#gotta take that one particular character and put them on a high shelf where i cant reach because i KEEP KILLING THAT ONE CHARACTER

[avocado-frog]

Trying to keep myself from adding in plot points for no reason because they would drastically change the story and having to convince myself to not do it is like going to a grocery store with a six year old who wants to buy toys that they're never going to play with

[pretty-well-funded]

rented omega pt 2

continued from part 1

Tony wakes up the next morning to his cock being mounted and ridden like a coin-operated pony.

It’s...well, it’s not a first, but honestly it’s not something that’s happened in a long time.  It takes him a minute of staring up at the very young face on the mountee - a face he hadn’t inspected with any kind of detail the night before - to understand what’s going on.

The kid must misinterpret his blank look for outrage or something, because without slowing down, he says, “I’m sorry to wake you up, sir, I just...I just needed...”

“No, it’s fine, help yourself.”  

The kid’s face goes on an interesting emotional journey at that (admittedly a bizarre thing to say, but he hasn’t had coffee yet, alright?), but chooses not to comment.

The position does make Tony wonder though... “Aren’t we, um. Supposed to use gravity or whatever to help with the...”

“When we can, but it’s not required every time,” the kid informs him.  For all the omega-in-heat jokes, he’s remarkably collected.  Maybe last night is just what happens when they’re neglected - not like Tony’s met an omega before, much less one that’s in heat.  “It’s more important to inseminate me frequently than to use any particular position.  The benches are just to make up for the fact that we can’t knot.”

“Ah,” Tony says eloquently, “that makes sense.”

*

“Right, so I’m probably going to regret asking this,” Tony says once he’s got caffeine in his veins, “but how old are you?”

The kid’s face - Peter, his name is Peter - does something complicated.  “They didn’t give you my file?”

“Technically I think that they did, I just never, you know.  Read it.”

Peter looks as baffled by that as he had by Tony’s offer of caffeine, which he is apparently verboten.  

“Look, in all honesty, this was never my idea.  I don’t want kids and I never intended to rent a person, but my board has me by the balls, so here we are.”

There’s a degree of alarm and reluctance now, on Peter’s face.

“NOT that any of that is your problem.  I was being a selfish jackass last night - I won’t neglect your well-being again.  Or, not on purpose.  And if I do on accident, just sick JARVIS on me.”

The kid - and he’s definitely a kid - cocks his head, which only enhances his resemblance to a cocker spaniel.  “Jarvis?”

“You didn’t introduce yourself?” Tony directs to the ceiling.  It’s a pointless but helpful gesture for people experiencing J for the first time.

“Mr. Parker was out of sorts when he got here, Sir, I held off on introductions to prevent undue distress.”

Tony winces at the pointed use of the term, but ignores it.  “So that’s J, or JARVIS - if you need anything, he can help.  Hell, if there’s anything you just want to know.  He’s hooked into all the electronic functions in the entire building, as well as Stark Industries’ databases and the internet at large, so he’s pretty handy.”

Peter’s eyes are huge and excited.  “He’s an AI?”

Tony debates the company line for two seconds before shrugging and admitting, “Pretty much, yeah.  Just don’t tell anyone.”

He winks, and Peter - adorably, hilariously - blushes.  They had a Q&A earlier with Tony’s dick up his ass, and he didn’t look this out of sorts.

“Anyway, he’s used to running herd on me, so if I forget something you need, or forget that you...you know, exist, just tattle and he’ll sort it out.”

“Okay, thank you.  And JARVIS?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“You can call me Peter.”

“I’ll adjust my protocols.”

*

Tony forgets all about the kid’s age until later when he kills some data compilation time with a skim of the kid’s file.

He’s fifteen, but like. Barely.  Which. Makes sense.  The board was all set on the freshest eggs. It’s not like contracted omegas sit on the shelf long after they hit the minimum age.

No wonder he looks so fucking young. Because he is.

“Sir, Peter is requesting you return to the penthouse at your earliest convenience.”

Duty calls.

*

Stud service is about as arousing as Tony always assumed it would be.  He gets off - obviously, that’s the point - but it’s weirdly detached. Purpose-driven.  Tony is mostly spurred on by Peter’s pheromones, and Peter by what seems to be a disturbing level of training.  He’d rather not think about that.  

The point is, neither of them are mad with lust, exactly.

Tony does all the work this time, for fairness’s sake, has a relatively frustrated orgasm (his body finds the lack of knotting to be very off-putting, apparently), and then Peter puts his legs in the air for good luck.

Tony excuses himself, and has JARVIS order takeout.  Apparently his file - which Tony still hasn’t read - includes dietary restrictions and preferences.  Which, of course it does, the kid’s gotta eat. 

He’s about to make a break for it with his portion of the food when Peter finally wanders out, looking rumpled and flushed and more interesting to Tony than anyone should after he’s been there and done them.

“Where are you going?” Peter asks, sounding disappointed.  Immediately, his eyes widen and he backtracks.  “I’m sorry, sir, you don’t have to...thank you for...is this larb?  I love larb!”

“Yeah, JARVIS said.”

There’s a pointed lack of reply from the AI himself, and Tony sighs, putting his food back down and resigning himself to dinner with the kid.  Peter’s only reaction is a blush.

They eat in silence, at first, Tony staunchly ignoring the kid’s side-eye.  Eventually the kid starts, tentative, “Mr. Stark, can I ask...how old is JARVIS?”

Tony pauses, doing the math - JARVIS is like his left hand, always there, essential. He hasn’t thought of a time *before* JARVIS in so long.  

When he pinpoints the year of his programming and subtracts, Tony barks a laugh.  “Older than you, apparently.”

“Oh, wow, really?” Tony’s half-expecting some crack on his own age, but Peter looks earnestly impressed and excited.  “But other companies only achieved domain-specific expertise in like, 2014. If he’s that old... In the late 90s, IBM had just created Deep Blue.  Did JARVIS start as a rules-based system, with later upgrades, or - ”

Tony stares at Peter while he babbles away.  “How much do you know about AI?”

Peter’s cheeks pink, eyes falling abruptly back to his food.  “I mean, not as much as you, but - “

“Do they - is that...allowed?”

A little frown appears between Peter’s eyebrows.  “What, because reading books would make us less fertile?”

Tony blinks at the tone, and then JARVIS, bless him, chimes in, “Sir, no law prohibits the education of omegas, though most finishing schools don’t focus on advanced academics.  There is, however, a demand for omegas with a high IQ for individuals like yourself, whose offspring are expected to excel.  In fact, Peter’s intelligence was one of many factors that lead the Board to choose him.”

Peter looks flustered and embarrassed.  “I’m an asshole, kid, I’m sorry.  I don’t know much about...” He waves his hand vaguely.

“The treatment of one-third of the total population?” Peter snarks.

Tony feels a little smile start to form on his face.  You don’t like people who pull punches, sir.  “Yeah.  I’m kind of a dick.  So you learned about AI in school?”

“No, like JARVIS said, they don’t officially invest resources in that stuff.  But the school’s firewall only blocked omega’s rights and stuff, and we could get just about anything delivered from the library, so...”

“So you learned it yourself.”

Peter shrugs.  “As best I could, yeah.”

“To answer your question, I have some older ‘bots equipped with rules-based intelligence - they’re still in the lab, actually, you can meet them.  But JARVIS started out closer to AlphaGo than Deep Blue.  He was supposed to just be a natural-language user interface, but I overshot the mark a bit.”

By the incredulity on Peter’s face, he understands exactly what an understatement that is.

“But yeah, he’s had a lot of upgrades over the years.  The biggest limiter was hardware, really, computing power.  He’s the whole reason SI was miles ahead in computing technology.  Every time I wanted him to be smarter, I had to invent the damn tech myself.”

“That’s so cool.  I was talking to him all day.  When did he develop theory of mind?”

Before Tony can answer, J chimes in, “Oh, I believe it was the Great Vodka Binge of 2001, wasn’t it, sir?”

Tony laughs.  Peter is grinning.

“So he really is self-aware, right?”

“Oh yeah, true AGI.”

“Why isn’t...why doesn’t anybody know about him?”

“J is...”  Tony licks his bottom lip, a nervous tick, and only realizes that he’s done it when Peter’s eyes flick down for a moment.  “J is special. And frankly, dangerous.  Very few people know the full extent of his abilities.  I’ve created other AI that are more limited in capacity, but once you get them to a certain point, the only way to keep them limited is to deny them opportunities to learn.  And that always seems...”

“Sad,” Peter says.

Tony smiles, warmed by Peter’s comprehension.  “I was going to say barbaric, but yeah.  Sad works, too.”

A lot like keeping this boy locked away from the world just because he can get pregnant.  Tony doesn’t say that, but it sits there between them anyway, just like the larb.

*

lol, idk shit about AI, but hopefully I bluffed well enough.  the suckiest thing about writing smart characters whose expertise is wayyyy beyond yours is trying to keep them sounding smart without like...getting yourself a degree in engineering.

anyway, obviously this one is a lot less perverted than romantic.  variety is the spice of life, right?

Part 3

[jmsebastian]

Great Adaptation Expectations - Sword of the Berserk: Guts' Rage

Some things just demand to be adapted into video games, and Kentaro Miura’s dark fantasy manga series Berserk stands pretty much atop that list. Released in 1999 and developed by Yuke’s in cooperation with Miura, Sword of the Berserk: Guts’ Rage is a third-person action game for the Sega Dreamcast that attempted to scratch that initial gamification itch, and ride the success following the first anime adaptation of the series, which premiered two years prior.

Before discussing the details, it’s important to note that Sword of the Berserk suffers the same fate that so many licensed games do. It isn’t very good. Some of that comes down to the era in which it was made. There are a few frustrations that plague it that are typical of an era in which 3D action games were relatively new. That isn’t to say there aren’t things to enjoy about the game. If nothing else, it did help solidify why the approach to how action games played needed to be adjusted. Unfortunately, that means Sword of the Berserk itself, is something of a missed opportunity. On the plus side, it’s not a very long game, so its shortcomings don’t have enough time to grossly overstay their welcome, and any suffering along the way is mercifully brief.

The first obvious issue is the lack of camera control. Going back to play any 3rd person action game without a controllable camera can feel extremely limiting. It’s become such a staple that it feels more unnatural not to have it than it probably did to have it when it was first introduced. Of course, there are certainly examples of very good games that lack it. You can’t control the camera in Onimusha or Devil May Cry, but you don’t tend to notice that limitation as much since the camera is placed in thought ways that reveal the relevant visual information to the player.

Sword of the Berserk’s camera lacks that thoughtfulness. It tries to be dynamic, moving along with your character, but the concern seems to be more on framing Guts in a particular way rather than assisting the player. Given that this is an adaptation of a beautifully drawn manga series, it’s hard to fault the developers for trying to capture some of that magic in their game (which they largely accomplish in the cutscenes), however, it ends up compromising its playability to a fairly extreme degree at times.

You also have the issue of moving toward the camera a lot, meaning you’ll often find yourself running headfirst into danger you can’t see until it’s too late. There’s even an escape sequence near the end of the game reminiscent of Sonic Adventure 2’s opening sequence. You have to run around and jump over obstacles with little warning before you’re right up against them. Without rings to help you cling to life, this is extremely frustrating. One mistake means you die, and in a game with limited checkpoints and continues, it can quickly become the hardest and most frustrating part of the entire experience.

Rollin' around at the speed of sound/Got places to go, gotta follow my rainbow/Can't stick around, have to keep movin' on/Guess what lies ahead, only one way to find out!

Another part of what makes the camera so difficult is that it doesn’t have a lot of room to maneuver, even if the developers might have wanted to. You spend most of your time inside a castle, fighting through narrow corridors and cramped courtyards. In those confined spaces, the camera can’t really move wherever it wants because chances are, level geometry would get in the way. There are few examples of where this does actually happen, such as when you travel below the castle’s cemetery, and an obelisk sitting in the middle of the room complete obscures any figures that move behind it.

Aside from restricting the camera, the level design has the consequence of hampering what the game’s mechanics are centered around entirely, the combat. The whole point of a Berserk game is to play as Guts and swing the laughably huge Dragon Slayer sword around. There are several levels in this game where that is literally impossible. One level in particular, where you run through the castle town has several passageways where you’ll clank your sword against stone trying to land a hit on guards that hinder your progress. The developers seemed to realize this would be a problem, so they put in the option to sheath the Dragon Slayer and fight with your fists. I can say that this is not the most adequate solution. Even playing on the easy difficulty, punching guards out is a dubious proposition. Your damage output is drastically reduced and since the guards can snipe you with arrows from some distance with crossbows, you may well die before even getting the chance.

Let me just, uh, erm, hmm.

On some level, you have to respect the commitment to realism, as you obviously could not swing a sword the size of the Dragon Slayer in most places that human being typically occupy. However, the ability to swing said hunk of iron in the first place is fantastical, and thus, I think it would have been more than a fair compromise to let the sword simply clip through level geometry in an effort to make the combat more fluid and satisfying. Thankfully, the boss fights, which are the main draw of the game’s combat, are usually placed in much more open areas to avoid this issue.

Ultimately, I get the feeling that the game’s design took something of a back seat to the story that Kentaro Miura wanted to tell, and as such, there’s relatively little actual game to be played at all. Of the roughly four hours it takes to get through, most of that time is spent in cutscenes, making Sword of the Berserk more of an animated film than a game. Honestly, this does not really bother me. If you got the game because you were already a fan of Berserk, then what you’re getting is Berserk. What’s especially great about it is that the story told is unique to the game. It’s a side-quest, as it were, to the Millennium Falcon arc, where Guts has decided to keep the traumatized Casca close to him as he continues his quest to defeat Griffith. In this side story, Guts meets some traveling performers and decides to go watch their performance in a nearby town. He ends up walking into the middle of a conflict between the regions lord and people afflicted with a curse, called the Mandragora.

What’s more, is that the story is told quite well. For its time, the Dreamcast was a very capable platform for 3D graphics. Even twenty years later, the cutscenes are enjoyable to watch on their own if you’re willing to overlook a few flaws. Sure, the characters models are a bit blocky and they move a bit like action figures, but robotic movement is a problem that still plagues 3D animation if the 2016 Berserk or 2019 Ultraman anime is anything to go by. There’s still incredible attention to detail. The faces, in particular, have a lot of expression to them and help bring moments to life in a way that seems hard to believe at times.

You can really see the despair on his face.

It helps, too, that the voice acting is of very high quality. With well-known talents like Cam Clarke and Earl Boen, there was a clear emphasis on treating the game’s story seriously. This is extremely important since the story makes up pretty much the whole reason you’d be playing this game in the first place. There are some issues with the localization here and there (the name Guts is treated as a nickname rather than a given name in a few scenes), but the line delivery and interaction between characters really sell the scenes, even if the lines themselves are a bit clunky or cliched. When you compare the cutscenes in Sword of the Berserk to those in say, Tenchu: Stealth Assassins, released just a year earlier, you can’t help but appreciate the skill in direction and experience of the actors when stellar voice-acting in games was not a given.

You could argue that this story could have been served better through manga or traditional animation, but it’s hard to fault Yuke’s for wanting to make a Berserk game, or Miura for wanting to branch out and test the waters on new methods of conveying his story. Berserk’s popularity in Japan meant that a game based on the series was going to be made at some point, and creating a self-contained side story that can be begun and ended within that game makes perfect sense. It also helps make the game approachable by those who aren’t familiar with the series at all. In 1999, Berserk certainly wasn’t considered such a pinnacle of dark fantasy in the West as it is today, so someone picking the game off the shelf in the US would very likely have no frame of reference for the story at all. Thanks to the introduction of new characters like Rita, the player can learn what they need to know through the lens of those characters, making the reliance on that prior knowledge a lot less necessary.

Now that Berserk’s influence has become so far reaching, it seems unlikely that anyone would come to the Dreamcast game without some working knowledge of the series. While it’s hard to consider it a can’t miss part of the Berserk experience (save for the wonderful musical contributions of Susumu Hirasawa), there’s enough there for anyone willing to put up with some clunky design. At the very least, it’s worth watching a playthrough online for the story alone if the act of playing the game itself doesn’t manage to replicate the feeling of becoming the Black Swordsman himself.

[dazaaaai]

(person from ur tumblr): CAN I JUST SAY THIS BLOG IS AWESOME :D I cant believe I found another person who likes bsd! btw Im Kunikida's wife, nice to meet you. Tell ur hus that Kunikida wants an explanation regarding the sudden disappearance of his nb XDD Aaanyways, to get to the point, I was hoping maaaybe for a prompt like: Kunikida sick w/ cold and a sweet Dazai takes care of him...?

HI THERE!! Sorry this is so late omg it’s been almost half a year but BLESS!!! It’s always good to have more people who like the Bungalow Wild Pups :D hello Mrs. Kunikida it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, I’ll be sure to tell Dazai to attend to the case of Kunikida’s missing notebook XD And yes !! You may of course, have your request! I think it’s not as fluffy and one-on-one as you wanted, but I had a lot of fun writing, so thank you for requesting and I do hope you enjoy it as much as I did typing it up!!

This Can’t End Well

⋆pairing: none that are mentioned!⋆ characters: Doppo Kunikida, Osamu Dazai, Akiko Yosano (main); Atsushi Nakajima, Junichirou Tanizaki, Kenji Miyazawa, Edogawa Ranpo, OC (secondary); Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kirako Haruno and the clerks (mentioned)⋆genre: mostly comedy, fluff near the end⋆ rating: K+⋆warnings: mentions of vomiting and other sickness symptoms⋆words: 2051→  summary: Kunikida’s definitely sick, and neither the Agency nor he himself are entirely certain what to do. Dazai, however, has a plan…

   This couldn’t end well.

    He didn’t want to admit it. It was shameful, and he had work to do! He couldn’t just slack off, couldn’t just stay at home… He had a schedule to keep to, an ideal — there was no way he could allow himself to be lazy, no way he could allow himself to act like…

    Dazai pinches his cheek, “Kunikida-kuuuun. You look awfully red.”

    Kunikida growls, “Well. Maybe if someone weren’t standing here trying to annoy me to death, my complexion would be a lot paler.”

    “I don’t think it’s just that,” Dazai hums, moving his hand from his cheek to his forehead, Kunikida doing everything in his power to keep typing and not snap Dazai’s wrist. “Kunikida-kun, I think you have a fever!”

    “Absolutely not,” Kunikida quickly swats his hand away before returning to his ever-important document. Click-clack, click-clack…

    “I think maybe Yosano-sensei should take a look at you.”

    “Absolutely not.”

   And then, to Kunikida’s horror, his body completely betrays him. His nose seizes, his lip quivers, his face scrunches up…

   He does an awful, awful thing.

   He sneezes.

   “Bless you, Kunikida-san!” Comes Atsushi’s voice from across the desk, from where the tiger boy is sitting, on the other chair.

   Kunikida swiftly wipes his nose with a hanky, returning to his typing.

   “You know,” Dazai says, leaning against his chair. “Our little photographer says that where she’s from, a single sneeze means bad luck, or very simply, ‘be patient.’ Maybe your work can wait?”

   “Nonsense! I do not procrastinate,” But his voice sounds stuffy — stuffier than usual, Kunikida’s sure Dazai would remark — and his eyes feel weary. His throat is scratchy, too…

   “Uh-oh,” Dazai coos. “I think somebody’s definitely sick.”

   “No.”

   “You really don’t look so well, Kunikida-kun.”

   “I’m fine, Dazai!”

   “You’re sick,” Dazai’s teasingly insistent, turning to his subordinate, “Atsushi-kun! Doesn’t Kunikida-kun seem sick to you?”

   Atsushi glances nervously between his two superiors — one wears an easy-going smile and the other’s glaring daggers at Atsushi, as if daring him to speak up.

   “W-well,” he begins. “Kunikida-san’s a logical man… Why would he come to work if he wasn’t feeling well?”

   “I don’t know,” Dazai hums. “Why don’t you ask him?”

   Atsushi takes one look at Kunikida, yelps, and buries his face back in his paperwork.

   “I am not sick, Dazai,” Kunikida says, with a sense of finality — he refuses to accept any prolonging of this discussion. He has work to do.

   But then…

   Coughs.

   It’s a small, tickle of sorts, within the back of his throat, at first. Then the tickle turns into scraping in his lungs, and soon enough Kunikida’s hacking up spit and bile into the palm of his hand, desperately trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside his body where they belong.

   “Kunikida-san?” It’s Junichirou this time, he’s walking by with a stack of folders and binders. The boy’s bright red eyes gaze at Kunikida with concern, “Are you alright? You don’t look too good.”

   “Tanizaki-san, I assure you, I’m in perfect health—” Kunikida says, but ends up being unable to continue as another coughing fit wracks his chest.

   Junichirou frowns, “You should go lie down in Yosano-sensei’s infirmary, if only for a bit. It’d help a lot — I can take over what you need to do for today from here, if you need me to.”

   Kunikida dismisses him with a wave of his shaky hand, “No, I insist. I have it under control.”

   He returns to his typing, only to realize upon hitting a certain point in his document, that he needs to refer and source something from a case they’d solved last year — the files to do with that are not on the hard drive belonging to the computer he’s currently working with. In fact, they haven’t been digitized yet, so they’re on a shelf against the walls of the office, a little ways away from where Kunikida’s working.

   All he has to do is get up and get the binder. Simple, right?

   Not right. He gets up and is immediately hit by a wave of dizziness so intense that both Atsushi and Junichirou shout at once, “Kunikida-san!”

   They rush to his side just as his head’s about to hit the ground and catch him, the two younger, weaker boys barely holding the man upwards, dragging him back to his seat, which he collapses in gratefully, and while breathing heavily.

   “You definitely need a break,” Junichirou puts a hand to Kunikida’s forehead, tutting when he feels the high temperature of his skin.

   “No no,” Kunikida insists, but when he sits up he again finds himself dizzy, collapsing back once more in his seat.

   “Everybody needs to rest sometime,” Atsushi says, voice soft.

   “I can rest at night, when I’m asleep…”

   “Kunikida-san,” Junichirou continues. “We’re going to take you to Yosano-sensei and see what she thinks, okay?”

   Kunikida’s face manages to pale, at least, in comparison to how red it is from his fever. “Oh no.”

   Dazai cackles maniacally, “How exciting! Gotta get treated by the scary scary doctor when you have the suds, Kunikida-kuuun…!”

   “Is he alright?” Kenji asks, poking his head out from behind Atsushi and Junichirou, who’ve been waiting outside of Yosano’s office for about half an hour.

   He was asking this question to Yosano, of course, who’d finally unlocked the door and stepped outside, seeming bemused in expression but smiling gently at Kenji, then laughing.

   “Oh he’s fine,” she replies at last. “He’s just sick.”

   “I knew it!” Dazai yells cheerily from across the floor.

   “So he really is sick?” Junichirou bites his lip, “Can you heal him?”

   Yosano shakes her head, “No. My ability only works on injuries, and is mostly intended for the life-threatening kind… It can do nothing for psychological damage, medical problems you were born with, nor, in this particular case… The common cold.”

   “He caught a cold?” Atsushi’s almost in awe. “That seems so strange. He’s always seemed so healthy and hard-working.”

   “Finally took its toll,” Yosano sighs. “It’s a sign that he needs to rest.”

   She then narrows her eyes, looking all around at the Agency members.

   “Whatever you do,” she begins, tone deadly serious and commanding. “Do not let that man leave his bed. I don’t care if he begs or pleads or cries, he will not work today.”

   “B-but,” Atsushi tries to argue. “Yosano-sensei! You know Kunikida-san is so very, u-um—!”

   “Doctor’s orders,” is Yosano’s firm reply, as she exits the Agency with her heels pattering against the marble. “Now, I’m off to get cough syrup for the patient. Do what you will to make him feel comfortable, if you feel like it — though I’m sure he’d rather you all be working in his absence.”

   The door shuts, and a silence falls upon the members of the Agency.

   “What…” Atsushi trails off. “Now?”

   “Isn’t it obvious, Atsushi-kun?” Dazai laughs, coming to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We take care of Kunikida-kun until Yosano-sensei returns from the pharmacy.”

   “How do we take care of him though?” Junichirou looks at Dazai, curious. “We’re not doctors.”

   “Oh, pish-tosh! It’s just a cold, right? Everybody has home remedies for a cold! Why not throw some suggestions my way, and I’ll see what I can do for my beloved coworker!”

   “Dazai-san,” Atsushi’s surprised. “I didn’t know you cared about Kunikida-san so much.”

   Dazai puts a hand to his chest, as if he’s completely and totally offended. “Why! Atsushi-kun. I’m struck at the very idea that you thought I don’t care about him. Nothing could be further from the truth! He takes such good care of the Agency, why don’t we return the favor for a change?”

   There are slow, then enthusiastic nods amongst the younger Agency members, but Ranpo simply cackles from where he sits, sucking on a lollipop.

   “Oh yeah,” he shakes his head, eyes ever closed in amusement. “This can’t end well.”

   “Now now,” Dazai claps his hands together. “Ranpo-san, don’t be so pessimistic! So, which of you lovelies has an idea for what we could do?”

   “Well,” Kenji taps his chin. “Honey will do the trick, if he has a sore throat.”

   The brown-eyed girl sitting next to Kenji sticks out her tongue, “Honey. Yucky! I hate that stuff. I have a better idea,” she gets up off her seat, and skips off to the front door, “I’m going to go down to the café, ask Lucy if she has any maple syrup. Same effect, tastes much better!”

   Before anyone can stop her, the door is opened and shut once more.

   “Maybe something hot and warm to eat,” Atsushi turns around. “Like soup.”

   “Atsushi-kun, can you cook?”

   “M-more or less, but—”

   “Wonderful! Accompany the little princess down to the cafe and ask if you can use their kitchen and ingredients — be sure to tell them to put charges on your tab, alright?”

   “B-but!”

   “You’re the one who suggested it, not me. Now go, go go go!”

   Atsushi sighs, getting up and doing so.

   “What should we do?” Junichirou and Kenji ask in unison.

   “Hmmm,” Dazai tips his head, thinking. “You two should take care of Kunikida’s work while he’s away from his keyboard. I’m sure he’d appreciate that tons!”

   Junichirou furrows his eyebrows, “His work is really complicated, at least to me. I’m just an errand boy, Dazai-san…”

   Kenji nods in nervous agreement, “Yeah. And I still don’t know what a computer is, let alone how to use one!”

   Dazai laughs, like it’s not a problem at all. “You’re two capable boys! I’m sure you can figure out.”

   They exchange glances, then get up, bowing lightly, saying, “We’ll do our best!”

   Dazai waves them off happily, then turns to the infirmary’s door with what can only be described as a grin akin to that of the Cheshire Cat.

   So begins his fun…

   “Y-Yosano-sensei!” Kunikida splutters as the woman enters her office once more, having returned with the cough medicine she’d promised.

   “Hmm?” Yosano raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow in confusion. “Kunikida-kun, you’re acting so scared as if I might treat you with my ability.”

   “This is worse,” he whispers. “So much worse.”

   “What happened?” Yosano rolls down one of her gloves to check her watch, “I couldn’t have been gone more than forty minutes.”

   “Dazai happened.”

   And Kunikida, with a dying voice, though Yosano insists for him to rest his throat, regales her on all the awful things that have occurred in those devastating forty minutes that Yosano was absent.

   First, Atsushi and his little friend come back up into the Agency, one with a pot of hot soup, and the other with a big urn (that’s the only word that comes to Kunikida’s mind, as it was just so large) of maple syrup, both insisting that he eat it all.

   He, er, had expelled most of it, to his utter humiliation and to Yosano’s complete unsurprise.

   And then, it got worse… Dazai came in and tried to cheer him up, as it were, by driving him “COMPLETELY UP THE WALL” and constantly poking and prodding him, pretending to give him a soothing massage when really he was nearly breaking Kunikida’s foot to go along with his disease.

   Then, to top it all off, Junichirou comes in, maybe five or ten minutes before Yosano’s return, only to tell him that he finished all of Kunikida’s work… When Kunikida asked Junichirou to show him, Kenji waddled in with the laptop, and after seeing the state it was in, Kunikida could do nothing but scream.

   Kunikida’s end up sent home for the week — and the detectives are given a thorough scolding from the President. Ranpo laughs about it nonstop, every day up until Kunikida returns…

   And once he does, nobody goes near him, not even Dazai.

   They know if they do…

   It won’t end well.

   But, when Kunikida arrives, all better now though even angrier than usual, to sit at his desk…

   He finds a little card perched on his laptop.

   He takes the small, thick paper, and unfolds it to reveal the words, surely in one of the members’ neat calligraphy…

We’re sorry!! Get well soon, Kunikida-san!

   And it’s signed by every one of the detectives and clerks, even Dazai and Ranpo.

   So maybe it did end well, after all.

[daysswithyou]

Life’s a surprise

Characters: DAY6 Jae x OC

Genre: slice of life, humour, romance, fluff

Words: 2.7k

Description: When you’re sick and tired of the single life and life decides to surprise you a little

---

"Hey Y/N... I'm really sorry... I can't go out tonight, its date night with Sungjin." 

Not again. 

Masking your disappointment, you quickly chirped out a response to your friend on the other end. 

"It's alright then, you have fun with Sungjin. I'll see you another time."

You then ended the call before tossing your phone onto your bed and flopping down on it yourself afterward. 

You've wanted to catch up with your family or friends but everyone was rejecting you for the same reason: date nights. You've called at least 3 friends and your cousin but everyone seemed to have a significant other to spend time with. Even your parents were going out to catch a musical together. Literally everyone was having something going on for them - except you. 

 You've never had a love life since young and growing up, you've never had a problem with that. You've always thought that boyfriends were a waste of time and money - which was probably true for a student. But as you gradually blossomed into a beautiful young lady and all your peers began to have a significant other, you found yourself spending more time by yourself and it does get lonely, like now. Recently, you've even been entertaining thoughts about being left on the shelf - something completely out of character to you. As much as you hate to admit it, the thought of growing old alone does scare you terribly, as it does to many other people. All you wanted was to spend some time with family and friends (and maybe find a boyfriend), was that too much to ask for?

 After moping around on your bed for a few minutes, you decided that you would not waste away a good night just because you had no one by your side. 

 Well, a girl's gotta learn how to have fun by herself.

-

The moment you exited your car, all you could see were couples everywhere. Kissing, holding hands as they walked, coming together in the same colour scheme etc. Everything around you screamed 'couples!' and 'pairs!' and you stood like a sore thumb amongst the sea of lovers. However, you refused to let this deter you from achieving your purpose tonight. Lifting your chin up high and straightening your back, you walked tall and proud into the bar, your purposeful steps announcing your entrance. Choosing an outdoor seat facing the harbour to get a clear view of the evening sky, you declined the waiter’s offer of food and instead opted for a bottle of red wine instead. When the wine came, you took your time savouring the sweet alcohol in small sips. From the corner of your eye, you could make out a couple holding hands and giving one another kisses on the cheek. Was it so hard for a girl to not have to be reminded of her lack of a love life? Well, apparently not. Attempting to quench your frustration, you downed the next cup in one mouthful.

And then another,

And another,

And another.

By the time you got the end of the bottle, you were positively drunk. Having no rational control over your body, you walked out of the restaurant and onto the wharf without paying and when the waiter tried to chase after you, you pushed him away with an unusually good amount of force, leaving the waiter dumbfounded at your diminishing figure. That was when the waiter felt a firm hand being placed onto his shoulder, before a towering figure with spectacles turning out to be his saviour.

“I’ll pay for her bill – keep the change as a tip.”

Pressing a hundred dollar bill into his hand, Jae took after you.

-

Sashaying along the wharf in the cooling summer night, you began to let out a string of colour profanities from your lips, cursing the world and your terrible luck for leaving you without a boyfriend. When you finally got exhausted, you collapsed onto the ground in a heap, taking off your red heels and flinging them far, far away before curling up into a foetal position to bawl your eyes out.

“Hey, are you ok?”

Sniffling, you lifted your head from your arms, making eye contact with someone wearing thin, golden glasses and somewhere in your mind, you decided that the person in front of you was Harry Potter.

Letting a gasp escape your pink lips, you exclaimed this piece of information out loud to no one in particular.

“Harry Potter! I like your glasses!”

Reaching out, you pulled Jae’s glasses off his face before placing them on your own. The glasses were too big for the bridge of your nose and they kept slipping off but that did not deter you from looking up at Jae and giggling to him.

Shaking his head in disbelief as his lips cracked to form a smile, Jae could not believe what he was seeing right now. Were you even real? How could someone go from vulgar, sobbing mess to a giggling high school girl now? Jae could not believe the duality that existed within you and he blamed it on the alcohol as the cause of your haywire cognitive functions. Even with the smudged makeup and glasses that were too big for your face, he actually thought that you looked cute. But no matter how cute you looked, Jae knew that getting you home was of utmost importance.

“Hey erm… are you sober enough to tell me where you stay? I’m going to send you home – I can’t possibly leave you here.”

Alas, his words were clearly not registered and now, you were beginning to fiddle around with his glasses, muttering in broken sentences about how much you adore them.

“Never mind, I’ll help myself.”

Opening up your purse, he dug around for your identity card and finally got your address as well as your name.

Y/N huh? An interesting name for such an interesting character.

“Well, Y/N, let’s get you home now.”

Turning to face you, he realised that you were already asleep, your head leaning against the cool metal railing of the wharf. Letting out a deep sigh and light chuckle afterwards, Jae gently picked you up bridal style before retrieving your heels and purse, carrying you all the way into the passenger seat of your car as he took the wheel.

-

When your parents opened the door that night, to say they got a shock of their lives was an understatement. Never would they have expected a man to show up at the door step at midnight, much less one that was carrying their daughter. Being the dramatic person that she is, your mum had to say the most inappropriate thing in the world.

“Oh my god is she dead?”

Blinking rapidly, Jae licked his lips before replying.

“Eh, no she isn’t, she just had too much to drink. I know this looks really inappropriate and very misleading but may I?”

Opening the door a little wider, your dad led the way to your room and stayed in there till your mother chased him out and closed the door.

“What are you doing leaving them alone inside!”

“Letting them do their things of course!”

“What, are you insane?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to see her appear home with a man in tow! Now would you just shush!”

Pressing her ear against the door, she listened like a bat to find out what was happening in your room.

-

Back in your room, Jae had taken a wet towel to help you wipe your face whilst leaving your clothes intact. Placing the duvets over your figure, he then gently removed the glasses from your face and placed them by your bedside. With the illumination from the moon, Jae finally found a spare paper and pen.

When he exited the room, he found your parents staring back at him with hopeful expressions and he felt pressured to say something.

“Erm, I’ve put her in bed but she’s drank a lot so you might want to place some water and hangover medicine by her bedside. I’ll get going now.”

Jae then respectfully bowed before leaving your house, taking a taxi back to the restaurant to retrieve his car that he left behind.

-

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and you groaned out loud, earning more protests from your parched throat. Drinking the water slowly, the cool liquid brought your throat immense relief and you let out a sigh of relief. When the hydration slowly eased the pain in your head, you opened up your eyes and found out that you were in your room.

Wait, how did I get here? Wasn’t I at a restaurant last night? And whose glasses are these?

Carefully running your fingers across the thin rim of the glasses, you then picked up the note and read it carefully.

“Since you like my glasses so much, you can have them.

-Jae Potter”

War flashbacks of last night raced through your mind – getting drunk at the bar, running off without paying but more prominently, of a certain blonde hair male whom you now knew as Jae. Taking your pillow, you let out a muffled scream into it but of course, that did not go unnoticed to your mother.

Bursting into your room with her heavy ensemble of jewellery swaying around her, your mother stared at your wide-eyed before hurrying to your side.

“What’s wrong Y/N?”

“All I want to do is shrink into some corner right now…” You then proceeded to shake your head violently into your pillow, before your mum ripped it away from you.

“I’m proud of you last night honey.”

“What for?”

“For getting yourself a man!”

“Excuse me? How did you –”

“Do you really have no idea? A young man drove you home last night!”

“He has blonde hair.”

A nod.

“He was also really tall.”

Another nod.

It was confirmed: This person called Jae had drove you home last night and you had embarrassed yourself in front of him horribly. Throwing the covers over your face, you lay down on bed and pretended to sink into oblivion. Your mother then patted your stomach one last time before exiting your room, closing the door softly after her.

-

For the rest of the day, you stayed home, trying to recover from the hangover until your phone rang in the evening.

“Hey Y/N~”

“Finally you found enough time to call me.”

“Hey I was out with Sungjin~ but aren’t I calling you now?”

Accepting her cuteness that was her measly attempt to appease you, you got straight down to business.

“What is this about Emily?”

“I’ve prepared a double date for us tonight?”

“What? You know I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yes I do, which is why I’m setting you up with one right now! I’ll text you the location and timing, see you tonight!”

Before you even had time to say anything, the line went dead and her messages came in instantly.

A map of a fancy Italian restaurant popped up with her message that read: See you tonight at 7pm! PS: I’m sure you’ll love him! ;)

It was already 5pm, and you knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer so you picked yourself off the couch to begin looking presentable. For some reason, you took the glasses along with you, your intuition telling you that you’ll need it later.

-

At 7pm on the dot, you walked into the restaurant in your red velvet dress before being waved over by Emily. From the corner of your eye, you could see someone else approaching your table – your supposed “date” for tonight.

“Y/N, I want you to meet –”

“Jae.”

In the background, you could hear her asking “How do you know his name?” but you were too lost in your own world to reply her. You caught Jae’s eye contact – his eyes seemed clearer now without his glasses. He then smiled, and you swallowed thickly, certain that he remembered every single detail from last night. By now, your cheeks were bright red and no amount of foundation would be able to mask your great embarrassment. Before you could flee the scene, you were brought back to reality by Emily shaking of your arm.

“You know Jae?”

Before you could explain the situation, Jae intervened in your behalf.

“Y/N and I are, in fact, pretty well-acquainted. Well, we’ll leave you and Sungjin to enjoy your time.”

Placing a gentle hand on your waist, Jae steered you out of the restaurant before letting go of you.

“Ladies first.”

Looking back at him, you then took a step forward and Jae then fell into tandem beside you as both of you walked further and further away from the restaurant. Silence enveloped the both of you for some time before you finally broke the ice.

“Here, your glasses.”

“Oh thank you.”

His long slender fingers came into contact with yours at that moment, sending sparks of electricity through your arm and causing you to shiver. Jae mistook that and thought that you were cold.

“Are you cold? Here, have this.”

Shedding his jacket, Jae carefully draped it over your shoulders, revealing a handsome maroon turtleneck beneath. You noted how both of you were wearing matching colours now, and you blushed a little at that thought.

“Thank you… and about last night, I’m terribly sorry. I had too much to drink and one thing led to the next. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright; I couldn’t possibly leave you so vulnerable out there. But I must admit, that was the most extensive vocabulary of curse words I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“That was…ah forget it.” You didn’t know how to explain your behaviour without revealing your desperation and you decided to just laugh it off with Jae, which, thankfully he did.

“Can I confirm something Y/N?”

“Sure.”

“You were feeling lousy about being single, right?”

“I have no defence against that – so yes.”

“I’ve got something that can work in both our favour.”

“What is it?”

“Go out for dinner with me one night? You can say it’s a date.”

You nodded your head ever so faintly, and Jae has never smiled so brightly in his entire life before.

One date turned into many more.

By the end of 1 year, you were officially no longer single.

By the end of the 3rd year, you were officially a married woman.

-

Epilogue

A ball bounced off your back and you turned over with your heavy belly, all ready to admonish your son for throwing things at you but when you finally saw the culprit, you rolled your eyes and let out a sigh of resignation.

Your husband Jae was holding brightly coloured balls from the play pen, a huge child-like grin spread out across his face. He was supposed to be playing with his son Adrian but 3 year old Adrian was now exhausted and sleeping on the couch, leaving his father to entertain himself in the play pen.

“I never knew these balls were so fun to play with Y/N! Can we get more of them?”

His loud voice had caused Adrian to fidget in his sleep and you immediately shot Jae a glare that effectively made him shut up. Walking over to you, you began chiding Jae.

“Really Jae, I don’t know who’s the kid sometimes – Adrian or you.”

“Aw come on honey, why do you have to be so mean?”

“Because you deserve it.”

Pregnancy hormones were at their peak now that you were near your due date, leaving you with a short fuse and Jae had to put up with your sharp tongue a lot these past few months.

But now, verbal abuse wasn’t enough – he even had to suffer physical abuse. You had gripped onto his forearm with such force that he howled in pain, causing Adrian to wake up.

Jae then had to bring both a crying son and mother in pain to the hospital where you gifted him with another precious child: a girl.

When he first got to hold her days later, he burst out sobbing in tears upon looking at the little bundle and you had to comfort your husband despite still being weak.

You never understood how you managed to fall for such a man but life always surprises you doesn’t it?

[springdayismyaesthetic]

Barbies: A Jimin One-Shot

Genre: Romance; Unrequited love??? I don’t know what genre this is

Pairings: Jiminxreader

Warnings: angst, lots of angst, character death, some fluff, and slight swearing.

Word count: 3042

Author’s Note: This is based loosely around the song: Barbies by P!nk, one of my favorite songs to listen to. I actually cried while writing this and I love it. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. I know I’m not the best writer but I can see the improvement I’ve made. Enjoy!

Oh, I wish I could go back to playing barbies in my room

They never say that you gotta grow up, quite this soon

How fast things change, and now I'm here and all I wanna do

Is go back to playing barbies in my room

Your mother and father had always told you to be careful with your heart. It was a precious stone that could crack with the slightest tremor. And so you protected it with all your might, or so you thought. Heartbreak was something that was unexplainable to you, it was a heart-wrenching pain that delved deep into your core. It felt as if your whole body would split apart the time your cat had passed. Mittens was the one who was there for your first steps, first words, first everything. It was the first day of kindergarten when Mittens got sick. Jimin Park, a dark-haired boy, noticed your tears and tried to console you, offering hugs, candy, trying anything to see your smile. Jimin grew to be your friend, the two of you unstoppable against the rest of the world. He would come over and play on rainy days, when his parents both had to go in to work due to the weather. You weren’t sure what exactly they did, but you were happy to spend time with Jimin. He put up with playing barbies for hours on end, brushing their hair and dressing them, he even played along to your ridiculous soap opera stories, throwing the hated Jessica doll down the stairs in the end. Both of your giggles would fill the air as the toy was sent tumbling down the stairs, looking back, you wish you could go back to those days. They were dull days, no worries or care in the world except for who Ken would date next. Sadly when Jimin grew older, he turned into your Ken doll. The girls all hovering and cooing over him and into middle school, you disappeared from his life.

You didn’t disappear entirely from his life; he still came over to study with you. Those nights were your favorite; you got to see the real him, the one without all the fake smiles he gave to everyone else. One night, in particular, stuck out to you, where you knew that you could never overstep the boundaries of friendship. “My parents are splitting up.” He said, two years into high school and his family was falling apart. He trusted you enough to spill his worries, trusted you enough to keep his secret, to be his shoulder at this time, and you were. He cried into your shoulder for hours that night, the math homework lying incomplete on the table. Your shirt was stained with tears as he cried into your neck, your shaky hands drifted up and down his back in a soothing pattern. “I’m here.” you quietly say once he seems to calm down, “Thank you, Y/N,” He says quietly in return, not moving from your shoulder, his now dyed blonde hair, tickling your neck. He leaves quietly about an hour later, just hums of acknowledgement leaving his throat. Jimin changes after that, once his parents split up, he becomes a whole new person to you.He has new friends now in his third year of high school. A group of seven altogether and you left on the sidelines to watch. His popularity grows, and he soon has a girlfriend, leaving your heart to break for the first time. Silently you lock yourself up in your room, you mother knocking on the door for dinner. “I’m not hungry.” Your reply from your bed, tear-stained pillowcases surrounding your head. You think back to the old days, where the Barbies in your attic brought the most joy to you.

Jimin seems to have a new girlfriend every couple months from your view. He always gets tired, leaving them crying in the hallway of your school, leaving you staring from your locker at his dyed blonde hair, his eyes meeting yours for an instant, before turning away. Things changed so fast; your friendship was like walking on eggshells when he came over to study. It happened less frequently now, and within months he was gone, drifting away with his newfound friends. Gathering your strength, you finished high school with strong and flying colors. Graduating third in your class and headed off to college to be an actress. Portraying stories had always been a fun hobby of yours, and now here you were, fulfilling your dreams ever so slowly. Somehow Jimin Park ended up going to the same school as you, and miraculously you had some of the same classes as him. Fate has a funny way of playing the game sometimes, you think, fate is a cruel joke, the other side of your mind says. Jimin slowly comes back into your life, thanks to the two classes you have together at University. Jimin wants to be a music teacher, his love for singing was easy to spot, even at just a glance. His now pastel pink dyed hair helped accentuate his features, almond eyes shaping into crescents when he smiled. His laugh brought you the most joy, making butterflies bubble in your stomach. That’s when you realize you truly love him. When the simple questions he asks has your heart beating faster, and the light touches against your hand leave a static shock behind. So, with gritted teeth you ask him to coffee, your hands shaking with fear. Jimin smiles, a real one, and accepts, your heart flying through the roof. Finally, after years you had a real chance with him.

It was an unfortunate chance really; the odds had never really been in your favor with Jimin. The spark is going up in flames just to burn out a week later. The coffee date started wonderfully, him being a gentleman, paying for your coffee, giving you his jacket to hide your shoulders from the chilly spring day. You notice all the little things after that, the way he seems to turn his body away from you, his glances to the pretty barista at the counter, and the way he keeps glancing at his phone. It comes to the point where he pointedly stares at his phone while you talk about the book you just finished reading. It was a beautiful book, about people escaping death and finding love and- he’s texting someone with a little smile on his face. The way his eyes glitter at his phone sends an angry fire racing through your heart. Your heart breaks for the second time in your life, “If you don’t want to be here, you could have just told me Jimin.” You say as calmly as you can. He looks up from his phone, guilt lining his dark eyes. Eyes you had come to love. He opens his mouth to speak, and you shake your head, fighting tears. “Save it Jimin.” You whisper and get up, leaving the cafe quickly and disappearing into the city crowd, mascara leaking down your cheeks. You ended up in a park, wandering as your sniffles filled the quiet air. A cold park bench is where you end up, the metal frigid under your thighs. The one thing on your mind is a wish. To go back to playing barbies in your room. Cold tears slip out of your closed eyes and your crying again, cursing to yourself as you frantically wipe your eyes. Oh, the mess you must look like when people pass by. Giving you sad, pathetic looks. “Y/N.” A low voice says, Jimin, and it has you clenching your fists. “Let’s go home, yeah?” he says, easing you off of the bench. You didn’t speak as he led you back to the dorm, gently closing the door behind him as he leaves you in your room. The smiling face of your favorite barbie staring back at you from her shelf. Your heart shatters, and you are left crying yet again, because really, in what world would Jimin ever love you.

Summer doesn’t come fast enough, and you’re eager to get home to your parents. They take you to a beach this summer, a small one with tiny beach houses lining the shores. Even if it was only a couple of weeks long, it was the best time of your life, spending time with your parents together. There was one night, you sitting on the edge of the beach, water lapping up onto your legs. The sea was calm tonight, gently urging itself farther up the sand. Your bare legs have goosebumps rising on them, and a lone seagull yells across the sea. The gentle wind blows your hair off of your shoulders, and you close your eyes, basking in the quiet moment. The moon’s lowlight is sparkling off the water. You turn your head, seeing that you’re not alone. A tall, pink-haired man is staring at you from across the beach. “How on earth had he ended up here.” you think to yourself and instantly connect the dots, your mother had said something about inviting him to come visit the beach house tonight. With a silent groan, you turn your head back to the sea, feeling his gaze pierce your shoulders. “Um, hey, Y/N,” he says softly behind you, in which you hum in return, “The sea is beautiful tonight, isn’t it,” you say carefully and feel him sit down in the sand next to you. Heart thumping in your chest you stare at the sea, wishing your heart would just shut up and forget about the boy sitting next to you. “Are we still friends?” Jimin asks, his voice filled with worry and concern, “I know I hurt you at the cafe, and I’m sorry.” His apology comes out of nowhere, and it has you biting your lip in thought. “Yes, we can still be friends.” it comes out softly, almost a whisper. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever said, it will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but his quiet answer of “Thank you.” has your face heating up and butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You spend the rest of the night staring at the sea; you sit until the sun rises and Jimin stands to leave.

The worst day of your life is when you go to a small party at a cafe. Jimin joined a band, and he asked you to come to his first performance, reluctantly you went to the little scene and watched him perform. He was fantastic and sang his heart out; the other members were all part of his high school group of friends. After the performance he gave you a sweaty hug, lingering for just a second too long and sending your brain into a frenzy. The quiet ringing of your cell phone has you picking it up. An unknown number flashes across the screen, and you answer, giving Jimin a concerned look. “Hello?” you ask, a woman’s voice fills your ear, the words you never thought you would hear flow easily through the small speaker. “Is this Y/N L/N?” with a short answer of “Yes.” She continues, “I’m sorry, miss L/N, there’s been an accident, your parents are in the hospital, I’m afraid they have little time left.” The rest of the words are being tuned out as the phone drops from your hand, knees quaking together as the words connect in your head. Jimin is catching your falling body; his words are mushed together as your brain tries to understand what is happening. He picks up your dropped phone, putting it to his ears and saying a few words the to the woman across the line. “We’ll be there,” he says shortly. Quickly he drags you to his car, sliding you into the passenger seat, you’re shocked form speechless and hands shaking. He’s turning your head towards him, “Hey, Y/N I’m here, okay? We’re going to the hospital; everything is going to be okay.” He lies so quickly, and your heart is breaking a third time, but not for him, for your parents. The funeral comes immediately, a black dress slinks down your thighs and reaches the grass, and a black umbrella stands tall over you. Jimin stands tall beside you, a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders as the coffins are lowered into the ground. Later, you’re hiding in the attic, setting up your barbies, makeup staining your cheeks as you pretend that everything is okay.

Jimin’s light in your life seems to grow every day, he brings food over to your house each night and helps you go grocery shopping once a week. Your parents had left you everything, the house, the car, and money. It was undoubtedly a curse. To walk your home and see memories of their lives on every wall, every room, it leaves you shaking and running to the bathroom to throw up.  You can’t imagine living in a world without them, a world without their smiles and laughter. There are bad days during grief, and there are good days. The good days consist of small smiles to Jimin’s goofy behavior, him forcing you to dance in your kitchen, and most of all him growing closer to you. The bad days seem to outnumber the good the first few months after the funeral. You had refused to eat the first week, making yourself sick to the point of dry heaving in the bathroom, smiling family pictures laughing at your shaking form next to the toilet. Jimin finds you next to the toilet, his spare key coming in handy when he rang the doorbell. His eyes are filled with sadness as he wipes your face off and fixes your ponytail. He helps you to bed, curling up next to your unmoving form. “I miss them.” you say, “I know,” he replies, letting his arms envelop you to his chest.

Slowly, you realize just how strong your feelings are for Jimin, just how there his is for you. How unmoving he is as your best friend. Even if his band is getting more popular and he is booking his first small tour, he still makes time for you and even gets you to go along with him on tour. It’s the first night back in your town, him walking you home, when he confesses out of the blue. “Hey, can we stop for a second?” he asks, hands fidgeting in front of him and his eyes glance around. “I know I haven’t been the best person to you, God, I was horrible to you.” He pushes a hand through his hair as he struggles to get his words out, “But I can’t help but to keep falling for you every damn day, Y/N, I- fuck.” he swears, laughing softly, “I’m horrible at words.” he says and your heart tightens in your chest, fingers clasping together in front of you, “It’s you, it’s always been you, and I tried to change that, I was scared to fall in love. I was scared to hurt you.” He’s speaking faster now, as if he’s running out of time to speak and your mouth is dry while your heart is dancing in your chest. “I know I’m not doing this right, but I am in love with you, and nothing will ever change that. I loved you the moment I first saw you, when you were crying about Mittens. I loved you when I played barbies with you. I loved you when I told you about my parents. I loved you when you asked me to coffee. I loved you when I was a horrible jerk to you. I will never stop loving you, I can’t get you out of my damn head.” He says, tears filling your eyes and he sees this, hands gripping your shoulders. “Was it something I said? Did I hurt your feelings? I’m so sorry, oh my God, how do I fix this. Don’t cry. Please.” His concern has a soft laugh escaping your throat. “I love you too, idiot.” You say and his smile lightens up your entire world. You’ve chased after this moment your entire life and it’s finally here. He’s pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips as you hook a hand around his neck. He’s laughing against your lips. It’s funny how fast things change in life.

Three years have passed, and the daughter of your dreams sits comfortably in your husband’s lap. Jimin snores softly on the couch, Mina pressing short fingers into his cheeks, her hair as black as her fathers once was. Ever so gently you picked her up off of Jimin’s sleeping and carried her up to her room, eager to show her what you had brought down from the attic. She squeals at seeing the number of dolls on her floor. Your barbies have a different purpose now, and it makes your heart swell. She sits quietly now, brushing a doll’s hair and humming to herself softly. The one in your hand had stark blonde hair, and the smile you once hated on her face was now dear to you. You softly left Mina to herself and headed back down the hall of your house, bumping into Jimin’s tired body at the top of the stairs. “Careful, love.” His tired voice laughs, hooking an arm around your waist, he holds you close and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Is that Jessica?!” He laughs, taking the doll from your hands with glee, “It is.” you laugh in return, leaning into his chest. With a smirk he tosses the doll down the stairs, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He says against your lips and Mina runs out of her room and into your legs. You wouldn’t want it any other way. You don’t wish you could go back in time anymore; you’re glad of where life had taken you. Here with Jimin and Mina, life is perfect.

[hgfstreamchats]

Corpse Bride

Welcome to the 'highglossfinish' room. Knock Out: Well, it looks like that old text won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Knock Out: Oh well. Thenightetc: ...*hurriedly pauses music* Knock Out: Night human! Knock Out: Hello there. Thebes: Hello! Thenightetc: Hello! Knock Out: And Thebes human, hello to you too. Knock Out: Hmm. I'd forgotten he used to pet it. Thenightetc: Yyyes. Zephra85: I MADE IT Thenightetc: Hi! Knock Out: Zephra human! Zephra85: Ooh these videos Zephra85: Hi everyone!

Knock Out: Ahhh...I'm clever. Zephra85: Okay Knock Out, I gotta ask: what exactly were you expecting Megatron to respond with here? Thenightetc: So how glad are you he didn't actually hear that. Knock Out: I count my blessing each night before I power down and again in between buffings. Knock Out: And I quite honestly have no idea. Zephra85: 'Yes Knock Out I DO love you more than Starscream. Also, LOVE the 'Big M', good call there.' Thenightetc: *snickering* Knock Out: And then the entire ship would applaud, and carry me away on their shoulders. Zephra85: Of course Thenightetc: Naturally. Zephra85: Ah punning, a universal constant it seems Knock Out: Nothing like picking up a new language worth of puns. Zephra85: Man the hip movement is mesmorizing, ngl Knock Out: I try. Thenightetc: You succeed. Zephra85: Truly. Knock Out: Hmm...do you think they would have invited me if I would have stopped calling her that? Zephra85: Possibly, although humans are pretty good at holding grudges. Knock Out: Good point. Clearly not my fault. Zephra85: Also, lookit you. Figuring that out right off the bat. Zephra85: Clever 'con. Knock Out: Thank you! What can I say? I was on a roll that night. Zephra85: YAS Zephra85: INSECTICON BACK-UP Zephra85: I really miss the Insecticons. Knock Out: Come to Cybertron. They bred like...well, like Insecticons in the post-war interim. Zephra85: :D Knock Out: Park yourself in just the right spot and you can hear them shrieking for miles. Zephra85: EEEEE Zephra85: Ooh this part is so cool Zephra85: LOOK HOW SMOOTH THAT WAS Knock Out: By the Allspark, that looked even better than it did in my head. Knock Out: I really was on a roll that night. Zephra85: 'I hope that looked as cool as I think it did' Thenightetc: Well, thank god someone was there with a camera to confirm that it did. Knock Out: Thank you, mysterious mystery camera individual! Knock Out: Maybe it was Prime. You know, the vids stopped the moment he did. agooddistraction: aw scrap what did I miss? Zephra85: And thus it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship, thanks to wartime kidnapping Knock Out: Yourself, for starters. Zephra85: Good job Knock Out agooddistraction: Noo Zephra85: Wheeljack! Hey! :D agooddistraction: Hey Thenightetc: ...Oh boy! Zephra85: It was when you were put-off by Bulkhead not having your back in favor of playing peacemaker with Magnus Zephra85: And Arcee was helping you through it Thenightetc: Did he just say they met last night...? Knock Out: Of course he did. agooddistraction: Did that happen in other timelines? Knock Out: It happened in ours. Thenightetc: Didn't they say they were in high school, still? agooddistraction: Weird Thenightetc: "Well, I'm pregnant" Knock Out: Hah! Thenightetc: I'm not sorry. Zephra85: (loOSING IT) Zephra85: Oh god please don't be a racist thing Thenightetc: I think it's probably going to be a thinly veiled racist thing. Thenightetc: And/or classist. Thebes: wow.  Wow.  WOW. Thenightetc: Uggggghhh. agooddistraction: I'm lost Zephra85: This is a weird infography but at least it's not racist Knock Out: Human bonding = boing. Zephra85: Send June and Fowler a congrats card, but it just says 'BOING' Thebes: nah, but it is not-so-quietly sexist and probably a few other things Knock Out: Why not? If I'm not invited, I may as well be banned. Why do things halfway? agooddistraction: Let's just crash it Zephra85: DO IT Knock Out: "Talking. Boinging." In other words, you and Bumblebee. agooddistraction: Yep agooddistraction: Wait so what did what I missed have to do with them Zephra85: Any of those predacon fossils left? Could make a hilarious wedding present. 'I took this from you and now you're married because I did' Knock Out: Brilliant! Knock Out: This short brought to you by: popular songs." Zephra85: 'And it certainly has nothing to do with that we no longer have any use for them and they're taking up room and collecting dust on the shelf, nosiree it's all about the irony.' Thenightetc: Oh!  Corpse Bride? Thenightetc: :D Zephra85: !!! I LOVE THIS MOVIE Thebes: oh this will be fun~ Thenightetc: Anyone here not seen it?  Should we not spoil it? agooddistraction: I have no idea what this is Thenightetc: Ahhh. Knock Out: A human film about a wedding, animated in the same vein as the thing where the human child got his eyes ripped out. Zephra85: Zombie puppets and visiting the afterlife. Also there's a wedding. agooddistraction: [omgg i played victor's piano solo at my piano recitcal when i was like 16] Thenightetc: ..Eyes ripped out? agooddistraction: [and now i'm broken and don't remember how to play it] Zephra85: Coraline Thenightetc: Oh agooddistraction: Wait what Knock Out: And The Sandman. Thenightetc: oh THAT Thenightetc: I was thinking.... nevermind. Zephra85: Ah yes, the opening number: 'Pushing Our Classist Ideals and Expectations On Our Children' Zephra85: A classic. agooddistraction: Huh Thenightetc: wow Thenightetc: Woooow agooddistraction: Magnus Zephra85: Good job Thenightetc: *snort* Knock Out: Hah! Zephra85: Do you hear the gears creaking in his jaw when he does agooddistraction: [this song is the one i did :D] Knock Out: Oh yes. Thenightetc: "Boo!" Zephra85: I honestly think these two/this scene are really cute Thenightetc: awwww Zephra85: Look at them just tiptoeing around each other Thenightetc: And of course that happens Zephra85: (Cries at Christopher Lee's voice) Knock Out: They both look on the cusp of dying from something or other. They can prop each other up. agooddistraction: Why's his helm so tall Zephra85: It's a hat agooddistraction: Oh Thenightetc: pffff Zephra85: The most realistic part of the movie here Zephra85: 'Cause lord knows I don't know 90% of my obscure relatives Thenightetc: "set the tablecloth on fire :) Thenightetc: boing! agooddistraction: Poor fella Thenightetc: PFFFF agooddistraction: Hahahahaha Thenightetc: poor kid Zephra85: Must have been seriously cheap wine if it didn't make the fire worse Thenightetc: day: *is about to get worse* agooddistraction: It's not a party until something catches fire Thenightetc: PFfff Zephra85: True Zephra85: UGH SO CUTE agooddistraction: He's doin' it Knock Out: There he goes. Thenightetc: "is that a hand" agooddistraction: Eew he married the tree? agooddistraction: what Thenightetc: Here we goooo agooddistraction: Scrap Zephra85: He was trying to practice agooddistraction: ??? agooddistraction: When ya smoke too much Knock Out: Don't mix alloys, children. agooddistraction: Whoa Zephra85: My favourite song is coming up! :D Zephra85: Also my fave character agooddistraction: Ahhhh Zephra85: THERE HE IS Zephra85: JANGLEBONES Zephra85: MY FAVE Thenightetc: Yesssss agooddistraction: This protoform guy? Zephra85: Bowler hat skeleton with one eye singing right now Knock Out: What is the human obsession with your own bones? Knock Out: Who started that one? Zephra85: I have no idea Zephra85: I just like the jazz guy and the swing music segments Knock Out: It IS gloriously catchy. agooddistraction: Why can they be naked but other humans with skin can't be naked? Ratchet: ... what have I logged into Zephra85: Most of us aren't as determined as these guys Zephra85: Hello Ratchet! Ratchet: Hello Knock Out: Ratchet. Ratchet: Knock Out. agooddistraction: 8) agooddistraction: That was fun Zephra85: How're the wedding plans going for the happy couple? Thebes: They've taken a turn Thenightetc: Corpse Bride.  That guy is about to get married, but he kept messing up his vows, so he went into the woods to practice and accidentally married the dead girl there. Ratchet: Oh, is that why Knock Out chose this particular feature Knock Out: Ew. Thenightetc: Yes, well Zephra85: Along with another marriage featurette, and some old footage from the war showing June and Fowler's early bonding days Ratchet: ... oh? Thenightetc: Not that that would actually be legally binding, but hey Zephra85: Yup! Just isn't a proper date without fossil hunting and kidnapping, and near-death involving a train. Ratchet: Very creative with the theme tonight, then. Knock Out: Very perceptive of you to notice. Thenightetc: awwww Thenightetc: it's Zero! Zephra85: So precious Thenightetc: oh my god Zephra85: HAH Zephra85: Clever. Thebes: man, their board of toursim must be buried Thenightetc: ...wut Zephra85: Raven eggs: pathways to death. Good to know Ratchet: You would think she'd be more wary about being told to wait for things. Zephra85: She's adorably naiive Thenightetc: Yes, well, the worst has already happened, hasn't it happened, hasn't it Ratchet: Still though Zephra85: You know he ded Zephra85: I LOVE THIS LINE/JOKE Zephra85: Coooold man Ratchet: ... harsh Zephra85: Aw this one's a sweet sad song too thenightetc: Is it okay? Knockout: The chat died on my end. thenightetc: Same, had to reload Knockout: Always a joy, livestream. Zephra85: Gotta love it. (eyeroll) thenightetc: she's giving him a little too much credit, I think Zephra85: AH THERE IT IS thenightetc: "why are you in our house" warwearymedic: And for some reason, it will not allow me to use my own name. Knockout: Likewise. Zephra85: Ugh, livestream. thenightetc: Because you're already logged in or soemthing thenightetc: It didn't end the other session, I think Zephra85: I love how he was creeping so nearby but somehow managed to miss the 'penniless' comments warwearymedic: It's in the script thenightetc: did he just thenightetc: die? Zephra85: Well if he didn't getting run over by the horse and cart would have done the trick. Zephra85: ugh this scene's cute too Wheeljack: Why can't I talk Wheeljack: Why does it say I'm already logged in thenightetc: Livestream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Zephra85: livestream is being a butt Knockout: Because livestream's kicked us all out of our own chat room. warwearymedic: Because human-created technolgy is less-than-reliable. Knockout: Human technology at its finest. warwearymedic: ... I'm not certain that's where those support structures are located on a human. Zephra85: They already paid the caterer thenightetc: Surely it was his parents who paid the caterer. thenightetc: They're the ones with money Zephra85: ture Zephra85: *true warwearymedic: ... that is sort of a glaring plot hole, isn't it? thenightetc: Well.  It's possible they're not actually doing any of that thenightetc: Cake, party, etc., I mean warwearymedic: How are they just noticing this point? Zephra85: He is waaay too happy about telling his friend this Zephra85: (sCREAMS INTO OBLIVION AT THIS PART) Knockout: He seems happier about this than we've seen him about anything. thenightetc: Well, he does get to escape all his problems this way Zephra85: His life does look pretty bleak warwearymedic: Should she not have a more pronounced limp? Or any limp? thenightetc: Cake is not supposed to do that. Zephra85: Her shoes balance her out I guess Knockout: I like how it was a big production to send the two of them back, but apparently this isn't a problem. warwearymedic: ... he has a point. Zephra85: HAA thenightetc: ...Why are Victor's parents there at all, actually Zephra85: 'Where do you keep the spirits?' HAAAAAA Zephra85: You'd think that'd be more of a 'headliner' than an 'in other news' story Knockout: ...Alright. That was adorable, I'll admit. thenightetc: Just slightly Wheeljack: Aww Knockout: That too. Wheeljack: Don't dead organics smell Zephra85: How many heartwarming stories do we get with zombies warwearymedic: I would assume not, as their olfactory systems no longer function. Wheeljack: No I mean thenightetc: ice cold. Zephra85: BURRRN Wheeljack: Do they smell bad Thebes: there's at least a handful.  More if you bend on thte definition of zombie Thebes: and more if you bend on 'heartwarming' Zephra85: The ones with flesh probably do Zephra85: The skeletal ones not as much I bet Knockout: Let's none of us dwell on the implications of the two skeleton children. Zephra85: This just in: children die sometimes. warwearymedic: Especially in this particular period of human history Zephra85: Indeed Zephra85: Indeed thenightetc: awwww Zephra85: ToT Zephra85: Emily is so precious Knockout: It seems to me that this could be easily solved by a threeway. Zephra85: (UGLY LAUGHTER) thenightetc: Well, she's about to be a widow! Wheeljack: Uh oh Wheeljack: Get 'im Zephra85: 'Musn't spill the plot device' Zephra85: Aw, Emily pulling Victoria out of the way thenightetc: ikr thenightetc: *snicker* Zephra85: Awesome thenightetc: *slow clap* Knockout: And you can fulfill it by all of you marrying each other. Zephra85: We need more poly solutions in media dang it Knockout: You really do. Tell your species to get on that. Zephra85: I'M TRYING IT'S HARD thenightetc: Gotta love a story where the villain gets literally dragged down into hell :) warwearymedic: That's a recurring theme for you all, isn't it? Knockout: That part was fantastic. Zephra85: We like the bad guys getting their comeuppance in our fiction Zephra85: 'cause it rarely happens in real life thenightetc: ...Well, that specifically, I can only think of two other examples offhand. thenightetc: Wait, three. Wheeljack: So if we crash the wedding, do we get to see Fowler light someone on fire? Knockout: Only one way to find out! warwearymedic: I don't forsee /you/ being perceived as a "wedding crasher." Zephra85: Miko'd probably be thrilled Wheeljack: What else would I be? warwearymedic: ... someone's "plus one" thenightetc: Coraline!  I haven't actually seen that warwearymedic: That is what June and Agent Fowler have you listed as, anyway. Wheeljack: Uh-huh Wheeljack: Wait what Knockout: I'll add it onto the "to be streamed" queue. thenightetc: ...:) Oh, thanks! Zephra85: :D Yay you get to go Jackie! Knockout: I was going to say, I was surprised you weren't tagging along with Bee. Zephra85: Seriously though Knock Out, consider the predacon fossil. Zephra85: It'll be hilarious. warwearymedic: What now? Knockout: The predacon fossil is happening. Zephra85: YES Knockout: Nothing. Nothing at all. warwearymedic: I shouldn't be surprised at this point thenightetc: Why is pole dancing a "related video" Knockout: Can't have a wedding without pole dancing. Zephra85: Because of the user's history, other things not related immedietely to what you were watching will show up 'cause it's related to something else the user watched previously Zephra85: ;) Knockout: I deny nothing. Zephra85: It really is cool to watch Zephra85: AHAHAHAHA Wheeljack: Oh scrap Zephra85: not that I can blame any of them, this sh*t's hard yo Knockout: Well, that was special. Wheeljack: I can do it Zephra85: :O Zephra85: Omg if I got to see that I'd be throwing so many credits you have no idea Wheeljack: 8) warwearymedic: ... isn't that one from that movie with the fluid-feeding bat-creatures? Knockout: This one? warwearymedic: Yes Wheeljack: Whahoahahaa Wheeljack: jkasdhlaskj thenightetc: Wow thenightetc: ??? Zephra85: Oh come on you can't give Mortal Combat a hard time, that sh*t looked great for the time Zephra85: HAHAHAHA thenightetc: but why was the shark flying warwearymedic: What... Zephra85: There are so many weird shark horror ones thenightetc: GAH Wheeljack: Giant sugar ants? warwearymedic: ... alright Zephra85: Wild Zephra85: Alrighty, I think I need to ditch. I need to stop at the store and pick something up for dinner before it closes Knockout: I should too. This one will be the last. Wheeljack: I like humans Zephra85: Bye everybody! I had fun! Wheeljack: they throw themselves around with no armor and they don't care Knockout: They certainly do get a kick out of being humans. Wheeljack: Bye Knockout: Goodnight, Zephra human! Zephra85: Thanks for the stream, Knock Out! Say hi to the family for me! Knockout: Of course! thenightetc: Goodnight!  The movie was great, thanks. :) Zephra85: And Ratchet, Wheeljack, wish the happy couple congrats for me :D Wheeljack: I should get some cubes ready Wheeljack: Will do warwearymedic: Will do Wheeljack: Night fraggers Knockout: Goodnight, everyone!