#some sentence sunday

I finished the next chapter of PH last night, but I need to step back before editing - so I’m aiming for posting Wednesday instead of today.  It’s…uh…it’s turned into another little beast.  These meet cute/akuma chapters were supposed to be short, dang it. 

“Yeah,” Bri snickered, smirking at her.  “You’re not even using the mat in front of us.  Last week, Troy had Brussel sprouts before class.  Bent over and ripped a big one right in poor Luka’s face.”

Blue Hair’s face scrunched at the memory, but Marinette was suddenly too gripped with a whole new sense of terror to realize Blue Hair’s name was Luka.

“That…thathappens?” she squeaked.  Blue Hair gave her an encouraging, if pained, smile and shrugged.

“People fart,” he said.  “I survived.”

…oh my God I’m going to fart in his face, Marinette thought in a blind panic.  Blue Hair smiled and squeezed her knee.

“Breathe,” he said, patting her knee before turning back to the front of the class, where Adrienne looked like she was meditating.  “You’ll do great.”

“…I’m going to fart in your face and I won’t even have to worry about breaking my neck because I’ll have already died of embarrassment,” she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and hanging her head.  

I was gonna save this for WIP Wednesday, but at the rate this fic is going I might actually be posting it Wednesday.   So I guess Dingka is happening?  Lingo?  Lukgo?  Blue Shades?  Dumb & Dumber? 

“Oh my God, this is amazing.”

Sheila King froze outside her son’s bedroom door. Her son’s closed bedroom door.  The laundry basket on her hip was completely forgotten as she heard said son moan.  And then his best mate ask in a raspy voice: “…what if we tried it like this?”

She turned towards the door, eyes wide, as a moment of silence passed.  She slowly approached the door, her hand reaching for the knob, and froze again when Perry started gagging.

“N-nah, mate,” he coughed, gasping.  “Too…too much.”

“I love it,” Luka answered, his voice low and sounding like he was lost in…ahem.

Sheila’s hand returned to her laundry basket, her face burning as she realized what exactly was going on behind that door.  She pivoted away from the door and continued on her way to her own bedroom, ready to put the folded washing away.  And blast the first CD she could find.  To give her son and his friend (boyfriend, boyfriend, they were finallyboyfriends!) the privacy they deserved.