#even if you don't feel like you're productive or that you're 'junk'

[radio-4-is-static]

RED OUT | Kenshi Yonezu

鮮血煌めいて跳ねるスタインウェイ & サンズ 頭の中鳴り止まない砕けたバックビート 零コンマーで褪せてしまう情景 どうした地獄じゃあるまいに そんな目で見んな

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Blood glistens, and the Steinway & Sons bounces A frenzied backbeat hammers in my head A sight that blackens in 0.1 seconds What’s with you? It’s not like this is hell Don’t give me that look

[nothingsure127]

🍃Unplanned Journey🍃

Pairing : Park Sunghoon as father, fluff🍬 _________________________________

-⚘

Chap. 6

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sunghoon was tidying up the front counter, wiping down the shelves and checking the expiration dates of the products.

As he worked, his thoughts kept drifting to his shift at the restaurant later in the evening.

He mentally ran through the specials, wondering if he had enough stock left to cover the orders. Suddenly, the jangling of the bell above the door interrupted his thoughts,

and he looked up to find an elderly woman hobbling into the store.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Sunghoon greeted her politely, putting on his best customer service smile.

"What can I help you with today?"

The elderly woman looked up at Sunghoon with a small smile.

"Good afternoon, young man," she said, her voice weathered with age. "I just need a few things, dear."

"Of course," Sunghoon replied, stepping out from behind the counter.

"What do you need, ma'am?"

"I need some snacks for my grandchildren," she said,

"They're coming over tomorrow and they love all this junk food, can you suggest me some?."

Her voice warm and she has smile on her face as she was talking to sunghoon.

"Sure thing." Sunghoon led the elderly woman over to the snack aisle.

"Do your grandchildren have any specific favorites? Chips, candies, cookies?"

The old lady thought for a moment,

The old woman's gaze swept across the shelves of colorful packages.

"My granddaughter's loves gummy bears," she said.

"But the sour ones and.. do you have mint choco flavour icecream and chewingum?" Her voice was tinged with affection.

"We do have all of those," Sunghoon confirmed, steering her towards the correct sections.

"Here are the sour gummy bears," he said, picking up the item and put it on cart,.

"And the mint choco ice cream is over there, and we've got several options for chewing gum."

The old woman nodded in approval as Sunghoon led her around the store, picking up the items she needed.

She watched him closely, taking note of his polite demeanor and friendly face.

"You're very patient, young man," she said, her tone warm.

"Most teenagers don't have your level of patience."

Sunghoon chuckled slightly, his cheeks coloring a bit at the unexpected compliment.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said. "But really, it's no trouble. Everyone deserves to be treated with kindness, regardless of age."

The old woman chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with warmth.

"You speak like someone much older than your age," she remarked. "It's refreshing to see such maturity in a young man."

Sung-hoon smiled at the comment, feeling a pang of pride at being recognized for his maturity.

"I guess I've always been a bit more mature for my age," he admitted. "I had to grow up pretty fast."

Time Skip-

-🌃

The night air was crisp, and the streets were beginning to empty as people headed home.

Sunghoon, tired from his long shifts as

He was walking along the dimly lit street, the only light coming from the street lamps and the occasional shop window. Siwoon clung to Sunghoon's hand, his other hand clutching his worn-out penguin plushie

The soft noises of the night, like distant conversations and cars passing by, filled the air, creating a comforting background hum as they walked together.

As The street was slowly winding down for the night, the sounds of music and laughter coming from the few bars that were still open.

Despite the late hour, there were still a few people about, either heading home from work or enjoying a late night out

Sunghoon glanced down at Si-woon, who was looking a bit sleepy, his small head starting to droop.

"Are you tired, buddy?" he asked softly, gently squeezing his hand.

Siwoon gave a tiny nod, blinking up at Sunghoon with heavy eyelids.

His grip on the penguin plushie didn't loosen, though. He held onto it like it was a lifeline.

Sunghoon smiled a bit, his heart swelling with affection.

"Just a bit longer, we're almost home," he reassured Siwoon, giving his hand another squeeze.

After a few more minutes, they finally reached their small apartment building. The front door gave a familiar creak as Sunghoon pushed it open,

the faint sound of the TV from their neighbors' apartment filtered through the thin walls

Inside, the cramped one-bedroom apartment was dimly lit by a small lamp. The living room was clean but sparse,

only a small couch, a coffee table, and a worn- out rug on the floor.

Siwoon's toys were neatly stacked in one corner, and the kitchen was visible through a small archway.

Sunghoon quietly closed the door behind him and turned to Siwoon, who had perked up a bit upon seeing the familiar surroundings.

"We're home, buddy," he said softly, gently coaxing him to let go of his penguin plushie so he could take off his small shoes.

Si-woon reluctantly released his penguin, his small hands coming up to rub at his eyes. He was clearly exhausted, his usual energetic demeanor all but gone

Sunghoon knelt down in front of his son, his heart aching at the sight of his tired child.

"You're exhausted, huh?" he asked softly, brushing a gentle hand through Si-woon's messy hair.

Siwoon nodded, his small body swaying with exhaustion.

He clumsily reached out to Sunghoon, his arms stretching out in a silent request to be picked up.

Sunghoon obliged, lifting Siwoon up into his arms with ease.

The boy's small body molded against him, his head falling against his shoulder as he snuggled in, his eyes half-closed.

Sunghoon held him close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"Let's get you to bed," he whispered, his voice soft and gentle. He carried Siwoon into the small bedroom, the room was lit up by a small night light in the corner.

He laid Siwoon down on the small twin-sized bed, pulling the covers up to his chest.

He then sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand continuing to brush gentle strokes across Siwoon's hair, his thumb gently rubbing his forehead.

his eyes already fluttering closed as he curled onto his side, clutching his penguin plushie close to his heart.

Siwoon's eyelids fluttered open fighting against the pull of sleep.

He looked up at his father, his small hand reaching out to grab the front of Sunghoon's shirt, clutching it tightly

Sunghoon smiled down at him, his tired eyes filled with love. "I'm here,"

he reassured him quietly. "You can go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

he whispered, continuing to soothe him. He gently pried Siwoon's fingers off his shirt, carefully folding his small hand back under the covers

Siwoon's eyes finally closed, his grip loosening as he gave in to the pull of sleep.

His small chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his mouth slightly open in a peaceful, exhausted sleep.

Sunghoon watched him for a few more moments, as watched his son asleep, his eyes tracing over the small boy's face, taking in his every feature.

Siwoon looked so tiny and vulnerable in his sleep, his breath coming out in soft little puffs

He stayed seated on the edge of the bed, his hand still brushing gently through Si-woon's hair, as he watched his son sleep.

his gaze soft and affectionate. He reached out to straighten the covers, then gently pressed a kiss to the top of Siwoon's head.

he stood up quietly, his movements slow and measured to not disturb the sleeping boy. Siwoon was still fast asleep, clutching his penguin plushie tightly.

He looked back to Siwoon one more time, his heart clenching in his chest.

The boy was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the weight the world sat on his father's shoulders.

He then carefully left the room, leaving the door open a crack so he could hear if Si-woon woke up.

He let out a weary sigh as he walked into the living room, the weight of the day finally catching up to him.

He plopped down onto the couch, the worn-out cushions sinking beneath his weight. He leaned back,

his head resting against the back of the couch, and closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the day starting to hit him.

He could feel his muscles aching under his clothes, a subtle reminder of the double-shifts he's been working lately.

He knew he should probably get some sleep, but his mind was still racing with thoughts of work, bills, and the never-ending challenges of being a single dad.

After a few moments of stillness, he opened his eyes and took out his wallet, fishing out the crumpled bills he had earned from his two shifts. He counted them, his eyes taking in the pitiful sum. Even putting in all those extra hours, he was still barely making ends meet.

He sighed again, the weight of his financial struggles pressing down on him like a heavy boulder.

He folded the money back up and tucked it back into his wallet, silently adding it to the growing list of worries.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second echoing in the quiet living room. Sunghoon sat there in silence for a long while, his mind swimming with thoughts and worries.

The sound of the clock was almost deafening in the quiet, the only other sound coming from the soft hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

He looked over at the small kitchen, the only real food currently in the fridge were a few apples and some leftover rice from the night before.

He knew he needed to get groceries soon, but he also knew it would be a struggle to make it to the end of the week with the budget he had.

He was about to get up and pour himself a glass of water when he heard a soft shuffling sound coming from the bedroom. He immediately paused,

-

As soon as Sunghoon walked into the room, he saw Siwoon tossing and turning in his bed,

small whimpers and unintelligible words falling from his lips. The boy was clearly having a nightmare.

Sunghoon quickly made his way over to the bed, his heart aching at the sight of his son distressed in his sleep.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, gently shaking Siwoon's shoulder. "Siwoon," he said quietly, his voice laced with concern.

"Wake up, buddy. You're dreaming."

Siwoon's small face contorted in distress, his eyes still firmly closed.

"Don't leave...Papa..." he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt his heart clench in his chest at the thought of his son dreaming about him leaving.

"I'm not going anywhere," he reassured him softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Siwoon's back.

"Papa's right here, it's just a bad dream."

But Siwoon didn't seem to hear him, his distress only increasing.

He tossed and turned in the bed, small whimpers and mumbled pleas falling from his lips.

"Don't leave... please... don't leave again..."

Sunghoon felt a stab of pain in his heart. Again. The word echoed in his head, fueling his guilt.

He gently shook Siwoon's shoulder again, his voice growing more urgent.

"Siwoon, wake up. You're dreaming, it's just a dream," he repeated, desperately trying to reach his son through his nightmare.

Siwoon's eyes suddenly snapped open, his small body jolting upright in the bed. He looked around frantically, his eyes wide and frightened.

When he finally spotted Sunghoon, sitting on the edge of the bed, a sob escaped his lips.

"Papa," he whimpered, his small hands reaching out towards him.

Sunghoon wasted no time in scooping him up into his arms, holding him close against his chest. Siwoon clung to him tightly, his small body trembling with the aftermath of the nightmare.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay," Sunghoon whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Siwoon's back.

He could feel the boy's heart racing against his own chest, the panicked heartbeat slowly calming down with each passing second.

He sat there, holding Siwoon against him, his own heart heavy with the weight of his guilt.

He knew what his son's nightmare was about, and the realization only amplified the guilt he carried with him every day.

"It was just a dream. Papa's here, I'm not leaving," he repeated in a soft, comforting whisper.

Siwoon's small hands gripped tightly at the front of Sunghoon's shirt, like a lifeline.

He buried his face against his father's chest, his tears dampening the fabric. Sunghoon held him close, his own eyes welling up at the sight of his son's distress.

He continued to rub soothing circles on his back, his hand gently stroking the boy's hair as he whispered reassurances.

"It's okay, buddy. Everything's okay. Papa's here, I promise."

They sat like that for a long moment, the silence only broken by the sound of Siwoon's small sobs.

Sunghoon held him close, murmuring comfort in his ear, his heart aching with each hitch in his son's breathing.

After a while, Siwoon's sobs subsided, his body growing heavy with exhaustion.

His small fists slowly let go of Sunghoon's shirt, his head resting limply against his father's chest.

Sung-hoon gently pulled back to look at his son.

Siwoon's face was tear-streaked, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He looked utterly exhausted, his body sagging against Sunghoon's chest.

"You're alright," Sunghoon whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Siwoon's head.

"It was just a dream. Papa's here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Siwoon mumbled something unintelligible against his chest, nuzzling his face further into his shirt.

His eyes were slowly drooping closed again, the exhaustion of the nightmare and the emotional release taking its toll

Sunghoon noticed the change in his son's breathing, the deep, even breaths signaling that he had finally fallen asleep again.

Carefully, he laid Siwoon back down on the bed, his hand gently stroking his hair

As Siwoon settled back into sleep, Sunghoon stayed there for a few moments, watching his son's face.

The fear and distress of the nightmare were replaced now with the peaceful, innocent look of a child in deep sleep.

He continued to stroke Siwoon's hair, his touch gentle and loving, .

trying not to wake the child. He tucked the covers around Siwoon's small frame, making sure he was properly tucked in and wouldn't get cold during the night

As Sunghoon sank back down on the edge of the bed, his hand resuming its gentle stroking motions through Siwoon's hair.

He watched as his son slept peacefully, his small chest rising and falling steadily with each breath.

He sat there quietly, his mind replaying the earlier scene of the look of fear on his son's face. His heart ached,

he don't know why siwoon always have the same nightmare of him leaving siwoon it squeeze his heart too much seeing his son's eye filled with tear & fear for him, the fear Of his father leaving him, how he plea in sleep how he tremble.

He continued stroking Siwoon's hair, his fingers tracing the soft strands, a soothing repetitive motion.

"Don't worry little men, no matter what is this nightmare about! I won't let that nightmare to be real in your life."

" no matter what happens.. and what comes next.. your papa is always with you I promise." he said,

-🌄

The first rays of sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, casting a soft, warm glow over the room.

Siwoon stirred in his bed, his small body shifting under the covers.

He slowly opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings.

Siwoon turned his head slightly, his eyes settling on the figure on the edge of his bed.

His father, Sunghoon, was slumped over, his upper body resting against the bed. He was fast asleep, one hand still on Siwoon's hair.

Siwoon silently shifted in bed, sliding his small body closer to his father. He looked at him for a moment, taking in his father's peaceful, albeit uncomfortable, sleeping position.

He knew from his own experience and from what his father had told him that sleeping in such positions could make the some body parts hurt.

With great effort, Siwoon managed to pull the blanket up to his father's shoulders, tucking it around him gently.

As he adjusted the blanket, he looked up at his father's sleeping face.

Sunghoon looked so worn-out, his face weary even in sleep. His heart ached at the sight of his father like this, knowing the constant struggles and pressures he's been under,

even tho siwoon is half 5 year old kid he is bit mature in his ownself than other kids, who just understand his father's struggle pains sometimes he can feel it his heart ache squeez,

maybe that is what called connection of blood ? Or maybe he just understand what the people around them says or talk to him, about his father? & him, he felt hurt and that where he earned that knowledge.?

Once done tucking his father in, Siwoon sat on the bed for a few more moments, just staring at his sleeping father He wanted so badly to take some of his struggle away, to ease his father's pain. But he was just a child, and there was only so much he could do.

After a few more minutes, he slowly edged off the bed, careful not to make any sudden movements that might disturb his father's sleep.

He padded silently towards the door, clutching his penguin plushy in ome arm, turning back to look at his father one last time before quietly closing the bedroom door behind him.

Once in the living room, he glanced around the small room, a little balcony over there and a small kitchen at the doorway side,

the room with an couch small coffee table, was quiet in the early morning light, the only sounds coming from the slight hustle of the city outside. He turned to the kitchen, his stomach grumbling a little.

He walked over to the kitchen, his small bare feet making no sound on the cold floor.

He opened the fridge, the light from inside casting a cold glow on his face.

There was a small tupperware of leftover rice, a couple of apples, and a nearly empty carton of eggs.

His stomach growled again., & he was too hungry to care.

He reached up to the top shelf of the fridge, stretching as far as his little arms would allow, and grabbed one of the apples.

He hopped down from the stool he was standing on and took a big bite out of the apple.

The cold crisp, sweet taste filled his mouth, instantly making his stomach feel a bit better.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, taking large bites of the apple as he looked around him.

The kitchen was small and modest, the countertops a bit worn with age.

But it was functional, and it was home. He looked over at the small dining table in the corner, the only other furniture in the kitchen aside from the fridge, stove, and sink.

He took another big bite of his apple, the crunch seeming oddly out of place in the quiet of the morning.

He looked around the kitchen again, his eyes falling on the stove.

He knew his father would need to start getting ready soon to go to work again.

-

The convenience store was warm and bright, the hum of the air conditioning blending with the soft music coming from the overhead speaker.

It was a slow afternoon, the stream of customers coming in and out of the store was sparse but steady

The small bell on the door of the convenience store chimed as it opened, letting in a gust of cool air.

A few customers milled around the narrow aisles, browsing the shelves and chatting with each other.

Siwoon sat in a corner, he was clinging tightly to his favorite plushy, a cute penguin with a blue-patterned scarf around its neck.

He had his back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, the tip of his feet not quite touching the floor, he watched as his father working he was superb busy today.

Today Sunghoon wasn't working behind the cash counter, but restocking shelves.,

taking the boxes, cartons inside from the truck outside he was too busy today barely even has the time to breath, today their boss is here working on cash counter,

Sunghoon was moving back and forth, carrying heavy boxes and restocking the shelves with drinks and instant ramen. His face was a sheen of sweat, his breathing was coming out in labored gasps.

The boss was keeping a close eye on the other 4 staffs & on him, barking orders to keep the store running smoothly

From time to time, Sunghoon would glance over at Siwoon, who was sitting quietly in the corner,

his attention on his penguin plush. The sight of his son brought a small, sad smile to Sunghoon's face, but it quickly vanished as he was shouted at by the boss to hurry up.

The afternoon rush was on, and the store was bustling with activity.

Customers came in and out, grabbing essentials before heading back to their offices.

Sunghoon continued to restock the shelves, his muscles aching from the constant lifting and bending.

"Hurry it up, everyone We have a lot to finish before closing," the boss barked from the cash register.

Sunghoon gritted his teeth, his hands grabbing another heavy box of instant ramen packs.

He forced himself to keep going, his body protesting with every move. He knew he had to keep up the pace,

Sunghoon huffed, stacking up more boxes of instant noodles on the shelf.

His body was screaming for a break, but he didn't dare to stop. Not with the boss around and watching his every move

He glanced over at Siwoon again, his heart clenching at the sight of his son's small form sitting in the corner.

He knew Siwoons is probably hungry and bored, by now its 01:19 pm at clock,

but he couldn't do anything about it right now. He had to finish the work first, and then if there was even time, he would take a small break to get him something to eat.

He knew he had to keep going, for Siwoon's sake.

As Sunghoon was restocking the shelves, he passed by the corner where Siwoon was sitting.

He quickly knelt down, pretending to arrange some bags of chips on the lower shelf.

"Hey Buddy," he said quietly, keeping his voice down so the boss wouldn't hear him.

"Why don't you eat some biscuits from bag hm?" He kept the best of his smiley face, & as much as cheerful cool expression in his voice he could infornt of his son,

He pointed subtly towards Siwoon's small backpack, beside siwoon the biscuit packet peaking out of the open zipper, Siwoon nodded silently, & also gave him the smile face as his father was giving.

Siwoon nodded silently, pretending he was okay. In reality, he was starting to feel a bit hungry.

As Siwoon silently sat there, waiting for his father to move away, cz the biscuits he is talking about, were already finished many days ago.

That He hadn't told his father about it yet, knowing that his father was already busy, tired with work and expenses. he didn't want to add to his worries more

Siwoon sat quietly, his small hands gripped tightly around his penguin plushy.

While his father continued to work, Siwoon remained silent and motionless in the corner, watching him go back and forth.

He knew he would soon be asked if he had eaten anything, and he had already decided to lie and say that he had. He didn't want to burden his father more,

Besides, he could deal with a little hunger. It was nothing compared to the exhaustion on his father's face.

As Sunghoon finished restocking the shelf and moved away, Siwoon pretended to rummage through his bag as if he was eating something, just in case his father looked back

All the while, he felt a pang of guilt for not being honest with his father even tho he promised him, but he pushed the feeling aside.

He knew his father had enough on his plate without worrying about snacks too. The soft growl of his stomach was a reminder of his own hunger, but he ignored

"Okay everyone great work! For today"

the boss said little clapping his hand "since its lunch time already.. lets take a break & today's lunch is from me guys"

The boss' voice echoed through the store, announcing the lunch break. Everyone in the store cheered a little, thankful for the break and the free lunch.

Sunghoon, too, felt his mood slightly lifted, the prospect of a lunch break was like a small relief after hours of relentless work.

"Just don't take too long," the boss added, a slight warning tone in his voice, "we have to finish the restocking by closing." With that,

he turned and walked towards the back office, probably to get the food he had ordered.

The other employees started chattering amongst themselves, some heading outside for a quick smoke,

others stretching their aching bodies. Sunghoon glanced over at Siwoon who was still sitting in the corner, playing quietly with his penguin plushy.

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that Si-woon hadn't eaten anything. He sighed and walked over to him, crouching down next to him. He reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately

"Buddy! Have you eaten the biscuits?" Sunghoon asked,

Siwoon swallowed, his small fingers fidgeting with the penguin plush’s soft fur. He could feel his father's expectant gaze on him, waiting for an answer.

The lie he had prepared earlier was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be uttered.

But as he looked up into his father's tired yet kind eyes, he found himself faltering. His heart ached with guilt.

He loved his father, and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to him.

However, the thought of worrying his father further, or worse, making him feel worse because Siwoon was hungry, made him hold his tongue.

He swallowed again, forcing a small nod of confirmation, "yes did appa.." he muttered softly, unable to meet his father's gaze.

He fidgeted some more with the penguin plush, the lie he just told making his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Sunghoon studied Siwoon's face for a moment, his eyes searching for any signs of untruthfulness.

But siwoon's gaze was averted, and aside from the slight hunch of his shoulders, he gave no indication that he was lying

noticing Siwoon's discomfort and the way he was avoiding eye contact.

Instinctively, he knew something was off. He gently placed his large hand on the boy's little shoulder.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his voice soft but probing.

He looked down at the half open backpack beside, the biscuit packet visible from where it was tucked away.

He hated pressing Siwoon like this, but he also knew when his son was lying.

Maybe it was a father's sixth sense, but he could tell that Siwoon hadn't eaten.

"Buddy, you can tell me," he encouraged, keeping his voice low and reassuring.

"Did you really eat the biscuits?" He gave the boy's shoulder a gentle squeeze, hoping to coax the truth out.

He waited, giving Si-woon time to respond.

He could see the conflict in the child's eyes, the internal struggle between telling the truth and continuing the lie.

"Hey park Sunghoon are you gonna come here and eat?!! Or not! The food is getting cold" his boss screamed.

Sunghoon looked up, startled by his boss’s sudden booming voice.

He had been so caught up in the moment with Siwoon, he had almost forgotten about the lunch break.

"Yeah, I’m coming!" he called back, his voice slightly agitated. He gave Siwoon a small, reassuring smile. Before standing up.

"How about some lunch, buddy?" he asked,

trying to keep his voice light. He smiled warmly at Siwoon. And grabbed his hand walking toward office room.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

_______________TO BE CONTINUED

(I didn't recheck so unsee my mistakes in grammar spelling I hope you guys enjoyed the first one chap look forward for more. Do note & reblog🍃 & let me know your opinion pls :' ()

and lastly so soon sorry for late update >:

[denial-permanente]

You often mentioned that to start off Etsy/ Amazon etc offer cheap Chinese copies of devices which are good to get an idea of what fits.

My thought has always gone to the health risk that there is in buying anything that comes from China and is cheap. Do you have any advice on how to avoid stuff made of harmful plastics/covered in toxic chemicals?

🔏 Okay, buckle in, we're going for a ride.

Very few people in our consumer society know how anything is made. I'm not joking. Even the simplest items most of us buy are mass produced. When I was growing up, most kids had been to "the factory in town" on a class trip to see things produced. I have seen dozens of different kinds of things being made, from baked goods, to bottled soft drinks, to wine, and of course, to manufactured goods (consumer and industrial products). Now, nobody sees these anymore, and no body gets to have any underlying k edge of how things are made, or how good, ie, quality products differ from crappy consumer items. Hell, most schools no longer have regular shop class anymore (I'm told it's a liability 🙄).

All that is a lead up to this: most consumer driven products (like plastic chastity cages) coming from China are cheap because a) they did not have to so k any mo ey I to development costs, and b) the products are cheap enough so that most people don't care if it breaks, and c) most people can't tell the difference between an okay product and a high end one. A $10 crappy product might have sharp edges and burrs, while an okay $30 product won't. But few people will notice or care about the difference between the $30 cage and the $130 or even the $300 cage.

Now, that said, I am wearing a Chinese made A272 cage that I bought about seven or eight years ago, and have been wearing steadily (and now permanently) since. Did I get lucky? Maybe. I've bought other Chinese stainless steel cages just to test them out, and most were junk. And even this particular cage came with a crappy knockoff Burg Wachter ME/2 barrel lock. I ended up buying a few more, better quality locks as backups.

Okay, I got that off my chest. 😅

Here's the problem with buying those cheap Chinese cages: you can't tell what you're getting. The Cobra knockoffs have been reported to have color dye that irritates some people. The locks will probably need to be replaced with decent ones. The molds will probably leave the cages with sharp edges that could irritate sensitive skin. And don't even get me started on the quality of the plastic. Many years ago I bought a cage that was advertised as stainless steel. The cage was, but the rings were cheap metal with chrome plating. That would have been a major reaction for a lot of other guys.

So while I do suggest that some people experiment with the cheap cages in order to get a feel for what works, I also follow that up with suggesting that when they figure out what works, to use that information to help pick out a quality cage. A few months in and out of a crappy cage will probably not poison you; the harmful chemicals in those plastics are fairly well bound up.

And until Consumer Reports starts reviewing them, then about the best you can hope for is reading the various discussion groups to glean whatever information you can.

[ckret2]

Chapter 25 of human Bill is the Mystery Shack's prisoner and somehow befriended Mabel: in which Bill and Mabel make friendship bracelets. It's heartwarming. Bill is not, I repeat, not secretly up to anything nefarious.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the chapter, Bill is secretly up to something nefarious.

####

"I'll be back in exactly one hour," Ford said. "Be finished showering by then. You've got everything you need, as well as..." He looked disdainfully at a baggie of shampoo and conditioner sample bottles, "your gift from the Northwests."

Bill eyed the Northwests' little care package skeptically. Four entire separate products that were supposed to be used all in one shower. He was drowning in mammal-cleaning slimes. What a waste of his time. "You don't expect me to use allthis junk, do you?"

"Frankly, as long as you aren't bald and don't smell like gnome urine in an hour, I don't care what happens between now and then."

"You're the most merciful warden I've ever had, Stanford."

Ford wasn't sure if that was supposed to be sarcasm or an awkward glimpse into Bill's sordid history, so he just shut the bathroom door. "One hour."

"One hour!" Bill waited until he couldn't hear Ford's footsteps; and then he turned on the shower, fished a crushed cider can and eight candles out of his hoodie, and stood on the wooden crate by the window.

Over the last few days, he'd spent every spare private moment using toothpaste and toilet paper to polish the bottom of the can into a perfect, shining, concave mirror. Now, he held it up to the window with one of the candles, using the mirror to focus the sun into a point on the wick of the candle... and...

It took a couple minutes of agonizing patience, but finally the wick smoked and then ignited. Yes. Moving carefully so he wouldn't douse the flame, he used the burning candle to melt the bottoms of the other candles just enough to stick them to the floor, lit them in turn, and in the middle Bill quickly made a (frankly terrible) drawing of Kryptos by finger painting with a tube of toothpaste.

And then he knelt in front of the candle circle, and—quietly enough that the shower covered the sound—he started chanting.

Some humans called Bill a dream demon. It wasn't exactly wrong, even if calling him a dream demon was kind of like naming the entire human race "the mountain bikers."

Which was to say, if Bill was a "dream demon," then so were the rest of his people. The other surviving shapes could cast themselves like shadows onto the walls and floors of other dimensions, slip through the cracks in reality that were too thin to accommodate the depths of three-dimensional creatures, and wander through the higher dimensions' mindscapes.

It was just that it was only one of their many side hobbies rather than their main pursuit as a species—and not a particularly popular hobby, at that. Most shapes weren't into taking safaris through aliens' dreams.

Out of the shapes Bill still hung out with, Hectorgon wouldn't do it; he appreciated why Bill went on his psychic excursions for the everyone's benefit, but skulking in a higher plane's second dimension made Hectorgon feel voyeuristic—and he'd only gotten more uncomfortable with the idea since his three-dimensional makeover. Bill could wheedle a majority of Amorphous Shape into a sightseeing trip once a millennium or so, but they were just a passive tour group who would be lost without Bill as their tour guide. Kryptos alone had taken enough of an interest in alien mindscapes to make the leap from "occasional tourist" to "frequent traveler." He was the only one other than Bill who spent enough time on Earth to network with the locals; and he was the only one other than Bill who had bothered to set up a summoning ritual, in case an earthbound buddy wanted to ring him up for a party.

Kryptos's party line was going to be Bill's salvation.

Which was a shame, because Bill just knew Kryptos would be annoying about this for the next million years. He'd worry about finding a way to bully Krypt into not lording it over him after he was safely back home in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion.

But when Bill called, nothing happened.

That wasn't right. Nothing wasn't supposed to happen. Even if Krypt didn't pick up, Bill should feel the spell working. The sound of the shower should pause. The air should go still and cool. Everything should be gray.

Bill opened his eyes. Nothing was gray. He checked each candle to make sure they were all lit, checked his drawing to make sure it looked right—it wasn't exactly flattering, but the lines were straight and the angles were correct, and anyway it was recognizable enough to work for the summoning. He remembered the words, he knew he remembered the words.

Try again. He shut his eyes. "Rhombus sapphirinus. Fraternitas, caritas, veritas. Te invoco, te invito." And then, not because it was necessary but because he was getting mad, he tacked on, "Responde mihi, quadrum defututum! Culum tuum calcitrabo!"

Nothing. The world went on un-paused. Bill remained awake. He opened his eyes to the vibrant, colorful, tragically real world around him.

It didn't make sense. Even without his powers, he should be able to reach Kryptos. Any human could do this ritual, and Bill knew a whole lot more than any human. Either Kryptos was dead (unlikely; but without Bill there...), or something was blocking Bill. The block could be inside him—maybe the Axolotl was sealing off even this paltry little magic—or outside, some sort of shield blocking the mindscape. But whatever the source, the result was the same:

He couldn't get a call out. Nobody, not even his oldest friends, could hear him.

He stared at Kryptos's ugly mug for a long moment; then blew out the candles, hid them and the crushed can back in his hoodie, used toilet paper to wipe the toothpaste and wax off the floor, and got in the shower.

If he wanted to get out, he had to make new friends. He'd been making some good progress lately, particularly with Mabel. Perhaps it was time to test just how far her compassion could get him.

####

Prisma the Rainbow Fairy said, "Gee, Sunny Cat, I haven't seen you spending time with Teddy Tender lately. What happened?"

"He's a killjoy," Bill said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV. "He's a wet blanket."

A sunshine-yellow bipedal cat said, "Teddy's so sad today, and it's making me sad. I don't want to hang out with him when he's like this!"

"That's what I said," Bill said. Heckling the characters helped distract him from the urge to scratch the exposed skin on his arms until he scraped it off his bones. After showering, his hoodie had been confiscated for a round of emergency post-eye-bat-repellant laundry, and he was temporarily back in a reject gift shop t-shirt. He felt exposed.

Prisma said, "Sometimes when our friends are sad, all they need is another friend to give them a hug or tell them they care. It'll help them feel happier."

"I don't know," Sunny said. "When I feel sad, being around other people makes me feel worse."

"Everyone's a little different, Sunny. Why don't you offer to hold his hand and see if that makes him happier?"

"I guess I could try."

"Nah, it's too late for Teddy," Bill told the TV. With some glee, he added, "The most caring thing you could do is put him out of his misery."

Mabel, sitting up on the couch with three colors of embroidery floss tangled around her fingers, lightly kicked the back of Bill's head. He grinned wider. Mabel said, "Bill, I don't think you're taking this seriously."

"Was I supposed to?"

"It's a beautiful June day and I'm inside with you, so you could at least pretend to. I thought you were a good liar."

"I've never told a lie in my life," lied Bill. "But okay, fine. I've seen the error of my ruthless ways. Maybe there's hope for Teddy yet."

Mabel nodded, mollified. She set aside her current project and rummaged through her bag of embroidery floss. "Hey Bill, what's your favorite color?"

"Gold!"

"Why did I ask. What's your next favorite color?"

"Every color simultaneously superimposed over each other, instantly blinding you!"

Mabel tried to picture that. She imagined a rainbow that was also a laser that was also iridescent. Her mental image looked a lot like Prisma's combat magic. "You have such good taste."

"It takes good taste to recognize good taste!" Bill mentally reviewed the last couple minutes of conversation, saw an opportunity to bolster the "reforming monster" image he was trying to sell to Mabel, and added, "By the way—thanks for sticking around just to keep me entertained!" (See: he can say thank you unprompted.) "This sure isn't where I'd want to spend my afternoon," he laughed wryly, "but unlike me, you have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "It stinks. I wish you could go outside with me."

Bill quietly, smugly filed that statement away for later use.

Mabel pulled a couple fresh rolls of embroidery floss out of her bag and got to work with them. "We can't set off fireworks inside the shack. Or play with Soos's paintball guns."

Bill's smugness vanished, leaving behind only the hollow feeling of missing out on a lot of fun. Fireworks and paintball guns. Those were three of his favorite things: explosions, colors, and interpersonal violence.

Mabel went on, "And Candy's saved up three years of Magic Vision Poster calendars to wallpaper the inside of her closet. She read online that if you cross your eyes just right to make them all look 3D at the same time, you can hallucinate going inside them! We're gonna try it out tomorrow. That seems like something you'd like."

"What!" Bill groaned. "I've always wanted to see an autostereogram poster with two eyes! Now here I am, stuck in a stupid meat body, and I don't even get to enjoy the only thing binocular vision is good for?"

Mabel patted his shoulder.

"Back home I've got a chair with autostereogram detailing. I've never actually seen it work. And where is it when I've got two eyes?"

"I think they've got Magic Vision books in the kids' section at the library," Mabel said. "Do you want me to check one out for you?"

Bill glared at the TV, silently fuming. Then he muttered, "Yeah. I'd like that. Thanks."

The low-stakes drama on Color Critters was resolved when Sunny asked Teddy Tender if he wanted to maybe hug or hold hands until he felt less sad, and Teddy revealed he felt bad because he was lonely when he hadn't had a play date with a friend in a while. Sunny and Teddy went to the playground together, the gray swings and slide and seesaw blooming orange and yellow as they played. Crisis of the day concluded. Prisma watched proudly, before joining in the play herself. Bill was not jealous of their freedom to go to the playground.

As the credits rolled, Mabel said, "There! Give me your hand!"

Bill stuck his right arm straight out to his side. "Why—?"

Mabel wrapped something thin around his wrist, and there was a quick tug as she tied it off. "Bam! You just got friendshipped!"

"What?" Bill pulled back his wrist to examine Mabel's handiwork. It was a bracelet made out of embroidery floss knotted together into a flat band as wide as his thumb. "What is this?" Stupid question.

"A friendship bracelet!" (Of course it was a friendship bracelet; he was passingly familiar with the art form, he'd seen it centuries before they were called "friendship" bracelets.) "Make a wish."

He wished to get his body back.

"You've gotta wear the bracelet until it breaks, and then the wish'll come true."

And if he believed that, he'd already be chewing through the knot. "And, why am I getting this?"

"Because we're friends!"

"Oh." Well. Yes. Obviously.

He examined the bracelet more closely. The band formed a zig-zag pattern of black and metallic gold triangles; and Mabel had tied glass beads that looked like eyes over several of the gold triangles.

"I didn't have every color simultaneously, but I thought the black would make the gold pop." Mabel pointed at the triangles. "Look! It's you."

"I can see that." She'd used nazar beads for the eyes—a dot of black ringed in blue and white. A little eye-shaped lucky charm humans had been using to ward off the evil eye for millennia. Cute. He laughed, pointing at the beads. "So is this supposed to protect me from the evil eye, or am I the evil eye you're protecting everyone else from?"

Mabel was thirteen. Mabel hadn't put any deeper thought into it than these look like eyes. All the same, Mabel didn't hesitate before replying: "I'm turning your face into a protective charm! Now you've got to keep everyone safe!"

"Oh." And that, too, Bill quietly filed away.

"I expect you to take your new job seriously," Mabel said, pointing at him. "Don't let me down!"

"You give me a gift with my face on it and then tack on a bunch of extra terms and conditions. Very slick, kid." He admired the bracelet. It really was a pretty fine offering. He hadn't been gifted textiles in a while. "But all right! I've never gone back on a deal before," lied Bill.

Though it galled him to get something without a way to pay back the favor. It felt uneven. People don't want a god who grants miracles worth less than the tribute he'd been offered. He ran down his usual list of tricks—he couldn't snap his fingers and summon up a dream gift, he didn't have any useful info he could offer without prompting an interrogation session with his jailers, right now he couldn't even call somebody else to pull some strings on her behalf... His gaze drifted over to Mabel's bag of embroidery threads. He could see beads and a couple more friendship bracelets inside. "How many of these are you making?"

"A bunch! I'm giving one out to each new friend I make this summer."

That'd do. "Teach me."

"You what?"

"Teach me." He turned around to face the couch and pointed toward the bag. "You're making them anyway, right? Just show me as you go."

Mabel stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? She thought he was serious.

A broad smile stretched across her face. "Okay!" She dug beneath her supplies for a little dog-eared friendship bracelet pattern book. "What kind of jewelry making experience do you have? Especially involving beads or knots."

"I can tie a living creature's blood vessels into quipu knots that spell my name—all without breaking the skin!"

"That's great! Can you do it with embroidery floss instead of blood vessels."

Bill eyed the bundle of floss Mabel held out. "Yes."

"Perfect!" She shoved four thread colors in his hands, a pair of scissors, a jar of pony beads, thought better and quickly took back the scissors, and added a roll of parachute cord. "I'll teach you everything I know. Even my secret trick to keep the edges from going all wobbly! We'll start you on chevrons and then move up to teardrop loops and triangle ends." She put her hands on Bill's shoulders, looked him in his uncovered eye, and said, "I'm gonna make you a friendship bracelet master."

Solemnly, Bill said, "I'm ready."

####

Ford squinted blearily into the living room.

Sitting alone on the far side of the room, Bill was bent over the living room table, fussing with several multicolored strings and a few beads.

Bill glanced at Ford from the corner of his eye, and then—with a faint smirk—turned back to his project without a word. Oh, he wanted Ford to ask. He was dying for Ford to ask.

It was too early for this. Ford wasn't dealing with it before coffee. He shook his head and shuffled onward to the kitchen.

Stan was already up, eating eggs with some unidentified liquid meat poured over them. Over the past year, typically Ford had been the earlier riser; but this summer Stan had gotten used to Ford pulling late nights downstairs as he worked on his research, so he didn't comment on Ford's sleeping in as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

But Stan did look at Ford's face and immediately ask, "Okay. What's the latest Bill bullsh... soup? Bullsoup."

"He's..." Ford tried to figure out what Bill was doing. "Making jewelry in the living room, I think."

Stan grunted and nodded. "Yeah, he was doing that yesterday with Mabel."

"Well, now he's doing it by himself."

Stan raised a brow.

The Stans leaned around the living room doorway to watch Bill. 

Bill was engrossed with picking out a mis-tied knot, frowning deeply in concentration, one eye squeezed shut and the other squinted. He smoothed out the thread, his face relaxed; and then he glanced at the doorway, did a double take, and his shoulders went up around his ears. "What am I, a zoo attraction? Shoo! Scat!" He waved them away. "I'll throw salt at you!"

Ford raised his palms defensively. Stan said, "Okay okay, we're going."

They retreated to the kitchen.

"Well?" Stan pressed. "Is he up to dangerous voodoo stuff?"

"I'm fairy certain Bill doesn't practice Vodou."

"Answer the question, smart aleck."

Ford ran through every form of magic incorporating strings or knots he could think of. It was a pretty short list, and most of it was used for protection or binding separate things together. "Not that I know of," he said dubiously. "But it's more likely he's up to something I don't know about than it is that he's doing arts and crafts. Don't you think?"

Stan considered that. He shrugged. "Eh," he said. "It can wait 'til after coffee."

Eh. Ford was tired. He didn't want to go to red alert over some string and plastic beads. He sat down with his mug.

####

"I'm home!" Mabel called. "Biiill, I couldn't get you a Magic Vision book! The pictures in Candy's closet started moving, and I don't know if we were hallucinating or if we accidentally summoned an invisible holographic horse you can only see when you cross your eyes, so we decided to burn the posters and library books to be safe! Do you know if Magic Vision Posters summon things...?"

"I wish," Bill said. "But hey, I've got something better. Gimme your hand."

Mabel held out her hand, half pulled it back, and said, "Why?"

"Relax." Bill grabbed her wrist, tied on a bracelet, and said, "Make a wish!" He grinned. "You're impressed, admit it. Tell me you're impressed."

Mabel studied the bracelet. "Whoa." Purple, green, and orange threads formed lacy loops around a central thread, forming an endless wave that rolled up and down. The threads passed through several star-shaped pony beads, making the wave look like the tails of shooting stars. "A Peruvian wave with a perfectly straight center cord. That takes crazy precise string tension." She looked at Bill. "I have nothing more to teach you."

"Thank you, teacher."

"Is this supposed to look like my sweater?" Mabel asked, studying the pink in the tassels tying the bracelet on. "The one on your zodiac thing?"

"Sure! You gave me one that looks like me, I gave you one that represents you. Friendship's supposed to go both ways, right?"

"Bill! Is this why you wanted to learn to make friendship bracelets?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Biiill! You're being so nice!" Mabel flung her arms around him. "I love it!" And then she took off, running laps around the living room, cackling madly and waving her braceleted arm in the air. Abuelita, who'd been watching TV, calmly turned to watch Mabel zoom around.

Oh, this was great. Look at this, Bill was the best at being a friend. Everyone who'd ever ditched him was a moron who didn't know what they were missing out on. They could've gotten personalized friendship bracelets. Maybe he should have offered Ford a friendship bracelet? No, that was stupid, why would Ford prefer a friendship bracelet over unimaginable cosmic power. But then it didn't have to be either-or, did it? Ford's favorite color was red, what went with red?

When Mabel had gotten the enthusiasm out of her system, she trotted back out to the entryway and hugged Bill again. He endured it. "You won't stop making friendship bracelets now that you've made this, will you?" Mabel asked. "You're such a natural at it! And you need more hobbies that are constructive instead of destructive."

"Ouch, kid. I'll have you know I have plenty of constructive hobbies."

"I don't believe it. Name one thing you like creating."

"Weirdness bubbles."

"Name one thing you like creating that doesn't terrify people."

Bill pursed his lips. "Agree to disagree. Anyway, I'm not getting out of the friendship bracelet game just yet. In fact, I've already got another few projects in mind."

####

Bill plopped down at the kitchen table across from Mabel. "Hey star girl. Guess what."

She looked up from her cereal at the dark rings under Bill's eyes. He had one eye squeezed shut; he could usually keep both open when he'd just woken up. "Were you up all night?"

"Doesn't matter. Time is an illusion and I can see the projector. I'm counting that as your guess. Look." Bill tossed two matching bracelets down on the table between them, deep watermelon pink and minty green, shaped like macrame chains with hearts where each link of the chain met.

"Aww, little hearts."

"Thought you'd like the hearts."

Mabel picked up one end of the bracelet and slipped it on—and then noticed the long coil of embroidery floss connecting the end of one bracelet to the other. "Bill? What's this for?"

"Didn't you say a few days ago that you wished we could go outside together? I thought up a perfect solution!"

With a sudden sense of dread, Mabel realized that the chain pattern and the string connecting the bracelets made them look like an extremely long pair of handcuffs; but before she could take off her half, Bill picked up the other bracelet and said, "There's a little magic in these, look. When both ends are being worn—" He slipped on the bracelet, and Mabel felt its matching pair gently tighten around her wrist. The string connecting them vanished into thin air.

Mabel gasped. "What—?"

"Poof! It's like a ghost: still there, but invisible to human eyes. We could even go into separate rooms and it'll connect us through the walls." He demonstrated by waving his hand under the table. "But we can't get farther apart than the length of the thread. I gave it about ten yards." He plucked up something invisible and gave it a tug, and Mabel felt the bracelet go taut against her wrist. There was no force, no matter how hard Bill tugged she didn't feel like the bracelet was pulling her; rather, it felt like the other end of the thread was tied to an immobile boulder preventing her from moving further away, until she moved her hand closer to Bill's to give the thread a little slack. "And..."

Mabel tried to jerk the bracelet off her wrist; it stuck around her hand. "How do I get it off?! Bill—!"

Bill put a finger on her hand, stopping her. He said, "Neither of us can take our end off until we both decide we're ready. Like... now." He winked; and the bracelet suddenly loosened again.

Mabel pulled it off with a sigh of relief.

"Unless one of us dies or something, I guess," Bill said thoughtfully. "That'd deactivate the magic. It'd be pretty gristly to have to keep sharing a friendship bracelet with a corpse!" He laughed. "Anyway—"

Mabel chucked the bracelet in his face. "That was mean!"

Bill blinked in surprise. "What was?"

"You tricked me!" She cradled her wrist against her chest, heart still pounding from the brief unexpected captivity.

"I did not!" He took the bracelets back and started coiling up the thread between them. "You put yours on before I even said anything."

"But you could have warned me before you got us stuck together!"

"Sure, I could have, but would you have kept it on then?"

"No, you jerk. That's the point!" She looked around for something else to chuck at Bill's face, plucked a dry piece of cereal from her bowl, and flicked it at his nose. 

Bill endured his punishment without flinching. "Well, sorry, but I had to demonstrate how they work somehow." He twirled the bracelets around one fingertip. "This solves your whole 'can't let the big scary triangle out unsupervised' problem! Slap these bad boys on, and I've got automatic supervision that I can't escape! Maybe this'll convince the adults that I can be trusted outside, right?" He ate the piece of cereal. "So? What do you think?"

She thought he was still a jerk. All the same, she studied the chain bracelets. "Did you just make me a gift that's actually a gift for yourself?"

He didn't even look a little bit ashamed. "I prefer to think of it as something we'll both benefit from!"

"Bill."

"C'mooon. You know you want me out there." He lowered his voice. "Who else in this town will help you break into the pet shop to dye the dogs' fur?"

Oooh. Mabel should not have told Bill about that ambition. "Well..."

"Or help you grill hamburgers with sprinkles. You know Stanley's never gonna do that for us again," Bill said. "Or what if you need a drive somewhere, huh? The guys with licenses are gonna get tired of trips to the craft store eventually."

"You can't drive!"

"Of course I can drive, didn't you see me during—?" Bill's eyes widened. "Oh no, you didn't see! I can't believe you didn't see my car. You, you would have loved it."

He seemed serious. Maybe he could drive. "You... shouldn't get to drive."

"What if it's an emergency and I'm the only one who can do it. Do you want me in the driver's seat with or without a leash?" He spread his hands in a shrug. "And anyway... think of everything else we could be doing together outside. Purple poodles and pink pugs are just the start, my friend."

Mabel hated when she knew she was being manipulated but Bill still made a good point. She bit her lip and glanced at the clock over the sink. A tour had just started; the gift shop should be empty and the vending machine safe to use.

She got out of her seat, taking her cereal with her. "I'm gonna run this by the household magic expert."

Bill rolled his eye. "Fine. Tell Sixer we're out of apple cider."

####

"Tell Bill we got three packs last time," Ford said. "If that's not enough to hold him one week between grocery trips, then he has a drinking problem."

"Okay, but what about the bracelets?"

Ford set aside the book he'd been reading and studied the bracelets. He slipped one on his wrist.  "Mabel, would you mind putting on the other side?"

"Sure!" She pulled on the bracelet. It tightened around Ford's wrist and the thread between them disappeared. Fascinating.

After a few minutes of experimenting to see how they worked, Ford was fairly sure this was a spell he'd learned about years ago, although he'd lost the details when he tossed his second journal in the bottomless pit. Usually it was done with metal chains—but the spell should make the bracelets nigh on indestructible while the magic was active, so, as promised, it would contain Bill. As long as he didn't murder the person on the other end of the spell.

"So can I take Bill outside?" Mabel asked, hands laced together and eyes wide. "Please please please?"

"You did hear what I just said about murder, right?"

"We'll bring someone else along! Bill wouldn't try to kill me if someone else is standing guard!" (At least she still recognized that there were circumstances where Bill would try to kill her.) "He's been stuck inside for weeks. That's not healthy! He needs to stretch his legs, get some sunshine!" She smacked Ford's desk as a thought occurred to her, "And we need to take him clothes shopping. I can tell he's uncomfortable in gift shop t-shirts and Abuelita's skirts. Does he even like skirts?" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Does he even have underwear, or is he still wearing Soos's old swim trunks?"

Ford winced. "Melody was kind enough to pick some up a few days ago." But he could admit it had taken them longer than it should have.

"What about the rest of his clothes? Does he have a bra?"

"Wh—" Ford sputtered. "Does he want one?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked. It might be more comfortable. He has a lot of chest."

Lord. Ford closed his eyes. He did not want to think about bras.

"Pleeease?" Mabel said. "I wanna take him clothes shopping. He's probably never explored human fashion before! He's got to find his style. I can be his style consultant."

Aha. So that was what Mabel was getting out of all this: a person-sized dress-up doll.

Truth be told, they probably should take Bill outside. Depending on how Fiddleford's research proceeded, destroying Bill could take weeks, if not months. If there were ever an emergency, they might need to relocate Bill quickly—so it was better to ensure the bracelets worked as advertised before they became necessary.

"Fine. But this won't be a regular thing," Ford said. "Ask Stan when he can go. And your brother—I'd rather Bill know the numbers are stacked against him. And he's not allowed to talk to anybody outside the shack. You, Dipper, and Stan will have to intercept anybody he might speak to."

"Don't worry about that! I've got the perfect solution," Mabel said. "What if Grunkle Stan doesn't want to go?"

"Ask him to talk to me. I think I can convey the importance."

"You don't want to come? Are you too busy figuring out how to kill him?" Mabel's gaze moved to the books Ford had been reading.

Ford suppressed the urge to shut the books and hide the papers beside them. Mabel wouldn't be able to understand the books anyway: it was an ancient Roman historian's description of augury—fortunetelling with birds—and a Latin reference dictionary he was consulting to help him translate. He was more afraid Mabel's gaze would fall on the pages next to the books, where a few vocabulary words from the mystical, mythical language of the birds had been scrawled out in Bill's distinctive chicken scratch.

No, Ford wasn't busy figuring out how to kill Bill. He was still waiting to hear back from Fiddleford about the feasibility of synthesizing or replacing the quantum destabilizer's Dontium; and, in the meantime, he'd allowed himself to believe there was nothing else he could do on his own... and by now, he'd gotten thoroughly distracted. Going through Bill's notes, verifying his claims, following up on the leads he'd subtly slid in. Bill's miniature grimoire was the most dense magical text since the Emerald Tablet. Opening it up was like a cryptography puzzle mixed with a dissertation research project, and each sentence was a fractal flower of information, a bud that bloomed into a dozen more buds that each bloomed into a dozen more.

It was amazing. Enthralling. This was the kind of research Ford was made for. He was the most relaxed he'd been in weeks.

He hadn't told anybody what he was doing while Fiddleford worked.

"No, not that," he told Mabel, "I just don't want to spend time around Bill. Especially on what's essentially a social trip. Stanley can... handle it better."

"Oh," Mabel said. "That makes sense, I guess."

Ford glanced uneasily at Bill's papers, then looked away before Mabel could see.

He was so caught up in his own shame at getting caught toeing at one of Bill's traps, he didn't notice the quick shameful look on Mabel's face for the same reason.

####

(Thanks for reading! Please drop a comment or reblog if you enjoyed, y'all's commentary is what helps keep me writing. ❤️

Also I feel like Google translate can handle the Latin pretty well if you wanna see what Bill's saying at the start, but it's important to me that you know Google is wrong about "quadrum defututum" and it can actually be more accurately translated as "you square slut.")

[innocent-artery]

TLC

1.7k words

Summary: Reader has to cancel a date due to period sickness, but Steve’s happy to keep them company anyway.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader, what stage they're at in the relationship is up for interpretation

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. Reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to dancin' round the kitchen in the refridgerator light, a spotify playlist by me!

~

You don't remember the gnawing in your gut this morning.

You don't remember feeling like spilling your innards out and then falling into a yearlong sleep when you woke up, but here you were, curled up on the bathroom floor with your arms over your stomach.

A ding from your phone pulled you from your zombie-like state. You groaned and reached for your phone off the bathroom counter.

Steve: On my way soon, want me to pick anything up?

You sigh, chewing your lip.

You: I think I'm going to have to take a rain check, I'm sorry. Woke up feeling pretty sick.

Steve: Ouch. What's the diagnosis?

You: Having a uterus.

Your lip twitched weakly at your own humor, but it was swiftly wiped off by a wince, sharp pain pricking your side. A metaphorical smack on the back of your head from your uterus for talking smack about it.

Steve: I completely understand. Do you need anything?

You: Drugs and sleep.

A few minutes without a response told you the conversation was over. You leaned your head back against the wall only to find more comfort resting it in your arms.

A few minutes of silence passed, you relished it.

That is until the threat of bile tickled up your throat again.

. . .

"Dammit Robin, I know you're not actually busy."

Steve tossed his phone into the grocery cart. It was filled to the brim with various comfort items- stuffed animals, junk food Steve knew you liked, a heating pad.

He ran a hand through his hair, tapping his fingers rapidly on the cart handle. He almost slammed the cart into the aisle reaching for his vibrating phone at the bottom of the basket.

"Hey, uh, why do I have five missed calls from you Steven?"

"Because I need to know what kind of pads are normal pads."

A moment of silence followed by barking laughter came from the other line. Steve held the phone a little farther from his ear until he could no longer hear his friend's laughter. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. Some of us are just late bloomers, Steve, it's normal."

The man in question rolled his eyes even though Robin wouldn't see it. She'd picture it anyways. "Ha ha. It's not for me, dipshit."

Another moment of silence.

And another.

"Ohhhhhhh." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gotcha. Send a picture of the aisle and I'll tell you which ones. Also, unless you know definitively, which I'm guessing you don't, probably best to get tampons too, just in case."

Steve furrowed his brows but didn't question it, ending the phone call with a “‘kay” under his breath, snapping a photo and sending it over.

Robin: Those are adult diapers

Steve: It says maximum hold??

Robin: Yes but that is a diaper Steven

Steve: Okay smartass then what am I looking for

Robin: Uh, pads

Steve threw his hands in the air, looking around for an employee.

“Excuse me? Where can I find feminine products?”

The employee was a teenager, a few years younger than him. She eyed his cart and nearly made heart eyes at him. “Aisle four, down to your left.”

“Thanks.” Steve yanked the cart, wheeling down towards the area. He assumed he was in the right spot when he saw a bunch of very girly packages with what looked like diapers on them.

Steve: What the hell are wings

Robin: LMAO

Robin: They stick to the underwear so the pad stays in place

Steve: So I should get ones with wings?

Robin: It depends person to person. Send me a pic of the aisle again

Steve: [Attatchment: 1 Image]

After a painfully long and headache-inducing conversation, Steve managed to get a decent collection of feminine products (as well as having switched out Tylenol for Midol at Robin’s insistence). Only thing left now was to get it to you.

. . .

As the evening progressed you weren't seeming to feel any better. Pain still racked your body and nausea still taunted you, the taste of vomit still stinging the back of your throat no matter how much water you drank (and struggled to keep down). You'd cried a few times out of frustration and exhaustion but the negative energy you'd expelled didn't take long to build up again. You'd retired to your bed long ago, the television playing something you weren't entirely paying attention to as the backs of your eyelids gradually became a more appealing view.

So understandably you were ready for murder when you heard the doorbell ring.

Heaving a long, rage-infused sigh, you pulled yourself out of your loving bed and trudged through the apartment towards the door.

Looking through the peephole with blurry eyes, you could barely make out the figure of Steve, whose arms were both weighed down with grocery bags.

You nearly sobbed at the sight, leaning your forehead against the door. You prayed the tears welling in your eyes and overwhelmed smile weren't as evident as they felt as you opened the door, but upon seeing his face closer you failed to hide them miserably.

Steve's face, once donning an encouraging smile, dropped in shock. "Whoa- hey, hey, what's wrong? Sweetheart, what is it?"

"You!" Was all you could muster.

The confusion on Steve's face only worsened. "Not you!" You panicked, putting your hands up. "You're just nice, and I'm a mess."

Steve's face melted back into a smile, laughing softly as he gently dropped the bags in his hands. "C'mere."

You waddled pathetically into Steve's outstretched arms, nuzzling your head into his chest and closing your eyes. One of his hands stroked down your back, the other rested on your head in his shoulder.

"It's okay, everything is going to be okay. Deep breaths. In..." Steve took a deep inhale. "And out..." he exhaled. You mimicked his actions, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat.

After a few moments of calmed silence, you brought your head out of the crook of his shoulder to look at him. "Thank you," you murmured.

"It's nothing. Come on, let's get you back in bed." Steve gave you a smile, and your heart melted instantaneously. Patting your back, the boy ushered you inside, picking up the bags and shutting the door behind him with his foot.

But before you could reach the hallway, an unmistakable, hideous feeling that had been simmering in your stomach became stronger, and you bolted for the bathroom.

Steve followed, panicked, finding you with your head in the toilet moments later. He sighed, coming up slowly behind you, putting a hand to your back to signal he was there before softly taking your hair and holding it away from your face.

Once you were done spluttering and gasping, you flushed and sat up a little, grimacing weakly at Steve.

He only responded with a sympathetic look. "I'll get you some water."

Once he had messily tucked your hair into your shirt, Steve stood, returning a minute later with a fresh glass that you gladly began sipping, throat slimy and stinging.

"Slow sips." Steve whispered.

When you finished, you handed him the cup, making a noise that sounded like a laugh but was actually miserable and exhausted and devoid of humor. "I'm so fucking tired."

Steve only watched you, nodding slightly.

"Everything hurts, and nothing is working. I've done everything the internet tells me and I'm still stuck sitting on the floor. Crying doesn't help, throwing up doesn't help, I can't sleep-" your sentence was interrupted by the lump in your throat. "And it's only the first day."

Steve had a pitying look on his face. He wanted to wrap you up in love and comfort and make everything better for you, but he knew that unfortunately his assistance could only help so much. He took your trembling hand in his, rubbing soft circles into the back of your palm.

You sniffled, looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry you're putting up with this, Steve. This is so charming of me, isn't it?"

"I've never been more in love." Your heart panged, primarily because he sounded entirely sincere.

You looked down quickly at your knees, which made Steve chuckle. "Are you ready to go back to bed or is there still more coming?"

You shook your head. "Bed."

Steve held out a hand to help you up, his movements always slow and gentle as he led you to bed.

"I'll be right back," he promised with a kiss to your hairline, and you silently questioned what he was doing- he had the sound in his voice he got when he had an idea.

The grocery bags he'd brought, that you'd long forgotten about, were hauled into your bedroom a moment later. Steve set them on the floor, tugging out item after item. A box of crackers, a bottle of medicine, a heating pad, a huge pink stuffed rabbit that, upon taking it in your arms, was weighted. You felt tears well up again.

When you gave a sniff, Steve looked over at you. "Oh, goodness." He crawled over towards you, pulling you into another sweet hug.

"I'm sorry." You said weakly, cheeks hurting from smiling. "I'm happy crying, I promise."

You felt Steve laugh softly against you. "I know, honey, I know. Do you want to put something on?"

You nodded, taking the remote. As you scrolled, you heard Steve moving things around the room, setting up pillows, plugging in the heating pad, and placing a pill and water on your nightstand.

"Your throne is ready, your highness." Steve said proudly, patting the pillows beside him. He'd long kicked his shoes off and made himself comfortable, legs crossed and arm stretched out over the space next to him he indicated was yours. You scooted over towards him with a giggle.

"Here, take this." Steve reached for the medicine on your nightstand and handed it to you. While you took it, Steve placed the heating pad over your lap, and then the weighted bear over it.

Steve gave your shoulder a loving pat. "Comfortable?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I am. Thanks again, Stevie."

Steve pressed a kiss to your temple. "You're very welcome."

And, unexpected to you, you actually found restful sleep that night.

~

[heartfullofleeches]

I'm fixating over a character I haven't properly introduced so - Marshmallow Milk Hcs

🌌 The youngest of the hybrids and the owner of the only candy store in town, Marlow is a gentle cow with their head in the clouds and sight set on the stars, speaking of dreams of course. Marlow sleeps the day and night away, relying on the trust of strangers to run their shop. They'll come back every now and to check up on friends and spend time with their dear Coco. While they do love the drink, you're what completes them. They wouldn't give up a moment with you for anything in the world. Not even the perfect dream where the two of you are happily married and ruining the shop together. They hope one day that dream can become a reality.

🌌 Marlow is a different breed to their fellow hybrids. Rather than being made of flesh and blood, their body is almost entirely made of marshmallow fluff. It's the perfect topping for a nice cup of hot chocolate or a fresh cake. There was a slight mix up in production as they're missing their right leg, but they had a prosthetic made for them by that nice cow who runs the junk yard. Marshmallow tends to misplace it as odd as that may seem. They get so absent-minded they'd have trouble keeping track of their things even if they were glued to their own two hands. Once, their leg ended up on at your front door without them. How strange is that? Oh wait - they fell asleep in the brush. Since you're waking them, maybe you can help them find other things they lost. They'd ask you to find their heart but that's already in your hands.

🌌 Coco is their go to nickname, but they also call you squish/squishy. It's fun to poke your cheeks and sizes. So soft and squishy just like a marshmallow

🌌 Marlow has a vocal habit of drawing out their words and has a lisps after drinking warm beverages due to the state of their body. "Gooood Morning, Coco~" "Did you have a good night's sweep?" "I wuuuuv you." "Don't go."

🌌They have difficulty telling dreams from reality. It's hard not to with how often they doze off and how vivid their dreams feel. Just like week they had a dream about that tourist visiting town asking you out on a date. The knife in their heart when you said yes felt so real they woke right up and ran over to your house. You informed them that tourist apparently left that afternoon and had done no such thing. Silly Marlow. They wished you a good night and went back home to fall asleep after a nice bath. Their hands were so sticky for some reason

🌌To call Marlow a sleepwalker is an understatement. They can whip up an entire bath or fudge squares and hold an hour long conversation before anyone realizes they're snoring between each word. It's even harder to tell when they're awake or not as they never open their eyes. Their sleep walking has resulted in some odd behaviors such as breaking into your home to leave the treats they sleep bake for on your pillows, following you around stopping only once they're in your bed, and accident confessions. Good thing they're just sleeping though. Marlow doesn't remember a single thing they've done while sleep walking, but sometimes they'll mention still being tired afterwards.

🌌Overall, if you're looking for a low maintenance partner who loves naps and baking Marlow is your best choice. Take a break from the troubles of life and lay on the floor with them, watching the ceiling of glow in the dark stares at you waste the day away in each other's arms. If you have trouble sleeping just take a bite of the sweets they make for that very reason. Marlow's dream pops sell out quick, but they keep one in their pocket for you whenever you're feeling down or have too much energy for your own good. This way, you might even see each other while you're sleeping. They're always watching - one way or another.

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever been in a public washroom, or even at a friend's house, and realized they cheaped out on toilet paper? Doctors are united in their consensus: rough-feeling, inexpensive toilet paper sucks. It might even kill you, they imply strongly. Don't worry, though, there is a solution, and it doesn't even involve awkwardly asking someone to spend a buck on TP.

Introducing the Seat Safety Switch Solutions Bath Products Softener Mill/Pulper. Sure, that name is pretty long, but we have to be extremely specific because of our battle with our former manufacturing firm, which has now renamed itself to Shenzhen Safety Switch Solutions and is kicking the shit out of us in the market. Don't worry about how long the name is, because you're gonna want one, and everyone at the store will know exactly what it is when you ask. If they pretend like they don't, they're just hiding one in the back, so they can take it home when their shift is over. Ask louder.

Here's how it works. When you're at your friend's place, you can use this device to convert the nasty cheap toilet paper into smoother, baby-soft toilet paper. All you have to do is cram a whole pile of it in there, and then the portable mill will re-process the toilet paper into a much thicker, higher-quality weave. Give us a few more bucks and we'll even put in a diamond-quilting option. You're worth it.

Sure, it takes a lot of toilet paper on the input. It'll take about two rolls of the cheap paper to make a single square of the good stuff. You won't need as much, though, and you're not paying for it. What you are paying for, and our lawyers insist that we be extremely explicit about this aspect of it, is the fuel to run the V8 engine that operates the mill. Don't worry. I know what you're gonna say: isn't that heavy and loud? We combed the junkyards to find the smallest V8 (a mere 4.4L) and stuck a couple coffee cans on the ports for a muffler. As long as you keep it topped up with fuel – we do have a propane conversion kit, for a couple extra bucks – it can have your ass wiped in less than an hour.

Overall, these disadvantages are worth it never to feel the discomfort of sandpaper on your butthole, ever again. And if you're especially cheap, you may even realize that you can convert all that unwanted junk mail around the house into toilet paper, too, but our lawyers would caution you against doing so and will expressly state that we do not endorse such an act. Just give it a hearty thumbs-up.

[nakasumi-sims]

Neal Ward for @jonquilyst Total Drama Sims 2

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Pansexual

Aspiration: Master Actor

Traits: Loner and Active

Hometown: Del Sol Valley

Likes: Acting, Media Production, Painting, Junk Food, His Brother, Pranks, Movies

Dislikes: Pipe Organ, Authority Figures

Skills: Acting - 3/ Comedy - 2 /Dancing - 1 / Fitness - 3/ Logic - 2/ Media Production - 3 /Mischief - 2 / Painting - 5 /Skiiing - 3 /Snowboarding - 3 /Vampire Lore - 2

Neal is the son of superstars Judith Ward and Merrick Koizumi. Him and his twin brother, Gabriel, are the product of a Hollywood marriage only meant to mutually boost their parents' careers, and they just happened on accident. Judith wanted some new young arm candy as a fame boost and Merrick wanted someone to leech fame off of to accelerate his career.

While accomplishing their own goals, the twin boys were an afterthought. Neal and Gabriel were mostly left to their own devices. They were mostly raised by a revolving door of nannies, but every so often Merrick would make time for them and visit since Judith wouldn't even change their diapers.

"'Sup I'm Neal Ward. You've probably heard of renown actress Judith Ward, yea? That's good ol mommy dearest. Is she as bad as everyone says? For the most part, yea. As for my dad, you'd know him as the famous model, actor, and singer Merrick Koizumi. And no, just in case you're afraid, I didn't inherit the vampire genes. Buuuuut I might still bite ya if you ask."

"Honestly, I'd rather be left alone with Gabriel. We're twins if you couldn't tell. Mom and dad weren't really expecting us, but as mom says, 'oh good two at the same time, they can entertain each other and I don't have to do anything!' Mommy dearest only really made time for us if we needed to make her look good. I was happy to get attention after dad noticed I was into art so it was fun when he visited. He always encouraged me to pursue my art. Yet he also had this like ridiculous air of jealousy about it? I dunno. I didn't really give a crap. He's funner to be around than mom, but he's more of a weird friend than a dad. They're both too dramatic and self absorbed, but he cares more than her. We live in Del Sol with mom in her mansion while dad lives in his weird house over in Forgotten Hallow. I did run away from the mansion with Gabriel a few times to Forgotten Hallow to try and live with dad instead, but there's like no food or anywhere to sleep except for a couple of uncomfortable benches.

Most of my life, my brother and I have spent a lot of our time on sets or playing different sports together. We're both active, but the only team I'd want to be on is his. He's the one who wants to get into extreme sports and we always have a good time surfing and snowboarding together. He's better at it than me, but that's fine."

"My dream is to become an actor like my parents so I can be better than them at their own game. It's not completely out of spite though. I really do love acting. It's such a thrill to be on stage and performing. The feeling you get when shaking someone to their very core when you finish a scene is exhilarating and you just feel so powerful. However, being in the shadows of my parents sucks. I'm so done with anything I do being compared to them. It makes it really irritating to interact with anyone new cause it's always about them. Tch, at least I got Gabriel and no one is gonna be able to separate us."

One day, while Neal was wandering around the studio lots, he came across the abandoned lot that was planned to be the set for TDS2! Stunned, he ran back to Gabriel to tell him about his find and then they ran back to the set Judith was shooting her latest movie. They both told her of the find in excited unison to have the news revealed to them by her agent that Judith was sending Neal to be on the show! She said, quote, "Those two needed some separation they're ridiculously close and only keep to themselves. I just wanted them to get away from each other for awhile...and me. I got more to film overseas so I'm letting that show babysit Neal while Gabriel goes to Mt. Komorebi to train with some sports reality show. They get a place to sleep and food so what else do they need? It also spreads the Ward name so he better win or at least not get kicked off until I'm done shooting. I'm so glad I don't have to drag them around with me for awhile. Toodles, boys! Have fun!"

They were both devastated at the news of being separated for the time being. How could they function without each other after doing everything together for their entire short lives?! Neal watched as the private jet whisked Gabriel away with tears. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad? This could be his opportunity to break free from his parents' shadows and into his own spotlight. Forget the names Judith Ward and Merrick Koizumi! Now is Neal Ward's time to shine and rise to fame!

Other info:

Neal got his necklace from Merrick. It's made from blood. It was given to him on his 5th birthday in hopes that eventually he would be a vampire like his father, which never happened. Gabriel also had a matching one, but lost it in the ocean while surfing.

Neal's never really thought about his sexuality and preferences before, but would say he's pansexual like his dad. Anything's a possibility if he's willing to open up to someone that's not his brother.

Neal has some editing skills and has a youtube channel where he vlogs with his brother. Most people like it to get insight on behind the scenes on film and tv sets, but there's also quite a few who follow just to get glimpses or pester him with questions about Judith or Merrick. It does throw him off especially since Merrick has his own youtube channel they could go to.

He does have a bit of his parents' power hungry tendencies even if he doesn't think so.

Their parents split the naming responsibilities so Neal was named by Judith and Gabriel was named by Merrick

He is fully human and didn't inherit any vampire traits. Same with Gabriel, but this ain't about him lmao

Besides nannies, a lot of the time, he got he meals from the cast and crew tables from sets he was on.

He doesn't think too highly of authority

Always down to pull pranks. He used to do a lot of them with Gabriel (especially the ol twin switcharoo but that stopped once Neal changed his hair)

[discocandles]

Charlotte, Henry, and Jasper hcs:

-Jasper gives the best cuddles in swellview, it's unreal. Piper has agreed, and she can barely stand physical contact with other people outside of a firm handshake or the contact needed to maim someone; a fist bump if you're lucky. it's also most common that Jasper is the first to ask about cuddles, especially if he notices Henry or Charlotte might want that.

It's not uncommon to see Charlotte doing homework in junk n' stuff laying against Jasper while he scrolls on his phone. Honestly, it's bad for her productivity(not as bad as the man cave but still). She wants to get her shit done, but that requires grabbing her backpack, and it's comfy where she's at right there. After like a minute of mentally being at war with herself she'll be like "Is it ok if I go to the man cave to grab my backpack? I'll be right back." and Jasper's like "yeah, no problem." and Charlotte's like "ok thanks".

-They have a 1 spotify account between the 3 of them. How they manage to share a singular account is beyond me, and the laws of reason, but they do it. It's technically Henry's account, given he pays for the premium subscription, but it wasn't just his for more than like a week. Their spotify wrapped playlist is disjointed to a comedic degree. Don't even try to get through their liked songs.

They have separate personal playlists for their personal favorites. but the playlist names are indecipherable if you are not them. and they will judge each other's music tastes in the playlist description.

-This might be canon, but Charlote can read Henry like a book. Henry's eyebrows move a centimeter, and Charlotte is getting a burrito bc she sees that he's craving one. She knows the degree of "Is Ray shitting me?" that Henry is feeling the second he comes out the tube, the mask affects nothing. Everyone kinda writes it off like "It's a bit creepy, but it's also Charlotte" & "that's a normal smart person thing to do." which no, it isn't.

Charlotte is most accurate with Henry, but Henry can read Jasper better than Charlotte can, and Jasper can read Charlotte better than Henry. It moves in a triangle of sorts. They also read each other's emotions in different ways. Charlotte goes off of facial expressions, Henry by the tone of their voice, and Jasper by general body language.

-Henry is probably the best cook out of the 3 of them. None of them are particularly bad at cooking per say, but Henry is the best at it. He tries to play it off at times and suggest that they get take-out on his nights to make dinner, but that's almost always a no from Charlotte and Jasper unless he's exhausted. Also the take-out in dystopia is terrible, even by shitty take-out standards. Like you do not get take-out in dystopia unless you *have* to.

Henry's weak link? Grilling/Barbeque. The guy won't turn hamburgers into hockey pucks, but he hates working a grill, and the grill hates him back. But that's fine, as Charlotte was taught by the Lord of Barbeque, her uncle Rosco. And in terms of baking, Henry and Charlotte love Jasper's baking too much to try and replicate it. It works out well for them in the kitchen.

-Henry and Charlotte were in competition for best driver sophomore year. It started as a joke of who would chauffer and who would pay for gas. But then they were in the same car for driver's ed and shit got intense. They would point out if the other was one mile over the speed limit, roasting the other's parking, grilling each other on the exact meaning of signs.

They got their driver's test scores and it turns out Jasper is the best/safest driver. Henry and Charlotte tied at the decent score of 79, but Jasper got a 96. He jokes its his way of recovering after experiencing Piper drive in the graveyard, which she scoffed at. So Jasper is the chauffer while Henry and Charlotte pay for his gas.

-honestly it's a good rule of thumb that if two of them are competing, the other person will win. Jasper and Henry racing to the swellview pool in the summer? Charlotte's already there. Jasper and Charlotte at each other's throats over who gets the last slice of pie? They turn around and Henry's watching them while eating the piece in question. Henry and Charlotte are spending all day trying to beat a high score in a video game? Jasper takes a turn and his score is undefeated for a week.

When schwoz first pointed it out, it was kind of a point of contention. the 2 competing would glare at the 3rd person before snapping back to glaring at the other. But after the driver's license competition, it just became funny. Charlotte and Henry saw Jasper asking Piper and Ray their scores, laughing his ass off as grumbled about just barely passing his drivers test. And joined in laughing as Piper growled at him, but not quite ruing the fact the dmv fucked up about her license.

[productivityera]

New plan for productivity

The great thing about doing 100 days of productivity, or similar challenges is that you can go through them when you're done and find what worked/didn't work.

I've been super unmotivated lately - exams are coming up and I have a few life things I need to do. How about a productivity challenge 2.0?

Lasts year's challenge was crazy - I had so many commitments, so little time, and above all, I was stressed out sooo much. To say the least, it was an overcommitment. At the end of the day, how did I get through it?

Special Consideration !!

This was a lifesaver for me. On my last exam, I had to deal with so many things, plus our new house didn't have any wifi. We live in a regional area, meaning there were no 24/7 cafes and no libraries open to study. It also felt like a cop-out - which it shouldn't have. I was going through a crazy time - and studying for an exam wasn't exactly something that had to be done immediately.

So ... I am going to be doing a new productivity blog - but this time it's going to be on my terms. I will set realistic goals, I will make sure I have time for my social life, exercise and relaxation, and I will be concentrating on making healthy habits.

So, realistic goals mean that they follow the SMART format:

S - Specific (I have a clear goal) eg. I will complete questions 2-7 on a worksheet.

M- Measurable. (Time or goal oriented) eg. I will study for maths for one hour, I will finish one paragraph

A - Attainable (Goals I know I can acheive) eg. I cannot say "I will finish this essay in one day", instead. "I will dedicate 6 hours to this essay today"

R - Relevent (Relevence to my study) eg. highlighting text isn't exactly a great use of my time, given I don't even do readings

T - Time-based (Set a deadline) eg. By 5pm I will have completed a practice quiz

If I find that I a goal doesn't follow the SMART format, or the goal simply isn't doable in a set time frame, or that I will be studying for an exhorbenent amount of time to acheive my goals, I decide that I need help. This help may mean applying for special consideration on any assignments - it may mean asking members of my family to do certain household tasks if I dont have time to do them. It may also mean lowering my expections for myself.

A question I also ask myself is: "How do I stay motivated when I'm not stressed tf out?"

I am quite good at completing tasks that make me very stressed. When I have an assignment due, the only way I feel like I can study is by studying an hour beforehand or submitting an essay with a minute to spare.

It is week 9 of the semester right now - I have 3 weeks left of coursework, and plenty of time to start studying for my exams. So, time to start making a productivity blog and testing out certain methods and habits.

My health, including mental health is also important. So:

Exercise at least once a day. Even if this is 30 minute walk.

When studying, concentrate on eating nourishing foods. Fruit, nuts, not skipping meals, not snacking on junk foods if I feel peckish.

No coffee after 5pm. I know this time seems quite late, but due to my caffeine addiction, it'll get me a better night's sleep.

Plan out my day beforehand - if I don't have dog walks, plan out some other kind of exercise - how much I'm going to study etc. Block out my day using google calender - set tasks and complete them.

Plan social events with friends. Brunch's, shopping trips, study together's nights out etc. Something to look forward to.

Good luck on whatever productivity journey that you are on!

[movedto-mrs-bluemarine]

BARNABY FIC!!!! I've been in such a slump lately, I'm just so happy to finally WRITE something. It's not even 1k, so I don't feel like I should use my tag list

This was kind of inspired by @amalthea-wolfwood 's super cute BunnyWolf pic it made me for my birthday!!

I don't have a cute title :(

It was one of those wonderful blue moon chances, were the restless city of Stern Bild had finally settled down and didn’t need the attention of any heros for the night. Or at least, it didn’t need the attention of everyone’s favorite Barnaby Brooks Jr. His attention was saved for one lucky someone.

Artemis was pinned between Barnaby’s fancy couch and the blond himself. His arms had themselves snaked around her midsection, his face smothered by her lap, with Artemis’ hand tangled in his hair. It was late, just about the only time of the day that he got to himself, no work, no stressing out. Not if Artemis had anything to do with it.

While he relaxed, she got into some light reading, trying to awkwardly hold a newspaper with only one hand while her other continued scratching at Barnaby's scalp.

The tabloids were outrageous these days. It’s always drama and misinformation. Luckily, she drank it all in, itching for the latest gossip.

“Oh, can you believe this, Barnaby?!”

Her hand left his hair to grip at the paper tighter. Artemis squinted at the text before her eyes, despite it and the photo accompanying the words taking up nearly half the damn page.

“Listen; ‘Fallen Star taking revenge on the new King of Heros? Barnaby Brooks’ very own girlfriend was seen out on the town with Sky High, leaving Barnaby out to dry! Is there trouble in paradise? Or has this damsel in distress decided that one hero to sweep her off her feet wasn't enough?’

“What a load of crap! No one believes this junk, right?” She giggled, rolling her eyes at the “news” piece. The photo they used wasn't even a good one!

Barnaby had nothing to say in turn, only a soft, grumpy groan after she finished.

Artemis pushed the newspaper to the side, “Hey, what's up? Wanna get up already?”

Again without saying another word, Barnaby grumbled, his noises getting muffled by Artemis' plush thighs. She frowned, “Bunny, I can't help ya’ if all you're gonna do is mumble.”

His hand lifted, palm open, fingers twitching. Wanting something.

Confused, Artemis offered the tabloid, “Newspaper?”

Immediately Barnaby slapped it out of her hand without so much as a lifted glance, papers scattering everywhere. Before she could complain her wrist was grabbed then immediately set back in Barnaby's hair, the blond huffing before his arm went back to its original place.

Her frown twisted into a smirk as her hand began to move once again. “Really? That's what you wanted?”

She didn't get more than a satisfied hum out of the grown man in her lap. She chuckled and teased him softly, “Jeez, aren't you needy tonight? I wasn't done reading that.”

Barnaby's face lifted from her thighs, smooshing his cheek against her stomach instead. “Pay more attention to me, instead. Those stories are just going to rot your brain.”

“Whatever.”

She didn't want to admit that… this was kind of nice. He was acting clingier than usual; most likely due to work lately keeping them from having any alone time. Like hell she was going to mention anything, though. She had to take the opportunity while she had it! His hair was so soft… he probably used better products than she did. And he was wearing that shirt that shows off his fantastically defined biceps-

“What were you doing out with Sky High, anyway?”

“Eh? You and Kotetsu were out fighting, he was still feeling pretty down, so I stayed back to work out with him. After we were done he decided to walk me home because, ‘Not a single hair will be out of place with Sky High around!’” Artemis was quite proud of that Keith impression.

Barnaby opened a single eye, “Nothing else?”

That smirk from before came back to her face. “You getting jealous on me, Bunny? Because there's nothing to worry about, silly. I love the guy, really, but he's too big of a meathead for me to fall for him.” The answer was immediate, and confident.

“Nothing to be jealous of. I know I'm better than that lug.” She could practically feel his smirk against her stomach.

“Oh, and much prettier, too.” Artemis added on with another roll of the eyes. Her other hand moved to his scalp, the added pressure and the extra nails getting Barnaby to let out a pleased groan. “So handsome, so smart, so strong…”

“Damn right.”

Artemis giggled. She brushed his bangs back, allowing her to kiss his crown where his hairline stopped. Barnaby hummed, “You're the luckiest girl in the city.”

The blonde finally allowed herself to settle back against the couch. Her hands kept playing with his hair as he continued to rest in her lap. Her deep blue eyes watched the ceiling above as a sudden wave of realization hit her. “Yeah. Ain't that the damn truth.”

[exeggcute]

hello! you seem to know a lot about skincare stuff, so i'm curious what products you use for general daily use? i also have adult acne and it's very annoying. i would also appreciate any lip moisturizing ideas if you have any. thank you, and hope your day's going well!

oh yes! although fair warning that I am not a skincare expert at all (I don't even understand half the lingo that people use when they talk about products lol) so take any of my recommendations with a grain of salt...

other than sunscreen, literally all of the stuff I use is either from paula's choice, the ordinary, or good old cerave. I don't even bother trying other brands at this point because I assume they'll just be overpriced junk—plus, you can get almost all cerave products and a good chunk of the ordinary's products at, like, target. I'd also note that you don't need to (and really should not) go out and buy a million things at once; I have a pretty good arsenal at this point but it took me a couple years to build it up by trying one or two new products at a time and seeing what I like.

both paula's choice and the ordinary have "shop by concern" sections on their websites, so if you want actual targeted advice about what to try then I would definitely defer to them lol. but for some specific examples of what I like:

diehard fan of cerave face soaps. they have a foaming pump and a non-foaming pump, depending on whether your skin is more oily or more dry. I mostly use the latter, but since noelle uses the former I'll occasionally steal a pump of the foamy one if I'm having an oily streak lol.

likewise with cerave moisturizer, specifically for your body, but also works great on your face as a final skincare step. will not make you break out. however (important info incoming!!!) the pump lotion is far inferior to the giant tub of lotion—the pump stuff is just kind of watery and sad in comparison. get the tub. you deserve it.

the ordinary hyaluronic acid 2% serum is another "help I have dry skin but also acne" lifesaver. you can apply it directly to (damp!!!) skin or (wet!!!) hair or put a couple drops in your lotion for extra-moisturizing lotion. but it works by drawing outside moisture into your skin/hair, so make sure you're not applying it to dry skin/hair or it can backfire and actually dry you out.

paula's choice enriched calming toner = dry skin savior.

for acne specifically, paula's choice pore-reducing toner fucking rules. it's not harsh at all so you can use it as much as you want. pairs well with paula's 5% AHA exfoliant (which only use when I'm really flaky, since it is a little harsh, but you can temper it by applying lotion right after).

the ordinary azelaic acid 10% suspension is a little tingly, so I only use it when I'm actively breaking out (which tbf is often lol), but it's a great at starving out pimples.

from the paula's choice CLEAR line, I looooove the purifying clay mask. I use this one a couple times a week as needed, usually right after I get out of the shower, and then I'll wash it off and do the rest of my face potions as usual. even if my skin is pretty clear I just like how tight and clean everything feels after. I also recently tried the CLEAR 5% benzoyl peroxide daily skin clearing treatment (only because I got it as a free gift... otherwise I would Not have tried a benzoyl peroxide product lmao. bad memories of childhood acne treatment snake oil shit.) and was surprised how much I liked it, although I've been applying it verrry sparingly. the bottle recommends applying it (1) to your entire face and (2) EVERY DAY, but I've had luck using it as a sporadic spot treatment. pairs well with the enriched calming toner.

I've also been using this prescription tretinoin cream off and on for the past year (from the dubious skincare-as-a-service online pharmacy "forhers" lol) and it's Good but not a miracle. my skin is already pretty sensitive so I try not to use it that often, but it would probably work a lot better if it did. also makes you photosensitive as hell so watch out (sunscreen is a must).

specifically for lip moisturizer, nothing beats plain old burt's bees lip balm imo but if you need something heavy-duty I do like the paula's choice lip and body treatment balm. it's a little greasy but has great staying power and the tub lasts forever!

also important to note. you should always do stuff in this order: wash your face (duh) > toner > other stuff > lotion/moisturizer. I know you're supposed to do the "other stuff" in a specific order if you're stacking multiple products but tbh I just kind of wing it lol.

[miminiac]

Oikawa sits on Iwaizumi's bed, watching his phone buzz and light up with the hundreds of messages Suga and Akaashi were sending him even though it was 5AM in Japan (meaning the pair woke up early or never went to bed – Oikawa suspected the latter).

Suga: B*tch, if you don't confess to Iwaizumi in the next day, we are telling him ourselves

Akaashi: You better f*cking confess or I'm throwing out your f*ck sh*t hair products

Suga: We spent a lot of money getting you to California, we expect for it to be worth it.

Oikawa rolls his eyes. He debates replying, re-informing them that it had actually been Akaashi's parents who had bought the ticket since they had used Akaashi's emergency credit card. But, that would only fuel the pair into harassing him even more, so he tucks his in his bag.

Iwaizumi returns to the room, carrying various snacks and a couple bottles of water in his arms. After dumping everything onto the opposite end of the bed from where Oikawa was sitting, Iwaizumi quickly glances at his own phone before placing it on the dresser behind him.

"Your friends are a little annoying."

"They are your friends too, Iwa-chan~"

"They are only my friends because they are your friends. An unfortunate circumstance of the transitive property."

Iwaizumi plops down onto his bed and opens a bag of chips. In the silence, they hear the faint buzz of both their phones going off. Oikawa attempts to shake off the curiosity of what his friends might be texting Iwaizumi by scolding him.

"What a terrible host you are, Iwa-chan~. Not even offering me some chips when you opened the bag."

"Okay, but you don't even like these chips."

"It's a matter of principle," Oikawa teases, turning his body to face his friend.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and holds out the bag of chips. "Would you like some chips?"

"No thank you, I don't like them, but I will take that cookie."

Oikawa points to a wrapped chocolate chip cookie in the pile of junk food on Iwaizumi's bed.

"You're an adult, grab it yourself."

Oikawa pouts, crossing him arms and staring at Iwaizumi, who still refuses to budge. Faint buzzing fills the silence once more.

"Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi hums, signaling Oikawa to continue. "Do you remember last year when you visited Tokyo?"

Iwaizumi doesn't say anything, but Oikawa can tell he remembers and knows exactly what he is talking about – the kiss they had shared in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

"How would you feel about doing that more often?" Oikawa asks, staring at the pattern in Iwaizumi's comforter.

He hears the rustle of the chip bag and feels Iwaizumi's weight shift on the bed. Before Oikawa can recognize what is happening, Iwaizumi's hand gently grips his chin.

He tugs Oikawa's head up, pulling him in so their lips meet. The kiss is soft, chaste. It reminds Oikawa of finally releasing a long held breath. When they pull apart, they stay close – foreheads touching.

"Just to be clear, I like you and that is why I want to kiss more."

Iwaizumi chuckles, "Yeah, I understood that dumbass." A pause, Oikawa waiting for a returned confession, a pout slowly forming on his lips. "I like you too, Shittykawa."

Oikawa leans forward, kissing Iwaizumi fervently. They continue exchanging kisses for the next hour until they tire and Oikawa settles his head onto Iwaizumi's chest as they cuddle – Iwaizumi's fingers absently playing his with hair. The calm is broken once again by Iwaizumi's phone buzzing on the dresser.

"Do you think you can tell your friends now so they can stop harassing me?"

"Absolutely not," Oikawa says. "They will not be informed until at least a month from now. I need to make them suffer for meddling... Plus, I can't allow them to know they were right – at least not right away."

Iwaizumi sighs. He knows there is no logic when it comes to the trio.

// originally posted October 27th, 2020

Read the full story in the setter fic.

[arqueete]

I saw Spring Awakening at a local college and this one was really *chef's kiss* for someone who has seen Spring Awakening live too many times. Lots of interesting little choices and details to appreciate.

The individual performances were mostly just alright (with a few standouts) but I find that that isn't actually that important to me when I see Spring Awakening. As long as the singing is in tune, the acting is earnest and enthusiastic, and the direction feels true to the themes of the show--and I felt like this cast and crew was solid on all those points--it doesn't really bother me if it feels "amateur." (I mean, it is amateur after all and amateur theater is still fun.)

It's clear that they took bits inspiration from the original production of Spring Awakening on Broadway and the Deaf West revival (not including deaf characters and sign language--BUT I do think there may have been some sign language incorporated in the choreography of The Guilty Ones? A nice touch, if so.) There are things I love about both versions so I really enjoyed that.

The choreography for Bitch of Living was really fun. The boys all had notebooks they were writing in in the classroom scene, and then during the song they would hold up the notebooks each with a letter written on them to spell out words alongside the lyrics, like B-I-T-C-H obviously, but also I-T-C-H in Moritz's verse, or T-H-I-C in Ernst's verse, or B-U-T-T in Hanschen's, or T-I-T-S in Georg's. They also only had one handheld microphone--the one Melchior was using in All That's Known, which he pulls out and hands to Moritz, and then gets passed around to each boy. I loved this visual of this gift of angsty music being passed around.

Similarly! In My Junk, as the girls sang their solos, Melchior came out and would hold up the microphone for each, also giving them an opportunity to make flirtatious poses with him. In the latter part of the song, there was a lot of this between Melchior and Wendla. Even though in reality they don't really interact until later, I thought this was a nice connection being drawn between them for the audience.

When Wendla said that her mama said she can't go to the wedding, Anna dramatically collapsed on the ground like Wendla, you're killing me.

There was also a great bit where Fraulein Grossenbustenhalter drops a handkerchief and bends over to pick it up.

When Melchior says his, "But when you lie here..." line, it's with this mischievous sort of grin like, come oooon Wendla, I know you're not really going to go! And she smiles back as she agrees to stay. It was interesting to see their interactions done more playfully than I'm used to.

I absolutely loved this The Dark I Know Well. They really had Martha and Ilse moving around, using the microphone stand, and it felt much more like a rock number a la And Then There Were None, and I was like... hell yeah. The girls really don't tend to get moments like that in the show typically and why shouldn't they?

As the song built up in the end they had the other female characters and ensemble step out to gather behind Martha and Ilse--as well as the Adult Women. It got me thinking about the adult women in this show and their experiences with sex in that time period, even just within a typical marriage, and how that affects what they are willing or able to share with their children.

The Mirror-Blue Night featured the backdrop lit up blue but Melchior holding a yellow lantern and the boys having small yellow flashlights (I think drawing from the lit up fingers in the Deaf West version of this song), and then the hayloft was lit in this warm light as well. I thought this looked fantastic and really made the hayloft feel like this warm refuge in the mirror-blue night.

Left Behind had several interesting things going on, like the most literal representation I've ever seen of the gravesite (as a pile of dirt.) Melchior looked at Moritz's father intensely and Hanschen reached out and put a hand on his shoulder like a subtle restraint--which I do think makes sense for Hanschen's don't-rock-the-boat character.

At the end of the scene it was just Melchior and Ilse... and Moritz, who Melchior stared at until Ilse gently took his arm and lead him away. I'm not a fan of productions doing things like this. I think it's a bit too soon for us to see some representation of Moritz again--not like when we see him in Those You've Known.

It's been literally over a decade since the show added Melchior into Whispering and still every time I'm like what is happening???

When Ilse came out at the end, as she neared the end of her introduction, she reached down and grabbed a flower on a grave and held it up like she was considering how it would look in her hair. I thought this was a nice bit of whimsy leading into the rest of the cast coming out and greeting each other warmly with side-hugs and grabbing hands and spinning around and it was so... sweet and joyful. I hadn't felt emotional up until that point but I got teary-eyed then.

I had a great time. It's been several years since I saw the show live last and this reminded me of why I like it so much.

[horce-divorce]

Top Surgery June 2023 Recovery Fund & Countdown!!!!

⭐ ☀️ 🌻 ✨

🗡️ 33 DAYS REMAIN 🗡️

. email | ko-fi | photos | insta .

*im going to try to keep this post updated; see below for a shorter one you can reblog!*

insurance will cover my procedure, but I have to travel for surgery as well as for my follow up/postop appts, I have existing health conditions that require extra care/supplies, and I need button up shirts etc, and all that along with my usual living expenses in the meantime!!

my disability application is 90% processed and I am anticipating a denial any day now. i may choose not to appeal it, but until that happens, I cant look for a job anyway; basically what I have available to me is art sales, a bit of freelancing, and begging for donations. this post is about that :)

.・。.・゜✭・. Ways You Can Help!!!! .・✫・゜・。.

Buy something from my Ko-Fi Shop! I currently have 5 pairs of needle minders available as well as slots for customs! I may also list some stitch markers and earrings soon! I also occasionally sell the beloved Fuck Off keychains via Glitter & Gleam Co. I'm working on a Pride flag series for June, so stay tuned & do feel free to drop a flag request you'd like to see!!! :) I may also be open to making customs of the FO keychains just bc they are fun.

Buy me a coffee or leave a tip just bc you like me! Ko-Fi also gives me this option, so if you're sympathetic to my cause but you don't need OOAK trinkets and craft supplies, feel free to donate! (Venmo and Paypal are also idleseas!)

Hire me for transcription/captioning! I've got 8 years of experience doing every subject from medical to legal to corporate to podcasts to video captions & subs, and I type verbatim at 130wpm. $1.50 per audio min, usually 24hr or less turnaround. Shoot me an email if interested!

Hire me as a photographer! This one's a long shot, but if you're in Michigan and you need an LGBT-friendly photographer for any reason, I'm your huckleberry! I'm on the west coast, but Im willing to travel a bit within reason, since, it's Michigan. (Seriously, you name it, I'm down: events, drag shows, live music/album art, pets/animals, senior pics, engagement/wedding, products, boudoir, real estate- I've even done remembrance/stillborn photos and retouching.)

Buy photo prints or other junk from Redbubble! Working on this one! Note to self!

Buy me something off my Amazon WL! I am considering sharing this but seeing as I live in a very small, remote, rural town and have a very distinct deadname so maybe pm me about this if we're mutuals? feedback welcome if you have another idea or reassurance abt this lol

Follow my photo blog or Insta accounts! If you can't send any money, hey, I get it. in this economy? yikes. the good news is, I also benefit vastly from moral support! I post a lot of my landscape photos right here on tumblr at @idleseas (not to toot my own horn or anything but. im good) rattiebastard @ IG is my personal insta where I post my art & creations, sales, life updates, and goofy stuff like memes. idle_seas @ IG is my photo account, mostly nature photography and info about the Great Lakes.

Boost my current donation or sales post! Currently it's this one! Reblogs are free and always greatly appreciated :) I LOOK like an account with a lot of followers but trust me, in reality, my blog is just super old.

Good old fashioned kind messages of support also do wonders! anon is currently (ON), so remember Thumper's golden rule: if you can't say something nice, then shut the hell up and don't make me regret this! :)

[fandom-trash-xl]

EPISODE 5: PANZY

Haven't been feeling well this week, so I'm glad I could top it off with some Dragon Ball

Time to get formally introduced to Panzy! Our scrappy little tech-savvy tomboy to round out Team A until Team B comes along. I definitely see them trying to fit her in as a Bulma parallel (or even a foil or rival) if the opening animation is any indication.

Training is an absolutely foreign concept to Panzy when Goku brings it up- does that mean certain characters are particularly gifted with their levels and there's nothing they can do to change? Or is it that they simply haven't tried? Apparently, Goku being able to fly is also a shock- I guess Glorio's a special case.

The Demon-Folk don't have ki, but instead have specialty spells- Panzy has levitation, albeit not at a good level. Perhaps something she's not willing to show off. If that's the case, Glorio being able to fly might be one of the spells in his arsenal.

And the quirks of demon aging- they apparently have an average of a thousand years of lifespan under their belts and Panzy is still child-sized at 82! Are they late bloomers or is there a different measurement of time in the demon realm? What does that mean for the Namekians? I'm still confused as to what's the maturity age for a Namekian when classed under Shenron's youth wish.

And speaking of Namekians- Baby Dende!!! Gomah and crew are raising him as their own and they're... oddly doting and wholesome with him. Guess it's to make sure he's on their side when he grows up. They're waiting patiently for him to grow up enough that he can create new Dragon Balls for them. You're going to have a lot of waiting to do... Unless my theory of different time measurements is correct. Maybe that's why they were funneling out lifespans- can they feed that into Dende to make him grow up faster?

We've made it to King Kadan's castle and- surprise- Panzy's apparently the princess! The King is said to be an unjust mafia man, but Panzy still things someone's out to give him a bad name. ...And the King promptly tries to marry off Panzy (once she's even older than 82) to Goku before he mentions he's already married.

We got our first little blink at Super Saiyan!

They're loaned a spare plane, so it's time to begin the Dragon Ball Hunt! Panzy's tagging along whether you like it or not!

Also HYBIS- Silly little guy. The iconic Toriyama-style gag character. Apparently he's going to fetch Team B to avoid the pin code snafu, but I sense some other wacky shenanigans will get in their way.

Shin is growing more suspicious of Glorio. Clearly he has something to hide and I'm all for seeing what it might be. Hoping they hide it if the Dragon Ball Legends appearance drops first.

Unfortunately, Panzy packed too much useless junk and the engine shorts out! Looks like it's time for a crash landing!

Putting this note at the end because I write these very stream of consciousness- the concept of collars. They mention them as a form of tracking or ID after Goku flees from the Gendarmerie. Took me a second glossthrough to notice the little red collars on everyone. Except, notably, Panzy (although we haven't seen past her scarf) and GLORIO (although we don't know if this is Demon World specific). Interesting...

Onto the preview: Shin seems disgusted at the thought of canned food products, Glorio and Goku have what I'm assuming is a spar (we can't have the betrayal this early), and we meet the Minotaur from the opening!

EPISODES WITHOUT KNOWING HANVI'S WHEREABOUTS: 5

...Yeah, they're totally baiting us. Maybe we'll get a hint when we tune back in with the B Team.