#(they still will but it’ll look dumber)

[colorisbyshe]

“The shooter has been caught and he might be conservative!!” Still a win, let all of the right wing gun nuts go after CEOs and not do mass shootings of innocent people who just so happen to exist in public

Also maybe demonstrate that hating privatized health care is a both sides of the spectrum thing so politicians can actually pretend to care about it

Like… a win is a win is a win

[ironskyfinder]

Pink Mindset IV

Just when you think you’ve done it, you find another way to put more pink into your life.

It starts in the morning, when you wake up. Before you check socials, before you check the news or the weather - edge, like a good girl should. 

Because, really - you don’t need to check the weather, you’re going to dress to put yourself on display, regardless of the cold. As for the news - don’t be silly, a girl like you wouldn’t really understand it anyway. Checking your socials is important - but it feels so much better to watch your besties’ stories and reels while you rub, doesn’t it? 

Now that you’ve had your edge, you’re ready to get up and get ready for the day. Which means it’s time to shower - and, of course, time to tease yourself more! - but don’t get too distracted or you’ll end up grinding into your palm, all day…again.

All that’s easy, though. Now the tricky part - after you finish getting ready (and edge a little), and finish getting dressed (and rub a little), and finish getting makeup on (and grind a little), you still need to keep your brain in a pink haze while you go about your day.

But fortunately, that’s easy!

We talked before about trying to use small words, and using dumber words, all so that no one mistakes you for a girl who has any brains at all. We’ve talked about using your girlwords, and other ways to advertise that you do best when things are mansplained and dumbed-down for you. Don’t be afraid to act your IQ, whether that’s a 32B or a 38GG, and remember to giggle whenever you don’t understand something.

But all of that requires that you focus - and that’s not what edged-out bimbos do best. So let’s talk about what you can do to fill your brain with pink, without having to think about it!

Find a few simple and innocent and girly things - like applying lipgloss, mindlessly checking your phone, giggling at nothing  - and make it a pink routine. Make it a part of every routine you have that makes you pink; every time you edge, if you need a break, play through your pink routine; when you have a blonde moment and your brain feels empty, play through your pink routine. Whenever you spend an extra long time on your makeup, whenever you get a new pair of heels, play through your pink routine If you stay consistent about doing that over and over, your pink routine will help keep you in the right mindset, whenever you do it!

Of course, we’ve already touched on the obvious and oft-repeated ‘turn off auto-correct’ - and that’s a great way to really make it clear and show off exactly how brainless you are, and every time you go to type out a text you’ll be reminded that you’re just a dummy! If that’s not enough, another way to keep your brain pink is to make your lock screen a selfie - one you take right after a hard edge - so that every time you look at your phone, you remember how great it felt! And if mindlessly checking your phone is a part of your pink routine, that only adds to how much better it’ll make you feel!

For even more of a pink routine, every time you play through it more than ten times a day, give yourself a little treat!

[riaki]

sick days ! gojo x reader ‧˚ - take a soda break…!

the rain outside your window is incessant.

it slides down the foggy glass panes in small rivulets that merge together and break apart, like the people outside on different paths of life. a sea of umbrellas moves like liquid in the streets below; a school of fish in a rainy city, under those fluorescent neons that shine like vibrant coral in the puddles of rain on the concrete.

there’s beauty even in the humid showers of tokyo, reflected in the broken lights and flickering signs; those food stalls full of warm life and fancy clothing stores that you always go in just to not buy anything, and best of all— the vending machines that dot the map.

watching raindrops race was one of your favorite hobbies as a kid. even now, you find yourself absentmindedly tracking the movements; the erratic nature of the blurry droplets as they slide down the glass makes you wonder if there’s hidden ridges on the panels that guide those watery paths.

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by another bout of coughing; that dry, itching feeling in your throat that you just can’t get rid of. drinking water to quell the cough has the same effect as telling your study buddy to stay focused for longer than five minutes. gojo is playing something on his phone again; a rhythm game, by the way he curses under his breath every time his fingers stutter and miss a beat.

you cover your mouth with your elbow, trying to expel the ghost dust that makes your breath hitch every time you try to speak, and he glances up at you, shifting in his seat. his lanky legs are cramped beneath the desktop; his frame doesn’t fit in your room. he has to duck when he enters, lest he hit his head like the first time he came over. like you, he has his head resting in his elbows. unlike you, he isn't ill with a fever so hot it burns cold and the stuffiness in your voice, and he also isn't studying.

"you sure you still wanna be reviewing? this exam doesn't really matter, y'know." gojo remarks, peering up at you from his arm pillow. "you should probably take a break, ’cus you look like shit."

he grins cheekily, pushing a pile of his papers and notes to the edge of the desk, where eraser shavings and broken bits of lead from when he couldn't solve a math problem are crammed. there's scratches and ink stains on the desk, a reminder of how you'd accidentally scribbled past the page’s edge in a sickness induced delirium. it’ll leave permanent marks; at this point you’re convinced you’re writing yourself a secret letter to the future. have you confessed to gojo yet? that’s what it’ll say. right now, it just says something unintelligible.

hopefully you’re still literate in the future, but you’re half-convinced you’re getting dumber every moment you spend caged in with this dunce of a genius.

you lean back in your chair, pulling your knee up to your chest. your pencil falls to the desk with a faint clack, soft yellow lamplight washing your faces warm as gojo scoots closer and peers over your shoulder at your progress. he has a pandora’s box of knowledge in that blue-tinted brain of his; he just refuses to apply it. it’s cocky, spoiled ego in the finest. you should hate him for it.

he snickers. "you're dumb."

"you missed forty-three notes." you countered, shooting him a glare as you point at the disappointed looking character next to a review of the stats from the song he was playing on his phone. gojo grimaces, pulling back like a sad little dog, floppy white hair covering his eyes.

"i was playing with my thumbs."

you ignore him, leaning against the wooden desk before hiding your face in your elbows again and letting out a long sigh. your hot breath curls up in the confines of your body, making you recoil slightly; uncomfortably. heat is the last thing you need with the fever you’re pretty sure you’re running.

"i hate being sick. and i hate studying. can we please give up?" you complained, glancing up at him out of the corner of your eye. your hair obscures your vision, so you can only see a faint glint of amusement in his azure irises as he studies you for a moment before scooting his chair back and standing up. without another word, he leaves the room.

wow. okay.

a moment of silence passes as you sit there, lamenting over your runny nose and the way you sound like you're about to cough a lung up every time you breathe, until you hear the soft sounds of his feet padding on the floorboards coupled with what you presume is ice clinking against glass, signaling his return. you lift your head, blinking blearily. each time you breathe in through your nose, your nostrils burn like dry ice pressed against your skin, only adding to your misery. the dreary weather outside isn't helping much, either.

the cold glass leaves a dark stain on the table, an uneven circle of condensation that soothes the aching in your fingers when your sick skin makes contact. gojo pops the can open, and you watch as he picks the glass up, tilting it to the side to pour the soda in.

“why are you holding it like that?” you asked curiously, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lean against the table. he glances down at you, a cheeky, tiny smile gracing his lips. the sound of bubbles fizzling and popping fills the cozy, cramped room; that cool, sweet liquid seems like the only thing that’ll cure your nasty cough.

“pouring it like this prevents the bubbles from escaping. you like it fizzy, don’t you?” he grins.

condensation clings to his fingers like morning dew upon flower petals as he sets the glass down. you watch the ice cubes bobble about in the soda, clinking against the cup like a mini wind chime. you’re sore from sitting in the same place with terrible posture for three hours, and there’s an ache between your fingers from gripping your pencil tight while you write.

you take a sip from the glass, letting out a contented sigh as the refreshing liquid drains down your scratchy throat. it’s not lemon honey tea for a cold, but it certainly helps. next to you, gojo takes his seat again, grabbing the throw blanket on your bed and tossing it over his legs before he grabs his pencil again. he’s using one of those short pencils, shaved down to a stub from months of use. you always offer him a mechanical pencil, but he refuses.

you sit there, waiting for him to get back to work before you realize he’s staring at you, legs crossed beneath the fuzzy blanket.

you frowned, shifting to face him as you lean against the desk. “what?”

“you’ll take care of me if i get sick too, right?” he tilts his head, like a curious bird.

“why would you get sick?”

you’re too relate to react when he makes a mad grab for your glass of soda, holding it out of your reach. a few droplets spill out and spatter onto your notebook, forcing a sigh from your lips.

“gojo…” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your fingers and praying for strength.

he just smirks, taking a lengthy sip. you watch his adam’s apple bob as a bit of condensation builds on his chin and trickles down his throat.

“you know what? i dont feel like studying either.” he announces, setting the glass back down on the wooden table with a loud thunk.

“so? what do you wanna do?” you huffed petulantly.

“download project sekai, and we can do a co-op live.”

“…you’re kidding.”

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 10

The next day, you and the kids decided to drag Marshall to the ice skating rink. The house was alive with energy as the girls excitedly bounced around, Jackie in your arms, clearly excited for the day. Marshall was still in his sweatpants and hoodie, clearly not in the mood for a day on the ice.

"Come on, Marshall!" Hailie said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "It’s going to be so much fun! You *have* to go."

Marshall shot her a deadpan look from the couch, the remote control still in his hand. "Yeah, fun for you guys. I’ve got a date with my couch and a blanket. No ice skating involved."

Stevie chimed in, grinning. "But, Dad, think about it! We could all fall on the ice together, you can laugh at us, and then we could all go get hot chocolate afterward." She raised her eyebrows at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, all the things you love."

Marshall scoffed, holding up his coffee mug as if that was his ultimate argument. "Hot chocolate at home. I don’t need to risk breaking something just to go *falling* in front of a bunch of strangers."

Alaina rolled her eyes, crossing her arms dramatically. "Dad, don’t be such a wimp. It’s not like you’re gonna be the only adult there. It’s a family activity!"

Marshall glared at her. "Oh yeah? And why is *that* the argument? So I can look even dumber next to all of you?"

You chuckled, sitting next to him on the couch, cradling Jackie in your arms. "Marshall, come on. It’ll be fun. Besides, you *know* you’re going to get in the rink eventually. You can’t resist."

Marshall narrowed his eyes at you. "Oh, I can resist, trust me. You’re not gonna talk me into this one."

"Just think," Hailie said with a mischievous grin, "you could be *the cool dad* who shows us all how it’s done. Maybe even pull off some sick moves!"

Marshall snorted. "Sick moves? The only sick move I’m pulling off is avoiding that rink and getting some peace and quiet."

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Please? It’ll be fun, I promise."

Marshall sighed dramatically, looking over at the kids who were practically bouncing in excitement. "I’m just saying, I don’t even *know* how to skate. I’m going to fall on my ass and make an idiot of myself."

"Exactly!" Stevie said, laughing. "That’s what will make it fun. We can all laugh together when you fall flat on your face."

"Isn’t that the point of family activities?" Alaina added with a grin. "To make *memories*—and laugh at dad the whole time."

Marshall groaned, sinking further into the couch. "I really don’t want to be your comedy show today."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Come on, Marshall. It’s one day. One day of laughter, hot chocolate, and not *that* much falling. You can handle it."

Marshall gave you a long, exaggerated stare. "One day, huh? I’m really regretting saying ‘yes’ to this now."

"Come on, Marshall!" Hailie said, grinning ear to ear. "You’re going. We already packed everything. You’re coming, whether you like it or not."

Alaina raised an eyebrow, her tone suddenly serious. "And don’t make us drag you. You know we will."

"Alright, alright!" Marshall groaned, holding up his hands in defeat. "Fine. I’ll go. But I swear to god, if I fall and break something, you’re all on your own for getting me to the hospital."

You laughed, looking at the girls, who were celebrating with exaggerated high fives and fist bumps. "See? Was that so hard?"

Marshall stood up, still looking a bit grumpy but reluctantly heading for the door. "I’m gonna regret this, I know it."

"You’ll have fun," you said, following him to the door with Jackie in your arms. "Trust me, I’ll make it worth it."

Marshall rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. "Fine. I’m going. But if I end up on the floor with my dignity in a puddle, I’m blaming all of you."

"Deal," you replied, winking. "Now, let’s go, before the rink closes or you change your mind again."

As you all piled into the car, Marshall grumbling the entire way, you couldn’t help but smile. You knew he’d end up having fun in the end—even if it meant some spectacular falls and plenty of laughs at his expense.

-

The car ride to the ice skating rink was filled with laughs and excitement. The kids were practically bouncing in their seats, their energy contagious. You were sitting in the front seat with Marshall, who was still trying to act like he didn’t want to go. But his foot was tapping to the beat of the music on the radio, so you knew deep down he was starting to get into the idea.

"Alright, alright, but if I fall and break something, I’m making you all pay for my hospital bills," Marshall muttered, rolling down his window a little, pretending to be annoyed.

"Oh, please, Marshall, you’re not going to break anything," Hailie said from the backseat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You’re basically indestructible. Just don’t go trying to do any tricks or anything."

Stevie added with a grin, "Yeah, no jumping jacks on the ice, Dad. Let’s keep it simple."

Marshall let out a long sigh but couldn’t suppress a chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll just keep it safe. No ‘sick moves,’ as you all call them."

"Exactly!" Alaina piped up from the back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just skate, don’t try to become an Olympic athlete. You’ll do fine."

You turned around, giving the kids a playful glare. "Don’t give him too much crap. You all know he’s going to be a pro in no time."

Marshall shot you a look, raising an eyebrow. "A pro? Really?"

"Of course! With all your skills, how could you not be?" you teased, winking at him.

The kids giggled in unison, but Marshall just shook his head, smiling despite himself. "I’m going to be the one out there holding onto the boards, trying not to fall on my face."

Stevie leaned forward between the seats, grinning. "We’ll make sure to take lots of pictures, don’t worry."

"Oh great, pictures of me looking like a disaster," Marshall groaned. "Just what I need."

"Hey, you’ve already got the *cool dad* vibe," Hailie said, her voice full of mischief. "You can’t lose that by falling a few times."

Marshall glanced at you in the front seat, rolling his eyes but still smiling. "Great. I’ll be ‘cool dad’ until I wipe out and get stuck on the ice like an idiot."

"You’re going to be fine," you reassured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "And besides, it’ll be funny."

"Right," he said with a sarcastic laugh, but he couldn’t help but smile back at you. "As long as you’re all entertained, that’s all that matters."

Alaina leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. "You’re going to *love* it, I promise. I mean, who doesn’t want to feel like they’re gliding on air?"

Marshall raised an eyebrow. "That’s a very optimistic way of putting it. I’m just trying to stay upright."

"You got this, Dad," Hailie said with a thumbs-up, clearly trying to boost his confidence.

As you pulled into the parking lot, the rink came into view, all lit up with twinkling lights. You could already hear the sound of skates cutting the ice and people laughing in the distance. Marshall took a deep breath, clearly resigned to his fate.

"Alright, let’s get this over with," he muttered, but there was a playful edge to his voice. "I’m going to need a lot of hot chocolate after this."

"Don’t worry," you said, smiling as you reached for the door. "We’ve got plenty waiting for us afterward."

Marshall just grinned. "If I don’t fall, I’ll call that a win."

The kids all piled out of the car, ready to hit the rink, and Marshall followed, still looking a little uncertain but with a hint of excitement in his eyes. You all made your way toward the rink, the sound of laughter growing louder, and you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy yourself.

It was going to be a fun day, and even if Marshall did end up with a few bruises, you knew he’d have a blast anyway.

You strapped Jackie into the front carrier on Hailie’s chest, and he giggled as she adjusted the straps. "Look at you, little man," Hailie said, grinning down at him. "You’re going to have a front-row seat to all the chaos."

Jackie let out a small squeal of delight, clearly amused by the whole situation.

As you all began putting on your ice skates, there was a flurry of laughter and friendly bickering. Marshall was trying to lace his skates while complaining, "Why does this always take forever? I’m going to be the last one out there, aren’t I?"

Hailie laughed, watching him struggle. "You’ve been tying your shoes for, what, thirty years now? I think you can handle it."

"Yeah, but skates are different," Marshall muttered, half to himself. "They're like mini straightjackets for your feet. Who thought this was a good idea?"

"Honestly, I think you’re just procrastinating because you’re scared to go out there and fall," Alaina teased, pulling her laces tight with ease.

Marshall looked up at her with an exaggerated look of shock. "Me? Scared? I’m just taking my time, making sure I’m *prepared.* You’ll see me gliding on that ice like a pro." He gave you a look that said, *I hope.*

"Sure, sure," you teased, tying your own skates. "You’ll be the one leading us all around the rink in no time."

Alaina shot him a mischievous grin. "You can just follow me. I’ll show you how it’s done, old man."

Marshall gave her a mock glare. "Old man, huh? Just wait, kid. I’m going to be the one showing you how it’s really done."

Hailie rolled her eyes but was still holding Jackie, who was now giggling at the noise and movement around him. "Can we just get out there already? You guys are taking forever."

"Alright, alright," Marshall said with a dramatic sigh. "Let’s get this over with."

Finally, everyone had their skates on, and you all stood up to head to the rink. Jackie cooed happily as Hailie gently swayed him, her arms still wrapped around his little body.

"You sure he’s okay there?" Marshall asked, looking over at Jackie in concern.

Hailie smiled. "He’s fine, Dad. He loves it. Look at him!"

Jackie’s eyes were wide with excitement, his little hands clutching at Hailie’s jacket as he giggled again.

"You’re not scared, are you?" you asked Marshall, raising an eyebrow. "You’re *definitely* not going to fall, right?"

"Of course not," Marshall said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he took his first cautious step toward the rink.

You all made your way over to the rink entrance, with Jackie still in Hailie’s arms, his giggles filling the air as you stepped onto the ice. Marshall was the last to step onto the rink, clearly trying to figure out his footing, as everyone else slid gracefully, or at least with less hesitation, across the ice.

"See, it’s not so bad!" you called to him, watching as he gripped the side of the rink for support. "You’ve got this!"

Marshall gave you a playful glare but was clearly trying to hide the nervous grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I’ll get there. Just wait for it."

You couldn’t help but laugh as he started inching his way around the rink, his balance still shaky but improving with each step. You turned back to the others, who were already making their way around the rink with ease, Jackie still happily tucked in Hailie’s chest.

"This is going to be fun," you said, watching Marshall slowly gain confidence.

"Oh, it’s already a blast," Hailie said, gliding past you with Jackie in her arms, her smile wide. "Look at him!" She gestured to Marshall, who was now attempting to glide—*attempting* being the key word.

"I can’t wait to see how he does when he gets his *skating legs*," Alaina said, looking over her shoulder at you. "This is going to be good."

You chuckled. "Give him time. He’s got this."

The laughter and chaos continued as everyone glided around the rink, even Marshall starting to get the hang of it, despite the occasional wobble. You, however, weren’t as graceful as Hailie, who had already mastered the art of skating with ease. You kept a tight grip on the edge of the rink, trying to keep your balance.

"Careful, careful!" Marshall called out as you felt yourself losing balance for a moment, your feet slipping out from under you. Before you could catch yourself, you were on the ice, landing with a thud.

You groaned, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you burst out laughing. "Well, that’s one way to do it."

Marshall skated over quickly, trying to help you up but struggling a bit himself. "See, this is why I said no ice skating! It’s dangerous!"

You took his hand, pulling yourself up with a chuckle. "You’re just mad because I beat you to the fall."

"Hey!" he said, playfully nudging you as you got back on your feet. "It’s all part of the learning process."

As soon as you got your balance again, one of the girls—this time, Alaina—lost her footing, tumbling backward onto the ice with a loud "whoa!" and a laugh. "I swear this rink has a thing for making me fall!" she said, sitting up and brushing the ice off her pants.

Stevie, skating nearby, held out a hand to help her up, grinning. "That’s two for the day, and we’re just getting started."

"How do you all make it look so easy?" Marshall asked, watching as Hailie skated effortlessly around the rink. "I’m struggling to stay upright, and you guys are gliding like pros."

"Hey, I’m struggling too," Alaina replied, finally standing back up and adjusting her skates. "Just give it time. You’ll get it."

Marshall shot her a look of mock disbelief. "Yeah, time. That’s all I need."

You grinned as you finally managed to skate a little more freely, enjoying the feel of the ice beneath your feet. "Look at you, Marshall. You’re already better than you were five minutes ago."

He shot you a sarcastic look, but there was a spark of pride in his eyes. "Well, at least I’m not the only one falling today."

You chuckled, gliding past him and making your way toward Hailie, who was skating circles around everyone. "You’re getting there, I promise. Just a little more confidence."

"Confidence, huh?" Marshall raised an eyebrow as he started to skate behind you, trying to keep up. "I think I need a whole lot of it."

Just as he finished his sentence, Stevie, who had been showing off her tricks, slipped, landing flat on her back with an exaggerated gasp. "I swear this rink is cursed!" she laughed, sitting up and rubbing her backside.

Alaina skated over to her. "You good?"

"Yeah, just my dignity’s bruised," Stevie said with a wink, standing up and brushing herself off. "But I’ll survive."

Marshall couldn’t help but laugh. "I’m not the only one, huh?"

"Not by a long shot," Hailie called over, still effortlessly skating. "But you all look cute out there. I’m sure you’ll be pros by the end of the day."

Marshall smirked, but you could see he was starting to enjoy himself, despite the falls. He pushed off from the wall, trying to glide on his own, but of course, just as he was gaining a little confidence, his feet slid out from under him. He fell backward, letting out a loud "Whoa!" and landing in a less-than-graceful heap.

Everyone laughed, even Marshall, who now lay flat on his back, arms spread out dramatically. "Alright, I think I’m done," he said, holding his arms up in mock surrender. "I can’t even blame it on lack of confidence anymore."

"You’re not getting out of this that easily," you teased, skating over to help him up. "We’re all in this together."

As you helped him back onto his feet, Jackie, still happily resting in Hailie’s carrier, let out a giggle as if he was in on the joke. "Well, at least someone’s having a good time," you said, smiling at the baby who was enjoying every moment of the chaos.

Marshall grinned up at you. "Yeah, yeah. I’m just happy I don’t look as dumb as Stevie over there," he said, pointing to her as she tried skating again, only to slip and fall once more.

"Hey, I’m *trying*!" Stevie called out, laughing as she got back up. "It’s a process!"

Marshall laughed, helping you glide forward again. "Alright, alright, let’s see if I can at least make it to the end of the rink without dying."

"You’ve got this, dad," Hailie called, skating alongside you, Jackie still giggling in her arms.

-

Hailie was gliding effortlessly across the rink, clearly showing off a trick she had been practicing. With a mischievous grin, she picked up speed, then spun in a tight circle, lifting one leg into the air and holding it gracefully as she twirled around. The crowd of skaters around her parted a little, impressed by her skill, and she executed the move flawlessly, coming to a stop in front of everyone.

"Did you see that?" Hailie grinned, looking over at you, Marshall, and the rest of the group. "Pretty cool, right?"

But before anyone could respond, Jackie, who had been cooing happily in Hailie’s arms, suddenly froze, his eyes widening as he watched her perform the trick. His giggles turned into loud, scared cries. The sudden movement and speed had startled him, and his little face scrunched up as he started to wail uncontrollably.

Hailie’s face immediately dropped, her hands tightening around Jackie as she looked down at him. "Oh no, I didn’t mean to scare him!" she said, her voice full of concern. She quickly adjusted him in her arms, trying to calm him down, but Jackie’s cries only got louder.

Marshall, who had been watching the whole scene unfold, immediately skated over to Hailie, his earlier nervousness about skating forgotten as he reached for Jackie. "Hey, buddy, it’s okay," he said softly, holding his arms out to take him. "We’re not going to hurt you."

Jackie’s tiny hands reached out toward Marshall, and within seconds, Marshall scooped him up, cradling him gently in his arms. "Shhh, it’s okay, little man. Daddy’s got you," he whispered, rocking him back and forth.

You skated up to them, concern in your eyes as you watched Marshall try to comfort Jackie. "Poor guy," you said softly. "That trick really scared him."

"I didn’t think it would freak him out like that," Hailie said, feeling guilty. "He was fine before, but I guess I wasn’t thinking."

Marshall gave Hailie a reassuring smile, though his attention was fully on Jackie, who had stopped crying but was still sniffling a little. "It’s alright. I think he just needs a minute. I’ll hold him for a bit, keep him calm."

"That’s the thing about little kids, though," you said, watching Marshall carefully bounce Jackie in his arms. "Everything’s a little scarier when you’re that tiny."

Marshall looked down at Jackie, his face softening as he gently rubbed his back. "You’re okay, buddy," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We’ll stick to the easy stuff from now on, huh?"

He put Jackie back in Hallie’s carrier as he gripped her jacket.

-

As the group continued to skate around, Marshall finally found a moment of balance—only for it to slip away just as quickly. One moment, he was gliding along, the next, his feet shot out from under him, and he tumbled forward. His arms flailed in a wild attempt to catch himself, but he ended up crashing into the nearest skater—who happened to be Stevie.

"Whoa!" Stevie yelled as Marshall’s weight hit her, sending both of them sprawling onto the ice. The rest of the group, too close to avoid the chaos, found themselves caught in the domino effect. Hailie, Alaina, and you, all suddenly fell in a tangled mess, unable to stay upright with the sudden pileup.

Jackie, however, was completely unaffected, still giggling happily as Hailie adjusted his carrier to keep him safe.

"Marsh!" you groaned from beneath the pile of skaters, trying to move but only getting more tangled with every attempt. "You really did it this time."

"You—" Alaina started, holding her head as she struggled to sit up, "—you *really* fell on all of us, huh?"

Marshall, now completely surrounded by the pile of bodies, let out an exaggerated sigh. "I didn’t mean to, alright? It just... happened. It’s all physics, people!" He attempted to sit up but only ended up knocking into someone else.

"Physics?" Hailie grumbled, pushing herself up from the ice, rubbing her elbow. "You didn’t just slip, you took us all down with you. That’s more like an *avalanche* effect."

Stevie, who was still laughing despite the pain, looked at Marshall with a sarcastic grin. "Nice job, man. At least now we all know how *not* to do it."

You, finally managing to get to your knees, shot him a playful, yet annoyed, look. "I knew I should’ve skated ahead and left you to your 'smooth moves.'"

Marshall’s face was turning a little red, and he ran his hands through his hair. "Alright, alright. I get it. I’m a disaster on the ice."

Jackie’s giggles filled the air as Hailie, still holding him securely, smiled at how carefree he was. "Well, at least someone’s having a good time," she said, the tiny baby’s laughter making the whole situation feel a little less disastrous.

"I swear, if we ever do this again, I’m putting you on the ice with a helmet," you teased, standing up and brushing yourself off. "You’ve earned it today."

Marshall grinned sheepishly. "I’ll take the helmet. And maybe some training wheels."

Alaina crossed her arms and shook her head in mock disbelief. "At least you didn’t break anything. Just our pride."

You all finally managed to pull yourselves together, sitting on the nearby benches, bruised and laughing despite everything. Jackie, completely unaware of the chaos, was still happily gurgling, his little hands reaching for the air as he enjoyed the attention from everyone.

"Well, this was fun," you said, looking over at Marshall, still half-heartedly rubbing his shoulder. "Despite... everything."

Marshall glanced at you, his grin a little sheepish. "Yeah, sure. I’ll just... watch from here next time."

"You’re *never* allowed to go skating without me again," you joked, leaning against him as everyone started to recover.

"I swear, next time, we’ll just play a board game at home," he said, rubbing his back as though he was already defeated. "It can’t go this wrong."

"Famous last words, Marshall," Hailie teased, still holding Jackie, who was staring up at the lights above the rink.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Despite the falls, the bruises, and the chaos, it was exactly what you needed—a little laughter, a little family time, and a reminder that not everything had to be perfect to be fun.

[dosesofcommonsense]

Gotta remember, between the media and the manipulated education system, most people have been intentionally sabatoged and made dumber. They lack common sense because it’s been held back. When you realize that, it’ll help you better understand the people still watching the news who struggle to identify the enemy within…like this gal.

As for the real her story, Stormy owes Trump money. As for who paid Stormy, you’d have had to have paid attention during the trial. Michael Cohen admitted to embezzlement; he also admitted to paying Stormy. Stormy has admitted (in more than 1 letter) that she never had sex with Trump. So, reading between the lines…Cohen embezzled money. Stormy never slept with Trump. Cohen needed the money because he had the affair with Stormy.

Taking Trump to court to prevent him running or sandbagging his campaign makes Cohen, Stormy, and the DAs office who coordinated the hit all enemies of the people.

This gal is not an enemy. Her doctors are enemies, and we’ve been battling doctors like this for years. This girl is a bad ass, and it looks her daughter is too!!

Jason Vale had doctors troubles for different reasons. He beat cancer. Sounds like Big Pharma should be asking for his secrets. He didn’t hold them back. He tried to help people and went to jail for it. Big Pharma doesn’t do well with competition. If you notice, Jason’s method takes out Big Pharma - who has yet to cure a cancer patient without destroying their immune system so they die from the common cold.

Jason battled Big Pharma before AI and the internet expanded. No way he’d have survived that long in this internet. While AI might be relatively good, there’s a whole lot of bad that comes with it too. Meta glasses can dox people you see as you walk. It gives criminals tons of personal info they can exploit.

The obvious enemy we all fight is BIG GOVERNMENT. BIG government only gets bigger. The only way to stopping is to drain the swamp and remake the government into what it should have been all along: By the people and FOR the people.

Bring back the Constitutional Republic!

[rosieshipper]

The Bad Ending

Making this an official post so it can be seen in tags

This little angst idea was inspired by the post!

Trigger warning! ⚠️Child Death⚠️ If this is upsetting to you do not read!

The sound of pounding footsteps rumbled the ground as Bill had come crawling back to the main room where Stan and Ford were being held in their cage. Clutched tightly in one of his hands was Dipper and Mabel, the two kids squirming around desperately to try and get out of his grasp. “Alright Ford! Time's up! I got the kids!” He shouted as he stepped up to the cage, the older twins looking on in horror

“I think I’m gonna kill one of them now just for the heck of it!” Bill suddenly shouted as he shifted his one eyed gaze to the kids struggling in his grasp. His eye changed between the symbols of a pine tree and a shooting star as he decided who he wanted to kill. “Eenie Meenie Miney…” Just as his eye landed on the shooting star, he held his free hand up to snap his fingers. “YOU!” But just before Bill could snap his fingers, Ford suddenly spoke up

“WAIT! I surrender!” He shouted to Bill, staring up at him from his cage. Bill looked back towards Ford when he finally spoke but didn’t loosen his grip on Mabel and Dipper. “Good choice.” He said as he stepped closer to the cage. Suddenly Stan grabbed Ford by the jacket and began to shout at him. “Don’t do it Ford! It’ll destroy the universe!” He shouted at him and when “Stan” grabbed Ford by the jacket, Bill noticed a very important detail

Last time he checked, Ford’s dumber copy didn’t have six fingers. That’s when things finally clicked. Wow, Bill had to hand it Fordsy and his idiot brother. They very nearly got him. That would have been bad for Bill. Upon this realization, Bill began to laugh. A once quiet chuckle soon descending into pure mad hysterical cackling. Ford and Stan looked over at Bill, both wondering what exactly the triangle found so funny. But the next words to come from Bill made their blood run cold

“WHAT KIND OF A MORON DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!” Bill spat out through his hysterical laughter before suddenly his grip around Dipper and Mabel began to tighten. It got tighter and tighter to the point that the kids began to scream out in pain, their struggling getting more and more frantic. Ford and Stan began to panic now, the two of them pounding at their cage trying to break free and somehow save the kids from Bill, all the while screaming and begging for Bill to stop and let them go

But their efforts were for nothing when there was suddenly the sound of a loud snap and Dipper and Mabel’s cries and screams were suddenly cut short as they fell limp in Bill’s grasp. The older twins were at a complete loss for words, tears welling up in their eyes as they could do nothing but stare at their niece’s and nephew’s lifeless bodies. “Whoopsie! Welp guess you were too little too late Ford!” Bill roared with laughter as he dropped the kids’s bodies on the ground and simply walked past them

The blue cage that surrounded them suddenly dropped and Bill grabbed “Stan” using his powers to tie “Ford” to the ground. “You really almost had me there Sixer. Guess you forgot to hide that little deformity of yours huh?” He chuckled as he plucked the red fez from his head, revealing who he really was. “Last chance, Ford. You couldn’t save the kids but you can still save your brother!” Bill told him but Ford wasn’t even looking at him, all he could look at was Dipper and Mabel’s bodies. They were gone. They were gone and it was all his fault

“Don’t do it, Ford! Don’t fucking let him in!” Stan cried out, trying his best to keep it together but the pain of watching the kids die to Bill’s hand was too much for him to bear. “I’m sorry…” Ford whimpered out, not only up Stanley but to the kids as well. He let them down, he failed them. But he wouldn’t fail Stanley. Without hesitation, Ford held his hand out for Bill to take, letting him into his mind. “NO!” Stan cried out as Bill greedily shook his hand, their hands igniting into blue flames before Bill dove into Ford’s mind

[wosowrites]

They’re Gone Now (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: based off this request here

prompt: in which after magda and p leave, jessie is struggling, the reader and millie try to help her but little do they know, you’ve liked jessie for years now.

It was near close to impossible to not like Jessie Fleming. The team, Canadian and Chelsea always joked that "if you had a problem with Jessie you had a problem with thousands of people" but you liked to just say "if you have a problem with Jeff, you just have a problem." You and Jessie had been playing together for ten years now, having both gotten your senior call up for Canada at 15. You had never played on a team that didn’t have Jessie on it since then. Canada, UCLA, Chelsea, always together. So how could you not fall in love with her?

It had been a week since Pernille and Magda had left for Munich. Watching them leave felt like death for both you and Jessie. Niahm held it together more but you could tell in how much pain she was.

"It’ll be okay," she had said. "We’re orphans," you had answered, only half joking.

And then it was two weeks later, World Cup squads had been announced and you and Jessie were set to leave London to meet the CANWNT in Vancouver in two days. Most of the Chelsea girls were still in London, and they were the ones you texted when it had been two weeks since the departure of the team moms and Jessie was still grumpy and borderline hard to be around. It was nothing like her and it broke your heart to see her like that.

You had tried everything. Cooking and baking for her, holding her as she cried, putting on her favorite movies, buying her flowers but nothing worked. You hadn’t told Magda and Pernille about Jessie’s behaviour because you didn’t want to make them feel guilty.

"Hey Elysse," you said, holding up the phone to your face. "How is she? Bring her home, y/n/n," she said, looking sad. Elysse was Jessie’s favorite person in the world, tied with you of course.

"I will. Two days and you’ll be with her. I just don’t know what to do. She’s barely getting out of bed. It’s so not like her," you said. Elysse smiled sadly at the camera. "How much have you slept, y/n?" she asked as Logan showed up in the frame. "Like… 6 hours in the past three days or something. I just can’t sleep knowing she’s not doing well," you mumbled, crashing down onto the couch.

"Tell her how you feel."

Elysse’s words caught you off guard, and for a second you thought you miss heard her. "Go again?" you asked, sitting up a little. "Tell her how you-" Elysse went to repeat her words but you cut her off quickly. "Stop that. Stop it," you said quickly before lowering your voice. "You shouldn’t even know that. No one knows. No one," you said to her in a hushed voice. "I can tell when someone likes my sister," the younger girl said. "Well- maybe I will. Whatever. I’m gonna go pack our bags,"

Elysse bid her goodbyes and then you hung up, but you were quickly on the next call. You clicked on Millie’s contact and the phone rang for about ten seconds before she answered.

"You never ever call. What’s up?" she said before another voice chipped in. "Hey Canada!" a voice said. "Canada? Which one. Small or not so?" yet another voice.

"Oh sorry, you’re busy i’ll call someone else," you said. "No! No it’s just Rachel and Leah. What’s up?" Millie asked.

You quickly gave her a recap of current events with Jessie, closing your explanation with: "I think she needs a little tough love. Like motivational speech type of shit. But a little meaner because she needs to snap out of this," you said.

Millie thought for a second before answering. "Okay. I’ll come over but I need to bring dumb and dumber," she said. "HEY!" Leah yelled in the background of the call. "No problem,"

You hung up and tried to tidy the place quickly.

You then did what you had told Elysse you would do and got out two suitcases. You packed everything you would both need considering you were going to be Down Under in the summer and it would be crazy warm. Both suitcases were half packed by the time the doorbell rang. You stood up and quickly opened the door. "Mills thank you so much, I don’t know what to do. I just- she just sits there all sad and tired and I’m so-" you started ranting until Millie wrapped you into a tight hug. "Hey, breathe. It’s okay. I’ll go see her, just, go lie down on the couch," Millie said. "I’ll make tea," Rachel said after giving you a small hug. "Do you wanna talk?" Leah asked, gesturing to the couch. "Yeah. Yeah sit down. You don’t need that weight on your leg," you said, quickly heading to the couch. "First door to the left right?" Millie asked. "Yeah," you answered as you sat down on the couch. Leah sat beside you and too say the least it was a little awkward. You had never played with her, only against, and as you both captained your country now it was a tad strange. "Thank you for being here. I know it’s weird," you said, playing with your fingers. "Hey, the rivalry can be put aside for an hour or two," she said to you kindly. "You should use your crutches," you told her. "You should join Arsenal," she snapped back with a smile. "Hey! What about the rivalry being put aside?" you fake pouted. "Sorry sorry. It’s all out now," she laughed.

There was a little silence, filled with the sound of the kettle boiling. "So… how long have you liked her for?" she said.

"Jesus. Everyone’s asking me that. I- I don’t. I mean it’s-" you started saying. "Hey. I’ve been there. The childhood best friend who your biggest fear is too loose but you just can’t help having feelings for. That’s like- my life story. We’re the same, you know. We’re very similar. Fleming is your Nobbs," she said to you kindly. "Yeah, I noticed it too y/l/n. Mostly because in every single interview of you and her you’re giving her fuck me eyes. And the hand placement doesn’t go unnoticed by the way," Rachel said from the kitchen. "Why are you watching interviews of us weirdo," you answered, trying to ignore the fuck me eyes comments.

Rachel looked away, trying to think of an answering before caving. "Uhm- a few of us have like… a group chat where we send edits we find of you two. It’s funny! And it’s cute it’s just-" Rachel said quickly. "A group chat! Who’s on it?!" you said a little loudly. "Are you mad?" she asked, brining you tea. You didn’t even like tea but saying that in a room full of brit’s wasn’t a smart move. "No. No i’m not. It does seem funny yeah but who’s on it?" you asked again.

"Listen, I know you’re not on tik tok but a lot of us are and we… you know we connect. Women’s football is like one huge gay club and you two are a pretty big ship. So it’s like almost just brit’s so… me, Millie, Leah, Lucy, Keira, Georgia, Niahm. We just think it’s cute! Okay. Oh yeah and uh- Millie added Magda and Pernille," Rachel said.

"You guys are insane," you groaned. "We talk about other things too!" Leah said.

But your brain went back to Jessie quickly after, as it always does. You stood up and started walking towards the door. "What are you doing?" Leah asked, looking at you. "It’s been 10 minutes. If Millie hasn’t gotten through to her now she won’t at all," you answered.

As you went to open the door, it opened before you could. In the doorway stood Jessie and behind her, Millie. Jessie had a towel slung over her arms and her hair was tucked neatly behind her ears.

Your face softened immediately in a way that would be impossible not to notice. "Hey, Jess. You okay?" you asked, looking at her softly. "Yeah. Yeah I’m gonna- what are Leah Williamson and Rachel Daly doing in our living room?" she asked in confusion, smiling at them awkwardly. "Heyy…" Leah said, waving. "Ignore them," you said, moving aside to let Millie slip out of Jessie’s dark bedroom. "I’m gonna shower. And then we can start packing, okay?" she said to you.

You nodded quickly and maybe a little aggressively. "Yeah! Yes. For sure," you said to her. She smiled at you, love in your eyes that you couldn’t see was there before moving past you to go to the washroom.

Once she closed the door to the washroom, you rushed to Millie and basically jumped in her arms. "What did you say to her?" you asked, pulling away. "It’s not important, she’s okay," the defender answered. "I could give you a kiss right now. Thank you so much," you hugged her again and she smiled. "Save that for Fleming," she smiled. "Oh my god. I know about the group chat by the way. Not cool," you said to her, smacking her arm playfully. "I gotta go unpack me and Jess’ suitcases so you guys can go now. Unless you want to stay. "Why are you unpacking?" Leah asked. "I don’t want Jessie to feel about being down for so long. She processed how she needed too and I don’t want her to see that I had just resorted to doing her things for her. It’ll make her feel bad and I don’t want that," you smiled. "You’re whipped," Rachel said. "How could I not be?"

After thanking Leah, Rachel and Millie for the thousandth time, they left and you kept your promise of unpacking.

You were quick to put the clothes you had snuck out of Jessie's bedroom as she slept back into the drawers. However she was also quick to get out of the shower. She caught you as you walked outside of her bedroom, steam pouring out of the shower. "What are you doing?" she asked, sounding gentle for what could be interpreted as harsh words. "Sorry. I was just seeing if you had my... Canada hoodie. I can't find mine." you said to her quickly. "I think its in the wash," she said.

But you barely heard her words as her wet hair was dripping down her bare shoulders and her body was covered only by a towel. "Uh- yeah," you answered, looking back up at her face. "Sorry," you said quickly, walking past her and into your own room.

You packed your suitcase quickly, not forgetting anything as you were pretty used to packing by now. Getting ready to prepare some kind of meal, you went to the kitchen only to find the fridge completely empty. In between caring for Jessie, worrying about Jessie and thinking about Jessie, groceries had been the last thing on your mind. You hurriedly wrote a note with a pen stating that you would be back with tacos for supper as soon as possible, and then you left.

Jessie, however, was pacing her bedroom in complete worry. Her mind was trying to tell her not to tell you how she felt, but her heart, man her heart was yelling for you. So, she did the only thing she knew how to do. Ask her sister.

Jessie: Follow your heart or you mind?

Elysse: Heart.

So that was settled. Jessie opened the door and walked into the living room and kitchen area. "Y/n?" She called out your name, looking around before seeing the note.

Jessie sat on the couch for twenty en minutes before it started pouring rain outside. You were extremely environmentally friendly and so she knew off the bat that you were stuck in the rain as the taco place you refused to drive too was a thirty minute walk.

It was an extra 20 minutes until the door of your appartement opened. You stood there, soaked to the bone and teary eyed as you held the paper bag containing the tacos that was basically reduced to paper pulp. "I- It started raining and the tacos im pretty sure are soggy and everything’s going wrong and i’m so sorry I just- i’m tired i’m really tired-" your rant got cut off by Jessie hurrying up to you and putting her hands on both sides of your face. "Hey. Breathe. It’s okay. I don’t care about the tacos I just care about you, and you are gonna catch a cold," she said, moving her hands to put the paper bag on the counter.

"I know you like those tacos and-"

"I’m not gonna let you cry over tacos," Jessie said, brushing droplets of water off your face. "I’m not crying because of the tacos i’m crying because I feel like I let you down. I let you be sad and I didn’t do anything for over a week-"

But you were silenced quickly when Jessie’s lips hit yours. She didn’t give you much though. A close lipped kiss as her hands roamed your wet abs. And that was it. She pulled away, stopping herself but not stopping you from slipping your hands under the waistband of her sweatpants. "Go change," she said to you gently. "I don’t want to change I want you to kiss me and never stop," you answered, looking at her lips. "Change. I want to hug you and hold you but it’s gross when you’re all wet," she said. "I’m wet anyways," you said, jokingly winking at her and making her mouth drop as she let out a laugh. "You’re funny. Go!"

So that’s what you did. You spent the night on the couch in her arms, holding her, kissing her and rubbing her back, just happy to be with her. She would be okay without Magda and P. And so would you. Did it hurt? Yeah. Did it hurt less with her? Yep.

[sleptwithinthesun]

hello so welcome to myself and @themiseryandcompany being insane for 4.9K words. basically we went "LMAO what if d/c c/omics" and well here we are. enjoy a lil sickfic :)

note that some characters will use diminutizing nicknames but! everyone is 18+

second part of this fic, posted by kovu, is here !

Jason was planning on making this a quick trip to the Manor. Really. 

He came for a bite to eat—nothing even close to a family dinner, since that wasn’t really his style anymore—but rather to raid Bruce Wayne’s pantry, just to make the old man’s day a little bit worse. What he finds instead is not Bruce, stewing in his inevitable misery as he realizes Jason’s only come home to mooch off of him, but rather Dick, standing in front of the open door to the fridge. He’s gazing vacantly at the nutrition facts label on a gallon of almond milk and swaying slightly, as if he can’t quite keep himself steady. 

“Dickface, what the fuck are you doing?” 

He barely reacts to the insult, slowly turning his head toward the sound of Jason’s voice, and Jason winces. His brother looks like death warmed over, eyes hollow with dark circles underneath them. His nose is pink, too, lips chapped and slightly parted like he’s breathing almost exclusively through his mouth. Which, Jason realizes, he probably is. 

Concern quickly gives way to amusement. Jason’s often seen Dick in a bad way, but today, he’s looking particularly shitty. He snickers under his breath at the sight, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Oh, you look fantastic,” Jason hums wryly. Dick blinks, then blinks again like he’s finally registered the fact that Jason is standing right in front of him. 

“Sick.” 

He arches an eyebrow in a single, fluid motion. “Sick?” 

Dick shuffles toward him, not even bothering to shut the fridge. Jason reaches past him to give it a helpful push, then starts with surprise as his older brother practically collapses into his arms. “’M sick,” he whines, and if he didn’t look so damn pathetic, Jason would honestly shove the guy off of him right now. It’s not like Jason is especially keen to join in on the party. “I’m pretty sure I’m dying, actually.” 

“You’re not dying,” he huffs. “What is it, a cold? The flu?” 

“Don’t know. It’s bad though: chills, aches, and my stomach—” 

“Spare me the gory details.” Jason interrupts, grimacing. Dick sniffles noisily, as if attempting to fill the silence. Jason grimaces harder. “Where’s B?” 

“Away. With Damian.” He sniffles harder, and Jason’s tempted to punch him with a tissue. Anything to get him to blow his damn nose. “Something to do with father-son bonding. Why didn’t he do that with us?” 

“He did. You got a concussion and he was too scared to do anything else until Timmers came along. Speaking of,” Jason says, glancing around, “where is the kid? Hiding away from your germs?” 

Dick shakes his head. Why is he still burying his face in Jason’s chest? He lifts Dick by the shoulders and pushes his stupid, sick brother upright as Dick explains, “Already shared ’em. Timmy’s in his room.” 

Jason runs a hand down his face. He came by to raid the pantry, not to play nursemaid. He can make a sandwich and leave and no one can make him feel guilty for it. 

“Damn, that sucks.” He sidesteps Dick, heading for the fridge. He’s making his goddamn sandwich and leaving. 

“It’ll be only the two of us until Saturday.” 

Again, Jason says, “Damn, that sucks.”

He keeps his eyes trained on the fridge. He knows if he looks at Dick, even for a moment he will fall victim to those sad blue eyes and he’ll spend his evening tending to Dumb and Dumber (with Dick being Dumber, of course. He wouldn’t do Tim that badly). He’s going to eat and then he’s going to leave. He reaches for the handle…

“hH’ATSSH’h!”

Jason feels a tug at his heart strings. Damn it. 

“Okay, you? To bed. Now.” 

Dick’s expression is surprised when he lifts his face from his elbow, sniffling yet again. God, how is he a detective in Blüdhaven? The idiot can’t even figure out that he’ll give himself a sinus infection if he keeps going on like this. “What? Jason, I’m fine—” 

“You just told me you were dying,” he counters. 

Dick tosses his hands up, stumbling back a step as he somehow manages to throw himself off-balance with the action. “In jest!” 

“Dickhead. Go to bed or I’ll carry your ass up there myself.” Jason starts heading off in the opposite direction, already knowing that Dick is a lost cause. He’s likely to still be here when Jason gets back, and if by some miracle he actually listens, then Jason will at least know where he is. “Now, I’ve got a Timberella to find.” 

Naturally, Jason doesn’t go to Tim’s room first. He doesn’t even go upstairs. If he knows anything at all about his little brother, it’s that he likes to isolate when he’s under the weather, so his bedroom is probably the last place he’s hiding. No, Jason  starts with the library, the massive oak doors creaking open in front of him. Rows of books stare back, but there is no sign of life. He moves quickly toward their family den next. The various couches and seats were empty and the TV was off. 

“Timberly?” His voice reverberates against the walls, designed for the strategic amplification and absorption of sound for movie nights. Nothing. Perhaps the bathroom next. 

Jason’s frustration grows as he takes the stairs two at a time. He heads for the bathroom on the main floor when something out of the corner of his eye catches his attention—the door to the broom closet at the beginning of the hall sits slightly ajar. 

“He wouldn’t…” 

He fucking would. 

Jason genuinely has to search the closet to find him, though, which is almost impressive. Most broom closets aren’t very big to begin with, and this one is even smaller than usual, since the bedrooms are on the third floor, where Alfred keeps most of his supplies. There’s a bucket of cleaning supplies, a dust rag and one of those old feather dusters, an old vacuum cleaner with the bellows and everything, a socked foot poking out from behind it— 

Tim. 

The kid’s curled up behind the vacuum, legs tucked up to his chin, arms wrapped around his knees like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. Jason can’t help the frown that crosses his face at the sight; it’s been a good four years since Bruce officially adopted Tim, and still, the kid retreats like this whenever he’s even remotely unwell. Still tries to be as unobtrusive as possible, even when his breath is rasping in his chest the way it is now and his cheeks are bright with the flush Jason’s come to associate with fever. 

“Aw, kid…” Something close to sympathy rushes up into his throat, and Jason crouches in the doorway. “Timmy, hey.” 

Tim doesn’t rouse the first time he calls his name, nor the second. He doesn’t stir until Jason wraps his hand around his notably warm heel and digs his thumb into the ball of his foot. When he finally cracks open his eyes, he looks almost as confused about his whereabouts as Jason is. 

“Jay?” 

Jason grunts noncommittally. “Yeah, yeah, I’m your guardian angel. It’s your lucky day. Come on, let’s get you out of the closet.” His lips quirk up at the corners. “Again.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jason waves the comment off. Tim scoots around the vacuum and then pushes himself into a sitting position. It looks almost painful, the way Tim winces and digs the heel of his palm into his temple. “How was your nap?” 

“Mmph.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He doesn’t even bother trying to get Tim to stand up, just scoops the kid into his arms, bridal style. It’s telling that Tim doesn’t even try to protest, burying his face into Jason’s chest—what is it with his brothers and doing that today, seriously—and whining softly. “You doing okay?” 

Tim winces against him, like even the sound of Jason’s voice is too much. “Fine. Just… the lights.” 

Oh, Jason forgot about that. Tim’s weird with some of the sensory things already, and being sick makes everything that much more overwhelming for him. 

“We’ll be in Dick’s room soon, it’ll be dark there,” he reassures. Barbara had the nerve to comment on it once, quite a while ago, the difference in his attitude toward Dick and Tim. Jason chalks his gentleness with Tim up to how rocky their relationship was when Tim was first being fostered by Bruce. He doesn’t have the heart to put the kid through that again. 

(Seriously, fuck his siblings and their ability to make him feel things.) 

Tim hums in acknowledgement and goes about getting himself settled. Jason barely makes it to the stairs before Tim shudders in his arms, once, twice, three times with a set of stifled sneezes. 

“hpt’shh! h’tshh’h! hih… hp’TSH’uhh!” 

Jason manages to bite back his laughter. Barely. 

“Stop laughing.” 

“‘M not laughing,” Jason protests. He’s not, at least, not in any way that matters. 

Tim gives him a sleepy, one-eyed glare and only makes his shoulders tremble with more contained laughter. Jason takes the stairs a little slower so he doesn’t jostle his brother too much on their journey towards Dick’s room. Even through his own black t-shirt and Tim’s hoodie, he can feel the heat radiating from his thin frame. There’s no way he doesn’t have a fever, which means Dick is probably running one too. 

Surprisingly, he actually is in his room, though he’s not in bed. Instead, he’s rummaging around under it, and Jason barely pauses as he sweeps into the room and gently deposits Tim on the mattress, watching as the kid (yes, Jason’s aware Tim is nineteen. No, he will not stop thinking of his younger brother as the wide-eyed kid who arrived at the Manor six years ago) immediately curls into a ball, grabbing onto one of Dick’s pillows and squeezing it to his body. The habit is one Bruce frowns at, since he’s pretty sure Tim does it to stimulate the feeling of someone lying next to him, but it’s innocent enough and honestly quite cute. 

“Dick,” he says, a hint of warning in his voice. 

“I know! Just—” There’s more rummaging, things being moved around and something that sounds metallic falling and rolling around before Dick shouts “AHA!” and makes Tim wince, curl in on himself even more, and Jason glare harder. 

“Come on, get in bed and cuddle with the kid. You know he fucking needs it.” 

Dick just pops up with a loopy smile, a plush in his hand. “I had to get Zitka first, Jay.” 

Jason steps closer. “Did you take any medication?” 

“No!” Dick scoffs, then breaks into a splitting smile. “Yes. Just a little. I took—”

“Nyquil, yeah, I can tell.” 

What on earth possessed Dickwad to take Nyquil when doxylamine in any medicine makes him hyper, Jason doesn’t know. 

Dick tucks Zitka under his arm protectively. “In my defense, I was dying, but I feel much better now. I mean, half of the squad was out sick last week with the flu, so it was really only a matter of time before I caught it too.” 

“And then you hand delivered it to Timmy, wrapped in a bow and everything. How sweet of you, Dick.” Jason jerks his chin towards the bed again. “Bed. Cuddle the kid. I’m going to find a thermometer.” 

“Not the ear one, please,” Tim croaks hoarsely from where he’s still tucked into a ball. 

“I’ll do my best, but no promises.” Jason snaps his fingers to grab Dick’s attention where it’s shifted to Zitka and smoothing the matted fuzz of the stuffed elephant. “You. Bed.” 

The search, thankfully, is more normal than the one for Tim. He literally just ducks into the bathroom, grabs a thermometer—one of the tongue ones, since he doesn’t trust the reader on the forehead thermometers—and goes back to Dick’s room. He’s finally in bed, albeit keeping his distance from Tim, who looks absolutely crushed. Glassy eyes, quivering lip, the works. Dick is desperately trying to reassure him, but there’s a panicked look on his face that gives away just how much it isn’t working. 

“What did you do now?” Jason sighs, uncapping the thermometer. He truly doesn’t have the energy to deal with Dick’s Nyquil-fueled hyper-freakout; he’s still hungry and very much in need of his nonexistent sandwich that he didn’t get to make because someone had to be gross and sick and utterly pathetic in his proximity. 

The shit he does for his brothers, really. 

“He’s too hot to cuddle,” Dick complains. 

“You sound like Goldilocks. Fitting for the Golden Boy,” Jason mutters in return. Tim huffs a weak laugh, opening his mouth obediently for the thermometer. He’s really not looking good, face gaining heat by the minute and eyes getting more and more hazy. It’s anyone’s guess as to whether he’ll fall asleep first or start rambling about the acoustic properties of the room or something like that. 

The thermometer beeps after a bit of stillness, and Jason pulls it from between Tim’s lips to glance at the screen. “One-oh-one point one,” he mutters, reading the information aloud. While it isn’t good, he honestly expected worse from him. He wipes the tip of the thermometer on the hem of his T-shirt and then points it at Dick like a weapon. “Your turn.” 

“Ew, you didn’t even go wash it off!” Bruce and Alfred really do a bad job of keeping Grayson humble. He desperately needs to be weaned off of his silver spoon attitude. 

“They’re your germs!” 

Dick doesn’t bother arguing with that logic, and although he doesn’t look happy, he does open his mouth and accept the thermometer under his tongue. For a blissful moment, they wait in silence for the thermometer to beep. It never comes. 

Dick takes one sharp inhale. Jason can tell what it means by the way it’s written all over his face. 

“Don’t—”

“Hz’ATSCHhh!”

The thermometer slips out of his mouth and lands on his lap, face up. 100.4 flashes across the screen in little black letters. 

“Hello? I sneezed!” Dick whines loudly. Nevermind that it’s been three seconds. 

Tim reacts slowly, eyebrows furrowed. He wets his lips in preparation to speak, and manages a soft, “Bless you.” 

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick. “Whatever.”

“You’re rude,” Dick grumbles. 

“Better than being sick,” he snipes back. “Now, go the fuck to sleep.” 

Tim sighs, repositioning himself to shift a tiny bit closer to Dick. “Sleepytime.” 

“First in your life,” Jason agrees, stroking the kid’s hair and pushing the greasy locks out of his eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make myself a sandwich.” 

It’s nearing dinnertime—not that it means anything, Jason’s sure their eating schedules have been absolutely fucked over the past couple of days—when Tim shuffles downstairs, wrapped in a blanket and looking miserable. Jason’s been working on a chicken noodle soup, because he’s not a heathen and refuses to use Progresso. The flush on his face is spreading, migrating out from Tim’s cheeks to his cheekbones and down to his neck, which isn’t quite pink, but instead radiating with heat when Jason presses a hand to the back of it. 

“Jesus, Timmers,” Jason murmurs, gentle now that it’s just him and the kid. “Did you take your temperature again?” 

Tim nods sluggishly. His eyes are half-lidded, and what of them Jason can see are glazed with fever. Christ, how bad could he have gotten in the three hours since Jason left him and Dick alone? 

“What did it say?” 

“One-oh-two point one, I think.” 

Jason curses sharply under his breath. Tim sways in the space before him. 

“I feel really sick.” Tim’s voice cracks down the center of his sentence and splits Jason’s heart right alongside it. He imagines that this is how Dick was feeling a day or two ago which compelled him to rush home for comfort, only to return to an empty house aside from Tim. Luckily, he’s on the mend and no longer dealing with this alone. Tim, however, seems to be directly in the thick of it, and with his track record it could go either way. He could wake up in the morning feeling much better or his fever could keep spiking and they’d have to take a fun detour to the doctor’s office. 

Jason isn’t going to let it get any higher. Not if he can help it. 

“That’s a full degree,” he notes. That’s definitely not concern in his voice. “No wonder you’re feeling like shit.” 

Tim just hums softly, and then sits down in one of the chairs on the island, though not without difficulty. His coordination’s been so shot to hell by the fever that it takes him a solid fifteen seconds to pull the seat out, and then another thirty to actually climb onto it. “You makin’ dinner?” he asks, once he’s figured himself out and gotten settled as best he can. 

“Chicken and dumplings,” responds Jason. “Got out the stock and everything.” 

Tim nods tiredly. The blanket is slipping off his shoulder, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, his gaze is slipping idly around the room, seeing things without really taking them in. “Sorry.” 

Jason nearly drops the scooper he’s been using to put the dough for the dumplings into the broth. “For what?” It’s a strategy—walk Tim through what he’s apologizing for to make sure it’s not just reflexive, and then counter him. 

Tim shrugs nonchalantly, but his hands pick at a loose thread at the corner of his blanket. He stares at a water stain on the granite countertop. 

“Dunno. For being sick, I guess.” Tim chances a peek up at Jason, who does his best to school his features into something casual and not open-mouthed gaping at Tim. “I assume you didn’t come here just to play nurse, right?” 

No, he came to make a sandwich. 

Tim definitely doesn’t need to know that. 

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop in and see what’s up. It’s just dumb luck that the two of you are sick as dogs.” He shoots Tim a softer glance. “I’m glad I came.” 

Tim twists a thread around his fingertip, dropping his gaze to the countertop once again. “Still, I’m sorry.”

Jason watches him for a long moment. This is not his area of expertise in the slightest. This is what Dick is good at. He is all heart and mushy, soft, feel-good phrases. He gives the best hugs. Jason will offer a beer and move on with his day. Tim does not need a beer right now. 

Jason opens the fridge and grabs a plastic water bottle off of the door. He uncaps it and sets it in front of Tim. “Drink this.”

“Throat hurts.”

“C’mon, don’t make me fight you.”

A ghost of a smile flashes across Tim’s face. He holds the cool plastic bottle to his warm cheek. It must feel good because he slumps forward in his chair. “I could take you.”

“Please.” It’s the only tactic he hasn’t really tried. Begging. “Just a little.” 

It’s quiet as Tim takes a slow sip. It buys Jason just enough time to think of a proper response. Finally, he says, “I’m not mad at you for getting sick. Nobody is.” 

Tim’s body gives a little shudder, like he’s actively fighting not to protest Jason’s words. “I… know,” he says haltingly. Trying to convince himself. “I can’t—my brain won’t stop telling me that I’m… you know. Doing something wrong.” 

Jason nods in understanding. He gets it, to an extent. He spent his first couple of months with B pushing his buttons, riling him up, seeing how far he could go before the old man got tired of trying and booted him. The difference was, Bruce never gave up on him, and Jason actually had the chance to see that. Tim was raised where any mistake he made was a threat, and thirteen years of that isn’t unlearned overnight. 

“You’re not,” he says. “I promise. And I’ll prove it to you.” 

Tim perks up a bit. “Oh?” 

“Stay here and keep an eye on the soup for me, alright? Nothing should happen to it, we’re just letting the dumplings cook. I’ll get the dick. And keep drinking your water.” 

It’ll keep him busy, make Tim feel useful while Jason goes up the stairs to drag his older brother out of bed and to the kitchen for an actual meal. He’s almost positive he’s been subsisting off of shitty cereal and tea, neither of which make for a good sick person diet. Hence, the chicken and dumplings; Tim has some textural issues with the way chicken is cooked in soups and Dick can’t stand the noodles, since they get soggy, so Jason’s made one of the dishes Alfred made him the first time he was sick in the Manor. It’s not quite a broth, almost like a gumbo in thickness, with cooked carrots and celery and slices of chicken dumped in among Southern-style dumplings, which are pretty much just puffed dough. It’s a substantial meal that should, at the very least, satisfy his siblings without overwhelming them. 

Tim gives him a small nod and takes a small sip of water. Content that Tim is taken care of, Jason heads back up the stairs for Dick’s room. He nudges the door open with his hip and is surprised to find his brother still asleep. Dick is asleep on his stomach, Zitka tucked safely beneath his chin and his chapped lips are parted in stuffed up snores. 

It’s almost cute. 

Jason sits on the edge of the bed, hand settling on Dick’s back. His back rises and falls with each steady breath. 

“Dick,” Jason whispers. He receives no response.

“Dick,” he tries again a little louder. 

Jason sighs. He should just snatch his pillow and smack him with it, but all these years with these losers and he’s gone soft. He reaches up, hand carding through Dick’s sweaty bangs. “C’mon big guy, time to wake up. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Dick sniffles and then groans as he comes to. He yawns, and Jason stands up before Dick realizes that he was getting a crumb of kindness and asks for more. 

“How long was I asleep?”

“Three hours, give or take. You needed it. How’re you feeling?” 

Dick rolls onto his back while he takes inventory of his symptoms. He snuffles consideringly, then finally settles on a frown. “Gross.” 

“Yeah, you look gross. Get up so I can feed you.” 

“You made food?” Dick asks, completely ignoring the insult. 

Jason snorts. “I’m the only functional cook out of the three of us, of course I made food.” 

Dick shoots him a grateful look that immediately morphs into a nose scrunch, followed by his face twisting up, a sharp gasp, and him bending forward into his blanket. “h’AZT’shu!” 

“How’s your fever?” 

“You tell me, I’ve been asleep.” 

Fair enough, Jason concedes mentally. “Hang on.” 

The thermometer isn’t lying on the bedside table where he left it. Tim must have taken it to the bathroom and washed it off, which. Well, Jason wouldn’t want more of Dickface’s germs either, and with Tim’s whole… internal situation—Jason still hasn’t gotten the full story on how Tim lost his spleen—washing it off before Tim uses it is probably for the better. Jason snatches it and heads back into Dick’s room, only to find his brother with his face in his elbow again. 

“hiHH’ATSH’h!” 

“Is that the last one?” 

“Probably.” Dick sniffles, and Jason looks around the room for a tissue box. He was tempted to throw one at him earlier, but now, he’s really going to go through with it. Of course, Dick lets himself get smacked by it, but perks up when he registers what he’s been hit with. “Ooh!” 

“Seriously? That’s your reaction?” 

He just shrugs, completely unbothered as he plucks a couple out of the box and presses them to his face. “I forgot they existed.” 

“You sound like Tim when he’s talking about sleep.” 

“You’ve got a terrible bedside manner.” Dick mutters into the folds of the tissue. Luckily for Dick, and everyone else, he does not have the life calling to be a nurse so he’s not really worried about his bedside manner. 

“Stop complaining and come eat,” he sighs. Dick makes a show of getting out of bed, tossing his sheets aside and gripping his head as he sits up and then with a heaving sigh, clambers to his feet. Jason isn’t impressed by his act. At least that’s what he tells himself, even though he holds out a protective hand in case Dickface decides to princess-swoon and faint into his arms, but Dick steadies himself. Finally. 

The walk down the stairs is normal, which is concerning. A healthy Dick (and a sick one, too, given that one time he had a concussion and decided being upside down was somehow less painful than lying down) will at the very least slide down the banister, if not walk down it on his hands. But now, he’s just plodding along in front of Jason, clearly wiped out. 

“Jay,” Tim calls from his seat at the kitchen island, twisting his entire body to see his and Dick’s slow approach. There’s a hint of panic in his gaze, although he’s mostly calm. His tone, when he speaks again, is matter-of-fact. “I fucked it up.” 

“What do you mean, you fucked it up?” 

“I fucked up the chicken and dumplings.” 

“I figured, kid,” he says, rounding the corner. Nothing seems off to his first glance around the room, but at the same time, it’s Tim. “I’m asking how you fucked it up. You literally haven’t moved from your seat.” 

Tim frowns. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Pretty sure you didn’t. You haven’t even changed position.” Dick walks away from Jason and pulls out the stool next to Tim, sitting down next to him and rubbing an absent hand over Tim’s back in an effort to calm him down. His breathing is growing more erratic, and he’s blinking rapidly, like he’s trying to clear his vision. Like he’s going to— 

His face crumples. 

“Shit, don’t cry—” 

“t’zsch! Tshh! iH’SHh!”

“Ah,” he nods sagely, like he’s uncovered some great secret. “Bless you.” 

“Bless you, Timmy.” Dick croaks from Jason’s other side. 

“issch! –t’SCHhu! h’ksSH! hh’TSHh–!” He cuts off with a breathy gasp, shoulders twitching upward as he builds up yet again, only to lose the oncoming sneeze. Jason and Dick patiently watch Tim, waiting for him to lift his face from his elbow. 

“Ble—”

Jason holds up a hand to pause Dick. “Wait.”

“ih’sCHH! ih’tZSCH! Ow.”

Jason nods in finality. He’s done. “Bless.” 

Dick winces, having the heart to look a little guilty. This is his fault after all. “Yeah, fuck, man. Bless you. Like, ten times.” 

Tim sniffles, wiping at his nose with his shirt sleeve and looking miserable. “Id was ondly ndide,” he corrects stuffily, and Jason immediately searches the vicinity for tissues. Of course, they’re nowhere to be found, and he gives Dick a glare his older brother doesn’t notice, too busy staring after Tim. To be fair, the fit was a lot, especially for Tim. Kid doesn’t usually sneeze that many times in those kinds of fits, where there are pauses between sneezes and everything. 

“It’s an extra blessing for the future,” Dick says, and Tim rolls his eyes. 

“Cand I trade?” he deadpans. 

Dick splutters. “What do you mean, can you trade? For what?” 

“I’ll give you all your germbs bagk.” 

“That’s not a trade, you’re not getting anything out of it.” 

“I gedd to nodt be sigk.” 

“He’s got a point,” Jason says, turning back to the stove. “Tim, you didn’t fuck this up. Like, at all. What are you talking about?” 

“I didd’t…” Tim frowns, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “I thought mbaybe I…I dod’t know.” 

Jason’s flicker of amusement ignites and extinguishes in the same breath. He watches Tim for a moment, the unfocused look in his eyes and then turns to the pot. “No, buddy. You did great. It’s fine.”

He pulls three bowls from the cabinet and generously spoons chicken and dumplings into each. When they’re full, he grabs utensils for the group and moves their food to the island. He slides a bowl in front of Tim and then one in front of Dick. 

“Don’t piss me off. Eat.” 

The loving gesture is wrapped in a thinly veiled threat, because Jason is allergic to love. Or, at least, he pretends to be, for the sake of his sanity. If he had to come to family dinners and do all that bonding shit and listen to Bruce yammer on about how it’d be so nice to have Jason home from college more often, then he’d— 

Well, there’s a reason he acts the way he does. Especially with Bruce. 

He does love his brothers, though. He can’t deny that, not even to himself. Sure, Dickface is annoying every second of the day and Timbalina can’t tell fault from fiction, but they’re both… easy to be around. In the most abstract sense of the word easy, of course. They’re absolute nightmares, but they’re not trying to forge a connection that just isn’t there while refusing to put any of the work in themselves. Jason’s always found that his relationships with the two of them are mutualistic. They reach just as much as he does. 

And looking at them now, he’s glad he stopped by.

[heymeowmao]

2024.06.28 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321325050344135590145

bgm: 唯一的回答 (No Matter), Men in Love OST

LYN: It’s lagging? If it’s lagging, close the window then come back in. It’ll probably be fixed, then. LYN: Hallo everybody, good evening. I am Modern Brothers Liu Yuning. Welcome! LYN: Long time no see. I haven’t streamed for a long time, right? Actually I am a little tired today, but I still wanted to come stream, more or less, and to give you some comfort. 

C: Have you recovered from your cold yet? LYN: I was over it a long time ago! I was sick a while ago, but I’m fine now. Is the nasal tone too heavy? I’m just a little tired, but it’s okay. I’ve come to play. LYN: I need to keep up my KPI, otherwise I won’t have streamed all month. That’s a little inexcusable. I still have to stream. Just because I’m an actor and singer now, doesn’t mean that I can give up on streaming. I should at least keep my quota. LYN: I’m afraid that when the time comes Weibo won’t give me my Livestream King title. I’ll ask them, “Why was I passed up for the title of Livestream King this year?” and they will tell me, “You didn’t stream for the month of June.” There’d be nothing I could say to contest. So, since this title is mine, no one else should think of taking it away from me. ~There will come a day when I take back what’s mine. That’s right- the 2024 Weibo Livestream King (award)!”

bgm: 我只愿朝着光 (I Only Wish to Face the Light), BYOL OST

C: Is it raining daily in Hengdian? LYN: Not every day, but it’s the season for it so it starts to pour every so often. Lately I’ve been filming when it’s pouring rain, though. It comes and goes and comes and goes. It’s quite humid. C: Is it hot? LYN: Of course it is. Shooting a guzhuang drama in the summer is asking for punishment. Hot is one thing, but it’s also stuffy and humid. If you’re standing outside in those clothes, I guarantee that not even a minute later you’ll have sweated through the under layers. It’s that hot.

C: Lao-da, I’m still watching KSTLB. LYN: Ok. I took some time while I was eating to take a look, because I always watch the variety shows that I’ve taken part in. LYN: Friends- don’t spoil it! I’m sure there are quite a few who are watching my stream that still haven’t watched the 9th episode yet. You can’t expose my identity! Wouldn’t that negatively influence everyone’s viewing experience? If they haven’t finished watching or haven’t started yet, but already know the result, that will influence their enjoyment. It won’t be “fresh”. If you aren’t watching (or reading the spoiler comments) it’s okay.

C: I’m listening to YOLO. LYN: Very nice. Listen to what you want to listen to.

C: Pick up another variety show for later. LYN: It should be a music variety. I have a music variety for later, so I will still have a show. It’s about time for me to pick up a music variety, so.. Let’s just wait. LYN: I feel like I don’t have enough experience anymore. When I first debuted I was young(er) and full of energy. I didn’t care about a lot of things. But now I feel like my body can’t keep up. I can’t keep up, mentally. My brain is working much slower than it used to. I keep wondering- did I get dumber after having contracted Covid? I keep trying to find excuses for myself. After I got Covid, I became stupider and it feels like I can never get enough sleep. It’s been a long time since I recovered from it, but I still feel slow. C: You’re getting older. LYN: Did you think that could hurt me? Let me tell you- I am hurt. /laughs/ No, I’m sure it has something to do with my age. Your Ning-ge- /coughs, old man mode activated/- Your Ning-ge is getting old. I’m not the young boy I used to be. I’m not the young man who debuted in 2018, full of youthful energy anymore.

- /singing along to his OST, but coughs from the effort/ LYN: I was originally planning to come here and sing some songs, but I’ve found that my voice is not in the best condition for it. 

C: Lao-da, make a heart if you see me. LYN: I can’t stand the people that come into my stream and try to exchange signals. My stream is for the general public, not for you alone. If you want to imagine that my stream is a one-on-one service, that’s okay, but don’t make me send you any signals. 

C: Ning-ge, will your drama air in the second half of the year? LYN: I don’t know. When it all comes down, I’m just an actor. The broadcast schedule of a drama is not something I can determine, and it’s not something I am worthy of knowing. It sounds a bit cruel, but it’s the truth. Often times the actors don’t even know if or when their drama will air. We might only be notified a few days in advance, and told to record some promo video to post. We don’t normally get much advance notice. So.. wait. LYN: There’s that methodology isn’t there: “Your only job is to keep working hard, and the rest is up to Heaven’s will.” Was that cheesy? But the logic is that you just keep on shooting dramas, and people are bound to like one of them. 

C: I’ve been in the midst of “archeology.” (looking up LYN’s past history) LYN: Ok. You can… but the workload is a lot. Jiayou. You work hard.

C: Ning-ge, I’ll see my test results the day after tomorrow. Can you wish me well? LYN: Of course, I hope that you will get a good score. I hope that your scores are high. Jiayou. I hope you can go to the school of your choice and that you can achieve everything you wanted. Jiayou. (x2)

C: Can you say something in English? LYN: OK. How is it? Didn’t that sound perfect? O-K. LYN: Very good. You are so beautiful. Very good.

C: What does that mutual stabbing in SJYM mean? LYN: What does it mean? It means that- what’s it to you? You can watch it when the drama airs. Are you expecting me to give you drama spoilers?? Ask, ask, ask. Do you think that’s something you should be asking?? You think I look forward to seeing a headline that reads, “LYN reveals the whole SYJM script online”?? How could I do that?! C: You’re so mean. LYN: Sorry. When people are tired and have low blood sugar they might tend to be more explosive. Excuse me. Allow me to reply to that question again. Someone asked, “What’s up with the three of you stabbing each other? Can you tell us about it?” My reply was perhaps a little abrasive, when I said, “What’s it to you?”. Let me reply properly, now… - /prepares/ LYN: What business is it of yours? :) LYN: Look, I’m asking with a smile. How gentle. LYN: What business is it of yours? If it doesn’t concern you, please don’t ask. C: Isn’t it the same??

C: Release more pictures. LYN: I rarely take selfies anymore, so there’s nothing in the storage to post. Let’s revisit this when I have an opportunity to save up some more photos.

C: Ning-ge, you were touched at the airport? LYN: Last time I went to Changsha to shoot for a show, and a fan at the airport touched me, a little. It’s okay. I’m a grown man, a small touch would not lose me a piece of meat. But my “it’s okay” does not mean “it’s okay to touch me”. That is, try your best not to make contact. No, not “try your best not to” but “don’t attempt it at all.” What I meant by “it’s okay” was that the incident has passed, so I’ll let bygones be bygones. I don’t need to find out who that person is, in order to attack them. LYN: I was thinking about it on the way home and I came to a conclusion. I really don’t like people touching me; I don’t think it’s very resepctful. But I was thinking that maybe when I walked in front of her something else floated by. My hand”some”ness. So this person smelled (?) my handsomeness and couldn’t help themselves. That’s what I was thinking when I was home and lying in bed. That’s what I was thinking, so I have forgiven that friend. Because it’s because of me, that they could not control themselves. So I’ll let it go, but give a strict reminder when I’m streaming. LYN: I’m joking, joking. But I hope that the next time we see each other, we can communicate with manners. Okay? Don’t touch me. If you touch me next time, I’ll report you. 

-----

C: Wish me a Happy Birthday! LYN: Many of you are celebrating your birthday today, yeah? Ok, then Happy- Let me record a voice message for you. Let me close the captions. You can turn on your screen capturing program now and record this video message. You can save it to your phone so that when you’re celebrating a birthday you can just play it. Today, for all of you in the stream, I will record my well wishes. I’ve already turned off the on-screen captions. Let me fix my hair- oh, it’s even uglier. /fixes it again/ Okay. Let’s go. LYN: Hello, everyone. I am Liu Yuning. I’d like to wish the friend in front of me a Happy Birthday, and I hope you can be happy every day and that all goes smoothly. LYN: Was that okay, friends? C: No, it wasn’t personal enough. LYN: Is that so? Then, I’ll record all the other versions too. “Hello, I am LYN. I’d like to wish-” /moving his mouth/ I’ll make the shapes with my mouth and then you can go and dub it yourself. “- a Happy Birthday!” Okay? 3, 2, 1. Start! - /Birthday Wish Video Message V2 (fill in the name ver.)/ C: It was too fast! LYN: What do you mean “it was too fast”! Is your name four to five characters long? My mouth moved four times, that should be about enough! C: It went too fast, I could’t record it in time. LYN: There’s the playback. When we’re done you can go back to find it. - LYN: Friends, let me also record a wedding one for you to use when you get married, because many of you aren’t yet. Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1. Record. LYN: Hello everyone, I am Liu Yuning. I’d like to congratulate ZZZ and YYY on their wedding. I hope you are blessed with children soon and may you live a long and happy life together. LYN: Perfect. - LYN:  Look at that. Usually when you want a video like this from an artist, you have to rely on your connections to get you a chance but here I just give it to you directly. When you get married, you can play this clip from me and tell people, “This is my friend.”

C: Ning-ge, can you record one for my successful grand opening (of a business)? LYN: Friends, it’s like this. Many people will ask me for such video messages, but most of the time I don’t record one. Especially for businesses, I pretty much never agree to record one, because I don’t think that these messages should be used for marketing. A message for your grand opening would turn this into business. In that case, we’d need to discuss collaboration and a contract. LYN: We don’t do business messages here. But if it’s for something between friends like a birthday or wedding, that’s okay. If it’s for business then at the very least you should be transferring me 200rmb before I’ll record one for you.

C: Record a wake-up call. LYN: … I think I have, before? I think I went on some show and they asked me to record a wake-up call for my fans. I’ve done this before.

C: Then just record another one! I don’t want the old one, nor do I want to try to find it. LYN: How lazy you are! You just want everything handed to you. You want too many things.

C: Are we making video messages today? LYN: No, someone earlier is celebrating their birthday. I won’t joke anymore. LYN: I wish everyone present in my stream- if you’re celebrating a birthday today- that you can be happy every day. Also, you’re one year older now, so… learn something. LYN: I meant that in a good way!

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bgm: 陽光總在風雨後 (Sunshine After the Rain) > 热辣滚烫 (YOLO), YOLO Movie OST

C: Have you decided on your next drama? LYN: Why did you have to bring up such a sensitive topic? Well, it’s not that sensitive, because I have been seeing what people are posting so I did want to talk about this the next time I streamed. But then I couldn’t figure out how to say what I wanted to say. Sometimes when I need to say something relatively stricter, I always think about how I should say it. I want to make sure I’ve thought it through first. Usually when I touch upon a topic, I’ve already thought of about 70% of what I want to say. LYN: Sometimes people take my content out of context. Maybe if you spend ten minutes listening to me talk about the same topic, you wouldn’t misinterpret what I’m trying to say. But just one wrong word can trigger something which makes the whole thing sensitive. Do you get what I’m saying? You only focus on the few seconds, but don’t get the concept of what I’ve spent ten minutes to explain. It creates ambiguity. So that’s why… when I haven’t thought something through all the way I don’t particularly want to talk about it.

LYN: But since we’re on the topic, let me share my thoughts. What I’m saying now has nothing to do with other artists, and it is especially not directed anyone else’s fans. Right now, I am speaking to my own fans. In reference to what dramas I will pick up: I won’t say, “I’ll pick up what I want to, you don’t have to worry about it.” That’s not what I mean. But I do want to say that I am a 30+ year old grown adult- approaching 40. Every decision I make in my life in regards to my work has undergone careful thought or there are reasons behind my choices that you are unaware of and I cannot tell you. It might not be the ideal choice you want me to make, but they are choices that I’ve made after careful deliberation and reflection. Also, I’m sure that I would understand better than about 90% of you watching- how to be an artist. You have to admit that, right? I used to just be a street busker, who somehow went viral, established himself as a singer, and is now an actor. Right? I’m sure that I know better than 90% of you what things I should be doing and what dramas I should be accepting. Before, too, many of you wouldn’t acknowledge the decisions I made. When you look back you should realize that there must have been a reason I had made my decision. LYN: You need to trust me. Of course, there were times that my choices were a mistake- that’s a given. Rather than a “mistake”, they were the best choice I could make at the time. Looking back on those decisions now might leave you with regrets, but they were the best choice could have made at the time. They were choices I made after consideration of my position at the time. You just need to trust me. No one can tell what the results will be, but I have my reasons for making the decisions I do. That’s what I wanted to share with you.

LYN: Also, I won’t… how do I say this… I won’t just numbly do something without considering it first. I’m getting older, so there’s no way I would blindly do something. Every variety show I participate in, every song I release, my concert, and the dramas I accept- all decisions are made after making careful considerations. I won’t accept something just because it pays me more. Honestly, a few years ago when I was marketing, I made a lot more than I do now. But I don’t do that anymore. If there’s one thing you can trust me for, it’s that I will never make my decisions based on profit.

C: Got it, Ning-ge. I understand. Ning-ge is someone who “considers money as trash”! LYN: Are you trying to kill me? That’s anti-fan talk, right there. What artist in this world would dare to say that “money is no object to me.” Who dares?? Stop putting labels on me. LYN: I’ve said before, that I don’t think of money as money. I think of it as my life. If it’s supposed to be mine, then it’s mine. If it’s not mine to make, then so be it.

C: Ning-ge, you’re right. Looking back, 90% of your choices were the right one. LYN: They’re… not necessarily “right.” I just feel like… when I am looking at projects… I’ll filter it through a bunch of miscellaneous thoughts before I make my decision. When I receive a project, of course I am honored to have received notice of it in the first place. Secondly, I will look at it from different angles: 1. The Script, 2. The Production Company, 3. The Platform, 4. [???] - there’s no ranking to this!- 5. Director, 6. Actors. I will consider all these factors to look at the project comprehensively before making a decision. I don’t only look a the script, think it’s good, and make my decision. Or think, “Wow, this actor is a big name. I should collaborate with them.” or “This Director is amazing, I should accept.” I don’t only look at one factor, but look at the project collectively. 

C: You’re really talking in depth about it. LYN: I won’t anymore. It’s just something that I wanted to share. My decisions aren’t made in jest. There’s a reason behind the choice I make for the work I choose to do. I choose it for a reason. I hope that you can… respect- no, trust me. I don’t think I can ask for your respect, but at least trust me. Trust in my choices and we’ll be ok. LYN: Additionally, don’t tear down anyone I work with. This is something I keep repeating. Don’t fight about anyone I’ve worked or collaborated with. At this point I have a clear understanding of the tricks of “how to be an artist”, but I don’t want to use them and I don’t advise any of my fans to implement them either. I hope you can do that for me. Let’s just play among ourselves. C: What if other people come to start fights with us? LYN: Just… don’t fight back. This is the nature of fighting. You can… How do I say this? When you fight back, that’s when we start hurting each other. Do you get it? At first it’s a favorable condition, but once you start fighting back then you’re just mutually hurting one another. It’s that simple. LYN: I don’t know. Let’s not talk about such a sensitive topic anymore. LYN: Just block them. Pretend you didn’t see anything and block them. If you see something you don’t like, just mark the post as “not of interest” and leave it at that.

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LYN: Also, I see that a lot of you care a lot about me- a bit like my mother. 1. Like my mother, and 2. Like my manager. You’ll say, “Your wig, Ning-ge! The wig is too low! What’s wrong with your drama crew? Can’t they see that they’ve put your bangs too low?? If you keep on like this, it won’t do at all.” “You don’t respect Ning-ge! How could you put his wig on so low???” /sigh/ I’ve seen those posts, and that you’ve even tagged the director in them. I really don’t know where you learned this behavior. You can’t learn the good things, but you sure can pick up this type of thing quickly, one after another! You’re either attacking wardrobe saying, “The clothes you made for my idol don’t look good. They’re too ugly! What the hell is that?? What’s with the texture? Why is the color like tomatoes and eggs?” or “This wig is on too low, why don’t you just start it at his nose??” Actor-fans can’t learn one good thing, but they sure can learn the bad without missing a beat!

LYN: I want to tell you something, my friends. In regard to my wig being too low: you shouldn’t judge whether the wig is low or not just based on leaked photos. This thing (the placement of the wig) is based on where the camera is stationed. First of all, we’re not recording from an angle that looks like we’re filming sneakily. If you’re looking at it from where the paparazzi are- they’re either very high or very low, or in some weird place trying to catch a glimpse of us as we spend our days filming. The angles at which they are taking these pictures are quite strange and deceiving. DO YOU KNOW?? They aren’t shooting at the right angles because 1. since they’re not close enough the dimensions get skewed and 2. if I’m shooting at ground level and they’re 10m up, looking down at me- do you think the angle of that sneakily taken picture will come out well?? That’s why I want to say, that the high or lowness of my wig and whether it looks good or not depends solely on where the camera is. Because in the end it’s going to be recorded, edited, and turned into a drama for your viewing based on the location of the main camera.  LYN: Let me tell you about it from a different angle: you can’t tell with your eyes whether the wig is on high or low. You might think that the placement is just right when looking with your eyes, but through the monitor it’s higher or lower. Everything- low or high, makeup, wardrobe, color, texture- all of it is based on how well it appears on the monitor. Friends, that’s the way it is.

C: You’re getting worked up? LYN: No- this is not how I act when I’m agitated. This is a purposeful performance persona that I’m using to tell you about these things, so that you don’t think I’m actually angry about it. I’m executing this as a performance, to tell you about it so that you find it interesting. C: Do you have other personas? LYN: What type of persona do you want to see? 🙂

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LYN: Of course, there could be times where you sometimes pretend that you understand the visual of the historical drama wig. You could understand it, you could know, and you could THINK that you know. You can pose it as a question- “Do you think Ning-ge’s wig looks a little low?”- and share it with others, but don’t just directly start pointing fingers at the hair and makeup artists and demanding, “Do you know how to do your job??” This is their profession, so I’m sure that they know better. What I’m trying to say is: try not to create friction. In the end all of these elements are optimized to look best based on the final recording and how it looks in the monitor. Right? Otherwise why would the phrase “on camera” exist? If everything were made to be seen with your naked eyes or in a photo, then we wouldn’t be having this discussion. The standards are made for the main camera, okay? Listen to me.

C: The YNGS wig was low. LYN: Honestly, I’ll admit to that. That was a tiring drama to film- we had some very long days of shooting. Once you move or sweat, the seal releases and the wig starts moving. If we’re still in the middle of filming, all they can do is glue it back down so that you can continue. The more times they glue it back down again, the lower it becomes. If you put it too high to begin with, the whole thing will just slide off the back. It’s true that in YNGS, you’ll discover that some scenes are very good but others are low. It’s because we took many shots that day. Whenever the seal starts to open, we’ll pull and glue it back down. The more we pulled, the further down it ended up.

LYN: This time though, we’re quite strict about it. This time, there’s a standard of measurement for the positioning of my wig, too. That is, I’ll use my beads to measure the length. This is how I do it- I’ll take this strand, start at my hairline, and count the number between my hairline and the point of my nose. It’s twenty beads. I start to count… “1, 2, 3, …. 19, 20. 21?!” “No, this won’t do, laoshi. It needs to be twenty. Look.” - /puts the beads back to his hairline, counts, and tells them where it needs to be/ LYN: “This is the highest it should be. Okay, nice!”

LYN: That’s what I do, now. Why did I start to play with beads? It’s because it’s a string of beads- it may look like a stress relieving tool, but it has another function as a measuring tool for the height of my wig. C: Ning-ge, but what if you have a jingang bodhi today, but fengyan tomorrow? LYN: On a fengyan, it’s 18 beads. I have a standard of measurement for every strand I own. // Xinyue bodhis are 28 beads, because they’re smaller in size. LYN: I carry these beads around everyday, but it’s not a sure thing what I’ll use them for. So friends, you don’t have to worry. My wig is placed at the same height every day. You might think it’s high today, but by tomorrow you won’t think it’s low. [??] The logic is that I’ve used these beads to measure. I’m not kidding. C: I can’t believe people are buying this. LYN: I’m being serious. /unconvincingly/ I’m being serious about this, at least. This one is really true. C: /doesn’t believe him/ LYN: You think I’m bluffing and joking?? I’m being serious~!! FOR REAL!! LYN: I’m saying that we do measure it, but we don’t use the beads to do it. Friends, honestly, we use a measuring tape. That’s strict enough, isn’t it?

C: Ning-ge, when you measure it tomorrow take a picture as proof. LYN: …? You- /laughs/ There are two angles to this. 1. Why should I take a picture, just because you told me to? And 2. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you find the proof? How is it that you don’t believe I use a measuring tape, and you want me to prove that I do? I have to provide the evidence myself?? Fine then, when I’m finished with makeup tomorrow I’ll grab the measuring tape and snap a photo for you. 

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C: Can you talk about 618? LYN: They day that I sang? 618 is a Hunan Satellite TV event. Actually, when I’m already in a drama crew I will rarely accept invitations to events like these because I feel like it would split my attention. I’ll be focusing on shooting the drama when they want me to stop and do something else. What I mean by that is that I have limits- my mental capacity has a limit and I don’t really like to go out. But sometimes when I’ve been in the drama crew for too long, there are moments when I do want to get out and wander around and take a breather. Even if that’s going to the market and eating some crayfish. It’s still feels relaxing. You need that balance between work and rest. So I went to Changsha.

LYN: At the start they had asked me if I would do a set of songs. I asked which ones, and they mentioned three. I said, “Okay, but the problem is… these songs are all from last year or two years ago.” I was thinking that they’re making it seem as if I’m not prolific enough- that’s what I was thinking! They found my best OSTs from the previous years. But I was- :(. I CAN do it, since they’re songs that people have acknowledged, but the fact that I would be singing songs from previous years and not this one gives me the feeling like I haven’t done much this year. I feel like I am being eliminated by time. So I didn’t want to sing them, since it made it seem as if I hadn’t made any breakthroughs this year. But there’s YOLO- it counts as this year, right? and Offer- even though it’s from last year, but it’s special to me. 1. It was my first lead role and 2. I sang it. It means a lot to me. So we agreed on these two songs, and I went.

LYN: Six days before I was set to go, I started catching a cold. Those days I was wearing the armor, with the mask and hat- you know the look. We were shooting fight scenes, and after I would be soaked with sweat- you know how hot Hengdian was- and I would head straight for the air conditioning in that state. At first I thought I was fine- it just felt really great. When I was standing under the AC I would think, “OMG, this feels great~” I thought I was going to die, I couldn’t catch my breath, but the AC felt great. And then I got sick. I gave myself a cold. LYN: I felt terrible. Because normally I rarely get sick during the year- maybe only once or twice. But this time I got sick. If you look at the leaked photos, you can see me blowing my nose. I was blowing my nose or sneezing every other minute. I was in it. But the weird thing about this cold was that even after a week I still hadn’t recovered. Because I knew that a week later, I would have to attend this event. In my recollection, if you’re not well in three days, you be well in four. If you’re not well in four days, you should be more than fine by five. But it was seven days and I was not fine yet. It was getting to the deadline and I was dumbfounded. LYN: I couldn’t speak without sniffling, and I had this event to attend. As a singer I hold myself to a standard that I must sing live. If I went, I’d need to sing live, but I was sick. Also, it seems that audiences have higher standards for singers. Because of a certain variety show, now audiences have high standards for singers. Because they like to take the singer’s raw vocals and put it through some software to see how accurately they’re singing the notes. It’s not as if I was afraid of singing live- I like it. I enjoy singing live, and it’s when I’m recording that I don’t feel anything. But I was thinking, “I’m done for.” I- Liu Yuning- have spent the past month and a half shooting a drama and finally got the opportunity to go out and attend and event to show my face, take some nice pictures, and look handsome. To go on stage and sing some songs that myself and everyone else likes- my own songs- so that I can leave behind a wonderful stage and beautiful image. How nice is that? But I was sick.

LYN: I felt terrible. Deeply pained. What could I do?? What if the time came and my voice cracked? I would be trending at No.1 with the topic “LYN_SoundsTerrible”. It would be the end of me. What do you think would happen- do you think I would still be able to keep business in the OST industry? How was I going to keep getting jobs? Would I still be the “Bodyguard of Love”? I started thinking all sorts of things. I was terrified. I’d arrive in Changsha on 6/16 and perform on the 17th. I woke up at 8am on the 16th, went into makeup and shot a whole day of scenes. After that I headed straight for the airport, flew to Changsha, and went straight for rehearsal as soon as I landed. And then… - /preps/ LYN: Normally, everyone has to go rehearse. The first thing you do is to test the mic- you have to listen to the ration between the in-ears and vocals, because you’re singing live. It needs to be tested. I went like this- -- 奉上 (purposefully singing poorly every once in a while) LYN: That’s how I sounded during rehearsal. Because first, I was sick and second, I was up all night so my condition was the worst it could be. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to control the high notes, but I had to pretend that I could handle it. I said, “Sorry, laoshi”- I used the mic to tell them- “Sorry”- I was giving myself an out- “Let me try again. Maybe I haven’t been on stage in too long. Let me try that again. /coughs/.” I purposefully coughed so the mic would pick it up. /coughs/ To secretly tell them that I was sick. “This is not reflective of LYN’s actual skill. Please don’t regret inviting me.” So the first rehearsal was done. The second time around director came and asked me if I wanted to do another run, and I said yes. “I want to try that again. /cough/.” Ok- LYN: The second time I only had five words in my head: pretend it’s the real performance. I had to do it seriously this time, because honestly the first time I wasn’t trying that hard. Because the purpose of it was to test the mic levels, to make sure the audience is hearing well and that my in-ears are working right. The second time around I have to give it my all. “Even if I ruin my voice, I will not crack this second time.” I’m sure that there are fans in the audience who spent money to get a seat. Every time I rehearse, there are always these fans who use alternative means to get through the back door. If they hear me sing badly, they’re going to stop being my fan. Usually, the people who can afford to spend money to get into the venue- even though as artists we do not condone this behavior of using improper means- it proves one thing: they either have money or have connections. They’re fans with a different type of skill. Of course, all of my fans are important to me! I’m just afraid that you’ll think, “Ning-ge sound like THIS live? Forget it. UNSTANNED!” So for the second time I was thinking that even if I ruin my voice tonight and I can’t speak tomorrow, I still have to sing properly. Let’s do it. -- 奉上 (take 2) LYN: /interrupts himself to say/ I think I was wearing this exactly, that day. This hat and these shades.

LYN: People need to find their confidence. After the first high note, I was much more relaxed for the rest of the song. After that I didn’t crack too terribly. But honestly, I wasn’t the best. I was thinking the next day I wouldn’t do ANYTHING. I would go home, shower, and just lie on the bed and have a good sleep. I needed to sing live for the performance, and I didn’t want to be laughed off the stage. It wasn’t worth it. I had enough ridicule as a singer five years ago. Maybe three years ago. But in the recent three years very few people have attacked me for being a singer. This is the truth. Five years ago, everyone just thought I was “internet famous” so when I was singing and called myself a singer they said, “What “singer”?? You’re just internet famous is all.” But in the recent three years very few people have questioned my identity as a singer. Because they’re rejecting my identity as an actor instead. So I don’t want to sing this song poorly and destroy my image as an actor- I mean- as a singer. Because I’m on the “actor” stage of my life now. If you take away my identity as a singer, the next thing they’ll be saying is, “LYN, you aren’t worthy to be a streamer.” They won’t even let me stream. They don’t think I’m worthy enough to be anything. 

LYN: I wasn’t quite satisfied with my performance that night, because I didn’t sing well. In Offer, the first two high notes of the chorus weren’t very stable and I was noticeably off-key for one of them. There were a few places I was outrageously off key. For YOLO, it was my first time singing it live. I really was nervous that day. Usually I’m not nervous when attending these types of events. But I was really nervous that day, because I knew that I wasn’t in the best condition. I knew that I didn’t sing the first song as stably as I could have. I didn’t sing it well. So then for the second song, I wanted to find that stability back. I tried. And then- I started the song too early. I started the song a beat too early. - /plays the song/ LYN: In this part (the vocalization) I was supposed to be melancholy. I was supposed to be walking towards the rear of the stage, because they had told me “Ning-ge. When you finish Offer, walk back towards the stage.” I was planning it all out. I would walk, and when it reached the end I would open up my arms as if I were embracing the light and embracing the future. I was thinking that since I didn’t sing my first song well enough, I should at least pull off the second. The arrangement started and it went to my head. - /playing it out again/ LYN: I jumped in too early. /holds a not to get back on beat/ I was dazed. I was thinking “It’s over.” I made myself look cool for nothing!! I messed up and it’s a flop. I entered the song too early. That’s such a basic thing, too!! So I was wondering how I could make up for the slip and pretended it was okay. In the later part of the verse I purposefully dragged it, to see if I could trick the viewers. Only the viewers watching live- I can’t trick anyone watching the playback later. /reenacts/ I forgot exactly what I did, but I was thinking that since I came in too early, I would drag out the end and it would look like that was all part of the plan. It would only work to trick anyone who was watching the performance at the time, but not for anyone watching the playback. 

C: Ning-ge, I thought you forgot the lyrics. LYN: I didn’t forget the lyrics. I was just too excited, that day.  Excited, nervous, and most importantly because I knew that my condition wasn’t the best because I was sick. I was really afraid of cracking, so I wasn’t relaxed. But from the moment I made my first mistake I started relaxing because I knew it couldn’t get any worse than it already was. From the moment I entered too early, it took me 3-5 seconds of nerves before I just let go completely and finished off the song.

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C: How was the fan support? LYN: It was nice. But maybe it’s because lately I’ve just been shooting in the crew and haven’t gone out much, but you shouted so loud you gave me tinnitus. I was thinking it was a but too loud. You all were shouting too fiercely. I usually finish up my business and come out side to greet you, right? But this time when I went out your shouting gave me tinnitus. When I got on my car I felt like my ears were ringing. 

C: Were you afraid? LYN: Afraid? What’s there to be afraid of? No, why would I be?? If I were walking along and you quietly came and held out a letter to me, then I would be afraid. You’re very welcoming, so there’s no need for me to be afraid. 

C: Ning-ge, you sang the wrong lyrics at 618. LYN: You just came in didn’t you, kid? Did you just arrive now? I already spent about 15 minutes talking about my experience at the 618 event. I talked about the whole process and what I was thinking. I already finished talking about it, and NOW you come in to tell me that I missed some lyrics?? You came late. You can watch the playback later.

C: When are you streaming until? LYN: I’ll stream for a while then leave because I’ve got a day of filming tomorrow and I have to go over my scenes. I have quite a lot of them in this drama. Every one of them is a challenge to shoot. It’s very complicated. But of course, I believe that- as with everything- as long as you put in enough hard work you will be rewarded. How much is unknown, but there is a reward. So that’s why even if it’s tiring to shoot this drama, I still think it’s okay. 

C: Ning-ge, when will Cicada Girl air? LYN: They’ve asked me to go do the voiceover recently. I don’t know where it is in the censorship process, but they’ve asked me to supplement the voiceover. From the actor’s perspective, I’ve been asked to redo lines that weren’t executed well or need to be changed. I really don’t have a lot of scenes in this drama. Maybe only 200 or so. It only took be a month and a half to finish all my scenes. I have very little scenes, and the whole show only has 24 episodes. All you need to do is watch and support it when it airs. LYN: A couple days ago when Ziwen-jie was doing her voiceover, she sent me a message. She asked me if I had done my part yet, and I told her that I received the notice but haven’t gone to the studio yet. She said, “It’s good! I almost laughed myself to death, it’s very amuding.” I replied, “Is that so? How is it- my acting?” She’s seeing the edited parts already, since she needs to do her lines, so I just asked her how my acting came out. “Is it okay?” She said, “Uh- okay. Let’s talk later! I need to finish my lines!” XD LYN: I’m joking. Don’t take that seriously. The content of my stream is a joke. Please don’t take it seriously. LYN: I asked her, “How’s my acting?” and she replied, “It was very good. I think it’s very amusing and it was funny when we were filming it, too.” She meant that it was fun even while we were shooting it. I let her go, since she needed to finish her lines. I’ll see it in any case, when I go to record mine.

C: I’m not a fan, I just happened to scroll by. LYN: It’s fate that brough you here. Everyone is a guest. With so many people in China, among the vast sea of people the fact that you and I are able to meet is fate. An encounter is centuries in the making, and millenium makes a marriage. In a decem-millenium (10,000 years) you scroll across my weibo. Think about how cruel fate is. You can only come across my weibo after 10,000 years! That’s fate. So, if you haven’t yet subscribed to my weibo, please do so. Thank you. - [t/n: the original quote is decade & century. 十年修得同船渡,百年修得共枕眠]

C: I’m your antifan. LYN: You’re here to turn yourself in? That’s great. Antifans are… Forget it- I feel like if I say the same thing I did the last time it won’t have any meaning. There’s a promise I made with my antifans in my last stream- you can go watch it. C: The 30-year promise. LYN: Right. I said in my last stream that as long as an antifan can continue to do so, within 30 years there will come a day where they realize they actually love me. Believe it. Let’s wait and see.

C: Lao-da, you’re trending. LYN: It’s not a hate-topic is it? I didn’t say anything! D: I didn’t say anything wrong today, did I? bgm: 世世 (Lifetime) - Legend of Shen Li OST LYN: Friends, you said- There’s a problem, which is- do you know why it’s taking me so long to look? Because I can’t find any trending topic. LYN: /is sad/  bgm: JVKE - Golden Hour LYN: /singing & “sobbing”/ LYN: See friends, people always say that LYN has ulterior motives. He’s so conniving- all of his projects are gained by drinking and chatting with people. Look at me now, though. I can even be tricked by netizens in my own stream. I’m someone who’s easily tricked by scammers. The phone scams can even trick me sometimes. So how could I have the brains to pull myself resources and work?? That’s why, you should never try to understand a person based on what others say about them. How should you understand them? From the heart. Use your heart to understand them. LYN: I had a line that went: “If you want to understand a person, don’t use your eyes.” No- the line went, “Let me tell you. If you really want to understand a person, don’t use your ears. Use your eyes.” … But I don’t think that’s accurate either. You should use your heart. Because what you see might not be the truth.

LYN: My shoulders are a little sore. I’m just exercising my back so I can relax the muscles. bgm: 万物盛开法则 (The Law of All Things in Bloom) - Zhang Dawei

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C: When will you release your album? LYN: I don’t want to discuss this topic. /sigh/ An album is really hard to make. It’s really not easy… Let’s not rush it! You ask me, “When will you release your album?” and I shall reply, “Let’s not rush it.” - [t/n: In Chinese, it rhymes: 专辑  (album - zhuānjí) & 着急 (worry/feel anxious - zháojí)]

C: You still won’t release it yet? LYN: I haven’t completed it yet. Honestly, a bunch of songs were done 2-3 years ago but I never released it because I don’t have enough. I want to release the album when I’ve collected 10 songs. I haven’t collected enough. When I listen to songs now, I kind of want to puke. I’m talking about the demos. There are just too many, and I can’t pick out which ones I like. It’s nothing to do with my style, it’s just that I’ve heard too many and now I’m numb. (recites lyrics to Jay Chou’s 世界末日 (End of the World))

C: If you don’t release one, it’ll be expired. LYN: You’re not wrong. /sigh/ I really want to let you hear some of it. Because once you do you’ll know that these songs are timeless. What I mean is that they are not bound to this era, so they won’t “expire.” C: Let’s hear some. LYN: There’s no way I would let you hear it. If I were to release it tomorrow or the day after, I would let you hear the starting rhythm or something. But you want me to play my album during my stream?! Then, who would buy it?

LYN: There’s someone in the chat who is constantly spamming what number topic I’m trending at. If you continue, and I find out you’re tricking me, I’m going to kick you out. The logic is that I can do without trending, I can just muddle my way through. But you can’t trick me. Okay? Don’t trick me. I don’t need to be popular, but I need you not to trick me.

C: Ning-ge, release a few more copies of your album, otherwise I’m afraid I won’t be able to get one. LYN: I don’t have any plans to make a physical one right now. My plan is to make a vinyl later, though like I did for my previous album. Just listening though, there’s no way you’ll need to pay- it’s going to be free. I made a promise to you before, that you would always get to listen to my music for free. My album will be free, so all you have to do is listen to it. If I do end up releasing a vinyl later, you can go buy that. But honestly, I’m not counting on it to make a profit. I don’t need it to. I haven’t reached that point. Otherwise- nevermind. I’m just not relying on these things to make money, is all. C: Can you not release a limited number of vinyls? LYN: We’ll see. It’s- if it’s not a limited number, then we have to predict how many to make in the first place. It’s actually not that much different from having a limit. 

-----

C: Lao-da, why won’t you talk to us at the airport? LYN: I did, didn’t I? “Move to the side.” (x3) /laughs/ Didn’t I tell you to move to the sides? I’m kidding! I was saying, “Don’t squeeze. Okay, I know. Don’t squeeze!!” I did talk to you! Wasn’t I very sincere? I was saying it from the heart: “Please, don’t squeeze.” How many other artists can talk to you sincerely like that, using their heart to tell you the truth? How many can do that? I can. I said, “Don’t squeeze anymore. D:” It was truly words from the heart. No airs- just a shout from my soul. “Stop squeezing!”

LYN: Because right now I’m spending most of my time in the drama crew. If I wrap up the day at 12a, and I have to go attend some even the next day, I still have to wake up early. I have to get into hair and makeup early, and shoot a day of scenes. It’s a lot different from how you would go about a company job. I shouldn’t say that. That’s just how /I/ work. If I am shooting some scenes tomorrow, then I have to do some homework the night before. I’ll go early to get my hair and makeup done, then start filming. You need to be focused on the drama during this part. After that, I turn in to wash up and then head for the airport. Why do I always use the VIP route when I fly places? It’s not because I have money or that I’m trying to show off. It’s that I really want to use that time to take a nap. Because as soon as I’m off the plane I need to go to rehearsals. I’ll wake up and start makeup at 12p the next day- very early. Because we need to snap the promo photos that you see my studio post. I’ll wake up two hours earlier to get get made up and shoot those photos so that they’re ready before the event. Later in the evening, it’s time for me to perform. Most of the time as soon as I’m done, I catch a flight back to Hengdian and it’ll land around 2-3 in the morning. I’ll be working again the next day.

LYN: I’m not saying this to tell you that I’m tired. I’m not afraid of being tired. I AM afraid of not being in the best condition I could be, and going to shoot my drama. This face of mine has to face the camera, and it was ugly enough to begin with. I’m already just average-looking. If I wake up the next day looking haggard and messing up my lines, then that would agonize me. (He doesn’t want to delay the filming because of his personal reasons.) LYN: That’s why I want to get a good rest on the road. I’ll sleep on the car, get to the airport drowsy, take a nap on the plane, then get off my flight and be ready to go to rehearsal. I’m giving myself a period of rest.

----- Break #1 LYN: I’m back. They (the neighbors) weren’t fighting. They were watching TXJ. - /thanking all the fans who make content for him: video edits, fanart, etc./ LYN: There are people who draw for me- I won’t comment on whether they draw well or not- it’s all good to me, because I can’t draw. But there are some people who are constantly making content. For example, right now. I’m streaming now but by the time I’ve finished they will have posted a drawing of me already. It doesn’t matter if it’s cartoon, sketch, manhua, or whatever style. Most of the time when I’m streaming, by the time I’m done that art is already posted. It’s nice. I just think that every drawing is- - /sets up his bgm > ​내 마음 들리나요 (Can you Hear My Heart)/ LYN: - is full of love. Every video is full of interest ans respect. So right now I’d like to thank every good friend who creates content for me. You’ve worked hard. LYN: What is this? When someone is willing to put in so much effort for you- what is that called? I think this feeling can only be described in two words: team spirit. 

C: Are you logging off now? LYN: You wish. On a night when I appear like this, how could I so easily let you go to sleep? Stay up!

C: Xiao Ning, being loved by so many people, you must move forward carrying a heavy burden. LYN: I suddenly realize that I have a long way to go in my future. I’m carrying so many people’s hopes… and disappointments. So I do not feel like I am alone. Right now, it’s possible that I am carrying many of my fans, or those of you who are watching whose wish was to become a celebrity’s dreams. Right now I represent all the hopes for the future you had when you were young. And I will continue to carry that heavy burden and move forward. C: I’m on the heavier side. LYN: And you still have the nerve to say so? That’s why it’s called “负重前行” (fu zhong qian xing), because I have to “扶” (fu = support) you in walking forward. C: Ning-ge, I am a 100+ kg soul. LYN: Your soul alone is 100+ kg? And what about your physical body? It’s okay. A girl like you is... stable.

C: When did you start? LYN: The stream? Around 9p. It’s been about an hour and a half now, let me look at my timer. I’ve been streaming for 1h, 43m. What’s wrong- you missed it, didn’t you? :) That’s why. If you haven’t yet subscribed to my weibo, please do so. I don’t always announce when I’m going to stream. Sometimes I do it when I wrap up work early. After today though… it’s probably going to be a while before I stream next. Because as of now I still owe: 5 OSTs and the supplemental voiceover for Cicada Girls. If I finish work early in the next weeks, that will be the work I have to make up for.

LYN: I forgot something earlier- That’s right. You are now listening to the drama Follow Your Heart (YXJ) OST opening theme song, called 心悠悠 (Longing Heart). Oh- excuse me- I misspoke! It’s not the opening theme- it’s the interlude! Sorry. Let me say that again. - /repeats himself, but correctly/ -- 心悠悠 (Longing Heart) - Follow Your Heart OST - /singing along, but not syncing up/ LYN: Friends, it’s like this- it’s not that I am unfamiliar with the song, but that in the recent year, this is the most mysterious OST I’ve sung. The three chorus verses are all different. I can’t remember which melody comes first. If there are detailed friends tuning in, you can focus on that- the three choruses are all different. So I’m a little confused. Let me re-familiarize myself.

C: Stop swaying. I’m dizzy. C: You’re singing this song with a strong sense of thievery. (KSTLB2 reference, bc he was rubbing his hands together) LYN: Friends- let me explain the “dizzy” thing later. First, if you don’t have any drama to watch lately you can check this one out. It’s called Follow Your Heart and there are some friends of mine in it. Including LYX-laoshi, who I’ve worked with (sung OSTs for his dramas) a few times already. The drama is pretty interesting; I’ve watched a bit. Wang Chengsi (ZY, SJYM) has also cameo-d in a couple episodes. I thought it was quite a good watch. So if you have some time you can go watch this new drama, okay? Please support it. LYN: Now let me tell you why you might have been a bit dizzy earlier. Some people just have that disposition- like carsickness. Some girls might have a weaker disposition, and when they’re on the subway or if they see something that is shaking too much they can get a sense of vertigo. But let me teach you what to do when I’m singing. - C: Once I get carsick, I’m vomiting enough to fill the car. LYN: … How much you vomit doesn’t have to do with being dizzy, but with how much you’ve eaten. If you don’t eat for a day, I’m sure you won’t have enough vomit to fill the car. It’d just be a puddle, probably. You must have eaten too much and thrown up as a result. That’s not to do with carsickness. Just eat less and you won’t vomit enough to fill the car. Maybe just half the car. Also, I don’t think you’re throwing up at just the slightest jiggle or sway of the car, right? Just eat a little less. LYN: Are you that friend from earlier who had a soul that was 100+ kg? - LYN: Anyway, what I wanted to say was- I’ll sing another song in a bit to let you test it- but sway along! If you don’t trust me, then try. Hold your phone and sway as you watch. You won’t be dizzy. If you don’t trust me then just try it. You have to follow my rhythm and sway with me. Then you won’t feel sick. Okay? And now I will sing. Let me see which song will make you move.

- /vocal fry/ LYN: Suddenly, a vocal fry register. (气泡音 - qìpào yīn) * [Vocal fry is the lowest register (tone) of your voice characterized by its deep, creaky, breathy sound] LYN: What do you mean~ I should sing a song now~ How about~~~ LYN: /laughs/ I saw a comment once that read, “What’s so good about LYN’s streams? One time I happened to click in and found he was speaking with the vocal fry register. How greasy!” LYN: Don’t you think… How could this be greasy? Don’t you think- it sounds very nice?

LYN: Someone wants to hear “一个人的北京.” I won’t be singing that. What should I sing… how about… I haven’t actually found one. C: 传承 (Inheritance) LYN: I’m really just afraid of cracking, because I know I’m not in the best condition. I don’t want it to influence any future work. I still have five OSTs I haven’t recorded yet. What if a producer or director is watching my stream and they watch me crack while singing a song and then think, “We don’t need LYN anymore.” “We don’t want you to sing this song anymore. If there’s a chance to work together next time, we’ll talk.” It might influence my future development and income. 

LYN: There’s a song called… what’s “等风来”? Oh, the song is called “天空之外” (Beyond the Sky), right? I heard this song recently, and I quite liked it. // Is there an arrangement for the male key? No? -- 天空之外 (Beyond the Sky) - Gank Your Heart OST LYN: Songs are so hard to find! Why is it so complicated. Hold on, let me check my “arrangement warehouse.” 

LYN: Oh, this I haven’t sung in a long time! -- 乞丐 (Beggar) LYN: Hold on- it’s been a long time since I last sang this and I’ve forgotten how. Sorry. I always sing this at my concert, though. C: It lagged. LYN: It didn’t lag, the mic broke. There was a small problem with it. It’s okay. // It’s not broken. // Oh, you lagged? What a coincidence. The microphone forgot the lyrics, lol.

LYN: Oh, 熬夜 (Stay Up All Night)... I will sing this song for everyone tuning in, and you who are currently staying up tonight. - /missed the timing to start singing/ LYN: What do you think? You, who are currently staying up at night- this song 熬夜 is for you. Let’s stay up together. I don’t know how the sound equipment is working tonight, but let’s just sing. If you start to feel dizzy, remember to sway with me. -- 熬夜 (Stay Up All Night) LYN: That’s about enough. I don’t have any strength left. Thank you. LYN: I’ll open another bottle of water. It feels a bit hoarse. Excuse me, sorry. 

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bgm: 莫问前程 (Don’t Ask About the Future) - White Cat Legend OST LYN: I won’t sing anymore, let’s just chat. I don’t have enough strength left.

C: Ning-ge, why hasn’t Daimi been to work for four days? LYN: She’s been in Hangzhou for a few days. We’re had her get a check-up, because she hasn’t been feeling well lately. But we found out it was nothing big, so she came back. Today she was at work on time.

C: Is she pregnant? LYN: No!

LYN: /to Daimi/ Daimi! Come here. Your fans want to see you. LYN: ?! You stepped on my headphones, hey! [t/n: OMG, I almost thought he said something… different. >.>] LYN: Hold on. Let me find some appropriate bgm for you. Alright? Wait a bit. bgm: Neon Sweetheart LYN: Okay. Say hello to all the brothers, sisters, uncles and aunties out there. They’ve been thinking of you the whole time.

C: Daimi plays with beads, too? LYN: No, I put it on her so she can play it for me. Because her oils and fur are suited for polishing them. Also, as an artist you have to have something special, right? You’ve seen dogs sit and dance, but have you ever seen a dog polishing beads? You haven’t right? So if we want to make some space for ourselves in this vast world, you have to be unique. I’m sure no one’s ever seen a dog polishing beads. So I’ve given her this image.

LYN: Look- she’s gotten so chubby. I’m just having her stand on my leg for a big, but she already can’t keep herself up. She’s panting. Listen- She’s so fat she can’t even sit!

LYN: I’m going to recite the spell now. Friends, you can observe how her modd changes. How- about- a sausage? C: There’s no reaction. LYN: No- can’t you see that she keeps licking her lips?? She’s already imagining what it will be like when she eats it. Let’s go. Hold on a sec while I get her one.

C: Ning-ge, I want to watch you feed her. LYN: My dog can’t do much else, but if you give her a whole sausage she can peel it herself. I don’t need to serve her. C: Show us. LYN: What, you even want a performance? Hold on, friends. - /shows off all the peels/ LYN: She ate all of those.

C: Ning-ge, are you sure you didn’t eat them? LYN: I… wouldn’t. Because this is a sausage for pets.

C: She didn’t peel it today? LYN: No- she’s over in her house. When she’s done eating it she’ll leave the peel there. That was probably two or three day’s worth. She eats 5-6 sticks in a day. LYN: Every morning she goes to the makeup room- she’s in a rush every morning. As soon as I wake up and start washing my face, she’s already waiting by the door. I’m washing my face, and she’s already waiting to go. She plans on just running out and onto the elevator as soon as I open the door. When we’re at the makeup room, the first thing my makeup artist does is give her a sausage. She won’t eat this first one, but hide it instead; because I have my own room. Then she’ll go to the bigger makeup room and do her rounds. She’ll come back with an egg and some bread. Then come back and eat them all together. That’s her breakfast. LYN: Most of the time she won’t eat that first sausage yet, and go fishing for bread. Sometimes there’s an egg, and she’ll eat that on the spot. If there’s no egg, she’ll bring some bread back. Then she’ll eat them together.

-----

- /smacks a mosquito and shows it off/

C: Ning-ge, the Shanghai subgroup of fans is meeting, will you come? LYN: I won’t be attending, thanks. You eat and play amongst yourselves. I know a lot of locations are gathering for a group dinner. It’s quite fun and happy to be together. I won’t be going because I don’t want to have to pay for the meal. If I had the money, I could just buy something to eat at home. But you all have fun. I won’t be going.  LYN: Jilin is also gathering, is that right? Dalian as well? Nice, have fun together. 

C: Ning-ge, if you come you’ll eat for free. LYN: For example, there’s a place where my fans are gathering and they’ve bought out a restaurant to hang out. If you invite me and I go, then that means I don’t have to pay for my share, is that it? Erm… I’m not someone who’s greedy to take advantage of such situations. The reason I’m not going is really because I don’t want to take advantage, not because I don’t want to go. I really do want to go, but I don’t want to take advantage. So I won’t be going.

C: Then come to foot the bill. LYN: I could. That’s no problem. You all know that Ning-ge is not stingy when it comes to these things. I treat my fans well. But I won’t be going. I don’t even want to go when it’s a free meal, let alone go when I have to pay the bill. What do you think I am? Many friends call me “Ning-bao” don’t they? Now you want me to go make payments- do you think I’m Alipay (zhifubao)? 

C Ning-ge, where’s your team spirit?? LYN: /laughs/ I could chat about “team spirit” with you on a normal basis but once it comes to fan-gatherings this “team spirit” disappears. Is that what you mean to say?? Are you provoking me? You’re calling me out?! LYN: This trick is called “moral kidnapping”. It’s okay- when it’s about treating fans to meals I’ve already given up on my morals.

C: You sure are stingy. LYN: This isn’t being stingy. This has nothing to do with money. It’s my life on the line. LOL, no. Let’s make an example: I go to any random fan-gathering, let’s say Beijing. They say, “Ning-ge, we’re having a fan-gathering!” and I go, “You’re meeting up? Okay- the bill’s on me. Ning-ge will treat you.” At this time, Shenyang’s group is calling it quits. “What’s the meaning of this, Ning-ge? Fans in Beijing are fans, but us in Shenyang aren’t?” So I say, “Okay. Liu-gongzi will pay the tab in Shenyang.“ After that, the Dandong fans are calling it quits. If it continues on like that, it would be fairer for everyone if I don’t pay for anyone. You all can pick up your own tabs. 

LYN: Sometimes it’s hard to be fair, but I’m trying hard to keep it even. One time I wanted to do something fun for my stream- I was thinking I could connect with fans. Because I needed content, but also because I thought I had the ability to communicate. Even if the person I connected with happened to be an antifan. If I randomly pick a user today to connect with, and they end up being an antifan. If they come in cursing, then I would kick them out immediately. But if they came in wanting to debate, I have the confidence I would be able the go for half an hour (or longer) and ultimately turn them into my fan. I’m confident I can do that. LYN: The problem is that I’ve thought about connecting with fans, but then you all complain and tell me not to. Why? Because I’m connecting with someone that’s not you. Now they’re unhappy. For example, I’ll connect with Fan A, and now Fan B is upset. “Lao-da, I’m telling you. I bought four cases of yogurt because of you. What? Is that not enough to be a fan?” Fan C didn’t get to connect either, so they say, “Yeah, Lao-da. I bought a Pomellato necklace. What is this, favoritism? Okay. I won’t be buying any more.” There’s this sense of rebellion, so I want to be fair: I won’t connect with anyone. If there comes a day when this sense of revolt can lessen, then I would select a few lucky guests and chat with them during my streams. LYN: We can chat about anything like if you need life advice, or if you have any opinions/suggestions that I should take, or your thoughts. We really can talk about it. It could be fun!

LYN: I think even with streaming or- if you are an artist- not yet a celebrity, but at least someone in this industry: singer, actor, it doesn’t matter- I always think that you should always love what you do. I even remade my streaming room- the next time I stream, if it’s all set up, you’ll see how serious I am about streaming. There’ll be new room. But I want to make the content fun as well. So I think of connecting because interaction is the charm of livestreaming. I think I can do it. C: I want to interact. LYN: See? There’s someone who’s posted that they want to interact. At this time, they are very excited to be chosen to interact with. But if I don’t choose them, do you think that they would be extremely disappointed? Would they be sad? Because of this, would they stop being my fan and start destroying me instead? In the entertainment circle there’s a methodology: it doesn’t matter which artist, if they start doing well the fans wil stop being fans and start tearing you down instead. Let me tell you, there is not one artist in this circle who isn’t afraid of this happening to them. It doesn’t matter how big of a celebrity you are, or whether you’re an actor or singer. Everyone is afraid of this technique. 

LYN: Let’s not talk about anyone else but use myself as an example. When I am shooting a drama, there are people taking sneaky pictures of me and selling them online. Let’s say they’re sold at 10rmb per photo, and someone spends 100rmb to buy ten photos. Let’s say it’s 2024.06.28- and they like LYN. When they’re looking at the photos it’s under the filter of beng a fan. They can PS or use some filter to make the photos look nice and pretty. White and shining. Young and handsome. They post those edited photos online or onto some short video platform. Okay. LYN: Let’s say on 06.29- or- today, I am looking for five fans to connect with on my stream, and I do not end up choosing the girl who bought ten photos of me. She gets angry. “I want to connect with LYN, because I have so much I want to say to him!” Of the five fans I choose, I don’t choose her. Tomorrow, on 06.29, there will be 10 raw (unedited) photos released. Maybe super unedited. She’ll put the edited and unedited photos next to each other and post, “This is the LYN you all know.” It’s not worth it. C: The unedited photos also look good! LYN: That’s why I’m saying, you have the fan-goggles on. Let me tell you something- in this industry there is not one artist who doesn’t have ugly photos. Name one. Let’s say you have a name in your head, and you’re thinking, “This person is so good-looking!” then you search this person’s name with “___ ugly photo” at the end. See what the results are. You don’t need to type people’s names into my chat! Just think of a name and search it yourself. There’s not one person who doesn’t have them. That’s why when fans tell me that they think I’m handsome I want to reply that it’s because of the fan-goggles. I’m not handsome. I’m afraid, too. So let’s not connect next time. 

LYN: I hope, though, that those of you who are watching my stream right now- most of you, about 80% are my fans. 80% of you are my fans, so starting today could we swear a sacred oath (歃血为盟 - smear the lips with blood when taking an oath)? If one day you stop being my fan, could you not destroy me on your way out? Can you promise me that? Let’s sign an agreement today June 28, 2024, that one day if you stop being my fan you won’t step on me on the way out. Can you do that? You can leave, but not at my expense. Can you? LYN: I have blood on my hand- it’s mosquito blood. The scared oath. I’ve got the blood. LYN: That’s the first thing, not to step on me on your way out. The second is, many of you probably go online to buy leaked photos. If one day you stop being my fan, could you format your storage disk? Format your storage disk for me. Can you do it? Promise me. Thank you. You can do it. LYN: It’s a gentleman’s agreement.

C: Ning-ge, where can I buy leaked news and photos? LYN: The fact that you’re even asking me this question now means that you should never go to buy them. I see you typing those words from through the monitor and can see your innocent eyes! If you go outside, you’re likely to get scammed by others!! Don’t go online trying to buy these things and end up getting scammed! I can tell how innocent you are from the fact that you’ve typed that questions. Your eyes still shine with light and you can see the word “INNOCENT” in them. Don’t even think about it. If you’re scrolling your phone and come across what others have bought and posted, you can look. But don’t even think about purchasing them for yourself. You don’t need to spend your own money for it. There’s no need.

C: Ning-ge, if I had bad photos of you I wouldn’t erase them. I’ll sell them to you. LYN: That’s a little bit illegal. Are you a criminal? Are you blackmailing me?? “Ning-ge, I have a BUNCH of ugly photos of you. Send me 200rmb immediately or I’ll post them all online.”

C: Ning-ge, will you still stream in ten years? LYN: I don’t think I would still be acting in ten years, but I’m sure that in ten years I will still be streaming. Whether as an actor or a singer, there will always come the possibility that you will be struck out or replaced over time. But streaming is something that I personally want to do. It is not influenced by outside factors. As long as you give me a platform, as long as Weibo allows me to stream, I will keep streaming. That’s all there is to it. I only need a platform and I will stream willingly. But for acting, it’s other people who find me to act- it’s passive. 

C: Do a few magazine shoots. LYN: Magazines… I don’t have the time to do them. I also think… I’m too ugly and I’m not worthy to be in magazines. [t/n: He’s also said before that he doesn’t want people to pay for something like a MAGAZINE, just because he’s in it. He wants people to spend money on things that can be of use.]

C: Do you want to be Weibo Livestream King for 10 consecutive years?? LYN: Livestream King is a great honor to me. I’ll try hard to make it happen. I’ll do my best. C: Start a live-streaming industry. LYN: No, I should just do my own stream well. I can’t be involved in any sort of industry.

C: Ning-ge, in ten years become a streaming-type yxh. LYN: …? For what?? I already said that when I was 60- was it 60 or 70? I forgot.- that I would share everything I’ve encountered in this entertainment industry with you. LYN: Was it 60? Then when I’m 60.

C: Lao-da, could I take your raw photos and trade them for an autographed one? LYN: … LYN: “Ning-ge, in this card I have 10 unedited photos of you. Could I trade them for a personalized autographed photo? Okay? I hope that you can write: “___ is the most beautiful.”” LYN: The way they’ve done this has avoided punishment under law. Because it’s true that they’re not doing it for profit or anything, not that I understand it very much. That is- I don’t think it’s worth suing you over… But this underhanded tactic does make me a little uncomfortable. LYN: But let me tell you- everyone’s words can create an image of your face. Through the words you’ve typed, I can imagine your face and the tone of your voice. For example, for the person earlier I’ve already described their face: two big round eyes, full of clarity. “Ning-ge, where can I buy leaked news and photos?” They were like that- I’m sure they’re as I imitated just now. Now this person, I’m sure, looks like this: “Xiao Ning-ah.. If I were to have your unedited photos and I wanted to exchange them for a personalized autograph… Can I?” They must be like that! Cunning and wicked. Friends, I’m sure they’re like that. How terrifying! LYN: The friend who asked this question, you can go look in the mirror. Tell me I didn’t look just like you.

C: Ning-ge, you’re on my glasses case and my teacher saw it. Should I cower? LYN: Through this comment, this friend has already got me figuring out what they look like and how they speak. /repeats the question/ You must look like this- /puts on a pair of round frames and makes himself a little… nerdy looking and innocent, I guess/. Go look in the mirror, do you look like this? It’s… innocent, but sincere. Sincere, but also a little cute and naive. That’s you. Go look in the mirror.

C: Ning-ge, why don’t you go on Call Me by Fire? LYN: /laughs/ CMBF is… is that the sisters or the brothers? The brothers, right? The thing is, a while ago Yizhe was (going to be) on it. I think he was on it. That’s what I heard- or rather, he had sent me a message. If I call him Yizhe, you might not know- it’s Qian Zhao (YNGS). If I am NYZ, he is QZ. You get it if I put it that way, right? So, QZ went to attend CMBF, I think. He wanted me to record a short video for him, to cheer him on. I asked him, “What am I supposed to say?” and he said, “Just cheer me on. We’re friends, right? So you can say, “I heard WYZ is going to be on this show, and I hope he gets a good ranking.” It’s just like supporting you for the gaokao. LYN: But I was thinking- If I’m going to record a message for him, I want to be different from the others. I need to record something like, “Hello, everyone. I am Liu Yuning. In CMBF, I hope my good friend Yizhe can show off his charms, get a good ranking, and debut in the final group!” That’s standard, right? But I wanted to be different. I wanted to record something that would make people remember WYZ and remember LYN. Maybe even hate me. Because I also have a good friend called Fang Yilun- that is, Yu Shisan (YNGS). I’m saying it this way so you can better put a face to the name. YSS. He was on CMBF last year (actually, 2022), but he only went for one round. (一轮 - yī lún). So… his name was not very auspicious. Fang Yilun, who was only on the show for one round (yī lún). I was thinking of recording one for WYZ, “Hello, everyone. I am Liu Yuning. I’m YZ’s friend and heard he would be attending CMBF. We have a good friend in common, FYL, but he came back after the first round. Therefore, since your name is Wang Yizhe, you- might only be there for one part.” But I was thinking about it and came to the conclusion that wasn’t quite appropriate. One’s Yilun and the other’s Yizhe… that’s not good! So later I thought this joke wouldn’t fly. My friends would have a falling out! So then I just recorded a standard one for him. LYN: I just shouldn’t have thought in that direction in the first place. I don’t know how the competition is going, and I don’t dare to ask him. Of course, I don’t mean to belittle him! When I was on Singer 2019, I came back after one round too, didn’t I. That’s why I’m called… Liu Yining (一宁). I went and very obediently, very serenely (宁静) came back. I went, kept introducing myself- “I am Liu Yining” and came back. Only one round. It’s the same. We’re all the same. Our names just aren’t auspicious. We aren’t suited for competitions.

LYN: Alright friends, it’s about time. I hope you had a relaxing, happy, and wonderful night. It was great to have you and I hope you enjoyed yourself. Let’s meet again in the next stream! If you haven’t yet subscribed to my weibo, please do so. I am Modern Brothers Liu Yuning. I hope we can meet again in the next stream. LYN: I’ll go wash up quickly and review my scenes for tomorrow. Goodnight, everyone!

[inbarfink]

Okay, this is probably just me being Very Silly but… I think Roleswap AUs are a lot of fun, not just like… as a character design exercise thingy, but as a character exploration and analysis exercise… thingy.

Like, you know, it’s a game of ‘what would this character do if they were in that situation that this other character was in?’, ‘how much would change if those were the circumstances of this character’s life?’, ‘how much do you have to change about a character to make them work in this specific narrative role - and how much you just cannot change without making the character unrecognizable?’

So I’ve had a lot of fun playing around with my Adventure Time Roleswap AUs (you can get a better look at them with the AT Roleswap Tag on my blog). 

And I’ve been thinking if I could do a similar thing for Invader Zim - both because IZ has these clear Four Leads that you can swap around very neatly (actually much more than AT does lol) and… mostly because I’ve been going through yet another of my Literally Can’t Think of Anything but Invader Zim Phases and Roleswap AUs offer an exciting new opportunity to Rotate These Characters in My Head.

(For the sake of clarity, I’ll be using ‘the Alien’, ‘the Kid’, ‘the Robot’ and ‘the Sibling’ when referring to the Narrative Roles of Zim, Dib, GIR and Gaz respectively. So if I’m talking about a Dib-Zim Roleswap I’ll be talking about Zim-as-the-Kid and Dib-as-the-Alien. It might lead to weird turns-of-phrase later down the line, like Sibling!Dib when Dib is obviously always a sibling - but at least I hope it’ll be less clunky and more clear that way lol)

So, yeah, I had some Thoughts and Considerations about the idea of a Zim-Dib GIR-Gaz Roleswap, but all-in-all things fall into place pretty easily. Playing on Dib’s relatively-more-heroic role and his only-sane-man shtick by having him as a kinda Irken Rebel - he might still have the interest in magic and supernatural things that Mainstream Irken Science does not acknowledge, but mostly he’s seeing as ‘crazy’ for such ridiculous concepts as ‘conquering the galaxy just for the sake of it is Bad Actually’ and ‘maybe it’s kinda stupid to pick our leaders based entirely on how tall they are’ and ‘the Tallest are obviously blatantly figureheads and the Control Brains are running the show’. 

And to add insult to injury, it’s not just that his fellow Irkens don’t listen to his ideas - it’s that they don’t even have enough respect to treat him as an actual dangerous enemy of the state. Instead he’s seen as a crackpot and a joke. He’s basically constantly avoiding the obvious Existence Evaluation he deserves because the Tallests keep procrastinating it and pushing it back in favor of more ‘important things’. And, like, it’s not like Dib wants to be executed by the state for the crime of free thought… but it’ll be nice to know that he’s seen as a real threat. 

And of course while he’s better than most Irkens at the whole ‘Space Imperialism is Bad Actually’ thing, he still hasn’t unlearned all of the Irken propaganda about their own superiority (he’s got a Green Savior Complex basically) … and also he's got his own complex about his own superiority. Like, yeah, he’s infuriated by his people’s obsession with height because it’s a stupid illogical prejudice… but also specifically because it makes people disrespect him. When his two lazy and stupid smeethood bullies were made supreme leaders of the empire that was kinda the last straw for him.

Oh, in this AU the Tallests are basically the Same except their colors are switched. So now Red is the sillier and dumber one and Purple is the relatively more competent one. And on one hand Dib is the only Irken who seems to understand how thoroughly unfit to rule these two clowns are but he is also kinda obsessed with making them acknowledge his superiority even though he knows their opinion shouldn’t matter and thus making him the biggest clown of them all, in a way.

I’m still ironing out the details of how he gets to Earth. Something about using his hacking skills to infiltrate Operation Impending Doom 2 to try and sabotage it from within. Then, like, maybe the Earth ‘assignment’ was a trap laid by the Control Brains to get him out of the way. Or maybe he picked Earth because although the Empire sees it as unimportant - Dib thinks it has powerful arcane significance that makes it the perfect foundation for his resistance against the Empire or something like that.

I’m mostly thinking which of these is the snappiest and easiest to explain, but I do enjoy the idea of it being a trap cause it creates the possibility of a “the Alien discovers their plan is a big fat lie” scenario like in ETF, but rather than being utterly despondent and depressed like Canon Zim - Alien!Dib will be joyous and jubilantly validated at the idea that he was considered a notable enough threat to get out of the way with such an elaborate trick.

And Zim as the son of Professor Membrane is also a fun concept to consider. It’s very funny to think of him as still a megalomaniac trying to take over the world while also being just a human kid. He wants to defeat Dib because he sees him as a threat for his world domination plans (maybe not even understanding that Dib is not actually a world-conquering rival) and cause he believes that if he exposes or kills Dib he can get his hands on the advanced alien tech, which is the edge he needs in order to take over the world.

You can justify his world-conquering-obsession as, like, him growing up under the pressure of living up to his father’s legacy and he figured the only way to escape Membrane’s shadow is to go totally against everything he stands for, or that he’s subconsciously seeking revenge against the world and humanity for taking away his father's love and attention, or that he’s hoping that if he becomes an Actual Threat to the world, his dad will have to pay attention to him for a change ,or maybe it’s just ‘Zim is Just Weird Like That’. Or probably some combination of all of the above.

GIR and Gaz slot pretty effortlessly into their new roles. Sibling!GIR could be literally Zim’s little brother, or like, some genetically engineered dog monster Professor Membrane made in an afternoon. But personality-wise there’s no need to change much outside of maybe needing to tone a human version of GIR down just a tad because a human child has some biological, legal and physical limitations that GIR would otherwise lack.

Robot Gaz is basically like ‘Dib stole and reprogrammed a SIR Unit to have Free Will, still somehow struggles with the idea that Free Will means she can disobey him as well’. Pretty much as soon as they landed on Earth she acclimated better than Dib did and developed a fondness for Earth’s junk food and video games. She generally does her own thing and doesn’t really listen to Dib’s schemes to develop Earth’s defenses or harness some sort of supernatural forces against the Irken Empire or foil Zim’s plans or whatever - but mostly because disagrees with Dib’s methods and attitude rather than his goals. 

She does prefer the Earth over the Irken Empire and she does have some affection for Dib despite also finding him so annoying. She just refuses to cooperate with plans she thinks are frivolous or stupid or plainly just for Dib’s ego. When push really comes to shove, when she actually believes Dib and/or the Earth is in danger, she would come to help… usually.

So yeah, that Roleswap works pretty smoothly, but the problem starts if I try to do the two other sides of this Roleswap cube. the 'Invader GIR' and 'Invader Gaz' scenarios. This is where I get stuck... And the thing isn’t that the characters aren’t complex and versatile enough - I actually think the IZ characters are pretty multidimensional in their ridiculousness. 

It’s just that Dib and Zim’s psychology are really designed for them to play the roles of Protagonist and Antagonist - they’re very much defined to their very core by how driven and motivated they are and how much they want to take center stage. Zim's so self-obsessed he pretty much has to take over any narrative you place him in. And like 50% of Dib’s psyche can be summarized as a terminal case of Main Character Syndrome. Meanwhile, while GIR and Gaz have their own motivations - but GIR’s are generally too wild, capricious and frivolous to actually motivate a Plot, while Gaz’s very much defined by how mundane all of her motivations are. So you really have to work extra hard to make sure Zim and Dib, even when relegated to the sidekick role, don’t still find a way to steal the show.

Honestly, doing Zim as the Robot is actually something I think I can make work. If you just play up a few of Zim’s wackier elements - and especially his blind obedience and dedication to his superiors (which in this case would be Alien GIR), I think you can get a version of Zim that is recognizably Zim while still sticking mainly to the Wacky Comic Relief role.

(And for the record, Robot Zim is a modified SIM Unit, which is a Standard Issue Minion. What does the Z stand for? The Z stands for ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM, obviously!)

Sibling Dib was kind of a weird journey for me because at first I thought I had an easy solution for it - just Bill-fy Dib! Keep all of Dib’s bolster and UFO obsession stuff, but minus the fact that he can actually recognize an alien standing in front of his face. Probably because he just doesn’t want to admit his sister found an alien before he did - he just refuses to believe GIR is an alien and going off his wild-goose chases against his own phony conspiracy theories.

But… I think that idea is, like, too effective at keeping Dib away from the limelight? I mean, that would basically relegate him exclusively to Comic Relief and someone Gaz could have conversations with and very little plot relevancy. And I think we should be able to do better by Sibling Dib. Some way to keep him away from the Main Character Role, but still have him as a relevant and useful character from time-to-time?

Putting GIR in any sort of lead role is the much bigger problem. Like I said - GIR just too deranged and too uncontrollable to hold most plotlines, even on Invader Zim. And I can imagine grounding him just a tad, you can do, like ‘alien Invader comes to earth in order to conquer it - realizes he likes junk food and stupid TV so much that he doesn’t want to do it anymore, but still lacks any real concerns for human life or morality’. You know, I’m imagining wacky misadventures that are basically in the spirit of ‘what if SpongeBob SquarePants lacked any sense of right and wrong’ - and that will be a viable narrative, but I’m worried it’s getting too far away from the sheer id-like essence of GIR.

On the Kid corner, obviously you can make narratives in which Gaz and her motivations move the story along - Invader Zim Canon did it multiple times. It’s more of a question of how much we can keep this up. Like, okay, this is purely me and my stupid personal hang-ups. But what I’m looking for is an AU that really feels like it could be its own standalone show, and obviously it’s not going to be the same as Canon IZ - like the Invader Dib roleswap is going to have a slightly more standard heroic narrative compared to the total Villain Protagonist setup of the canon - but I want to make sure everyone fulfill their new Narrative Roles to the level you can imagine a Variety of Episode Plots that fit the 11-minutes-and-occasional-double-length format of IZ. 

And with Gaz being really defined by the fact that she cares more for being left alone or the mundane things in life or enacting terrible revenge in the name of the mundane things in life than for any of the sci-fi shit or saving the world- it kinda limits the amount of plots she should be willing to participate in and/or requires a lot of extra Set-Up to explain why she’s emotionally involved in the plot. 

I mean, I can certainly imagine a story about a hedonistic would-be Invader making a bizarre harebrained scheme to get his hands on a ridiculous amount of tacos which somehow spirals into attracting the ire of some scarily competent and spiteful little girl by, like, interrupting her Super Mario Odyssey speedrun or something and so she causally takes down his whole operation. But that sort of setup works better for a sort of hyperformulastic show like ‘Phineas and Ferb’- and ‘Phineas and Ferb’ is lovely, but Invader Zim really benefits from a wide variation of plots and episode structure. 

(That’s also the problem with a Tallests-Zim Membrane-Dib roleswap. Although the idea of an P&F style sketch starring the two lazy goofball Invaders who are just trying to get their incredibly obnoxious and megalomaniac boss off their back and are repeatedly accidently foiled by a brilliant hypercompetent child genius who also somehow remains consistently oblivious to the fact that they are aliens trying to take over the world is very Fun and I should probably do something Separate with it later)

And then there’s the idea of a Zim-Gaz GIR-Dib roleswap which is… I don’t even know where to start. That’s pretty much what that one body-switch-themed guest issue of the IZ Comics used basically because it’s the one that breaks the show’s premise the most thoroughly. The show’s most ambitious and least competent character swapped with its least ambitious and most competent and the most grounded character is swapped with the most unhinged. I am still really stuck on how to make it work?

The only real idea I have for now is maybe taking inspiration from Alien Gaz from that aforementioned comic issue’s characterization - not of Gaz-as-Zim, but of Zim-as-Gaz. Something about an Alien Invader who is genuinely invested in conquering the planet but also she keeps getting distracted? It’s hard to really say when, like I said, that’s really the only thing I have right now. 

Perhaps I need to think about all of this a bit more, or perhaps the real lesson of this Character Exploration Thingy is just that those kinda roleswaps just don’t work with the Invader Zim cast?

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Endure VII: Gear

Series Synopsis: You and Eren Jaeger have been best friends since the age of two, but the two of you are destined for an inevitable tragedy. The world you have been born into is cruel; it is one where friends are traitors and enemies are allies, one where you find yourself doubting everything you've ever known. In this life, mistakes are fatal, and you must be careful, lest you make one too many.

Chapter Synopsis: You get to use the ODM gear for the first time.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Female Reader, Armin Arlert x Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.1k

Content Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, sexual abuse (non-explicit), major character death, angst, original characters included

You were used to being bad at things. You were used to being weaker than Mikasa and dumber than Armin and more scared than Eren. Therefore, you did not have high hopes when you were hoisted into the ODM harness for the aptitude test. The only advantage you had was the tips that Petra and Levi had given you.

Then again, that was quite the advantage indeed. How many of these cadets could say that they had been given advice from humanity’s strongest soldier? And Petra was no slouch herself. She had one of the highest titan kill counts, as well as an incredible amount of assists. Her prowess with the ODM was perhaps not legendary, but it was not to be discounted, either.

You tried to remember all of this as your examiner raised you into the air. The reassuring words of the two experienced Scouts rang in your head, and you did your best to follow them.

Keep your core tight and your muscles limber, engaged but not resistant. If you overthink it, you’ll fall, so it’s better to just not think at all. Channel your inner T. This was Petra.

The key to the ODM gear is to not fight it. Most people try to outmuscle the gear, and for people who are big in size, that’s fine — to a point. But it’ll never work for you and I. The gear will automatically self-balance, so there’s no need to force anything. Just let it do its job and focus your energy and strength on maneuvering your body. Try not to stay still, either. The gear is meant for movement, and counterintuitive though it may seem, the more you move and the faster you go, the better your balance will be. Levi had written an entire paragraph about how to effectively utilize the ODM gear in one of his letters, and his detailed advice combined with Petra’s allowed for you to stay upright in the air.

After a moment, you began to feel what Levi was talking about as the gear started wobbling a little. You gave your examiner a worried look, but she only raised her eyebrows at you, perhaps wondering what you would do. Taking this as a challenge, you relaxed your body further and let yourself swing back and forth, making sure the examiner could tell it was on purpose.

The examiner nodded in approval before lowering you and helping you out of the gear. She handed you a bottle of water, which you accepted gratefully.

“You were excellent with that. Your instincts are uncanny,” she said. You blushed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I wish that was the truth, but honestly, I have a lot of prior knowledge. I live with Petra Ral — she’s a Scout, you know, and part of the Special Ops Squad — and Captain Levi is my pen pal. They both gave me a ton of advice, so I had a bit of an unfair advantage, you see,” you said. The examiner looked surprised before nodding.

“Ah, I see. Regardless of how you got your knowledge, the fact remains that you have it, and you definitely pass. You say you’re...pen pals...with Captain Levi? Then I’ll have to assume that he saw something in you, which only leads me to believe that you would’ve been fine either way. Congratulations, Cadet L/N,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you said, saluting at her before looking around, “Um, is there something else I’m supposed to do for the rest of the day?”

“I believe all of today is just devoted to aptitude testing, so no. Feel free to walk around and cheer your friends on or take a break. It’s up to you,” she said.

“It’s pretty nice out today. I’ll go see how everyone else is doing! Thanks again!” you said, waving at the woman before jogging off.

Tullia, who had gotten the same advice as you had, did similarly well to you. Mikasa and Jean were naturals with it. Mikasa looked almost bored, her newly-cut hair swaying softly in the breeze. She had decided to chop it off because, according to Eren, it would get in the way with the ODM gear. You were saddened that you wouldn’t be able to braid it anymore, but she looked good. You doubted you could pull it off as well as she did. Eren had tried to get you to cut your hair, too, but you told him in no uncertain words to screw off and worry about his own hair. You liked your hair long, and you weren’t going to just cut it because he said you should.

Armin was clearly struggling with staying upright, though this was no surprise. He was unbelievably smart, but physical pursuits had always been beyond him. Still, he endured and he prevailed, and when he was lowered, his face red and his breath coming in huffing pants, he wore a wide smile on his face.

“You did it, Min-Min! Nice job!” you said, patting him on the shoulder. He blew his hair out of his face and nodded at you, sighing in relief.

“I can’t believe it. I thought it was the fields for me, but here I am,” he said.

“Here you are,” you agreed.

“I think I’m going to sit down though. Sina, that took a lot out of me,” he said, sitting criss-cross on the ground and massaging his temples.

“Do you want me to stay here?” you said, giving him a worried glance. He shook his head.

“No, it’s fine! I’m alright. We’ll have plenty of time later to talk. Speaking of, we should hang out during one of our off days. Maybe have a tea party or something, for old times’ sake,” he said, suddenly shy.

“Sure!” you said brightly. You had missed your tea parties with Armin. Never had you thought you’d get to have one again, and you were not going to let the opportunity go to waste. You refused to take your friends for granted anymore.

“Y/N, watch this!” Connie shouted. He was currently being tested, though his examiner was sitting on the ground with his face buried in his hands.

“What, Connie?” you said.

“DO A BARREL ROLL!” Sasha shouted from where she was spinning in her ODM gear. Connie lit up at this suggestion, and your eyes widened as he prepared himself to execute the feat.

“Connie, no!” you said.

“Connie, yes!” he said, flipping backwards. To your surprise, it was nearly flawless, and he beamed at you when he had straightened, shooting you a thumbs up.

“You passed ten minutes ago! Let me lower you!” his examiner groaned.

“Wait, I did?” Connie said, freezing as he mulled this over. The examiner took advantage of the short boy’s indecision to hastily return him to the ground and undo the buckles of his ODM gear.

“Yes! By the walls, yes!” he said.

“Sick!” Connie said, marching over to stand with you before placing his hands on his hips, “Wait a moment. So I’m not a failure and a disgrace? I knew it!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” the examiner muttered before motioning Bertholdt forward.

“Who said you were a failure and a disgrace?” you wondered. Connie winked at you.

“The voices,” he said, making wiggling motions with his fingers, presumably to represent these mysterious voices.

“Oh?” you said.

“Mhm. I’m going to go watch Sasha. You coming?” he said.

“Looking at Sasha makes me dizzy, if I’m being honest with you. I’ll just hang around here,” you said.

“Have fun, Mrs. Springer!” he said cheerfully before running off, not giving you the chance to refute his claims. You shook your head in amusement, turning and then promptly running straight into something.

No, someone. Looking up, you were met with the face of Reiner Braun. He seemed surprised, and you immediately stumbled backwards.

“Reiner! I am so so so sorry!” you said, clasping your hands in front of you as you frantically apologized for literally slamming your face into his chest. He began to laugh.

“It’s fine,” he said, waving it off dismissively.

“But I feel bad! Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” you said, facepalming at your own idiocy. Reiner was the oldest cadet, so to have done something like this to him was even worse than if you had done it to, say, Marco.

“If you want to make it up to me, you could always let me do the same to you,” he suggested. You looked down at your body and then back up at him.

“Um, no. I don’t feel that bad. Sorry,” you said. He grinned sheepishly.

“It was worth a shot,” he said.

“It really wasn’t,” you informed him. He shrugged, unaffected by the now-weird atmosphere. You decided if he wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, you weren’t either, so you resolved to forget about the entire encounter and his strange attempt at lightening the mood.

“Well, moving on, how was your aptitude test?” you said.

“Great! I passed, and that’s about all anyone can ask for. My examiner seemed pretty happy with me, so that was doubly good,” he said.

“Oh, awesome! And yeah, same, though unlike you, it wasn’t out of some sort of natural talent or skill. I already knew the theory of it all, so putting it into practice wasn’t that difficult,” you said. He patted you on the shoulder.

“S’okay, Y/N. Not everyone has to be born with special abilities, or else they wouldn’t be special, right?” he said. All of your pride in your earlier accomplishments vanished at his words. You had thought Reiner would be impressed anyways, or at least congratulate you, but with a simple sentence, he had crushed any self-confidence you had gained. You found yourself desperately wanting to prove yourself to him as someone special. Someone worthy of his praise.

“Right,” you muttered.

“Don’t worry about it so much! I’ll take care of you,” he said, puffing out his chest in an attempt to seem more masculine and strong. You didn’t have the cruelty to tell him that Mikasa and Eren had already beaten him to claiming that job.

“Thanks, Reiner, but I think I’m okay,” you said. He locked eyes with you, and something about his fierce amber gaze felt as though you had seen it before. He trapped you in place; but it was not the good kind of trapped, the way you felt when Eren looked at you. You felt like a deer being stalked by a hunter, but you shook it off. You were no deer. You didn’t know what you were, but you knew that what it wasn’t was some sort of helpless prey.

“Now you’re being silly,” he said, and the words were almost tangible, slithering down your spine like a serpent. You were cold, so very cold. You were standing directly in the sun, but it wasn’t enough. Something about the way Reiner spoke made you believe wholeheartedly that he had seen you at your weakest, during the fall of Shiganshina, being carried to safety by Petra, even if it was silly. You had only just met him yesterday, after all.

“I’m going to go find Eren,” you said. Cold, cold, only a fire could ward away this sort of chill. Reiner watched you go with eyes that tracked your every movement. He was feral and untamed, an unchained wolf running with mere lap dogs, but you were too young to see it and too naive to care.

Eren looked determined as he was strapped into the ODM gear. Catching his eye, you offered him a small smile of encouragement. This was it, his time to prove that he could be a Scout. You had no doubts about his abilities. Even you had been able to, and you weren’t anywhere near his level.

His examiner raised him up, and his eyes shone with happiness as he was doing it, he was doing it, he was really flying, just like the hero you had believed him to be when you both were children.

And then he came crashing to the ground like a bird that had broken its wings. Dust plumes raised up around him, causing you to cough as you stared at him in abject shock. Eren...had fallen. How was this possible?

A selfish part of you felt vindicated. He had failed. Eren had failed, and you hadn’t. You were better than him. You were better than him. You wanted to scream it to the world. You wanted to scream it at Reiner. You wanted Reiner to know. More than anything, you wanted Reiner to know.

Then you realized what this meant. If Eren couldn’t use the gear, he couldn’t be a Scout. If he couldn’t be a Scout, he couldn’t see the outside world. He would be stuck in the very walls he had so despised for his entire life, powerless to fight back against the monsters that had stolen your families.

“Let me try again!” Eren shouted as the examiners clicked their tongues in disappointment. They exchanged glances before hesitantly raising him again. You held your breath. He would get it this time, you knew it. He would be a Scout, and you would be better than him, and things would be alright again, and nobody would know about your horrible thoughts.

But he didn’t get it. He fell and he fell, over and over again. The ground cut at his face, and rivers of blood rushed from his head, mixing with the dry dirt, damning the earth beneath him and creating crimson mud that steamed slightly in the heat.

“I think that’s enough. He needs to get his wounds looked at before they become infected,” you interjected as he was raised again. The sun had passed its peak in the sky, and most of the other cadets had long since gone inside for lunch and to escape the afternoon’s high temperature. Only you and Eren remained, mosquitos beginning to nip at your neck. You slapped them away in irritation before giving the examiners a beseeching look.

“Girly’s right. Sorry, kiddo, doesn’t seem like you have what it takes. You can have a final try tomorrow when your head isn’t covered in blood and bruises, but you might just want to cut your losses and move on. Working in the fields isn’t that bad of an existence, you know,” the examiner said, lowering the boy to the ground, where he immediately collapsed in defeat. The examiners gave him sympathetic looks before leaving him to sob on the ground. You tentatively crept over to sit beside him.

“Come on, Eren. Let’s get you bandaged,” you said, pulling him to his feet and wincing at the injuries that littered his face. He hung his head and let you lead him to the infirmary, where you dampened a rag and wiped him off.

“You don’t look that bad now that you’re clean!” you said, trying to be optimistic, though by the dull glare he gave you, he was not convinced.

“Not that bad? You heard the examiner, I don’t have what it takes! How have I gotten this far and then been bested by the ODM gear? You were good at it, right? Tell me your secrets!” he said. You sighed and began to wrap a bandage around his forehead.

“I just got advice from Levi and Petra, that’s all. I’m not anything special,” you said. He grabbed your hands, forcing you to stop bandaging him.

“Levi like Captain Levi of the Scouts?” he said.

“Yeah, him. We’re pen pals,” you said.

“You very conveniently forgot to mention that yesterday,” Eren said through gritted teeth.

“Oops, sorry. Um, Levi and I are pen pals?” you said. He shook his head, letting you finish your task.

“Well, don’t be shy. What’s the scoop? What’s the magic key to using the gear?” he said.

“Basically, just don’t fight it. You’ve got to relax into it. Keep your muscles strong but flexible, that’s all, I guess. Oh, and staying still makes it harder to balance. It’s meant for motion, so it’s almost easier to use while in motion, if that even makes sense. Sorry, I’ll let you read the letter he sent me, it’s probably clearer. I’m not that good at describing it,” you said.

“Reading a letter that Captain Levi himself wrote? Y/N, if you let me read that, I’ll literally marry you,” he said seriously. The thought caused a funny feeling in your stomach that you put down to disgust.

“Please refrain. I do not want to marry you, remember?” you said.

“Oh. Well, can I still read the letter, at least?” he said.

“Sure, but maybe after dinner. Both of us had to skip lunch, and I’m hungry. Soon, I’ll be hangry, and then I’ll be yelling at you, my poor concussed baby,” you said with a smirk. As you had expected, he immediately turned red and glared at you.

“Let’s not forget which one of us is older here, Miss Baby!” he shouted, crossing his arms.

“Little baby Eren,” you sang, “Do you want me to swaddle you? Get you a pacifier?”

“No!” he huffed.

“Yes!” you said, “Your father taught me a little about infants. Have you been eating your vitamins?”

“Stop it. I can carry you. You’re the baby here,” he said.

“I can carry you too!” you argued.

“Oh yeah? Try it,” he dared you. Now you couldn’t back down, so with a deep breath, you wrapped your arms around him and tried to lift him off of the table he was sitting on. He did not budge, and eventually, you gave up.

“Fine, I can’t carry you, but I can use the ODM gear, so ha,” you said pettily. Eren looked crestfallen at this.

“That’s true. But you’re going to help me,” he said, and he did not frame it as a question but rather a statement. It was a fair thing to say; you would help him. Of course you would.

“Yes, but we’re going to eat. Let’s go. Hopefully we won’t be stuck with everyone’s gross leftovers again like we were yesterday. And by we I mean Tullia and I, of course,” you said.

“Okay, let’s go. Thanks for cleaning me up, by the way,” he said.

“Anytime. Hey, maybe you should ask Jean and Mikasa for help. The two of them were the best at it out of all of us,” you said.

“I’ll ask Jean, but not Mikasa,” Eren said with a shudder.

“Why not? I’m sure she’d be happy to help you,” you said as you entered the Mess Hall.

“She’d use it as a reason for why I shouldn’t be in the military. Some ‘give up on your dreams’ type of shit or something. You understand, right? You know why I can’t give up?” he said.

“I understand that you’re a stubborn little boy that does what he wants and sends everyone that tries to stop him straight to hell, yes. I know you can’t give up, and I’m not telling you you should, but at the same time, it might not be your choice. If you can’t master the gear, you can’t fight titans. It’s not a complicated concept,” you said. He deflated at the harsh words, but you knew he needed to hear them.

“I know all of that! Do you think I don’t? I just can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do!” he complained, grabbing a tray and two bowls, ladling soup into both of them and handing you the one that was slightly more full.

“Beats me. Look, Jean’s sitting by himself. We can ask him,” you said, putting a steamed potato on your plate and tossing another at Eren, who caught it deftly with one hand and nodded.

“I’m sure he’ll be able to help me! He’s a real prodigy, and a stand-up guy, too. Yeah, Jean’s great!” Eren said happily.

“Surprised to hear you of all people singing my praises, Jaeger, but I’ll admit that it’s pretty nice. Now what do you want?” Jean said as you slid onto the benches beside him. He did not even acknowledge you, and you had to admit that you felt more than a little put out by this. Still, you were sitting with Jean for Eren, not for you, so you brushed aside your feelings and motioned for your best friend to start talking.

“I need your help, Kirstein. I have to be able to use the ODM gear and, well, you’re the best at it, so what’s your advice?” he pleaded before shoving a spoonful of soup in his mouth and giving Jean an expectant look, his eyes wide with desperation.

“My advice is to either be born naturally talented or get the hell out. Weren’t you just saying yesterday that those who are weak don’t belong here and should return to the fields? How ironic,” Jean said flippantly.

“He asked you nicely. You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” you said.

“Aw, you need your little girlfriend to defend your honor?” Jean snickered.

“Seeing as you have neither, can you really be talking?” you said dryly. Both boys looked taken aback; Eren at the fact that you had not denied being his girlfriend, and Jean that you had insulted him. You sighed and stood, grabbing Eren’s arm with one hand and your tray in the other.

“What happened?” Eren said.

“He’s not going to be of any help to us. Come on, we can read Levi’s letters, and then maybe you can ask Reiner to show you or something,” you said, dragging him out of the Mess Hall with you, ignoring the way Jean glared at the both of you. What was his problem? It was like he woke up and decided to be mean, just because he could! He reminded you of Oskar, and you had never really liked Oskar.

“You didn’t say you weren’t my girlfriend earlier,” Eren pointed out. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I wasn’t about to embarrass you further in front of everyone. I’m not cruel like that. We both know we aren’t dating and will never date. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Now, you should be focusing more on your ODM issues than the state of our relationship. One of those is far more important than the other,” you said.

“Our relationship is important,” he muttered. You softened slightly. You had only just gotten each other back, and you were already acting like some sort of harsh taskmaster or something. True, it was for his own good, but it was also true that he probably didn’t need to be yelled at anymore than he already had been, both by you and everyone else.

“I know it is. But we can worry about all of that later, right? Let’s just make sure you don’t get kicked out of the military first, and then we’ll have enough time to properly catch up with each other,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“True. I really really do not want to get kicked out of the military,” he said with a small frown.

“Wait out here. Boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms, so I’ll bring the letters out here and we can go through all of them together. There’s only one that was specifically about using the ODM gear, but there might be bits and pieces throughout the others, too,” you said. Eren sat obediently on the porch of the barracks, and you ran inside to grab the mahogany box.

“That’s a lot of letters,” Eren said in awe as he stared at the stack of papers.

“We were pen pals for a year,” you said, “This is the one about the ODM. I’ll start looking through the others.”

You and Eren sat in comfortable silence for a little, rummaging through the different letters, looking for something that might help him out. For you, it was also a trip down memory lane, reminiscing over the different things you and Levi had talked about.

“This is really cool. It’s like an inside look at all of the things the Scouts do. You’re really lucky to have these,” he said. You peered over his shoulder to see which letter in particular he was referring to. It was one about Hange’s experiments. The eccentric scientist was somebody Levi had an interesting relationship with. It was always humorous to read about, at least.

To be honest, you found Hange’s work fascinating. You had been interested in human anatomy when you were younger, and you were eager to learn about whether it applied to titans, as well. You had expressed this interest to Levi in one of your letters, and in the next one, there was a messily scrawled footnote from the scientist herself, along with several of her journals. Though you could not understand most of it, it was still interesting, and you often pored over her research when you were bored.

“Levi really helped me through a lot,” you agreed, “I was...kind of a mess at first. After the fall, you know. Petra and Tullia were there for the worst of it, and then Levi gave me some tough love, and eventually, I realized I would be okay. You were gone, but I would be okay. Yet here you are.”

“I never thought about that. I at least had Armin and Mikasa, but you had no one,” he said. You let out a soft sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder, making yourself comfortable against him and continuing to read.

“Not no one. The Rals and Levi are like family now, and besides, you’re back, so it’s a moot point. And you don’t get to leave me again, you hear? Never again. Even if I came to terms with it, the years I spent thinking you were dead were the worst in my life. I can’t go through that again,” you said, putting the letter in your hands down and picking up a new one.

“I won’t, but you can’t leave me either. Don’t forget, we thought you were dead, too. We’ve been together since we were two. Losing you was like losing a part of myself, the best part,” he said, resting his cheek against your hair.

“Sounds like we’re stuck together, Jaeger,” you said.

“Sounds like it,” he agreed, sounding pleased at the prospect.

“Well, have you found anything in these letters that might help? I’d really rather not leave the military, but if you get kicked out, then that’s what I might have to do. I doubt I’m cut out for working in the fields, but I’m sure there’s always brothels hiring,” you said, considering this. Life as a prostitute would be cruel and unyielding, and it was not something you ever wanted to do, but you did not have the strength to work in the fields for days.

“No way in hell are you working in a brothel!” Eren said, horrified, “You stay in the military, understand? Don’t follow me if that’s your next option.”

“Or maybe you could just not get kicked out,” you offered.

“That’s the plan, but so far, all I’ve learned is that Levi thinks that Hange is a barbarian for putting three sugar cubes in her tea instead of the standard two, and he believes that Petra makes the best tea in his squad,” he said.

“Oh, did he really say that? I must’ve missed it when I read that letter! I’ve gotta tell Tullia! Uh, after we figure out this ODM situation. The truth is, I doubt we’re going to find much more in these letters, though. Most of them are along the lines of that one in the sense that they’re personal things, not military guidebooks. I’m really sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” you said.

“That’s okay. Don’t blame yourself,” he said, letting out a defeated sigh and putting the letters back in their box before neatly closing the lid and giving you a sad smile.

“Come on,” you said, tucking the box under your arm and standing abruptly, pulling him to his feet.

“Where?” he said as you dragged him after you.

“Reiner! Reiner’s strong and talented and good at everything. I’m sure he can help you!” you said in excitement.

“You sure do have a high opinion of Reiner,” Eren commented.

“Duh, of course I do! Have you seen him? He’s amazing! Only Mikasa’s better than him overall, and obviously she is, because she’s Mikasa. If anyone can help you, it’s him!” you gushed as you ran across the courtyard to the boys’ barracks where Reiner and Betholdt probably were staying.

“I guess so,” he said.

“I know so! Now, I’m not allowed in there, so you’ll have to ask him for his help by yourself. You can do that, right?” you said, looking up at him. He scoffed.

“’Course I can, I’m not a chicken. You should probably get to bed now, it’s getting late,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, you’re right. Okay, goodnight Eren! Good luck! I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you tomorrow,” you said, hugging him tightly before dashing off to the room you shared with Tullia.

The blonde girl was in there, punching a pillow, though why she was doing such a thing, you had no clue.

“What did that poor pillow ever do to you?” you said.

“It bears an unfortunate resemblance to Jean Kirstein’s face,” she responded, still busily punching the pillow.

“I’m sorry, I can’t really see it,” you admitted.

“Use your imagination,” she said, waving you off dismissively before sighing and tossing the pillow aside, collapsing on her bed. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Done?”

“For the moment,” she said, laying down and resting her head on the very pillow she had just been brutally beating.

“What did Jean do?” you said, changing into your nightclothes and giving her an expectant look.

“It would be better to ask what he didn’t do, but since you asked what he did do, I’ll give you the full story. Basically, he’s a stupid jackass that thinks he’s so cool and amazing just because he’s attractive! Guess what? HE’S UGLY!” she screamed.

“Very ugly,” you agreed.

“SUPER UGLY! He is not pretty enough to be getting away with the shenanigans he tries to get away with!” she raved.

“No pretty privilege for Jean.”

“None! He thinks he can just ignore me? I was trying to be nice so I sat with him, this has nothing to do with my crush by the way, I sat next to him at dinner and I was like ‘hey Jean, how have you been?’ AND GUESS WHAT THE ASSHOLE DID?”

“He didn’t talk to you.”

“HE DIDN’T TALK TO ME! He just looked at me like a stupid fish or something, all open mouthed,” Tullia took a breath to demonstrate the exact facial expression she was referring to, “Then he like squeaked and left? Ugh!”

“Maybe he likes you and got shy. I mean, most people don’t really squeak,” you suggested. Tullia threw the pillow at you, and it hit you square in the face as she blushed but scowled.

“Impossible! Right? Wait, what if you’re right? This is all so complicated!” she said.

“Oh, I have an idea! We can write Levi! He’s a guy, I’m sure he knows all about this sort of thing,” you said, snapping your fingers together in pride at this brilliant idea before reaching under your bed to pull out the stationery you had brought with you for this exact purpose.

“Y/N, you’re literally a genius. By the walls, this is perfect! Levi is going to come through, I just know it. This is why Petra likes him,” Tullia said, shaking her head and watching you as you began to write.

“Okay, I’ll put it in the mailbox tomorrow. We should get the response in a couple of days. Just play it cool with Jean until then, you know? Keep it relaxed, don’t avoid him but don’t seek him out either. Let him decide what he wants to do,” you said.

“I’m so glad I talked to you about this. I’m tired now, though, mind blowing out the candle? Punching that pillow took a lot out of me,” she said, yawning and pulling her blanket up around her shoulders.

“I can only imagine. Yeah, I’m tired too. I had to spend the entire day watching Eren fail miserably with the ODM gear,” you said, blowing out the candle and crawling into your own bed.

“Ouch. You think he’ll be able to pass tomorrow?”

“I hope so. I only just got him back. How cruel would it be for the universe to take him again? Besides, being a Scout is his dream. Armin, Mikasa, and I are only along for the ride. Well, Min-Min wants to see the sea. I guess that’s his dream. Mikasa wants us all to be happy and safe, that’s all she cares about. As for me? I guess my biggest goal is to be worth something. I want to be remembered, Tullia,” you said.

“Remembered?” she said, half-asleep.

“Remembered,” you affirmed, “I want to do something important. I want to change the world, you know?”

“Go to bed. You’re way too fucking philosophical when you don’t get your eight hours,” Tullia groaned, her bed creaking as she rolled over. You let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Tullia.”

“Good-fucking-night.”

The next day, you downed your breakfast in a few gulps before heading to Commandant Shadis’s office to send your letter to Levi. Once that was done, you joined everyone outside to watch Eren get raised for his final try.

“Did he ever end up asking you for help?” you said, standing next to Reiner, who smiled and nodded at you in greeting.

“Yeah, he did. Him, Bertholdt, Armin, and I went out and had a good long talk last night. I don’t know if it did anything, but it seemed to light a fire in him, at least. Man, that kid’s got more determination in his pinky finger than most people have in their entire bodies. It’s admirable,” he said as the examiners lifted Eren up.

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” you said, watching as the boy managed to balance. He was doing it! He was doing it. All of your worries had been for nothing. You let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to be kicked out of the military.

You spoke far too soon, as Eren once again fell, his face slamming into the dust. Sympathetic murmurs broke out, and from beside you, Reiner shifted slightly.

“That was weird. It looked like he was doing everything right,” he muttered. You gave Reiner a wide-eyed look.

“You think somebody sabotaged him?” you said.

“Nah, but maybe a malfunction. Look, the Commandant agrees, it’s why he’s getting him to switch belts with Thomas,” Reiner said, motioning towards where Eren was putting on Thomas Wagner’s belt, a bewildered look on both boys’ faces.

“Woah,” you said as Eren hung proudly in the air, not even wobbling once, “So he managed to balance for a few seconds without proper gear? He’s even more amazing than I thought!”

Too amazing. He was better than you, yet again. You were nothing and nobody more than an afterthought. For once, you were almost jealous of how bright he was. He was a roaring inferno, and you were just a campfire, flickering feebly next to his brilliance.

Still, when he smiled at you in pride, as if he were showing you that yes, he had done it, as if he were begging you to be proud of him, too, you found it all too easy to smile back. If it was your fate to always be second to him, then you would be the best second there had ever been, and if you were cursed to be a pawn to his king, then you would let him manipulate you as he pleased.

Levi’s response to your letter came earlier than you had expected. You and Tullia ripped it open eagerly, waiting to see what words of wisdom the legendary Captain had sent you. For some reason, the paper was littered with spots where it looked like tears had fallen and dried, as if he had had some sort of a mental breakdown while writing.

Dear Brat,

I’m a thirty two year old virgin. Don’t fucking ask me about boys ever again.

Sincerely, Captain Levi Survey Corps, Special Operations Squad

“Well, there goes that idea. Looks like we’ll have to figure out this Jean mystery the old-fashioned way: by talking to him,” you sighed.

“Oh, call me a lunchbox and fuck me! This is awful!” Tullia said, throwing her hands up in the air in despair. You gave her a startled look.

“What? Actually, no. Do not elaborate on that.”

taglist (send an ask or dm to be added): @futuristicxie

[teaaleefs]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 - 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷/?

Pairing: prince!KaeyaAlberich x fem!reader

Cw: mentioned violence/threats, I’ve never written Kaeya before so bare with me, fluff, pre-established couple, secretly dating, short as hell, will have more parts (eventually I’m just slow) | Wc: 1216

Synopsis: you’re his secret lover and the prince wants to take you out.

Kaeya walked down the hallway of the palace, each step making a resounding clack. The halls were mostly empty, the servants having already cleaned the floors, opened the curtains, finished what they needed to.

The hallway bustled, but one servant was slowing down.

(Name) walked down the hallway, walking towards Kaeya’s direction. A basket of laundry laid in her hands, the clothing obscuring her view of what laid ahead ever so slightly. Her movements slowed by the heavy object, but still attempting to make haste. She was behind on her chores and didn’t need yet another scolding from the housekeeper.

Kaeya would slow his own walking pace, his eyes following after (Name) before he decided to clear his throat; an attempt at catching her attention.

(Name) stopped once she heard the sound, looking over the laundry basket and letting her eyes land on the prince. “Good morning, your highness. How are you this morning?” She asked politely, a kind yet formal air about her.

Kaeya gave a once over before stepping towards her, a sigh escaping him as he spoke, “There’s no need to be so formal when we’re talking amongst ourselves, (Name).” He replied with a chuckle, his hands holding onto the other side of her laundry basket. “With that being said, I’ve been doing well, my dear. So, what about you?”

A small silence passed between the two before (Name) sighed, a tension releasing from her posture and expression. Instead, it was replaced by a familiar casualness; affection even. “Fine, fine.” She huffed in defeat, adjusting her hold on the laundry basket. “I’ve been fine. Same as always— just work, you know?”

“Then how about we do something new?” He asked, a new light beginning to dance in his eyes. An idea brewing up in his mind, perhaps something fun. Maybe something dangerous, it was never clear with this prince.

(Name) only raised a brow in response, curiosity getting the better of her. “And what do you mean by that, Kaeya?” She asked, voice full of intrigue.

“Let’s visit town—“

“No.” (Name) immediately cut him off, concern radiating off of her stern tone. “You need a guard with you, not a servant. I will not allow you to risk your life simply because you want to spend time with me—“

Now it was her turn to be cut off. Kaeya had stepped closer, his face mere inches from hers. The only thing between them was the laundry basket and Kaeya was keen on moving it away.

“Do not worry about that, my dear. We’ll be careful.” He reassured, his eyes scanning his lover's face.

Still, instead of acceptance (Name)’s gaze held apprehension; caution. “But what about last time? Those assassins nearly recognized you.” She muttered, voice dropping just in case someone ends up passing by.

Now that got Kaeya to take a sigh and lift his head up to glance around briefly. After a short silence his gaze went back to (Name). “It won’t happen again.” He promised quietly, his words and gaze sincere. Even if he was promising something that was out of his control.

“I’ll wear a better disguise than a cloak and a change of clothes. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” He tried to reassure once more, one of his hands moving to rest on his lover’s shoulder. Even a small smile settled on his lips.

So with pursed lips and brief look around, very reluctantly, (Name) agreed. “This couldn’t be a dumber idea.” She mumbled. Even so, it’d been clear that Kaeya had won her over.

In celebration of his victory, the prince took the laundry basket out of (Name)‘s hands and set it on the floor. With it out of the way, he was free to pull her into a dimmer corner of the hallway, his hands holding her securely by the waist.

His eyes settled on her once more, finally taking in the features of his (Name). The features he could only caress in the dark of the shadows or silence of the night. His hands soon rose to (Name)’s face, fingertips lightly running along her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me.” He whispered softly.

In response to his touch, (Name) leaned her cheek into his hand. “Yes, yes… you’re welcome.” She sighed, still not completely on board. But the triumph on the prince’s face made it worth it.

“When will we go?” She asked with a new found interest, growing increasingly comfortable with the idea - albeit slowly.

Kaeya thought for a moment, his eyes flicking around as he thought. “Let’s go this evening. When you’re done with your duties and I am free from my father’s speeches. Then we can enjoy ourselves.” He said, his eyes settling back onto (Name) once more. He then leaned forward, his forehead resting against (Name)‘s.

“We will have fun. And more importantly I’ll be safe.” He soothed once more, a light smile gracing his lips which soon pecked (Name)’s forehead.

(Name) looked up at him, a look of resignation on her face. He had won her over completely now. “Fine.” She replied, her voice just as hushed as his.

With a small sigh, (Name) forced herself away from the prince, taking a few steps away from him and the corner. “I need to get back to work. I don’t need to be scolded by the housekeeper, you know?” She said in explanation. Although her reluctance to leave his embrace was more than obvious.

Kaeya nodded slowly at her words, “I understand. Don’t work too hard now, alright?” He asked sincerely, although his tone showed a light tease. It only eliciting a small chuckle from (Name), his lover appreciating his light hearted tone.

“I’ll try. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

~~~

When the evening arrived, (Name) was waiting just outside the palace. Hidden behind a stonewall from preying and nosy eyes, she waited for Kaeya to arrive.

After a good fifteen minutes though, she sighed to herself. “Is he still busy with his duties?” She couldn’t help but wonder to herself.

“I’m not.” A voice chuckled in response.

(Name) turned her head to the side, a hooded figure in view. She already recognized him. But she was thankful he had put more care into disguise, “Finally! You were taking forever.” She scolded first, although when she approach him, she was already grabbing his hand and leading him towards the market.

Kaeya shook his head, an amused smile gracing his lips. “Alright, alright.” He said he was dragged along. “I apologize, truly. I was just held up a bit.”

“You mean by your father?”

“Yeah. He’s been passing on more duties to me lately.”

(Name) nodded slowly, “I see… does that mean he plans on handing the throne to you soon?” She asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” Kaeya shrugged, interlacing his fingers with (Name)’s. “But it’s better if he delays doing that.” He said more resolutely.

The servant turned to look at the prince, eyes still holding curiosity. “Why’s that?”

Kaeya stayed silent for a moment before shaking his head a bit. He then brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing (Name)’s hand. “We can stay together for longer, that’s why, my dear.”

(Name) smiled softly. Yes, that was a good enough reason. Definitely.

[yingren]

It's small, inconsequential. A bird sculpture, created by wire, sitting quietly in a place Ren is sure to see it. There's no note, though; almost as if whoever left it had almost decided to not send it at all. Still, the bird is recognizable as a finch, and perhaps — just perhaps — the handiwork is recognizable as well, wires carefully and painstakingly twisted together like the flower crowns the creator used to love to weave, if a little clumsy with hands weathered and roughened by war. Regardless, it is almost the spitting image of the finch once perched upon a certain Devastator Glaive. A small and inconsequential gift.

ren is convinced that jing yuan needs to get rid of some of his fucking birds. they chirp incessantly, sing at dawn, and shit wherever they please. well, maybe not the jing yuan's birds specifically, but birds in general. he brings it up whenever he can, such a petty complaint, really. aren’t the lions enough? does jing yuan have to flaunt his gentle side in such a graceful and insufferable way? ren would argue that birds shouldn’t even want to be around him. jing yuan, with that annoyingly warm cadence to his words. too kind, too friendly, too familiar. fuck if ren knows how his old friend came to sound just the way sweet syrup tastes. awfully sweet.

ren glares at the little bird sculpture as if it’s somehow sentient and understands his disdain. of course, it stays put until he finally picks it up and holds it in his palm. “ you look stupid, ” he mutters, though he probably looks even dumber talking to a tiny bird statue. his lips twitch into a reluctant smile, and he holds the bird a little tighter, deciding it’ll look fine on his bedside table. ignoring at least twenty unread notifications, he picks up his phone, scrolling to the general’s contact. hesitation, a rare feeling, grips him for a moment before he types out a brief message.

[ 📱 15 : 02 ] you've picked up an old hobby. [ 📱 15 : 09 ] i think i've already found a good home for him.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fic Titles Based on Lyrics (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

a wand and a rabbit (ao3) - CloudyPhan

Summary: just a silly little one part about a cute morning in the phouse.

all the stars are closer (ao3) - kay_okay

Summary: Eventually, he’ll grow to love this holiday as much as he loves the others -- Christmas with his family, and New Year’s with his best friends. His birthday elaborately planned down the hour to maximize time for celebration, and even pre-Valentine’s Pancake Days that will be spent laughing in the kitchen with the one he loves the most in the world.

But when we meet Phil he won’t know any of this. And it’ll take meeting Dan exactly three times before it’s even remotely clear that when the stars align as precisely as they did for him, you really should listen.

All You Did Will Be Undone (ao3) - INeverHadMyInternetPhase (BirbWatcher)

Summary: What 2009 phan would have looked like if they were ace and wanted to be in a QPR

be still my foolish heart (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: Phil is a bartender in a jazz club during the Prohibition and he's doing his best to live a plain, but safe life.

- that all goes out the window when a new jazz band is hired and the drummer, Dan, starts to capture Phil's heart.

bruises, on both my knees for you (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: this wasn’t how Dan had planned for the night to go.

But It Takes Someone To Come Around To Show You How (ao3) - Cutaehyung

Summary: Dan is born mute into a world where once in everyone's life your soulmate will say the specific words that are tattooed onto your body, and bring you together. These words will save your life in more ways than imaginable. Whilst Dan resigns himself to the fact he will never have a soulmate, fate has different ideas...

don't trust a song that's flawless (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: "Dan surveys their menu. It’s in Comic Sans and all lower case. Only one drink has a description because (1) he got bored halfway through and (2) left the menus until last so they got rushed out opening day. The description is “coffee and foam?” with a question mark that he forgot to take out but now maybe creates some mystery. Add “update menus” to the to-do list. Phil’s drinks all have descriptions, detailed ones. The descriptions also have cat puns."

Or: Awkwardness Squared - A Love Story.

give me all your hopeless hearts (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: Dan is a university student who doesn't believe in love, but when Valentine's Day rolls around, he feels himself suddenly falling for the boy who sits next to him in his writing 101 class. When they're assigned a project together, Dan has the brilliant idea to ask Phil out - for research!

give me toothaches just from kissin' me (ao3) - whiskers (robertmontauk)

Summary: “Hey- sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I sit here?”

Dan didn’t bother looking up from the chemistry textbook splayed in front of them, choosing instead to grab a piece of paper on the table and study it intensely. “Not interested,” they muttered with a quirk of their lips and a short head shake.

A pause, and then - “Oh. I mean? I-I didn’t think you were? But, uh, I’ll just. Find another place to sit, I guess. That’s-that’s fine.”

(alternatively: assumptions are dumb and love is dumber)

Hanging Out With Corpses (ao3) - parentaladvisorybullshitcontent

Summary: In which Phil is a lonely ex-vampire hunter living in the city and Dan's just a pretty guy who doesn't sleep and wears a lot of black...right?

HOT TO GO! (ao3) - ae121

Summary: Dan loves his roller skating job where he gets to sing and be silly.

He loves his boyfriend Phil, even more.

i thought of angels (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: I can’t believe I’m actually writing this. I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea, but here I am.

i’m electric, a romantic cliché (me and you were meant to be in love) (ao3) -nardfx

Summary: “i really don’t know if i can do this.”

“you can do this.”

“okay, but what happens when everyone’s eyes are on me and they all know all of my secrets?”

or

dan and phil go to prom

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her) (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Dani is missing. She comes back, but something is different.

AKA lesbian vampire hozier songfic

run away together, spend some time forever (ao3) - manchestereye (orphan_account)

Summary: dan howell, and his unexpected whirlwind romance with an angel of a human being. the only catch is that he's about to get deported...

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty (ao3) - analester

Summary: a high school au in which dan and phil used to be best friends and are now enemies that hate each other's guts until it becomes something a little more complicated than they thought.

to intervene between me and this monster (ao3) - PoisonedMind

Summary: Phil gets assigned to Dan, a lonely human child. In theory, Phil has no reason not to fulfill his duty of being the scary monster under the bed. In practice, however, Phil has always been a little special and as it turns out, there might just be something about Dan that makes Phil not feel so alone himself.

And Dan? Dan just knows there’s something under his bed.

Too High, Can't Come Down (ao3) - calumthomases (orphan_account)

Summary: Phil never expected to be sticking his dick through a hole in the wall for some stranger to suck, and yet, here he is.

He isn't even that down for this. Personally, he's not really a glory hole person. Well, he's a glory hole porn person, but that's completely different.

who you are and who you've been (ao3) - kay_okay

Summary: The last day of summer seems like the perfect time to break into a public pool and make life-altering decisions in the middle of the night.

would it be a sin if I can't help falling in love with you? (ao3) - resurrectdead

Summary: “Hey.”

Phil reaches over the counter. Leaning one elbow on it, he puts a finger underneath Dan’s chin, gently tilts his head back up. Dan tries not to tremble. He darts his eyes up and they catch at his lips, stay there as he speaks. (He wants to taste them so bad.)

“I don’t know what kind of people you’re friends with,” he starts, “but if they aren’t nice to you, maybe you should consider switching them out for some that are.”

or: it's 1978, everything is a bad influence, catholicism makes you a bit sad sometimes and dan finds the answer to all his questions

you are the sun and i am just the planets (ao3) - fairytalelights

Summary: “I think this is really gonna be the year I find my soulmate, guys. I'm just gonna go around and touch as many soulmarks as I can until midnight. And no, Dan,” Phil holds up a finger as if he knows Dan is gonna say something, “I don't care about your stupid statistics monologue and that my soulmate might be on the other side of the world right now.”

Dan just glowers at him, suddenly for some reason in a much worse mood than he was a few seconds ago.

or, the one where soulmates meet on Valentine's Day, Dan and Phil just have a little trouble catching up.

[pennypenpen]

Day 2: Signed yours truly, The Whale~

The ocean waves moved rhythmically as the moon shined upon the island. It was quiet, it was the dead of night; and just about everyone still alive from this trip taking a weird turn for the worst was fast asleep in their cottage, and if they weren’t, they opted in staying inside, just in case Monokuma decided to be heavy-handed with the “no sleeping anyways except the cottages during nighttime” rule.

There were two residents of the blood-filled island, hiding in the bushes checking to see if the monitors were up and running—which they were—until a few coconuts were smashed into them without fail.

“Nice going!” A voice mustered up from the bushes as a chuckle from another could be heard from there. The two pop their heads up to reveal that it was the two pervs of Hope’s Peak Academy; Teruteru Hanamura, The Ultimate Chef from Class 77-B and Hifumi Yamada, The Ultimate Fanfic Creator from Class 78.

The two hopped out of the bushes and found the homemade boat that the both of them made while they were stuck here, considering it a small little project with big plans of some sort.

Yamada ran, while Hanamura just strolled to the boat.

“P-Pick up the pace! W-We don’t know how much time we got!” The big guy said as the chef scoffed.

“Monsieur, you have to remember that no one knows where we are… We’re fine…”

Yamada kept running since his body was already on that setting but he did understand what the tiny guy was saying. Only a mere moments soon after their little side-chat and the fanfic creator found the wooden boat they two crafted and smiled.

“I-I can’t believe it…. A-Are we seriously going to escape together?...” He was in complete disbelief, meanwhile, Hanamura couldn't help but laugh.

“We have been planning this since the killing game started… Luckily, neither of us got hurt beforehand.”

“Y-Yeah…” Yamada reminisced about the friends he lost to the game before he shook his head. “C-C’mon, before the sun rises!”

The chef nods before the two of them start to push the boat…or well, try to… It was a lot heavier than it originally was, oddly enough, despite the two of them never even putting anything inside it.

“W-What the!?” The fanfic creator gasped as the chef plops on the sand and huffed.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this…” The chef chimed in before—

“Puhuhuuuuuuuu~!”

Oh..

No….

Suddenly, the black-and-white teddy bear jumps up from one of the trees and spins in the air before landing on the boat without even a scratch on himself nor the boat.

“You two really are a couple of honey-filled saplings, are ya?” He said as Yamada looked horrified seeing him here, and the chef looked at him with disdain.

“How are you even here!?” The chef yelled. “I took down ev’ry moni—” They then remembered where Monokuma was. “S-Son of a bitch…” They mumbled under their breath as the bear couldn’t help but let out a small little laugh.

“Oh c’mon now! Did ya really think ya two could bear-ly get off scot-free? How em-bear-assing” The stuffed animal said before he sat on the ledge of the boat with his right leg over the other, staring at the two.

“Although, I should give ya two some credit. After all, you did make this and didn’t break a rule while making this pathetic little contraption. I’m impressed.” 

“M-Monokuma-sama” Yamada chimed in. “A-Are we going to get punished for this?”

Hanamura breaks a sweat as they look at their partner-in-crime, yelling at them that what they just asked was a guaranteed death sentence; meanwhile, if Monokuma could express the emotion he was feeling at this moment, he’d be frowning, daggering eyes with the hamster-looking man.

A sigh escapes the bear. “Yamada, Yamada, Yamada… You always were one of the dumber ones. I’m ain’t gonna punish ya, unless y’all decided to have a late-night rendezvous and sleep here, in which case, it’ll be the last date y’all’ll ever have.”

Yamada sighed before seeing Hanamura trembling with anger. He gulps and gives them a hug to calm him down; this was exactly what Monokuma wanted to do and despite lacking any smarts whatsoever, he knew what made his partner tick and he wanted him to calm down before things got worse.

“Hmm? Smallfry’s quivering? What? Does he want his mommy? His sick and unwell mommy has to work all by herself while his siblings do nothing.”

“S-Shaddup….I-I swear to god…”

The fanfic creator’s eyes widened as it was desperately blatant that he was upset about something the two did, he didn’t know what it was, but his guest was the boat.

“Oh-ho? Retaliation I hear? That’s kinda rich from someone who almost let their boyfriend die by the hands of—”

“S-SHADDUP! Be-Before I—I…” The chef was playing into his trap almost too well…

“H-Hanamura-chan, c-calm down…p-please” Yamada was quiet during the whole ordeal, mostly just trying to keep things under wraps.

“Puhuhuhu… How charming~! The hamster has to take care of the mutt. Now dat’s something I haven’t seen yet!” His bullying gets worse before it finally mustered over with Hanaumra grabbing Yamada’s backpack and—

“I SAID, SHAT DA FUCK UP!!!” They yelled at the top of their lungs losing their composure and throwing the backpack at the bear, causing the small plushie to fall into the ocean!

Afterwards, the chef could be seen panting heavily with the fanfic creator trembling in fear as they looked down to see their angered love.

“H-Hana-chan! Hana-chan! P-Please!” At this point, he was getting desperate, so he lifted up the tiny chef into a bear hug as he was panicking to bring them back to their senses.

Of course, they were upset still, but the overwhelming anger they felt was starting to leave their system, and they confirmed it as they looked at Yamada and huffed.

“Uhm… Mon chéri?... Can you let go of me?....” They asked in a quasi-deadpan tone before the big guy plops them to the ground. They brush off their attire and grunts.

“D-Do-do you think he’s gonna come back up?...” Yamada spoke up as the tiny chef looked at the ocean with Monokuma nowhere in sight; leaving them a little uneasy.

“I mean…” Hanamura is trying to keep their cool, mostly for Yamada’s sake, somewhat forgetting about the violent outburst that happened not even a couple of minutes ago.

“Seeing it’s been a few minutes, I-uh… I think we’re fine.” 

Yamada sighs as they look over at the boat and walk over to it. Now that the bear was done with, they could continue their departure away from the island.

While those two were working on figuring out the problem, a few bubbles could be seen coming from the ocean, with black-and-white ears appearing above the water as it moved closer to shore.

While that was happening, Yamada figured out that the boat was filled with rocks.

“So that was the problem…” The chef thought out loud.

“M-Must’ve been Monokuma-sama’s doing” The other said before he started to take out the rocks one by one.

Until… they both hear an unfamiliar sound coming from the water, the two look over and squinted their eyes in unison before—

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”

Monokuma jumped out, claws ablazing, attempting to stab Hanamura from breaking a rule before…

He was grabbed….

The chef blocked his face with their arms before they slowly moved them down to see that Yamada was holding the monochrome bear by the belly.

“U-UNHAND ME, YA GOOD-FOR-NOTHING PERVERT!!” The bear yelled as Yamada gulped and basically tackled Monokuma to the ground, leaving him under the fanfic creator’s body, flailing his arms about as if he was gonna die from asphyxiation. 

“M-Monsieur…” Teruteru looked at their boyfriend saving his butt with one mere thought going into his mind… “God, I wish I was Monokuma right now…” They shook their heads before Yamada yelled.

“QUICK! Get the rocks out while I have him here!” 

Hanamura nods and using all the strength they had, they start throwing one rock after another out of the shore. 

“Y-Y’know! By the time I'm done with this, we’ll be sailing home to Mama and Fujiko!”

The fanfic creator chuckled.

“Yeah! Imagine what Fujiko thinks once I—”

Suddenly…

*SHANK!!!*

Hanamura would look up to see not one put two pairs of razor sharp claws pierced through Yamada’s body. 

The chef froze before the black-and-whtie bear successfully got off the big guy.

“Y…Ya…..YAMADA!!!”

Their guttural screech of terror could be heard from all over as the chef runs up to the bleeding fanfic creator. 

They didn’t mean for this to happen, Yamada was basically the bystander in their confrontation and seeing him basically gone from this world due to their action, it made them sick.  They can’t even register that the bear wasn’t done with his onslaught on punishment before the chef hugs the corpse of his long-dead love.

“I-I-I’m….OH YAMADA!!!”

Overstruck with grief, they sobbed loudly before it was cut short but the razor sharp claws pierced their next victim… Hanamura’s torso.

Hanamura basically collapsed on top of Yamada as the bear would stare at their crimson-red claws, huffing as he started at the two angrily.

“No attacking the headmaster….” He said as he looked at the entrance to the location. “I’ll let the rest of them know about this rule too…” He said before he disappeared into thin air.

The duo was still laying on top of one another. Hanamura struggled to even move as every inch hurt like all hell, but endured it, just so they could be close to Yamada’s face.

“I-I…Y-Yamada…I-I’m sorry…” Blood leaked from their lips as they stared at Yamada’s eyes before.

*COUGH COUGH!*

Hanamura gasped weakly and grunted as they got a bit of blood on their face as they saw the smiling face of their love. 

“I-it’s alright…an-anything to p-protect you….”

The chef couldn’t help but tear up before they leaned in closer to Yamada’s lips.

“I-I love you….”

“I….love you too~....”

The two share one final kiss and their last breath together before they stop moving.

What was suppose to be an escape, ended in the death of Hifumi Yamada and Teruteru Hanamura…

[rosieshipper]

So I know this is a super old post but I got inspired and had to write for this

Trigger warning! ⚠️Child death⚠️ Do not read if this is upsetting to you!

The sound of pounding footsteps rumbled the ground as Bill had come crawling back to the main room where Stan and Ford were being held in their cage. Clutched tightly in one of his hands was Dipper and Mabel, the two kids squirming around desperately to try and get out of his grasp. “Alright Ford! Time's up! I got the kids!” He shouted as he stepped up to the cage, the older twins looking on in horror

“I think I’m gonna kill one of them now just for the heck of it!” Bill suddenly shouted as he shifted his one eyed gaze to the kids struggling in his grasp. His eye changed between the symbols of a pine tree and a shooting star as he decided who he wanted to kill. “Eenie Meenie Miney…” Just as his eye landed on the shooting star, he held his free hand up to snap his fingers. “YOU!” But just before Bill could snap his fingers, Ford suddenly spoke up

“WAIT! I surrender!” He shouted to Bill, staring up at him from his cage. Bill looked back towards Ford when he finally spoke but didn’t loosen his grip on Mabel and Dipper. “Good choice.” He said as he stepped closer to the cage. Suddenly Stan grabbed Ford by the jacket and began to shout at him. “Don’t do it Ford! It’ll destroy the universe!” He shouted at him and when “Stan” grabbed Ford by the jacket, Bill noticed a very important detail

Last time he checked, Ford’s dumber copy didn’t have six fingers. That’s when things finally clicked. Wow, Bill had to hand it Fordsy and his idiot brother. They very nearly got him. That would have been bad for Bill. Upon this realization, Bill began to laugh. A once quiet chuckle soon descending into pure mad hysterical cackling. Ford and Stan looked over at Bill, both wondering what exactly the triangle found so funny. But the next words to come from Bill made their blood run cold

“WHAT KIND OF A MORON DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!” Bill spat out through his hysterical laughter before suddenly his grip around Dipper and Mabel began to tighten. It got tighter and tighter to the point that the kids began to scream out in pain, their struggling getting more and more frantic. Ford and Stan began to panic now, the two of them pounding at their cage trying to break free and somehow save the kids from Bill, all the while screaming and begging for Bill to stop and let them go

But their efforts were for nothing when there was suddenly the sound of a loud snap and Dipper and Mabel’s cries and screams were suddenly cut short as they fell limp in Bill’s grasp. The older twins were at a complete loss for words, tears welling up in their eyes as they could do nothing but stare at their niece’s and nephew’s lifeless bodies. “Whoopsie! Welp guess you were too little too late Ford!” Bill roared with laughter as he dropped the kids’s bodies on the ground and simply walked past them

The blue cage that surrounded them suddenly dropped and Bill grabbed “Stan” using his powers to tie “Ford” to the ground. “You really almost had me there Sixer. Guess you forgot to hide that little deformity of yours huh?” He chuckled as he plucked the red fez from his head, revealing who he really was. “Last chance, Ford. You couldn’t save the kids but you can still save your brother!” Bill told him but Ford wasn’t even looking at him, all he could look at was Dipper and Mabel’s bodies. They were gone. They were gone and it was all his fault

“Don’t do it, Ford! Don’t fucking let him in!” Stan cried out, trying his best to keep it together but the pain of watching the kids die to Bill’s hand was too much for him to bear. “I’m sorry…” Ford whimpered out, not only up Stanley but to the kids as well. He let them down, he failed them. But he wouldn’t fail Stanley. Without hesitation, Ford held his hand out for Bill to take, letting him into his mind. “NO!” Stan cried out as Bill greedily shook his hand, their hands igniting into blue flames before Bill dove into Ford’s mind

Deception Revealed