Venho humildemente apresentar para vocês Heartlines - A Princesa e o Dragão
Calliope, princesa do Império Marfont, nunca achou que precisaria fugir de casa, apesar de pensar diferente de seus pais. Andarill, o menor dragãozinho de sua ninhada, sempre soube que iria ter que sair de casa, mesmo sendo o mais fraco dos jovens à sua volta. Porém, quando a princesa fugitiva e o dragão curioso se encontram no meio do caminho, uma nova amizade floresce. Juntos, eles aprendem que a vida nem sempre é do jeito que eles foram ensinados, e que viver não se resume em cumprir expectativas, mas sim em criar seu lugar no mundo, mesmo quando todos dizem que não é possível. Encontrar família, mesmo quando não se tem o mesmo sangue. E, principalmente, lutar para proteger o que é certo, mesmo que você precise fazer sacrifícios.
ISSO MESMO MEUS LINDOS!! É O MEU LIVRO! QUE EU ESCREVI!!! E QUE EU ESTOU FINALMENTE LANÇANDO!!!
Ele tem aventura, magia, rebelião adolescente (hue), found family trope, e, honestamente, tudo o que os jovens adultos de hoje sonham em fazer. Posso ser meio suspeita pra falar, mas recomendo muito xD
E AINDA NÃO ACABOU!! Se você estiver pelas bandas de São Paulo, capital esse mês, você está MAIS DO QUE CONVIDADO para o evento de lançamento!!
Venha se juntar a mim no lindo jardim da Casa das Rosas, e aproveitar pra tomar um café ou um chá enquanto lê sua própria cópia autografada de Heartlines!! Será dia 12/04/2023, a partir das 18H no endereço abaixo:
Av. Paulista, 37
Bela Vista, São Paulo - SP
Estou muito feliz por poder finalmente compartilhar com o mundo essa história, e agredeço de coração à todos que fizeram parte dessa jornada!
Espero vê-los lá, e, se você não conseguir ir, não se preocupe! Você pode pedir seu exemplar pelo site da Grupo Editorial Atlântico, no link abaixo:
Did you just legitimately tell me that a person who draws wolf ass is more competent than a dude who spent 8+ years in a university to give you your lung transplant?
doctors are bullshit and furry artists perform an infinitely more valuable service to society compared to them
It took doctor’s like 10 years to diagnose what was wrong with me, some insisting I was faking for attention while a furry artist I knew just went “that sounds like crohn’s” after hearing me complain once and ended up being right
Also I can’t go to a doctor and ask them to draw Rouge the Bat wider than she is tall with tits to match, now can I
[ID: a comic illustrating the above thread as if it was happening in a theater. The users are mostly shaped like their icons, pukicho is a pikachu and hokuto-ju-no-ken is a gengar. The last panel is gengar looks back where a speech bubble comes out of the crowd to say, “you could if you weren’t a fucking coward.” /end]
So sorry! We were having some manufacturing difficulties and delivery issues.
Someone took a bite out one of our blenders and a few have gone missing. We have no idea who took them or why. (Yes we do but it's fine, they tend to be returned and we have generous donors who send us more anyway!)
But we have the update now! Please handle with caution as the sharp edges may cause injury.
*Slaps on goggles*
*pitches update right at your face*
Sad Pathetic Wet Cat Celine who's actually a sad pathetic wet cat, found by Polytrix. (Part 16)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Silence sits heavy amongst everyone as the words from the Demon's mouth register in their ears.
The Zoey and the Mira stare at her, their own mouths open and closing like fish out of water, eyes wide. It's clear they are still processing. The Demon herself, looking sheepish as she waits.
Celine still has no idea what is going on. Which is basically just her life now.
"Rumi...what do you mean?" the Zoey asks, her voice barely above a whisper, her brown eyes starting to glisten.
The Demon sighs, her own now on Celine, who she starts to pet gently, as if to ground herself.
"Believe it or not, Cece and I more or less lived with my weird and strange behaviour like it was normal growing up." She says, softly rubbing her little ears.
She likes when they do that. It's a strange feeling but...comforting. She couldn't stop the purring if she wanted to.
It seems to help ease the tension of the body under her paws, the Mira relaxing slightly, bringing her closer as if asking for more.
"I barely remember much, it was so long ago but I do remember she used to just let me be...weird." the Demon continues, a small sad smile on her face, brown eyes shimmering a faint yellow.
"Weird how? Like how you are at home sometimes?" the Zoey asks, scratching Celine under her chin, making her purrs go up in volume just a bit.
She really like the scratches. She almost feels like she can fall asleep.
Almost.
"Like the closet nesting thing?" the Mira asks, her own chin on top of Celine's head now.
She really likes this position, she's even starting to find the crushing weight of all of them squeezing her tiny self lovely.
She is starting to feel overwhelmed just a little bit. She's not used to this much...affection...all at once.
"Yes, though I'm not sure how much of the closet thing is just...a thing we continued to do or if it was something my demon instincts actually wanted."
Do they mean the whole bundle of different smelling stuff in the dark hole in...apparently her...area of the Den?
Why call it nesting? They're not birds.
"Anyway, besides my patterns, I never used to hide my more...feral self at home. Of course in public I had to keep my composure and hold back on my instincts but at home..." the Demon says and sighs again.
"So she just let you crawl on the walls?"
'Rumi! Get down from there! If you fall you're going to get hurt!'
'But Cece, I'm fine. And the drop isn't that far.'
'How did you even get up there?'
'I used my claws!'
'Used your...well that explains the tiny holes everywhere. Hey little cub?'
'Yes, Cece?'
'Why don't we go outside for a bit. Let Cece teach you how to climb trees instead of the fridge.'
"She let me do a whole bunch of stuff that would have been a little hard to explain to you two." the Demon says, bringing Celine back to the present.
This vision was a little clearer, tho just barely and Celine can only just make out the faint outline of a small figure sitting on something relatively high up and...that's about it.
It also hurt more, which wasn't fun. If this keeps happening she's not sure if she can handle it.
"Remember that room Cece strictly told you to never enter?" the Demon asks.
Wait what room? When did she do that?
"The one that we caught you sneaking in and out of? And you almost chewed our heads off when we tried to corner you about it?" the Mira says, voice deadpan, as if she's still annoyed about that fact.
"Yeeeeeeah...that's my playroom."
"I'm sorry your what?" the Zoey asks and even Celine is intrigued. What's a play room?
The Demon's patterns shimmer a light shade of pink as she continues to fiddle with Celine's ears.
"It's my old bedroom where all my stuff from my childhood was stored just before you guys came." She says.
"We knew that with me having to...suppress my instincts meant I would be struggling so...I needed outlets." She adds.
Celine squirms as she tries to wriggle out the restrictive hold of her companions. She wants to see all their faces.
She can smell all the conflicting emotions and she wants to help. But she can't do that when she's squished between them like this.
They don't seem to mind though and she just thunks her head against the Mira's neck for the time being.
"Whenever I was stressed out or very emotional and I couldn't just...wild out...I would go into the play room and just...weird out." the Demon says.
"I had a bunch of chew toys from my teething days that Cece kept."
'Okay...so, what we learned is that baby demon fangs can chew through teething rings very easily.'
'Ah.'
'Which should have been obvious considering how you knawed through all our furniture.'
'Ah bah.'
'Correct. So, me and you are going to take a trip to the pet store.'
'Eeeee!'
'At least one of us is excited.'
"Chew toys! Like actual squeaky dog toys?"
"Oh yeah, Cece hated them."
Squeak.
'Rumi.'
Squeak.
'No. I'm not changing my mind.'
Squeak, squeak!
'No. We went yesterday and I've got a lot to do today. We can go tomorrow.'
Squeak, Squeak, Squeak!
'Rumi. No. Stop it.'
Squeaksqueaksqueaksqueaksqueaksqueak-!
'Oh for the love of-Alright! Fine! Fine! You win just...stop squeezing that cursed thing. My head can't take it.'
'Yay! Thank you Cece! I'll go get ready!'
"There's also my scratching post-"
"No way you actually have a scratching post. You really are a cat aren't you."
"Hey!"
'Rumi, little cub, I love you but we need do something about those tiny knives of yours.'
grrr...
'When I asked you stop scratching me that wasn't an invitation for you to start hurting the furniture.'
grrrr!
'Yes yes, I know. Now up we go. Another trip to the pet store, come on.'
purrrr...
'Maybe the hardware store too. Perhaps we can salvage your latest victim's corpse.'
"-point is! I couldn't exactly let these things be known if I was to keep my demon heritage a secret." the Demon says and honestly, Celine wants to cry because ow, these visions hurt...
Why can't she see anything and why is the voices loud and incoherent! Why have them if they do nothing but hurt her!
"Is that where you disappeared to all the time?" the Zoey asks and the Demon nods.
She then suddenly puts both hands on Celine and lifts her up. She whines in surprise at being moved and removed from the warmth that was smoothing her so nicely.
The Demon shifts until she's off the Mira's lap, sitting beside her and holding Celine to her neck, a quiet but deep rumble trembling through Celine who can't help but return it.
"Yes. Well...at least early on, I did. I just...I didn't know how act...normal...when people were in my home. It was always just me and Cece." the Demon says and Celine can feel the shuddering breath she tries to hide.
"It was hard. An adjustment that had me very angry and frustrated. The one place I could just be me...my safe place..." the Demon's breath hitches and she buries her face in Celine's tiny body.
She's crying. Silently, but Celine can feel the wetness. She doesn't like that. She purrs a little louder, hoping it will help. She puts her paws on her face and nuzzles against it.
She still doesn't understand what they're talking about. Not fully at least but she knows it's extremely difficult and she's somehow both involved and apparently responsible for a lot of things regarding them.
She really wants to cry about all the confusion she's feeling and faced with but she also wants to comfort all of them and she can't because she's small and can't talk and she wouldn't even know what to say even if she could-
"And I know, I know it's not your fault but I couldn't help but resent sharing our space you and I'm so sorry. I just-"
"Rumi..." the Mira cuts her off but the Demon shakes her head, rubbing her teary face all over Celine's fur.
She doesn't know how to feel about this but she's helpless in every way.
"No! Don't tell me it's okay! It's not!"
The Zoey surges forward and crushes the two of them plus Celine once again in the middle in a tight hug.
"I just wanted to be me..." the Demon cries and Celine feels her tiny kitten heart break, her own whines accompanying those sorrowful sobs.
'I don't like it.'
'Rumi, we talked about this, it's for your own protection.'
'I know. I just hate that now I can't even be free in my own home.'
'I know, little cub, I'm sorry it has to be like this.'
'You sure we can't just tell her? Maybe she'll understand. Maybe they both will, when we find our third.'
'We don't know that. I can't take that chance.'
'Can we still camp out in our spot, in your closet?'
'Rumi...'
'Please, Cece...it's the only place now where I don't have to hide.'
So, thanks for lending me the blender. I don't think I needed it too much, but a quick use and my thing was done. There, you can have it as a treat, it only exists because of you anyway.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/76920396
You can go back to torturing poor kitty Celine
My own blender....used against me....OH THE HUMANITY!
It hurt so good. I was snot crying you monster!
*grabs camera and sticks my face in it*
HEY! YOU! YES YOU READING THIS! GO READ THE FIC! DO IT!
congrats to polytrix for becoming the most tagged poly ship on all of AO3, beating out another kpop boyband in the process and presumably making the honmoon even gayer stronger.
also check out centreoftheselights' AO3 Ship Stats: 2024 Bonus Lists which has a list of the top 100 poly ships. It's what made me curious about where polytrix would be!
I am watching a mouse make a series of what I can only describe as Fuck Around Choices, and the Find Out is VERY excited to continue this little experiment.
I'm watching my parent's dog Arwen up at their house.
Arwen (Kelpie, 60lbs) is 15(ish?) now and while she has a high prey drive and history of successful hunts, she's also 15 and doesn't give many fucks.
I also have my dogs.
Charleston (Sighthound/pointer mix, 50lbs) is 10 and another proactive carnivore, but he's also JUST finished making his Perfect Couch Nest and doesn't want to get up.
...Herschel (Corgi, 40lbs and extremely tube-shaped) is 5 and has no Prey Drive, but he does have a PLAY Drive, which i found out last time I was up here and found him, having cornered a baby bunny, play-bowing and shaking his ass at it because he just had a Great Time chasing it, now it was the bunny's turn to chase HIM!
Even though all three of these assholes spent all day dragging me hither and yon through the rockies, he still has the endurance of an athenian messenger and still looking for a reason to careen around the house at Mach Fuck.
A Reason has Arrived.
My parent's house is the median age of a US senator, and every year about this time, the local mice start experimenting with sneaking into the house for warmth and snacks.
At 11:14 PM, I noticed a single gray mouse had entered, and was exploring the far side of the living room, which is fully accessible to the dogs, but not in their immediate line of sight.
About a minute in, Charleston notices, but his sole reaction is to look at it, then make very pointed eye contact with me as if to say "Are You Seeing This Shit? Disrespectful." and then curl deeper into his couch nest.
Arwen is very asleep, snoring and farting.
Shortly after that, Herschel noticed The Mouse, mostly because it had meandered into the main part of the living room, possibly lured in by the kibble-heavy scent of Dog Farts.
It had, actually, wandered to within two feet of where Herschel was splooted on the floor, dozing, directly in front of his nose.
Now, I don't now much about Mouse vision, but on average, Herschel is very nearly the same color as my parent's carpet, and does very much resemble a faux-fur throw pillow in shape and texture. Perhaps he is well-camoflaged. Perhaps it is full of tiny rodent hubris.
It is very quiet- quiet as a mouse, even- but it must still smell of one, because the first thing I see is Herschel's nose twitch.
His eyes slowly crack open
Cross to focus
Then very quickly open as he recognizes the shape as A Potential New Friend!
His Nubbin begins to wag
One hind foot goes up
The the other
and he slowly rises to a mere half inch above his previous elevation, and begins to slowly play-stock the mouse.
This is not the subtle maneuver of a camouflaged predator, but the hyper-visible way that Corgi and other herding dogs go "I'm Gonna Getchya! I'm Gonna Getchya!" at sheep and cattle and birthday parties full of toddlers in an attempt to get thin to break into a run so The Chasey Game can begin.
The Mouse noticed that it had been Noticed (TM) but to it's credit, it did not run, but instead was very casually search-ambling back to whence it came, it's ears pointed directly behind it, listening to The Find Out.
Props to the mouse, even though Herschel had significantly closed the distance between them, it was maintaining it's facade well.
...but it has now made the peculiar descision to shelter inside the Wobbler Kong, a hard plastic and heavy toy that is in fact exceptionally bite-proof and may have kibbles in it.
The reason there may be Kibbles in it is that I feed Herschel all his meals in the Wobbler to keep him from bolting his food and/or choking himself, because in order the get the kibbles back out, he must do smack the shit out of the wobbler like so:
He's currently standing, staring at the wobbler, waiting for his New Bestie to come out, but I can see the gears of impatience turning and he may decide to accelerate the mouse's descision-making process.
The reason I am allowing this to happen is that The Mouse is unlikely to come to any harm beyond some environmentally-adaptive trauma, and I am Hoping it hauls ass back to the compost bin where most of them live and tells the colony that there's a very large fucked up little man in the house, fuck that shit, let's stay out here.
I don't know if Psyops work on mice but I feel like it's worth a shot.
After a few minutes of waiting for the mouse to come out, Herschel was getting concerned (bored) and stood up all the way, little paw raised, ready to smack the fun back into this poor creature.
"Ah!" I told him.
As much crime Herschel commits, he's actually quite biddable, and stopped, little paw raised, staring at me before slowly lowering it.
"Good job!" I tell him, and he wiggles with joy. "Figure it out!"
Herschel returns his attention to the wobble, circling and sniffing it with small boofs of excitement, looking bac at me for approval eery so often, before giving the bottom of Wobble the smallest, gentlest push with his nose, which doesn't make it rock, but does scoot it along the carpet.
"Okay!" I tell him, and for the last few minutes he has been slowly scooting the mouse inside the wobble across the living room floor an inch at a time.
This has, however, made charlie actually sit up and watch, so I may need to intervene soon.
I mean my whole life is a funny story but in this particular case, it's funny because while I do not have a broken ankle, I do have a pretty severe sprain, and a new appreciation for the horrors of Wordle.
I'll get there.
Anyway, when we last left off, Herschel was doing the Canine equivalent of Playing Cars with the wobble, scooting it around the living room with his nose, which was enough to wake up both Charlie and Arwen, who were squinting at him with matching expressions of "What is the Ginger Idiot up to now?"
Eventually, Herschel got distracted and paused to get a drink, and I started to get up to rescue the mouse, but before I could walk over to the far side of the Living Room, the mouse made the first move, and stuck it's face out of the treat hole to see if the coast was clear.
...in full view of Charleston, and in the following millisecond, I watched his body and Soul become possessed with the millennia-old instincts of his sighthound ancestors, and the more recent instruction of the cats who raised him, and in a beautifully fluid motion that inspired the poets of old, launched himself out of his decadent nest of couch pillows and quilts, up over the coffee table and about 15 feet across the living room to POUNCE on the Wobble and Mouse.
Fortunately, for the mouse, the Wobble isn't the easiest thing to grab, even if you have opposable thumbs, and instead of acquiring a late-night snack, Charlie instead pressure-launched the wobble across the living room and into the kitchen, where it proceeded to pinball around between the cabinets and dinner table.
Herschel, who loves activities and is also a jealous little brat who hates it when Charlie so much as looks at his toys, retaliated by taking a flying leap onto Charlie's face and the two began to wrassle aggressively while Knocking the wobble and everything else in the kitchen around, including me as I tried to grab the wobble from between them.
Charlie broke away from his brother via the complex tactical strategy of "Use limb superiority to smack him repeatedly in the face", and sprinted out of the kitchen across the house with the look of an animal In Hot Pursuit, Herschel and myself on his heels. When Charlie came to a halt at the back door, there was no mouse to be found, much to everyone's bafflement.
I hear jingling back in the living room.
I return to find Arwen has gotten up, walked the seven and a half feet to where the Wobble is in the hall now, and laid back down, both big Puppy Crime paws on either of the Wobble.
I am walking back, because usually she just wants to lick kibble dust and the occasional forgotten green bean out of it, and am fairly sure the Wobble is Devoid of Mouse, who has escaped to relay news of the modern wolf pack inside the house.
Instead, Arwen opens her mouth wide, turns her entire head sideways, clamps onto the top of the wobble, and twists her neck.
She's learned how to unscrew it.
I sprint back and manage to grab the wobble from her and the other two canines now Baying for Rodent Blood at my feet, and carefully peek inside.
The Mouse is still within the Wobble, plastered to the far side of the container, extraordinarily flat, as though trying to become one with the hard plastic walls. Deciding that it was Traumatized Enough, I taped a paper towel over the opening to trap it but not create an airtight seal and took it out to the yard.
I was about to release it when I looked back to see all three dogs at the door, watching every motion with a laser focus, and realized that they'd scent-trail it back to the main colony. I decided I didn't really feel like dealing with the consequences of Arwen and Charlie teaching Herschel that pinkie mice are made of meat, and opted instead to take the mouse to my car, and drive it a few miles up the road to the nearest meadow for release.
It's a lovely October Night. Temperature in the low 50's, full moon, and the wind blowing through the turning leaves when I get to the meadow, and I take my time going down the embankment from the gravel parking lot of the city park, a bit into the tall grass near the creek that cuts through the meadow, and carefully unscrew the wobble. The mouse is still braced to the inside, so I set the pieces down and wait for it to cautiously start sniffing and delicately step out of the toy, stare up at me for a moment, and then scamper off into the grass.
I look up at the big yellow moon, and for a moment, all is well with the universe.
then there is not quite a noise, and not quite a motion but more of a Disturbance In The Force on the edge of my peripheral vision, and I slowly turn to look.
Also enjoying the Lovely October Night and the associated seasonal changes to its anatomy is one of the last true Megafauna of the Ice Age, which have been making a big comeback in Colorado of late, but I had not realized they'd come out of the mountains and into city limits:
The Bull Moose is maybe 60 feet away from me, and still making up its mind about how it's going to respond to this invasion of it's personal space.
Slowly, I back up the way I came.
The Moose chooses violence, as is it's right, and charges.
I am possessed by ancient instincts much like Charlie was and scramble back up the embankment, into the parking lot, and sprint for the car, which has already endured one moose attack and lived.
Unfortunately, just before I get to the car, I eat shit on the loose gravel, roll, ans slam my ankle into a granite boulder at the edge of the lot with considerable force.
Adrenaline carries me through, and I get back up, run the remaining five very painful steps to the car, and get inside. I start it up, through the brights on to dazzle the moose, and prepare to make a very inadvisable reversal out of the lot.
The moose is only halfway up the embankment, staring with a dull disappointment into my brights, having concluded from my spectacular lack of coordination that I am no threat to it, and it turns back down the small hill.
It's my left ankle, so I can still drive, but I still spend two hours in the Urgent Care to get it looked at and braced, because there are people having Much Worse nights ahead of me, and decide to be grateful that for all my other problems, I am not having their problems, even if there is no Wifi.
I get home, all three dogs stomp as hard as they can on my boot to make sure it's good and sturdy, and I pass out in the recliner like my Dad for a solid five hours, and then got woken up again because Herschel and Arwen were having an argument about who was going to sleep on my leg to fix it next.
Charlie has won.
---
If you'd like to support me and the Gallus Foundation For Fucked Up Ankles, please consider donating to my Ko-fi or subscribing to my Patreon to pre-order the Family Lore: A Lineage Of Absurdity book I'm writing.
So I had to go back and get the Wobble so Herschel could have breakfast, and while poking around in the grass, my sister texted me.
Sister: So I saw the mouse story???
Me: oh god don't tell mom.
Sister: oh no, they'd worry too much.
Sister: ok but if I tell you something you can't tell them, okay?
Me: now what
Sister: were you up at North Shields Pond? The one with the turtle sign?
Me: yeah?
Sister: okay that's just spooky.
Sister: so you know that huge dent in the back of Beyond? (my car, formerly her car)
Me: Yes, it's how I find it in parking lots?
Sister: never tell mom but I didn't back into a Ballard.
Me: oh my God.
Sister: I think it was like 2019, but Arwen had cornered a mouse that climbed into her old puzzle ball so I took it out to the meadow there to release it, and it was suuuuper late at night so I didn't see the moose either...
Me: what the fuck
Sister: I mean I didn't eat shit and fuck up my ankle but that thing hit the car harder than that time I got hit by that pickup.
Me: what the fuck kind of Bethesda-ass glitchy specific trigger videogame cutscene bullshit is this?
Sister: I DON'T KNOW???? MAYBE THE MICE ALL HAVE A TELEPATHIC LINK TO THAT MOOSE SPECIFICALLY??
small brain “hotel california is about drugs” normal brain “hotel california is about the music industry” giant brain “hotel california is meant to be taken completely literally and The Eagles are still trapped there”
“If I had time travel I’d kill Hitler” “If I had time travel I’d stop my favourite politician getting assassinated” you’re all thinking way too small. If I had time travel I’d stop Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin from dying on the moon due to Soviet sabotage, kicking off the Great Nuclear War and devastating half of the planet.
This is such a classic trainwreck post that has the vibes of a 2014 screenshot posted to Pinterest and then the last addition is just last Tuesday I can’t even
speaking of peeing the bed it's been long enough that i can tell this story publicly. in high school i went to a party at some house with no adults, as you sometimes would, and at the end of the night like 10 people all clonked out together in the same bed. fully clothed, one of those teenage moments where you're like wow heehee how rule-breaking, because sure a lot of our parents wouldn't like us sleeping in a bed with a bunch of other teenagers and no adult supervision blah blah. fond memories. anyway.
i'm an extremely light sleeper, so i barely slept, and sometime around 6 am, i woke up to a girl totally panicking, very quietly, because she peed the bed in her sleep. and listen. this wasn't a group of mean kids by any measure. but there's no level of kindness or understanding in the world that will make peeing the bed when you're 17, surrounded by people you only sort of know, a gentle blow.
so i sat up and she was like "oh my god" and I signaled at her to be absolutely silent and I said I'd be right back. And I crawled over everyone and out of the bed like a stupid cat.
and the thing is, by senior year i wasn't getting bullied much anymore. i was generally pretty well liked by my peers, but, if this makes sense, people still didn't always expect very much from me. i was still figuring out how to mask (autistic) and i still often said or did something that made everyone remember i'm weird and they'd just be like "well. that's story for you. i guess." and for the most part i'd become pretty secure in that.
so what i'm saying is i had nothing to lose and this girl had everything to lose.
so i went downstairs and i made tomato soup. and by "made" i mean i put a whole can of tomato soup in a too-small mug and microwaved it until it was lukewarm so as to be convincingly "made" but not so hot to burn someone.
and then i walked back upstairs, and no longer like a cat, i clumsily "attempted" to crawl back into bed, loudly lost my balance, and spilled tomato soup all over the girl and her lap and several other people's laps and heads and the mattress.
everyone woke up confused and anguished and i was like, "oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just got really hungry and it's all i could find."
and everyone immediately accepted with absolutely no further questions that I would go downstairs, make tomato soup at 6 am,and bring it back to bed. everyone just begrudgingly climbed onto the floor and went back to sleep while I put the bedding right into the laundry.
i don't even know this girl's name. i only remembered this story recently because i'm in my hometown for a few months and recently a high school acquaintance said, "hey. do you remember spilling soup on everyone after prom? why did you do that?" and for a moment i genuinely did not and i stared at them completely dumbfounded while the memory loaded and then i started laughing too hard to answer for 2 minutes.
the best part is i can tell this story, and even if it reaches the people who were there, none of them will know which one of them peed the bed. thanks to tomato soup.
people keep pointing out how bewildering this must have been from her point of view and it's making me laugh to tears. i never considered it. i had such a solid plan in my head. i went downstairs to find something to dump on the bed and when i saw the tomato soup i knew it was perfect because it has a distinct smell that would cover anything else and a color which would do the same.
i was so focused on my mission that in the 14 years since i've never once considered what it must have been like for her to decide to trust me because she had no other options, sit there in anguish for three minutes, and then watch me walk back into the room and dump soup on everyone.
