mummy made me do the little lad dance

spanish 09/21/2021

anything in bold is an a/n
anything in italics is a motion or sound or some shit like that
anything underlined is me thinking because my thoughts are important #pov #iheartmilfs

im not gonna write some of the shit all nice and proper so dont mind that

okay so our class got downstairs and sat down and then eight grade showed up and sat down

"hi," gabe said as he sat down. his voice sounded like an odd mix between bo burnham and ranboo, as per usual.

"hi," i responded extremely shyly. i sounded so timid and small i half expected myself to stutter like a cookie girl from a gacha life mini movie.

while we waited for mrs. rempalski to start class, gabe and i played rock paper scissors. i tried to look as calm as possible despite dying internally.

rock fuck me fuck me fuck me
rock im gonna fucking cry i hate it here
paper why is he talking to me help
rock haha rock because hard dick get it haha
rock deewanee johnsin
paper do you ever feel like a plastic bag
scissors im throwing hands thats it

this went on for what felt like an eternity until finally, mrs. rempalski started talking. i laughed silently as gabe yelled out half assed attempts at the words she was saying. i began to zone out until jack f. ran by and turned off the lights. mrs. rempalski started to play some videos about colours and weather and gabe sang along.

at one point, gabe turned to me and said "sing along."

"no," i replied. i couldn't tell if he was joking or not, it sounded like he was joking but i thought i heard a bit of genuineness in his tone. i might be crazy though.

"yes," he insisted, looking me in the eyes.

"no."

we continued to go back and forth until it got awkward and i broke the repetition.

"how have you not blinked this whole time? should i be concerned?" i asked as a desperate break from the eye contact.

THIS SHORT COMMERCIAL BREAK IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY OUR SPONSOR, BO BURNHAM.

BACK TO THE STORY

instead of responding, he continued to stare.

"sing." he demanded.

"no." i resisted.

"why?" he asked, sounding as disappointed as a child when their mom says they can't take candy from the guy with the white van and tinted windows.

"because no," i said, not bothering to come up with a decent excuse.

"please," he begged.

"no."

"please."

and the cycle started again. i tried yet again to get him to break eye contact.

"off topic but do you like bo burnham?" i asked.

"yeah. why?" he asked, still inducing the healthy dose of prolonged eye contact.

"just curious," i said.

wheres airiana when you need her

"please sing."

"why?" i asked, dumbfounded as to why this tall ass eighth grader is so desperate to get me to sing about colors with basho and friends.

"i want you to participate," he said.

HEH??? FIRST GYM CLASS, NOW THIS? MANS NEEDS TO LOWER HIS EXPECTATIONS

"no." i continued to disagree.

"you probably sound great," he said pointedly.

i swear to fucking god. when i say "wheres airiana when you need her" i dont mean "lets have gabe start making logical points that airiana would make"

"no."

"you would!"

"no."

"yes."

and once again, we repeated the same words over and over, faster and faster, making comments every so often such as "you look weird in the dark" or "im genuinely concerned that you havent blinked"

after what felt like an eternity, and probably was, the lights came back on. gabe began reading and mrs. rempalski started talking about shapes. every so often gabe would look up from his book, shout something out, then look at me and say "this is why the specials teachers hate me".

while half listening and half freaking out, i felt gabe nudge my foot. thinking it was an accident, i moved my foot out of the way a bit. he then nudged it again, and i realized it wasn't on accident. it wasnt an obnoxious, "i fucking hate you go to hell bitch but im also gonna confess my love for you in latin then pretend im clueless as fuck then give a meaningless apology" kind of nudge. it was more of a friendly nudge. kind of like me kicking your foot in theology because i cant think of a better way to explain it

when mrs. rempalski was talking about triangles or something, gabe shouted out something. at that point i had kind of blocked it out while i thought about some shit i dont remember, but he caught my attention with one thing he said.

"dream smp!" he shouted. my head flew in his direction and i looked at him in shock. he looked at me with an expression i couldn't read, then i looked away to avoid prolonged eye contact part two.

time skip because nothing really happened for a while that was interesting

"how do you draw a pentagram?" i asked.

"i think like this," he responded as he drew a pentagram.

"jack," he said, getting the attention of both jacks at the table.

"is this how you draw a pentagram?" he asked.

they said yeah with a concerned look, but gabe wasnt satisfied.

"mrs. rempalski! is this how you draw a pentagram?" he shouted as he held up his paper.

fuck fuck fuck fuck titties balls cock dick ass shit cunt pussy worship and prayer

why is my mom watching a show that talks about orgasms and dildos and vibrators

now they're talking about g spots and vaginas

luckily, he couldnt get her attention. i feel like i should write more here but i dont know what else to say about that

"okay clasé, time to go to your next class," mrs. rempalski said.

"if theres a rap in art class you have to sing," he said.

"fuck you," i grumbled.

"i don't make the rules, i only enforce them," he said before walking away.

i'll write one of these for art and music tomorrow

if your not anna this wont make any sense but thats your problem not mine