Daily 12

(…) take a title from another writer in the comments and let it lead you somewhere unexpected.

Title chosen: i know what it looks like (but we're not in love)

Notes: So I finished re-reading Don't Let the Forest In today and the Andrew-Dove-Thomas dynamic is forever stuck in my head. I tried to do something like that and unfortunately, I ruined it. Anyway excuse my lazy naming I should be asleep.

Word count: 295 words

⇾ ▫ ♜ ▫ ⇽

Dear Jane,

Twelve years ago on a playground, there was you and there was Jake. It had always been that way until I came barrelling in—then two turned into three and that was how it’d be for the next twelve years. Three is a magic number. Best friends forever, inseparable.
We fought for the first time yesterday.

Jake and I have never felt so lost. We don’t fight. We bicker and we argue and we snap at each other and tomorrow it’ll be okay even though we never say a word about it.

Something tells me tomorrow won’t be okay until we talk about what really happened. The problem is, I don’t know where to start.

Oh Jane, my darling Jane. You and I would give up the world for your brother. I would never hurt him. I couldn’t ever hurt him. His heart is made of far stronger stuff than whatever I could wield against it.

My precious Jane, my bit-of-magic-on-earth—why would the two of us ever leave you out? There is no me without you. And there is no you without Jake. Inseparable, do you remember? A triangle is the strongest shape, and it is meaningless without all its points.

Jane, my dearest Jane. We’re not in love, Jake and I. We never have been.

Three truths I’ve told you. That should be enough to absolve me of my guilt. But I haven’t told you the entire truth, have I?

You’re the most brilliant person I know, Jane. I’ve given away my fragile heart, wrapped in gold and all things beautiful. And now you know that Jake never had it.

Put me out of my misery, my lovely Jane. My heart will survive whatever you choose to do with it.

Yours.

Daily 13

Falling back to one of our favorite classics of intrigue and vintage beauty, write 350 words of a story utilizing flowers and their meanings, weaving in at least 3 different blossoms (…)

Notes: Hoo boy have I got to stop speedrunning my dailies. Why, this is practically nonsensical! If you're reading through these notes, please believe that I have every intention of rectifying my sleep schedule here on out. Flowers chosen are all mentioned clearly in the piece, so I won't clarify that here.

Word count: 353 words

⇾ ▫ ♜ ▫ ⇽

Star shaped, odd blue with five perfect petals. Borages, whisper a voice in your mind.

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

The flowers. Borages. Symbolizing bluntness. You know what you must do.

You stare at the flowers growing from the cracks in the pavement in front of you. You wonder if they’re even native to this place. You wonder if they were even there before you leaned down to take a closer look.

“Bluntness, huh?”

Truth. Honesty, no matter the cost.

“I think this is pointless. I’m going to go.”

The borages (what a weird name, really) wilt and wither away. You start to move when you hear it: wait.

Out of the crack in the pavement, there’s a flurry of impossible growth. Barely a second passes before you see the flowers unfurl their petals. Thin strands of all colors sticking out from the center, like a child’s drawing.

You step over them. Vines grow rapidly until they block your path. You can’t make your way around them, no matter how hard you try.

“Advice?” you sigh.

Ice plants. Heartless.

“Accusation, or command?”

Request.

“I don’t think it counts as a request if I can’t even refuse,” you scoff.

A simpler truth?

“Fine!” You rip out the flowers by their roots. “I hate this.”

Three simple words. That should suffice. Again, the flowers wilt into dust in your hands. The vines creep away in a rush until it seems like they had never been there at all. You take a step, until again, almost apologetic: there’s more.

You groan as a plant springs up where the flowers were. Ugly little pods, like miniature hedgehogs. Like pinecones.

Xanthium. Rudeness. A gift.

“For what?”

Another plant shoots up. You roll your eyes. “Is the flower talk really necessary? Or can they just send messages like normal people do?”

It adds to the drama factor. Sweet pea. Remembrance.

“What is that supposed to mean? A gift so I can remember to be rude?”

That is not what remembrance traditionally means. In this case, perhaps.

“Can I finally go now?” you say exaggeratedly.

No reply. Finally.

Weekly 3

Total word count:

• Part 1: 421 words
  
• Part 2: 460 words
  
• Part 3: 557 words
  
• Part 4: 831 words
  

⇾ ▫ ♜ ▫ ⇽

Part 1:

Dead Wife Haunting the Narrative
Okay, sometimes it’s just a dead girl who isn’t even a wife, sometimes it’s not even a girl, and sometimes they’re not even dead. It’s a trope that can be very compelling if done right, and tragically, it isn’t always done right. While it can contribute to a fascinating character backstory, the “Dead Wife” in question often ends up as a plot device with nothing else going for them. If you never know why the Dead Wife leaves such a gaping wide hole in the characters’ lives, THEN WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT!!!!!

Found Family
Delicious, scrumptious, 10/10 no notes. Sometimes canon splits up the characters towards the end of the story or it just straight-up doesn’t explore the possibility, which is SAD and TRAGIC but that’s why we have fanfiction, I guess! On the other hand, sometimes the author tries too hard to convince us that the characters are a found family, which is also SAD and TRAGIC because on one hand, so compelling! But on the other hand: the chemistry just isn’t there.

Love Triangles
Yeah, the traditional ones got boring real quick BUT there are so many fun alternatives to explore here!! Maybe the “rivals” fall in love and then run off into the sunset together! Or maybe they scheme together to get the third to fall in love with them! Maybe none of them fall in love at all because they realize they were just pandering to comphet and then proceed to become crazy cat people!!! THE UNIVERSE IS WIDE OPEN AND WAITING.

Crash-Into Hello
There are so many variations of this that it’s practically impossible to create a proper pro/con list for it. There’s arguably nothing very romantic about a possible concussion, though I suppose that if they help each other pick things up there’s something charming about the simple kindness of the act. This trope has been overused to the point of no return, though. There’s only so many times you can see it before you inevitably start getting bored.

The Reinforcements Arrive in the Nick Of Time
Okay, YES, it’s a very blatant deus ex machina and you could argue that it’s just lazy writing, but like COME ON. It’s so COOL. And EPIC. Is there anything more satisfying than a dramatic lineup of the forces of good just when the battle seems to be hopeless? Personally I’ve come to find that I quite enjoy this trope, even though there’s always a “of COURSE they show up now” moment.

⇾ ▫ ♜ ▫ ⇽

Part 2:

School hallways are definitely the bane of my existence. Dante was wrong about the nine circles of hell. Narrow crowded public places should one hundred percent qualify as hellish material. Apart from the fact that it gets disgustingly humid and full of litter and things falling out of lockers and (if you’re particularly unlucky), some or the other obnoxious teenager yelling about some or the other obnoxious thing.

The fact that I am also, by definition, an obnoxious teenager, is irrelevant. I have main character privilege here. I’m convinced of it. There’s something sinister going on behind the scenes here—I only hope I’ll be in time to uncover it all.

Anyway. Back to the situation at hand. I weave through the crowd, ducking under wayward arms and careening sideways into lockers to avoid having to touch anyone particularly sweaty. At one harrowing moment I have to flatten myself against a wall (gross) in order to avoid being accidentally punched in the face. I’m doing it. I’m actually succeeding. Running through crowded hallways is an extreme sport and honey, I’m an Olympic medalist. No one can stop me. I’m on top of the world!

I am knocked to the floor and the breath leaves me in a rush. I stare at the ceiling. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This cannot be happening.

I have worked so hard to avoid it. I did everything. I attended three separate gymnastics classes so I’d never be caught unaware. My reflexes should’ve been as sharp as a knife. And yet they failed me. Right when I needed them the most, they abandoned me. I have been forsaken by my own efforts, betrayed by my own body.

I have been crashed into. In a school hallway. Completely by accident.

Dread curls in my stomach.

The worst part about being accidentally teleported to what is essentially romcom land is that there is a trope around every corner. Despite all my efforts to avoid it, I seem to have stumbled into mine after all.

Distraught, I heave myself off the floor. I stare at the guy in front of me warily. Surprisingly enough, he looks just the same.

“I am not falling in love with you,” he says, horrified. Okay, wow. That’s kind of insulting. At least he didn’t inflect on the word you. That would’ve been mortifying.

I laugh hysterically. “Yeah, you’re no treat either, bud.”

He visibly panics. “It’s not about you! Wait, no, that sounds wrong too—I just—”

“I get it,” I blurt out. “Me neither. Friends?” I hold out my hand for a handshake, mostly to keep him from babbling. He sags in relief. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

And then we never see each other again. The end.

⇾ ▫ ♜ ▫ ⇽

Part 3:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Okay, well, it was just cloudy. And it was barely drizzling. So yes, not entirely the kind of atmosphere one would expect. Definitely not as dramatic as it should have been. At least it was night, though. All good, properly dramatic things happen at night anyway.

Percy (short for Perseus, after the Greek hero with one of the arguably less tragic endings) Jackson ran home with his jacket held over his head, hoping to avoid any more raindrops than necessary. Of course, avoiding the rain entirely was impossible. If his calculations were correct (they rarely weren’t), the moment he’d been waiting for would happen today. And for that, he’d have to be tastefully yet lightly drenched. His hair was sufficiently wet already, so he pulled his jacket tighter and ran faster. Any more rain and he’d just end up looking like a drowned rat, and he couldn’t have that happening on his big day.

He yanked open his door and stumbled inside, trying to present as nonchalant as an air he could manage. He needed to fool the forces into thinking things were completely normal, because if they suspected that he knew, the whole thing would probably fall apart. He couldn’t have his feeling of wrongness until he’d dried off a little. It was a pity that he couldn’t use his powers to dry off, because he wasn’t supposed to have discovered them and also, he needed to undergo the proper training montage. On the bright side, since he already knew about them, he could probably pull off a neat “supernaturally good at water manipulation with barely even training” sort of shtick. He had a feeling he’d need it.

Gabe was out, thankfully, but his mother was humming in the kitchen. She didn’t show any outward signs of her suspicions, but Percy knew that she had reached the same conclusion as he had.

“We can go to Montauk,” she says, all casual. “Just the two of us, our own little vacation!”

Percy grinned back. He loved scheming with his mom.

It wasn’t until Grover stumbled in that he started to feel a growing sense of dread. Because Grover wasn’t arriving in a halo of glory, gracefully shedding his disguise to reveal his satyr nature and Percy’s (rather obvious) chosen one status. Grover was crashing haphazardly into the scene, eyes wide and panicked.

“Why do you have goat feet?” asked Percy, baffled. Because Grover wasn’t supposed to have goat feet, not yet. There was supposed to be a monologue. With a sinking feeling, Percy realized that maybe, just maybe, their calculations had gone awry after all.

It was really a dark and stormy night, now. The forces were converging on them, despite how fast they were going in their car. “Mom?”

Sally Jackson, brilliant woman that she was, seemed to have already figured out the Fates’ plans.

“Sacrifice,” she said grimly.

“So soon?” Percy asked, his voice cracking.

His mom softened, reaching out blindly to hold his face in her hand. “It’ll be okay. We already suspected this would happen, you know how narrative forces work.”

“I’m not ready,” said Percy.

“They rarely are,” his mom said, smiling sadly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Percy wakes up the next morning inside the camp barriers, freshly mother-less and officially a demigod.

⇾ ▫ ♜ ▫ ⇽

Part 4:

Once upon a time, in a faraway ivory tower lined with vines and flowers, there lived a princess. Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the princess was trapped there. It is quite disheartening to use such a strong word so early in the story, but I’m afraid it is true. She had every possible comfort in that tower, though how such comforts were provided in such an isolated place remains to be seen. Many suspect that the witch (yes, a witch. Very rarely is it anyone else imprisoning young princesses) who imprisoned the princess there had a deal with some sort of magical faerie-like race, or maybe even elves or pixies. But of course, this is all common knowledge, and so let us flit away and skip to the juicier, more interesting parts.

As I’m sure many of you have come to suspect, the princess harbored a deep, secret desire to escape the ivory tower and yet never made and move to do so. It does seem baffling, does it not? Most princesses manage a rope ladder made of bedsheets within days (sometimes hours) of their imprisonment, and yet this princess, who had spent her entire life stuck in this tower, had never even thought of it. But we must not blame her too harshly, dear readers—how many times have you planned entire scenarios that you never worked towards making true?

As fate (or rather, narrative laws that govern fantasy universes) would have it, soon someone would come along to steal her away from her secluded ivory tower, and in doing so, rescue her. Two someones, curiously enough—though I suppose even stories of this kind require variety every now and then.

The first was a soldier. He had a kind smile, a bold heart. Always quick with a joke, always willing to strike up a new friendship. He was, by all means, the picture of what a True Hero ought to be. But alas! His luck was quite against him. He went to bed one night having set up camp with the rest of his company, only for the troops to be attacked by bandits in the dead of the night. It was a fierce battle—though how a group of uncoordinated bandits managed to hold their own against an entire regiment of trained soilders remains to be determined. Our poor soldier was wounded and left for dead by his company. And now, dear readers, you may unleash the judgement I had asked for us to withhold in the princess’s case. Such lousy training of an entire troop of soldiers is quite foreboding for the country’s safety.

The second rescuer turned out to be a thief, and I am very sorry to say that she had no sense of morality whatsoever. She was roguish and cunning, and yes, exeptionally charming. One learns to expect a tragic backstory when they encounter a character such as hers, but she her upbringing was quite happy indeed, loose morality aside. Thievery was an inherited art, and her family was one of the best. Funnily enough, she’d been hired by the troop of bandits for their attack on the soldiers, and she too had been left for dead. Fate is a funny thing, is it not?

And so, the soldier and the thief, unbeknownst to each other, made their way to the ivory tower. Something compelled them to scale up its walls, and climbing in through windows set in opposite walls, they were confronted with each other and a child.

Yes, a child. Didn’t I mention that before? The princess was hardly thirteen, for heaven’s sake. I did say that we oughtn’t to judge her too harshly.

Anyhow, the three of them went through many trials and adventures while trying to reunite the princess with her family. At least, the thief and the soldier were keen on reuniting the primcess with her family. She was simultaneously wild and sheltered; one has to admit it is quite a headache to keep track of. As far as the princess was concerned, she was having the time of her life like one of the characters from her storybooks.

Eventually, all adventures come to an end, and this one was no different. There were some disappointments—the thief was sentenced to death, the soldier was to be put on trial for treason, and the princess found herself quite unwelcome by her parents indeed. I am sorry to say that the king and queen were shallow folk who were more than happy to trade away their firstborn to a witch in exchange for prosperity—they reasoned that they could always have more.

But there were happy moments too, like the princess befriending her way past the guards (the soldier taught her that) and stealing the keys to the prison cells (the thief taught her that) and the three of them disappearing into the sunset—their own makeshift little family—to have many more adventures together. All in all, not a bad ending!

Capitolcom News ✓ @CCNews
OBJECTION! Phoenix Wright slams prosecution with the bold claim that the witness is secretly a shape-shifting alien committing identity theft, and that the allegations against his client were false. Read all about it in our latest article! https://totallylegitnews.com/xJ28e7
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Peeta Mellark @breadboy
Replying to @CCNews
@PhoenixWright from one bluffer to another, that was impressive. Maybe we should meet up and exchange tips sometime ;)
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Phoenix Wright @PhoenixWright
Replying to @CCNews, @breadboy
Exchanging trade secrets is more of a third date conversation, but I'm up for it if you are! ;)



gimme food or i riot @mysticalmaya
WHY IS MY BOSS FLIRTING WITH PEETA MELLARK ON THE TL??????????????

#1 Everlark Shipper @everlark5ever
ASKLDCJASKLDJCASLKDJSALKDJASLKJ

sheila ♥ @whatsmyname
this was NOT on my courtroom drama bingo



Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
If anyone requires my presence I shall be rotting at the bottom of a very steep cliff. Farewell, world.
This tweet has been deleted.


i just wanna be part of your symphony @DollFinn
posting this three minutes after phoenix wright responds to peeta mellark,,,,, miles edgeworth i know what you are



Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Apologies for my previous post and for the distress it may have caused. For those of you who have expressed concern for my wellbeing, I assure you I am fine. If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health, help is available at https://totallylegitlink.com

KABOOM! @lysosomebelike
Replying to @MilesEdgeworth
NOT THE PR DAMAGE CONTROL TWEET



Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
I am legally obliged to say that Peeta and I are still happily married. The conspiracy theorists need to tone it down.
|
Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
but let's be so fr here i started a rebellion who even cares about legal obligations PEETA GO GET YO MAN



Kermit the Frog ✓ @KermitTheFrog
Hi-ho! I’m here today to congratulate @breadboy and @PhoenixWright on their new relationship, and you should go and do that too!
If you ask me, Peeta could’ve done better with a certain amphibian…but that’s neither here nor there.
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Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @KermitTheFrog
It seems we are like-minded in that regard.
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Kermit the Frog ✓ @KermitTheFrog
Replying to @MilesEdgeworth
Bold words, Edgeworth! Feelings can sure be hard. Don’t worry, I still think you’re remarkable—and you should too! ♥
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Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @KermitTheFrog
Thank you, Kermit. ♥



amogus @yusosus
Replying to @MilesEdgeworth, @KermitTheFrog
KERMIT THE FROG???????

sheila ♥ whatsmyname
Replying to MilesEdgeworth, KermitTheFrog
i repeat, this was NOT on my courtroom drama bingo!!!!



princess-glittersparkles

big day for gay lawyer shippers today. just not how you’d expect

314 notes



amy needs a break @amyboid
GUYS.
[Grainy, poor-quality picture of Miles Edgeworth and Kermit the Frog eating ice cream on a park bench. Kermit looks remarkably dapper in a stylish sweater and slacks. Edgeworth is seated primly, dressed in his usual infernal red suit with the frilly white collar.]

Akira @bikeslide
Replying to @amyboid
THEY’RE ON A DATE??????



Akira @bikeslide
Miles Edgeworth how does it feel to be the luckiest man alive.
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Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @bikeslide
Quite fulfilling, actually. Kermit is a lovely amphibian.
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Kermit the Frog ✓ @KermitTheFrog
Replying to @bikeslide, @MilesEdgeworth
Awww. You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Lawyerman! ♥
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Akira @bikeslide
Replying to @KermitTheFrog, @MilesEdgeworth
HELP??>>????



bluffmaster6000

You guys will NOT believe what’s going on in the courtroom drama fandom


[Image ID: Destiel confession meme. The text below Dean’s face has been edited to read: MILES EDGEWORTH IS DATING KERMIT IN RETALIATION FOR PEETA MELLARK ASKING PHOENIX WRIGHT OUT.]

#you guys. #calling it now this is officially the craziest timeline #i’m lowkey convinced maya just hacked into phoenix’s account and it spiralled from there #not that im complaining #if god hates gays then why do we keep winning

36,459 notes



Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
date night! oh and i’m here too ig but that’s okay i’ll clear out now
[Picture of an (ostensibly) romantic candlelit dinner—the silhouettes of Phoenix and Peeta sitting across from each other.]


amy needs a break @amyboid
Replying to @mockingjay
@everlark5ever so sorry to break it to you hon
|
I am a broken woman @everlark5ever
Replying to @mockingjay, @amyboid
JUST BECAUSE I STOLE ONE COOKIE DOESN’T MEAN YOU RETALIATE WITH HEARTBREAKING NEWS, AMY


i just wanna be part of your symphony @DollFinn
Replying to @mockingjay
WOW OKAY NOT EVEN A NO HOMO ONLY BROMO STAGE????



Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @mockingjay
Is this why you asked me to send three dozen roses to your address?
|
Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
Replying to @MilesEdgeworth
no those were for me now go smooch your frog boytoy



Phoenix Wright @PhoenixWright
Replying to @mockingjay
Katniss please this is twitter the public is watching
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
Replying to @PhoenixWright
do you see that? fire is catching
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Peeta Mellark @breadboy
Replying to @mockingjay, @PhoenixWright
You can’t just quote yourself every time someone tries to argue with you, Katniss.
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
Replying to @breadboy, @PhoenixWright
Watch me.



r/relationshipadvice

↑ 3.8k • Posted by u/throwawayturnabout 5 days ago

I might have messed things up with my best friend forever because of my new relationship. HELP.

Soooo I’ve recently started dating this guy (call him Peter). I should probably clarify that said guy is married, but we discussed it with his wife before we started seeing each other and we’re all okay with it. Maybe it’s unconventional, but we’re happy with the arrangement. But that’s not the main problem here.

The thing is, ever since Peter and I started seeing each other, my best friend (Greg from now on, for convenience) has been acting…well. Weird? I don’t really know how to describe it. We’re fine one minute, but whenever I make even a passing mention of Peter, Greg gets all defensive and huffy? Sure, he’s always like that, but it feels more noticeable. Whenever I try to confront him about it, he points out that I’ve been acting similarly about his boyfriend which?????? I mean, the guy’s fine, I just think Greg could do a lot better than him. Besides, Greg’s boyfriend is like, suspiciously nice. I think he’s hiding something.

Read more v


overthegaybow ↑ 3.8k • 5 days ago
OP idk how to break this to you but i think you’re both just really gay for each other

throwawayturnabout ↑ 1.5k • 4 days ago
WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT??


gumonshoe ↓ 13 • 1 day ago
op you sound like phoenix wright lol

throwawayturnabout ↓ 17 • 1 day ago
I don’t even know who that is



Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Happy birthday, @KermitTheFrog ♥
|
Phoenix Wright @PhoenixWright
Replying to @MilesEdgeworth
You’ve never wished me a happy birthday?????
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Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @PhoenixWright
You've never been my boyfriend.


Reac Shen @riacshen038
WOAH OKAY SHOTS FIRED



1-20 of 38 works in Miles Edgeworth/Kermit the Frog




salami @salolee
HOW IS THERE ALREADY MILES EDGEWEORHT/KERMIT FSNFIC


Lucinda-Anne @annluci
Replying to @salolee
Okay I’m curious now what even is their ship name





Summary:

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her
But if you're single, that's honestly worse
'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts


Notes:

Hi. I crashed into a tree because my friend called me with the news while I was driving. I am now in the hospital with 12 stitches. Anyway have some Frogworth fluff




i didn’t lie @whyjuly
THE DEVIL WORKS HARD BUT FANFIC WRITERS WORK HARDER
[Screenshot of the aforementioned fanfiction on Archive of Our Own.]



potatobasketcouch

Imagine you go through hell but you manage to survive it even though the odds were against you. Now you and your wife are happily married and you’ve finally found some semblance of peace and you finally get to stay out of the media and it’s quiet. It’s nice. Except one day you’re bored so you flirt with some guy online, and then he flirts back, and now you’re both dating and your wife is incredibly supportive of it even though you suspect it’s only because she loves the chaos of it. But it turns out the guy’s stuck in a homoerotic friendship with his literal sworn enemy. Said literal sworn enemy seems less than happy about your blossoming relationship, and you might start feeling guilty, except the sworn enemy then starts going out with a frog and now your boyfriend’s all mopey about it. Also you’re back in the media spotlight again. Well it happened to my good friend Peeta Mellark.

#i’d say people need to leave him alone #but at this point he’s practically asking for it #i need to study him under a microscope #why does he do the things he does

3,800 notes



MissPiggy ✓✓✓✓✓✓✓ @MissPiggy
People need to stop asking moi about how I feel about Kermit's dalliance with Mr. Edgeworth and start asking @colesprouse when he's going to send the flowers he promised moi
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avery @riskygambles
Replying to @MissPiggy
Yes Miss Piggy, sorry Miss Piggy.



seventyyearsofsleep reblogged bananasplits


lesbianedgeworthagenda

predictions for the new year:

• some famous pop star is revealed to be a part of a cult
  
• one of my beloved mutuals posts something so brave yet controversial that i am forced to cut ties with them in a heartbreaking scene while my motif plays in minor key
  
• ponyville polycule canon
  
• phoenix wright gets sick of waiting for miles edgeworth to ask him out so he starts dating like. peeta mellark or something
  
• new doritos flavor is launched and immediately discontinued within the next five days. it is never explained again
  

lesbianedgeworthagenda
why did this suddenly get 3k notes overnight guys im scared



lesbianedgeworthagenda
oh my gosh. this is not happening no no no nO-



whozier

[Image ID: picture of a bewildered cat being held down. The caption reads ‘YOU’]



lesbianedgeworthagenda

I’M SO SORRY GUYS I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THIS I SWEAR



primrose-qardens

get dodgeballed, idiot


[Image ID: Apollo holding a red dodgeball. The dodgeball represents the gift of prophecy.]

#op I fear that YOU’VE become the mutual from your first prediction #also please never make any major prophecies ever again thank you



Phoenix Wright @PhoenixWright
Cooking breakfast for my beautiful boyfriend!


Peeta Mellark @breadboy
Nothing screams date-able behavior more than a little fire-based trauma flashback in the morning, I guess
|
gimme food or i riot @mysticalmaya
Replying to @breadboy
ohmygosh @mockingjay why would you even let him in the kitchen
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
Replying to @mysticalmaya, breadboy
I THOUGHT IT WAS SWEET AND ROMANTIC HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HE'D SET THE KITCHEN ON FIRE


I am a broken woman @everlark5ever
Replying to @breadboy
…breakup arc?



Capitolcom News ✓ @CCNews
Phoenix Wright confirms breakup with Peeta Mellark in a recent interview following his latest case. “It just wasn’t working out, but we’re still on amicable terms.”
|
amy SERIOUSLY needs a break @amyboid
Replying to @CCNews
@everlark5ever MY BELOVED OOMF WHY WOULD YOU MANIFEST THIS
|
WE’RE BACK BABYYYYYYY @everlark5ever
Replying to @CCNews, @amyboid
I DIND”T KNOW THIS WOULD HAPPEN PKAY



Kermit the Frog ✓ @KermitTheFrog
Now that sure was a flipper-flipping twist! In related news, @PhoenixWright Miles is free and available if you’re willing.
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Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @KermitTheFrog
@breadboy Kermit is also free and available if you’re willing.



Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
@MilesEdgeworth pick up milk and eggs on your way here plz thanks
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
also the cat food buttercup likes not the tuna flavored onw the one that smwlls like sour milk
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
@MilesEdgeworth please
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
@MilesEdgeworth @MilesEdgeworth thanks
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Miles Edgeworth @MilesEdgeworth
Replying to @mockingjay
…
Fine.
Why here, though? And why not ask Wright instead?
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Katniss Everdeen @mockingjay
Replying to @MilesEdgeworth
phoneix would just forget and i have to hit my post quota for the month sonrhow thanjs miles ur a lifesaver


doug a deep hole @heyitsdoug
and so katniss everdeen continues to serve the people by giving them what they want…….even if it’s just an excuse to hit her post quota……..truly the woman of all time……
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gimme food or i riot @mysticalmaya
Replying to @heyitsdoug
amen to that!



HI X I’M DAD @reccalol
Yeah, I think that’s about as good as an ending we’ll get.

FIN.

Explanation for the Apollo dodgeball meme: it's basically a reference to another meme where a girl (captioned “Apollo”) is throwing a red dodgeball (labelled “the gift of prophecy”) at a group of kids (representing “random internet users trying to be funny”)

Read my author's note here! It's very silly.

This piece was born out of a very simple question. When I heard that my good friend Elfie was judging this session, I immediately thought: what is the single most cringeworthy thing I can write, that he'd have to read and judge as an actual work of literature? Of course, this meant Ave and Fi would also be subjected to any insanity I cooked up, but that was a risk I was willing to take.

Sadly, the only remotely crazy enough crackships I could come up with involved dead philosophers and possibly very butch women. And I didn't know enough about either of those. Thus ended my arduous search for a fandom that was suitably very cringeworthy for Elfie specifically. I could now only write something that no one save myself found completely hilarious.

Okay, that's an exaggeration! I decided to talk to Sun who sent me one six-ish minute video that very possibly changed my life. Yes, it was on crackships. Did you know there's a Donald Duck/Pythagoras fanfiction? Or an Edward Cullen/Microsoft Excel, somewhere out in the depths of AO3? Yeah, I didn't either. Anyway, I typed up the first few tweets and sent them to Sun as a joke.

This, dear readers, was a mistake. Because I spent WAY too much time formatting it properly. And I spent WAY too much time trying to come up with suitably punny usernames. And this was SO MUCH time spent that I decided I simply had to make those three fake tweets my entire fic. Out of spite because it took me so much time, naturally.

I'm very, very grateful to Sun for entertaining all my “HEY WHAT IF I WROTE KNUCKLES MCGINTY/GORDON RAMSAY” type messages. For, when I threatened to change the main ship to Miles Edgeworth/Elmo, not saying “THAT'S CRAZY” but instead asking “how would that work.” Because that opened the door to a beautiful new dimension of silliness. I ended up switching out Elmo for Kermit based on the results of a poll, but I hope this will suffice!

Now, there's a lot of stuff here that makes no sense, even if by some miracle you know all three fandoms. (WHY DOES KATNISS HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA????? HOW DOES THE HUNGER GAMES FIT IN WITH ACE ATTORNEY????? WHY DOES PHOENIX EVEN HAVE AN ACCOUNT HE'S SUCH A BOOMER?????) Please feel free to ask me about them I would very much like to yap about it. Even if my answer boils down to “I actually don't know, lol.”

You wanna know what the hardest part of the fic is? No, not the formatting (though that was annoying enough to code). TYPOS. I spent more time mispelling words on purpose than I spent actually writing them. I actually considered asking Ris to type out a word or two for me as fast as possible, that's how desperate I was for a typo. Lowercase was excruciating because spellcheck kept auto-capitalizing them and I kept on hitting shift at the start of sentences myself. Basically: I worked REALLY hard to make the text as grammatically inaccurate as possible. Please acknowledge.

Huge shoutout to Ivory for providing me with a random Taylor Swift song when I jumpscared them asking for a random Taylor Swift song. Almost all fanfics use either Taylor Swift lyrics or incredibly niche indie-band-with-a-cult-following lyrics, so of course I had to comply.

Gosh, I have so much more I want to say about this! Like how I went through so many socmed fics to get the formatting I liked best. Or how Miss Piggy waiting for Cole Sprouse is an actual running gag on the official Miss Piggy twitter account. Or how gumonshoe from the reddit section is for Detective Gumshoe and that the number 38 popping up everywhere is homage to Larry, because that's exactly how much he owed Edgeworth for lunch. It feels like I've done more research on this than on actual schoolwork. But I think this is getting way too long anyway, so I'll wrap it up here XD

Final shoutout to Serrie, for finally getting me a copy of Ace Attorney. My life is so much better for it.

Back to the fic!

Daily 25

Your task is to write a 250 word description and create an aesthetic set for your brand new holiday!

Word count: 253 words

Aesthetic set: https://ibb.co/7d2KMWy5

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SLEEPYFEST is a holiday dedicated entirely to celebrating the wonderful phenomenon that is sleep. ZZZZZ. On this day, observers are advised to ZZZZZZZZZ. In fact, if you don’t (long, drawn-out yawn that lasts precisely 26 seconds) you will be—!

Asleep. On a pillow. In a comfy bed with a blanket, naturally. ZZZZZZ.

NO ONE. Is allowed to interrupt your peaceful slumber! The sleep paralysis demon? He gets paid leave today, actually. Insomnia? She’s on vacation with her family, she’s not going to show up tonight! SLEEPYFEST, in some regions, often lasts an entire week. ZZZZ. While non-stop sleeping is difficult to observe, it is considered a mark of honor. There are ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ competitions, as well as (long, drawn-out yawn that lasts precisely 37 seconds) races.

The holiday is often accompanied by themed decorations, such as comfy pajamas, as well as soothing chamomile tea for those who find it difficult to participate in the ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Furthermore, there are elaborate pillow-fort building activities within the observers of this holiday. String lights and blankets are sold in bundles in the weeks leading up to this holiday, as no festive occasion is truly free of the clutches of capitalism. Pillows are rampantly available on discount too.

Corporations are loath to admit the existence of this festival. Indeed, very many refuse to give paid leave for the occasion. That does not stop the general public on skipping work on SLEEPYFEST. Schools, however, are legally obliged to assign a weekend-long holiday, and students eagerly await it every year.

Weekly 4

Word count: 2469 words

Prompts (in order of appearance): (I'll fill this in later it's past midnight now and my atrocious naming is the least of my troubles T-T)

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“Hey. Hey, Brenda. What in the name boiled potatoes dipped in batter and grease and all things unholy is this?”

“I honestly have no idea, Jim. Maybe you should try to press the button?”

Jim eyes the button warily. “I don’t trust it, Brenda,” he hisses. “It looks suspicious. Like it’s going to blow up the world if I press it, or something.”

Brenda considers this. “Well, if that were the case, there should’ve been a DO NOT TOUCH sign,” she suggests, gesturing broadly. “Come on! Just give it a shot, it might be fun!”

They stare at the button a little longer.

“If anything bad happens, I’m blaming you,” says Jim.

“Fair enough,” nods Brenda. “I’d do the same. We should press it together, so it’s both of our faults and we can blame each other. On three.”

“Okay,” says Jim on an exhale. They hold out their hands next to each other, hovering above the button. Brenda starts counting down. On three, they slam their hands down together and scramble away rapidly.

The world explodes in glitter.

****

“Brenda?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“Why am I covered in glitter, Brenda?”

“Well, that’ll be the glitter explosion from the red button, Jim.”

Jim dusts off his hands before he tries to wipe off his face, only mostly succeeding in getting the glitter out of his eyes. He spits out a few sparkles, coughing. Brenda, who seems immune to basically everything, is already surveying the landscape around her.

“Alright then,” says Brenda decisively. “Where on banana split shrimp paste world are we?”

“We’re looking for Helen in a cave with a mysterious red button that, when pressed, covers us in glitter. Haven’t you been keeping up?”

“Oh, Jim,” sighs Brenda. “Take a look around, will you? We’re not in the cave anymore.”

“My eyes are covered in glitter, Brenda.”

Brenda huffs, pulling out her handkerchief. She scrubs relentlessly at Jim’s face despite his protests. “Better?”

“Why,” says Jim, baffled, “are we in a forest?”

“My guess? Teleportation. Helen probably pressed the button too.”

“Oh, Helen,” sighs Jim. He tries to bury his face in his (still glitter-covered) hands before Brenda slaps them away. “We really need to teach her some self-preservation skills.”

“How?” says Brenda, raising an eyebrow. “We literally just did the same thing as her.”

Jim wisely doesn’t argue. “Let’s just figure out how to get out of here.”

****

“PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TURN LEFT,” advises a mysterious VOICE.

“Was that a tree?”

“Yeah. That one,” says Brenda pointing.

“MUST YOU RUIN MY DRAMATIC ENTRANCE?” whines the VOICE—or the TREE, rather. “THE READERS DESERVED SOME SUSPENSE AND BUILDUP!”

“Readers?” echoes Jim.

“UNIMPORTANT,” booms the tree. “NOW TURN LEFT.”

“O’ Great Tree!” exclaims Brenda, clearly an expert on mollifying strange entities. “Pretty please will you give us directions to our young friend, Helen? We would follow your directions whole-heartedly, but we cannot leave without her!”

“HMM,” muses the tree. “PERHAPS LOOKING INTO MY MAGIC LEAVES WILL HELP.”

“Magic leaves!” exclaims Jim, managing to sound only slightly sarcastic. “Will you let us look into them, O’ Great Tree?”

“VERILY I WILL, FOR IT IS POINTLESS TO DENY THE INEVITABLE, AND YOUR JOURNEY MUST CONTINUE,” says the TREE. “YEET!”

An entire pile of leaves slams into their faces in a gust of wind. On the bright side, at least there’s less glitter now.

****

There’s a quick montage of images, flashing by far too quickly for Jim to register. Brenda, however, who is used to everything, seems to get the hang of it immediately. “I know where Helen is!” she exclaims. “Come on, Jim! Thank you, Mr. Tree!”

“MR. TREE WAS MY FATHER,” booms the TREE. “YOU MAY CALL ME O’ GREAT TREE.”

“Farewell, O’ GREAT TREE!” acquiesces Jim, as if they haven’t been calling the TREE that the entire time.

Brenda grabs his hand and drags him away, rushing through the forest at breakneck speed. “Come on!” she hollers.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” yells Jim.

“Positive!” replies Brenda cheerily, turning right onto what looks very much looks like the Very Wrong Way. “I have an excellent sense of direction!”

“I’m pretty sure we were supposed to take a left at the last turn there,” says Jim, exasperated. “Did you even watch the leaves properly?”

“Oh, relax a little, soldier boy,” crows Brenda. “We’re almost there!”

“WAIT,” yells Jim, digging in his heels and dragging her back. They stumble back together and fall onto the forest floor, gasping, not a moment too soon.

“I cannot believe,” says Jim, “that you almost threw us into a ditch.”

There’s no reply, which is disconcerting.

“Brenda?’

“I’m sorry,” she replies quietly.

Jim sighs. “Come on,” he says, picking himself up and dusting himself off. “Let’s just go slower this time.”

****

They pick their way through the forest, albeit going much slower this time. They consult each other at every other turn, but neither of them suggests going back to the great TREE for a recap on the directions, because the TREE seems suspicious—not to mention full of weird, irrelevant knowledge that seems to make no narrative sense whatsoever.

“I hope she’s alright,” sighs Jim after ten minutes of walking through a stretch of forest.

“Me too,” admits Brenda. “I know she can take care of herself, but she’s so prone to making mischief that it’s hard not to be worried.”

“She really has grown on us, hasn’t she?”

“Like a wildfire in a dry forest,” laughs Brenda.

So of course, the forest sets itself on fire. Swearing, the two of them start running, too panicked to keep track of where they’re going. It’s going to be such a pain trying to find their way back, but there’s no time to worry about that now.

They duck behind a rock, gasping. Jim peeks around to check how many more seconds they can afford for a break and gets hit in the face with a gust of hot air.

“We should move,” he says.

Brenda nods, trying to catch her breath before they start running again. “Alright,” she gasps. “Okay. Let’s go.”

****

The fire is getting closer, and they can’t seem to outrun it, no matter how hard they try. Are forest fires supposed to be this fast? It’s hard not to think that there isn’t some other driving force behind it.

Brenda and Jim leap over fallen logs that seem to get in their way out of nowhere. They crash unceremoniously through the undergrowth. “Are we ever going to stop?” gasps Brenda.

“How?” exclaims Jim. “We don’t know anything about this forest!”

“Maybe we should go back to someone who does.”

“I thought we agreed that the TREE was suspicious and untrustworthy!”

“Do we even have another choice?”

Groaning, Jim plants his feet and glances around for a few precious seconds. He picks a direction and starts running, Brenda hot on his heels. By some miracle, they manage to make their way back to the TREE.

“O’ GREAT TREE!” shrieks Brenda. “Will you protect us from the fire?”

“WHAT FIRE?” asks the TREE. And sure enough, they turn around to find no trace of the flames behind them.

“But it was right there!” protests Jim. “It nearly burnt off my hair! O’ Great Tree, what explanation do you have for this?”

Brenda grips his arm as they turn around to face the TREE—only to find no TREE at all. In its place, Helen grins back at them cheekily.

“GOTCHA, SUCKERS!” she says, voice high and childish once more. “That was fun!”

“Helen, what the—”

Jim elbows Brenda before she can finish. “Maybe you should start explaining,” he says, glaring at Helen disapprovingly.

****

“You guys saw the red button too, didn’t you?” says Helen, unperturbed. “Well I pressed it, and then there was this huge glitter explosion, it was so cool!”
Brenda, who has just found more glitter in three different places, grunts in disagreement.

“And then the glitter made everything weird and funny—it was like magic, really! And I think I saw into the future, because you guys were there, so I disguised myself as a tree and—”

“You did that on purpose?” says Jim, aghast.

“Wasn’t that hilarious?” laughs Helen.

“Helen, you nearly got us killed! And we were so worried about you,” says Brenda. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Helen wilts under their censure. “I thought it was fun,” she huffs, trying to hide her hurt. “But I guess it wasn’t.” She scuffs at the ground.

****

Brenda sighs. “Let’s just find a way out of the forest, yeah?”

“What? No way!” exclaims Helen. “Why in the name of thirteen thousand pineapple slices would I do that?”

“We can’t stay here forever, Helen,” tries Jim. “We’ve got to find a way back.”

“But it’s so fun here! I literally have magic now, in case you’ve forgotten,” says Helen, glaring at them and crossing her arms petulantly. “I don’t wanna go.”

“I thought you wanted to go find your parents,” says Brenda. “Come on, Helen, we can’t do that stuck in this forest—they’re not from this world.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to find them anymore!” snaps Helen. “Maybe I just want to stay here with you two. Think of it! Just the three of us, it’ll be perfect!”

Jim and Brenda glance at each other, the admission sitting heavily with them. Brenda sighs. “Maybe you’d be able to stay here, Helen,” she says softly. “But Jim and I wouldn’t last. And if we found a way to get out, we’d take it. And we couldn’t force you to leave with us, so we’d go without you.”

“Brenda,” hisses Jim.

Helen sniffs, swiping angrily at her tears. She takes a minute to compose herself, before lifting her head. “It’s alright, Jim,” she says. “I don’t think I like trees very much anyway.”

****

“Do you know which way we should go?” asks Jim gently.

“Nope,” says Helen, back to her cheery self. “It was just a bunch of glitter, and then poof! Here I am. It was probably the same for you two. Hey, do you think I can recreate that?”

“The glitter portal?” asks Brenda skeptically.

“THE GLITTER PORTAL,” confirms Helen with significantly more flair. “I don’t really know how the magic works, though. There wasn’t exactly a guidebook.”

“Well, how did you disguise yourself as a tree?” asks Jim.

“I just thought about it really hard. Do you think that’ll work for THE GLITTER PORTAL too?”

“It’s worth a shot,” says Brenda. “Maybe just picture a cloud of glitter carrying us away and dropping us somewhere back in our world. Let’s just pick the cave with the button, yeah, Helen?”

“I could probably take us further.”

“Best not to risk it,” says Jim. “Give it a shot.”

The world explodes in glitter.

****

“Ugh,” says Jim, coughing out more glitter. “We should’ve tried a different transportation method; I’m never going to be free of sparkles ever again.”

“I think it suits you,” grins Brenda. “It goes well with your broody charm.”

“Gross,” says Helen. “He doesn’t have broody charm, he’s pathetic.”

“Grow older and you might understand.”

“Double gross.”

“I am right here,” says Jim pointlessly. “I’m starting to wish Helen had managed to keep her magic, if only it could get rid of the glitter. There isn’t even anywhere to wash off around here.”

The world explodes in glitter. Again.

Blinking, the three of them find themselves near a stream.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” says Jim faintly.

“At least travelling will be quicker,” replies Helen, sounding slightly hysterical.

****

“How do you still have magic?” says Brenda, voice high and panicky.

“I have no idea! I thought I’d be rid of it! You’re the grown-up one here, maybe you should tell me.”

“Jim?”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” protests Jim. “I think we all need to just calm down—”

“Calm down? I can use glitter to teleport us anywhere!”

“You do not need to sound that gleeful about it, Helen,” snaps Brenda. “Speaking of glitter, why is there a large undulating mass of it in the sky?”

The three of them whip out to stare up.

“It’s spelling out something,” says Jim, master of stating the obvious.

“RELENQUISH THE MAGIC,” reads Helen, with faint surprise.

“You definitely need to teach me how to read sometime,” mutters Brenda. “Okay, how to we do that?”

“I’m not giving up my powers just because some unknown person tells me to!” shrieks Helen.

Jim gives her his best flat, disappointed look—the one that always worked best on new recruits.

“Oh, alright,” sighs Helen.

****

“Hey, I think the glitter’s spelling out something else,” says Brenda.

“SING THE MAGIC-RELINQUISHING SONG,” reads Jim haltingly. “How does that even go?”

Another flurry of movement in the sky. “TO BE SUNG TO THE TUNE OF WISHING WELL.”

“I don’t know how that goes!” yells Helen.

“JUST MAKE IT SOUND HEAVENLY,” reads the glitter.

Jim and Brenda wince. Helen is utterly incapable of sounding even remotely heavenly. “Is there an alternative?”

“FINE, JUST READ IT OUT IN A RHYTHMIC, MUSICAL WAY,” reads the glitter. Somehow the text looks exasperated. It rearranges again. “NOW SING THE FOLLOWING: BYE BYE MAGIC / FLY AWAY TO INFINITY AND BEYOND / SO THAT I AM FREE OF POWER / HOORAY AND YAYSIES.”

“That doesn’t sound musical,” says Helen.

“READ IT OR I DROP THE GLITTER MESSAGING TO KILL YOU,” reads the glitter. Effectively chastised, Helen begins to sing horribly off-key.

The world explodes in glitter. Again. This is really getting old.

****

“Okay, where are we now?” sighs Jim as he wipes out the glitter from his eyes for the third time.

“Um, Jim? You might wanna keep your eyes closed for this one,” says Brenda. He can practically hear the wince in her voice.

“How bad is it?” he asks grimly.

“Well, it really depends on your definition of good,” says Helen. She sounds very cheerful, which is never a good sign. “It’s practically paradise for me, but I think you’ll find quite a lot of reason to disagree because you’re old and stinky and boring.”

“I’m not stinky!” gasps Jim, offended. He almost misses the old comment. “Wait, how old do you think I am?”

“I dunno, sixty?” says Helen. Brenda snickers, so Jim makes it a point to ask: “And how old do you think Brenda is?” to which he gets the extremely satisfying reply of “Sixty-five.”

“Okay, I’m going to look now,” says Jim, opening his eyes warily.

He buries his head in his hands, and Brenda doesn’t even bother trying to stop him.

They’re in a cave filled completely to the brim with glitter.

This is the exact opposite of Jim’s comfort zone.

Daily 30

Write 500 words about what you would do and how you would if it’s your birthday every day.

Word count: 505 words

Notes: My, this was fun! I didn't expect it to end up like this when I started writing but somewhere along the third paragraph I started considering Implications and while it's not the kind of piece I'll cherish forever, I'm rather delighted with how it turned out :D

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If it were my birthday everyday, I would one hundred percent exploit the birthday card all the time, whenever I could. I’d be downright insufferable about it. People would get sick of me exploiting the birthday card to get them to do whatever I wanted so much, it’d be glorious. Get me a book every day for my birthday. Take me to the library. Download an entire databases’ worth of movies. Take me to a concert. Get me out of school. Buy me a pretty dress. And so on and so forth, depending on whatever catches my fancy on whatever day it is.

I don’t think I should ever get anything done at all—I tend to be very lenient with the breaks I give myself, especially when it’s some sort of special day. I’d procrastinate so hard I’d be procrastinating on procrastination, as impossible as that may be. I’d sleep the whole day if I could—I’m sure I would. It’s extraordinarily tempting to treat yourself when you have a viable excuse, and I think I have never quite been able to resist the temptation to just…put it off for later. Enjoy doing everything apart from what I should arguably actually be doing.

Of course, at one point, I would start wondering about the strange nature of this birthday. Surely it cannot last forever, a birthday everyday. One is not simply born everyday. Reborn, reshaped, sure, but not true birth, not the kind that would warrant a birthday. The logic doesn’t work out. The only conclusion, therefore, becomes a time loop. Okay, it’s not the only conclusion, but it’s the easiest one, and as of now, the most compelling. The best part about time loops, though, is that eventually everything is erased. I could do anything—anything at all—and I would never have to deal with the consequences.

My, isn’t that compelling? An infinity of no consequences. How incredibly like Emily Hornby from The Do-Over, by Lynn Painter. She decides to have her fun with the lack of consequences; I think I would too. Maybe I’d spend one of my birthdays being unabashedly, incredibly rude. Wouldn’t that be nice? Getting out all that rage? It is, after all, my birthday. I deserve to do what I want, don’t I? I could tell people what I really feel (it’s my birthday!) and if it hurt their feelings, well, that’s okay! They won’t remember today.

I wonder if I’d ever get bored of an eternity of doing whatever I want. I’m sure I would, at some point. But there’s no telling what’ll happen if the loop breaks. What if everyone remembers them too? What if they don’t? What if they only remember the worst loops? And when it’s not my birthday anymore, I’ll have to go back to trudging drearily through the everyday, over and over again. Another time loop entirely of my own making. Why would I ever do that? No, I think I’ll have my fun. Until then, well, happy birthday to me!