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anika-ann · 4 years

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Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.1

Of Muffins, Cheeky Vigilantes and Sad Interns

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 3130

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.

You stared at the two unconscious men at his feet, still perfectly shocked but relieved, pressing your handbag to your chest.

You were slowly leaving your place by the wall – more like in the wall, because you had been trying to merge with it even since the two men had backed you into it, pulling out their knives and demanding your handbag. That had been before this guy had appeared and put them in a line – and you were pretty sure he put some of their bones out of their natural line, but you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“You… thank you. How— you… saved my life,” you stuttered, watching the man in a black mask wince as if he only now realized you were there.

“You’re welcome,” he said, voice pleasantly low-pitched, looking in your direction. “Though I’m not sure it would go that far if you have just given him your handbag.”

“Well, I couldn’t do that,” you retorted, automatically drawing the item closer to your chest.

He took two cautious steps to you, easing his fighting stance. “I know it would be a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy, but for future reference, it would be much better if you just gave it up.”

“I couldn’t. There’s a… there’s a secret recipe.”

“… a recipe. You… couldn’t have let go of your handbag because of a recipe. You’re joking,” he stated, and the little of his face you could see, free of the fabric of his mask, seemed shocked. And maybe a little amused. How would you know, you could only see his jaw. And lips – their corners were quirked inconspicuously, so yeah, definitely amused.

Well, at least you made him smile since he had saved you and all.

“It’s important! There’s this guy in my work and— never mind. Forget I said anything. I mean… beside the thank you. Wow, babbling is not my usual reaction to stress.”

“Well, if that makes you feel better I don’t usually chat with people I help out,” he said with a shrug, making you raise your eyebrows.

“So why do you now?” Not that I complain.

He shrugged again, coming a little closer again. “Nowhere to be. And you seem fun.”

Huh. Who would think a guy in a mask, lurking in a dark, would be such a nice person? He seemed genuine. You had no idea where he picked up the idea of you being fun, but you guessed he didn’t meet women protecting their handbags for recipes of all thing every night. Did he do that every night? Was that a thing?

You shook off the thoughts. “…thanks, I guess?”

“So, guy at work?” He smiled suggestively, clearly teasing you. You just gaped.

“Oh my god, I’m not talking about that with… with a masked guy! And… and it’s not like that,” you protested, questioning your own claim. Maybe?

“Really? So why that blush?”

You quickly checked you cheeks with your hand. “I don’t-“ You never blushed. You doubted you were now and your cheeks felt just normal-- that little shit. “You know, for a guy who lurks in a dark, you are sure pretty cocky.”

And for a near assault victim, I am pretty chatty and easy-going.

“People also say I’m a good listener,” he offered nonchalantly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You were not doing this, right? You wouldn’t just load that on a complete stranger? Then again, he was a complete stranger, so he couldn’t tell anyone who knew you. Mmm...

“…it’s not like that. I mean, yeah, he’s… handsome, but-- he’s… I barely know him, but he’s just really nice, you know? Like…” You licked your lips, finally letting the handbag rest on its usual place. “The kind of guy who would help you to pick up your stuff, even if he wasn’t be the one who ran into you. And the other day, I saw his telling a joke to someone who seemed down, but usually is a bitch to him. He’s the guy who would hold the elevator for you. Just… really nice. And lately… he seemed down himself. Not even his friend can cheer him up. So… yeah.”

“So… you decided to… cook something for him. For this… nice guy,” he summed up your monologue, looking a bit confused.

“Yeah. My friend met me at the bar and gave up her secret recipe for the best muffins in the world. I already bought the ingredients, guessing, but I didn’t pick up on the vanilla beans.”¨

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m saving his life,” you said, giving him a significant look.

Why were you smiling? You just almost got mugged! And you were chatting with a man who just broke someone’s bones! To be fair, he was really likeable. Had called you fun and nice. Not something you were used to.

“He could be depressed. So maybe you are.”

You couldn’t but smile wider. “Maybe. Though he probably gets bagels every morning… never mind. …And you know what, you are a good listener. But I should go. Got work to do.”

“Sure. Good luck with your… baking,” he wished you, grinning like a goddamn child. Was it really so amusing?

“If I have some spares, I’ll leave them on the rooftop for you,” you decided, freezing after you realized what you said. “A random rooftop! I wouldn’t want a masked guy to know where I live.”

He laughed. He honest to god laughed. “Of course. Go, I’ll call the police to pick those guys up.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You barely managed to sneak into the interns’ office – office? More like a closet – and make it out before they appeared behind a corner. These two guys started there recently, but you instantly liked them. The one with blond hair was smiling most of the time, a cheery smile that made you smile back even when you were busy and nearly harassed by your boss a minute before; the other one, the dark-haired one, had a gentler smile, a warming one – and you hadn’t seen much of it lately. If you were honest, you thought his idealism was being crushed; he was incredibly nice and polite to everyone as far as you saw him interact with people and you were sure that a firm like Landman and Zack wasn’t a place for his fragile soul-- and now you were just projecting.

The pair fell into their closet office and you released the breath you were holding. You resisted the urge to listen in with your ear at the door. It turned out, you didn’t have to; most of the offices were empty due to the lunch break and the blond man – okay, yeah, you heard him introduce himself as Foggy, which was ridiculous, but kinda cute – was very loud.

“Matt, a muffin.”

You bit your lip, a little nervous about not hearing Matt’s reaction.

“Matt, I swear to God, there is a muffin on your table. With a note on a toothpick in it and it says— oh. That’s just mean. Why would someone give a muffin on your desk only to tempt you?” Foggy sounded bewildered and a little hurt on the behalf of his friend.

You giggled into your palm. You had left a written note saying: ‘Don’t you dare to touch it, you, who are reading this.’

The trick was in leaving one more note – in braille. ‘Feel better and be happy. The offices are too dark without your smile. Enjoy.’

Which was an idiotic lie, because the offices were all glass and steel, having too much light most of the time, but the message was clear, you hoped. Not to mention Matt wouldn’t be able to tell. Because he was… well, blind. Which meant he couldn’t read the note not directed at him, but could read his own.

You sneaked from your office, coming a little closer, listening in.

“Dude, your face. Why do I have the feeling the braille version says something different?”

You smiled for yourself, hoping to cause at least a little rise of Matt’s lips while he was reading his personal note (it was a bitch to use the braille printer without no one noticing, okay, you were kinda proud of yourself). His response was quieter, but you pricked your ears and heard it.

“Because it does.”

Later, you were trying hard not to stare too blatantly when they passed your office, but you caught a glimpse anyway. Matt was smiling. Brightly.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“This is so stupid, I’m crazy, I’m the craziest person to ever walk this Earth…” you were muttering as you laid a plate with two muffins in the middle of the rooftop. “If anyone’s gonna eat it, it’s gonna be Frank from 2B when coming to have a smoke. Or pigeons…”

“Did the nice guy liked his muffin?” sounded a voice from behind you and you jumped ten feet above— well, not. You literally fell on your ass, yelping in shock, your hand trying to keep your heart inside your ribcage. “Hey, easy there.”

You spun slowly to the source of the pleasant male voice, only to find a man dressed in nothing but black. With a mask on, naturally.

“Not sure. Maybe I just helped him to have a heart attack sooner. But I can ask him if he’s looking for one and refer him to you,” you complained, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, easing your hand down.

Jesus.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He offered you a gloved hand to help you up. But it was a warm night and forgetting the fact your pants would be no doubt terribly dirty from the concrete, you were actually fine sitting there. You patted on the other side of the plate instead. He hesitated.

“For some reason I don’t believe you,” you exclaimed darkly. “I’m not sure you deserve these…”

“They’re really for me?”

A shy smile appeared on his lips – you really needed to stop focusing on people’s lips, it was creepy, but to be fair, this guy wasn’t offering many things to go on and staring at his body tightly wrapped in black probably wasn’t much better. He lowered himself elegantly, sitting down on the offered place.

“I figured that you might appreciate it and you’ll burn the calories easily. And since I baked six of these…”

“Thanks.” He tentatively took off his gloves, reaching for one of the muffins. He took a bite.

You blinked in surprise at his trust. “They could be poisoned.”

He froze. “You wouldn’t.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“No one who bakes a muffin just to cheer up a guy they barely know would try to poison me,” he reasoned, his confidence almost unshaken.

“I could have just made the story up. Or bake two batches, poison one of them and lay a trap.”

He frowned, taking another bite easily. “That sounds like an awfully lot of work, considering pigeons might have eaten this. Or Frank from 2B.”

“You— you heard that?” you asked, surprised.

“I have good ears. And taste buds. This is really good.”

“I’m glad. Maybe one day I can quit my soul-crushing job, steal all of my friend’s recipes and open a bakery. The Hell’s Bakery… in Hell’s Kitchen.”

He chuckled, the sound so light that it made you wonder how the hell this guy was a vigilante. Should he be like… dark and broody? I am batman, I’m the night?

“I would be a regular. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he finished the muffin and licked his thumb.

“He’s a lucky guy, you know. Having you to look out for him,” he offered casually.

“I told you, it’s not like that…” you repeated, though you were less and less convinced it was the truth. “…and he doesn’t know it was me.”

“You didn’t give it to him?” he sounded shocked. You thought he might have raised his eyebrows. “Just leaving it? Why?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want him to feel… obligated to be grateful or something. Plus, me noticing he’s smiling less than usual? It’s a little creepy, I imagine. It’s better if I stay anonymous.”

“Huh. You really weren’t trying to… get his attention, were you?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Was it really that strange? “Why? Not your type? Have eyes on someone else?”

“Not my type…” you repeated lowly. “I think he’s everybody’s type.” He tilted his head curiously. “I don’t.”

“But?”

“But nothing. He’s… he’s him. I bet he has someone. He has this whole…” you gestured vaguely with your hands as if it could mean something. It did. To you. “…charming, take-me-home aura.”

“Take-me-home aura?” he parroted, bewildered.

“It’s hard to-“ you stopped in the middle of the sentence, realizing the absurdity of the situation. Muffins. Late night. Dim lights. Boy problems. “Oh god, I’m having a slumber party with a vigilante on a rooftop. I really am crazy.”

“Do you want to braid hair?” he suggested with that boyish grin you remembered from yesterday. “I’m no good at painting nails, but I rock at braiding.”

You looked at him incredulously, watching him for what could be a minute. Then you burst out laughing.

“I believe you. But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’m very picky about who I let touch my hair.”

“Uh-huh Okay. What does take-me-home aura mean? Take home and..?”

“And snuggle him…” you hummed, thoughtful. “Or rip his clothes off, sometimes it’s hard to decide. Probably both in the right order.”

“Oh.”

You burst out laughing once more when seeing him so taken aback. Well, you thought he looked taken aback.

“Oh god, you look so spooked. I’m not gonna do that to you, or him. Have a muffin.”

He pouted, but relaxed and reached for his comfort food. “I’m not… spooked. It’s just… why don’t you?”

“Because I’m pretty sure dragging someone into my home and ripping their clothes off is a crime,” you emphasized, even though the irony was lost on this guy, since he was acting outside the law. Matt, on the other hand… was a lawyer.

“You could just ask him out.”

The smile froze on your lips. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, right. I forgot you don’t know me very well and you don’t know whom I’m talking about. He’s… like… waaaay out of my league. Professionally speaking – one day, I’m sure – and with his looks too.”

He nibbled his muffin, looking thoughtful. It was incredibly cute. “You said he was nice. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn you down.”

“A pity date. Yay for me.”

“…you don’t have very high opinion of yourself, do you?”

You shrugged. “I’m a realist.”

He set his muffin down, turning to you with his whole body. “I don’t have many references to your looks, since we’re meeting at night, but you seem like a great person and… I really don’t talk with people much. Not at all, if I can help it. But you’re easy to talk too. Even if it was a pity date, I’m sure he would have a good time. And maybe you would find out he’s just a guy and forget there are some… leagues or whatever,” he mimicked, sounding a little disgusted. He picked his muffin back, possibly to drown the bitterness of the word league.

Oh my god, how was this guy even real? There was no way he was not chatting with all victims of crime he saved.

“Thanks— what do I call you? Give me something. I don’t expect your real name, secret identities and all, but… something.”

“Huh. I don’t know. Uhm…”

“If you don’t come up with something, I will,” you threatened, your mind racing. He would either have a terrible name, compensating with a nickname, or a plain name no one would look twice at.

“Go for it,” he challenged, licking the remains of chocolate of his lips. You observed him for a minute, wondering.

“Mm. Alright. Thank you for your encouraging words… Clark.”

“Clark? Like… Clark Kent?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, grinning. “Hero. Secret identity. Ripped. Sweet. Yeah, you’re Clark… you’re not wearing glasses to work, are you? Are you trying to look awkward, or better yet invisible? Unnoticed? Are you a journalist?” you asked quickly to cover up the fact you blatantly told him he had hot body.

“I’m not a journalist,” he said slowly, looking a bit alarmed. Though he didn’t deny the rest.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop prying. But thanks. It’s… really sweet of you, but… I guess I’m too chicken to ask him out.”

The sentence lied heavily between you for few moments.

“…what if he asked you?”

You snorted. “Right. He doesn’t even know I exist, Clark. Doesn’t know my name.”

“Neither do I. And look at us, sitting on a rooftop, talking about boys.”

This time you laughed. “You just wriggled your eyebrows, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he played along mysteriously, before his smile softened. “Can I have your name?”

“Well, I guess there’s no point in denying you now know where I live, so a name wouldn’t add much. But you know what? I picked yours. Pick mine.”

“…okay. Nice to meet you… Lois.” He extended his hand towards you, making your breath hitch.

“Nice to meet you, Clark.” You shook his hand, swallowing the nervousness his choice left you in. The love interest? “Though I’m more of a Jimmy Olsen, don’t you think?” The friend.

He tensed, jerking to his feet, crouching, his head tilted. You almost had another heart attack at the sudden movement.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry. There’s… an assault a mugging in progress. But-“ he turned to you, his tense features softening a little, leaning into your space. “I chose the name on purpose.”

Then his freaking lips brushed your temple and he jogged away, jumping-- jumping off the roof. You flied to your feet as well, running after him, checking he wasn’t a bloody smudge on the pavement. He wasn’t. You saw only a shadow several rooftops over. You brought you hand to the place his lips touched your skin, still shocked.

What the actual hell?

You stood on the rooftop for a very long time, staring at the city lights, still trying to process that Clark had… pecked your temple. When you finally made it inside, you couldn’t fall asleep. After an hour of staring into the ceiling, you got up and… baked. Not wanting to bake the same stuff again, you improvised. You added cocoa powder, switched milk chocolate for dark and added some cherries you had bought the other day, hoping for an acceptable outcome.

When you had one of the muffins for breakfast, you came to conclusion it wasn’t half bad, packing one for lunch, counting on a zero lunch-break again. It turned out it was a good idea.

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Part 2

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I know there aren’t many Matt readers with me here, but someone might like it ;)

Thank you for reading :-*

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #matt murdock fanfiction #mcu #matt murdock fanfic #reader insert #matt murdock imagine #fluff #of muffins coffee and other miracles #anika ann

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chibinekochan · 4 years

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The brothers bake a cake for you

Mc: Yeah, this will be perfectly fine, just as I expected from them.

Lucifer: No, of course not, have you paid attention to any of us?

(I had nothing good to say lol) Time for fluff to the max.

Beelzebub

He found the recipe for your favorite cake

Beel is utterly tempted to eat the ingredients but he doesn't eat any of them.

This cake is for you only!

It smells great and looks great.

A fool is someone who thinks he can only eat.

He almost lost it several times.

Beel gets so hungry, it almost caused an earthquake.

This boy stands strong.

It's a battle of his will and guts.

He wins and he is really proud of himself.

As he should be.

Beel has the biggest smile when he gives you the cake.

You think it's the sweetest thing you have ever seen.

The cake is super tasty.

Not only did he surprise you but he doesn't even ask for a slice.

Beel is just really happy that you like it.

He still looks at you like a sad puppy so you share anyways.

Sharing is caring.

He is so happy, you both are.

Give him some headpats please.

He worked really hard to make you happy

Mammon

He tries so hard.

Super hard.

He fights against the hungry Beel and against his brothers who somehow try to sabotage him.

Mammon wants to make you happy.

Screw them all!

Has failed 69 times but did he give up?

NO! He does not!

The great Mammon doesn't know how to give up

Beel got the failed attempts and didn't complain.

Finally Mammon makes it.

He is so happy and proud.

Mammon can't wait and presents to you his accomplishment.

If course it wasn't a big deal and it didn't take 54 hours to get to this point.

Honestly just a cake he threw together, totally doesn't want to impress you.

You feel blessed and you can understand the Mammon way so you know the truth.

You are so happy to eat the cake.

It's not perfect, a bit overcooked, a bit too sweet, but darn it, it's the best cake you've ever had!

You smile so much and Mammon almost cries.

He is so happy that his hard work has paid off.

He doesn't even mind getting punished for destroying the kitchen.

It was worth it.

You feed him some cake when Lucifer isn't looking.

He has done a great job.

Lucifer

He BAKING???

No one would ever believe it.

This man in an apron? Unseen!

He's not just ordering a chef to do it for him? Unheard of!

Yet there he is in the kitchen.

Nobody will live to tell the tale .

He does worse than he expected.

Lucifer has never done this before.

He isn't even perfect.

Has at least 3 attempts before producing a good cake.

Lucifer will insist it only took one attempt, but we know.

He has an air of arrogance when he comes to give you his cake.

Lucifer doesn't just bake a cake.

He bakes THE CAKE, the only true cake in all of history.

Honestly the cake isn't perfect but you know he did his best and it's full of heart.

You feel so happy that he even did this for you you could just cry.

You better eat the whole cake while complimenting Lucifer the whole time.

He will aspect at least one cake in return.

It's the least after he worked for you.

He is very proud of himself.

You let him be since he honestly works hard for your sake.

Get on your knees and praise him.

Asmodeus

He doesn't like getting dirty like this.

Well at least he looks great in an apron.

Many selfies.

He looks at the cakes that look the best.

His cake will look the best if anything.

Asmo goes blind after seeing the calories.

It's for you so he will bear with it.

He makes a big show of presenting the cake.

It looks honestly great.

Like a very beautiful wedding cake.

It tastes fine but honestly it looks better than it tastes.

You offer Asmo a piece but he only has the smallest size you can cut.

He will casually try to give lots of it to other ppl.

Asmo is on a diet, he does not need one.

You smile and you even kiss him on the cheek.

This cake was a lot of effort but worth it.

You are so happy so it's all good.

Give him a hug.

Maybe feed him some cake, but not too much.

Satan

He bought a book just for this.

Satan has practiced baking cake just in case a situation like this would ever come.

He is very accurate with the measurements.

A perfectly planned cake.

Satan watches the cake in the oven.

He decorates it with huge accuracy.

Give him his own cake shop.

His cake looks great and he is proud of it.

Takes a lot of pictures.

Satan is so happy when he gives it to you.

You have never seen him smile this much before.

You are so happy you kinda jump up and down a bit.

He teases you a tiny bit while curtin the cake.

It hurts to eat this beautiful cake but it tastes so good that you have to.

Satan is super happy that you enjoy it so much.

Seeing you this happy fills his heart with joy.

He already has plans for more cake.

Maybe other meals.

Can't just have you living of cake after all.

You should just cook with him tbh.

He would feel really blessed if you return the favor.

Also feed him and tell him how great he is.

Leviathan

He has found the recipe in an anime.

It's not to make you happy or anything.

He has done this before, but don't judge him!

It's only because of anime and games not because he can express his creativity in this way.

That's not it at all!

This is also not because he likes you or anything!

Wait, nobody is here to hear him right now.

It's a very cute cake.

He is happy but also worries too much.

It's like his life suddenly depends on cake.

He feels so stupid.

Kinda second guesses himself.

Almost didn't give you the cake.

Your Levidar tingeled and you came out anyways.

You look at him and the cake and you just smile.

The cake looks so great you are happy just to see it.

You wonder if he did it to enter some competition.

This makes Levi really happy to hear.

Actually he made it just for you.

You are extremely happy.

Seeing you smile like this, at his creation sends Levi over the moon.

He is a very blessed Boi.

When you cut the cake it hurts him just a little bit but then when you enjoy it, it was all worth it.

100/10 will do it again.

Pet his head, feed him, compliment him until he is a blushing mess and then do it a bit longer.

Give him validation.

Belphegor

How did this even happen to him?

Being here baking for his human?

Well whatever…

You better be happy about this.

You better jump with joy and give him a big hug.

That sounds very good to him.

He decided on a simple recipe.

Not because he is lazy, but Belphie just wants to make sure it tastes good.

He knows his way around the kitchen.

The cake comes out very nicely.

Nothing fancy but good looking.

Belphie is very proud of it.

He is a tiny bit nervous when he gives it to you.

You are really happy about it.

You smile super bright and you want to eat it right away.

Belphie calls you a glutton, while smiling like a fool.

You are feeding him some cake, Belphie is pleased.

He worked hard and it paid off.

Don't forget his hug!

He will do it again but only if he really wants to or if you make puppy eyes at him.

Bake him something too.

Feed him lots of cake, maybe let him tease you just a little.

Tell him that you are glad he is here.

Check my Obey me! Masterlist for more content

#obey me #swd obey me #obey me!#shall we date obey me #obey me headcanon

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stuckhereonearth · 3 years

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will be ruminating on very decidedly unhealthy ideas about body image, weight loss, disordered eating, etc. below the read more.

whenever I start choking on shame for whatever reason, or whenever I get overwhelmed with everything around me, I return to the now-defunct thinspo and fitspo blogs I used to frequent almost obsessively from ~2010-2015 or so, and fitspo was just thinspo with extra disclaimers about why it wasn’t bad like thinspo.

in that period, I would comb through endless infographics about caloric contents, and fitness challenges, and before-and-after shots to show that you can do it too, you sad lonely fat girl, and gif sets of strong beautiful adult athletes and personal trainers doing so-called beginners’ workouts that I was never able to accomplish. I voraciously consumed the gospel of simple rules like fats bad, white rice bad brown rice good, bread pasta carbs bad, roasted broccoli baked chicken breast with a little salt and pepper on a bed of brown rice as the ultimate healthy meal, chew gum or work out to curb cravings (which was coincidentally a popular piece of advice on “pro-ana” blogs and websites I would sometimes come across, though I want to emphasize that I never had a full-blown, serious eating disorder - just disordered eating problems, which aren’t to be minimized by any means), couch to 5k couch to 5k couch to 5k, drink chocolate milk after runs to help your muscles recover but also lay off the dairy fatass, if you want chips eat carrots with hummus but only a small amount of hummus because it’s 70 to 90 calories per two tablespoon serving and if you want candy or chocolate or desserts then eat fruit dried fruit fresh fruit fruit and PLAIN GREEK yogurt with a little honey if you REALLY need additional sweetness, bananas as the core of every healthy diet and recipe, replace sour cream and heavy whipping cream with plain greek yogurt replace ranch and other dipping sauces with lightly seasoned plain greek yogurt thinned out with water or low fat milk, three ingredient protein pancake three ingredient protein pancake three ingredient protein pancake!!! (it’s just scrambled banana eggs with cinnamon and it’s disgusting), banana nice cream if you want a treat :-), 70 ish calories in an egg 100 ish calories in that one brand and size of tortillas you like but why are you eating tortillas when you could be be doing lettuce wraps instead coffee as basically calorie-free and then if you’re light with the NONDAIRY LOWFAT or else CREAMER then it’s almost guilt free!!

and on and on and on forever and ever.

that shit, which I intentionally and willingly sought out and consumed, damaged me so badly for years before a therapist I saw briefly in college pointed out that actually, I did have eating problems and actually, I should see a campus nutritionist because it was not normal to not eat for a day and a half and then eat as much as possible in one sitting so that it caused immense amounts of pain and emotional distress and the pain of eating too much and the pain of not eating at all being used as forms of self harm is supremely concerning actually and actually being ashamed to order food and too anxious to order food and too uncomfortable to purchase food on a daily basis when you’re a college student using a meal plan that necessitates those things is a huge worry and really, you deserve better and your body and mind need better to keep running and no you don’t have a full blown eating disorder and no you’re not in need of hospitalization and yes it’s good that no matter how many times you’ve tried you can’t make your body purge after you binge it’s concerning that you try but you aren’t a failure for being unable to purge.

I can barely understand what I was trying to write at first lmao but basically I still look at my old sources of obsession, blogs that haven’t updated since 2013 or so, blogs with ultra damaging and unhealthy rhetoric and because these other teens were victims of the neverending machine of diet diet lose weight diet that I was and still am. I saved probably over a hundred graphics from one of these blogs when I got my first laptop in 2013 and they’re still on my computer now, four laptops and eight years later, all saved in a word document titled “this is why” that I still refuse to delete and that I look at a couple times a year because I get so sick of myself, my weight gain, even when I was 145 pounds and objectively thin for my body type for the first time in my life and gained back five pounds going into college, and end up trying to trigger a period of this awful unhealthiness where I fixate obsess ruminate on and on over numbers exercise to the point of hurting myself (whether I get to that point or not) unsatisfying so-called healthy meal substitutions and truly try and brute-force myself into the same awful mindsets and behaviors that used to rule over me years ago. it’s like unhealthy and damaging and self injurious behavior is the only way I know.

#cw body image #cw disordered eating #cw eating disorders #idk i'm just guessing on these tags. i never had an ED but they're mentioned #and honestly this shit - which should admittedly be a private journal entry lmao - is just trigger city #i'm doing pretty all right actually because I chose to write this out after about ten minutes on one of those old blogs #seeing all the shit I soaked in back in the day and still choose to hold on to #and basically remind myself that all of that is miserable and HARD and isolating #so now i'm gonna go to the fucking grocery store and use my stupid coupons and get shitty drive thru coffee on the way home #and probably a pastry from the co op because i did a difficult yoga practice last night and i'm hoping to run tonight and i deserve #whatever foods are healthy in moderation and okay for me because i'm alive and have a body and don't need to punish #myself to live in this body no matter how fat and big it may be and i am allowed to exist like this without caveats #and sure i'll spiral because i'm pendulum swinging from spending an hour to write about disordered eating and steeping in those seemingly #inescapable thoughts and feels straight over to 'i can exist in my fat body i am allowed to do that and i can eat foods that aren't healthy'#but i'll weather it however i can

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

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Chemical Reaction (19/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~7400 words, teen

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AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

James couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked hard, thinking his exhaustion had caught up with him. No, the blonde woman on his porch had to be the night-shift nurse who lived across the street—she often liked to indulge in late-night baking on her nights off, and there were times she would come to James for an ingredient she was missing, or to give him a small sampling of her confectionery creations.

(He had the sudden, jarring, embarrassing realization that she may have been flirting with him the whole time… Is that why she hasn’t come around in months?)

“Rose,” he said again when blinking stupidly for at least ten seconds didn’t transform Rose into anyone else.

“Hi,” she said quietly. She looked exhausted; there were prominent shadows beneath her eyes and her shoulders drooped like a heavy weight sat upon them.

Her gaze flicked over his shoulder, and her face fell. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company. I’ll just…” She thumbed behind herself to the dark road. How did she get here? “Sorry.”

Before he could protest, Jack clapped James on the shoulder and announced, “No, no. I was getting ready to head out. Come on, get in out of the cold.”

Jack pressed a smacking kiss to James’s cheek, then muttered, “Talk to her,” into his ear. He then stepped forward and gave Rose a loose hug and kiss on the cheek before he walked to his vehicle that was parked on the side of the street.

They turned to watch Jack start his car and drive off into the night. James looked at Rose, then at the squarish plastic Tupperware container she held. She was absently flicking her thumb nail across the tab on the lid.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked, nodding to the container.

Rose chewed on her bottom lip and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Well. We’ve been playing a game all month, haven’t we? Time to celebrate.”

She popped the lid off the container and handed it to him. In it were half a dozen large, muffin-sized chocolate cupcakes, frosted in vanilla icing and decorated with pink and yellow star sprinkles. The words “Happy Birthday” were written in small, neat, glossy red letters across each cupcake. His stomach sank.

“It… it’s your birthday?” he croaked. Of course—of fucking course—today had been her birthday.

Rose nodded. “I… I didn’t want to let my entire birthday pass without spending some time with my favorite person.”

James nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Hope you had fun.”

Rose raised an incredulous eyebrow, and the penny dropped.

“Me?” he squeaked, the knot in his chest loosening.

“Yes you, you numpty. Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. Do you not love me anymore because we fought?”

James’s knees weakened at the ‘l’ word. He took a step towards her, the arm not holding the cupcakes extended. Her face softened and she stepped into his proffered embrace. Her body was warm and solid against him. Heat prickled behind his eyes as he wrapped his arms as tightly around her as he could without upending the Tupperware container.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry. I…”

“Can we not do this on the front porch?” she asked, voice muffled. “S’cold.”

James was loath to let go of her, but he had to agree the night was getting frigid, especially for him, with his bare feet and thin pajama bottoms and t-shirt. With a sigh, he gave her a final squeeze and dropped his arms from around her waist, then stepped back to usher her into his home.

She toed off her shoes by the front door, and he could already predict her questions when she angled her head towards the hallway. “Did you paint something?”

James scratched the back of his neck. “Er. Yeah. Started repainting my bedroom.”

A small, sad smile tugged at the side of Rose’s mouth. “Needed something to keep your mind busy?”

“Something like that,” he admitted.

A more genuine smile crossed her face as she gestured to the Tupperware container he was holding. “Y’know, stress baking would've been cheaper.”

James blinked, then gaped down at the cupcakes he was holding. The font of the words was perfect cursive, the spread of the icing uniform and even. He blurted, “You made these?”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” she drawled. “Yes, I made them. Well. Elsa helped. She came over to my flat this afternoon. Bit of a girl’s night. Had pizza and wine, then made cupcakes. She’s actually really good at decorating; she’s got this whole set of frosting tips to make fancy designs. She did the lettering.”

“They look lovely. Very professional,” he said. He jutted his head to his kitchen, motioning for her to follow. She did, her quiet, shuffling footsteps falling into rhythm with his.

Rather than go into the kitchen, Rose peeled off to the living room, where Merry and Pippin were lounging on the sofa together, half-asleep. James watched her squat down in front of the cats and give them a bit of love before she returned to him.

“Should Jack have driven himself home?”

James glanced at Rose and saw her pointing to the kitchen table, where the mostly-empty bottle of wine sat. It had a few mouthfuls left.

“It was only half-full when we started,” James answered, picking up the bottle and hurriedly drinking the last of the wine. “This was from last weekend, when you and I… Anyway, he had one glass. I drank most of it. He should be fine.”

“Tell him to let us know when he gets home safely,” Rose said.

James snapped off a lazy salute then sent Jack a text, passing along Rose’s request. He set the Tupperware container of cupcakes on the counter before grabbing two clean bowls from the dishwasher he hadn’t bothered to empty.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” Rose said with a grimace. “I already had one after they came out of the oven. Plus pizza. M’gonna puff up like a balloon.”

She pinched her waist, and James frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flamed pink and she dropped her hand limply to her side.

“I had a huge, greasy burger and chips for dinner. D’you think I’m gonna puff up like a balloon?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, no. But you’re…” She let her sentence dangle as she waved her hand vaguely up and down his body.

“And you’re…” He mirrored her gesture. “Rose, I find you absolutely beautiful, and you losing or gaining weight won’t change my opinion. Not that my opinion should matter. If you don’t want a cupcake, or if you’re not hungry, that’s fine. And again, not that you need my approval.”

Rose sighed and twisted her hands in front of herself before she turned away from him and rooted in his freezer for ice cream he always made sure to have on hand.

“I had a minor eating disorder as a teen,” Rose said quietly, pulling out the ice cream and shutting the freezer. “Nothing too serious. I was obsessed with my weight, and was really careful with what I ate. I counted and logged calories. I grew out of it when I realized watching what I ate made me feel even worse about myself. Of course I still tried to eat healthy and to eat reasonably-sized portions, but I stopped being so strict with it. I obviously started putting on some weight, nothing too drastic, but Jimmy would often tease me and tell me to lay off the chips or whatever, because rock stars don’t date chubby girls.”

James’s ears were ringing with rage and heartbreak, and he was furious with himself for everything he had accused Rose of last night regarding Jimmy.

“Rose, I…”

“As I said, I’m fine now and I don’t really care about my weight or body image as much,” Rose interrupted, setting the ice cream on the counter in front of him. “But sometimes those thoughts pop up without me realizing it. Like they did just now.”

Unsure of how to respond, James instead took a cupcake out of the Tupperware container, unwrapped the paper from the bottom, and set it into the bowl. “Did I… did I say something wrong?”

“No. Quite the opposite, actually. You told me your opinion, but didn’t shove it in my face or try to force me to believe you. And like I said, I don’t often realize when I’m having these thoughts.”

He nodded and forced his lips into some semblance of a smile that he hoped looked supportive. He then returned his gaze to the bowl and the ice cream she’d retrieved.

“D’you want to share this with me?” he asked, gesturing to the bowl with a spoon.

Rose nodded. He scooped several large dollops of vanilla ice cream into the bowl then he went to his junk drawer. It overflowed with a random assortment of objects: scissors, several different types of batteries, notepads, pens, pencils, a ruler, a screwdriver, tape, glue, Band-Aids, rubber bands, paper clips, binder clips, thumbtacks, toothpicks, a ball of twine, a condom, a tampon, and so many other things James didn't remember throwing into the drawer.

He dug through the mishmash of objects until he found a small, half-empty box of birthday candles and a matchbook. He took out four candles and brought them and the matches over to where Rose stood at the counter.

“I would try to shove twenty-two of them into the cupcake, but firstly I don’t have twenty-two candles, and secondly, I’m pretty sure I would end up pulverizing the poor cupcake into a pile of crumbs. So use your imagination; two and two equates to twenty-two.”

He shoved two of the candles side by side into the left side of the cupcake, right before the H and B in “Happy Birthday”. The other two, he stuck into the right side of the cupcake, behind both Ys. Striking the match, he ignored the shaking in his hands as he lit the candles. He then promptly blew out the match and dropped it into the water-filled wine glass in the sink to let it stop smoking. However, Rose must have seen the tremor in his hands, because she reached over and threaded their fingers together.

“I don’t like fire,” he admitted. “For obvious reasons.”

“You didn’t have to light the candles then,” Rose said gently.

“Pfff. It’s your birthday. Can’t have a birthday without blowing out some candles. How else will you get a free wish?”

Rose cracked a small smile and squeezed his fingers. She leaned forward as though she were about to blow out her candles. James cried, “Wait!”

She pulled back with a start.

“It’s your twenty-second birthday. I would think you would remember how this goes by now,” he drawled. He then sucked in a deep breath and began to sing. “Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Ro-ooose. Happy Birthday to youuuuu.”

She was grinning by the end of it, especially when he intentionally sang off-key for the sole purpose of making her smile. He’d made her cry too much in the last twenty-four hours; a smile from her was a welcome sight.

“Right. Those candles are all charged up with birthday magic. Now you can make a wish and blow,” he said, bowing and gesturing to her cupcake.

Rolling her eyes at him, Rose closed her eyes and paused for about five seconds, before she blew out a short breath, extinguishing the candles with ease. He applauded her effort, then yanked the candles out of the cupcake and extended two of them to her. They licked off the cake crumbs and icing—cream cheese, he noted with delight—then dropped them into the trash.

“Let’s eat this before all the ice cream melts,” James said, gesturing to the table. “Want anything to drink? More wine?”

“Just water.”

He grabbed two glasses from the dishwasher and filled them with water from the pitcher in the fridge before plopping down at the table beside Rose. He noticed his phone had a new text notification; Jack had replied, letting him know he was home. James relayed the news to Rose, then gestured for her to take the first bite of her birthday cupcake.

For several long minutes, they sat silently together, trading off bites of cupcake and ice cream until the bowl was empty.

“That was very good,” he praised, swiping his finger through the melted mess of ice cream and chocolate crumbs on the bottom of the bowl and licking the digit clean.

“Thanks. Elsa loves to bake but doesn't get the chance to do it as often as she likes because she lives in the dorms on campus.” Rose ran her fingertip along the rim of her glass. “When I invited her over to my flat, she said stress baking was a requirement. She didn’t know it was my birthday until we started decorating the cupcakes.”

“Do you have an aversion to people knowing it’s your birthday?”

She snorted. “No. But it just… it didn’t feel right to celebrate. Not when we’d…” She trailed off with a shrug. “All month I’d been looking forward to finally telling you it was my birthday. It didn’t feel right to tell anyone about my birthday if I couldn’t tell you.”

“I really buggered your birthday,” he sighed, chest tightening.

“Nah.” She pursed her lips. “Okay, well, yeah. But it wasn’t just you. I didn’t help. I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate my birthday today, so I kept it to myself. Anyways. Elsa knocked a bit of sense into me this afternoon. Helped put some things into better perspective.”

“I’m glad you have a friend like that to share things with,” he said.

Rose hummed in agreement. “She also called me out for being an idiot.”

James snorted. “Jack did much the same for me.” He paused, fidgeting uncomfortably for a few seconds before he blurted, “I am so sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry for snooping through your mail and reading that letter, and I’m so sorry for jumping to a conclusion that was absolutely ridiculous, and I’m sorry for accusing you of not trusting me. I’m sorry I twisted the situation and your words and actions to put the blame all on you. I’m sorry I let my own insecurities warp my perceptions of you and our relationship, and I’m so, so sorry for ever insinuating that you would want to go back to Jimmy.”

Rose was dead silent. When James chanced a peek over at her, he was horrified to see tears welling in her eyes. She blinked and they fell down her cheeks.

Sniffling, she wiped at them and whispered, “That really hurt. I thought I had told you enough about Jimmy to show you he wasn’t a nice person to be in a relationship with. And I thought…”

“You did,” James interrupted fervently. “You did Rose. You were absolutely correct in saying I had selective memory. You told me more about him than I realized. I was too caught up in my own head last night to remember everything you’d said. I’m so sorry about that.”

Rose waved him off. “Forget Jimmy for a minute. Even if he wasn’t a wanker… It hurt that you would think I would be tempted into a new relationship with someone else when we’ve been so happy together. At least, I’ve been happy.”

“I’ve been happy, too,” James said. He covered her hand with his. “I swear, Rose. I’ve been so happy with you.”

He wished he had better answers for her. He wished he could explain what had triggered him last night, explain how his brain had disregarded nearly seven months of a friendship and four months of a relationship stronger than he’d ever had before. Why had he thought Rose would be tempted by an ex-boyfriend who had treated her so horribly? Why did he have the anxiety that Rose would see through his facade and realize he wasn’t as exciting as she’d thought? Why was he so fearful she would leave?

Because everyone leaves.

The realization crashed over him with the force of a tidal wave, pushing his head beneath the water until he could barely breathe. He was drowning, fighting a losing battle against the current, about to be swept away into the sea when he was thrown a lifeline.

Rose squeezed his fingers hard, grounding him, pulling him back to the moment. His chest was tight and tears blurred his vision.

Everyone leaves.

His mother, who had thought it more prudent to attend to their dogs rather than get herself to safety with her husband and son.

His father, who had rescued him from their burning house only to leave him on the street to go back inside. James hadn’t been enough to keep his dad by his side, and so he had lost two parents that night.

His aunt, who had never wanted kids, had never expected to have kids. She pulled long hours and travelled incessantly, chasing big news stories while James pretended he was fine with being alone, while silently wishing his dad had never saved him from their house. He knew without a doubt that, if his aunt could do it all over again, if she knew then what she knew now, she never would have agreed to be his godmother when he was born. He loved his aunt, and knew his aunt loved him, but he wasn’t so naïve as to be ignorant of the fact that he had upheaved his aunt’s life, and not entirely for the better.

The friends he had left behind in the UK and never heard from again after he and his aunt moved to America. People he had known since childhood who hadn’t bothered putting in the effort to stay in touch, despite claiming they would.

His previous partners, many of whom finding ways to end their brief relationship after realizing he didn’t want to have sex with them. Time after time, he had to listen to them say it was fine that they weren’t being physically intimate—with an unspoken yet dangling between them—only to listen to them make up excuses for why they were ending the relationship. Granted, he had broken off a relationship himself a few times, but over half the time, his partner had been the one to end it.

Over and over, people came and people went, and at the heart of it, James was hardly more than a spectre, unable to be seen or heard as his heart was left broken. And yet when Rose had joined him, had taken his hand and made promises and vows that nobody ever had before, he had jumped at the first opportunity to assume she would leave him, too.

Chair legs scraped across the floor a moment before a warm, familiar arm wrapped around his waist. He turned into Rose and rested his cheek on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, the subtle tones of amber and citrus, of warmth and love and home.

Something deep in his chest cracked open, releasing the floodgates. For the past nine and a half years, he had been drifting, trying to make sense of how he could feel so alone when he was surrounded by people, able to make new friends and acquaintances at the drop of a hat. Yet there was always that disconnect, making him feel more like an outsider looking in. Like everyone else was aware of the punchline of a joke while he was left clueless.

Until Rose. With Rose it had been natural. Effortless. It was though his world had shifted into perfect focus, and at the heart of it was her. She had reminded him of what it felt like to belong, to feel perfectly at home with another person. And though he was desperate not to lose her and what they had together, part of him was holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yet in doing so, he had let his anxiety take control and had hurt Rose badly enough that he had nearly caused her to do exactly what he had been terrified of.

James’s shoulders shook as he wept quietly into Rose’s neck, dampening the collar of her shirt. She didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she held him closer, rubbing her hand up and down the length of his spine as he sobbed and gasped for breath.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry for everything, Rose.”

Haltingly, through the juddering tears that cracked his voice, he explained his revelation to her. He hoped he didn’t sound like he was making excuses for himself, but he genuinely wanted her to understand the conclusion his big, stupid brain had come to.

“I let my fears take over,” he said, voice raw from crying and talking. “I didn’t realize what they were. And I didn’t realize how loud they’d gotten.”

“I understand,” Rose said quietly. “Believe me. I understand. Is there anything I can do to help you quiet them?”

James rubbed his hand beneath his clogged, stuffy nose and grimaced when it came away wet. He pulled away from Rose and stood, moving to the sink to wash his hands, then to grab a handful of tissues. He blotted his eyes then blew his nose before he sank into his seat beside her again.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I know this is a me problem, not a you problem. You’ve been wonderful, Rose. You and me… our relationship… it has all been wonderful. I don’t know why I was so quick to let ten minutes of screaming insecurities make me forget about half a year of loving you.”

Rose chewed on the inside of her cheek, contemplating. “If ever there’s a time those voices are getting too loud, I’d like you to tell me. Though I know sometimes they can go unnoticed. But if you realize you’re getting stuck in your head, let me know and I’ll try to help you out of it.”

James flashed her a grateful smile. “Same for you. If there’s ever a time I can help you with whatever’s on your mind…”

Rose sighed. “I need to get better about that. I’ve realized I have a bad habit of telling myself I will deal with something later, but later never actually comes.” She sucked in a big breath and blew it out again. “I’m sorry you saw that letter from Jimmy. Yeah, you were a bit of a twat for reading it and reacting like you did. But I’m sorry you were blindsided like that, and that I ignored how it made you feel. And I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t trust you. I’m sorry I made you self-conscious for everything you’ve shared with me and that you feel like I don’t share enough with you.” She let out a sad little laugh that twisted his heart. “This is going to sound lame, but I honestly didn’t realize I wasn’t being as open with you as I thought I was. It feels like you know me better than anyone ever has, so I didn’t think to change anything. But now that I know how you feel, I want to work to be better at that.”

James shook his head and covered her hand. “No, Rose. I got caught up in my own head and in my frustration. You’ve shared more with me than I wanted to admit last night.” Jack’s words clanged around in his head. “I shouldn’t have expected the exact same level of sharing from you as I am comfortable with giving.”

“That’s not fair. I am comfortable with you…”

James cringed. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not accusing you of anything, Rose. Merely stating a fact. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or upset, I swear. I want you to be comfortable talking with me, and forcing you to talk about things you aren’t comfortable with is counterproductive.”

“Thing is, I was always going to tell you everything about Jimmy,” Rose sighed. “When he first texted me, it sent me into a blind panic and I sorta… shut down. I wanted to take the time I needed to get into a better place before sharing it with you. But I guess I didn’t realize how long it was since he first texted me.”

James stayed silent, letting her get her thoughts together. He twined their fingers together, happy to be able to sit and touch her like this, when for many long, heartbreaking hours in the wee hours of that morning, he had been sure that he would never be able to do so again. Her hand fit perfectly in his, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to make their relationship whole again, to make sure he could hold her hand for the rest of their lives.

When Rose began speaking, he gave her his full attention and tried to keep his emotions in check. He listened to her explain how Jimmy had texted her out of the blue, having gotten her number from a “mutual friend”.

“M’still not sure who gave it to him,” Rose said with a sigh. “He never told me and none of my friends claim to have done it.”

James listened to her describe the early conversations she’d had with Jimmy, from telling him that she needed time, to working through her anxiety with the help of Elsa and a counselor, to coming to the decision to let Jimmy say his piece.

“He was very important to me at one time. He was the love of my life. He was my everything. He will always be important and special because I genuinely loved him, and like it or not, my experiences with him shaped me into the person I am today. I don’t love him anymore, and frankly don’t miss him or want what we used to have, but if this would help him and me move on, I really wanted to let him say what he needed to say.

“He apologized to me, and it wasn’t even a terrible apology. Though he did make it sound like we both were at fault, but you know what, it was better than I was expecting, so I sorta took it as a win. I figured we were done, but then he wanted to know if he could repay me for all the debts he’d left me with. I can’t remember if I told you before, but he stopped paying his part of the rent at the end of our relationship. I got so behind on those payments because I had other bills to focus on that by the time I moved out, I was six months behind.

“I refused Jimmy’s offer. Told him everything was paid off and he didn’t owe me anything.” Rose sniffled and smiled ruefully, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You know my money insecurities. I couldn’t stand the thought that he might use this as a way to control me again. So I shut him down.”

“Good for you,” James murmured, his first words in a while. “You don’t have to go on. It’s okay.”

But Rose shook her head. “I want you to know all of this. I want to come to you when—as Elsa puts it—shit ties up my brain. And my brain has been in knots for over a month. I want to be better with being okay about my thoughts sometimes getting tangled; I realized if I waited until my brain was calm to tell you everything, I would never tell you anything. I don’t want secrets between us, and I’m frustrated with myself that I unwittingly kept secrets from you. I can’t promise I will tell you immediately when something is on my mind, but I will make more of an effort to be more open with you. I wish I’d told you all of this sooner, but I can’t go back and change how I handled this, so let me tell you all of this now.”

James nodded and brought their clasped hands to his lips for a soft kiss.

“After I told Jimmy I didn’t want his money, I thought we were done. I didn’t hear from him for a few days, but then I got a text from him, a selfie with some of our old friends. A harmless group photo. Then he started sharing news from home. Or he would send me playlists. Stupid, innocent stuff we used to. He has really good taste in music and I’m always happy to have new songs or artists to listen to.

“We started chatting a little more regularly. Not daily, but a few times a week. A few messages at a time. He shared updates about his life, told me about going to drug and alcohol meetings, financial counseling, and so on. I told him about America and school. I didn’t tell him about you, though. It’s stupid, and I should have because I don’t think Jimmy realizes I’m not single, but you’re mine.” The word sent a thrill up James’s spine, and he couldn’t help but kiss her knuckles again. “You’re mine and I didn’t want to share you with him. I didn’t want anything of Jimmy to touch you. And I wasn’t trying to lead him on or anything. Or keep him a secret from you. But all of a sudden it’s been five weeks since he first texted.

“Then he sent me that letter. It came two days ago. I cried when I got it. I never gave him my address, so I panicked that he had somehow stalked me and found me, that he would be waiting at the university for me. And I was just… so defeated. I thought maybe he’d changed. Grown up or something. Stupidly, I thought maybe we could eventually be friends. But the only thing he wanted was for me to get back together with him.”

Rose’s tears dripped down her cheeks and her breathing hitched. James wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. She willingly leaned into him and sniffled quietly for a long moment.

“Did you really think that was a love letter?” Rose croaked.

“Pardon?”

“What Jimmy wrote to me. Did you think it read like a love letter?”

James sucked on the inside of his lower lip. He tried to remember the content of the letter, but his memories were all tainted with the pain of their argument.

“I don’t remember enough of it,” he confessed. “I’m sorry.”

Rose lifted her bum off of her chair, reaching into her back pocket to pull out a piece of paper that had been folded into eighths.

“Here,” she said, giving it to him.

Tentatively, he took it. Rose pulled herself out of his embrace and grabbed a tissue from the crumpled pile he had brought over.

As he reread the letter, his stomach twisted into knots when he picked out several words and phrases.

I’ve found a piece of myself…

I’m not complete…

I hate the person I am without you…

…happiest of my life…

…nothing more I’ve wanted…

…(our life?)…

You make me feel like I can do anything…

I love how I feel when I’m with you…

I was scared about how much I needed you…

…something I always knew would be there for me…

I know I can make it work this time…

…enjoy your time there, while you can…

…we can work harder together to make us work…

I will do whatever it takes to make this work…

Over and over, James read the letter, his mind picking up more of the tone and the sheer selfishness in it. Everything Jimmy said was about him, about how he needed Rose, without giving a thought about whether Rose wanted or needed him. He plainly admitted to taking her for granted, and still, after all this time, he acted as though he and Rose were equally at fault for how their relationship had ended.

How must it have sounded to Rose, for him to go off on her about the letter?

“Oh, Rose,” James breathed, “I’m so sorry. God, I was a twat, wasn’t I?”

She let out a watery giggle. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Can I ask…? How did Jimmy find your address? I mean. Do you even know how he found it?”

Rose’s eyes welled with tears again, even as she scoffed. “My mum.”

“Your… mum?” That had not been what James had expected. “But… why?”

Rose shook her head. “Apparently Jimmy went ‘round the estate. Found my mum and told her we’d been chatting. Said he wanted to send me money to help cover the bills I’d paid. He said exactly the right thing—when I moved back home, my mum kept telling me over and over that Jimmy should cough up the money to cover his half of the flat and the expenses that had built up.

“A couple weeks ago, my mum asked me if I’d been chatting with Jimmy. When I said yes, I guess she assumed I knew Jimmy wanted to repay me but I was being unreasonable.” Rose’s face crumpled. “I know my mum didn’t know how badly Jimmy had treated me, and that's my fault for not telling her. But what if he’d been a murderous stalker? What if he’d physically or sexually abused me? What if he used that information and showed up alone at my flat one night and broke in and…?”

She coughed out a wracking sob and buried her face in her hands. James nearly began crying at the sight of her distress. “How dare my mum give out my address like that? I never thought she’d do something like that. My mum called to wish me a happy birthday and I told her a little bit about why you and I were fighting, and she told me she was the one who gave Jimmy my address. I got so angry with her, and she was gettin’ angry with me. I’ve spent the day crying ‘cos I was fighting with my two favorite people.”

James tossed the letter onto the table and wrapped his arms around Rose, holding her tightly to his chest. He had never been angrier with another person than he was right now with Jackie Tyler. Well. Jackie Tyler and Jimmy bloody Stone. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m sorry.”

“Joke’s on Mum, though; Jimmy didn’t send a single quid with that letter.” Rose sniffled and scrubbed her hands across her eyes. “I hate this. I wish I’d blocked Jimmy from the start, I wish I’d told you when he texted, I wish I’d told my mum not to talk to Jimmy. I wish I’d handled everything differently, and I wish I hadn’t gotten so upset with you last night. I’m sorry, James. I’m sorry for it all.”

James tightened his hold around her, burying his face into her neck while she wept into his. “You have every right to handle situations however you think is best. I should have had more faith and trust in you and in our relationship. I was unreasonable. But I forgive you, love. Of course I forgive you. I love you. I love you more than you can imagine, and I’m so sorry I doubted it last night.”

Rose began crying harder into his shoulder. Her breaths came out in harsh gasps as she managed to reply, “I love you too. I’m sorry for putting the doubt in your head… when you asked if I was breaking up with you and I said I didn’t know. God, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean it at all. I got scared too, same as you, and my brain sort of shut down because it couldn’t stop thinking of everything Jimmy had said or done in the past, and twisting it to look like what you were saying and doing. That’s something I need to work on because that’s insulting for me to imply that you’re anything like him, but I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed you out, and I’m so sorry.”

James merely held her tighter, his heart breaking at her agony, yet filling with more love for her than he’d ever felt before.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, Rose,” he murmured into her hair. “The strongest. You’ve overcome so much, and you’re working to make yourself the best version of yourself that you can be, and that’s so admirable. I am here to listen to anything you want to tell me, but I am okay with not knowing everything. I trust your judgement, and I know you’ll tell me what you want me to know.”

He continued speaking quietly, a combination of reassurances, affirmations, and words of love. She shed more tears than he’d ever seen her shed, and he shed just as many. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a very long time tangled with Rose.

When her tears finally dried, he pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her head before sitting back in his chair. He grabbed a tissue for himself and passed one to her; they noisily blew their noses and wiped their eyes.

“Well. Wasn’t that cathartic?” he said cheerfully, holding his hand out for her tissue to throw in the rubbish bin.

She chuckled. Though her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were splotchy, he didn’t think there was a more beautiful person in the world than her.

He washed his hands after throwing away their used tissues, then he grabbed a few more, just in case. His nose was still a bit runny, and he was sure Rose’s had to be too. He plopped into his chair with a groan.

“First fight,” he mused. “Can tick that one off the list, I suppose.”

“Was it everything you expected it to be?” she drawled, rolling her eyes.

“Admittedly it was a lot more painful than I thought,” he said. “But now we can go back to how we were, right?”

Rose paused. In the silence, his heart sank into his stomach.

“I don’t know if we should,” she said carefully, and his lungs were suddenly out of air. Her eyes widened. “No, not like you’re thinking. It’s just… everything we fought about, everything we talked about, it changed us. It changed our relationship. Not in a bad way, but it’s different now. We’re more aware of some things that we weren’t before. I don’t want to go backwards with you. I want us to go forward. Together.”

James nodded, shoulders slumping in relief. He slid his hand across the table, slipping it beneath Rose’s so her palm rested against the back of his hand. He splayed his fingers, letting hers fall between the gaps. She curled her fingers around his hand.

“You’re right,” he said, caressing his thumb along the side of her pinkie. “Absolutely, you’re right. Guess this means the honeymoon period is over?”

“Probably.” She flashed him a cheeky grin. “Hopefully we’re not over the horny hump though.”

“You’re never gonna let me forget that I said that, are you?” he whined, grimacing.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ as he often did. “It was such a dorky thing to call it.”

He pouted. “You never complained about my dorkiness before.”

“I love your dorkiness. Doesn’t mean I won’t tease you about it though.” Her smile slipped until her face turned solemn. “I’m really glad we talked this out, James.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Me too.”

“Any time Jimmy and I had an argument, we never did this. We’d shout at each other, curse at each other, and then ignore each other and not speak for a day or so. Then we’d have angry make up sex and pretend everything was fine in the morning. I don’t want to ever do that again. I want to communicate with you and to compromise with you, then grow with you.

“Staying in love is a choice, and it takes work. It shouldn’t be hard, but it’s not easy either. We need to choose to stay in love, decide that our relationship is worth making an effort for. I want to wake up every day and choose you, to choose us, and I want to put in the work because I wanna enjoy the payoff. Because being in love with you, James… it’s the best I’ve ever felt. You make me feel like I can do anything, like pass a stupid chemistry class or tell my stupid ex-boyfriend to fuck off. I love the way you make me feel. I love feeling like I’m home whenever I’m with you. And though this home we’re building with each other might have a leaky roof every now and then, I wanna fix it with you.”

James’s eyes were burning again. How was anything even left in his tear ducts? “Oh, Rose. You make me feel the same way. And I feel so inadequate because you just waxed romantic poetry at me, but my brain has stopped working. But please know I love you with every cell in my body, and I want to keep loving you with every cell, all the way down to each little organelle contained within, every day for the rest of our long and beautiful life together.”

Rose grinned at him and leaned over to press a light kiss to his lips. They tingled at the contact, and he wanted to pull her close to kiss her again.

“You’re such a science geek,” she said.

“Well. I’ve already shown you I’m rather fabulous with many types of chemistry and anatomy,” he drawled, flashing her an over-the-top wink as he clicked his tongue lewdly.

She burst into a fit of laughter that he echoed, feeling at peace for the first time in twenty-four hours. The exhaustion of all those hours suddenly overwhelmed him. His laughter morphed into a yawn, which spread to Rose.

“I’m knackered,” he announced unnecessarily. “Will you come to bed with me? My bedroom’s a disaster, but the guest bed is made.”

Rose nodded and stood up from the kitchen table. She took their bowl to the sink and rinsed it out before leaving it there for them to clean properly in the morning. She then flicked off the light on top of the stove before she followed him through the rest of the house, locking up and turning lights off as they went.

“Can I see what you’ve done to your room?” Rose asked.

“Sure,” he said, continuing down the hall rather than peeling off into the guest room. When he got to his closed door, he warned, “It’s a mess.”

They were hit with the stench of paint fumes as soon as he opened the bedroom door. He flicked on the light, and the room was bathed in the yellow glow of his lamps.

“Love the color,” Rose said.

“Yeah?” he asked, pleased with himself that, even in his miserable, depressive state of trying to not think about Rose, he had managed to pick a color she would like.

“Mhm.”

“I have to put on the second coat. I’ll probably do that tomorrow—I’m not really feeling like going to my classes, so I’ll probably ditch ‘em again.”

“You rebel,” she teased. “If you want some help, I don’t have anything important going on tomorrow. And I don’t work this weekend. We can take a few days to finish up the painting and reorganize your furniture.”

James smiled. “I’d like that.”

“It’s a date.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked her face against his shoulder. “Besides, it’ll go faster with two.”

Leaning down, James brushed a kiss to her crown then rested his cheek in her hair. “Faster with two. Better with two.” He gave her waist a tight squeeze as he kissed her again. “Better with you.”

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #university au #romance #hurt/comfort #angst #my fic #chemical reaction #catalysis series #chemical potential sequel

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thenovelartist · 5 years

Text

Ladybug’s Lament, chapter 1

After fighting with six different ideas for what I was going to write for my friend @rosegardentwilight birthday, I settled on a Siren’s Lament AU ;D Happy birthday, my friend! Hope you enjoy this :D

Next>

Marinette’s life was a simple one. She lived with her parents at a bakery in Paris, helping them run the business. At twenty-two, she knew every single in and out there was to the bakery. Though it was always unpredictable what kind of day it would be, and though some days were much harder than others, the simplicity of her life was a comfort, one of the few she had growing up.

Her home life was fine, and even handling the bakery was easy. But school…

School had been brutal.

She’d been bullied so heavily that her academics had suffered. She found it easier to play hooky for the day than face the hallways of the cruel place filled with cruel people just waiting to knock her down, verbally or physically.

However, during one of those days was when she met the one person that she could say had become her only friend.

She knew who he was—his posters were everywhere so it was nearly impossible not to know Adrien Agreste—but he had begged her to be quiet and just let him enjoy being free from the paparazzi and fans and his bodyguard for the day. She’d agreed, knowing what it was like to feel like she had to hide at any given moment. She’d helped him decide which movie would most likely have the emptiest theater, and they watched the movie together.

Though, in hindsight, ‘watched’ was a generous term. They had started talking during the previews, which lead to them continuing talking throughout the movie, and by the time the credits were rolling, they were exchanging numbers suggesting they should do it again.

Which they did.

Again. And again. And again.

They became best friends, and it wasn’t just because they were each other’s only real friend at the moment. He was the first person who truly encouraged her and stood by her side even when school was rough. And he’d admitted that it was wonderful having a friend that never cared about his celebrity status and genuinely cared for him and his wellbeing.

But somewhere along the line, she’d fallen for him. It was so embarrassing. They were friends. They were supposed to stay friends. He liked her because she was a genuine friend to him, because she wasn’t looking for anything more from him than friendship.

Meaning that no matter how hard it was, she’d have to stay mum. She would never tell him that she’d been crushing on him for a few years now. Because as he’d said many times before, they were great friends. A great team.

A tap on her shoulder sent her leaping into the sky, yanking her from her reverie.

She glared at the blonde offender, her supposedly best friend who knew better than to sneak up at her like that, who was laughing. “Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry,” she grumbled.

“Guilty as charged.” Adrien held up his hands. “Hey, I think that we’re past any rush. Could I take my break? Kagami’s here. But I could tell her I can’t if you need me to—”

“It’s fine,” Marinette interrupted with a forced grin. With Marinette’s parents out of town visiting relatives in China for the next few weeks, Marinette was running the place on her own. Well, besides Adrien who had been more than happy to pick up any extra shifts she needed him to. He was such an amazing friend and helper, which made Marinette feel guilty over just how far her heart sank at the sight of Kagami standing outside with a cup of coffee in her hands. “Go see your girlfriend. Besides, you deserve a break.”

“Thanks, Marinette,” he said, slipping out of his apron. “Be back in five.” He roughly folded the apron, then set it in a cubby behind the counter before heading outside to meet her. Marinette forced her smile to remain, but in reality, it broke her heart to see Adrien out there with the girl he knew from his fencing club being all smiles and whatnot.

“Oh, you poor girl.”

Marinette looked over to where Miss Lila Rossi, her worst school bully and yet a regular customer, was standing with a mock frown on her face.

“Seems nothing goes your way, huh, Marinette?”

She scoffed. “You’re wrong. I was the one who encouraged Adrien to date Kagami.” Which, she had been. Adrien had often talked about Kagami and how they usually sparred together. The mention of the girl always seemed to put a smile on his face, and Marinette wanted nothing more for him to be able to smile since his father disowned him when Adrien decided to quit modeling… with Marinette’s encouragement. She’d never not feel guilty for causing such a rift between him and the only family member he had left.

“Yeah,” Lila said with a knowing smirk. “I doubt that. Anyway, best of luck dealing with that broken heart. I hear chocolate ice cream’s a good remedy. Don’t worry about the calories. A girl with a face like yours shouldn’t have to be careful of her weight.”

Lila strutted out of the store, leaving Marinette alone, sulking from that sting. She had to learn to let those go and not obsess over her appearance in the mirror like she had in high school. Lila was a liar, had always been, and apparently, always would be. But Marinette had to admit that even though she knew they were lies, sometimes it was hard to convince herself otherwise.

With a sigh, Marinette turned away from the counter, mostly so she wouldn’t be able to watch Adrien and Kagami interact. After all, Kagami was practically perfect. She was fit, fearless, and had a fine face. But even telling herself that, the selfish part of Marinette still regretted ever encouraging Adrien to go out with her.

The bell for the door rang, and she instinctively put on a customer service smile. “Hello, how can I help you?”

The old man looked over the case of treats. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’ve never been here before. What do you recommend?”

Marinette glanced over the lines of baked goods. “The macarons are always enjoyable.”

He hummed, looking at them. “Perfect. I will take two of whichever ones you think are the best.”

With a nod, she grabbed a little bag and a pair of tongs, using them to put two of her personal favorite macarons into the bag. When she returned to the register, he was ready with a bill to complete the transaction.

“Perfect,” Marinette said, taking the bill, then pulling out his change to hand back. “Thank you very much. I hope you enjoy them.”

He smiled. “You wear a smile, yet I see sadness in your eyes.”

Instantly, Marinette’s smile disappeared, mostly because it was near impossible to keep smiling when a perfect stranger calls your bluff so bluntly.

The man looked out the window to where Adrien was chatting animatedly with Kagami. “The ache in your heart wouldn’t happen to be from that boy out there, would it?”

She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. “Is it that obvious?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been around many years; I know the signs of a broken heart. I think I have just the thing to cheer you up.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a little octagonal box to put on the counter.

“Oh, no no no,” Marinette said, waving her hands around. “I couldn’t take that.”

“Of course, you can,” the man said. “They’re said to give you a little luck. Maybe, it will help you with your boy troubles.” With that, he headed out of the store before Marinette could stop him. “My best wishes to you, Miss Marinette.”

He disappeared from the store before she could say a word. “Thank you,” she mumbled, despite no one being around to hear it.

Curiously, she reached down to open the box, gasping as she saw a pair of Ladybug print earrings. They were really cute. And with that ladybug pattern…

She put the earrings in her ears. What did it hurt? She could use all the luck she could get.

…

Monday nights for most people would be the boring start of the work week. However, Monday nights for Marinette meant going out with Adrien and walking around the city and maybe seeing a movie.

She had picked a dress to wear, a simple pink one that she paired with a denim jacket. She tossed her hair up into twin pig tails and finished them off with two pink bows. She smiled at herself in the mirror, thinking she looked pretty cute.

But suddenly, an image of Kagami came to her mind. That woman was always perfectly put together, and her hair was sleek and stylish, not put in little pigtails and definitely never decorated with bows.

She should change before Adrien arrived.

“Marinette?”

Too late. “Coming.”

She grabbed her purse, shoving her phone and her wallet inside of it before making her way downstairs to where Adrien was.

Only to see him on the phone.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Kagami,” he said. He caught Marinette’s eye, then pointed to the phone mouthing ‘sorry’. “I would come over right now, but I’m with Marinette.”

“Go,” Marinette said, her heart slowly breaking. “If you need to go, then go.”

Adrien covered the mouth piece. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said with a forced smile. “Sounds like Kagami needs you. Go.”

“Thanks, Marinette.” He then took his hand away from the mouth piece. “Yeah, I’ll be over as soon as I can. See you in a bit, Kagami.” He hung up and slid the phone into his pocket. “I’m so sorry. Kagami wasn’t accepted as a teacher for the fencing league she was applying for, and so her mom’s upset meaning she’s upset and—”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, interrupting him. “Go to her. Tell her I’m sorry, too. That must be really hard on her.”

Adrien grabbed hold of her shoulders. “Thank you, Marinette, for being so understanding.”

“What are friends for?” Her smile was growing more forced by the minute as the number of pieces her heart was being broken into was growing.

“Still, thank you.” With one last squeeze, he turned around and headed out. “We’ll reschedule!” he hollered right before he slipped out the door. “Have a good night, Marinette.”

“Thanks. You too.”

The door shut, and instantly, Marinette felt her knees buckle. From her spot on the floor, she bit her lip, playing with the hem of her dress. Of course. She’d never be able to compete with Kagami. But that was what she had wanted for Adrien, right? Happiness? Someone who made him smile? He had someone who he cared for so much, and Kagami was very lucky to have him by her side.

She reached up to brush an errant lock of hair behind her ear, fingers brushing against her earring. “Lucky, huh?” she mumbled rubbing her finger over the jewelry. “Yeah, right.”

As she looked out into the Parisian night, she couldn’t help but think that maybe it would be nice to just get out and spend some time by herself. She rarely left, it seemed, unless it went out with Adrien.

As a friend, of course. Because that’s all they were and all they would ever be: the best of friends.

She decided to go for a long walk; she needed it to clear her mind. She soon found herself at the Seine, looking over the bridge into the water. The moonlight shone off in little ripples, constantly swaying and moving. The sound wasn’t loud enough to drown out the ambient noise of the city, one that had grown quieter with the fall of night. The cool air was such a contrast to that of the bakery, and the slight breeze felt good blowing against her exposed skin.

It was enough to help her drop the weight on her shoulders, if only for a moment. The weight of having been bullied for years. The weight of helping her parents run a bakery with a smile always on her face. The weight of having a wild crush for her best friend, the one who was always by her side.

The one who was dating another woman.

It was so much for one girl to handle. It hurt, the pain in her heart not able to be held back. She bit her lip, trying not to cry. She let out deep breath after deep breath in hopes to keep her tears at bay, but only succeeded in making herself light-headed, forcing her to lean against the barrier wall of the bridge.

“Oh, broken-hearted one, your soul has grown weary. Have you turned to the lonely tides to engulf your tears?”

A single tear slipped from her eye as she looked up to find where that angelic voice was coming from but there was no one she could see. But, to be fair, she couldn’t see anything with her vision so blurry and head as fuzzy as it was.

“May the waves embrace you, lull you softly to sleep. Ease away all the hurt and pain you’ve carried through the years.”

Slowly, she stood up straight to look over at the water, feeling as though it was calling for her. How, she couldn’t know, but that was definitely where it was coming from. Was there a boat?

“But if given the chance, would you forget the past?”

She leaned over ever more, wondering if she could see it, her grip slowly slipping as she leaned further and further forward.

“You and I could start all over.”

She was falling, the water fast approaching.

“We can love again, my dear.”

Splash!

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #Siren's Lament #Siren's Lament AU #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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opinuun · 4 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..

#long post

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painted-starlight · 5 years

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Ta/ngled Ditched The Animation Technique that Was the Sole Reason for It’s Existence

Warning: Long Post, Anti-Ta//ngled, speculation/theory on why it was so expensive when the final movie’s visuals looked so generic and underwhelming.

And no, this isn’t a complaint about the natural transition between concept art and the final movie, more sadness that the ambitious technology being scrapped for a so-so story.

If You Don’t Want to Read This Long Ass Post, Here’s the Rundown:

Tl;dr: T//angled’s entire premise was based more on the technology being developed than it’s plot or characters.

When the filmmakers ended up not being able to use the technology that they loved, the production found themselves in a bind. They had a movie that was passable, but no grandiose visuals to blow the audience away. It’s entirely possible that they used the rest of the budget to scrape together the movie into what it was.

A Few Notes Before I begin

Note: This is the most recent version of the final movie I am talking about. While the story went through probably dozens of revisions (from a Shrek inspired story to one more closer to it’s fairytale roots) the animation advancements, I speculate, is what really sold people on developing the movie into it’s final form.

There is also story differences between the different versions of T//angled. When I refer to my title, what I mean is that the final version of T//angled and Rapun/zel almost entirely hinged on the developing technology. This however, might not apply to Ra/punzel Unbraided, which was very early in the production and would’ve probably had a different art direction.

Terminology

Rap/unzel Unbraided is the initial pitch which was a Shrek Ripoff. It is characterized by it’s modern setting and Rapunzel and her love interest being teenagers put into a fairytale. There is however, a transition period where the next version seems to share the same name as the previous one. Same with R//apunzel and it’s last minute name change to T//angled.

Rapunze/l was focused on developing R/apunzel’s character arc, was darker in tone, Ra/punzel’s clothing was light green and had Bastion instead of Flynn Rider

T//angled switched the character arc/story progression from R/apunzel to Flynn Rider and was more focused on marketing, selling toys, and appealing to male audiences through advertising, a name change, and had a simplified story. This version is very much focused on appearances and is pretty much just a two hour long toy commercial.

As someone who has followed T//angled since it was announced online, I’ve realized the reason why it was the most expensive animated film ever made while looking really generic.

What Happened to the Detail?

In the early stages of the announcement of Rap/unzel , what was emphasized was the groundbreaking technology that was being developed for Rap//unzel, the movie.

The articles that I read constantly talked about how lush and beautiful it would look, how the filmmakers wanted to make it look like an oil painting (like the Swing), and how it was what they were pouring themselves into. Looking into a high definition of the Swing and comparing it to Tan//gled’s artwork, we can see the level of detail they had in mind for their natural environments.

When the movie was first announced, this is what they plugged. The animation, the software, the detail. This is why we have so many shots of T//angled that take place in the woods and don’t look anything special.

According to AWM.com’s interview in 2005 with Glene Keane, “Chicken Little and Beyond: Disney Rediscovers it’s Animation through 3D” this is what was said about Rap/unzel Unbraided’s Desired Aesthetic:

A fairy tale world has to feel romantic and lush. So [we were able to duplicate] the shot with the girl on the swing in 3D.

Theres been a couple of moments on this picture that are really unusual. I’ve never been on a film where just showing an image of a tree on the screen causes everyone to applaud in a theater.

These are huge steps but in seemingly mundane ways. To be able to do a dimensional tree where the leaves turn, but it still feels like it has calories if you look at it too long. Very painterly.

....

This is not Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty or Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast. This will evolve into what it should be in its own style..... After 30 years of animation, what I want is to come up with a film that really gives you time to let you know our characters a story that you truly believe in with a lot of heart and humor and will have people cry.

The final result is very bland and the backgrounds are not very lush.

Considering the amount of detail that went into the Swing and the excessive decadence shown in the Rococo style art, I get the feeling that the environment was supposed to be breathtaking instead of plain and generic.

They constantly told people how the animation was going to blow people away. I admittedly was really excited for it. But it was not meant to be. They were probably putting too much of the budget into developing the software needed to render the animation and were told to ditch it.

So later into the production the filmmakers begrudgingly downgraded the animation they developed because it was too ambitious.

The story was more of a vehicle for the animation rather than both complimenting the other. And because they focused so much on the animation that they ended up never even implementing, they had a half baked, but solid story left. It was neither good nor bad, it was meh.

#anti tangled #tangled crit #dont mind me just bitching about tangled #again lolll

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saintcanardmoved · 4 years

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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.

#long post

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makesureitsreal · 4 years

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bucket shit

When I was like 14 in 8th grade I had this big plan for my life in my mind. I couldn’t wait for myself to get my first boyfriend, go to all These parties and to try new adventures. I read a lot and watched many movies and all the time I was sitting there and were so excited for all the Things were going to happen.

Like exactly one year later all my dreams became completely shattered. I wachted my best friend getting a boyfriend. I wachted when all my Friends went to parties and realized that I was sitting at home watched “Gilmore Girls” with my Mum. I noticed that I’m not the Girl I was sure to be one year year ago. And I wondered why.

So I started to not feel very comfortable with myself, my life and my Body. I began I diet because I thought that could be the way I can get my life to be better and get myself to be noticed because when I saw my friend Living their perfect lifes and ignored me for their boyfriends I felt very loney.

I lost weight. I lost many weight. 17 Kilos exactly. Each day I tried to challange myself to eat more less and do more Sport. And for a short time this was really helpful. I felt strong and healthy. I was in my Little world and loved getting nice words for my skinny Body.

I focused all my mind on Food. I searched on the Internet for the most healthiest Food and believed all the shit About Superfroods, Chia Seeds and clean Eating. To not understand my wrong, healthy Nutrition is important and I really believe in Eating mostly vegan and Fresh but for me it was getting too far. Soon I was afraid of Eating wheat and sugar. All the diets told me to not eat Pasta so I never ate Pasta and became Panic when my parents wanted to cook them. I loved cooking so I spend Hours and Hours in the kitchen cooking the most healthiest and low calories meal I could find. I baked a lot but never eat what I made.

I was so terrified of waisting Food and to eat more than 800 kcal a day. Sometimes it was even more less than that.

With all the stuff I became a completely new Person. My own Bibel were all the Blogs on Instagram I followed. They seemed so happy and I wanted it so badly because even I lost weight I still felt sad.

So I started practising Yoga on YouTube for a “Peaceful Mind”, I went Jogging to feel free and comfortable, I cooked Fresh every day and wrote a big bucket list I printed on my wall.

I tried to do something exciting every Weekend but even when I did I didn’t felt like I imagined.

I didn’t understand it. I did ALL the Things the big Influencer did. I try to reconstruct all the Pictures on their Instagram but I didn’t feel happy like them. My mind was defently not peaceful after Yoga and all the healthy Food didn’t help my Body to become better. I felt weak and Cold. My clothes started to not fit my Body anymore and soon I had to accepted that I was mentally sick and all the bucket shit wouldn’t help me to get out of it.

I don’t what happend at next but when I tried to gain more wheigt because I was already much too thin I started to eat more and more. I didn’t see any sense in being so disciplined anymore because it didn’t work. So I had a lot of eat attacks and a few weeks later I find myself in a bulimia nervosa because I was so terrified of myself and the consequences my behavior had on my Body that started being restrictive again after every attack.

But I found me really hating myself for being so excessive. I felt like I couldn’t bring myself to do anything good and wished I could be so disciplined again.

Now I’m in my second statioary residence and I still wonder why my life can’t be like all the People on Instagram. I still asked myself what’s wrong with me and why I still hadn’t my first kiss and why everyone can go so easily on parties and why is it for me so difficult.

But I think we all should accept that you don’t have to go to parties every Weekend to have fun. You don’t have to have your first boyfriend at 16 oder whatever if you don’t fall for someone. You don’t have to have the highest expectations.

Pizza and Donuts and frozen Lasagne are still tasty. Yoga doesn’t open your mind. Especially when you do it alone in your room in front of a TV.

Your life doesn’t have to be like in all the movies.

It’s okay to not have the best Friends in School.

You don’t Need to have a To-Do-List each day and it’s so nice to just do what you felt like to do.

I don’t have plans because I can tell that sometimes they didn’t work the Right way and sometimes it’s so Relaxing to just see what happend.

So I still don’t know what I am doing after School, I still don’t have a boyfriend and still doesn’t know what to do at the Weekend. I hope I can make it happen to travel to Australia and Island.

But for now I just don’t having any plans and Maybe it’s okay.

#influencer #mental disorder #mental instability #mental heath support #clean eating #healthy eating #eating desorders #anorexia #bulimia #bucketlist #yoga #depression #depressed #skinny #doing nothing

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lils-writes · 5 years

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À Quoi Ça Sert L’Amour

Here are the first two chapters of my fic entitled “À Quoi Ça Sert L’Amour”.

Summery: Disowned by age 19, Adrien has no one to turn to. All his friends are far from Paris and he has no way to get to them. Well, all but one baker girl he befriended when he was 14.

You can find it on AO3 as well!

The streets of Paris never seemed this dull in all of Adrien’s life. But now, with a small suitcase in one hand and a small piece of paper in the other, the city of lights shined no more and everything felt out of place. Or maybe it was just him who was out of place. But what was his place? Where did he belong?

Adrien Agreste was the heir to the Agreste fashion empire. He was, in the past. Now, he as just Adrien. Adrien nobody. His father decided that he had enough of his son, showed him the door and handed him a check, just enough for the boy to survive for some time. What was he supposed to do now? The press would quickly be on his trail, once the news was out. He couldn't live his life on the run.

Soon enough, the blond dug through his bag, pulling out his phone. Out of habit, he composed Nino’s number, only half expecting the touring DJ to answer. Nino had just always been a source of comfort for Adrien. His best friend always knew how to cheer him up. Luckily enough for him, an energetic voice shot through the speaker, making Adrien smile a lit.

“Hey dude! What's up? Why you callin' so late?”

“It’s 8 in the morning. How is that late?”

“3 am, dude! Remember, I'm in America with Alya? Time zones, pal.”

“Oh.” It was all Adrien managed to get out. The words caught in his throat, turning his stomach over. “Sorry, I'll call back another time, then.” Adrien almost hung up, had it not been for Nino's shouts.

“Wait! What happened? Another fight with the old man?”

“He kicked me out for good this time.” Adrien’s voice was barely over a whisper, a shameful whisper. It hurt more than he thought it would. It had been 5 years since the passing of his mother, 5 years since his father became increasingly cold towards him. Nathalie used to say that it was because he resembled his mother too much for Gabriel to handle, but this grief of his had gone too far. The father-son bond was ruined to the point of no return. It had gone from a little distance to being completely disowned.

“You can stay in my apartment if you want? I’ll call my landlord, tell her to give you a key to my place if ever you want.” Nino's voice sounded desperate, desperate to help his best friend. Adrien smiled on the other side of the line.

“Thanks Nino, I’ll think about it. I should let you rest, it’s late where you are. Sleep well.”

Adrien stared at the red phone icon on his phone as the call ended. At least he had a place to stay for a few weeks. Nino wasn't his best friend for nothing. They always had each other’s back, no matter how far apart they were. Adrien was grateful for the other boy’s generosity. He'd have to find a way to repay this generosity. Maybe he'd do something to the apartment, or get Nino some kind of equipment he needed. Then again, Adrien no longer had the money to do that. Money had always helped him repay these kinds of debts. Now, Adrien had to be more creative with his ways.

Somehow, unconsciously, Adrien hit Chloe’s contact and held the phone to his ear. He was lost. He needed a friend. He needed someone, badly. Insecurities had started flowing back in, blanking him. His life was upside down and he didn't know how to deal with this.

“Bonjour, Adri-chou! How are you today?” The pitchy voice of his first friend made him smile. It was comforting to hear Chloe so happy.

“Nothing much. I just wanted to know if I could see you today.”

“I'm sorry, Adrikins. I'm out of the country for a little while. My mom booked me flight to all the hottest places to be. Red carpets, photo-shoots, everything I've ever wanted. It really boosts my career as a fashion critic.” Chloe actually sounded apologetic for once.

“Oh, alright. In that case, I hope you have fun and that we’ll get to hang out once you're back in Paris. I have to go now. Talk to you soon, Chlo.”

“Ttyl, Adrikins!”

Chloe blew him a kiss before hanging up. Chloe had really changed, these past few years, but she still remained Chloe. She was still bubbly and affectionate, but she had grown into a better person. She was nicer with everyone, putting all that bad attitude of teen Chloe behind her. Age made her realize that kindness would get you farther than bitchiness would. The thoughts temporarily made Adrien happy, pushing the bad thoughts of Gabriel to the back of his mind. It helped him make his way to Nino’s apartment. Adrien needed a place to crash down in to think.

On his way, Adrien crossed a bakery. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours. The smell of fresh pastries pulled him in. He had always been a sucker for anything sweet, even if Nathalie always forbade him from having any. Being a model meant he had a strict calorie counted diet, and Nathalie judged sweets to be an unnecessary waste of those precious calories. Slowly, he walked in, a little bell announcing his arrival.

“Welcome to the Dupain-Cheng bakery! How may I- Adrien? Good morning, Adrien!”

The girl behind the cash grinned at him as she grabbed a croissant from the display case. She was still talking, but Adrien didn't catch a word she said. When was the last time they had spoken? How many years had it been? She still remembered him, gleefully greeting him, as if it had been just a few days. She had always been a cheerful person, always there for everyone. Marinette really was a wonderful girl.

“Here, it seems like you’ve had a rough night.” She handed him a fresh croissant, smiling at him. “On the house.”

Adrien held up few euros, trying to convince her to accept them. He had enough money to buy a croissant. But Marinette was stubborn. Something about treating her friends. Adrien gave in, taking the croissant with a wide smile and sitting near the counter, close enough to still be able to talk to his old classmate. He liked her voice. It was comforting.

Surprisingly, conversation flowed naturally. It wasn't anything like the conversations Adrien had with Chloe or Nino, but it was also very different from the memories of conversations the two had had in their school days. Marinette seemed a lot more confident, stuttering a lot less. She was smiling more, seeming more like who Marinette must have really been. She was hardworking, but also seemed laid back. Her work looked effortless and with an extreme precision, clashing the image of the clumsy girl Adrien had always had. Maybe Chloe had been exaggerating, calling her Klutzy Mari all those years. It was nice to see Marinette at peace, happy, herself. But all that’s good must eventually come to an end.

“So, how’s your father?”

Adrien’s shoulders tensed at the mention of his father. Of course, Marinette hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, since she didn't know the whole ordeal with Gabriel. No one knew except Nino, afterall. Adrien took another bite of the croissant before answering.

“He’s doing fine. Business is booming, his name is spreading even more around the world. He’s getting models from everywhere. They’re practically begging to work for him. Well, until they know how it feels to work for Gabriel.”

Adrien couldn't resist slipping in the little comment. He sunk his teeth in the flaky croissant one again, frowning. Marinette looked dazed, almost as if she was daydreaming. As long as she wasn't dreaming of the wonder that was Gabriel, Adrien would be fine, but since he didn't possess any mindreading skilled, he wasn't completely sure as to what she was thinking out. Then again, she did have a slight admiration for Gabriel. This is something Adrien had always known, ever since he met the young girl. Marinette had always been a creative mind, creating things ranging between drawings to clothing to baking. She was amazing at everything she tried! She had always impressed Adrien.

“I wonder what it’s like, being the head of a fashion empire. You must have an idea, right? I heard from Alya that your father hired you during the summer to prepare you when it came the time to take over the family company.”

“I’d have to be family to run it.”

Adrien clasped his hands over his mouth, his eyes growing three sizes larger. He hadn't meant to let that comment out, but it was too late to take it back in. Marinette shot him a questioning look. Clearly, she was expecting an explanation from Adrien, having stopped her counter cleaning. The boy slumped down into his chair, refusing to meet her eyes. Shame came flowing in.

“He kicked me out this morning. Disowned. Adrien Agreste is dead.”

Marinette’s eyes filled with sadness. She pulled a chair across from Adrien, offering him another treat and coffee, which he refused. Her words of comfort were distant, Adrien’s head buzzing with the shame of losing his name and of venting to this girl he had lost all forms of contact with years ago. She deserved better than this pathetic scenario.

“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. You probably don't care about my situation, and I don't blame you. Even I'm annoyed with myself.”

Marinette vigorously shook her head, her eyes riveted on Adrien. “Absolutely not! I am by no means annoyed by you! And I most definitely care about what happen to my friends!”

Marinette was still calling Adrien a friend, and it broke his heart a little. This sweetheart of a girl was calling this pathetic excuse of a human her friend. She deserved better than him. She didn't deserve to deal with his family drama. Yet, she wouldn't let him go.

“Do you have a place to stay? Do you have enough money? I can ask my parents to help! We have a spare room, if you need a bit of time to adjust to your new life. And if you want, I can put in a good word for you. My parents are looking for a new baker helper, since I’m about to really be sunken in all my work: commissions, internships, my own personal projects and so on.”

Marinette went on and on about the multiple ways she could help him, and Adrien couldn't help but stare at her in disbelief. Well, disbelief that she was so willing to help him and shame that he needed the help of someone who had no reason to help other than pity. Obviously, Marinette was pitying him. She found him as pathetic as he knew he was. Why else would she want to help him?

Yet, there was something that threw Adrien off. Maybe it was the way she was playing nervously with her clothe she had been wiping the counters with, maybe it was the way her voice occasionally became more pitchy, especially when she said Adrien’s name, but there was something that was telling him that she didn't pity him. There was a little voice inside of Adrien that was telling him Marinette was helping him because she wanted to, because she was a generous beautiful soul that just wanted to be there to make the world a better place.

“Thank you, Marinette. I have a place to stay in, hopefully. Nino is supposed to call his landlord and let me stay there, but I don't know if he’ll do that today, since he’s in the USA.” Adrien forced a smile as Marinette nodded. “I think I can survive, but thank you again. I should get going. I have a big day ahead of me.”

Adrien pushed the chair, getting up. Marinette mimicked his movement, rising to her feet as well. She was smiling brightly at him, wishing him luck on his new adventure. It was crazy to think how this girl, an old classmate of Adrien’s, was more encouraging than his own father ever was. It was crazy to think that all it took for Adrien to realize how little support he had gotten growing up was to be disowned.

Adrien waved at Marinette, shooting her a “have a good day”, before making his way towards the door. But as the little bell chimed with the opening of the door, Adrien felt fingers wrap around his wrist. How did Marinette get so close to him so quickly? She was at the counter when he turned around!

“Before you go,” Marinette huffed, still grinning, “take this. It’s not much, but I’d like for us to stay in contact.”

Adrien stared at the piece of paper Marinette had handed him. 10 numbers were clearly written, Marinette’s name beautifully written right under. Adrien glanced back at Marinette, smiling back.

Marinette flushed pink, hurriedly letting go of the blond. “It’s if you’re interested in the job! Well, it’s actually my cell number, but if you want the job, you can call me and I can arrange something, if you want of course, because that’s up to you!”

“Thanks Marinette. I’ll think about it.”

Adrien chuckled a little before walking out of the bakery, the paper secured between his fingers. It was nice to think that he had a job offer without even trying. He’d call back if he was really desperate, not wanting to take advantage of his position as an acquaintance of the owners’ daughter. It would be unfair to the other applicants, who probably had more experience than he did.

“You can call me if you want to talk to a friend too, if you want!”

Adrien turned back to the sound of the voice. Marinette was leaning against the doorframe, her hands around her mouth to make her voice louder. She was still grinning, waving frantically at Adrien. Suddenly, Adrien saw the huge change between the old and the new Marinette. He liked the old Marinette, but he was starting to really like the new Marinette. He was liking the idea of having a friend nearby.

Adrien waved back, clenching the paper tighter, afraid to lose it to the wind. It was his new treasure. Nothing meant more to him than this paper did now.

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clarasfeelings · 2 years

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ok so i had egg drop soup, which is about 130 calories. i added some crispy wonton strips, which adds about 60 calories. so that’s 190 calories, but i’m going to round up to 300 just to be safe. i also had two bites of the baked treat my co worker gave me. no idea how many calories that could be, so i’m adding an extra 100 just to be safe. so 400 calories for the day.

i wanted to eat that whole treat so badly. my emotions are getting the better of me. i think louis is just sad too, but his sad is so much more reserved than mine so i always end up taking it personal. whatever. i still made him a really good looking BLT. crazy how much i can love someone even when im not feeling loved by them

another thing: louis mentioned i might need to take a semester off of school. at first, i was so fucking sad. my mind went to the worst case scenario and i pictured myself taking the semester off, then the next semester, and the next one, and just never going back. but i know that doesn’t have to be the case.

louis has been helping me financially a LOT since i started school, and he’s never made me feel bad about it. but i know it must be taking a toll on him. and honestly, i’ve been feeling so burnt out. i think a semester off from school could be really good for me. i could start setting money aside to pay for the next coming semester so it’s not such a burden all at once, and louis would be able to leave amazon to find a job that doesn’t make him so miserable without worrying that we won’t have enough money for all of our bills

and i think louis and i could really use some time to get back to each other. i know i love this guy, but when we’re both so busy and tired 90% of the time, we definitely don’t make enough time for each other. so maybe a semester off would be a good idea. it feels like a relief to even consider it

not to mention.... would be so cool to go back to school after having lost a bunch of weight. according to this weight loss calculator i found online, if i eat less than about 1600 calories a day until august, i could lose at LEAST 50 pounds. probably more. i think that would be a noticeable amount of weight.

anyway. feeling a little better. feeling hopeful

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bmwiid · 6 years

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NHL!Jack & Blogger!Bitty

The thing Jack loves about Bittle Bakes is that the recipes are so damn easy to follow. The YouTuber not only writes the ingredients down, but goes through each step no matter how many times he’s shown it before. Every time he starts a recipe he’ll go through everything you’ll need, from spoons to butter, and never stops half way through to add in something ‘extra’ he’d forgotten to mention. For Jack, that kind of planning and preparedness is ideal He loves it.

He doesn’t love the calorie intake, the sugar, the oil, the butter (so much butter, seriously) or how good everything looks at the end. He sighs as he watches Eric pull out another perfect pie from the oven and smile at the camera. It’s unfair. Jack has the blogger on mute, because he’s supposed to be watching tape, not sitting on his laptop watching Eric, but he allows himself the distraction. Tater is sleeping on the couch beside him, and Poots is texting his latest girlfriend, not even bothering to look at the screen where padded bodies are slamming each other into the walls.

Jack looks back at the laptop screen and Eric is chatting away, silently. He looks great, which Jack is pleased with. Although Eric didn’t ever talk about his love life, it wasn’t hard to work out what had been going on the last couple of months.

He’s started making decadent desserts and sinful amounts of chocolates - about three months ago. Then after about a month it was what Jack (and everyone else who followed Bitty Bakes) knew to be ‘date night’ dinners - small servings of delicate morsels that looked stunning when plated up, a delight to the senses. That lasted about two months before a tired eyed Eric had posted a ‘quick and easy meal for one’ which screamed Comfort Food. His eyes had stayed sad for a week or so, but the twinkles was back, and looking just as put together as before. Jack had seen the highs and lows with Poots almost every other month, so it was easy to tell that Eric had broken up with his partner. Jack didn’t want to say ‘boyfriend’ but he kinda thought…

Shitty would probably yell at him for making assumptions - but Eric was small, compact but fit in a way that made Jack think he knew his way around a gym, with these big brown eyes that seemed to glow in the light of the kitchens he worked in. His endearments to the camera felt warm and personable, and - yeah - a little gay?

Scrap that, Shitty would definitely yell at him.

Jack looked at the pie Eric was now cutting into, flakey crust and deep red filling that oozed out, staining the plate and the knife Eric worked with. He picked up his pen and looked at the pad of paper he had been working on, hockey plays in the margins.

He wondered if he could substitute the cherry filling for some kind of protein mix. His last attempt was… edible. Kinda. He ate it, at least. Tater had screwed up his face and only eaten the small slice Jack had handed him. Maybe he could improve. He got some nice comments on his blog though. Mostly on his photography of the pie.

His blog (Laurent Makes Food) wasn’t popular. In fact, he had 43 followers and he was sure 10 of them were spam bots, but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t the feedback he did it for.

“You need to focus on something.” His therapist has said, when she’s suggested it. “Perhaps a blog where you could write about something. Not Hockey or school.” She added, when he opened his mouth. He had just finished his online courses. He’d graduated 4 years too late, but he’d done it all the same. She knew he was at a loose end with what to do with his time now that he wasn’t studying. His nutritionist was on his back about his diet, and Jack just wanted to shut both of them up (he knew they were both doing their jobs, and doing them well, but that didn’t help him when he felt the pressure behind his eyes) and he’d said he was going to do a blog. About his diet.

It hadn’t been… difficult… but it had been time consuming. Which was actually exactly what he needed to fill his evenings. He made the food - taking pictures of the process, he took photographs of the food when it was finished, and he wrote about how he made the food - while he ate the food.

Normally all his meals were stone cold, because he found he enjoyed making sure the plate was shown to it’s best advantage, getting the angles correct for the best picture. He’d went and bought a fancy camera with different lenses and a light box and everything. He’d been experimenting with tilt photography. His meals were mostly cold. His pictures were lovely though.

The food was… well… he could eat it. That's what mattered, right?

Bitty was stuck. His viewers were already getting bored of the ‘cooking for one’ videos he had put up and he was shocked at just how astute a whole lot of strangers had been about his break up, considering he’d never mentioned - couldn’t mention it - on his channel. Maybe Harris was right - he really was just too obvious. Just thinking about his ex made Bitty want to punch something, hard. He hadn’t been able to tell anyone about Harris - the other man far too worried that the wrong people would find out, which Bitty wholeheartedly understood. But after two months of secret meetings and ‘dates’ where Harris would find a hundred other excuses to not go anywhere…

Bitty would be the first to admit that he’d been a little lust dumb when Harris had smiled and told him that there was no need to take him to a fancy restaurant when Eric could cook just as well as anyone in Georgia - and wasn’t it just much more romantic at home?

He rolled his eyes and clicked through pinterest without seeing anything that caught his attention. He really was a dumb blond sometimes - Harris wasn’t even that subtle about the whole closeted thing. Eric was out - he was out the moment he moved out of his childhood bedroom and although his momma sometimes tripped up over the ‘nice girl’ he was supposed to meet one day, his father was… a rock. It was Coach who introduced him to Harris, actually, which was nice and unexpected and made Eric's heart hurt in a good way.

Harris was one of Coaches ‘boys’ who made it big. He was a good looking guy, all brawny and tan, and Eric knew the moment that they’d exchanged glances that he was interested in Eric. Which was nice. And the sex was pretty good. But the pressure of being a Queer footballer was just…

Eric had expected them the break up. He’d expected it - but it still hurt. Especially because Harris had blamed him for being the problem. Because Eric was too obviously gay. Like Eric was wrong for liking Beyonce or baking or bow ties.

He was getting himself all riled up again - which solved nothing - when he saw it.

His pie.

But not his pie. Some… frankensteined version of his pie. He prided himself on that distinctive lattice - and someone had butchered it.

The tiny baby jesus himself could not have stopped Bitty from clicking the link.

Laurent Makes Food. Well, at least it was descriptive, Bitty admitted to himself. He’d seen a lot of blogs with titles that gave zero indication what the actual blog was about, but, okay - Laurent apparently makes food. Or at least tried to make food, bless his heart. It was a basic (ha) blog with some absolutely stunning pictures of terrible looking food. The text was… dry.

Oh, the poor dear had actually linked Erics recipe too - and then explained why he had decided to destroy a 5 time county fair winning recipe because… his nutritionist… oh.

Oh.

That was interesting. He was trying take make healthy versions of Erics food. Because (he preened a little) they looked so good but he wasn’t allowed to eat half the stuff in them.

Erics brain mentally calculated the supplies in his kitchen and frowned. Hmm… He had time to pop along to Costco and buy some more butter and a few extras… it wouldn’t be hard. He’d fed a few footballers in his time - low fat, high protein diets on a larger scale…

you can buy me a ko-fi here: http://ko-fi.com/A25352XU if you like!

#check please #fanfiction

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satopradhanvision · 3 years

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Three Reasons You Should Not Consume Sugar!

Refined sugar is one the most widely utilized substances in an Indian household. It is utilized in a variety of foods to sweeten food items as well as a preservative, making it difficult to eliminate. It is a crystallized form of sucrose that comes from sugarcane or beets. It is extracted following the harvesting of sugarcane, and then boiled to decrease the amount of moisture. As moisture levels decrease the natural sucrose in the juice starts to crystallize and condense.

White sugar is a source of "empty calories" in the form of glucose, with none of the other nutrients. Simple glucose easily gets absorption into bloodstreams and causes a myriad of ailments within the body. A study released by the Statista Research Department confirms that Indians consumed 27 million tonnes of sugar white in the year 2020. We now need to learn more about the negatives that sugar consumption has on our health.

The Reasons to Stop Consuming Sugar

The increase in prevalence of Obesity

Presently, India has more than 135 million obese individuals and more than 39 million children below five years old are obese or overweight. The primary reason for this is the intake of sugar. Although, many of us claim that we consume only one or two teaspoons of sugar per daily, yet most people are unaware of the amount of sugar they're consuming each day. On average, people consume 22 teaspoons each day, and a lot of this is the form of hidden sugar. Foods that are high in energy, sweets baked goods, sweets from the oven and beverages with added sugar are the most common sources of sugar added. Even savory items like bread chips, tomato sauce, as well as protein bar, are loaded with sugar! Sugars added to foods can be hidden on nutrition labels by being listed under different names, including the palm sugars, agave nectar cane sugar, corn syrup and so on. Whatever the name sugar is still sugar and it has many adverse consequences.

Let's explore what happens when children consume foods that are high in energy, such as fats and sugar. Sugar is a sugar-based carbohydrate which gives quick energy to the body. If you consume more energy-dense foods, especially rich in sugars and fats, but don't expend enough energy by exercising and doing physical activities. In this scenario, the majority of the excess energy is stored in the body in the form of fat. The fat is stored in the intestines, which can cause an rise in weight or obesity. In the past few years, overweight has been three times more common in all areas of society.

Below are some alarming details:

In 2010 3.4 million dead were reported due to obesity and overweight.

In 2016 1.9 billion obese adults had been identified by WHO across the globe and 650 million were obese.

In the year 2019, around 38.2 million children under 5 years of age were overweight or obese.

Greater Risk of Diabetes

The body's inability to effectively regulate sugar levels. The pancreas does not produce enough insulin to control the higher blood sugar levels or the cells are unable to handle the production of insulin, or both. A rise in blood sugar over time could raise the chance of developing heart disease as well as kidney or nerve damage. Numerous studies have found that those who drink sweetened drinks with sugar have a 25% higher likelihood to develop type 2 diabetes.

Addictive Properties

Why do we want sugar? What is the most often you feel it's acceptable to indulge in sweets and sweets? Are you finding it hard to stop eating after having for a short time?

Let's find out the secret of it all!

In addition to the negative effects of sugar consumption, numerous studies have also revealed that sugar can cause the same addiction as street drugs, and has identical effects on brain function. The consumption of sweets triggers the reward system in the brain and produces a large amount of the dopamine hormone. You feel a gratifying "high" when we do and are likely to experience it again. That's why we desire ever more sweets. If we repeat this behavior over and over our brains adapt to release less of dopamine. The only way to feel the similar "high feeling" over and over again will be to do the same behavior with increasing frequency and in greater amounts. This is why it's so difficult to not indulge in more sweets that lead to a binge eating disorder, which is usually followed by toxic feelings of shame,

A single drop of blood sugar could cause brain damage and cause a decrease in brain function as well as a decrease in attention and memory. Additionally, research shows that people who consume a lot of consumption of sugar have experienced increased feelings of anxiety and sadness. And it is! The sugar we consume makes us its slave!

Alternatives For Refined Sugar

Jaggery Powder

Natural Dates Kimia

Raisins

Dried Stevia Leaves