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theboyzuniverse · 3 years

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Finding Love (Part 1)

POV: You're part of a co-ed K-pop group called Boyz and Girlz aka BGZ, which consists of 11 boys and 3 girls. The 3 girls are Hyeri (97 liner), Eli (98 liner), and Y/N, maknae of the whole group. The girls dorm is a small apartment slightly apart from the boys for privacy, but it is connected to the boys dorm by a common living room, and there's also a shared kitchen to promote good team-work.

The whole dorm was quiet when you got home from your morning walk with Sunwoo and Eric. Haknyeon was in the kitchen half eating, half asleep. Everyone else was probably at the gym. It was a free day for you guys but no one ever really slept in on off days except for Eric who you had forced to wake up, that boy is one hell of a heavy sleeper.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep," Eric muttered.

"Ew, take a shower first." You told him, "And don't fall asleep in there."

"No promises."

You head back to your room to wash up, then headed back to get something to eat. Haknyeon was face-down on the table when you went to the kitchen, you gently wake him up to tell him to head back to his room. He complies easily and you giggle at the way he walks like a zombie.

"I'm gonna play some games today, wanna join?" Sunwoo asked.

"Maybe later, I wanted to do a V-Live today."

Sunwoo and Eric were your bestfriends, you were in the same class and went to the same school before you all graduated together. It was because of them that you didn't have much girlfriends, because you always hung out with either them or their guy friends.

"I'm home!" You heard Juyeon shout as he slammed the door.

"No one cares!" Sunwoo shouted back as he headed back to his room with two juice pouches.

"Wanna do a live with me?" You asked Juyeon as he comes into the kitchen.

"Sure," He replied immediately.

Your oppas and unnies rarely said no to you, and you had to admit you were a brat sometimes but they loved you anyway. You loved them just the same.

"Where is everybody?" He asked you surprised at the quietness of the dorm.

"I don't know, probably at the gym. Sunwoo's playing games, and Eric and Haknyeon are sleeping."

"So everything's still the same."

"You were gone for a week oppa, not a whole year."

He smiled that little smile that the fans loved so much. It really did make him look like a little cat boy, well not so little. Juyeon had gone home for a week for his cousin's marriage, and you had to admit that even though it was just a week as you mentioned, you had really missed him. Juyeon was the type of person who paid attention to the people around him, he adored all of you and always showed it even though he himself might not be aware.

"I'll go wash up, come when you wanna do it."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I'll just order some food later."

"Order for me too."

"I thought you already ate."

"Yeah, but I wanna eat again. Chicken okay?"

He laughed, "Okay, aegi."

It was a nickname that Sunwoo had started for you because you were the maknae, regardless of the fact that he was only a few months older than you. They all babied you so you couldn't help feeling like their baby sometimes.

The members all arrived home as you were about to head to Juyeon's room for the live, and the chaos that ensues when all the members were home immediately started. Chanhee and Changmin were bickering about which one of them was supposed to buy milk while Sunwoo was shouting at Kevin in the room not to disturb him, Kevin was also a brat sometimes.

"Y/N, is Juyeon home?" Hyeri asked you amidst the chaos.

"Yeah, we're gonna do a live."

"Okay, you guys can have this."

She hands you two big slices of cake. Apparently they all went shopping for food after going to the gym. You stand there, plate in your hand, confused.

"What's this for?" You asked, they rarely bought cake unless it was for someone's birthday.

"Just a special treat, no reason." Sangyeon answered.

"Okay," You shrugged as you head to Juyeon's room. "They're so loud, but I can't even complain."

Juyeon laughs at you knowing what you mean. You were one of the noisiest members so you couldn't even really complain about the chaos. However, there were times you wished for some peace.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

He starts the live and the viewers tune in little by little. You could see a lot of ship comments but of course you had to pretend not to see some of them. Shippers were inevitable, especially being a co-ed group. All of you were constantly paired together, but you had noticed lately how many comments there were about you and Juyeon.

"Everyone, should we do a question and answer round today?"

Juyeon and you took turns to read and answer questions. Most of them were about new songs or our current favourite dramas or songs, and even asking you to sing. Then there were the ones asking about other members, and then the shippers, the ones who made you most nervous. Juyeon had always been surprisingly good at handling these, he was natural. The things he's good at he was really good, but if there's something he was bad at, the boy was utter chaos.

"Pose for screenshots," You read a comment that had popped up several times.

Juyeon immediately leaned over to do a heart with you, and you complied. You did little winks and acted cute, of course the fans loved that and it made Juyeon smile, which warmed your heart. If it was any other member they would've playfully cringed at you but Juyeon was just too sweet.

You end the live after about an hour, now a little hungry so you both order some chicken and coke. You lie down on his bed as he pulls you into a tight hug that had you gasping for air. The whole group was pretty cuddly and free with skinship, but Juyeon had these moments where he would just pull someone into a tight bear hug and wouldn't let go until the latter struggled hard against him. He really enjoyed it and the boy was strong so it was close to impossible to break away sometimes.

"Oppa!" You whine as he tightened the hug around you.

He smiles cheekily as you struggled to pull out. Hyunjae comes in to see your struggle.

"Ah not again," He says as he slaps Juyeon's butt.

"Hyung!"

"What?"

"This is fun."

"Yah!"

You protest as they both laugh at you struggling and he finally lets you go.

"Ah so annoying," You mutter as they both smile at you.

"Your chicken is here, we're not paying!" Kevin calls out to you.

"Let me eat too." Hyunjae immediately says as he hears the words chicken.

"Pay for half." You retort back.

"What? That's not fair."

"Yes it is, because you'll probably eat half for yourself." Juyeon replies as he comes in with the chicken.

Hyunjae just laughs not bothering to deny it.

"Eat up aegi, you have to grow more." Juyeon teases you.

In addition to being the youngest, you were also the smallest and shortest. You weren't that short though, the rest of your other members were just too tall, that included Hyeri and Eli who were taller than the average female K-pop idol.

"I always eat well."

Hyunjae cleans up in exchange for not paying, but you let it go since neither you and Juyeon now felt like moving. You both lay down on his bed looking up at the wall, then he takes your hand. Your heart skips a beat catching you off-guard.

Its not like you haven't held hands before, you did it all the time with him and all the other members too and never felt any different. Maybe its just because we're being close and intimate like this, you try to reason with yourself. You almost stop breathing when Juyeon suddenly turns his head to look at you.

"You feel that too don't you?" He asks as he clasps his fingers with yours.

Your heart starts beating faster as he waits for you to answer. Your thoughts are all jumbled up as you stare back at him, your eyes widening and blinking a few times, flustered.

"If you look at me like that I can't think," You finally tell him.

He lays his head back down on the pillow, one hand behind his head and closing his eyes. He holds your hand with your palm against his face as he lets out a sigh.

"I've been feeling it for a while." He tells you. "I confirmed it when I went home, I missed you so much."

You stay quiet at his confession, still in shock. You tried to process everything all at once but it was impossible. The two of you stay like that in silence for a while, the sound of Juyeon slowly breathing in and out helped you calm down. After some time, you muster up enough courage to get up and rest yourself on his chest, and he opens his eyes.

"I think I like you too," You barely manage to whisper.

He gives you a soft smile as he tucks your hair behind your ear, and caresses your cheeks. You put your hand over his hand as you look into his eyes. The same feeling of warmth spread all over you as it always did when you looked at him smile.

How did you not notice it before, this kind of warmth wasn't something you felt with the other members. It was exclusively a feeling associated with Juyeon. He was always there for you, especially during the time when Hwall, a close friend, had to leave the group. You remembered how hard it was for you when he decided to leave due to his injuries, those sleepless nights you spent in front of the T.V. trying to accept reality. Times when even Sunwoo and Eric were at a loss for words, it was always Juyeon who stayed right beside you and lent you a shoulder to cry on.

"Y/N," The door opens then quickly closes with Hyeri exclaiming, "Oh sh*t sorry-"

You both quickly sit up on the bed as she closes the door and disappears, she probably thought you were kissing or something. The atmosphere was tense as you sheepishly turn to look at Juyeon who was running his hand through his hair in slight confusion. As he sees you looking at him he gives you his signature smile, assuring you that you had nothing to be worried about.

Kinda lame and unrealistic cause it was something that suddenly popped into my head but oh well, a girl can dream right?

Thank you for taking time to read it. <3

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digitalstowaway · 3 years

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No Winners: Chapter Three (Mia & Miles AU)

Read on AO3 | After failing to win a guilty verdict at his first trial, Edgeworth is denounced as von Karma's protege. Mia finds him, alone and traumatized, and decides that befriending him is like picking up a lost, wounded puppy on the side of the road. But it turns out they're connected in more ways than Terry Fawles' death.

It was Friday afternoon by the time Lana knocked on Miles’ front door, holding a thermos of soup and smiling.

Miles stood in his doorway, squinting at her. He wore his pajamas still—a comfortable set of flannel bottoms and a large t-shirt that hung off of his scrawny frame—and his hair was ruffled and messy. Lana could see how it stuck up in the back while the fringe had become frizzy and laid flat against his face.

“I thought I’d check up on you,” Lana said. “And bring you soup.”

“That was… thoughtful.” His voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he strained to get the few words out.

He would have looked adorable if there wasn’t a worrying flush to his face and glassiness over his eyes. But he did look younger than Lana had ever seen him. And smaller. If Lana didn’t know any better, she would have assumed he was a teenager taking a day off school.

She just had to take care of him. She couldn’t leave a sick child home alone.

“Mind if I come in?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lana pushed past him and was walking into the house. His home was cute but definitely belonged to a 20-year-old boy. There was hardly any decor, and all of the curtains were drawn shut—though, the latter could have been due to the poor thing looking like he had just crawled out of bed—leaving the rooms to be dark and stuffy. The kitchen was bare, most notably. The only items on the countertops were an electric kettle and decorative containers that Lana suspected held nothing in them.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Miles asked, standing behind her as she unscrewed the top of the thermos.

“If you don’t eat the soup now, it’ll get cold.”

If I don’t watch you eat right now, I don’t think you’ll eat at all.

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you’re capable of it or not, it’s just nice to have someone with you.”

She began rifling through his cabinets. She was happy to see full sets of plates and bowls and cups. She wasn’t very happy to see, though, the lack of food on his shelves.

She motioned for him to sit at his island. He did, looking like he was obeying the command of a superior.

“I can make you tea as well,” Lana said, pouring out the soup in front of him.

“Are you always in the habit of inviting yourself into people’s homes and invading their kitchens?”

“I’ve been known to do so on occasion. But usually, people are more accepting of it than you because I’m also known to be a good cook.”

Miles looked down at his soup. He stirred it, mixing up the vegetables and noodles in a whirlpool, and then set his spoon down.

He was tucked into himself, arms discreetly wrapped around his middle. Lana recognized the position as someone who couldn’t stomach the thought of food.

And all of her forged maternal instincts that came from taking care of Ema rushed forward. Really, a 12-year-old girl and Miles Edgeworth couldn’t be too different to look after.

Lana pressed her hand to his forehead. He allowed it, closing his eyes.

“You’re really warm,” she sighed. “Do you have a thermometer?”

Miles shook his head. Lana tutted.

“Do you have cold medicine? Or any medicine?”

“I have aspirin.”

He was barely old enough to take aspirin. Lana prided herself on her knowledge of over-the-counter meds, and she clearly remembered the warning label on the back of the aspirin bottles to not give any to a person under 20. And god, the kid was just old enough to take such a simple drug? He was just entering the final stages of his coming of age?

Lana had had a thought or two upon first meeting Miles that he was truly too young to be in a prosecutor’s office. Not for the uptight, snooty reasons her colleagues had. But because she couldn’t bear to think of the toll it would take on someone so young—so bent on perfection.

“Do you have anything else?” she asked.

Miles shook his head. His eyebrows raised as if he was in trouble and scared of being scolded. It was always the subtle things that made Lana worry.

“Well, lucky for you, I carry everything in my purse.”

As she dug through her purse for her trusty bottle of acetaminophen, he coughed harshly into his elbow. It sounded worse than the night before. Like his lungs were trying to come up his throat. He winced and grimaced and struggled to breathe through it. Lana forgot about the pills and pulled out her phone.

“I’m going to have Mia pick up a few things for you,” she said.

“No—”

“Miles, you’re not going to get better like this. I’ll have her drop off something for your cough and a thermometer at some point today, okay?”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure you finish your soup.”

—

By the time Mia arrived with a little bag from the pharmacy, Lana was waiting in the doorway with her phone in hand. She tried to smile when Mia met her, but she looked tired and worried.

“Is he okay?” Mia asked.

She tried not to care. People got the flu. People lived through the flu. Miles was going to be fine in a week.

“He’s in rough shape,” Lana said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

Mia passed her the bag with the highly specific requested items inside. Two types of cough syrup—antitussives and expectorants. Whatever those were. Lana had said a balance of both was necessary. A bottle of acetaminophen and another of ibuprofen. There was something about alternating between the two that wasn’t explained well over text. And cough drops (of which Mia had bought three kinds), acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and a thermometer. Any thermometer, Lana told Mia.

The shopping list had been followed by a notification that Lana had sent Mia more than enough money to cover it all. There was a note in the money-sharing app that said and buy yourself something nice ;) xo Lana

It had been a nice break from her anxiety-ridden text messages. Mia had bought herself a pack of gum and two lollipops.

“That’s for you,” Mia said when Lana pulled out the second lollipop.

“How sweet,” Lana said.

“Can I see him? I want to look at the scary prodigy all sick.”

“Yeah, but be quiet. He just fell asleep.” Lana led her in. “Why do you want to see him like this?”

“Blackmail. In case he ever tries pulling something, I’ll have a picture of him all snotty and gross.”

“Mia, don’t take a picture of him.”

“Why not?”

“It’s mean. And isn’t your whole thing being anti-blackmail?”

This was different. There would be no one to truly show the picture to. And Miles would catch on to that. The threat would be superficial and empty.

The living room was dark and quiet, and Mia nearly missed Miles on the couch. He was curled up under a blanket, blending into the upholstery. But looking closer, Mia could see how pale his face was and the light layer of sweat covering his forehead.

Lana unpacked the pharmacy bag on the coffee table, careful to not make a sound to disturb Miles. But he woke himself up anyway, his uneasy breathing turning into a coughing fit. A hand emerged from the blanket, and a crumpled tissue in his fist was pressed to his mouth. His cough sounded awful. Mia nearly gagged in sympathy when she heard something deep in his lungs get stirred up.

“Miles, Mia brought you some stuff,” Lana said. “Can you take your temperature real quick?”

She assembled the thermometer. Mia had picked one up with multiple tips in hopes that the fancier it looked, the better it would work.

Lana handed the thermometer over, and Miles laid it under his tongue. Mia was surprised by the lack of fuss he made, and he did close his eyes immediately and seemed close to sleep by the time the thermometer beeped.

Lana slid it out of his mouth for him as a mother would.

“103.5,” she read.

Mia grimaced. That wasn’t good at all.

Miles’ eyes opened, but they didn’t react to what Lana had said. Instead, they fell on Mia with a glare nastier than what he usually served.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I delivered you half of a pharmacy,” Mia said, gesturing to the table. “Be grateful.”

Lana interrupted them. “Miles, if your fever gets much higher, I think I’m going to take you to a hospital.”

And the glare towards Mia immediately changed to a scared look to Lana. He shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“But if you get any worse, I think you’ll need help and there’s no clinics open at this hour. It doesn’t sound like you’re breathing very well, either.”

It didn’t. Every other intake of breath was raspy.

Miles shook his head again. Lana sat next to him on the couch and brushed his hair back from his face. It was absolutely out of character to allow himself to be coddled in such a way.

How childish he looked, Mia thought. He certainly always carried the air of a brat, but he had never looked so small. So helpless. So in need of a person like Lana Skye.

“Only if you get worse, okay?” Lana said. “And Mia brought you a lot of medicine, so hopefully you start feeling better by tonight.”

But Miles still looked scared, and Mia wondered what his damage was with hospitals. Not that anyone particularly liked having to go into hospitals. They were genuinely acknowledged as places no one ever wanted to be.

“Let’s try to get this cough under control first,” Lana said and reached for one of the bottles of cough syrup.

Hours passed, and Mia stayed. She felt bad about leaving Lana alone with the possibility of Miles needing to be taken to a hospital hanging in the air.

It was also nice to see Lana mother Miles, waking him so often to take a different pill or to press the thermometer into his mouth one more time. When she wasn’t doting on the prosecutor, they snuck into the kitchen to talk like children.

“He really needs a doctor,” Lana said. “But it’ll be best if I can get him to a clinic tomorrow instead of putting him through the emergency room tonight.”

“You’d go with him?”

“Do you think he could drive himself?”

Mia rocked against the countertop. “No.”

“Then, I’d have to go with him. Or someone would have to go with him, and I don’t really see anyone else lining up to escort him.”

Lana picked up her phone and, looking over her shoulder, Mia could see her texting Ema and then Damon Gant. One a reassuring conversation and the other a semi-desperate beg to ask anyone at all if they could do her a favor.

“You know,” Mia said, “if someone needs to watch Ema tonight, I can do it.”

Lana looked up, perhaps embarrassed that she had been caught in such weakness. “Would you?”

“Unless you need someone to wrangle Miles to the hospital.”

Lana smiled. “We’ll see which child needs the most supervision. But if I did ask you to watch Ema tonight, you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. I have nothing better to do.”

“And if I asked you to help me get Miles to a hospital?”

Mia tilted her head back. She had little reason to say no. “Sure.”

—

As the sun was finally setting, coughing turned to choking.

Miles struggled to pull himself up. He rested on his elbows, his head bowed, coughing too hard to take in any fulfilling breaths.

Lana tugged him up so that he was sitting against her. His shoulders heaved and with his coughs, small strings of bile spilled from his mouth.

“Can you get towels please?” Lana asked Mia.

Mia ran down the halls until she found a closet and stacks of towels. It was an unnecessarily large house for one kid. Mia had a one-bedroom apartment with barely enough room to accommodate Maya when she visited. And there was Miles living in a house with, if Mia counted right as she passed them, two bathrooms and a bedroom on the first floor alone.

But she couldn’t be mad at him if his sleazy mentor gave him the money to buy the house. If anything, it was good for Miles to keep whatever that man had already given him.

Mia grabbed all the hand towels and wash clothes she could, wetting a few down, and ran back to the sitting room where Lana was trying to keep Miles up.

“It’s okay,” she was repeating, and Mia could hear Miles mumbling apologies as she handed over the towels.

Lana got to work cleaning up his face and then his clothes. Miles’ thin hands were limp on his lap, only being moved by Lana to scrub at the bile that hand landed on his sweatpants.

“Do you want to change?” Lana asked.

Miles shook his head. He was usually so pristine, Mia was surprised he didn’t want a fresh pair of clothes.

“Okay. We can lay back down for now.” Lana helped him shuffle around until he was lying back down.

She covered him with his blanket again and left one of the damp cloths over his forehead. Mia stood awkwardly off to the side.

“It’s getting kinda late,” Lana said.

“If you want me to watch Ema now, I can,” she said.

“I don’t know. I think I should really get Miles to a hospital, but I think it’ll take at least the two of us to get him anywhere.”

“Is there anyone else who can watch Ema?”

Lana didn’t say anything. Mia didn’t know many people who could really be left alone with a child. Not any that could be called at the last minute.

“What about Diego?” she asked.

“Ema’s never met Diego before. I’ve barely met Diego.”

“Yeah, but he’d probably be willing to stay with her for the night. He mentioned to me once that he likes kids.”

“Miles is a kid, and he doesn’t seem to like him.”

“Miles is 20.”

“I’m 20,” Miles agreed sleepily.

“And Ema isn’t Miles,” Mia said. “She’s… less difficult.”

“Okay,” Lana said. “If he doesn’t mind, tell him I can give him our house key if he meets us here and helps us get Miles into my car.”

Mia didn’t hesitate to grab her phone and begin texting Diego, her newest message harshly juxtaposing her previous, half-flirty ones. Miles whined next to her, telling Lana that he would be okay. That he didn’t need to go anywhere. And Lana gently cooed to him that it would be alright. He needed more help than she could give him, and she and Mia would stay with him.

Mia didn’t remember when she volunteered to stay with Miles in the hospital. She thought that she would be there long enough to get him inside and moved on from the waiting room before going back to her own apartment. She watched Miles cough into his pillow and Lana brush his damp hair back from his forehead and knew that she was well past the point of any further negotiations.

#mia & miles au #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #mia fey #lana skye #my fics #no winners #finally chapter three!!!

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angelkurenai · 3 years

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Cheesy fanfics - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Cheesy fanfics

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 3,520

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! Thought I'd help your creativity out a little bit! How about "I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single so maybe this is a second chance?" Very Hallmark Movie esque, but I have faith in your creativity and am sure you're gonna kill it (if you choose to do it of course!). Hope it helps!

“You have to be kidding me.” you gasped, pressing a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened “Dean? Is that really you?”

“Depends, do I still look like the guy you remember? Or am I the old ass idiot I saw in the mirror this morning?” he joked, almost giving himself a pat on the shoulder for how playful he sounded and how he didn't trip over his words.

He had tripped over the cereal the moment he saw you, already, anyway. He was glad you had not noticed him at that moment because with his luck, he would have made an even worse fool of himself and ended up on the floor faster than could be humanly possible. But, in his defense, they weren't even supposed to be there and the moment he saw you, looking so damn beautiful as if not a single day had passed, he had been floored in any way that mattered other than literally.

“Oh shut up and come here, you asshole.” you scoffed, pretending to give him a glare but the smile that was on your lips was too bright for his mind to register anything else in the first place. It was all he could think about, all his treacherous heart could think of as it danced around like crazy in his chest.

“Ah hell, it's been so long.” he chuckled as well, letting his arms wrap around your form, his entire body melting on the spot as you squeezed him close to you “Too long.” he whispered, mostly to himself as he gave a squeeze in return, your body fitting perfectly with his the way it always did “I understand now though.”

He finally pulled away, though he let his arms rest on you for a few more seconds; just like he had let the hug last a bit longer than needed. It was self-indulgent, he knew it, but if he let himself memorize the way your body fit in his arms after all this time, then nobody could blame him.

“You understand?” you tilted your head to the side, and he almost felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs in that very moment. To look at you from this up close again, still in his arms, and to realize all over again just how easy it had been for him to fall for you in high school, it was inevitable that you could steal his breath away in a matter of seconds.

He cleared his throat “You didn't expect to see me all old and wrinkly. You expected to see the ghost of me, coming by to say Merry Christmas.”

“Well, you're not exactly wrong on that. Although, I didn't expect and certainly far from hoped it would be your ghost I saw this Christmas. Maybe some unlucky folk that died years ago.” you said with a soft shrug, voice low but tone as casual as talking about the weather. Fact which had not changed over the years and which brought a pleasant kind of warmth through Dean's chest, making him chuckle deeply.

“Well, thank you for your thoughtfulness. I've gotten close to that once or twice, can't deny it, but-” he noticed you stiffening up in his arms “All is good. In fact, it's better than it's ever been. You'll see. I'll get to tell you about it hopefully, one day.”

“Hopefully soon.” you said softly, nodding your head as you finally took a step backwards to put some distance between you because even though you'd have loved to stay like that forever, Dean had always been a a friend to you – a good one, yes, but one that had no idea about your feelings for him – and also because you were currently standing in the middle of the aisle as it was “Before you disappear without a single word for the next couple years or so, I suppose.”

“Yeah I uh- Well, you've got a point there. I'm-” he stopped himself, swallowing thickly over the lump in his throat “I'm really sorry about that. I- I wanted to- You have no idea how much I wanted to contact you but shit just kept getting crazier and I... I couldn't drag you into it.”

“What?” you whispered “No, no Dean, I didn't mean- That's not why I said it. I'm not mad nor do I blame you for it. No more so than I could blame life, both yours and mine. I mean, you could have always vanished without a single warning.”

“I wouldn't do that. I would never do that to you. You're too-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat “You've always been too important to me.” he confessed softly “I should just assume that I am somewhat important to you too, right? Given that I'm not a ghost by your own hand right now.”

“Hmm let's give it some time, shall we? Wait till about the end of the day to see how it turns out.” you said with a smirk, and a chuckle following soon “That is... if you will be around for that long?”

“Oh I actually plan to be around here for a lot longer than that. I mean-” he tried to hide his own giddiness when he saw the way your eyes widened and sparkled with happiness “It's Christmas, isn't it? People are celebrating and spending time with their loved ones and eating too much and watching sappy movies and I was never particularly one for the latter but it doesn't sound so bad to me.”

“You mean you're... on vacation? No ghost or vamp's got you here?” you frowned deeply.

“No, I uh I've actually been... trying to get a bit away from that. I am on vacation now, yes, but besides that I... Well, I don't do that anymore.” he said with a small shrug, not sure why he felt almost self-conscious about it “Not- Not hunting. I mean, yes, hunting. But-” he cleared his throat, taking great notice of the surprise if not shocked look you gave him “It's not like I am out. I'm more... slowly getting out of it. Taking fewer cases, looking for an actual job, you know that kind of stuff. There are fewer cases in general anyway.”

“And going on vacation, apparently.” you noted with a small smile, voice almost breathless in disbelief, and he nodded his head.

“And got a dog.” he pointed out with a grin, loving to see your eyes widen before a a wide smile spread on your lips. Gosh how he loved that smile. Always had and always would.

“Wow. Dean, that's really- wow.” you confessed, blowing out a soft breath “To tell you the truth, that was really the last thing I expected to hear. But certainly the best one too.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, and boy had he missed the way you could make his heart beat inside his chest “It's actually been so long, so much had happened since we last spoke.”

“Yeah no kidding.” you laughed “This- wow. That's incredible news, Dean. So...” you looked down shyly for a second, as if unsure “What really made you make the choice at last? The Dean I remembered didn't even see this as a chance. To get out of the life, it seemed like an impossible dream back then. Any... particular reason why now?”

“You could say that.” he nodded his head, struggling to hold back a grin when he saw the nervousness on your features, the eagerness and doubt to hear what he had to say. And it wasn't because he loved torturing you but because there was always a small part of him that held onto hope, that after all these years had not let go of you and his feelings for you, and that small- alright, great part of him, wanted to know if you were interested in him. Just like he had hoped and waited back then, trying to understand if you really had feelings for him. He had been so hesitant, unsure if he should really try his luck or if he was going to ruin the best thing he'd gotten in his whole life. In the end, he had chickened out and lost his only chance.

Or maybe so he thought. Because looking at you look at him in that way made him believe, hope even, that maybe there really were second chances in life. All he had to do was figure it out.

“Not- not that there is a person in my life that made me leave all that behind, no.” he chuckled “I'm still as single as you remember. That much hasn't changed.” he said with a half smile, feeling his heart flutter in his chest when he saw relief flood your features and your shoulders relax “It's just that, well-” he shrugged “Fighting against the devil, meeting his son and most recently beating god, well, that can change someone.”

“God as in...?” you blinked in surprise and he shrugged once more.

“Ah yeah, the big G. It was no big deal, but it had to be done, you know? He was a dick. Now somebody else is running heaven. The devil's son as I told you, he's family though so that's great. But that's a long story, I'll probably tell you another time.” he brushed it off “So yeah, as you see, things did change. And Sam and I are more free now, that's why we decided to really do what we like, honestly.”

“Yeah that really is a lo-”

“Oh and I killed Hitler, so you're welcome for that, by the way.”

“...Thank you?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion “I- Honestly, Dean, I was gonna ask if you mean it or not but knowing you? I'm fairly sure you're not joking here. And just because I wouldn't like to freak out in the middle of the market and look like some lunatic, I'm gonna change the subject yeah? Good. So-” you cleared your throat “What are your plans for the holidays? Seeing as you are in town.”

A deep chuckle left his lips and he nodded his head “Yeah, that's a better topic. Uhm honestly, haven't thought that far yet. I was just driving with Miracle, that's my dog by the way, and decided to stop by here to do some shopping without Sam shoving his rabbit food in my cart, you know?” he said, leaving out the part where seeing as the holidays were right around the corner he couldn't stop thinking about you - just like he did every time that time of the year - and drove back to the town he had first met you in hopes (and possibly with a lot of wishful thinking) that he could see you even from far away. It had not worked out in his favor the past couple times, he didn't expect it to happen this year but here he was and here you were and he felt worse than a child on Christmas' day. Giddy and buzzing with excitement and nerves, almost lightheaded the longer he looked at you.

“And you?” he asked after a few second, even though he would have been content looking at you and taking everything in forever “You got me carried around talking about my life and you didn't tell me a thing about yourself. Anything... interesting going on? I don't suppose you plan on spending the holidays all alone?... Besides your family and friends I mean.”

“Alone? No, of course not. I've got the most handsome and loyal man waiting for me at home. So I'm picking out whatever I can for the both of us now.” you grinned and he was almost sure you too could hear his heart shutter inside his chest, at least before you spoke up again “Yeah, I might have a bit trouble since I don't know what he likes yet but I think he'd find it easier to communicate with Miracle than with me, so I improvise.” you shrugged with a grin “I got a puppy a couple months ago as well.”

“Oh oh!” he blinked in surprise, his hands shaking in relief as a smile that made his cheeks hurt got plastered on his face “That's great! I remember you always wanted one. It's so great to see you finally got that. So you... I assume, you don't got... someone else then? I- I mean, not that it would have been a shock. Any guy should thank their lucky stars to have you by their side.”

“Nah no guy in my life like that. It's been a while actually. I'm just as single as you this Christmas, I'm starting to think there must be a pattern. Just like it happened back in high school, when we first met.”

“With the only difference that you're always the pretty one out of the two of us. I mean-” he laughed “Look at you, all these years have passed and you remain as beautiful as then if not more. It looks like not a single day has passed.” he breathed out the small confession, letting some of his truth slip into his words as he admired you. Things he had not been able to tell you back then slipped from his lips in a matter of seconds, though not any more easily.

“Yeah, as if.” you scoffed a laugh, looking down with a shake of your head “Besides, I remember someone else being the most popular kid in the school, even if you were the new guy. I mean, you had all the girls practically begging for a single look from you Dean. It was as if you were some god walking amongst us, even with some of that bad boy attitude. It had never been like that for me and the boys, heck I can't even remember a single guy that looked at me like I was a goddess or anything.”

If only you had decided to turn your head and take a look at him then you would get to see that and so much more. He had always looked at you as if you had put the stars up in the sky for him. Sam's words, not his. And if he had scarred off any guy with a single look or a couple more words during that time, it wasn't because he was acting worse than a territorial Alpha. Again Sam's words. The kid did talk a lot, yes, Dean had decided early on back in high school.

“I mean-” another laugh from you brought him back to the present “It's no surprise that none of the guys asked me out in Winter Ball back in high school, I didn't make it easier with how closed off I was back then.” and Dean and his looks didn't make it easier for the few that were about to ask either “So I'm cool with being alone this Christmas too. But what's really surprising is how someone like you is. I mean, you didn't go to that Winter Ball with anyone either, I remember that correctly?”

“No uh yeah, you're right. I never went to that one with anyone. Even though some girls-” he stopped himself before shaking his head, a laugh slipping past his lips as he he looked down for a moment.

“What?” you asked with a sweet grin and he almost caved right then and there. Or maybe he did, maybe he should at last.

“I just- I never realized my life was such a bad Hallmark Movie. I mean, I always thought it was a tragedy but no, gosh, it's a sappy Christmas movie.” he laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, taking in your laugh and the way it made his heart flutter.

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean-” he paused, he could take it back, he could change it, come up with something else and all this would be forgotten but then... then another chance would be lost again and this, this was not the same life anymore; he was not the same man, or better yet he was finally the man he wanted to be with a life he wanted and had full control over “I mean to say that... I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool because I've always had feelings for you but- but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single, so maybe this is some second chance? Cause if it ain't that, then, it sure is a sappy movie or a cheesy fanfic... with a bad ending.”

The words were out before he could take them back. And part of him felt proud for himself, after years of endless pining and daydreaming - clearly Sam's words, thank you very much - he never thought there would come a day when he said all of this and yet here he was. Another part of him, a greater part, felt terrified. You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parted in shock and he had to hold himself from taking it back. He had lost one chance he wasn't going to lose this one too, no matter the outcome. And the outcome he did fear especially when there were no words coming out of you. His heart was pounding in his chest, all of his blood rushing in his ears and his lungs hurting because of how long he was holding his breath. His worry was slowly but surely turning into fear, however before he could say anything - not to take it back but to make you feel less bad about having to turn him down. It was an option, very plausible given how much of a catch you were as opposed to him, you spoke up.

“Or...” you spoke softly, playing nervously with the sleeve of your sweater “Or there is a third option, you know. I mean-” you shrugged and he felt like he was forever holding his breath, waiting for you to look into his eyes, holding his gaze for a few seconds before you spoke up “I always liked fanfics with happy endings?” before he could get to question you, you pointed upwards. And as his eyes followed yours, he did take notice of what you previously had. He blinked in surprise a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“Personally, I love cheesy movies or fanfics.” you said and looked back at you he noticed the shy grin that was on your lips and he made him feel 18 all over again “And if that mistletoe hasn't been there all this time... then, well, I think the new guy that's running heaven is really having a fit with our lives right now.”

“I don't know, I will really have to ask him next time I see him I think. Sam did love to tell him about my endless pinning and daydreaming every time Christmas was around.” a heartfelt laugh made his chest rumble, pleasant tingles filling up his entire body especially as he heard you giggle.

“Did you now? Wow. This day is full of surprises, then.” you bit your lower lip for a moment before adding “Well you what, we're gonna have a family gathering and dinner for the holidays tomorrow. I know it's on short notice but if you'd like to then... you know you're always welcome in my place and-”

“I would love to come, yes.” he breathed out almost embarrassingly fast, but your smile made it all worth it.

“Wonderful!” you grinned You don't need to bring anything, we've got everything, but if you'd wanna you can bring Miracle. And if Sam manages to make it here until tomorrow then he's more than welcome too.”

“Sure, I'll tell him. See if can be here.” he would but he already knew that Sam would do anything to give the two of you more time together so he knew he wouldn't be showing up “The real question here is: Will that aunt of yours be there?”

A beautiful laugh immediately came from your before you looked at him a bit apologetically “For a moment there I thought you'd have forgotten. Yeah, sorry, there's not way to avoid that.”

“So long as I'm not sitting right next to her on the dinner table, I think I will survive.”

“She's gonna keep her hands to herself, I'm sure. Besides-” you shrugged softly, looking up at him through your lashes “I don't think she would hit on my date too.”

“No, I don't think she would either. But in case you need to make it more obvious, kisses are allowed 24/7.” he said with an innocent shrug.

“Ah yes, about that.” you smiled, leaning up to peck his cheek “I would love to give you more, hopefully very soon. Especially in front of the Christmas tree at my own apartment afterwards, while we catch up.”

His eyes widened in surprise and you giggled before he breathed out “Gosh, I freaking love cheesy fanfics.”

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leejungchans · 3 years

Text

— beach confessions.

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): mentions of struggles with self-esteem

notes: words in [ ] represent the editors’ comments added in post-production; words in bold represent those spoken in english!!

summary: juliet opens up during the beach confession activity on ateez treasure film.

a/n: watching this episode made me super teary :’) i hope you like this one! thank you for reading and feel free to leave feedback and/or chat with me!! have a nice day!! 💕💕

you can watch the episode here!

On one of their last nights in Sydney, the production team takes ATEEZ to the beach for a team mission they titled “Be bold enough to be blamed”, where they are to be honest with each other and confess to their blunders.

“Let’s listen to what each other has to say, no holding grudges, though!” Wooyoung says to them.

“No holding grudges!” Hongjoong agrees passionately before saying, “Forgive whatever each other confesses!” with Wooyoung in unison.

Juliet laughs. “Life is all about forgiveness,” she jokes, to which the leader turns on her and nods approvingly. [The maknae’s wise words]

“That’s right.”

She ponders over what to confess as she gazes out to the shoreline. It’s truly a beautiful night, the beach isn’t too crowded due to the late hour and the moon illuminates the waves. From where she is currently standing on the platform leading to the beach, she can still see the glimmering lights of the Sydney skyline.

Off-camera, the staff asked her to go first seeing that she is the youngest, but she was so nervous that Jongho volunteered to go instead. Juliet gives him a grateful smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand before he walks down the stairs from the platform and down to the designated spot on the beach, where more staff members are waiting with their filming equipment.

Jongho starts his confession off by asking them to scream for five seconds. Surprisingly, most of the members oblige without giving it a second thought. To her right, Seonghwa looks on in bewilderment. “Why are we doing this?” he murmurs, causing Juliet to giggle and elbow him softly.

“As the youngest member!” Jongho starts, but Wooyoung chimes in before he can continue.

“Come again?”

The youngest member laughs, already able to picture Jongho’s frustrated face. [ㅋㅋㅋ Wooyoung is funny] She is not disappointed when he angrily yells back a “Listen carefully!” in response, and the members dissolve into a fit of laughter at his cute reaction.

Despite the hilarious beginning, the rest of the youngest male’s confession takes a serious turn as he admits to having trouble expressing his feelings, as well as thanking the group for embracing this trait of his regardless.

Without realising, tears start forming in Juliet’s eyes as she listens to his heartfelt words. As the maknaes, Jongho is her partner in crime and a silent support, always there to encourage her. Despite his confession, she thinks that his company and friendship mean more to her than he can ever imagine.

When Jongho finishes, she reaches up to dab at her eyes gingerly with the sleeve of her sweater while the others shout praises, also clearly touched from his words.

Seonghwa cranes his head to find the maknae already wiping away her tears. “Oh no, she’s already crying,” he coos, arm reaching around to pull Juliet into a half-hug and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. [Jongho’s touching words makes Juliet cry] This attracts the attention of the other members and the staff, and Juliet waves a hand in front of her face to signal to the latter that she’s okay and that the filming can continue.

“Aigoo, don’t cry, Julie,” Yunho, who is standing to her left, says as he strokes her hair. “There’s still eight of us left, you’ll be sobbing mess by the end,” he teases lightly.

Yeosang goes next, followed by Wooyoung, who confesses to being the one who didn’t do the dishes after eating ramen, prompting shouts of protest from the members.

“This is not cool!”

“So it really was you!”

Yunho leans on the railings. “Hey! You were the first one who got mad!”

Juliet smiles fondly, remember the chaos that ensued that night as they all debated on the culprit as no one had stepped forward to confess. At the time, it did cause some slight tension because someone had to have done it, and everyone was frustrated that no one was admitting to it. But looking back years later, it was a memory that the nine of them alone shared, no matter how many times they recount the story over their lifetimes.

She watches in relative silence during Mingi, Yunho and San’s turns, only bursting into giggles when the tallest member divulges that he accidentally kicked Mingi’s laptop the day before, causing the rapper to roar with halfhearted outrage.

However, the tears make a reappearance when San talks about his low self-esteem and thanks the members for their constant encouragement and affirmation. It genuinely pains her to see San, or any of the others, for that matter, to think of themselves poorly, because she couldn’t imagine any other people to share this journey with.

“You’re the best!” she yells with all her might, hoping he feels her sincerity.

The staff decides that she will go after Seonghwa and before Hongjoong. When Seonghwa’s turn ends, she races down the beach to give him a hug after his sentimental sharing. The eldest hands her the white flag printed with ATEEZ’s logo that each member had been holding during their confessions before running back to the others.

“Members! Can you hear me?” she yells as she waves the flag enthusiastically upon realising that they are further away from her than she had thought.

“Juliet! Please don’t cry!” San call out to her.

“If you cry, we’ll cry too!” Mingi adds.

“No promises!” she responds, laughing nervously and taking a deep breath. “I know it can feel weird having only one girl as your member, so I’m really sorry if my addition to the group has made any of you feel uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever told you guys this, but I always worry that I’m going to affect ATEEZ negatively and be a burden to you...” [The youngest opens up about her deepest feelings]

More tears spring to Juliet’s eyes once the words leave her lips, and she pauses to wipe away her tears. A staff member discreetly passes her a tissue off-camera. [Don’t cry, Juliet...ㅠㅠ] She’s kept such feelings buried for a long time, not knowing how to approach this topic with the boys and not wanting them to feel bad for her.

But she’s seen the comments—comments saying that her addition to ATEEZ will only drag the group down, like how they wouldn’t be able to be nominated for any boy group categories at award shows as ATEEZ isn’t a boy group for as long as she is in the group.

Reading those comments hurt. A lot. Juliet knows that the boys are aware of them, and she also knows that they do their best to shield her from seeing them. But if there’s one thing she’s learnt from being an idol, it’s that no matter how hard people—your company, your members, your family and friends—try to protect you from malicious remarks, they will find you regardless, plaguing your thoughts during the day and haunting your dreams when night falls. They make her question if she truly belongs, even if she knows deep down that the boys love her more than anything.

“Please don’t think like that!” Seonghwa yells, his voice cracking at the end. The maknae can’t see his face at the moment, but she will soon find out from watching the episode that his eyes were glossed over, overcome with emotion.

She hears Hongjoong’s voice next. “Yah! Who told you to think like that? I’ll beat them up!”

“That’s right!” Wooyoung agrees, “Jongho will come and beat them!”

“I will!”

Juliet laughs weakly at their half-serious threats before continuing with her confession. “The last thing I want to say is thank you! Thank you for being nothing but kind to me since the very beginning! I was really scared at first, but you guys quickly proved to me that I had nothing to worry about.”

She stops momentarily to sniff softly. “I hope you know that you all are very precious to me, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my second family. And I’m so thankful that you got to come to my hometown with me! Members, fighting! I hope ATEEZ can stay together for a long time! I love you!”

“I love you!”

With a bow towards the camera crew, Juliet runs clumsily back up the beach where she meets Hongjoong halfway as he heads to where she previously stood for his turn. The leader wraps his arms around her.

“Seonghwa’s right,” he says quietly so the microphones can’t catch his words, “don’t think like that. You are never a burden, Minyoung-ah, you are just as important to the group as any of us are.”

Juliet nods, raising her head from Hongjoong’s shoulder to see that the others have joined them on the beach, pulling the both of them into a group hug. [Nine makes one team ♡]

Juliet doesn’t know how she feels about destiny, but she thinks that it brought her to these eight boys who became her second family. For the first time in a while, she feels like she truly belongs.

#scenarios.juliet #ateez 9th member #ateez ninth member #9th member of ateez #kpop oc #idol oc #ateez oc #kpop addition #idol addition #ateez addition #kpop imagines #idol imagines #ateez imagines #kpop au #idol au #ateez au

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

Text

Birthday Sequence

Three friends have their birthday in a month of each other, and the parties get progressively more interesting. Content warnings for coarse language, offscreen sexuality, underage drinking and the consequences thereof.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed reading, and if you want to chat or ask a question, my askbox is open.

~*~*~*~

"You look great."

Idia made a whine you were certain they could hear in Savannahclaw and put his face in his hands. "Why did no one tell me about the birthday event?"

"I dunno, because we'd all assumed you'd seen everyone else put on the prissy little birthday boy suit and dance around like an idiot while I did an interview, and realized you weren't exempt."

"But why didn't you make Crowley skip me?" He looked ready to cry, so you you got up on tiptoes to kiss his nose and dry his tears, which simply had the opposite effect.

"Because maybe I wanted to see you dressed up pretty for a change?"

He just groaned. "Wasn't the festival enough?"

"Never enough; not with you. I'll make sure me and Ortho are your bodyguards, okay? Now, get out there and pretend they're all in their underwear. I got a present on the table for you. And..."

"And?"

"If you're truly overwhelmed, I'll bring you back here to hide, and get you out of the monkey suit myself."

It took him three seconds to turn a truly absurd shade of pink, and flee out the door of his room. The only thing scarier than a crowd where you're the center of attention is a lover who's relentless in voicing her attraction, if you're a neurotic dweeb with a molten core of self-hatred.

~*~*~*~

He'd relaxed somewhat as the presents went on. After checking with each person if they'd rather he open it now or in private (shuddering every time someone said now, in fear of bad reactions), he'd so far wound up with a super mega deluxe vinyl release of the Moirai's most recent album (despite not owning a record player, but it came with the digital album and lots of feelers so he still liked it very much), piles of sweets, and wouldn't have to pay for the subscriptions on most of his game for at least two years. And, he still had a pile to go through.

"Who's this one?"

"That's me. Go ahead."

He lifted the lid off the box, and took out a little creature, a sofubi toy of transluscent grey plastic painted with pearly stripes and shiny green eyes. "I've never seen this Nyarochi before." He turned it this way and that, a small smile on his lips. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it blank at that second hand shop you showed me."

"... Blank." You could see the gears turning.

"Why do you think I asked to borrow your airbrush?"

Turning, turning... there we go. "You did this?"

"Yeah, dude. One of a kind, just for you."

He looked back and forth between you and the toy, smile growing. Once finally settled on you, he lit up - literally; his hair let out a bright, sparking burst that left spots in your eyes. You think he might have said thank you, you were too busy reeling from the sweetness of his expression, all directed at you, and little Nyarochi was tucked in his jacket pocket until he finally left for his room, you in tow.

~*~*~*~

"Hey Sam."

"Hey, Yuu. What can I get for you this fine day?"

"I got a list. I'm making something for Lilia. Did you know he's a new year's baby?"

"I did!" Sam scanned the list, only to set it down and raise an eyebrow at you. "I have much of this, and can order almost all the rest. You do know I'm not allowed to sell alcohol to a minor."

"It ain't for me, though. Do you know where I can get it?"

He shuffled around in a drawer before sliding a card across the table. "In Stock Now! The solution to your problem."

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Sam. Does Crowley know you're selling fake IDs?" Your turned it over. "Really, really good fake IDs?"

"Crowley lets me do what I want, because I might stop doing what he wants."

You laughed. "Gross. Alright, I don't know the price, but can I get a discount if I help you stock a few weekends?"

"I'll do layaway just for you, if you come in next week."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu!" Lilia leapt at you, and you swung him around in a hug. "It's so great to have you here! Where's my loot?"

"I got to finish it, let me go a minute."

He did, and watched with interest as you set up from your cooler. You ran a lime around the rim of a glass, and crust it with red salt before filling it with ice.

"Yuuuuuuu. My little darling. You know I'm too young to drink."

"No you're not, dude. it's an open secret, like what happens in that shed behind the gym stays there and you don't get admitted to NRC if you're completely heterosexual." You added the mix to the glass, before tossing in a celery stick and sliding it over to him.

He barked out a laugh and took the glass. "That's true all right." He sipped at it and smiled. "What is it?"

"At home they call it a Caesar. I made up a shitton and I'm leaving you with the recipe, which you have to follow. I figure you liked your tomato juice, so..."

"It is just my taste. Thank you." You'd only blinked, and he'd already finished it and slid the glass back. "More, please."

~*~*~*~

You'd learned two things tonight, of which you'd only dimly suspected one. The first was that Lilia could probably drink the entire school under the table, staff and ghosts included. The second, far more interesting thing, was that when tipsy, Lil talked about his past, and in his past, he truly redefined the meaning of "absolute slut".

Looking like a particularly cute teenybopper had not stopped him from fucking his way through most of the Court of Thorns, and a great deal of the places he'd visited, in ways both inventive and more than occasionally disturbing. You really, really ought to stop him; poor Mal was standing out on the balcony with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to drown out the noise, but you were too busy taking notes. Kalim was listening to his fellow Light Music Club member in awe, and Cater had been recording for the past forty five minutes, though you were pretty sure if he uploaded any of this his Magicam account would get permabanned for pornographic content.

"And that's when his sister - fabulous woman, cunt like a ripe fig and she'd start giggling every time you..." he stopped and swirled his empty glass. "Where'd my drink go?"

"You drank it all, dear. There's none left."

"Aww. Why'd I have to share it all." He set his glass down and plucked the half-full one from in front of Silver's sleeping form. "Hey, did I ever tell you what I got up to with his," nodding out towards Malleus,"his grandmother?"

You never found out, as Mal simply bodied him clean across the room before any more could be said.

~*~*~*~

"Vil."

"What."

"Can I borrow your lab equipment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"I wanna make perfume."

He brightened. "Finally decided to stop smelling like a haunted house?"

"Vil, I actually pay real money for perfume that smells like a haunted house. I have multiple. Sometimes I layer them, to mix with the natural scent of the haunted house I already live in. And it's not for me, though if this works I might try to make stuff for myself."

He wrinkled his nose at you, somehow not creasing his makeup. "Why should I help you?"

You thought about it, and then shrugged. "Well. Why not?"

"... I hate that I can't argue with that. Come on."

~*~*~*~

You have no idea if the party was sedate because of the relatively few people outside of Diasomnia, or because everyone was scared of potential etiquette breaches. You could not complain either way; parties wore on you as they went on and Idia hadn't tried to leave in fear. Either way, Mal was starting to go from blandly cheerful host to fretful.

"What if there is too much cake? I don't wan't to have to finish it."

"You don't have to, dude. Cake's for sharing."

"When I was young, I was the only person at my party who wasn't a servant. So I would end up eating the entire cake by myself, every time." He stared off into the middle distance. "I don't really like cake."

"That's the single saddest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, holy shit dude."

"Why have a cake then, if you don't like it?" Idia was halfway through his piece. Third piece, actually. You envied his capacity to eat what seemed like his weight in buttercreme and not get nauseous, even if you worried for his pancreas.

"Tradition," Mal said, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

"You should have done an ice cream cake, then. You actually like that."

"That is an option?" He paused, eyes full of wonder. "What else can be ice cream?"

You cut in before Malleus could continue down a road of ice-cream-everything. "You know, if you're that worried about leftovers, why not send a wrapped slice with the thank you cards for the gifts? Gets rid of it all so you won't be compelled to eat it ‘til you're sick."

Mal instantly grabbed you. "You are a brilliant, amazing, genius of a person. I'm glad you're my Son of Man and I like you very much."

Idia gave the tinest of coughs, looking towards the poison-coloured flames in the fireplace.

"You are mine too. I like the special case for my Dragon-Kun very much."

"Thought you would." He smiled down at his plate.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Here's mine." You brought the bag out from behind your seat and handed it over; Mal shredding it in his excitement.

"... What is this?" the box inside revealed a set of five amber bottles with screw-on tops.

"Your own special perfume blend. Rose petals from the Heartslabyul garden, blackberries, and the fruit of a blackthorn tree." You leaned back in your seat and struggled not to laugh at your own hideous pun. "I call it Feeling Thorny."

Good thing the box was well padded, because he dropped it in his laughter. Idia, bless his heart, wound up choking on some of the cake and needed an entire glass of water to stop coughing.

"I got the goods!" Lilia and Sebek had returned, the latter glowering at you over the top of a dusty crate as though he'd assumed you'd simply eat his precious prince alive the second his back was turned.

"What's the goods, Lil."

"Well, he's got friends he made here for this party, so I figured I'd crack something open from my stash." He pried the top of the crate with his bare hands, which would have made you need to sit down if you hadn't been already. "Saving this for a special occasion."

"Lilia, there's no need to bring that out for us."

"Nonsense! You deserve it! And this party's too damned slow. A little wine will be just the thing, and this is very light stuff, you'll all be fine."

You doubted that, but still accepted the glass of liquid gold when offered. It smelled sweet and floral, and to your pleasant surprise, did not taste like fermented misery when sipped.

Wait a minute.

"Lil, if I drink the fairy wine, I don't have to go live in the Valley of Thorns forever, do I?"

Malleus, seizing opportunity, sad "Yes" at the same time Lilia said "No" and Lil elbowed Mal in the ribs for it. "I'm not invoking any of our more traditional rules of hospitality. If I must," he said, elbowing Mal again before he could try to weave anything, "Let this be in return for being such wonderful friends to both me and my boy."

"I'll accept it." You sipped more as Silver wandered over and leaned over Idia for a glass himself. Idia simply drained his own to try and distract himself from the proximity of him before the anxiety kicked into high gear. Maybe it would vanish entirely if you got him profoundly drunk, you thought to yourself, but that wasn't something you wanted to try. He had enough issues without his deciding alcoholism was the solution to his problems.

Time to settle down and enjoy the evening. The wine didn't feel like anything, so what could possibly happen?

~*~*~*~

You woke up with a pounding head, your party clothes in disarray, and new and interesting pains. You examined yourself and your surroundings, and let things come back naturally.

Lilia, being very generous with his bottles, to the point of not letting a glass go empty at any point. Malleus sitting with his legs crossed and head in his hands, gazing warmly and not without hunger at a both very animated and disheveled Idia as he talked. You getting up to leave, and sitting right back down because your legs didn't work, so you'd simply...

Simply wound up here in Mal's bed, instead of home. With both of your boys.

The evidence wasn't the best. No telltale soreness, but you had a number of new and interesting bite marks, including one very high on your inner thigh with the dentition clearly showing fangs. Your underwear was in place, even if the tule of your pannier was shredded, so you didn't think you'd done anything more than very heavy petting. And to tell the truth? The idea of having done anything more didn't bother you - truly, there weren't other people you'd rather have done it with - but the idea that you had? And you couldn't recall all the fun details? Agonizing.

You leaned over, holding your head, to brush the hair off of Mal's face. He looked at ease, and had managed to slot himself into his weird pillows, so at least he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.. You checked your boyfriend, clinging to Mal's far side like a lanky blue limpet. On his collarbone, at the spot where you preferred to leave your own marks, was a bite similar to the one on your leg. You had to turn away at the sight; the images it brought to your mind left your flushed and dizzy with want despite your pain. How fun, to learn new and interesting things about yourself.

Idia stirred and sat up. He looked to you, to Mal, to you again. His face had no expression beyond starting to turn rapidly grey and sweaty.

You pointed. "That door."

He nodded once before stumbling off to bed and through the bathroom door, to puke away his hangover.

Alright, next step. You poked at your sleeping friend. "Mal. You alive?"

He opened both eyes, bloodshot with a hair-thin pupil, and started making a noise akin to a base boosted tea kettle up 'til you placed a pillow over his head to shut him up. Fortunately, it worked immediately, he lay where he was like an idiot until adjusting it so the pillow merely blocked the top of his face.

"Yuu. How are you feeling?"

You thought about it. "Like I got run through a laundry press. You?"

He smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth has grown fur."

"Wonderful."

"Light hurts."

"Par for the course."

"I'm not sure what else yet. Where is Shroud?"

Another bout of heaving from Malleus's bathroom answered that thoroughly.

Mal pouted. "Poor thing. He didn't even have that much."

"We all had enough. I'm still remembering bits and pieces."

He reached towards you and grabbed your arm, squeezing. "You are... you..." As much as he struggled for the words, the anxiety in his voice made the meaning clear enough.

"I'm not upset over any of it. I just hate that I don't recall it clearly yet." You extracted your arm from his grasp, and slid off the bed. "I'm gonna get water from the hall bathroom. You want any?"

He smacked his lips again, and smiled, wider than you'd ever seen him do before, specks of blood still crusted in the grooves of his teeth. "I can still taste you on my tongue. I never want it to fade."

"Hhhhhholy shit you need water. Bye." You left to try and hide the wobbling in your legs that wasn't from the hangover.

~*~*~*~

"You."

You stopped, and stared. It took an entire four seconds to realize that the large, half-dressed green bean glaring at you from the doorway was Sebek before he styled his hair in the morning. "You mean like, my name, or just me in general?"

He pointed a finger, hissing out his words. "You finally did it! You evil little minx."

"I didn't, actually, or at least not what you think."

He kept going, trying to keep his voice down. "You've seduced Lord Malleus! And now you're going to try and steal the crown."

What in the actual fuck. And he wasn't done yet. "You cruel temptress! Leading him on just so that you could become a queen our people would detest! My poor lord, at the whims of some-"

"Hey, you jealous there, Zig? You mad you aren't serving him all ways? If you want his dick so bad-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" He looked over his shoulder, back inside, before glaring back at you. "I couldn't do that in good conscience! Lord Malleus deserves someone who holds only him in their heart. He's not my whole heart, so I wouldn't try. You, you have damn near everyone here wrapped around your fingers! And it's still not enough for you!"

"Sebek! He is my friend. And I give zero fucks about the whole throne thing, just so you know. Why would I want to be a queen? That shit sounds exhausting. And he isn't going to ascend until my great grandkids are in the dirt, so, yanno, shit planning if I tried."

Sebek was trying to think of a rebuttal when a pair of hands squeezed him from behind. "Stop yelling. I'm going to brush my teeth." Silver let go and circled around, dragging his hand along Sebek's waist as he did. "Be ready when I'm back." With that, he walked past you with his small smirk to the bathroom you'd just exited, wearing nothing but one of Sebek's shirts.

You watched the hemline skirting the back of his thighs with entirely too much interest before looking back at Sebek. "God damn, dude."

"Say anything else and I will throw you out the window."

~*~*~*~

Mal had traded his bed for sitting on the floor, braced against the wall by the bathroom. He'd managed to close the drapes against the garish light of morning, and the sounds from beyond the wall had changed from sickness to a running shower as you gave Mal a cup. "Drink up, asshole."

"How am I an asshole?"

"Because it's your birthday we all got drunk at."

"Please blame Lilia for that. Fairy wine is not something humans should start the evening with." He sipped the water and grimaced.

"Taste bad?"

"I forgot I didn't want to put anything else in my mouth after you."

"Mal, no. There won't be a repeat, even if I don't really regret it."

He looked at you with heart about to break. "Why not?"

"It's not fair to either of you! I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with him." You sighed. Even as more of last night came back, you realized you may have broken the whole thing beyond repair. "And how would you like it if you saw me running around with someone else? Don't say you wouldn't be jealous. You've got a five mile streak of it."

Mal was silent, before saying very quietly, "I don't mind so much after having him too."

"Yeah, well." You put your head in your hands. "You're sure he didn't jump out the window to hide in his room forever after that?"

Mal knocked againt the door, wincing at the noise. "Idia? You are present? You're alive in there?"

A few moments before that shaky reply of "I'm not sure, check in five minutes."

Mal smiled. "That's promising, is it not?"

"You know I can hear you out there, right?"

"I didn't."

"I can." More silence. "Also, the window doesn't open."

You quirked your mouth. "Is the shower helping? I might need a turn."

"Some."

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

More silence, before a small, "Not yet," as the shower shut off. "Can I borrow a robe? My clothes are wet."

"Go ahead, Idia."

He exited in a cloud of steam and purple-black terrycloth, and simply laid down on the floor, gripping it as if he would fly off.

"Still bad?"

He noded, cheek pressed against the floor. Fresh from the water, his hair was low enough that you could make out the actual hair on his head, each glowing like the finest fiber optic thread.

"Well. I don't think any of us are going to class today. So stay as long as you need to."

"Thank god, I don't want to try those damned stairs until my head's on right." You thought to yourself for a moment. "Is Ortho okay?"

Idia actually managed a smile. "I told him I was thinking of staying over and trying to activate event flags."

It took you a moment to understand the implications of that. "Noooo. This was not your idea."

"Mal wasn't. But. Ummmmm." He held up a hand and wiggled it. "He was there?"

"Your boyfriend is interestingly pliable when someone puts their mouth on him. A trait you both share, actually."

You felt ready to burst into flames. This could not be happening. "So who's idea was you getting under my skirts, Mal? That bruise is going to last weeks."

"Yours, actually. You wouldn't let go of my horns until you were satisfied."

The memory of that, and more, hit you like a transport truck, and you simply laid down and refused to say anything until Lilia burst in, disgustingly chipper and with a platter of burnt toast to chew on until the worst of the hangover was gone.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia

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kazimakuwabara · 3 years

Text

8. Concession

summary: Deals are struck to appease the sick and appease the worrying. (one piece, slight SanUso)

***

“His temperature is high,” Chopper sighed stepping outside of his office with a frown. He kept his voice low, in case the patient was listening. “Really high... He needs to eat and drink more, but he’s putting up a resistance.”

Chopper rubbed his chin, concern weighing down his brow, “It’s a simple illness, an infection of the throat and sinuses. Strep throat. But his pain response to it... it’s as if he’s never been sick before!”

“Well... Usopp has claimed to have never been sick a day of his life,” Nami sighs, hands on her hips, and her gaze glaring at the door, “But I thought that was another... tall tale of his!”

“Surely he’s been sick before... at least once!” Brook argued, tapping his skeletal fingers to his teeth.

"I gotta admit... I've seen a lot of us sick, but I don't think I've seen Usopp-bro sick," Franky mused. He chuckled suddenly, before adding, "Well, not something he didn't invent anyway..."

“I’m not sure. I’m going to take a look at his blood for antibodies, but based on his fever and his reactions to the pain, I’m not sure if he's had this illness before. I really think it’s his first time experiencing this... which can be a problem. Mild illnesses are worse in adulthood if you’ve never experienced them in your youth!” Chopper sighed.

“Isn’t he just being a bad patient?” Zoro protested, “He’s just whining.”

“A temperature doesn’t lie, idiot,” Sanji snapped, a tray of soup and water in hand, “If Chopper says it’s bad, then it’s bad!”

Zoro glared at the cook, an insult ready on his lips, but Luffy, his usually cheerful tone subdued, interrupted, “Don’t fight. Usopp’s head was hurting from the noise earlier.”

The crew fell quiet, anxiety twisting in their stomachs over Luffy’s obvious concern. Finding out Usopp wasn't feeling his best, had been a bit of a shock.

In the middle of an escape from the Marines, Usopp had burst into tears over the noise of a canon, before collapsing on the ground. It hadn’t been too abnormal a sight, but his tears were normally from being scared... and not from pain. This had obviously been the latter, and the sight of it had shocked the group. Usopp had been gathered up and taken to Chopper's office immediately. More alarming than any complaint he could have made was his muttering that he was fine, despite his obvious fever, and flushed complexion.

“Usopp was hurting a lot,” Luffy mumbled, folding his arms with a frown.

A crew member falling sick was never a happy occasion, but in their years sailing together, Usopp had indeed, never gotten sick. His boasting over his good health had oddly been a comfort for the crew. He was normally the first to check on a downed crewmate, telling them stories, or encouraging them to take medicine. There was many an occasion Luffy's fast recoveries could be credited to Usopp, for tricking his Captain into taking his gross tasting medicine, thanks to some tale he wove.

And if asked to not get to close to the paitent he would laugh, “I never get sick! Never. While, I’ll have you know...” and then he’d launch into a story about how his family was blessed with good health, or that Usopp had sailed on the sea when he was seven, to do some great quest that caused his good health.

It was clockwork. Usopp didn’t get sick. He faked them. He did not succumb to them.

A cough from behind Chopper’s closed door caused the Straw Hats to jump.

Anxious eyes turned to the door, unease settling over them like a blanket.

“Has he eaten anything?” Robin asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“Not yet...” Chopper admitted, “He’s struggling even taking water right now.”

Sanji, straightened his back, his grip on the tray getting surer.

“Well, he won’t turn my food down. Water and a light soup. It’s not too much much, and he’ll find the taste to his liking,” Sanji said with a nod, marching towards the door.

“If he could at least drink all the water... I don’t want to resort to an I.v.,” Chopper half pleaded, a brave smile on his face.

“He’s not going to die from this,” Zoro said, brown furrowed with frustration, “He’s going to be fine!” He seemed grumpier with Usopp laid up.

Franky opened the door for Sanji, and offered a grin of reassurance, “Good luck bro!”

Sanji entered Chopper’s office with firm steps. He flinched a little as the door closed behind him, suddenly finding himself squinting at the dimmed light of the room.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust; Usopp was easy to spot on the bed, his black hair flowing like ink over his pillow. His dark skin was ashen, and his eyes were closed. He was frowning, the pain of his throat most likely the cause.

Sanji hated it when people were sick.

Nami’s brave sick face comes to mind. As does his mother’s. Both thoughts fill him with dread. Smiling while sick... he'd rather no one did that.

He feels cruel to suddenly be grateful Usopp isn’t hiding behind a brave smile.

Sanji sets the tray down on the desk by Usopp’s bedside with an intentional noise. Usopp’s body flinches, as if the noise had hurt him, and he peeks out at Sanji beneath heavy lashes... pouting at Sanji in greeting.

He’s not putting on a brave face, and again Sanji feels selfish to be happy about it.

Moved by relief, and an unexpected surge of compassion, Sanji reaches out to cup Usopp’s face. Usopp is burning up beneath his touch.

“Hey there... You’ve got to eat,” Sanji says, his words slow and awkward. He hadn’t really known what to say, especially now that he's touched him out of the blue.

Usopp makes an expressive frown but remains quiet. His dark eyes are locked onto Sanji, but they are darting over Sanji's face. He doesn't seem to know where to look, or perhaps, even lying down, he is too dizzy to focus on the cook's face.

“Can you sit up for water, at the very least?” Sanji asks thumb stroking Usopp’s cheek. He doesn’t know where the doting has come from, but he doesn’t push it down. They’re alone after all... no one to see what he’s doing.

Usopp nods, his fevered cheek pressing lightly into Sanji’s cool palm. He stays there a moment and then moves to sit up. His arms are trembling. Sanji reaches gently under those shaking arms and helps the sniper sit up, Usopp pressing his forehead heavily against Sanji’s chest.

His breath is labored from the effort of sitting up.

Is this really just strep throat?

When Usopp’s breath is evened out, Sanji lets him go and reaches for the glass of water. He passes it to Usopp, who takes it obediently; quietly.

That quiet is so disturbing. Usopp is a small ball of chaos, smaller and more predictable than fluffy, but he's loud and exuberant. The quiet doesn't suit him.

“I know Chopper gave you medicine... it hurts now, but you’ll be feeling better soon. Chopper’s the best doctor,” Sanji says, unable to help but try and console the ailing sniper. Forcing a smile, Sanji continues, “So... so drink up! The water will help. It’ll help you feel better soon!”

Usopp’s pout grows deeper, but he sips the water. He jolts, wincing sharply, a hand going to his throat. He looks so surprised at the pain.

Nami had smiled so brightly while sick. His mother had eaten her food obediently.

Sanji has one of Usopp’s hands in his own and clings to it. He’s not sure why he’s so scared now.

“Please drink it all. I know it hurts... but I promise you’ll feel better soon,” Sanji says, smiling as wide as he can.

Usopp frowns, and his eyes sluggishly turn to Sanji’s face. His head tilts slightly, and then, he smiles.

Sanji feels choked up at the sight.

Usopp’s feverish hand is suddenly on Sanji’s cheek, and the sniper whispers, “Sanji... stop. It is going to be alright... Don’t make that face.”

Sanji shakes his head, “I’ll... I’ll worry less if you promise to drink this, and have a few bites of soup.”

Usopp nods, head drooping as if it is weighed down. He grunts very softly in agreement. Closing his eyes, Usopp chugs half the water, before his hand goes to his throat. He coughs, his face twisting up from the pain, and Sanji is reaching forward again.

He feels so helpless.

And then Usopp has his arms around him.

Usopp is hot and sticky with sweat. His hug is too heavy and uncomfortable. He buries his face into Sanji’s throat, and sighs, his hot breath adding to the uncomfortableness.

“Stop... making that...face. I’ll get better. Just stop. I’ll be alright... Don’t look so sad,” Usopp whispers, voice strained and weak, "I'll have you know... I'm the fastest at getting better..." It's a weak story, and one with no elaboration.

His strong hands, no longer small like how Sanji remembers them, curl around the lapels of Sanji’s jacket.

“In exchange... feed me. And listen to me complain. But I’ll... get better. So don’t look like... this,” Usopp’s voice is tired, and he sounds concerned.

Sanji hugs Usopp unsure of what face he is making, or how to stop it, so he tells him so.

"I don't know what I look like."

Usopp rubs his cheek against Sanji's hair and mumbles, "Very scared. I don't like... people looking at me like that... about this."

Usopp is trembling.

Sanji abruptly remembers this isn't even a severe illness, and with a much braver and stronger voice insists, "You're going to be fine. We... I'm looking at you like this... because our sniper can't be down for long. You're going to get better. I just hate seeing you like this."

Usopp sighs, and his trembling calms. Somehow, Sanji has managed to bring Usopp comfort, while also comforting himself.

Sanji’s not even sure why all of this is bothering him so much.

Sanji holds Usopp tight, and thinks only of him. He pushes away Nami’s determined flushed face, and his mother's grateful, relieved smile. Nami is still here. His mother is gone. Usopp will be like the former. He'll get better.

All these things are related, and Sanji’s not sure if he understands how.

Usopp told him once, that his mother died when she was sick.

“Are you afraid?” Sanji asks, arms still tightly wrapped around Usopp. It doesn’t matter how uncomfortably hot everything is.

“Not like you,” Usopp whispers, lips brushing Sanji’s throat. “I’ll get better... didn’t I tell you? So no more...” Usopp’s hot hand covers Sanji’s eyes.

“I have to endure it when all of you don’t feel well... so don’t fall apart on me... If I can take it... you can take it too,” Usopp mutters, voice trying to be encouraging, even if the words don’t quite fit.

Sanji remembers all of Usopp’s smiles whenever they fall ill. He’s a good liar. Good at hiding when something is wrong. He too, lost his mother to illness.

Sanji had been worried about Nami when she was sick.

But not like how he had been worried about his mother.

Sanji is worried more for Usopp, over this nonfatal illness. More worried than he ever had been for his mother.

A disconnect in Sanji’s heart, and head--click.

“Ah...” Sanji whispers suddenly understanding something he had been trying not to look at for some time.

He looks down at Usopp in his arms. He’s asleep, his glass empty and bowl of food untouched. Sanji will try again when he wakes up. Usopp promised to get better. And he will. The whole crew, and not just Sanji, will see to it.

Sanji sets Usopp back gently on his pillow, releasing him very carefully.

There’s a lot to think about, but Sanji will deal with that later. Every other thought and feeling is packed away, neatly tucked back inside Sanji for him to deal with at a later time. He’ll go make more soup for Usopp when he wakes up.

Usopp did promise to get better if Sanji stops making whatever face he’s been making. It’s a small price to pay that Sanji will agree to pay while Usopp’s eyes are open.

But if Usopp’s eyes are closed, Sanji decides to worry all he wants, and there’s not a thing the sniper can do about it.

#kazi fanfic #ooo got a lot numbers last night ^^#also ask for as many numbers as ya like #I'll get to em.#Using these as a writing exorcise to challenge myself #Sanuso #lightly #Usopp #one piece #ptsd #hurt and comfort #schelduled post

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH108

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 108: Slaughter Secret Society (X)

"Good, good evening..." Qi Leren, who came out of the basement after completing today's training task, glanced over and saw Ning Zhou sitting on the sofa. The uninvited guest sat straight on the soft sofa, who knows how long he’d been waiting.

Qi Leren, who was covered in sweat, subconsciously looked down at his clothes. This time he was fine, wearing a sports vest, and finally he was not curious-looking: "I’ll take a shower and be right back!"

With that said, Qi Leren ran upstairs to first wash himself quickly.

Perched on the coat rack, the big black bird let out a strange laugh and seemed to laugh at Ning Zhou, this master of its that had been left on the sofa. The latter gave it a blank look, and under the deterrent of its master's eyes, it made a whistling sound and looked in all directions casually.

After a quick shower, Qi Leren ran down the stairs with a boiling hot water kettle, and poured Ning Zhou and himself a glass of water. The big black bird that was not entertained rattled discontentedly, and Qi Leren had no choice but to pour it a cup. Unexpectedly, the bird was brazen and pushed its luck: "I'm hungry, I want something delicious!"

It also coveted the few rations Qi Leren had left!

Qi Leren was distressed. There weren’t many "pleasing rations". By now, they had all been fed to this bird... But this was Ning Zhou's bird. Right now, he had to count on Ning Zhou for help. Alright, let's feed…

"Ignore it." Before Qi Leren took out the food, Ning Zhou made a noise to stop him.

Qi Leren retracted the hand he’d been about to feed it with in good faith.

The big black bird looked at its master resentfully, pecked his ear discontentedly, and flapped its wings to fly away.

"Your bird has character... but its very smart. What's its name and breed?" Qi Leren asked.

Even outside of the mission, where Ning Zhou was no longer equipped with the Closed Meditation skill, he was still quiet, rarely saying anything: "It has no name, the species is an eagle, and its habitat is in the Jinghai Desert."

Qi Leren's regional understanding of the Nightmare World basically comes from his playing Nightmare Game, and he vaguely remembered that the Jinghai Desert was the location of the Underground Ant City, hiding the nest-like underground world under its scorching and horrible desert, as well as the scorching Purgatory deep underground, which was a place where demons ran rampant.

There were really too few topics between the two. They’d hardly talked during the Witchcraft Sacrifice. After that, every time they met, the unique circumstances hadn’t allowed them to sit down and chat, but now they were a little embarrassed.

"If it’s an eagle, then doessn’t it speak eagle (English)?" Qi Leren told a pun.*

*{E/N: Ning Zhou says his bird is an eagle (语鹰 yu ying), and Qi Leren tries to joke by saying oh, then wont it speak the language of the eagles (ying yu 鹰语; the same characters but switched), which is a homonym for english (英语 ying yu) }

Ning Zhou gave him a calm, blank look, giving no indication of laughing.

Qi Leren froze, forgetting that Ning Zhou was not a person from the real world. He didn't know what English was!

"Ahem, in the outside world, there is a common language called English. We sometimes use it when we talk. What is Hello, Happy, Hani... Ahem, it’s nothing special, pretend I didn’t say anything." Qi Leren felt that he had suddenly become an emperor of silence, and his heart was in tears. Why was it that he could easily talk to sinister killers when he was acting as Red? Yet now, in the face of his own kind, he often made stupid mistakes?

In fact, he didn’t know what to say to the other party. Why did he say such a thing? Ning Zhou: "...Oh."

For some reason, this silent scene reminded Qi Leren of a long time ago. At that time, he had not yet entered the Nightmare Game, and he was still an unemployed youth who was looking for a job everywhere shortly after graduation. His parents introduced him to a friend's daughter. This sister was dignified and beautiful, that is, she was a little cold. After the exchange of "um, ah, oh, ok, thank you, you're welcome", there was no more…

At this moment, the scene was similar to the picture of that blind date, except the one on the opposite sofa wasn’t quite the right gender.

"I..." Qi Leren was ready to talk about the Slaughter Secret Society.

"You..." Ning Zhou also happened to speak.

The two voices collided.

"You go first."

Two voices collided again, and they went silent at the same time.

Qi Leren began to sweat again. It won't work! This communication is totally impossible! It's embarrassing to sit and talk!

"Are you hungry? I'll make some fried rice." Qi Leren was really a little hungry. It would be better to communicate at the dinner table.

"I don't..." "I'm hungry! I’m so hungry! I'm starving!" Ning Zhou had just said two words when his bird screamed at the top of its lungs, startling Qi Leren.

After being interrupted by it, the atmosphere in the room was finally better. Qi Leren showed a big smile and looked at it gratefully: "If it can eat, I’ll make three servings. Cooking at home is much cheaper than eating outside. Paying the bill when you eat out hurts."

Seeing Qi Leren’s offer, Ning Zhou didn't refuse and silently followed him into the kitchen... A win.

Qi Leren’s mood became complicated when he saw Ning Zhou cutting tomatoes with a kitchen knife. It felt like seeing Dr. Lu approach him; he always felt that the skill points were a little biased.

A pan of fried rice and a pot of soup were finished quickly, and Qi Leren's craftsmanship was OK. After all, he lived alone all the year round, and he would have to eat instant noodles every day if he couldn't cook with his own hands. Ning Zhou, though, seemed almost like a chef, and Qi Leren felt distressed when he thought of his own life experience.

But there was a feeling of friendliness with this chef, and the atmosphere was much better when the two people sat at the dinner table. Qi Leren told Ning Zhou about the Slaughter Secret Society while eating, and how when he saw Ning Zhou listed as the mission goal for the selection ceremony to decide the holder, he’d almost fallen into the trap. Ning Zhou gave him a deep look.

Qi Leren choked for a moment, and he found it was easy to misunderstand, but the explanation made it worse and worse, so he had to bury his head in his food, burping from the anxiety. He was ridiculed by the eagle, who was tasting its unfamiliar fried rice.

After eating, Qi Leren revived his spirits and began to tell Ning Zhou about his plan: "The Slaughter Secret Society’s internal struggle is fierce. The Court always suspected that they could catch Kunagshan because the present keeper agent Lie Yang (Luo Yishan) had secretly leaked his whereabouts, because once the keeper dies, the memento ring will fall into the hands of the keeper agent. Right now, the ring has lost its binding. No matter whose hands it falls into, anyone can use it, but the functions of the half-field are incomplete. The acting ring holder also has the right to hold a selection ceremony to elect the next ring holder, and the new ring holder binds the ring to restore all functions in the half-field. But my presence broke his calculations. He must be worried that I’ll find you before him and sacrifice you to the Lord of Slaughter to become the new holder, so he needs to find a way to get rid of me and hold another selection ceremony. There are too many variables now. So I guess he’ll get rid of me before I finish the task. When there’s only one competitor left, whether the task is completed or not, he’ll become the ring holder. "

Qi Leren's situation at this time was undoubtedly dangerous, but he felt quite safe in this house. After all, the Court’s people shadowed him all the time. It was very difficult for Yang to kill him here. If Yang was being careful, he wouldn’t assassinate him here. The place was too unfamiliar, and his likelihood of failing would be very high. Once he failed, Red would be more vigilant.

In order to assassinate the demonized Red, it was necessary to kill him with one swift and resolute blow and end the battle before he awakened his demonization. The best way was to carry it out in the field. When you entered the field with full confidence and wanted to complete the sacrifice and seize the memento ring…

"There’s a good chance that he’ll rally his men to attack me suddenly and get rid of me after I enter the field. I’ve heard that in many selection ceremonies, it was quite common for candidates to kill each other. The Devil of Slaughter is indifferent to this group of believers, looking at them as no different from beggars. He just likes to watch them kill indiscriminately," Qi Leren said with a frown.

"What are you going to do?" Ning Zhou asked.

Qi Leren glanced at Ning Zhou with trepidation: "This... requires you to be sacrificed..."

Ning Zhou: "..." He had a bad feeling.

Qi Leren was really becoming more and more skilled at convincing his teammates.

-----

Editor’s Notes: A thank you as always to Miko for explaining untranslatable stuff ^_^”

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Reunited Yesterday (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Rumours & Secrets which has not been released in English servers!🍒

Timeline: Chapter 2 -> R&S -> Stray Date

[Note: I won’t be doing R&S translations for the other guys 😅 I translated this for a future analysis]

[Chapter 1]

On a sunny afternoon, the wind chime at Lynn Kitchen’s door sounds, and two young men walk in.

Eli: How does it feel to be back here again?

The man who is questioned sits at the window, his young and handsome face carrying with it a sharp vigour, staring out the window.

Gavin: Nothing much has changed.

The high school opposite, the wide street, the flourishing trees outside the school entrance - nothing has changed.

However, the worn tables and chairs, the new menu, the new banner pasted outside the school gate - all of them displaying traces that time has flowed past.

Eli: Want to take a look at the high school opposite?

Gavin finally retracts his gaze, shaking his head.

Gavin: No need.

As though he doesn’t want to continue with the topic, he tosses and catches the keys in his hand, creating a silver arc.

Eli notices and changes the topic.

Eli: You’ve been back in Loveland City for a few days. How does it feel?

Gavin: Not bad.

Eli: You haven’t had a break since you returned, busying yourself with a few cases. In STF, you’ve already become known as a legendary figure.

Gavin: Is it really that exaggerated?

Gavin raises his eyebrows, but his tone is light.

Eli smiles brightly, patting Gavin on the shoulder.

Eli: Come, today is specially meant to welcome you back. Let’s not talk about other things. On the basis of our friendship, you’ve got to help me when I get a difficult case next time.

Gavin: When did STF start talking about friendship?

Gavin refutes Eli’s words mercilessly, his gaze falling on wall of post-its.

The post-its have changed every year. The old ones have been thrown away, replaced with new ones.

[Chapter 2]

While they talk, the boss carries noodles over. Eli looks at the bowl of beef noodles in front of Gavin and its thick layer of spicy oil, revealing a dumbfounded expression.

Eli: You can really take your spice...

Gavin: When are you going to change your habit of making a fuss out of everything?

Gavin’s eyes sweep over Eli wordlessly, and the latter pouts angrily.

It seems that his atypical ability to handle spicy food serves as a reminder to the boss. He lets out an exclamation and recognises Gavin.

Boss: You used to be a student from the high school opposite, right? It’s been around five years since I’ve seen you... you used to love eating the beef noodles here, do you remember?

Eli isn’t sure if it’s his misperception, but Gavin’s expression is dyed with a faint tenderness.

Gavin: I remember. Whenever I came here to eat back then, the sesame oil added to the chilli was always a bit much.

The boss laughs.

Boss: You brat.

At this moment, there is no one else in the store other than Gavin and Eli. Meeting a former diner, the boss cheerfully chats with Gavin.

Boss: Then, do you remember that lady who often came here with you back then? She still visits, and also likes to have her beef noodles with extra chilli. Come to think of it, she’s now a successful producer, and seems very amazing!

The boss speaks elatedly. Gavin’s gaze shifts faintly, and he opens his mouth after a moment.

Gavin: Does she come here often?

After some thought, the boss responds.

Boss: Not very, but she’ll make a trip here every once in a while. When there’s no one in the shop, she’d sit at, yeah, the seat you’re at now.

Gavin picks up his chopsticks and takes a bite. He furrows his brows. Eli hears him say a sentence in a whisper:

Gavin: I remember she couldn’t really handle spicy food back then.

The boss doesn’t notice Gavin’s strange behaviour, and is still immersed in his emotions.

Boss: This shop has been open for so many years, but students who have graduated and return to eat this bowl of noodles... apart from that lady, there’s only you.

The wind chime at the door suddenly sounds gently, cutting off the boss’ words.

[Chapter 3]

I push the door of the noodle store, and realise in shock that Gavin is here too. My footsteps pause at the entrance.

A subtle wind drifts in from outside the door, stirring up the floating dust in the air.

Gavin is sitting there, the afternoon, genial sun shining on half of his face, dyeing his eyebrows with a slight warmth.

Before I can back away, the boss is already welcoming me cheerfully.

Boss: Miss MC, you’ve come at the right time! We were just talking about you.

The boss looks in Gavin’s direction and continues speaking.

Boss: I wonder what special day it is for the two of you to be here.

I’m frozen in place. Gavin looks straight towards me. What falls on my face is slight heat.

Distant memories surface, and I recall the rebellious teenager I’ve hid in the bottom of my heart.

The teenager who would quietly listen to me play the piano in the music room.

The teenager who reached out to me, his shirt flying up with the breeze.

Gavin’s eyes sweep over me. He arches his brows and smiles faintly.

Gavin: What? Pretending not to recognise me?

His voice is casual. His arm rests on the chair next to him, reducing his frightening edge.

I take a deep breath and finally decide to walk forward, taking the empty seat in front of Gavin.

Boss: What would you like to eat? The usual?

I’m about to nod but immediately change my mind after seeing the beef noodles in front of Gavin.

MC: I want pork noodles.

The boss responds with a sound of agreement. As though sensing the delicate aura between Gavin and I, he hurriedly disappears into the back kitchen.

Eli also finds an excuse to flee, but I shoot him a threatening glare.

Gavin lets out a soft laugh.

Gavin: Are you that afraid to be alone with me?

Looking at his slightly teasing smile, I suddenly relax for some reason.

Gavin pours a cup of tea and places it in front of me.

Gavin: Are you very surprised to see me back in Loveland City?

His tone is light, as though he’s having a casual chat with me.

MC: I was a little shocked at first, but not anymore.

I give Gavin a faint smile, then lift the tea cup in my hand, raising it towards him.

MC: Earlier in STF, I didn’t formally say hello. I’ll use tea to celebrate with you now. To celebrate your promotion as the captain of STF after five years.

Gavin looks at me quietly. He suddenly releases a soft laugh, raising his tea cup to mine.

The crisp sound rings in the shop.

Gavin: Congratulations to you as well. For becoming a successful producer.

MC: ...thank you.

Finally, the boss interrupts this conversation by coming over with noodles.

Boss: Do you need some chilli on the side?

Before I can answer, I hear Gavin speak.

Gavin: She doesn’t need it.

I’m mildly stunned. A little angry, I reach out to take the bottle of chilli on the table.

Gavin grabs the bottle of chilli before my fingers even touch it. My outstretched hand hangs awkwardly in mid-air.

The surrounding air seems to still in that moment.

[Chapter 4]

Eli: Ah... weren’t we talking about Gavin’s promotion just now? Why don’t we raise our tea cups to wish Captain Gavin all the best?

Gavin: Eating noodles isn’t enough to plug your mouth?

MC: It’s not your time to talk.

Gavin and I speak at the same time. When I lift my head once again, I’m caught off guard by his slightly deep gaze.

I recall the many times we’ve spoken in unison, saying similar things.

Gavin finally lets go of the bottle of chilli, and instead holds onto my wrist.

Gavin: Don’t force yourself if you can’t handle the spiciness.

I can’t struggle away from the warmth and pressure emanating from my wrist. I stare at him with mild anger.

MC: When did STF have such a wide jurisdiction?

Hearing this, Gavin doesn’t get angry. His eyes are even dyed with a small bright smile.

Crash.

There is a sudden sound. The vinegar bottle is broken into several pieces, filling the air with a strong, sour scent.

The boss gives us an awkward smile. Eli, who has been sitting on pins and needles, instantly stands up.

Eli: Boss, don’t move. I’ll buy another one for you!

Before Eli finishes speaking, he has already disappeared out the door.

Only Gavin and I are in the entire shop.

Certain that I have given up on the bottle of chilli, Gavin releases my wrist.

He leans back against the chair and gives me a reminder.

Gavin: If you don’t eat soon, your noodles will get cold.

As of now, finishing a bowl of noodles while being watched by Gavin is a very difficult thing to do. I can’t help but speak up.

MC: I think given our positions, it isn’t appropriate to eat at the same table. Don’t you think so?

Gavin lifts his hand and casually taps the side of the bowl in front of him.

He arches his brows and looks at me, the temperature of sunlight in his pupils.

Gavin: As someone who always orders my favourite noodles, your words aren’t persuasive.

Embarrassment floods my heart, knowing that the boss must have told Gavin about this.

MC: I didn’t think the busy captain of STF would care about such small matters.

I return Gavin’s stare, my tone refusing to show any signs of weakness.

As the sunlit dust floats between us, Gavin suddenly stands up and walks to me.

He places one hand on the back of my chair and the other hand on the table. He leans over and stares at me.

Gavin: Since the moment I returned, you’ve already been included in STF’s investigation list. If there’s anything related to you, I will investigate it one by one.

The oppressive aura in front of me suddenly disappears. By the time I return to my senses, Gavin has already left the noodle shop.

Only a cool breeze lingers by my ear, bringing with it a phrase which carries a smile.

Gavin: Next time, just say it if you’re scared. No matter how large your eyes are, it doesn’t increase your vigour.

I stand up angrily, preparing to foot the bill for the noodles, only to the told by the boss that Gavin has already paid for it.

When I push the door open, the ginkgo leaves outside the window are blown by the wind, descending into a floor of gold.

The teenager in my memory has already shed off his youth, but his insuppressible edge has never changed.

Like the wind, like a lone wolf.

MC: Gavin, welcome back.

🌸 Moments 🌸 (will be analysed in another post)

Gavin’s Post: Revisiting the old haunt.

MC: I haven’t been there in a long time either.

Gavin: There’s no special need to go.

Gavin’s Post: Revisiting the old haunt.

MC: Is Officer Gavin on a mission?

Gavin: Just passing by.

Gavin’s Post: Revisiting the old haunt.

MC: A lot of places have changed after the cityscape planning.

Gavin: I can still find shadows of the past.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin

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purplesurveys · 2 years

Text

1314

What was the year/make/model of the last car you drove? It’s a 2014 (or 2015??) Mitsubishi Mirage. I’m bad with years, especially when it comes to cars.

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celcius)? Nah, the coldest place I’ve been to must’ve only been at around 10ºC but I was already immensely struggling by then, as someone who deals with 30ºC++ weather on a daily basis.

What was the last thing you used your phone for, besides calling/texting? I was trying to figure out Starbucks’ system of collecting stickers to redeem their Christmas planners since they’re going completely digital this year; even the stickers are electronically provided now. Needless to say I hate the change in routine and I’m still struggling to catch up lol.

Do you have more male or female coworkers? Female. We have like 60 girls and literally 3 boys.

Did you enjoy high school? The latter part of it. The first half was terrible but I also had a hand in that experience since I was painfully shy and still claimed that I hated people.

What's an unusual food combination you like? Tilapia and mayonnaise, which I honestly don’t think is even that weird since some types of sushi makes use of mayo; but I’ve received some bizarre reactions from this combination in the past, so I guess it’s weird for others.

What's the longest stretch of time you've spent completely alone? Maybe something like 18-20 hours? I always have to show up to my family and go downstairs at some point every day, so I’ve never actually spent a literal full day alone. But the worst of it was after my breakup when I would only show up for dinner, then disappear again.

Have you ever lived in a studio apartment? No.

Did your parents allow you to drink soda when you were a kid? I think they would’ve allowed me in moderation; I just never liked soda from the start so it was something they never had to worry about.

Do you always check the prices of things when you buy groceries? Yup, because my parents are the ones who pay for the things I want.

Do you like gyoza? There’s a certain taste in it that comes out that I don’t actually particularly like (chives maybe??? I never can seem to place it), so I never order gyoza. I only have it when someone else in the family or among my friends gets it, in the hopes that I’ll start liking it, but it never works out.

Have you ever been in a situation where you needed a lawyer? Nah.

Do you use Instagram? If so, what's your current profile pic? It’s a photo of me taken in Tagaytay, but it was shot like 2 years ago lmao so I have to change it soon.

Did you ever go through an emo or goth phase? Not really.

What are your thoughts on kids being given iPads to keep them entertained? I think it really just becomes an issue the moment it becomes the parents’ be-all and end-all to pacify the kid. I honestly have no problem with giving kids a few hours of screentime, as long as they don’t pick up a habit of throwing a tantrum once it has to be taken away from them, or as long as they don’t pick up any bad practices from whatever they watch.

Do you get regular check-ups with your doctor? No.

What was the last thing you felt apprehensive about? I was managing physical interviews yesterday and I was just worrying about the personality we were handling, since they repeatedly mentioned they were extremely camera shy and wasn’t used to interviews. My anxiety went overboard when they asked for alcohol before the interviews to calm their nerves and quickly started smelling of whiskey lmfao...the things you encounter in PR. Anyway it went mostly well, but this person still definitely needs some practice being able to answer concisely because he had definitely been in Ramble City.

How many nights per week do you cook dinner at home vs. going out to eat? I only get food delivery 1-2 times a week, usually on Friday evenings.

What's a trend you've seen recently that you thought was really dumb? There’s a new TikTok prompt wherein teens would get in a line and take turns namedropping the labels they’re wearing. So for example a person can go “Valentino, Balenciaga, Nike” then the next would go “Zara, Uniqlo, couture” so on and so forth until everyone has had their turn. It’s your typical trend of teens wanting to flex what they have and as a washed up 23 year old...I’m just...over it lmao.

Do you know anyone who has been evicted? Nope.

When did you last wash your sheets and pillowcases? The other day.

Have you kissed more than 10 people in the past 10 years? Nopes.

Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? Yeah.

Did you leave the house before 10 AM yesterday? I did; I was out of the house by 7 AM since I needed to do out-of-office stuff.

What's your favorite macaron flavor? I’m a fan of any chocolate variant. How often do you have friends over to your house? Just once every few months; usually when BTS has an online concert.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? No. My bosses and I are all friends, but we’re able to keep professional when dealing with work.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? Just once, when I went to a resort in Zambales with my co-workers a few weeks ago. I did go out of town with my family at the start of the year but we just Airbnb’d a condo.

What kind of technological advancements do you expect there to be 100 years from now? Maybe colonizing Mars to some extent? If not that far, I’m sure we’d have learned a bit more about outer space and its origins anyway. 100 years is a large span of time.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Nah, too scared.

What about a flip off of a diving board? Nope, also too scared.

What was the last hot beverage you had? I don’t remember; I hate hot drinks.

#survey #surveys

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chaotictommy · 3 years

Text

Okay sooooooo I don’t know if this is good, lol, I have no clue about any of my own writing. But anyway, I finished my small Jimmy and Tommy oneshot, which, now reading through could be taken as them just being friends or if you want to dive down that rabbit hole, could be taken as more...

I don’t know... I have doubts about my own writing, so if it’s bad, I apologize XD

but here it is.....

fanfic warning: major character death... :(

A Little Piece of Home

The first time he finds Tommy wearing one of his sweaters, a blue grey one that was Jimmy’s dad’s, his friend is sitting back and eating a sandwich while crumbs hit the wool, Jimmy nearly gets annoyed at his friend, settling for a mix of confusion and hesitation, because his best friend has no care of other people’s possessions, is anything but gentle, and doesn’t think before he takes something that doesn’t belong to him, maybe it’s because they’re close, but Jimmy doesn’t notice him taking things from others like that. Maybe it’s because they are like brothers. It used to annoy the hell out of him. Now it leaves Jimmy smiling, a bittersweet smile tinged with a little melancholy, at the memory.

“You’ll ruin it,” “Says who?” It’s a teasing smirk, the one Tommy knows gets him every time, annoys him to no end, that one that makes him smile despite himself, the one that disconcerts him, because he doesn’t know if Tommy is serious or teasing, and Jimmy wants to dwell in certainties, it’s problematic without them, but his best friend lives on uncertainty and adrenaline alone, and pulls Jimmy into it too.

He fixes his glasses, squinting over them at Tommy before replacing them and giving a shrug “Just... just take it off before you ruin it... it’s cashmere...” he sees the look on his friend’s face and shrugs “No idea, some type of wool I think, anyway, it’s expensive and you’ll stretch it out,” he gets a remark, half sarcastic and half teasing him for liking sweaters that much, for not trusting him enough, he knows Tommy’s joking and he can’t help but smile and reply, even though he’s trying not to “Oh, I’m sorry but tell me again how I wasn’t the one guy who tried to flirt with a gal and got a milkshake in the face when her football player boyfriend walked back over? It stained your shirt Tommy, Let’s just face it man, you should come with a warning sign, a label of some sort, you’re a disaster zone, and I am definitely not letting you steal my clothes...” but it happens again because Tommy never gives up and it’d be a strange day if he ever stopped fighting about — basically everything.

The second time he just gives up. Obviously Tommy isn’t going to listen, or had forgot, Jimmy really hopes it is the latter, but he knows this is a battle he’s not going to win, and not sure he wants to fight, so he compromises, feeling somehow as if it’s a custody battle in a divorce, since they’re sharing time with the sweater, Jimmy getting it half the time with Tommy taking the rest. It should annoy him, and on the outside he pretends it does, but inside, it really doesn’t bother him at all, honestly, he’s happy that Tommy’s happy.

The third time he finds Tommy hoarding one of his sweaters, a tan one with light colors in the classic pattern, and he just laughs with annoyance, running a fry through mayonnaise as they sit down at their current meeting place (and honestly this is going to be a recurring thing for them, meeting at the Diner, the milkshakes are to die for, the meatloaf could be better, the burgers are great, and the service is lacking at times, but the booths have high walls, which is a added win for Jimmy, so Tommy can be a bit too loud, like he always is, because let’s face it, Tommy has no idea what an ‘inside voice’ is, Jimmy’s had to face that fact more times than he’d like to admit). Jimmy fixes his eyes on his friend and looks at him questioningly “I’ve been trying to find that sweater for months.” He frowns and shakes his head, sighing long and trying to make Tommy get that he is — not okay with this “Don’t you have your own? Don’t you have any clothes of your own?” His friend turns with a look, as if he’s been caught, usually looking like that even if he’s done nothing wrong at all, barely thinking before he answers “Yes, no, maybe, I like yours better,” Jimmy raises an eyebrow in confusion “What’s that even supposed to mean? You’re being too cryptic, I’m not up for riddles,” he laughs and cringes when his friend grabs for the ketchup, nearly spilling over the table and the sweater, his sweater, the sweater he’s been looking for for about a month now, just popping up right in front of him when he’s not thinking about it, now being worn by his best friend, one disaster away from being ruined. He’s seriously worried for the safety of that sweater. “You’re messy,” he says, hand instinctively tugging Tommy’s wrist away from over the mustard, pretending to be disgruntled “Honestly Tommy, you’re a complete mess of a person,” “But you still love me?” They both laugh till it hurts, and Tommy pays the bill. He tells Jimmy it’s because they’re brothers, because it feels like home wearing something that makes him think of family. Jimmy doesn’t get it. Later, he will.

He remembers giving him one of his favorite sweaters, wrapped up in leftover green wrapping paper (green was Tommy’s favorite color), a Grey sweater with a greenish blue argyle pattern, folded into it. It became a sweater Tommy couldn’t stop wearing and a present that Jimmy was proud to give, he values their friendship and everything that entails. Yeah, Tommy’s loud and kinda — crazy, crazy in the good sense of the word, and Jimmy’s quieter, locked in on his thoughts, calmer, like the sides of Ying and Yang, and it’s those complementing opposites that Jimmy wouldn’t change. They’re friends and sharing things is just what happens right? It earns Jimmy the comment that he ‘looks like a nerd now’ as Tommy pulls the sweater on, but they both know that it’s a great present that Tommy values.

Jimmy gets a couple of books, loving how thoughtful that gift was as well. He still has them, now his kids are reading from those same copies. It’s nice to remember that. Now that...

The time wore on and one after the other, he lost touch with Dutch, with Bobby, and with Johnny, but he somehow managed to keep Tommy, to stay friends even though miles separated them, college, family. He was there from the start and to the very end. Tommy was his best man at his wedding, when he was so nervous that Tommy had to talk him back from complete panic, his ever present fears of being inadequate, not enough. Tommy had been there, and Jimmy had been there throughout Tommy’s struggle, he’d been the second to know when fighting wasn’t an option anymore... they’d tried to make peace with it, but nobody ever tells you how hard it would be...

When Tommy died, everything felt disjointed, disconnected, everything stopped then and there as the paramedics rushed by, knowing it was over even though his brain was screaming it wasn’t true. THAT IT COULDN’T BE TRUE. But it was. But nothing seemed to make any sense anymore. Nothing fit.

The breaths he took then seemed foreign as if Tommy had taken everything, even the breath in his lungs, with him, the breaths were strangled and meek, mixed with pain, he had been ready for it, yes, but nobody was ever prepared, not even when they said they were. Jimmy knew that now.

Now, going through Tommy’s things, in his empty home, his hand brushed against something in the bottom of the box. It was soft, even though years had passed, worn at the edges and the elbows, from Tommy always leaning on them, into his friend’s personal space, talking way too close in excited tones, appreciative, teasing. Jimmy knew what it was before he saw it, and the fresh wave of tears hit him, mixed emotions in them now, the lingering sadness and joy, relief somehow there as well. He hadn’t cried that much in front of Johnny, neither had he cried much in front of Bobby, they had felt like strangers somehow... now he felt himself breaking down. The tears were long overdue.

So he sat there, with a sweater and a lot of memories.

Other people would see a worn sweater that has seen better days, just like the brunette man now holding it, but to Jimmy, this sweater is much more than a bunch of knotted yarn, a castoff to some thrift store because of the wear and tear

It’s the sweater his best friend wore when he needed to keep warm during the colder months, or when they went camping, the one he’d hardly take off because Jimmy had gifted it to him, and he said that it meant everything, the one that wrapped Jimmy in tight hugs he’d pretend to struggle out from, pretending to dislike them, but secretly loving them. It was something that would always remind him of Tommy.

It was a little piece of home. Something now missing from his life, having gone suddenly with his friend.

He’d always have Tommy with him even though he wasn’t there anymore

They’ll always be best friends. Nothing will ever change it.

It’s only a sweater, but to him, it’s a part of home, as much so as the the family he’s made, the house he lives in now, and Tommy, who left a heart shaped hole when he — left.

It’s something that reminds him of every moment with his best friend. That’s all he has now, those moments. He knows someday he’ll forget the playful smirk, the annoying laugh that was both and infectious.

But for now he has those moments and something, however insignificant it is to others, to remind him of the better times.

And that’s everything.

Author’s note: Okay, so the sweater that Jimmy gifted to Tommy is the one you can see him wearing in the first scene of TKK2

It’s grey and has a greenish blue argyle pattern.

the books Tommy gave Jimmy were:

The Outsiders (I always connect the Cobras to the book lol)

Fahrenheit 451

1984

and

A collection of Sci-fi stories by Ray Bradbury

Because I think Jimmy would love Sci-fi

I truly hoped you liked the story and if it was terrible lol, again my apologies

#TKK #The Karate Kid #Cobra Kai #Cobra Kai Never Dies #Jimmy and Tommy #Friendship #Og Cobras #Lol I get nervous posting my writing

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mst3kproject · 3 years

Photo

Magic Christmas Tree

I thought I’d try something different this year and find a bad Hannukah movie, but everybody I asked had the same recommendation: Adam Sandler’s Eight Crazy Nights. I know for a fact that is a prohibitively awful film, because I know people who’ve watched parts of it (I have not to date met anyone who could sit through the whole thing), but it just doesn’t feel like an MST3K feature to me. Anyway, I have standards. My conclusion is that people need to make more Hannukah movies… and until that happens, I’m watching Magic Christmas Tree, which comes specially recommended by RiffTrax.

This is the only Christmas movie I’ve ever seen which starts with cheerful holiday music over footage of… Hallowe’en decorations. Obnoxious bully Mark and his two pushover friends decide to go investigate a supposedly-haunted house. Naturally the old lady who lives there is a witch, and in exchange for Mark rescuing her cat, she gives him a seed for a magical tree that will grant him three wishes. Two months later, with the tree fully grown, his first wish is to have magical powers for one hour – he uses them to torment unfortunate people who were already having to work on Christmas Eve. His second wish is to kidnap Santa Claus and extort unlimited presents from him, but that attracts the attention of the spirit of Greed, who intends to keep Mark as a slave forever! Good thing he’s still got that third wish.

God, I hate this movie. I’d say it’s the worst Christmas movie I’ve ever seen, but Elves exists, so instead I have to say it’s the worst Christmas movie that didn’t have any Nazis in it. It reminds me more than anything else of Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow, in that it’s an absolute mess that seems to have been put together by people who have no idea what they’re doing. It spends most of its time on boring, annoying irrelevant bullshit, and then when it gets to the plot, that’s boring and annoying, too!

Magic Christmas Tree is only an hour long, but that’s twice as long as it needed to be. A plot summary makes it sound like most of the film will be dealing with Mark’s three wishes and how he uses them, but it’s half-over before we even get to that point. The time leading up to it is spent watching Mark follow the witch’s complicated instructions on how to grow and activate the tree, and his parents dealing with this unwanted thing appearing in the middle of their back yard. All of this is presented in excruciating detail. We watch Mark dig the entire hole to plant the seed in. We see his Dad struggle with the lawnmower at unbelievable length, while the Mom yacks about nothing on the phone with her friend Betty. The Dad tries to cut the tree down with no success. Mark has to say a set of magic words over and over and over.

It goes on so long, it passes the are you fucking kidding me? point and wanders into territory where you wonder if there’s something wrong with the disk and you’re playing the scene over and over. It actually starts to feel like it’s on purpose – especially when the slowness is repeatedly emphasized by shots of Mark’s pet tortoise, Ichabod, who seems to be eating his patch of clover far faster than anybody else is accomplishing anything. You’ll swear the movie is making fun of you.

The sound that accompanies all this is sometimes very peculiar. The old lady has exactly the voice you’d expect from a witch in a cheap kid’s movie, but Mark’s Mom sounds like she’s being dubbed by a twelve-year-old boy, possibly the same one who provided the voice for Mark himself. The tree speaks (oh, yes, it does) in the voice of a smarmy stereotypical gay man. Santa Claus sounds like he’s half-senile and wondering what’s for lunch.

The lawnmower makes some very strange noises indeed. I guess they’re meant to be cartoonish and funny. They’re definitely the former but they’re never the latter, possibly because they never sound remotely like a lawnmower. When Mark’s Dad is trying to get it started it sounds like the ghost of a consumptive horse, and three hours later when it actually gets going, it makes noises like a traffic jam in Whoville.

Besides sounding weird, the actors are just plain bad. The guy playing Santa Claus is half-asleep. We’re told that the tree’s magic means he’s trapped in the chair he’s sitting in, and I honestly do believe that actor could not have gotten up if he tried, no wishes necessary. The woman playing Mark’s Mom looks like she’s high as a kite and only barely keeping her grip on reality. Maybe that’s why they had to dub her. Mark’s Dad recites his lines like a guy on a game show reading his own life story off a teleprompter, and does his yard chores in a way that’s probably supposed to be pantomimey but is the opposite of entertaining. The Dad gets an inordinate amount of screen time, which I can only chalk up to the fact that he’s played by director Dick Parish.

The worst of the lot are, of course, the kids, who are predictably terrible 60’s child actors. They yell all their lines, with the volume and exaggerated emphasis you expect from a school play. It wears thin very, very quickly. The kid playing Mark is the worst of the lot, although I might just think that because he’s the one we spend the most time with. He’s a huge part of why this movie makes me so mad.

I think the best way to describe Mark as a character is to say that the first time I watched this movie I assumed his name was ‘Billy’, despite the fact that everybody kept calling him ‘Mark’. He just seems like the type of nasty little brat who’d be named ‘Billy’ in a bad 60’s Christmas movie. We meet him having lunch with his two friends by the playground, and learn that he’s a greedy little shit when he drives a hard bargain in a sandwich trade. Greedy-little-shit-itude continues to be his primary character trait and is, of course, the core of the movie’s lesson. His attempt to monopolize Santa Claus makes him such a greedy little shit that Greed himself takes an interest in him.

Greed is a huge hairy man who takes delight in kidnapping little boys. I think he’s supposed to look like a fairy tale giant. Watching him manhandle a child is an intensely uncomfortable experience.

I guess ‘don’t be greedy’ is a standard message for a children’s movie, and it seems like a particularly appropriate one for Christmas, which presents children with a great opportunity for avarice. What seems a little odd is that Mark never actually suffers any consequences for his selfishness, only the vague threat of them. There was a perfect opportunity for some of this when Mark kidnaps Santa Claus. Santa, after all, brings toys to good girls and boys… surely by this point, after his brief reign of terror with his magical powers, Mark has been naughty enough to deserve only coal. Apparently that’s not how it works, though. Mark just wanders off into the woods in search of small animals to shoot with his new rifle, runs into the giant, and immediately repents even though Greed is offering him all the toys and candy he wants.

What supposedly prompts Mark to become a better person is seeing how the world has responded to Santa Claus going missing. Curiously, there is very little emphasis on the children who are sad because they didn’t get any presents. Maybe somebody thought that would have made them seem greedy? Instead, the vision Greed presents to Mark is of the United States military mobilizing to locate Santa and bring him home, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians-style! So… I guess Mark becomes a better person because he’s afraid of what’s going to happen if the army finds Santa trapped in a chair in his house? I guess that is pretty terrifying.

Another thing that blunts the lesson is the fact that Mark is given his three wishes as a reward for a good deed. He got the witch’s cat down from the tree, so she offers him the magical seed and doesn’t let him refuse. What then was he supposed to use his three wishes for, if not to get stuff for himself? Was this intentionally a poisoned gift, because you shouldn’t accept things from witches? The witch insists that there are good witches as well as wicked ones, but she’s not exactly an unbiased source. The movie never tries to blame her, though. The situation is presented as Mark’s fault, and Mark’s alone.

Finally, at the end Mark wakes up and finds that of course the whole thing was a dream – there was no witch, no magic tree, and no Santa Claus. This is less annoying than it could have been because at least it’s not a surprise. Mark did hit his head when he fell out of the tree the cat was in, and the movie changed from black and white to colour. We’ve seen this before in The Wizard of Oz and we can guess where it’s going. The audience might assume that Mark will wake up and immediately take the opportunity to be generous instead of greedy, perhaps by giving his friend something to make up for the lunch trade. Instead, the woman who owns the cat (who is not actually a witch, but looks even more like one in this part of the film than she does wearing the Hallowe’en witch costume in Mark’s dream) offers him milk and cookies, and he delightedly accepts. This just gives the impression that he’s learned nothing.

Is there anything in this movie I didn’t hate? Well… among Mark’s school friends is a token black kid, who is not differentiated in any way from his peers. He talks like them, he dresses like them, and the writers did not use either his lunch or his Hallowe’en plans as a way to demarcate a class difference between him and the others. So yeah, the movie sucks, but the writers tried really hard not to be racist.

Happy fucking holidays. I want to say hooray for surviving 2020, but we’ve still got a week to go. That’s plenty of time for oh, I don’t know, an alien invasion, or a giant meteor, or the Yellowstone supervolcano, or zombies, or whatever. At this point, if most of us aren’t dead by this time next year, I’ll count that as a win.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #magic christmas tree #fuck this movie #holiday reviews #60s

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Loud House Season 5 Catchup (Blinded by Science, Band Together, Season’s Cheatings, A Flipmas Carol) or Of Mutants, Medicority, Merryment and Money

Merry Christmas everybody! And it’s Christmas Week so expect christmas out the jingle jangle for the next few days. And starting us off is something long overdue as coverage of the Loud House FINALLY resumes just in time for christmas. Yes it’s been over a month since the last episode and while i’ve covered two holiday episodes since then, I haven’t gotten back to season 4 despite, like Ducktales and Amphibia, it being on my roster. The answer why: I had a ton of comissions coming in, and other projects going on including ducktales coverage, so I kept putting off banned together/blinded by science for weeks.. until they coldied right into Season’s Cheatings and a flipmas carol. So yeah this one’s way too late and I will TRY not to have this happen again. I can’t promise they’ll be same day of or right on time as unlike Disney and Cartoon Network who are really good about putting their stuff on the app same day or that morning or streaming services which I own so.. yeah, Nick likes to take their sweet time sometimes and isn’t as steady with their release schedule. It’s why I ended up deciding not to do regular coverage of the casagrandes, though don’t be suprise if it shows up here on occasion as I sitll like it quite a bit. Nick is just a pain in the ass to deal with. Point is it’s here now and in time for the holiday season so i’ve delayed this long enough. Let’s get back to Season 5 after the cut

Blinded by Science:

So yeah... i’m just going to say it.. this season.. has been fucking weird.

I mean sure there’s been plenty of normal episodes: The Boss Maybe, Strife of the Party, Kernel of Truth, Banned Together, Season’s Cheatings. There are more normal standard Loud House episodes than the weird ones... but that just makes out how looney some episodes have gotten stick out MORE. I mean among episodes tackling Leni struggling to step into Lori’s true, an obnoxious party despute, a news antics episode, Luna dealing with her career, and a holiday shenanigans episodes.. we’ve also had Lincoln get shipped off to Canada for an episode, Lincoln thwart a supervillian plot, Lori learning her school has a friendly ghost caddy that everyone who goes there knows and just accepts like that’s a normal thing, and with two of today’s episodes, Flip being some kind of monsterious miracle of science or possibly having an x gene we don’t know and then being visted by the ghosts of christmas past, present and future, who for no explained reason look and act like Lisa, Lincoln, Clyde and Lucy.

I mean I can stretch disbelief for a lot of cartoons and i’m fine with it. Lisa does it pretty much on concept. But stretching things a bit for a joke is fine.. but it’s gotten to the point where the plots have gone from grounded slice of life stuff to really weird high concept stuff and it’s really hard to tell if this is going to work or not as Schooled and Family Bonding were not great, especially the latter, Ghosted was pretty good, Flipmas Carol was okay and this one... is decent. So it’s two good, two bad and one neutral. It’l take smore more episodes to see if this is a good thing or not.. I was leaning toward not before this block, but it’s very clear by the fact multiple writers have done this and the one whose done this the most wrote normal episodes last season, that this is an overall creative decision and thus something ‘im just going to have to live with. And hey, it gives me more material to work with so there you go. So yeah let’s actually talk about this episode: Lisa is scrambling because she has a presentation at a big science convention, but doesn’t have any new discoveries to report. She does have snakebird though, which is exactly what it sounds like and exactly as delightful. Everyone should have one of those I don’t know how this isn’t worth presenting. Just put snakebird in hat. Lincoln comes to help because Rita heard snakebird and wanted to make sure lily was okay, and all he’s doing is taking her for a ride so it’s fine. Snakebird should be a part of my a different world style spinoff I’m just saying. Or with Stella.. I have a lot of spinoff ideas and only one of them has gotten a cease and desist from viacom so that’s progress!

Point is Lincoln ends up being a very good big brother and takes her to flips for a flippee as that usually helps him think. He also crouchs down adorably to reach her height at one point.

Like it’s jsut really precious to see that. It also does something the show does at it’s best: Weave the other siblings into each others plots organically. Lately they haven’t been as good at that with some exceptions and while it’s fine to have a few episodes where the rest of the family isn’t involved it is weird to just sorta.. cordon off 11 of our leads instead of giving them their own unique dynamics with each other. And while I do think Lincoln gets way to much of the spotlight at times, and his episodes have not been the best this season, I do think he works perfectly here: He’s the one with the most history with flips, so his role he ends up taking in the plot make sense, and him taking a big brother role and taking her down there is really adorable. It’s honestly easy to forget sometimes since half his sisters outage and outrank him by a lot that LIncoln has some authority and brotherly duty himself but when it crops up it’s really nice to see.

But yeah while Lincoln’s gesture was nice it does nothing to help. But what does is Flip himself. Honestly before these episodes i’d barely seen Flip and he’s alright. He’s not bad it’s just with this having happened just a few years ago

So i’ts really hard for him to stand out in comparison when he’s kind of generic. He’s still pretty damn loveable though. And this episode has as he drops a drum of cheese on his foot, it does nothing, eats cheese right out of the barrel which..

I mean at least have some sanitary standards man. Get a bowl or put it in a bathtub or something. Figure it out. But yeah it turns out his heart is also in his arm, literally on his sleeve.. something they don’t point out so it’s a subtle and well done joke.

Anyways yeah... so this is where the weird stuff comes in. Flip is some sort of miracle of science despite in all other episodes clearly being a normal human, And I like it.. while some bits of it are gross, i’m not a gross out guy so if you like that it’ll be up your ally and I respect that. But for the most part it’s just weird, bizzare stuff I can’t help but chuckle at like Flip having gills on his leg or being able to surivive freezing tempratures while not moving at all. See this works better than the spy episode in terms of what the fuck or to a lesser extent schooled because while it is fucking bizzare.. it works and it’s just swining so hard for the fences, it hits the moon. With the other two one didn’t bring it up till the end and the other just.. suddenly annoucned Royal Woods is next to canada and that lincoln taking a boat there was feasable. This just works for me. So Lisa takes him to the conference, with Lincoln and Clyde joining in to serve snacks and promote the food and fuel which works, I also like the gag about them being late because they argued about what Science Casual meant. Lisa shows off this monstrosity and gets praise.. and a shady scientist asking if she can use flip for her experiments which lisa talks him into and Flip agrees to because, like his agreeing to lisa’s experiments he likes money and tasks the boys with running things. Naturally handing a miracle of science over to a shady science lady you know nothing about backfires and lisa trying to search incognito labs just blows up the computer.. somehow. Don’t think too hard about it. But LIsa finds lily petting a rat and soon finds the rat comes from flip begging for help. And upon spying on the lab, Lisa finds that flip is basically being tourtured and feels she did no better which.. no. While she did use him as a test subject, she also did so with his full consent, and for free publicity. She didn’t harm flip as while she subjected him to a lot of crap NONE of it harmed him like Ingognito’s experiments are. This attempt at a moral dosen’t work when Lisa , while still seeing only flip for his achivments, did nothing unethical. Flip willingly signed on for this and was never once in danger. And look medical trials can be unethical epsecially when people are deseperate. I get that. But here Lisa did nothing wrong and given her usual tendency to ignore scientetific ethics, that’s a lot. Lisa goes to the boys for help and together they all sneak in and free flip in a decent sequence using various stuff from flips. The doctor for her part, as she was planning to shoot flip up into space without a suit to see if he could surivive because evil, gets blasted up. So yeah.. this episode ended with a 4 year old, an old man whose apparently a mutant of some kind x-men or otherwise and two 12 year olds having killed a woman.

And then they all just.. have flippees for aj ob well done. I mean yes the lady deserved it but still.. you all just killed someone! YOU SHOULDN’T BE ACCEPTING THIS. WHAT JUST HAPPENED. AND WHY DOSEN’T SNAKEBIRD HAVE HIS OWN MOVIE. EPISODE OVER.

Final Thoughts on Blinded By Science: This one was okay. Insane, VERY insane, but okay. I’ve seen way worse, from this very season but man is it weird and man is that ending just...

Yeah that takes it down a bit but overall really enjoyed this one, Moving on. Real behind and got four to go so

Band Together: I think I have one of my many reaction images that says it best here:

Given i’ve seen pretty much every Luna episode, she’s my faviorite and i’ve been blatant about that, and all of them are pretty good, I had high hopes for this one. And it STARTS promisingly enough: Luna is rocking out with her band which finally has a name! The Moon Goats. Which I like a lot: Besides reminding me of the objectively awesome Mountain Goats, it fits thehir personality and also reminds me of fellow teenage garage band goat cheese pizza from Zits... I miss when that strip was about teenagers and not two old men yelling about teenagers. Metaphorically. Point is I like this and my recent scott pilgrim kick means this is even better. We also find out Scoots is a huge fan of the band. Which is fantastic. Why an old lady with questionable morals is their biggest fan I do not know. We also get a band prank and fully names for the other two: Sully, the guy and Mazy the girl. I mean their not given MUCH character, Sully likes to bash his head on the keyboard and Mazy is uh there. And that is one of the episodes downsides: Despite being the first episode with Luna’s band to NOT focus on just Sam... the rest of them, and Sam really get to do nothing. The fact Sam and Luna are together dosen’t even factor into the plot. I honestly think it’s what removes the episodes punch, that we don’t KNOW these characters and thus LUna posisbly leaving them behind has no weight. In contrast the series actually did something similar with little build up but made it work with the episode where Leni’s friends are trying to make her choose between them: Her mall coworker friends or her school friends. While we didn’t KNOW her school friends like the mall ones, the episode took time buliding them up so we got why Leni loved both and why this was so unfair to make her choose between them. Here it’s just two well designed carboards and a sam. And without the stakes of it possibly impacting Luna’s relationship, which I don’t want obviously but at least we have a stake in at this point, there’s just.. not a lot. Plus the solutions kind of obvious. But what’s the problem? The band performs for a big manager who only needs Luna to fill in for a professional band. The IDEA as i’ve said is good: LUna being forced to pick between her friends and her career, and both sides not being happy about it. But it’s just.. wasted. Besides clearly being bigger than 30 minutes, apparently we needed the half hour slot for a caddy ghost, this story just feels slight. Luna ends up with the other band and the manager gets on her for acting like she does with her friends.. but she’s a 16 year old who dosen’t know any better. What’d you possibly expect? none of it just really works. She goes back, no one is suprised, and the only part that really works at all.. is the ending. After welcoming luna back , as their roadie at first and clearly it’s more of a joke, Chunk plays with the band and gets Luna’s spot. THAT is not a bad ending and while I”ll miss the big lug, it’s really nice to see the guy get a big break and Chunk is low key one of my faviorite parts of the show. But otherwise yeah, this was almost nothing and given how usually FANTASTIC the Luna episodes are, this one was a really huge disapointment. No need for final thoughts moving on.

Seasons Cheatings: This is a quick one but only because there’s no real character stuff or bad parts, i’ts just a decent if contrived holiday episodes. It’s the annual family gift swap, and Lincoln wants a backpack for (insert thing he likes #37). That being said I DO like that Lincoln isn’t just into one thing obession wise as even with my tendency to hyperfocus due to my autisim, I have TONS of things I love and glom onto. YOu can tell just by my massive assortment of reaction images and quotes. So it’s nice for a show to for once NOT have a nerdy kid just have one hero they focus on. So it’s rip hardcore this time, with a fancy backpack. Why Lincoln didn’t just ask for it for christmas is beyond me and is the only thing that bothers me about the episode. Ohterwise i’ts pretty decent; LIncoln’s trying to cheat his way to victory by getting the right sister for the swap. Which really ends up boiling down to first LIly, since the parents will choose, but since LIly did her own gift this year, he then tries one of the older sisters since obviously, they actually take this seriously and have the money to get something nice with various shenanigans including lincoln dressing up like his own mother. Neat. It’s nothing amazing but it is neat.

Naturally he forgets his own, and has to trade his gift to Chandler to get Lola a nice gift in time. Also Chandler is apparently Lincoln’s black market hookup ala hustler kid. I genuinely love everything about this from the fact it fits his character, to the fact him being rich means there’s a genuine way he can get the resources, to the fact that despite being rich and probably not needing to do this it still fits he’d do it anyway because he’s kind of a scamp. If they use Chandler more like this, as Lincoln’s sorta shady frienemy who Lincoln and Co and possibly the sisters go to for shady schemes and crookery, i’ll be fully on board with it. Plus it might finally squeeze liam out of the group and give us someone willing to hit rusty. So all good things.

But we do get a REALLY sweet ending as Lily, having seen her big brudder sad, paints him a picture. We also get the sweet image up top of LIsa and Lucy having given each other the same gift. Overall not a bad episode. Not nearly as good chirstmas story wise as 11 louds a leapin, but with a shorter runtime and a tight premise it still works and is still very sweet.

A Flipmas Carol: Another very simple but alirght one.. and ANOTHER flip episode. And another one I can speed through a bit more. Basically it’s the night before christmas and Flip is taking advantage of the neighborhoods desperation with shoddy merchandise.. and forcing Lynn to work off the debt for some accidnetal damage on christmas eve and day. I mean she is legally of working age so this is legal but it’s still sketchy. Which is Flip’s wheelhouse. Naturally this leads to a christmas Carol Parody and the weird part as the ghosts resemble and act like the loud kids> This is never explained, it’s really weird especially since Clyde ghost refrences his therapist.. but given the louds were in there and are in there enough for Flip to know them well, same with the mcbrydes, it easily could be a guilt induced hallucination or simply the ghosts taking a familiar form so i’m not going to dicker over it. It’s weird but you know not sudden super spies, golf ghosts or childrne comitting murders weird and as I mentioned up top, holiday episodes get a little more leway with me in terms of weird shit. not by a lot but by just enough.

So they take him through what you’d expect: The Past gives Flip a sympethatic and well done origin story: Flip had a date with the girl of his dreams, but lost out due to a comination of Scoots selling him bad goods and bad tickets in middle school and vowed never to be hurt again barney stinson styles. The present shows him the consequenceds of his actions on other people’s christmas including whatever he gave the louds to make christmas dinner having turned into some form of abomination, causing him to actually feel guilt. The final one shows him having died, buired alone with no one to care in a ditch with a pizza box and having lost everything due to his practices. It ends how you’d expect, he goes to eveyrones houses and fixes things before giving the loud kids present and clearing lynn’s deabt before that happens. Not much to really dig into here, just a pretty good specail. Both of the christmas episodes are good, and while again not as good as the first one aren’t bad themselve.s

So yeah overall this crop was okay. No real standouts, but outside of Band Together nothing bad and even that had extra scoots, luna’s band getting a name and that cheeks suish. All in all not a bad batch feels good to be caught up. Until next time courage.

#the loud house #christmas #lisa loud #lincoln loud #clyde mcbride #luna loud #sam sharp #saluna #chester monk #scoots #flip #rattus #lily loud #lola loud #lucy loud

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tempist-flower · 3 years

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Second Chances ch 3- Where We Are

At this point in my life, I hit the seven month mark. How did I know? My new parents had something planned for when I hit seven months. what it was I didn't know, but I don't think it was anything big. Other then the fact that I could crawl now, nothing eventful has happened at all. I still had no idea what time I was in, and I was still considered a bit of a fussy baby. I yearned for the day I could start being independent again. It seemed like such a far off dream at this point. One that would eventually come true, it was just taking a long ass time.

Currently it was early in the morning and I was being dressed for the day. Both my parents were wearing aprons and had thick pairs of gloves, the kind that you usually garden with. I think my new mom was finally going back to work part time again. One thing I did learn is that some of the plants grown here were collected and traded with other villages. Some of them were even used as the main ingredients in potions. Yes, potions. I actually thought they wouldn't really exist in this world but they do. I wonder if that means things like elixers and phoenix downs existed here too. I guess I would find out as I got older.

While my mom was dressing me, my dad was packing a diaper bag. Xander has already left for school, he probably left before I even got up. As soon as I was dressed both parents double and triple checked the diaper bag before picking me up.

"Are you sure you have everything?"my mom asked. "We don't want to leave them without enough to take care of her."

"Yes, I checked the bag. I think there's enough in this bag to last a week." my dad said. "You act like this is our first child all over again. Most become pros after the first kid you know."

"Oh hush you, there's nothing wrong with being prepared."

I toned out the rest of their conversation as they headed towards the door. If I had to guess, it sounded like I was going to a daycare or something similar. Hey that was something interesting I guess. So far my only trips outside have been to the neighbors, or to the small garden behind the house. As they walked I tried to take in more details. The village looked pretty simple, and much bigger then I thought. Several houses and streets stretched out a lot father then I could see. This place looked more like a small town then a tiny little village. We passed several houses and shops. Items, weapons, clothing, furniture, and several other things you would see back in my own world. The only difference was that some of the shops were built right into people's homes. Most of the houses we passed were small and only had one story. The shops were more obvious by having at least two stories.

As they walked I took in more and more of the surrounding around me. Many people were out working or just walking around shopping. There were few children walking around, some on their way to school it seemed. I wonder what that would be like? There were a handful of teenagers scattered here and there lazing about and enjoying the weather it seemed. It was a warm day out, I assume it's always warm here, or maybe I was born during winter and I just didn't know it. Does it snow here or is it warm year round? Judging by how most of the people here had some sort of tan I could assume it was the latter.

As fun as people watching was I could feel myself dozing off a bit as my parents walked. I lost track of how long or how far they've been walking but I assume it was at least a few blocks. Fighting to stay awake was becoming more and more of a struggle and I knew I would completely fall asleep soon. I hadn't even been awake a full two hours yet and here I was getting sleepy again.

At some point I believe they finally reached their destination as felt their steps finally stop. That was followed by knocking, and then I heard another voice talking to my parents. However I was too tired to properly pay attention to whoever my parents were passing me off to. Vaguely I remembered my mom kissing my forehead and my dad bidding me goodbye as I finally dozed off. I just hope they weren't abandoning me...

I'm assuming a few hours had passed before I next woke up to a new place. I knew this wasn't my house but it was decorated similarly. Maybe all the furniture was made the same. The only real difference I took notice of was the crib I was in. The sheets and toys in it were blue, as was most of the other things in the room. So wherever I was they had a baby boy somewhere. That baby definitely wasn't in the crib with me, I would have noticed another child in here. I didn't have much time to take in all my surroundings, mostly because they were so similar to mine at home, before I heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

A woman walked into the room and gave me a friendly smile when she saw I was awake. She looked to be no older then her late 20's, but she could have passed as younger. She had long black hair tied in a braid to her waist and blue eyes. She was wearing a simple dress shirt and a plain skirt with a half apron tied around her waist. In her hand was was a bag, I think it was my baby bag. She must be my baby sitter. Coming over to the crib she scooped me up and carried me over to what looked to be a changing table, cooing to me in that infuriating baby talk. I toned her out. She was nice don't get me wrong, but I've grown incredibly tired of hearing that baby talk. If my ears could bleed from it I'm sure they would. At least she didn't drown on like some others.

I tried not to pay attention as she changed my diaper, and ignored the taste of that disgusting mush she fed me. I wish they could make baby food taste better. I knew tit was the best I was going to get for a while, and once again dreamed for the day I could eat real food again. As soon as both embarrassing deeds were done, she picked me up again and carried me out of the room. As she walked I saw glances of photos in the hallway. Pictures of her and several other people, but the one that stood out was of a man who I could only believe to be her husband. She walked too fast for me to get a get a good look look at his picture, but since it looked like a wedding photo I think it was safe to say he was her husband.

We came out into what could only be the living room, and I immediately noticed the baby in the room. Well besides me of course.

They were playing on a large hand knit baby blanket on the floor. There were plenty of teething rings, and stuffed animals surrounding them. Currently they were playing with a stuffed chocobo and drooling all over it. I couldn't see his face because he faced away from me, but I knew this had to this lady's kid. Or maybe she was just babysitting him too. I could tell he had black hair that was sticking all over the place, and was wearing a blue onesie that had little chocobos all over it. I admit that was pretty cute. If I had a kid before I died, I'd definitely buy that for them.

The mystery lady walked over to the large blanket and gently set me down on it a few feet from the little boy. He was too focused on his current toy to notice me, and I didn't bother to make myself noticed. I had no idea how I was supposed to act in this situation. I was fine with just observing him for the time being, and did so for a few minutes. The baby finally left his current toy in search for something else, and that's when he rolled over and noticed I was also on his blanket. looked at me and I noticed he had the same blue eyes as the Mystery Lady. Maybe this was his mom after all. Up close he looked to be the same age as me, maybe give or take a couple of months. He almost looked confused to see me, like he's never seen another baby before. He probably never has.

I continued to stare at him as he stared at me, before he finally cracked a toothless smile and made a happy noise while crawling over to me. I didn't do anything as he tried to crawl towards me, I didn't know what to do. I could have been in this situation before but hell if I knew how a baby is supposed to react to certain things. The closer he got the more anxious I started to get and let out some type of noise. It must have been a bad noise because Mystery Lady sat down next to the two of us. She picked me up and pulled me into her lap away from the little boy's grabby, saliva covered hands.

As soon as I was in her lap he stopped in his advances towards me. Good, but now I had another problem. I didn't really like being held in general. I had gotten used to my new parents, but not with anyone else. I tried to struggle in her lap as much as a baby could struggle to be let go. As I struggled in her lap I started to cry which seemed to have a effect on the other baby in the room. After watching me struggle and hearing me cry he started to cry to. Expertly she rocked me in one arm to calm me down, and scooped up the little boy in her other arm. Mystery Lady rocked us both in her arms humming softly and soon enough she got us both to stop crying.

I had stopped crying sooner then he did, but he calmed down soon enough. Damn was she good. Gently she set us both down on the blanket with a smile on her face. Mystery Lady gently patted both of our heads before finally settling her gaze on the little boy.

"Oh Zack, don't worry sweetie, she's just a little scared." She said gently as he started heading towards me again."You'll be a good boy and be nice to Thorne won't you?"

That kid was really interested in me and I didn't like it. Why can't he-

Wait... did she say Zack?

#second chances #zack fair #cloud strife #reno sinclair #self insert #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7

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philalethistry · 4 years

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WELP my birthday month was a bit of a rollercoaster ride. I thought about the cons of posting this but I’d like to record it, so that future me can look back and, depending on how the future goes, either feel validated or be glad that this is over. Warning: discussion of crappy mental health.

TL;DR Breakdown results in will to live and fuck current events I have a recliner

I’m going to start with today, Sept. 1, and work back, for reasons.

Today I drove to a furniture thrift store. This doesn’t sound like much, but I A. hate driving, especially to new places, B. am already in a pretty anxious state, and C. I got lost because the road I wanted to turn on wasn’t marked, nor looked like a road rather than an alley, and so I somehow spent two hours trying to find one store. (At one point I had to stop and get something to eat because I had started shaking. The cashier watched me struggle to free two bills from my wallet and then declined the change I owed her to avoid making me retrieve that too. I wonder if she thought I was high...)

The important thing about what I did today, is I went out to find the store, and even when I did not find the store and ended up circling back to my street, instead of going home and having a sandwich and watching Youtube, I turned around again. I know it’s partially because of this video’s explanation of why one gets more nervous trying to do something a second time after procrastinating or running away from it, as I’d always pin the anxiety on my guilt, instead of a fear instinct which is more managable. But I’m going to give dopamine where dopamine is due and also say that my eventual victory was partially because of the newfound strength I have in the aftermath of the freak mental storm that enveloped the start of August.

I know that no one is doing “””okay””” right now, because of Everything, and that is nicely validating, because I am not okay either. But it’s dissonant, because I’d often follow the lead of neurotypicals and high-functioning depressives and anxious people when I’m in a bad way. If THEY say things aren’t as hopeless as I think they are, they probably aren’t! While that helped, it also downplayed my brain issues, and now that everyone has the same opinions on the State of Things, I realized I didn’t have any idea of how to confront the bad shit on my own, and neither does anyone else.

I’m technically still quarantining by refraining from making a lot of trips out and from getting a job, and so the murky pea-soup fogs of the future unsettle me. I was pretty chipper for the larger part of quarantine, as an introvert. Then one day, the thought suddenly occurred to me of the sheer amount of time I’ve spent in quarantine, how COVID isn’t receding from Arizona, how I had to quit the first job I’d gotten in the face of anxiety and depression, of how much of my future rests on the coming election, and most of all of how I have no idea what my future holds, of where I’ll be five or ten years down the line. “In the same place” and “Somewhere else” seem equally intimidating.

And then hormones struck.

I’ve had bad depressive episodes; I’ve had bad days of anxiety; I’ve had bad PMS; and then I’ve simply indulged unhealthy negativity. All of these, combined, made for a surreal and frightening experience. Emphasis on surreal. Also, contextually, emphasis on frightening, obviously. There were many feelings. Emphasis on everything.

My mental space may be a mess but I’ve never been too concerned with dwelling on life and death, even when faced with the latter. It’s never been a point of any interest to me; in the face of mortality I’m pretty good at giving importance to the present moment and to my internal values, like “science cool,” “mocha good” and “drawing fun.” In fact since childhood (third grade. Is this a normal third grader thing??) I’ve been a fan of cheerful nihilism, IE “There isn’t a secret meaning to the universe therefore I can give it any meaning I can make! Anything is possible, things are great!” I didn’t really grasp the concept behind existential dread, it sounded like something that happened to movie characters when the writers didn’t know how else to portray angst. Oh boy, do I have a new emotion I won’t be able to forget. My natural disaster of a brain supplied me, among everything I was already experiencing, three (3!!!) different categories of existential crisis. I had to look it up. And the weird thing about this Satan’s asscrack of an episode, is that while I’m prone to spiraling rumination, normally I can distract myself, because it’s still just me, thinking unhelpful thoughts. This time, these thoughts, the shittiest thoughts I’ve ever had the displeasure of producing, were automatic. I was not getting stuck pondering one bad topic; everything I saw became, in real time, entangled in the web of thought pattern in the most natural way. And it was LOUD.

Have you ever thought, “I’ll sit on the couch, the couch is comfy. The couch did not exist until a few years ago, its lack of existence had no impact on anything in any meaningful way, and when it turns to dust it will be forgotten.” Because I myself had a teensy bit of an inkling that maybe that ain’t normal. The thing is, I knew I was only feeling this way because, well, I Was Feeling That Way, it’s just the mood; but being stuck in isolation, and with everyone else also troubled by issues of the past, the present and the future, knowing that didn’t help.

I can remain in a depressive / anxious state for a little while, but the actual peaks only last at most a couple of hours. This was Mt. Everrest AND it lasted a week and a half. I was at the end of my rope a day in and had no idea what to do about it, so I tried to do everything. The physical present felt empty, so I tried to fill it with media, literature, art, walks, family time. Problem is, “anhedonia” - a symptom of depression where you don’t get dopamine boosts from activities - cuts pleasure out of these things, so nothing held my interest, let alone made me feel motivated or remotely better. Another symptom of depression, weirdly enough, is the feeling of disgust - I wasn’t conscious of this symptom until it was magnified. I felt completely and utterly repulsed by everything around me. I first thought it was the clutter, then the way the furniture was arranged, then I thought I’d been inside too long so I took walks in the neighborhood when nobody was out. The confusion came when I disliked the trees, grass, and fresh air too - I had to Google my feelings to find out what the heck was going on.

Which brings me to my bedroom. My room is littered with memorabalia, I’m sentimental so I have little shrines of items from the past and of things I value. Some childhood toys and a handful of old trinkets, shelves dedicated to Pokemon and Neil Gaiman’s work, some references to Chicago and Polish heritage. My unhappiness with the situations of the present, while strengthened to an totally unnecessary degree, weren’t all inaccurate - and in combination with anhedonia and disgust, and the way I’d integrated this memorabalia into my sense of self even though they aren’t really relevant to me anymore, I found that I really really didn’t like my past or reminders of it. In a shocking unpredicted turn of tables, I no longer wanted to uphold who I once was, because it isn’t who I am now, and it’s not who I want to be.

And the revulsion of the past and the uncertain emptiness of the present culminates in a future that I feared, another emotion booted up to eleven. There was a big need to make my future and remake myself. The only places left comfort could be found were ones I hadn’t yet looked. At the same time I became sad in a powerful but vague way and desperately lonely - this part was definitely all the feral hormones - and I became obsessed, for a little while, with making sure that, when quarantine ends, I would get my social life in order. I preemptively joined groups and clubs in my local area online, which I’m still going to make good on later but maybe not to the all-encompassing extent I had in my mind at the time. Also, career hunting. (Also also, to combat a lack of control, I wanted to get my own place - but with the economy like That, and my ass like This, big alone time while also being very poor and probably overworked is not the best of ideas.)

So. The freak episode ended. And I knew. Both during. And afterwards. That I Do Not Want That to Happen Again. To put it lightly. So now I’m trying to find an antidepressant that works for me. I’ve been medicated for three weeks now. Lower anxiety, not many mood swings, but still anhedonia, and the aftertaste of existential dread which will forever haunt me. I’m completely overhauling my bedroom, because it was messy anyway and has basically looked the same since forever which can’t be good for my mental health. So there’s going to be new bedsheets (chocolate), new curtains to kill sunlight because while I enjoy it outdoors it makes the room feel exposed since the window is groundlevel and faces the street, a whole ass recliner thrifted for only 20 bucks(!) to go in a brand new study corner along with a nice aggressively patterned brown rug, and finally the grody offwhite walls will be repainted a warm inviting brown that was named “spiced cinnamon.” No matter what happens, I look forward to spending the winter in the study, invoking a cozy comfort the Danes call “hygge,” and hopefully building my gallery or participating in my interests, including fandom, in another way. And, once my budget allows it, getting some fucking therapy, what the fuck.

#long post #weezy lost their mind for a little while #so that's where I been #but at least I have motivation now #funny how fear can lead to positive changes like that

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btsybrkr · 4 years

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Here’s A List Of Things I Hate

I've reached something of a mental block recently when it comes to writing. I think it's because, despite sometimes coming off like I'm mocking things or just being a general smart-arse, I usually write about things I genuinely love. I love The Apprentice. I love Come Dine With Me. I love the idea that the Saturday night schedule, currently occupied on ITV1 by The Masked Singer - a horrifying cross between The Voice and a recurring nightmare I had between the ages of 6 and 8 - might one day be livened up by a post-apocalyptic The X Factor-style talent show in which we choose the next Prime Minister from a roster of Average Joe’s that just feel like giving it a bash.

I usually have lots to say about things I love, but recently, for some reason, I’m struggling to even think of anything that I love enough to write about. Maybe I’m being dragged down by the fact that this January alone seemed to last three long months, or perhaps because January itself included ‘Blue Monday’, the so-called ‘most miserable day of the year’. Maybe it's neither of things, maybe I’m just suffering from a bad case of The Realisation That We And Everything That We Do Are All, In The End, Meaningless, And That Every Day, We Are Collectively Hurtling Closer And Closer Towards The Endless Void And There Is Nothing That Any Of Us Can Do To Stop It. There's probably a snappier name for that, but you know what I mean. In any case, I’m just finding it much easier to think about things I hate recently.

Anyway, what do we do with these feelings of negativity to get rid of them once and for all? We express them. So, for anyone willing to read it, here’s a list of things I hate.

Stephen Mulhern

ITV mainstay Stephen Mulhern arguably belongs on television - not for any positive reason, just because it’s only the barrier of television between him and the viewer that allows him to appear as a cheerful friendly presence, rather than an insufferable know-it-all prick, whose repeated condescending glances to the camera during interviews with rejected Britain’s Got Talent contestants just wouldn’t fly in real life. I mean, really, imagine you were having a conversation with someone, and they reacted to something you said by looking off into the distance, à la Fleabag, with an expression that quite clearly reads “This person is an idiot!! Laugh, everyone!! Laugh at the idiot!!” You know what, Stephen? You’re the idiot. But I won’t laugh at you, because then you might think that you’re funny, and I’m just not having that.

Coleslaw

I saw a tweet years ago that said “what was the first person to milk a cow thinking?”, and honestly, it raises a very good question. I can only imagine that there was some perverted ulterior motives at play, for someone to not only milk the cow’s udders in the first place, but then to drink it, at a time when that just wasn’t done. They must have been a pretty nefarious character, it almost doesn’t bear thinking about. Instead, I’d like to question the motives of the even dodgier character who first looked at grated carrots, cabbage and onions, and thought ‘You know what might really tie these bland individual tastes together? Mayonnaise. A fuckload of it.’

You know what, though? It's not the existence of coleslaw that confuses me the most about it - it's the popularity of it. It has pride of place on the table at every family buffet, it’s disappointingly included in otherwise-appealing wraps in the Boots meal deal fridge, and it's an option on the menu in a shocking majority of takeaways, despite the fact that nobody has ever emerged, staggering and bleary-eyed from Walkabout at 3:30am and thought ‘I could absolutely murder some coleslaw’. Most annoying of all is the way some restaurants chuck a bit of paprika in the mix and use it as an excuse to rename it ‘POW POW GROOVY SLAW’, or something equally ridiculous. Why are we trying to sex up a bowl of vegetables covered in mayonnaise? I can't think of anything less sexy, and I don't particularly want to try.

Let's face it, coleslaw has long overstayed its welcome. It's the last stubborn hanger-on from the pages of stomach-churning 1970s dinner party cookbooks (probably found somewhere between the recipes for spinach and tuna pie and a boiled, unglazed joint of ham suspended in gelatine), and it's time we admitted that and stage a renaissance for the real king of the veg/mayo combo. Rise, Sir Potato Salad - your rule has begun.

Facebook

I recently deleted Facebook off my phone, and immediately noticed an improvement in the overall quality of my life. I promise I don’t mean this in the typical ‘phone bad, book good’ way that fake-’woke’ holier-than-thou characters preach about (usually on Facebook itself, ironically). I still happily waste away hours of my life on Twitter, and Instagram, the latter of which arguably has the most negative influence on my brain out of all the social networks. The thing with Facebook is that it doesn’t necessarily have a negative influence on my brain, so much as it has no influence on any part of me whatsoever. Facebook is a vacuum. It's completely, entirely pointless. In fact, it’s where ‘point’ itself goes to die.

Considering there’s probably no two Facebook users out there with the exact same friends list, I'm willing to bet that everybody’s News Feed looks eerily similar. Every scroll through is the same - a former workmate announcing a pregnancy, someone you forgot about from school sharing a vague, ‘deep’ quote about their hurt feelings, an elderly relative you didn't realise was racist until literally right now, when they began sharing posts from a page eloquently titled ‘MUSLIMS!! it is TIME to go HOME so we can have BRITAIN BACK’, or something along those lines. If you ever have nothing better to do - although, I'm sure there is always something, anything, better to do - just set a timer, open up Facebook, and see how long it takes before you come across a single thing that genuinely resonates with you in any positive way at all. I just redownloaded Facebook to try it for myself, and it took me 46 minutes.

Sound like a lie? Well, to be fair, it is. But there's more truth in that than almost anything you'll see on Facebook.

Those Slush Puppy Straws With Tiny Spoons On The End

Plastic straws are on their way out, and quite rightly. The Sea Turtle Conservancy estimate that around half the world’s sea turtles have ingested plastic, and straws are believed to have accounted for a lot of that. With everything you read or learn about the effect of straws on the environment, it's surprising that it's taken this long for us to do something about it.

With that said, it's not just the turtles that are benefitting from the rise of the paper straw - I'm pretty pleased about it as well. Why? Because using paper instead of plastic might mean that we stop manufacturing those evil straws with tiny spoons on the end of them.

Yes, evil. How many times have you been enjoying a Slush Puppy on a hot summer’s day, only to realise you can't get to the bits at the bottom of the cup, because your straw inexplicably has a spoon on the end of it. What's that for? A Slush Puppy is a drink, and spoons are for eating things with. “It's for eating the delicious bits of vaguely-flavoured ice after you've sucked up all the syrup”, you might say, but then why? Mojitos are made with crushed ice, but you wouldn't go up to the barman and go "excuse me, mate, you forgot to give me a spoon so I could eat all these delicious bits of vaguely-minty ice", would you?

Anyway, you can't suck up all the syrup in the first place when the bottom of your straw just isn't a straw. This a problem we usually solve by holding the cup above our mouths and giving the bottom of the cup a gentle tap, usually sending the rest of it falling out of the cup and all over your face, shirt, anywhere but your mouth, faster than you can say “I can't believe I’m 23 years old and writing an angry blog about straws with tiny spoons on the end”. Another solution we often resort to is turning the straw upside down, which, in my experience, always leads to cutting the roof of your mouth on the tiny spoon that you were never going to use in the first place. No wonder it took us so long to show a bit of sympathy for the turtles - we've been ignoring our own straw-related injuries for years, probably just because we think it makes us look hard.

As far as I'm concerned, spoons are for food, and straws are for liquids. That's why, whenever I order soup in a café, I always ask for a straw. Yes, I get looks from the other customers, but I'm sure they aren't looks of amusement or confusion - everyone else just wishes they'd thought of it first.

Ladybirds

Ladybirds aren't cute. They are not ‘nice’ bugs. They are beetles, in a quirky disguise, who can also fly. With all that in mind, why are we taught to like them? Why do people spot one land on your clothes, or in your hair, and cheerfully announce “oh, there’s a ladybird on you!”, as if you’ve somehow been chosen by the ladybird and should feel honoured. Get it off me now, because I don’t know what it’s going to do! Don’t tell me that it’s ‘harmless’ and that I’m ‘overreacting’. We thought that cigarettes were ‘harmless’ before the mid-60s, cheerfully puffing our way through life, with one in each hand at any given moment, as we watched our darling babies speak their first words, which were usually something along the lines of “alright, mate, 20 Sterling Dual, please” - but then we learned. We learned that they weren’t as harmless as we first thought. And believe me when I tell you that, one day, we’ll reach the same conclusion about ladybirds. Just as soon as we find out exactly what they’re planning.

In fact, where have they gone? I haven’t seen one for a good while. Surely, they’re holed up in a specially designed lair somewhere, millions of them, carefully planning their next move in their efforts to overthrow the human race. Planning and watching. We may not be able to see them, but I’m willing to bet they have eyes on us. You know when you’re alone and you get the feeling there’s something or someone else present? It’s ladybirds. I’m sure of it. We need to watch our backs.

I’m not really sure where my fear of ladybirds has come from. Perhaps it’s down to a dream I’ve been having at least three times a year since I was a teenager, in which I’m leaving my Nan’s house and spot a ladybird the size of a Golden Retriever out in the alleyway, just sitting there, still and silent. I run around the corner to one of my friend’s houses, to warn him of the arrival of our ladybird overlords, but the entire front of his house is covered in millions of the things. I shout his name, up at an open window, and he replies that he’s coming down to open the door to me, but when he does, it isn’t him at all - it’s just a 6ft tall ladybird. I usually wake up in a cold sweat at that point, but when I try to go back to sleep, I can feel them crawling all over me.

I know I sound insane, but I promise you, I’m not - I just don't trust them, and I think that’s understandable.

Hate

If there's one thing I hate more than all the above, it's the very concept of hate itself. I don't just mean in a political or universal sense - although, I do agree the world might be a far better place if we all just hated each other a little bit less - hate has an effect on all our personal lives, too.

I'm really trying to make the most of my early twenties, and that means conserving what little energy I have left after I'm done working, drinking, and crying - just the usual daily activities that we all partake in - to be a little more productive. I can't be using that energy up on hate. In fact, in a scientific study that I've literally just made up, it was found that feeling hatred for even one fifth of a second uses up three times as much mental and physical energy as smiling at sixteen angry strangers, half of which are making fists at you. You can't argue with those sorts of statistics.

Anyway, I'm hoping to return to talking about things that make me feel a little more positive next time, because, besides anything, it's just nice to be nice, isn't it?

Not to Stephen Mulhern, though. He needs to learn his lesson.

If you like seeing me talking shit, but would rather it wasn't so bloody long, you can follow me on twitter here.

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