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#but also like the cooking gets Even More screen time in the grandma cut
mmikmmik · 2 months
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if Kamen Rider Kabuto was narrated by grandma, it would have given equal screen time to Kabuto and to the simultaneously occurring magical girl adventure Juka was participating in offscreen
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hongcherry · 1 year
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Hi! I'm doing good, thank you for asking and for answering my question :D. I REALLY love your writing and I want to request a roommate!JungKook x roommate!reader enemies to lovers fic, when it's raining a lot, so the power goes out and the reader is scared of the dark, please. I hope you're having a good day/night, don't forget to take care of yourself ♡
Your Light || jjk
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"Being stuck in the dark with your annoying roommate was not ideal, however, maybe it wasn't so bad in the end."
💡 Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)
💡 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Fluff, roommate au, enemies to lovers
💡 Warnings: Cursing, mc hates children (joking...), bantering, mentions of stereotypes of older people/grandmas, that's it?
💡 Word Count: 2.3k
💡 Author’s Note: Anon, I'm so touched that you like my writing so much! That's such a big and sweet compliment. I'll cherish it forever! Tbh, I've been feeling a lil insecure about it, so this really made me feel better. This prompt was also really adorable! I hope you enjoy it. I'm glad you're doing good 💖
part two
bts masterlist | main masterlist
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What’s more annoying than telling your roommate to stop yelling at his screen at three in the morning?
Having to tell him for the fourth time.
If you knew Jungkook was an avid video gamer, you would never have agreed to room with him. But alas, his profile was too perfect to be true. A quiet guy who stayed holed up in his room? One that knew how to cook? Someone that could lift your heavy move-in boxes? Truly a winner.
If only that was the whole case.
Jungkook indeed stayed in his room, could cook, and could lift heavy items.
But he also made loud noises in the middle of the night, cooked at the weirdest times so you couldn’t leech off his food, and made you pay him anytime he helped you move items.
What a menace.
“If you don’t turn off that stupid screen at ten, I’m going to cut up all your cords,” you threatened, towel and spare clothes in your arms as you peeped your head in Jungkook’s room.
You were preparing to go to sleep early due to having stayed up late last night because of his stupid shooting game. It was also raining outside, which would aid in you falling asleep faster since you found the rain peaceful.
Jungkook didn’t reply and simply kept his focus on his screen. He wore a headset, fingers flying across the keyboard. Irritated at his lack of response, you stomped over to him and yanked off his headset.
To your utter annoyance, that didn’t even phase him.
“Jeon Jungkook, are you even listening?” you hissed.
Laughter came from somewhere in the room, but you two were the only one's home. It was not until you heard another voice that you knew where the sound was coming from.
“Is that your mom?” the voice laughed. “Tell her to go back to knitting a sweater for her cat.”
A gasp left your lips at the implication you were some old, wrinkly lady. You raised the headset to your face. You didn’t put it on, but you put your mouth near the microphone, so his “friends” could hear.
“How about you go eat your supper and go to bed, little vermin,” you angrily replied. “And I’ll have you know cats dressed in sweaters are cute!”
More laughter emitted from the headset.
“Supper?” another voice echoed. “I don’t think that’s his mom—more like his grandma.”
“Why you tiny piece of-”
“Give me the headset,” Jungkook finally acknowledged you. Not wanting to hear any more of the pests known as kids, you thrust the equipment in his open hand. You noticed his character had died and was waiting to respawn.
Jungkook slipped the headset back on and continued his game. “Relax guys. She’s just my roommate.”
Even though the device wasn’t near your ears, you could still hear their replies.
“Your grandma is your roommate?”
“She’s so uptight!”
“Seriously, tell her to calm down.”
Your hands clutched your belongings tighter. You told yourself to walk away—fighting with them was no use; however, you couldn’t stop yourself when you leaned down near Jungkook’s face to get near the mic once more.
“I hope your parents make you eat a pound of vegetables.”
“Go away,” Jungkook huffed and gave you a gentle shove.
“Tell me you’ll turn that off at ten.”
“Eleven,” he bargained, eyes glancing at you when his character died again. You must really be distracting him for him to have died twice within five minutes. Good. You hoped his ranking plummeted.
“Ten-thirty,” you said. “That or I grab my scissors.”
“Fine. Ten-thirty. Now leave before I get my own scissors.”
You scoffed, hand on your hip. “And do what with them? Make paper snowflakes?”
Jungkook smirked at you before turning back to his game. “Don’t think I don’t know where you hide that stupid stuffed chipmunk of yours.”
Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at him incredulously.
“Ten-thirty,” you repeated firmly before walking out of his room and shutting the door. The walls weren’t thick, but at least it kept some noise out.
You started making your way to your bathroom; however, you couldn’t get rid of the paranoia that Jungkook really knew where Mr. BonBon was. You made a quick detour to relocate your favorite plushie. You had won it at an arcade on your thirtieth try. It held sentimental (monetary) value.
Once you were done, you trekked to your bathroom. Finally, you could end your day with a relaxing steamy shower. No doubt your shoulders were sore from all the stress you’ve endured lately. From tests to 3 a.m. hollering, you couldn’t wait to have some time to decompress.
The feel of the hot water pouring down on your body had your eyes closed momentarily. You could probably stay there for half an hour, but your goal tonight was to go to sleep early. You kept that in mind as you went through your shower routine. You were just rinsing the soap from your body when the lights suddenly went out.
Startled by the unexpected darkness, you fumbled to turn off the water. It must be Jungkook pranking you.
You hastily grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body, so he couldn’t get a free show.
“Turn the lights back on, Jungkook!” you exclaimed.
When you didn’t get an answer, your brain started conjuring up fantasies. And not the ones where you find a charming partner and run off into the sunset. No, these thoughts consisted of a three-headed beast clawing its way from your drain, or a long-haired lady crawling from your mirror. While living with Jungkook was a pain in your rear, you much rather live with him for eternity than be captured by one of your “mind monsters.”
The haunting thoughts had you hastily scurrying from the shower, hair still dripping water and making a mess of your tiles. That was the least of your worries as an imaginary hand was reaching from the mirror that you passed on your way out of the bathroom.
You took two steps into your bedroom only to scream when you saw a dark figure standing a few feet from you. Your hand reached to your side to grab whatever was closest while the other clutched the towel around you. When you finally grabbed onto something, you flung it as hard as you could at the mysterious person.
They grunted, stumbling back a little and cursing under their breath.
“Calm down, it’s just me,” Jungkook grunted.
Your heart was still racing, but at least your shoulders eased.
“I could’ve killed you!” you screeched.
“I’d like to see you try,” he huffed. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you just knew that little shit was rolling his eyes.
As you were calming down, a loud thunder cracked outside. It had you jumping and shuffling closer to Jungkook unknowingly. That must be the reason for the power outage.
“I’m going to try to find a flashlight,” Jungkook spoke.
“What about your phone?” you wondered.
“Misplaced it, but I rather not use it right now anyway if I can’t charge it,” he said. He started to move, but you quickly stumbled closer so you could grab his wrist.
“Wait!” you exclaimed.
Jungkook paused in his steps to look at you. “What?”
“I- I can help you find it.”
The quiver in your voice grabbed Jungkook’s attention and he finally put some effort into reading your body language.
You were tensed, hand still holding onto him and your towel tightly. You were also strangely too close.
“You’re scared of the dark,” he stated, a small chuckle sounding at this realization.
“No! I’m j-just trying to help.”
Maybe you were scared. You hated the way your paranoia skyrocketed when you couldn’t see. There was something too eerie about having one of your five senses taken away from you.
“Are you crying?” he questioned, and you felt his hand brush against yours that held him.
“What? No. Why would you-”
“Something wet landed on me. Please don’t tell me that was your snot or something,” he replied, voice full of dread.
Your hair was still wet and probably leaving your floor slippery.
“I just came from the shower! It’s just water,” you groaned and slowly let go of his arm.
“O-oh.” He sounded startled.
Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness as some of the moonlight crept in from the window through your curtain.
“Let me change, but don’t-” you sighed at how much you needed him. “-don’t leave me.”
You expected Jungkook to make a witty reply, but he simply nodded, an action you could faintly see.
“Only if you let me sit on your bed,” he bargained. Each time he would climb on your bed, you would always shoo him away—claiming he was spreading his germs all over your clean sheets.
“Fine,” you said. You stuck out your arms as you felt your way to your closet. You could see the outline of some closer objects, but you still felt uncomfortable not seeing far away.
“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook cursed before you heard thudding.
“What happened?” you asked quickly, heart beginning to race as your mind pictured Jungkook getting snatched by the monster under your bed.
“Nothing,” he groaned. “When did you put a bench by your bed?”
Your body relaxed again. He must have tripped over it and fallen. “A day ago.”
Once you found your closest, you quickly changed to whatever your hands touched. You had clothes in the bathroom, but there was no way you were risking getting grabbed by another monster in there.
“Done,” you announced and reached out again. Jungkook met you halfway, taking your hand in his. It was your first time holding his hand, and you didn’t like the way your body warmed at his touch.
“Just going to go to my room; I have a flashlight there,” he instructed. His voice didn’t hold the playfulness or irritation it usually did. It was softer. It was odd to hear, but not unpleasant.
You followed him slowly down the hall to his room, the path familiar to you but still making you anxious.
“Wait here and I’ll get it,” he instructed and started to pull away. However, the moment he took a step forward, you clutched him again.
“S-sorry,” you said quickly when he was tugged back. Jungkook paused, staring down at you with eyes you couldn’t read.
Taking in a steady breath, he repositioned your hands onto his hoodie.
“It’s okay. Hold on,” he said and moved. You continued to hold onto his clothes while he shuffled around in his closet.
“Aha!”
Suddenly light flooded the room. Jungkook’s gaze drifted from the flashlight to you. With the light, your worrisome expression could be seen clearly. Not to mention, just how close you were to Jungkook.
“You okay?” he asked.
His voice had you moving away quickly, your body heating from embarrassment.
“Just fine,” you answered. “How long do you think the electricity will be out?”
Jungkook shrugged. “It depends I guess. For now, we can use this so our phones can save power.”
“Okay,” you sighed.
“Nice outfit,” Jungkook mumbled, voice teasing like you were used to. It somehow made you feel better.
You glanced down, only now taking in your mismatched attire.
“You try getting dressed in the dark,” you grumbled. He smiled and glanced around.
“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing.
You wanted to reject his invitation—make some sort of excuse to sleep in your own room; however, you knew you wouldn’t be okay sleeping alone. Before you could make your decision, Jungkook started to pull out an extra pillow and blanket from his closet. He tossed them onto the floor and then set the flashlight on the nightstand, light shining up at the ceiling. It had cast enough light to make you feel safer.
“If you don’t get in that bed, I’m going to keep playing until four,” he threatened light heartily when he saw you standing still.
“You already do that,” you argued but relented to his request.
“And I’ll continue doing that if you don’t-”
“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed as you climbed into his bed. “I’m in.”
Jungkook’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. “Good.”
A part of you wanted to offer to share his bed, however, you decided against it since you two weren’t that close. One night on the floor won’t hurt him anyway.
“Goodnight, Yn,” he mumbled from below.
You nestled in his covers, taking in the calming scent of them and letting your eyes close. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”
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Luckily, the electricity was only out for a few hours. It came back on in the middle of the night. You had started to leave Jungkook’s room, but he insisted you stay in case the power went out again. Not liking that possibility, you agreed. It wasn’t that bad being with Jungkook anyway.
Later that week, you came home to a box on your bed. You didn’t order anything lately, so you weren’t sure what it was. However, upon closer inspection, you saw your name on it. Inside was a chipmunk-shaped night light. You’ve seen these in stores and online, usually advertised to children, but that didn’t matter. It was battery-operated, which meant even if the power went out, you could still use the device.
Your lips lifted in a smile while you inspected the cute light. You set it on your nightstand and then returned your attention to the box. You still weren’t sure who had gifted you this. Though, sure enough, you found a card laying at the bottom of the box, face down. Turning it over, it read:
In case I’m not here next time. JK
Your eyes lingered on the hand-written note. Partly in denial that Jungkook, your annoying, disobeying roommate, had gotten you something so considerate. Nevertheless, your view of him was slowly changing—for the better.
You checked your clock and realized Jungkook would be home from his class soon. As a thank you, you started to cook dinner. It wasn’t going to be the most elaborate meal he's had since he was the better chief, but you hoped it would convey the gratitude you had for his thoughtful present.
Maybe living with Jungkook wasn’t that bad after all.
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A/N: Thank you again, anon! 🥰
Also if any of you knit sweaters for cats, you're a rockstar. Don't let anyone tell you differently 👿
For my "shy/silent" readers, I've created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^
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miekasa · 3 years
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any dad!levi hcs for father’s day today🥺🤲🏽
Absolutely!! I’ll do this I guess using the kids I have for him in my parent au? If you’ve read that, you know about Holden, but there are two more so prepare to meet them :’) happy father’s day to Levi <33
To begin with, you guys would plan to have your kids (to the best of your abilities; you were intentionally trying to have kids at a time when you both knew you were ready for them. 
Although accidents to do happen, and Levi would welcome an unplanned child all the same; that being said, if you’re both want a family, you would have discussed it beforehand (which is to a degree, is a lot about mental preparation for himself). 
In his perfect world, he’d have two daughters. They’d be equal parts him and you, and they’d be quiet and curious and lovely and life would be good. He’d spend his days with you and his two tiny daughters, raising his little family and doing all he could for his favorite girls. 
So, naturally, he does get two daughters, but also a son in between; and the latter two kids are far from easy in their own unique ways lmfao 
You might have already met Holden, and she’s the oldest in my dad Levi au, and the most like him. Levi’s dark hair, his grey eyes, his overall unimpressed visage, his knack for cleanliness and organization—down to the way she holds her sippy cups, she’s damn near Levi’s doppleganger. 
Holden is somewhere between 3.5-4 years old before you have your second kid, and in that time is when Levi confirms he thinks he was cut out to be a certified Girl Dad. 
Both Levi and Holden take quality father-daughter time very seriously. It’s impossible to change plans once they’re set: “Daddy, you promised we would go to the famer’s market on Sunday. You pinky promised.” And Levi wouldn’t dare break a pinky promise, so he makes time for it. 
Levi doesn’t play favorites with his kids, but there is something special about Holden as his first born. He’s constantly in awe of just how much she resembles him. Four years into raising her and it’s still hard to wrap his head around. 
Much to his chagrin, Hange and Eren are Holden’s favorite adults. Maybe Levi understands the admiration for Hange, but Eren... come on, Holden, you’re breaking his heart at that point. 
It’s almost out of character for your daughter to be so openly affectionate about someone outside of your immediate family, but she really loves having Eren as a babysitter; and you know she’s playing favorites, because she remains neutral on Armin, even though he and Eren always babysit as a duo. 
She doesn’t have a favorite grandparent, but Kenny spoils her the most. Levi tells him he shouldn’t, but when has Kenny ever listened to Levi. The man isn’t a fan of kids, but he thinks yours and Levi’s are pretty cool, and Holden is about the coolest 4 year old he could ever meet. 
When she was learning to walk, Levi’s favorite thing was holding her little hand and guiding her around. Even now, when she can stand perfectly fine on her own two feet, Levi loves it when she reaches for his hand; Holden is a pretty independent kid, even at 4 years old, so Levi never takes affection from her for granted. 
They’re best friends and Holden goes everywhere with him. Their favorite father-daughter activity is going to the grocery store, and Levi lets Holden point to and assess her favorite fruits and veggies while she sits happily in the shopping cart. 
Sometimes there are other parents struggling with a kid throwing a temper tantrum. Levi simply clicks his teeth, while Holden shakes her little head. “That’s pretty embarassing, daddy,” she says, looking at the poor parent with an unamused glare that rivals Levi’s. He nods and pushes the cart past the scene, “Tell me about it, kid.” 
Your second kid is a boy, and he looks more like you than Levi, but manages to have Levi’s signature hair color and pout when things aren’t going his way.
He comes as a shock to both you and Levi, because after your ultrasound, you were told you were having another girl. Turns out, they’d accidentally mixed up your files, and you were having a boy instead, which you do not find out until your mid-term check up a few months later. Cue Levi buffering like an old computer. 
Kiaan is welcomed all the same, even tho Levi is still in disbelief; he was mentally preparing to have another daughter on his hands. He puts more pressure on himself with his son; not that he wasn’t trying his best to be a parent to Holden, but any insecurities he might have about being a good come out when your son is born, because Levi has no “man of the house” example to follow from. 
You reassure him that your son will turn out to be just fine, and raising him the way you raised Holden, and would have raised another daughter is perfectly acceptable. Of course Levi rises to the occasion after the initial shock; he’s determined to be the dad to his son that he never had. 
Where Holden is more reserved, Kiaan likes to talk and babble about anything whenever and wherever he can, to whoever is around. It’s not uncommon for you or Levi to find your son completely entertained by telling a story out loud to himself while playing with his toys.
Loves to rope Levi into making his toys interact and have “conversations” with each other, and Kiaan genuinely thinks his dad is hilarious, even if he doesn’t completely understand what he’s saying. It always makes Levi smile to hear Kiaan try and copy the bass and tone of his voice when he’s mocking him. 
Kiaan loves messing with his dad, and Levi’s all talk, so of course he lets him. He’ll be on a Zoom meeting for work, and Kiaan will be sat in his lap, running little toy cars across the desk in front of him, or tugging on Levi’s hair, and Levi just lets him. It makes quite the cute sight, and Hange has definitely taken a few screen recordings. 
That being said, your son is more of a mama’s boy than anything. Kiaan loves messing with Levi, but if you’re in the room, there’s a 95% chance he’ll be on your lap or at your side shadowing whatever you’re doing. 
Kiaan is a universal copycat tho, so whatever you, Levi, or Holden say or do, he tries for himself. This makes him especially susceptible to repeating Levi’s foul language and bad habits than Holden. (“Kiaan, you can’t sleep on the chair, it’s not good for your back.” “But daddy sleeps on the chairs sometimes!” “...Alright kid, you got me there.”) 
He’s a very loving kid with his words, too, always thanking people and proclaiming his love, so he doesn’t exactly have a “favorite” adult or babysitter, but he does get particularly excited when Erwin or Farlan come around. He feels especially tall when Erwin lets him sit on his shoulders, and Farlan always entertains his story-telling. 
He’s a sucker for his grandma though, and gives Kuchel a million kisses whenever she comes around. Does not let go over her for the entire time she’s over at your house, and will sit on her lap throughout dinner. 
The most affectionate child, so where Holden only likes holding hands, Kiaan loves cuddling with you and Levi, and likes to be held whenever possible. Levi spoils him a little too much, and more often than not, if you’re walking outside for more than two hours, Kiaan will end up on Levi’s shoulders or in your arms. 
Your last kid is another girl, and, yeah she’s just a baby no older than a few months, but Levi can’t help but think she’s especially tiny, and he can’t help but to look at her and hold her whenever possible. Your baby girl also leaves Levi a little dumbstruck because she manages to look like a combination of you and his mother. 
As she grows, it becomes apparent that you’ve got another daddy’s girl on your hands. Doesn’t matter if you’re literally breast feeding her, Aria will throw a tantrum if she’s separated from Levi for more than an hour. 
The good news is, her sleep cycle is as irregular as Levi’s, so he’s got someone to keep him company when everyone else has gone to bed for the evening. Unfortunately, this also means Aria naps a lot during the day, which leaves Levi a little bored since Holden is old enough to be in school full-time, and Kiaan is gone for at least a portion of the day. 
So, he would never tell you, but sometimes he wakes Aria up from her naps just a little bit early to spend more time with her (and cure his boredom). Having an infant trying to grab at his hair with her ravioli sized baby fists while he tries to cook lunch certainly makes the task more difficult, but it also adds welcomed color to his day.
You and Levi have to hold Aria constantly when she’s awake or else she’ll cry (although, if you leave her in the arms of her siblings, she does settle down, too); that, or she’ll find her tiny baby hands somewhere they shouldn’t be. Like dipped in a jar of strawberry jam. Or peanut butter. Or both. 
Levi talks to his kids like he would any other adult, so it’s not uncommon to find him brewing tea with a baby strapped to his chest, narrating the steps to good tea-making out loud to her for her to hear. He swears she can understand him, and he attributes Holden and Kiaan’s growing vocabularies, and the early ages at which they started speaking to this. 
Aria will be in her little chest strap thing while Levi’s cooking dinner, and he’ll look down at her like, “Alright, we’re gonna julienne your carrots today. Yesterday we cubed them, but you’ve got grabby hands, so this will give you more room to work with.”
Kiaan loves holding Aria and honestly just being around her, and you and Levi think it’s adorable how he loves to play with her, and how he knows to be gentle with her. He shares a room with her, and loves sharing his bedtime story times, so you or Levi will read them to sleep together. 
Holden isn’t crazy about babies, but she’s a good older sister, and Aria seems to be obsessed with her. She crawls and scoots towards her if given the opportunity, and Holden will always look to you or Levi before attempting to hold or lift her up, as if asking permission. She’ll pat Aria’s head to get her to stop crying, or let her play with her hands. 
Levi thinks one of the best parts about being a dad is seeing the different dynamics and relationships between your kids. Holden isn’t most physically or verbally affectionate, but she’s still compassionate, and Kiaan looks up to her; and Kiaan is the perfect middle ground, knowing when it’s appropriate to bother (affectionate) Holden, and when to give her space, and curiously hovers around his baby sister, too. 
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tea-and-spoons · 3 years
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What happens when... I develop a new food allergy?
Whether this is your first food allergy, or the most recent in a long list, it can still be a rough adjustment and overwhelming amount of change.  But as someone who has gone through this more than twenty times, I promise you it’s not the end of the world.
The majority of this post is related to severe, anaphylactic food allergies, but I’m of course always going to advocate for being careful, and some of this will apply to milder allergies too.  This advice also works if you were just diagnosed with celiac disease, or another condition that makes you sensitive to cross contamination.  I’m going to let your doctor handle the medical side of this, but I’m hoping this post will cover all the other things you need to know!
I made some pretty thorough lists of things to check, replace, or clean to make sure you’re safe from allergens- I’ll put those at the end of this post.  It is a lot- recruit a non-allergic friend to help if you can!
But before I get into the lists, here are some other things I’ve learned about getting a new food allergy.
-Update your doctors, including your dentist.  And also update any emergency info you have around, like your medical ID in your phone.
-Research other names for your allergen and what it might be found in.  Food labelling can be very sneaky, which is Not Cool, but you get really good at reading ingredient labels once you know what to look for.  I would stay away from googling too many other allergy related things though, it’s an easy way to get into a panic.
-Talk to the people you live with.  Hopefully they’re good about it, but they might take a while to understand, or might even be angry and resistant, which honestly is beyond me.  If this is your situation, I am so so sorry.  You deserve to feel safe in your own home, no matter what.  If you can set some ground rules and get people on board even a little bit, that will help, and hopefully everyone will come around eventually.
-You should also talk to your partner, or anyone you might be kissing (or who might be kissing you, even on the cheek.  Hi grandma.)  Their foods, medications, reusable water bottles, and toothbrush are all possible ways you could get sick.  So even if they haven’t eaten allergens in hours, it could still be on their toothbrush and that can be enough to cause a reaction.  This research article (Maloney JM, et al. Peanut allergen exposure through saliva: assessment and interventions to reduce exposure. J Allergy Clin Immunol 2006; 118: 719-724.) found that waiting at least an hour and having something allergen free to eat was the best way to de-poison-ify for someone you want to kiss.  I’ve also heard from other allergists that 3-4 hours is the right number.  So I would ask your allergist what they recommend for you.
(note:  I would like to keep this blog safe and friendly for spoonies of all ages, but if you are in need of more information about dating and allergies, feel free to message me and I’ll send you some links!)
-One thing that surprised me with some of my food allergies was the cravings.  Sometimes I never want to even hear the word “pineapple” again, but especially if it was something like eggs that are more a hidden ingredient, I struggled with cravings for foods I couldn’t have anymore, like French toast.  And I’m not even someone who likes food that much!  So I’m here to tell you that the cravings are normal, and will subside in a few weeks.  It also helps to just not be around things you can’t eat for a bit.  And to look for replacement recipes for your favorites- there’s so much out there, it’s really impressive.
-The other common (emotional) reaction is anxiety.  Anaphylactic food allergies can be life threatening, of course you’re scared!  It is 100% normal to be worried and afraid and anxious and terrified, especially after an allergic reaction.  That response happens to help keep you safe!  But it’s also exhausting, and can get out of control.  My best advice here is to follow the concrete steps you need to be safe, and then tell yourself that you’ve done everything you can, you know what you’re doing, and even if something goes wrong, you know you are prepared.  You can be prepared and careful AND not have to be scared all the time.  There is zero shame in seeing a therapist about this too, they can really help.  (My advice here is borrowed from my lovely therapist!)
And here are the lists I mentioned earlier!  I hope this helps you feel safer and more prepared.  Severe food allergies are a big change, but you got this!
Things to replace:
-Toothbrush (and maybe toothpaste too)
-Any food that is still safe but might be cross contaminated (like flour, sugar, spices, things that go on toast… basically any open containers)
-Kitchen sponges and rags and anything else that gets used to hand wash dishes
-Chapstick and lipstick
-Stim toys that go in your mouth
-Cast iron kitchen equipment
-Cutting boards
-Reeds (if you play a reed instrument)
-Ice cubes, if you have a tray in your freezer that people reach into
Things to clean:
-Kitchen itself, including all appliances and countertops
-Anywhere else food is kept or eaten (such as pantry, dining room, couch, in your purse, desk, locker)
-All cooking supplies (plates, pans, silverware, crockpot, basically everything)
-Potholders and oven mitts
-Pillowcases
-Dish towels
-Doorknobs
-Handles
-Light switches
-Remotes
-Cloth napkins
-Reusable water bottles
-Kitchen drawers that might have gotten crumbs or residue in them
-Retainer or mouthguard
-Lunchbox
-Toys and fidgets
-Purse/backpack
-Writing utensils
-Car steering wheel, controls, and handles (especially if you’re the driver)
-Inhaler, spacer, nebulizer, CPAP mask, and other related equipment
-Oral thermometer
-Face masks
-Phone, computer keyboards, touch screens
-Hand or wrist braces
-Video game controllers
-Any musical instruments you play, but especially if it’s a wind instrument.  Plus the case, and any cleaning equipment.
-Whatever your toothbrush is stored in
Things to check the labels on:
-All your food (what you have at home, and anything new you buy)
-Toothpaste
-Floss
-Shampoo and other hair products
-Hand soap and dish soap
-Deodorant
-Makeup and chapstick
-Medications
-Lotions
-Sunblock
-Pet food (if their food turns out to contain your new allergen, you might want to clean or replace their toys as well.  And a bath for the pet themselves!)
If I missed anything on my lists, please feel free to add on in the replies!  If you need someone to talk to or have questions, you’re welcome to message me.  And I promise this gets easier 💙
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shih-coulda-had-it · 4 years
Note
Everything is the same but Sorahiko has a cooking youtube called "Torino Cooking"
Okay, so I had no idea how to execute this until I remembered there’s like a whole niche of gaming grandmas. So why not cooking grandpas?
//
There are many, many channels that surpass TorinoCooking on YouTube. In terms of subscribers and video quality, TorinoCooking has little. The narrator is a grouchy old bastard who won’t show his face and moreover, only speaks in Japanese. He doesn’t bother adding any subtitles. The videos are obviously filmed on a phone’s camera. The most TorinoCooking can boast is a consistent weekly upload schedule, and the veritable library of videos available to watch.
Midoriya Izuku stumbles onto TorinoCooking purely out of chance and a messed-up algorithm. He’s young, obsessed with All Might, but not too certain how to navigate YouTube’s celebratory 20XX interface.
(To be fair, for the first hour, no one knows how to navigate the 20XX interface.)
One click leads to another. A clip of All Might entertaining fellow eight year olds--you, too, can be a great hero!--goes into All Might cheerfully following a chef’s instruction on how to make All Might Onigiri--packed with nutrition!--and then…
Izuku squints at the desaturated picture on the player. He holds his All Might figurine close and startles when a rough, warm voice starts to talk.
“There’s only so many recipes in the world,” says an old man. Izuku can tell he’s old because the hands that come on-screen, rinsing the rice by hand, are veined, liver-spotted, and knobbly-knuckled. “I figure there’s no harm making All Might Onigiri. Pah. Cheap trick to get kids eating carrots. Whatever works, I guess.”
The voice is level throughout the video. Nothing shocks the old man.
Izuku is enthralled by the steady camerawork. Most of the videos he watches are bright, bouncy, and prone to swift bursts of scene-cuts. Or in the case of All Might sightings, shaky because of adrenaline. He’s okay with that; he’s shaky too, seeing his hero perform miracles.
But the old man moves with care, and it’s almost soothing on Izuku’s brain to see those All Might onigiri be crafted in a sedate environment. The humorous commentary tends to fly over his head, but it sounds like the old man is inviting him to have a giggle at his expense. Later, Izuku will understand that they are inside jokes.
The video ends with a slightly grainy shot of three neatly-made All Might Onigiri.
The old man says, wryly, “Have no fear, I am here,” and then the screen goes black. The autoplay symbol starts to load, and Izuku frantically leans forward and clicks for the username.
TorinoCooking is old. Like, his account dates back to when YouTube first started!
None of the videos exceed ten minutes, nor do they exceed over a thousand views. Izuku guesses he understands. Torino is kind of boring. He doesn’t even have pop music running in the background.
He clicks another video at random, close to the beginning of the catalogue. All Might will understand.
“Brat,” says a younger Torino irritably, “stop messing with my phone.”
The shadows obscuring the camera fade away to reveal a smiling boy with yellow sunflower hair, stronger than Kacchan’s, and fluffier too. His smile is so familiar. Izuku unconsciously mirrors it, and feels a pang of loss when the boy moves out of frame. The view turns to a cutting board, with various bell peppers, a slice of ham, and an onion are set aside.
“Sorry, sorry, Torino-sensei,” the boy laughs. “But oshishou said your hair was in frame last time! She also said you should get higher counters, so you don’t have to keep hunching over them.”
“Hn. Stop hovering and do your homework.”
“I already did it! I thought you said you were gonna teach me how to cook!”
“That’s what the videos are for.” Torino’s hands, firmer and more clear-skinned with youth, come into frame. They are holding a very big knife. “Do you want your Denver omelette or what?”
“I do, I do,” says the boy, frantic. “Um, uh, I have--a project. Yep. I will now be doing that project, in my room… can I have extra ham?”
Torino audibly growls. Izuku clutches All Might close, wide-eyed, even though the knife on-screen isn’t quivering with malicious intent. The boy yelps and apparently leaves the kitchen, because then Torino sighs and turns his attention to the cutting board.
His left hand adds another slab of ham.
“Going soft,” Torino mutters, and then he’s slicing and dicing, as coolly competent as he is decades later. “Core your peppers,” he continues, “and segment them like this. Then you can stack and cut more evenly…”
Izuku’s mom finds him sleeping in the desk’s chair, lulled to sleep by the endless recipes.
(The very first video is about taiyaki. It isn’t Torino’s hands in frame, but the hands are large and square and worn from work. It isn’t Torino’s voice that comes through the speakers, but the voice is low and smooth and undeniably feminine.
“I asked you to film videos for Toshinori’s benefit. Why am I being the guinea pig for your video set-up?”
“Karmic retribution.”
The woman laughs. And if you listen very, very closely, there is a soft, fond chuckle accompanying her.)
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sundaywonder · 3 years
Text
the lost song : yoonmin
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Getting ready to start fresh in life, physical education professor Park Jimin is just waiting to migrate to Australia with his daughter and girlfriend. Everything gets topsy-turvy when world-class music producer Min Yoongi—and also his secret ex-boyfriend—comes back home to South Korea to marry his it-girl fiancé. If that wasn’t bad enough for Jimin, Yoongi invites him to the wedding. It gets worse; it leaves him no choice but accept it to avoid spilling the beans.
Although the worst happened back then, it’s not enough for their forsaken what-ifs and unsaid feelings from making itself clear. The situation makes Jimin realize how jaded he was without Yoongi all the years they were apart—and vice versa. As they slowly pick up the broken pieces of the past, reality hits hard back at them again. There are two choices: to give up on love and live in the present or to run away and never look back.
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Genre: Romance, Adult Fiction, Melodrama, Erotica
Fandom: BTS, BLACKPINK, Red Velvet, IU
Pairing: Suga & Jimin, Jimin & Rosé, Suga & Jennie, IU & Jungkook, Wendy & j-hope
Rating: M or R-18 — contains sensitive themes, strong language and graphic depiction of sexual activity
Status: Ongoing — 6/12
Link: Wattpad, ao3
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Excerpt: The Flower Bloomed — 10 Years Ago
Yoongi, 20
I hurriedly go down the stairs while vigorously drying my head with a towel. I knew I would oversleep. Aside from being a deep sleeper, I’m also not used to waking up as early as 7 a.m. Nine is still pretty early if you’d ask me. The cool air last night made everything even worse. I shouldn’t have opened the windows.
Good thing my grandma heard Aunt Hyeja yelling outside our house. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t have even noticed that her and our other neighbors’ missed calls and text messages.
“Make sure none of the kids get injured, okay? We don’t have money for their hospital bills if ever,” reminds grandma as she followed me down. I don’t hear and comprehend what she said until five seconds later.
“Got it. Bye.” When I get out of our gate, I immediately see Aunt Hyeja who was waiting for me outside.
“We’ll get going, Auntie Dooshim!” exclaims Aunt Hyeja.
“Alright, have a safe trip!”
“I’m so sorry, Auntie. I really am.” She walks so briskly that I have a hard time catching up with her. Regardless, I feel like that’s how should it be; I must walk maybe two or three steps behind her after what I’ve done.
“Don’t think about it anymore. The kids are already in there. You know our numbers so contact us immediately if anything goes wrong. There’s a ton of food on the table so feed yourselves when you get hungry. Don’t leave at least one of them unattended. Never attend to the gate if it’s a stranger and refrain from telling them that an adult is not present—oh, how old are you again?”
“Twenty.”
“My bad. It slipped my mind that you’re already an adult. Anyway, did you understand everything clearly?” I just nod. Aunt Hyeja doesn’t seem to be mad but it’s fairly obvious that she’s already dying to leave. I discreetly peek at her watch which says 7:15 a.m. I can’t help but shake my head. I reminded myself endless times to do well in this babysitting gig but I still ended up ruining the first thing about it. There must be something really wrong with me.
After arriving in front of the home of my best friends, brothers Seokjin and Taehyung, she tells me, “Also, your Aunt Misun told me that Jimin won’t be able to attend the excursion because he’s sick. He’s going to be home alone today so I told him that he can contact you if he needs anything.”
I gulped as soon as I heard Jimin’s name and forced myself to act nonchalant. “W-what happened to him?” It was definitely hard to do so.
“He has fever,” she replied. “Don’t you guys get more written projects in lieu of not attending out-of-the-classroom activities?”
“Yes.”
“So, does it mean you like completing paperworks instead of attending trips and such?” I just let out a fake chuckle and nodded. I’m sure it wouldn’t sit with her when I say that I don’t like socializing and going to places with a lot of people. Aunt Hyeja is a social butterfly and—I don’t want to sound like I’m judging her (but maybe I am)—she’s not exactly the type of person to bother understand things deeper if it doesn’t concern her. Besides, it’s lengthy and we’re not that close for me to open up to her. An awkward giggle is probably better than an explanation.
The Kims already left when I entered and all the four kids were sleeping on the sofa in the living room, not even noticing my entrance. I decide to just sit on the floor and watch TV in low volume. My body is asking for me to sleep so badly that pinching myself isn’t working anymore. A faint regret is starting to form in my chest but I cut it out immediately.
After getting bored of the morning makjang drama that I forced myself to watch, I turn around to check on them. Jingoo—a cousin of Seokjin and Taehyung, as well as Namjoon who is also a cousin of the two—is already up but still lying on his stomach while silently watching the drama with me. Our eyes meet but he doesn’t say a word and just shifts his eyes back at the screen.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” I ask. Jingoo just nods. “What did you eat?”
“Seaweed rice balls and jeon.”
“Tell me when you’re hungry.” He just nods once again.
Our conversation awakens Taejoon, Chanbin and Yeongyu. Unlike Jingoo, they wanted to eat so I prepared the food that was left for us. Being alone with these kids who I barely know suddenly makes me feel weird for some reason. It’s probably because I don’t have any experience in babysitting. So far, it’s an alright deal. The money is good and you practically get paid to stay at home.
I leave them and go back to the living room, sitting beside Jingoo’s feet who hasn’t moved an inch ever since he woke up. “Where did they go?” He asks, not moving his eyes from the screen.
“A trip.”
“Event aunt and uncle? I thought it was a school trip.”
I let out a sigh and close my eyes. Some sort of hot energy constantly forms in my head the longer I talk to this kid.  “I don’t know why. Ask them when they come back later.”
It got rowdy when they started to play. This is way worse than I imagined. Toy cars and guns are all over the place and I need to remind them every two to three minutes that they shouldn’t be shooting bullets on the TV screen, as well as the vases and figurines. None of my words seem to get to their tiny heads.
I take back what I said. I don’t want to this ever again. I wasn’t like this when I was a kid. Even my friends. We weren’t anything like this. Not even close. We were well-liked by the neighborhood in general because of that.
Out of the blue, my phone suddenly vibrated. My heart almost dropped on the floor when I read Jimin’s name on the screen.
[JIMIN :)
1 NEW MESSAGE]
All of a sudden, my heart started to pound like it wanted to get out of my chest. I took a deep breath before flipping my phone and pressing View.
[JIMIN :)
Hey, can I go there? It’s getting a little boring here.]
[ME (draft)
Of course! Bring what you need!]
I delete it before I could even think twice. I cringed at what I just typed.
[ME (draft)
Okay, but it’s a little loud here]
Maybe not. He might end up not going if I say that.
[ME
Sure]
[JIMIN :)
I’ll bring ramen]
[ME (draft)
Okay]
I press the end call button and just fold my phone instead. I immediately go to the bathroom and wash my face with soap and water. I run my wet hands through my hair as well. Just as I got out, someone knocked on the door.
“Don’t shoot on anything!” I yell before walking out the door.
“Hey,” greets Jimin as soon as I open the gate. Unlike his usual self, the gloomy aura surrounding him can be clearly felt. His face and shoulders seem wretched as well.
“Are you alright? You look so pale.”
“Trying to be.”
“Stay in Seokjin’s or Taehyung’s room if you want to get some rest. It’s a little rowdy in the living room.”
“Thanks. I’ll go text him.”
As soon as I hear Seokjin’s bedroom door close, I make an announcement to the kids. “Jimin’s sick. Don’t make any loud noises from now on.” It did subside but only for a short while. “You kids, anyone who makes loud noises will not get to eat lunch.” They stop playing tok look at me with a weird expression on their faces, as if they’ve never heard someone say such a thing to them before. A hint of fear can also be seen. I fucked up again, didn’t I?
Unlike what I said, I started to prepare lunch when the clock hit noon. The kids gathered at the table and chowed down as soon as the food was ready. Meanwhile, I got my own food and ate in the living room.
[ME (draft)
Hey, lunch is ready. Can you go down here?]
[ME
Lunch is ready, feel free to eat here.]
[JIMIN :)
What’s for lunch?]
[ME
Pork belly, barbecue, dumplings, rice and kimchi]
[JIMIN :)
Damn, will go there ASAP]
I wipe the droplets of sweat on my forehead. My breath keeps on running as if they are trying to get away from something… or someone. I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about this. It only makes me go crazier and crazier. Even my well-trained emotional suppression skills are barely working. Helpless, hopeless—that’s what I am.
“Hey!”
“Shit!” I hold to my chest in shock and turn around. “I-it’s you.”
“Yes, it’s me. You okay? You’re deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice me pass in front of you,” asks Jimin.
I shake my head. “I just zoned out.”
“Shit!” Taejoon mimicks while the other three laugh.
“Shit!” Chanbin and Yeongyu repeat in unison which makes them laugh even harder.
“Are you kids an adult to say that?” I ask.
“Shit!” The three exclaim, not even bothering to answer me.
Suddenly, I hear Jimin giggle softly—making me look back at him. “So, you can already laugh. Feeling better now?”
He just nods with a faint smile and takes a spoonful of kimchi stew. “Mmm, delicious. Did you cook?”
“Nope, one their parents probably.”
Neither of us talked after that; I just pretended the focus on my food while his eyes wandered around the place. Even though it feels like I need to say something, not a single word’s coming to my mind. My mouth is left agape from the urge to speak but not knowing what to say. For some reason, it seems to me that he’s feeling the same way. But how can I know for sure?
The kids come back to the living room not long after they have finished eating. I couldn’t thank the heavens enough; this is the only time today that I’ve actually become happy about their presence. Before they can even settle on their seats, I stand up to play the first Disney DVD my hand landed on: The Incredibles.
Jimin passes behind me so I look at him. He’s bringing my dirty plate with him to the kitchen. “Hey, s-sorry. You didn’t have to.”
He looks back and says, “Huh?”
“The plate.”
“Psh. It’s nothing.”
I follow him to the sink where he’s silently washing the dishes. He almost looks like he’s zoned out and submerged in his deep thoughts.
“Hey!” I jokingly yell from his back.
“Sh—!” He accidentally loses his grip on the plate he’s holding. It falls back to the sink, causing a small chip on the edge. “Oh, no…”
“I’m so sorry,” I say as I try to catch my breath. The plate looks expensive with all those blue Chinese prints. It most definitely came from an expensive dinnerware collection and Mrs. Kim would kill me if she sees this. I might have to babysit for nine or ten more times just to pay for the damage.
“Don’t worry about it. It was an accident.”
“But it looks expensive!”
“I was the one who lost grip on it, what are you being so worried about?” Jimin says with a faint giggle. I’m not buying it; he doesn’t sound amused at all. “Also, wanna watch?” He nonchalantly asks.
“This?” I ask back, pointing at the TV.
He just shakes his head. “Seokjin has a big collection up there.” I just looked blankly at him, deliberately making it obvious that I need more details to get what he’s saying. “Sola Aoi, Asami Yuma, Haruna Hana and so much more. We have everything we need up there!” I feel my whole body suddenly heat up upon hearing what he just said and my legs seem like they want to give up on me. “Hey, you okay?”
“Th-the kids…”
He takes a peek at them. “They’re already asleep.”
I look back at the kids and close my eyes in panic. Images of him being half-naked while beating off instantly flash in my mind. I vigorously shake my head along those thoughts. I can’t count how many times I saw him naked in the past. We even used to take a bath together along with the other guys when were younger. But this time everything’s different, especially to me, and it sucks big time. “Okay, then…”
He opens the dish dryer and puts all the now-squeaky clean plates, glasses, spoons and forks. “Don’t be so nervous. They’ll probably stay asleep until twilight or something.”
“Maybe,” I replied to him even if his words just seemed to bounce against my head. Naked. Naked. Naked. My mind just doesn’t seem to get tired about this goddamn word and keeps asking for more. Now, even the way he looks and smiles at me is starting to mean something else.
Jimin grabs my arm and pulls me until we reach Seokjin’s room. Before I could even react, the door was already locked and his pants and underwear were on the floor. My manhood starts to throb and harden as soon as my eyes lands on his half-naked body. He’s grown much bigger and thicker ever since I last saw him. That was a few years ago—same situation as now but with Hoseok and Taehyung, minus the feelings. To stop myself from completely breaking down out of panic and ruining everything for good, including our friendship, I just turn my head at a random teddy bear on Seokjin’s bed.
I sit beside him on the carpet and before also taking off my short pants and underwear. A strange kind of electricity seemed to charge on my body when I saw him look at my manhood. His mouth slightly gaped but he immediately closed it and focused on operating the DVD player. Since the tapes weren’t labeled, we don’t know what those contained. Jimin chooses just whatever. The video begins, and we see Sola Aoi who was wearing a provocative nurse uniform enter the hospital room where the middle-aged male patient was in.
I lean on the bed to relax and force myself to focus on the film. Jimin’s already starting to touch himself. He looks back at me with an unexplainable expression in his eyes. It’s been a while since I did this with them but I’m sure we didn’t look at each other while beating off, or maybe I’m just forcing weird meanings. At this point, I can’t even trust myself anymore.
I couldn’t help but start to actually beat off as soon as Sola started to moan. All of us in our group likes her the most for how irresistible she sounds when she’s getting fucked. It makes the film feel like 5D.
The film already ended but neither of us reached climax yet. When I was almost there, I stopped. I don’t know why but I felt like I needed to do so. As I try to catch my breath, I watch him while he did his business.
To my surprise, Jimin also stops and joins me in leaning on the bed, panting hard. He looked at me straight in the eyes, then his gaze dropped on my lips. “They look dry…”
Before I even knew it, our lips were all over each other and his tongue has successfully penetrated my mouth. Jimin’s hands start to explore inside my shirt before pulling it off of me. He removes his own next. My hands are frozen on his groin in disbelief. Everything seems like a dream but all of these are a hundred percent real.
“Jimin…” I mindlessly say.
“Do whatever you want to do to me.” He grabs my hand and places it on top of his manhood. “Don’t hold back.”
I pull his head and kiss him hard before pushing him down. Only God and I know how much he looks good with nothing on but his golden rolo chain necklace. “As long as you let me, I won’t.”
If you’re reading until here, thank you so much! The Wattpad and ao3 links where you can read the whole story are available above.
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Text
Flatbush & Atlantic: part x
part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix
And we’ve finally come to the end of Cass and Mat’s story! I want to thank every person who’s read this over the past few months, especially those of you who have reblogged, commented, and shared this with your friends. Your feedback means the world to me, and please tell me what you think of this final part! I’ve also got some ideas floating around for an epilogue, so don’t be surprised if that pops up in the next few weeks.
part x
May 21 (fri)
For once, it wasn’t Cass’ alarm that woke her up. Her internal clock didn’t let her sleep in past 6, but as she lay in her bed, comforter pulled up to her chin and curls up in a haphazard messy bun, a realization struck her. She didn’t have anything to do, and that was just about as far from normal for her as possible. Normally, she’d be hopping in the shower at this time, getting out and shoveling some cereal down her throat before running to catch the train, or desperately trying to finish some last-minute reading before an early lecture. Her grandparents’ flight didn’t land at JFK until 1, and she wouldn’t need to leave until an hour before that to get Mat and drive to the airport. 
Padding out to the kitchen, she just caught Ryanne, who was about to leave for a clinical rotation. “What department are you in this month?” Cass asked.
“OB/GYN,” Ryanne responded. “I got to observe a birth the other day, and it was one of my favorite things I’ve gotten to do so far. Obviously I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I might want to match into it. You get to do a little bit of everything — there’s some surgery, some routine care, some deliveries. And with the Black maternal health crisis, I figure we need all the Black OBs we can get as a country.” 
Cass smiled. “That’s wonderful, I’m glad to hear.” She knew that Ryanne had been a little stressed out with the prospect of trying to pick a residency; she hadn’t felt drawn to any of the other rotations she’d gone through quite like this one. 
“What about you? What’s your schedule like today?” Ryanne asked as she poured coffee into her travel mug. 
Cass flopped down on the couch, looking over at her. “It’s just...I have nothing to do. Nothing needs to get done. No cases to read, no essays to finish, no paperwork to file or anything. Chris gave me this week off for finals anyways, so I couldn’t even go into the office if I wanted to because there’s just nothing for me to do. Do you know how rare that is for me?”
Ryanne laughed. “Cass, I’m in med school. The last time I had a true ‘off day’ was two weeks ago, and even then I spent most of it studying.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder. “See you tonight, have a good day, babe!”
After some toast and a smoothie, Cass was back on the couch, trying desperately to think of something to do. She thrived on being busy, thrived on feeling like she was needed and contributing to something worthwhile. Pushing herself up, she walked back to her room, deciding to change and go out for a run. Cass liked to keep in shape and exercise as often as she could, even though it had been a few years since she had been on an organized sports team. She was usually able to make yoga classes at the school gym twice a week, but typically didn’t have the spare time in the mornings for a run. And by the time she got back it was almost always dark, way too late to even think about going out alone. 
Lacing up her tennis shoes and grabbing her AirPods and keys, she set out, down the stairs and past the door. As she jogged down the streets, making familiar turn after familiar turn, Cass realized something remarkably profound. Every place she passed had played a part in the last three years. St. Lucy’s, where she had stumbled in with inconsolable tears after her abuelo’s stroke, lighting a candle and praying with some old Italian woman for his recovery. The bodega on the corner run by Carlos Gonzalez, one of the first people she met when she moved to the city and the only one who knew how to smoosh her sandwiches down how she likes. The Edible Arrangements where she, Stella, and Ryanne had bought Alicia a congratulatory fruit bouquet for finally asking out her coworker Juliette. They had been dating for six months. The high school she passed every morning on her way to the subway station. These were the people and places that had made her life what it was, and she owed them her thanks. 
An hour and five miles later, Cass decided to call it quits, walking the last few blocks back to the apartment as a sort of cool-down. She jumped in the shower, throwing her hair up in a towel once she got out and resigning herself to watching whatever was on TV. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives it was, apparently. Four episodes and one snack break later, it was time to get in the car to head over and pick up Mat. Cass drove down Manhattan Island, tapping her fingers in boredom as she hit yet more traffic. It was noon, why was there even traffic in the first place? She pulled into the visitor’s spot in the underground lot of Mat’s apartment complex, taking out her phone. Just got here! Mat popped out of the elevator a few minutes later, holding a bouquet of tulips. “Sorry I’m late, I was going back and forth between tulips and sunflowers for awhile, but I figured the pink was maybe a better choice? What do you think?” Cass started to laugh, and Mat looked offended. “What?”
“Babe, it’s so sweet that you want to impress my grandma, but have you thought about how the poor flowers will fare?”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Cass adjusted her seatbelt, leaning over. “We’re going to be out for awhile. We’re not going straight back to their hotel. So…” she prompted.
“They’ll wilt.” Mat finished, his face falling. 
She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry. It’s a sweet gesture and I’m sure she’ll appreciate them. We’re all going out for dinner after the ceremony tomorrow, why don’t you bring them then?” 
He perked up. “I’ll run up and put them back in a vase, be back in a few!” Mat gave Cass a quick peck on her cheek, leaving her with just one question. Mat owned vases? He slid back into the passenger’s seat shortly after, clicking his seatbelt in and connecting his phone to the speakers. 
Cass rolled her eyes. “I don’t know a single guy your age who’s not obsessed with John Mayer. It’s kind of weird, honestly.”
“You don’t like him?” Mat asked curiously. Cass was usually into more guitar-based, acoustic stuff, so he figured she’d be into at least some of his stuff. 
“Some of it,” Cass responded, pulling out of the lot and onto the street. “Go ahead and play it, I don’t mind at all. Not what I’d usually put on if I’m alone, that’s all.”
Mat nodded, looking absentmindedly out the window. “So, what should I know about your grandparents?”
Cass’ face immediately burst into a smile at their mention. It was always so clear how much she loved her family, and that was one of Mat’s favorite things about her. How hard she loved. “Alright, so it’s Dolores and Roberto Cabrera. They’re wonderful people, I genuinely think you’re going to like them a lot. They’re both super fluent in English, so don’t worry about communication. They originally immigrated to Texas when they were in their teens, abuela was a housekeeper at a few hotels in San Antonio and abuelo worked in the fields for awhile before getting a job at a little hardware store in town, where he worked until they retired. My mom’s the middle of four, two older sisters and a younger brother.”Mat listened intently. “My abuelo’s a little more rough around the edges, so don’t be surprised if he gives you  a little bit of a hard time, but it’s not out of malice or anything. He’s always been very protective over us, my mom and her siblings, and now us three. He might do the whole ‘nobody’s good enough for my Cassidy” thing, but he’ll get over it. He means well.” 
She glanced over at Mat, who was looking decidedly nervous. “Seriously, chou, it’s going to be fine. Abuela’s totally different, they’re like polar opposites. I can almost guarantee that she’ll say something to the effect of ‘if my granddaughter loves you, I love you.’ Very much go with the flow, she’ll probably want to come over to your apartment and cook for you.” Her expression softened. “As long as you’re kind and respectful, they won’t have an issue with you, Mat. They’ll see that you treat me how I deserve to be treated and love me like I deserve to be loved.”
Cass pulled into the garage by the international arrivals terminal, cutting the gas and checking the time. “The flight was supposed to land at one, so they should be getting out of passport control by the time we get inside.” It was a little after one thirty, but if there was anything Cass knew, it was just how long customs could take at an airport as big as JFK. Even in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and even though her grandparents were travelling on their American passports and could use the citizen’s line, she had heard that it could take upwards of an hour or two to get through. 
The concourse was pretty bare apart from a few kiosks selling “I ❤️ NY” shirts and a surprisingly busy Noah’s Bagels, so Mat and Cass made themselves comfortable on one of the rows of plastic chairs lining the room. The arrivals screen had marked their flight from Mexico City as having landed nearly an hour prior, so it was little surprise when Cass popped up from the chair, straightening her shirt and walking over to a couple that he could only assume were her grandparents. Mat quickly followed, catching up to her just as she threw her arms around her grandma. “Abuela, te extrañé,” she said, the sound muffled by Dolores’ scarf. She pulled back, kissing her grandpa on the cheek before stepping over to Mat, one hand placed reassuringly on his back. “Abuela, abuelo, this is Mat, my boyfriend.”
Mat stuck his hand out, shaking theirs. “Mr. and Mrs. Cabrera, it’s so amazing to finally meet you. Cass speaks so highly of you, and she always talks about her summers in Hermosillo.” 
Dolores pulled Mat in, embracing him from the start just as Cass had expected. “Mat, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Cassidy has told us so much about you, it’s clear she loves you a great deal.”
Mat ducked his head and blushed. “I’m not sure if she can love me more than I love her, but I’m happy to be in such good company.” 
He took both of their suitcases as Cass gestured to the sliding doors. “I want to get back to the car before they charge me for another half hour,” she said. 
Mat slid the bags in the trunk of the car as Dolores got in the passenger’s seat. With a gulp, Mat realized that meant he had to sit next to Roberto. He had been perfectly nice on the walk over, but as Cass had warned him, it was clear that he was a little guarded. Whether that was just his personality or whether Mat had yet to earn his trust hadn’t been determined. 
Her grandparents had been to New York once or twice before, but it had almost always been just to fly in before driving up to visit Cass’ family in Connecticut; they had never really been able to see the city. Cass  felt strongly that that had to change, so she had arranged for a mini-tour of Manhattan before they got dropped off at their hotel for the night. “So, Mat,” Dolores said, turning around in her chair, “Cassidy tells us you’re a hockey player? That must be so exciting, how long have you been playing?”
Mat nodded. “Yes ma’am. I play for the Islanders, so we’re right here in Brooklyn, but I live over in Manhattan. I’ve been playing the sport since I was four or so? Really little. But I just finished my fourth season on the Islanders. And it is exciting, I love being with my team and being on the ice, it’s one of the best feelings in the world.” 
“That must keep you busy, though?” Roberto asked gruffly. 
Mat froze. He couldn’t lie and say that he was home all the time, able to be there for Cass as often as he’d like to, because he wasn’t. But if he let on just how often he was gone, would that make him even more wary? “Oftentimes, yes,” Mat began slowly. “The team’s usually on two or so road trips a month, they’re usually about a week long. But they’re balanced out with plenty of home games, and there’s lots of guys who balance the job with a family and other responsibilities. I’m always excited to be able to be back in New York, I love it here. And to be with Cass.” Roberto nodded, not seemingly totally satisfied but content enough to not push the issue further. 
“He’s really good about spending time with me, abuelo, even though we’ve both got busy schedules,” Cass added, catching Roberto’s eye in the rearview mirror. “We meet in the morning before a class to get coffee, or lunch in between studying if I’ve got time. I go to every game I’m able to when he’s playing here in the city, or over in Jersey. We spend plenty of time together, he doesn’t blow me off. You don’t have to worry.” He seemed much more at ease with his granddaughter’s response. 
It was a whirlwind three hours around New York, Cass playing chauffeur as they went to the top of the Empire State Building — her pick — in St. Patrick’s Cathedral  — her grandpa’s pick — and around Central Park, stopping at one of the many pretzel carts for a snack. They dropped them off at the hotel, Cass’ eyes getting misty as her grandma pulled out the serape stole from her purse. Her fingers danced over the colors, the stripes of red and blue and pink and green, and knowing that it was made by the hands of someone so important to her made it all the more beautiful. The rest of her family was driving in later that night, after Nick got out of school, so everyone wouldn’t be together until the graduation ceremony the next day. 
The couple decided to get takeout on the way back to Mat’s apartment, Mat jumping out of the car to run in and pick up the order while Cass circled the block until he was out. As they sat on the couch, cuddled into each other as they broke into the boxes of Chinese food, Cass thought absentmindedly that Mat handled his chopsticks way better than she ever would have given him credit for. Her grandparents had been on her mind. More specifically, her grandparents and Mat had been on her mind. It wasn’t that she thought he had messed up in any way — she was positive he’d absolutely won over her grandma and her grandpa was slowly but surely coming around — but some lingering concerns about what they might think about their relationship. “I’m not sure that they’d actually care, but when you talk to them tomorrow maybe don’t mention how often I sleep over here? They’re wonderful people, but they’re a little old school about this stuff.” 
“This stuff?” Mat asked curiously. 
“Living together, sex before marriage, that kind of stuff.” 
“And how do you feel about it?” 
Cass raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you think you could ever get me to do something I didn’t want to do? I’m way too stubborn for that.” Mat threw his head back, laughing. “But seriously. I don’t make the decision lightly, because commitment and intimacy in that way is something really big and important to me. You already knew that I don’t do hookups, it’s just not my thing. But I can see this, us, going places. I want us to go places. And I’ve never been very good at listening to people when I don’t want to. So I’ve made my peace that my choices might not be ones everyone would be thrilled with, but it doesn’t really matter to me as long as I have you.” 
Mat nodded, putting down his food to card one hand through her curls. “I get that, I do. Obviously that’s not so much the attitude with a lot of the boys, but your principles are part of what makes you who you are, and I love who you are. Every part of you.” Cass smiled against his neck, leaning down and kissing him on the shoulder. “I want us to go places too, I hope you know that.”
“Glad to hear.”
They ate without speaking for a few more minutes until Mat broke the silence. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” 
“With you,” Cass answered honestly. “Here, or we could get a nice brownstone over in Brooklyn.” 
“Somewhere with a yard,” Mat mused. 
“Yeah, a yard would be nice,” Cass agreed. “I’d like to get a dog, I’ve always grown up with dogs and it would be nice to have someone to keep me company when you’re gone.” Her family’s two dogs, Patches and Scout, were back at the house in Connecticut, and on more than one occasion, Cass had made the two-hour drive up just to see them. She paused, glancing down at her hands. “In five years? You’d better have put a ring on my finger by then, Mat. I’ll be almost thirty. Approaching old maid status” 
Mat laughed, an easy, breathy sort of laugh that somehow erased all of the tension in the room. “I think you should double-hyphen.” 
Cass looked at him doubtfully. “Cabrera-Shaw-Barzal? Yeah, I’m going to have to pass on that one.” 
He shrugged, the corner of his lip pulled up in a half-smile. “Just saying. It’s got a ring to it.”
“Have you given much thought to what you’d want to do with your name when you get married?” Mat asked curiously. It really didn’t matter much to him, since it would ultimately be Cass’ decision, but he didn’t want to assume anything regardless. And it didn’t escape Cass that he said when, as if it was certain, as if it was a given. The surety made her heart flutter. 
Cass shook her head. “Not particularly. On one hand, I do like the idea of the whole family having the same name. It seems nice. Unified. But I don’t want to feel like I’m erasing my culture and who I am just because I’m getting married. And all due respect, chou,” Cass poked Mat’s cheek, “but Cabrera Shaw’s the name on my degrees. Cassidy Barzal didn’t go to law school.”
“Very fair,” Mat said with a chuckle. 
Cass took a deep breath. If it seemed like they were having the “future talk,” she figured it was best to go all in. “Do you want kids?” she asked, tentatively, hesitantly. It was obvious that Mat was good with kids, she’d seen as much, but being good with kids and wanting children of your own were two very different things. Cass had wanted to be a mom since she knew what a mom was, and even though they probably should have brought up the topic earlier, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he said no. Thank God, she never had to find out. 
“Definitely,” Mat said, nodding. “Not now, obviously, we’re young and haven’t really settled down yet. If you got pregnant we’d make it work, but I don’t think either of us is looking to be parents right away. But in a couple years, once we’re married and have a proper house with space...Yeah, I’d like to have kids.” He looked over at Cass. “What about you?”
“Always wanted kids,” Cass responded fondly. “I loved growing up with siblings, and I know my parents were the same way. Two or three, I think. I’ve thought about adoption too, but obviously that’s way in the future.”
Mat kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got time.”
 May 22 (sat)
 The graduation ceremony itself wasn’t until noon, so Cass had more than enough time to get ready after waking up at 7. Alicia barrelled into her room at exactly 7:22, throwing a shirt at her and telling her to get dressed. Cass stumbled out of the room ten minutes later, pulling on socks and grabbing her phone from the charger by her door. “What are you guys trying to pull?” she asked, yawning and trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. 
“Uh, we’re going to the diner, duh,” Stella said with a smile, tossing Cass her purse. “Come on! You know it fills up early on weekends.” Glen’s Diner had become an apartment staple over the past few years, the restaurant having been the first place the four of them had eaten in the city when they moved, not having bought groceries yet and not wanting to pay the premium for delivery. It was cheap, open 24/7, and Cass would swear up and down that their blueberry pancakes were the best she’d ever had. 
They were seated just after 8, happily slurping coffee and stealing bites of each other’s breakfast twenty minutes later. It was a nice day and hadn’t gotten too hot yet, so they decided to walk back after finishing the meal. In reality, “going back” meant Alicia stopping to buy a new necklace, listening to a busker for a few minutes, and petting no fewer than five dogs on the one-mile walk. There was still plenty of time before they had to leave for the ceremony, but after Cass did her makeup and tamed her curls, there was just enough time to watch an episode of Parks & Rec before having to actually get her stuff together. Not as flexible as she once had been, Ryanne helped zip up the back of her dress, a white lace bodycon from her sorority days that she had definitely worn to at least two semiformals. Hey, Cass thought as she straightened her hemline, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 
She had ironed her robe and put it into a dress bag the night before, and gently folded her school stole and the serape from her abuela into her purse. Mat’s necklace hadn’t left its place since Valentine’s. Her dad’s parents had given her a beautiful pair of pearl studs for her undergraduate graduation, and it felt only right to wear them for her next step. She fastened the ankle straps on her heels, and popped her head out to the living room. “Everyone ready?” She was met with a chorus of “yeses,” and grabbed her keys from their dish by the front door. 
“Let’s go get our girl graduated!” Alicia hollered into the street. 
The girls had originally objected to Cass driving herself to her own graduation, but relented as soon as Cass reminded them that she was the only one who knew where to find the free parking, and the rest of them only drove sedans. “Cheryl has way more room. Y’all want to be cramped on purpose?” 
“Fair point,” Stella had said begrudgingly. 
Exactly twenty-six minutes later, Cass pulled into a spot about two blocks away from the arena where she would be graduating in an hour’s time, hugging each of her friends as Ryanne handed her the dress bag. “You’re going to kill it in there,” she said, rubbing her back. 
Cass laughed. “Ry, all I’ve got to do is walk across a stage without tripping.”
She shrugged. “It’s a fine art that few have mastered.” 
Cass entered through the side, flashing her ID to the security guard standing by the door. Half an hour later, everyone had been ushered into their seats, carefully arranged in alphabetical order. For the most part, Cass was friendly with everyone in her class; if they weren’t outwardly hostile to her, she saw no reason why they deserved anything other than kindness, but was relieved to see Robin sitting next to her. “You excited?” Robin asked, brushing a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. The lobby doors must have opened, because as she asked, crowds started to mill into the seats, waving at anyone who would catch their eye. 
Cass bounced her head. “I am, but it’s kind of surreal, you know? I knew we’d get to this point, obviously. It’s what we’ve been working towards for seven years, really. But the idea that it all essentially comes down to this…”
“An hour, a few handshakes, and a piece of paper,” Robin helpfully supplied. 
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s almost anticlimactic in a way? Like sure, we’ve got our JDs after this, but knowing we’ve still got to pass the bar. We’re not over the finish line yet.”
“Columbia has a 97% pass rate, and you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Cass. And I’ve spent three years surrounded by the smartest people I’ve ever met.”
“Fair,” Cass said, “it’s just kind of a weird feeling, you know?” Robin nodded. “And plus, for most of us, we’ve pretty much spent our whole lives in school. Aside from positions as summer associates, or part-time jobs and internships, we don’t really know how to do anything other than school. It’s just a little bit of a daunting thought to suddenly feel like we’re being thrown out to the wolves without really knowing what to expect.” Cass’ phone, which she wasn’t technically supposed to have but had snuck in anyways, chose that moment to buzz with a text notification. It was from Mat.
Met up with the crew! Can’t wait to see you walk across that stage, Cass. I love you and we’re all so proud of you. Mat had attached a photo of everyone she had brought with her — both sets of grandparents, her parents and siblings, and roommates. 
“Your boyfriend is nauseatingly cute,” Robin observed, looking over her shoulder at the message. 
Cass laughed. “That’s true, but I knew what I was getting myself into.” The music started ten minutes later, and the ceremony began. If Cass was being honest, she didn’t really remember much of anything from the first half of the ceremony, before the conferral of diplomas. She was so excited and nervous and unbelievably ready all at the same time that all she recalled from the dean’s speech and the student speeches were vague comments about their “awesome responsibility” and “duty to pursue truth and justice” and “commitment to fight for what is right over what is easy.” 
As soon as she realized it, her row was being ushered into line to receive their diplomas. “Cassidy María Cabrera Shaw.” She heard her name, but really had no clue who had spoken it. The dean? One of her professors? As Cass walked up the steps and across the stage, the only thing she could think was don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip. Then she was handed a diploma, flashed a brilliant smile for the photographer, and shook hand after hand after hand before walking off the other side of the stage. She was pretty sure she could hear Mat and Noah yelling their congratulations from her seat on the floor. 
Having a name towards the front of the alphabet meant that Cass was almost always called on quickly in class, or on roll call, or at graduation, as the case was. But that meant that she had to sit, quietly and politely, for the other four hundred names to be called. And it took awhile. After Robin Cahill came Wesley Coleman, then Samuel Cogswell, then Fiona Chan. Cass didn’t mind having to sit through the whole thing, especially when Fiona, Les, Samaira, and her other friends crossed the stage — she cheered as much as anybody — but it was a long time to be sitting in a folding chair and the thousands of people packed into a small space didn’t help her temperature regulation. 
There was the benediction and congratulations, and then the recessional of the graduates. Graduates, Cass thought. She was a graduate. She had finished, she was done, she had accomplished the one thing she wanted most to do since she was a little girl watching Legally Blonde for the first time, looking at Elle Woods and thinking I can do that. And she had. Her feet carried her to the back room of their own accord, where she picked up her bag and was engulfed in a flurry of hugs, congratulations, and kisses on the cheek from her friends, the people who she had spent countless late nights in the library with, bar hopping to celebrate the end of finals, and afternoons on each other’s apartment couches, yelling fact patterns at each other and trying to come up with an analysis before the timer went off.  
Following the stream of sky blue graduation gowns, Cass walked outside, waving at her family when she spotted Eliana hanging off of a lamppost in the courtyard to get a better view. Her sister nearly tackled her as she made her way to the group. “Cass. I already knew you were brilliant, and I still think  you’re the smartest out of any of us,” she gestured between the two of them and Noah, “but now you’ve got the degree to prove it. I’m so proud of you.” 
Noah was next. “You worked hard, and I know how badly you wanted this. You’re a really good sister.” He wasn’t usually a big talker, and Cass’ eyes definitely got a little misty as he spoke. He had verbally committed to Minnesota State the week before, and Mat might have been more excited than even Cass when he heard the news. It was an incredible program that had a serious track record of sending players to the NHL, and she was so proud to see her little brother doing what he loved. Her mom and both grandmas were crying, as expected, and Grandpa Joe wrapped her up in a hug as soon as he got the chance. 
Mat had been hanging towards the back of the crowd, not wanting to feel like he was intruding on family time, until her dad nudged him forward. “Go say hi to your girl, Mat,” Patrick said.
“Will do,” Mat said, squeezing Cass’ hand and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Sometimes it blows my mind how incredible you are,” he said. “Everyone’s already said how smart you are, and every bit of that is true. But you’re so much more than that, you know?” His thumb rubbed over her hand. “You’re beautiful, and curious, and you always keep me on my toes. You’re so passionate about your work, and you’ve got the biggest heart out of anyone I know. You’ve never met a person you didn’t want to help. And I promise I’m not biased just because I’m in love with you.” 
Cass gave a watery laugh, blinking and thanking God she had the foresight to wear waterproof mascara. “God, I love you, Mat.”
Her dad had always been the picture type, insisting on documenting every waking moment. He was the living embodiment of “pics or it didn’t happen,” for better or worse. He took a few of her with her law school friends, then Alicia snapped one with just her immediate family, then there was one with everyone. Cass also got a picture with Mat, where he was bending down to kiss her, the tassel on her mortarboard just barely brushing his nose. Then she was in one with all of the seniors on the law review, and a friend pulled her away for a few with the Latinx Student Association. By the time they finally managed to tear Patrick away from his camera, it was time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. 
Mat got Patrick to send him the photo of him and Cass, and was about to post it on Instagram when he hesitated. “Hey, is it cool if I post this?” Mat said, showing Cass his phone. Most people knew who she was, and he had posted pictures of her before, but they had never been this obvious, this clear, this real. 
“Go for it.”
Mat pressed post. So, so proud of my incredible girlfriend @casscshaw for graduating law school. You’re one of the smartest, most empathetic people I know, and you’re going to make an amazing lawyer. 
Cass grinned, a big, genuine smile as she was surrounded by her family, the people who meant the most to her — whether they were related or not. She looked up at Mat, who was smiling softly down at her as he reached one hand up to fix her tassel. “What’s next?”
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letterboxd · 3 years
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Truffle Hunter.
As Pig snuffles its way up Letterboxd’s best of 2021 ranks, Mitchell Beaupre hunts down writer-director Michael Sarnoski for a chat about some of the finer creative points of his Nicolas Cage-starring meditation on cookery and grief.
In a time when audiences know too many specific plot details of films months before they’re even released, the idea of a surprise sensation feels like a fleeting memory. Yet that’s exactly how one could describe Pig, the debut feature from director Michael Sarnoski. With minimal pre-release buzz and no flashy festival premiere, Pig is a film whose status has been created through sheer quality alone.
This is a true word-of-mouth smash, hailed by critics as one of the best films of the year, as well as quickly earning itself a high placement on our Top 50 of 2021. Jacob Knight praises the film as “an existential rumination regarding how people find meaning in a mostly meaningless world”, while Muriel declares it “the most unexpectedly wholesome movie I’ve seen in forever”. Not bad for a first feature.
Written by Sarnoski, from a story he developed with co-producer Vanessa Block, Pig opens on Rob (Nicolas Cage), a loner isolated in the woods with his truffle pig. Rob makes his living selling truffles to the eager and ambitious Amir (Alex Wolff), but when two people break into Rob’s home and steal his animal companion, he must do whatever it takes to be reunited with his only friend.
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A rough day deserves a decent vin rouge.
While that setup led many to give Sarnoski’s film the moniker “John Wick with a pig” when the trailer dropped, the story ends up charting a course away from genre thrills and towards something else entirely. Pig is an exploration of grief, loneliness and compassion, featuring one of the finest performances of Nicolas Cage’s illustrious career.
Raised in Milwaukee, Sarnoski and co-producer Block met in college before working together on the documentary short The Testimony, which focused on the largest rape tribunal in the history of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. That film made it onto the shortlist for the 2016 Oscars, putting the two of them on a path that would lead to their breakthrough opportunity with Pig.
Sarnoski spoke with us about the origins of Pig, the long-term impacts of loss in his own life, the joy of hand-cranked pasta and Bruce Springsteen.
Congratulations on the film! How has it felt seeing this outpouring of love coming for your first feature? Michael Sarnoski: It’s been amazing. Everyone who made this movie felt for themselves that it was special, and we all put a lot of care into it. We also knew that it was a risk, a strange film we figured would hit right for some people, but then plenty of others would think it was boring and weird. We’ve been very pleasantly surprised that it’s a small minority of people who feel that way.
What was the seed of the story that would eventually sprout to become Pig? I had this image in my head of an old man in the woods with his truffle pig. There was something sweet and tragic about that. Then I began asking questions about who this guy is and why he’s out there alone in the woods. What’s his backstory? It all evolved from there.
While the first act inhabits that “John Wick with a pig” space that people were perhaps expecting from the trailer, the story then takes a swerve and becomes a somber, thoughtful character study. Could you speak about navigating that unique arc with your storytelling? We never set out to try and subvert that John Wick sort of genre. We knew that we were playing with that lone-cowboy idea of a film and some of those tropes, but we never wanted to poke fun at that or switch people’s expectations in some sense by choosing Nic to star. We never wanted to “surprise” people by making a quiet Nic Cage movie. It was always just about these characters, what this story is, what we’re trying to explore. I think if we had tried to be subversive it would have come off as hokey.
Silence plays a key part in the film, as so much is being said in those spaces between the dialogue and action. How did you want to utilize the impact of saying more with silence? From early on, we always knew it was going to be a very silent film, and that followed all the way through the edit. Some of us wanted that opening to start out the way it’s done in the movie, where it’s totally silent and the music only comes in at the very end, while others were worried that people would get bored with it. The argument against that was that if they’re going to get bored with that, then they’re going to get bored with the rest of the movie. So, we might as well just lean into it, and let them know what it’s going to be.
From there we gauged how we wanted to approach the silence throughout. There’s some beautiful music in the film that Alexis Grapsas and Philip Klein did an incredible job with that allowed us to bring this beauty and splendor into the scenes. But there were also a lot of really quiet moments where we wanted the audience to be focused on the faces of the characters, and really be feeling the space and letting the sounds of the forest, or wherever we were, come across.
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Nicolas Cage, his knife skills, and cinematographer Patrick Scola.
Along with the faces, you focus a lot on hands in the film. Whether it’s in scenes of violence or making food, there’s a real emphasis on what hands are capable of. Where did the inspiration for that come from? Nic was very into the idea of conveying artistry through your hands. He spent a lot of time with local chefs to try and get the vibe of how they moved and how they worked. He was always practicing knife skills in his room. I was constantly waiting for the AD to come up and tell me that we can’t use Nic today because he cut off a finger, but thankfully that never happened. Nic really sold that emphasis on the hands. Those shots could have felt empty if it wasn’t for him. I still am surprised watching some of the little hand choices he made.
I remember there was one shot where we didn’t get it on the day. So, we set it up with his stand-in, and just had him wearing his gloves. We all watched it, and it just wasn’t the same. Nic agreed, and so we reset the entire thing just to get that one shot with his hands in there instead. It was totally worth it. He’s an incredible actor, and it comes through every part of him.
Cage is an actor with an almost otherworldly mythos about him, which allows people to sometimes forget what a tremendous performer he’s always been. What was your experience in building a relationship with him, not just as an actor, but also as a human being? I only have positive things to say. That’s not just a gimmick. From the moment he read the script, he was interested, and he really responded to the character. He was committed to bringing the script to life, and was extremely respectful towards everyone on set. He had no reason to respect me. I’m a first-time director. He could have been a total diva. He could have been whatever he wanted to be, and we still would have paid him and been happy with his performance.
He was very kind, and maybe some of this came from the character, but he was also kind of somber and quiet in general on set. At the same time, he can also be very playful and sweet, even though he was trying to remain in the mood of the character. He set the tone, in a way, for the whole crew. A crew could easily look at a first time director and decide to just slack off and scrape by, because I wouldn’t have even known the difference. The fact that Nic treated me and the material with such respect really trickled down, and was so valuable to the film.
We shot the whole thing in twenty days, so if there had been any weak link with someone not doing their job or not being totally on top of it, we would have been screwed. I credit a lot of that to Nic, and him treating this with an incredible amount of professionalism. I think that’s where a big part of his long career comes from. He’s an incredible actor, but he also takes the art form seriously, treating it as both an artist and as this being his job, knowing that you have to do both in order to get what you need across.
Do you have a favorite Nicolas Cage performance? Other than Pig, of course. There are so many incredible ones. I really love Moonstruck. I saw that a couple of years ago, right before we officially cast him, when I was going through some of his ones that I hadn’t seen. Part of it I think is because I’m half-Italian, and I felt like it was showing me a side of my life that I never realized because my Italian family is on the east coast, and we moved out to Wisconsin when I was very young. I never got to be a part of that kind of thick Italian family, and seeing that on screen gave me a taste of what that would have been like. I loved him in that role. He was the perfect balance of sincere and sentimental, and also over the top when he needed to be.
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Grub’s up.
Speaking of being Italian, Pig gets deep into the transformative power of food, and of the right meal. Has food always been an important part of your life? Definitely. I’ve never worked in restaurants. The closest thing was when I worked at a snack bar at a summer camp, which was very fun and also kind of a nightmare in its own way. I think most of the importance of food for me came from when my grandma lived with us. It was after my dad passed away, when I was a little kid, and she became this sort of old Italian cook in the house who was using food as this language of love and also as a sort of control. It had a lot wrapped up in it, this sense that we’re going to have family dinners to prove that everything is fine.
I think any Italian family is that way, but especially in that situation, having that presence come into the house when I was a kid, it made food quite charged for me. It was both a form of bonding and love, but also that control. That was very important to me. As I got older she taught me how to cook some things, and I became interested in that. I had a lot of friends who were great cooks and taught me how to do different things. I’m not an amazing cook, but I love cooking.
I love that act of making something that’s about to disappear. I think if you can be okay with that, and put a lot of time and care into that, it’s kind of a therapeutic thing to do. Accepting transience is a big part of cooking.
What’s your favorite dish to cook? I would say over the pandemic I really got into making lasagne. I had my grandma’s old hand-crank pasta maker, so I was enjoying making my own pasta and lasagne with that. I don’t know if I could pick one favorite dish, but that is definitely one that contributed quite a bit to putting on the Covid pounds.
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Rob (Cage) and Amir (Alex Wolff) discuss their business relationship.
There’s a scene in the film where Rob and Amir go to a restaurant and Rob has a conversation with the chef there, who used to work for him, about the idea of losing our sense of identity when we give up on our dreams in order to fill this role that society expects of us. Is that something that you personally connected with? Yeah, people ask me a lot about what I think of the high-end cuisine world, and I have to say that I wasn’t trying to solely express that this world is garbage and phony. I was looking at it as another kind of art form. Any time you have an art form that combines someone’s personal passion with some sort of economy there are going to be conflicts to navigate. Whether you’re a painter, director, writer, whatever, those are going to be things you have to juggle. How true to yourself are you going to stay?
For myself, I’ve definitely found that when I try to focus on doing something that I care about, that’s kind of all I have control over and that’s what I should focus on. Pig was that for me. This isn’t the kind of script that you write where you’re expecting a big payday. It’s this weird movie that for some reason really means something to me.
The scene climaxes with Rob saying the line, “We don’t get a lot of things to really care about”. What about this movie exemplifies the things that you really care about in your life? It’s so many things, and even more things came from going through the process of actually making it and falling in love with Portland. It’s become even more than what it was initially intended to be. I mentioned earlier that my dad passed away when I was a kid, and the most personal aspect of the film for me was exploring that idea of what grief does to us long-term.
As I’ve gotten older I’ve been watching how my family members changed the way they interact with the world and built their perception of the world around some aspect of grief. It’s not those immediate effects of shock or sadness. It’s how those things ingrain into your worldview. I became much more conscious of how I was doing that in my own life. That was the deepest, most general thing that I was bringing to it, and that I was exploring personally through the film.
As far as specific things that I care about, I think I have all the classic things. I care about my family, and my friends. I care about the world, which is why this year has been so devastating. I don’t have one single pig. I think we all have a few different pigs in our lives.
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Director Michael Sarnoski on the set of ‘Pig’.
Another scene that really stands out is the one in which Rob returns to his old home and sits with this young boy, having a conversation about a persimmon tree that used to be there. Talk to me about the significance of that moment for Rob. One of the things I love about that scene is that it seems so simple, kind of quiet and basic, but it’s getting into a lot of different things. I will say one thing about that scene. That was the first scene that we shot on the first day of filming. That kid was great, but filming with a child on your first day of your first feature was very much a moment of wondering what I had gotten myself into.
That scene does a few things. I won’t get into spoiler territory, but for starters he’s going back to his old house, so it’s his first attempt to really look at his past in the face, and to acknowledge that. I like that in that moment this is also one of the first times that we hear him speak romantically of food, because those things are very tethered to each other.
We get both the sense that there was a past, a personal path that he left behind, but intricately involved in that was how he interacted with food and his art. It’s the first time that we hear him acknowledge who he was in a way that’s okay. He tells the kid his name, and he’s acknowledging his identity that he’s been trying to hide from or ignore. Through doing that, it’s engaging with his passions and how that tethers everything together. I also thought it was cute explaining what persimmons were to a little kid.
I’ve got to ask you about the use of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘I’m On Fire’ in a very meaningful moment. What made that the perfect song choice for that scene? Obviously, who’s singing it is very meaningful. I liked that song, though, because it’s different from the sappy direction we could have gone with that moment. There’s something very passionate about ‘I’m On Fire’, of course, and it’s a pretty sexual song. It’s really charged, but it also has this kind of ethereal quality to it that’s seductive in a non-sexual way. It washes over you, and it feels very mystical. This sounds so “film talk”-y, but I liked that meeting of that transcendent, abstract feeling with that immediate sense of passion and love and obsession.
Finally, what’s the film that made you want to become a filmmaker? Probably Sam Raimi, his first Spider-Man movie. That was the first time I realized what directors do. I had a very strong association with Spider-Man growing up as a comic-book fan, and I was seeing how someone was filtering their own understanding of this character. Raimi coming from his horror background and being into the nitty gritty filmmaking with practical effects and everything, I got this understanding of how a director touches a film and shapes it.
Related content
Steve’s list of pigs in film
Melissa’s list of films featuring food, chefs, bakers, restaurants, cooking, hospitality, hotels, wineries, grocers
Rachel West discovers Nicolas Cage is her most-watched actor of all time
Letterboxd’s Official Top 50 of 2021—Jack Moulton’s list
Follow Mitchell on Letterboxd
‘Pig’ is currently in US cinemas via NEON, and available to buy/rent on digital.
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sxngshine · 4 years
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If Tomorrow Comes
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• Chan x reader x Minho
• Genre: FLUFF, BIT OF CRACK, ANGSTTT
• Word Count: 1.56k
• Love triangle au, college au, Enemies to lovers(kind of) au
• Summary: you were a temperamental girl who lived a hard life ever since your dad died. Your grandma and mom always fought and it always brought troubles to your already broken family. But after meeting a man who came all the way from another country, you knew your life wasn't going to be the same. But don't judge a book by its cover, otherwise you'll never know the full story.
Chapters: I , II
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
♡Y/n's POV♡
"Ma! Why'd you have to invite him!?" You whined.
"Yah! What was the reason for inviting him huh?" Your grandma backed you up.
"I didn't want to! He invited himself! How could I just say no?" Your mom exclaimed.
You let out a huff. "Fine, I'm also inviting Nari and Minho then." You pulled out your phone.
"Minho?" Your grandma asked. "He's my friend," you replied while dialing his number. "From Busan"
"Aish Busan..." your grandma scoffed. "Those boys from Busan love causing trouble all the time."
You rolled your eyes and heard a voice say hello.
"Hey Minho, you wanna come over for dinner tonight?" You asked.
"Sorry I cant Y/N, I'm kinda busy, remember Mina? She invited me over," he said. You let out a huff.
Mina was this new student the business class which you and Minho were in. They instantly hit it off after meeting.
"You'd choose her over your best friend?" You asked, pouting.
"I'm sorry Y/N, maybe next time. Tell me about it tomorrow though! I have to go now, cya!" And with that he hung up. Now your only hope was Nari.
You dialed her number and almost threw it away when you heard a loud squeal. "Y/N OH MY GOD I'M SO EXCITED." she yelled.
"For what?" You asked, rubbing your ringing ear.
"I'M GOING ON A BLIND DATE," she squealed and you groaned.
"Can you skip this one for me please? I need you to come to my house for dinner," you said, hoping she'd agree.
"No can do sorry, this date is important to me. Chae unnie even helped me get ready! Super rare occasion" She said. "Oops! He's here now, gotta run Y/N byeeee" and with that she hung up on you.
You groaned and tossed your phone onto the couch before plopping onto it yourself.
"Y/N! Can you please run to the grocery store?! We need some things!" Your mom called out from the kitchen.
You groaned for the nth time today and yelled back an okay, going upstairs to fix your rat looking self up before leaving.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You lugged two large paper bags filled with groceries into your house.
"I'm home mom!" You yelled.
"Finally! Took you long enough," a voice yelled from the kitchen.
"I'm sorry but you asked for so many things-" you paused, wait a second. Who's voice is that? Cause your mom definitely didn't sound like a man.
You walked into the kitchen only to see Chan standing in front of the stove with an apron on. "What're you doing?" You asked with furrowed brows.
"I'm cooking what else." He said and took the groceries from you. You turned to your mom and she just shrugged. "He just came in and asked if he could cook. I let him cause it looked like he really wanted to " she said before continuing to work on a different dish.
You just rolled your eyes and walked upstairs to your room, greeting your little sister along the way and Chan's mom who was in the living room.
Eventually Chan hollered from the dining room, saying that dinner was ready. You and your sister walked downstairs and were hit by an array of different smells.
There were lots of different foods sitting in the table, you saw tteokbokki, bulgogi, kimbap, stir fried noodles and kimchee, rice and so many other foods. 'Did Chan cook all of this???' You thought to yourself as you sat down beside your grandma.
Chan sat in front of you and your little sister sat beside him. Throughout all of dinner everyone had been chatting about everything and anything. You were actually having quite a good time. But then your grandma started nagging about how you weren't eating enough food and about every other little thing which started to annoy you.
Chan and Yuna were messing around when she looked at the two of you. Chan noticed she was less playful and then looked at you guys as well. He didn't miss the look of hurt that flashed across little Yuna's face.
"What's wrong princess," Chan asked the little girl.
"I want grandma to love me like that as well," Yuna sulked.
"Hey its okay princess, she may not show it directly, but she does love you. I bet she loves you a lot!" Chan said in attempts to cheer her up, which he did successfully.
Later on everyone was in the living room chatting away once again over tea while you were working on a project for your business class. Yuna was playing with her dolls and the 3 women were talking so Chan had nothing to do other than annoy you.
"Whatcha doing?" He asked, sitting down beside you and curiously looking at your laptop.
"Project" you merely said without even sparing him a glance, already annoyed by his presence.
"Oh Y/N, could you please throw out the trash?" Your mom asked you. You simply nodded and moved your things aside to go grab the trash.
You walked outside to the big garbage cans you had and threw the bags inside, taking a moment to get some fresh air before going back into your house.
What you didn't expect though, was for everything to turn pitch black all of the sudden and then turn back on. Your eyes widened and you ran into your house to your laptop which was now showing a black screen.
"No no no no no no- please still be there please still be there" you muttered you yourself as you tried to open the file with your project. When you did, nothing you worked on was saved.
"NO! STUPID POWER OUT" You screamed in frustration. "What happened?" Chan asked you. You just glared at him and rushed outside to your porch and sat on the bench, not wanting to deal with him.
But of course Chan followed you outside. "What's your problem? I just asked what happened," Chan asked, irritated that you just walked out on him when he simply asked you a question.
"What's my problem? What's YOUR problem? Cant you just leave me the fuck alone?? Like why're you so nosy? First you come out of nowhere and spill my drink all over me, then you barge into my house lie you fucking own the place and then you-" you rant but were cut off by Chan placing a finger against your lips.
"You know what your problem is? You're always looking in the down side to everything. You're always grumpy and have an attitude towards everything. I haven't done anything bad to you, I simply asked you what happened out of concern and you start yelling about how annoying I am. Come on glasses, like I dont think I've even seen you smile even once yet. Not even once!" Chan exclaims.
"You really should work on yourself glasses, live life to the fullest and stop moping around as if everything's been put onto your shoulders. Have fun while you still can... you never know if tomorrow's gonna come." He added with a bitter smile
You let out a huff and open your mouth to say something but Chan beats you to it.
"You know what, I'm gonna help you change that attitude into something more positive!" He said, snapping his fingers like it was the greatest idea he's had yet. "First, you need to learn to smile. Watch me," he then proceeded to point at the corners of his mouth and smiled.
"Now you try" he says. You go to say something once again but he stops you right away. "Here let me help you," he places his fingers against the sides of your mouth and pushes them up, making you look odd with your furrowed brows and awkward clown smile.
You push his hands off and scoff. "I've smile plenty of times!"
"Name one time you genuinely smiled," Chan deadpanned.
You thought for a moment, opened your mouth and then closed it again, and then opened it again but ended up closing it.
Chan took your lack of answer as your answer. "Exactly," he said with a smug smile, crossing his arms.
"Whatever..." you muttered and looked anywhere but at him.
"Work on that and then we can start the next step of changing that attitude Glasses." He said while standing up. "Oh and by the way, I'll help you out with your project so you can finish faster. Come over to my place at 3pm- actually make it 4pm, I have something to do before that."
You looked up at him with surprised eyes and he gave you a cute smile that showed his dimples. You don't know what came over you but you couldn't help but blush slightly. You were definitely gonna punch yourself for this later.
You looked down and nodded, feeling shy all of the sudden. Chan just laughed before sending you a small salute and bidding you goodbye before walking off to his house.
You watched him leave, his back growing smaller until he was inside his house and out of sight.
"Why the hell was I blushing!?!??!" You whisper yelled to yourself while slapping your cheeks.
You took a deep breath and stood up after a moment, walking back into your house. Chan was doing something to you. But you were determined to not let him get to you.
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srhlsx · 4 years
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CHAPTER 7
master | ch. 6 | ch. 8
During a break between your classes you had made your way to your locker to check your phone. Your parents were on a business trip - again - this time in Kyoto so you wanted to see if you had heard from them. You had asked your mom to message you when they arrived and got settled in, having left early this morning, but when you unlocked the phone screen you had nothing from her. You scrunch your lips together in a pout off to the side of your face, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as you felt a little bit of a sting come to your eyes.
You knew nothing was wrong with them because the message had been read not too long ago, she just didn’t respond. Your mother wasn’t cruel, she wasn’t blatantly ignoring you, they were just… busy.
Clenching your jaw slightly, you locked your phone again and tossed it carelessly back into your locker. When you closed it, you jumped a little in fright, standing barely a few inches away from you was a boy. You clutched the shirt of your uniform where your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, shutting your eyes as your gasped for breath. “Oh my God,” You huffed.
“Ah, sorry (y/n)!” The boy responded nervously, eyes going wide and extending his hands out to try and calm things. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”
As you caught your breath you answered him, “It’s okay, Touma, I just didn’t see you. How are you?”
“I’m good,” He said, shooting you a closed-eye smile as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. “How are you? You look really pretty today, well everyday, so I guess that’s nothing new-“
You watched the third-year boy as he continued to rant nervously, you should probably stop him because he was talking in circles. He shrugged his shoulders from under the white uniform jacket he was wearing, they were broad and looked athletic and you knew that was directly because of his many years playing baseball for your school. His light hair was cut short and close to his head, he had probably gotten it newly cut before school started. He was what people would consider averagely handsome, not beautifully so like Oikawa and not ruggedly so like Iwaiz-
Excuse you, what?
You shook the very random, very alarming thought from your head and focused back on what the boy in front of you was still talking about. “I’m sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?”
“No problem!” He smiled brightly, waving you off. “I was just asking if it was true.”
“Is what true?” You narrowed your eyes at him very slightly, not looking forward to what kind of rumor he was going to repeat for you. In your experience when people ask ‘is it true’, it was usually about something bad.
“You and Oikawa?” He asked, an almost hopeful look in his eyes as he looked at you. “I mean, I saw that picture on your profile but wasn’t really sure-”
“Yes.” You said, a clipped tone to your voice. “It’s new, -ish, but yes.”
“O-oh,” Touma visibly deflated, shifting slightly to take a small step back from you. “Yeah, I thought maybe it was a new thing. Nobody had really heard anything about it so-”
“Yep!” You interrupted, not wanting him to dig into a hole of trying to figure out just how and why you and Oikawa were together. You were sure that if anyone with half a brain thought about it hard enough and long enough, they would probably come to the true realization of what was going on. That it was fake. You wanted to distract him away from that. “It was kind of a whirlwind and even surprising for us to have it happen, but we are together now. I’ve really got to get going, Touma, good luck with baseball!”
You left the boy standing at your locker, a dejected look still on his face. You were sure he was probably one of those Oikawa had mentioned to you previously that were hoping to ask you out when the school year started. You had to give him credit, at least he came up and talked to you about it, rather than just speculating rumors and letting that dictate his emotions. When you looked back in his direction before going into your classroom, you saw a few of his teammates patting him on the shoulders, comforting him, probably telling him that there were other fish in the sea.
- - - - -
“What even is that? That’s not a language.”
You let out a short laugh as Oikawa attempted to peer over your shoulder at your open calculus textbook. He squinted hard at the numbers and symbols on the page, tilting his head like a confused puppy when he couldn’t quite make out the meaning. “That’s because it’s not a language, Tooru, it’s math.”
“That’s not math,” He shook his head, straightening up his posture and pointing down at the page. “That is witchcraft.”
“Dummykawa,” Iwaizumi mumbled from his place across the table from you.
The three of you had gathered at your home after school and practices. You and Iwaizumi had intended on getting in a good study session for an upcoming test in your college prep class, Oikawa was intent on making sure that didn’t happen. Your dog was also wandering around, switching between resting his head on your lap and scaring Oikawa with his slobbery huffs to get out of the way. It was amusing to see him skitter away from the massive dog. 
“Mean, Iwa.” Oikawa whined. “I’m so glad I’m not taking a math class like that. Cooking is so fun!”
“Maybe so,” You chripped. “But when you are sitting in your college math class next year-”
“Probably crying,” Iwaizumi added.
“Definitely crying,” You agreed, pointing your pen at him. “You are going to wish you hadn’t taken a cop-out class in your third year.”
“I’ll just get a cute girl to help me,” Oikawa smugly crossed his arms across his chest and turned his chin upwards. You spared a look at Iwaizumi and he only rolled his eyes and the childish antics of his friend. “When will you guys be done?”
“Not for a while,” You told him, gesturing to the expanse of papers spread out around you. Oikawa was fidgeting around, bouncing slightly on his feet as he looked at all the work that still needed to be done. “How about you take my boy on a walk?”
At the mention of the word, your dog stood up excitedly and let out a loud bark. He jumped and started to pace around the counter in your kitchen while whining. Oikawa watched with a twitch in his eye, unsure about going up against the massive mastiff in a battle of leash tugging. “I don’t know…”
“Oh he’d love it, Tooru!” You got up and grabbed the leather leash waiting by the back door, clipping it onto the collar and handing it over to Oikawa. “Just around the block a few times, then when you’re back we should be close to done and we can all eat! Thanks!”
You shut the sliding door behind Oikawa and your dog, the former yelling and calling out commands as he was pulled along mercilessly. You leaned back against the door and let your head fall backwards as you sighed, appreciating the silence that finally fell across your house. 
“I don’t know how you’ve done it for so long,” You laugh as you sit back down at the table with Iwaizumi with a huff.
“There are times where I feel like I can’t,” He laughed, a laugh without an eye roll - which impressed you. “But he’s loyal, always been there for me, makes me better, so I gotta stick with him.”
You smiled over at him although he was still looking at his book so he didn’t notice until the silence continued. He looked up and his eyes locked with yours. He was smiling, a genuine smile and you swore in that moment you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time - if ever. A prickling on your cheeks and a drop in your stomach made you quickly turn back to your studies out of fear of embarrassing yourself. 
What would you be embarrassed about? You thought, you were literally just smiling at the guy. 
Little did you know that that smile was much more to both you and him.
“Um,” You cleared your throat. “Do you think you’ll want to get together again to study? I have a feeling things aren’t going to get easier and I really am not going to have time to fall behind.”
“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded, still watching you. He noticed that you seemed a little flustered and he couldn’t help but hope it was because of him. Even if you were just Oikawa’s fake girlfriend, he knew he should probably (read: definitely) not be thinking that way. “Do you mind if we stick to meeting here or school? My place is… complicated.”
That caught your attention. You glanced at him without lifting your head, seeing his gaze space out and become unfocused. “Complicated like please don’t ask?” You asked, making him look at you while you continued to hunch over your studies. “Or complicated like I’m going to act like I don’t want you to ask but please ask me so I can finally spill my guts?”
Iwaizumi chuckled, “Who do you think I am? Oikawa? No, I just live with my grandma is all and if I bring a pretty girl over, even if I explain that she is just a friend, she is still going to have our wedding planned by the end of the night.”
“Aw, Iwa~” You laughed, settling your chin in your hand to coo teasingly at him. “I’m sure your grandmother would plan a lovely wedding for us!”
He rolled his eyes at your teasing, back to his annoyed self. But as you turned back to your work you almost slapped yourself at the thought that crossed your mind. He called you pretty.
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prongsmydeer · 3 years
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Ayesha Liveblogs Oh My Ghost (2018) Ep. 9-16
Part 2 of this post because tumblr would not let me save anymore either because of the numerous images I’m commenting on or because of how many times I use the word H*rny 
Kaopoon is frustrated bc Real Jiw is now vibing with her new BF Sun while she is sitting sadly on a swing set [Alexa play Sadness and Sorrow]
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Backtracking to the other kind of drama: Lieutenant Murder is finally going to murder someone on screen (specifically his fellow police officer) because Lieutenant Murder jumped him for getting too close to solving Nammoon's hit-and-run case, which is at this point obvious he committed)
I love when Sun and Jiw flirt through their apartment wall
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Jiw and Sun are dating now but the remaining point of contention is how much Horny Ghost just wants them to sleep together instead of getting to know each other to which Sun thinks “Jiw do u only want me for my body 😔?”
I can't believe that Lieutenant Murder's tragic backstory is that he was an orphan oh my god. Adoption is normal!! Murder is not!!
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Lieutenant Murder was possessed by an evil spirit????? (After the first time he tried to murder????) WHAT WHAT WHAT
Sous Chef Rain is yelling at the restaurant staff bc of forgetting his birthday, bc he is, truly, a perennial pain in the ass
They are all out for Rain's birthday except for Sun bc of his and Jiw (Kaopoon)'s sex fight and so he is very anxious about his girlfriend being out with The Guys without him
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Also Study-Abroad Win is handsome to the point of distraction AND nice  where is his romance? Where is the justice for the male models of the world
Sun's Mom does not know he is Dating and Housing his employee possessed by a Horny Ghost He Thinks is One Facet of Her Personality
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Presented without commentary:
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Win has been politely pretending not to notice that Sun and Jiw are in a relationship and now I'm thinking he will get a romance and it will be Ida, to wrap up most of the loose ends of this relationship pentagon. Based on no other reason than that they are both single
Dkjhgkjgh lmao @ Sun going to his whole staff: “WHO WANTS TO GO TO THE MARKET?” and then saying no to everyone one by one except his girlfriend
Kaopoon is making Sun help her dad install a restaurant hose in the middle of their work day hahaha
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FINALLY PROOF THAT LIEUTENANT MURDER IS A MURDERER. Warning for murder related description, there was a flashback where it showed a still body (face obscured) wearing Kaopoon's outfit on his bathroom floor
They really hammered home the ‘he is a murderer’ thing, he has a bag full of evidence of his crime
In more lighthearted news, Sun's rice intolerance is psychosomatic bc his mum never cooked rice for him and it's Sad Boy Hours
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Sun and Kaopoon!Jiw seem like they're finally ready to have sex (they've talked out their feelings and are going away together) but there are FIVE MORE EPS and the murder stuff still lingers so I wonder what other madness this show will unleash on me
Actually, six more eps!! Ahhhh that's so much time
Oh how the tables have turned now Kaopoon is the one too in love with Sun too have sex (bc she will go to the afterlife if she does -- But if she doesn't she'll be an evil spirit so... stuck between a rock and hard-on) 
I have been suspecting for a while tho that the sex will not change anything. She will probably have to solve her murder to pass on
You know what that is? Growth!!
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Now they are back to the weird energy of Sun going “Now that we are in love I would like to have sex,” and Kaopoon!Jiw going “Sex????? Never heard of it!!”
Against Kaopoon's credit, she has not informed Jiw that their relationship has progressed this much. She's just like "yeah things are normal" bc she wants to spend as much time with Sun while she has the chance
Win and Kaopoon!Jiw are just being good bros and Sun, in tandem with the sex-back-and-forth, is jealous of their dynamic
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Kaopoon has begun to solve her own murder!!! Unfortunately the first thing she did was point out inconsistent evidence to Lieutenant Parin, who extremely Murdered Her
I feel so happy for Jiw when she gets to experience normal boyfriend moments with Sun like these cheesy matching necklaces. <3 Why does Jiw's life have to be so complicated?
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Kaopoon is... spiritually breaking up with Jiw, so she can end the messiness of her involvement with Sun
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Ehkjehrrk Jiw is back to living her own life and a spirit just tried to grab at her and she just whacked their hand off and said, "Don't bother me now!" so she could keep cooking, love that for her
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The employee-boss affair's out of the bag!!
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They also keep cutting to Lieutenant Murder with his knife ready to go after Jiw for Knowing Too Much kjhgkhgjh so I guess the last four-and-a-half eps will dedicated to crime-fighting
Auntie Pu is kind of my favourite character on this show bc she goes from Ghost Nemesis to Ghost Mom all while having Sun's mom as her BFF and Sugar Mama
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Hahahaha all the other restaurant staff (minus Win, who is chill) are sucking up to Jiw now bc she's dating Sun
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Jiw felt guilty about dating Sun when half the things he loves are things that Kaopoon did and now the Horny Ghost is out of the bag
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I can only assume, bc he thinks she's bipolar, he will assume this is product of a hallucination
Reservations on the commentary on bipolar disorder aside, what DO u do when the person you love tells you that they can see ghosts and key relationship moments you had together were the product of them being possessed by a ghost
Sun now believes in ghosts but he's very upset about the romantic implications of this knowledge
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“I think the reason I haven’t been reincarnated... isn’t the fact I’ve never slept with a man after all” HORNY GHOST CONFIRMED FOR DETECTIVE GHOST. VINNNNNDICATION!!!!!
Awww the restaurant staff are all surrounding Chef with support in his time of romantic woe
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“But I want the two people I care about the most to be happy” I want Win to date Sun AND Jiw he's so good to them
AYYYYYYY Sun found out that Jiw made the recipes for the blog he liked (and called his soulmate) and now he's visiting her grandma bc he truly is in love with both Jiw AND Kaopoon
Sun said, “I acknowledge this is a complicated situation but I'm willing to work through the ghost thing and figure out how we feel about each other”
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Cutting back to Lieutenant Murder, he has just meowed at his coworker threateningly in response to being investigated (for attacking that same coworker!!)
Lieutenant Murder wears this same stupid outfit every time he's gonna do a crime recently and can I just say: I hate it
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WHAT'S HE GONNA DO, KILL EVERYONE WHO KNOWS SOMETHING ABOUT ONE OF HIS MANY CRIMES?? THAT'S A LOT OF PEOPLE! AUNTIE PU! JIW! THE FORESENICS ANALYST! ALMOST-SUN? HE CAN'T EVEN KILL KAOPOON BC HE ALREADY KILLED HER AND SHE'S A GHOST!!!!!!!!!!!
“Chef, is something wrong?” Jiw asked, after telling Sun that his brother-in-law is a murderer who also probably hit his sister with a car
Sun said, “Pls don't be a murderer I love u bro” and Parin said “My life of crime is very important to me”
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This is Kaopoon possessing Auntie Pu so that Kaopoon, Jiw and Sun can be a crime-fighting trio, love that for them
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There are SO MANY crimes going on right now I cannot even begin to describe but just know Lieutenant Murder is responsible for all of them
So Jiw has been kidnapped (GUESS WHO) and Sun is investigating every school in the area and Kaopoon has a network of ghosts looking for her while Jiw tries to find a way to communicate her location. The Crime-Fighting Trio Continues!!!
You'd think more people would notice  what a creep this guy is considering that he is literally DIGGING A GRAVE for the woman trapped in his cupboard!!
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Poor Nammoon she has no idea her husband is possessed by a murderous ghost. Which like, to be clear, he did try to murder before the ghost possessed him sooooooooooooo
“You're a good person,” said Nammoon, to a man who has committed at least three murders with a fourth on the go
Sun rescued Jiw via high speed car chase and now Auntie Pu and Kaopoon have taken Sun's car to chase Parin and GET HIS ASS
Also Jiw got 2 attack Parin which I think she deserved to get to do
Oh yikes it's possible she fatally injured him which doesn't bode well for the psychological implications of this whole ordeal
Nope I was wrong the ghost-busting continues
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Well I don't know what's more perturbing, the resolution of that fight or the fact that there is still one more episode of 1 HOUR left jhfkjhkfjh this better be a happy filler ep where Jiw and Sun get married omg
HORNY GHOST SHOW REALLY MAKING ME TEARY-EYED ON THE LAST EP
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The entire restaurant staff is a collective of morons who love Jiw for who she is  
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Jiw won a cooking scholarship and gets to study abroad in Europe for two years so it's Sad Boy Hours with Sun again
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THEY GOT A SECOND DOG THIS IS THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED ON THIS SHOW
SCREAM NOW AUNTIE PU IS A RICH AND FAMOUS GHOSTBUSTER MEDIUM
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Sun has expanded his restaurant business, leaving Rain in charge, and so they have been sent a new employee Summer, who I guess is everyone's new Pain in the Ass just for fun kgjhkjhkgh
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He was merely a plot device to prove the Chef Boys are Bros 4 lyf
In a weird turn of events Parin is still alive with amnesia???? Even if all of what he did as an adult was ghost possession stuff.... he did still try to attack a baby as a teen. That's a thing he did! Are we forgetting this????? I guess!!!
GET SOME THERAPY NAMMOON!!
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BACK TO THE DOGS:
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Sun is strumming a guitar woefully because he misses Jiw:
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SHE'S BACK AND THE JIW SUPPORT SQUAD IS THRIVING:
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Sun is presumably somewhere sadly shaking a tambourine
IT'S FINALLY HAPPY BOY HOURS
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2 notes · View notes
baby-pigtails · 4 years
Text
Kiddo Sites/Apps!
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Hi hi! I always see a lot of posts recommending sites and apps for age regressors but a lot of the time they’re the same things, so I thought I’d make my own! All the sites and apps on here are free, don’t worry! (Some may have ads or in-app purchase, though!) It’s under the cut cause I tried to include some preview pictures which made it kinda long! If anyone would like to add more or have me add more, just let me know! Have fun and stay safe during this time of quarantine and social distancing!
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WEBSITES
- DisneyClips
     This is probably my FAVOURITE site for when I’m regressed! It’s made by Disney fans for Disney fans, and is updated with new activites pretty often! It has a bunch of safe and fun games, quizzes, coloring pages, and even things like analysis charts for kiddos whose special interest or hyperfixation is Disney! It has dress up games that are super-duper easy and cute, and I love them because their style looks like it could come right out of the film it’s from! Like the dresses and everything, and they stick to each princess’s style while making different dresses from the original ones! It’s crazy!!
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-PBS Kids
     A classic but awesome site!! You can watch all sorts of episodes for free, you don’t have to put in an email or anything! There are even games and episodes from shows that have long since gone off the air!
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-American Girl
     Don’t be fooled by the site’s title, this site is for everyone! If you’re familiar with the American Girl characters, there’s lots of dress up and themed games, and if you’re not familiar with the characters, don’t worry cause there’s still super cute games like pet grooming and, my favourite, Coconut’s Safari! I linked to the games page, but there’s quizzes and polls, too!
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-Webkinz
     I’m sure a lot of you know about Webkinz already, but it hasn’t gone anywhere even after all these years! It’s one of my favourite sites, and it’s free to play now! For people unfamiliar with Webkinz, it’s a virtual world where you can raise a pet, decorate rooms, and collect all sorts of objects, food, and clothing! You can play this one online, with their new desktop app, or with their mobile app! (I will warn you, though, the mobile app does not have that much stuff on it)
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-Poptropica
     Poptropica has been around for a while too, but it’s changed a lot in recent years! You can play it online and there’s also an app. This one is probably for older kiddos, though - it has a lot of puzzles and requires a lot of thinking at times, so if you’re looking for a relaxing game this probably isn’t it. 
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-Poptropica
    Poptropica has been around for a while too, but it’s changed a lot in recent years! You can play it online and there’s also an app. This one is probably for older kiddos, though - it has a lot of puzzles and requires a lot of thinking at times, so if you’re looking for a relaxing game this probably isn’t it.
APPS
- Habitica
     Habitica is a super-duper easy habit tracker/reminder app! I use it to remind me to take my meds, shower, brush my teeth, things like that! But you put in your habits and to-do list so you can personalize it! Usually I don’t like apps like this because they offer no incentive but Habitica turns it into an RPG like Dungeons and Dragons!! So you can level up and get equipment and even pets! What I love about it, too, is that if you ever have any question, their FAQ is super clear and easy to understand, which makes it ideal for autistic kids like me!
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- Cookie Run
     Cookie Run is an oldie but a goldie! It’s a running platformer game where you can collect lots of cute cookies and their pets and learn their stories! Plus there’s canon LGBTQ+ rep with some of the cookie heroes! Cookie Run has a lot of bright colours and fast movement though, so it might not be the best game for kiddos with seizures or sensory issues!
- My Tamagotchi Forever
     Super cute revamp of tamagotchi!! Your pets don’t run away or anything in this one, haha! You can decorate your town and your house with coins you earn from simple minigames, and you can dress up your tamagotchis in different outfits and fill out their scrapbooks and collect them all! I really liked this app, definitely one of my favorites :)
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- Hello Kitty Lunchbox
     Super simple “cooking” game! Again, this is a super easy, no hassle game and is good for really young kiddos. You get to make a lunch for Hello Kitty and decorate it, along with her lunchbox before “eating” your meal. But again, I wanna stress this one is super simple and some kids may get bored of it.
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-Pocket Ponies
     A My Little Pony version of the classic ball shooter game. You aim to hit enemies with your balls, and eventually charge up your ponies so they can perform their special action. You get to collect My Little Pony characters and each one has a different ability.
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-Hello Kitty Music Party
     This one’s more of an idle tapper game. It wants you to tap on your screen along with the beat of the music, but even if you don’t tap with the beat you can still get rewards! It has a couple cutesy pop songs in the app, but it can also access your music library on your device so you can tap with whatever you want! The app itself doesn’t offer much instruction but it’s fairly simple to figure out. But like the other Hello Kitty game, it can grow boring quickly for some kids, which is why it became an idle game for me. 
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-Disney TsumTsum
     This one is kind of like Bejeweled or Candy Crush - you connect little Disney characters to make them “pop!” You get to collect a bunch of different characters and each character has a special ability.
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YOUTUBE CHANNELS
-RescueHero’s Nostalgia Zone
     A lesser known channel but it’s one of my favorites! It’s a gameplay channel, but pretty much every video is old video games like TV plug and plays, leapster/leap frog games, or CD-ROM games from the 2000s. It’s an active channel, too, and tends to upload every week or so! From what I can tell, there’s no voiceover and their videos are just simple, nostalgic gameplay.
-Shirley Curry
     This one’s a little weird but it’s very wholesome - it’s a grandma in her 80′s(?) who loves to play video games! She mostly plays games for older kiddos like Skyrim, but her videos are very calming and she’s very cute in the way she comments on games. She’s super sweet to her viewers and calls them her grandkids, and usuaslly responds in comments. Her videos are also easy videos to listen to in the background, too.
-pstoyreviews
     I don’t watch a lot of toy channels because a lot of the time they’re over the top and super corny or just... really weird, but this channel is run by two people (I think they are a couple but I’m not sure) named Shannon and Paul, and they’re very casual about their videos (despite the corny thumbnails, lol). Anyway, they mostly do blind bag openings for trinkets and toys that are currently on the shelves - things like Tokidoki, LOL Dolls, Shopkins, minifigures, things like that. It’s a very good channel if you like those cutesy sorts of things but don’t have the money to get them yourself! To my knowledge they’re not really sponsored, so there’s no encouraging you to buy a product or anything like that. Like I said, they’re very casual and do talk during the videos but they talk a little slow and there’s no background music, so they are very easy to understand! I believe Shannon also has a doll-specific channel, too, if you’re into that.
-nana825763
     Better known as piropito, this channel is well known for its really cute and wholesome Minecraft gameplay that you can start watching here. This is a Japanese channel, but he captions his own videos, so don’t worry! Anyway, his goal was to figure out everything in Minecraft with absolutely no cheats or searching the web for information or anything like that. That’s really the only thing I’d recommend on this channel, however, and do be careful because they do have some horror game playthroughs on there so stay safe!
-Sesame Street
     Not much to explain here! It’s Sesame Street, and they post clips of the show, songs, and sometimes even full episodes.
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uas-fics · 5 years
Text
Title: Bonnets and Adoption Forms
Rating:T
Summary: While looking for a charging cord, Tweek comes across adoption forms in Criag's desk--adoption forms with only Craig's information filled out on them.
Ships: Creek
Other: For @creekcrew​‘s creek week.
When I read, I skip over words and I totally just read the prompt as "parents" and not "single parents" but I doubt y'all care about the mistake that much.
—-
Tweek finished the final stitch on the pale blue bonnet. Grinning, he turned in his seat to set the bonnet carefully on Stripe's head. With nimble fingers, he tied the little silver ribbon under Stripe's furry chin. He carefully adjusted the Pioneer dress he'd bought offline early that week.
"Stripe, you look perfect," Tweek told the guinea pig.
Stripe replied by attempting to chew on the ribbon. Tweek tucked the ribbon farther under his chin.
He pursed his lips. Craig would be home in twenty minutes or so from work, but Tweek wasn't sure Stripe could wait that long before taking the bonnet Tweek worked so hard on off his little head.
"Maybe I should take a picture," Tweek muttered under his breath. He reached back for his long-forgotten phone. His whole day off from work he'd spent adjusting the dress since it came a bit too big.
Tweek loved to dress Stripe up in all sorts of costumes: A dinosaur, a cowboy, a princess, an astronaut — seeing his little man dressed-up made Tweek smile every time.
It made Craig smile, too. Which was why he had to see Stripe dressed up as a guinea pig about to embark on a journey along the Oregon Trail to a new land of gold and carrot-treats.
Tweek even dug out his old cowboy hat to wear when he showed Craig. Unfortunately, the hat didn't fit anymore, but he could easily carry Stripe in it. It would be adorable!
Tweek pressed the power button on his phone. It didn't light up. With a frown, he held the button down. The screen flashed once then went dark. Out of power.
Swearing, Tweek stood from the table. Stripe scratched at the bonnet. Picking up the cowboy hat, Tweek deposited Stripe into it. He carried him across the kitchen to the living room. Careful of the precious pet, Tweek groped the ground near the side of the couch for a phone charging cord. With an 'Ah!', he pulled the cord up, only to find it had been chewed in half.
"Stripe, what did we talk about?" Tweek scolded, showing Stripe the frayed wires. "You could have been electrocuted!"
Stripe sniffed the cord then went back to nibbling on the bonnet ribbon. Tweek untied the bonnet and set it down in the hat. He would put it on when he went to take the picture.
"Maybe Craig has one in his office I can use."
Tweek gathered Stripe up. He headed down the hall, past the photos of their life — high school and college graduation, holding each other outside the restaurant the night Tweek proposed, looking dashing and so in love on their wedding, moving boxes into their own house.
Snapshots of the American Dream, as Craig's dad would say before Tweek's own started waxing philosophically about it.
Tweek pushed open the door to Craig's office.
Their house was a bit bigger than just the two of them would ever need, but the deal on it was too good to pass up at the time, thus each of them had their own private rooms to do whatever with. Tweek's held his architecture and modeling tools, along with his sewing supplies; in his, Craig kept a computer and star charts and Red Racer memorabilia.
Tweek paused to admire an animation cell from the second Red Racer movie proudly displayed on the wall. Craig had hugged him so tightly, Tweek was sure his spine would snap when he gave it to him for his birthday two years ago.
Still in the hat, Tweek set Stripe down on the floor before bending to his knees to search through the computer desk drawers. He pulled open the top and found an organized drawer full of office supplies, some of which Tweek was positive Craig didn't use for work. No phone charging cord though.
The next drawer held files in hanging folders. Knowing that the cord couldn't possibly in that drawer, Tweek started to shut it when he noticed some papers peeking through a gap in the files.
Craig liked things organized, Tweek knew, so he pushed the folders aside and reached down. All of the files were labeled, so it would be easy to find where these papers lived in Craig's organizational system.
week held the paper to his face to read it. His heart skipped a beat.
Adoption forms. They were adoption forms. Why would Craig have those?
Tweek fell back to his bottom, flipping through the papers. Half of the blank lines had been filled. All of Craig's information printed with his neat, clear handwriting in black ink doned the paper, but one of Tweek's information. Not even his name.
A cold sweat broke across his skin. The question wasn't only 'why did Craig have these' but also 'why didn't he full out Tweek's information as well?'
They'd talked once or twice about children: if they wanted them, and if they did want them, how would they have them, surrogate or adoption, but those conversations never went much further than 'maybe' and 'a surrogate would be awkward, don't you think?' then Tweek would quickly change the topic.
He knew Craig wanted kids someday, but Tweek wasn't sure himself. The idea of being a father was appealing enough — dropping the youngster off on the first day of kindergarten, soccer games, scouts, making fun of other PTA parents with Craig and showing them all up with his baking skills. As a thought experiment, he liked the idea of parenting but put into practice, there was too much that could go wrong.
What if their child was embarrassed having two dads? What if they threw temper tantrums that Tweek couldn't deal with without breaking down himself? What if he spoiled the child? And when the kid got older and more defiant? How would he handle that? He would ruin a kid for life!
That thought made Tweek's stomach twist.
"Tweek?"
Tweek jumped, swinging his head around. In the doorway, Craig frowned at him.
"I got off early," He explained, stepping and flicking on the light. Tweek blinked the stars from his vision as his husband crouched next to him. "Honey? What's wrong. You look sick."
Wordless, Tweek held up the forms and pointed. Craig winced.
"Oh. Um, those." Craig whistled nervously. "Those..."
"Craig," Tweek finally found his voice again, "why do you have these? Do you...you're not leaving me are you?"
Craig stared at him, eyes wide, as he processed the question. "Leaving you? Why would I leave you?"
"You only filled out your information! You're going to leave me and find a man who wants to adopt with you, right? Or are you going to raise a kid by yourself?" Tweek shook despite himself. Visions of waking up alone, cooking dinner for one, and being left in this big house with no one else clouded his mind's eye.
Craig pulled him into a hug. "I'm not leaving you." He tapped Tweek's wedding ring. "We had a whole big ceremony about that promise. Remember? Jimmy got drunk and tried to do his off-color stand-up to my grandma, and she smacked him with her purse?"
Tweek forced a smile. "She threw her punch on him as a warning first."
Craig nodded. "And he still kept talking."
The two shared a laugh. As they puttered out into silence. Tweek gripped the papers.
"Um," he started, "so..."
Craig looked away. He breathed a swear and said, "I wasn't going to show you those, but, uh, yeah. I filled those out a month or two ago. It was on a whim." He shrugged in a way Tweek knew he was lying. "I thought it would be good practice in case we ever did — "
"Craig do you really want to have a baby — err, a child — right now in our lives?" Tweek cut in.
Craig took a breath and met his eyes. "Yeah. I would." He put his hands on Tweek's shoulders and squeezed with a smile. "We would make the best dads in the world. We'd raise a smart and practical kid, babe."
"Or an impulsive and aloof one," Tweek muttered. Louder, he continued, "I don't think I would make a good dad. You would, but would they even let someone like me have a child?" He tapped his temple.
"Having an anxiety disorder doesn't make you a bad parent." Craig rolled his eyes. "If anything, it would make you a better one. Our child would never get hurt since you would have them in a life vest and pool floaties all the time."
Tweek snorted. "And you'd have to go to school every other day since they flipped off their teacher."
"I flipped off the teacher all the time, and I turned out just fine."
"Yeah, right!"
The two laughed again. Tweek pressed against his side, holding the papers up.
"Do you really think I'd be a good dad? If I knew that I would be, I don't think I'd mind having a kid with you."
Craig wrapped an arm around him and kissed the top of his head.
Before he could speak, Tweek heard a chewing sound. With a gasp, he twisted around to find Stripe had crawled out of the cowboy hat and found a computer wire to nibble on.
He snatched Stripe up, scolding him, before setting him in Craig's lap. Craig  'aaah'-ed at Stripe's dress.
"He has a bonnet too," Tweek told him, but made no move to retrieve the bonnet from the hat.
Craig chuckled, shaking his head.
"And you really think you wouldn't be a good dad?" He held up Stripe to tap his nose against Tweek's. "You're amazing with our fur son."
Tweek shrugged. "He's a pet. It's different with a human kid. I could really mess up. They could end up hating me."
"No one could hate you," Craig muttered into his hair. Tweek hummed, unsure.
As they sat there, he thought again about the idea of being a parent. He thought about helping with homework and braiding hair before school. He imagined camping trips in the back yard and hot cocoa with star-shaped marshmallows after making mid-winter snow angles. Even the temper tantrums and fights over the car he envisioned suddenly didn't seem so bad.
It wasn't like he would be alone. He wasn't going to be a single parent. He'd have Craig and Craig would have him. They'd fill out what the other lacked like they always did.
Tweek looped his arm around Craig's waist and kissed under his ear.
With a smile, Tweek offered, "If you give me a pen, I'll help you fill out my half of the form."
---
59 notes · View notes
queenofnohr · 4 years
Text
The Charming Empire - Otome Review (Soshi Amazaki Route)
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I was going to hold off on doing this because 1. I wanted to play more routes to have a more comprehensive look at the game and 2. I don’t really have free time yet. Promptly ignored the above logic mostly to get this out of my system.
Before we begin, a disclaimer - While I do have pretty extensive knowledge about the otome genre in both longer “proper” VNs as well as the shorter, bite sized mobile VNs, I’m able to derive enjoyment from most anything (I feel the need to point this out because I see a lot of reviews that get hung up on stuff I can easily brush off even if I do understand where they’re coming from).
This is going to be a spoiler-free review based on Soshi Amazaki’s route alone.
Firstly, I must note that this is a mobile otome game. If you’re looking for something as long and substantial as, say, Hakuouki, Alice in the Country of Hearts, Dandelion, etc. this is probably not the game for you.
Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll be rating it based on usual points with a more... comprehensive and personal look at the end (feel free to skip to that if you know our tastes align and/or just want to see me losing my mind).
Prologue - 1/10
Normally I wouldn’t separate prologue from story. However, as this game started as a mobile game, there is no general route in which one gains points toward a love interest as is standard in full-length otome games. However, even by mobile game standards this game’s prologue fails in that it you meet exactly 0 love interests. Indeed, the prologue is the bare-bones introduction of the setting. This flaw is further complicated by the fact that, because it started as a mobile game, routes are bought individually. This means that there is no way to gauge the love interests except by the game’s straightforward summary on the buy screen. Luckily for me, I was sold at “Kenjiro Tsuda voices a love interest who is both a big brother and a lord” so this wasn’t as knee-capping as it could’ve been, but normally you’d have to simply take a leap of faith because if a love interest doesn’t actually end up being your type, you’re out of luck since you’ve already paid for the route.
This is an aside, but translation for the prologue is... questionable. It isn’t unreadable, like some translations I’ve had the misfortune of reading, but it does create some confusion regarding the MC’s family situation which I can’t help but clear up here. MC is the daughter of the previous lord whose mother moved with her out to the countryside. Her mother is died of illness, and MC now lives with an elderly couple. It’s simply when I say it here, but in game the family situation isn’t actually explained until well into the route and the narration refers to the couple as the “old man” and “old woman,” while the MC calls them “Grandpa” and “Grandma” (ojii-san, obaa-san in Japanese, which is a literal translation of what someone would call any older folk with the degree of familiarity MC has with them) while they call her “princess” (literally, hime-sama). The closeness of referring to them as grandparents vs the distance of the narrative’s “old man/woman” + calling the MC princess in a literal sense (vs. a nickname) is jarring especially because, again, they do not clearly explain the MC’s family situation.
Story - 7/10
Soshi holds the most powerful seat in all the empire. Only trusting himself, he rejects the opinions of others as he continues his dictatorship agenda -- breeding animosity amongst the people. He’s a cold man who sees even his own sister as a political tool.
This is the official description for Soshi’s route. Unfortunately(?) for some this... doesn’t really hold true for most of the route and I find it an odd way to bill it.
The initial conflict/relationship growth in the game stems from the MC wanting to be closer to Soshi - not necessarily in a romantic sense - and his distance due to his position. If you’re expecting a more haughty/sneering/pragmatic Kenjiro Tsuda more along the lines of his role as Kazama Chikage and/or a villain archetype who treats MC as a tool (no judgment, we all got our otome types) he’s by and large not that. Things get more complicated around the 10th chapter, but that’s 2/3 of the game in.
The writing is competent. Again, if you’re looking for complex worldbuilding and something deep, you will not find it here. But, while it isn’t poetry in motion, there was at least no point where I actively cringed or asked myself why I was playing it (this is compared to my experience with Voltage Games and Playchoices).
The MC is tolerable. There’s nothing special about her, but she avoids being a literal faceless protagonist with zero presence while also not having such a strong personality as to be polarizing. She shows more competence and restraint than I expected of her (the bar was nearly floor level, but still).
The pacing is... odd. I get the distinct feeling that it’s a longer otome shoved inside a mobile otome, if that makes sense. I’ve seen other reviews call it rushed, but that isn’t necessarily the feeling I get. For a game to feel “rushed” to me, it has to show a lack of care and attention to detail; scenes are had just to have them and either don’t contribute to the overall plot/theme/feeling of the game. I feel like this game does take care, especially in it’s early bits, but some developments happen later on which don’t get the development time they necessarily need. Which leads me to-
The plot kind of goes off the rails around chapter 10 or 11. It returns to form in chapter 14ish. This... plot twist, shall we say, is predicated on hiding obfuscating knowledge from the reader that should be apparent due to being from the MC’s PoV. Whether or not this is a dealbreaker will depend largely on the person. Personally, I was loopy off resisting sleep medication while reading this part so I just sort of accepted it and the return to form/explanation in later chapters made it worth it, but your mileage will definitely vary. I have Thoughts on this, but this is all I can really say while still maintaining a spoiler free review.
Playtime if ardently listening to the voices is ~3 hours. Playtime can be cut down significantly if you’re a fast reader and don’t overly care about the voice acting.
I haven’t tried all alternate options, but there doesn’t seem like huge variations regarding the choices. The 16th chapter, however, will change based on whether you get the Normal or Happy End.
Art - 7/10
The art isn’t anything special nor is it terrible. It’s much less stiff and has more style to it that most mobile otome’s I’ve played, but is lacking when compared to, again, full length otome games.
The MC has a face, which gets points from me (I dislike faceless MCs a lot especially when included in CGs). The fact no one but love interests even get sprites is somewhat jarring.
As far as CGs go, they’re standard fare and about the number you’d expect for the length of a route. The game isn’t raunchy like... at all so don’t expect anything too scandalous.
Voice Acting - 10/10
What can I say? It’s Kenjiro Tsuda.
To elaborate, however-
Kenjiro Tsuda does an excellent job. I’m not sure if I’d call it his best work, but even if it is voiced, I think there’s some expectation for a mobile otome’s voicework to be phoned in. This is not the case and Tsuda’s acting gives a lot of life to the character and scenarios. I’ll, uh, save my gushing for my line-by-line dissertation, and leave it at that.
What was unexpected was, despite not having sprites, minor characters do get voices! They also have some rather nice performances, and there was no VA I disliked listening to or whose performance was noticeably lacking compared to the others (the actual sound quality was consistent overall as well).
Overall - 8/10
Aside from the prologue, this is a solid performance from a mobile otome game. Compared to full-length otome games it’s lacking, but it’s still one of the better mobile otomes I’ve played. For the $6 you can get individual routes for on the mobile app, it’s a fun, quick romp that was perhaps not necessarily what was advertised (regarding the actual summary), but instead met the expectations I dared to dream of. While I can’t vouch for the game in its entirety, I can, at the very least, vouch for this route.
Comprehensive Overlook + Personal Rating - 10/10
Okay, I’ve been objective as possible despite this being a very subjective topic and now it’s time for me to shill my little heart out.
Writing a standard fare review for this game was really really hard for me because against all odds, logic, and my own taste preferring shit like Hakuouki, I’m in love with this game. Obsessed with it. Half the reason why I’m doing this is because it is a totally unremarkable (though, again, fun) otome game so of course it doesn’t have, like, a community, but I need to fucking gush about it somewhere.
Why?
Because Soshi Amazaki literally hits every single husband trait I so dearly love. This route is the equivalent of if someone took my taste buds and analyzed each and every one of them, then cooked a meal precisely on my most loved things. It isn’t necessarily fine dining, but it feels like it was scientifically engineered to appeal directly to me. It’s like I was possessed and ghostwrote it. It’s like someone peered into my heart and teased out the essence of everything I’ve ever wanted, then told me to eat shit because the shell it’s rammed into is that of a bite sized otome game. I have never had such a feast before me. I’ve never been served such an exquisite palette of flavors. I have never been so thoroughly outraged that this is the form my heart takes.
And yet, I’m... pretty much satisfied, despite its flaws and shortness, with my only real outrage stemming from the fact there is literally nobody I can talk about this with (the morning after I binged the entire route I made my boyfriend play it just so I could rave like a lunatic to someone about it) as well as my shame for being so enamored with what is essentially a mediocre otome game.
I talked about how the story kind of went off the rails 2/3rds of the way through, but honestly? I didn’t care because the payoff was incredible. Was I scared the game wasn’t going to end up where I wanted it to while it was happening? Was I prepared to be immensely disappointed because I felt, briefly, like I was baited and that of course nothing would never let me have my cake and eat it too? Yep. But you know what? I don’t know or care if it’s because I set the bar so low or what, but my expectations were thoroughly blown out of the water.
I’m still committed to making even this part of the review spoiler free, so I won’t be going into depth about what I loved (I’ll save that for another post because this is long enough as it is), but I’ll add this apart from just character archetype and themes being what I loved.
That is, shockingly enough and even considering the pacing and, ahem, weirdness - this is a route where everything seems to serve a function. Again, the story isn’t necessarily deep, and while perhaps I would’ve gone about certain things a different way (and had there been space allotted for greater development), there are many, many, many things that are called back to or that seem insignificant, but serve as thematic backbone and create delicious implications.
As a big brother connoisseur, I give this route 3 Michelin Stars.
If you followed me for/like Fire Emblem’s Marx/Xander, I highly recommend this route.
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septembersung · 4 years
Text
I said I wouldn’t do it, but here I am, posting another chapter of Generations!
Please understand that this draft is, while scanned for typos and basic coherency, a genuine “rough” draft - what a block sketch is to the final painting.
If you’re enjoying these and want more, please also know that I am putty in the hands of praise and feedback.
(Chapter One here.)
Chapter Two
Meadowlark Farm stretched across four sections in central Kansas, more than two thousand acres of plains, rolling hills, riverbanks, stubborn cottonwoods, irregular ponds, and the occasional dense stands of timber. The old family farmhouse stood close to the middle of the property, near what had once been a river but was now a seasonal creek, in a particularly fine grove of cottonwoods. In high summer, the waxy leaves shimmered wildly in the slightest breeze, like a flock of dragonflies or a shoal of fleeing fish.
The house itself rested against a little rise in the land, looking out sedately over the fields, with one basement corner, the original cellar, built into the hill. Two ancient limestone fenceposts still marked the end of the patchy gravel driveway, half taken over by dandelions. Huge clumps of pampas grass marked the rutted drive. The house rested easily in the shade of tall elms and cottonwoods. Part of the original limestone foundation remained, ringing three corners of the original square ground floor. Seen from the side, where the driveway ended in a field of stubby buffalo grass, it looked regular enough, a typical nineteenth and twentieth century farmhouse in peeling white paint. Walking around the curving front porch revealed an extra wing, built on at a diagonal angle, which stuck out like an injured bird testing the wind with its good wing. The attic, a huge airy room above the original second floor, winked back at the sun with many small square windows.
Back of the house, in the triangle between the west-facing end of the house the northward-thrusting angle of thew the new wing - over a hundred years old and still it remained, in family parlance, "the new wing" - a little kitchen garden grew half-wild. Wide, smooth stepping stones marked the short path from screen door to the little plot.
Beyond the new wing, in the true backyard, children's playground equipment dotted the slope. Mismatched swings hanging from chains and ropes attached to rusting A-frames and weathered wooden beams swung gently in the perpetual Kansas breezes. Slides and monkey bars glinted in the hot sun. Chickenwire separated the play area from an enormous rectangular garden, already overflowing with produce, heavily over-planted, and exuding fragrant herb smells with every gusty breeze. The land ran down a gentle hill towards a dense growth of timber and a long, enormous pond.
Not too near the pond, several mismatched outbuildings hunched in what could not quite be called a cluster. Like a crowd trying to pretend it is not a crowd, each person too embarrassed to stand too close to anyone else, they held a swath of ground to themselves. A huge, two story barn with its paint long gone, worn to a brownish grey. A nearly shiny Morton building, not quite new but startlingly contemporary. A hay shelter, with rusted slanted roof. A skeleton barn, with just a few peeling boards left here and there, it's empty roof frame stretching over antique machinery. And a solid, unremarkable little shed, red boards dulled to maroon, covered in a patched roof of mismatched shingles topped with an enormous handmade antenna. The double front doors stood ajar and a solid-looking padlock hung from the wide-open latch, hanging casually open.
Beyond the swings, the big garden, the outbuildings, and the pond, the land fell sharply away to a creek bed. It was low in this high, dry summer, and nearly still. The banks, crumbled where the grass gave way to clay, ran with little wavering along the crease where hill met plain, until they met the little woods to the east. Cropland stretched out beyond the creek to the north. Near the trees, but enough to be shaded by them except in earliest morning, just on the north side of the river, lay the old family burial ground.
It had not always been meticulously tended, but in Leah's lifetime the oldest headstones had been somewhat restored, the most egregious weeds removed, and this summer, even the grass had been recently mowed.
Anna-Lucia knelt at her mother's headstone. Martha Addison, beloved wife, mother, sister. May 8 2005 - August 15, 2070. RIP Et Lux perpetua luceat eia.
The thick granite headstone with its neatly cut, clear letters stood in line with several others, some so weathered and faded as to be hardly legible. After a moment, hand resting on the sun-hot granite, Anna-Lucia sat down and crossed her legs, shoulders slumped, hands folded in her lap. A few brown rosary beads hung between her fingers, but her mind had drifted into wind and dappled light and the hum of insects and the sound the tall grass made bowing again and again to itself in the gentle, incessant breeze. Time passed but she did not know it. Then -
"Here you are!"
Anna-Lucia started badly as a sun-blind silhouette loomed over and dropped down suddenly, throwing two strong arms around her shoulders.
Dazed from the bright light and her unintentional reverie, it took Anna-Lucia several stunned seconds to process the small hands with many rings, the flyaway, unevenly cut dark blonde curls, the lavender perfume.
"Liza!" she gasped out at last, returning the hug.
In the sixteen months since she had seen her sister, Liza's choppy curls had grown irregularly long. Her wiry arms were sun browned and stronger than ever.
"Oh, I have missed you, little sister," Liza sighed affectionately, giving her one last squeeze and sitting back, stretching out like a cat on the warm prickly grass. It was an old joke between them; Liza, the eldest, was as petite and youthful as their mother had been; Anna-Lucia had her father's bigger bones and had nearly always been mistaken as the oldest.
Trying to shake off the sun-daze and afternoon grogginess, Anna-Lucia found she had no words - just a huge, cheek-splitting grin, and a few irrepresible tears in the corner of her eyes. She gripped Liza's shoulder and squeezed. Liza smiled back, but her eyes were tired and new care lines were etched there.
"You didn't tell me you were coming," Anna-Lucia said at last, when the silence had stretched so long it began almost to feel like another dream.
"No one knew. Not even me, until forty-eight hours ago. I fully expected to miss this year's reunion and be stuck on the beat 'til Christmas."
"Lots to report in Rome?"
"I've hardly been there - they send me all over the EU. That's the great thing about this job. Catholicity is a small operation with big dreams. I'm really the only full-time culture reporter they've got, so I have my pick of assignments. There's enough for three of me and three Giovannis besides."
"I still can't believe they get away that name."
Liza grinned wickedly. "Oh it's caused a few misunderstandings, but the reporter credentials, and the kinds of bylines I'm racking up, set them straight pretty fast."
"I hardly know anything about your job - you've sent three letters, Liza. Three, in a year and a half."
"Sixteen months, thank you very much." Liza hesitated. "It's - changing, over there. Letters aren't as... in vogue as they used to be."
Anna-Lucia looked at her sharply. "You're joking." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, pushing away the lingering brain fog and reminding herself she was still not certain what privacy remained at home. Take nothing for granted. "I mean, nothing's more fashionable than retro, right? Where would the elite be if not at the height of fashion?"
Liza shrugged, an airy show of unconcern belied by the downturned corners of her mouth, as she reached into her bag, tossed carelessly on the ground next to her. "Whatever fires their rockets, I guess. It's pages, now. Personal pages to orally deliver messages."
Anna-Lucia felt inside, somewhere, that this was more important than she grasped, than her sister let on, but the sun had been slowly cooking her for more than an hour and Liza was pulling out of her carelessly dropped bag a thick wad of cream-colored envelopes addressed in a trailing scrawl she knew very well.
Her heart leapt. "You saw him!"
Liza shook her head, and she was pale under her tan. "These came through the postal service."
Not, Anna-Lucia registered distantly, the post office.
"That's how I found you out here, actually. I got in not twenty minutes ago and went in looking for Dad, and Grandma immediately sent me out here." Her eyes conveyed that Leah had warned her, too, they could not speak completely freely in the house. "These are all addressed to him."
Anna-Lucia stared at her. "Just to Dad? Not even one for me? Or you?"
"I tried to tell you." Liza held out the letters. "Check the dates."  Swiftly, Anna-Lucia tugged the rubber bands off the thick stack and they uncompressed in her hands, spilling over her lap. Each was labeled, F1sh, followed by a string of numbers she recognized as an encoding of month, year, and - something she couldn't decipher. Location, probably.
"A year ago? The most recent one is twelve months old?"
"One's only seven."
"You've read them?"
Liza frowned at her. "I take my job seriously, Anna-Lucia."
"I'm sorry. Stupid question." Mechanically, Anna-Lucia gathered the letters back up and rebound them. "So you've had no news."
Liza just looked at her.
Understanding began to dawn, and Anna-Lucia did not like it. "That's why you came home."
"We need Uncle Kevin's address book."
"No news at all? Seven months and nothing? Not a single person knows where he is or what happened to him?"
"Will you help me find Dad?" Liza pleaded, glancing down at her watch, a slim, chic, old fashioned ladies' analog. "He needed these... yesterday."
Anna-Lucia felt as unmovable as the headstones beside her.
"Please, Anna-Lucia. I don't... I can't tell him alone."
Liza stood and held out a hand. Anna-Lucia grasped it and was hauled to her feet, stiff, half-asleep limbs complaining and uncooperative. She heaved a deep breath, involuntarily, as if she'd been swimming underwater. Their little brother had been missing for at least seven months, and no one had heard a thing.
"Dad's in the new shed."
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a-cai-jpg · 4 years
Text
this is a very stilted post.
I have a collection of songs that make me cry.
I'm not in the habit of playing them very often. I don't even save them in my YouTube favorites, or my wormhole of a Spotify account. I kind of leave it up to fate for the familiar melody and lyrics to find me again, and on days where I feel especially brave, I'll queue it up on a drive. But only on a drive.
I watched a variety show about songwriters a few months back, and one of my favorite contestants said something along the lines of, "I think everyone has a theme that they just can't touch."
Sometimes, it's because the pain is still too raw. Sometimes, it's because we're too fearful to truly reckon with the sorrow, unwilling to drink it in, let it roll around in our mouths as the bitter flavor penetrates our tongue, and feel it burn on the way down.
I don't listen to the songs often because I'm afraid I'll become desensitized, that the most humane and most compassionate part of me will become numb.
But also because I'm not in the business of seeking out pain.
I used to be obsessed with tragedy, chasing it with a sort of masochistic relish because I thought you could never be as human as you were when you cried. It's kind of like why people really like those sad, touching Thai commercials that make you bawl your eyes out without fail every time.
But as I grew older, I realized there really is something that I can't touch. Sometimes, I tongue the edges of it, prodding with caution, but only on very, very rare occasions do I peel away the protective layer. There are some things I can't watch, can't listen to too closely, or else I'll feel myself unravel around the edges.
And not gonna lie, but now is not a time I'm willing to tug at the ends of the thread. So instead, I'll let a past me do that.
When I was a sophomore in university, I submitted a monologue for the annual Asian cultural show. It was submitted anonymously, because at the time, it wasn't something I was ready to talk about.
(it still isn't, but i have gotten more practice talking about it in the years that have elapsed.)
See, what had happened was, I was watching Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo (disappointment of my life, sorry the Chinese version is better even though the Korean cast is bEaUtIfUl), and suddenly, I had a mini-panic attack about death.
It was the dumbest thing. I was watching Park Soondeok try to woo Wang Eun, and the silly girl--bless her heart--hunted a whole bear to express her love for him. I remember the scene had startled me, because she popped on screen with a bear skin covering her body. And I was like, "Uh that's like, a lot of bad karma right."
And I don't really know how karma works, but I suddenly remembered something that my grandmother had said a long time ago. She said that she was a sinner, because she's "killed" so much for our family.
In Chinese, the words she used were 杀生, which literally means "kill life" but generally, animal life.
She said it because she is the main chef of our family. Whenever she visited China, our family would go through a bit of crisis because that meant either my grandfather cooked or my mom's boyfriend cooked.
Once, my grandfather served me Palmier cookies and the same fried rice we'd eaten for a week for dinner. Often, my mom's boyfriend chopped up carrots and celery to dip with ranch for dinner.
It was great.
(no, but our family barely functioned when my grandmother was gone. those six months would be us sitting silently around the dinner table, daring each other to be the first to try a dish.)
Weirdly, that little thing she said stuck with me. And in that moment, sophomore year of college, sitting in my top bunk watching Scarlet Heart Ryeo, I panicked.
I can't really dissect why I panicked. But the result was this ridiculous plan that I had to stop eating meat for the rest of my life to collect all the good karma for my grandmother.
(yeah, so that didn't last because I literally got sausages that weekend cus hello, continental breakfast.)
It wasn't that I never thought about death or my family members dying before then. In the second grade, I read a story about the friendship between a squirrel and a leaf, and cried and cried and cried when the story ended and the leaf died, not because the leaf died but because the leaf promised to be reborn, and would be reborn at the turn of the year, but humans wouldn't be.
But for some reason, all of the separate moments of panic and fear dispersed over a decade culminated in that moment, as I watched Soodeok pull the bearskin off of her head, and I started crying so hard I couldn't breathe.
So I wrote a monologue. The original draft was very, very long and very, very detailed, and I probably went through half a box of tissues writing it. I eventually cut it down and didn't save the first copy because I never wanted to read it again.
The theme of the monologue comes up every time I talk about my Chinese American identity. It comes up in personal statements, in creative narratives, in discussion groups, and in the Facebook likes I dish out whenever I see a relevant Subtle Asian Traits post. It's the sense of biculturalism and the accompanying endeavor to somehow reconcile my reality with that of my immigrant parents and grandparents. It's the weary acceptance that ultimately, there may be no reconciliation, and all that's left is regret.
Whenever someone asks me what my favorite food is, I would say spring onion noodles. But this is the funny part--I will never order them in a restaurant. Some time in middle school, I went on a family trip with my extended relatives in China. Every time we stopped to eat, my aunt would order me a bowl of spring onion noodles because she knew I loved it so much, and every time, I would make a face and say, "Grandma does it better."
See, I don't know if she actually does. I just knew I liked hers more.
After my grandmother returned to China, I started making spring onion noodles myself, because it tasted more like home even if I never got it right.
I also really like dumplings. My grandma makes the best dumplings, but I'm afraid to ask her to make them, because the last time I did, they were too salty. Now, I'm afraid to ask her to make spring onion noodles too, because maybe my memories tasted better than the real thing.
But the real, real reason I'm scared is that I'm scared she's getting old. I'm scared her tastebuds are not the same as they were when she lived in Monterey Park, cooking in our second floor kitchen.
In my senior year of college, I called my grandmother for the first time on my own. The moment I heard her voice, staticky over the long distance call, I started crying, and it was stupid because I had to pretend I wasn't crying and I was trying to talk normally and it was awful because it was the kind where your voice came in hiccupy stutters, and she definitely knew I was crying because she kept asking, "Why did you call? What's wrong?" while acting casual, for my sake.
When I was in the eighth grade, I was walking a friend's German Shepherd that ended up dragging me across the pavement in the park. It's a story I tell a lot, because it is truly hilarious in hindsight, but the ending goes like this:
I go home crying, because my glasses broke and I have cuts on the back of my left hand and down my face. I take a bath, something I grew out of doing years ago, and my grandmother doesn't reprimand me. She sits next to me and speaks in that vaguely disapproving voice of her, the tone of so many old Asian ladies, and tells me that life is hard and you will meet people that you don't get along with, but you just have to suck it up. And I start crying harder, because she cared.
That day, she also followed me from the front door of our house to my mom's master bathroom, asking, "What's wrong?"
We talk a lot about the Chinese zodiac in our household, more when my grandmother and grandfather still lived with us, but my aunt brought it up a few days ago. In the Chinese zodiac, the ox and the sheep are foils to each other--me and my grandmother. When I was little, I would say, "Ugh, this is why we fight so often." A few days ago, my mom said, "That's why you and grandma never got along," and I stayed silent.
I sometimes tell people that my grandmother is more like my mother figure, and my mom is more like an older sister. And my mom hates it. But, it's because everything that others associate with an Asian mom, I associate with my grandmother. All the memes about immigrant mother bringing their children peeled and cut fruit are about my grandmother, fending off my complaints about having to eat apples every single day, and stubbornly bringing me sliced apples and pears. All the stories about immigrant parents expressing their love through the words "Come eat. Food is ready," is my grandmother who singlehandedly kept her family together through sheer will and a kitchen stove.
Sometimes, when I'm brave enough to talk to people about how I feel about her, I would say that I would gladly give her half of the rest of my life, just so we can leave together. I'm scared her life would be less than perfect, and I wish I made money earlier so I can take her to Cambridge and Rome, but I'm also scared that I'm selfish and weak and unable to give her what she really wants.
Anyways.
Four tissues later, here's the monologue:
I am obsessed with time.
I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the second hand moves relentlessly in an endless loop on the face of an old clock. I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the mention of it tightens my throat, squeezing until the pressure travels to my heart and lungs, and finally settling somewhere deep in my gut.
I was told that time is linear. The Second Law of Thermodynamics. Chaos and disorder grow infinitely—there is no going back.
When I was little and time was but a tiny grain of sand in a large, foreboding hourglass, I believed in guardian angels. They were the ones who caught me tumbling from a swing, having flown too high on my too weak wings. They were the ones who waited outside the gates of my elementary school—a familiar face of comfort floating amidst a crowd of foreign visages. They were the ones who promised me plates and plates of hand-wrapped dumplings, and most importantly, they were the only ones who could cook spring onion noodles with a sunny side up egg the way I liked it, and no restaurant could ever hope to get the taste just the same.
But also, when I was little, I believed that guardian angels existed outside of time. They were immortal, they gave me life. But as the number of years they conferred to me increased, they seemed to become more and more human.
Sometimes, I’d blink, and for a terrifying moment, I’d catch glimpse of an elderly couple, backs hunched and hair splattered with grey, standing in my kitchen.
This is me, a girl obsessed with time. I had the liberty of being born and raised in the United States. My Chinese immigrant parents labored long days at work, and my grandparents were given the roles as my primary caretakers.
My grandfather was the quiet one, a retired electrical engineer who made it his mission to somehow teach me to love mathematics. My grandmother was the loud one, previously a librarian—the irony, I know—who never went to college but could calculate prices of groceries faster than I could pull out a calculator. I grew up dancing around their peculiar dynamic, seesawing back and forth between going ant-watching with my grandfather as I recited the Chinese timestables and trying to finish too many platters of food my grandmother piled in front of me as she told me stories of life back in China—in the good old days.
Growing up in California, it was inevitable that I saw the United States as home to both me and my family. It was where I had spent nearly two decades of my life—and where my mother, grandmother, and grandfather had spent nearly two decades of their lives.
And yet, two decades was not nearly enough time. Space could not be reconciled, and time was rendered obsolete.
Home, for them, was not our little town in the suburbs of LA. When my father passed away, my mother said, “We don’t have enough money to bring him home.” She’d said it carelessly in front of me, perhaps thinking 6-year-old me wouldn’t notice, let alone understand. But 6-year-old me did. Home, I realized, for them wasn’t home for me.
The thought was terrifying. I realized that there will come a time, when I’d return home, and it wouldn’t be the same place my mother, my grandmother, and my grandfather returned to.
I began to play with the idea of condensing time and space. How great it would be, if home was simultaneously California and China. Time differences, traveling time, the Pacific Ocean would be utterly abolished, and our hearts would return home together.
But time flew by and the pile of sand grains at the bottom of the hourglass grew without my noticing. I hadn’t yet the chance to tell my grandparents about my meditation on time and space, and suddenly, my grandfather decided to return home. Time had seemed to warp, fastforwarding the years I’d taken for granted, and now refusing to slow down.
Here’s the thing—I do not wish to be selfish. I want my family to be happy—to return home—but I am terrified that my own fragile notion of home will shatter in return.
Because the reality is, home isn’t physical space. Home is, in all truthfulness, time. Time I’d spent with my family, and the years I have left to spend with them.
I’d let time slip through my fingers as I tried to come up with this theory of “home.” I’d tried to condense “home” into a condominium, apartment D, a large peach tree shading the backyard. Yet now, the tree has been cut down, and my mother speaks of moving to a city forty minutes away. What then, I ask myself, is home?
Home is the promises I’d made to my grandparents—promises I’m no longer sure I can keep because I cannot cover large enough distances with so little time. Home is the way I could never tell them “I love you,” and the regret that builds in my heart as I realize that home is a ticking time bomb that threatens to throw the world into chaos. Entropy increases. Things fall apart.
In a little bit, home will be too many miles away, too many hours away, for me to return to. Home will be in a foreign city surrounded by a peculiar amalgamation of unfamiliar modernity and history she’d lived through. Home will be on the opposite shore of an ocean I cannot swim across, with no one to cook spring onion noodles for.
I am a girl obsessed with time. I’d been blessed with a lot of time, and yet, I’d tossed it all out of the window of my second story bedroom. I am a girl obsessed with time, and I’d trade in my soul for it to reverse, so I can make home a little more concrete, a little more happy, a little more lasting. I am a girl obsessed with time, and when I wake up 2:30 in the morning, I think I can see the sands rushing down the chute of the hourglass, and the sight of it tears me apart.
I am a girl obsessed with time, and I would like to apologize to my beloved mother, grandmother, and grandfather for taking so much of it for granted. If I had another run at these eighteen years, I only hope to reach this conclusion sooner and fulfill my promises.
Dear grandma and grandpa,
I am a girl obsessed with time. Every day, I pray to God to give you a little more. How had the time flown by so quickly? Was yesterday not the day you brought me on the airplane for the first time? I can still taste the juice of the grapes a stranger had given us—snacks for the little girl—in the back of my tongue. Yet now I’m no longer the toddler you held in your arms. Grandma and grandpa, time is rushing by on a train I cannot seem to catch. Will you forgive me for reaching our home a little too late?
Love.
(i included my favorite part in a creative narrative project i did for a class in college. if you want to hear it in my voice: here.) (pls don’t click for the sake of my voice bc i sound like a literal duck. click for my grandparents wandering around hangzhou.) (also, if it is different its cus i tried to fit it in somehow with a longer poem i was writing.) (i don’t like poems.)
The reason I wrote this isn't that I wanted to pick at a scab. I heard a song recently, from the same songwriter variety show, that I had blindsided a few months back. I heard it at around 1 am in the morning, and I cried.
Here is the collection of songs:
橘子 by 邓见超
考试考得好不好啊? how did you do on your test? 有没有拿到大红花 did you get the big red flower? 老师夸我是个乖仔啊 my teacher said i was a good kid 奶奶自己保重圣体吧 grandma, take care of yourself 长大了 出息了 要晓得回家 when you grow older and do big things, remember to come home 别忘了这里的青山和路弯 don't forget the green mountains and windy roads here 记得要带一瓶辣椒在身上 remember to bring with you a bottle of peppers 还时常跟妈妈报平安 and often let your mom know you're doing fine ... 房子旁两棵树都被砍掉了 the two trees by our house have been cut off 墙上还贴着小时候的奖状 my childhood awards are still plastered on the walls 一个字一个字 好像昨天啊 each word, each word, like it was just yesterday 宝贝儿子啊 吃饭了 son, it's time for dinner 再不回家妈妈要教训你了 if you don't come home now, mom's going to be mad 这个淘气的孩子跑去那里玩了 this mischievous kid, where did he go? 找他都找不到人了 i'm looking for him, but i can't find him.
一荤一素 by 毛不易
一张小方桌 有一荤一素 a small, square table with one vegetable and one meat 一个身影从容地忙忙碌碌 a figure good-naturedly bustling about 一双手让这时光有了温度 a pair of hands allowed this time some warmth 太年轻的人 他总是不满足 the one who is too young, he's not satisfied 固执地不愿停下 远行的脚步 stubbornly unwillingly to stop the footsteps traveling far away 望着高高的天��了长长的路 looking at the far, far sky; walking a long, long road 忘了回头看 她有没有哭 he forgot to turn around to see if she's crying 月儿明 风儿轻 >the moon is clear, the wind is light 可是你在敲打我的窗棂 is it you, knocking on my window? 听到这儿你就别担心 now that you've listened till here, please don't worry 其实我过的还可以 actually, i'm doing okay ... 你又可曾来过我的梦里 have you been to my dreams lately? 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 知道我睡得轻 knowing that i sleep lightly 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 怕我再想起你 afraid i'll miss you
父亲 by 筷子兄弟
时光时光慢些吧不要再让你变老了 time, time, please slow down. don't let you grow any older 我愿用我一切换你岁月长留<<br>i'm willing to trade everything i have for more years and months for you ... 微不足道的关心收下吧 please accept my inadequate care for you 谢谢你做的一切双手撑起我们的家 thank you for holding up our family with your hands 总是竭尽所有把最好的给我 always doing everything to give me the best ... 我是你的骄傲吗还在为我而担心吗 am i your pride? do you still worry for me? 你牵挂的孩子啊长大啦 the child you think of has grown up now.
时间都去哪了 by 王铮亮 (this is a cover)
时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好感受年轻就老了 haven't even truly experienced youth, and i'm already old 生儿养女 一辈子 took care of children my entire lfe 满脑子都是孩子哭了笑了 all i can hear is the cries and laughter of children 时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好看看你眼睛就花了 haven't even looked at you carefully yet, and my vision is already blurring
if only... by ozi
如果可以把時間退後 if i can rewind time 別讓命運把妳給帶走 i won't let fate take you away 對妳能說著我最近做些什麼 i want to be able to tell you what i've been doing these days 希望別再錯過 i hope i won't miss it again 如果可以讓我跟她說 if only i can just tell her 願意付出我所有為了 i'm willing to trade everything i have 能換一點時間just to see you again for a little time just to see you again 別再擔心著我 so you don't have to worry about me anymore
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