Illegal aliens stealing our jobs
Never forget. [x]
It doesn’t exactly fit, but Derek doesn’t really handle fireworks well. And Laura’s kind of mean.
“Do you know what day it is?” Laura says, parading into Derek’s room.
“Summer?” Derek replies sullenly, not looking up from his book.
“No, stupid,” Laura giggles, yanking Derek’s book out of his hands and making him look up at her. “It’s the Fourth of July.”
“Which is summer,” Derek says, jumping off the bed to make a grab for his book. Laura holds it above her head out of his reach.
“But it’s the Fourth of July,” Laura says again, dancing away from Derek’s reaching hands.
“So what?” Derek gripes, giving up on getting the book back from Laura until she wants him to have it.
“So there are going to be fireworks. Which everyone will be watching from our porch this year.”
“Because we moved to Beacon Hills, I know,” Derek says with a frown. “Mom got me a pair of earmuffs to wear. She said it would be loud.”
Laura giggles. “But only babies need earmuffs to help control their hearing, Der. You’re not a baby, not like Natalie.”
Derek knows exactly what Laura is trying to do, and he’s not going to fall for it this time. “Mom told me to wear them, and only bad wolves disobey the Alpha.”
Laura sighs, holding out his book and giving him an exasperated look. “Fine, Der. Don’t have a sense of adventure.”
Derek snatches the book back and glares.
By the time it’s dark outside, Derek has reevaluated wearing the earmuffs. His older cousins are excited about getting to watch the fireworks from the front porch this year instead of going into town, and Aunt Beth has made cheese dip and salsa to go with the chips as a late night snack.
“Mom?” Derek says, walking quietly into the kitchen where is mom is making last minute preparations.
“What is it, Derek?” she replies, turning away from the counter to meet his gaze.
Derek shuffles his feet nervously. “Laura said that wearing earmuffs ruins the fireworks experience.” Laura had phrased it a little differently, but Derek figures it’s close enough to the truth to pass under the radar. Also, his mom doesn’t have much sympathy for their sibling rivalries.
“Wearing them won’t ruin the experience, honey,” she says quietly, moving across the kitchen to place a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll just make it easier to enjoy them without overwhelming your ears.”
Derek straightens up defiantly. “I can control my hearing fine without them.”
His mom bends over to put her face on the same level as his. “You’re sure you don’t want to have them with you? Just in case?”
“No,” Derek says firmly, looking straight into his mom’s eyes in acknowledgement of her concern.
“Alright. But if it gets to be too much, don’t feel bad about going to get the earmuffs, okay?”
“Okay,” Derek agrees readily, skipping out onto the porch to join the rest of the family.
Ten minutes later Derek is happily crunching down on his fifth handful of chips (Aunt Beth’s salsa is amazing) when the first boom sounds, lighting up the sky in a bright shower of green sparks and rattling the house. It’s a lot louder than Derek expected, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.
At least, it’s nothing he can’t handle until two rockets shoot up into the sky at the same time, twin explosions magnifying each other several times over. Derek fights not to put his hands over his ears, but it’s a lost cause.
After the yellow and red sparks have faded from the sky, Derek sees four smoke trails leading up to the next set of fireworks, and that’s it. He can take one, he can even take two, but four is too much.
He doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle about dashing back inside and climbing the stairs up to his room, despite how much Laura will tease him about it in the morning. He almost manages to reach the earmuffs he left lying on the bed before the sound from the four fireworks reaches him. As it is, the sound wave rushes through the house and shakes the floor.
Derek drops the muffs and falls to the floor, whining and covering his ears. The next wave of noise from the fireworks comes without much pause, and Derek clamps his hands down over his ears harder and curls up in a ball, trying to protect his ears. He knows, logically, that he should be trying to put on the earmuffs; that they’ll block the sound more effectively than his hands, but the space between the booming explosions is practically non-existent now, and he his instincts won’t let him leave his ears unprotected for even the two seconds he would need to cover them with the muffs. So instead he stays curled up on the carpet, whining and growling in an attempt to block the noise.
It’s how his mother finds him twenty minutes later when the fireworks have ended.
“Oh, Derek,” she says, kneeling beside him on the ground and pulling him into a hug.
“Sorry, mom,” he says, voice rough.
“Not your fault, honey,” she replies, running her hands through his hair and helping him onto the bed.
Derek nods, clinging to her like a lifeline. She sits next to him on the bed, whispering into his hair and rubbing his arms until he’s calm enough to lie back on his own.
“Are you going to be okay in here for the night?” she asks. “You could always stay with your dad and me.”
“If you say so, honey,” she says,giving his hands one last squeeze before walking to the door. “But next time, try not to let Laura bait you so easily.”
Derek blushes and lowers his eyes. “Yes, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Derek,” she says, turning off the lights and closing his door.
on a scale of one to invade russia in the winter
how bad is your idea
rejecting hitler from art school
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.
Reblogging for the comment
How old are you?
How long have you been ten?
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN
Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty knew that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash’s eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”
Holy shit this is beautiful.
Tumblr…I love you so much.
Reblogging for the comments. All of my yes!
top 10 must-visit destinations:
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
- my bed
is this meant to be a testament to how lazy you are or are you trying to seduce someone i can’t tell
Omg I am dying. Literally one of these daily.