Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2018-12-14 10:23 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2018-12-14 10:23 pm
get your words out { 2019 } challenge tracking
Directory:
PERSONAL GOALS:Finish Outstanding Requests COMPLETE Personal Reading List Prep Paladin for Publishing Complete GYWO Yahtzee COMPLETE Finish The Empathy Quotient (Draft 1) IN PROGRESS
OFFICIAL CHALLENGES:2/9/18: Built to Last Challenge COMPLETE 2/9-10/18: Roll the Dice Challenge COMPLETE 2/21-28/18: End It Challenge COMPLETE 3/10-16/18 Catch Up Challenge COMPLETE 3/24/19 Challenge: Who Said It? COMPLETE 4/30/19 Stop, Drop, Write Challenge COMPLETE 4/30/19 April Challenge: Choose a Title COMPLETE 5/19-25/19 7 Days, 7 Stories COMPLETE June 2019 Mid-Year Marathon COMPLETE 6/12/19 Time Management Challenge COMPLETE July 2019 Mid-Year Marathon, Pt. 2 COMPLETE 7/1/19 Letter Writing Challenge COMPLETE 7/12/19 8D20 Challenge COMPLETE 7/31/19 July Challenge: I Wood if I Could COMPLETE 8/13-14/19 Two Day Challenge COMPLETE 10/17-21/19 Nano Prep Challenge COMPLETE 12/4/19 Forkful of Spoonerisms COMPLETE 12/4/19 Five Minutes Challenge COMPLETE 12/14/19 Stop, Drop, Write Challenge COMPLETE 12/26/19 December Challenge: In the Presence of Presents COMPLETE
personal goal: finish outstanding requests | 19/19 | COMPLETE
personal goal: reading list | 20/42
personal goal: prep paladin for publishing
2/9/18 | built to last challenge | 782 | COMPLETE
Reclining this way for hours has been more than productive in his opinion, allowing his mine to slip away as Netflix plays
Episode after episode of his favorite TV show. There are likely more proactive things he could be doing to manage his
Tempestuous feelings, but he finds this is the method that matches most with his mood, at least from what he can
Infer. He wants to wallow in his misery. He doesn’t think anyone should hold that against him. Robert, his best friend, is
Nesting nearby as well, willing to indulge him, at least for right now. “How many seasons have you gone through again?”
Christopher glances back at him, and shakes his head. “The number of seasons isn’t the point. It’s the quality time of
Rest and relaxation that’s important.” “Are you actually relaxing?” Robert asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or did you just take
Extra helpings of pissy crybaby with your Wheaties this morning?” If Christopher had more energy in his body, he might
Take his friends implications as a form of disrespect. But given the drained state of everything that he’s feeling, he can’t
Insist that his pain be given the commiserate amount of sympathy. “What would you do, if you found yourself standing
Near the precipice of the greatest moment of your life, only to have it ripped out from under you by the love of your life
Careening off into the distance with another guy?” There’s a brief, pitiful face. “They didn’t even have the decency to
Run off to a chapel in Vegas or some shit – they stole the freaking ceremony, man. I had to stand and watch them pledge
Eternal happiness to each other when she should have been pledging eternal happiness to me!” Robert huffs a breath,
Trying to figure out a way to talk around that when admittedly, yeah. It is pretty shitty, but Christopher couldn’t keep
Insisting on wallowing in sadness forever because one woman ripped his heart out and stomped all over it. He had to
Nut up, put his heart back in his chest, and get back on the horse. And he wasn’t going to get on the horse if he kept
Closing himself off to the rest of the world. The moment required a moment of drastic intervention. Robert stood up,
Rising to the challenge presented to him, and flew open the curtains on the living room’s apartment windows. His friend
Escaped the bright beam of light by rolling away into the couch, hissing like a vampire who’s just been exposed to the
Timeless weakness of sunlight. “What the fuck man!?!?” “You are getting your shit together today, dude,” Robert states,
Ignoring Christopher’s discomfort and reaching down to pick up the various garbage scattered around them, in a feeble
Notion of thinking that maybe if the space was clean, it might inspire him somehow. “You’re going to get up. You will
Clean yourself up, you will burn those fucking clothes that you’ve been sitting in for like … two weeks, and we’re going to
Rebound your ass into being a functional human being.” “Rebound my ass?” The question was a skeptical one at best,
Earning Robert an equally skeptical look, but Christopher hadn’t fully rebuked the idea yet, so he kept going, pushing
Through in an attempt to keep him going. “Yes. We’re going to have some fun, or get you laid, but I swear to God, man,
If you spend another day wasting your ass and watching Game of Thrones, I will stage an intervention. I will cancel your
Netflix account.” “Game of Thrones isn’t even on Netflix.” I don’t give a shit! That so isn’t the point, dude. The point is,
Chris, if you don’t start trying to live your life again, then she’s still winning. Do you want her to keep winning?” Silent,
Robert could tell that his face was being studied by his friend, his words being weighed for honesty and sincerity, for
Earnestness and openness, when Christopher pushes himself up into a sitting position and nods. “I’m gonna go shower.
“Thank God,” Robert sighs, burying his face in his hands. “I’m gonna call the guys and see who can go out with us.”
Instantly, there seems to be a bit more of a pep in Christopher’s step, and he starts to make his way out of the room,
Nodding, before turning back to face Robert again. “Hey, dude?” “Yeah, man?” “Thanks. I needed that.” Robert smiles,
Cocking his head to the side with a shrug. “No problem. Always happy to help.”
2/9-10/18 | roll the dice challenge | goal: 3,362 | COMPLETE
DAY 2:
GRAND TOTAL: 3,640
2/21-28/19 | february challenge: end it | COMPLETED
TOTAL WORD COUNT: 1,732
3/10-16/18 | catch up challenge | goal: 3,885 | COMPLETE
GRAND TOTAL: 4,417
2019 | gywo yahtzee | running score: 250 | COMPLETE
3/24/19 | challenge: who said it? | 496 | COMPLETE
Cora raises an eyebrow at Scott, before glancing over and seeing the very intoxicated state of her boyfriend. She’s concerned, obviously, as Stiles isn’t normally one to drink excessively, which means something is obviously wrong, but for now that isn’t really the concern. She steps back to let Scott inside, gesturing to the couch.
“Put him on the couch for now.”
“Hey, babe,” Stiles says as he’s guided past her. “You look pretty today.”
“Thank you, Stiles.” She glances over to Scott. “What happened?”
Scott shrugs. “He had a bad day. He called me to meet him at the bar, but he was already wasted.”
Cora nods. “Well, I’ll make sure he’s okay. Thanks for bringing him home.”
“Anytime,” Scott gives her shoulder a squeeze as he moves past, and she lets him out, before heading back to her boyfriend. She sits him up enough so that she can move to sit under his head, letting his head rest on a pillow in her lap.
“Everything okay, Stiles?”
“Yeah.” He grins up at her, making a happy noise as her fingers start carding through his hair. “It was just a bad day.”
“Want to talk about it?”
There’s a moment of silence as he looks away, towards the iPad and books sitting on the coffee table. His hand reaches out, running a finger in the crack in the screen and his eyes widen like something terrible has happened.
“What happened to it?”
“I dropped it. That happened weeks ago, remember?”
“You have to be careful,” he sighs dramatically. “When the robots take over the world, they’re going to remember how you treated your iPad.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m sure they will. But I don’t think we’re anywhere close to a robot uprising.”
“You never know. The Terminator was sent back from 2029 and that’s only ten years away.”
“Terminator was a movie.”
“Skynet is already a thing. Alexa is in every home, listening to everything we say. They know, Cora.”
She laughs again, nodding as she does. “I will take your word for it.”
“Good. Because I’m very smart.”
“And a little paranoid.”
“Only a little. And usually I’m right.”
“You thought I was the darach.”
“That doesn’t count.”
She laughs. “Okay. Sure it doesn’t.”
He shifts onto his side, turning so that he’s facing her stomach more, before looking up at her. “Do you love me no matter what?”
She softens, before running her fingers through his hair again. “Always.”
“Today was a bad day.”
“We don’t have to talk about it now.” She reaches over to squeeze his hand softly. “We can talk about it tomorrow if you want to go to bed.”
“Yeah,” he says softly, though he doesn’t try and move right away. He stays where he is, his head in Cora’s lap. “In a minute.”
“Okay,” she says softly, before leaning forward to kiss the top of his head. “Take as long as you want.”
4/30/19 | stop drop write challenge | 297
The silence in the car after he says it is deafening. It's not that it's the fact that the plan is terrible. He knows that his co-conspirators likely came to that conclusion long before he did, but he's just realizing now that they all knew and have been humoring him.
" ... When did you guys all figure it out?"
"Like ... pretty much the minute you said it," the driver sighs, reaching down to rub his forehead. "You are not the best at planning, sir."
"So you were just going to let us go in there with a bad plan? Just let us get arrested."
"Of course not. We had a back up plan." This time the commentary is from the passenger's seat, and is head snaps around to meet her eyes.
"Were you going to fill me in on the back up plan?"
"No, not really."
His reaction is simply to let his mouth hang agape, to stare in confusion about the choices his life has thrust upon him, but there's nothing he could do about it now. "Why the hell not?"
"Because your specific role in the plan was to do just what you were originally planning on doing. Flailing around like an idiot while we did the actual work and got the job done."
He slumps back in the seat, trying to take all of that in. "So you don't need me at all, do you?"
"Oh no." A hand reaches down and rests against his knee in what is likely meant to be a comforting gesture. "You're a very important part of this plan. You're the distraction."
"I'm still going to get arrested, aren't I?"
"Possibly. But at least we'll have the money to bail you out."
4/30/19 | april challenge: choose a title | may contain small parts | 1,005
Steve Rogers is wearing his Concerned Face, as though this idea seems a little extreme for what he was originally planning, but Scott Lang is not one to be deterred. He knows that this is a mission he can pull off as subtly as possible, especially given his ability to shrink himself down to an unseen size.
“Trust me, Cap, this is a great option. I can totally handle it – in and out, no harm no foul.”
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable of getting the job done, Scott.” The way that Steve says it has a way of making Scott just effortless believe that this totally isn’t a question of his qualifications. He’s that good and Scott never gets sick of the Captain America pep talk. “It’s more that you’re asking us to ship you in the mail.”
Ahh, there’s the confusion. He holds up a hand and waves it off, because that’s not what he intended at all. “No, not … exactly. I’m saying we make it look like you sent me in the mail. You said it yourself, this thing is small enough to be carried out in your standard postal box right?”
“Yeah.” Sam Wilson also doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s much more evident on his face. “It’s about the size of a paperback.”
“Then I’m saying that I shrink down, you put me in a box, and deposit it at the facility with the rest of their regular mail. The office mail people will just transport me directly to the lab we need to get to, I carefully break out of the box, find what we’re looking for, pack it up in the aforementioned box, grab a dummy uniform and just walk it right out the door.”
“That sounds way too easy.” Sam glances over at Steve and shrugs. “But it’s your call, Cap.”
Steve still continues to look concerned. “Won’t you suffocate in the box?”
“Well … there’s math for that. Or we can include some strategically placed holes, as this box was supposed to be in the mail.”
Steve and Sam share another look between them, a silent conversation between the two men that comes with camaraderie, the kind of camaraderie that Scott wants to be a part of, a part of the team, a part of the gang, for reasons that he doesn’t know how to explain. He watches along, before holding out his hands next to him.
“C’mon, guys. You have a better idea?”
The two men exchange another look, before Steve shrugs. “Alright. We’ll give it a shot. But you gotta promise you’ll be careful, Scott. And call if you’re in need of any kind of back up.”
“Always, Cap. Don’t worry. I’ve got this handled.”
“Uh, Cap? I’m afraid I very much don’t got it.”
Scott Lang is currently running along the edge of a lab counter, trying to outrun the lab guards behind him. He knows he managed to underestimate the security of the room in question, and probably should have waited until he was sure that everyone was gone, but he was so eager to prove himself.
And that’s how he gets himself into these situations.
“Do you have the component?” Steve’s voice in his ear is urgent, and Scott pauses just long enough to launch himself into a nearby air vent before he responds.
“I do. It’s very, very tiny, but I have it.” He glances around, trying to orient himself. “I’m in one of the air ducts outside the lab, I’m going to need one of you to read the plans and guide me out.”
“Hang on.”
There’s some rustling on the other end of the mic and Scott doesn’t wait for them to sort things out before beginning to move. He starts heading in the direction of what he remembers being the back wall, readying himself to change direction at a moment’s notice.
“You said you’re in the ducts?”
“Yep,” Scott glances around, before peeking out through one of the vents. “I think I just passed another one of the labs.”
“Okay, keep going straight and you should hit the back wall. If you head to the left, there’s a vent that should let you out, but it’s a pretty big drop, Scott.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got Ulysses S. GrAnt on the case.” He banks the left when indicated and makes his way to the vent, summoning his ant friend as speaks.
“Are all your ant sidekicks named with ant puns?”
“Maybe. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No problem at all,” Steve’s voice cuts through before same can continue. “Just make sure you get back in one piece.”
“No problem at all, Cap.” Scott flings himself through the air, and sure enough, GrAnt is there to catch him, flying him off into the van not too far away, where he slips into the open door and grows larger in the seat that was assigned to him. “And right on schedule.”
“Good work, Scott,” Steve says as he turns with a smile. “Do you still have the package?”
“I do.” And he holds out his fist, showing the very, very tiny cardboard box sitting in the palm of his hand. Steve glances down at it, before looking up in confusion.
“You do know that we’re going to need to be a lot … bigger, right?”
“I do. Unfortunately, I didn’t stalk up on the big half before this mission so we may have to swing by Hank Pym’s first.”
Sam sighs, before rubbing his eyes. “Right. I’m sure your girlfriend will be very happy to see us.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. She totally doesn’t hold a grudge at all.” He says, knowing that it isn’t even close to the truth, but she’s sure he’ll be willing to put aside the anger for a moment as she meets Steve.
After all, he’s Captain America. How bad could it be?
5/19-25/19 | 7 days, 7 stories | 7/7 | COMPLETE
WORD COUNT: 5,363
june 2019 | mid-year marathon | goal: 16,712 | COMPLETE
WEEK 2:
WEEK 3:
WEEK 4:
GRAND TOTAL: 17,056
6/12/19 | time management challenge | COMPLETE
GRAND TOTAL: 2,623
july 2019 | mid-year marathon pt. 2 | goal: 16,986 | COMPLETE
WEEK 2:
WEEK 3:
WEEK 4:
GRAND TOTAL: 17,345
7/1/19 | letter writing challenge | 174 | COMPLETE
I hope this letter finds you well, and more importantly, that this letter reaches you at all. Your king has been quite despondent with your disappearance, having never been more at ease than when you were by his side. I’m not sure what actions he is prepared to undertake to ensure your safe return home to his castle, but I am bracing myself for all options.
I am sending this with hopes that you will be able to reach out and let me know, if nothing else, you are safe. I’m reluctant to say I’ve grown fond of you, as I know how that sounds from where I stand, but I do care whether or not you’ve managed to return to your world safely. Things have been tense, and I believe Tristan may be about to do something drastic.
Please keep yourself safe. Please know that when the time is right, we will come for you. I wish you well, and hope to hear from you soon.
Fondly yours,
Simon Torquill
7/12/19 | 8d20 challenge | COMPLETE
GRAND TOTAL: 2,105
7/31/19 | july challenge: i wood if i could | 530 | COMPLETE
The day had started off well enough, with a lovely early winter stroll through the English countryside. It’s begun to get a bit brisk as of late, deterring most people from being on the roads, but not yet too cold to deter those dedicated to the adventure of it all, and my beloved and I had had many strolls through these very woods before the true heart of winter had set in. We had just made it to our favorite clearing in the middle of the woods, when the weather took a sudden turn for the worse and snow began falling all too quickly.
He, bless his heart, did his best to try and navigate us out of it, insisting that the higher roads through the hills were our best options in the face of the falling snow, but all I could see was slipping and sliding through the newly fallen drifts, with no traction to keep us from getting colder and wetter than we already were. I insisted we take the low roads, going back the way we came and hoping that the snow hadn’t covered up too much of the path so we wouldn’t get lost.
This difference of opinions called quite a row, and while he may say otherwise, I would like to believe that we both said things we would otherwise regret. Particularly about one of our mothers, but that’s not so much of a concern now.
Now, the real problem is, that that row ended in a bet of sorts. We would win nothing but the pride of knowing that we were right, but we both set off in our opposite directions to see who would return home first. At first, I was doing quite well. I made it back to the point where we parted ways with the river, and began to follow it back towards what I believed was the end of the wood, but it seems as though no matter how far I managed to walk, I only kept finding more and more river instead of less and less wood.
Needless to say, things didn’t get better from there. Three hours later, I am trembling cold, wandering every which way I can, and it isn’t until a search party manages to take hold of me (bless Michael and Eleanor for being worrywarts and calling the proper authorities when we didn’t show up to dinner) and bundle me in some warm blankets.
I’m not sure what the state of my lover is as of yet, but even if he is miserable, I’m not sure if I would be able to relish in it. At the moment, all I know for sure is one thing.
Next time, I will take the high road.
8/14-15/19 | two day challenge | goal: 4,000 | COMPLETE
GRAND TOTAL: 4,329
10/17-21/19 | nano prep challenge | goal: 8,335 | COMPLETE
10/18:
10/19:
10/20:
10/21:
GRAND TOTAL: 8,463
12/4/19 | forkful of spoonerisms | 360
You crumple the tissue, throw it away, and wash your hands for good measure. It doesn’t help matters if you’re spreading germs to boot.
Making your way back out to the gymnasium again, you move to the mats. Your partner is waiting for you, as well as the line of bright-eyed, excited girls waiting to see how to defend themselves best. They also probably want to learn how to be the next Black Widow, but you’ll take whatever you can get. Your partner looks concerned, as she moves closer to tap her fists against yours.
“You sure you want to do this?”
You nod. “Rescheduling that'll be a pain in the ass.”
“Fair enough.” She pulls away again, squaring up as you look back to the rest of the girls.
“Which one of you wants to be our ringleader?” Fifteen hands shoot up in the air, each one straining more than the last, and you pick one of the taller girls sitting on the end, gesturing for her to come closer. “Just count us down from five, and back out of the way, okay?”
The girl nods, holding up one hand between them and starting to make a chopping motion. “Five, four, three, two … one!”
The fight is vigorous, and you’re shocked by how well you’re able to keep up. Your head is still throbbing, but you manage to make all your blocks and only miss a couple blows to the stomach. Part of you suspects that your partner might have been taking it easy on you, but you don’t particularly mind. It’s still a pretty good show, and when both of you finally part, out of breath and muscles stretched and lazy, you can’t help but feel the slightest bit better.
Things always go so much smoother when you know your blows
12/4/19 | five minute challenge | 247 words
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in the winter, the sun goes down earlier …”
“I know that, asshole,” Serena sneers at her classmate as she makes her way out of the high school, before glancing down at her watch. It’s only just after five – it’s starting to be winter, but they’re not that far into winter. It should still be at least a little light out. “It’s just … it’s really dark, don’t you think?”
Alexander follows her gaze up to the sky, squinting at the inky blackness above them. “Maybe. I can’t see any stars.” That’s not unusual for Chicago – the city pollution tends to obscure a lot of the light from above, but he does not see a lot of other lights either. It’s just … dark.
The streetlight flickers before extinguishing completely, surrounding them in total darkness. Serena inches closer to where Alexander had been standing, reaching an arm out for his. “Alex …”
Before she can even finish his name, a small ball of flame lights up in the palm of his hand, illuminating both their faces. She exhales slowly, relaxing that they could at least see a little bit. His free hand reaches down to take hers, before squeezing it.
“Want to walk home together?”
She nods. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”
“If we run into any assholes, you can do your siren magic thing, right?”
She nods. “Yeah. I’ve got your back.”
personal goal: complete the empathy quotient draft | 8/9
12/14/19 | stop, drop, write | dctv | 1,096
That is the statement that Kara offers on this chilly Gotham night, when Kate asked her what brought the Kryptonian to her door of all places on Earth 1. Kate raises an eyebrow over the top of her beer, more amused than anything else, and there's a light in her eyes that indicates there's a joke coming.
"You'll get no argument from me."
Kara huffs a laugh, before shaking her head. "I mean ... I love Oliver and Barry. I do. But I don't think they're the right person to go to advice for for this particular problem."
"And you thought I was?" Kate raises an eyebrow again. "You do know that I've been at this hero game a little shorter than you have, right?"
"Yes, but Oliver has the emotional intelligence of a turnip and Barry ... sometimes I think his experience is a detriment here." She pauses and holds up her hands. "After a while it becomes so routine. Fight the bad guy. Save the world. It's like there are components you pick and choose when coming up against each bad guy and you put the right puzzle pieces together and the problem is solved. But ... I don't think I have a solve for this in my toolbox."
Kate considers that response, before taking another pull on her beer. "Okay. So what's the problem?"
"My best friend hates me. She found out my secret identity before I was ready to tell her, and she's gone mad scientist on me ... and I don't really think it's all mad science. She thinks she's saving the world, saving humanity from themselves."
"Saving them how?"
Kara's lips press together, weighing her options before spilling all of it. "She took a piece of mind control alien tech called Myriad and was going to use it ... I don't know what for. She wouldn't talk to me about it fully, but it wasn't so that she could rule the world. That wasn't where her mind was at."
"How do you know?"
"Because brutally honest is her thing. It's kind of her strongest weapon." She buries her face in her hands, shoulders hunching as she takes a deep breath. "I can't turn my back on my best friend. I can't. But ... how do I stop her from becoming the worst version of herself if she doesn't trust me anymore?"
Something flickers across Kate's face, and she glances to the wall briefly. Kara waits, trying to tell if that's a dismissive face or a weighing her options face, and eventually she's rewarded with actual words.
"Sometimes you have to stop seeing people as you want them to be and start seeing them for who they are."
Kara raises an eyebrow. "That's ... darker than I expected."
Kate raises one in return. "If you were looking for a sunny outlook, you probably shouldn't have come to Gotham."
"Point taken."
"Look, Kara ... I'm not saying that you're wrong to want to save her. You probably have more hope than any person is capable of carrying. But if you ignore everything she's doing in a misplaced attempt to try and save her, then innocent people are going to get hurt." Kate makes a face that Kara reads as more understanding than expected, but she still doesn't confide her own examples. But Kara knows guilt when she sees it, so she doesn't press, and waits for Kate to continue. "You chose to be National City's hero. You told them you would protect them. You have to honor that promise."
"I know," Kara sighs, resting her chin in her hand. "I just wish it didn't have to be this way."
Kate reaches over and places a hand on her arm gently. "You'll figure it out, and you'll save your friend. You seem to have a knack for those kinds of happy endings."
Kara gives a small smile in return. "You don't think you do?"
Kate's shoulders slump. "I have the opposite problem. My villain was telling me who she was all along. But I was so blinded by who she was to me that I didn't want to see it."
"And people got hurt?"
Kate nods. "I don't know if my stepsister is ever going to speak to me again. I've been ... a really terrible sister to her. All she's ever wanted was for us to be close."
"I know that feeling," Kara nods. "Both sides, actually. Maybe we should trade. I'll go beat up bad guys in Gotham for a while and handle your sister problems and you can go try and talk some sense into Lena?"
"Do you really think that would work?"
"Probably not. But it might be a fun vacation." Her eyes briefly light up as she goes to reach for her bag. "Speaking of which!"
She pulls out a small, silver device with a button in the center, and hands it over to Kate. "This is a breach device. Since you're officially part of the gang now, Cisco said I could give you one. It's already programmed for Earth-38, so all you have to do is press the button and you're welcome in National City any time."
"I will keep that in mind," Kate laughs as she takes it from her. "Just in case I ever decide I want to see the sun."
"This was nice though," Kara nods as she rests her chin in her hand. "It's nice to have a female perspective every once in a while."
"And talk to someone who doesn't have the emotional intelligence of a turnip?"
"Please don't tell him I said that. I really do like him, but sometimes he can just ..."
"Leave you wondering if his face is actually stuck in that grumpy position because of all those years of brooding?"
Kara laughs out loud, a bright sound that seems almost as out of place in the darkness of Gotham as the sunniness of her smile. But it's nice to end the conversation on a sunnier note than the weight of what her world has waiting for her. "Oh, Rao, this is terrible. We need to stop. But we are not done, because if this world is anything like my Gotham, I know this great little karaoke place where I can buy you another beer."
"Why am I not surprised that you karaoke?"
Kara grins. "Oh, I don't just karaoke. I kill at karaoke."
Kate shakes her head, and grabs her leather jacket off the back of her chair. "Okay. This I have to see."
12/26/19 | december challenge: in the presence of presents | 722
Your husband stops short in front of you. It’s not an advisable step to take, in a crowded mall surrounded by shoppers seeking out the last-minute gifts for their loved ones, where they’re paying even less attention than he is about what may be happening, but you know the real reason why. You know that there’s a reason you both saved this particular gift for last.
“No.”
His voice is only slightly above a whisper, but you can hear it all the same, the dread, the fear. This gift is last on your list for a reason. That reason being that it’s the hot new toy of the year, the one that your daughter has been practically begging you for since it was released and you and Ben had at least committed that you would try. That didn’t mean, however, that you are thrilled with the prospect of charging into the most prominent store a week before Christmas to try and put that toy in your hands, along with every other pair of desperate parents in the greater metropolitan area.
You move to stand next to him as the pair of you stare down the archway of the toy store in question, parents rushing around you on every side, and you glance over, sliding your hand into his with a firm squeeze.
“Ready?”
“Not even a little.”
You smirk, before nodding in agreement. “We do this together.”
He squeezes your hand in return, before you two venture wholly into the abyss. It doesn’t take you long to find the aisle in question, full of rushing parents trying to make off with their wares, almost as though they’re stealing it, even though they’re essentially going to directly to the register to pay. Only one of the toys remains on the shelf, sitting pretty and pink in its colorful box, and for a brief moment, there’s hope that the two of you may be able to pull this off.
Then, you spot them — another couple making their way down the aisle with the same set of determination. One of them sees you in turn and nudges their spouse to move faster, starting to pick up the pace as they barrel towards their prize. You reach out, tapping your husband on the shoulder, almost in a silent gesture of urgency.
“Ben … Ben. Go-go-go-go-go-go!”
He breaks into a run without a second thought. “Make a hole!” His voice carries over the crowd as they do as expected on instinct, and he flies, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor as he runs, one hand extended outwards to wrap around the delicate cardboard box.
You see the other couple coming from the left. You dart forward fast enough to squeak through rapidly closing corridor to provide a shield for your man, sliding into place to block the entrance. The one who spotted you also sees you coming, and they shove their spouse in front of you like a sacrificial lamb, and the two of you collide, hard. You can feel your feet sliding out from under you as you both crumple to the ground, only saved from significant pain by your big, puffy parka meant to help you brave the outdoor weather.
“Sorry,” the sacrificial spouse replies, fumbling to get to their feet. As they do, you can see through the haze above you that Ben is holding the toy in question victoriously over his head.
(Or maybe it’s not victory so much as it is using his considerable height to hold the toy out of reach of the usurper who is much shorter and attempting to climb your husband to achieve victory.)
“You okay, babe?” he asks, looking down at you with a pleased smile.
“I’ll live,” you reply, before pushing up to your feet and taking his elbow. “Let’s pay and get out of here.”
The usurper is pitching a fit, but the two of you can’t bring yourselves to care. Instead, you make your way to the front, pay an excessive amount of money for a toy that likely did not cost that much to make, and make your way out to the car.
Not long after that, the driver’s side door slams next to you, and without a second thought, you both drive off into the night.