#it’s perfect. perfect glorious cheese. HOW HAS NO ONE DONE THIS YET

[knowlesian]

how is there not a kenny loggins jukebox musical yet

this is an untapped well of exceedingly homoerotic music!!!! somebody get on this, moving out style

[justgothamcitythings]

THE NOT-ULTIMATE OBVIOUSLY PARTIAL AND INCOMPLETE GUIDE TO EATIN' IN GOTHAM

So you're coming to Gotham City. Where does the discerning traveler get their nosh on? `Cause there's no WAY that we're eating at TGI Friday's.

Well, you're in luck, friendo. This native is going to spill on some of the most famous places in Gotham, as well as less-known local joints that everyone should try.

LUIGI'S Best. Fookin'. Pizza. In. Gotham. Yeah, they sell by the slice, but getchaself a pie. It's worth it. Classic sicilian, the crust is JUST a hair thicker than norm, but still bendy and thin - it's just not bendy enough to drop all the toppings on the floor when you pick it up. Best of all worlds, amazing homemade sauce. 10/10.

CHEZ VOUS Y'know the stereotypes about French restaurants being snooty and overpriced? Yeah, toss `em out the window. Chez Vous is the only French takeout joint I know. It helps that the Tarte A La Tomate is basically a puff-pastry pizza with mustard instead of red sauce. It's all very rustic French, even slipping in some Basque cuisine, and it's all damn good - but the best part is it won't break your wallet. Twelve bucks'll get you through almost any dish on the menu. Also, yes, like half the menu is fully vegan. 9/10, they lose a point for pretending they don't know what you're talking about when you ask for "the French pizza thing".

KATYA'S Formerly "Katya's Italian Kitchen", 3rd Street. Still called that according to the sign that they haven't changed yet. Just plain good Italian. Homemade pasta, and the mushroom tortellini is perfect. It's an open secret that it's a mafia front, but it stays in business because A) the Zucco family hasn't really done anything outside of white collar crime since Tony Zucco got fingered for murder a decade-plus ago, and B) it's pretty deece. 8/10, a little overpriced but solid, don't spring for the calzones.

BIG BELLY BURGER There's about twenty locations in Gotham, and if you want fast food, yeah it's damn good. They used to have the HQ here and they still treat their restaurants like they're the 'flagships' for the franchise. Expect a big honkin' slab of steamed meat with gooey white cheese in the middle, whatever veg you want (they nickle-and-dime you for anything past pickle and onion but they have a REALLY impressive selection anyway) and the trademark Big Belly Sauce (which I think is just thousand island without pickle but it's still good). The only weakness here is the fries, which are okay, but not great. 7/10, gives me heartburn every time.

BAT-BURGER This place gains points from my point of view by relentlessly mocking the asshats who keep trying to make Gotham a worse place to live. WHY YES I WOULD LIKE TO JOKERIZE THOSE FRIES! In all honesty it's a good mid-grade fast food place that gets extra points for proper seasoning on everything. Just don't go to the one in Old Gotham, the manager is constantly drunk and I doubt it's EVER been properly cleaned. 7/10 for most locations, 3/10 for OG.

THE ICEBERG LOUNGE Okay, y'know how it's an open secret that Katya's is a mafia front? The Iceberg Lounge isn't a secret, it relishes in it. This is Ozzie Cobblepot's one 100% legit venture, which is why it keeps surviving when he gets thrown in the slammer (I think it's technically owned by a separate property management company now, so they can't touch it anymore…). Big band music, glorious art deco themeing, and legit the best seafood in the city. 9/10, if you can afford the splurge it's worth it.

CUBBY'S DINING CAR This diner has been in business since 1937, and they've barely changed the menu since 1937. That means that yes, you can still get a hot Dr. Pepper here, and yes, it's still gross. No-frills breakfast standards and burgers. The "Cub Sauce" is just chili sauce, it's a nightmare for the digestion but it's almost worth it. Bonus points for having a loose meat "miscellaneous poultry" sammich they call "Skymeat". The owner claims that this is a local thing from West Virginia, I really don't buy it. 5/10, menu is a mixed bag but it's an experience, and they never close which is nice.

LOU'S CANDY SHOPPE While nominally 'just a candy shop', this place actually has a really good menu. Old fashioned malts and egg creams, Gotham style dogs that are as good as any street cart but prepared in a marginally cleaner environment, and even cheesesteaks (with whiz, always). The walls of Lou's are plastered with Gotham history, which Lou himself refers to as 'his trophies', basically anything that he lived through. 8/10, there's only three tables or this would probably rate higher.

IL-SHAN-TEN If you want decent Japanese food in Gotham Proper, this isn't a bad spot. It's halfway between an izakaya and a diner, and they make really good donburi. The place used to be a mahjong parlor (hence the name) and it's evidently gotten kinda trendy lately? Expect a crowd, but not a bad crowd. 6/10, a little overpriced, but serviceable.

THE GOTHAM BAR AND GRILL They say this place used to be good years ago. I don't believe it. As a bar, TGBaG is halfway passable, so long as you don't want a cocktail more complex than a boilermaker. As a grill, it's godawful. Burgers come in two varieties - underdone and burnt. Steaks are stingy, the fish and chips tastes indescribable (and not in a good way, but in a Cthulhu kinda way). Fries are passable. 2/10, avoid, the name does not make it a local institution, and the fact that it's been in business since `39 makes it an anomaly, not a mark of pride.

BLACK BASS BAR Now this is more like it. Closed from six AM to noon, seedy as all get out but lively and fun. The embodiment of a dive bar. Classic Brit style fish and chips, decent mini pizzas, cheap and greasy. 8/10, no, the bartender won't sleep with you but she's fun to hang with.

FOOD JUNCTON I think it's supposed to say "junction". Had to end this with my favorite anomaly. This place is right outside the stadium (GO KNIGHTS) and it's literally an old carnival food trailer that the put on a foundation and called good. It serves gyros and kebabs in various forms, all to go unless you want to sit on the curb (which a lot of people do). The only drink they serve is mystery-flavor Kool-Aid. Cheap as balls, homemade tzatziki or "happy sauce" (which is equally homemade ranch that they refuse to call ranch), always good. 12/10, a must-have.

Alright, that's it, if anyone has any requests for a short review I'll add `em in later with a reblog.

[themurphyzone]

PatB: Nova Ch 2

Insert funny one-liner here. Cause I can’t think of anything. 

Ch 2: Space Cadet

New Selenian Date 3015.3.12

Terran satellite conversations are useless drivel! Nothing but pomp and circumstance about trivial subjects that don’t help us plan our global domination! All this curiosity about planets and star systems beyond your own, yet you actively sabotage your own progress in space exploration! Hypocritical morons. When Snowball and I rule Terra, we shall usher in an age of science and rationality, because you obviously cannot be trusted to run your own planet without blowing it up several times over! Why, you have less intelligence in your collective brains than I have in my pinky!

Alright. Just inhale…exhale. Inhale...exhale.

I needed that tirade. Progress on the Conquistador has slowed and is approaching an impasse of the highest caliber. The outside paneling requires special attention and shielding because we do not wish to burn upon entering Terra’s atmosphere. However, the thermal protective system we’ll be developing will likely be rudimentary at best, fatal at worst due to lack of top of the line equipment. The Selenians managed to conserve enough fuel in their ships to leave the colony and presumably return to their original planet, with the exception of one ill-fated vessel which experienced a malfunction when they first arrived on New Selene.

I have no choice but to visit the crash site of that particular ship with Snowball. If fortune is on our side, we’ll have a ragged version of the paneling we need, but…I will be in close contact with the electrical firing of Snowball’s neurons. An unfortunate side effect of my genetic enhancement from a mos’s natural inclination to electricity. The distance from Penumbra doesn’t help matters either.

Ah…I’ll cut this transmission off here. Snowball’s calling in, for once.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

“He called my name,” the mouse whispered, awestruck by the deep voice that crackled through the chipped Walkman radio. He rolled his skinny tail between his paws, joyful tears swimming in his vision and making everything blurry-whirly. “He said my name!”

He had many names alright. From Gouda to Zort to No, We Don’t Know Why That Subject Says Narf. From what he remembered of his parents and Sis, they called him Chchchrree mixed with sniffy noises. It was hard to say for everyone else though, even him. It was the sniffing part, really. It tripped everyone up.

But none of his names fit him quite like Pinky.

Oh, he was being rude, wasn’t he? He may be a sliced gene lab mouse, but he was a sliced gene lab mouse with manners!

The newly named Pinky fiddled with the slider on the Walkman. There were a lot of numbers, and he didn’t know which one let his voice through, so he eeny-meeny-miney-moed between all of them until his finger landed on 92.

92 was a good number. Nice, funny, and a pretty figure.

“Haha, narf! Hello, the Brain!” Pinky laughed into the Walkman. “I know you’re probably busy with the Conquesowhatsit, so you can just listen to this whenever you’re free! Anyway, I’m Pinky and I’ve been listening to your messages for months! And you said my name just now! It made me so happy I cried!”

Nothing but crackling static answered. A click came from the hallway, the aircon kicking in and blowing a cool wind through the lab. Machinery hummed, screens flickered, squeaks from other mice echoed.  

Pinky waited. He would wait however long he needed to. The voice would reply, he was sure of it.

“Brain, is it…is it lonely up there?” Pinky asked. He was very bad at the waiting game. He lost to himself every time. “You sound sad. And grumpy. Grumpy-sad, even. What makes you happy? The stars? I’m happy looking at the twinkly stars. They must be even prettier from space.”

Pinky waved at the gorgeous night sky. Countless stars and a silver moon to watch over them all. Pinky loved having a cage with such a view. The Brain might have a big telly-scope he could see Terra with! Terra, a lovely name for a lovely world! And to think Pinky had been calling it Earth like a silly-billy goat gruff.

Though the Brain might not be able to see him…he was practically the size of a mouse after all. Unless Pinky climbed to the highest point of the Great Mall of China! Everyone knew the Great Mall of China could be seen from space! And he could eat yummy dumplings there too!

Pinky twiddled his thumbs. He shouldn’t keep the Brain away from his super important work much longer. “Tell Snowball I said hi, okay? And thank you for the name. Same time again tomorrow night, right? Good night, the Brain. Sleep tight and don’t let the spacebugs bite. Cause then it gets itchy. Poit.”  

There was no answer. There wasn’t usually. Maybe the Brain was shy. It was okay though. He was probably saying good night too, in his own grumpy shy way.

Pinky turned off the Walkman and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. Then he slipped back into his cage, the bars spaced wide enough for him to slink through. He was still working on opening the cage door. TV always made escaping cages look so easy.

His straw bed was bathed in a patch of silver moonbeams tonight. That was good. Light always helped him sleep easier. Pinky flopped into the straw and pulled Mr. Button close, like his parents had done for him and Sis when they were babies. Mr. Button was hard, round, and green, but he was still a good cuddle buddy.

He had a big day of wheel running, maze running, and running to Pharfignewton’s stable tomorrow. Best to get some shuteye now and be bright-eyed and floppy-tailed tomorrow. He fell asleep with Mr. Button cradled loosely in his paws, dreaming of a land filled with delicious cheese.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky ran on his wheel for his pre-breakfast exercise, finished off the remaining food pellets in his bowl, and even squeezed in a little pampering time before he was scooped up by the tail and dropped into a maze.

It was routine, and how he loved all sorts of routines! Bonking into walls nose-first was always fun, especially when he saw dizzy circling stars until he fell over like a limp noodle. Of course, he never could finish a maze, which made many of the humans puzzled and confuzzled while they scratched their heads and snapped pictures with their smartphones.

Mazes were hard. If he bounced high enough and clung to the wall like a Spidermouse, he could see the yummy cheese at the very end, but he wasn’t very good at getting there. He even tried the summoning spell he’d seen in one of the Harry Potter movies so the cheese would come to him instead, but his comes-and-goes telephonetic magic skills didn’t help him either.

The day passed like normal. Get lost in maze, lunch break, try another maze until he got more lost than the people stuck on an island in that one very confusing show, until he was finally brought back to his cage before the lab closed for the day.

Today, the lab had closed in the mid-afternoon, the sun still shining brightly in a pretty blue sky. Pinky could spend several glorious hours with Pharfignewton before the Brain’s nightly message over the Walkman.

Pinky squeezed through the cage bars, taking a flying leap off the counter and landing belly-down on the squishy seat of a spinning chair. He giggled as the chair slid back and spun a little, then dusted himself off and bowed to an invisible crowd. He’d been improving his landings lately. One of these days he’d definitely perfect his swan dive!

He jumped down to the floor and ran into the kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the bitter scent of leftover coffee in the pot. He’d always been a tea sort of mouse himself. Grabbing hold of the cherry-print towel that hung on the handle of the refrigerator, he counted to three (he probably put too many Mississippi’s between one and two again) and hauled himself up. All those upper body strength videos were coming in handy.

Pinky balanced himself on a thin sliver of handle and the fridge door, then shoved his feet against the handle and stretched himself as far as he could.

“Narf! C’mon, Pinky!” he wheezed, feeling the strain of his tummy and leg muscles. “It’s not bagel warmer science!”

He took a quick breather and gave one final shove. The door opened with a pop and Pinky lost his balance, landing somewhat painfully on the cold bottom of the fridge.

“Just like Iceland in here! Or was that the green one?” Pinky said, picking himself up from the floor and pushing the fridge door open all the way. He didn’t want to be locked in again. Besides, he’d promised Pharfignewton he’d come by today. He’d feel really awful if he broke his promise. “Now if I were a horse, what would I like to eat?”

Pharfignewton couldn’t eat cheese. Something about her tummy being intolerant. It was a little rude of her tummy to be honest, though she’d definitely eat cheese if she could.

Pinky peeked into each drawer, searched through every condiment bottle, but none really caught his eye as something he could bring along.

The leftover club sandwich wasn’t vegetarian. Condiment bottles wouldn’t fit through the mail slot.

Pinky found a box half-filled with sugar lumps, but Pharfignewton was very insistent on watching her figure in preparation for the Kentucky Derby in two months.

And then he spotted a celery snack pack with peanut butter dip on the topmost shelf.

“Egad, that’s perfect!” Pinky exclaimed, shimmying up to the snack pack. He pushed a red Jell-o cup aside and snagged his prize, hugging it to his chest. The only way to make it even tastier was to find raisins so they could make ants on a log, which didn’t look like real ants on real logs at all.

With the snack pack in hand, he hurried to meet Pharfignewton.

o-o-o-o-o

Pharfignewton galloped through the field, her gray mane flowing behind her like a beautiful river. No matter how many times he’d seen her practice, it never failed to amaze him. Her hooves flew like the breeze, her sky blue eyes shining in determination as she pushed herself a little further every day.

Pinky pulled himself up the fence’s wooden boards, kneeling on the flat surfaces and hauling the snack pack up with him. Once he made it to the top of a wide fencepost, he opened the pack and scooped one end of a celery stick into the peanut butter, then waved the coated end in the air.

“AND THERE SHE GOES! IS SHE A BIRD? IS SHE A PLANE? NO, SIRREE BOB! SHE’S PHARFIGNEWTON, THE BEST AND FASTEST RACEHORSE IN THE WORLD!” Pinky shouted, waving the celery stick like a flag.

Pharfignewton whinnied loudly, pouring on the speed as she galloped through a space between two trees and slowed to a brisk trot until she reached Pinky. She swept out a hoof and bowed to an invisible camera, her tail flicking happily.

“Hi, Figgy Pudding! You look amazing out there! Guess what? The Brain gave me a name! I’m Pinky now! Actually, I’m Pinky. He never said Pinkynow, did he?” Pinky grinned, holding the celery stick up to her muzzle. Pharfignewton neighed in delight, and it didn’t take long before all the celery sticks and peanut butter were gone. Practicing always made her work up an appetite.

Pinky licked up the remaining peanut butter, swiping his tongue along his mouth for the lingering peanut-y taste. Then he climbed onto Pharfignewton’s muzzle, her eyes sparkling as she tossed him into the air. Pinky threw out his arms, laughing and sliding down her long neck. He came to a stop at the base of her mane, then flipped himself over and gave her a ginormous hug.

Pharfignewton craned her neck, a blocky smile stretching her muzzle before suddenly rearing up on her hind legs and whinnying triumphantly.

“Zort!” Pinky cried, grabbing fistfuls of her mane to stop himself from falling off. Pharfignewton took off like a firecracker, and Pinky’s body lifted off her neck completely. “Hi-ho, Pharfignewton! Yippie-ki-yay!”

The ground and sky blurred together in a swirl of mashed colors, and the nearby stables were nothing more than thin brown lines in the corner of Pinky’s eye.

“The pack, Fig!” Pinky yelled. “We’ve gotta keep the environment clean!”

Pharfignewton raced by the fencepost, snatching up the plastic lining of the snack pack in her teeth and dropping it into the garbage bin by the stables. “Whoo! Nice and tight turn there!” Pinky said, leaning forward and planting his feet against Pharfignewton’s back to keep his balance. “You’re gonna win the Derby for sure!”

Pharfignewton neighed, leaping over a fallen branch with room to spare.

“Right, and then onto the Triple Crown! Live your dream, Pharfignewton! Live your dream!” Pinky shouted above the roar of the wind.

o-o-o-o-o

Pharfignewton’s owner, a friendly looking fellow with a big bushy beard, called for her as the sun went down. Though Pharfignewton was tired out from all her running, she eagerly trotted over to her owner and accepted a pat on the nose and a carrot. Pinky buried himself in her mane and pretended to be a tiny horse with pretty hair while the owner refilled her feed bucket and penned her in the stall for the night.

Once he was gone, Pinky sat on a wooden post next to Pharfignewton’s head, kicking his feet in the air while she ate her dinner.

“Camptown ladies sing this song! Doo-dah! Doo-dah!” Pinky sang, twirling a long piece of hay in the air as his baton. He pointed the hay at Pharfignewton, who paused in her meal and neighed out the next lyric. “Oh, that was gorgeous! You’re gonna be a real crowd-pleaser at the Derby!”

At the mention of the Derby, Pharfignewton stopped eating completely and rested her muzzle in the space next to Pinky. She nickered, ears pinning against her head. Pinky rubbed his nose against hers, smiling so she wouldn’t worry as much.

“I’ll be alright, Fig,” Pinky whispered. “The Triple Crown’s been your dream since fillyhood. You should go for it. Don’t worry about silly ol’ me.”

Pharfignewton tossed her head back and whinnied, her hoof scraping against the dirt floor.

“I’ll see you off when you leave,” Pinky said. “And watch you on TV. I’ll cheer so loudly you’ll hear me all the way in Kentucky! That’s a promise! A Pinky promise!”

He placed both pinky fingers on Pharfignewton’s muzzle so she could have one as well. He knew she was still worried though. And it was nice to know she cared, but really, he’d be alright in the lab. He had his wheel, food pellets, and the dusty VCR that ACME hadn’t gotten around to replacing yet.

“Poit. The Brain’s message is gonna be coming in soon,” Pinky said. “I’d best get back to the lab. Really wish you could listen him too, but the Walkman won’t fit through the mail slot. I already tried.”

Pharfignewton let him cling to one nostril as she gently lowered him to the stable floor. Pinky gave her muzzle one last broad stroke before setting off, waving goodbye until the stable was out of sight.

The moon rose, the first twinkling stars of the night coming out to play.

“I think you’d like her, the Brain,” Pinky said to the sky. “She’s amazing.”

But he spent too long admiring the stars and missed the left turn on Albuquerque Street. By the time he got back the lab and turned on the Walkman, the message was already ending.

-and traveling to the crash site tomorrow. I hope this venture will yield something useful. Out there, it will be silent. Not even my proximity to Snowball will help. He’s ambitious, I’ll grant him that. Our desire to rule Terra…it’s what keeps us going. Perhaps a little too much, at times. It occasionally gets in the way of…certain things.

There was no sign off. Sometimes there wasn’t, if the Brain felt strongly about something.

Everyone seemed to have a faraway dream that made up their entire being. And while the land of delicious cheese was pretty far from the lab, just touring through it and buying all the refrigerator magnets he could carry didn’t seem to make up his entire being. Not in the way racing was Pharfignewton’s life. Or how the Brain always spoke of a desire to rule Terra.

“If you have a faraway dream, I guess you have to be far away,” Pinky said to Mr. Button, who only wobbled in reply. “It’s okay. I’m happy they have dreams.”

He had his wheel, food pellets, and the dusty VCR after all.

AN: I never made the promise about silly Pinky things. Shhh….

I wanted to keep Brain naming Pinky cause it’s cute (also it’s practical for writing but mostly cute).

To win the Triple Crown achievement, a racehorse needs to win the Kentucky Derby, the Belmont, and the Preakness. Pharfignewton’s got a lofty goal, but Pinky believes in her!

ACME is really bad about updating their tech.

[temilyrights]

watching you, watching her (chapter two)

Jack Sloane x Reader

Word Count: 3252

A/N: Chapter two! Have a ever updated this quickly? Please don’t get used to it >.< Just a warning this is still angsty as hell! Anyway, as always, feedback is always welcome :) (thank you @sassystrongsexysloane​ for helping to keep me motivated when all I wanna do is give up lol)

Read on AO3

Chapter One

“Are you all up for drinks tonight at Rick’s?” Jack asks as she swoops into the bullpen, her trademark smile in place.

“Sure.” Ellie smiles. “Special occasion?” 

“Sarah won this case she’s been working on for the last 3 weeks and she doesn’t have many friends in town and I wanted to do something to celebrate.” Jack looks so hopeful as she looks to you all that you can’t help but agree.

“I’m in.” Jack's smile brightens at your words and everyone else chirps in their okays as well.

The rest of the day flies by quickly and before you know it you’re all packing up for the day. Jack had left a little earlier to meet Sarah and as you descend the elevator you feel your nerves grow. You’d decided earlier that not drinking was probably the safest option, after the whole poker night fiasco you didn’t want to embarrass yourself again, or god forbid end up saying something to either Jack or Sarah. Also, it meant you could drive to the bar and not have to worry about collecting your car tomorrow. 

“Getting a drink, want anything?” You ask Gibbs when you both enter the bar. Jack and Sarah are sitting in a booth in the corner and she waves excitedly when she sees the two of you. 

“Sure, beer would be good.” You head to the bar ordering the drinks as Gibbs makes his way to the table. The bartender is just passing them to you when Ellie, Tim and Nick enter. Ellie heads in your direction, ordering 3 drinks before she turns to you.

“You okay?” 

“I’m good. Drinking lemonade tonight so don’t worry, no repeat of poker night.” You release a self-deprecating laugh, Ellie smiles sadly at you. 

“I wasn’t worried. I just want to see you happy again.” It’s said so earnestly that tears spring to your eyes.

“I am happy.” Your voice wobbles and Ellie reaches out squeezing your arm lightly. 

“Are you?” You don’t know how to respond to that, and it’s all you can think about as you both make your way over to the table. Sure you’d been a little down recently but you still enjoyed coming to work each day. Your passion for the job was still there, just a little duller as you were so consumed with Jack most the time. Watching her walk the halls always made you hurt now and pretending to be ok each day was tiring but you loved your team and you couldn’t imagine not working with them anymore, they were your family. 

You just needed to make more effort again, you’d pulled back from everyone socially recently and tonight was the perfect opportunity to resolve that. You slide the beer down the table to Gibbs who thanks you before taking the seat next to Tim. Ellie slides into the seat opposite you, easily jumping into a conversation with Sarah. 

“I hear congratulations are in order, well done on your case.” Ellie praises and Sarah’s face brightens into a wide smile. 

“Thank you. It was hard you have no idea how many times Jack had to get me to take a break as I worked myself raw.” Sarah and Jack share a sweet smile and you can’t help but think back to your conversation with Jack last month where she’d told you about Sarah getting annoyed with her for working. The hypocrisy of it all made you want to laugh. “But the boy was reunited with his family so it was all worth it.” 

“And that’s why we do the jobs we do.” Tim hums, murmurs of agreement fill the table. An unsettling feeling fills your stomach but instead of thinking about what it means you focus back on the conversation. 

“-Do you guys know how good of a cook she is? She does this chicken and cheese thing that’s to die for.” Sarah gushes and a smile pulls at your lips.

“Has she made you her soup yet?” You pipe up and at your earnest smile, Sarah returns one of her own. 

“Oh god, that soup is glorious!” Sarah continues to talk about the food as your eyes find Jack, she’s watching you with a soft smile on her face that you return. Baby steps, baby steps and soon you’ll be able to look at the blonde without the ache in your chest. 

----

It doesn’t take long for everyone to get tipsy. You stay with your lemonade and you notice Gibbs was only on his 2nd beer so was taking it a lot slower than everyone else (mainly Torres and Ellie who’d just returned from doing shots at the bar). They head to the dance floor and Sarah looks at Jack exaggeratedly fluttering her lashes.  “Please.” She begs, her head signalling to where Ellie and Nick had just disappeared too.

Jack rolls her eyes playfully but allows Sarah to pull her from the booth and to the dance floor. Your eyes finally snap away when Sarah pulls Jack in for a kiss. 

You move around the booth, so you’re sitting opposite Gibbs who’s still nursing his beer. Tim had disappeared off somewhere a few minutes before but you hadn’t paid attention to where. “You alright boss?” 

“Are you?” He fires back and you sigh.

“You know, I’m beginning to understand why Ellie got annoyed with everyone a while back when we all keep asking her that question.” Gibbs just smirks at that. “But yes, I’m fine.” 

“Fine ain’t good.” 

“It ain’t bad either.” You bite back as you take a sip of your drink. Your eyes find their way to the dance floor and you quickly look away when you see how close Jack and Sarah are dancing, their foreheads resting against one another despite the loud music. They looked happy. Gibbs’ eyebrows are raised knowingly when you look back at him and you stick your tongue out in response, downing the rest of your drink as you head to the bar. You order another lemonade despite how much you’re tempted to order something a lot stronger. You’re just collecting your drink when a pretty redhead comes up to you. “Hi. I’m Maya” 

The woman extends her hand and you shake it. “Y/N.” You smile. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” 

You signal to your already full glass of lemonade. “I’ve already got one.” 

“Ok...How about some company?” You look at Maya and then to the dance floor to Jack. She’s being spun around the dance floor by Sarah and looks blissfully happy.

“Sure.” Your smile is small but this was the right thing to do. Time to move on. You sit down on the stool behind you and Maya sits next to you. She’s a little smaller than you, in a short bodycon dress that hugs her petite body. 

“So, what brings you here tonight?” 

You smile as you signal to the dance floor with your head. “Drinks with coworkers. How about you?” 

Maya shrugs. “Just fancied getting out of the house. What do you do for work?” You both fall into easy conversation, her face lights up when you explain your job. She’s a technical specialist and works for a startup company you hadn’t heard of. Your mind drifts away from work and Jack as you focus on the woman in front of you. Her hand is drawing patterns on your leg as you talk and she’s got a devilish smirk on her face. 

She kisses you and you only pull away when you hear Nick’s whoop from the dance floor. You roll your eyes at him not noticing Jack’s face dropping as she heads back to the table. You flirt back and forth for a while more but it isn’t long before the kisses become more often and more heated. “Do you want to get out of here?” She asks, her green eyes twinkling. 

“Sure, let me just grab my stuff and say goodbye to my friends.” You leave with a promise to return in a minute and head back over to the table. You’re grabbing your coat and bag when you notice Jack and Sarah arguing in the corner of the room. You can’t hear them from here but Tim notices your concerned expression and follows your eyes. “They’ve been arguing for the last few minutes. I think Jack wants to go home but Sarah’s kicking off.”

Sarah storms off and Jack frustratedly runs a hand through her hair, palm slamming against the wall. You look back at Maya chewing your lip and then against your better judgement place your stuff back down and head over to Jack. 

“Hey, what’s happened? Are you ok?” You touch Jack’s shoulder and she jumps back at the contact, she’s wiping at her eyes and doesn’t look at you as she speaks.

“Yeah I’m fine, I just want to go home.” 

“Where’s Sarah? I can take you home.” Jack’s phone pings from her pocket and she pulls it out, her face dropping as she reads the text. 

“She left.” Jack shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Let me take you home.” You touch her arm again and this time she doesn’t pull away but looks to you and then over your shoulder. 

She clears her throat. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening, I can get an uber.” You look between Maya and Jack but you know your decision is already made.

“It’s fine. Let’s go grab our stuff.” You guide her back to the table, leaving her to collect her bag and say goodbye to the team as you make your way over to Maya. “I’m really sorry-” 

Maya cuts you off with a hand. “It’s okay. Friends first, I get it.” She turns around and walks away and you make your way back to Jack. Your hand ghosts her waist as you say goodbye to the team and guide her from the bar. Ellie gives you a very pointed look that you ignore. 

Her apartment isn’t too far from the bar so it doesn’t take long to drive there. You park the car and Jack waves off any attempt for your help as she makes her way to her apartment. You follow behind anyway and when she unlocks the door she leaves it open which you take as an invitation to come in. She stumbles off in the direction of, you assume, her bedroom and you head to the kitchen and fill up a large glass of water and grab the painkillers you were sure she was going to need in the morning. 

Jack’s lying on her bed, dressed in an oversized green army t-shirt. Your eyes notice the clothes littering the floor but pay them no mind as you make your way over. “Sit up and drink this.” You say softly, perching next to her on the edge of the bed. Jack props herself up slightly, leaning against the headboard as she takes small sips. 

“Thank you,” Jack mutters, passing you back the now half-empty glass and you place it on her side table so it’s there in the morning. 

“It’s okay.” The room is dark, the only light coming from the hallway but it’s enough for you to be able to make out Jack’s face as she sinks further into the pillows. Her eyes are teary as she stares at you. 

“I miss you.” 

You clear your throat, suddenly desperate to be out of this room. “I should go.” You start to get up but she grabs your hand, stilling you. Your eyes squeeze shut as you curse Jack for never making anything easy for you and take a deep breath before turning back to her.

“Please don’t go.” Her eyes plead and you wish you had the willpower to refuse, but instead, you just sink back into the area you’d just vacated. 

“Did you want to talk about what happened with Sarah?” 

Jack shakes her head. Her eyes are wide when they stare at you. “You don’t like her much, do you?” 

Your mouth snaps open, not prepared for that question. “I like her if she makes you happy.” You finally say, shrugging. “And she does, doesn’t she?” 

Jack nods.

“Good.” Her eyes close as she sinks back into the pillows. She’s laying on top of the covers, her toned legs out and you try very hard to not look at them or at the t-shirt that’s sitting dangerously high on her thighs. When she doesn’t move after a few more minutes you think she’s fallen asleep and you go to move from the bed but her hand flies out again stopping you. You sigh. “Jack, I need to get home.” 

When you turn back to face her you don’t expect her to be so close. She’s sitting up and your eyes squeeze shut when her hand comes up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before her fingers softly brush down your jawline. You hold back a whimper as her touch sets you on fire. She’s so close you can feel her breath against your cheek “Jack” It’s a plea, for her to stop or continue you don’t know but when you slowly open your eyes and turn to face her you can see an ocean of emotions whirling through her eyes. All you’d have to do is lean forward a few inches and your lips would touch but as she takes a shaky breath you smell the alcohol waft from her mouth and instantly rip away from her, standing from the bed and moving to the other side of the room. She’s drunk.

You can feel her eyes on you but you can’t look at her as your hands squeeze tightly in fists and you try to control the rage and sorrow that’s building within you. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You barely make it out of her apartment before your hand flies to your mouth to cover the onset of loud sobs that rip from your throat. Tears are spilling down your cheeks in streams as you lean back against the wall, the hard stone scratching your back helps to keep you grounded enough as you try to swallow back your cries. It takes you 10 minutes to calm down enough to get to your car and then the sobs are back with fall force. It’s another 30 minutes before they subside, and only then are you able to drive yourself home.

----

You don’t feel anything but numb when you wake up the next morning. You robotically get ready for the day, following the actions of your routine without any thought. You don’t even remember your journey to work only coming too once a car behind you beeps prompting you to drive into a parking space. Ellie’s the only one in when you get off the elevator and she hands you a coffee cup in greeting. 

“Thanks.” You respond, taking a sip of the coffee and enjoying the burning sensation that followed. It felt nice to feel something. 

“Did you get home ok?” She asks, following you as you make your way to your desk. Her voice is full of concern and you see the thousand different questions she wants to ask.

“Yeah. I dropped Jack home and then went home myself.” You shrug and Ellie’s eyes narrow as she watches you set up for the day. 

“And that’s it?” The disbelief in Ellie’s tone makes you bristle. 

“Yes, that’s it.” Your tone is sharp and Ellie’s hands hold up in mock surrender as she backs away from your desk. 

You keep your head buried in your work for the next hour and no one bothers you as Ellie signals to them that you were in a bad mood when they arrive. It would irk you but you’re too relieved to not have to put on a front for them that you let it pass. You only look up from your desk when Gibbs enters the room, “Grab your gear. We’ve got a body.”  

Gibbs gets you to bag and tag evidence which you’re thankful for because it means you don’t have to interview any witnesses or family and means you could pretty much work undisturbed and in silence, as you focus on the familiar routine. It takes less than 2 hours though and before you know it you’re all on your way back to the navy yard. 

Jack’s standing in the middle of the bullpen when you get off the elevator and it causes you to halt in your tracks. Nick walks into you at your sudden stop. “What the-” 

You clear your throat, “Sorry.” Jack is watching you closely as you make your way further into the room. When you finally meet her eyes she offers you a hesitant smile. You swallow roughly but do the same.  

“Feeling alright this morning Jack?” Gibbs asks as he takes his seat at his desk finally drawing Jack’s attention from you. You sit down at your desk. A light blush hits Jack’s cheeks and she clears her throat. 

“Yes, thank you. Would it be okay to borrow Y/N for a few minutes?” Gibbs’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Jack never asked permission and you wondered if she was hoping for him to say no. 

“Yeah sure.” Gibbs nods, turning his attention to his computer. Jack’s fiddling with her hands, radiating the nerves you feel yourself when she looks to you. Every part of you is screaming to stay exactly where you are but everyone is already watching you and this conversation needs to be had, so you rise from your chair, avoiding everyone’s (especially Jack’s) eyes as you head to her office. 

You stand in the middle of the room awkwardly, unsure what to do as she shuts the door behind her.“I wanted to apologise, I shouldn’t have...with the touching and the almost...” She trails off, clearing her throat as her eyes fall to your lips.

“It’s fine.” Your voice is hoarse. Jack’s watching you closely but you can’t bring yourself to look up to her, wanting nothing more than to run from the room. It’s only when Jack steps closer that your eyes snap up. She wants to reach out, pull you into a hug, but instead, she stays still and begins fiddling with her hands again. You cough. “You were drunk. You didn’t know what you were doing.” 

“Right.” Jack nods, shame shining brightly in her eyes. “But we’re okay, right?” 

“Yeah. Of course.” You manage a small smile but it does nothing to deflate Jack’s nerves. She smiles at you and all you can think about is her fingers stroking your jaw and her breath brushing your lips. You clear your throat. “Well, I should get back. To the case.” 

Jack nods, stepping away from the door. “Yes, of course.” You move to walk past her but she stops you with a feather-light touch to your arm. You still jolt in surprise. Tears shine in Jack’s eyes as she scans your face. She’s looking for something, you don’t know what, but you don’t think she finds it as her shoulders deflate, a sad sigh escaping her lips as she steps back. “I’ll see you later.” She walks towards her desk and you exit the room as you struggle to breathe. 

You couldn’t do this anymore. 

You couldn’t work with her every day. You couldn’t be around her. 

You love her so much it was destroying you.

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1974

Under the cut.

Steve Miller Band – “The Joker” -- January 12, 1974

It always throws me when I remember how old this song is. Two years older than me, and yet I associate it with my own mid-20s partying. Okay, my "partying" was pretty mild. One of the things my friends and I often did was go to a dueling piano (really keyboard) bar, and they always played this song. I can taste the rum and Coke now. We had tipsy discussions about what "pompatus" meant. A guy tried to pick one of my friends up with "really love your peaches." Anyway, I love this song, but it's also so embedded into my life that I can't judge it fairly.

Al Wilson – “Show And Tell” -- January 19, 1974

1970s Philly R&B is great music. This is a pretty typical example of the genre; lots of strings, lots of horns, an adult with a voice he uses like an instrument to impart strong emotions. It's a love song, and the lyrics aren't anything spectacular, but they do the job. Very good.

Ringo Starr – “You’re Sixteen” -- January 26, 1974

GAH. Next!

Barbra Streisand – “The Way We Were” -- February 2, 1974

I was tempted to write, "GAH. Next!" here too, but I'm determined to save that kind of thing for songs that have elements to them that I don't want to discuss because of moral issues. That's not this. The problem is: I hate Barbra Streisand. Or I should say I hate her singing; though from what I've seen of her personality, I don't like that either. Every song she sings, she sounds like she's singing to the glory of the greatness of the only person who matters to her in the world: Barbra Streisand. I once read an article that called her singing "masturbatory," but that's not strong enough. It's full-on self-worship. I hate it.

The Love Unlimited Orchestra – “Love’s Theme” -- February 9, 1974

This is Barry White's orchestra, but sadly it's an instrumental, without his glorious voice. It reminds me so much of the Love Boat theme that now I'm wanting to watch it. Absolute kitsch, but as kitsch goes, there's worse.

Terry Jacks – “Seasons In The Sun” -- March 2, 1974

The singer is dying and saying goodbye to everyone. That kind of sentiment may be made to work in pop, I suppose, but I've never heard it done. It belongs in opera. This is schmaltz.

Cher – “Dark Lady” -- March 23, 1974

As one of only a couple dark-haired dark-eyed girls in my quite blonde high school graduating class, people used to call me "exotic." Apparently my high cheekbones had something to do with it too. I was asked where my family was from pretty regularly. I wasn't offended --  more bemused. The answer is "Europe," though I guess the dark hair and eyes are probably by way of France. It's rather tough to say, considering my mother's side of the family has been here since the 16th century (indentured servants), and were not the rich types who stuck to their own ethnicity. Anyway, this is to say that I feel some kinship with Cher, and how drawn she was to songs like "Dark Lady." Though in this case, the "dark lady" is someone Cher's character murders for cheating with her boyfriend. She kills the boyfriend too.

This song is dated ("gypsy music") Las Vegas cheese, and yet I like it. It's wildly melodramatic and fun.

John Denver – “Sunshine On My Shoulders” -- March 30, 1974

Bleeeeeh. I like big melodramatic songs. This is the opposite. Now, I do like small, sweet songs often too. But I just can't with this one. It's too slow, too simple, and feels aggressively, shallowly cheery.

Blue Swede – “Hooked On A Feeling” -- April 6, 1974

I learned from the Todd in the Shadows video about this song that its stupid "ooga chaka" thing was inspired by 1960's "Running Bear." Now I hate it even more! The original of this song is a nice, simple love song. Blue Swede made it shouty and dumb.

Elton John – “Bennie And The Jets” -- April 13, 1974

It's Elton John. Therefore I don't like it. I feel like it's too slow maybe? I feel like most of Elton John's songs are too slow maybe. I don't know. I'm bored.

MFSB & The Three Degrees’ “TSOP (The Sound Of Philadelphia)” -- April 20, 1974

An instrumental disco track. It is one I find danceable, so there's that. Not bad.

Grand Funk – “The Loco-Motion” -- May 4, 1974

A rock cover of The Loco-Motion. Sure, why not. Though this version is not very good. It feels like they slowed it down, and they definitely made it extremely loud. I don't really see a reason for this song to exist.

Ray Stevens – “The Streak” -- May 18, 1974

Streaking was a fad in 1974. This is a comedy song about it. I had never heard it before this, and I hope never to again. It's deeply dumb.

Paul McCartney & Wings – “Band On The Run” -- June 8, 1974

The wee-oo-wee-oo-wee-oo thing at the beginning of the song sounds neat, but then it goes on too long. That's my feeling about this entire song: It goes on too long. It does change up substantially multiple times throughout, but it's no Bohemian Rhapsody. Bohemian Rhapsody is, imo, perfect. The pacing of "Band on the Run," otoh, is a mess. The second section needs to be a lot longer and the final section needs to be a lot shorter. Paul McCartney needed an editor for this.

Bo Donaldson And The Heywoods – “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero” -- June 15, 1974

A young woman tells her boyfriend to not "be a hero" when he goes off to war (probably the Civil War.) Because she wants him to come home alive. As anyone who knows this kind of song can predict, he decides to be a hero and dies. Cliche and weirdly bouncy for the subject matter. Still, at least songs were acknowledging that dying in war was not a great thing. Unlike the putrescent "Ballad of the Green Berets."

Gordon Lightfoot – “Sundown” -- June 29, 1974

The singer is jealously obsessed with a woman. He knows this isn't a good thing, but he doesn't seem able to -- or be trying to -- move past it. This is about something real; Gordon Lightfoot was obsessively, violently jealous over Cathy Smith, the woman who was later convicted for injecting John Belushi with the heroin that killed him. The lyrics are mean, but the music doesn't go hard at all. Except, compared to the rest of the stuff I've looked at for 1974 so far, the music does sound a lot harder -- it's minor key and there's a distinct bassline. It still feels like a mismatch.

The Hues Corporation – “Rock The Boat” -- July 6, 1974

A disco song I can dance to some. Not entirely. It's a song asking you not to "rock the boat" of your perfect love with the singer. It's incredibly schmaltzy -- schmaltzy disco. Ugh.

George McCrae – “Rock Your Baby” -- July 13, 1974

The singer is telling you, "woman," to take him in your arms and rock him. I.e. fuck him. I have perfect pitch. George McCrae is no Ella Fitzgerald. When he goes to the high note, he does not hit it right, and it's like nails on a chalkboard. I can't listen to this song all the way through.

John Denver – “Annie’s Song” -- July 27, 1974

Ugh, 1974. This is a simplistic love song to John Denver's wife. Not just simple, which is fine, but simplistic, which is not. They divorced years later, and Denver became violent during it. (Denver's the one who brought that to light and he obviously felt terrible about it.) The Stereogum guy was shocked by this. I'm not. For one, celebrity is horrible for people. For another, I can't think of any of Denver's songs that have depth or complexity. Trying to live at the surface is also horrible for people. I do like a lot of simple love songs, but John Denver's songs have always made me go "ick," even when I was a child. I feel like there's nothing in them.

Roberta Flack – “Feel Like Makin’ Love” -- August 10, 1974

The music to this song, with the calm but interesting percussion and romantic guitar, combined with Roberta Flack's whispery vocals, is lovely. It gives me asmr feels and makes me want to lie down and drift off to sleep. So, uh. Not exactly what I consider a sexy song. I do like listening to it, as it's nice and calming, but I don't think that was the intent.

Paper Lace – “The Night Chicago Died” -- August 17, 1974

And I will definitely need some relaxation after this garbage. Okay so, this travesty was by Brits who: 1) Thought there was an East Side of Chicago. That's Lake Michigan. 2) Thought it would be cute to write a song in which Al Capone tried to literally take over Chicago by killing all the cops (he bribed cops, he didn't kill them, and he was a criminal, not an insurrectionary.) 3) Sing "glory be" because they obviously think that's a super American thing to do. "In the land of the dollar bill." WHAT? This song makes me want to punt Paper Lace into the East Side of Chicago.

Paul Anka – “(You’re) Having My Baby” -- August 24, 1974

Notoriously one of the worst pop songs ever. The singer thinks "you" (that makes it worse) are having his baby solely and only because you love him. Monumental narcissism, just completely heinous, plus it's musical glop.

Eric Clapton – “I Shot The Sheriff” -- September 14, 1974

This is not Bob Marley's version. Bob Marley's version is so much better, and it's the one I've heard a lot, so when I turned this one on I was confused for a second.

Barry White – “Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe” -- September 21, 1974

Oh thank god. Barry White is one of my favorite singers, and this is one of my favorite songs. This is a sexy love song by a great artist.

Andy Kim – “Rock Me Gently” -- September 28, 1974

Andy Kim's voice sounds incredibly mid-70s. What's with men asking their lovers to rock them this year? The chorus is pretty good, and has a real beat. He's asking his lover to be gentle, and "I have never been loved like this before." That's nice. It's cheese, but it's fine.

Olivia Newton-John – “I Honestly Love You” -- October 5, 1974

A lot of the time when someone says they "honestly" something without prompting, they're lying. So this song sounds weird to me. "I love you/ I honestly love you" -- um, you sure about that? Though the singer has no reason to pretend she loves the person she's singing to, and every reason not to, since they're both with someone else. She just wants to tell you she loves you and leave it at that. Yeah, that's likely. Olivia Newton-John is a good singer, and she's especially good at acting a song. I feel she should have been on Broadway. In any case, while this is a slow soft song in an era with way too many of those, it's one of the better ones. It's not overly slow or particularly goopy.

Billy Preston – “Nothing From Nothing” -- October 19, 1974

If there's such a thing as vaudeville rock, this is it. He doesn't want to be your hero or your highness, so it sounds like he wants an equal relationship. He also says "I'm a soldier in the war on poverty," which makes it sounds like he's saying you have to have money if you want to get with him, but maybe not. He sings "you gotta bring a little something, girl, if you want to be with me," which may or may not be monetary. It's bouncy and all, but Billy Preston's done better.

Dionne Warwick & The Spinners – “Then Came You” -- October 26, 1974

A song about finally finding love. Plenty of good orchestration, a good beat, and of course Dionne Warwick's voice. I like it.

Stevie Wonder – “You Haven’t Done Nothin'” -- November 2, 1974

The "you" in this song is Richard Nixon. Stevie Wonder is one of the most love everyone, let's all come together artists in existence. But here, he was angry. "We would not care to wake up to the nightmare/ That's becoming real life/ But when misled who knows a person's mind/ Can turn as cold as ice." The Republican Party is still Nixon's party -- they love him almost as much as they do Reagan. This song is funky and good and the only reason I don't feel it more is that it's not angry enough.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive – “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet” -- November 9, 1974

They were goofing around in the studio, and lead singer Randy Bachman wanted to make fun of his brother's stutter. When this song became a hit, Randy was mortified. But even with nasty, juvenile intentions behind it, this song is good. It also sounds happy and not mean at all. It's a rather silly song about first experiencing sex, and it's fun.

John Lennon – “Whatever Gets You Thru The Night” -- November 16, 1974

John Lennon's voice was always kinda nasal, but it's really nasal on this song. Anyway, this song may as well be called "you do you." It's a song that in theory I should not find boring, but in practice I do. I have finally found out why: Elton John helped him with it. It sounds very Elton John-ish. Which means I don't really have anything else to say.

Billy Swan – “I Can Help” -- November 23, 1974

Some old-fashioned rockability is a nice change. The singer sees that the woman needs some help, so "let me help." "I got two strong arms/ Let me help." I immediately think of a romance between a farmhand and a widow woman. "It would sure do me good to do you good." That's a pretty concise description of love. Billy Swain's voice is kinda thin; Elvis did a cover of this, and it's a lot better. Billy Swain's version is sweet and all, but Elvis' is irresistible.

Carl Douglas – “Kung Fu Fighting” -- December 7, 1974

This isn't a song about actual kung fu; it's about kung fu movies. It's a fanboy telling you all about the cool movie he just saw, though not telling you a thing about the plot. Just the "expert timing" and stuff. Trying to analyze "Kung Fu Fighting" feels really silly. It's a rare enjoyable novelty song by an actual musician.

Harry Chapin – “Cat’s In The Cradle” -- December 21, 1974

A cover of this song by Ugly Kid Joe became a hit in 1992. And it was massively overplayed, so I hate this song. This father/son stuff bores me anyway, speaking of overplayed.

Helen Reddy – “Angie Baby” -- December 28, 1974

This song is deeply strange, which is a mark in its favor. It's a story song about a girl who has no friends and had to be taken out of school because she's "a little touched." She lives in a world of make-believe, listening to the radio all the time. A neighbor boy comes along to rape her. But as soon as he walks into her room... "Toward the radio he's bound/ Never to be found." He becomes her "secret lover," trapped in the radio. "It's so nice to be insane/ No one asks you to explain." Is Angie really "insane," or is she a sorceress whose rock n' roll powers everyone looks away from? Both? I'm not sure what I think of this song, but it is interesting, and that's always good.

BEST OF 1974 -- "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe" by Barry White WORST OF 1974 -- "(You're) Having My Baby" by Paul Anka

[spiritvinex]

marichat may day 3

hi peoples! here’s my twist on marichat may day 3: mouse!

it’s a little late, sorry! but i based this chapter off of the movie 'cinderella - a twist in time' with a little bit of my own twists! enjoy, i really liked this chapter and the next one should be up shortly!

read it on ao3!

@marichatmay​

This couldn’t be happening. It was like a dream that Marinette never wanted to wake up from and now she was back. Marinette whispered, “I-I don’t understand.” 

Her stepmother had forbidden her to go to the ball, but she had anyway. With some luck, her Fairy Godmother had shown up to save her, allowing her to go to the ball with a glorious dress. Even with curfew at midnight, the night went better than she had expected. A dance with the Prince? It was almost too good to be true. 

But was it real? The slipper had fit Chloe. Was this just some silly dream she had thought of while sleeping? 

Marinette stood up, gathering the remaining pieces of her glass slipper that her stepmother, Lady Bourgeois, had broken, the only evidence of the night she had just experienced. Looking into the glass, she imagined the dance. Her in a beautiful, sparkling gown, moving through the night with the masked prince, Chat Noir. Marinette sniffled. 

“I have always dreamed that my life would be like a fairy tale, a perfect fantasy. Was it nothing more than a dream?” She stood up. Her tattered dress, flowing at her feet. Just one magic night, a single dance, had turned her life into a storybook romance. If she were to forget it ever happened, Marinette would live forever with a broken heart. 

Facing the stairs, Marinette saw Mullo and Tikki, her mice friends on the stairs. Mullo was crying on Marinette’s behalf as Tikki comforted her. “Don’t cry, Mullo! Princey knows that Mari was the one he danced with!” 

Marinette froze. Wide-eyed she turned to her little mice. “Yes, of course he does! Oh, if I just see him again, he’ll recognize me and everything will be alright!” She scooped them up, gently hugging them in excitement. 

Marinette burst out of the manor doors, Mullo and Tikki tucked safely away in her pocket, and ran down the steps to the path, headed straight towards the Prince’s castle. She found love in his arms the first time, now she had a chance to try again. If she couldn’t trust her heart to believe in that moment, how would she ever know? There was no way for her dreams to come true if she just waited. 

She bounded through the fields, hope in her heart for the life that was awaiting her. At the peak of the hill she stared, breathlessly, at the castle shining in all its glory. “I want so much more than a dream.” 

»»——————-««

Marinette sneaked to the servant’s entrance behind the castle. Peering over the corner, she saw many men carrying large stacks of cheese into the hall. Trying not to be suspicious, Marinette marched up to the cart of cheese and picked up one of the heavy mounds. She struggled to walk, but made her way to the man who looked strangely like a gorilla. He glared down at her, eyes narrowing. She pulled her sweetest smile, then he grunted and gestured for her to move on. 

She scurried into the hall, setting the cheese down quickly. Marinette walked towards the kitchen, but was at once stopped by the head maid, Nathalie. “And who are you? I know every maid in this castle and I don’t recognize you!”

Marinette blanched. She felt the mice jump out of her pocket and run towards the end of the room. “U-uh, I-I’m the…,” she stared at her friends, gesturing with her hands to go, “I’m the, uh, royal mouse catcher!”

Nathalie’s eyes narrowed. “Royal mouse catcher? I assure you, in all my years working here, I have ever, ever seen a single-,” A crash resounded from the kitchen as one of the cooks screeched: “Mouse!”

Nathalie spun around and ran into the kitchen, Marinette following quickly at her feet. The cooks were running around, trying to avoid the chaos the mice were causing. Nathalie took the matter into her own hand and lunged to capture Mullo. Mullo managed to evade her and ran to hide with Tikki. Nathalie stared, wide-eyed and turned to Marinette. She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “You,” she huffed, “Go along and do your job.”

“Oh! Right. Of course, ma’am,” she curtsied and ran off to find the prince. 

 »»——————-««

Chloe sat nervously, unsure for once in her life if she knew what she wanted. Her, Lila, and her mother sat anxiously, awaiting the prince’s arrival. 

“Now, now, Chloe,” her mother cooed, “Don’t you fret, we have a magic wand now. Nothing could possibly go wrong.”

Chloe swallowed. Of course. The prince would fall in love with her and everything would be okay. Nothing could go wrong.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and the masked prince from the night before bounded through. He looked straight at Chloe, and his smile faltered. “Ah, I apologize, ladies, I must have entered the wrong room.”

He turned to leave but her mother stopped him. “No, no, my Prince. You are not mistaken. This is my daughter, Chloe, the maiden with whom you danced at the ball.”

Face contorted, Chat Noir said to Chloe, “You fit the shoe?”

Chloe stiffened. She could feel her mother’s burning gaze on her, and so she nodded. “Yes, your highness. I am the maiden from the ball last night.”

Slowly, Chat Noir moved back. Clearly confused at the situation before him. He didn’t notice the white wand that was discreetly pointed at him, or the words said by Chloe’s mother. 

The prince’s eyes suddenly glazed over for a second. Then, as if shocked, they cleared up again. “Of course! I do remember you!” he ran forward, taking up her hand, “I apologize, I don’t know what came over me!”

Chloe was startled. She desperately looked to her mother for assistance, but was only given a nod towards the prince. She grimaced. She turned back to look at him, but instead found a ring held in front of her by the kneeling prince himself. 

“Lady Chloe. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Chloe spluttered, but remembered her mother’s purpose. “Y-yes. Of course, my prince.”

He grinned, sliding the gorgeous ring onto her finger. He bounced up, “We will be wed as soon as possible. I will let my father know!” He pressed a kiss to her hand, and happily walked out of the room. 

A hand was laid to Chloe’s shoulder, “Good job, Chloe,” her mother sneered, “Now, let’s move along. There is much to prepare for.”

Lila followed her mother out the door, sticking her tongue out at her sister. Chloe stared down, still unsure of how she felt about these events. 

»»——————-««

Out of breath, Marinette hurried down the hall. She turned to make sure she was not being followed, but was unsuspecting when she ran into a broad chest. “Ah! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” She looked up, surprised to see the familiar green eyes of the Prince. 

“Oh, Chat Noir! It’s…,” she blushed, “It certainly is nice to see you again.”

Chat Noir tilted his head. “Um, sorry, but do I know you?”

Confusion flew over Marinette until she remembered what a big jokester he was. She laughed. “Oh, and I suppose you don’t remember our dance at the ball last night?”

“I apologize, but I really don’t know who you are. There was only one girl I danced with last night and that was Lady Chloe!”

Marinette’s face fell. “L-Lady Chloe?!”

“Yes! And I’m going to marry her! Tonight!”

Marinette couldn’t believe this. He didn’t dance with Chloe last night! “B-but, there must be some misunderstanding, I-”

 She was cut off. “You there! Royal mouse catcher!” Nathalie was marching towards her, and grabbed a hold of her arm, “I need you to rid the castle of each and every mouse by tonight. The prince is getting married and the castle needs to be in top shape!” She stopped when she saw the prince, and quickly released Marinette’s arm. “Ah, Chat Noir! Did you need this servant?”

Chat Noir shook his head and smiled. “No, Nathalie, there was just some confusion.”

Nathalie nodded and proceeded to pull Marinette back down to the kitchen. Marinette longingly glanced back at the Prince, who was unaffected by the departure. She felt her heart break slightly. 

Nathalie pushed her into the room. “Now, I need you to rid the castle of these mice. I expect you to be done before the wedding starts.” She slammed the door and Marinette fell to the ground. Her heart felt empty from what she just experienced with the Prince. It was a dream. Nothing more, and she had hurt herself from hoping in the process. 

Her eyes filled with tears. There was nothing more she could do. The Prince didn’t love her, he loved Chloe. The night that had Marinette clinging to, in hope that it was real, was nothing more than her imagination. But yet, she couldn’t seem to let go. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the scurrying of mice as they ran inside the room towards her. “Mari! Mari! You won’t believe it!”

“What happened? Is something wrong?”

“Stepmother has the magic wand! She put a spell on Princey! We saw her!” Mullo cried. 

“Magic? A spell?” It all made sense. The Prince didn’t remember her because of magic! She just had to make him remember! “Thank you, guys! We still have a chance!”

The mice dashed back into the wall, and Marinette ran to the room in which her stepmother and sisters resided. They were very loud, the echoes resounding throughout the whole castle, leading her straight to them. 

She heard a crash from inside, here stepmother’s voice calling out for a maid. Marinette tied a bonnet, lowering it to attempt to cover her face. She cleared her throat and knocked. The door was opened and she walked over the spilt water and glass shards. 

“You certainly came fast,” Lila sneered. 

Marinette coughed. “Yes, we are very good.”

She picked up a rag and slowly started to scrub the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mullo and Tikki crawling up the drawer, where the wand must have been placed.

Marinette could feel that she was being watched. Her stepmother's footsteps grew closer. “Well. This is a surprise, isn’t it, Marinette?”

She snatched the bonnet off of her head. Both Lila and Chloe gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Why, clearly, girls, she came to stop us. She didn’t heed my warning, and now, here she is. Oh, what would the King say if he knew a dirty scullery maid had snuck into his own castle? He would banish you for good,” Lady Bourgeois sighed. “Such a pity.”

Lila cackled and ran to call the guards. Marinette glanced at Mullo who finally grabbed the wand and threw it up to Tikki.  Marinette shouted, “Tikki, the wand! Now!”

The wand flew through the air and was caught by Marinette. She cast a spell towards Lila and Chloe to deter them as she ran out the door. Behind her, she heard Lady Bourgeois screaming for the guards. 

She sped down the hallway and made her way to the foyer. The guards were close behind. She shut the doors quickly and slid a sword, from one of the standing knights, through the handles. Immediately, they began to push on the door. 

She only had a few seconds to make a plan. She hurried down the steps, when the doors burst open, letting that guards run in, but also the Prince. He must have heard all the racket. She took her chance. “Break the spell! Make him remember!” She pointed the wand at him, but it was snatched out of her hand just before the spell was cast. 

The Prince ran towards her. “What’s going on?” he demanded. 

“Ah, just a petty thief snuck into our room,” Lady Bourgeois smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ll have her taken care of accordingly. We wouldn’t want the wedding to be disrupted because of her.”

Furiously, Marinette cried, “No! You have to remember! She cast a spell on you!” She reached out her hand, desperate to touch his. When their hands met, a wave of surprise flew over the Prince’s face. Before he could act on anything, Marinette was carried out of the room by the guards, “You’re under a spell, that’s why you don’t remember me!”

Chat Noir frowned. 

“Poor child. Obviously, out of her mind.” Lady Bourgeois linked her arm with his and strolled out of the room. 

»»——————-««

The Prince paced back and forth, behind his father’s fitting. “I just don’t understand it, Father. Last night, I felt something. But with Lady Chloe, it was nothing like before. And… then there was that girl.”

The King sighed. “What girl, Adrien? Remember, you are to marry Lady Chloe tonight. I agreed to your terms to marry the girl who fit the slipper, and you already found that girl.”

“Yes, Father, I know, but,” Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose. “Remember when you were telling me about Mother? How when your hands touched, you knew it was true love? Well, I think I found that, but it definitely wasn’t with Chloe. But when that maid touched my hand, it felt right.”

He zoned out, thinking about the turn of events, when he heard a small squeaking noise, coming from the fabric closet. He took a closer look, and was startled to find two mice jumping up and down, gesturing for him to come inside. He glanced at his father, who was completely distracted, then walked inside. 

“Hello? Uh, little mice?” He looked around, and found nothing. He scoffed, “Great, it’s official, I’ve lost my mind. First I’m confused about the ball, and now I’m talking to imaginary mice.”

He moved to leave the room, but stopped when the curtains were pulled open by two small bluebirds. The light shined, enhancing the mice who were calling, “Hey, Prince-Prince! Down here!”

Okay. Maybe not so imaginary. 

The two mice started blabbering. He sat down, trying to comprehend their words. “Hold on, I think I understand!” he paused, “Actually, I got nothing.”

The mice stopped and looked at each other. Then, the one in the little red dress gasped. It ran to the music box and winded it up. The ballerina on top began to spin, and the mouse with the blue dress jumped up and began to dance.

“You were dancing with a very pretty girl!”

The other mouse ran down some books, leaving a single shoe behind. “At midnight, she ran off! Well, her name was Mari, she’s the servant girl you met! She’s the one you want to marry! You can’t forget!” They began to dance together, “Mari was the maiden at the ball!”

Intrigued, Adrien leaned forward, “That can’t be. I danced with Chloe at the ball!”

“No, no! Princey only thinks that because of Mari’s stepmother!”

“Yeah, that mean old lady!” Mullo added. 

“With her magic wand, she cast a wicked spell, which is why poor Princey isn’t feeling well! You’ve forgotten Mari and the dance you shared that night at the ball!”

Adrien swallowed. “Woah, woah, woah, wait. You’re telling me I’m under a magic spell?”

The red dress mouse replied, “And here’s the worst part! When Mari tried to make things right and take a stand, the mean, old lady had her banished from the land! Now she’s on a ship, that will take her far away! So, it’s up to Princey-Prince to go and save the day!”

“Magic?” It all made sense. He looked at his hand; that’s why he felt something. Chloe wasn’t his true love. “I have to find her.” He bolted from the room. 

He ran past his father. “I have to go!”

“Go? What do you mean? But you’re about to be married!”

“But the talking mice say she’s the wrong girl!” He pulled open the doors and continued to sprint.

His father chased after him. “Son? Talking mice? This is ridiculous, Adrien! You agreed to marry the girl who fit the glass slipper! I was completely with you on that one!”

“Yes, Father, I will marry that girl. But Lady Chloe isn’t her. I just have to find the right one.”

“Adrien! I forbid you to take another step down these stairs!” his father shouted. Adrien stopped and turned around. He glanced towards the window and smiled. “Okay.”

He ran and leapt out of the window, hearing his father’s call behind him. He grabbed a hold of the vine that was cascading down the wall. Climbing down he called for his horse, Plagg. Plagg came running and Adrien jumped on, speeding towards the gates.  

His father called for him again. Adrien pulled Plagg to a stop. “Father you have to trust me.”

“Son, I do trust you. It’s the talking mice I’m worried about!”

Nathalie called for the gates to be closed, and Adrien took off again, just making it under. 

“I’ll send the troops off for him at once, your Majesty!”

“No need, Nathalie. Let him go.” The King shook his head with a small smile, recalling the crazy acts a person will do for love. 

»»——————-««

Marinette sat in a small wagon, hay laid on the floor, acting as a cushion under her. The guards stood in front of her, making sure that she could not escape. Her eyes were puffy from crying. She failed to make the Prince remember her. And now he loved Chloe and not her. 

A different guard approached her. “Time to go.” 

She pulled herself off the wagon, and slowly made her way to the ship. Before she walked up the board, she looked back at the castle. It still shone white in the light, reminding her of a lost adventure. Feeling defeated, she walked aboard the ship. 

The perfect fantasy that Marinette imagined was just a fairytale. Her hopes made her believe in something that could not be real. It was nothing more than a dream. 

The ship was unanchored and the sails were pulled loose. Marinette sat on a barrel, staring out to the sea, as the ship began to leave. 

A yell and a ripping sound pulled Marinette out of her reverie. She jumped up and spun around. A man with blonde hair was sliding down the mast, tearing it as his knife ran through it. He jumped down and looked around. He ran up the steps to reach Marinette.

The Prince came for her? Her heart thumped in her chest, once again rekindling the hope she had before. 

“Remember me?” he asked. 

She smiled. He reached for her hand, holding it up linking their fingers together. As soon as they touched, a spark ran through, making her feel warm and loved. 

Marinette laughed and jumped into his arms. He spun her around, holding her tight. Once he released her, he knelt down. “Will you marry me, Mari?”

A blush spread on Marinette’s face. “Yes, but…,” she giggled, “it’s Marinette.”

He laughed. “Marinette!”

He alerted the crew to turn the ship around. He rode with Marinette back to the castle, elated at the twist of events. 

»»——————-««

When they arrived at the castle, it was made aware that the Bourgeois family fled, only leaving behind a single white wand. 

And, of course, Marinette and Prince Adrien were wed immediately. Marinette in the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen, one thanks to her Fairy Godmother. 

Adrien, who she formerly knew as Chat Noir, was happy he finally found his bride, his true love, just as his father had when he was young. 

Everything was perfect. Almost like a dream come true.

[benhardyisdaddy]

Say Cheese

MASTERLIST 

(HELLO I HAD TO WRITE A LITTLE SOMETHING BASED OFF OF THIS GLORIOUS SOFT AF PIC SO I HOPE U ALL LIKE IT ILY <3)

Word Count: 1,516

“Do you think I could chug this whole pint in under a minute?”

Celebratory parties have become your new lifestyle. Elegant sceneries, fancy clothes and famous people. You absolutely loved the excitement of not knowing what would happen at some of those events. And to make matters even better, your date was your handsome boyfriend, Ben. But as much as you enjoyed those majestic occasions, sometimes a girl just needed a little more fun. For example, like going to your local bar with your boyfriend and letting loose. There were no paparazzi, dress codes or perfect manners. You could just be silly and laugh as loud as you wanted to. Ben needed this night out as much as you did. He was always so busy with meetings, rehearsals and interviews. So tonight would be amusing.

“Ben, no!” you say, slurring your words. “Don’t do that!”

He raises his eyebrows playfully and wiggles them. He brings the drink closer to his plump lips as you raise a brow, warning him not to. You can’t fight back a giggle as he stares at you while licking the rim a bit with his tongue, teasing you. You shake your head at him.

“Ben,” you warn. “Don’t.”

But before for you knew it, he leans his head back slightly and begins chugging the beer as fast as he could. You gasp as you laugh loudly at the scene in front of you.

“Ben!” you yell.

He finishes the drink half way and pulls it away from his mouth. He has a mouth full of beer as he tries not to laugh. He finally manages to swallow it as he looks up to you. Tiny droplets are running down his chin as he smiles a wide, toothy grin at you.

“Almost did it!” he exclaims, proud of himself.

You shake your head and take a step towards him, bring your hand up as you slowly wipe the fallen drink onto your finger. Ben watches you as you bring your finger to your mouth and suck it off. He opens his eyes wide a bit at your actions, your eyes batting at him seductively.

“Hence the word almost.” you tease.

Ben breaks away from his minor shock as he smiles and leans in to kiss you, allowing you to taste the alcohol he had just gulped. You giggle against his lips as he leans away and stumbles back a bit, catching himself by grabbing the edge of the bar. You reach out and grab his shirt, trying to steady him. He pauses and looks to you as the both of you burst out laughing. You two were beyond wasted. You take a step towards him and suddenly trip forward, leaning against him as he caught you. You once more burst out laughing. You could feel eyes on you, but you didn’t care. You were having fun with your lifetime best friend and couldn’t be any more happier.

“My feet stopped working.” you mumble, looking down at them.

“No,” Ben says, hiccuping. “Your brain did.”

You look up to him and laugh as you swat at his arm. His face was flushed, making his green eyes pop. You look down at his mouth and bring your finger up to his chin and gently swipe them across the stubble that was starting to grow. He leans his head down and tenderly kisses your hand. You blush at the sweet, intimate moment between the the two of you. It was as if nobody else was in the room. You smile and lean in to kiss him, his hand lingering on your lower back. You pull away as he raises his hand to your face and holds your chin.

“I don’t know if you know this,” he lightly mumbles. “But I’m too far gone.”

You hold back a laugh as you bite your lip.

“The glossy red eyes might’ve given that one away.” you tease. “Or maybe the way you can’t pronounce any of your words correctly.”

Ben narrows his eyes at you, knowing that you’re sassing him. He cups your face and leans down to kiss you once more, lingering his mouth over yours as your lips brush together.

“We should go.” he whispers.

You quickly nod in agreement and the two of you spin around and head for the front door. You slide your arm around his as you stumble outside and laugh. The cold, brisk air hits your face as you shiver. Ben looks around and raises his hand, making a cab pull up and stop. He opens the door and allows you to slide in first. Ben forgets your address for a moment, which makes you hunch over in laughter.

“Oh, shush!” he snorts.

The car ride goes by fast as your home comes into view. Ben pays the driver and hops out of the car, stumbling a bit. You grab his hand as you step out. The two of you can’t stop giggling as you attempt to walk to your front door. Ben brings the key to the lock, but struggles with it.

“Just put it in the slot.” you say.

“What do you think I’m doing!”

“Ben, you’re missing the keyhole!”

“Well then there shouldn’t be two of ‘em!”

“There’s not two of them!”

Ben finally gets the door opened and the two of you rush inside. He slams the door closed as you slip your heels off. Ben walks up to you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You smile and lean your head back slightly.

“Is it time for bed yet?” he asks, his hands sliding down your hips.

You smirk and press yourself against him. 

“I think it is.” you whisper.

***

The sun was bright and peeking through your curtains. A beam snuck through and landed on your eyes, stirring you from your sleep. You open your eyes and quickly squeeze them shut. A slight headache makes you groan and roll over to face Ben. Your movements cause him to yawn awake as a groan falls from him as well. You watch as he rubs his face with his hands and blink a few times, adjusting to the bright light. Ben exhales as he turns to look at you. You smile to him and at the sleepy look on his face. He looked so sweet and soft and you couldn’t help but reach your arm out and run it through his messy hair. He smiles back and suddenly reaches his hand up and grabs his head.

“Fuck…” he groans.

You scoot closer and kiss his cheek.

“Hungover?” you ask, obviously knowing the answer.

He looks back over to you with a sad frown on his face as he nods his head yes.

“You?” he whispers.

You slowly nod and mimic his sad frown, causing him to laugh. You sit up and pause, your head slightly spinning. Ben watches you and reaches a hand out.

“You okay?” he asks, worried.

You look back to him and smile. You slide from the bed as he watches confused. You walk over to your dresser and grab your camera that sits on top. You turn it on and look back to him. He raises a brow and watches as you stride over to him. You crawl back on the bed by him and straddle. He lays back down and watches as you crawl up him and stop, straddling his hips.

“Whatcha doing?” he asks.

You raise the camera and smirk.

“I need a picture.” you say.

Ben half laughs surprised and shakes his head as he covers his face.

“A picture!? Why? I look horrible!” he whined.

“You do not! You look adorably hungover and I need to capture this for forever. Now smile.”

Ben frowns as you lift the camera up and hover your finger over the button. You lean it down and frown.

“That’s not smiling.” you groan.

“I’m not smiling.” he says. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”

You roll your eyes and exhale as you raise the camera back up.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t frown, grumps. Say cheese!”

Ben chuckles and turns his head slightly, closing one eye and furrowing his brows a bit. He stretches his arm out, exposing his tattoo to you. You watch him through the lense and your heart swells up at how breathtaking he looks in this moment. You quickly snap the photo and smile as you lower the camera. Ben watches you as you pull up the photo and admire it. He runs his hands up and down your thighs as you look back down at him. You lean forward and kiss him quickly.

“Alright, done.” you whisper.

You go to un-straddle him, but Ben quickly sits up and lays you on your back as he hovers over you. You squeal as he grabs the camera from you and turns it back on. He slides a hand up your bare torso, sliding your shirt all the way up. You watch him and bite your lip as he lifts the camera up to look at you.

“We’re not done yet.” he says, smirking.

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[katezivkovic-blog1]

Myrtaceae Winery and a Guide to Becoming a Wine Snob

Less than an hour's drive from Melbourne, Mornington Peninsula is located on the Victorian south-east coast, hosting 200 small-scale vineyards on its rolling hills partnered with sea views, you have more than 50 cellar doors at your doorstep. The regions vines are nurtured by an oceanic climate that features mild summers and mild winters, allowing for their elegant, award-winning, cool climate Pinot Noir and Chardonnay to truly prosper!

Perched up on the highest peak of the Peninsula's hinterland, a stone through from the picturesque Arthur's Seat, sits Myrtaceae Winery. The ultimate cool climate spot, harvests this single vineyard's chic, well-balanced Pinot Noir and Chardonnay that is of such high quality, a canal and a grand châteaux in the backdrop, and you'd have to pinch yourself that you weren't in Burgundy.

Do you love wine? Do you like wine? Do you want to get to know wine..? I personally love wine, but I can assure you, I am no wine connoisseur

Do you love wine? Do you like wine? Do you want to get to know wine..? I personally love wine, but I can assure you, I am no wine connoisseur, so sit back relax and let me introduce you to the Mornington Peninsula wine region, the beautiful Myrtaceae winery, and perhaps even teach you a thing or two about wine, so the next time you're out enjoying a glass you might even enjoy it a little more.

A recreational hinterland of natural beauty, beaches, bays and world-class golf courses…

Mornington peninsula boasts an array of world-renowned fine wines, complemented by a recreational hinterland of natural beauty, beaches, bays and world-class golf courses. The regions wine production dates back to 1886, however the true potential of the region perhaps wasn’t truly discovered until 1972. It was then when new life truly began for a handful of hopeful vignerons. The potential of the maritime setting was seen and proclamation began to grow inspiring cool climate varieties. The idyllic wineries sit in a spectacular forest-like landscape encircled by Port Phillip Bay, Bass Strait and Western Port Bay, allowing for this 'hidden' Australian wine region gem.

I got the chance to sit down with an inspiring modest winemaker, Julie Trueman co-owner (with husband John Trueman) of the scenic Myrtaceae Winery, as we chat all things wine!

Additionally, I will endeavor to prepare you for your next wine tasting, perhaps on the Mornington Pennisula, if you're not already on your way by the time you're through with this article! Included is my tell all tips and tricks and conceivable lies 'Guide to Become a Wine Snob'.

The amalgamation of a little theatre combined with wine, complements for a perfect wine tasting experience!

The beautiful Myrtaceae winery, from the moment you drive down the stone driveway you are overwhelmed by bliss, walking through the cellar doors just adds to the charm with the warm welcome you get from John and Julie ready to take you through the best of Myrtaceae, with their wine tasting. The amalgamation of a little theatre combined with wine, complements for a perfect wine tasting experience!

The specific tasting glasses let you involve yourself and even let you take a step back to enjoy a less intimidating wine tasting experience, the glasses allow the wine to perfectly coat the glass to influence the aromas on the nose, with no 'swirling'!

I can ensure you, nothing but the finest quality and treatment for this cool climate vino!

Myrateceae's team is made up of the charming John and Julie Trueman, although, you might see a furry friend exploring the glorious gardens, or tinkering in the car park, ready to greet the next visitor, the little Jack Russell named Sarlee. This is the full staffing list, until of course March/April rolls round and its harvest time! John and Julie adopt extra hands to help them pick the grapes, since Myrtaceae's wines are all produced with hand picked grapes. I can ensure you, nothing but the finest quality and treatment for this cool climate vino!

There is a strong sense of community; everyone looks out for each other, which is so endearing!

Subsequently, because of the petit size of Myrtaceae's single vineyard winery, all wine is bottled off site at Port Phillip Estate. The same goes with the netting, John and Julie get extra help onboard to help put up the netting to keep those pesky birds off the grapes. Getting the opportunity to sit and get to know a winemaker in this wine haven, you quickly discover that there is a strong sense of community; everyone looks out for each other, which is so endearing!

Main Ridge Estate, located around the bend from Myrtaceae Winery is a winery that Julie absolutely admires. Ash an obvious friend and winemaking companion to Julie, is an incredible winemaker (Straight from the horses mouth, Julie's words not mine), is someone that Julie really looks up to in admiration and will always go to for advice, and more specifically winemaking advice!

Myrataceae's maritime charm is responsible for producing their quality Pinot Noir, which currently includes their 2013 Pinot Noir which has a brilliant clear, crimson colour, 2015 Pinot Noir which has a fragrant red fruit bouquet with savoury hints, and their 2016 which was a warmer year that provided an intense wine in contrast to the subtleties of the 2015 Pinot.

Myrtaceae's stylish Chardonnays have plenty of depth and length. The 2015 Chardonnay has a gleaming green, gold colour with a lime citrus and stone fruit nose, and the 2016 Chardonnay is bright and fresh, with French oak, grapefruit and peach flavours producing blended layers of complexity.

Newly added to their product range is Myrtaceae's Selwyns Fault Rose. The Rose is a lively, fresh and dry style with soft summer fruits.

Myrtaceae’s full product range can be found here.

Please note (for the wine 'Dummies'): This might be obvious to some and others perhaps not.. When we talk wine and tasting notes, the flavours that are pronounced or discussed, are not actually an additive, what I mean is, there is no actual grapefruit, chocolate, pepper etc. added to the wine!

An indulgent platter consisting of creamy Brie, blue and sharp goat's cheeses and you will be dining in grape food heaven!

If you're like me, always thinking about wine and FOOD, then with Myrtaceae's standout chardonnays, pair them with all things seafood, lobster (if money isn’t an option), prawns or some smoked salmon! For Myrtaceae's elegant Pinot's, aim for something richer and deep in flavour, a smoked salmon pasta, gamey meats like duck, or a beef bourguignon! Don't be afraid to spice it up too, a pinot from Myrtaceae that is a more tannic style will pair well, and of course the cheese! An indulgent platter consisting of creamy Brie, baguette and sharp goat's cheeses and you will be dining in grape food heaven!

Sitting in Myrtaceae's magnificent gardens, sipping wine and chatting to Julie…

How do you pronounce the name of the winery and what was the inspiration behind the name?

Laughs** Mer-Tay-See, it is a botanical family name, in that family of plants are a lot of Australian major trees, eucalyptus, melaleuca, callistemon, lilly pillys, tea trees are all in the Myrtaceae family. The name myrtaceae kept coming up, particularly with the plants that were already on the property.

When did you open the doors to the winery?

We bought the property in 1984, and didn't open until 2004. The house was unfinished and there were a lot of blackberries and mess. In 1985 we planted the bottom vineyard and unfortunately the wrong variety of Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, and Merlot, and it's too cool up here for those grapes to ripen. Within 1998 we put in the top vineyard, which was Chardonnay right from the start. Then in 1999 and 2000 we got a contractor in to grub the old vines out to replace them with Pinot.

What does the cool climate do to wines that other warmer regions do not?

It affects the ripening time and acid structure, helping to balance out the acidity. The cooler climate helps with growing different varieties of grapes.

What has been your best vintage?

Hmmm… 2010, I might need to check with John on that. 2015 was pretty good also, and the 2017's are coming up really well, they have just been bottled so they're not settled or ready for drinking yet. Although, we did get a really, really good score for the 2017 Chardonnay when we put it into one of Melbourne wine writers, which we were really chuffed about!

We ask John later on and he said 2007 or 2015*

Do you grow any grapes offsite?

No, that's sort of our thing, that we are a single vineyard winery, so we grow and make the wines ourselves, the only thing we don't do is bottling. We do our bottling at Port Phillip Estate, they've got a huge commercial bottling line there and they are really professional and really well done, and they double check all the testing you've done.

What is an equivalent wine region internationally?

Uh well I'd like to think Burgundy **laughs, although we might be putting tags on ourselves! There's a measure called the number of degree-days, which is the amount of warmth or sunshine and hours, and our degree-days here are different even to the Yarra Valley. Burgundy is very similar, but doesn't have the maritime influence, as it is quite inland. However, the Chardonnay and the Pinot grapes are the main two good grapes in both areas, so that's a big indication.

Which winery on the peninsula do you consider to be your main inspiration? (I asked 'competition' originally and Julie was too inoffensive to answer so we rephrased the question to 'inspiration')

Inspiration would be Main Ridge Estate, Eldridge Estate and Paradigm Hill, which is in Merricks, and then perhaps 10 minutes by Tractor.

What would you tell people that are starting to get interested in understanding what goes into their glass?

Just drink it, don’t make it! Laughs**. It depends on how interested people are, if people come in and want to know more about how things work in here, and I'm not flat out, we'll go through how the red wines are made, how the white wines are made and the difference with the Rose. It really depends on interest!

When tasting wines, what should people look for?

It would be, colour, nose, and then palate. Although that's a very big question, because you could give a one-sentence answer like that or you could write books! Each variety has their own characteristics.

What does it mean when reviewers say;

Has Tannins? It can be wood tannin or skin tannin, your tannis are particularly in the skin but can be in the wood also, and it's generally more a mouth-feel thing. Full-bodied? This is hard to explain also, but can be the feel and length the wine is on your palate. Generally a full-bodied wine is something that is big and bold and doesn’t have the nuances.

What are some things that you've heard or seen as advice when it comes to tasting that you think are completely wrong?

Laugh** anything contrary to all of the above. People's perception of wine is that you swirl, because they're oxidising it. Oh, what I really find really disappointing is people that open an old bottle of wine and then let it sit, and I think you are just missing out on all that experience of 'boom' when its first opened.

Does glassware make a difference?

It does! A lot of science has gone into our tasting glasses. The shape of the top of the glass is to bring it to the right spot on your nose, and they do work, they really do work, its just incredible. Then also a lot of the different shapes of your wineglasses also can bring it to different parts of your palate, Riedel are the masters of that.

GUIDE TO BECOME: A WINE SNOB

Please note: Champagne is different to sparkling wine, if you are out at a nice restaurant, avoid ordering a glass of 'champagne' if you are really just after a sparkling, because when its time for the bill, you will be in for a rude awakening!! Champagne is a wine region in France, and is an extremely complex blended wine of certain grapes found in this region.

Also, this might be obvious to some and others perhaps not, please know the pronunciation of wine is not how is appears. Lets go through the trickier ones

Riesling - Ree-Zling

Pinot Grigio - Pee-No Gree-Joe

Pinot Gris - Pee-No Gree

Sauvignon Blanc - Soh-Vin-Yohn Blahngk

Chardonnay - Shard-A-Nay

Rose - Rose-Ay

Pinot Noir - Pee-No Nwahr

Cabernet Sauvignon - Kabin-Nay Soh-Vin-Yohn

Merlot - Mehr-Loh

Shiraz - Sher-Razz

Yes it might seem silly, but glassware DOES make a difference! You wouldn't drink rum and coke out of a champagne flute, so why drink chardonnay out of a Sauvignon Blanc glass..?

First off, why do wine glasses have that ginormous stem? Simply because our body temperature will warm the wine, hence the reason wine glasses are meant to be held by the stem not the bowl!

Riesling and Sauvignon Blanc are best served in glasses with a smaller bowl, for two reason, it helps to keep the wine cooler and it helps to amplify the wines floral aromas.

A Chardonnay requires more room to breath, and actually shouldn’t be drunk too cold (between 10-12 degrees). With the wines bigger body, it calls for a bigger glass, enhancing the creamier textures of the wine.

Now for your reds, this is where the 'sniff' comes into play. You need to be able to fit your schnoz in, allowing you to smell the aromas of the wine. The larger bowls allow more air to filter through the wine, opening and softening the flavours and tannins.

Wine Selectors, your guide to wine glasses.

Colour might seem obvious; white is white (yellow gold) and red is red (burgundy in colour), wrong! There are around 11 shades of red! Colour is also something that changes over the course of the wine's life! Have you ever seen an aged Chardonnay!?

Here we have a descriptive colour guide for White, Rose and Red:

What do you see:

The wines appearance: You might often see people (the wine snobs) tilting their glass to a white background. This simply allows you to look for a wines:

Clarity (Bright, Clear, Hazy),

Depth (Opaque, Dark, Medium), and 

Liveliness (Vivid, Dull, Flat).

Body & Consistency: Other tactical descriptions include body (Thin, Full, Robust) and consistency (Hard, Rich, Soft).

What do you smell:

Understandably, these things you smell, you can also taste.

Wine description groups:

What do you taste:

When tasting wine, we look for things that don't only include flavour. The two main things are length, this is the amount of time you can taste the wine once swallowed, and finish, this is the mouth-feel left in the mouth once swallowed.

Length: Short, Medium, Long, Generous, Hollow, Solid

Finish: Dry, Clean, Fresh, Crisp, Persistent, Lingering

Another tactical descriptive technique for tasting is tannins, the textual element that makes wine taste dry, astringency (more predominate in younger red wines) is the drying, rough and mouth puckering sensation, and lastly, bitterness.

Tannins: Smooth, Balanced, Big

Astringency: Drying, Aggressive, Long

Bitterness: Acrid, Coarse, Firm

Top tip: Smell and taste are very much connected: Smell and drink your wine at the same time, to do this simply breath in through your nose as you sip the wine.

Scoring your next wine:

Now that you are a wine expert, here is your very own The Wine Snob Score Card to have some fun with.

Always ask how long a wine should and can be cellared for 

The wine needs to be kept in a climate that doesn't go above 15 degrees Celsius, and a consistent humidity of 75% James Halliday

Limit sunlight and airflow – under the house is always a great spot! 

Fact: If you are cellaring corked wine, store the wine on its side or angled forward, this ensures the cork stays moist, preventing the cork from drying out and coursing it to oxidise.

Decant v not to decant: Basically decanting is purifying/aerating the wine before you drink it. When tasting wine, some believe you should taste the wine from when it is first opened (no decanting). With this method, it allows you to taste the difference as the wine opens up naturally. Others believe decanting the wine is best. Once the air has worked it's way through the wine, it opens up more and allows better length and depth.

The next time you feel like a getaway, or a day trip, an hour's drive from Melbourne and there it is, Myrtaceae Winery, the perfect little wine haven gem. Seamlessly suitable to the first timers in the wine tasting world, or the 'know it all's' in the wine tasting world. Their elegant wines are truly something you must experience, and at an exceptional price, you won't be disappointed, truthfully. Undoubtedly, John and Julie know what they're doing and will be waiting to greet you warmly to show you what they're all about, beautiful wine! 

Overall, wine tasting is not for everyone, granted, however, it can be a little fun. Like I have already stated I love wine, but I am no wine connoisseur... and with that, after giving you all of my wine tasting knowledge that I do behold, sometimes all I can really tell is, is it a nice glass of wine or not… So now that you qualify as a 'wine snob', go out and see what you can see, smell or taste in your next glass! 

 A must see Myrtaceae

[garratymcvries]

Buckley stole something every time he was at the supermarket. It was always something very small, as to not raise a huge fuss should he be caught. He never had been. Today though, as he stood frozen in the bulk food section and stared into space, the thought of the culmination of all the shitty things in his life unbelievably weaving together this week convinced him that he was going to walk out of this place with that motherfucking barrel of sour gummy worms. He lifted his head at the thought and looked around with instant guilt, as if he had already put the giant receptacle in his cargo pants. The sharp feeling of guilt was soon overridden by an adrenaline shot of excitement. A grin beat its way through the corners of his mouth, as he found himself the only patron in the bulk foods section of the Baltimore SuperSave on this lonely, overcast Tuesday afternoon.

He strode slowly amongst the giant barrels filled with raw almonds and multiple varieties of trail mix, and whistled softly. A spring in his step that hadn’t been there a moment before evolved into a nonchalant skip as he passed a mound of yogurt-covered peanuts big enough to bury a large dog or prepubescent human, should they run out of yogurt-covered peanuts in the wild, and die of starvation. His target was a few feet in front of him now as he jubilantly bobbed down the aisle. He could see the strips of neon reflecting off of the hinged plastic door atop the barrel that sealed their freshness. The sight of it produced an involuntary chuckle, and a funny sound he couldn’t remember ever making before. That, of course, almost led to an outburst of laughter. He turned around, stifling a display of joy he hadn’t performed in years to a respectable display of quiet snorts and a few tears quickly wiped away. A couple of deep breaths later, he looked up, and surveyed the room. Buckley noticed how many of the barrels had their plastic lids left open, and pictured the fucking savages scavenging their pilfer, then moving on, leaving other victims of life’s unfreshness in the wake of their selfish and careless destinies. The further thought of giant locusts descending upon all of the chocolate-covered mini-pretzels momentarily killed the vibe he had going. He quickly spun around, and the sight of his colorful bounty sparked awake a feeling of terrible excitement.

“This must be what bank robbers feel like right before,” he thought. He approached the barrel right beside the sour gummy worms, and appeared to only have an interest in the unpopped popcorn kernels within, as a criminal mastermind assuredly would so do.  Wait a minute. How was he going to do this? Was he going to just roll the giant cask right out the front door? The back? He’d be caught by someone of some authority before he even reached the sanitary napkin aisle. It was a place he’d experienced embarrassment before in another life. His serious girlfriend of a decade before would conveniently forget to purchase such things, whisking Buckley away during busy public hours to retrieve them for her, only to learn after the relationship had danced its death rattle, that she took regular masochistic pleasure by taking him from his comfort zone, and throwing him into bonfires of embarrassment. Wouldn’t it be such a fitting ending for him to be apprehended for grand theft children’s candy amongst rows and rows of tampons and maxi-pads he no longer had any use for? He pictured the witch reading the headline and throwing back her beautiful curly black hair, cackling wildly with her wicked new family.

No. He needed a plan. He decided to stop being the bulk-food-creeper, and continued with his daily shopping in the guise of a man simply shopping. Simply shopping and not creating numerous devious schemes. But why not devise? It was no crime, just thinking thoughts. No acts yet were committed. He turned into the soda and water aisle, and saw an elderly woman leaned up against a cart with an indifferent look on her face as she stared at the endless varieties of sparkling water. What underhanded thoughts swarmed under that rose colored bandanna and white hair? What crimes was she guilty of in this life? Maybe she was a master thief too. Maybe she’d murdered. Killed multiply maybe, Buckley thought as he put three 2-liters of generic diet cola into his cart. Maybe she’d been one of those insane mothers that rolled her station wagon full of 3 loved, yet unwanted children into the lake. Maybe she’d done such a thing, and spent the bulk of her life in prison, only to be released 40 years later because of overcrowding and good behavior. And now here she was, facing another decision amongst a body of water. Maybe this decision was easier. Maybe not.

She struggled as she attempted to put a case of lemon-flavored sparkling water into her cart, and Buckley rushed over to assist. They managed to seat the water into the cart, when the old woman thanked him quickly and without a smile. She seemed annoyed that she had been assisted by such a petty thief and disgraced tampon buyer of old, and the look she gave him as she moved on as briskly as she could shook Buckley to his core. Those murderous eyes. Was that the look she gave her children as they pounded on the rear window of a sinking car? Oh yes, he thought. It was surely the look she gave other inmates as she shivved them to death in the yard. Buckley tried to shake off the guilt of his act of kindness as he walked back to the comfort of his shopping cart. He closed his eyes and imagined the tart and fruity taste of sour gummy worms as he threw up handfuls of them in his bathtub, and was once again on to the task at hand. His quest was a crime, yes, but an innocent one. He couldn’t allow himself to be caught up with the real villains and cutthroats his criminal actions would assuredly attract. Buckley made a mental note to be wary to avoid such dangerous child killers and shivvers in the future, and made his way to the dairy section.

Oh, cottage cheese. I love you ever so, Buckley thought as he parked his cart in front of the brightly lit white containers. He scorned for a second at the columns of sour cream. How dare they share similar receptacles to wonderful wonderful cottage cheese. IMPOSTERS! BLAND YET TART DECIEVERS! Nasty assed sour cream should be in the nacho aisle. Then, Buckley had a thought of glorious cottage cheese atop a giant mound of cheesy nachos, and made a mental note to try such a thing in the future. A sour gummy worm future, hopefully. Buckley shoved aside a few containers of sour cream as to not sully his cottage cheese shopping experience. He finally decided on a tub of 2% small curd, and one of fat free large curd. Later, he would make two tubs of half and half, and smiled at the prospect of the naked chore. Maybe he’d drop a naughty dollop down below. His giggle continued until he turned into the dreaded soup aisle. It was a place Buckley hated so. How many unfortunate soup instances has he had in his lifetime. Too many to count. There was the Cleveland Bisque Episode. Then there was the Future to Fictional In-Laws Cream of Broccoli Disaster that ultimately was the catalyst of his breakup with Whatshername Succubus Tampon Pressurer.

Buckley had to always buy 3 cans of soup. All he needed during the week was two, but there had to be a safe extra; just in case. The emergency soups had been stored in the only cupboard in his house that required a lock. He’d unlock the door, and carefully place the worry-free can with hundreds of its brothers and sisters. A precious cache of safe, non-disaster soup. Thankfully, he hadn’t needed to dip into his reserves that often, but recently the Great Tomato Boilover was traumatic enough to almost break the lock when he frantically couldn’t find his key. Thankfully he did, yet he had still not cleaned up the mess of that disaster. It looked like a tiny murder had occurred on Buckley’s stovetop. He would one day, but he kept it as penance to himself that he shouldn’t live so recklessly.

At this thought, he thought about his new life as a master thief, and thought twice about a life of crime. He had never been one to life dangerously. Was a barrel of sour gummy worms worth a life of incarceration? He then thought of prison. How would it change him? Would he be what they called, “a bitch”? Perhaps. He had a long documented history of “bitchery” that sullied his past. Then Buckley looked up at the dreaded soup aisle. This sight usually brought forth a most undiluted tincture of fear from his bitchery depths. Dreaded soup, so hateful and deviously delicious. But now, on this red-letter day of masterminding the perfect crime, Buckley felt no fear. No, he would not be “The Bitch”. He would be revered. A kingpin amongst murderers and rapists and child abductors. Buckley then had a vision of himself playing Uno in the common area. Convicted yes-men were bringing him things, such as drinks and chips. Two large henchmen towered behind him, arms akimbo. A rival inmate from another cell block entered the room, and Buckley simply had to motion his head towards the villain, and the yes-men swarmed him, creating a cartoon-like pile of limbs and dust and blood. Buckley smiled in the center of the soup aisle, eyes closed, dreaming of The Kingpin of Crime with a tattoo of sour gummy worms on his neck.

“Pardon me,” a rickety voice interrupted the daydream. It was The Child Killer. She had snuck up behind Buckley. She even was so brazen as to touch his shoulder as she did so. All he could reply with was a tiny gasp, and he dragged himself and his cart flush against a wall of soup. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, as fear began trickling into the cracks of his dam of self-confidence. Buckley quickly grabbed the first three cans of soup he could find, and whipped his cart away from this terrible place. The Witch. The Vile Haggard Woman probably lived in the stupid soup aisle. Of course, he thought. That’s where the child-killers of the world were the strongest, in the goddamned soup aisles of the world. Buckley pushed his cart all of the way to the end of the large room and tried to catch his breath amongst the frozen foods. It was nice and cool here. He looked up at towers boxes with amazing pictures of different varieties of pizza on them, and started to feel normal again. He looked down into his cart, and saw three cans of split pea, the worst, most terrible soup of them all. Buckley dropped to his knees and started to cry.  

“Sir, are you okay?”

Buckley opened his tearful eyes and kept sobbing. His eyes burned and tears fell into the opened hands on his lap.

“Sir?”

Another hand dropped onto his shoulder, and Buckley fell to his backside in fear.

“Oh my goodness! Sir, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have startled you! Are you okay?” The woman wearing a SuperSave apron had kind eyes. Buckley was immediately embarrassed, yet still instinctively cowered against the frozen pizzas like a wounded raccoon.

“Sir, should I call someone?” the concerned employee asked. “What?” Buckley soon realized his current position, and how he must have looked to the SuperSave Angel that held her hand out before him. “Oh, dear me,” he responded. He attempted to rise, but his hand slipped upon the condensation of the freezer door, and fell with a thump once again to his backside. “Oh no! Here, let me help you,” the Angel said. He couldn’t help but notice her touch was kind, yet firm enough to help Buckley get to his feet. He dusted himself off and rubbed the wet from his face. “Here,” she said. She magically produced a tissue from her apron pocket and offered it to him. It may as well had been a slice of bread offered to a starving leper, and Buckley took the offering as such. He cradled it in his hand, and blew his nose into the soft aloe-plied treasure. He attempted to offer it back, and she rightfully shied away. He realized what he had done, and another wave of embarrassment washed over him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He put the tissue into his pocket and hung his head in shame. “Thank you very much.” “Are you alright?” “Oh, yes. I am now. It’s just been a very…trying time today. Actually more than just today, but it seemed to hit me all at once. That sounds stupid.” “Oh, no no. That doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds…” She searched for the right word. A moment of brief silence, and Buckley looked up into hazel eyes that seemed to search for something deep within what was assuredly an extensive lexicon of unsurmountable genius. “…normal.” She finished. She cocked her head to the side, and Buckley sighed relief. “I’ve never been accused of THAT before,” he replied. It seemed the right thing to say, as she responded with a genuine chuckle that made Buckley weak in the knees. His eyes threatened to well up again at the sound of a seraph’s glee, and turned away towards his cart before he became a blubbering mess again.

“Wait,” her voice stopping every bit of him dead. She knew. About everything. About the sour gummy worms. About his past with women’s sanitary applicators. About the security of a closet filled with emergency soup. Oh no! The split pea! She saw the 3 cans of split pea, and knew him for the wretch that he wa-

“Here,” she said. She handed him a small thick book of coupons. “Some of these you can’t use all at once, but it really adds up in the long run, y’know?” Buckley looked at the small flip-book in his hand and managed a small “thank you”. He stared at the heavenly savings too good for him, and she touched the side of his arm. “Well…I’m glad to help. Just let me know I can do anything else to help you with your SuperSave experience.” She started to walk away. Buckley put his hand to the place on his arm where she touched him, and now it was his turn to say-

“Wait.” She stopped and turned towards him with a smile. “Do you-“ he started. He stood for a bit and thought. This is what he needed! An ally! A collaborator in his quest, on the inside! He had to be careful, though. She already assuredly saw him as an emotional maniacal sex-fiend. He would win her confidence-

“Do I what?” she asked hesitantly. “I do apologize,” Buckley started, “My mind seems to wander off sometimes and drags me along.” She chuckled again. It was the best sound Buckley thinks he’d ever heard. He glanced at her nametag. “Amy. It seems to me, at this moment, in your act of kindness, that I should treat myself more kindly that I have been doing so in recent times. I think I deserve a treat. I have a question about an item in this store that you might be able to help me with.” “Shoot!” She replied with genuine glee. “Would you accompany me to the bulk food section?” “Sure!” Glee once again.

“Know where glee leads, yeah?” A whisper within Buckley asked. “Oh, you shut up now,” he responded. “Pardon?”

Buckley quickly dismissed what the girl had overheard, and picked up the pace a step. She seemed to say something, but alas, he did not hear. OH NO! Would such a Venus de Milo grant him a boon of repeating herself to one such as low as he? He must dare. HE MUS-

“I’m sorry, what was that you were saying?” Buckley had done an about-face to give her his full and undivided attention, still keeping up his pace in a backwards jaunt. “ “LOOK OUT!”

OH NO! HE’D ANGERED HER! WHY WAS SHE YELLING? HE WAS SURE SHE WASN’T YELLING JUST A MOMEN-

---

Darkness

It was comfortably brisk on the water that day. There was a slight breeze that nibbled crisply on exposed flesh. Buckley closed his eyes and breathed in the cool fresh air. He opened his eyes and looked at the shoreline. His pace was slow, but steady, as he drifted down river.  He must have dozed for a bit, because now he was facing stern-side. That was good, he thought. He needed to conserve his strength, as it was a long journey to…

to…

Oh, it didn’t matter where. Not right now. Right now the journey was the thing. He looked down to see himself waist deep in sour gummy worms. He grabbed onto the sides of the barrel that floated downstream and could hardly contain his excitement. MY BOOTY! HOW COULD I FORGET IT?! Buckley put his hands into the sweet fluff and brought handfuls up to rub them lovingly on his face. He could practically taste the tart sweetness from the artificial fruity sugar aroma as the worms stuck to his face for a moment before peeling off and dropping back into the barrel. One particularly orange and green one stuck to his forehead, and Buckley wore it proudly.

Okay, back to work. Buckley rocked back and forth and around and managed to get himself facing bow. All he could see ahead of him was more river. Things were good. Clear skies overhead and beyond. His pace was good. “Moving right along,” he said to himself. He looked down at his soft neon treasure and let the excitement take hold of him for a moment. “Moving right the fuck along!” He threw a red and purple worm into the air, and caught the red side in his mouth. He let the rest dangle out as he savored the wonderful strawberry sourness for a moment. Then he slurped in the purple and let the grape sail him all the way to Jubilation.

He slammed his right hand into the worms and rummaged around until he felt something paperish. He got a nice grip onto it, and ripped it from the gummy unknown. His map was an extremely well detailed straight blue line that led to a giant red X. He figured he was about ¾ to the X now. How he figured that, he couldn’t be sure, but for some reason he felt quite sure. He slammed the map back down into the worms, and rummaged even deeper for something else. Buckley instinctually stuck out his tongue as he searched frantically for… for……..THERE! He jerked his hands from the pile with a motion that sent quite a few sour worms overboard. He dusted sugar from his pirate hat and smiled at the skull and crossworms on its front. He dipped the hat into the worms at the front of his waist and slammed it onto his head. The heaviness of the hat was empowering. Sour gummy worms hung from its brim, and Buckley’s line of sight above the horizon was a stringy neon rainbow.

“Yarr!”

Wait. Something was missing. Oh yes! Buckley shoved his hands even deeper into the foam candy deep, and came up with an eye-patch. He filled that as well, and put it on his left eye, worms protruding out from its edges. Now, he was complete. He drifted along, Buckbeard the Worm, in his grand frigate to his ultimate destiny.

“Garrrr!”

After quite a bit of garbled mouthful pirate calls later, something familiar about his surroundings put him on full alert. He quickly chewed on the candy in his mouth, dropping wet pieces back into the barrel. Something there in the distance. Something big, and grey. Buckley rummaged around in the wormily depths once more and came up with a giant telescopic spyglass. He polished the sugar from both ends of it with his sleeve, and extended the spyglass as far as it would go. He leaned his elbows on the rim of the barrel, and took a look.

The grey was concrete. A giant open expanse of concrete, with a railing on its edge. A group of people stood behind the railing and pointed at things.

“An observation deck,” Buckley said without thinking. He lowered the spyglass, and the colors of the people’s clothing made them look like sour gummy worms in the distance. He picked up two worms from his waist, and wiggled them in front of his view, as if they were the people on the giant concrete deck.

“OOH! Looky there!” he mimicked with a pretend people-worm. “Oh yes, I see! That’s a good observation!” the other gummy-person said. “We’re good observers!” “Oh yes, the best! We’re the best observers on the observation deck!” Buckley mushed the two together and made kissy, then fart noises and popped the two good observers into his mouth.

“YUM YUM YUM!” A few moments passed, and Buckley looked again into the viewer. He was closer this time and could make out the deck in more detail. Something super familiar about all of this (and an incredible sugar high) raised the hairs on the back of his neck. A sudden crisp breeze put his gooseflesh on high alert, as a feeling of absolute dread followed.

“Oh no,” he muttered. There was a couple on the deck arguing. He waited a few moments to catch his breath, and to get a better look at the couple, but he knew deep down in his large bucket of foamy candy happiness that there was no treasure to be found at a giant red X scrawled on a crumpled map somewhere near his knees. He looked into the glass again, and found the couple. The woman was attractive, and angry. He always kind of liked when she was angry. She was so sexy when she was angry, and he had come to terms early in their relationship that he would set forth the anger sometimes to please himself, despite the consequences. This time, though, was different. It was the worst argument they ever had. Buckley remembered now.

“Niagra fucking falls,” Buckley said with ire. Now he wished his vessel had a full arsenal of cannons and greek fire to take down the deck and be done with it forever, but all he had was his spyglass, and his worms. He shoved a handful of them into his mouth, and looked again. There she was, emptying both barrels into him, and him standing there with his hands in his pockets, shamed like a beaten dog. Buckley remembered he had simply mentioned his annoyance at her picking the honeymoon capitol of the universe as a vacation destination, after his two already failed attempts at proposal. He saw her mouth “As if I’d marry a piece of shit loser like you,” and heard the voice in his head.

But now, it was different. It wasn’t quite her voice, was it? That distinct shrill Cry of the Succubus that he would remember even after he was waist deep in real worms was not the voice he heard. He squinted into the spyglass as if it would help him focus, and it indeed showed him that the woman he was arguing with in the distance was not the masochistic queen of the forced tampon purchase twice-removed pseudo-fiancée sexy angry b-word that would haunt him for eternity. It was someone else. Someone nice. Someone he hadn’t heard talk to him in a way that would have him contemplate jumping off a bridge as he stood in his pajama pants and trenchcoat at an ungodly hour waiting to pay for tampons and a bag of dill-flavored potato chips. This woman yelling and pointing at him wore a green SuperSave apron. Buckley squinted even harder. The nametag on the apron read “Angel”, quotation marks and all. He lowered the spyglass.

“You’re no angel,” he said, “you’re all the same.” Buckley threw the spyglass with all his might at the observation deck, and it splashed ahead of him, far from the intended target. The sound of rushing water filled his senses now. The falls. Of course. OF COURSE! This was his Giant Red X! This was the treasure that he so desperately sought. It would be different now! The falls would change everything! He gathered speed as he gained closer to the edge, and saw the vast wilderness that sprawled beyond the swirling mist. He grabbed two great handfuls of candy and shoved them into his mouth and yelled “GARRRR!” as the falls took hi-

---

LIGHT

“Garr!” Buckley yelled. His vision slowly refocused as the fluorescent lights poured painfully into the back of his eyes. He was on his back, and a group of people were looking remorsefully down at him, like a thirsty village looking into a dead well. The polite girl that he thought he knew as pure and good knelt by his side, showing what seemed to be genuine concern. Buckley’s vision sharpened a bit more, and saw that her nametag read “BECCA”, and his stomach plummeted down the falls. What an atrocity. He should have known a name as repulsive as “short for Rebecca” would bring forth the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her close friends probably even call her Reba. Gag.

The crowd reeled as Buckley gagged, thinking communally that a geyser of vomit was sure to follow. Reba leaned back as well. Then Buckley sat up. The crowd dispersed a bit, and the few rubberneckers left looked quite bored of the situation. The Devil in Angel’s apron got to her feet, and extended a hand to help Buckley up. He refused this helpful boon, and sprung to his feet with surprising agility.

“Are you alright? That was quite a fall you too-“ “Yes, thank you. I’m just peachy keen fine. Thank you for all of your help.” He started to walk away. “But, wait. Are you sure? Didn’t you need my help with something?” Buckley continued to walk away. “No, thank you, you’ve done quite enough for me already,” his pace gaining like a waterfall’s current. “You’re all the same,” he said defiantly beyond Reba’s earshot, and continued like a man possessed to the bakery.

[writtenatthebarr]

Buckley stole something every time he was at the supermarket. It was always something very small, as to not raise a huge fuss should he be caught. He never had been. Today though, as he stood frozen in the bulk food section and stared into space, the thought of the culmination of all the shitty things in his life unbelievably weaving together this week convinced him that he was going to walk out of this place with that motherfucking barrel of sour gummy worms. He lifted his head at the thought and looked around with instant guilt, as if he had already put the giant receptacle in his cargo pants. The sharp feeling of guilt was soon overridden by an adrenaline shot of excitement. A grin beat its way through the corners of his mouth, as he found himself the only patron in the bulk foods section of the Baltimore SuperSave on this lonely, overcast Tuesday afternoon.

He strode slowly amongst the giant barrels filled with raw almonds and multiple varieties of trail mix, and whistled softly. A spring in his step that hadn’t been there a moment before evolved into a nonchalant skip as he passed a mound of yogurt-covered peanuts big enough to bury a large dog or prepubescent human, should they run out of yogurt-covered peanuts in the wild, and die of starvation. His target was a few feet in front of him now as he jubilantly bobbed down the aisle. He could see the strips of neon reflecting off of the hinged plastic door atop the barrel that sealed their freshness. The sight of it produced an involuntary chuckle, and a funny sound he couldn’t remember ever making before. That, of course, almost led to an outburst of laughter. He turned around, stifling a display of joy he hadn’t performed in years to a respectable display of quiet snorts and a few tears quickly wiped away. A couple of deep breaths later, he looked up, and surveyed the room. Buckley noticed how many of the barrels had their plastic lids left open, and pictured the fucking savages scavenging their pilfer, then moving on, leaving other victims of life’s unfreshness in the wake of their selfish and careless destinies. The further thought of giant locusts descending upon all of the chocolate-covered mini-pretzels momentarily killed the vibe he had going. He quickly spun around, and the sight of his colorful bounty sparked awake a feeling of terrible excitement.

“This must be what bank robbers feel like right before,” he thought. He approached the barrel right beside the sour gummy worms, and appeared to only have an interest in the unpopped popcorn kernels within, as a criminal mastermind assuredly would so do.  Wait a minute. How was he going to do this? Was he going to just roll the giant cask right out the front door? The back? He’d be caught by someone of some authority before he even reached the sanitary napkin aisle. It was a place he’d experienced embarrassment before in another life. His serious girlfriend of a decade before would conveniently forget to purchase such things, whisking Buckley away during busy public hours to retrieve them for her, only to learn after the relationship had danced its death rattle, that she took regular masochistic pleasure by taking him from his comfort zone, and throwing him into bonfires of embarrassment. Wouldn’t it be such a fitting ending for him to be apprehended for grand theft children’s candy amongst rows and rows of tampons and maxi-pads he no longer had any use for? He pictured the witch reading the headline and throwing back her beautiful curly black hair, cackling wildly with her wicked new family.

No. He needed a plan. He decided to stop being the bulk-food-creeper, and continued with his daily shopping in the guise of a man simply shopping. Simply shopping and not creating numerous devious schemes. But why not devise? It was no crime, just thinking thoughts. No acts yet were committed. He turned into the soda and water aisle, and saw an elderly woman leaned up against a cart with an indifferent look on her face as she stared at the endless varieties of sparkling water. What underhanded thoughts swarmed under that rose colored bandanna and white hair? What crimes was she guilty of in this life? Maybe she was a master thief too. Maybe she’d murdered. Killed multiply maybe, Buckley thought as he put three 2-liters of generic diet cola into his cart. Maybe she’d been one of those insane mothers that rolled her station wagon full of 3 loved, yet unwanted children into the lake. Maybe she’d done such a thing, and spent the bulk of her life in prison, only to be released 40 years later because of overcrowding and good behavior. And now here she was, facing another decision amongst a body of water. Maybe this decision was easier. Maybe not.

She struggled as she attempted to put a case of lemon-flavored sparkling water into her cart, and Buckley rushed over to assist. They managed to seat the water into the cart, when the old woman thanked him quickly and without a smile. She seemed annoyed that she had been assisted by such a petty thief and disgraced tampon buyer of old, and the look she gave him as she moved on as briskly as she could shook Buckley to his core. Those murderous eyes. Was that the look she gave her children as they pounded on the rear window of a sinking car? Oh yes, he thought. It was surely the look she gave other inmates as she shivved them to death in the yard. Buckley tried to shake off the guilt of his act of kindness as he walked back to the comfort of his shopping cart. He closed his eyes and imagined the tart and fruity taste of sour gummy worms as he threw up handfuls of them in his bathtub, and was once again on to the task at hand. His quest was a crime, yes, but an innocent one. He couldn’t allow himself to be caught up with the real villains and cutthroats his criminal actions would assuredly attract. Buckley made a mental note to be wary to avoid such dangerous child killers and shivvers in the future, and made his way to the dairy section.

Oh, cottage cheese. I love you ever so, Buckley thought as he parked his cart in front of the brightly lit white containers. He scorned for a second at the columns of sour cream. How dare they share similar receptacles to wonderful wonderful cottage cheese. IMPOSTERS! BLAND YET TART DECIEVERS! Nasty assed sour cream should be in the nacho aisle. Then, Buckley had a thought of glorious cottage cheese atop a giant mound of cheesy nachos, and made a mental note to try such a thing in the future. A sour gummy worm future, hopefully. Buckley shoved aside a few containers of sour cream as to not sully his cottage cheese shopping experience. He finally decided on a tub of 2% small curd, and one of fat free large curd. Later, he would make two tubs of half and half, and smiled at the prospect of the naked chore. Maybe he’d drop a naughty dollop down below. His giggle continued until he turned into the dreaded soup aisle. It was a place Buckley hated so. How many unfortunate soup instances has he had in his lifetime. Too many to count. There was the Cleveland Bisque Episode. Then there was the Future to Fictional In-Laws Cream of Broccoli Disaster that ultimately was the catalyst of his breakup with Whatshername Succubus Tampon Pressurer.

Buckley had to always buy 3 cans of soup. All he needed during the week was two, but there had to be a safe extra; just in case. The emergency soups had been stored in the only cupboard in his house that required a lock. He’d unlock the door, and carefully place the worry-free can with hundreds of its brothers and sisters. A precious cache of safe, non-disaster soup. Thankfully, he hadn’t needed to dip into his reserves that often, but recently the Great Tomato Boilover was traumatic enough to almost break the lock when he frantically couldn’t find his key. Thankfully he did, yet he had still not cleaned up the mess of that disaster. It looked like a tiny murder had occurred on Buckley’s stovetop. He would one day, but he kept it as penance to himself that he shouldn’t live so recklessly.

At this thought, he thought about his new life as a master thief, and thought twice about a life of crime. He had never been one to life dangerously. Was a barrel of sour gummy worms worth a life of incarceration? He then thought of prison. How would it change him? Would he be what they called, “a bitch”? Perhaps. He had a long documented history of “bitchery” that sullied his past. Then Buckley looked up at the dreaded soup aisle. This sight usually brought forth a most undiluted tincture of fear from his bitchery depths. Dreaded soup, so hateful and deviously delicious. But now, on this red-letter day of masterminding the perfect crime, Buckley felt no fear. No, he would not be “The Bitch”. He would be revered. A kingpin amongst murderers and rapists and child abductors. Buckley then had a vision of himself playing Uno in the common area. Convicted yes-men were bringing him things, such as drinks and chips. Two large henchmen towered behind him, arms akimbo. A rival inmate from another cell block entered the room, and Buckley simply had to motion his head towards the villain, and the yes-men swarmed him, creating a cartoon-like pile of limbs and dust and blood. Buckley smiled in the center of the soup aisle, eyes closed, dreaming of The Kingpin of Crime with a tattoo of sour gummy worms on his neck.

“Pardon me,” a rickety voice interrupted the daydream. It was The Child Killer. She had snuck up behind Buckley. She even was so brazen as to touch his shoulder as she did so. All he could reply with was a tiny gasp, and he dragged himself and his cart flush against a wall of soup. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, as fear began trickling into the cracks of his dam of self-confidence. Buckley quickly grabbed the first three cans of soup he could find, and whipped his cart away from this terrible place. The Witch. The Vile Haggard Woman probably lived in the stupid soup aisle. Of course, he thought. That’s where the child-killers of the world were the strongest, in the goddamned soup aisles of the world. Buckley pushed his cart all of the way to the end of the large room and tried to catch his breath amongst the frozen foods. It was nice and cool here. He looked up at towers boxes with amazing pictures of different varieties of pizza on them, and started to feel normal again. He looked down into his cart, and saw three cans of split pea, the worst, most terrible soup of them all. Buckley dropped to his knees and started to cry.  

“Sir, are you okay?”

Buckley opened his tearful eyes and kept sobbing. His eyes burned and tears fell into the opened hands on his lap.

“Sir?”

Another hand dropped onto his shoulder, and Buckley fell to his backside in fear.

“Oh my goodness! Sir, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have startled you! Are you okay?” The woman wearing a SuperSave apron had kind eyes. Buckley was immediately embarrassed, yet still instinctively cowered against the frozen pizzas like a wounded raccoon.

“Sir, should I call someone?” the concerned employee asked. “What?” Buckley soon realized his current position, and how he must have looked to the SuperSave Angel that held her hand out before him. “Oh, dear me,” he responded. He attempted to rise, but his hand slipped upon the condensation of the freezer door, and fell with a thump once again to his backside. “Oh no! Here, let me help you,” the Angel said. He couldn’t help but notice her touch was kind, yet firm enough to help Buckley get to his feet. He dusted himself off and rubbed the wet from his face. “Here,” she said. She magically produced a tissue from her apron pocket and offered it to him. It may as well had been a slice of bread offered to a starving leper, and Buckley took the offering as such. He cradled it in his hand, and blew his nose into the soft aloe-plied treasure. He attempted to offer it back, and she rightfully shied away. He realized what he had done, and another wave of embarrassment washed over him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He put the tissue into his pocket and hung his head in shame. “Thank you very much.” “Are you alright?” “Oh, yes. I am now. It’s just been a very…trying time today. Actually more than just today, but it seemed to hit me all at once. That sounds stupid.” “Oh, no no. That doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds…” She searched for the right word. A moment of brief silence, and Buckley looked up into hazel eyes that seemed to search for something deep within what was assuredly an extensive lexicon of unsurmountable genius. “…normal.” She finished. She cocked her head to the side, and Buckley sighed relief. “I’ve never been accused of THAT before,” he replied. It seemed the right thing to say, as she responded with a genuine chuckle that made Buckley weak in the knees. His eyes threatened to well up again at the sound of a seraph’s glee, and turned away towards his cart before he became a blubbering mess again.

“Wait,” her voice stopping every bit of him dead. She knew. About everything. About the sour gummy worms. About his past with women’s sanitary applicators. About the security of a closet filled with emergency soup. Oh no! The split pea! She saw the 3 cans of split pea, and knew him for the wretch that he wa-

“Here,” she said. She handed him a small thick book of coupons. “Some of these you can’t use all at once, but it really adds up in the long run, y’know?” Buckley looked at the small flip-book in his hand and managed a small “thank you”. He stared at the heavenly savings too good for him, and she touched the side of his arm. “Well…I’m glad to help. Just let me know I can do anything else to help you with your SuperSave experience.” She started to walk away. Buckley put his hand to the place on his arm where she touched him, and now it was his turn to say-

“Wait.” She stopped and turned towards him with a smile. “Do you-“ he started. He stood for a bit and thought. This is what he needed! An ally! A collaborator in his quest, on the inside! He had to be careful, though. She already assuredly saw him as an emotional maniacal sex-fiend. He would win her confidence-

“Do I what?” she asked hesitantly. “I do apologize,” Buckley started, “My mind seems to wander off sometimes and drags me along.” She chuckled again. It was the best sound Buckley thinks he’d ever heard. He glanced at her nametag. “Amy. It seems to me, at this moment, in your act of kindness, that I should treat myself more kindly that I have been doing so in recent times. I think I deserve a treat. I have a question about an item in this store that you might be able to help me with.” “Shoot!” She replied with genuine glee. “Would you accompany me to the bulk food section?” “Sure!” Glee once again.

“Know where glee leads, yeah?” A whisper within Buckley asked. “Oh, you shut up now,” he responded. “Pardon?”

Buckley quickly dismissed what the girl had overheard, and picked up the pace a step. She seemed to say something, but alas, he did not hear. OH NO! Would such a Venus de Milo grant him a boon of repeating herself to one such as low as he? He must dare. HE MUS-

“I’m sorry, what was that you were saying?” Buckley had done an about-face to give her his full and undivided attention, still keeping up his pace in a backwards jaunt. “ “LOOK OUT!”

OH NO! HE’D ANGERED HER! WHY WAS SHE YELLING? HE WAS SURE SHE WASN’T YELLING JUST A MOMEN-

---

Darkness

It was comfortably brisk on the water that day. There was a slight breeze that nibbled crisply on exposed flesh. Buckley closed his eyes and breathed in the cool fresh air. He opened his eyes and looked at the shoreline. His pace was slow, but steady, as he drifted down river.  He must have dozed for a bit, because now he was facing stern-side. That was good, he thought. He needed to conserve his strength, as it was a long journey to…

to…

Oh, it didn’t matter where. Not right now. Right now the journey was the thing. He looked down to see himself waist deep in sour gummy worms. He grabbed onto the sides of the barrel that floated downstream and could hardly contain his excitement. MY BOOTY! HOW COULD I FORGET IT?! Buckley put his hands into the sweet fluff and brought handfuls up to rub them lovingly on his face. He could practically taste the tart sweetness from the artificial fruity sugar aroma as the worms stuck to his face for a moment before peeling off and dropping back into the barrel. One particularly orange and green one stuck to his forehead, and Buckley wore it proudly.

Okay, back to work. Buckley rocked back and forth and around and managed to get himself facing bow. All he could see ahead of him was more river. Things were good. Clear skies overhead and beyond. His pace was good. “Moving right along,” he said to himself. He looked down at his soft neon treasure and let the excitement take hold of him for a moment. “Moving right the fuck along!” He threw a red and purple worm into the air, and caught the red side in his mouth. He let the rest dangle out as he savored the wonderful strawberry sourness for a moment. Then he slurped in the purple and let the grape sail him all the way to Jubilation.

He slammed his right hand into the worms and rummaged around until he felt something paperish. He got a nice grip onto it, and ripped it from the gummy unknown. His map was an extremely well detailed straight blue line that led to a giant red X. He figured he was about ¾ to the X now. How he figured that, he couldn’t be sure, but for some reason he felt quite sure. He slammed the map back down into the worms, and rummaged even deeper for something else. Buckley instinctually stuck out his tongue as he searched frantically for… for……..THERE! He jerked his hands from the pile with a motion that sent quite a few sour worms overboard. He dusted sugar from his pirate hat and smiled at the skull and crossworms on its front. He dipped the hat into the worms at the front of his waist and slammed it onto his head. The heaviness of the hat was empowering. Sour gummy worms hung from its brim, and Buckley’s line of sight above the horizon was a stringy neon rainbow.

“Yarr!”

Wait. Something was missing. Oh yes! Buckley shoved his hands even deeper into the foam candy deep, and came up with an eye-patch. He filled that as well, and put it on his left eye, worms protruding out from its edges. Now, he was complete. He drifted along, Buckbeard the Worm, in his grand frigate to his ultimate destiny.

“Garrrr!”

After quite a bit of garbled mouthful pirate calls later, something familiar about his surroundings put him on full alert. He quickly chewed on the candy in his mouth, dropping wet pieces back into the barrel. Something there in the distance. Something big, and grey. Buckley rummaged around in the wormily depths once more and came up with a giant telescopic spyglass. He polished the sugar from both ends of it with his sleeve, and extended the spyglass as far as it would go. He leaned his elbows on the rim of the barrel, and took a look.

The grey was concrete. A giant open expanse of concrete, with a railing on its edge. A group of people stood behind the railing and pointed at things.

“An observation deck,” Buckley said without thinking. He lowered the spyglass, and the colors of the people’s clothing made them look like sour gummy worms in the distance. He picked up two worms from his waist, and wiggled them in front of his view, as if they were the people on the giant concrete deck.

“OOH! Looky there!” he mimicked with a pretend people-worm. “Oh yes, I see! That’s a good observation!” the other gummy-person said. “We’re good observers!” “Oh yes, the best! We’re the best observers on the observation deck!” Buckley mushed the two together and made kissy, then fart noises and popped the two good observers into his mouth.

“YUM YUM YUM!” A few moments passed, and Buckley looked again into the viewer. He was closer this time and could make out the deck in more detail. Something super familiar about all of this (and an incredible sugar high) raised the hairs on the back of his neck. A sudden crisp breeze put his gooseflesh on high alert, as a feeling of absolute dread followed.

“Oh no,” he muttered. There was a couple on the deck arguing. He waited a few moments to catch his breath, and to get a better look at the couple, but he knew deep down in his large bucket of foamy candy happiness that there was no treasure to be found at a giant red X scrawled on a crumpled map somewhere near his knees. He looked into the glass again, and found the couple. The woman was attractive, and angry. He always kind of liked when she was angry. She was so sexy when she was angry, and he had come to terms early in their relationship that he would set forth the anger sometimes to please himself, despite the consequences. This time, though, was different. It was the worst argument they ever had. Buckley remembered now.

“Niagra fucking falls,” Buckley said with ire. Now he wished his vessel had a full arsenal of cannons and greek fire to take down the deck and be done with it forever, but all he had was his spyglass, and his worms. He shoved a handful of them into his mouth, and looked again. There she was, emptying both barrels into him, and him standing there with his hands in his pockets, shamed like a beaten dog. Buckley remembered he had simply mentioned his annoyance at her picking the honeymoon capitol of the universe as a vacation destination, after his two already failed attempts at proposal. He saw her mouth “As if I’d marry a piece of shit loser like you,” and heard the voice in his head.

But now, it was different. It wasn’t quite her voice, was it? That distinct shrill Cry of the Succubus that he would remember even after he was waist deep in real worms was not the voice he heard. He squinted into the spyglass as if it would help him focus, and it indeed showed him that the woman he was arguing with in the distance was not the masochistic queen of the forced tampon purchase twice-removed pseudo-fiancée sexy angry b-word that would haunt him for eternity. It was someone else. Someone nice. Someone he hadn’t heard talk to him in a way that would have him contemplate jumping off a bridge as he stood in his pajama pants and trenchcoat at an ungodly hour waiting to pay for tampons and a bag of dill-flavored potato chips. This woman yelling and pointing at him wore a green SuperSave apron. Buckley squinted even harder. The nametag on the apron read “Angel”, quotation marks and all. He lowered the spyglass.

“You’re no angel,” he said, “you’re all the same.” Buckley threw the spyglass with all his might at the observation deck, and it splashed ahead of him, far from the intended target. The sound of rushing water filled his senses now. The falls. Of course. OF COURSE! This was his Giant Red X! This was the treasure that he so desperately sought. It would be different now! The falls would change everything! He gathered speed as he gained closer to the edge, and saw the vast wilderness that sprawled beyond the swirling mist. He grabbed two great handfuls of candy and shoved them into his mouth and yelled “GARRRR!” as the falls took hi-

---

Light

“Garr!” Buckley yelled. His vision slowly refocused as the fluorescent lights poured painfully into the back of his eyes. He was on his back, and a group of people were looking remorsefully down at him, like a thirsty village looking into a dead well. The polite girl that he thought he knew as pure and good knelt by his side, showing what seemed to be genuine concern. Buckley’s vision sharpened a bit more, and saw that her nametag read “BECCA”, and his stomach plummeted down the falls. What an atrocity. He should have known a name as repulsive as “short for Rebecca” would bring forth the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her close friends probably even call her Reba. Gag.

The crowd reeled as Buckley gagged, thinking communally that a geyser of vomit was sure to follow. Reba leaned back as well. Then Buckley sat up. The crowd dispersed a bit, and the few rubberneckers left looked quite bored of the situation. The Devil in Angel’s apron got to her feet, and extended a hand to help Buckley up. He refused this helpful boon, and sprung to his feet with surprising agility.

“Are you alright? That was quite a fall you too-“ “Yes, thank you. I’m just peachy keen fine. Thank you for all of your help.” He started to walk away. “But, wait. Are you sure? Didn’t you need my help with something?” Buckley continued to walk away. “No, thank you, you’ve done quite enough for me already,” his pace gaining like a waterfall’s current. “You’re all the same,” he said defiantly beyond Reba’s earshot, and continued like a man possessed to the bakery.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Ready Player One review

People who say “The book is always better than the movie!” tend to be foolish people who view literature as an inherently flawless medium incapable of doing wrong. To say that, you need to ignore literature that is objectively better than the source material to the point even the authors prefer it, such as Fight Club, Jaws, and Who Framed Roger Rabbit, or films that greatly improved the work they’re adapting by trimming the fat, such as V for Vendetta and (oh boy I’m probably gonna get shit for this) The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Today’s film is one such film in the latter category, directed by a man behind one of the films mentioned in the former category, a film no one except me thought would be as good as it is: Ready Player One.

The book is easily one of the most contentious novels I’ve ever seen, a truly “love it or hate it” affair. I liked the novel; I read it when I was going through a really rough time back in 2012 or so, and a lot of its themes resonated with me. It’s a cheesy, charming book that unfortunately has a few really cringey bits of writing in it and unfortunately due to its medium spends a lot of time explaining references you wouldn’t see otherwise. I’d put the book on the same level as Eragon; it’s cheesy and has some dumb writing here and there, but overall it’s enjoyable. But even I realized a film could help trim a lot of the fat of this novel and polish it into something grand, and when I heard Spielberg was at the helm I slept a lot easier, figuring that would be the case.

And it was. This movie is a lot better than the book in most regards. But let’s look at the plot first:

In the year 2045, in a world where things seem bleak and joyless, people turn to the virtual reality world of the OASIS, where they can be anyone or anything they want. Its creator, a man named Halliday, created a contest for all the people of the OASIS to take part in after he died, in which the goal was to find the ultimate Easter Egg. Whoever found the three keys and then the Easter Egg would become rich, powerful, and most importantly they would own the OASIS. Wade Watts, known in the OASIS as Parzival, is an average guy who eventually stumbles across the answer of how to get the first key. But he’s not the only person gunning after the prize; the corporation IOI and its douchey head honcho Nolan Sorrento are after total control so they can spam ads and basically make the place a microtransaction nightmare. Can Wade, with the help of his best pal Aech, his love interest Art3mis, and his buddies Daito and Sho manage to stop IOI or is this end of line for the users?

WARNING: THERE’S GONNA BE SPOILERS BELOW.

So I’m gonna go over some of the things I didn’t like in the adaptation first, which honestly mostly amount to nitpicks. The diminished importance of Rush is a bit sad, though it’s kind of understandable since all of the challenges were streamlined and simplified for the movie. That doesn’t suck as much to me as the complete cutting of the Ladyhawke segment, as this book is what introduced me to that movie and I was hoping to see some reference to it. Changing up Aech the way they did kind of diminishes the impact of her reveal, and speaking of which, a lot of characters and backstory are glossed over or ignored, most egregiously Ogden Morrow. The book went into a bit more detail into Morrow, co-creator of the OASIS, and Halliday’s relationship, but in the film Morrow is seemingly shunted aside for much of the film. I don’t think any of this really ruins the film per se, but it certainly makes it a different beast from the book.

Now, time to sing the praises of this film: the visuals are stunning. The OASIS is a major focus of the movie, as it should be, and we get to see so many creative visuals and ideas take place, as well as insane amounts of crossover characters. You’d need to freeze frame every single crowd shot to catch them all; just watching it as I did I saw Duke Nukem, Jason Voorhees, the Battletoads, Hello Kitty, Harley Quinn, the Joker, Batman, and more among the crowds. It’s a lot like Wreck-It Ralph in that regard. Frankly, I kind of wish the entire film was just in the OASIS, because all of it is just so fascinating and fun and visually appealing… special props need to go to the extended trip into The Shining, which was recreated with eerie accuracy up until the parts where things go off the rails. I think this movie may be Spielberg’s greatest achievement visually speaking.

The parts of the film that take place in the real world aren’t nearly as good, but I don’t think they were necessarily bad either. They definitely had their good moments, and they certainly helped progress the plot forward as well as being important to the film’s overall message of “Don’t ignore reality in favor of escapism, because reality is where what’s most important really is.” And a good message that is, especially in today’s day and age. Still, some of the acting in the real world can be wonky, mostly whenever Wade is having romantic moments with Samantha AKA Art3mis. They do get better as the film progresses, but their romance arc in this movie is easily a weak point with how rushed and awkward it is. Guess Ernest Cline’s co-writing credit is really shining through there.

Our main characters themselves are all fairly well done, in OASIS and outside of it, though again, Wade and Samantha’s relationship in reality is a bit awkwardly written, and it’s not much better in the OASIS though there’s some more cool visuals to help you stomach things, but overall those two are enjoyable protagonists. Aech is still as cool as ever, though I am a bit disappointed they changed her character so much it made the impact of learning she’s a black lesbian (the latter fact is there but glossed over) a lot less impactful, as instead of her avatar being a white dude, it’s a hulking cyborg ogre. Still, I can’t deny Aech is still as cool as ever. Daito and Sho are also cool and have their roles expanded a bit from the book. Better yet, Daito does not get killed, so no awkward seppuku references that will make you cringe!

The villains are pretty cool too. First up is the OASIS insider I-R0k, played by T.J. Miller in his first act of penance for The Emoji Movie. It’s so fucking funny seeing this hulking, menacing death lord with skulls and shit all over him talk in the most nerdy voice imaginable. Still, he manages to shockingly be a menacing and capable threat, unlike his lame book counterpart. Then w e have the new villainess, F’Nale Zandor, a new character created for the film who serves as big bad Nolan Sorrento’s right-hand woman, acting out his evil schemes in the real world. She’s pretty cool and badass, and plays her role well enough; she’s sort of like a low-tier Bond henchman. Then we have Nolan himself, and while he is a stereotypical 80s corporate villain – a fact that even he lampshades – it’s hard not to appreciate a villain whose online avatar looks like Senator Armstrong and who calls forth Mechagodzilla as his ride in the final battle.

Speaking of the final battle, it is absolutely epic, but there has been a bit of contention due to the inclusion of the Iron Giant, and how it somehow goes against the non-violent themes of his titular movie. Well, you can rest easy in knowing that it’s just a giant mecha being piloted by Aech, and mostly what it’s doing is protecting everyone else from Mechagodzilla. The Iron Giant vs. Mechagodzilla is the greatest matchup I never knew I wanted.

Spielberg managed to do exactly what I expected him to do: he distilled everything that was good about the book, filtered out what didn’t work, and made a fun movie out of it. I can’t really justify totally calling this a style over substance film like I could with Batman v Superman or Miss Peregrine’s, because there actually is enough substance here to be serviceable and it has a very good message about the dangers of escapism and how allowing corporations to take away the neutrality of things is bad, but it’s definitely a movie you’re gonna wanna see for all the visuals more than anything. It’s a lot like Doctor Strange in that regard.

This is a great movie. Yes, great. If you love some really fucking cool visuals and can handle tons of cheese, this is the film for you. Honestly, it’s weird, but I’d really recommend this to everyone who disliked the book; you may find in a lot of ways that this is the book done RIGHT. As for people who love the book, this may be very much a love or hate affair; me, I loved it. I honestly can’t wait to watch it again and see what other secrets and cameos I pick up on, and just to bask in the glorious visuals of the OASIS. Leave it to Spielberg to polish something like Ernest Cline’s writing and produce a diamond, or at least a gemstone of significant value. It’s not a perfect film at all, but it IS a fun, enjoyable, and exciting one… kinda like a lot of the 80s films that inspired it.

[asiachild37]

Fitzgerald's Fine Catering

With the advancement of technology, avenues have been opened left and proper to permit people to do more things than they have ever imagined. For the past decade the World Wide Web has developed into one of the innovative ways to make life easier for everyone and open countless opportunities for extra individuals. The web is a superb place to meet new people, make new associates and join with old ones as nicely. That is why we see many websites which might be put up particularly to make speaking and interacting a lot easier. One way of keeping in touch is done by way of chatting on the net. Several applications have been particularly made to suite such wants of people browsing the web. We provide flavors from around the globe in addition to dishes you’ve grown to like from our restaurants. Our group can come to you at any area, or you can host your occasion in certainly one of our venues. We know it’s not just your wedding day that’s stuffed with love…and details! It’s an enormous weekend and it’s going to be full of fantastic memories, however planning for the whole weekend can feel overwhelming. We can craft a collection of distinctive menus that complement one another, with the seamless convenience of working with a single vendor throughout the method. Our secret is not any secret...we simply love nice food. Decorating could be such exhausting work, particularly should you're hanging lights or other large components. Doing it together will make it so much extra exciting, and you will make so many, usually hilarious, recollections. Evita Kunke Used Catering of Paris twice and LOVED them both times! Consider the following interesting company breakfast ideas to change things up and please every palate. As far as corporate catering ideas go, you can’t go mistaken with classic grilled cheese and tomato soup. Spinach and artichokes add an adult spin to this comforting dish, which includes tomato bisque shooters for dipping. 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You will want a number of vehicles if eating a meal is doubtless certainly one of the central draws of the event, such as a lunchtime employee appreciation picnic. And you'll need to guide several trucks if everyone is going to eat at once, similar to throughout a marriage reception. Niagara Caterers wish to thank you for stopping by to check out our superb and professional catering providers. We are one of many top catering full service occasions company providing our exceptional expertise within the St. Catharines, Niagara Falls, Niagara on the Lake Catering events, and Welland areas of Southern Ontario. The Treadwell Catering Company follows the “farm to table” idea of the restaurant and can bring freshness and creativity to your wedding or particular event. Meals & Beverage Carriers Electric Cambro Hot Box with heated door at high compartment solely, no heat at bottom compartment, standard insulation only, excellent to maintain each cold and hot objects in a single cart. Perfect for frequent opening and shutting, extreme cold ambient temperatures and longer events. Extends hot food holding time and ensures food safety - an economical alternative to large warming cupboards. Also try our restaurant meals storage, ice transport buckets and cell ice bins, and banquet carts and heated banquet cabinets for all your food storage needs. Take your catering operation to the next level with the reliable insulation and business defining longevity of the Ultra Pan Carrier from Cambro! This UPC300 is rotomolded for one-piece, seamless building, ensuring unmatched sturdiness in transport and storage. With a compact footprint, this service easily fits in most smaller vehicles. Our thick CFC-free insulation safely holds meals for 4+ hours, hot or cold, defending meals safety and freshness. No cords or chargers are needed – just place hot or chilly meals and go! However, this does not mean that investing on portable cooking equipment is a foul idea. Portable Cooking Equipment could also be used for dishes that have to be freshly cooked onsite of the occasion. Also, since it's transportable, transporting it from place to place in realiableplastic containers, relying on the venue of your occasion will be so much simpler too. Wegmans Food Markets I appreciated that you identified that doing a pasta bar could possibly be a very cheap method to cater for lots of people. That is great for me to know as a end result of I am going to try to help my sister discover a good caterer for her marriage ceremony. I save and re-use plastic baby meals containers . For instance, a modern venue with crisp clear lines can affect your show as this one did. Salt Lake’s Gallivan Center was the inspiration for this glossy white design. If you could have an outdoor or rustic-themed event, this idea may help you add peak to a buffet table shortly and with stuff you doubtless already have available. 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Artistic Meals Catering Pick between Avocado Cream, Sour cream, New Mexico, or Sweet Habanero. Served with Cilantro rice, beans, chips and salsa. In truth, even many “reduced sodium” soups are nonetheless loaded with salt. This Health Valley soup, however, has no salt added, and it lives up to that with solely a hundred and fifty milligrams of salt per can. This makes it American Heart Association licensed, so that you could be assured it’s a sensible choice if you’re on a heart-healthy food plan. Please order a Gluten Free roll and sides if Gluten Sensitive. Your selection of crispy or Southwest seasoned, baked shrimp, contemporary pico de gallo and chipotle sauce in heat flour tortillas. Served with steamed brown rice, guacamole, sour cream and a fresh lime. All served with honey mustard sauce and one aspect. This soup will be on my ‘MAKE OFTEN' listing any longer. This mushroom soup recipe labored up quickly, and tasted nice. I followed the recipe exactly however solely used 2 T. Of flour and butter to thicken, since I knew the shitakes would produce much less moisture than different varieties of mushrooms. For sherry I bought a medium dry amontillado, which lent the soup a delicious delicate finish. I do want the onions had melted into the soup higher. Maybe I'll saute them first subsequent time, as some reviewers have instructed. Chicken, trecce dell'orto pasta, mushrooms, purple peppers and purple onions tossed in a savory cream sauce. Each soup should replicate its own id. Certain soups are thick and creamy and they could be just pureed or thickened with flour and milk, for example, cream soups. Certain shellfish soups are thickened with rice and pureed similar to bisques and so forth. Restaurant Chairs & Stools Shop for quality restaurant furniture at Mission Restaurant Supply, and give your customers the memorable dining experience they deserve. 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Avoid wobbly tables, tilting tables, banged up knees and ankles with these sturdy, well-constructed bases that attach firmly to your desk tops. Providing Meals Suggestions No food screams fun and bonding more than barbecue. With a fantastic choice of grilled and smoked meats, appetizers, greens, bread, and more, your company get together might be a certain hit with the staff. Scratch kitchen catering companies focus on recipes made with fresh elements, which means better-tasting meals. Every foodie is conscious of food made with contemporary ingredients has superior taste and appeal. Imagine the distinction between canned tomatoes and freshly sliced tomatoes. Processing food tremendously compromises its flavor. They’re sudden but nonetheless acceptable for this time of year. The holidays deliver up a lot of childhood reminiscences this time of yr, so make sure to serve nostalgic beverages like kids cereal themed cocktails or boozy hot candies. Really any baked good combined with pumpkin and spices might be affordable and delicious but when you want inspiration attempt any of these seventy five low-cost pumpkin recipes. To maximize that experience here are a number of superior out of doors catering ideas. An artisanal drink is something that's unique to the event, and the trick is to use interesting and ideally native elements. Artisanal drinks are a perfect way to showcase a little bit of what makes your occasion destination special from a culinary perspective. An various to native ingredients is native expertise. The recipe itself is simple sufficient, only a simple Goat Cheese unfold with a piece or two of Walnut on Garlic Toast. A few hints to make it special, but really incredibly straightforward. Not only the speckles of poppy Seed but additionally the gentle lemon yellow shade. Lemon sugar is the key to these muffins, turning a simple muffin into a star of Pow Zap Zing additional flavor. Whats The Most Popular Sort Of Catering For Wedding Receptions? It typically requires more manpower for serving and plating, so staffing fees are usually greater. Guests are served the same entrée with a silent vegetarian or vegan alternative. Just click on “Requires Code” to limit access to visitor with the non-public event code. Any late-night bites or takeaway gifts you’d like to give your guests. By clicking 'Sign Up', you consent to allow Social Tables to retailer and process the non-public information submitted above to offer you the content material requested. With this service style, your guests might help themselves to a full meal offered with a choice of proteins, sides and vegetables. We typically see buffets accompanied by a salad show or dessert station to assist break up the service line and permit for more of a move. A buffet features lengthy tables topped with a wide variety of meals options. This meal style presents probably the most selection in your guests, making it significantly fascinating if you would like a variety of cuisines or have picky eaters. The most necessary factor to consider here is the means to get your friends via the food lines as rapidly and effectively as attainable. A plated sit-down dinner could be quite cost-effective because you essentially can control the price. This service type permits your guests to create multiple plates of meals in smaller portions versus one massive plate at a buffet. Our station menu choices offer both heavy and light menu choices, making them considered one of our hottest service kinds. Anything from an empanada show to a traditional beef tenderloin carving station get your visitors up and moving to a chosen place to make a plate. When you start your wedding ceremony planning journey, you might already have an thought of what kind of food you want to have at your reception. You want your reception to be a fantastic celebration, and with an excellent celebration it just appears proper to have nice food. Guests might not be familiar with this style of reception, so inform them forward of time of what to expect when it comes to the meals. Nancy Parragué is the Director of Sales at Paula LeDuc Fine Catering & Events, which has been on the forefront of the wedding scene in northern California for many years. It has constructed its name on gourmet, stunning menus that characteristic hyper-local, hyper-seasonal dishes.

[livironheart]

all of them do all of them

i have perished for my hubris. it’s too late. one day I will have to atone for my crimes as will you. fool? judgment day is coming.

🍕 = What is your muse’s usual pizza order? Do they order any drinks, sides, or desserts to go with it?

Liv likes pepperoni pizza with olives. She would definitely appreciate dessert with it, as well as cheese sticks.🍾 = What is the last thing your muse celebrated? How long was the celebration?

She hasn’t done any WILD celebrations in a while. She participates in holiday events sometimes, though. The last thing she celebrated was probably her engagement.

🎉 = When is your muse’s birthday? Is there a special meaning behind the date for you (the mun)?

June 21st. There’s no special meaning other than I wanted to be cool and symbolic and put her birthday on the summer solstice.

📚 = What is your muse’s favorite genre of books? What are some of their favorite authors and/or books?

Liv loves to read adventure novels, but doesn’t have a lot of them. Mostly, she reads tomes by a variety of authors to study magic. Most of them are written by elite Kirin Tor mages.

💌  = How does your muse choose to confess to the person they’re interested in? Do they usually get rejected or accepted?

Generally, Liv isn’t the one confessing. She’s prone to suffer in silence out of the fear of rejection, but if she starts getting hints that whoever she likes feels the same about her, she’ll probably reach out. She’s also a fucking idiot and will likely run in circles for a little bit even so and be like ‘do they like me? what if they don’t like me?’🍵 = Does your muse prefer coffee, tea, or cocoa? Do they add any sweeteners? Iced or hot?

Olivier hasn’t had a lot of tea so she can’t make a call on that. She loves coffee and cocoa.

💙  = Who does your muse have a deep and loyal love for?

Finnigan Wyman. She would genuinely kill and die for him.

💸  = Has your muse written their will yet? If yes, what have they decided to give to people? If no, why not?

Olivier hasn’t written her will because she doesn’t seem to realize that’s actually a thing that everyone should do. She also doesn’t have a lot to her name. If she wrote one, she would leave everything to Finnigan. Every last bit.

🔮  = Is your muse superstitious? What superstitions do they have? Where did they pick them up from?

In a fantasy world where nearly anything is possible, it’s tough not to be superstitious. She’s been getting worse, though. She’s wondering if she suffers from divine intervention and genuinely thinks that she tempts fate sometimes.

🔒 = What is a secret that your muse will take to the grave? Why have they decided not to tell anyone?

The true name of a certain someone, the depths of her ambition, and the fact that she likes waffles more than pancakes. She will never tell Finn this.

🍭  = Does your muse have a sweet-tooth? What’s their favorite candy?

Liv ABSOLUTELY has a sweet tooth. She has a bit of a sugar addiction. She likes any and all candy unless it’s super hard and crunchy.

🍦 = What is your muse’s favorite ice cream flavor? Do they prefer eating it in a cone, cup/bowl, or straight from the carton? Do they use any toppings?

Plain chocolate in whatever form is most convenient. Sometimes she’ll add whipped cream if it’s available.

💚  = Who or what makes your muse feel envious? Why do they feel that way? Do they act out or keep their envy hidden?

Liv gets envious whenever Finn mentions Caroline, although she tries to convince herself she had no reason to feel that way. She also gets jealous when she hears people talk about their happy families or how great their parents were or the fun childhoods they had growing up. She’s also envious of success stories, as she feels that hers is out of reach.

📘  = Describe an AU verse/story that you have written out for your muse that you’d love to roleplay. Why did you choose to make them that way?

None written. Avatar AU would be kinda cool though.

📕  = Describe a crossover verse/story that you have written out for your muse that you’d love to roleplay. Why did you choose to make them that way?

None written.

🍔  = What is your muse’s usual burger made of? You can pick any bread, meat (or non-meat), cheese, condiments, and toppings. What side and drink do they prefer with it?

Hamburger, half pound, with mushrooms, swiss cheese, ketchup, salt, and sauteed mushrooms. She would definitely love fresh fries and strawberry lemonade with it.

🖍️  = What was your muse’s favorite childhood toy? Do they still have it? What special memories are attached to the toy?

She had a little gryphon that her mother carved from cedar wood. It’s still at Otu’s house in the Hinterlands, so sort of. She doesn’t have any particularly strong memories, just little times she would bring it outside with her and imagine what it would be like to fly.

🎵 = What is your muse’s favorite genre of music? What are some of their favorite artists? How important is music to them?

She would definitely like Indie/acoustic music. Finnigan is her favorite artist. She absolutely loves music and feels it in her heart and soul. She wishes she could hear it more often.

🌶️  = Can your muse handle spicy food? What is the spiciest food that they can handle?

Olivier LOVES spicy food. She says it makes eating a little more exciting. She wouldn’t be able to handle the super crazy stuff like whatever the WoW equivalent of ghost peppers is, but she enjoys jalapenos and hot sauce and stuff like that.

🍰 = Does your muse prefer cake or cupcakes? What’s their favorite cake flavor and icing/frosting flavor?

She loves chocolate cake with whipped frosting from the bottom of her heart. Make it chocolate ice cream cake with fudge and you will win her heart forever.

🍼  = Does your muse have children or do they ever want to have children? Do they think they will/would be a good parent?

She has no children and doesn’t want children because she thinks she would be a bad parent. She remembers how she grew up and is afraid she would accidentally force the same neglect on someone else. Also, she vehemently despises the thought of pregnancy. If she ever got kids, she would adopt, and it would be MANY years from now.

☠️ = How would your muse prefer to die? What do they want done with their body after they die?

Quickly, in the line of battle, doing something cool and glorious in defense of the Alliance or the ones she loves. She would want to be cremated and have her ashes scattered in the Hinterlands.

👻  = Does your muse believe in ghosts? What is your muse’s scariest experience with spirits/the unknown?

She definitely believes in ghosts. Her scariest experience was practically becoming one during the final battle against Krath’ul.

🛀  = Does your muse prefer baths or showers? What’s their favorite body wash scent? What kind of shampoo/conditioner do they use?

She loves both, but probably prefers baths. She likes pine, vanilla, and roses. She would use shampoo/conditioner with any of those scents.

📱 = What type of cell phone does your muse have? What apps do they frequently use? Who do they text or call most often?

Liv doesn’t have a phone because they don’t exist in WoW, but if she did she would absolutely own a Samsung.

⛎  = What is your muse’s zodiac sign? Does it fit their personality?

Cancer; yes.

🔋  = Who or what drains your muse the most? Who or what helps to revitalize that energy?

People. She loves conversation, but extended amounts of time with people (especially the ones that piss her off) can be intensely draining for her emotions. Taking time to herself to sleep or cuddle with her s/o is what generally helps. Also, being out in nature.

💊  = Does your muse have any physical or mental disabilities/illnesses? Do they take medication for it?

She has anxiety and PTSD, and takes no medication.

🗳️  = Is your muse liberal, conservative, or somewhere in-between? What political party do they align themselves with most?

No political parties in WoW, but she would probably lean toward the liberal side.

📺  = What TV shows does your muse like to watch the most? Do they prefer watching them as they air on network or do they stream them later?

No TV in WoW.

🎞️  = What is your muse’s favorite movie genre? What are their top five favorite movies? Do they prefer watching movies at home or in the theater?

Liv has never seen a movie in her entire life and probably never will.

🐾  = What is your muse’s favorite animal? Do they have or do they want any pets?

Olivier loves foxes and gryphons. She has a pet cockatiel that she loves and cherishes.

🌈  = Is your muse LGBT+? What do they identify themselves as?

It’s a little-known fact, but Liv is bisexual. She’s never been in a serious relationship with a woman, though, so the only people that know this are the ones she has shared it with.

⛈️  = What type of weather is your muse’s favorite? What do they usually like to do when they have a day off when it’s their favorite weather?

Olivier loves warm summer nights, when it’s not so hot that things are unbearable. The world is warm but the sun is down. The stars are out, a cool breeze rustles the grass and trees, and nothing feels more perfect. She likes to spend these nights at the fire festival when it’s going on, or simply somewhere out in nature. She also likes thunderstorms when she doesn’t have to be outside in them.

💐  = How would your muse respond to receiving a bouquet from an admirer? What kind of flowers would they prefer in the bouquet?

Liv fucking loves flowers, dude. She loves receiving bouquets and will get incredibly affectionate when she gets one (unless it’s from someone that’s not her s/o).

💔  = When is a time your muse was heart-broken? Was it someone else’s fault or your muse’s? What did they do to get over it?

When she left Rook. It was her fault. She ate some ice cream and moved on. It still bothers her a little bit, but she’s beginning to see him in a different light, so it’s not a huge issue. It was hard for her to so easily discard all the memories they had, though. Another time was when Finnigan died, and she was led to believe he was permanently dead. And the monks of Northshire didn’t allow her to see his body to pay respects.

💤  = What position does your muse sleep in? What side of the bed do they prefer? How many blankets and pillows do they usually use? Do they snore or sleep with stuffed animals?

Olivier sleeps on her back with her hand on her stomach or on her side. When she sleeps with Finn, she definitely prefers to be the little spoon. She sleeps with a lot of pillows and a lot of blankets for maximum comfort. She doesn’t snore or sleep with stuffed animals.

🛑  = What is one of your muse’s pet-peeves? 

Ironically, arrogant people. A lot of people call Liv arrogant, which is sometimes true, but she doesn’t see it. She hates narcissists and people who are rude and unkind to others without reason.

▶️  = Make a playlist of five songs that your muse would enjoy.

King and Lionheart - Of Monsters and Men

Ignite - Zedd

Better Days - Hedley

Reluctant Heroes - AmaLee

I See Fire - Celtic Woman

🔆  = Out of your muse’s group of friends, who do they find the most attractive? Would they ever ask them out?

Aside from Finnigan, she finds Tiara pretty attractive. She would never ask her out because she only sees her as a friend, Tia is married, and Liv is engaged. Still, she appreciates beauty when she sees it.

🏖️  = What would your muse be doing on a day out to the beach? Are they the type to get in the water or just sit on the shore?

She would definitely be in the water splashing around. She would take turns doing that and lying out to laze in the sun, though.

🏥  = Has your muse ever been to the hospital for an injury or illness? How long did they have to stay?

She’s been in the infirmary multiple times for injuries, sometimes for days or weeks at a time. She’s never been out for more than a month, though.

🎠  = What is your muse’s favorite carnival ride, game, and food? What do they like to do first when they go to a carnival?

Funnel cakes are her absolute favorite, but she’ll eat just about any carnival food. She doesn’t ever really play the games or go on rides. She just likes to walk around, dance, listen to the music, watch the people, and spend quality time with her loved ones.

🚨 = Has your muse ever been in trouble with the police? What crime did they commit? Did they have to stay in jail?

Liv got censured because she inflicted cruel and unusual punishment upon someone impeding an investigation by singing his face.

🥇 = Has your muse ever won a contest or competition? What was the contest/competition? What did they receive as a prize, if anything?

No.

🎸 = Can your muse play an instrument? If yes, which one(s)? If no, do they want to learn how to play? Can they write lyrics or sing?

She can play a little bit of guitar, but she’s desperately out of practice. She can sing, but she’s bad at writing lyrics.

🎮  = What is your muse’s favorite genre of video games? What system do they prefer? What are some of their favorite games? Do they like to play online with other people?

Ain’t no video games in WoW. Modern AU Liv is definitely an elitist in Overwatch, though.

🍳 = Does your muse know how to cook? What dish of theirs is the most popular among their friends/family? What would they consider their specialty?

She used to be a terrible cook, but she’s always been a quick learner. As soon as she started to watch other people cook, she was able to pick up their techniques. She tends to stick strictly to recipes, but she’s just starting to experiment with cooking different combinations of things.

👽 = Does your muse believe in aliens? Have they ever seen a UFO? Do they believe they’ve been abducted before, or do they know anyone who claims to have been abducted?

O_O

[kaitlinmcduffie]

A Holy Calling

“Maybe next time you’ll remember my water bottle.”

Children can be quite unintentionally merciless. They see you make a mistake and they call you on it right away. Never mind that you gave up all of your basic needs for the first year of their life or that you stuff your purse with every little thing they might want and leave behind the one thing you actually need. It’s enough to make you want to yell, as I overheard a mother at a park say, “I don’t appreciate being treated this way, especially when I do everything for you!”

So let’s all agree that motherhood is, among other things, an uphill climb of mundane tasks which your primary audience does not appreciate you for. If you’ve ever cleaned cottage cheese off your wood floors because your two year old daughter doesn’t seem to understand “don’t drop your food, it’s not appropriate behavior” or attempted to get several splinters out of the squirming foot of your 4 year old son, then you know what I mean. There is very little of the glamorous or sexy in mothering, no matter what certain Instagram accounts, posts, or filters may convey. And it is nothing like a regular job; when you’re a mom, there are no:

Pay raises for more work done. Paid time off and benefits. Praise for a job well done. Promotions for milestones passed.

Honestly, that can seem discouraging, nay dispiriting. Why be in a job where there is so little in it for you, the person doing all the work? The tasks are endless, the applause nonexistent; there’s never enough hands (or wipes); and the people you spend the most time with really don’t care that you work so hard for them.

And yet.

The moment my firstborn was laid in my arms, I knew that I would literally give up anything to be with him, and I would do anything for him. And I’ve done just that. I have cleaned bottoms, washed hands, wiped noses, brushed hair, and bathed bodies. I have read (and re-read) books, built train tracks, created LEGO villages, raced cars, pretended “house,” and played hide ’n seek. I have chased, tickled, hugged, scolded, and yes, even occasionally, disciplined my children. I have wiped up vomit, kissed boo-boos, washed bedding, and sanitized cribs. And yes, I have also lost my mind, my temper, and the thing that I need the most in a specific moment more times than I can count– I now understand why sainthood is earned because I have certainly not come naturally into saintly behavior as I work, moment by moment, to show my kids the face of Jesus.

Strangely enough, in spite of everything, it’s that last part which keeps me going. My job, above the never-stopping chores and the nonexistent cheering section, is to mirror the character of a holy God. In that way, I think motherhood is a microcosm of the Christian life; indeed, to be a mother is a holy calling. We get saved and we start a journey of becoming more like Jesus. Loving our neighbor, participating in a church community, giving generously to the poor, studying the Scriptures, obeying the commandments, allowing the Holy Spirit to refine our hearts– all of these things which demonstrate that we reflect the image of God.

Every day there are struggles and triumphs; there is nothing perfect about this upward climb, and the rewards seem so far away. Yet we know there are rewards because God has promised them! When we reach the top of the mountain, we’ll look down and back over our lives and see the glorious path of sanctification. So it is with being a mom.

We know we’re doing this hard work and we wonder if we’re getting anywhere, if anyone cares, if we’re going to make it to the end. In the day-to-day, perhaps we can’t or won’t see it. But God sees us; and as He looks at us, He beckons us to look at Him. Not at the big rocks in our path; not at the wind blowing the trees; not at the shadows of wild animals to our left and right; not at the setting sun or the impending storms; not at the sweat stinging our eyes or the insects nibbling at our exposed flesh; not at our aching muscles and tired feet.

“Fix your eyes on Jesus, Author and Perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him embraced the cross, despising the shame.”

I believe when we look at Him, then His face is reflected in ours, and that’s how our children see Who He is. Yes, in the midst of making chocolate milk, measuring household items with a tiny tape measure, and masking a smile with a serious listening face when your kid’s woes are just too much. In those mundane tasks is where our sanctification (and our kids’!) is taking place. And that makes every sacrifice worth it. Our kids may give us a crappy performance review; it’s common knowledge that five year olds only see the forgotten water bottle, not the 10,000 other things you’ve done for them, am I right? But our heavenly Father sees our labors.

And no, my dear mothers, they are not in vain.

[sussex-nature-lover]

Sunday 3rd January 2021

Review of the Year Q3. July, August, September 2020

The weather stayed good and we were very glad to be able to get outdoors and to see so many visitors to the garden, even if some of them were rather naughty.

Question: when are squirrels well behaved?

Answer: let me know when you find out.

2020 was a huge year for Deer in the garden and they hardly seemed bothered by us at all. Sometimes they come alone and sometimes in a group. So called Hooves of Fire wrecked the seed tray and kept churning up the grass. If we can get that sorted this year, just a year behind schedule, we will. Given all the Pheasants and the Deer, it seems a bit of a forlorn hope but we’ll see.

Forlorn. Hah!

17th July saw Captain Tom Moore knighted at Windsor Castle in a socially distanced, outdoor ceremony (scene portrayed by models)

23rd July was my birthday 

As a rule the family would gather and we’d have a nice social time. This year we sat at one side of our front porch and Ms NW tY stopped by after work for a drink and some nibbles. She was seated at the opposite side of the porch like we’d sent her to Coventry.

The origins of this phrase aren't known beyond doubt, although it is quite probable that events in Coventry in the English Civil War in the 1640s are the source.

For those not familiar with the UK, Coventry is an industrial city in Warwickshire, England. It is well-known for its two cathedrals; the modern cathedral being built in 1962 to replace the old cathedral, which was destroyed during an intense German bombing raid in 1940.

In the 17th century, when this phrase is supposed to have originated, Coventry was a small town. It has been suggested that the phrase, which we now use figuratively, originated from people being actually sent there.

The story is that Cromwell sent a group of Royalist soldiers to be imprisoned in Coventry, around 1648. The locals, who were parliamentary supporters, shunned them and refused to consort with them.

Over the year I took a few photos that formed a kind of series. One was Birds on the Line - very popular locations, as shown by these Starlings. I did capture rather a lot of Wood Pigeons and Crows though despite my best efforts to find something a little more exotic.

Male Common Darter at Bateman’s NT

There were plenty of posers around for me including Dragon and Damselflies on a bench at Bateman’s. Seeing the new Cheviots up at the farm was a surprise and below, the young Kestrels were comical, striding up and down the barn roof.

Blue Tit on the Christmas Tree

It’s always quite lovely to see the fledglings thrive and 2020 was a good year for Tits and Robins.

Juvenile Robin

We probably made a lot more use of the garden last Summer, as we couldn’t go anywhere else much and the conditions became quite like being away-away.

I also learnt quite a lot about nature in 2020, it was a combination of having a Guru on Twitter to run all my queries by and doing a lot of internet research. One of my discoveries was about Great Spotted Woodpecker (amongst others) having an extra protective eyelid, which makes perfect sense actually if you think about it. I’d never spotted it before though.

Aliums on a hot day

Like Goldfinch (below) the Common Buzzards were plentiful in the skies above and their call could be heard across the valley multiple times a day. Photographing them was quite another matter. 

The photo above caused a lot of debate with local ornithologists who debated long and hard before settling on a Honey Buzzard

They’re known to frequent the Reservoir over Summer months.

The days were long and peaceful, sunsets almost Mediterranean. I lost track of how many times we were sat out saying it was just like being on holiday, just without the fight to reserve a lounger or the sounds of the sea. Sometimes when the breeze rippled through The Apostles though, if you closed your eyes you could more or less imagine it.

‘The Apostles’ as seen from ‘Goldfinch Alley’

Our garden at sunset looking exotic

One of my favourite birds, the Nuthatch, did really well and there were lots of young, so we had loads of visitors of varying sizes enjoying both the food and the water.

We spent a lot of time looking at the skies, admiring the clouds and learning a bit about the formations. It was so, so clear and a bit of a revelation to us.

Throughout the year the mystery cat kept visiting. Boy or girl? No idea (still) Nicknamed by us Monsieur Flambeau after a character in the Father Brown books, I always greet them with a cryptic ‘We meet again Monsieur Flambeau’ I’ve heard it said that about 80% of ginger cats are male but this one’s so pretty who knows.

In August,on our walks, we were finding lots of Horse Chestnuts hiding conkers and green acorns falling already.

And in August, two lots of new fencing and new gates - all done on Ms NW tE’s birthday, not that she’s seen in yet, but it certainly tidied the boundary and we were very pleased with it.

I haven’t written about all the National Trust visits we went on through the year. They were mostly for the chance to walk in different territory and gardens. If I started to list them we’d be here for ever, but I did get some nice nature pictures for my collection. The ones below were taken at Standen House, East Grinstead.

I’ve put a tab at the top of the Blog with links to all our usual haunts.

Small Copper Butterfly

Small White Butterfly

White Tailed Bumblebees

We were still enjoying the clear skies and glorious sunsets but Mid September brought the harvest across the lane

and all the leaves started to turn

Sheffield Park

Scotney Castle

Late September brought about a change in the weather. The rolling Sussex skies moved in and the garden took on a totally different look.

Photo taken between 3 and 4pm

Below, pond up at the farm - with added sheep

But it wasn’t all gloom. We got sighting of a Spa Day. Remember them?

and everyone wanted IN.

NOTES FROM THE GARDEN AND KITCHEN:

Direct quote from Crow ‘they can’t be far away, as soon as I went out (with the fat balls and seed) they came’ ...Re The Girls

The last couple of days I’ve noticed quite a lot of activity amongst the Wood Pigeons and the Blackbirds in particular. We seem to have a lot more of both in the garden all day long and the males and females are being quite friendly. Watch this space.

Because we didn’t have a turkey this year we’re not one of those households furiously thinking what can be done with seemingly endless left-overs. We did get quite a good selection of cheese though and have enjoyed some rather nice warm croissants filled with cheese and ham, they keep you going most of the day and we’ve had a couple of meals with salmon, which is a nice, light change.

Decoration of the Day:

A lovely sparkly star for the 10th Day of Christmas because I don’t have Ten Lords a-leaping. I don’t have the Pipers piping or the Drummers drumming come to that.

MUSIC OF THE DAY:

Relaxing piano and birdsong by Peder B Helland

[alabastertouch]

Idle

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters: Park Chanyeol x Reader x Oh Sehun

Warning/s: None

Summary: Okay, so you are hopelessly in love with your best friend... Guess it’s not a bad thing that there’s an enormously handsome guy quietly waiting?

A/N: This is to compensate for months of not posting... and because my friend told me to post this (I d k if she’d like it if I tag her tho!) Anyway enjoy some Chanyeol and Sehun time!

And that title was thought of last minute okay

“Yeah!” Chanyeol has called you again, drunk, and basically coerced you into staying with him throughout the party Baekhyun has so conveniently thrown in a school night.

You do love parties… you really do, but when you’re busy studying for your upcoming exams and finishing papers that won’t finish themselves, you don’t appreciate a rowdy distraction.

“Chanyeol, it’s time to go. Jongdae oppa said you have a big presentation tomorrow!” You mutter through your teeth, trying to be reprimanding yet at the same time not wanting to be a killjoy. Chanyeol himself has had a fair share of saving your intoxicated ass in the middle of the night as well, but not when you have responsibilities to take over.

“Come on, Y/N! No worries! Miss Gong is nice~” You don’t appreciate the goofy smile at the end of his sentence, either. You’ve heard enough from Baekhyun about the new teacher… that she looks younger than her actual age and that she has captivated most, if not all, of her students in all genders.

“Miss Go’s hot!” Baekhyun remarks, finishing his vodka tonic off. “I thought you like Chaeyoung, Yeol?” Baekhyun’s tipsy self almost falls, but successfully holds on to you before he can fall. You can feel his smirk, which means that he knows exactly what he is doing and he is doing it to prove something.

Byun Baekhyun is provoking you.

“Ha,” you airily laugh. “Tell me more about this Chaeyoung. Tell me why Chanyeol here likes her so much, that he’s redder than his usual drunken self.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes at your subtle bluffing. He knows how you’ve been liking Chanyeol for such a long time, and like another bystander, he is itching to find out the ending of your love story with Chanyeol.

“She’s Australian,” Junmyeon comments from the side, contributing to the conversation as minimal as possible. When it comes to the matters of the heart, Junmyeon is the last one to be asked. That’s a story for another day, though.

“Oh, I didn’t know Chanyeol is interested in international affairs,” you snap at Junmyeon, who then raises both of his hands in surrender. “Why does it matter if she’s an Aussie?”

The tips of Chanyeol’s ears are now crimson, face buried on one of Baekhyun’s throw pillows. You harshly pull it out, revealing his giggling form. He topples on to your lap, a gushing fit that resembles you whenever he does something unconventional directed to you.

“Ah, Yeol, you must really like this Chaeyoung girl,” you speak, not realizing how monotonous you sounded. Baekhyun chortles in laughter, masking his making fun of your misery. Your eyes successfully shut him up and he turns to his drink in order to avoid your blazing gaze.

“She’s pretty,” Chanyeol neither confirms nor denies the accusation you made, but judging by his compliment (which he rarely ever does, because only his mom and his older sister are pretty to him), she is hella lucky.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you mess his hair, taking out your frustration on the brown locks.

“Y/N! Stop!” He laughs once again, uncontrollable this time. After a few minutes of cackling, even after you have ended making him your outlet, he falls asleep in exhaustion.

You are, undeniably, in love with your best friend, and for whatever it’s worth, you’re willing to make him happy even if it costs you your happiness.

“Hello, my dear,” you can hear the girls’ exasperated sighs behind you as Oh Sehun once again hands you a chilled banana milk.

Cliché, but Oh Sehun is the resident tsundere. He almost resembles Naoki Irie from that Japanese manga… only that Sehun doesn’t have an IQ of 200, but rather has a personality of a six-year-old.

Even if Sehun acts like a cold-hearted male all the time, he is your moronic buddy when you’re downcast. You barely spend time with each other out of class, since he is busy with his freelance job as a model in different companies, and you are teaching English in a tutorial center nearby.

Still, that does not stop Sehun from always accompanying your Chanyeol-moping ass.

“How are you and hyung?” Sehun innocently asks, genuinely unaware of your situation. He was absent last night during Chanyeol’s drinking episode, thus not being updated with the events that occurred.

“How’s your math grade?” You purr at him, and his eyes widen as he turns to you.

“Hey, that’s a foul!” He points at you accusingly, and you just shrug him off. Anyway, you gave him an answer without directly telling him.

“Your question to me was a foul as well!” You sputter as you try to look for a reason not to hurt Sehun’s feelings.

“Whatever,” he sips on his strawberry milk. “Help me with the English exam, please?”

“What do I get in return?” You try to make a negotiation with him.

“The pleasure of my company,” Sehun motions to his body, earning himself a jaunt on the stomach coming from you and your powerful elbow. “Y/N, stop being violent!”

“So, stop making stupid remarks!” You return to your book, ignoring Sehun’s attempts at being cute. You hear the girl from the other table jeer at you as she eats a large chunk of her mac and cheese, which only makes you chortle while drinking.

That night, Sehun heads to your apartment, bringing his notebook, pen, and “glorious self” along.

“What do you mean I is a pronoun?” He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. “I am a pronoun.”

And you give him the equally unabashed look.

“Sehun, listen to me for a while, okay?” You heave out, once again beginning to teach him when the knock on the door interrupts your tutorial.

“I’ll open it,” Sehun volunteers and lifts himself off the floor, complaining his numbing butt and his lack of learning for the night. When he opens the door, he gets silent.

“Sehun? Who is it?”

“Hyung? Why are you here?” Sehun sounds puzzled, and when you see the visitor’s identity, you almost want to push Sehun out of your apartment.

“Sehun? Where’s Y/N?”

“Ah, Chanyeol! What’s up?” You stand up, managing to not trip along the way. Sehun looks at you disapprovingly, which takes you aback. “What?”

“You promised to teach me this language, and you’re not gonna ditch me for hyung!” Sehun mutters, thinking his voice is inaudible to Chanyeol.

“Ah, Sehun! No worries, I’m just here to ask if Y/N can lend me her car,” Chanyeol sheepishly asks. “I’ve a date tonight.”

And you want to crash your car on his perfect stature. Sehun cautiously looks at you, seeing the rise and fall of your chest as you think of a response that will not show you’re hurting.

“Yo, Y/N! Don’t worry, I’ll gas it up!” Chanyeol thinks it’s the issue, but it actually is far from that. You are thinking of ways to tell him to shut up and try to listen, but maybe you really are the girl that guys befriend.

You are friends with the undeniably good-looking ones, yet not one has ever fallen in love with you. Not to mention, your best friend is blind to your own feelings.

“Yeah, sure. You know where to get the keys,” you allow him, and his silly smile brings you down instead of what it usually did to your heart.

“Ah, you’re the best!” He kisses your cheek and heads to your room, leaving you wondering why you are stupidly nice to the guy who’s breaking your heart.

You look at Sehun, seeing his pained expression. You’d expect that he’ll mock your heartbreak, as he is the most mischievous among every one of your friends, but his empathetic smile wavers you.

“I’ll bring it tonight safe and sound!” Chanyeol promises.

“Ah, hyung, just bring it to uni tomorrow,” Sehun speaks. “I’m taking Y/N tomorrow. Just take care of her car.”

And you stare Sehun down. Did he just give Chanyeol permission to stay the entire night with his date?

“Oh, okay,” you aren’t sure if your ears are deceiving you, but it seems to you that Chanyeol is a bit disappointed. “I’ll go off now.”

And when Chanyeol leaves, you and Sehun are still left in that silence.

“Way to go, Sehun,” you huff. “That totally gives him all the privilege to sleep with his date tonight! Not to mention, he might even do it in my car!” You lash out at the poor guy who is only trying to be nice and to ease your hoping heart.

“He won’t!” Even Sehun himself is panicking. You can see.

“Let’s just finish this whole thing, okay?” You sigh as you reopen your binder, showing him the notes you’ve been religiously taking. Sehun watches you carefully, studying your every movement as you explain things to him one by one.

And it bugs you.

“Oh Sehun, you’re not listening!” You reprimand him, but his stare holds you back from yelling at him further. “What?”

“Will you promise not to hate me after doing what I’ve been wanting to do?” He whispers lowly.

“Just as long as it isn’t illegal, then fine.”

And he caresses your face, planting a kiss on your lips softly. He doesn’t move, but pulls away minutes later once he sees the shock written all over you.

“I’ll go now,” Sehun stands up and fixes his stuff, leaving you frozen with your internal battle. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

And with those words, he’s gone.

It only leaves you tossing in your bed all night. Oh Sehun likes me? It’s the question that has been running on your mind all night long. He never showed it, though. You try to recall everything that he has done for you and trace when all of it had begun.

The night you told him about liking Chanyeol? Had he been feeling this way since then?

In haste, you take your phone from the bedside table and press on your messaging thread with Sehun.

You | 2:05 AM You awake?

Sebooty | 2:06 AM Yeah. Why are you still awake?

“The audacity to ask!” You sit up as you begin typing aggressively.

You | 2:07 AM Because of what you did, dumbass!

You | 2:07 AM Since when? Or are you just messing with my head?

Sebooty | 2:08 AM I would never do that to you

Sebooty | 2:08 AM And to answer your question, way before you told me you liked hyung

Now that you have one of your questions answered, you have a lot more that needs immediate response.

You | 2:09 AM You shocked me

“Wow, very witty,” you murmur to yourself after hitting send.

Sebooty | 2:09 AM Well, I shock most people

You | 2:10 AM HAHA, funny. Don’t go kissing other girls okay? Wouldn’t want to shock them

Sebooty | 2:10 AM Why, jealous? ;)

You feel your face getting warm by his remark.

You | 2:12 AM Are you flirting with me?

Sebooty | 2:12 AM It took you two minutes to reply?!

Sebooty | 2:13 AM And yes, I’ve been doing that for the past year. Thanks for noticing.

“Oh, this little shit,” and you find yourself enjoying this… texting Sehun and laughing at his flirtatious words that come every once in a while. It seems like he is feeling the same, because he continues replying just as quick as you are doing.

You | 4:01 AM Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?

Sebooty | 4:01 AM As should you, princess

You smile at the cheesy term of endearment.

You | 4:02 AM We still have four hours before our class, Sehun. Go to sleep.

Sebooty | 4:02 AM Rest now, Y/N. Good morning!

You | 4:03 AM Sweet dreams, Sehun

Finally, you tuck yourself under your blankets, feeling warm with both your body and your heart with the thought of a friend you are now seeing in a brand-new light.

Instead of waking up with your usual alarm tone, a clinking ring tone gets you up and has you grabbing your phone quite violently.

“Hello?” You groggily answer.

“Yo, it’s 7:30,” your eyes widen after hearing the time from the caller. “I was pretty sure you were still asleep.”

“Shit!” You run to the bathroom, phone still held close on your ear. “Look, Seul, I have to hurry up because Sehun is picking me up soon.”

“Sehun? Oh Sehun?” She asks, a little laugh in her tone. “Ooh, what’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing!” You defensively respond. “I’ll text you later, okay? Bye! Love you!” And you hang up and throw your phone on the bed.

After a five-minute shower and throwing a quick makeup look (you choose a reddish lip tint today, surprisingly), you finish with dressing up in a comfortable sweatshirt and black leggings.

The knock on your door stops you from checking yourself out longer in the mirror.

Once you open it, it reveals Sehun wearing his usual clothing, but you had failed to notice how he undeniably looks like he just came out of a Balmain photoshoot.

“Ready to go?” He asks, a little bit shy.

“Yeah, let me just put on some shoes.”

You ride on the shotgun seat of his car right after.

You spend the way to school in comfortable silence, singing to the songs playing on the radio and stealing glances at Sehun once in a while.

“Stop looking at me all weird,” Sehun speaks, not taking his eyes off the road. “That’s the last thing I wanted to happen.”

“Well, that’s the consequence of kissing me,” you roll your eyes at me.

“Look, you don’t have to feel obligated to spend time with me if you feel too awkward, Y/N. I understand that you like someone else and I’ll give you your time if you want it. But after that, I’m hoping we’ll still be as close as we were.” Sehun explains, pleading you in a way. You find his sincerity endearing, and you find yourself hiding a smile.

“Sehun, no. I’m not going to stay away from you,” you clear up, surprising him. Once he has parked, he looks at you in surprise.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay? We have class,” You climb down his car. “Let’s go.”

As you enter the classroom, Mrs. Go has not luckily arrived yet, but unfortunately, Seulgi is there, wiggling her eyebrows at the scene of you and Sehun entering at the same time.

“What’s with the eyebrows, Kang?” Sehun sasses.

“What’s with you and my bestie arriving together, Oh?” Seulgi spats back with a teasing tone.

“Just me being a nice guy,” Sehun shrugs.

“You? Nice?” Seulgi snorts as she looks at him. “You’ve finally found your balls, huh?”

“Yah!” Sehun exclaims. “Stop!”

“What? It’s about time you quit bitching about seeing Y/N and Chanyeol oppa together,” Seulgi cackles and leans closer to you. “Did you know he threw a sissy fit when he found out you picked Chanyeol oppa up from that party? He was complaining to me and Jongin about it!”

“What’s the problem with me picking him up? He was drunk!” You ask Sehun, who ignores your question by looking out of the window.

“Because he’s jelly,” Seulgi winks. “And there’s nothing wrong with Sehun, right? Apart from the fact that he whines a lot, he’s an okay guy.”

“He’s a great guy,” you impulsively say, pursing your lips afterward.

“Aha!” Seulgi points. “I’m totally shipping!”

“Shut up, Seulgi, or I’ll tell Jongin that you’ve been liking him since you were fifteen!” Sehun blackmails the orange-haired girl.

“You wouldn’t!” Seulgi gasps.

“I will if you don’t stop bugging me and Y/N!”

After three hours of Mrs. Go explaining complicated Calculus equations and Seulgi’s unexpected silence, lunch time has arrived.

Since Seulgi has something to look for in the library, you and Sehun are the first ones to grab your lunch. You head to the cafeteria together, where you see Chanyeol with Jongdae and Baekhyun, poking fun at Kyungsoo’s newly shaved head for the school’s play.

“Hey, guys,” Sehun greets first. You wave at them, to which they reply with a chorus of hellos.

“Hey, here’s your key,” Chanyeol throws, and you successfully catch them in your hands. “No scratch at all. It’s safe and sound.”

“Wow, what a miracle,” you sarcastically smile. “I’m getting food. Let’s go, Sehun!”

Once you return to the table with your trays, Jongdae starts bombarding you with questions.

“Are you finally going out?” Jongdae gushes, and Sehun is all ready to deny it before you speak up.

“Not yet,” you take a sip from your bottle of water. “He hasn’t asked me out properly yet.”

Sehun almost chokes on his ramen, and Chanyeol looks at you with wide questioning eyes.

“Yah, I thought I taught you better!” Baekhyun hits Sehun’s head. “Ask girls properly and with respect!”

“Wha—You said we’ll talk about it later!” Sehun sputters.

“Later is now!” You reason out. “Let’s talk about it now!”

“With them?” He motions to the four older guys around you.

“Hey, we’re your hyungs!” Kyungsoo scolds him.

“Yeah, hyungs who’ve been making fun of me for not confessing!” Sehun cries out.

“Are you going to ask me out or am I going to be the one to do it?” You ask him, seemingly bored. He stands up all of a sudden, taking you aback.

“Let’s get out of here.” Sehun takes your hand and leads you outside of the cafeteria. Once you are in a secluded area, he faces you with an unsure look.

“Are you messing with me?” He asks you with a raised brow.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” You return his words with a smile.

“Movies at 8?” He slyly proposes.

“I’d love that,” and you climb on his tall figure and kiss his cheek, leaving him a giggling mess in the school garden.

Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo watch Chanyeol as he eats his tonkatsu silently, which is quite a contrast from how he was before you and Sehun came and left.

“You okay, man?” Baekhyun queries, earning an absentminded gaze from Chanyeol. He finally snaps out of it and realizes that he is being questioned.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Chanyeol tries to convince his friends.

“Chaeyoung’s right, huh?” Kyungsoo says. “About Y/N?”

Chanyeol’s date last night went awry after Chaeyoung made it clear to him how he really felt, because she had noticed that all Chanyeol had talked about was you.

But now, he knows that it’s just a thing that will never happen, because as he watches yours and Sehun’s intertwined hands upon returning, he knows he has missed an amazing opportunity.

“She’s right.” Chanyeol coughs.

He’s too late.