#Top ten reasons why I love my brain/srs

[inspirationallybored]

(Ok this is a non-serious, completely joke post that my brain cooked up at 12 am and is plaguing my system since, so now you should suffer too/j)

Yall know about learning disabilities. Let me introduce to you 'hyper abilities', aka brain is still weird but no one questions it because it does more good.

So, people have dyslexia, where they have difficulty in reading words. The opposite of this is 'mental autocorrect', which is basically just reading and correcting all grammatical and spelling mistakes.

Symptoms include perfect spelling and grammar (even while speaking), extremely fast reading speed (as opposed to slow reading speed observed in dyslexia).

Side effects include 'incorrect corrections', where the brain misinterprets words and spellings consistently due to predictive filling. For example: reading 'dyslexia' as 'dylexia', 'intestine' as 'Einstein', pronouncing 'dyscalculia' as 'dyscalculacia', and more (and confidently so).

2. Dyscalculia? Nah, 'brain calculator'. Solve long arithmetic calculations and complex algebra in your head, see numbers solve themselves instead of jumbling in front of you.

Symptoms may include being good at finance, solving multiplications and division quickly, doing maths in head.

However, side effects may include the calculator in your brain being from the 1800s, and a stark inability to solve questions by writing.

There should be more, but I fell asleep.

[janiedean]

I wanna hear your controversial opera opinions if you have any

OH I THINK I DO *cough* *waits for rotten tomatoes*

la donna è mobile is the most overrated aria in the history of arias

subsequently everyone in rigoletto except sparafucile behaves in ways so lacking of braincells there's a reason why I never cry about it (I mean I love rigoletto but I hate that aria and no one uses their brain in it I maintain)

I find puccini in general terribly overrated and you won't catch me paying to actually see puccini operas in the theater sorry

in that brand of unpopular, m. butterfly the movie >>>> madama butterfly the opera and rent > la boheme sorry X°D

srs rossini operas are vastly underrated and would eat most more famous srs stuff under the table and honestly the french guillaume tell >>> mostly anything

rossini's otello > verdi's

un ballo in maschera is verdi's best opera I'm dying on that hill

mozart > everyone else anyway

the fact that le comte ory isn't staged often is a crime against good taste

I tend to prefer modern stagings to classical ones even if the modern one is based on supposedly outrageous readings of the thing (PETER SELLARS IN MY HEART FOREVER but also micheletto in my heart forever)

I absolutely detest the whole 'ah singers today aren't as good as in the forties/fifties/sixties/good singing died with pavarotti and sutherland' like for once today people don't perform operas cutting 1/4th of them that should be good for something

in that unpopular opinion, I don't particularly like pavarotti, I absolutely don't like sutherland very much and I think callas was good for drama but her barbiere di siviglia recording is sung in a way that irks me and she's not like probably cranking my top ten female opera singers anyway *hides from tomatoes*

in that same opinion, corelli >>>> pavarotti every other day

les contes d'hoffmann should be way more performed/famous

don giovanni is not a villain and I'm dying on that hill (idt this is unpopular with critics but it's unpopular with the kids)

don giovanni and leporello are imvho implied to be canonically fucking or to have canonically fucked and I say it because the text imvho implies so and no way da ponte out of anyone didn't know exactly what he was doing nor mozart didn't understand that either

ppl should listen to more donizetti/donizetti should be performed more beyond lucia and elisir and the fact that idk anna bolena rests in WE PERFORM IT AT THE MET ONCE EVERY OTHER TEN YEARS status is for me extremely sad and should be rectified

ernani has the most stupid ending plot point of any opera in existence including rigoletto

the only wagner I'm ever going to listen until I live is the ride of the valkyrie because I'm not even gonna get into his technical merits but every note of wagner's exhudes how insufferable he was and after the time I went to see parsifal and I started having literal hallucinations around the fourth hour (and I swear I was sober) I'm not coming close to wagner ever again I don't care X°D

I... probably do have more stuff that most regular ppl going to the opera would roast me for but X°DDD

[jjkpls]

The Prince Charming (Harry Potter!AU #6) (G)

> genre : fluff, comedy

> pairing : kim seokjin x reader (f)

> words : 1.4k

> warning : bad pickup lines stolen from thetoptens ‘cheesiest pick up line’ list

> Kim Seokjin (Gryffindor, 7th yr) is super handsome, super interesting, super loved, super funny and overall super great (says he). So why don’t you want him back? (fluff, greasy *ss pick up lines)

“Are you from Tennessee? 'Cause you're the only ten I see.” There's a long pause following. You're standing there in front of him, sucking your upper lip in and tilting your head slightly.

“I'm not sure what you mean.” You admit quietly, throwing a side glance to your friend who is looking as perplexed as you.

Seokjin's eyes fidget between the two of you. He opens his mouth a few times, wondering if he should try and elaborate. Maybe he mispronounced slightly? Or slurred his words too much because of like, timidness? It's not really in his habits to be misunderstood. First of all, because a clear eloquence is one of the keys to a successful journey -his dad says that, he's a man who carries himself like a king, chin pointed to the sky at all times, and articulates his words with a comical fierceness; Seokjin has noticed and tries to not pick up on it too much because his peers don't speak like that but it's hard not to be tempted, when he sees the effect Seokjin Sr has on his world. The second reason for him not being misunderstood is that people just listen to him. They're hanging from his very breath and never, ever miss a word of his. They just won't miss a chance. So why are you...?

“I just- never mind.” Seokjin twirls around, flapping the folds of his robe quite theatrically as he leaves in a rush, heading for the first closet he'll be able to hide his growing blush in.

But soon enough, he has to try again. Because it's you. And also, he was not raised a quitter. “Do you have a band-aid?” Seokjin watches your cute little head dropping in a flash, hair bobbing adorably in the air, as you start patting furiously at your pockets. He adds, with a sleek smirk on his plushy lips, “I scraped my knee when I fell for you.”

When you look up, eyebrows dropped in sorrow, you shake your head. “I don't but you should go see Madam Pomfrey, she'll surely be able to help you.” Seokjin sighs, dragging two pale fingers along the expanse of the majestic golden thread embroidery adorning the neck of his uniform.

“I'm not really hurt, ___.” And in retrospect, he might be. The way his heart constricts in his chest both from disappointment and for witnessing, once again, the pureness of your soul and kindness, is kind of painful. He smiles stiffly. “It's- I was just kidding.”

And then your face turns into the most confused expression he's ever seen. You stare at him for a while, as he just stares at you blankly, arms hanging poorly from his shoulders, looking kind of ridiculous for a Hogwarts Prince, whose ground he walks on tend to be cherished and any once of attention treasured. “Oh.” You just say, nodding your head even though he can tell you don't know why you're doing it. And again, he aborts the mission, jumping on some kid passing by, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, pretending he's been looking for them when he's never actually seen their face before. Thankgully, the gleaming eyes raised to his handsome face seem to hint that the kid doesn't mind the assault, so there's that.

This time, Seokjin decides he's had enough beating around the bushes. Because clearly you're playing dumb. He knows you. He knows everything there is to know about you. You're one of the best students of your year. You're praised on the daily by professors who grant you prizes that had never even existed before you just because they're so smitten by the sweetness of your character wrapping up your incredible intelligence. He's going to be bold and assertive. The way he was taught to be if he meant to obtain anything he wanted in this life. “Do you work for UPS? Because I could swear I saw you checking out my package.” And Seokjin is so proud of himself. So full of it. He allows himself a greasy bite on his bottom lip, bringing the pale colour a bright pink, before letting a blinding smirk take over his face.

“No, I don't, uhm- You're always saying the weirdest things, Seokjin.” You're chuckling awkwardly, playing with your fingers. And as always, you're not just leaving. You're staying right in front of him, your pretty polished shoes pointing his way, and your expression so warm and inviting. And he doesn't get it. How can you seem so relatively into him yet so cold to his advances? He couldn't be more distinct than that!

“Are you stupid? She's lived all her life in an exclusively wizardry village. She probably never heard about UPS.”

“Oh... That's right.” Namjoon sees the light bulb turn on in his friend's head, bringing light through his quite sad-looking eyes. “But, see, that's exactly the problem: I am stupid!” Seokjin is aiming a mean pointer at himself, face suddenly illuminated by the most excited expression. The most excited Namjoon's ever seen on someone claiming this loud that they're stupid.

“Uh...” Because what is he supposed to say? He wouldn't say it out loud. He's a friend. Friends don't say stuff like that. But he does. He does think his friend is a little empty up there.

“I'm handsome, rich and funny, right?” He counts on his fingers, raising one up for each new self-offered compliment, shaking his hands around furiously. He doesn't seem to notice the deep distress facing him. “I'm very charming too. Old people love me! But she is so intelligent. Why would she want me?”

“Are you- serious?”

“Maybe I should try more intellectual pickup lines?” He mumbles, fumbling in the pocket of his robe for his smartphone -that he's not supposed to have but managed to keep in Hogwarts thanks to his “connections”.

Namjoon watches him, typing furiously on the screen, probably looking for a new source of lame pick up lines. Because on top of being hopeless and dumb, he's very uncreative.“I don't think- Seokjin, she doesn't seem sensible to these kinds of things.”

“Yeah but with this face on top!” Seokjin gives him his brightest smile and a wink. On that note, Namjoon simply runs away because he suddenly felt a rush of nausea hit him.

And this time is The Time. Now Seokjin knows everything that went wrong during the other attempts. You're not dense nor playing dense. He was just being the fucking moron in these episodes, assuming you'd understand when, obviously, you two don't have the same background. And Seokjin is so grateful for his friend, Namjoon, who might have not gotten the looks, the money, or the presence, but only so that he would get the brains and therefore, complete the one thing Seokjin is missing. “Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you.”

Immediately, he gets a brand new reaction from you. Not the blank fish stare. Nor the nervous nibbling on your lip and fidgety tapping of your shoes. Your pretty little eyelashes slap a couple of times on your pretty little cheekbones. There's a quiet blush colouring your cheeks where they shape in a smile. He just remains there, striking his known to be best-looking pose, not saying anything because he's not sure what else to say and it seems to be going great and it needs to keep getting better so he should probably shut up to not mess it all up.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes, I am.” He announces, voice firm and low-pitched, in an almost perfect imitation of a strong confident man who's definitely not freaking out because, for the first time, he's successfully managed to flirt with his crush. You visibly swoon and that ends to fuel him up and soon, he's saying in an overflooding of self-assurance, “I've promised to a bunch of roses in the field to show them how beautiful you are.”

There you clap your hands against your mouth, muffling the squeal that escapes without warning. “Oh, Merlin’s Beard! Seokjin...” Your eyes fold in the most charming of slits, and there he knows he's finally got you. Truth be told it wasn't the face on top nor the more “intellectual” pickup lines that made it work this time. It was mostly due to the implication of a very concerned and merciful Namjoon, who decided to take matters in his own hands and overly clarify Seokjin's feelings and intentions to you, that made the magic happen. But he doesn't need to know that when you like him back anyway.

[mst3kproject]

415: The Beatniks

 While I am, it must be admitted, as old as dirt, I am not quite old enough to have any firsthand experience with Beatnikery.  I am nevertheless under the impression that it involves black turtlenecks, round sunglasses, unkempt facial hair, and bad poetry.  None of these make any sort of appearance in The Beatniks.

Eddie Crane is the leader of a small gang of very stupid criminals.  I assume they chose him for the position because he’s the only guy they know who actually started seventh grade.  They’re celebrating their latest robbery when forces beyond Eddie’s control, in the form of a talent agent who looks weirdly like Sir Ian McKellan and a TV station manager who looks worryingly like Arch Hall Sr., conspire to propel him to stardom whether he likes it or not!  Eddie doesn’t want to be That Guy who let fame go to his head and forgot about his friends, so the gang tags along, looking for places to vandalize and people to murder until Eddie just can’t keep the charade up any longer.

I wonder if names like Bud Eagle and Eddie Crane are meant to suggest that these guys can sing like birds.  If so, it would have behooved them to choose birds that are actually known for singing.  Then again, I guess Bud Nightingale and Eddie Sparrow wouldn’t have sounded nearly as tough.

The Beatniks is actually a fairly engaging and watchable movie.  It moves along at a good pace, never allowing the viewer to get bored, but it’s full of contrived situations and awful dialogue spoken by barely-competent actors, so it’s perfect for MST3K.  It’s also got a fair amount going on below the surface for me to analyze, and the songs are… uh…

Well, they’re not good.  They’re not very memorable (except the first one, which sticks in the mind not because of the tune but because of the refrain my sideburns don’t need no sympathy. What the fuck?), they sound more like Glenn Miller than anything that would have been popular by 1960, and the lyrics are maudlin and predictable, but they’re nowhere near as awful as anything sung by Arch Hall Jr.  Tony Travis has a decent set of pipes and I can see him being the Clay Aiken or Josh Groban of his day, enormously popular with little old ladies and middle-aged gay men.

That’s not what we're shown in the movie, though.  If the writers had tried to make Eddie’s meteoric rise to stardom as ridiculous and implausible as possible, they couldn’t have done much better than this (‘meteoric’ is a particularly apt description of Eddie, who shines very bright for ten seconds and then hits the ground real hard).  His success is so sudden and so total, from small-time crook to household name in no more than a few days, that it feels like at any moment we’re going to see a bunch of people stand up and shout, “April Fool!”

I don’t know how these things worked in the fifties, of course, but I seriously doubt talent agents just wandered the wastes signing random people they got into car accidents with.  Most actors and singers have to put in years of work before anybody notices them – Harrison Ford was George Lucas’ carpenter and Demi Moore was a girl of the week in Master Ninja!  With Eddie, everything is just handed to him, and it’s really rather detrimental to his character.  We don’t see him as somebody who deserves success, because he wasn’t depicted as having any ambitions or any desire to reach beyond what he is.  He’s just some jerk who had a stroke of good luck.

This is topped off by the movie’s I Accuse My Parents-like unwillingness to really depict Eddie was a criminal.  The gang’s store robbery at the beginning seems to be something they’ve done so often that the owners are expecting them – the man asks, “don’t you guys ever rob anyone else” and seems more resigned than terrified.  Eddie issues some mild threats but the actual stealing is done by his friends, and as soon as stardom knocks on Eddie’s door, he abandons violence entirely.  It’s his buddies who trash the hotel room and shoot the barkeep, while Eddie begs them not to, as if putting on a suit and tie has suddenly transformed him into a grownup.

Like many 50s and 60’s Rebellious Teens movies, The Beatniks is intended as a warning.  It’s a little more subtle about it than things like Reefer Madness, but not too much.  The message here is that someday, even the angriest of teen rebels will grow up, and when they do, they may find that leaving their pasts behind is not as easy as they thought.  It turns out to be particularly difficult for Eddie, whose bad decisions are embodied in his reckless and violent friends and follow him in a very literal sense indeed.  He wants to leave that past behind for a new career and a more adult relationship, but they catch up with him every time.

I guess this is why Eddie’s rise has to be so sudden – so that he can’t have any opportunity to ditch these people from his past.  That sort of makes sense, but it’s still lazy writing and leaves Eddie with almost no character whatsoever.  Throughout the film he appears mostly as somebody being manhandled by destiny, both his rise and his fall so entirely out of his own control that he’s still basically a victim even when good things are happening to him.

The single most confusing thing in the movie is Eddie’s romance with Agent Magneto’s blonde secretary, Helen.  It’s easy to see why he likes her: Helen may not be what is usually considered beautiful (the Brains compared her to “Donald Sutherland in drag”) but she’s clearly intelligent and sophisticated, well-dressed and good-mannered.  What you find yourself wondering is what she sees in him. He’s not witty or charming and the movie suggests he’s quite a bit younger than she is.

Of course, you’re not supposed to ask that because the women in this movie are not characters, they’re symbols.  Blonde, glamorous Helen represents the glittering world of stardom that Eddie is being ushered into.  Clingy, criminal Iris is Eddie’s past, with its obsession with money and good times.  She still lives with her mother, making her also a representation of childhood, while independent Helen with her own apartment is an adult.

Is this misogynistic?  Eh, maybe, but the rest of the gang are more symbols than characters, too.  The one who stands out most is Mooney, the guy who actually kills the fat barkeep and stabs Agent Gandalf, and then insists he did it for Eddie, since these men would have gone to the cops if he hadn’t. The movie makes it clear that his two victims said no such things, and Eddie is pretty sure that Mooney is lying about it, but the audience may get the impression that Mooney believes it.  He’s terrified of being caught and sent to jail and lashes out at anyone who might be a threat.  Claiming he’s doing it for Eddie is just a way of telling himself that he’s not really being selfish and impulsive.

Some have seen this as homoerotic – that Mooney is in love with Eddie and tries to protect him for that reason, while he’s actually just lashing out at the things that threaten to take the object of his love away from him.  I can definitely see that, but I think what the writers may have been going for is that Mooney represents selfishness.  The movie is saying that the things juvenile delinquents do are out of selfishness – the group robs the store for money and booze, drive the other restaurant patrons out as they seek a good time, and kill the barkeep out of fear.  The same fear selfishly keeps them from seeking medical help for Red.  They spare no thought for their effect on society as a whole, but society is something we are all part of whether we like it or not, and so our selfish acts will eventually come back on us, as they do on Eddie.

The love stories in the movie fit in with this theme, too.  Iris’ love for Eddie is about what he can provide her with – money and songs when he’s just a criminal, and furs and fame once he becomes a star.  Helen’s love for him, and his for her, is unselfish: each wants the other’s happiness, even if there is a personal cost.  Eddie tries to distance himself from Helen when he fears he’ll drag her down with him, she tries to encourage him to do what’s right even if it means she loses him.  If we believe that Mooney loves Eddie, then this love is also selfish.  He wants Eddie to himself, and destroys the things that threaten to separate them.

This is a really bad movie but like a number of other MST3K features, including Manos and The Magic Sword, it’s got a lot for me to get my analytical teeth into.  It makes a great episode not only because the movie is so entertainingly terrible and the riffing so good, but because enough of its seventy-seven minutes made it into the theatre that you can pick out all this stuff and chew on it.  It’s not a movie I would have watched without MST3K, but I’m kinda glad I did.

[sabraeal]

Merry and Bright: Part 2

Shirayuki awakens in freefall, promptly brought to an unpleasant end by her whole body slapping against the bedroom floor.

She groans; she’s not hurt besides the angry sting of where her skin hit hardwood, but her pride is certainly wounded. The last time she fell out of a bed, she must have been in the single digits. She better not be coming down with something; vertigo is one of those symptoms that makes WebMD speculate about brain tumors and lupus, and she just doesn’t need that kind of stress three months into her PhD.

She levers herself up onto her knees, blearily peering up at the clock on the bedside table. The numbers swim in her vision for a long moment before the first settles into a glaring red seven. It’s far too early to be functioning, and she’s clearly disoriented by it; this hardly even looks like her room –

Obi lets out a loud huff, hand flopping over the edge of the bed, and she is abruptly aware that this is not her room, and that they are not in their apartment. This is Obi’s old room, untouched since the night her left. And this is not her bed, but –

She scrambles to her feet, staring down at the broad expanse of Obi’s back, the long spread of his limbs – and rolls her eyes. No wonder she ended up on the floor.

“Obi.” She shoves at his side, prodding fingers into his ribs. Her hardly budges. “Obi, come on, you can’t take up the whole bed.”

He grunts into the pillows, hunkering further into the mattress.This is a lost cause.

Shirayuki snatches his hoodie from the chair, shrugging it over her shoulders as she shuffles to the stairs. Even from the top landing she catches the rich scent of coffee and the savory smell of bacon. Her stomach growls, reminding her it’s been a long while since she last ate, and it was only some chicken bites and a biscuit from when they detoured through the rest area for dinner.

(”You’re killing me,” he tells her, pulling out of the drive through. “I didn’t even know there was a non-fried option on the menu.”

“It looked like the healthiest thing.” She pops one in her mouth and is assaulted by salt. She’s hungry enough that she likes it. “They’re roasted.”

“Doc, the whole thing comes with fries and a biscuit.” He glances at her disapprovingly before gunning it onto the highway. “There’s not a thing about that place that’s healthy.”

“Oh, you can have mine, by the way,” she tells him. “The fries I mean.”

He sighs. “Just feed me my dirty rice.”)

She hesitates. It feels strange to go see Bob and Gayle without him. They’re not her family, and she – she doesn’t know if he would be comfortable with her talking with them. Especially talking with them about him. She doesn’t know what he wants them to know or, more importantly, not know.

The decision is abruptly made for her when a black and tan puffball plants itself at the bottom of the stairs and howls.

“Oh, Shirayuki, honey!” Gayle calls up. “Is that you?”

She grimaces, trying to glare at the dog but – it’s just too cute. She can’t blame it for being excited. “Yes.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up.” Gayle’s voice gets closer as she makes her way to the kitchen, tiny dog in tow. “There’s pancakes warming in the oven, ig you’re hungry for them.”

“There’s enough to feed an army,” Bob informs her over the top of the paper.”

Gayle snaps her head around to scold, but Shirayuki says, “Oh good, just enough for Obi.”

The two of them exchange a glance before laughter bubbles out. “True enough,” Bob admits. “Make sure you leave enough.”

“I see you’ve met the Baron.” Gayle nods to her tiny shadow.

“Oh, yes.” She glances down at the fluff curled below her chair. “We met on the stairs.”

“He’s friendly,” she assures Shirayuki, as if the light puppy-snores were not a ringing endorsement for his personality.

“Even friendlier if you bribe him with bacon.”

“Bob.” Gayle send her husband a warning look. Bob, for his part, only winks over the tech section.

“Did you sleep well?” Gayle asks, casual, and Shirayuki feels her shoulders tense.

(“Is this all right?” Obi asks the skin of her neck, his hand hot against her stomach, his belly curving along her spine. There’s nothing for it, she knows, he’s taller than the mattress is long, it’s the only way they’ll fit –

She swallows hard. “Yeah, that’s fine.”)

“Yes.” She rubs at her eyes, hisses as she hits a bump on her nose.

(“OW,” she hisses, clutching her face. Obi startles, his eyes slitting open as he moves his elbow away. He’s taken up half the bed by now, Shirayuki only holding onto the last bastion by the pillows. “Why?”

“Sorry,” he slurs, not sounding the least bit sincere. She rolls up onto her knees, leaning over him.

“How have you had people in your bed before?” she asks, annoyed. “Did you just hide the bodies?”

“Well, Doc,” he drawls sleepily, stretching so that the cotton of his shirt rubs against her palms. “We weren’t exactly sleeping.”)

“As well as could be expected,” Shirayuki amends awkwardly. Bob chokes a little on his coffee, and she realizes there is a whole category of other reasons she might not have gotten enough sleep.

Obi really needs to explain some things.

Gayle levels a glare over her shoulder at her husband. “We weren’t sure if you’d make it to breakfast,” she says. “We weren’t sure if you were an early bird or a…”

“Whatever Obi is,” Bob finished, his mouth lifted up in the corner.

“Did he sleep late when he was here?” she asks.

“I’d faint from shock if he managed to locate an hour before ten,” Gayle laughed, handing her a plate of pancakes and bacon. “Coffee?”

“Ah, no, none for me please.” She takes the plate, wondering what Obi’s – what Bob and Gayle would say if they knew that he regularly taught the eight am section of Shidan’s class. What they would think if they knew he said better to get it over with earlier than later.

Gayle gives her a long look as she digs into her breakfast. It’s delicious, melting on her tongue. “You’re a cocoa girl, aren’t you?”

She blinks. “If you have it…”

“Of course.” Gayle bustles about the kitchen with purpose. “One of our girls – Kelly Ann, you’ll meet her today – she’s a cocoa girl too. Always have to keep the good stuff around for her.”

“And now you,” Bob prompts with an absent smile.

“And now you,” Gayle agrees. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too.” Shirayuki swallows her bite of pancakes. “It’s good that Obi –”

“No, no, honey,” Gayle puts a hand on her shoulder, and it’s as loving and warm as Shirayuki remembers her own grandmother’s being. “I’m glad you came. I’m sure being back here is going to be…hard for Obi. But knowing he’s found himself a girl that wants to stay by his side for something like this…I’m glad he’s done so well for himself. He was all rough edges when he came here.”

“He had more than a few of those when we met,” Shirayuki admits with a grin.

Gayle’s hand squeezes her gently. “And it speaks leagues about you that you took him as he was.”

“It’s….um….” Shirayuki takes the cocoa offered to her absently, staring down into the whipped cream. “I…”

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Shirayuki.” Gayle smiles, glancing back at her husband. “We both are.”

“…Great.” Shirayuki takes a sip of her cocoa. It’s the best she’s ever tasted.

 The humming won’t stop.

Obi reaches out a hand, slapping at the beside table that isn’t fucking there. He lifts his head, blearily searching the room, only – it’s not his.

More accurately, it isn’t his anymore.

He groans, dropping his head into the pillow. It’s coming back to him now: Christmas, Bob and Gayle, twelve hours of driving to gets across the Carolinas, Doc in his bed…

Oh god. Shirayuki is sleeping in his bed.

The hum starts up again.

Oh right, his phone. His phone is going off. That makes sense. That is a thing that makes sense, unlike any of the other things running through his head right now.

He flicks the screen open, and there are just a fuckton of texts, all from Zen. Because of course, of course the only way to start of his stressful family vacation is with guilt.

“Ugh, mother fucker,” he moans before rolling onto his back, scrolling through about a thousand single-period texts before he finds one from late last night.

Did you guys get in okay?

ru fukn srs rn?

Is that English? Should I be able to read that? At least I know you’re alive now

ur a fukn siko w ur prds get a lyf man im not a frm u cant just bmp a topic wtf im alive slept well just got up

Is Shirayuki up too? I haven’t heard back from her

i dunno i dont c her in bed so prob

He has just enough time to be aware of how stupid he is before Zen texts him back.

What do you mean you don’t see her in bed??? Are you sleeping in the same bed????? OBI???????

g2g brkfst