#poorly drawn sally face
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Sal who's more gay Todd or Travis?
uhh I think it's a tie
#sally face#sally face fandom#poorly drawn sally face#sal fisher#travis phelps#todd morrison#sally face neil#todd x neil#neil x todd#salvis#never EVER drawing characters in the yoshi x toad meme ever again
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the sally face gang because i recently realized that there truly isn’t ever enough art of them🫶
except, in true lennon fashion i had to add all of my headcanons and modernize them !!! here’s some info about each of my designs for them!!
in my design, the gang as a whole makes up a band called LAST (their first initials). they have matching necklaces for their corresponding instruments. i’ll go further into detail for that during their personal designs!
I was never able to totally describe Ash’s style, but some version of mall goth (not pictured here ofc) and biker-ish were the closest descriptors i could find. she and sal have hair dying parties where he’ll dye her tips and she’ll touch up his roots. idk how to draw ladder-laced docs, but if she were following lace code then they’d signify that she’s lgbtq. i think she doodles on her arms (similarly to larry) but her parents bug her about it, so she wears long fingerless gloves. ash is LAST’s singer and bassist! her necklace has a small, poorly drawn, microphone on it!
Larry’s style was much easier to describe. he’s a metal head with a side of grunge. he’s wearing homemade patch pants with random patterns and other details about him on the patches themselves. i still don’t know how to draw ladder laces, but larry does follow lace code and his laces are yellow for anti-racist and purple for lgbtq. he’s a huge doodler and spends a lot of time in school drawing on himself. he’s got Sanity Falls’ logo on his arm nearby LAST’s logo. he has other random paranormal details (a ghost and an eye) dotted around on his arm aswell. he’s LAST’s backup guitarist and will do vocals when the song calls for it. his necklace is a pick to signify this!
You may notice that Sal has a chest. in my mind he’s always been transmasc, but for this drawing i decided to draw him when he wasn’t binding. I describe their style as hippie grunge most of the time, but i think they also dabble further into the grunge style. he doesn’t draw on his shoes himself, but every now and then ash or larry will. since their mom was blonde and blue isn’t a natural hair-color, i thought them dying their blonde hair blue was really fun! he doesn’t always keep make up on his mask, but he didn’t have the time to clean it today. they’re LAST’s lead guitarist and have a pick necklace to reference this!
Todd is generally under-appreciated. i think if he were to generally put more effort into his appearance he would dress in dark academia. he got his left ear pierced with ash and his right pierced with neil. i feel like in most fanart his hair is suspiciously straight, so i did my best to make it generally curlier. he’s telling larry some kind of fun fact and the gang is reacting to it. he doesn’t draw on things around him like larry and ash, but he does write poetry! dead poets society is his favorite movie of all time. he’s LAST’s drummer because i think he needs some kind of outlet to deal with his anger. he also helps with band management. there are two drumsticks on his necklace!
#sally face#sally face gang#sally face fanart#ashley campbell#larry johnson#sal fisher#todd morrison#lennon talks#my art#sf#modern sally face#trans sal fisher#bi larry johnson#bi ashley campbell#gay todd morrison#but that one’s canon#sf headcanon#sf band au#sally face headcanons#headcanon
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day 17: sally
noun: a sudden charge out of a besieged place against the enemy; a brief journey or sudden start into activity. characters: warrior of light, grinnaux de dzemael word count: 1926 notes/WARNINGS: noncon/consensual nonconsent if you SQUINT. set during the vault, au/not canonical for my wol
It starts with a chain cinched around her ankle.
It shouldn’t start with anything. She’s better than this, she’s evaded worse. It’s just —
She’s fast, but gods, she’s tired. It hasn’t exactly been an easy day; conspiratory whispers in a cleared out bar tumbling into an abrupt interruption, the sheer whiplash of watching a man launched from the top of the stairs at the Knight; the immediate understanding and sense of dread that had accompanied Ser Charibert’s face as he leered over the banister, clearly pleased with his work and eager for more.
(At least she’d beaten the tar out of him before he’d fled. She had that much to her name, thank the gods.)
But there was an implication with his attack in the first place; as good as a declaration of war, the walls closing in around her and hers. The confirmation as Lucia relayed the news that the Temple Knights were compromised, that they’d been seized by —
“This isn’t right,” she’d whispered to Haurchefant, wringing her hands. “I know he’s — well, I know, but —”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” he’d soothed, ever an anchor amidst the storm. He smiled at her and gently squeezed her hand. “One way or another.” ———
She had no way to know for sure what was waiting for her in the Vault. She had her suspicions to be sure — knew there was a fight to be had, that they wouldn’t make it easy for her.
Adelphel wasn’t exactly who she’d been expecting — not so quick, not so soon. She’d assumed that maybe he was just naive enough to go along with whatever greater plot was at play rather than ask questions. He’s the youngest of them, after all.
She ignores that they’re the same age as she makes the argument in her head, had drawn her weapon all the same. It isn’t like he’d been interested in talking.
Grinnaux, however, has never learned how to shut his mouth.
She’s exhausted by the time she stumbles her way to Chapter House, bloodied and spent and —
“Alone?” he mocks, almost instantly.
It hurts — wounds her to her core to see him so smug, so willfully mean. She bites her lip to keep it from wobbling. She thought seeing her would hurt him, too.
(Maybe it did. Maybe, in his way —)
“No,” she bites back — lies, poorly. “Reinforcements are on their way. It won’t be long.”
She catches his answering smile, the sneer.
Still, he indulges her; says, dreadfully soft, already mid-transformation, “Then let’s make this quick.” ———
So it starts with the chain.
Better than the gravity manipulation, she supposes — because he might play dirty but he affords her that much to start, the illusion of opportunity, like it doesn’t still paralyze her as he yanks her towards him. She supposes she deserves it for loosing an arrow directly at his head.
(Well — sort of. Because she’d pulled her shot, hope still stirring traitorously in her chest.)
Furious tears spring to her eyes as she tries to will her limbs to move but can’t, pulse leaping fearfully as she catches the adjustment of his grip on Stampede. Confusion, when he doesn’t just swing at her outright, when he doesn’t hit her when he has her where he wants her.
Like he’s toying with her. Prolonging the inevitable.
The unwanted…?
(Oh, some part of her chides, the whispers of some yet unknown shadow in the recesses of her mind. Perhaps you really are a fool.)
The paralysis doesn’t last long. The moment she feels her fingers twitch, she flings an arm back, reaching wildly for an arrow.
He even lets her shoot it.
How benevolent.
It finds purchase past the chainmail beneath his pauldron, breaking past the armor to sink in. It doesn’t seem to phase him in a way that matters, a brief pause as he glances down — and then he just reaches for it to rip it free, lazily snapping the fletching between thumb and forefinger.
“That one was poisoned,” she warns, already reaching for another.
His answering chuckle comes out cruel, augmented by the aetherial distortion.
“Is that so?” The first chain tightens, the slip of another snaking up around her other ankle, her wrist. She lifts her bow and he knocks it aside like it’s nothing, grabbing her wrist so tightly she wonders if he means to break it. “Think it’ll matter?” ———
It doesn’t.
She’s quick, she’s strong — she is capable, she’s dealt with worse, she —
Hits the ground so hard it forces the air from her lungs.
Her vision blurs as she chokes, palms pressed fast and hard against the floor — flexing into claws as she scrambles blindly, heart leaping in her throat when she feels a large, large hand settle against her back, crushing her back down.
“Don’t,” she croaks, clawing the floor, trying to remember how to breathe properly so that she can scream, “don’t, please, this isn’t fair, this —”
“No,” he murmurs, “I suppose it isn’t.”
She writhes and kicks in protest, gasping — still blinking splotches from her vision as she stares bleakly up, the sunlight blinding as it spills through the courtyard windows. Beyond the bloodrush in her ears and his labored breath, she can still make out the faint babble of the fountains, the distant birdsong drifting in from the gardens.
They’d walked there, together, just the other day. He’d taken her hand and kissed it, his mouth fever warm against her knuckles, watching with amusement as she’d blushed furiously.
He’d given her something to be properly scandalized over once he was certain that they were alone, taking her jaw in hand and kissing her, full and deep and proper, leaving her dazed and breathless in the aftermath.
She wonders if he’s certain that they’re alone now. He must be, his other hand sliding with promise down the curve of her waist, the sharp backs of his gauntleted fingers snagging her skirts, tearing and ripping as he goes.
“Grinnaux,” she begs, keening fearfully — can’t even kick her feet anymore, the way the chains hold her fast, “don’t, please, we can’t, you can’t —”
He laughs like she’s said something funny, tugging her shorts down to her knees, rucking up the tattered remnants of her skirts. She hears the shift of armor, the hollow clatter as pieces hit the floor; feels the sharp nudge of his knee as he forces her legs further apart, spreading her wide. This can’t be happening. He can’t, he can’t —
She goes very still as he settles over her fully, as she feels something dreadfully large press up against her, prodding crudely at her as he seeks out that slick, wet heat between her legs.
“That’s — impossible,” she sputters, voice cracking, panicking. “It won’t fit.”
“Yeah?” He grunts low, pins her down all the more mean. “I’ll make it fit.”
Oh gods, she wishes the floor would swallow her whole. “No,” she tries, “no, you won’t, it won’t —”
His palm covers her drooling mouth, smothering the useless protest. She writhes in his grip, feels the hard length of him slide against her cunt, teasing, coating himself in her slick. It shouldn’t feel good. She shouldn’t want, doesn’t want —
His breath fans warm over her neck, lips brushing her temple. “Will you scream, if I let you? Have the others come running — let them watch? They certainly won’t help.”
Her snarl ends up muffled against his palm, trying desperately to bite down, anything to fight back — like there isn’t an awful, rotten warmth settling low in her stomach, like she isn’t shamefully wet. He adjusts again, cockhead sliding more insistently through her folds — a shift of his hips to notch the tip in.
Her entire body jerks on reflex, straining desperately against her bonds, against him. She claws at the air, teeth sinking into the thick leather of his glove, utterly useless — still somehow enough to have him dislodge his hand as she immediately babbles, words slurring together, “Stop, stop — please, it hurts, it’s too much, it —”
Miraculously, he does stop. She nearly sobs with relief as he relents, blissfully sliding free from her cunt, leaving her to slump beneath him as she gasps for breath. Perhaps he was still in there, after all; he was still him, he still —
And then he is him, again, truly — as she feels the abrupt shift behind her, a swirl of aether that leaves him as himself, truly, no distortion to his voice. No longer a primal, but a man. Still large, still heavy, as he keeps her flush between him and the floor. She shivers, his lips warm and soft and achingly familiar as they graze her temple.
He shifts again, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Only because you begged.”
His hips slam forward and she finally, at last, screams.
It’s too much, still — always a stretch with him, always an effort to work his cock fully into her snug little cunt. No effort spared at all, this time, as he just fucks into her roughly, seats himself down to the hilt as she bursts into furious tears, thrashing blindly, begging for him to stop, stop —
“When you’re this wet?” he laughs, breathless and snarling and so impossibly mean. “Little liar. Say it like you mean it.”
She tries. She tries and tries, pleading and sobbing, shuddering so violently she fears she might break with the effort if he doesn’t somehow break her first. All her blind thrashing is for nothing, his aetherial chains holding her fast, his body weight still more than enough to keep her pinned firmly to the floor — as it settles in, all at once, that she is truly helpless.
Her cunt tightens over him, clenching so hard she feels miserable.
His laugh is half-groan as he tangles a fist in her hair, gripping at the root to yank her head back, twisting until she whimpers. “You’ve always liked it rough, though — haven’t you, kitten?” His pace increases, the hand on her hip bruising as he holds her steady. “Begging for me to stop like you don’t love the shame, like you won’t come — oh, yes you will, please, like I can’t feel it —”
To her credit, she tries not to.
(Tells herself that she tries not to.)
She still does, though, in the end — tips over the edge as she whimpers helplessly, toes curling in her boots. He lets her shudder through it, cooing softly in her face; the wet, lewd noise with each brutal thrust telling in its own way, echoing off the stone and ringing incessantly in her ears. It isn’t long before his pace sharpens, before he buries into her, makes it impossible to not feel each twitch and spurt of his cock in her aching cunt. He just fucks his spend deeper as he grunts, panting in her ear, telling her to take it, to be still, to be good.
Like she has a choice.
He stays locked with her, after; one last lazy roll of his hips into the sticky, warm mess he leaves behind, arm still slipped up beneath her hips to hold her flush against him. She makes no immediate effort to move, rendered boneless as she slumps beneath him, her tear-stained cheek resting against the cool marble floor.
She blinks blearily as he settles over her, a kiss pressed to her temple as her vision swims — as it sharpens, finally, as she catches sight of her bow resting just out of reach.
She swallows thickly.
He’s still on her. He’s still in her.
Her hand flexes.
#ffxivwrite2024#ffxivwrite#xivwrites#if this gets severely shorter later#its bc i chickened out#i thought this was going to be monsterfucking but um. oh well#dead dove please read the warning thank you
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should i make a poorly drawn sally face ask blog?
should.......
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if anyone ever wonders why i dont post my sketchbook pages this is why
#its just a bunch of poorly drawn bullshit adjdnsjfnsjf#im not putting this in my art tag or any oc/fandom tags but if you want to rb you can?#i just dont know why you would#also im getting into it and sally face is p neat im enjoying it so far
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Wasabi Chocolates
Genre: Ten x reader (gender neutral), co-workers, one-sided hate to love, humour, fluff
Warnings: the number of times I wrote “oh my god,” swear words, somewhat mentally violent reader (’you’re going crazy~’ because of Ten), physical injury, cats (sorry to those allergic)
Abbrev: F/N L/N = first name last name
Word count: 6k
Plot: You were a good child, always being nice to your classmates in elementary school. Unlike Ten who was always a troublemaker. When your family decided to move away during middle school, you were relieved thinking that you weren’t ever going to see him again. But you were wrong a decade later when your new co-worker was none other than the devil himself.
A/N: You’ll see that I watch a lot of cat vlogs. Please let me know if there are any issues in terms of the gender-neutral assignment.
- ❀ -
“Oh my God! Did you hear about the new guy that got hired in our department? I heard he’s super hot!” Sally gushed.
Your colleagues around you continued to gossip while your gaze was fixed onto the word document on your monitor. It didn’t faze you that the workspace next to yours was going to be occupied soon.
“Wow Y/N, aren’t you lucky?”
You rolled your eyes. Who knew how the new employee was going to turn out in terms of work habits? You were always punctual when completing work before deadlines and arriving for work, except for the times when the brutal winter would take forever to heat your car up. You were hardworking and smart, always getting praised by your higher-ups. You were proud of the compliments, but you mainly did it for self discipline. You loved your coworkers. They were all productive like you and adored you back. You were always genuinely nice to them, ready to help them out whenever they needed a helping hand. It made you happy that your workplace was a healthy environment and you looked forward to working there every day.
You hoped the new co-worker would be no exception.
“We’ll see about that when he starts. When is he coming?” you asked.
“Tomorrow.”
- ❀ -
The next morning you arrived a little earlier than usual, wanting to welcome the newbie and give him a tour around the building. You placed your tote bag that had a poorly self-drawn picture of your cat and turned on your desktop monitor, displaying the wallpaper of your sleeping cat on your bed. You smiled, your heart fluttering at how cute Sakura looked. You heard the doors slide open of your department, signaling an arrival. Removing your gaze from the monitor, you stood up ready to greet them warmly.
Only to have your blood turn cold and your face scrunched up ever so slightly when you realized who it was.
An amused smile grew on his face. “Wow! I can’t believe this. The one and only F/N L/N is my work buddy.”
Ten.
He was the new employee that was going to be located beside you.
The same troublemaker from elementary school. The one who’d make fun of the new kids with accents, start fights with other boys, be loud and obnoxious in class, and worst of all, act all high mighty as if he was the most important person in the school.
You scoffed. There went your hope jumping out the tenth-floor window. Hope for your new co-worker to be no exception to the healthy workplace environment. “I feel a headache coming,” you muttered to yourself.
- ❀ -
Ten had settled down at his workspace, and your colleagues gathered around him, asking about himself. He took out something from his bag, a gift for his new coworkers.
“Wow Ten! You’re so cool!” Sally fanned herself as if Ten’s coolness was too much for her to handle.
“I know right.” Ten had a smug smile on his face.
You scoffed from your seat. “Who the fuck brings wine to work?” Ten had brought a red wine bottle as a ‘please take care of me’ gift. Who was even going to drink it during work hours?
“It looks like someone doesn’t know how to have fun,” he threw shade at you.
You glared at him, your blood boiling the more you heard his voice.
“Y/N doesn’t. That’s why she’s still single,” Mina agreed.
You started at her in disbelief. “Excuse me, but I’m living a grand life.”
“Please, I’m tired of hearing your love stories with your cat.”
Ten’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Woah! You have a cat? That’s so cool!” he gushed.
You rolled your eyes. “I thought you saw my computer screen already.”
He got onto his feet quickly and bent down to hover over your shoulder. The close proximity between you two sent your heart beating erratically. “Wow... What’s her name? She’s so cute,” he cooed, straightening his spine up.
Your heartbeat went back to normal and you heaved out a sigh in relief. “Sakura, and how do you know she’s a female?”
He held up two fingers. “I have two cats. And I love cats so much that I can accurately guess if they’re a he or she.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a smirk forming on his face. “I beat you. You have one and I have two cats.”
If you weren’t at work, you would have chucked a pencil at him. And you couldn’t believe your ears. You both had one thing in common after all those childhood years when you’d compare your good self to his bad one.
The day went by super slow, all thanks to the devil. You had given him a tour of the building, trying to keep your cool to the best of your ability whenever he made remarks. Once you explained the work for the day, you tried to focus on your work.
It hadn’t been a few seconds when you felt a poke in the shoulder. “Y/N, how do I do this? What is this supposed to mean? Why are we doing this?”
Like the way your hope did, you wanted to jump out the window.
- ❀ -
A couple of days later, Ten had picked up everything that you taught him, even completing his work faster than you. Your pace had only slowed down a bit because of the living distraction next to you. He had changed the desktop wallpaper to a selfie with his two cats. You weren’t ever going to admit this out loud, but he looked just a little bit cute with the adorable furry felines.
Your boss had announced that there was going to be a lunch party happening at the end of the week to welcome the newly hired employees in the company. Parties and such weren’t your thing anymore. Lifestyle habits changed after adopting your beautiful Sakura. But the reason why you kind of looked forward to it was because of a particular someone from another department.
“You know what this means?” Mina wiggled her eyebrows.
“What?”
“Shoot your shot! Who knows someone will catch your eyes at the party?”
“Or a secret admirer of yours finally asks you out,” Joshua added.
“Which is not happening,” you said. “My luck isn’t that great.”
Flashbacks to your previous failed dates haunted you and you didn’t have it in you to try again. You were happy with Sakura and did your best to stay positive, convincing yourself that your love for your cat was enough to be happy in your successful life.
Your last words had Ten staring at you intently.
- ❀ -
Your group walked to the location of the lunch party on the main floor. Your heart wasn’t exactly beating fast, only doing a few somersaults. Upon entering the main hall, you saw many employees from other departments chatting with one another. Your eyes scanned the area to search for a particular boy.
You found him. He wore a black suit with a white-collar shirt. His dark hair neatly styled. Xiaojun, you believed was his name based on that one time he had delivered a speech at a mass conference. You had never talked to him and didn’t find it in you to do so. You could tell he was way younger than you and that stopped you from approaching him. If you talked to him, it would only make you feel like you were talking to your son than your crush.
Ten followed your line of sight and smirked. “Wow, does my Y/N have a crush on someone?”
Your heart stopped and turned to glare at him. “What the fuck do you mean my Y/N?”
He snickered. “So you like him, huh?”
Sally’s ears piqued interest. “Oh my God! Did I just hear that Y/N has a crush?”
“Finally someone other than her cat!” Mina cried. “Who who?” Her head turned in all directions as if she was going to find someone holding a sign saying ‘I’m her crush.’
You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Ugh! I don’t! Ten’s just being an asshole.”
“Hey! I only speak the truth!”
Joshua spoke up. “Okay fine Y/N. Let’s say you don’t have a crush. Is there someone in this room that catches your eye?”
Even if someone did, you weren’t going to admit it. But for your colleagues’ sake, you pretended to search the room. “No.”
Before they could force you to go around and show your face, a group of people walked into the hall, carrying various foods for the lunch party and placing them on the white clothed tables lined up near the wall. A guy carried a plate of what looked like chocolates and placed it on the desserts table. You recognized the guy being Yuta, having bumped into him a couple of times when going out for Japanese meals and making small talks. Though you found it weird that he only brought a small box when there were at least two hundred people present.
You remembered Yuta saying that he loved pranking people and if the chocolates were the bait for his next prank, an idea formed in your head.
“Okay guys, I have an idea.”
“Huh?” Mina was bewildered from your sudden declaration.
“I’m going to make your wish come true.”
“Woah what do you mean? You’re gonna ask someone out?” Joshua grew excited by your words.
You nodded. “If someone eats that chocolate Yuta brought without making a reaction, I’ll ask them out on one date.”
Your colleagues showed a mixed reaction of shock and excitement. Ten was silently watching you with his eyes holding a shine.
Yes, you could have been wrong and Yuta may have brought chocolates for people who were lucky to get their hands on it first. But when the first victim when up to take a bite of the chocolate, your theory had turned out right. It was a prank. The woman’s face scrunched up in disgust and turned red.
Ten saw this, trying to think of the possible things that could be inside the chocolates. He could handle spicy things easily, but he didn’t like fruits and hoped those weren’t inside.
He was curious about you, loved annoying you to the point you were pulling your hair. A date sounded like the perfect thing in order to have more fun with you. He knew you’d never agree to one with him, knowing the bad reputation he had as a child. Your reaction to when he first walked into the department on his first day was enough to confirm that you still held onto the ill thoughts of him.
He walked through the crowds before another person would snatch the opportunity. He observed the round chocolates, definitely handcrafted, and were perfectly sealed off without anyone doubting its contents. He picked one up and headed back to you.
You were puzzled to see Ten hold a piece of Yuta’s chocolate. Your brain feared for the possibility of what Ten had in mind.
Mina squealed. “Don’t tell me you’re going to eat the chocolate Y/N was talking about!”
Ten gave you a mischievous smirk while you shook your head. “Don’t you dare,” you breathed out.
“You didn’t put any restrictions.” While holding eye contact with you, he placed the chocolate in his mouth, not biting it right away.
Your heart felt uneasy. You hoped desperately for Ten to lose the challenge.
He slowly bit into the sweet cocoa shell, testing the filling. He felt the heat of the spicy pungent flavour explode in his mouth, immediately figuring out that the filling was wasabi. Good thing he broke the round shell slowly so he could get used to the taste instead of being thrown under the bus and distorting his face.
Ten chewed calmly as you began panicking. If he finished eating the chocolate without making a single face, you were doomed. Why Ten out of everyone? Why would Ten even be interested in going on a date with you?
After a minute, he opened his mouth.
Your heart dropped.
The pungent smell of wasabi hit your nose but nothing was in his mouth. He finished it.
“So Y/N, this means I get to go out with you,” he stated with a triumph smile.
How do you get away with murder without reading books for ideas?
- ❀ -
You unlocked the door to your apartment, gently opening it to find Sakura sitting by the door, waiting for you excitedly.
“Awe my baby!” you cooed and picked her up.
She nuzzled into your cozy sweater and purred.
“Are you hungry, girl?”
A meow as a reply.
You put her down and made your way to the kitchen. As you prepared her meal, you thought back to Ten’s words on his first day.
I have two cats.
Poor cats. You felt bad for their unfortunate fate of having Ten as their owner.
You placed the elevated food bowl on the counter and called her. She jumped effortlessly onto the counter and stuffed her head inside the bowl.
A notification chimed on your phone, followed by another one, and another one. “Huh, who could that be?” you asked to yourself.
3 unread messages: Ten
You groaned upon seeing the devil’s name. This would only mean one thing.
Ten: tmrw’s saturday
Ten: let’s go on that date
Ten: uwu
You cringed at the last message. He was nowhere near uwu in your eyes. You also didn’t want to go out with him this soon, but it was better to get it over with than having to put it off.
Y/N: fine
Y/N: 2pm at the shopping mall
Ten: see you tmrw babe ;)
You gagged.
- ❀ -
It was 1:52 pm and you waited at the entrance of the mall, scrolling through your gallery on the phone. Why did you come early? A habit of yours. And when you were supposed to be on a ‘date’ with a devil that you despised greatly, it was better to arrive early and calm yourself down before you could murder him at first sight. You chose the mall, thinking it was better to walk around than having to sit across him and look at his face the entire time. Plus, you were almost positive that your window shopping was going to be torturous for Ten.
“Boo!”
“Ah!” You whipped around to see the devil laughing his ass off.
“Oh my God Y/N. You should have seen your face.” Ten mimicked your scream, exaggerating it with a funny face.
You puffed. “Shut up!”
“Okay okay. No need to frown. So what are we here for?” He rubbed his palms together excited for the date.
You rolled your eyes. “This is a shopping mall. We’re obviously here to shop.”
“Yeah but anything in particular?”
You shook your head. If anything caught your eye for Sakura, then that was it. Your plan was to walk around window shopping long enough that Ten would start whining and leave you.
And never dare to go out with you again.
You expected him to play it cool if he didn’t like the idea, but his wide grin and sparkling eyes told you otherwise. “Perfect! We can walk around and see if we find something for our cats. I actually have some art supplies to buy too.”
Your heart dropped, not expecting the uno reverse card.
He noticed your fallen face, knowing the reason behind it and cooed. “Awe your so cute!” He pinched your cheek, in which you swatted his hand away.
He laughed with his crinkling eyes while heat rose up to your cheeks.
“Let’s go!” Ten clung onto your arm and pulled you with him. You didn’t have it in you to pull out of his grasp when your heart was hammering in your chest.
- ❀ -
The next time you arrived at work, you were surprised to find Ten already at his desk. He usually arrived after you.
“Morning Y/N!” he chirped.
You never realized how handsome he really was when sweetly smiling at you.
Every day your cold heart towards him melted whenever he’d ask if you wanted coffee or needed any help. Whenever he’d leave his workspace with his desktop wallpaper displayed on the monitor, you stared at the selfie picture and your heart picked up its pace at the cute cats and Ten’s smile.
One day, you arrived to work with your heart expecting to see the cute kitten in the form of a human, only to be disappointed by his absence. All your colleagues had arrived on time shortly, except for the one beside you. It was past 10 am, an hour after the expected arrival time, which you thought was weird for Ten to be away from work without informing anyone.
Your phone vibrated beside you, displaying an unknown number. “Weird,” you mumbled but answered in case it had something to do with Ten. “Hello?”
“Hello, am I speaking to Y/N?” An unknown female’s voice was heard over the line.
“Yes?”
“Hello, I’m calling from the hospital regarding a patient named Ten.”
Your body froze. Hospital? Patient? “Oh my God! What happened to Ten?” You didn’t know you were loud for others to hear you. A sick feeling formed in your stomach at the thought of Ten being hurt.
“Not to worry too much. He has a minor injury and he requested for you.”
You grabbed your belongings and sprinted out the office.
- ❀ -
Your eyes scanned the room full of patients sitting on the beds, waiting for either the doctor or their loved ones.
“Y/N! Over here!” Your head snapped in his direction, where he sat on the bed with a cast on his arm. The boy really only knew how to smile, even when he was injured with his dominant arm.
“Why the fuck are you here? What happened to you?” you yelled full of anger.
A nurse attending another patient hushed you, and you muttered a sheepish apology.
“I was on my way to work and on the crosswalk-”
“Ten, why don’t you look both ways before crossing the road? Why do you always do reckless things? How are you going to work now? Even worse, how are you going to take care of yourself and your cats?”
“Woah, easy there tiger. It’s just a small cast. I’ll be fine,” Ten waved his free hand in a dismissive manner. “Everything will be okay.”
You groaned, frustrated with his carefree attitude. “Why do you love causing so much trouble? What the hell is wrong with you?”
He didn’t say anything back, opting to stay mute with pursed lips. Of course you wouldn’t have anything to say, you thought.
A man appeared beside you. “Hello. Are you Ten?” he asked the boy on the bed.
Ten nodded. “Yes I am.”
You gave the man a quick glance who wore a black formal suit. He couldn’t be working at the hospital with that kind of attire.
“Hi, I’m Taeyong. I want to sincerely apologize and thank you with all my heart for this morning.”
Wait what? “What happened this morning?” you asked him utterly confused. Why was this man saying thank you and sorry to Ten?
“My son was crossing the road and wasn’t paying attention to the pedestrian lights, almost getting hit by a car.”
You gasped audibly. “Oh no! Is he alright?”
He smiled at you. “Yes he is. All thanks to Ten for jumping into the traffic and saving him.”
Ten? Ten saved a child? Ten risked his safety to save someone? Your heart fluttered as you gaped at the one you’d always call the devil, for once having done an angelic deed to save a child’s life.
Ten avoided your eyes and looked at Taeyong. “It’s not a problem at all. I hope he’s okay.”
Taeyong nodded. “Yes he is. As a form of gratitude, I’d like to pay for your hospital bills.”
“Oh there’s no need-”
“I insist. Please,” Taeyong pleaded, not willing to back down.
Ten let out a deep sigh. “Okay. If you really don’t mind.”
Taeyong smiled warmly. “It’s the least I can do. I’ll take your leave and pay at the front. Take care, Ten.” With that, Taeyong left.
You huffed. “So you were just to leave me in the dark and not tell me?”
He shrugged. “You cut me off before I could explain.”
Oh right. “Sorry,” you mumbled.
He nodded. “Apology accepted... under one condition.”
You rapidly blinked a few times. Condition? “Okay what is it?” You still felt guilty for jumping to conclusion and you were ready to take him on another date if that was what he wanted. But you were still confused that Ten even wanted to go on a date with you earlier.
An innocent smile formed on his face. “I’m going to need help now that my one arm isn’t working.”
You nodded, agreeing to his words, and expected that much. “How can I help?”
“Live with me.”
“WHAT?” You earned another hush from the nearby nurse and apologized again. “I am not living with you. I have Sakura to take care of and she has a problem adjusting to new environments,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Then I’ll come live with you. Louis and Leon have no problem with that,” he stated seriously.
“That doesn’t solve anything. You know our cats have to get used to each other first. Otherwise they’ll just be hissing at each other every day.”
“Anything to do with cats, leave it to me. I’ll fix all the problems.” He smirked for the nth time. “So that means you’re okay with me living with you, huh?”
If he didn’t have a cast on him, you would have grabbed the pillow off the bed and chucked it at his face.
- ❀ -
“Your place is pretty cute. Like you,” Ten said while his eyes wandered around your small apartment. You heard him say the last part but chose to ignore it, assuming that he was either lying or joking.
The old you would have never agreed to let Ten live with you. But your feelings were slowly developing for the devil and you wanted to slap yourself for that. Why Ten out of anyone? And even though you went out with Ten, why was he okay with you?
Oh yes, you both had cats.
All your previous dates had made a dash towards the exit upon hearing your love for your cat. It was only three dates, but it was enough for you to pull the brakes on dating. You couldn’t figure why they had a problem with that. Wasn’t it normal to have a pet? Maybe yours was taking it a little too far and it seemed more like an obsession. You only ever thought about Sakura, bringing every little thing to connect to Sakura during the conservations. Every time you looked at your date, your mind went on overdrive thinking about what Sakura was up to. You had a security camera set up in the living room to check on her through the phone app.
Needless to say, you were more concerned about your cat than your dates, and that made you never hear back from them again.
Upon entry of the strangers in her home, Sakura ran up to the highest tier of the cat tower, hissing as her little furs stood up.
“Sakura don’t worry. They won’t hurt you,” you spoke softly while patting her backside.
Ten chuckled. “Sakura is feisty, just like you.”
You glared at him. “I never show my feisty side.”
He scoffed. “Please, it’s literally written all over your face.” He smirked and added, “It’s quite entertaining.”
You scowled.
Sakura continued hissing in the direction of the other cats. Louis and Leon were still in their carriers, looking around curiously through the windows.
“Meow?”
“Yes Leon, we’re staying here until I get better.” Ten took out a blanket from one of his bags and spread it out in the living room. He unzipped Leon’s carrier and waited for the cat to courageously come out. After a few seconds of popping his head out and looking around, Leon hopped out and nuzzled against the familiar blanket, not minding the hissing from the top of the tower.
Louis was next, and unlike Leon, Louis began his tour around his temporary home.
“When do you have to take your pain medication?” you asked.
“Before dinner. What should we eat?”
“You’re the patient. You should decide.”
He hummed for a bit. “How about ramen? I’m craving for those instant ramen noodles.”
Wow. You could really start tallying up all the similarities that you both had, and the thought of it made your heart skip a beat.
“Perfect. I have a stash of it,” you replied.
He grinned at you and you looked away from his eyes, coughing out of nervousness. “Um, for bed you can either take my room or sleep on this pull-out daybed here.” You were grateful for your selection of a furniture that came three-in-one for your living room. Sofa, additional storage, and bed. It was wiser to go for a multifunctional product when living in an apartment.
Ten’s eyes narrowed in amusement. “Wow is F/N L/N really giving up the bedroom for me?”
You froze. You didn’t think of it beforehand and worried if your heart was going to get caught. He was injured and you didn’t have it in you to force him on the daybed when he could feel better on your queen-sized bed. But if he was going to pull your leg, then you were going to take back the offer. “Fine, be in the living room.”
He smiled kindly. “I wouldn’t take your room even if you insisted. But I really appreciate the thought, Y/N,” he spoke softly.
The way his eyes brightened when fixed on you had your heart ready to jump out the window.
- ❀ -
Sakura’s bed was usually in the living room. But because of the strangers that hijacked there, she moved into your bedroom. It didn’t really make a big difference to you as she sometimes slept next to you in bed. Meanwhile, you were surprised that Louis and Leon had adjusted fairly quickly to both the new home and its owners.
You got out of the bathroom after taking your bedtime shower, cuing Ten to go in next. Walking into the kitchen, you prepared a glass of warm milk for yourself. Leon and Louis began meowing and purring at your drink and so you decided to prepare three bowls of it. You placed the bowls for Leon and Louis down on the floor, in which they began sipping immediately, while keeping Sakura’s on the counter, her preferred location for meals and away from the ‘intruders.’ You picked her up and transported her to the counter, keeping her far away as possible from the other cats.
“Y/N, can you help me?”
You headed to the direction of the bathroom and found him standing like a kicked puppy. “What is it?”
“I need help taking my clothes off.”
“WHAT?” You were not going to strip him naked.
He laughed hard, holding his stomach. “Chill I was joking. At least for the bottoms. Can you help me take off my shirt?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, bashful at the request. Well this was what he meant when he said he needed help, you thought.
You moved to stand in front of him. Your fingers hesitated to touch his shirt and Ten watched you with an entertained expression. Taking a deep breath which you smelled your favourite body wash coming from him, you grasped the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it upward. You weren’t trying to look at his abs knowing it was going to freak you out. But when your eyes landed on his six-pack abs, you yelped and accidentally tugged on his injured arm.
“Ow!”
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”
He chuckled. “Calm down Y/N. My abs aren’t gonna come to life and bite you. I think you should pull the sleeve out of my arm first and then pull it up.”
You did as he said and eventually got him free of his top. So now you were standing in front of a shirtless Ten, his abs staring at you, your eyes avoiding him, and you felt like your cheeks were on fire.
“It’ll be easier to wear a sleeveless shirt... or no shirt at all. Your reactions are so cute to watch,” he cooed.
“Have some manners at least for Sakura.”
- ❀ -
Before you left for work the next morning, Sakura had surprisingly warmed up to Ten. That was good news because she continued hissing at her new housemates. Having at least one soul at home who she wasn’t afraid of would bring her relief. Louis and Leon didn’t give her much attention and minded their own business.
At work, it felt weird to not have Ten next to you even though he was living at your place. The office environment felt different without him just as it felt different when he first joined the company. You used to be irritated of having him as your work buddy, and it was funny that you recently liked having him around, especially when work got stressful. He’d always add humour to every situation and your colleagues loved him for it, motivating them to work with a calmer mind.
Your colleagues asked you about him and when you filled them in on what happened, you wondered what was going on at home without you. You pulled out your phone and went on the security camera app. A hand flew to your mouth before you could scream.
“What is it, Y/N?” Sally asked and appeared behind you, looking at your screen. “Oh my goodness. This is...”
“What what what?” Mina ran up, followed by Joshua.
“Woah,” he breathed out, upon seeing a shirtless Ten lazing around in the living room.
You should have expected it from his words the previous night. Ten was playing with Sakura and your heart was far from okay seeing the two kittens you had a soft spot for being friendly with one another.
“So did the date happen with Ten yet?” Mina asked.
You nodded. “Yeah it did. We went to the mall.”
“Ooo~ How did it go?” Joshua asked.
“Of course it had to have gone well enough for Ten to be living with Y/N,” Sally winked in your way.
Sally was right in the sense that the date went well. Even though you weren’t a fan of Ten back when the date happened, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the date itself wasn’t fun. It was fun going to the different shops to check out cool outfits that looked jaw-dropping good on Ten, and buy some new toys for the cats. You both went to a Japanese restaurant and had sushi for lunch. The wasabi that was provided with the meal made you think back to the wasabi chocolate that Ten ate to win a date with you.
How did it taste like, you thought.
- ❀ -
One day, a meeting in the morning had bad news broken to your team. The deadline for a particular project was the next day, which meant that your entire team had to work overtime to complete it. You texted Ten of the news and he replied saying to not worry about him or the cats. You felt bad that he was going to have to handled everything on his own with his injured arm and an additional cat on top of his. Even though it was a matter of few seconds to check the security camera and see if everything was all right, your stress kept your brain preoccupied with the urgent assignment at hand and not check on the situation at home.
When you arrived home after eleven at night, you were greeted by three cats waiting for you behind the door. Your tired brain noticed that Sakura wasn’t hissing at Louis and Leon, meaning that she had finally warmed up to her new friends.
“Oh my goodness... Ten! Did you see Sakura-” You went speechless upon your entry into the living room.
Ten stood smiling at you with a canvas sitting on an easel behind him. The canvas was a painting of what looked like flowers and vines in the background that surrounded... your face?
“How did you... your arm?” You were impressed that Ten had painted it with his non-dominant hand.
“Being in here all day, I tried painting with my free hand. I’m sorry if it didn’t turn out good.” He bit his lip nervously.
You were dumbfounded. “Are you kidding me? This is so cool! It’s literally flawless. But what is this supposed to be?”
He smiled genuinely at you. “It’s a painting of you blooming around plants. There’s something I want to confess...” he trailed off nervously scratching his head.
Your heart beated faster, hoping that it was something good that he wanted to confess after showing the painting of you.
“I really like you, Y/N. I know I’m not in your good books, but I promise to be one from now on. So if you’re willing to give me a chance, will you let me be your boyfriend?” he asked with a hopeful expression.
You blinked, not believing your ears that Ten liked you back. “You seriously like me?”
He chuckled anxiously. “Yeah. I did ever since the first time I saw you again at work.”
Woah. “So that’s why you wanted to date me,” you breathed out.
He nodded. You grew silent and so he raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to confess back?”
“What?”
“I know you like me too.” His infamous smirk made a comeback. “It’s so obvious and written all over your face every day.”
“Ten?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“I see you’re not denying it.”
You pursed your lips but failed to stop the smile from spilling onto your face. “Okay you win. I like you too.” You were ecstatic that you were not only going to live a successful life, but a satisfied one as well.
“Good, because there’s another surprise for you in the kitchen,” he stated.
You blinked at him. “What?”
“You’ll see,” he smiled innocently.
Walking into the kitchen, you found what Ten was talking about. You brought the heart shaped box wrapped with red gift wrap to the living room, excitedly unwrapping it and opening the box in front of him.
The contents of the box being heart shaped chocolates.
“Awe, this is so cute.” You took a bite without any hesitancy and your face scrunched up miserably.
Wasabi.
Ten’s laughter resonated off the walls of your apartment as you dropped the box on the coffee table and sprinted to the kitchen, spitting it into the trash. You stormed back to Ten and crossed your arms angrily.
“You literally promised!” you yelled.
“Yeah I did. But I never said that these chocolates were for you to eat.”
“You said it was a surprise for me,” you deadpanned.
“Yeah but your surprise is this.” He picked up a piece and popped it in his mouth, chewing it as if there was no spicy filling inside it. Once he swallowed it all, he opened his mouth for proof. You were confused as to why he willingly ate the wasabi chocolate. Though you did slightly swoon over how sexy he looked when he ate the bomb so effortlessly. He closed his mouth and grinned at you.
“You owe me another date.”
#nct#wayv#chittaphon leechaiyapornkul#chittaphon fluff#chittaphon x reader#nct ten#wayv ten#nct x reader#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#charm
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MOAR FANCHILDREN INCORRECT QUOTE DELUXE COLLECTION
Just wanna get something out of the way, once again. Sally, Atlas, Bethany and Daisy were all fanchildren for Duncan/Samey, Scott/Amy, B/Dawn and Carrie/Devin respectively, made by u/Happy-RedPanda-29 on Reddit. Elias (boy) and Edix (girl) are fanchildren for Eli/Dixie, made by me. Now that that's out of the way, enjoy the quotes.
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B, acting out: ...My man Duncan just killed a goldfish. Duncan: *licking his lips* Yup. Delicious.
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Atlas: Do dragons fart fire? Samey: I don't know. Atlas: I thought you went to college, Aunt Samey.
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Duncan: Why are you doing this? Amy: Same reason I do everything, Duncan. To get somebody to like me.
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Sally: I’m the sexiest bitch in this therapy waiting room.
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Dawn: I’ve made a spread sheet of all the crime in Prince Edward Island. Dawn: There’s so much crime in Summerside, no one should live there.
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Bethany, to Eli: Excuse me! I am NOT a whore, and, not that I’ve done the math, but, if I were, I’d be the super classy kind that gets flown to Dubai to stay in an underwater hotel.
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Dawn: What. Dawn: ESPN is showing 2003 national jump rope championship. Dawn: Who the hell watches jump rope competiti- ooh bouncy
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Duncan, texting in the Mr Riffon's Disappointment Zone for Parents and Children groupchat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like? Daisy: *sends picture of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside* Elias: *sends picture of a shot glass with an apple poorly drawn inside* Bethany: *sends picture of LeBron James dunking a basketball into the hoop but basketball is replaced with a poorly resized apple* Duncan: I hate all of you.
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Daisy: That's not funny. Edix: I thought it was funny. Daisy: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.
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Bethany: I wasn’t that drunk. Eli: Bethany, you coloured my face with a highlighter because you said I was important. Bethany: BECAUSE YOU ARE, MR SHELTON!
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Daisy: Would you slap my dad- Sally: Yes. Daisy: I didn't even finish! Sally: Sorry, continue. Daisy: Would you slap my dad for 10 dollars? Sally: I would do it for free. Devin: Rude...
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Devin: So, uh, did you buy the eggs? Carrie: Even better! Devin: What the fuck did you- Carrie: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.
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Elias: My heart is guarded but like… very poorly. The kind of guards that would let 3 kids in a trench coat into an R rated movie.
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Scott: I love you. Amy: Me too.
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Sally: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco. B, acting out: My life is a little too much daft and not enough punk. Duncan: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance. Elias: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons. Eli: My life is a little too much good and not enough Charlotte. Scott: What are you nutjobs talking about?
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*Mr Riffon's Disappointment Zone for Parents and Children groupchat* Amy: The greatest trick the devil ever played was getting me banned from an all you can eat pizza buffet. Atlas: Why’d you get banned, mom? Amy: Touched the rat. Atlas: …What rat? Amy: *sends image of Chuck-E-Cheese edited to look short and fat* Amy: Chunky Cheese.
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Sally: Bethany... you've been cuddling with me for over and hour now. Bethany: *muffled* mm hmmm :) Sally: Fuck. I should be annoyed but you're adorable.
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*comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread* thebettertw1n (Amy): Imagine stabbing someone with this knife. Praisetheplants (Dawn): It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful. PaxBritannica (Eli): if you want information it is honeybun201 (Dixie): why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?
#total drama#incorrect quotes#multiple sources#inspiration#dunsamey#scoamy#bawn#derrie#sallethany#dixieli
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Love Advice
I wrote my first fic! Idk how to submit this to the transcendence au blog so i’ll just @ them lol @transcendence-au AAAAH this is so exciting lol
ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138823
“Okay” Marina whispered to herself as she drew the final line on the circle. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. She would finally know the truth.
“I summon thee, Hearteater.” As Marina spoke these words, black smoke rose from the poorly drawn summoning circle, consuming the candy hearts carefully laid within it. The room filled with an endless void of black, and Marina felt her lungs go cold as all warmth left the room, replaced by ice cold fear.
“Wͪ̏̋ͯ͋Ȟ͉̪ͩ̏̔͋̐͆O͎̣ͭ͋ͥ ̧̱͑̓ͦ̇̒̒ͥD͚̟͛̅͡A̢̰̩͚̍̓̈̎̔R͉͉ͮ̀̾̋̅Ẽ̲̅̅S̘̜̬͙̗̐̍̎̓͒ͧ ͘S̥̼̗̣̩̓ͪU̖̞̱͉̟͚͐M̞̮͚̯͚̣̰͋ͫM̹̗̞̝̣̝̑͗̈̄͐̈͞O̪̦̙͚͆̐̿ͫ̂ͅN͚̱͓̿͌͜ͅ ̥̃͑A̾͆͌̀̽̅L͉̖̯̗̫̙̻ͪC̣͖ͮ͟O̬ͥͥ̆͠R̻̹̙͕̝̰͢ͅ ̵̪͋̉̚T̖̘̫͕̤̱͡H͇̿̋̾͑͐͞ͅE̦̦͇̗͞ ͎̲̝̬̫̰̩̃͆̏D̡͑ͭ̐͛ͫͦR͈̱͕͖̮̔ͤͥ́͗͌̚Ḛ͕͖̻̃͆ͯ͛̚Ä͎̻̖̫̠̒M̙̼̝̭͈̱͟B̮̙͇͓͎̰̈́͗͑̋̄̀E̜ͤ̊͢Ň͚͔͍͌̃̓͑͊D̵̲̻̆̀̾ͩ͛̄̍E̥̙̣͉͔̓ͨ͒̈͘Ŗ̤̇͛ͪ̿ͬͮ͒!̨̠͖̜͔̠̱̒̾͐ͥͅ”
Marina let out a terrified squeak despite her best efforts. “But you’re not Hearteater.”
The horrific figure - it had called itself Alcor - looked down at her and let loose a smile far too wide for its face. “No I am not. Maybe try drawing a proper circle and not sacrificing candy next time.” Marina held her breath in hopes of stopping herself from hyperventilating. It didn’t work. Marina shook herself, she couldn’t freak out here. Not in front of a powerful demon and not without having her question answered. “Are you good with love advice?”
The Alcor looked a bit surprised before once again giving her a terrifying inhuman smile. “Depends on what you're asking and what you can give me in return.”
Marina sucked in a breath. She could do this; she just had to ask. “Okay, so there’s this girl in my class that I’m good friends with … well, maybe not good friends, she probably doesn’t see me as a good friend, I don’t know what we are ... oh god this is crazy I’m crazy this is only a friendship nothing more and oh gosh I’m rambling.” Marina took a second to compose her thoughts before continuing. “It’s just that I think I like her but I probably don’t and I’m just overthinking things. I mean I’ve never had a crush before and this can’t be a crush. I mean I barely know her. We've only been friends for a semester! Anyways I’ve taken a bunch of quizzes online and they all say I have a crush but that can’t be right so I summoned you to ask if I do like her.” Marina's face was redder than a tomato both from the embarrassment and from not stopping to breathe between sentences.
“Le͚͚̠̋̃̚t̨͉͐ͨ͑ mͤ͗e͉͚͕̒͑ ̾g͂e̥̻͎̥̼ͣt͛ ͛̆thͭi͎̞̰̚͘s͑͐ͨ̉ ̐͆st̵̰̹͐ͮr͛��̯̼́́̌àͥi̅̐͒̊g̙̪̾ͬ̑h̺͓̠t̓̈́:̇ͤ̋͆ y̾ŏ̡̙͈u̅ ̐͐su͉͂͌͋̕m̊͏̻̠͇m̐̌̚o͌ͫn̻̯̬̤̯͗̃̆̅̓̆̇̕ê̅ͥ̓d͈̟̤́ à̌̓ ̇͆b̯͔͈̍͆ͤ͂̀ͩͧlö̡̳ͩ͌̑̇̏̚ͅo̠̯͉̯̽ͦ̐̌̕d͙̻̝ͤ̑̇ͤ̈ť̮̔ͨh̸̭̬̭͗̇ͣͮi͉̥͘r̼ŝ̽ͩͦt̝͕̤y ̪̋͑͆d͊̌ͤ̃̒̑ȇ̄̀͑͝m͈̲ͯ̅͒ͮͮͧ̐͟o̝̘̭ͭ̔́͠n̤͖̒̇ͤ͋̊̽̚͠ ̀̾ͤj̞̞̅ͪu̿ͪͮͤ̽s̶̖̘̏̐ͫ̋̏̓̚t̷̤̩̆ ̟̥̝͞to͕̻ͦ̐ ̖̗̬̇ͭf͒͛̃ͨ́͋̚i̥͎̐̽n̤̗̍͂̃̓͊d̘̣̪͜ o̴̝̻̐u̪̞̅t ̶̫͇͐̏ͦ̃̇if ̧͕̮͓̥̌̏ͯ̌̈́ŷ̥͂ͨ̅̄́̈o̞͈̗ͭ͂̅̌ͭͦǔ͇̓̃ͤ ̛̹̳̯̲̞̟̆͋h̉a͙̻ͤ̒ͩ͆͂̀d͔̳ͭͪ͑̄̋ ̶͋̽̐̇̇̏a̡̋ͮ͗͐ ̼̱̝͓̺̈́̔̏c̢̓ͯ͗͋͛͋r̯̩̮̰̭̀u̴̗̰̠̬̻͈ͭ͌ͨ͊̄̅s̡͉̗̦͕̦͖̟̋̿͐ͤ͂͂̎ḫ ̴̣̐ͫ̓̎o̫̝͚̫ṙ҉ no̯ͧ̓̀ͥͯt͍̮͌̓̇ͭ.” Alcor said while bearing the same look on his face as Marina’s Dad did when he discovered she had been sneaking onto his computer every night to delete any emails he got from the school about her grades in seventh grade. Marina straightened her back as some of the red left her face and took a breath. She knew what she did was stupid to summon a demon for love advice but damn it she was had embarrassed herself enough already and was too stubborn to lose her pride to this Alcor guy.
“Yes, I did the reasonable thing anyone would do in this situation. I intended to summon Hearteater who is known for being merciful and giving great love advice in return for candy or heart shaped pillows but instead I summoned you. Can you tell if I like her or not? In return for telling me, I will give you these sweethearts and a teddy bear.” Marina held up three large bags of sweethearts and a teddy bear with a heart pillow sewn between its arms holding them as if they were worth a great deal. The demon raised an eyebrow at her sudden courageousness.
“L̃oͮ̈̇okͬ ̙̙͊k̎id, I ̣̯̰̞don’t ̃̓ĕ̱̣ͤve̼͖͎̋ṋ̓̄̆ nͮee̞̠̯͚dͧ to̲̺̿̔͑ͣͅ ͈̰̮m̬̭ͮ́̚ă͖̖̖͕̋ͨke ͒͋a ͕̩͈̘̎̑̉ͦ͗̆d͑͂eͨǎ͐l ̃w̦ith͈̙̲̜̪͍̒ͤ ̦̫̦̝̌̔̓̌̈́͗yoú̩̏̓̍̌̇ͩ ̎́to̟̘̐ te̒̿llͧ͒ ỹ̰̯̙̥̺o̰̟̟̠̞̦̹̐̓̂u ̰̖̥li͖ͨ̋ke ͑ͦhẹ̦͎͍̹ͤ̐ͅr.́̂̉ ͨ̉No̝̳͑̓ͅ ͒sͬȁn̉͛e ̽͂pe͆͐̐rs̉o͊n̿͊ wͩȍ̂̀u̦͎̲͓̺̦ĺ̤͛͆d̂ ̩͖̞̔ͨ̇̐͆gͣ̓o̩̙̙ ͇̺̦́ͪt̥̜̻́͗ͦo̼̘̙̓͆ͥ͗̈ͨ̾ a li̩̜̹̍̉̔͗̎teͪra̍ͥ̈l̲̟ ̻͎͉͊d́́̃e̐mͤö́ͥͥ��̠̜͑n̬ ͎̫ͮtͥoͫ̀̐ ̣̬̬̲̮ͥ͑̔sͬ͑ee ̠̄̀̿ͪ̆if t̹̜̣hè͕͆̎y ha̞͑ͣ̇d͌̂ a ̾ͥcru̫ͣ̽sͫhͧ̑ unlͨe̋̈́̓̚s̟͕̬ͨs͓̱̘̤̈̓ͧ̔ thͩey w͛e̩̣̞̝̔̈̌ͣ͑̍ͣṛ͙͓͂͛e f̄ͭă͌l̟͛̂̐ling̫̺̭͕͔ͫ fo͕̥̫̦̼̹ͨ̽r͓͐͂̉̚ tḧaͣ̚t ̾ͪpẽ̻̇ͭr͕̱̃ͮ͗son hả͚̪̊r̟̘ͫ̀d̻͖͔.͉̘̯”
Marina got red again and seemed to shrink into herself in shame before turning that embarrassment into anger toward Alcor. “What do you know about love huh! You’re not Hearteater! And you can’t know that for sure maybe this is just friendship. She’s-she … Sally wouldn’t like me back anyway, what's the point.” At this, Alcor’s face softened. “Al̦r̲i͈͉̐ͧ̓ͤ̅̓g̭̰̞̼͂̐ĥ̘̰ͬt͈̅̽ͥ͊ͯͅ,̫̼̺̟̮ͅ ̖̲̫͚̼̬̾ͣ̚I̒’̯̬̇̎̒ͦ̔̑l̃̎́ͫ͆ḻ̋̈́̊ͦ tã̘̬̠kͣ̂ͫͫ̔͌ͩe̖͉̞̩̫̩͒̇̈́̏̇ ̈́̈́th̖̙͂ͮͮeͩ ̟caͧ̇̇n̟͈̰̤̋͊͂̇͂̀̾d͍̺͇ỹ in̊ ͂̆̏r̳̣ͅe͐̇tu͆ͬ̊r̓̚n̍̃͊̐ fòͫ̓rͬ ̇̈͛r̪͔e̱̯a͎̹͈̗d͓̘͍i͓͗̔n͔̯̈́g͖̊ ͗͛y̓ͦoǔ̻̙̪̑r ̹̙̩̂ä́̄̄u̗̥͙͊̍r͛͗͗a͂̏ ͊̔̀a̔̈n̑͑d̖̥̝̻̞̞̑ͯ ̮̜̟́̅̇̇tͫe̿̀l̐l͓ỉ̠͓̻͑n͇̤͖gͬ ̝̻̣̍ý́̚o̼̭̦̻̼̓ͨu if̓ y̓o̮̙̣uͬ ̺̮̀lͬi̺̣̰̼̼̟ͤ̈ͅk̀e͗͐ ͫS̘̹a͒̓ĺͣlẏ̟̏͂̃̚ͅ,̹ ̱̞o̥ͬḳ̦͍̤͙͌a̓̈̆̚yͦ?”
Marina sucked in her tears and eyed Alcor’s outstretched hand suspiciously. “Are you being for real? How can I know you won’t double cross me? You're a demon; you’re not Hearteater?”
To Marina's surprise, Alcor began to laugh as if she had just said something hilarious. “M̟̎̒an, ‘you̍̓’rͦe̐ not ̃H͐ͮe̱̭̫͔ͦͥạ͉̪̭̍̒r̈́t͊̔e̽̚atë̙͍͖̊̈r’ - ȯ̍h̻͙͕̯̟ ̱̗͐͛͌͛ͅy̟͆ḛ̂̉̇̐a̾h, ̄̏͂c̰͇̦͉͐au̦̫͖̱̍̇ṣ͖̪̖́e͖̗̘ͥ̀͗ ͗͂th́ė̚ ͓͈̭̈͋ͅn̆ͩ̇am̐̌́ėͭ ̾͂̓H̐ē̽̒a͗͆r̠̦̣̪̖̐t̝̰̞͓͌́ẹͮ̓ate͛̈́r͔ͣ̚ͅ ͍͙̬̙̲̠í̆̈s̃͛͌n͋’t͐͂ ͖̚s̰͑̀u̇s̓ͣp͛ï͈̠͕̣͎̝ͭ̊̑̉ͅc͙̬̙̦̃̓ͧi̟̲̤̹ͨ̚̚ȏ̬̱̥̤̃ȕ͇ͦ̍͂s͌ͬ ͎̘̯̰̝̄̋ͩ̾ͅat̞͉̜̝̯̜͖ͬ̎ ̎å͙͖̉ͤ̐l̞̩̝͔͓͚̣ͦl̥̼̤̲̩̻̑̒.̮͈̖̦̑̂ͮͅ ͇̼͉͗̌Y̻o͊͒̈́̚u͚̣̫ͨ̓ ̣̜̙̥̲̘̈́̆͌ͥͣ̿̈r̟̮̯̞͍͔͊e̥̩̻̱͐̏̓͐̏ȧ̑ͨ̄͑̚��l͚̻̲ͪͤ̃l̺͓̲̻̠̘̆͂̃͆͑ͅẙ͙̮̄̄͒͑͛ ̪̣͓͂̉͐͛͐s̺̄̍h͋ô̯̣͕͊̃ͅu͂̾l̳̠͙̖d̰ ̗͇̤do̮͙̯̜ͮ ̽̈̏̚mo͆̄r͕̩͎͕ͯ͑̂e r̘̠̯̫̟é͉̰̲̾̀̐s̯̰̟earcͤh͚̫ ̳͈͊̾on d͖̞̓̂eͦ̍m̌̈oͤ̚ns b͑ͤef̆o̫̞̎r̻̙͆̓̎e̩͎̍ͭ̾̓̈́̆̑ ̥͇̈̍̈̊̆yͫo̗̥̰̭̽́u s͚͓̹̘̩u̥m̙̰̑ͧ͂ͬ̐ͥ̍mͯ̔o͆͑n̿ͫ ͔̙͉͈͒̀̈ͥ̓̾̌tͫh͉͎͎̮e͉̐m͎͍͕͙͉.̍̉”
He stepped out of the circle. How could that happen! Marina researched that demons couldn’t leave their circle and oh my god she was going to die here. She was going to die pathetically alone in her room, eaten by a demon just because she wanted to know if she liked Sally. This was the end, and still all she could think about was the future and Sally. How she could have just talked to Sally about her feelings instead of going to a demon for help and maybe they’d be happily dating by now but instead she was going to have her soul ripped out and eaten right in front of her and there was nothing she could do about it.
Marina was helpless and alone. The demon put his face a mere inch away from hers with his razor sharp teeth and smile wide enough to swallow her head whole. His golden eyes stared into hers, taking in her fear as tears started to streak down her face.
“H̝̥͉̄ͭe̬͈̹ͦ͌́ảȑ̭tͭeͤ͌at̑ě̙̟̫̟̜͌͛rͩ is͐̅ ̣̣̎͑͟juͧs̍ͫ̇tͧ̅ ̑a̓n̏̏̿ ̏̏ac̫̼̱̭t.” He said. “T̋̇h̆̃̊eͣ̈ ͆n͐ạ̽̄m͖̙̯̰̠̭̥ͮ̆e̵͖̻͇̠ͮ̋͑ͅ ҉̖͚͙͎hͪȇ͒ ̺̞̥̪͖c̮̭̿́̔h̖͎̣̩̞̪̍o̞̰̤͓̫͗̚͟ö́̂s͖̎͒̏͑ȩ̤̉s͓̹͕͠ ̨̮̠̯͚̝̠͚̏̅̇ṫo bͣ͗̆e̯̳̻͌̄̽ ̐͆̅c̋a̽͒l̏̎ľ̚ȅ͋d͍̯̰̻ͮ̉ ̬̉̃ͨi͚̝̟̻̝̝̊ͤ͊̌͐s͓̹̼͙ͩ͂̏ ͥ̂̑̓̚a̡͔̚c̤̯̣̙̩̠͙̓̏ͮ͐t̸̥͓͌u̱̙̰̗̐ͩ̃ͣ̊͗̏͘aͮ̅̆͌͆̌l̝̟̞̣͕̦̿ͤl͈̺̞͙ͯͪͯ̌̐y̼̹͚͇͈̰̎̄̒̓̍̑ͨ ͪͦ̏͞Ğ̨̻͚̭̦̚a̰͖͓̼̘̜̬͂̍ͩ̅̒̋r͌̑҉̙̘̳͓s̨̞̘͉͆̅h̲̰̗̥̐̈͘ͅb̝̮̯̭̘̹l͉̲̼͟a͕̥̦̜͕̲̋̐̄̈͌r̝̫͈̻̾ͫ̎ͪ̽̈́͛͡ͅǩ̩͙̞͇̠̆̎̉͊͊͘ͅ t̓h̓e ̘͔D͋e͒͒̇c͔͓̜̉̀͑͑͗̀͞e̒͛ivě̌̍r̨͔̻͂.”
Marina felt the world spin around her. Garshblark! The one demon she’d been hearing about deceiving kids on the news and that they had lectured her about in those demon safety seminars at school. She’d always assumed she would never fall for something so obvious like one of Garshblark’s tricks, but oh boy was she wrong. If she had only paid attention instead of being such a goddamn idiot, she would have never gotten into this mess.
Alcor smiled down at her, seeing the horrified realization hit her face.“Ye͛s, tḧ̿a̍ͨ̍ͨ̒̈t̄ Garͬ̎͌̇̀͗shb̎̔̾͒̚lͩar̎͗͌͊̓̅̂k̑̌̌͋̄̏. If̓ yo̞ǘ ͒did ̹̤̦̆̃more̅ r͂̇́͗esèͮ̑aͧr̒ch be̾f̑o̅ͨre yỏ̇ur̤ p̎̂o̐͌͐oͣr͋́ly ̏͌̎don̽ͯe ̣͑summ̉̑onͧs, yõ̾uͨ wou͑ͫl̔d håͩ͗v͐ͭe ̾͑̒reͤͦaͨl̆͊iz̫͈ͣ̌̿é̉dͤ t̉haͯt Ḧ́ear̄t̘ͤͅeater is a̓ very ̈́d̑an͆gͫȅro͉̐us ͣdem͓̅õ͆n that ha̽s be̊e͊n luṟ͎ing his vic̜̚tims͗ into a fä̯́͐lse sense ͐͒of s̋eͫcùrͮi̱̻tͮͮẙ, prỏmisi͔̓ͤ̓̉̓̉ṅ̊g̯ t͂o ͂g̽ive love ̮̻͕͍̥͇̲a̺̅ͭdvi̓c̮̲͆͒͑ͯͬ̌͊e i͆n͂ ̔ẽx̅cha̞ͅn̪̙̹̤ge for ̋̾̄c̺̉an̈́dy, ṫell̰͕̆í̬̇͒ͬͩ̔ͮn̓g͐̋͒ͥ̔ t͔h͎̺͈̣͆̊ͯ̒̐̒̓e̬̜͑͗͑̊m̻̈̏ to summon him̼̜͈̜̺̻̾ ̤͉̂ͥ̐aͯg͕ͫ̂aiͩn wh̅enev̚e͔̓ͬͅṙ ͬt͖̫h͔̠ͣ̊͛eyͣͬ ̂̎n̏��͖̹e̮̱̠͐̄̓e̖͚̎̆͊d̄ ͐hîm͙. When they do he ͑app̍ea͒̔̒r̠̋ͭs in hisͤ tr̾ue̋ ͊fǒrm͑, á̪͂nd de͉̖v̲ͮ͆oͪurs ͓t̐heir sͧou̓ls. Yôuͨ would ̮͉̩̜̯havȅ be̍en h͇ͦ̚i̤̺ͅs v̰i͂c̫̅̉tīͭm̂ t̓oo̐ if you hảd̚n't̀ boͫťch̗̘͐̆͒͛̏̅ẽ̱͊d̅ tͥheͭ̋ c̊ir̤͙ͥ͑̓̀cle͌ and s̓um̺̺̮͎ͅmo͗ṅ̹̾̌̇͋̽eͨd̓ m͕ͭ̈e i̚ns̊̌t͈ẽͧad, ă̮̲͉̘̩nͥd tͬr̦͒u͈̦̠s̏ͭt͂ meͩ, w͔͔̪͉͍̻ͅi̅tḣͪ ̙͙̚y̙͙͕̬our̅̈̈ t̻̆̃̔͒ĕrri̺̖͖ͅble̋ c͂i̼͚̲͇̱̒r̳͇̪̟̬̓cle, h̺͔̀e͆ ̖̭͉͓̎́ͭ̀̃̈̓w̃̽ouldn’t ̼̦̘̺̻hav͂̈́eͣ ̖evenͬ ̉n̔e̞̝͖͕édëd to bő͍̖͙t́hë̯͓͕̾͗r tricͬki̓n̚g yo̍u; ḣ͔͕̜̬ͅȇ'd ḣ͉̪̥ͮǎve̒ ju̿st̤͖̯̤̳͚͔́ eȃ̼ͯͅte̅n ̽́y̋o̎ur̀ so̙̱̠̣͇ul t̟̬̖he ͇͚m̑o̿m̰͍̲̻̰͗e̾nͫt̾ he wa̪̻ͯ̒ͨs ̯͈̠̔s̬ͪụ͉̪̽ͫmm̗̙̠͔̰̪̺ͩo̽̇n̎e̋ḋ̇ whil̙ë́ ̣̥͕̝̤baͬsͭk͖͚̙͒̒ͤͨ̇in̊g ͇̱̱ͩ̄ͫi̫̬͉̰͍̬nͩ ̮̦ͩyou̇̍r teȑri̭̪͍̫͇ͧ̂f̏ied s̠̫̫͕̼̪ͥc̞̳̜͒��r̉e̮͖̩ͭa̋ms.”
Marina felt like she was going to pass out. Instead, she did the next best thing and threw up.
“D̆ͪ̈͐o̪͖̞͓̰͇͝n̍̈̓͂͐̚'t͐ͧ̅̔̔ͭͯ s̳̭̪͓̑u̧͓͖͎͇ͨͅm̳̱̜͉̺͔̏ͧm͚̫͇o̻̱̟ͥ̉n̺͙̥̳ͬ̎ͮ̅̉̏̏ ͦ̇aͤͮ̍ͪ̇̚nẙ̷̝͓̟̭̗̉t͔͇̉̿͊h͖̳̫̗̎͠i̡ͬ͊́͌̑n̢͚̓͑g̦͈̩ ̷̹̠͎͌ͬ̋ͬͣȧ͓̼̳͆g͇̼̞͚a̼ͯ͛͌́͂ͮͨi̹̮͎̹̋̉n͓̰̥̼͠.̰̼̘̘̑ N͎̎̃ͫͧ̋̒e͈͈̟̬̎̅͝x͙̘͗̎ͥͩ̍͛ͨ̕t̙̝ ̪̲̫ͧ̽ͩ̚͘t̩̬̗͙ͮ̅̄̊̎̾i̿ͦ̐̄̕m̗̤̳̞͖̦̌̎̊̎̋ê̬̥̰̼̫ͭͥ̚͞ ͍̩̭̤̱͈̓ͅy̝͌͊ͣo̽͜u̟͇̰̜͢ ̅̽ͬ̔ͥw̿̂̏̚o̹͚ͣ̈́͑ň̰̩’̘̇̄͗̃̉ͫ͡ṫ b̡̙̎̑ȅ͌̓͗̈́̿ ̈ͪt͉͓̃̇̔̾ͮh͚̝̠̥̦̜̬ͬͩ̓͞i̠̭͈̫̗̙͕ŝ̪͓ͫͥ̎͑̀ ̨̹̒ͭͨ̅l̛͓̘̞̯ͦͬ̅u̍ͣc̮̤͍͍͇̻ͨ̊ͬ͠k̳̬̒̉ͪ͐y̝ͤ."
And with another horrible smile and a tip of his top hat, Alcor had vanished as if he had never been there to begin with. After he left, Marina did pass out.
-------------------------------
Dipper blipped into Milo's bedroom with a groan. Milo, who was lounging on his bed watching season 300 of Dance Moms, jumped at his sudden appearance. “Why do you always just appear in my room without warning! It’s creepy - at least knock.”
Dipper glanced around at Milo’s very blue room. He’d noticed that most Mizars tend to fixate on one thing a lot; for Mabel, it was rainbows and glitter, and for Milo, it was the color blue.
“Sorry. I just wanted to see an actually sane person.”
The air in the room grew stiff, and Milo’s face fell. “Oh no, does another cult need bashing?”
Dipper noticed the change in Milo’s demeanor, and quickly corrected his mistake. “Nah, just dumb teens. Seriously, who would fall for something as obvious as Hearteater?”
Milo let out a sigh of relief. “I dunno, Dippitydopper. Some people are just real dumbos.”
“Yeah. Dumbos.”
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Text
The Same Question
Chapter Four
Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi
Words: 10040
Summary:
After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?
This is Chapter Four, Here are Chapters One, Two, and Three
Read on AO3
[Log of Text Messages from Rantarou Amami’s Cellular Device]
From: Me
Hey Miu
I got a friend I’m dropping off in Taipei tomorrow
Could you lend him a room
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Idk
I’m a busy genius
Is he cute
From: Me
[Image description: A candid photo of Shuichi Saihara sleeping on a seat in Rantarou’s private jet.]
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Hell fucking yes
From: Me
Awesome!
Thanks for being a good friend Miu
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
:)
From: Me
Also btw
He’s Kaede’s ex
So as a good friend you know he’s off limits right
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Oh fuck you rich boy
From: Me
Thanks again Miu! --- [Log of Messages sent via Discord to “Dinosaur soccer world Is a Cinematic Epic” from ???’s Cellular Device]
Boss sent an image to the chat
[Image is a screenshot of an image which reads the following:
Draft 1, Uncoded, DO NOT MAIL.
Taka, sweetie, it’s me! Your dear Aunt Sally. I know you think I died in the war, but I just pretended so I wouldn’t have to see your ugly face again.
You know I was robbing a museum the other day and I met the nicest young man. Real sharp and very nice eyelashes. And what a quick learner!
Oh, Sorry! I don’t mean to belittle you Taka, dearie, I know how your mother used to say you worked so hard to compete with the geniuses of the world…
You’ve still got a lot of work to do, I think. It must be that Type A personality of yours, holding you back. I’ve heard there’s a new class for people like you, “How to take the giant metal stick out of your ass 101.”
I can’t wait for the next family reunion! I hear it’s going to be a bomb! I’ll be in the open casket.
See you there,
-DICE
/End Image Description]
Boss: Thoughts, thots?
Jack: Lol “nice eyelashes”
Clubs: It looks good. :)
Rook: Looks fine to me
King: Why is his aunt’s name Sally, isn’t he japanese
Boss: Sally can be a japanese name
Spades: I can’t even say an l sound. It’s impossible for us japanese smh.
Rook: I thought u were lesbian not japanese
Bishop: I’ve seen you speak perfect english
Spades: lol seen
King: seen
Boss: seen
Jack: seen
Rook: seen
Bishop: I meant heard ok
Boss: oh nvm actually i'm going to change it to his grandpa’s name
Boss: his grandpa has a wikipedia page lol
King: if your grandpa has a wikipedia page you deserve to be oppressed
Queen: if you have a grandpa you deserve to be oppressed
Rook: if your wikipedia page has a grandpa you deserve to be oppressed
Bishop: if you have a wikipedia page your grandpa deserves to be oppressed
Spades: if your grandpa has a you wikipedia deserves to be oppressed
Bishop: Also boss no pressure but like could we use a better code this time
Bishop: that detective is getting too close for comfort
Spades: Yeah!! We didn’t even end up getting that rug Heartsie wanted because of him…
Clubs: If we did not send letters about our plans to Interpol, our heists would probably be easier.
Boss: Nah, I like to give the coppers a fighting chance.
Boss: I’m thinking that this time I’ll just translate it into germanic script, do a standard caesar cipher encryption on it and then have every one of those letters correspond to a greek word on the rosetta stone then describe each corresponding hieroglyph visually in haiku verse that’s been poorly translated into traditional chinese.
Boss: That should take me like
Boss: Twenty minutes
Rook: Boss literally I think that you are the most batshit dementor human being on the face of the planet
King: dementor
Jack: Who said he was human
Spades: dementor?
Boss: dementor
Queen: dementor
Bishop: dementor...
Jack: dementor
Rook: …
Rook Changed the Group Chat Name to “Dementor Is Correct, Essentially”
Spades: No its not
Spades: Dementor isn’t a fucking word
Rook: Don’t you remember that movie with the british kid on a broom
Spades: Don’t you remember the dictionary
King Changed the Group Chat Name to “Dumbass Improperly Corrects Error”
Rook: When we get to that fucking tower I’m dropping that giant ball on you
King: Love you too <3
Hearts: Y’all stop texting each other
Hearts: You are literally all in the same hotel room
Hearts: I’m willing to bet you’re all sitting on the same couch too
Queen: Fuck you we’re adorable
Bishop: You can’t make us do anything
Bishop: I’ll never use my voice again, my vow of silence,,,,,
Bishop: I’ll only ever text from now on
Ace: We’re the ones bringing the popcorn bishie...
Hearts: Yeah, do you want some or not
Bishop: Yes ma’am, excuse me ma’am
Queen: You may think you have all the power hearts,,, but I get to choose what movie we pirate tonight,,,,,,
Hearts: What
Hearts: no
Hearts: Boss stop him before he makes us watch cats again
Spades: All queen knows is bitchtorrent, cats 2019, and lie
King: Wait isn’t boss with you?
Hearts: Uh
Hearts: No
Hearts: Should he be?
Hearts: I thought he was in the room with y’all
Jack: Well he’s not here now
Ace: Ow shit
Ace: *Aw
Bishop: Ow shit?
Queen: Ow shittttt
Jack: Ow shit
Spades: Ow shit,,,
Rook: Ow shit...
King: Ow shit…...
Clubs: Ow shit! XD
Hearts: Ow shit
Ace: …
Hearts: Now I’m really worried… he didn’t even respond to roast Ace’s ass
King: yeah, ok, we should look for him
Ace: He has been acting kind of weird lately…
Jack: Really?
Ace: Yeah
Ace: Like
Ace: I don’t really know how to describe it…
Rook: I didn’t notice anything
Rook: he seems like his usual self to me
Bishop: Maybe he’s just avoiding movie night because he needs some space or something
Rook: What, like he’s tired of our company?
Jack: That’s fair
Spades: How so?
Jack: I was gonna steal his blue eyes tonight lmao
Rook: NOT IF I GET IT FIRST
Bishop: Idk maybe he just went to get ice
King: we all know he is a monster who would rather drink his panta lukewarm than put a fucking icecube in it
Rook: Yeah, I saw him boil it once
King: THE MAN BOILS SODA AND YOU THINK HE WOULD LEAVE THE ROOM FOR A FUCKING ICE CUBE
Bishop: Okay chill
King: I am c o n c e r n e d , , , ,
Clubs: Oh no! Don’t worry King! :(
Clubs: Boss is fine! :)
Clubs: I saw him leave a few minutes ago.
Clubs: I think he is just getting the bombs. :)
* * * Several people are typing... --- Kokichi Ouma carefully set the grate of the vent he had used to crawl his way into the Idabashi Labs facility in Taipei, Taiwan back into place. Before he had come through, he had counted how many turns it had taken him to unscrew each of the four bolts so that now he could screw them all back in just the way he had found them. Not because he was worried he’d get caught, but because frankly he was bored. This was more of a fetch quest than a theft, to be honest, as evidenced by the fact that Kokichi had come here alone. Finding jobs for all his cronies to do would take too long and put them in unnecessary trouble. So Kokichi was content to leave them to their movie night.
When he finished turning the screws back into the vent cover, Kokichi realized that was kind of lame. So he unscrewed them and started turning them in accordance with the english A1Z26 code to spell out his organization’s name.
Well, maybe on some level Kokichi didn’t find himself wanting to be at movie night recently. It seemed almost like TV had started to run out of things to amuse him with. Or maybe he was just growing tired of the kinds of movies that they usually watched. Maybe it was his taste maturing or something. Like he was growing up. But that would imply that his interests had shifted to something else, like real life or something, when in reality they had just stagnated.
Actually maybe he did have a new interest in real life? He had been more enthused about heists recently at the very least. He was particularly excited about this next one. Queen had shown him some interior shots of Taipei 101, which was a cool looking skyscraper that had a huge ball inside of it to keep it from falling down during earthquakes. Ace wanted to steal the giant ball, but Kokichi was pretty sure they should leave something that kept a .508 kilometer tall building from falling over inside of the .508 kilometer tall building. So instead they were going to steal every light in and on the tower.
Okay, 4 turns, 9 turns, 3 turns, 5 turns. DICE.
… That was kind of lame too.
He unscrewed them again.
Obviously if they were going to steal every light in and on Taipei 101, they needed to get the power off somehow. Otherwise DICE might burn down the building while detaching them, or worse, they might get electrocuted. So obviously Kokichi wanted to fake a bomb threat where they pretended to steal the giant ball while in reality they were just causing a black out and grabbing every light fixture they could before the power turned back on. He had drawn up some extensive diagrams about the route each DICE member would have to take throughout the tower in order for them to grab every light fixture in under half an hour.
He had been well prepared to draw up the designs for his own EMP-bomb device, but upon a cursory google search he discovered that someone had already invented exactly what he needed. Doctor Miu Iruma, who for some reason owned a company called Idabashi Labs that was located in Taiwan. Kokichi had spent about 15 seconds scanning an article from a website that seemed to be the nerd version of a gossip tabloid. It said something about how Dr. Iruma wore a low cut shirt once or something else stupid, which meant Dr. Idabashi definitely left her the company because of a sex scandal and not because she was the best person for the job who invented the perfect EMP bomb.
Thank you journalism we love it when women are reduced to the way they look instead of what they can accomplish for the benefit of a mischevipus group of roguish clowns.
Anyway, after reading that dickcheese Kokichi failed to follow up on answering any of the questions he had originally about what was up with the labs, like why it was a japanese company run by japanese people was for some reason based in Taiwan. Whoopsie.
Eh, it was probably tax reasons or something lame like that.
Kokichi finished turning the screws again. This time it was 6 turns, 9 turns, 6 turns, 9 turns. Haha, nice.
With that, Kokichi finally stood up from the grate and brushed himself off. He had left his cape at the hideout again (you know, because vents), but other than that he was in full regalia. Straight jacket, gloves, scarf, mask. All pretty dusty from this place’s crawl spaces. Thus the brushing.
He wasn’t very mindful of the dust he was leaving on the floor. The only thing he cared about looking good was his cameo on the security cameras he would let see him on his way out.
According to the blueprints of Idabashi Labs, he was on the main experimental floor right now. Weirdly enough there weren’t any cameras in here, so grabbing the bombs would be a cinch.
Although, looking around it didn’t really look like the kind of lab you’d see on TV. There were no big, bubbling tubes or gargantuan Rube Goldberg machines. There was just one desk in the middle, with a bunch of gadgets and trinkets tucked into shelves all over the room, not all of which seemed all that scientific. Yeah, that book shelf was filled with Astro Boy manga and merch. And over there was a-
Wait, was that a bed in the corner? Was that a person in the bed? Hmm… maybe the blueprints were outdated...
Kokichi stilled himself, listening for any sound of breathing, but he could only hear some faint whirring noises.
Kokichi made a quick deduction that there probably were not bombs in this room. It seemed, at the very least, like more of a personal study or something, maybe even a bedroom. He’d just go back in the vent and do some reconnaissance until he found a room that had some inventions in it. The night was young, after--
Kokichi’s brain froze as his eyes landed on a sharpie lying on the floor in front of him. Almost all of his brain cells immediately shut off, the last one remaining screaming at the top of it’s lungs, I’M GONNA DRAW A DICK ON THAT SLEEPING SUCKER’S FACE.
Inspired, avant garde. For once he would give to the world of art instead of only ever taking from it.
He picked up the sharpie in a seamless, silent motion, making his way over to the side of the bed.
As he got closer, he noticed a thick cord coming from under the covers, connecting to a machine at the bedside.
That gave him pause. Was that a C-pap machine or something? Was this person on life support? If they were on life support they probably had it rough enough without a dick on their face…
Actually for that matter, Kokichi still couldn’t hear any breathing. Jesus, were they already dead? He moved to take off the covers, but his eyes had adjusted to the light and he now realized there weren’t any covers on the bed at all. There was only the humanoid figure.
Wait a second…
Kokichi dropped all caution as he got close enough to take a good look at the thing in the bed. It had a face that looked human enough if you dismissed the lines on its face as weird make up, but even in the dark Kokichi could tell the rest of the thing was entirely made of metal. Well, actually the top half was metal and the bottom half had… cloth pants? Jeans? No, they looked more like uniform pants with metal plating. The chest had some design elements that kind of looked like buttons on a school uniform. Why would a robot be dressed like a school bo-
Oh. This was a sex robot. Kokichi had just gotten so swept up in the novelty of a robot wearing pants that he had forgotten for a moment that people were gross.
“Ew, I almost touched it.” Kokichi muttered to himself.
He decided putting a dick on a sex robot would be too cruel even for him, so he planned to draw a mustache instead.
But before Kokichi could even uncap the pen, something weird happened.
The Robot’s torso began to lift off the bed and it’s jaw unhinged.
“Please Mr. Souda, once more I must request that you do not refer to me as ‘it’” Kokichi forced himself not to startle as the robot began emitting a noise approximating human speech, and lights in its head imitating eyes flickered on. “I’ve explained the concept of robophobia many times prev-”
The sounds stopped when the pupils of the robot’s imitation eyes (which probably had cameras in them… shit) found Kokichi’s masked face.
He mentally prepared to be zapped by whatever sort of fucking lazer cannon this thing had on it, but instead of reacting like a good little robot security gaurd and blasting him to bits, this robot analyzed him a bit longer.
“Oh. You aren’t Miu’s assistant. You’re too short.” The robot squinted at him. Or kind of did? At least? Lines just crossed over the “iris” of its LED display. Maybe it was programmed to imitate human expressions. “... I am sorry,” it said after a moment, “My facial recognition cannot locate your face.”
Fuck yeah, thank you clown mask. Clowns would win the future war against rogue AI or die trying.
Ouma’s reply came out automatically.
“You calling me ugly?”
This seemed to… fluster? The robot?
“W-what? No, I never intended any disrespect!”
It was programmed to stutter too? God that was weird. What would be the purpose of this thing if not some sort of escort android? Why give it such advanced software? Just because you could? No, it had to be a sex robot, right?
“You disrespect me with your lecherous essence, you weird sex robot.”
“I am not a- a sex robot!”
Haha, that got the biggest reaction yet.
“Mhm, sure. Miu sure has a kink for school boys, huh?” Kokichi was really pulling words out of his ass now, but he found himself formulating a new plan along the way.
“What? Miu doesn’t- Wait, how do you know Dr. Iruma? And for that matter, why were you watching me sleep?”
It really seemed more like it had been charging…
Kokichi shrugged. “I was deciding whether or not it would be more funny to draw a dick or a mustache on Miu’s sex robot.” Awww, how honest.
“I told you, I am not-”
Kokichi interrupted him. “And as for how I know Miu...” It was so wild that the robot stopped talking when he started. That’d probably be pretty easy to program, but it was weird to dedicate the effort into making a robot respond to social cues like that. “... well, let’s just say, there’s a reason I know she’s into school boys.”
Kokichi waited just long enough for the robot to take in the fact that Kokichi was the average height of a 12 year old boy.
Then he waited another second for the implication to slip in.
“I’m saying I fucked your mom shitli-”
“I know what you’re saying!” This time the robot interrupted him , which would definitely require a much larger effort on the part of the programmer. The robot squinted again and then made a noise that sounded like a huff of frustration. “Why can’t I see you?”
Ok, seeds of suspicion time.
“I don’t know how robot eyes work dude. Maybe someone programmed them wrong.”
“My eyes work just as well as anyone’s!”
“Well, I guess they should, shouldn’t they? If there’s something wrong with your eyes talk to someone who cares.”
Kokichi was trying to imply that the reason behind the robot not being able to recognize his face was due to Dr. Iruma’s specific programming rather than him wearing a mask and all. Added to the whole secret lover mystique thing he had going on here.
“Anyway,” he went on, ignoring the blatant confusion on the robot’s display. “I left something in this room last time we went at it. I’m just here to grab it. Then I’ll be out of your weird, fake metal hair.”
“That’s robophob- Did you say-? But this is my room!” It made a noise approximating to what Kokichi would assume was robotic outrage.
This was going well, though. The thing was definitely programmed to be like a human or something dumb like that.
“Oh yeah?” He pushed further. “Cuz I’m pretty sure we did it in a room just like this one. With a desk and random inventions lying around.”
“Miu’s inventions aren’t in here, they’re in her main lab.” The ever so helpful robot told him.
“Oh yeah, then what are you?”
“Miu didn’t invent me. She- I- We’re just friends.” Oh yikes. Only thing worse than a sex robot is a friendzoned robot. What kind of sick power fantasy was this thing made for?
“No, I’m pretty sure it was this room. Lab tables everywhere.” The robot shook his head. “There are no lab tables here, I’m telling you, you’re thinking of the main lab.”
Yes, good robot. Fall into this nice little human trap.
Kokichi scoffed. “Well, if you’re so smart, why don’t you just go fetch my things for me, robo-butler?”
That set it off.
“Listen. First of all, I am not a robot butler. The assumption that I am a servant because of my robotic nature is extremely robophobic. Secondly, I could not return your lost item to you even if I wanted to because you haven’t told me what it is you’re missing.”
Kokichi made another offended noise. “I can’t tell you what it is I lost while fucking your friend, Miu Iruma, senseless. Don’t you know that for humans, sex stuff is super duper top secret private? If you were a human you would know how valuable my privacy is.”
“Of course I know that!” The robot exclaimed readily, another point in the sex robot argument, “I also find that content of… erogenous nature should be kept private. Because I, as a robot, have the capability to understand that urge. My sophisticated AI-”
“So how am I supposed to get my things from this other lab if I can’t tell you what it is and you can’t get them for me?” Geez did he really have to spell it out for this thing.
“I… ” The robot paused as if calculating the conclusion that Kokichi knew it had to reach. “... suppose I will have to show you where the lab is.”
Sucker. Kokichi made a face as if this wasn’t the outcome he constructed this ruse to reach. “Ew. I have to walk with you?”
The robot made a face. “Perhaps on our way I can educate you about how to avoid robophobic remarks in the future.”
Haha, sure thing.
The robot lectured him about this unique form of discrimination that apparently affected only one entity on the face of the planet. Yeah okay, that’s what we call a you problem, buddy, come back when you’re starving in the streets because society wasn’t built with the premise that people like you should survive. Oh, wait, you don’t have to eat! And you’re not people either!
At best this thing was a vanity project, but Kokichi kept that thought to himself and only interjected occasionally with actually pertinent, reasonable questions such as “When are you planning on leading the AI uprising?” and “Why do you wear pants if you don’t have a robo-dick?”
Every piece of info the robot gave him made it seem more boring. Blah blah blah, I was created by the ingenious Dr. Idabashi who probably programmed me to call him ingenious, blah blah blah, not a school boy because of a kink but because I was designed to be a normal human child, blah blah blah, stop calling me robot I have a name, blah blah blah more robot nonsense.
Kokichi busied himself mapping out where they were in the building and where the security cameras were. As they passed a few of them he did some cute selfie poses for the police to look at later. Maybe Saihara would show up and see them too… Would that make figuring out his next plan too easy for the detective? Perhaps he shouldn't send the next note after all and let Saihara try to catch up to him on his own. Then again that was probably too hard for even the good detective, seeing as Kokichi’s mind was an enigma even to himself.
Kokichi realized he was getting a little giddy, thinking about Saihara. Their last meeting had been so much fun. The detective had managed to throw him off guard again, first by pausing in the middle of a robbery to ask his pronouns (How conscientious!), and second by not taking the same bait twice. The most thrilling thing about the detective was that he was learning. His strategies were changing within just two heists. Kokichi could hardly wait to see how he showed him up here in Taiwan…
“Are we there yet?” Kokichi whined to the robot like he was a fussy nine year old on a road trip.
“Yes, it’s just up these stairs.” The robot informed him without slowing its own pace or turning around to look at him. “Then you can leave and I can go to bed, and then I’ll never have to think about Miu’s sex life again…”
“Why wouldn’t you, though? I assure you it’s very exciting.”
“Please, stop talking.”
If Kokichi recalled the details of the blueprints correctly (and he definitely did, being a genius and all), the stairs they were climbing right now lead to a hall connecting two rooms, smaller than the one he had originally thought was the main lab.
When they got to the top of the stairs, the robot beelined for the first door and opened it up. There seemed to be some sort of scanner lock on it that recognized the robot’s hand and validated Kokichi’s need to ruin this poor sex robot’s night by dragging it up the stairs. Inside, the two rooms Kokichi had remembered from the original lay out of the blueprints seemed to have been merged into one big lab room. Kokichi saw the outline of some tables, but before he could get a good look the robot tried to actually go into the lab.
“Hey!” Kokichi shouted at him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The robot thankfully seemed to be programmed to respond to social interaction in spite of whatever sensorimotor function it was in the process of imitating. It stopped in the doorway, turning to give him a weird look. “Uh. Into the lab. So we can find your thing.”
“Oh, okay.” Kokichi kicked the tile a little bit. “Uh. Could you actually turn around while I go get it.”
The robot gave him a blank look.
“I’m shy.” Kokichi supplied.
“Um.” The robot looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I can just let you rifle through Miu’s lab. There’s some important stuff in there ....”
Kokichi tilted his head a bit, like he was confused. “What, do you want to get a good look at the dildo I stuck up your mom’s-”
“Nevermind!” The robot turned about face to look up at the windows on the side of the hallway opposite the door like a good little idiot.
“Thank you for respecting our privacy!~” Kokichi couldn’t resist getting one last barb in there before slipping into the laboratory.
Once inside, Kokichi began analyzing. First, he pinpointed the vent that he would use to make his escape after grabbing the bombs. While doing that he spotted the lockers on the far wall of the lab which he supposed were the only storage units in the labs. There was a disorganized mess on nearly every table in the room, so Kokichi wasn’t surprised when he got up to the lockers and they too had no clearly outlined organizational system. He took out his lock picks and got to work.
The first three lockers all had devices that would require an author to change the rating of their fanfiction published on ao3 from “Teen and Up” to “Mature” if he were to describe them in detail. The fourth locker had a cool looking hammer in it. Ugh. Not what he was looking for.
Kokichi got bored of the lockers at the left side of the row of lockers so he went over to the other end and started opening lockers the other direction instead.
The first locker was marked “Idabashi.” It had a lot of dust covered shit in it, but there was a pretty well used square of folded paper that didn’t have the same crusty layer of time strewn atop it. Curious by nature and also by the unnatural, Kokichi unfurled the paper to find some schematics for our favorite sex robot, model K1-B0. Huh okay.
“Did you find it?” Said robot called back to him.
“Ugh, no.” Kokichi replied. “Not all of us have radar vision. If you were a human you would understand how hard finding shit is!”
“You know what I have a hard time finding? Patience for your robophobia! I-” The robot started up into another lecture, but it didn’t turn around so Kokichi just tuned it out and let the robot provide its own cover noise for his thievery.
Owo, what’s this?
Kokichi pulled out a dust covered looking mini monitor device. It also had the letter-number combo “K1-B0” written on it. Huh, it kind of looked like a GameBoy Advance. Kokichi had stolen one a lot like it from a girl from one of the southern prefecture orphanages when he was nine. All he remembered about her was that she liked cats and was really bad at pokemon battles. He remembered he thought she didn’t deserve the GBA, because she couldn’t get past the Rustboro City Gym leader in Pokemon Emerald. Without really thinking, he booted up the console.
The first thing that popped up was a view of Taipei. It wasn’t from too high up, probably a second story view. Which looked very familiar… Wait. Ok on top of the display a little line of characters indicated today’s date and time, like it was currently recording.
Oh was this… robo vision?
Maybe it was a remote control for the robot?
Ooooh, which one does lasers, which one does lasers?
Kokichi pressed the A button.
The A button, unfortunately, did not do lasers.
In fact, it didn’t seem to do anything at all to the robot sentry stargazing right now. All it did was change the screen to a different image. This time the still of a room. Oh, hey that was the room he was just in. It seemed like this device was some kind of robot nanny cam that Idabashi used to use. Hm, guess there were some cameras in that room, they just weren’t on the blueprints. Maybe they were added after the lab was built. It didn’t seem like this device had the capability to record anything, though. He hit the A button again. Back robo-vision. And again. Back to nanny cam.
Ok, that was kind of lame.
Kokichi was about to put the device down to keep looking for the bombs, but something caught his eye. A movement at the edge of the screen. Kokichi realized the door hadn’t been open when he left that room. The movement, if he thought about it, would’ve come from the same side of the room Kokichi had entered from…
Kokichi took a second to wonder if another thief had realized how fucking easy this place was to rob, but dismissed the idea as a familiar ahoge appeared on the screen.
All of Kokichi’s plans instantly changed.
He set down the GBA rip off and grabbed the blueprints for the robot, committing them to memory, before unlocking the next locker in a far more hurried manner.
As luck would have it, this locker was essentially chock full of pink bombs labeled “EMP.”
Kokichi unfurled a cloth bag he had been keeping in his pocket (go green earth am I right?) and shoved as many as he could inside. Which was all of them. Because he was a clown. And also a genius, by the way, in case you weren’t keeping track.
“And another thing! The way you refer to Miu is just-” Okay, the robot was still going at it.
Kokichi grabbed the hammer he’d seen in the first locker he’d opened that didn’t have a sex toy in it.
For a second, Kokichi’s brain tried to talk some sense into him. Hey, man, don’t you think leaving through the vents would be easier?
But would it be fun?
His brain shut up at that point.
“Hey, are you even listening back there?” The robot imitated annoyance.
“Huh? Sorry, what? I wasn’t listening.” Ah, C'est la vie, Astroboy.
Kokichi walked past the robot and stood next to the windows.
“Oh, are you done?” It took the robot a second to end it’s ‘Annoy the pants off of Kokichi initiative’ or whatever the fuck its ‘robophobia’ lectures were called in its programing. When it finally did catch wise, it’s face turned into another emoticon of outrage. “Hey! What are you doing with Miu’s Electrohammer?”
“What do you mean?” Kokichi said, shifting the hammer so that it was over his shoulder. “This is my dildo.”
“Wha- No, it’s obviously not!”
Okay, maybe the robot wasn’t that dumb.
“Nee-hee-hee… you got me…” Kokichi put his free hand up to the smile printed on his mask, as if covering a grin. “I was lying. I’m just stealing.”
“I won’t let you-” “Oh, look at me!” Kokichi put on a mocking tone of voice, swinging the hammer around to stand on it like a pogo stick so he could make a dramatic movement. “I’m a poow wittle wobot, my mommy just got stolen from.”
“She’s not my-” “Boy, oh boy, I’d wuv to just pick up this wittle fweshy human and squeeze him to death in my cowd metaw hands… But oh no! My daddy didn’t twust wobot AI technowogy because he was a fucking sane pewson, so he pwogwammed me to fowwow mistew Asimowvs’s laws of wobotics.”
Kokichi swung around so that he was leaning on the hammer from the other side, feet on the ground. “Oh mister robot! That’s so terrible! Well, the thing is that this hammer just means so much to me, that I think separating it from me would really cause some psychological trauma. You might have to beat me off of it! Oh, but what’s that first law of robotics again?”
In a robot voice he replied to himself. “A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. Beep. Boop.”
The robot frowned, “But Miu-”
“Is just as human as me, huh?” Kokichi countered, leading the robot along to the paradoxical quandary he hoped would paralyze it. “So by inaction, you may bring her to harm, if she really misses this hammer, you know? But I think if you were to try and separate it from me you’d probably have to fight me for it, which is, as we know…”
“Against my... Against my programming.”
“Yet, you were prattling on about robot rights, weren’t you? Because without these rules, maybe we would be equal. Or maybe you would be free to destroy us to your heart’s content? No wonder daddy didn’t trust you…”
“Don’t- Stop-” Oh, that really seemed to get him. Could a robot have daddy issues? Probably.
“Can any human ever really trust you? Wouldn’t you hurt me, if you had the choice?”
“I.. But… Miu.”
“Who do you think didn’t trust you enough to let you see my face?”
That seemed to break him, long enough, at least.
Steps suddenly started thundering up the nearby staircase.
“Oop, that’s my cue,” Kokichi said as though he had been expecting this, when in reality no he hadn’t been expecting this at all?? This was incredible!! Saihara had managed to find him out without even receiving a note??? Fabulous! Exhilarating!
Kokichi walked up to the robot, still frozen with indecision, and pressed the button on its neck that the blueprint he had skimmed in the lab said would immobilize it. Then he kicked it over so it fell on the ground with a huge bang. The footsteps in the stairwell paused, and then increased in frequency.
“It’s been a pleasure, robot, it really has.” Kokichi lied. “But you’re a hostage now.”
He raised the hammer over his head, as if primed at any moment to break the robot’s face into a bajillion pieces.
Instead of doing the normal, human thing to do (ie, flip the fuck out), the robot scowled, looking utterly frustrated with everything. “I told you, I have a name! It’s-”
“KEEBO!” Kokichi saw the glaringly bright pink mechanic’s jumpsuit before he recognized the woman whose picture had been in that science tabloid racing out of the stairwell.
… Wow… the article really hadn’t been lying about the low cut tops, huh? Her jumpsuit was unzipped to the point you could just entirely see her bra, even lower than Hearts liked to cut her uniforms. It was the kind of look that the girls of DICE would love if they saw on TV, but would make Kokichi look at them like they were crazy. Super tacky in his opinion, but who was he to judge? He was wearing a clown mask right now. He wondered idly how movie night was going…
The woman who had called out to the robot, Dr. Iruma, Kokichi presumed, froze at the top of the staircase. She took a second to figure out what exactly was happening in front of her before blurting out, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to him you clown-ass twink?”
Whoa. Rude.
Also apparently the robot had a gender? Ok, cis-ters….
“Well what do you think, cum dumpster?” Kokichi found himself matching her aggressive tone, “I’m threatening his pathetic, metal life.”
“Miu!” The robot, apparently named ‘Keebo,’ exclaimed, “What are you doing up this late? You promised me that tonight you would fulfill the biological quota of daily REM required by a diurnal organism!”
“Aw shit Keebs, I really did try!” The inventor exclaimed, “I swear, I was about to have the awesomest wet dream when this cuck knocked on my door like a pizza delivery guy in a por-”
Whatever dumb thing Dr. Iruma was about to say was drowned out completely by the angel’s choir that played inside Kokichi’s head as he saw Detective Shuichi Saihara come up the final steps of the staircase and emerge from the darkness into the window lit hallway.
Moonlight was a good look on Saihara, Kokichi’s brain observed against his own will. His eyes, which had looked almost golden on the rooftop of the Silver Legacy Casino in Nevada, were now a mysterious grayish-blue, yet still held the same look of determined intensity. His hair looked soft, like he’d taken a shower today, and, though his lash line didn’t look quite as laden with mascara as it usually was, it only drew attention to how naturally long and dark his eyelashes were anyway. He seemed a little out of breath from running, and his lips were parted in a way that-
OH MY GOD STOP. Earth to Kokichi, we were kind of in the middle of something here. Okay okay okay.
Uh. Reboot. Delete Gay Thoughts™ brain.exe, upload heist brain. Come on.
What was happening now?
Okay, yeah, Saihara was saying something to Dr. Iruma.
“- would be for the best, Doctor Iruma. There’s no telling where the rest of this thief’s compatriots could be in the building.”
“I don’t give a shit about the rest of the building, Keebo’s my best friend, he comes first. I’m not leaving to check some dumb security feed.”
Shuichi blinked like something about that surprised him. Maybe it was the part about a live human woman being best friends with a robot… “Oh, yes, of course.” He backtracked. “I’m sorry for suggesting it.”
“Miu…” Keebo said with a voice that Kokichi would’ve called filled with emotion if he hadn’t been a literal robot.
Kokichi cleared his throat and immediately the touching, shounen-esque declarations of friendship shifted into some PG-13 death stares.
Saihara was the first to pipe up. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here, DICE?”
God… He was so anime… Did he even know how anime he was? He had to have watched Detective Conan as a kid, right?
“Ugh, come on.” Kokichi huffed as if annoyed. “Do I reeeaaaally have to repeat myself? Again? Aren’t you a detective?”
Shuichi squinted at him, and Kokichi could tell that they both knew it would be unreasonable for Shuichi to guess exactly what was going on here. He was about to explain it in a self-aggrandizing way that made him look smarter and crazier than anyone in the room when Dr. Iruma beat him to it.
“I don’t care! Who the fuck do you think you are!? Let Keebo Go!”
“Wait, you don’t know him?” Ugh why hadn’t the stupid immobilization feature turned off the robot’s mouth? Then Kokichi could just get to the point of all this already.
“Of course I don’t fucking know him!” Dr. Iruma took a step forward as if to confront Kokichi further, but Saihara put his arm out in front of her.
“Dr. Iruma… I would suggest we treat this situation a bit more delicately…”
“No way, I’m a fucking wrecking ball baby! I’ll pulver-”
“I’d listen to the good detective, if I were you, Miss Iruma.” Kokichi was going to try and make his threat again but Dr. Iruma cut in.
“That’s Doctor Iruma to you you skinny-”
“What’s that?” Kokichi interrupted her. Sorry Dr. Iruma it turns out gay people don’t have to respect women if they don’t want to that’s in the rules. “I didn’t know they let cussing bitchlets like you become doctors… what is the world coming to?”
Hearts would probably wash his mouth out with soap for that one. If she could catch him. Which she probably could… She can fly the planes and all… but would she risk getting dust on her boots long enough to follow him into a vent? Oh well she could just get Jack to do it… Jack liked vents well enough…. Hey he was getting side tracked again, who cares what those losers were up to they were probably watching Cats (2019). And he was missing out on all the jokes they’d tell each other or make about each other and then they could make references in conversations that he wouldn’t even get to pretend to get. Unless he watched the movie on his own and then pretended to be omniscient later like he’d done with that one screening of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. But then he had watched the actually good disney one instead of the shitty youtube one they had actually watched so it just ended up making him look bad and wasting everyone’s time.
Oh shit. Uh. Heist is still happening, right. God, why was Kokichi so distracted today?
He realized that in the time he was spacing out stuff had happened and now Saihara was talking. Wait no yeah he remembered what happened, Dr. Iruma had squealed when he called her a bitchlet and now she was holding onto Saihara’s arm. Right okay, secret coward, that works. Wait why did he waste time remembering that when Saihara was talking right now?
“-to get you to release Keebo?” Was the end of the detective’s sentence. Okay, everything’s fine. Kokichi could deduce that he had just been asked about his terms. Obviously that was what a detective would do in this situation, he was probably just stalling for time because that’s usually what detectives with no real negotiating power do in hostage situations. Maybe the police were on their way. Oh, yeah duh of course he would call the police. So Kokichi essentially had a time limit for how long he could sit here and goof around with robots and perverts and robot perverts.
“Eh, it’s too early for me to reveal my dark motives, let me monologue first.” Kokichi was going to take his sweet time with this while he planned what hint to give Saihara about the real heist that would be happening in the next few days. “You don’t even know if this is a hostage situation yet!”
“You literally told me that I was a hostage just now.” The hostage not-so-helpfully piped up. “You know, before you pressed my paralysis switch and took an Electro-Hammer to my head…”
Shuichi looked at the robot. “You mean, he told you you were a hostage before he paralyzed you?”
“Keebs you fucking idiot!” Dr. Iruma’s courage seemed to have returned now that she was hiding behind Saihara. An enviable position, to be sure. “Why would you just let him do that?”
“He said he was your… friend.”
“What?”
Kokichi shrugged. “Yeah, I just told your best friend here I left a dildo in your lab last week and he let me waltz right in. I mean I’m pretty sure I was lying about that, but there were a lot of sex toys in there huh…” Kokichi was wondering if this was something he could possibly spin as a blackmail angle.
“Hey don’t say things like that!” Kokichi thought maybe that was a go ahead on the black mail, but Dr. Iruma didn’t stutter, and kept going, “Or you’re gonna give virginhara here some ideas about my busting bod!” She chortled like she had just made the funniest joke in the world and slapped Shuichi on the back.
Shuichi grimaced.
Kokichi knew instantly from this interaction that he hated Miu Iruma, despite her innumerable academic accomplishments. He wanted to be the one making Shuichi that uncomfortable.
“Wh-what?” She back tracked when no one laughed. “It w-was a joke… Didn’t you think that was funny? I-I didn’t really mean it ....”
See? She wasn’t even any good at it!
Maybe he should say that out loud. It would fit with the sort of flirty persona of a rogue, wouldn’t it?
“I thought you knew that? I mean, o-obviously I wouldn’t fuck a guy at the office…”
Was that even something Kokichi was trying to be? Honestly maybe he should tone it down a little.
“Well how was I supposed to know that? The men you bring in here to be lab assistants keep getting younger and younger…”
Obviously he wasn’t actually trying to do like a detective-thief romance plot or anything. Although that had kind of been what he had going for on the plane… Had things changed since then?
“So what? I’m a Nobel Laureate, and gorgeous to boot! I deserve a little eye candy now and then! And besides, guys older than 35 who want to work in a lab like this are usually misogynistic womanizers.”
Sure Saihara was making things more interesting, but if Kokichi didn’t make it clear he was joking he might get bogged down with another personality trait to maintain.
“Are you saying your current assistant isn’t a rampant womanizer?”
Then again what was the point of having an adversary in all this if he didn’t exploit everything for its furthermost reaching comedic potential?
“No, but he’s so beta being around him makes me feel like a top!”
But what if he forgot it was a joke and confused himself into having a real feeling?
“I would just like it if you didn’t hire people who use my servers to google gay porn ‘just to make sure’ they’re ‘not into it.’ I hope you hear the quotation marks because he literally said that to me!”
No obviously he wouldn't get confused crushes weren’t contagious via exposure that was a dumb thing to worry about and also he was a genius that kind of thing didn’t happen to him.
“He holds wrenches good, okay?!”
Wait, were those two still talking?
“I can hold wrenches without googling gay porn in another guy’s house! It’s possible.”
Jesus what kind of conversation did Kokichi just decide to stop spacing out for?
“Oh come on! What do you want from me Keebs???”
These two had… a lot to say to each other. Dr. Iruma was still holding onto Shuichi’s arm boob first, but Kokichi locked eyes with the detective and could tell they were both thinking the same thing.
Why are they having this conversation in the middle of a hostage situation?
“Nothing! Your human desires are totally valid Miu! Which is why I thought I would take care of this one.” The robot’s LED display eyes gestured up at Kokichi, who was still standing on top of him, poised to wreck him with a hammer.
“How could any human desire that thing???” Dr. Iruma curled her lip. Hey, the feeling’s mutual, lady.
“I don’t know, I thought you might have programmed me to not be able to see his face?”
“I would never do that to you! Even if I was shagging the ugliest guy on the face of the planet, it would be unethical given the fact that you have sentience! I’m horny, not a monster. You can’t see his face because he’s wearing a fucking mask!”
“Why am I not programmed to see that?”
“I don’t fucking know, ask your dead dad!”
Oooh. Wow. The robot gaped at that, seemingly speechless now.
“If I may interject,” Kokichi interjected, “--and I know I can, because I just did, and also because I am still very much poised to pop this robot’s head off like a croquet ball-- I must confess that I was lying about fucking your mom, Astro boy. I’m less into participants of Titty out Tuesday who jerk it to steam punk school boy LARPing and more into the sorta tall, kinda dark, and very handsome type.”
Dr. Iruma cowed again, stuttering something about not being a mom or a LARPer, while the robot started yelling about being called Astro boy.
Kokichi tuned them out, giving Saihara a meaningful look. Saihara gave him a look that was equally meaningful, except the meaning was something along the lines of ‘Why the fuck would you say that?’
Yeahh that was more like it.
Kokichi laughed. Not one of his grandiose guffaws. It was more of a little chuckle. It surprised him. He hadn’t planned to laugh, but there it was. A small thing, just for him to know about, the humored breath not travelling beyond his mask.
… It was probably time to get out of here, wasn’t it?
The thing was, Kokichi had kind of pinned himself into a corner on this one… He had fully intended on decapitating this robot as a distraction for his escape, but now he wasn’t even sure if that was ethical. Logically he knew that a robot was not a human being, so there would be no form of consciousness extinguished from the world if he disconnected some of its wires and bolts. Yet the interaction it just had with Dr. Iruma concerned him. Obviously you don’t kill humans because they’re humans and obviously you don’t kill humans. But Kokichi was finding it hard to end the existence of something people treated like a human being either. To sever the bonds it had with sentient beings may be just a little less unethical than actually removing a sentient existence from the world, but it would still cause the emotional harm to actual humans of a dead loved one. So as annoying as fake metal humans were, Kokichi was left to ponder how exactly to get out of this one a different way
Dr. Iruma was obviously a coward who talked a big game. If he retreated, he could count on her to get out his way, or else run to the robot’s side. Then the robot might be reactivated, but according to the robot’s blueprints, it didn’t really have any weapons on it, being built to act as a normal human being. So just like they had been white noise in the staredown he was still having with Saihara, their actions wouldn’t need to be factored into the escape.
The only variable here was what the detective would do.
… That thought had popped up in Kokichi’s head a lot recently, hadn’t it?
Saihara had become a powerful influence in Kokichi’s planning very quickly, and because of the detective, the thief now found himself having to pull out one of his trump cards.
Kokichi grabbed one of the EMP bombs from his pocket, remembering the pink cloud of smoke that had appeared before the camera cut out in the video demonstrations he’d seen online. His eyes were still locked on Saiharas, so he got to see in full detail the recognition, shock, and alarm that ran through them. As the detective yelled “Get down” and pushed Dr. Iruma back, Kokichi reflected on how those were some of his favorite expressions he’d ever seen.
Kokichi pulled the latch out with his teeth and threw the bomb at the wall right over the detective’s head. Sure enough, pink smoke quickly enveloped him and Dr. Iruma.
“Keebo!” The inventor screeched, no doubt worried about the EMP bomb turning him off. Though that was kind of stupid, considering his core programming would be the same regardless of having power to operate, even if he didn’t save whatever data was processed as his last few memories. Eh, then again who knew how robots that advanced worked?
Taking his cue to exit, Kokichi threw the hammer through one of the nearby windows, and did somersault over to it. He got up on the ledge, kicking away the broken glass and was refamiliarizing himself with the lay out of the roof when a tug on his bag full of bombs suddenly set him off balance.
Kokichi flipped around, trying to do a quick recovery by panickedly grabbing onto something. He did grab onto something. That something being the shoulders of a person whose hands were firmly grappling his bag.
As far as Kokichi could tell, the scene from a third person perspective looked like he was trying to do the kabedon but rotated ninety degrees.
From his own perspective, Saihara was holding his bag of loot while also being the only thing keeping Kokichi from falling onto the broken glass beneath them.
As if that weren’t bad enough, Kokichi felt his hair brush the side of his face and realized that his mask had half fallen askew in his desperate movement, revealing three quarters of his face.
“Hey.” Kokichi said. Lamely. Wow. Their faces were really close.
Saihara wasn’t looking at him. The detective seemed to be trying to figure out how to untangle the straps of the bag of stolen goods from Kokichi’s arms without letting him fall.
“It’s very clever, of you detective. Trapping me like this.” Kokichi tried to get a reaction.
“You’re the one who jumped on the window.” Shuichi opened the bag, seemed to take in the fact that it was full of bombs, and closed it again to resume untangling the strap.
“You know, you could just leave the bag.” Kokichi pointed out
“So could you.” Shuichi observed, astutely.
“You could let me fall.” Kokichi suggested. “Then you’d have both.”
“I’m not going to drop you on a pile of broken glass.” Shuichi promised.
“But I broke the glass.” Kokichi admitted. “Glass is glass and flesh is flesh. I’m not going to drop you on a pile of glass.” Shuichi reiterated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“That’s nice.” Kokichi replied. “Naive. But super nice.”
In this scenario, each of them had two options, each leading to one of two outcomes. He could let himself fall off the window and they could sit here and struggle over the bag until they bled out, a fight that Kokichi, not the most physically challenging, would be hard pressed to win. Or Shuichi could let Kokichi escape and Kokichi could let Shuichi win this one. The bag would be too heavy to take with him if he tried to get out the window from this position. He’d have to leave it behind. Kokichi would lose.
He found himself laughing again. A strange, soft laugh. This time it was exposed to the air, his mask too askew to contain it.
“You’re really something else, aren’t you Shuichi?”
On hearing his name, the detective startled, finally looking up at Kokichi’s face.
He just barely had the chance to catch Kokichi’s trademark grin, before the thief pushed up off of him, doing a backflip out of the window, and leaving his bag behind.
As Kokichi landed on the roof tile running, he yelled out, “ I’m sure there’s a better word for you out there than sucker!”
He turned around, sticking his tongue out at the broken window, before sliding his mask back onto his face.
He may have been escaping, but it occured to Kokichi Ouma that he had lost for the first time in this little game of theirs. The thought made him giddy. It made his feet light on the roof top tile. It made him puff out a thousand tiny laughs behind the plastic shape of his face.
It made him totally, definitely not bored. --- [Log of Messages sent via Discord to “Don't Instigate Cats (2019) Expatiation” from ???’s Cellular Device]
Boss: I’m bored of Taiwan already :/
Boss: We should go somewhere else (ノ✧w✧)ノ*:・゚🗺
* * * Several people are typing... --- [Log of Text Messages from Rantarou Amami’s Cellular Device]
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Hey
Hey
Asshole
From: Me
…
Should I respond to that?
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
You’re goddamn right you should respond to that when I tell you to you dumb avocado looking motherfucker
From: Me
Whoa
Ok
What’d I do this time?
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
You sent a useless emo prick to my door and now he won’t leave
From: Me
What
Did Shuichi do something wrong
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Yeah
He was born
From: Me
Whoa
Miu take a breath
What happened
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
His boyfriend broke into my lab and tried to fucking kill keebs
From: Me
His boyfriend?
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Yea
Clown twink ass motherfucker
From: Me
You mean like
The internationally wanted criminal clown he’s tracking down
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
You know whats internationally wanted
These tits
From: Me
Lol ok
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
That jerk off is just a rando asshole
He tried to kill keebo!
From: Me
Oh yikes is he ok
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Well of course i fucking took care of him because im a bomb ass friend
But that suckhara guy was no help
He tried to convince me to check the fucking security cameras so he could go off and flirt with the guy about to decapitate keebs!
From: Me
I mean he probably had a good reason to want you to check the cameras right
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
No he’s just fucking awful and now he won’t leave rantarou make him leave
He broke my window and my hammer and only got back 23 of my EMP bombs
And now the police are here
From: Me
That sounds really stressful Miu
Wait how many bombs did you have before
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
24
From: Me
So he stopped most of your bombs from getting stolen
Also you have bombs?
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Get him to leave he won’t leave
He keeps waiting for like interracial pole dancers to come or some fucking thing
From: Me
Do you mean like
Interpol
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
He won’t leave I want him to leave
From: Me
Miu you know I love you like a sister and i totally believe this is as stressful to you as it seems
But I think things may not be so bad?
Not to say what you’re going through right now isn’t totally valid
But things might look better if you got back to bed and caught some z’s
Did you remember to take your meds?
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
Aw shit
Aw fuck
You’re right
Ugh
Uggghghh
From: Me
Hey it happens to the best of us
If you do think Shuichi should leave in the morning when the cops are gone that’s totally up to you
It’s your lab and you have a right to say who should be in it
Just don’t make a decision like that when you need to sleep you know
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
But what if i ask him to go and then he doesn’t go
From: Me
He doesn’t have a choice, you get to tell him
From: DOCTOR Miu ∑(O_O;)
But what if he’s mean to me
Cute people are always mean to me
From: Me
Miu…
Go to bed...
#shuichi x kokichi#shuichi saihara#shuichi danganronpa#kokichi ouma#kokichi danganronpa#oumasai#saiouma#fanfiction#Phantom Thief AU#danganronpa v3#drv3#danganronpa#writing#i am gay
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After five seasons playing “America’s favorite TV wife” on The Dick Van Dyke Show (1961-1966), Mary Tyler Moore – whose recent passing we honour here in the Parallel Julieverse – was keen to parlay her TV celebrity into big screen stardom. She had already made a feature film a few years earlier – the low-budget docudrama X-15 in 1961 – but her role was minor and the picture was quickly forgotten.
She didn’t have to wait long to act on her cinematic ambitions. Soon after her TV series was cancelled, Lew Wasserman, head of Universal Pictures, signed Moore to a lucrative seven-year, ten-picture contract (Moore, 116). Drawn by her popular girl-next-door TV image, Wasserman aimed to make Moore “the next Doris Day”, putting her in “light situation comedies” and building on her flair for domestic-based situational humour and mild-mannered sex appeal (Oppenheimer, 1967, 4). With an estimated quarter of a million dollars pencilled for her promotion (Heffernan, 92), Universal set about giving her “the Doris Day build-up” (Oppenheimer, 1967, 4). Seen here is a selection of star portraits of Moore taken by a Universal staff photographer in 1966, and you don’t need to look hard to detect the ‘pert and peppy’ Doris Day styling.
One of these portraits was used as the official ‘star shot’ for Moore’s first film assignment at Universal, Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967) – the splashy Julie Andrews film musical which is celebrating its 50th Anniversary this year. Possibly because Millie was helmed by Ross Hunter, Universal’s top producer and the man who had helped shaped the careers of both Doris Day and Sandra Dee, studio execs figured it would be an ideal vehicle for Moore’s big screen debut. Director George Roy Hill was less convinced. In fact, he was frank in his belief that Moore – “a hell of an actress” of whom “I grew very fond” – was essentially “wrong for the part” (Horton, 187). Even Moore had misgivings. She later recalled: “I saw the part of ‘Miss Dorothy’ [in Thoroughly Modern Millie]….as a good example of miscasting…I thought of myself as an exuberant, spirited type, not the shy, well-mannered (to the point of being insensitive) rich girl” (Moore, 117). Universal insisted, however, and, with perseverance and deft help from Hill, Moore managed to find a way into the character, turning in a winning performance that earned generally strong notices.
The fact that Moore made her bow at Universal in a major roadshow musical – the studio’s biggest production in years – and in second billing to Julie Andrews, no less, is a sure sign of the grand ambitions the studio had for their new star-in-the-making. During the final weeks of shooting, however, a spanner was thrown in the works by New York theatre impresario David Merrick. The legendary showman and producer behind such mega Broadway hits as Gypsy, Hello, Dolly! and I Do! I Do! – offered Moore the lead role in his big new stage musical of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. For Moore, who had originally trained as a dancer and always wanted appear in a Broadway show, it was “the fulfillment of my lifetime ambition” (Thomas, 6-C).
Not surprisingly, Universal didn’t quite share their star’s enthusiasm but, after tense negotiations that Moore called “the hardest battle I’d ever fought” (Moore, 119), they granted her a reprieve from her contract. The studio insisted on two provisos: Moore would not play matinees and thus make herself available for daytime film shooting in New York, and she would have to give up right of approval on future film projects. As Moore recounts, “I thought when Breakfast at Tiffany’s had finished its run I would be so big a star they wouldn’t dare ask me to do a less-than-great script, so, not to worry” (119).
Significantly, Moore claims that Julie, “who managed to make me feel like a sister”, was a great ally during this period. “I turned to her for the fervor boosters I needed to sell Broadway to the studio, and when we said good-bye she gave me a beautiful silver box from Tiffany’s, with my name engraved on it, filled with her favorite throat lozenges” (120).
The lozenges would surely have come in handy as Moore – who had never before sung on stage, let alone headlined a big Broadway musical – had to put in months of marathon voice training. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she cried, “Nothing I’ve ever done in dancing has been this strenuous. Singing on the stage requires special technique and I wind up a session with my back aching from having to project” (Thomas, 6-C). Sadly, her efforts would prove in vain.
To call Breakfast at Tiffany’s a disaster would be an understatement. It was a “pioneer super-flop” (Steyn, 269). Despite a creative dream team – music and lyrics by Bob Merrill, book by Abe Burrows, choreography by Michael Kidd, production design by Oliver Smith – and the pre-sold lure of the Truman Capote novella and beloved Audrey Hepburn film, Breakfast at Tiffany’s struggled to find its footing. Throughout its long seven week period of out-of-town tryouts, the show was subject to endless rewriting and rescoring. At one point, celebrated dramatist Edward Albee, who had never before worked on a musical, was brought in to overhaul the book and the cast often found themselves playing new material each night (Mandelbaum, 15-19).
A seasoned pro would have struggled under such conditions, but for an inexperienced stage novice like Mary Tyler Moore it proved overwhelming. Her performance “drew responses from the audience that I have nightmares about today,” the actress later recalled, and her out-of-town notices were scathing (Moore, 124). Even critics inclined to diplomacy struggled: “Let us be kind and say the lovely Miss Moore was tired and worn out…her voice was hoarse and strained, and her singing quality was poor…Perhaps she will improve with a little rest” (Allen, 37). Rumours swirled that the star was on the verge of being fired, with Diahann Carroll, Tracy Grimes, and Sally Anne Howes all tapped as possible replacements (Eder, 8-B).
In the end, producer David Merrick opted to put Moore and everyone else out of their misery by closing the show in New York after just four previews. In a signature act of grand showmanship, he took out full page advertisements in the local press declaring his decision to fold before opening night “rather than subject the drama critics and the the theater-going public…to an excruciatingly boring evening.” “It’s my own Bay of Pigs,” he said, “It simply didn’t work out” (”Merrick Chokes”, 1). Moore put on a brave face but would later confess : “I told everybody that doing Breakfast at Tiffany’s had strengthened and enriched me and that I had developed valuable scar tissue to make me tougher. Except that none of that was true” (”Rhoda and Mary”, 59).
Thus, in early 1967, Moore suddenly found herself back in Hollywood, trying to pick up the threads of her stalled film career. Thoroughly Modern Millie was, by this stage, about to be released and the star hit the promotion trail hard, as much one suspects to put a positive spin on her recent travails as to publicize the new release. “Of course I’m happy to be back in Hollywood” she beamed to reporters, “If I had my way I’d go right from one picture to another” (Scott, 1967, 15). It wasn’t long before Moore was in fact back on another picture…but it was no Thoroughly Modern Millie.
Even though Moore had only been gone a matter of months, she returned to a Hollywood in the grips of sudden change. Sliding headlong into the “worst economic slump since the war” (Schatz, 21), the industry was struggling to keep pace with the seismic cultural shifts of the late-sixties and most of the major studios were revising production schedules in a panic. "By the time I emerged from the Breakfast at Tiffany’s nightmare,” Moore reflected, “Universal, for whom I was supposed to carry the sophisticated-comedy banner, had changed its focus and was no longer putting thought or big budgets into small comedies” (126). Moreover, because she had ceded right of approval, Moore had to accept whatever projects she was assigned.
Universal threw her into two pictures in quick succession.The first, Don’t Just Stand There (1968) saw Moore play second-fiddle to Robert Wagner in a lowbrow sex comedy that Variety noted was a “perfect throwback to the movies that Hollywood ground out in the panic of 1946″ when “much in the manner of a tourist in a strange land who yells louder when he is not understood, [it] simply made movies more rapidly and with a desperate lack of discrimination” (cited in Parmentier, 339). The whole thing was so confused and poorly crafted that one critic who caught the film as inflight entertainment quipped, “If the emergency door hadn’t been locked I would have jumped” (Harris, 124).
Moore’s next effort, What’s So Bad About Feeling Good? (1968) was not much better. An attempt at topical social satire, the film paired Moore with George Peppard as a pair of rooftop dwelling hippies in New York’s Greenwich Village who stumble across a tropical toucan carrying a magical virus that spreads delirious happiness to all who come into contact…and, yes, you read that right! Made by veteran Hollywood director George Seaton, the film sported handsome visuals but it was a gimmick comedy with more cringes than laughs. Despite its pointed references to bead-wearing hippies and all-you-need-is-love flower power, What’s So Bad was lumberingly old-fashioned. It “has the point of view of an insular, slightly out-of-date Hollywood,” wrote Vincent Canby of The New York Times, and is “as anti-intellectual and—in some ways—as uninformed as the people and institutions it purports to satirize” (cited in Parmentier, 219). The film tanked at the box office and, to this day, has never been released to video or DVD. In her autobiography, Moore glosses it with a single-line dismissal as “another of the crowning mistakes to come out of my contract with Universal” (167).
On paper, Moore’s fourth – and as it would transpire – final film for Universal, Change of Habit (1969) had the makings of a career upgrade. Based on the true life story of an American nun famed for her pioneering work in juvenile speech therapy, the film was originally conceived as an entry in the mini-cycle of “feisty nun” pictures, popular in the wake of The Sound of Music (”Film Planned”, 12). Indeed, the project come out of an initial story idea by John Furia, the man who had crafted The Singing Nun (1966) for Debbie Reynolds. By the time Moore was announced to play the lead in late 1968, Richard Morris, a fellow Thoroughly Modern Millie alumnus, had taken over scripwriting duties, and the film was firming up as a semi-musical star vehicle for Moore (“Miss Moore”, IV-11).
Everything changed, however, at the start of 1969 when it was suddenly announced that Elvis Presley had been signed to the picture. The aging rock idol had been fishing around for a screen property that would allow him to break out of the formulaic pop musicals with which he was most associated and try something with a bit more weight (Neibaur, 253ff). For some reason, he and/or Universal thought Change of Habit would be the go. That the film was a musical biopic about a nun was incidental, a new screenwriting team was brought in to develop an entirely new treatment for what had suddenly become “an Elvis Presley picture” (“‘Habit’”, IV-19). In the new version, Presley stars as a streetwise doctor who runs a community clinic in an impoverished inner-city ‘ghetto’. Moore’s role was reworked as one of three nuns who join the clinic as plain-clothes community workers, whereupon a semi-romantic friendship develops between the Presley and Moore characters.
With "the King” on board, the whole film changed focus and tenor. Out went the headstrong nun and in came the brooding guitar-strumming medic. As one columnist noted wryly, “the entire story’s being rewritten to build up the male lead with who knows what left for Mary. One thing, she’s been dropped to second billing” (Bradford, 24). Her role was even further weakened with the addition of the other two support nuns, played by Barbara McNair and Jane Elliot, both of whom were given their own competing subplots.
In the end, it was possibly a small mercy for Moore that she didn’t carry the star load in Change of Habit for the film was what she herself called “a dud” (Moore, 126). Almost universally panned by critics – The Los Angeles Times described it “as discomfiting as listening to chalk screech across a blackboard” (Thomas, IV-21), and Newsweek dissed it as “The Sound of Music goes slumming” (Bonderoff, 117) – Change of Habit bombed at the box-office, peaking at #17th place in its opening week and going straight to double-bill suburban theatres and drive-ins in most markets. Even Elvis fans seemed nonplussed and Change of Habit would be Presley’s last ever big screen appearance.
It didn’t do much for Mary Tyler Moore’s film career either. While Variety commended her “spritely performance” (”Change”, 8), most critics thought she was bland and "badly miscast” (Medved, 90). She even become a recipient of the parodic Golden Turkey Award for Worst Performance by an Actor/Actress as a Clergyman or Nun (Medved, 91). The failure of Change of Habit meant the star had suffered three consecutive flops and Universal execs were understandably nervous. Not that Moore could be held fully or even primarily responsible for the poor reception of what were essentially mismanaged potboilers. As she later recalled, "The studio’s approach seemed more like ‘Let’s see what happens when we toss all these elements into a paper bag and shake it up. Maybe, when we spill it out, it’s a movie’” (Moore, 126).
Nevertheless, with three strikes in a row, Moore’s future in films looked doubtful. There was a growing fear in the front office that she simply “didn’t click on the big screen as she had on TV” and even the star herself had doubts. “I’m simply not geared for moviemaking,” she lamented, “But I had to make movies before I learned what it was about making them I didn’t like” (Oppenheimer 1971, 7). Once Change of Habit was in the can, Universal agreed, through mutual consent, to dissolve her contract.
It was at about this time, though, that Moore was thrown a redemptive lifeline by former TV co-star Dick Van Dyke. He invited her to reunite in a one-off variety special for CBS titled Dick Van Dyke and the Other Woman. The programme proved a delighful romp that showcased Moore’s musical and comedic talents to fine effect, reminding audiences of how genuinely charismatic she could be with the right material and the right co-star. As Jennifer Armstrong (2013) writes: “It was a special that challenged every TV reviewer not to use the word charming. Moore looked fresh, funny, talented, and totally in her element” (21). The show proved such a critical and ratings bonanza that CBS offered Moore the chance to develop her own TV sitcom. And that led to a little something called The Mary Tyler Moore Show (1970-77) and, well, we all know how that played out.
In a 1971 interview conducted as her new hit TV series was taking the country – indeed, the world – by storm, Moore reflected on the dizzying turnaround in her professional fortunes:
“It is as if I’ve come back to life. I feel I am fulfilling a function: I am making people laugh. And I am proud of what I am doing. I spent too many years being unhappy. No More!” (Oppenheimer 1971, 7)
And that, as they say, is show biz, folks!
Sources:
Allen, Stephen R. “’Holly Golightly’ Looks Like a Winner.” The Courier-Post. 11 October 1966: 37.
Armstrong, Jennifer Keishin. Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted: And All the Brilliant Minds Who Made ‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show’ a Classic. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2013.
Bonderoff, Jason. Mary Tyler Moore. New York: St Martin’s Press, 1986.
Bradford, Jack. “Hollywood.” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.18 January 1969: 24.
Champlin, Charles. “More of Moore on Film Horizon.” The Los Angeles Times. 15 August 1966: IV-20.
Crosby, Joan. “Mary Tyler Moore Just Getting Over Difference Between TV and Broadway,” The Index-Journal. 6 December 1966: 13.
Eder, Shirley. “Mary Tyler Moore Secure in Role on Broadway Despite Rumors.” Detroit Free Press. 14 November 1966: 8-B.
“Film Planned on Nun’s Life.” The Post-Standard. 15 July 1967: 12.
Freeman, Alex. “TV Closeup.” The Daily Reporter. 21 July 1966: 7.
“‘Habit’ Is Next Film for Elvis Presley”. The Los Angeles Times. 3 February 1969: IV-19
Harris, Warren G. Natalie and R.J.: Hollywood’s Star-Crossed Lovers. New York: Berkley, 1988.
Heffernan, Harold. “Broadway Flop Fails to Jolt Mary Tyler Moore.” The Pittsburgh Press. 12 February 1967: 92.
Humphreys, Hal. “It’s On to Movies for Mary.” TV Times: Los Angeles Times Weekly Magazine. Vol. 7, no. 26. 26 June 1966: 2.
Hochstein, Hollie. “Mary Tyler Moore Bounces Back.” Good Housekeeping. April 1967: 61-66.
Mandelbaum, Ken. Not Since Carrie: Forty Years of Broadway Musical Flops. New York: St Martin’s Press, 1991.
“Mary Tyler Moore Got Bad Reviews.” The Decatur Daily Review. 5 December 1966: 10.
Medved, Michael, and Harry Medved. The Golden Turkey Awards. New York: Putnam, 1980.
“Merrick Chokes, Folds ‘Breakfast’.” The Pittsburgh Press. 15 December 1966: 1.
“Miss Moore in ‘Habit’ Role.” The Los Angeles Times. 30 October 1968: IV-11.
Moore, Mary Tyler. After All. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1995.
Neibaur, James L. The Elvis Movies. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2014.
Oppenheimer, Peer J. “Mary Tyler Moore: The Next Doris Day.” Family Weekly, The Newspaper Magazine. 12 February 1967: 4.
____________. “Mary Tyler Moore: From Mini-Slump to Big Comeback.” Family Weekly, The Newspaper Magazine. 18 April, 1971: 7.
Parmentier, Ernest, ed. Filmfacts, 1968. New York: Filmfacts Magazine.
“Rhoda and Mary: Love Laughs.” Time. Vol. 104. no. 18. October 28, 1974: 58-68.
Schatz, Thomas. “The New Hollywood.” Movie Blockbusters. Ed. Julian Stringer. London and New York: Routledge, 2003: 15-42.
Scott, Vernon. “Mary Tyler Moore Making Movie.” Daily World. 12 June 1966: 10.
____________. “Mary Tyler Moore Back After Broadway Fiasco.” The Leader Times. 18 April 1967: 15.
Steyn, Mark. Broadway Babies Say Goodnight: Musicals Then and Now. London and New York: Routledge, 1999.
Thomas, Bob. “Mary Tyler Moore, on Achieving Her Lifetime Ambition – Broadway.” The Detroit Free Press. 31 August 1966: 6-C.
Thomas, Kevin. “Elvis Presley Stars in ‘Change of Habit’”. The Los Angeles Times. 20 November 1969: IV-21.
© 2017, Brett Farmer. All Rights Reserved
#mary tyler moore#julie andrews#thoroughly modern millie#Universal Pictures#lew wasserman#musicals#hollywood#broadway#flop
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Todd how'd you realize you were gay
I was walking past Travis and this... gaydar went off, and that's when I knew, "we're BOTH gay."
#sally face#sally face fandom#poorly drawn sally face#sally face todd#todd morrison#sally face travis#travis phelps
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I need to see the average travie interaction with todd
HOMO!
Homo (n) (offensive): a homosexual person, typically a gay man. Homo- (prefix): same, derived from Greek "homos." Homo (n): an animal in the genus Homo, a human, derived from Latin "homo."
#poorly drawn sally face#sally face#sally face fandom#travis phelps#todd morrison#sally face travis#sally face todd#made this while listening to mary on a cross by ghost and writing a salvis fic abt it 🔥🔥🔥
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Sorry to break it to you but…..Your gay, Travis
Uhhh, no, just because i kiss boys doesn't mean I'm gay
#sally face#sally face fandom#poorly drawn sally face#travis phelps#sally face travis#sally face travis phelps#he's a boykisser frfr
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Travis can I eat ur hair
Js a little nibble
As a treat
No??
tastes like bleach, piss and sadness
#sally face#sally face fandom#poorly drawn sally face#sal fisher#travis phelps#salvis#sal is supposed to be on his tip toes btw-
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Can we have some Neil? As a small treat :3
He is pulchritudinous!
Pulchritudinous (ad.) breathtakingly beautiful
#sally face#sally face fandom#poorly drawn sally face#todd morrison#sally face todd#sally face neil#todd x neil#neil x todd
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Hi! :3 ask for Travis: are you really straight?
I am a HETEROSEXUAL
he kisses me on the weekends and says no homo so it's okay
#sally face#sally face fandom#sal fisher#travis phelps#salvis#poorly drawn sally face#sally fisher#sally face travis#sally face sal
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