elementary school memories that give me raincore + schoolcore vibes/inspire me
- funbrain on windows 98 in the elementary school computer lab before 10 am
- having to sit in the auditorium all morning because of rain
- basking in the deep blue skies and sprinkling raindrops as you walk to school with your umbrella
- the sound of rain pattering on your umbrella as you walk
- rainy morning assemblies
- the smell of new plastic, cold dewy air and scotch tape
- the soft, forgiving, lonely nature of the school playground on rainy days when nobody is playing
- the teacher opening the door/window for a second and light raindrops flying onto you (our classrooms were outside)
- puddles on wet asphalt like an icey ocean
- what a wonderful world by louis armstrong
- the first day/week of school
- holiday parties and brunch in the classroom
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random story:
once upon a time, when i was still in elementary school my "friends" and me was in pe class and one of them have some stickers, we decide that why not sneak away and put some outside of the bathroom? and so we did. Every weeks i'll go to that bathroom just to see those stickers for the next 2 years or so and when we eventually leave that school, we came back last year for teacher day, after giving flowers and stuff i went to look at the stickers but the school was painted all over after we left so...rip.
p.s: i think some stickers were zodiac and the rest are cats and witches (i dont remember much srry QQ)
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I want more memories like coming home from elementary school.
Hanging out with friends who live nearby, who don't try to act cool and like you shouldn't talk to them
Laughing and doing stupid things for eachother not cause someone's looking
Sharing thoughts and not pretending they're too above to pay attention to me
Not making me feel weird.
Not making me feel invisible.
Having some genuine patience.
Listening instead of waiting until I finish
Not making me feel wrong and ashamed of it
Not making me hate.
I hate to hate.
And some people made me hate them, hate the entire place, hate myself.
How could they?
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(warning: gn, pick your own relationship context, mild dubcon, voyeurism ig, you say “jesus”)
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Dabi absolutely does not give any fucks if, and when (because there most definitely is a when), you catch him jacking off.
You enter your room because you’re meaning to grab a hairbrush; fling the door open because of course you do, not hesitating to strut right in after that because, of course, why would you?
You think nothing of the process. Even less, if possible, of the man laying on your bed, because there is usually a man in your bed (the same one), both ignoring you and consuming you at the very same time. It is normal by now to find him buried in your space, often entertained alone though more delighted when bothering you... and today, you think, will be no exception.
He starts by greeting you, saying “hey” with a rasp that slices through his words quite cleanly.
You glance, catching sight of his cheeks and forehead, what little of the skin left there that is unscarred and tan, now tinged dark and damp with the thinnest brushings of sweat. Further down, you find that his legs lay bare, spread, and—
“Oh my god, Touya,” you hiss, immediately shielding your face from the sight of even more proudly splayed thighs, half-covered with a sheet you only wish you could be thankful for if it weren’t drawing attention to a steady, stroking motion right where you know his cock usually hangs. “Jesus, have some shame.”
The fingers over your eyes helps, but they don’t cover everything as you still catch his grin stretching like that of a cat’s, the movement of his hand not ceasing for even a second... nor silencing.
“Don’t mind me, hon,” he rasps again, watching through lazy blinks as you try to resume your journey, now slow and stumbling, to the pile of hair care items on your side of the dresser.
“I’ll mind you when you’re dead.”
“Yeah,” he groans, and though you can’t exactly see the expression he makes, you can hear the shift of his body, the whap! of his phone falling onto the mattress, and the slap of his hand against his loins, the sounds getting tighter, steadier, faster. “Say that again for me, quick, baby, will ya?”
And you throw the hairbrush right at him.
-
“What were you even looking at earlier?” you ask later. “Better’ve been worth soiling my blankets for.”
“You.”
“No, on your phone,” you clamber into bed finally, ignoring the wadded up tissues by his pillow and the way he immediately dips a hand into the back of your underwear when you fall beside him.
“You,” he says again, that evil grin returning. “Took a pic of your ass in those—”
“Touya!”
And he erupts in laughter.
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I swear to God it almost feels like I have amnesia sometimes with how shit my memory is.
It feels like I wasn't truly aware of anything until high school. Like before then I was just a robotic husk going through the motions.
Middle school and elementary school almost feel like fever dreams because the the only thing I really remember from those times is that I hated myself and was lonely and depressed as fuck.
And whenever I do remember something specific from like middle school I think "wow that was only a couple years ago?" because it's so goddamn hazy that it feels like its been decades.
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Thinking about that time my one middle school teacher took my class outside and had us act out crash landing on a deserted island.
Like, we got separated out into groups, had to draw the injuries we got from the "crash" out of a hat, and then each group given a random assortment of gauze and bandaids and told us that we could only use whatever we had on us to try to save the critically injured & survive.
Then she just sat to the side and watched us all stumble through this wild exercise for the rest of class period, called us all together, told us we all were very stupid about how we handled everything and that we died, brought us back inside and never brought it up again.
Same teacher had us read like four different books about children having to survive the wilderness on their own the next year. Never brought up the weird fake survival thing we did the year before. I'm low key wondering if she was just weirdly into that show Lost or something 🤔
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