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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #take two of trying post this stupid thing!#tumblr deleted the last one >:(#but this one actually copied over the italics so that saves me a shit ton of time if im being honest

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wendibird · 4 years

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SPN 15X16 Observations

Alrighty folks! This week, both my TV AND internet were working! (Helped that this past week a repairperson came out and checked things out and turned out our cable box needed to be replaced because the one they’d given us was defective or something.) So, good part of that was that I was able to watch it on my actual TV! Bad news is, that meant I was left trying to take notes on my phone, which isn’t as easy for me as it is on my computer which my keyboard. But ah well. Here are my episode notes and post-watching break-down of what I thought about it.

- getting "IT" vibes

- "IT" vibes still there

- Nyooooooom

- DEAN! YOU DIDN'T TELL HIM YOU BASTARD!!!

(FLASHBACK) - Dang Dean.... "this is our life" Even then he was trying to make Sam accept it. - Poor Sammy - That's a big gun for a little kid...

- Poor (other) kid!

(Commercial thoughts) So this is the second time this season that Cas had a conversation with Dean and then left and Dean lied to Sam about it. So Sam's in the dark still.

First time I think Dean just didn't want to admit his part in Cas leaving. This time, I have a feeling he doesn't want Sam to know what Cas (probably) said about Jack. Maybe thinks Sam will try to stop the plan. And Dean wants it to happen? Because at least this time it's not them making the sacrifice? *salty*

- Dean's pretty quick to call it. (That it's not their kind of thing.)

- Ring??

- He brought the ring back

- That woke her up

- NOW he (Dean) believes her...

(Commercial) Dean is closing down connections between him and the people he usually connects with. Like, it's harder to hold onto those. Like, he's willing to let Jack go (I think) And he was ready to write off Caitlin's brother.

Also tied up with his slef image. He thought he'd taken care of it back then. She prayed on his sense of duty and shame of failure.

Interesting that the knife wasn't really there.

Could it have killed him anyway?

- "We used to keep a lot of secrets from each other."

- I still hate how Dean gets lumped up as "Sam and Dean" as if his POV is the only one important. (Reference to what Billy told Jack to get him to agree. It was pitched as if his sacrifice to take out Chuck is the only way to earn both their forgiveness. But that's only true for Dean. Not Sam.)

- Dean knows Sam isn't going to like it. That's why he hasn't told him yet.

- BABA YAGA!!! (Wonder if there'll be any references to her hut on chicken legs.)

- *LOL* Poor bong girl.

- So, hallucinating or teleportation? (Apparently hallucination)

- Sammy to the rescue?

- Well, he got to help....

(Commercial) (Still disappointed that there was no mention of her hut on chicken legs or the fact that she rode around on a mortar and pestle. She felt more like an SPN interpretation of IT.)

- "You tell the truth more because you know that lies don't make anything better." (Is that an anvil I hear falling in the distance?)

- Okay. That (Dean fessing-up to Sam) predictably went horribly, but I'm glad it did. I'm glad Sam had a freaking voice. And an opinion. And wouldn't let Dean talk him around. Because he's right. It was shitty to hide it from him. And the plan is shitty. He knows what it's like to be the guy who has to die to save the world. And he's right to have ethical questions.

- "You wouldn't have handled it." (Or however it was phrased is Dean's internal justification for why he's right and Sam isn't. And why it was okay to hide it from him.)

(Post-episode thoughts)

(And again, apologies if these aren't exactly coherent.)

I liked the Weechester parts. Gotta admit, it took me a bit to warm up to the new actors, but I think that's mostly because we had Colin Ford for a good long run, and Dylan Everett for a decent amount of time too. I kind of got used to them. But these two did a good job.

I felt the writing for their parts might have had a few continuity issues. This was supposed to be in 1993 right? (Have only watched through it once so far.) So Sam would have been 10-ish (depending on the time of year) and Dean would have been 14. (Probably safe to assume this wasn't intended to be early January.) And it took place sometime after the flashbacks from "Just My Imagination" but before "After School Special" or "Bad Boys" So I found it a bit odd that Sam already is being shown as not wanting to hunt. (When in "Just My Imagination" he wanted to join his Dad and Dean on the hunt. And in After School Special he was definitely not about hunting but he hadn't seemed to considered that he even had the option to try for anything else. So I found it odd that they had a 10-year-old already looking at books about going to college. I feel like maybe if this had taken place a few years later maybe that would have made more sense? Ah well, I still enjoyed it overall.

Now, about the MOTW, I was all giddy when they revealed it was the Baba Yaga. (When I was in band in college, we played a musical piece from "Pictures at an Exhibition" titled "The Hut of the Baba Yaga". And I hadn't heard of it before that so I did some research on it and found out it was basically the Russian folklore version of the Boogy Man. She lived in a hut that walked around on fowls' leggs, and she rode around on a mortar and pestle, and she was greatly feared. So, they got the "greatly feared" part right. But.... (just did some double-checking on the episode) OKAY! So, I take it back. They didn't make a HUGE deal of it, but the motel where it all happened was called the "Rooster's Sunrise". So yey! They did have a nod to the Hut on Fowl's Legs thing! And it's not anything close to a hut, but it does have wooden siding on the upper part of it. (Like, not painted wood, but wooden-wood. *LOL*) Still though, overall I was getting more of an "IT" vibe from it. (At least the old IT, with Tim Curry. I haven't seen the new one.)

I did think they did an overall good job with the creepiness factor. But in the end, it didn't feel like she had much of a personality. She was just kind of there to move the plot where it needed to go.

To me, I felt like most of the emotional weight of the episode was on the secret Dean was keeping from Sam. And you could tell that it was eating at him. But at the same time, he didn't want to go there. Because he knew Sam would react badly.

Before I get to that though, I want to touch on something I mentioned up in my notes, after the conversation Billy and Dean had. She said that she'd gotten Jack to agree to the plan by saying that the only way to earn their forgiveness was by dying to end Chuck's threat. (I know, in this episode she specifically said Dean. But in the last episode, when Jack was telling Cas about it, he'd said Sam and Dean. So either he's merged them together in his head, or Billy did when pitching it, or she just left an open implication and he took it.) Either way, there's still that idea floating around out there that Sam and Dean are a matched-set, and that what one wants, the other wants too. Despite the fact that that's not how it plays out. And despite the fact that Sam has pretty openly shown Jack that he's forgiven him, and cares about him, and that Jack doesn't need to "earn" his affection. So why is Dean the only one who matters here?

Maybe it's the writers lumping them both together when convenient? But the fight between Sam and Dean at the end of this episode shows that they're not on the same page as far as Jack is concerned, so the writers DO know. Does Billy see them as a single unit? Or is it the opposite? Has she been coming to Dean with her plans and talks because it's easier for her to manipulate him? Because Sam's the one who stops to ask things like "Does Amara deserve to die? Does Jack deserve to die? Is there another way to do this? (Should I maybe NOT lock myself into a coffin and then yeet myself into the ocean?)" She was pretty firm to Dean about "getting his house in order" because she wants the plan to go smoothly. Is that because she knows Sam could/would find a way to stop it if he's not on-board? I mean, old Death was very aware of how persistent Sam could be if he put his mind to something.

Anyway, forgive my ramblings. Most of my questions don't have answers yet, but sometimes it helps to get them actually written out.

As for the fight between the brothers at the end, I'm actually glad it happened. I get where Dean is coming from. He's focused on the goal (getting out from under Chuck's control) and especially since he and Sam aren't the sacrificial lambs this time around, he's willing to let Jack do what he needs to do in order to get the job done. Especially since Jack seems to be willing.

(Though I do have issues with the fact that Jack is willing because he thinks it's the ONLY way he can earn forgiveness. But, that is yet another parallel to Sam from S5, who not only knew and accepted that he was the only one who could stop Lucifer, but that it was all apparently his fault and he needed to atone. When in fact, he was just one of MANY who'd had a hand in the Apocalypse happening. And I'd say most of the blame for it fell on the angels and demons. Both Winchesters broke seals without knowing it. Sam thought he was outright preventing a seal from being broken. But regardless... I wonder if Sam sees this too, at least from the perspective of "I know what this feels like, and it sucks, and Jack doesn't deserve this, and there HAS to be some other way!" I guess my point is, emotional manipulation can be considered a form of coersion. Letting Jack believe that this is the only way to be forgiven, holding that forgiveness over his head... how much "free will" is actually going on here if that's why he's willing to go through with it?)

Sorry, tangents. I tend to live in them. *LOL* So yeah, while I don't agree with Dean's mindset, I do get why he feels the way he does. And I'm just glad that Sam wasn't written as "a little upset but willing to let it go." Down to his bones he knows this is wrong. And he let Dean know. And I'm also glad that he's asking the questions he's been asking. It's not a weakness as Dean kind of implied. (With the whole "you can't get the job done.") Sam isn't being wishy-washy. He just cares about what's right. Chuck or no Chuck, it still matters to him. And getting what you want "by any means"... well, he's been down that road himself. He knows how that can end. And plus, he cares about Jack. Like, genuinely cares about him, as a person. Not just what he can do for them. Not because he's powerful. But for who he is.

Also, I don't know if it was intentional, or just the way it came off to me, but I feel like... well, for a lot of this season to be honest, Dean's view of what and who is "vitally important" has severely shrunk down. To like, himself and Sam. I'm not saying he'll tell everyone to go hang. But I feel like maybe as a reaction to finding out how much of their lives were "set-up" he kind of withdrew emotionally. He's more willing to let go of other people they care about. The connections he forms don't feel as strong as they used to even a season or two ago. Like, in "The Gamblers", he felt a little sorry for the other people trapped there, but he was willing to get what they needed and get out of there. Sam was the one who insisted on trying to free them too.

And speaking of Sam, at the end of last season I felt like one of the reasons why he went along with Dean's plan (to lock Jack up) despite how he CLEARLY didn't like it, and everything about it felt wrong, was that at that point in time he severely doubted his own judgement. Because by that point, so many of his decisions which had been made with good intentions and with the best information he'd had at the time wound up blowing-up in his face. (i.e. Training the AU refugees into Hunters to help them with Dean/Michael and then after with just Hunting in general only to have most of them slaughtered by Michael. And him trying to give Nick a chance because he knew what it was like to be branded as evil for things that had been done to you. And he knew what it was like to be a vessel for Lucifer. And then when Nick went off the rails and they caught him that first time, they handed him over to Donna, because he was a human so they thought they'd let human justice deal with him. And then he escaped and hurt Donatello and was trying to free Lucifer, and Sam almost beat him to death but then stopped, because he didn't want to kill him in what he felt was cold blood. (Though I'd argue self-defense would've been valid.) After which Nick hit him repeatedly in the head with a rock and almost DID free Lucifer, which Jack stopped, but that lead to Mary's death and, and, and, the list goes on. So by the time they figured out (somewhat, I don't think they ever got the full story) what happened to Mary, I think Sam was feeling like he couldn't trust his own judgement, and so he let Dean lead. And that... didn't go well.

So I'm glad that he is starting to question again. He'd started to with Mrs. Butters but then everything seemed fine, but as they found out, he should have heeded his instincts and researched her more. And now this. At the end of last season when the idea of Jack dying/being killed came up he said he wasn't okay with it, and he did run to try to stop Dean, but I feel like there's more assertiveness behind it now. He's not saying "Please don't do this!" he's saying "This is NOT okay! I'm NOT going to accept this! No!"

So, in conclusion: Overall I liked the episode, though for me anyway, most of the emotional weight came from the secret Dean was keeping and then what happened when he finally told Sam. I did however like some of the little moments, like young!Dean's line about "We made a pretty good team." and it's callback to the Pilot episode.

I'm sorry this got a bit rambly. Again.

#spn 15x16 spoilers #spn season 15 spoilers #episode review #my thoughts #tangents: i tend to live in them #sam winchester #dean winchester #young!sam winchester #young!dean winchester #weechesters #teenchesters #keeping secrets #the baba yaga

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likeabxrdinflight · 3 years

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looking at some peoples’ responses to that math post is fascinating because the way some of your minds work when it comes to numbers is wild to me...I have no head for them, nothing about math is intuitive to me at all. I still do it in my head the way I was taught as a kid because I actively cannot visualize numbers in my head unless I imagine them written out as an equation like I would have seen the problem on a math test in 3rd grade lol. and tbh sometimes I still have to count on my fingers. but I can’t flip numbers around or do fancy tricks to manipulate them in ways that would, objectively, make problems easier and faster to solve. my brain just...won’t. they don’t make sense to me. geometry felt like another fucking language, except not really, because learning other languages is easier than geometry was. algebra isn’t much better, I distinctly remember how much solving systems of equations murdered me back in the day. it seemed like no matter how much I thought I was doing it right, I’d get the answers wrong. something about numbers has always been that way though, they're difficult in a way language and reading and writing and memorizing facts never were. I could do well in every subject as a kid, but math would trip me (and my GPA) up every time. this did extend to sciences like chemistry and physics in high school too.

It’s why I was never able to achieve the 4.0 or higher that some of my other friends got- I always felt one step behind a lot of them because of it. and it’s like, I knew I was never going to get As in math, I don’t think I ever have in my life (except maybe freshman algebra? but that was only because I was basically repeating my 8th grade year, thanks transition from catholic to public school). but this always left me feeling a little inadequate, like there were status symbols I could never reach despite being perfectly smart in everything else. salutatorian/valedictorian, perfect GPAs, and the best scholarships all felt out of my reach on account of my inability to work with numbers. it shouldn’t have mattered, but it did when you were hanging out with all the other honors/gifted kids. it’s affected me all the way up to grad school, actually, because the quantitative reasoning section of the GRE is essentially a re-hash of high school level math, and my god was that horrible to do under a time crunch. my scores on the quantitative vs verbal reasoning section of the GRE were a solid ten points apart, which is a huge discrepancy- but that’s how it’s always been. and it definitely affected what schools I got into. or didn’t get into, rather.

these days statistics is pretty much the only quantitative reasoning I’m able to do well enough, and that’s only because I have to, and because the computers do most of the work anyways. I could not have done stats before the 90s at most, realistically, and would have needed a statistician’s help if I’d been doing this phd any time prior to the advent of computer programs.

...all this to say I might have dyscalculia but honestly it’s unclear.

#the funny thing is my brother is the opposite #he has dyslexia but is great with math #and I could write a novel but still have to think about what 9+5 is #...I think it's 14?#.......yeah it's 14 #anyways math is hard haha

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myglogic · 5 years

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Two Sides (Mark Tuan x Reader)

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (a lil bit lol), university AU

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend and his fling Lee Hana you try to come up with a plan to embarrass both of them. But then Mark Tuan happened and it didn’t work out how you planned it.

Mark didn’t realize that he was staring until Jackson pointed it out. There she was. Beautiful, long brown hair and a smile that outshone everything. Lee Hana was the perfect girl. For Mark Tuan at least. He was sure that she was his soulmate and that they would be together one day. Even while sitting in the library and reading a book she was the prettiest girl.

That is if Mark has the courage to ask her out. He was very shy in contrast to his best friend Jackson Wang, who was a very loud guy and who did not shy away to talk to other people, especially girls. Why was Hana so different from the other girls though? Mark did not know. He only knew that she was the prettiest girl on campus. Hana was studying music as her major and was really talented whereas Mark studied computer science. Was he considered a nerd then? Well, Hana was nice to everyone.

“Dude, you are totally staring at her. Stop doing that, ew.”, Jackson said and rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just talk to her?”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy, Jackson? What if she rejects me? I would be humiliated!”

“Pussy.”, he said and smirked.

Mark punched his arm. “At least I don’t fuck every girl on campus.”

“Is that a bad thing?”, Jackson asks him as he puts his books in his bag.

“I don’t even know what kind of STD’s you already caught.”, Mark said and laughed.

“I am always using protection, bitch!”, Jackson smiled triumphantly.

As you walked into the library your head was aching. Drinking the night before was not helping at all. In fact, it was the cause of your headache. Why did you drink you might ask? Well, your amazing boyfriend decided to cheat on you. With Lee Hana, “the perfect girl”. The girl everyone liked. Except you now. So what did that mean now? You, of course, broke up with Taeyong, your ex, but you also wanted to rip Lee Hana’s hair off.

She knew you were dating and you thought that you and Taeyong were happy. He told you that you never had time for him because you were studying all the time and never wanted to go out. You were the type to stay at home watching some movies with your boyfriend. But Taeyong apparently got bored of that.

Right after entering the library you saw Lee Hana. In your head, you walked up to her and beat her up. In reality, you just stood there, giving her your best glare. Even though she didn’t seem to notice you, you still were happy with your glare.

You went to sit at Mark Tuan’s and Jackson Wang’s table and took your books out. You gave them a nod and tried to have a look at your statistics book. You didn’t know the two boys that well but they did go to the library a lot. That’s how you knew them, well, barely. You, of course, noticed their good look. Especially Mark was a nice sight while studying.

“I’m leaving now, Markie. But I bet you won’t ask Hana out.”, Jackson said and walked out of the library.

The name Hana made you sick to your bones. You didn’t want to hear anything about that bitch. At all. You now glared at Mark too, with no bad intention, but you just really hated Hana.

Unlike Hana, Mark noticed you glare and look at you with a confused expression. “Did I do something?”

“Oh, no, of course not. But if you want to keep breathing, do not mention Hana while I’m here, okay?”, you gave him your best fake smile and started working on your studies.

“Uh… Why? Everyone likes her. Why don’t you?”, he asked, his curiosity taking the best out of him.

“She’s evil. That’s why.”, you said, clearly annoyed. “She’s also a bitch. So, if I can give you one piece of advice, stay away from her.”

Mark couldn’t concentrate anymore. He did consider asking Hana out for real but he did not understand why you said that. “Did she do something to you?”, he looked over at Hana, noticing that she was looking at you with a smirk and then back at her book.

You sighed. “I don’t think that you want to listen to my problems, to be honest.”

“Well not exactly yourproblems but I am interested in Hana, so you have my interest!”, he said. What a jerk.

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman!”, you rolled your eyes. “I’m leaving. I can’t study here.”, you got up and put your stuff away walked out of the library.

Behind you, you heard someone running and panting. “Y/N wait!”, Mark said and grabbed your wrist. “Let me walk you home and you tell me about Hana, okay?”

“Why should I tell you about Hana, Mark?”, you sighed and shook his hands off. You started walking alongside Mark.

“It’s a win-win situation, Y/N! Think about. You can say anything you want about Hana and I will listen to you. I also will know what’s wrong with her and maybe I will not ask her out then. You help me, I help you. It’s easy.”, he said, making a valid point.

You didn’t really talk to anyone about Taeyong and Hana. Not even your best friend because she had her own relationship problems. You really didn’t want to bother her. “Okay. Whatever. Well, you know my boy- I mean my ex-boyfriend Taeyong, right?”, you started.

“Yeah, of course. So.. ex-boyfriend?”, he asked you.

“Yes. Because of Lee Hana. I caught them making out. Basically, he was cheating on me with Hana the whole time. That’s why I hate her and Taeyong. I wasted my time with him.”, you sighed, trying not to cry in front of Mark.

Mark didn’t know what to do. He didn’t expect that to be the reason why you hated Hana. There were two sides to Lee Hana apparently but he didn’t want to jump conclusions. The girl he liked for so long couldn’t have that ugly personality behind that beautiful face. Maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. You had started crying a little, not too loudly. Mark was miserable when it came to girls. He didn’t know how he should comfort a crying girl.

He decided to awkwardly pat her back. “Taeyong didn’t deserve you. See it as an experience that you learn from.”, he said and looked at you. He now noticed the dark bags under your eyes and your disheveled hair. You looked like a mess and you were trying to hide it unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, but why Hana out of all people? I knew she didn’t like me for some reason. She always made some shitty snide remarks when she hung out with our group. I didn’t expect it to be because she was after my boyfriend.” You sighed and wiped your tears away. “She puts on a mask in front of everyone and acts like an angel when in reality she’s the devil in person.”, you said in rage. “I want to get back at her. Not only for stealing my boyfriend. She should learn to not mess with me.”, you walked to the bus station and sat down.

Mark’s eyes widened. Not because of what you said about Hana. It was because you didn’t let someone like Hana put you down. He thought that you were kind of hot with that confident expression on your face. He quickly shook off that thought and sat down next to you. “Hey, calm down. She’s just jealous because you are smart. You do look intimidating sometimes. Don’t do anything rash okay, this is the post break up depression.”

“Sounds like something you went through?”, you asked him.

He sighed. “Yeah. I really don’t want to talk about it but I was so mad that I went to her house and almost beat up her new boyfriend. Jackson was there to stop me but now that I think of it, I would always prefer to take the high road and just let it be.”, Mark said and gave you a small smile.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to beat up your crush.” “No!” Well. Maybe yes. “But I just want to give you some advice. A breakup can be tough”, Mark said and looked at you.

You stood up. “My bus is coming. I will think about what you said, thank you for listening, Mark.”, you told him and got on the bus that just stopped in front of you.

What Mark didn’t know was that you were planning something to make sure that Hana would learn her lesson. You also knew that Mark was right about taking the high road. You didn’t want to stoop down to her level but sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself. After arriving in your dorm you started deleting pictures of you and Taeyong off of your laptop. You don’t know why but you felt a sudden wave of relief after deleting the pictures.

Maybe it was because you weren’t happy in a long time with him. Maybe he just didn’t care about you for a while but you never noticed. Whatever it was, you felt like breaking up was the best thing you could do in a situation like this. Cheating is unforgivable but now that you’re thinking about it, you know that your relationship was not like it was in the beginning. Full of love and admiration for Taeyong. Sometimes you missed those days where you would only cuddle with him and spend the night watching silly movies and eating junk food.

After thinking about it for a while you came to the conclusion that you weren’t necessarily missing your ex but you didn’t want to be lonely. You wanted to feel the excitement of being in love again, kissing and cuddling. You knew that Taeyong was not the right fit for you. You decided to take a deep breath and think rationally.

Well, what do after a horrible break-up? Make Lee Hana regret what she has done. You didn’t know how to that yet but you were going to find a way.

A few days later you met Mark again in the library. Mark didn’t know how to talk to you. He didn’t know how you felt or if you were even ready to talk about Hana again. Mark did think about Hana too. He wanted to see if Hana really did know that Taeyong was in a relationship. Perhaps all of this was a misunderstanding? Mark didn’t know why he thought that.

“Hey Y/N! So… what have you been up to?”, he asked awkwardly.

You stared at him. “Nothing… Hey, are you going to that party next week?”

“Oh, Jinyoung’s party? Yeah, I will. Will you go?”, Mark responded.

You smirked. “Of course! Why don’t we go together? I don’t know a lot of people there, you might help me a little bit if that’s alright?”

“Help you with what?”, he asked you with a confused expression on his face.

“Oh, you know… getting to know people and stuff like that.”, you said and smiled at him sweetly. Something was not right. But Mark didn’t want to accuse you of anything. A party might be the best way to forget about your break-up for once.

“Okay, sure. I’ll text you?”

Texting became a frequent thing and you noticed that you and Mark had a lot in common. You both were little nerds and loved superhero movies. You noticed small things like how his face flushes when you call him cute or how he is bouncing his leg up and down when he’s nervous. You spend nearly every day together until the party. Jackson even made fun of you that you were basically married now even though it was just a week. But you felt comfortable with Mark and it was a nice feeling.

The party arrived quickly and so did Mark in front of your dorm room. He knocked three times and waited patiently. Why did it take you so long?

After you opened the door, Mark’s jaw dropped slightly. You looked… beautiful. Wearing a black dress and make-up you looked totally different from the girl he saw a few days ago. “Uh…”, Mark didn’t know what to say.

“I know… It’s just a stupid party and maybe a little too much but I just wanted to distract myself, I really don’t know.”, you said, a little self-conscious.

“No, you look really nice! I bet Taeyong will regret everything after seeing you like this!”

You smiled a little. “I mean he shouldn’t regret breaking up with me just because I put in more effort on looking decent but I get your point.”

Mark internally facepalmed himself. Why would he say such a thing? “Okay, why don’t we just go now?”

You nodded and looped your arm around his arm. “Okay.”

Mark didn’t know what was happening. Sure, you knew her and you talked a few times but why was she close today? He blamed it on the break-up but it can’t be only that, right? To be honest it didn’t feel bad. To walk with you side by side. You talked and got along a lot. Mark was a quiet type but when he talked he exactly knew what to say. You appreciated his advice.

After arriving at the party, you separated. Mark told you that he would get drinks for the two of you. It was a house party, basically a huge mansion owned by Park Jinyoung’s family. Before entering the kitchen to get drinks, Mark saw Hana with a few of her friends. He stopped in tracks and admired Hana’s nice smile, even though your smile was really nice too. Wait, why was he thinking this?

“Really, Hana? You’re dating Taeyong now?”, Hana’s friend asked curiously with a smirk on her face.

“I wouldn’t say dating… It was just a few times but that’s all. He literally left Y/N to be with me, isn’t that funny?”, Hana laughed out loudly. “Guys are so desperate sometimes!”

“Wait, you made them break-up and you do not want to date him?”, another girl asked Hana.

“Nah, he’s not really my type…”, Hana said in a bored tone.

“I call dibs on Taeyong!”, Hana’s friend said and laughed with her.

Mark was perplexed. He never heard Hana talk that way. She slept with Taeyong on purpose just because she felt like it? That made no sense to Mark.

“You know who’s cute?”, Hana began. “Mark Tuan is. He’s so shy to talk to me! I noticed it, maybe he’s my new boyfriend!”, she said and her friends started giggling like crazy.

Now he really didn’t know what to do or say. The girl he had a crush on for so long just said that he was cute. But why wasn’t he happy about it? Mark knew. He knew that it was because of her disgusting character. He never wanted to admit it. He wanted it to be a misunderstanding and that Hana was innocent. But now he couldn’t think that anymore.

While Mark was gone, you sat in a corner and watched everyone. You even saw Taeyong but you quickly hid somewhere. Your plan by coming to this party was to embarrass Hana and Taeyong. Now that you’re here, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Even though both of them were horrible human beings, you were better than that. You felt very uncomfortable at the party and got up to leave. But before you could leave, Taeyong stood in front of you.

“Y/N… Why are you here?”, Taeyong said, his eyes showing an emotion that you can’t quite decipher.

“I was invited. Can’t I go to a party without you breathing down my neck?”, you snapped. It hurt to see him. Even though you decided that the break-up was for the best, you still couldn’t just forget him.

“Sorry for asking. I just wanted to know how you are doing…”, he told you, guilt dripping from his voice.

“How do you think I’m doing, huh?”, you said angrily, trying not to cry.

“Look, maybe we should talk. I think I made a mistake.”, he said with urgency in his voice.

“Oh, you think?”, you said sarcastically. Just before Taeyong could reply Mark came back to you without any drinks in his hands. “Y/N, let’s leave, okay?”, he said and glared at Taeyong.

You looked at him with a confused expression. “Okay.”, you nodded.

Taeyong was angry now. “I made a mistake, okay? So what? I slept with Hana because I thought that I might be with her but I know now that I love you! We should be together, Y/N! Why would you leave with that loser?”, he shouted at you, attracting the attention of everyone.

Hana looked furious. Looks like her reputation as an angel was over.

You know now that you didn’t have to embarrass them yourself. They did it themselves. Both, Taeyong and Hana, were pathetic in your eyes. “Mark’s twice the man than you’ll ever be. You and Hana deserve each other.”, you just said and grabbed Mark’s hand to leave the party.

After walking for a while, Mark broke the silence. “I expected you to plan something bad, you know? You seemed very determined to embarrass Hana.”

“I think she embarrassed herself enough on that party, don’t you think? I also started thinking about the things you said to me.”, you stopped and looked at him. “You were right. I didn’t have to do anything. I am better than that. With my anger I didn’t know what do to, I was so lost. But you brought me back to reality. Thank you. I really can’t thank you enough.”, you smiled at him. You felt relieved. As if a huge burden was now lifted off you.

Mark’s heart started beating faster. You listened to him and thought about his words. It made him appreciate you more. “You know, I heard Hana saying that she slept with Taeyong on purpose. Was there any bad blood before all of this?”

“I guess it goes way back in time. Since we were teenagers. I don’t know why but she disliked me the moment she met me. Everything I did was a challenge for her. Maybe my boyfriend was, too, a challenge.”, you said and sighed.

“I get it.”, Mark told you. “You know what else I heard her say? She said that she thought that I was cute. That I might be her next boyfriend.”, he said in a calm voice. Why was he telling you this now?

“Oh.”, you knew you sounded kind of disappointed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Mark smiled at you knowingly. “You don’t sound happy about that?”

“Huh? I don’t care. Do whatever you want to do.”, you said in a rushed voice.

He stepped closer to you. “Really? You don’t care?”, he smiled at you. “Come on, y/n. Why would I date someone so… evil? Like you said.”, he laughed and so did you.

“Well, that’s great then.”, you said with evident relief in your voice. “Why don’t we continue walking then?”, you started walking but you quickly noticed that Mark didn’t move. “Mark?”

Before you knew it, Mark walked up to and grabbed your face. “Please let me do this…” before you could say anything, he pressed his lips on yours. It felt like time stopped. Your heartbeat out of your chest. You didn’t feel this spark for a long time. Recovering from the shock, you started kissing him back.

He pushed you against the lamppost that was right next to you and kept kissing you. It felt right and you never wanted to stop. Mark stopped kissing you and put his forehead on yours. “I’m not the bold guy to such moves, you know that… but with you, it felt right. I think I know why Hana would do all of this to you. You are amazing, caring and the coolest person I know. She was jealous of you. And now she has another reason to be jealous.”, he said and smiled at you.

“And what would that be?”, you said, giddily.

“You have me now. But you know what? I will stay with you.”, he said.

Your heart fluttered as you wrapped your arms around Mark’s waist. “I hope so.”, you whispered and closed your eyes. You could hear his fast heartbeat and you knew that your heart was beating as fast as his.

Seeing Hana’s ugly side made Mark realize what was in front of him the whole time. He was, no matter how weird it sounds, a little thankful for Hana showing her ugly side to the world. Otherwise, he would have never done this. Everything fell into place even if this wasn’t Mark’s or your plan. Suddenly you were grateful for everything that has happened because with this experience you really got to know Mark.

♥♥♥

Hey guys! I am alive wow. Last year was very stressful for me. I hope that I can be a little be active from now on. ♥

109 notes · View notes

terrifying-testicles · 5 years

Text

Sugar Daddy!Bakugou x Reader Ch. 2

All right you heathens, it’s here! I want you all to know that pretty much all of this gets written in my free time at my internship lol. I was asked to tag someone in future updates, so if you want to be tagged in the future just lemme know!

The outfits mentioned in the fic appear in this order: 1 2 3

Words: 5.8k

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Bakugou stares at his laptop screen, a deep frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. It had been a week since his friends had suggested being a sugar daddy. Sero and Kaminari had been making jokes at his expense any chance they got. Between missions and patrols, texting him horribly lewd memes. The last time it had happened, Kaminari had been two floors below Bakugou. He was awfully surprised when the ash blond barged in on him training, strolled straight over to Kaminari’s gym bag, grabbed his phone and looked him dead in the eyes as he blew it apart. Mouth agape, Kaminari was speechless as he watched Bakugou saunter out smugly. Kirishima had the decency to only bring it up when they were hanging out outside of work, and was serious about it. Sometimes he threw a joke around, but he chose his words wisely. Bakugou grumbles as he drags his hands down his face. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious about what it would be like to be a sugar daddy. He scoured forums and read accounts from daddies and babies alike, as well as suggestions. The more he considered it, the more he was into the idea. The only problem now was that Bakugou had no clue what to do about his profile. He’d compared different websites used for arrangements, and once he chose one, he went to sign up but…he was unsure. Grey catches his eye, Bakugou turning his head to find dark orange eyes staring back at him. He sighs through his nose and scoots his computer further down his lap. The cat’s eyes light up and he leaps up, settling against Bakugou’s chest. The hero brings his right hand up to scratch between his ears. “Katsuuuuki!” A shrill voice rings out, followed immediately by the slamming of his door. Bakugou groans loudly. Footsteps echo through his apartment before pink fills the doorway to his bedroom. Mina leans against the door frame, hands on either side, reminding Bakugou of a pin-up girl. “How’s my favorite blasty boy?” she asks, grin full of pearly teeth. “Who the fuck gave you a key?” Mina laughs and strolls towards the bed, reaching out to pet his cat. “Senshi, actually.”

The cat purrs loudly in response. That stupid cat adored Mina, always preferring her over any company if she was present. He wouldn’t put it past the ashy feline if the damn thing wasn’t such an idiot most of the time. Mina looks over to the laptop on Bakugou’s knees and gasps loudly. “Is that a sugar daddy site!?” she shrieks. Bakugou sputters and reaches to slam the screen closed but Mina is already snatching it up and jumping over him to land on the bed with a subdued bounce. Senshi leaps off of Bakugou, the Chartreux settling into Mina’s side, purring not unlike that of a boat. Bakugou scoffs at the traitor. “Give that back, freak!” He reaches for his computer but Mina slaps his hand harshly. “I would if this were a joke and it wasn’t you.” The pinkette fixes Bakugou with a sly look. “So, have you made an account, yet?” Bakugou narrows his eyes. “…no.” Mina squeals. “Good! I can help you, then!” “No way!” Bakugou tries once again to take his laptop and is, yet again, smacked away. “Oh, come on,” she whines. “There’s no way you could make a profile that doesn’t come off as scary or too vague.” “Shut up, just give it back.” “No!” Mina brings her legs under her in a crisscross and turns her back to the blond. Senshi yowls in complaint. “I won’t question your decisions, because let’s face it Katsu, you’re hot as fuck and you’re letting it go to waste! I just want you to be successful in your sugar daddy endeavors.” Bakugou had pressed himself against her back, reaching around to grab the laptop, but stops his struggle as Mina finishes talking. He frowns, staring at the Log In or Sign Up page, mulling over her words. Prideful as he is, Bakugou has to admit she’s not wrong. He’s not the most charming person, and he’s not the best at talking about himself in a way that isn’t pure bravado or defensiveness. Mina, on the other hand, is stupidly charismatic and knows her friends to a terrifying degree. Bakugou growls. “Fine, you can help me, but nothing gets posted unless I say so.” Mina whoops and gets to work signing him up. “Hot stuff?” Bakugou asks incredulously. “I’m not going to make you Lord Explosion.” She quips without taking her eyes away from the screen. He just huffs and settles his chin against her shoulder. “I’m guessing you don’t want others to know you’re a pro hero, right?” Mina feels him nod. “Hmm…” Bakugou glances at her, whose brows are drawn in a determined fashion, lips pursed. After a moment she grins and begins typing away, Bakugou barely able to keep up with her wild key strokes. “Hey, don’t make me sound too cocky.” he snaps. Mina rolls her eyes and deletes a few words before rewriting it. “How’s that, then?” Bakugou gives a scrutinizing look, but Mina knows it’s only for show. When he finally nods, Mina tosses the laptop to the side, earning a surprised sound from the man behind her. “Now we need a picture,” she pulls out her phone. “Normally, I’d say only a partial face pic, but it might be easier to recognize you as a hero that way. Plus, you’ve got a killer profile and it’d be a disservice to every prospective baby to hide it.” Bakugou wants to protest, but Mina’s flattery gets her surprisingly far with him at times. This is one of them, so he just puffs out a tired sigh and gestures for her to continue. “To the balcony!”

It’s well past dark when Bakugou finally manages to usher his friend out. Living in the same building as her proved to be a test of his patience on many occasions. Since he got her out, he’s been busying himself with browsing through profiles of women in his area. He’s not sure how to approach anyone on here and suddenly wishes he hadn’t kicked Mina out. Some babies play up the innocence, reminding him of actual adolescent girls, so Bakugou avidly avoids those profiles. Some express their sex appeal loudly, which is definitely not what he’s looking for. He’s getting ready to throw the damn laptop when a familiar face catches his eye. Bakugou clicks on ‘AngelEnergi’ and blanches at the picture. [h/c] ringlets cascading delicately over [s/c] shoulders and exposed collarbone, framing [e/c] eyes and pouty lips. A beautiful sigh, but all Bakugou can see is the mocking face of the woman who took his job into her hands. Bakugou can’t believe his luck, jaw clenching at the embarrassing memory. Her face had been haunting him all week, anger at her actions flaring up at full force and— And what? What could he do? Bakugou isn’t the kind of person to turn her in for unlawful quirk use when she still saved someone. He wasn’t going to message her just to bitch her out, either. In all honesty, he’d been intrigued by her. Loathe as he was to admit it, whatever drove her to act as if a pro hero, while irritating, was still attractive. Not everyone is made to be a hero, but she stepped up, despite the risk she faced. It’s an admirable trait. Bakugou takes a breath to level himself. He scrolls down and looks at her full profile. ‘You can call me Angel, though I may not always be one ;) I’m 23 and work all day in a lab, so from time to time I’d like a little luxury on the side. I’m great conversation and don’t mind being pure arm candy. I’m sweet enough~ My arrangements are preferred to be nonsexual. If you’d like to work something out, just give me a time and place for dinner – has to be somewhere public! – and I will let you know if I’m interested. My available times are below.’ Bakugou glances over the times before opening up her photo album. Beside her profile picture, there’s one of her in a blue, form-fitting evening gown, and another of her in a lingerie set from only the neck down. Bakugou flushes at the last one, quickly clicking out of it. Sure, she’d put the picture up willingly, but he wasn’t one to ogle unless they were face to face. That thought sends the hero into a full force blush that extends down his neck and across the tip of his ears. Senshi pads across the couch and nestles himself against Bakugou’s thigh. Said man scratches the cat’s head with a long sigh. “What do you think?” He glances down at his furry companion, who gives a full-body purr. Bakugou snorts. “Of course you do.”

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You open the bathroom door, steam pouring out into her living room. You step out, towel around your chest and are wrapping another around your hair to set atop your head. You smile at the dog lying on his back in the armchair, snoring loudly. You start to head for your room when your phone dings. Curious, you cross to the coffee table and wake up your phone. The screen lights up with two notifications. You swipe away the game alert, but your thumb hovers over the alert from the dating site. ‘HotStuffZero has sent you a message.’ You raise your eyebrows. It’s been a bit since anyone has messaged you, so you’re somewhat surprised by the late-night contact. You tap the notification and unlock your phone. The message just says, “Friday @ 6” and a link. When you check it, you see it’s an upscale restaurant only a twenty minute train ride from where you live. You tap on the profile and can’t help the way you smile at the handsome face before you. His profile picture is of the man’s side profile, looking out at a presumed skyline, if the cityscape backdrop is anything to go by. His pale blond hair is wild, but his face is stern, all angles. You can’t help but admire the cut of his jaw for a moment. It’s the only picture on his profile so you move on to his bio. ’24, Taurus, feisty. Looking for someone to spoil with gifts and take to events. If you’re seeking out fancy dinner dates, extravagant galas, and no-limit shopping sprees, then let me know. No expectations.’ He’s young, you think. You had yet to meet a sugar daddy on here younger than mid-thirties. It was a pleasant surprise, though the last bit confused you. No expectations? Of me or of him? Either way, you could handle whatever came your way. You returned to your messages and shot off a quick “See you there” before locking your phone and throwing it atop the coffee table. This should be fun.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Bakugou really wasn’t a fan of upscale restaurants like this. Sure, he could afford it, had more than enough money to enjoy bougie spots and high-end meals, but he surely didn’t have the patience for the pompous pricks sat around him. They’d pay him no mind until he opened his mouth, then suddenly everyone within earshot was aghast, but would listen intently as if filling up their gossip arsenal. An ideal date for him would be set at home where he could cook a meal far better than some high-strung chef. Yet, all that he hates about these upscale places are exactly why he’s here, right? To show that he could afford something to ostentatious, that he was more than capable of spoiling his potential baby with absolute ease. Bakugou frowns, realizing he still doesn’t know her name. He can ask once she shows up, but he hates not knowing more about her beforehand. He likes having eh ball in his court, with every advantage he can manage. He made it here half an hour before their set time, with a seat near the back of the restaurant to give him a perfect view of the door and most of the establishment. He already has a wine picked out, waiting until she gets here to order it. Hell, he even knows that they’ve met before, while as far as she is aware he’s nothing but a stranger. Checking his phone, he sighs. Still fifteen minutes before they’d agreed to meet. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so early. His nerves are high, leg bouncing so badly the table has started a light tremor. It’s just a date, not even with a potential partner, but someone who doesn’t even have to like him, so long as the money is good. Bakugou’s stomach goes sour with that thought.

You shuffle up to the restaurant, anxiety nestled between ribs. The exterior is extravagant, taupe sponged brick and burgundy awnings sprouting forth above arched, stained windows. The doors are a dark oak with bronze in-lays that swirl along the edges. One heavy door is propped open, giving way to an even fancier entrance, the host dressed in a deep red dress, looking all the part of someone who belonged here. So much as you craved a luxurious lifestyle, it was still a foreign concept to you. You hadn’t even made it inside but you already felt like you stood out. You were happy to lounge at home in sweats and a tank top, though pants were optional if you had nothing to do that day. You walk in and take deep breaths through your nose and you approach the host stand. The woman glances up and gives a wide smile. “How may I help you, ma’am?” her tone is sugary, and you’re certain she’s actually genuine, your nerves settling somewhat. “Um, I’m meeting someone.” “Name?” the woman asks, opening up the black leather book on the stand. You bark out a laugh, shifting your weight between feet, and clear your throat. “Actually, I don’t know his name.” The host glances up at you, raising a brow. You bite your lip for a second. You almost make an excuse before wondering why the fuck you care what some host you’ll only meet once draws conclusions about from your dilemma. “He’s blond, spiky hair, very handsome,” you trail off, unsure the hostess would have any cue who you were talking about. “Ah,” the woman leans to the side, glancing around the slatted wall behind her to look across the dining room. She points to the back. “He should be right back there.” You smile and thank the hostess before making your way between tables. You spot him, drinking from a glass of water. He’s wearing a maroon button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the top two buttons open. The table cloth hides the rest of him but you’re sure he’s sporting nice shoes; he seems the type. He sets down his glass and suddenly vermilion stares back at you. Heat washes over you in a wave, a shy smile pulling at your lips. When you make it to the table he goes to stand, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “It’s fine.” You pull out the chair and sit, taking a deep breath. “I realized I probably should have asked your name.” you laugh. The man across from you curses under his breath. “Bakugou.” You smile “[L/N].” Bakugou clears his throat. “Uh, you look nice.” You were wearing a silver gown, off the shoulder, a quartz studded belt encircling your waist, the rest of the dress cascading in squared off bunches. Bakugou had caught a glimpse of strappy shoes and a toned thigh peeking through the slit in your dress. He was definitely not prepared to be left breathless by this woman. When they met, you were casual and he wanted nothing more than to tear you a new one. Now, you’re elegant and your smile is mesmerizing. Bakugou doesn’t know what to do about it. “So, um,” your voice brings him back. You had one hand on your glass, fingers tracing the condensation. You look nervous, so different from the defiant fire to your eyes from the previous week, and Bakugou is torn between hating it and loving that it’s probably because of him. “I’m not the kind of baby that asks for money up front, just so you know. I don’t want an allowance or anything like that.” “Right to business, huh?” Bakugou leans forward on his elbows, hands clasped in front of his mouth. You shift in your seat at the intensity of his gaze. You laugh curtly. “Yeah, I just like to get all of that out of the way so it’s less awkward when we get to know each other. I hate having it nag at me the whole time.” You take a sip of your water and glance around the restaurant. You don’t understand why you feel so nervous. Maybe because he’s the youngest sugar daddy you’ve met. Maybe it’s the heavy weight of those piercing eyes. Maybe it’s how unbelievably hot he is. Or is it D, all of the above? You think “So, what are you wanting, then?” You blink at him. “Oh, well. I guess I’m just looking to be pampered.” “Why—” “Good evening,” Both of you look at the server. Bakugou curls his lip, irked by the interruption. You greet him kindly before they are asked what they want. Bakugou orders the bottle of wine he’s been waiting for and turns to his date. “Know what you want?” he asks. You blush and quickly snatch the menu up. “No, I’m sorry.” He’s somewhat satisfied by your flustered state. “No worries. I shall return in a moment with your drinks.” The server leaves as quickly as he appeared. You chuckle nervously. “I should’ve checked first, sorry.” “Stop apologizing.” He snaps. He hadn’t meant for it to come out, but it’s become a reflex at this point after years spent shaking Kirishima out of his self-deprecating mindset. You look surprised for a moment, until a sly smile quirks the corner of your mouth. You are suddenly made aware that your date may be less reserved than you originally thought. “You were saying?” you prompt. Bakugou furrows his brows a moment before remembering what you’re referring to. “I was gonna ask why you don’t just date someone instead.” You purse your lips. He’s definitely bold, not holding his tongue for the sake of being polite. You appreciate it. “Well, I spend a lot of time at work and don’t really want to invest myself in looking for someone and settling down. I can’t risk being held back for a partner, no matter how much my mother hounds me for it.” Bakugou can’t help the smirk that makes its way to his expression. He’s quite similar in his reservations. “What about you?” she asks, eyes trained on the menu as she searches for something that sounds good. “I don’t have time to fuck around when I’m working to be the best.” He notices her quick glance up at the curse word, but she otherwise seems unbothered. “Interesting,” she murmurs, loud enough for him to hear. You are smirking, still reading the menu, not giving any explanation for what you mean. The server steps up to the table, wine bottle in hand. He pours you each a glass and sets the bottle on the table, taking your orders and scurrying off again. You drink from your glass while staring at Bakugou. He quirks a brow at you, one hand fiddling with his silverware while the other lays, palm flat to the table. “What?” You set your glass down but keep fingers wrapped around the stem, stare unwavering. “Have…you seem familiar.” Bakugou grins in an almost feral way. Your eyes narrow. You know that smile from somewhere, teeth bared in a subtly dangerous way. Wild hair and piercing red eyes… You open your mouth to speak, but Bakugou beats you to it. “I feel like I should be offended,” he leans in, smirk widening, and you tense. “After showing me up, playing hero,” At that your [e/c] eyes go wide. “you’d think you’d remember me.” You bush your chair back. “I’m sorry, I just– listen, I—” you start to stand, panic overtaking you, until fingers wrap tightly around your wrist. You heart stops for a second, meeting his stern glare. “Hold the fuck on. I’m not here to get you in trouble, idiot.” Bakugou wants to smack himself. He’s not trying to scare you off but he’d doing a damn good job of it. You hesitate. Slowly, you sit back in your seat, arm still held in a vice grip. “You’re…not? Even though I used my quirk in public like that?” He sighs and lets go of her wrist, leaning back in his chair. “No,” he takes a large drink of his wine before continuing. “When I realized it was you I was tempted, but…” Bakugou purses his lips, unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know. I wanted to see what kind of person pulls that kind of shit. I guess.” You eye him. He seems almost skittish, shoulders tensed up and holy shit you can see the muscles rippling under the button up. “I…so you’re Ground Zero?” her voice is barely above a whisper and Bakugou is thankful for the discretion. He nods. You nod in return, thinking. “I couldn’t help it. I just reacted, I guess.” Bakugou leans forward, prompting you to continue. “I always wanted to be a hero. My quirk is perfect for it, too.” You give a strained smile. “Energy manipulation and absorption. My hair acts as a conductor for me to draw in energy. Electric, kinetic, even drawing it from people if we touch skin-to-skin.” You wiggle your fingers around for emphasis. “I can take it and put that energy into my movements. As long as I move around I can channel it. Put extra power behind punches and jumps. Problem is, overuse leads to nosebleeds, migraines, and most importantly seizures.” You let out a heavy sigh through your nose, scooting your chair closer to the table and leaning forward. You keep your eyes off of Bakugou’s face, not keen on seeing how he reacts. “I had a pretty bad seizure when I was 14 and the doctor said if I pushed it I would be more prone to having them with future quirk use. So, being a hero was no longer an option. I mean, who wants a pro to go down in a fight due to a seizure? Too much risk.” Your voice trails off and you bite your lip. You glance up at Bakugou. His brow is pinched, a hard frown in place. “I didn’t mean to make it awkward—" “Shut up.” Your jaw clacks shut, eyes wide. Bakugou turns his head away with a huff. “It’s fine.” He flicks his eyes to match yours, one hand clenching and unclenching on the table. Bakugou wasn’t expecting that response. He’s only spoken with you for less than twenty minutes but he’s starting to understand that the woman seated across from him will not be anything he expects. It excites him. “What do you do instead?” he asks to change the subject. You light up almost immediately, smile spreading and bunching up your cheeks. Cute, he thinks. “I work in a lab! I’m the supervisor for my lab, actually. It’s a University funded lab, and my team works on experiments and studies related to physics with a little bit of kinesiology thrown in. Since my quirk has a lot to do with kinetic energy, I love conducting studies around it. We share somewhat with a team of chemists, but we generally get along.” Bakugou listens intently as you gush about your work and the seemingly crazy group you work with. Your food arrives and the two fall into a relative quiet as you eat. Bakugou is surprisingly comfortable with the lull in conversation. He’s used to Kirishima, who talks while stuffing his face, which usually turns into a lecture from the ash blond. On to pof that, his ex would get so caught up in talking that she’d let her food get cold. Bakugou finishes off his wine to drown the memory. You are mostly done with your meal when you prop your head in one hand and watch Bakugou. When his gaze lifts to yours, you smile softly. “What made you want to be a hero?” you ask with genuine curiosity behind bright [e/c]. Bakugou could give you an honest answer. He could tell you how he grew up being a big fan of All Might, became inspired by the number one hero to work hard and be even greater. If he were honest, he’d tell you that he still looks up to the former hero and has a faint desire to prove himself to his old teacher. But honesty is vulnerability, and Bakugou may as well have censored the entire concept of vulnerability from his mind entirely. Instead, he gives you a cocky smile and says, “With a quirk like mine, I knew I had to be the best.” You arch a brow, lips pressing together in a thin line. You hum noncommittally and Bakugou can tell you think his answer is bullshit. So used to his friends, he expects to be called out without mercy. For the third time that night you completely throw him for a loop. “Well, you’ve certainly made your way up there. Probably one of the best pros climbing the charts right now.” You know that he knows it’s purely said to sate him, but you bit back a smile when he visibly puffs up, a haughty demeanor taking root that’s near impossible to miss. “I’m not sure I ever imagined that the great Ground Zero would ever seek a sugar baby, much less of me.” You are pouring yourself another glass of wine as you say this. You lift the glass to your lips and lift your eyes to meet his. You’re startled by the sharp gaze that greets you. “If this is gonna happen then there’s gonna be rules,” he starts, tone eerily even. “First rule: don’t fucking sell yourself short. I’m the best and only accept the best, so quit shitting on yourself. I don’t wanna hear that self-deprecating bullshit.” All you can do is nod, throat tight. “Second,” Bakugou lounges back in his chair, not unlike a King who knows the power he holds over his court. You grip your glass tight, eye wide and attentive. He feels something warm swell in his chest at your undivided attention, warmth spindling up behind his sternum and into the dip where his throat meets collarbone. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m a sugar daddy. I don’t care what people think of me, but my PR agent would have my head if rumors like that went around. In public, we’re together, but no one needs details.” “You’re a private person, I take it?” your voice is quiet as you sip at the wine. “If I want someone to know my business, they will. My fans and the press don’t need to know shit about me outside of when I’m kickin’ ass.” He punctuates the sentiment with a deep scowl. You nod, smiling softly. “I agree. I’m not the kind of person to share my life with the world, only what I want them to see of me.” Bakugou grunts. “There’s gonna be events I take you to, public shit with press and all those fucking vultures. They’ll probably ask you about ‘us’ but you don’t gotta answer anything.” He narrows his eyes. “And if you do, watch what you say.” You chuckle. “You don’t need to worry.” Your smile widens, teeth on display and a playful glint in your eyes. “Do I get to call you any pet names?” “Not if you want to keep your tongue.” At that, you bust out in laughter. Patrons seated around you shoot glares your way, though neither seem to care. When you settle down, you tell him, “Noted. Anything else?” Bakugou flexes his jaw in thought. “Not right now but I’ll tell you if I think of anything.” The two fall into another comfortable silence as Bakugou finishes his meal. You observe the people around you, the way they hold an air of superiority about them despite no effort on their part, elegance second nature to them. You had worried that your date would leave you feeling inadequate, making you hyper aware of the role you were playing that felt so unfamiliar. Yet here you were with your favorite hero, feeling free to be as much yourself as the situation allowed. Hell, more so, even. The server comes by to leave the check and take their plates. Bakugou glances over the ticket, then reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. You expect a credit card, like the dates before him, but instead he pulls out large bills and tosses them onto the table. He stands and quickly moves to pull out your chair. He even goes so far as to offer his arm. You take it with a bashful smile. Once outside, you take a deep breath of the city air. This side of town was quieter, less pollution and traffic. Bakugou pulls away and faces you. “I’ll call you a cab.” “Oh no, I can take the train.” He shoots you a look that says ‘Excuse me?’ so you shut your mouth and look to your feet. The hero takes out his phone and taps away before putting it back in his pocket. “Are you telling me you took a fucking train to get here? In that?” Bakugou gives you a once over, jealously flaring inside his chest at the thought of others eyes you up like this. He’s unsure why he feels so strongly about it, but he’s long past the days of shoving his emotions into a box and wishes he just knew how to make the ugly feeling fuck right off. “Uh, yeah? I don’t have a car.” You shrug. A growl bubbles up from Bakugou’s throat and he takes a step closer to you. You straighten, face now mere inches from his, those vermilion orbs pinning you in place. “From now on, when we meet, I’ll pick you up.” You can only nod, voice gone under his gaze. He nods, stepping out of your space. You take a deep breath now that you feel you are able. “There’s a stupid gala in a week and a half. I’ll give you details later.” Bakugou holds out his hand and for a moment you stare at it, confused. He clears his throat. “I need your phone, dumbass.” You jolt with an “oh!” before pulling it from your purse and handing it to him. “It’s some fundraiser my agency and a couple others are throwing. I don’t remember what for, but heroes and other celebrities are gonna be there.” He hands you back the phone. “Be sure to dress nice. This is your debut.” As he says the last bit, he pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and holds it out to you. You balk, taking a moment to stare before your fingers timidly curl around the paper. “Buy something that’s solid. Even Mina is ditching print.” You have no idea who that is but just nod your head in understanding. He keeps making you feel like words are impossible to conjure. No one has ever made you so speechless. A car pulls up to the curb and Bakugou has the door open and is ushering you in before you even realize. From your seat, you blink up at your date owlishly. He leans on the car door, dim fairy lights casting a warm glow behind him. “And one last thing,” Bakugou leans in, forehead almost pressed to the car’s cool metal lip. His voice drops to a level only you can hear, a purr edging his words. “I better be the only you call Daddy. Got that?” You feel pins and needles prodding your cheeks and numbing your fingers. You nod dumbly. He shakes his head, arching a brow in expectation. Swallowing, you shift in your seat. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper shyly. He rewards you with a wide smirk, teeth peeking out behind pink lips, and leans back, hand gripping the door and fuck you can’t stop gawking at those biceps. Bakugou feels pride at the way you eye his arms, and maybe he flexes a little just to show off. “Night, baby.” With that, the door slams shut and the car pulls away from the restaurant. You raise your voice enough to tell the driver your address, then return to the daze the hero had left you in. It takes a few long minutes before you are able to pull it together. You flip through the cash he gave you, eyes growing to saucers when you see he gave you a whole ¥50,000. You couldn’t believe he’d give you so much, and for a dress! You stuff it into your purse and pull out your phone, staring at the new contact. You huff at it, Bakugou having put his name, just plain and boring, and edit the contact, changing the name to Daddy followed by an explosion emoji. You pull up a new conversation and shoot off a text to ensure he has your number. The whole way home you grin like a maniac, a light buzzing resonating through your entire being. You’re in a daze as you climb up the 4 flights of stairs to your apartment, humming something random as you unlock your door, only grounding when Rōrupan barrels into you and sends you right on your ass. You place both hands on either side of the dog’s face, scratching intently and sighing dreamily. “It seems things are turning out pretty good for me, Rōru.” The rest of your night is a haze of excitement humming in your veins.

Bakugou makes it home, thoughts stuck on the woman he spent his evening with. When he walks through the door Senshi immediately appears at his feet, rubbing himself across Bakugou’s leg, purring loudly like he has a car engine for a heart. The blond picks him up and scratches under his chin while wandering around the loft aimlessly. He’s left with a light feeling, energy swimming through his body and he doesn’t understand it. All of this from one date? Bakugou scoffs as he sets Senshi on the bed. “You should have seen how gorgeous she was,” he mutters to the cat. He removes his shirt, receiving a chirp in response from his companion. “You’d like her…but I guess you’re a whore for anyone who will give you attention, huh?” Senshi rolls onto his back, wiggling and mewing, as if to say, “Why don’t you give me attention?” Bakugou rolls his eyes affectionately, then continues to get ready for bed. And if he dreams of carding his fingers through [h/c] hair and kissing soft skin, that’s only between him and his cat.

_-_-_-_-_

@sessi03

#my writing #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugouxreader #guys i was starting this chapter and then had an epiphany #during a nap i realized that i was going to turn what was intended to be a couple chapters at most #into a fucking slowburn #i hope you bitches are PREPARED #cause i'm not #but it literally keeps me awake at night thinking about where this shit's gonna go #i have basic ideas for the main shit but the rest i'm just like #whatever lets see what happens ig

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isthatbloodonhisshirt · 4 years

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New Year’s Wrap Up!

Thank you @corancoranthemagicalman for tagging me in this! I honestly don’t ever think about these things ahaha |D So this is kinda cool tbh. Thank you :3

Does my current WIP technically count in this case? I’ll pretend it does, I mean, I WROTE it in 2019, just didn’t post it until December 30th |D lol So technically, it counts, it’s only a WIP on Ao3, not on my computer :P

Fics that you wrote in 2019

Up Down Lock Unlock (Sterek, 42k, G)

Through the Window (Sterek, 6.8k, G)

Business Skype (Sterek, 6k, G)

It Was a Wednesday (Sterek, 80k, M)

Be Still My Heart (You’re Beating Too Loud and my Neighbour’s a Bitch) (Sterek, 34k, T+)

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit is This? (Sterek, 196k, E)

Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in their Life (Sterek, 18k, T+)

There’s no Escape for the Potato Man (Sterek, 54k, T+)

SuperWing, Stucky and SlaDick, Oh My! (Sterek, 34.8k, T+)

Quack (Stiles Stop Calling It That) (Sterek, 16k, T+)

Because Family is More than Just Blood (Sterek, 5K, G)

I mean, again, TECHNICALLY Actions Speak Louder Than Words also counts because I wrote it in 2019 and am just posting most of it in 2020... So... (Sterek, 384k, E)

We are going to assume all questions are answered with the inclusion of Actions.

Total Fics: I wrote 12 fics this year. Enough to be considered one a month, except definitely not one a month since Twilight took me two months and Actions took me a fucking ETERNITY, like, I think I started in July? Maybe August, but still, took me FOREVER!

Total Words: 877,632. Less than last year :( I broke a million words last year. Maybe I can break 2 Million in 2020! (LOL Yeah no...)

Ship/Character Breakdowns: LOL Sterek. That’s... that’s it...

Best/Worst Title: Best Title (IMO): What Fresh Twilight Bullshit is This? (Idk man, I laugh every time I think about it, so I like it) Runner up Best Title: It Was a Wednesday Worst Title: Up Down Lock Unlock. (I legit had no idea what to call that fic, so, you know |D)

Best/Worst First Line: Best First Line: From “Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in Their Life”

To be fair, he hadn’t exactly meant to throw him into a tree.

Worst First Line: From “Quack (Stiles Stop Calling It That)”

“Stiles.” A loud grunt escaped said individual at the harsh smack to his posterior. “Up. Get up.”

General Questions

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I feel like kind of less than I thought. I had plans for two others but then Actions took over and I know myself well enough to know if I didn’t finish it first, I never would. So I’m gonna take a short break to catch up on like, life >.> And then start back up again starting with a long overdue birthday present. Hopefully I can write more in 2020 \o/

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

HAHAHA Uh, I only wrote Sterek and I knew I would only write Sterek so I guess I knew all along? Man, I write too much Sterek...

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Probably It Was a Wednesday. I mean, it was super SAD, and I was AWFUL to poor Stiles, but idk, I don’t write Derek’s POV very much, and I kind of liked having Derek be the one to save someone else for once. And I liked that he was the only one who could truly understand what Stiles had gone through compared to everyone else. It was also nice being able to write a fic where it showcases the pack can’t survive without Stiles because once he disappeared, the pack fell apart, and my honest opinion is that that is 100% what would happen. Without Stiles, the pack can’t function and begins to fracture, so it was fun writing them coming back together around him when he returned.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

From 2019, What Fresh Twilight Bullshit is This? To be fair, it’s like, 116k words longer than my next longest fic of 2019 so I feel like that’s an unfair comparison lol.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

I say It Was a Wednesday -slams hands on desk- But I’m biased because it’s my fav from 2019 >.> But it’s number 5 kudos-wise for 2019! I think it’s the angst. The first four are all more fluffy (Except Twilight, but it has an equal amount of fluff and angst). I guess my real self is coming out. SURPRISE! I am an Angst Queen >.>

Story that could have been better?

Be Still My Heart (My Neighbour’s a Bitch and You’re Beating Too Loud). Honestly, not super happy with that fic, but I wrote it for personal reasons. To copy/paste so as not to repeat myself:

(As of October 2019) So basically, Stiles is currently me. I have had a neighbour complaining about me for literally 31 months (which, for people bad at math like me, is OVER two years) and they are literally ruining my life. I have massive anxiety every time I do anything, INCLUDING SLEEP, and I basically cannot live my life in any capacity. The building manager is really nice to me, but the property manager is pretty much useless and the complaints continue to come during times where I am literally passed out in bed. In light of that, I wrote this fic because by God, I needed some fucking happy in my life over a situation I have no control over. Is Derek in the wrong? I mean, yeah, I never say he's not. Did Stiles suffer? Of course he did. But you know what? He got a happy ending, because turns out his anxiety was due to a poor decision on Derek's part, and he felt terrible about it. I don't get a happy ending, I get constant anxiety and apologetic texts from the building manager because it's his job to tell me he knows I'm sleeping but lady is still complaining. So given I wrote this to make myself feel better, and I decided to share it with you, do me a favour and instead of making me feel worse by telling me how horrible I am and how shitty Derek is, just hit the red X in the corner instead and you can avoid having to look at this fic again. People write things for various reasons, it'd be real great if there was a bit more understanding and a bit less attacks in the world. You don't know why someone wrote something or what's going on with the person on the other end of the computer screen. So just click the X if you hated this fic and thought Derek was a dick to Stiles. I know he was, but Stiles at least gets to live his life anxiety-free because the building manager was in love with him. I get to go cry in the shower every night.

Sexiest story?

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? It’s the only one with smut, I’m pretty sure, so it’s really the only one that counts |D

Saddest story?

It Was a Wednesday, hands down. I was really mean to Stiles in it.

Most fun?

Oh man, uhhhh... Oh maaaaaaaaan.... I thought it would be between two of them, but it’s between FOUR... Business Skype, There’s No Escape For the Potato Man, Quack (Stiles Stop Calling It That) and SuperWing, Stucky and SlaDick, Oh My!

Hmmmmmmmmmm..... hmhmhmhmhmhmhm....

UGH! This is hard. Okay, I’ma go with Potato Man. I got the idea randomly and it was ridiculous but still fun, so I’m gonna stick to that. It was my first instinct, going with it.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

Actions Speak Louder Than Words, but I can’t quote the part because it hasn’t been posted yet |D

So runner up is It Was a Wednesday:

“Need is a very specific thing. Your dad needs you, because he doesn’t know how to function without you. He needs you to be there to watch what he eats, and he needs you to stay close to him so he knows he hasn’t lost everyone he cares about. He needs you like a dying man needs one more breath. He’s desperate for it.

“Scott needs you, too. He needs you to keep him out of trouble. He needs you to challenge him, to keep him in line, to keep the Pack together. He needs you to be the voice of reason, to make the plans, to know when to fight and when to turn tail and run. Scott needs you like an Alpha needs a second, because he doesn’t know how to do this without you. He doesn’t know how to exist without you in his orbit, because you’ve never not been in his orbit before.

“But me? I don’t need you. At all. Because I survived before you, and I survived after you. I can manage without you in my life, but the difference is I won’t. Because I want you. I want you to be in my life. I want you in my space, arguing with me, annoying me, being infuriatingly right all the time. I want you to be a part of my future, whether it’s as a coworker at the garage, as a Packmate to this broken Pack that I don’t even know can be salvaged, as a friend, as a brother, I don’t care. All I know is that want and need are two different things, and just because I don’t need you doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

Hardest story to write?

Actions Speak Louder Than Words, hands down. I love dialogue. Like, loooooooooooove dialogue, which is why writing fics with tons of texting make me supremely happy. And I decided, hey, what if I wrote a fic where one of the two main characters is cursed and can’t speak? What if I did that? And then what if I made it ALMOST 400k? WHAT IF I VERY SMARTLY DID THAT LIKE A VERY SMART PERSON?

I’m lucky I’m still sane, tbh.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Okay, Business Skype can go here then. Because it was definitely the easiest, and also really fun :)

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I mean, kind of It Was a Wednesday, I guess. Like I said above, it made me think about how the pack can’t function without Stiles, personally. So I’d say probably that one for that reason.

Most overdue story?

Actions Speak Louder Than Words. That thing was an asshole to me :(

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? I don’t think so? Unless writing really excessively long fics this year counts? Because I did two of those... And clearly, I learned nothing from that suffering.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

To not take five months to write one fic... That’d be good |D Kinda wanna do another challenge, but don’t know what. I’ll think on it. If anyone has any challenge ideas, let me know :)

#not tw #corancoranthemagicalman #Blood's yakkity yaks

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youremyonlyhope · 4 years

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Spyfall Part 2

Yay part 2! I’m so ready. Give me more.

While on my lunch break at work today, I nearly opened tumblr on my phone. Then I realized it was after 2pm so the episode was currently airing in Britain. I could have been spoiled if I hadn’t stopped myself.

I see the Doctor is still talking to herself. Old habits die hard. “Don’t panic.” Love Hitchhiker’s Guide. “RYAN.” HUH “RYAN SINCLAIR?” WHAT? This is reminding me of something... what am I being reminded of... BLINK MAYBE??? YES THIS IS JUST LIKE “SALLY SPARROW DUCK NOW.” THIS IS BLINK. IS THIS BLINK? BECAUSE THIS IS BLINK. ...Who in the world is this lady... “Obviously I’m a recording and can’t hear you.” THIS IS BLINK. Also this is throwing shade at Blink with the “Obviously” part... It is his TARDIS!!!! IT’S A TARDIS. THE HOUSE IS A TARDIS. THE FANS WERE RIGHT. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was a TARDIS or just the Master making a joke by having the house fly by them. But nope, IT’S A TARDIS. I literally screamed “IT’S A TARDIS” out loud. “Magic Apparrating Man! Lady. Apparrating Lady! Every time...” That made my dad laugh. But I mean, 1100 years at least of being a man, not counting the 4 billion years in the confession dial. It takes getting used to. Marooned in the past. Chibnall, I really hate to say this, but this is becoming a little too similar to Blink. Just because of the being trapped in the past and leaving messages for the present thing. The lace bonnet had looked super.... weird in the other realm. In a cool way. A way that made me wonder what material it was made of and if she was really from the mid 1800s or if she was just an alien with clothing that imitated the style. Because the way the lace glowed was cool. Also. Why does Ada seem familiar to me? OH NO. Lol. “O no.” I didn’t even do that on purpose. That face she made as she realized the Master’s not in control was such a Doctor face. “Ada, I really do not approve.” Aww Doctor. Never change. I like the old lady taking a picture with an iPad. Yaz calling her mom is a very Martha move and I approve. The Silver Lady was in the Master’s TARDIS.... “From his master” oh ok. “Multiple time periods” OOoohhhhh. Not multiple Earth dimensions then. I was gonna say that I was thinking of Weeping Angels earlier in the day today... I’m not saying these are Weeping Angels... but getting the vibes from the time travel and pulling people in and out and stuff. Oh and I was right that they can transport people purposefully. Did I say that in the last post? I can’t remember. But when Yaz was transported last episode I was like “So they can transport people places?” and the answer is a definite yes, and also in time. Also. Ada Lovelace. I know that name... I know I know that name... “Deep breath” ok now I miss Twelve. Of course it’s WWII. This music reminds me of like... Star Wars... Something from the sequel trilogy sounds like this... or at least has this vibe... Also. I don’t know how I feel about an Indian man in a Nazi uniform. That just... they wouldn’t have let him do that, first of all. Second of all, can we not? These are all women so far that the Doctor is bumping into... And I feel like it’s meaningful... Why would he do that to his mom? Noor Khan, I feel like I DEFINITELY have heard of her. Important women in science? I’m guessing Ada was a mathematician I think, but I can’t really remember. “They promised us that a war on this scale would never happen again.” “This is not the first time?” Ugh. WWI and pre-WWI people finding out about WWII always hurts. IT’S THE DOCTOR DOING THE SOUND OF THE DRUMS. Just the sound of the drums gives me chills. Is this a Old Who thing? The mind reading? She said it was classic. “Not exactly the Aryan archetype.” THAT’S WHAT I WAS SAYING. OOoooooh a perception filter. So they think he’s white. Ok. Ok that’s better.

Also, I’m sorta glad they’re actually addressing race affecting time travel to different time periods. They didn’t do it with Martha enough/at all. They tried to do it with Bill, and I did appreciate the “History is a whitewash” and London being blacker than Bill thought it was, but because London was diverse it wasn’t really an issue (besides the racist the Doctor punched). But I’m glad this is an actual situation where being another race is genuinely DANGEROUS since that’s how it was.

“Look after my mum” So is she not dead? Or is he mocking them? They can’t have destroyed Gallifrey again. He’s lying It was probably the Master himself that killed everyone if he’s not lying. “How else would I get your attention?” Awwww. That’s almost sweet. It’s sweet by Master standards ok. Ok... letting Nazis attack the Master... for being a spy... while he’s a person of color... is pretty harsh... Of course the Nazis can’t do much damage... And the Master did willing side with them to find the Doctor... But still... Very harsh... I guess after everything the Master has done... Maybe he deserves to be on the receiving end of racism since he hates humans so much... But still. “Forget you heard that word.... Otherwise I’ve just disrupted the whole of history. Again.” Doctor. Babe. Control yourself. Ok so it was people who were important in the development of computers in general. Cool cool cool. I appreciate that Ada and Noor were the ones the Doctor specifically bumped into. “You kept clicking agree” Yeah... yeah... he got us there. “This is like the Matrix” - My Dad. OH wow the Master came the long way round. 77 years. I’d almost say poor dude. Conversion!?!? NO. NOT CYBERMAN! IF THERE’S CYBERMEN THEN IS THIS A 3-PARTER?! “Oh.” “That’s your name.” HA. HA, good one Doctor. “I forgot the plane!” No you didn’t, Doctor. Don’t worry. You can do it anytime, as long as you do it at some point. “Are we being replaced?” Oh Graham. But also, I want the next companions to be from the past. See in Blink we didn’t get to see the Doctor setting everything up like we’re seeing it now. So that’s cool. Imagine if we had seen Martha standing behind the camera annoyed, then running around to say “I gotta support him!” That could have been fun. I think I just want more Martha in Blink. “The Fascists. Do they win?” “Never” Yeah I really hope not, but time is repeating itself. I guess it will also repeat them not winning. That’s sweet that the Doctor still wants her to know that computers are a thing because of Ada. And I appreciate that the show didn’t try to be like “She helped make computers because of the Doctor.” because no, she made them because she was always going to. Oh wow we’re going back to Gallifrey?? We haven’t been in a while. Been wondering if we would.

I didn’t write anything for the last few minutes because I’m just like... HUH.

First of all, I knew the Master did it. Called it.

Second of all. I was like “Oh no. The Doctor just got Gallifrey back, do we HAVE to take it away again? To make her angsty?” Then we heard the Master’s reason for destroying it and I was like ok maybe there’s justification.

Third of all. The Time Lords have always sucked. We’ve known this forever. The Doctor has said that the Time Lords went wrong at the end of the Time War and that they choose to remember them in a good way and forget the ugly side. So we know the Time Lords suck. That’s not a surprise. What is it that they did that was so bad, the MASTER of all people felt the need to put an end to it? The Master. As in the little boy who was driven crazy because the Time Lords chose to put the Sound of the Drums in his head and use him as a weapon. He didn’t destroy Gallifrey then, so what could be worse than that? Do I even want to know? They’ll tell us, but I don’t know if I want to hear it. We might be going very dark this season...

Fourth of all, yay! They’re asking the Doctor questions and she’s answering! Yay! And Yaz asking “Can we go to your planet?” was the second Martha thing she did.

And fifth, yay! We’re probably getting an overarching theme this season! And maybe the Master isn’t completely evil, since everyone’s so worried about Missy’s redemption! He’s just hurt by what he found, felt he had to destroy Gallifrey, and is still upset about it. When he said the Timeless Child I literally said out loud “OH. OH ok so we’re really doing this then.” because I felt like all the predictions of the Timeless Child being involved were probably right... but not like this.

EPIPHANY. What if he really was just doing all this to get the Doctor’s attention? He wants the Doctor share the burden of the truth, but doesn’t know any other way to get her to listen besides do horrible things. What if he didn’t kill, plot, and plan just for the hell of it and maybe rub Gallifrey in the Doctor’s face, but the ultimate goal was to get that message to the Doctor so the Doctor could find out about Gallifrey.

Honestly I’m concerned about what it is that the Time Lords lied about. What did the Master mean by “who we are as a species” like... I’m scared.

Also halfway through the episode my mom came in (she’s super behind, as in she hasn’t even watched Capaldi’s seasons yet) and she said “You have to stop screaming ‘IT’S A TARDIS IT’S A TARDIS’ of course it’s a TARDIS that’s what she drives.” So apparently my mom heard my freak out over the Master’s TARDIS. She heard me screaming last episode too when I was jumping at the Master reveal.

Anyway. Sorta Blink-esque in that Ryan, Yaz, and Graham being saved is an endless loop if causing itself because of previously planted messages from the Doctor. But also, we got a mini history lesson, which was the point of Doctor Who in the first place. Gallifrey’s gone and apparently Time Lords suck, but what else is new. And we got the Master finding out the effect that race has in certain (or all) time periods. Hopefully the Master’s back soon. We really were spoiled rotten by Season 10 when they gave us Missy in like half of the episodes. I need more Master. Give me more Master.

#hope watches doctor who #ignore me if you want #doctor who #dw spoilers #doctor who spoilers

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the-quiet-winds · 5 years

Text

Terrors Don’t Prey on Innocent Victims (part one)

no one asked for probably the darkest fic that @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i have ever written together, but here it is

serious warnings though: stalking, threats of violence, actual violence

[Part 1: Tell Me You Love Me]

it started off innocent enough.

katherine would find a couple comments on her instagram every day, saying that she’s beautiful and an inspiration and all sorts of nice words.

then, things started to feel weird. the fan, whoever they were, started to become more insistent, creepy and borderline malicious words popping up on katherine’s screen four to five times a day.

back when they were simple compliments, katherine would give them a like as a sign of gratitude, but as the messages got stranger she didn’t feel comfortable doing that any more. the fan, however, seemed to take issue with that.

“why are you ignoring me?” one comment reads. “i was only trying to tell you how special you are.” eventually, katherine blocks the account, but within the hour a new one had been created and was commenting asking why they’d been blocked.

it didn’t take long for jane to notice the shift in katherine’s demeanor. she stops posting as frequently on social media, specifically her instagram, and every time her phone lights up or makes a sound, she physically winces.

jane decides to rip the bandage off and ask her right away. she sits down on the couch next to kat, who is staring at her upside-down phone on the table with a nervous lip bite.

“hey, love,” jane says quietly. “what’s going on with you?”

katherine looks up at her, startled. “hm? oh, nothing.” her gaze darts back to her phone again and her leg bounces anxiously, and jane frowns.

“sweetheart, i know something’s up. you can tell me, kat.”

katherine looks from her phone to jane then back again, and her eyes are wide and nervous. she’s silent for a few seconds, an internal battle of whether to tell jane or not playing in her mind.

without a word, kat picks up her phone and opens instagram, before showing jane her DMs. that one ‘fan’ had sent messages on messages trying to get katherine to respond, some of them borderline sexual and creepy. by the time jane looks up from the phone, katherine is in tears.

“oh, love,” jane pulls her into her arms immediately. “love, i’m so sorry. have you reported them?”

“i’ve tried,” katherine half-sobs. “they just keep coming back.” jane keeps holding kat close, running a soothing hand over her back, but her mind is fiercely angry. how someone could send katherine these messages was beyond her, especially under the guise of being a fan. a wave of protectiveness rushes through her and she murmurs soft reassurance to katherine, already trying to think of ways to stop this person from messaging her daughter any more.

“it feels horrible,” katherine whimpers. “they won’t leave me alone.”

jane is outrageously angry, but keeps her touch soft and soothing and she strokes katherine’s back and hair. she delicately kisses the top of her head.

“we’ll sort this out, kitty-kat. i’m telling you,” jane murmurs, softly but firmly. “nobody’s going to harm you, not on my watch. and not on any of the other queens’ watch either.” katherine clings to her even harder, her tears flowing faster.

“you promise?” she asks, voice shy and childlike.

“of course i do,” jane promises. “i will protect you.”

unfortunately, jane is only human, and no one could possibly foresee what would come that night.

past midnight, when darkness blankets the sky, katherine is peacefully sleeping, but it doesn’t last very long. she is awoken by a loud crashing noise. even in the blackness, she could make out the broken glass on the floor and gaping hole in the window. in the center of the glass pile sits a brick, dark and red, with a message taped to it.

“you can’t get rid of me, kitty-kat.”

katherine can’t even find the voice to scream. instead, she just runs, runs to jane’s room and bursts in. jane, already waking up from the crash, immediately sits up at the sight of katherine.

“love, what’s the matter?”

katherine was obviously distressed, face pale and body trembling. she can’t speak, instead falling into jane’s arms and bursting into tears.

“shh,” jane hushes. “what happened?”

katherine can’t talk, tears and fear overpowering her entirety. jane simply holds her tight, running a hand over her hair in attempts to be soothing.

“what the hell is this?” aragon and cleves burst into the room, tailed by parr and boleyn. in aragon’s hand is some square thing...it looks an awful lot like a brick to jane.

with a heavy gulp and a shudder from katherine, she realizes that’s exactly what it is.

when jane reads the note attached to the brick rage fills her mind. she pulls katherine onto her lap and cradles her like a child, arms soft but with a face like thunder. this person, whoever they are, had gone too far. not only had they invaded their home, their safe sanctuary, but they’d used the nickname that should only be used to make katherine feel loved. a glance around at the other queens lets her know that they are just as furious as she is; they might not know the full situation but it’s still clear that katherine was being targeted by somebody, and nobody messed with katherine and got away with it.

cleves and aragon’s faces darken significantly at the realization. there’s something malicious going on that everyone can sense, even the calm and resolute parr is nearly shaking with anger.

“hush, lovey, hush now,” jane tells the shaking girl in her arms, trying to keep her voice soft and calm. parr quietly steps over and whispers in jane’s ear, “try to get her to sleep, then we can talk.”

the other queens leave the room to give katherine some space. jane keeps holding her, soothing her with gentle words and kisses to her temple while katherine sobs her emotions out. eventually, katherine is all cried out and her eyes start to droop closed from exhaustion. jane doesn’t want to leave her in the room alone, worried about katherine waking up afraid or even worse, the person coming back. however, she also wants to work out what’s going on and how to solve it, so she gently tucks katherine in to jane’s bed and creeps out, leaving the door open so she can hear if there were any disturbances.

when she reaches parr’s room, an interesting sight is awaiting her.

some of the low lights are on, illuminating the four queens in the room. boleyn and cleves are sprawled on the bed, scrolling through the multiple profiles of the person in question. aragon is pacing the floor, debating with parr if calling the police was a next step, while parr herself is at her desk on her computer, researching any similar events. she doesn’t know if she’s relieved or frustrated that there’s nothing to be found.

jane weakly leans on the doorway, katherine’s emotional outburst taxing her as well. “we’re not safe here,” she finally says. “she’s not safe here.”

“that’s why we need to call the police,” aragon nods. “it was bad enough when it was just online, but they’ve actually found where she lives.” parr sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“i want to agree with you, aragon, and i think the police should be told, but i don’t think it’s going to be enough. the only prosecutable thing they’ve done is vandalism, and that isn’t going to get them a sentence. we need to do something more to protect her.”

“none of the profiles comment on anyone’s stuff except howard’s,” boleyn chimes in. she shudders slightly as she scrolls down. “some of it is so creepy.”

cleves nods in agreement, uncharacteristically quiet. “there’s like 10 of them, all saying the same vile things.”

jane’s legs feel weak, her stomach sick, everything horrible and wrong happening all at once.

“there has to be something we can do,” she insists. “we can’t just wait for them to do something else.”

“but there’s nothing we can do right now, jane,” parr says quietly, staring vaguely towards her desk. “we just have to keep katherine safe as best we can.”

jane wants to go back to katherine to make sure she’s definitely alright; in fact, she wants to never let katherine out of her sight again. “i think we should go somewhere,” she says. “get katherine out of the house where they can’t find her.” her fist clenches with anger without her realising. “she deserves a place where she can be safe.”

“we could try,” parr says uneasily. “but if they find her again, i’m not sure what we could do after that.” she digs her thumbs into her temple and sighs. “god, this is so messed up.”

“you’re not wrong, parr,” boleyn calls from the bed, making a disgusted face at one of the comments. “listen to this, ‘you’re too talented for this group. maybe a solo career? or a duo, i’ll come too lol.’ what the hell?!”

aragon opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by a dog barking outside. their neighbor has a dog, a friendly bulldog named rufus, but he never barks. especially in the middle of the night. they glance out the window.

there’s a person standing in the deserted street, dressed in black from head to toe. their face is concealed in shadows, but there’s definitely something sinister.

“‘if you all want to talk, i’ll be waiting here,’” boleyn suddenly says. she shows her phone to cleves, where she had received a direct message from this particular person just a second ago.

“this could be a trap,” parr says evenly. “it’s the perfect way to get everybody out of the house and have katherine here alone.”

“...but it could also be a chance to find out who this creep is,” boleyn finishes the thought. “i don’t want to talk to some faceless stranger in the middle of the night,” she adds. “but it’s still an option.” one by one, they turn slowly to look at jane, who at this point is almost sheet white and leaning heavily against the doorway.

“i’ll go,” she says with as much conviction as she can muster. “cathy?”

“i’ll come too,” she answers. jane nods weakly to her, then looks to the other three. “stay here,” she commands, “keep each other safe. keep an eye on her and us. if anything looks wrong, call the police.”

“no one will hurt her. or us. that’s a promise,” aragon says.

jane nods again before leaving the room, followed by parr. she goes into her own room, where katherine lays asleep, faded tear stains on her cheeks. jane can barely hold herself together as she bends over and kisses katherine’s forehead. “they will keep you safe, kitty-kat,” she whispers so softly she can barely hear herself. “mama loves you.”

in an instant, her demeanor changes. she turns to parr, a dark fire in her eyes. “let’s go see what this bastard wants.”

the two leave the house, parr with some pepper spray tucked into her jacket pocket just in case. boleyn watches them out of the window, having promised to yell to the other two if it seemed like jane and parr were in any trouble.

the figure doesn’t move as they approach, and as they get closer they can see the person is wearing a mask. the hood of their jacket is pulled up over their hair, and they’re even wearing gloves; it would be impossible to identify them from their appearance.

“what a shame,” the person says as they approach. their voice is rough and decidedly masculine, but still young sounding. “the two irrelevant queens. it would have been nice to at least see aragon or boleyn, or even...,” he rubs his hands together with a demented glee, “queen kitty-kat herself?”

parr has to physically hold jane back. “you have no right to call her that!”

“calm down, sweetheart. i don’t want to hurt her.” his voice is light, jovial, even.

“you just want to do other vile things, huh?” parr snarls.

“not vile, never vile,” he says, with the air of someone explaining a very simple concept to a child. “no, an angel like her deserves to be appreciated properly by someone who truly sees how special she is.”

“and that someone is you, is it?” jane practically spits, her normally soft voice now unrecognizable.

“that would be correct,” the man says calmly. “we have a spiritual bond, you see. she might not know it yet, not with you poisoning her mind, but she will see the light one day.”

“you rotten, disgusting little cockroach!” jane yells, lunging towards him. parr grabs her arms and holds her back.

he tisks. “violent, are we? wouldn’t want sweet little kat caught up in all this anger, now would we...,” he pauses momentarily. “‘mum?’”

“don’t you dare,” jane hisses, almost managing to pull out of parr’s grip. “don’t you dare-”

“it’s actually quite cute,” he interrupts, and although they can’t see his face they can almost hear the smirk behind his words. “all this mother and daughter talk, i mean. as if you would ever be good enough for someone so beautiful and perfect, someone like kitty-kat.” his voice reaches an almost dreamlike tone. “tell me, is she just as perfect up close?”

“you don’t get to know anything about her!” jane hisses. “nothing! you deserve to rot in jail for what you’ve done.”

he feigns an offended gasp. “such hostility from such a kind woman. i hope you aren’t like this with kitty-kat. what’s that thing you always say to her?” his voice lowers to a soft whisper, so very like the one jane uses every time she says the words he then repeats. “mum loves you, kitty-kat. in this life or any other.”

jane freezes, completely still, and parr lets go of her arms in concern.

“how- how could you possibly know that?” jane says, voice faint.

“what kind of person would i be if i didn’t know everything there is to know about my kitty-kat?” he says, in a tone that sends a shiver down both of their spines.

“she’s not yours,” jane spits.

“not yet,” he shrugs. “but she will be, you mark my words.”

without parr holding her back, jane flies at the man, an uncontrollable rage overtaking her. she draws back her fist but he grabs her wrist, seemingly unfazed by her attack.

“hm, i think you’re going to have to break your promise,” he hums. his grip tightens on jane’s wrist enough for her to let out a quiet whimper of pain, and parr, who had been approaching with her hand reaching for the pepper spray, freezes, not wanting to make him hurt jane any more. “looks like mummy can’t protect kitty-kat after all.”

he pauses, and a malice fills his voice. the imaginary smirk fades, replaced by what could be thought of as a snarl. “i will be back, and kitty-kat will be mine. just you wait.”

he harshly releases jane’s wrist and she stumbles back. he turns to leave.

“you horrid bastard, you will never, ever touch her!” jane half-yells.

there’s a moment when everything is absolutely still. then he whirls on his heel, his hand rising and colliding with jane’s cheek, sending her down against the asphalt. he leans over her threatening.

“i’d like to see you try and stop me,” he growls. “stay out of my way, or i will kill you, jane seymour.”

then he runs off into the night.

———————————————————————————————————–

tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13@tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians@thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @anaamess@beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears@theartoflazy @justqueentwo @brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon @lafemmestars@beautifulashes17@jarneiarichardnxel@idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @sixcago@mixer1323@boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance@boleynthebunny@krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate @bellacardoza16 @bluify

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine parr #anne boleyn #anne of cleves #catherine of aragon #julie and jess write #terrors don't prey on innocent victims #PLEASE read the warnings

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hysteriamodes · 4 years

Text

After watching “Gone Girl”.

So, uh, I have an unpopular opinion. I’m no expert on criminal investigations, I listen to a bunch of true crime podcasts, one that has a co-host, a retired detective, Paul Holes. I’m also a survivor of CSA, so I know how it goes down once you file a case to police and talked to a detective.

I can’t really say I like this movie completely -- don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, but... This is not how it works, lol.

It’s hard to really take a story seriously, knowing in real life that a criminal investigation into a disappearance would involve:

- Not just interviewing the spouse/significant other, interviewing those who have been previously romantically involved with someone. - Someone would have talked to Desi - Someone would have also looked into the stalking claims against Desi and if he was supposedly doing it electronically, there would have been a paper trail. Restraining orders are really hard to get. - If you buy a car and have to drive it, you need legitimate identification, have the title singed over, and register the car in your name, so the “getaway car” just seems so unfeasible to me. You can’t drive without plates, you’d get pulled over and sellers will take the plates from you. - Also, if you look on Craig’s List, it’s on your internet history. - They also would have had search warrants for electronic devices, including computers, and would have gone through that internet history. - You can pay cash for short-term rentals or hotels, but they still require ID. - Burner phones can be traced - “No body, no crime” -- the case built against Nick is completely circumstantial. Any rational prosecutor would have tossed it out and demanded more evidence, especially if no one’s double-checking for more suspects. The amount of blood they found at the crime scene is indicative of serious injury. Blunt-force injury like that as Amy claimed what happened would leave visible bruises, even for weeks, and would also have fractures. This lady rolls up (literally) to her husband just covered in blood and has no sign of that other than sexual intercourse. - CSI would have probed the convenient box cutter under the pillow, while she was supposedly tied up. I mean, seriously, what the hell? - Any investigator would be dubious of Amy’s responses during that interview. According to her, she was kidnapped and held for weeks, supposedly injured, and is so unusually cool. - In the same vein, you would have a victim’s advocate to check in on you and they too would fin that unusual. - They would bother to check Nick’s alibis, whereabouts, and where he was, so therefore, the credit card debt would look extremely dubious. Transaction IDs wouldn’t line up if Nick was out of the house, doing his thing, and Amy is buying stuff with his credit cards while he’s at work. Just saying. - Any smart investigator would have looked at the security footage of Desi and Amy calmly strolling up through the lake house, not of her being dragged in or at least sedated. Anyone sharp enough would have noticed that. - Desi’s phone would also have been traceable, so they would find out where he went, the casino, and there would have been security footage of Amy and Desi meeting. - Who’s to say that the people that robbed Amy didn’t notice. That woman saw through her shitty disguise and said nothing. There was a reward posted for finding Amy; that woman also could have called into the tip line and report her stay at this hotel or whatever. - The “clues”. A sensible person would have found them oh, so, convenient. - The “best friend” would have been interviewed, they would also disclose how long their friendship has been. - The hormone that comes up during pregnancy, that’s been diluted in water, wouldn’t be so potent enough to test... I’m still wondering what Amy’s motives were, she didn’t show Nick. She only showed her “friend” and it’s still not clear to me if the investigators checked into this.

I guess because I’m on the aro-ace spectrum, I probably don’t appreciate what this movie says about relationships and their roles and perceptions, but my thoughts were that Amy is clearly a sociopath, she has a troubled history, and that would have came up during investigations. Not to mention, Amy is just too Perfect, to the point she supposedly outwits the FBI. These are the same folks that work in more notorious disappearances, murders, and profiling outside of a self-absorbed couple. It just reminds me that law enforcement doesn’t take women criminals a seriously compared to men. Women are just as capable of absolute sociopathy as men, though there aren’t as many sociopathic women. Women that commit murder, schemes, and behave like this operate on a completely level compared to men.

The bottom line is, women that are criminals are underestimated and that’s what I saw in this movie. Sure, Nick is an absolute asshole, but he at least was knocked down a peg to see his own faults, even going as far as saying he won’t end the marriage for the sake of his unborn child (and... don’t get me started how Amy just conveniently came up with Nick’s sperm sample, after she said to him she didn’t want kids) upon discovering he’s going to be a father.

Amy could have ended this marriage in a divorce and bled him dry of his money. She could have ceased that bar, sold it, even take his sister to court because she was a co-owner, too. And given the “Amazing Amy” books, Nick still would have been publicly humiliated and even more humiliation would have came to him. A teacher, a well-known writer, having an affair with his students? I mean, come on. His friends would dump his ass, too.

Instead, Amy over-reacts, concocts this supposed disappearance and fabricated murder, in the 21st century, where even in the mid 2010s, you are completely traceable. Amy could have disposed of evidence all she wants, but the fact remains, people are nosy as fuck and would have noticed any of this shit. Amy, realistically, wouldn’t get away with this forever; she’d be sent to prison for life.

Amy isn’t like Thomason or Dani, she is a selfish, manipulative, and petty person. Thomason and Dani were true victims of circumstance and were so horribly traumatized, so caught up in hysteria and apathy subjected to them by men. Amy isn’t a victim; she had every chance to walk out of this, take ownership. If I was around a guy like Nick? I would have left him a long time ago. And I know that this whole movie is based on perception, but someone who’s so clearly narcissistic and so devoid of personality that she molds herself into the ideal “cool girl” would wise up and find another way, but no.

Yes, there is an argument that “women are crazy here”, but I just... I can’t.

I found myself more frustrated with this movie, so riddled with continuity errors and that it’s so unrealistic, with a narrator that may or may not be lying to the audience, who is also Completely Prefect and Untouchable that she’s practically a Mary Sue.

I’m also mad because there is a perception that women can make fake rape allegations and are already portrayed as conniving and scheming, and I feel like this movie just completely fed into these stereotypes. I will concede that it was likely doing that on purpose, but still, it’s not helping! Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, everyone was really cool in it, and I’m sure the book is very different, but holy shit, this is like a bad episode of Law & Order: SVU.

#eeeeehhhhh #gone girl #murderino #this is not how it works #anyway i love SVU #this wold be olivia's worst nightmare lmao

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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How do you feel about full length beards? I’m not into a lot of facial hair. I like some scruff, but that’s it. Have you ever been to a circus? Yeah, once. I was naive and didn’t know about the abuse that went on at the time. Do you know anyone who’s gone to a Fat Camp? No. Do you use Facebook IM everyday? No. I don’t even remember the last time I used it. How many surveys have you done already today? This is my first.

What’s the WORST show on Adult Swim? I don’t care for the Adult Swim shows. Family Guy and American Dad is okay, but after that it gets too stupid and weird for me. Sorry. Like once I saw this show, Mr. Pickles, and uh... wtf. The episode I saw was very disturbing. I don’t get the appeal of Rick and Morty at all. And why the hell is Mike Tyson Mysteries a thing? That’s just to name a few. I see previews of other shows and I just... wow. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? No. Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? Not maliciously or because they thought it was horrible and wanted to embarrass me, but yeah. My mom has posted photos where she didn’t see anything wrong and she thinks I looked fine, but I was like EW NO take that down it’s hideous. I reallyyyy don’t like photos of me taken by someone else. I have to take my own photos if I’m going to take one at all because I know the angles and lighting and can add a filter. Plus, I can take a ton before finally settling on one. If someone else takes the photo and they want to post it, I have to approve. Which grade in school was the most fun for you? I enjoyed elementary and middle school. High school had its ups and downs, but there were parts I liked. I liked the last 2 years the best. Which would you rather have, a new puppy or kitten? I wouldn’t want another pet right now to be honest. We have our doggo and one suits our family best right now. Does drama seem to follow you everywhere you go? No, thankfully. I have other issues I struggle with, but not drama. Do you ever just want to go away to a new place where no one knows you? I don’t live in a small town where everyone knows everyone and I was never Miss Popularity, so apart from family and a few other people, not a lot of people know me. However, I do want move away to a new place. My family and I have wanted to for a long time, we just haven’t been able to. A change of environment and scenery would be really nice. You’re ordering a pizza, you can have any kind of toppings, what are they? I’m a simple gal, I just like white sauce, feta and ricotta cheese, garlic, spinach, and crumbled meatballs with pesto drizzled on top. Do you hit ‘quiet’ or ‘ignore’ on your cell? Which one usually? Nah. If my phone rings and I don’t want to answer it, I just let it ring. Do you ever regret giving your number to people? I have before with some people. Have you ever been told that you’re afraid of your own shadow? Haha yeah. Have you ever tried Gouda cheese? Nope. Does/did your high school have pop machines? No. They decided to remove them the year I entered high school, which I was mad about. Do you use a public computer, or do you have your own? I have my own laptop. Do you ever find it odd how you type LOL when you’re not really laughing? >> No, because I understand that its function has moved far beyond representing actual laughing-out-loud. <<< Yeah. I remember discussing that in a class once. Have you ever gambled? A couple times. Not my thing. Although, what really made my experience unenjoyable wasn’t so much the gambling, it was that the casinos I’ve been to allow smoking and I don’t do well with cigarette smoke. At all. It gives me a killer headache, makes my heart rate go up, and makes me feel dizzy and sick. It’s awful. The smell in the casinos was too overbearing for me, so I spent very little time inside. Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery? No. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? I really don’t want to work retail. And that’s not shade toward retail workers AT ALL. I salute you, honestly. You deal with a lot of shit. What’s the shortest you would ever cut your hair? I had a “bob” for a few years. Do you listen to any deathcore? No. Do you subscribe to any teen magazines? Which ones? No. I’m also 30 years old. Do you know someone who never smiles? Never? No. Has anyone ever made you feel uncomfortable at work? I’ve never had a job. Do you still watch South Park? I never did. I mean, I’ve seen bits here and there before because my brother used to watch it, but I was never into it myself. Tell me one movie you’ve seen recently that sucked: My mom, brother, and I recently watched this movie on Netflix called, The Platform. It had potential and was interesting at first, but the ending was just... no. It seemed abrupt and I was just really confused. Have you ever carved something into a dinner booth somewhere? No. When’s the last time you were carded at a bar? When I last went to the bar, which was almost 10 years ago. Do you smoke little cigars? Have you ever tried them? Nooo. You’re babysitting, what do you expect per hour for pay? Pfft, no I’m not babysitting. What’s the last thing you returned at a store? I very rarely return things so I have no idea. It’s been a long time. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? I don’t even recall the last time I petted a cat. Do you still look at clouds and make shapes of them? I haven’t in a long time. If you had to dye your hair for one year, what color would you pick? I already do, I dye it red. Who’s got your heart? Me. What’s your television addiction? I have several shows that I’m into. Have you ever stringed green beans before? No. What do you do to make yourself more relaxed when you’re nervous? It’s hard to calm myself when I’m anxious, but I try to distract by talking to someone, listening to ASMR, watching TV or something on YouTube, or reading. Do you cook? If so, what’s the last thing you made? The only thing I cook is ramen. Oh wait actually I made a grilled cheese sandwich the other day. ha. Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? Yeah, a few things. How do you usually spend your Saturdays? I spend all my days and nights the same, really. Do you make your own jewelry or clothing? Last year I briefly got into making beaded bracelets. I made a few. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? I do the same things everyday whether I’m bored or not: spend time on my social medias, watch YouTube, read, watch TV, scroll through Tumblr, do surveys, just lie there.... ha. Somedays just feel like they’re dragging and going by extra slow and the things I listed above that I like doing just don’t cut it so I just lie there mindlessly watching TV or go to sleep. Do you use drawing to describe what you’re feeling? No. Do you like the smell of new school supplies? As a kid I did. Like getting a new box of crayons. Do you give everything you do 100%? No. I certainly haven’t with life... Do you shop at any independent music stores? No. I don’t shop at any music stores. How do you feel about mainstream music? I like a lot of it.

What song lyrics describe your mood at the moment? *shrug* Do you have healthy eating habits? No. My eating habits are messed up. I have issues with appetite and other issues.

If you could transform into any kind of animal, what animal would you be? A dog. Are you superstitious? If so, what are you superstitious about? I do the knock on wood thing, but it’s just out of habit, really. If you could travel anywhere in the world where would it be? There’s so many places I’d like to visit. What food disgusts you the most? I don’t do seafood at all. What is your favorite thing to cook? Ramen. One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? I wouldn’t want to get lost anywhere in the dark. :O Are you claustrophobic? Yes. What is your worst flaw? Oh where to start. One thing that always creeps you out? ALL bugs. What is your biggest fear? Losing loved ones, death, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life and just wasting away... If you could be reincarnated, would you come back as another human or an animal? If an animal, what kind? I don’t believe in reincarnation. Ideal way you’d like to die? Obviously painlessly, but jeez. If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? I like living with my family. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? Uh, a lot of things. Your favorite kind of dog? I love doggos, but I definitely have a special thing for Labs and German Shepherds. Do you have any scars? If so, how many? I have a lot of scars. I’m not going to count them. What is your favorite scary movie to watch in the dark? I don’t watch them in the dark. Unless I’m at the theater, obviously. I love scary movies, though. Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? Cremated. What is your favorite thing to drink? Alcoholic and non alcoholic? Coffee and Starbucks Doubleshot energy drinks. That’s also coffee, but you know what I mean. I don’t have a favorite alcoholic drink, I don’t drink. What is your favorite food around the holidays? I love either ham or turkey depending on the holiday and mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, and rolls. Easiest way to scare you? I’m such a jumpy, easily scarable (it’s a word, shh) person so you could really just say hi and I’ll jump. haha. Like my back faces my bedroom door and if I don’t hear anyone coming in or they just poke their head in to say something I’ll jump. lmao. Tell me one of your biggest secrets? Nah. What was your last nightmare about? It’s been awhile since I’ve had one, thankfully.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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opinuun · 5 years

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Do you guys remember when this was a studio Ghibli blog and I’d post gifs? 2017 was a good year lol. Anyway. As a child, I never knew I’d thirst for a 2-D otome man, but sadly I’ve stopped. Yes, after two years of obsession, it’s time I retire from the fandom. I’m keeping the blog though. Ran this shit for years, ain’t gonna give up now that my horny-meter has plummeted to an all time record low. Did you guys know blogs don’t have a character limit??

Oh god. I didn’t know this blog would suddenly receive so much attention. Please, I am begging you to not scroll down. It’s endless MysticMessenger posts from two years ago.

Hey, I'm once again: back, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this blog. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named [email protected] Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, [email protected] Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote.

Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye..

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