift.tt/2OwI4M6
Relapsed back into biting for the last few months. Decided to do some simple nail art to kick me back into painting regularly!
https://ift.tt/2mVYPna
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 02:45AM by Jolly_Dragonite https://ift.tt/2vjOQvS
Submitted July 31, 2018 at 02:45AM by Jolly_Dragonite https://ift.tt/2vjOQvS
I painted the Blood Moon on my nails
https://ift.tt/2LIR5D4
Submitted July 29, 2018 at 02:25PM by nagelfuchs https://ift.tt/2LYTQNq
Submitted July 29, 2018 at 02:25PM by nagelfuchs https://ift.tt/2LYTQNq
Any good strategies for the trial of the fool?
So i just completed literally everything in the game except for the trial of the fool (i swear the trials are fucking logarithmic) and i really don't want to sit forever with the 106% haunting my dreams, so after multiple failed attempts at the trial i've pretty much given up and decided to ask people for help.
I have every charm and all that, so essentially i'll try any strats you guys can come up with to see if any works for me.
Thank you guys in advance!
P.S. less than one month for gods and glory boiiiiiiis
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 09:33PM by nddragoon https://ift.tt/2uYLDCe
Gorgeous Winter Red Nail Art Designs
https://ift.tt/2vhxWOs
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 09:11PM by stylishbelles https://ift.tt/2OrBKFs
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 09:11PM by stylishbelles https://ift.tt/2OrBKFs
27 [M4F] Anywhere. Am I your cup of tea?
Hello,
I'm looking for someone who thinks I'm the person they wanted. So, I'll just write few things about me.
I'm a 'funny' brown guy from South India / Western Europe. 178 cm & 72 kg. I'm a scientific engineer for living. I've a simple life. I don't eat meat / drink / smoke / do drugs. I don't prefer lavish spending for myself. I very much like few board games.
I don't believe in religion. I don't like politics. I'm selectively social - zero experience in relationships. I've decided to be childfree, but I've sponsored couple of orphan kids already. I wish to do more good in future, for animals as well. I appreciate honesty no matter what, lying is a big deal-breaker.
Being clean is very important: I brush / shower at least twice a day, I've neat nails & teeth. I like to 'look' tough as well: I'm a skinhead with goatee 'mostly', I practice martial arts (have few scars). These are because I've trust issues, fear of hair fall & diseases.
As for a partner, I've no preference, I'm cool if they have a different lifestyle than mine. I only see that we are on the same page / compatible. I'd like to talk and see where / how it goes.
If you'd like to know more, don't hesitate, I'm an open-book.
Until then.
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 09:19PM by whoofwhoof https://ift.tt/2OrBHtg
27 [M4F] Anywhere. Am I your cup of tea?
Hello,
I'm looking for someone who thinks I'm the person they wanted. So, I'll just write few things about me.
I'm a 'funny' brown guy from South India / Western Europe. 178 cm & 72 kg. I'm a scientific engineer for living. I've a simple life. I don't eat meat / drink / smoke / do drugs. I don't prefer lavish spending for myself. I very much like few board games.
I don't believe in religion. I don't like politics. I'm selectively social - zero experience in relationships. I've decided to be childfree, but I've sponsored couple of orphan kids already. I wish to do more good in future, for animals as well. I appreciate honesty no matter what, lying is a big deal-breaker.
Being clean is very important: I brush / shower at least twice a day, I've neat nails & teeth. I like to 'look' tough as well: I'm a skinhead with goatee 'mostly', I practice martial arts (have few scars). These are because I've trust issues, fear of hair fall & diseases.
As for a partner, I've no preference, I'm cool if they have a different lifestyle than mine. I only see that we are on the same page / compatible. I'd like to talk and see where / how it goes.
If you'd like to know more, don't hesitate, I'm an open-book.
Until then.
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 09:22PM by whoofwhoof https://ift.tt/2vkNKQa
Sparklessss! I usually stick with my usual when doing my own nails, this time I tried something new!
https://ift.tt/2NSAYAf
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 06:49PM by kabobinson https://ift.tt/2LTklH8
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 06:49PM by kabobinson https://ift.tt/2LTklH8
Raymond Queneau - Three stories and selected texticles [translated by Mara Cologne Wythe-Hall]
Published in Stories and Remarks (University of Nebraska Press, 2000):
Green With Fright
An alternate translation by Barbara Wright (under the title "A Blue Funk") was published in French Writing Today, edited by Simon Watson Taylor (Grove Press, 1969):
As far as I can remember, I've always been afraid of anything that might give me any trouble; I thus was successively afraid of the bogeyman, wax figures in the Dupuytren museums, places overly frequented by vehicles, hoodlums, flowerpots that fall on heads, ladders, the clap, the pox, the Gestapo, V-2S. Peace did not, of course, in any way ease these alarms; thus, the other evening, I'm eating some chestnut puree, and I begin to dream that I'm in a djip and that the driver wasn't going to avoid a thick pillar, I see it coming, I tell myself that we're crashing into it, there it is, we crashed into it, everything goes black; in the blackness, I say to myself: I'm dead, I say to myself: so that's what it's like when you die, and then I wake up, my stomach distended and my heart beating. I turn the lights on, I look at my watch, it's two o'clock, two o'clock in the morning, still pretty early, and I get up to take a piss. As I don't use a chamberpot, I have to go to the toilet. There's a long corridor. I go down it saying: if this, if that. I manage to scare myself, and I go into the john quite happy to be able to close the door behind me, to make this long story short, and feel at home, and not only to close the door, but also to turn the lock.
I piss.
I pull the chain.
When the hygienic gurgling quieted down, I sensed the presence of nothingnesses in the corridor, without any atmosphere of existence, which made me warm in the teeth, cold under the fingernails, general horripilation. An abject fright grabbed hold of my soul, and, putting my head in my hands, I sat down on the toilet seat, bemoaning my vile fate. The presence of these nothingnesses without any atmosphere of existence was obviously the fruit (immaculately conceived) of my imagination taken to the brinks of shittery under the influence of the chestnut puree. This explanation, valid from the point of view of many an ism, could not help, of course, but fully satisfy my penchant for philosophical studies, but did nothing, alas! to prevent the existence of the nothingnessing atmospheres of presence from lurking about in the corridor, thirsting after cerumen and depravity, swollen with their labile pointlessness and their inappropriate onanism.
An hour passed.
I felt the ambiences full of the nothingness of their present existence flatten themselves against the door of the bog, dribble their loathsome purulence against it and twist around the doorknob, like a lemon upon the cone that will extract its acidic and citric liquid. They deeply disgusted me. And as for myself, I remained seated on the toilet seat, bemoaning my fate, and I could see, blurring through my tears, the parallelepipedic shape and the downy touch of my sack, where I had dreamily smashed in my face in a djip.
I would very much have liked to have gone back to it, to go to sleep, to try to, but there was the atmosphere of existences without presence and without nothingness that, lurking in the corridor, prevented me from giving the lock the 1800 rotation that would have been the first step toward hitting the hay in which I was longing t'snorze. I'm timorous, certainly, as I said, I realize it, but I've never sought to avoid bitter reality, I've always looked it inna face. Since I was stuck for more than two hours in this spot that is sometimes described, and childishly so, as "little," I had to resign myself and found a society there of which I would be at once Robinson and Friday, and, just as the hero of the British novel saw trunks full of workman's treasures brought by a sea both benevolent and subject to a Neptune named Defoe, I thus discovered in a little cabinet the first elements of my Robinsonism in the form of a toolbox very decently stocked with nails, hammers, pliers, screws, and hooks, not to mention a folding rule that measured twelve decimeters, an archaeological trace of a duodecimal-based civilization.
But the presences without nothingness of ambient existence continued to lurk in the corridor, leaving their trail of preternatural, abulic, and subperceptible snail-slobber.
Five hours trickled along the toilet chain, which communicated, through some architectural subtlety, with the Empire clock next door.
The discovery of the toolbox restored my courage. I got up, I took a second piss, I pulled the foresaid chain and began to hammer nails into the wall, this attitude having at that moment, for me, no precise goal. I simply demonstrated in this manner my ambient presence of existing nothingness. And as I overheard, at my bedroom doorstep, having gotten up in the middle of the night from having eaten too much chestnut puree and desirous of having a piss, the muffled sound of the hammer being wielded in the toilet by a nothingness present in an existing ambiance, I made an about-turn, scared shitless, and went back to bed.
Dream Accounts Aplenty
Alternate translation: "Accounts of Abundant Dreams," by Brigitte Lambert, in Atlas Anthology III, edited by Alastair Brotchie and Malcolm Green (Atlas Press, 1985):
I go to a mathematicians' luncheon. The first guest who arrives is carrying a cello. Although we are in one of the inner suburbs, we find ourselves before a brook with water lilies sprouting from it. One of the mathematicians present points out how Heraclitus was mistaken in saying that one never bathes in the same river twice: when one drinks a glass of water there are surely several molecules of H2O that have already passed through our body. The others agree.
I run into an Arab and tell him about the death of a Spanish worker with whom he was acquainted. He isn't surprised, for this worker was working on a building site where an iron ball had fallen on his head. I approach the neighboring building site: the Seine has overrun the foundations. They've had to cut off the water.
My sister-in-law brings back the books I had lent her. I was unable to remember their titles. She is driving a little car with automatic transmission and complains of rheumatism.
I am in the country at the home of a doctor. He is grilling some eggplants and cutlets, which catch fire, then he plays the lute.
One of my friends is dead. Another of my friends whom I haven't seen in a long time goes to kiss him on the forehead. A third asks me the identity of a lady who is present. I tell him: "She's the head of manufacturing." He: "The head of manufacturing's wife?"--"No," I say to him, "the head of manufacturing." He goes to shake her hand.
The butcher's wife writes me a letter, asking me to leave the shutters a L'italienne. I wonder why and what she means.
I am in a little town whose topography is unfamiliar to me. I try to follow the same route as the day before. I venture, however, down a narrow alley whose buildings seem abandoned. There is a barbershop there without barber or clients. I wonder what he could have been thinking to have set up shop in a spot with so little traffic. Leaving this alley I see a fat lady in pants who is walking a cat at the end of a long leash and who is accompanied by a Siberian spitz.
I enter a church that is still adorned with a traditional altar. On a sheet of commercial-sized paper posted on the confessional there is a list of the members of the brotherhood of Saint Rose. I read it carefully. Then I examine with equal care the foot of a Romanesque column decorated with a hare and a snail. As I am about to leave, a priest in a cassock enters. I ask him what the Saint Rose brotherhood is. He explains it to me, but I have only retained a confused recollection of his explanations concerning the brotherhood (it's a matter of consecrated bread ... of masses spoken . . .); as to the saint, he stresses that it is not the Saint Rose of Lima, but a local saint. A little later, I find myself in an isolated hamlet. There is a church there that is associated with the Hôtel de Sens in Paris. The neighboring farmer has lent the key so that it can be visited. He arrives bare-chested, accompanied by his wife, who is wearing shorts. Before us there is a pond; the ducks and drakes are going to sleep for it is very late. The moon is almost full.
I ask in a cafe where the Saint-Baudel chapel is located. No one knows except for the proprietress, who shows me the way. I find it without difficulty. Inside I see two nearly nude boys on mattresses; pennants of the Jeune Garde on the walls, but the sixteenth century paintings that I was expecting to find are still on the ceiling.
In an absolutely deserted village, a countryman in the main square is trying to make a parachute-shaped kite rise up into the air.
I have rented a house, which I leave in order to go into the garden. I am surprised to find a lady there in the midst of shelling peas. She is settled on a rocking chair: "Come over to our side, then." I apologize, stammering, and close the door behind me.
I see a poster kept under glass over a grave. It is the speech made by a miller in 1896; a speech that he had printed: a eulogy to his mother who died at the age of eighty-two. He is the third of eighteen children. The word "fatal" is in the text, and others of the same sort. I go into the neighboring church, which has been restored with shiny exposed beams and handrails with neon lighting. Two little gothic carved figures, however, remain. I go out and again find myself in the cemetery. They have grouped together the graves of those who died in the war. There are four of them. The crosses that surmount the graves and the chains that join them together are in wrought iron of a peculiar style. I go to reread the miller's speech.
Some parents visit Saint-Benoit with their little girl. I am looking attentively at the capitals when the father says to me (addressing me familiarly): "Explain to her what mass is." I look at the little girl. She must be six years old. I ask: "Has she received a Christian upbringing?" "No," he replies. I feel rather muddled and keep quiet while the father launches into explanations that the little girl listens to with round eyes. The mother smiles. She has purchased some cakes: they are good, it seems, at Saint-Benoit-sur-Loire.
Seated at a table on the terrace in a little provincial town, I am looking at the statue of a physicist and, in spite of the twilight that is transforming into night, am trying to make out the inscriptions on the pedestal. All of a sudden, sirens. People come to the windows. Some time passes. The shutters close again. There are no more onlookers when the fire engine passes by. Then an individual suddenly appears from the darkness, whose face reminds me of that of a mulish alcoholic of Depot 24 during the phony war. He comes up to me and holds his hand out, calling me master.
Of course none of these dreams are any more real than they are invented. They are simply minor incidents taken from wakened life. A minimal effort of rhetoric seemed sufficient to give them a dreamlike aspect.
That's all I wanted to say.
A Story of Your Own
Alternate translations: "Yours for the Telling", by John Crombie, and "A Story as You Like It," by Warren Motte, in Oulipo: A Primer of Potential Literature (Dalkey Archive Press, 1998).
1—Would you like to know the story of the three lively little peas?
if yes, go to 4
if no, go to 2.2—Would you prefer that of the three tall slender beanpoles?
if yes, go to 16
if no, go to 3.3—Would you prefer that of the three medium-sized mediocre bushes?
if yes, go to 17
if no, go to 21.4—Once upon a time there were three little peas dressed in green who were sleeping soundly in their pod. Their oh so chubby faces were breathing through the holes of their nostrils and one could hear their sweet, harmonious snoring.
if you prefer another description, go to 9
if this one suits you, go to 5.5—They were not dreaming. In fact, these little beings never dream.
if you prefer that they dream, go to 6
otherwise, go to 7.6—They were dreaming. In fact, these little beings always dream and their nights secrete charming visions.
if you want to know these dreams, go to 11
if you’re not particularly keen to, then go to 7.7—Their dainty feet were dipped in warm socks and they wore black velvet gloves to bed.
if you prefer gloves of a different color go to 8
if this color suits you, go to 10.8—They wore blue velvet gloves to bed.
if you prefer gloves of a different color, go to 7
if this color suits you, go to 10.9—Once upon a time there were three little peas knocking about on the highways. When evening came, they quickly fell asleep, tired and weary.
if you want to know the rest, go to 5
if not, go to 21.10—All three had the same dream, for they loved each other tenderly and, like good and proud thrins, always had similar dreams.
if you want to know their dream, go to 11
if not, go to 12.11—They dreamed that they were getting their soup at the soup kitchen and that on opening their billies they discovered that it was vetch soup. They woke up, horrified.
if you want to know why they woke up horrified,
look up the word “vetch” in Webster’s and let’s not mention it again
if you don’t think it’s worth going deeper into the matter, go to 12.12—Opopoï! they cried as they opened their eyes. Opopoï! what sort of dream did we give birth to! Bad omen, said the first. Yah, said the second, you said it, I’m all sad now. Don’t get in a tizzy, said the third, who was the craftiest of the three, this isn’t something to get upset over, but something to understand, to cut a long story short, I’m going to analyze it for you.
if you want to know the interpretation of this dream right away, go to 15
if, on the contrary, you wish to know the reactions of the other two, go to 13.13—That’s a lot of hooey, said the first. Since when do you know how to analyze dreams. Yeah, since when? added the second.
if you too would like to know since when, go to 14
if not, go to 14 anyway, because you still won’t know why.14—Since when? cried the third. How should I know! The fact is I analyze them. You’ll see!
if you too want to see, go to 15
if not, go to 15 anyway, because you’ll see nothing.15—Well, let’s see, then, said his brothers. I don’t like your irony, he replied, and you won’t know anything. Anyway, hasn’t your feeling of horror dimmed during this rather lively conversation? Vanished, even? So what’s the point of stirring up the quagmire of your papilionaceous unconscious? Let’s go wash up at the fountain instead and greet this happy morning with hygiene and sacred euphoria! No sooner said than done: there they are slipping out of their pod, letting themselves gently roll along the ground and then, jogging, they merrily reach the theater of their ablutions.
if you want to know what happens at the theater of their ablutions, go to 16
if you would rather not, you go to 21.16—Three big beanpoles were watching them.
if the three tall beanpoles displease you, go to 21
if they suit you, go to 18.17—Three medium-sized mediocre bushes were watching them.
if the three medium-sized mediocre bushes displease you, go to 21
if they suit you, go to 18.18—Finding themselves eyeballed in this way, the three nimble little peas who were very modest ran off.
if you want to know what they did next, go to 19
if you don’t want to know, you go to 21.19—They ran speedily to get back to their pod and, shutting it again behind them, went back to sleep.
if you would like to know the rest, go to 20
if you do not want to know, you go to 21.20—There is no rest the story is over.
21—In that case, the story is also over.
A Handful of Texticles
Tit and Tat
They were each speaking two different languages, agglutinative languages with bitter roots, and at first that didn't bother them. Moreover, the rolled words in their rocky inlets spread mauve reflections, but little information. They tried various categories, faux nemes, pure verbs, clicks, moos: every time some eggs of sumethin' else hatched under their words.
It was completely baffling.
They were each speaking two different languages, agglutinative languages with bitter roots.
The Haughties
If I were what I think I am, I would not be here making my bit of goose slave away in the ink, unsticking the ballpoint pen, cementing the scrapers, hardening the soft bits of bread. Where would I be, not here of course, I've already said so, letting my waterman rule my sergeant-major, capulating with some she-fur, training my park-curs, sojourning my elephants. You have to admit it, art has severe principles that go beyond the fame of the haughties. The haughties: those who believe they have a bit of it. They distinguish. They paradigm. They perpend. They sneakify. They gaudify. With my quill in the air, I say no and put three ens to my name and innumerable "o"s.
Description of a Certain foe Schmoe
A little thicker at the chin than at the corner of the spleen, that was the first thing that struck you when you didn't look at him too much from the side. Still old enough, though of a Venetian luster, he appeared to be bathed in more sweat than his boxing wanted. His eye fresh, but hung up, his look slightly stringy, ear at ease, nose green, mouth twitching, corners of the kennel decidedly too pronounced and Achilles tendon constantly at rest, his face thus made a shifty sound that the jolting curve of his shoulders was unable to glue up. A chestnut brown detail corroborated his ventricles. The nourishment of his striking feature also fed the corn on his cob from which he suffered every seasoning. Nothing had ever been able to heal it, not even the dreary pension of an old tuna-meat pedant. His salad fermented over a slow heat between the schnozz and the ballast, but without loud singing so as not to awaken the eagle of the dulcimer, tough and quick tempered.
He would light up through auto-kept rotation of the pyrophor. The ribs of his pen cap, made well enough to disgust a dandy, enveloped him from head to toe in a thin latticework of nags.
It was still no better.
Two fingers of fatigue, one of them too short and the other short enough, allowed him only the most sparing of waltz steps, but not always. To the right of the box of his biennial bone, there was nothing much to do, for him as well as for others, but to the left. He constantly heard himself talking, with a fillet of soil that sometimes descended to the hollow of the yew.
To every heart, he answered tails. That was the most caudal aspect of his behavior and the one that sometimes in his melancholy led him to screw down the asphalt of his first kernel. The passersby, disconcerted, hit the bull's-eye.
Heterogeneous Homophones
Few men keep abreast, all women have two.
He was smoking so much pot he was going to it.
Atop the Eiffel Tower, we got one of Paris.
While smoking a butt, he scratched his.
He drove away from the park because he couldn't.
Dressed in crepe, she flipped several.
He turned red after his report card was.
Removing her veil, she descended into it.
To ensure that the drunkard wouldn't whine, they gave him some.
Being well bred, the child ate his buttered.
He made a call to the delivery room and learned that the baby wasn't born with one.
Jesus told Paul not to expect to find him in one.
The duck didn't and hit its head.
My Heart
Sometimes my heart is to the right, or even completely under my arm, as if it were growing hair. At times I feel it in my elbow, near the funny bone, I'm afraid it might take root there, I'd no longer be able to put them (my elbows) on the table, I prefer that it drop a little further down. Then I see it beating under my wrist, in the spot where palmists locate the line of longevity. Sometimes, it's rare, it reaches the ends of the fingers, the pulp. But it never stays there for long. Then it comes back up, and, if I'm not careful, it travels unforeseen distances; I have to search for it and find it under a kidney, one of my nuts or the root of a hair.
That's why I'm going to the doctor.
O my heart, if only you'd be more quiet.
Paralogies
That it gets ready, far from, the what has to be said, then the echoes that to the cock-a-doodle-dos of an innate, but laughably long card the limits reply, reply. It's midnight. Some write, some dream. The ink flows through the fingers of the moon in its coaches of algebras. Next to, almost, thereabouts, the stopover point is announced by the blatant chimes of a five-franc piece. It's still noon. Time hasn't changed since the Silurian age. It's barely changed. Barely: just enough to no longer become a troglodyte.
Little For Nothing
I was in the midst of writing when I got tripped up in a litotes. It lay on the ground, feeding on the new goo of blue hue, to embue, too, the zoo's poo-poo with dew, to truly view the flue, to rue, moo, coo, and even mew.
The Hen with the Feline
This hen wanted a cat. She was a real hen, gallinaceous, a poultry hen, farmyard poultry, a farmyard of the Beauce, of the Beauce in France. This hen was named Amélie and her man, the rooster, his name was Clarion: a real schmuck. He scratched the mud while clucking, gesticulations meant to lead some fool under his feet so he could pork her. What Amélie wanted was a cat, a purring cat that she could pet and that would mew for its chow.
She would have had it fixed: no fuss.
But there it is: no cat consented. The melancholic Amélie wondered if she wouldn't choose her pet among some other species; she hesitated between the earthworm and homo sapiens.
Submitted July 30, 2018 at 06:11PM by MilkbottleF https://ift.tt/2K7mIRG
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