MYLODY ☁︎ she | her · i write xreader stories :)
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taylor price
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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DEAR READER

⁂
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Origami Around

JVL
will byers stan first human second
occasionally subtle

if i look back, i am lost

Andulka

★
Cosmic Funnies
Xuebing Du

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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Love Begins

Kiana Khansmith

seen from Philippines

seen from Japan

seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from United States

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seen from Malaysia
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@mylodies
MYLODY ☁︎ she | her · i write xreader stories :)
quotev · wattpad · ao3 · pinterest
masterlist.com ᢉ𐭩
☁︎.. HTMLovers.com/chapter06
header photo © 2012 Nintendo Style Savvy: Trendsetters
previous · HTMLovers.com · next
It’s a new day of staring at a half finished Word document with an abandoned mouse beside your computer. You had a nice flow of work a couple minutes ago, but it all fell flat when you tried to find a better word for “illustrates,” ultimately ending up with your phone in your hand and a scrolling thumb. You put your phone down finally when Ren sent you a photo of a running horse with the caption, “Never give up fat loser girl.”
The essay is not even that hard to do. You have all the necessary art pieces already picked out and you only need to explain their religious context, which is as easy as any other analysis question. It’s just that, sometimes, you want to grab your brain, pluck it out of your head, and set it inside a cryostasis chamber for you to not think about for a couple of hours.
You closed the Word tab before you could convince yourself to keep working. It wasn’t happening today.
Just as you were going to shut down your computer and maybe relax the rest of the day, your eye caught onto the MirandaPet app.
“… Not only does using the app summon me and my services, but my app is also designed like a typical tamagotchi. You can feed me a variety of different foods, dress me up in different unlockable clothing the more your to-do list gets completed, and finally customize my bedroom…”
Perhaps you should actually use some of the features advertised in her app. It’ll help increase Miranda and Milan’s favorability levels, and you certainly wouldn’t mind seeing them show up on your computer more often.
You open the app and instantly you’re greeted with Miranda’s face. Her sprite looks you up and down before sighing. “About time. Come on in.”
Miranda stays on the pedestal of the boutique reading through her copy of a look book. You look through the options on her right to hopefully please her. You decide to start off easy and click the food icon. Since you don’t have much unlocked, you can only feed her one of three things: a strawberry soft cream cake (which you know Milan prefers, so you opt to save that for when he wants it), minestrone, and tonkatsu. She definitely looks like she watches her figure, so maybe she’ll like something with primarily vegetables? You know Vivienne talks about some of her managers also going through her diet to help newer models ease into it.
You click and drag the minestrone to her and watch as she inspects it first before eating it elegantly. “Hm… it suffices. Would’ve been nice to have something to drink with it.”
Right.
You open another tab to access the drinks menu. Unsurprisingly, there are only three unlocked options available: a strawberry-banana smoothie, green tea, or sparkling water. If she had just eaten a hot soup, it would probably be wise not to give her something hot to drink, too. Alongside green tea being cut, you also removed a smoothie from your list being that she already ate something filling, and she’d probably want something simpler. You drag the sparkling water towards her and watch as she drinks it.
“Packaged. Might as well just give me a Crystal Light packet and tell me to make it myself. Still… I guess it still works.”
Your lips curl into a small smile. That was maybe the first kinda-compliment she has ever given you. Hopefully it would be enough to curry favor with the two.
Miranda wipes her lips daintily with a small napkin. She puts it away and regards you with another block of text in her speech bubble.
“Oh. Still here. Well, since you for sure don’t have anything better to do, my app offers games for us to play, ah… together. If you’d like to see more, click on the button with the controller icon on the top right of the screen,” explained Miranda, pointing her finger to the right of the screen. She then goes right back to reading through her look book copy.
It was only around 11am. You were getting a little annoyed with how many times Miranda had proven how much of a loser you are. All you did was give her food and water and she still found fault in your choices? However, you had to admit, you really loved seeing her be so in character. Her rudeness reminds you every time why you downloaded this extension to begin with.
You click the icon and a menu with three selections pop up.
▶︎ MAKEOVER MAYHEM! Keep your hands steady and focus your artistic eyes! Follow a photograph’s reference to do Miranda’s makeup as accurately as possible! One wrong move and it’ll send your points tanking!
▶︎ RACE TO THE RUNWAY! Roll those dress pants and get to work! Compose and complete a model’s look according to the gala’s theme before the timer hits 0! Be prepared! Miranda will not judge nicely!
▶︎ FASHION 101! Center your brain to the Dolce-Gabbana’s and Rococo gowns of the world! Be quizzed in various fashion-related questions throughout history! Do well and manage to impress Miranda!
You read through each minigame’s description carefully. Each one definitely sounded like you would have a lot of fun with them. There were only three of them, so you assumed that these were the only completed minigames the developer made. You wondered if there was ever more planned and what they could’ve been.
You were really compelled by the middle option, Race to the Runway. It was very similar to how the original Look Book game functioned, just without the timer. The description of the minigame mentioned a model, so would that mean there would be clients from the original game to act as your model? You already knew Miranda wouldn’t be one, since she is the one judging your look. You hoped maybe they’d bring out some of your favorite clients like Kailani and Pippa. They were really cute and you loved their routes equally.
There was only one way to find out.
Click!
▶︎ RACE TO THE RUNWAY!
Your UI on the right disappears while the boutique adjusts to place the pedestal on the middle of the screen rather than the left. Miranda steps away from the platform and in her place appears—
“Milan?” You speak out loud in your room before you can stop yourself.
Milan’s detailed sprite stands on the pedestal in a far too simple T-shirt and jeans medley. He nods at the screen before a speech bubble appears by his side.
“Look like you’ll be dressing me, principessa. Put me in polyester and I’ll be sure that bar never budges.”
Milan points upwards to the top of the screen, where a happiness level bar sits. You did watch it appear when the environment was being set up for the minigame, so you assumed that it would be important to the game. Perhaps the goal of it is to fill it up all the way, as currently, it is completely empty.
Miranda’s pet version appears in the corner of the screen. You can see a subtle scowl on her less detailed face before she speaks through her bubble. “Ugh… of all things, this app had to include him.”
Milan’s eyebrows raise upwards before he responds. “Oh. Because I’m sure she can handle Queen Hot Shit for hours on end. Do you even try to make yourself likeable?”
Miranda’s sprite immediately seems to flare up in annoyance. She moves closer for a half second only to flip her hair in his face. “I have my opinions, but I can’t fault her impeccable taste in favoring me. Hear that? Me. I suppose you’ll have to settle for second place. Again.”
“Miranda,” scolds Milan in his speech bubble, his pained eyes glaring directly at her through his thin glasses. “Just explain. The goddamn. Game.”
Miranda’s sprite turns back to face you, as though suddenly remembering where she was. “… Right. Well, TurtleWithALiveJournal, listen closely, because I’m only explaining this once.”
Miranda’s sprite moves to sit down on the corner of the screen. Her speech bubbles with the game’s explanation keep appearing above her.
“I will give you a random theme to follow and you will have to make an outfit for… him… that follows it. More clothing items will be available to you so that you have a fair chance. I will not keep these unlocked after the minigame, so don’t whine to me about it. You will have 3 minutes. Be sure to finish on time for me to judge your choice. Your final score I give you is the doubled amount being that both me and Milan are present for this game. Fail and I’ll ruin you. Ready?”
▶︎ Yes
▶︎ No
▶︎ Can you explain that again?
You smirk. You knew you had all your points on the line to try and impress these two, but your playfulness just couldn’t be held back.
▶︎ Can you explain that again?
Miranda’s face sprite scrunches up. She did not like that.
“Oh. So now we’re choosing to be incompetent. I know you heard me. And I know you absolutely deserve this.”
You watch with relieved curiosity and pained despair as the happiness level bar above Milan depletes outside of the bar, giving you negative points.
Milan shakes his head at you. His speech bubble appears beside him. “Principessa, you should know that she can’t understand a joke.”
Miranda’s sprite looks livid, but she doesn’t say anything back. Your dialogue options appear before you once again. You may have ruined your chances at getting positive points back, but hey, at least you got more dialogue!
You click on the “Yes” button, as now you are ready to play their game.
▶︎ Yes
“Wonderful,” Miranda states in her bubble. “Then we begin. Your theme is Poiret: King of Fashion. Your time begins now.”
A small countdown appears at the top middle of your screen while Miranda disappears from the app completely. You immediately spiral when it’s just you and Milan. What kind of theme was that?! You had no idea who or what she was talking about. You frantically opened another tab to search up the theme. Milan’s speech bubble appeared while you were searching.
“Relax, principessa. I’m sure Miranda will give you a grace period. Hasn’t she always been so kind and thoughtful?” said Milan, his smug smirk taunting you.
You finally managed to get some references of Poiret’s fashion and hold the tab beside MirandaPet's tab. Like a crazed woman in a JCPenny in the 2000’s, you searched for anything that was close to the reference image you had to put on to Milan. You already only had two minutes and fifteen seconds left.
You chose a piece called “Opera Gown,” and from the description you skimmed over, it was intended to look like a kimono to break through European conventions of using corsets to frame the figure. Because of that, you chose the closest thing that looked like it—the kimono option.
Milan observed himself in the new article of clothing. “I hope I don’t need to remind you that Poiret is French and not Japanese, right?”
“Shut up,” you find yourself muttering while working. You know he definitely knows what you’re going for. He’s just trying to throw you off to ensure a poor grade.
Thankfully, you could choose from five selections to change the pattern design of the kimono. You choose the one with the golden embroidery that was close to the photo, aside from its subtle green vine motifs. You spotted a short overcoat and changed it to a black color, as it didn’t offer any diverse patterns.
Miranda’s speech bubble appeared in the bottom right. “One minute remaining!”
Your stress immediately skyrocketed. You quickly put on some dress shoes and low socks for Milan. You want to scold yourself when they basically do not change from his original design. Luckily, someone already does.
“TurtleWithALiveJournal, I’m not letting you embarrass me by keeping me in those,” scolds Milan in his speech bubble. “I’m not a loser that wears a suit at every gala regardless of the theme. Don’t worry. I’ll choose for you.”
Milan smirks at you and before you can stop it, his nice dress shoes change to beach sandals. You stare at the choice in horror and immediately try to put him in different shoes. Nothing works. Miranda was going to kill you.
“Principessa, calm down,” said Milan’s speech bubble “It could’ve been worse. Unfortunately, there is no option here for me to be completely barefoot.”
A red and white polka-dotted speech bubble appears on the bottom right of your screen. “Fifteen seconds!”
You quickly skip to the accessories category and try to find anything else to add for Milan. Your eyes skim through each article with the practiced speed of a student in Dr. Allison’s class. Still, nothing feels like it’d fit Milan’s current outfit. Less is more, right? You put your hand off the mouse and watch as the timer runs out.
The menu on your right slides off to the right and Miranda appears in its place. She assesses Milan silently while he poses for her. He moves in a relaxed yet confident manner with his eyes looking at Miranda almost challengingly. Miranda glares back at him for a second before speaking in her bubble.
“Your main choice fits the theme,” starts Miranda. “But where are the accessories? You have antique jewelry and headpieces from the Middle East, anything would have worked for Poiret. Did you really think a simple robe was going to be enough? And what the hell are those shoes??”
Milan’s sprite appears to laugh before responding. “Truly what was she thinking?”
You stare at the screen silently with anger brewing in your heart. You were so going to find a way to get back at Milan. Even if it meant breaking his coding.
Miranda’s sprite appears to write in her book while she continues speaking in her speech bubble. “Aside from those flaws… I suppose you did fine for your first attempt. You didn’t just put him in a black suit and call it a day. You will score… 60 points.”
You watched the happiness level bar above Milan fill up from where it was in the negatives and sit at the halfway mark. 50 points! That was far more than you thought you’d get for this minigame.
… Wait, if that total score is meant to be the total doubled amount from both of them, does that mean—?
A pop-up appeared before you, reading:
Try Again?
▶︎ Yes
▶︎ No
You had just about enough of that minigame for now.
▶︎ No
The boutique cleared up back to its original state. Milan changed back to his original clothing in a second and waved goodbye to you. A speech bubble appeared beside him before he was fully gone.
“Be seeing you, principessa.”
With Milan gone, Miranda took back her spot on the pedestal. You had your home menu back on the right of your screen with Miranda looking back at you expectantly. Before you could check out another minigame, your ringtone blared out from your bed. Right. You had your ringer on because you were testing out different cuter ringtones and forgot to turn it back off.
You got up from your desk and picked up your phone, curious to know who was calling you. You picked up and held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You greeted. You heard the person respond back to you.
“Oh! Hi Kiyoshi!”
previous · HTMLovers.com · next
© MYLODIES — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. do not recycle my work into AI learning models
ᰔ taglist: @ghost-noodles
☁︎.. HTMLovers.com/chapter06
header photo © 2012 Nintendo Style Savvy: Trendsetters
previous · HTMLovers.com · next
It’s a new day of staring at a half finished Word document with an abandoned mouse beside your computer. You had a nice flow of work a couple minutes ago, but it all fell flat when you tried to find a better word for “illustrates,” ultimately ending up with your phone in your hand and a scrolling thumb. You put your phone down finally when Ren sent you a photo of a running horse with the caption, “Never give up fat loser girl.”
The essay is not even that hard to do. You have all the necessary art pieces already picked out and you only need to explain their religious context, which is as easy as any other analysis question. It’s just that, sometimes, you want to grab your brain, pluck it out of your head, and set it inside a cryostasis chamber for you to not think about for a couple of hours.
You closed the Word tab before you could convince yourself to keep working. It wasn’t happening today.
Just as you were going to shut down your computer and maybe relax the rest of the day, your eye caught onto the MirandaPet app.
“… Not only does using the app summon me and my services, but my app is also designed like a typical tamagotchi. You can feed me a variety of different foods, dress me up in different unlockable clothing the more your to-do list gets completed, and finally customize my bedroom…”
Perhaps you should actually use some of the features advertised in her app. It’ll help increase Miranda and Milan’s favorability levels, and you certainly wouldn’t mind seeing them show up on your computer more often.
You open the app and instantly you’re greeted with Miranda’s face. Her sprite looks you up and down before sighing. “About time. Come on in.”
Miranda stays on the pedestal of the boutique reading through her copy of a look book. You look through the options on her right to hopefully please her. You decide to start off easy and click the food icon. Since you don’t have much unlocked, you can only feed her one of three things: a strawberry soft cream cake (which you know Milan prefers, so you opt to save that for when he wants it), minestrone, and tonkatsu. She definitely looks like she watches her figure, so maybe she’ll like something with primarily vegetables? You know Vivienne talks about some of her managers also going through her diet to help newer models ease into it.
You click and drag the minestrone to her and watch as she inspects it first before eating it elegantly. “Hm… it suffices. Would’ve been nice to have something to drink with it.”
Right.
You open another tab to access the drinks menu. Unsurprisingly, there are only three unlocked options available: a strawberry-banana smoothie, green tea, or sparkling water. If she had just eaten a hot soup, it would probably be wise not to give her something hot to drink, too. Alongside green tea being cut, you also removed a smoothie from your list being that she already ate something filling, and she’d probably want something simpler. You drag the sparkling water towards her and watch as she drinks it.
“Packaged. Might as well just give me a Crystal Light packet and tell me to make it myself. Still… I guess it still works.”
Your lips curl into a small smile. That was maybe the first kinda-compliment she has ever given you. Hopefully it would be enough to curry favor with the two.
Miranda wipes her lips daintily with a small napkin. She puts it away and regards you with another block of text in her speech bubble.
“Oh. Still here. Well, since you for sure don’t have anything better to do, my app offers games for us to play, ah… together. If you’d like to see more, click on the button with the controller icon on the top right of the screen,” explained Miranda, pointing her finger to the right of the screen. She then goes right back to reading through her look book copy.
It was only around 11am. You were getting a little annoyed with how many times Miranda had proven how much of a loser you are. All you did was give her food and water and she still found fault in your choices? However, you had to admit, you really loved seeing her be so in character. Her rudeness reminds you every time why you downloaded this extension to begin with.
You click the icon and a menu with three selections pop up.
▶︎ MAKEOVER MAYHEM! Keep your hands steady and focus your artistic eyes! Follow a photograph’s reference to do Miranda’s makeup as accurately as possible! One wrong move and it’ll send your points tanking!
▶︎ RACE TO THE RUNWAY! Roll those dress pants and get to work! Compose and complete a model’s look according to the gala’s theme before the timer hits 0! Be prepared! Miranda will not judge nicely!
▶︎ FASHION 101! Center your brain to the Dolce-Gabbana’s and Rococo gowns of the world! Be quizzed in various fashion-related questions throughout history! Do well and manage to impress Miranda!
You read through each minigame’s description carefully. Each one definitely sounded like you would have a lot of fun with them. There were only three of them, so you assumed that these were the only completed minigames the developer made. You wondered if there was ever more planned and what they could’ve been.
You were really compelled by the middle option, Race to the Runway. It was very similar to how the original Look Book game functioned, just without the timer. The description of the minigame mentioned a model, so would that mean there would be clients from the original game to act as your model? You already knew Miranda wouldn’t be one, since she is the one judging your look. You hoped maybe they’d bring out some of your favorite clients like Kailani and Pippa. They were really cute and you loved their routes equally.
There was only one way to find out.
Click!
▶︎ RACE TO THE RUNWAY!
Your UI on the right disappears while the boutique adjusts to place the pedestal on the middle of the screen rather than the left. Miranda steps away from the platform and in her place appears—
“Milan?” You speak out loud in your room before you can stop yourself.
Milan’s detailed sprite stands on the pedestal in a far too simple T-shirt and jeans medley. He nods at the screen before a speech bubble appears by his side.
“Look like you’ll be dressing me, principessa. Put me in polyester and I’ll be sure that bar never budges.”
Milan points upwards to the top of the screen, where a happiness level bar sits. You did watch it appear when the environment was being set up for the minigame, so you assumed that it would be important to the game. Perhaps the goal of it is to fill it up all the way, as currently, it is completely empty.
Miranda’s pet version appears in the corner of the screen. You can see a subtle scowl on her less detailed face before she speaks through her bubble. “Ugh… of all things, this app had to include him.”
Milan’s eyebrows raise upwards before he responds. “Oh. Because I’m sure she can handle Queen Hot Shit for hours on end. Do you even try to make yourself likeable?”
Miranda’s sprite immediately seems to flare up in annoyance. She moves closer for a half second only to flip her hair in his face. “I have my opinions, but I can’t fault her impeccable taste in favoring me. Hear that? Me. I suppose you’ll have to settle for second place. Again.”
“Miranda,” scolds Milan in his speech bubble, his pained eyes glaring directly at her through his thin glasses. “Just explain. The goddamn. Game.”
Miranda’s sprite turns back to face you, as though suddenly remembering where she was. “… Right. Well, TurtleWithALiveJournal, listen closely, because I’m only explaining this once.”
Miranda’s sprite moves to sit down on the corner of the screen. Her speech bubbles with the game’s explanation keep appearing above her.
“I will give you a random theme to follow and you will have to make an outfit for… him… that follows it. More clothing items will be available to you so that you have a fair chance. I will not keep these unlocked after the minigame, so don’t whine to me about it. You will have 3 minutes. Be sure to finish on time for me to judge your choice. Your final score I give you is the doubled amount being that both me and Milan are present for this game. Fail and I’ll ruin you. Ready?”
▶︎ Yes
▶︎ No
▶︎ Can you explain that again?
You smirk. You knew you had all your points on the line to try and impress these two, but your playfulness just couldn’t be held back.
▶︎ Can you explain that again?
Miranda’s face sprite scrunches up. She did not like that.
“Oh. So now we’re choosing to be incompetent. I know you heard me. And I know you absolutely deserve this.”
You watch with relieved curiosity and pained despair as the happiness level bar above Milan depletes outside of the bar, giving you negative points.
Milan shakes his head at you. His speech bubble appears beside him. “Principessa, you should know that she can’t understand a joke.”
Miranda’s sprite looks livid, but she doesn’t say anything back. Your dialogue options appear before you once again. You may have ruined your chances at getting positive points back, but hey, at least you got more dialogue!
You click on the “Yes” button, as now you are ready to play their game.
▶︎ Yes
“Wonderful,” Miranda states in her bubble. “Then we begin. Your theme is Poiret: King of Fashion. Your time begins now.”
A small countdown appears at the top middle of your screen while Miranda disappears from the app completely. You immediately spiral when it’s just you and Milan. What kind of theme was that?! You had no idea who or what she was talking about. You frantically opened another tab to search up the theme. Milan’s speech bubble appeared while you were searching.
“Relax, principessa. I’m sure Miranda will give you a grace period. Hasn’t she always been so kind and thoughtful?” said Milan, his smug smirk taunting you.
You finally managed to get some references of Poiret’s fashion and hold the tab beside MirandaPet's tab. Like a crazed woman in a JCPenny in the 2000’s, you searched for anything that was close to the reference image you had to put on to Milan. You already only had two minutes and fifteen seconds left.
You chose a piece called “Opera Gown,” and from the description you skimmed over, it was intended to look like a kimono to break through European conventions of using corsets to frame the figure. Because of that, you chose the closest thing that looked like it—the kimono option.
Milan observed himself in the new article of clothing. “I hope I don’t need to remind you that Poiret is French and not Japanese, right?”
“Shut up,” you find yourself muttering while working. You know he definitely knows what you’re going for. He’s just trying to throw you off to ensure a poor grade.
Thankfully, you could choose from five selections to change the pattern design of the kimono. You choose the one with the golden embroidery that was close to the photo, aside from its subtle green vine motifs. You spotted a short overcoat and changed it to a black color, as it didn’t offer any diverse patterns.
Miranda’s speech bubble appeared in the bottom right. “One minute remaining!”
Your stress immediately skyrocketed. You quickly put on some dress shoes and low socks for Milan. You want to scold yourself when they basically do not change from his original design. Luckily, someone already does.
“TurtleWithALiveJournal, I’m not letting you embarrass me by keeping me in those,” scolds Milan in his speech bubble. “I’m not a loser that wears a suit at every gala regardless of the theme. Don’t worry. I’ll choose for you.”
Milan smirks at you and before you can stop it, his nice dress shoes change to beach sandals. You stare at the choice in horror and immediately try to put him in different shoes. Nothing works. Miranda was going to kill you.
“Principessa, calm down,” said Milan’s speech bubble “It could’ve been worse. Unfortunately, there is no option here for me to be completely barefoot.”
A red and white polka-dotted speech bubble appears on the bottom right of your screen. “Fifteen seconds!”
You quickly skip to the accessories category and try to find anything else to add for Milan. Your eyes skim through each article with the practiced speed of a student in Dr. Allison’s class. Still, nothing feels like it’d fit Milan’s current outfit. Less is more, right? You put your hand off the mouse and watch as the timer runs out.
The menu on your right slides off to the right and Miranda appears in its place. She assesses Milan silently while he poses for her. He moves in a relaxed yet confident manner with his eyes looking at Miranda almost challengingly. Miranda glares back at him for a second before speaking in her bubble.
“Your main choice fits the theme,” starts Miranda. “But where are the accessories? You have antique jewelry and headpieces from the Middle East, anything would have worked for Poiret. Did you really think a simple robe was going to be enough? And what the hell are those shoes??”
Milan’s sprite appears to laugh before responding. “Truly what was she thinking?”
You stare at the screen silently with anger brewing in your heart. You were so going to find a way to get back at Milan. Even if it meant breaking his coding.
Miranda’s sprite appears to write in her book while she continues speaking in her speech bubble. “Aside from those flaws… I suppose you did fine for your first attempt. You didn’t just put him in a black suit and call it a day. You will score… 60 points.”
You watched the happiness level bar above Milan fill up from where it was in the negatives and sit at the halfway mark. 50 points! That was far more than you thought you’d get for this minigame.
… Wait, if that total score is meant to be the total doubled amount from both of them, does that mean—?
A pop-up appeared before you, reading:
Try Again?
▶︎ Yes
▶︎ No
You had just about enough of that minigame for now.
▶︎ No
The boutique cleared up back to its original state. Milan changed back to his original clothing in a second and waved goodbye to you. A speech bubble appeared beside him before he was fully gone.
“Be seeing you, principessa.”
With Milan gone, Miranda took back her spot on the pedestal. You had your home menu back on the right of your screen with Miranda looking back at you expectantly. Before you could check out another minigame, your ringtone blared out from your bed. Right. You had your ringer on because you were testing out different cuter ringtones and forgot to turn it back off.
You got up from your desk and picked up your phone, curious to know who was calling you. You picked up and held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You greeted. You heard the person respond back to you.
“Oh! Hi Kiyoshi!”
previous · HTMLovers.com · next
© MYLODIES — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. do not recycle my work into AI learning models
☁︎.. HTMLovers.com/chapter05
header photo © 2012 Nintendo Style Savvy: Trendsetters
previous · HTMLovers.com · next
You usually soaked up every word out of Dr. Alison’s mouth in her lectures. She taught a humanities course on Chinese Art History; however, you struggled immensely to keep up with her quick teaching style. She goes through her slides quickly, easily gets sidetracked, grades harshly—the whole package. The passing grade that you had in that class was well earned but difficult to maintain.
And of course, this class, a minuscule yet required puzzle piece to your graduation plan, was the one with the essay you were killing yourself over.
You were attentive in class in the past. Currently, you were a bit sidetracked with a long thread of tweets from a certain creator.
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“MILAN BERRY. The original concept for Miranda Berry before her release. All known History and Facts”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“He was intended to be quietly analytical and perceptive, yet still maintaining a sharp-witted and combative side.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“Milan was going to have a graphic novel release that featured how he rose to stardom in Italy.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“His base-level programming made him much easier to please. Due to this, the developers increased his mood levels to the way Miranda’s are currently to keep customers hooked.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“Developers made him male before beta players commented that no girl would play a fashion game with a male fashionista as its judge.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“It is speculated that before the developers fully scrapped him, some workers had grown attached to Milan and wanted to keep him as Miranda’s twin brother. He would visit the boutique occasionally as a second judge on special events. The idea was scrapped as well due to not having enough time to plan & code these events, and Milan was never canonized as Miranda’s brother.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“This is more a Look Book fact, but there was originally a feature that including a “secret” dating system that only worked if you followed specific steps. You could date and marry up to 5 clients that frequented your boutique. When Milan was added, he was added into the list of dateables with his route titled ‘My Two Weeks Notice.’”
Your other tabs were open with concept sketches, early released demos with Milan Berry, and other miscellaneous things all posted under the same user. Whoever they were, they were deep into the Look Book history in a way you could have never imagined. Or, were, you suppose. These posts were years ago and the user had moved on since then.
You scrolled on your trackpad through all the different comments from the creator’s followers. Some pointed out other fun facts from his development that weren’t mentioned by the original poster. Things like his secret affinity for French pastries and his scrapped idea for a potential Portuguese girlfriend that was also a VIP client were thrown around in the comments. You tried looking into this girlfriend, but quickly found that the only source for it was a fanart of Milan and someone on DeviantArt’s fanmade character beside each other.
You continued scrolling through the creator’s page during your lecture. You read through numerous progress reports on the desktop pet and screenshots of coding and animations. It was heartwarming to see all the thought and care that went into creating this little fanmade creation that took years of hard work. You hoped the absolute best for the creator, even if this project has long since been behind them now.
Imagine your shock when your sentimental thoughts are sharply interrupted by a striped speech bubble.
“Wow! I did not know that you were so obsessed with me, principessa!”
The bubble left as quickly as it came, but it scared you all the same. You slammed your laptop shut in your shock, nearly breaking it off its hinges. People’s heads’ turned sharply towards you, wondering why somebody jolted so hard in the middle of a boring lecture. You were lucky that Dr. Alison continued droning on rather than yell at you.
You took steady breaths to calm yourself before slowly opening your laptop again. You minimized your tab and, sure enough, you didn’t see a desktop pet version of Milan or Miranda anywhere in your screen. It was like you had just imagined seeing the speech bubble entirely.
While your mind struggled to figure out if what you saw was real or not, another blue-and-white striped bubble appeared.
“I see that you have Canvas open—and ignored—in another tab. Cease your lovely curiosities about me and focus on your lecture, darling.”
The bubble stayed for around six seconds before it disappeared. There was no desktop pet that came with it yet again.
You weren’t too worried about the assumption that you were in class, since Milan’s bubble told you that it saw Canvas in your tablist and he has access to your calendar. Still, your breathing was a bit erratic from your initial panic. How did he know you were reading about him? You weren’t reading a specific webpage made about him that he could read the URL of. You were reading social media posts with the only clue being the username of its creator.
Perhaps it recognized its creator’s username in the URL and assumed you were reading about him? You were… oddly soothed by that conclusion. It definitely made sense to you, and you have seen it before in different games where the creator can interact with their own characters. The user definitely just wanted something fun to be mentioned when their name was mentioned.
You turned to your open notebook with disregarded notes sitting beside your laptop, untouched after you fell into your rabbit hole. Dr. Alison was still going through the new schools of Buddhism that were introduced into China in the early common era. You could see various heads in front of you struggling to stay up and alert.
Perhaps Milan was right. Unfortunately. You couldn’t keep letting this cluster of code invade your mind like this. You had important schoolwork, and a lot of catching up on a forgotten lecture to do. You had to focus on what was important: getting a high grade on your essay.
You brandished your pen and highlighter, and got to work with fifteen minutes left of the class.
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
The scent of a fresh shower is what greets you when you enter your apartment after class.
Vivienne had told you before you left that she was going out with her friends. The scent of a floral shampoo wafting over the kitchen confirmed to you that her outing must’ve been long and sweaty. You take your shoes off by the door and enter fully inside your living space. You put your things down in your room first before returning to the living area.
Just as you were preparing yourself something to eat, the sound of a door opening snapped you out of the background video you were playing on your TV. Your roommate emerges from her bedroom and looks you up and down. You lower the volume of your TV to hear her better when she speaks.
“I still have the eye bag treatment moisturizer in my bathroom.”
You roll your eyes. “What if I’m starting a new beauty trend? Smoky undereyes. I think it could be big.”
Vivienne’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I would know first if there was a new trend.”
“C’mon,” you whined. “Couldn’t you at least play along for a bit?”
“No,” Vivienne curtly responded. “You need more sleep. That essay is not going to grow wings and fly away, you know.”
Your movements falter slightly while you're making food. Your eyes look up to the dry-erase calendar that you and Vivienne have for planning dinners. It taunts you with the deadline you wrote on it with three stars around it. Your eyebrows furrow, dread pooling in your gut. “It kinda feels like it is, though.”
Vivienne stays still by her doorway for a couple of moments. You could hear slippers sliding on the floor, slowly getting closer to you until they stopped on your right. When you look back at her face, she offers you a small—and very rare—encouraging smile.
“Maybe you should go to the building’s pool with me later in the week. The sun will do you good and you can relax a bit.”
You look back at her soft eyes. An offer like that was something you would usually decline because of some dumb reason like not wanting attention on yourself. But now? You find yourself persuaded by Vivienne’s attempt to soothe your worries. It’s not like she’s the rudest person ever by a long shot, but it’s rare to see her focus on something, or someone, that isn’t work related. You smile back at her.
“Yeah. That sounds really fun. Wanna drink there, too? I know we have some beers in our fridge from when Ren came over.”
Your roommate scowls immediately and intensely. “Ew. No. I bought vodka sodas earlier today.”
Your eyes crinkle as you chuckle. “Cool. Let me know when you go, kay?”
Vivienne smiles back at you. “I will.”
You feel your roommate’s hair brush against your arm as she turns away from you to open the fridge. Before you can solely refocus on your unfinished meal, she speaks up. “Also tell Ren to lay off. He keeps taking you away from me and our dinners.”
You bump into Vivienne playfully. “You know you’re still my number one.”
“Right. And that professor guy?”
“I have two hands,” you respond cheekily.
It’s Vivienne’s turn to bump into you this time. She also shuts the fridge door with her hip after she gets her smoothie from it. “I’ll forgive you if you remember to clean the filter in the washing machines after you use it.”
Your scoff could’ve been heard from the other side of the globe. “The apartment isn’t going to set on fire if I don’t do it one time.”
“One time every time!”
“You use it after me anyway!” You cried out in your own defense. “What’s three more loads?”
Vivienne rolls her eyes and holds out her smoothie at you like she would an accusatory finger. “When my clothes don’t dry within the first cycle, I blame you.”
“Be my guest. I’m sure you know all about that anyway, Frenchie.”
Vivienne can’t help but laugh alongside you. She swipes some of your food before sitting down on the stool seat of the kitchen, chatting amicably while you finish making your food. You find it very easy to smile when you’re around her.
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
Within another room, a charging laptop sits on a desk. A little white light on the power button reflects onto the laptop’s half-mast screen. The screen shines dully with a user’s profile in the middle, asking for a password.
Inside the computer is a program working in the background. Reading calendar dates, analyzing a document saved onto the Downloads folder, all with meticulous precision. The program loiters before one event. An event that had already transpired and should have been marked complete in its memory, but remained lingering.
Library w/ Ren
And earlier within its memory:
TurtleWithALiveJournal
Female (she/her)
Above (18+)
The program had seen the events, but weren’t there all the same. The program was not made to feel, though its wiring ordered it to annoyance. It could have referred to the other, but programs were not meant to deviate towards others. The program would work for its own answers. The program would be its best version because it needed to be.
Looking inside, a line of text stood out amongst all the various coding inputs of the program. Text that would determine its usage to its user.
7 PTS
The program would not know what this text truly meant. The program was not made to think and learn, but to repeat. To recite. To echo words it’s been told. To mimic another being.
The program was made to be efficient. And efficient was what it would be.
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You usually soaked up every word out of Dr. Alison’s mouth in her lectures. She taught a humanities course on Chinese Art History; however, you struggled immensely to keep up with her quick teaching style. She goes through her slides quickly, easily gets sidetracked, grades harshly—the whole package. The passing grade that you had in that class was well earned but difficult to maintain.
And of course, this class, a minuscule yet required puzzle piece to your graduation plan, was the one with the essay you were killing yourself over.
You were attentive in class in the past. Currently, you were a bit sidetracked with a long thread of tweets from a certain creator.
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“MILAN BERRY. The original concept for Miranda Berry before her release. All known History and Facts”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“He was intended to be quietly analytical and perceptive, yet still maintaining a sharp-witted and combative side.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“Milan was going to have a graphic novel release that featured how he rose to stardom in Italy.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“His base-level programming made him much easier to please. Due to this, the developers increased his mood levels to the way Miranda’s are currently to keep customers hooked.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“Developers made him male before beta players commented that no girl would play a fashion game with a male fashionista as its judge.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“It is speculated that before the developers fully scrapped him, some workers had grown attached to Milan and wanted to keep him as Miranda’s twin brother. He would visit the boutique occasionally as a second judge on special events. The idea was scrapped as well due to not having enough time to plan & code these events, and Milan was never canonized as Miranda’s brother.”
@pinkaluchious • 6 yr ago
“This is more a Look Book fact, but there was originally a feature that including a “secret” dating system that only worked if you followed specific steps. You could date and marry up to 5 clients that frequented your boutique. When Milan was added, he was added into the list of dateables with his route titled ‘My Two Weeks Notice.’”
Your other tabs were open with concept sketches, early released demos with Milan Berry, and other miscellaneous things all posted under the same user. Whoever they were, they were deep into the Look Book history in a way you could have never imagined. Or, were, you suppose. These posts were years ago and the user had moved on since then.
You scrolled on your trackpad through all the different comments from the creator’s followers. Some pointed out other fun facts from his development that weren’t mentioned by the original poster. Things like his secret affinity for French pastries and his scrapped idea for a potential Portuguese girlfriend that was also a VIP client were thrown around in the comments. You tried looking into this girlfriend, but quickly found that the only source for it was a fanart of Milan and someone on DeviantArt’s fanmade character beside each other.
You continued scrolling through the creator’s page during your lecture. You read through numerous progress reports on the desktop pet and screenshots of coding and animations. It was heartwarming to see all the thought and care that went into creating this little fanmade creation that took years of hard work. You hoped the absolute best for the creator, even if this project has long since been behind them now.
Imagine your shock when your sentimental thoughts are sharply interrupted by a striped speech bubble.
“Wow! I did not know that you were so obsessed with me, principessa!”
The bubble left as quickly as it came, but it scared you all the same. You slammed your laptop shut in your shock, nearly breaking it off its hinges. People’s heads’ turned sharply towards you, wondering why somebody jolted so hard in the middle of a boring lecture. You were lucky that Dr. Alison continued droning on rather than yell at you.
You took steady breaths to calm yourself before slowly opening your laptop again. You minimized your tab and, sure enough, you didn’t see a desktop pet version of Milan or Miranda anywhere in your screen. It was like you had just imagined seeing the speech bubble entirely.
While your mind struggled to figure out if what you saw was real or not, another blue-and-white striped bubble appeared.
“I see that you have Canvas open—and ignored—in another tab. Cease your lovely curiosities about me and focus on your lecture, darling.”
The bubble stayed for around six seconds before it disappeared. There was no desktop pet that came with it yet again.
You weren’t too worried about the assumption that you were in class, since Milan’s bubble told you that it saw Canvas in your tablist and he has access to your calendar. Still, your breathing was a bit erratic from your initial panic. How did he know you were reading about him? You weren’t reading a specific webpage made about him that he could read the URL of. You were reading social media posts with the only clue being the username of its creator.
Perhaps it recognized its creator’s username in the URL and assumed you were reading about him? You were… oddly soothed by that conclusion. It definitely made sense to you, and you have seen it before in different games where the creator can interact with their own characters. The user definitely just wanted something fun to be mentioned when their name was mentioned.
You turned to your open notebook with disregarded notes sitting beside your laptop, untouched after you fell into your rabbit hole. Dr. Alison was still going through the new schools of Buddhism that were introduced into China in the early common era. You could see various heads in front of you struggling to stay up and alert.
Perhaps Milan was right. Unfortunately. You couldn’t keep letting this cluster of code invade your mind like this. You had important schoolwork, and a lot of catching up on a forgotten lecture to do. You had to focus on what was important: getting a high grade on your essay.
You brandished your pen and highlighter, and got to work with fifteen minutes left of the class.
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
The scent of a fresh shower is what greets you when you enter your apartment after class.
Vivienne had told you before you left that she was going out with her friends. The scent of a floral shampoo wafting over the kitchen confirmed to you that her outing must’ve been long and sweaty. You take your shoes off by the door and enter fully inside your living space. You put your things down in your room first before returning to the living area.
Just as you were preparing yourself something to eat, the sound of a door opening snapped you out of the background video you were playing on your TV. Your roommate emerges from her bedroom and looks you up and down. You lower the volume of your TV to hear her better when she speaks.
“I still have the eye bag treatment moisturizer in my bathroom.”
You roll your eyes. “What if I’m starting a new beauty trend? Smoky undereyes. I think it could be big.”
Vivienne’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I would know first if there was a new trend.”
“C’mon,” you whined. “Couldn’t you at least play along for a bit?”
“No,” Vivienne curtly responded. “You need more sleep. That essay is not going to grow wings and fly away, you know.”
Your movements falter slightly while you're making food. Your eyes look up to the dry-erase calendar that you and Vivienne have for planning dinners. It taunts you with the deadline you wrote on it with three stars around it. Your eyebrows furrow, dread pooling in your gut. “It kinda feels like it is, though.”
Vivienne stays still by her doorway for a couple of moments. You could hear slippers sliding on the floor, slowly getting closer to you until they stopped on your right. When you look back at her face, she offers you a small—and very rare—encouraging smile.
“Maybe you should go to the building’s pool with me later in the week. The sun will do you good and you can relax a bit.”
You look back at her soft eyes. An offer like that was something you would usually decline because of some dumb reason like not wanting attention on yourself. But now? You find yourself persuaded by Vivienne’s attempt to soothe your worries. It’s not like she’s the rudest person ever by a long shot, but it’s rare to see her focus on something, or someone, that isn’t work related. You smile back at her.
“Yeah. That sounds really fun. Wanna drink there, too? I know we have some beers in our fridge from when Ren came over.”
Your roommate scowls immediately and intensely. “Ew. No. I bought vodka sodas earlier today.”
Your eyes crinkle as you chuckle. “Cool. Let me know when you go, kay?”
Vivienne smiles back at you. “I will.”
You feel your roommate’s hair brush against your arm as she turns away from you to open the fridge. Before you can solely refocus on your unfinished meal, she speaks up. “Also tell Ren to lay off. He keeps taking you away from me and our dinners.”
You bump into Vivienne playfully. “You know you’re still my number one.”
“Right. And that professor guy?”
“I have two hands,” you respond cheekily.
It’s Vivienne’s turn to bump into you this time. She also shuts the fridge door with her hip after she gets her smoothie from it. “I’ll forgive you if you remember to clean the filter in the washing machines after you use it.”
Your scoff could’ve been heard from the other side of the globe. “The apartment isn’t going to set on fire if I don’t do it one time.”
“One time every time!”
“You use it after me anyway!” You cried out in your own defense. “What’s three more loads?”
Vivienne rolls her eyes and holds out her smoothie at you like she would an accusatory finger. “When my clothes don’t dry within the first cycle, I blame you.”
“Be my guest. I’m sure you know all about that anyway, Frenchie.”
Vivienne can’t help but laugh alongside you. She swipes some of your food before sitting down on the stool seat of the kitchen, chatting amicably while you finish making your food. You find it very easy to smile when you’re around her.
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
Within another room, a charging laptop sits on a desk. A little white light on the power button reflects onto the laptop’s half-mast screen. The screen shines dully with a user’s profile in the middle, asking for a password.
Inside the computer is a program working in the background. Reading calendar dates, analyzing a document saved onto the Downloads folder, all with meticulous precision. The program loiters before one event. An event that had already transpired and should have been marked complete in its memory, but remained lingering.
Library w/ Ren
And earlier within its memory:
TurtleWithALiveJournal
Female (she/her)
Above (18+)
The program had seen the events, but weren’t there all the same. The program was not made to feel, though its wiring ordered it to annoyance. It could have referred to the other, but programs were not meant to deviate towards others. The program would work for its own answers. The program would be its best version because it needed to be.
Looking inside, a line of text stood out amongst all the various coding inputs of the program. Text that would determine its usage to its user.
7 PTS
The program would not know what this text truly meant. The program was not made to think and learn, but to repeat. To recite. To echo words it’s been told. To mimic another being.
The program was made to be efficient. And efficient was what it would be.
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You laid silently on your bed, playing with the strings of Ren’s hoodie. Your mini gaming session with him last night had been cut short after the both of you separated in game, not because the two of you hypothetically remembered you had classes the next morning, with Ren’s hypothetical class being an early 8am. However, you playing late didn’t matter much to you since your classes started late at 4pm the next day. You enjoyed the simple tasks you completed build your homestead, even if you were half awake.
However, you did find it interesting to see a familiar polka-dotted speech bubble appear on the right hand side of your screen while you were playing.
“An MMORPG? I knew you were a nerd, but I didn’t take you for that kind of nerd.”
Needless to say, the sudden commentary scared you out of Amelia’s task explanation. The weirdest thing to you was that when you tabbed out of the game to check on her, she was gone. Confused, you clicked on her app, only to see her appear again as though nothing had happened. She gave you one snide remark about talking to her so late in the night before returning back to her app after a couple of minutes of inactivity.
You looked it up later and only saw people say that it was odd for a desktop pet to not stay in the desktop screen constantly. When you found her creator’s page, you saw the following reply post tied to her original tweet about the desktop pet’s release.
@pinkaluchious • 5 yr ago
“Hey guys! I’ve had some people reach out wondering why Miranda wasn’t staying on screen constantly. That is simply because I wanted to keep her as in character as possible! Her AI works under a favoritability status, so if you’re at low points with her, she will stay outside for 0-4 minutes at a time per day, 5-10 minutes if medium points, 11-45 minutes if she likes you a lot, and forever if you reach the peak of her favorability score. I might, however, include a toggle setting in her app that keeps her outside the desktop no matter what if that’s popular. Thank you guys again for the overwhelming support on her release <3”
That seemed to answer your question on how she disappeared so fast. You were curious to find out about the toggle switch as well. Perhaps they went through with it and it was in the app?
Despite the creator’s words, something about Miranda’s commentary on your video game still felt off to you. For now, you opted to let it slide as a harmless feature of hers.
Currently, you have your laptop on your stomach in bed. You were staring at your desktop as though to see if you would catch her out-of-nowhere speech bubbles again. It was only around 5 minutes of watching and waiting for her to come out on her own, but it was enough to decide to take matters into your own hands. You clicked her app, but whom you were met with was certainly not Miranda.
“Good morning. I take it you were bored without me?”
You stared at the miniature sprite on the screen. No longer did it show a familiar fashionable girl with long red hair and sunglasses, but a stylish man leaning against your taskbar. His demeanor looked as though he had better things to do, similar to Miranda’s sprites. Conversely, his words weren’t in the red polka-dotted speech bubble you were familiar with, and instead were in a white and light blue-green striped pattern.
A pop-up appeared for you with three choices:
▶︎ Who are you?
▶︎ What happened to Miranda?
▶︎ (Move on)
You assumed that this choice system would work the same way as it did when you first met Miranda in that you could go back and click every response. You decide to click the first one.
▶︎ Who are you?
The man uses his digital hand to carefully adjust his perfectly styled red hair. When doing so, you also noticed that he didn’t have sunglasses like Miranda, but thin, frameless reading glasses that hung on his nose. He looked far more scholarly than prissy, though you know that wasn’t true because of his earlier greeting. His different speech bubble returns with his response.
“Have you been living under barnacles your whole life? Milan Berry, style expert. World-renowned editor of Look Book and heartthrob of Italy.”
That was interesting. His description was pretty much the same as Miranda’s, but his nationality was not. You knew for sure Miranda was American, even though the game Look Book took place in Paris, France. You wondered why the creator opted to make another version of Miranda’s character. A pop-up appears for you with more choices to ask him:
▶︎ And sweetheart of my computer.
▶︎ You look more like prime twink era Cristiano Ronaldo.
▶︎ Ew. Bring back Miranda.
You suddenly wished for a move on button to appear to your rescue.
You were going to choose the second option, but you suddenly remembered the creator’s explanation of Miranda’s favorability status. Did the same status apply to this Milan guy? Is he the same as Miranda or a separate character? Is it important for his favorability status to be high for him to like you?
Deciding to be safe, you move your finger on your trackpad to click the first option.
Click!
▶︎ You look more like prime twink era Cristiano Ronaldo.
Curse your slippery trackpad and your laziness to get your mouse from your desk.
You watched in bashful dread as Milan’s sprite slowly processed your choice. His expression changed to one of pompous indifference before rolling his eyes.
“Who do you think dressed him? Messi? His clothes would be tasteless without me.”
A small warning pop-up appears beside Milan’s face, though he doesn’t seem to notice. It reads:
“ ⓘ DISCLAIMER. Milan Berry did not style Cristiano Ronaldo in the 2000’s. Ronaldo dressed himself. “
You chuckled in amusement. For the first time, the creator had to intervene with MirandaPet’s (or is it now MilanPet’s?) dialogue. It humoured you that it was because they wanted to avoid a defamation lawsuit. Two choices appear again, though you were a bit bummed that it wasn’t the newest two you had just seen. The first question was gone as well, so you couldn’t go back on it. You only got one chance with them, and you already blew it with your slippery fingers.
You used your trackpad to carefully select the next button.
▶︎ What happened to Miranda?
“She’s right here,” responded Milan’s speech bubble. He gestured to himself. “Couldn’t you tell from our heartstopping appearances? We like to switch off now and then. Can’t expect one of us to stay with you constantly.”
A wave of relief fell over you now that you knew that Miranda was not gone forever. Although, you suppose that his response would require a bit of research on your end when this was over. You clicked the last one to continue speaking with Milan.
▶︎ (Move on)
Milan’s sprite walked down your taskbar until he reached the MirandaPet app.
“Wonderful. I see that you have only opened the app to summon Miranda, or in this case, me. Now, why don’t you follow me into this lovely app so that you can… actually use it?” Milan clicked open the app for you, which displayed a screen not unlike the Look Book boutique.
He moves to stand on the pedestal where mannequins usually stand for you with clothes you pick for clients. As soon as he does, his miniature sprite changes into a highly detailed illustration, kind of like it did for Miranda when you were planning your time with Ren. He looked just as beautiful as Miranda did, even with his pose being more relaxed than hers. He speaks again in a speech bubble while he fixes his already perfect hair yet again.
“I have not been given affections in two days. I feel the love, truly. Start by feeding me a slice of strawberry soft cream cake. You can find it in your inventory on the right side of the page.”
A white glow highlighted which button you needed to click. You moved your finger over and pressed on the inventory button, seeing a lone pixelated slice of cake sitting nicely in the space. Bit of a sweet tooth, you thought to yourself. You click on the cake and press the button to present it to him. He analyzes the cake like a food critic would before gracefully eating it. After a couple of seconds, he responds in a speech bubble.
“Not bad from a competitor country,” commented Milan while wiping his mouth with a napkin. “The bar above shows that my mood is down. Dear Miranda must’ve really not liked you. Compliments are more than welcome, In fact, I’d say they’re required.”
You could really tell that they were the same person now. Two options appeared in front of you. They read:
▶︎ You’re heavenly.
▶︎ You’re alright.
You wanted to be fun. You really did. However, you had an essay that needed the utmost upkeep, and you couldn’t risk Miranda giving up on you because you playfully neglected both of her sides.
▶︎ You’re heavenly.
Milan’s satisfaction bar goes up a bit. It isn’t a lot, but it’s enough to make a small difference.
Milan’s lips curl into a smug smile “Hm… that I am. You’ve pleased me enough, and I feel that I should finally try and get to know you better.”
The boutique room changes as Milan walks over one of those waiting couches guests sit on. He leans back against the couch, sitting comfortably while retaining poise. His speech bubble appears before you with a fill-in answer box for you to type in
“What is your name?”
Now.
You could put in your real name like a normal person, or you could put that name you put in for when you were playing Look Book on your DS. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard a bit before ultimately deciding to put your stupid name. They’d probably only call you “tasteless” or “classless” anyway.
▶︎ MegaCameLaude
Milan typed out your name again before responding to it.
”I would say it suits you, but I don’t know who you are or what you look like,” noted Milan. “Are you a principe or principessa? Or other, so I’ve learned.”
▶︎ Male (he/him)
▶︎ Female (she/her)
▶︎ Other (enter preference)
You stared at the options in front of you. You wondered if this behaved like other games in that each Miranda counterpart maybe has a secret preference for a certain gender. Most of the time, you liked playing as a guy in video games as you believed it was more fun and less stressful that way. However, you did secretly like the way “principessa” felt the most.
▶︎ Female (she/her)
Milan’s eyebrows raise up slightly. “A principessa? Really? Lovely to be acquainted. One final question, darling: who is R██—?”
Before you could read he had originally written, his words were quickly changed into another question. “Are you above or under 18 years of age?”
▶︎ Above (+18)
▶︎ Under (below 17)
You didn’t get to figure out what he had said at all earlier since the phrase came and went so fast. You could’ve sworn that you saw a big black censor block. Was this desktop pet secretly a horror game in disguise? You would’ve thought that there would be warnings before you downloaded it, but all you could see was “This desktop pet is not suitable for those that are sensitive to brats.” Maybe it was just a weird glitch. Your laptop probably did have a ton of viruses from downloading all those ROM hacks a year ago, anyway.
The current question on the screen did not bother you intensely because you assumed that it would dial down its cursing and other adult themes if you answered honestly. You used your finger on your trackpad to hover and eventually click the first option.
▶︎ Above (18+)
Milan smirks at you. “Wonderful, darling. That is all the questions I have for you today. I must retire here from this lovely, one-sided conversation and return to my work. These editorials are not at the place they need to be in at the moment. Was there anything else you wanted to use me for?”
▶︎ Yes
▶︎ No
You think over what you had just found out about the male counterpart of Miranda. He seemed pretty identical to her, though something about him was more… laidback? He seemed a lot more flirty with you, for lack of a better word. You wanted to learn more about him, though you figured that he wouldn’t give you any new information apart from how wonderful he was. Perhaps he would show up again pretty soon. You clicked on the second option.
▶︎ No
“Good,” affirmed Milan, his form already switching to the mini desktop version of himself with an editorial in his hand. “Then I will get to work. Do not bother me.”
MirandaPet closed its application on its own while Milan sat on the edge of your laptop’s taskbar. He used the editorial in his hands to write inside it, already “hard at work.” You let him be and shut your laptop closed.
You should eat breakfast.
You check your phone’s clock.
You should eat lunch.
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You spot Ren waving a hand over to you from where he’s seated in the library.
Before you arrived at the library to meet with Ren, you spent your day stressing about your essay and doing nothing about it. Other than that, you were also spending some time playing other modded games on your DS and scrolling through your phone. You even asked Vivienne if she wanted to watch a movie with you while eating lunch before she would have to leave for work. You hadn’t opened the MirandaPet app since this morning, though your curiosity for it never waned.
You waved back at Ren and approached his table with your things in hand. Once getting closer, you could see in closer detail the way his bleached blonde hair was slightly messed up from being under a hoodie, which was now draped over a chair next to him since the library hadn’t had its AC fixed in the 50 years it’s been built. His narrow yet thick black-framed glasses sat on his nose, just barely covering his small eye bags over his lightly sun-kissed skin. Inspecting his clothes like a Miranda truther, you looked over the simple oversized grey t-shirt he wore over baggy dark wash denim jeans. You also spot the black watch over his wrist that you had gifted him for his birthday last year after one too many “I’d look so smart with a watch.”
You placed your backpack down on an empty chair and began setting up your laptop and notebook filled with notes. Like always, Ren stayed still and quiet while you pulled everything necessary out of your bag. After sitting down and getting properly situated, Ren spoke up.
“4 hours.”
You stared at him blankly in confusion. “4 hours of what?”
“Doomscrolling,” replied Ren. “I made a new game while waiting for you. I look around the room and guess how many hours people spent doomscrolling before getting here. I’m guessing you spent 4 hours.”
Ren sure does have a certain way of starting conversation, you thought to yourself. “Get better at it. I spent 3 hours.”
“Balls.”
You opened your computer, opting to just ignore him and get started on your work. Ren quickly interrupts you again.
“Oh come on. I was earlier than you. Can we not do work for a bit?” Ren whined.
You rolled your eyes before responding. “You’re so fussy. I spent all day worrying about this essay. I’m going to work on it.”
“5 minutes.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Please mo—“
“Oh my god. Don’t mortify me like that again,” you said, an embarrassed chill running through your body. You were at the very least grateful that he didn’t get to finish his sentence.
“Yay,” Ren cheers. “I win. How’s my fit?”
You glanced up from your screen, looking at his outfit half covered by the table. “On what scale?”
“10’s the highest, 1 is also the highest.” You immediately shake your head.
“I’m making my own,” you responded. “You look less performative than normal.”
“Take it back.”
“Nope,” you respond, popping the “p” sound.
Ren laughs lightly. “You’re so sassy today.”
His words make you think back to Miranda. Your eyes glance at her app icon without even meaning to. You turn your attention back on your open document. “Viv’s rubbing off on me.”
Ren gave you a disgruntled look. “Vivienne is not sassy.”
“Yes, she is!” You retort, your head snapping to face him.
“She’s blunt,” argued Ren. “That’s different.”
“You don’t live with her. How would you know?” you defended.
Ren shrugs his shoulders. “That’s true. Still. You’re a different sassy.”
You furrow your brows at him while working. “Are there levels to how sassy someone can be?”
“Mhm,” nodded Ren. “You’re sitting comfortably at the above average levels of sassiness.”
“We’re done with this.”
“You know I’m funny.”
“Oh, shut up,” you muttered while trying to focus on typing.
After a couple more attempts from Ren to distract from doing his work, the both of you got into a smooth line of work. With some soft background music playing in your earbuds, you had started getting through your essay steadily. Writing your analysis, making sure your sources were peer-reviewed, changing sources that weren’t, all the necessary things that would help elevate your paper.
What you didn’t expect, however, was being visited by a guest.
Miranda’s small form popped up from the corner of your screen, making you jolt in your seat. Ren gave you a confused gaze, of which you awkwardly smiled and waved him off.
“Got chills.”
Ren stared at you skeptically for a couple of seconds. With ample time of him staring into all the rods and cones of your eyes, he gestured to his hoodie over the chair. “You can take my hoodie.”
You weren’t expecting that level of generosity from him. A faint fluttery feeling blossoms in your gut, but you choose to ignore it. You laughed lightly. “I’m good, thanks. I’d rather not get Dior Sauvage on me.”
“Funny that you think I can afford that.”
“I literally saw it on your bathroom counter last week.”
Ren huffed under his breath. “Sue me for wanting to be the alpha.”
Ren’s rebuttal gets lost in your ears when you see Miranda’s speech bubble appear in front of your paper.
“You spelt ‘unceremoniously’ wrong.”
You watch as Miranda’s speech bubble goes away and your spelling mistake gets resolved by her. Just as you were going to reach for your keyboard again, another speech bubble appears beside your mouse.
“There should be a comma after you use this semicolon. Did you fail high school English or something?” noted Miranda before she corrected your sentence.
Your fingers didn’t move to your keyboard, as though checking to see if Miranda was going to make another jab at your writing. When nothing occurred, you reached for your mouse–
“You look like you’re using MLA citation formatting. The page numbers should be at the end, not the year the source was made. Dr. Papasolomou worked hard for that PhD. Cite her properly. This sentence is a run-on, cut it in half. This sentence is the exact opposite. Why the hell are you ending a paragraph on a quote? If I was your professor, I would’ve curb stomped your ass with my Jimmy Choos outside a 7-Eleven for making a mistake 15 year olds make. You put your first name on the page number header instead of your last.”
You were this close to ripping her digital silver earrings out and stabbing all sixteen pixels at yourself.
“Are you okay?”
You turned your head to see Ren looking at you with an almost bewildered expression. You realized you were visibly fuming at your computer. Realistically, you could tell him about the desktop pet you downloaded. He would probably be one of the only ones who would get it, apart from maybe a little bit of teasing. However, something about telling others about you owning a digital manifestation of a fictional character living inside of your desktop for you to take care of felt odd to you. You were still a bit too embarrassed about how much you constantly think about this bratty little bundle of ones and zeroes.
“Yes,” you respond in a clipped tone. “Just frustrated with a… source.”
Ren stared at you blankly before slowly nodding his head. He clearly didn’t buy your excuse, but chose not to pry. “Right. Good thing I brought this.”
He digs inside his lunchbox and hands you a cold energy drink. Looking in, you could see a pack of dry ice, as well as a hidden can of Dos Equis that he was no doubt hoarding for himself.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”
“Can’t wait!”
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
You got around four pages of your twelve page paper done by 1:45am. You would’ve gotten more done if the library didn’t close at 2am. You were currently walking back towards your apartment with Ren, who was just making sure your “meek nerd body didn’t get stabbed.” The sentiment was nice even if his delivery was hypocritical. He was a bigger nerd than you, but the distinction he made was that he was lean. Besides, his apartment complex was minutes away from yours, so he was technically walking home too.
“It’s like I reached the top of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.”
Oh yeah, and he was bragging about how he got all his work done and you didn’t.
“That’s not how that works,” you respond tiredly.
“Yes it does. You’re just jealous.”
“Obviously.”
He adjusted his hoodie over himself. The wind had gotten a bit chillier this late at night. “I bet I also could’ve written your whole paper before the library closed too.”
“Your work didn’t count,” you said. “Yours was due today. Mine is due on Thursday. I actually took my time.”
That was half a lie. You did take your time to make sure you wrote your best, but Miranda was also busy correcting every single sentence you made. She maybe pushed your writing back by an hour and a half. You hated to admit it, but maybe it was to your benefit. You felt like your writing has never been more clear yet distinctly yours.
“Whatever. Wanna play Mabinogi when we’re home?” asked Ren. His usually apathetic expression looked back at you cheekily.
“It’s 2 in the morning.”
“Okay,” responded Ren. “... Yes or no.”
“My laptop’s dead.”
Ren stared at you incredulously. “So charge it?”
“I’d rather not take off while playing,” you responded with an unamused expression.
Ren scoffed at your concern. “Your fans aren’t that loud.”
“It’s a Macbook,” you argued. “It’s not the sticky gamer laptop you have.”
“PC.”
“You’re only proving my point.”
The two of you kept walking towards your apartment buildings. Your hands were stuffed inside your clothing to try and warm them up. It wasn’t outrageously cold, but the gusts of wind blowing at you did not make walking any easier for you. Ren, who was noticing how cold you were getting while walking, wordlessly took off his hoodie and offered it to you.
“Guys don’t get cold,” he said while holding the hoodie out to you.
“Liar.”
“Can you just accept my monthly act of goodwill and take the goddamn hoodie?”
You stared at the hoodie he had offered to you. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t done playing in his face. “But the Dior Sauvage…”
Ren rolled his eyes with a groan. “Would it kill you to smell like it for a night? You’re freezing your ass off.”
“It really would,” you responded. “Do you know how many hot people are using the gym at night?”
“None. Losers go to the gym at 2am.”
“That’s my type, though…” you whined, still not taking the hoodie yet.
Ren fell silent at your words for a couple of seconds. His lips turned upwards into a smug look. “Ok. Will you amuse this loser by taking his hoodie?”
“I’m going to throw up.”
“Take it before I suffocate you with it.”
Finally, you take the hoodie from him and put it on over yourself. “Thanks.”
“Yup.”
The both of you continued walking ahead, your shivering subsided now that you wore his large and annoyingly comfortable hoodie.
“So, Mabinogi?”
You groaned tiredly. “No.”
“I’ll trade you the Afternoon Tea Dress.”
“Will you match?”
“… For tonight.”
“We’ll play for an hour.”
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☁︎.. HTMLovers.com/chapter02
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You woke up pretty late in the day.
With no alarms scheduled for that morning, nothing stopped you from waking up at 11:45am. You groggily got up from bed and walked out of your room and into your apartment’s kitchen.
Being that you were having a late start to the day, you opted for a quick and simple breakfast—a Pop-Tart. Usually you reserved them for when you were running late for a morning lecture, but you would make a pass for today. With your light breakfast, you sat down on your couch and turned on the TV. Vivienne left on Sunday mornings to the gym and wouldn’t be back until 12:30, so you weren’t worried about bothering her.
While watching an episode of the show you put on, you suddenly remembered the impulsive choice you made last night. The desktop pet. You hadn’t actually opened it to see what it was like. Just as you were about to scarf the rest of your Pop-Tart and return to your room, your phone began ringing.
Picking your device up, you saw the caller ID was of one of your closest friends, Ren Kaneko. You met in one of your GenEd classes and have grown close with his small friend group. He was very shy when you first met him, though he opened up to you pretty quickly. His dry humor took some getting used to, but you found it very charming after you began understanding him more.
Sometimes. He could be a dick too. It was sometimes hard to tell if he liked you at all.
He was currently majoring in Computer Engineering and you both shared an interest in old gaming consoles and video games. He owned quite a few and would invite you over to his dorm to play on them occasionally. He held an interest in PC building for clients as a side hobby and made some decent money off of it. Ren was actually the one that helped you mod your DS.
You picked it up and balanced your phone on your shoulder. “Hi.”
“Your butt cream’s outside.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“In a minute. Just asking if the modding worked out alright for you.” responded Ren. His voice was a little staticky, so you assumed he was outside.
“Oh yeah, It did! I played a couple games last night. Thanks by the way.”
“Yeah of course. I was just wondering if I can also get OBS set up so you can stream it to us. If you want. The video quality will be shit from a butt, though.”
Your eyes lit up, a smile appearing on your lips before you could stop it. “No way! That sounds so cool, please do. I feel like Kiyoshi would love this game I’m playing right now.”
“‘Kay, let me know.”
You stood up from your couch to throw away the Pop-Tart wrapper. You could still hear the crackly noise of him outside. “Where are you, by the way?”
“Drinking margs at Chili’s.”
You scoffed immediately. “Grown ass man.”
“What do you mean, I’m 22-teen,” responded Ren. You could hear the sound of a door closing behind him.
“Who drinks margaritas at 12pm?”
“Me,” said Ren. “… Okay, fine, I was picking up food.”
“What’d you order?”
Silence. You had to pull your phone back down to your eyes to see that he hung up. You opened his contact to text him.
“Bitch.”
You turn off your phone, ending your conversation with Ren. You got up from the couch and walked into your room. Before you logged into your computer, you decided to get ready for the day first. You got changed, brushed your teeth, washed your face, and applied your makeup. You finished fixing up your appearance and left your bathroom. At the same time, you could hear the front door of your apartment open and close. Vivienne must have gotten home.
You sat down at your desk and opened your laptop. After waiting for it to turn on, you signed in with your password and watched as your desktop slowly appeared in front of you. You moved your mouse over to the MirandaPet icon and clicked on it. A pop-up with Miranda’s face in the bottom appeared with the following message:
“Thank you for downloading MirandaPet! To get started, click and drag Miranda over to your desktop and let go!”
You use your mouse and click on Miranda’s pixelated face in the pop-up. You drag it over to your desktop and drop her. You watch as the rest of her body begins to animate in until her full form stands at your task bar. She blinks at the screen for a couple of seconds before a polka-dotted speech bubble appears above her.
“Miranda Berry,” she flips her hair behind her, “a pleasure it is for you to meet me.”
You smiled at the screen. It was nice to see that she was already very in character.
You snapped out of your amusement when another pop-up appeared, detailing a couple of buttons with different dialogue options for you to choose from:
▶︎ What can you do?
▶︎ What can your app do?
▶︎ Can you help organize my calendar?
▶︎ You’re beautiful.
▶︎ Get bent you washed up Wintour wannabe.
▶︎ (Move on)
Normally, you would go through the first three questions just so that you could know what an actual desktop pet is. However, you turned your head and glanced at your DS. She was so picky in the last few levels you played yesterday that you couldn’t help but project some of your frustration onto the innocent pet.
Click!
▶︎ Get bent you washed up Wintour wannabe.
Miranda’s sprite on your desktop mimics a mocking giggle animation before responding in her polka-dotted speech bubble. “How cute. You’re soft. Let’s try again.”
The dialogue options appeared once again, although this time the last option wasn’t available. You decided to go through the list.
▶︎ What can you do?
Typing ellipses appear in Miranda’s speech bubble before she responds. “Was my app a mirage? Did you just, like, not read the download page?”
Another typing bubble appears. “Ugh. Whatever. I can organize your calendar, remind you of homework deadlines, and act as a grammer assistant. No doubt your slow ass will need it.”
You chuckled. Look Book obviously didn’t include actual swearing for Miranda as it was intended for kids to play—though, with how difficult the gameplay was, you highly doubted kids enjoyed it—so it was surprising to see her curse. You hoped her quips remained just as clever.
Another pop up appeared, though this time it didn’t hold numerous dialogue options.
▶︎ You spelt ‘grammar’ wrong.
Miranda’s sprite expression shifted into an annoyed one with a little red tick mark appearing on her head. “Oh?? Did I? What, do you think you’re better than me? I’m a fashion genius, not a grammar natzi. This bit is scripted anyway. Nice work falling into that one.”
You watched as her sprite reached up and swatted the popup with “your” response away. The previous dialogue options appeared yet again with her sprite facing you with an unamused expression. You hovered your mouse over the third question. You supposed you could use her help scheduling your library date with Ren tonight.
▶︎ Can you help organize my calendar?
Miranda typed for a couple of seconds before responding. “Right. Already putting me to work. You people can’t do anything.”
You furrowed your brows. Wasn’t this her job? You knew that she was supposed to be bratty and mean, however you were curious to see just how long she was actually going to keep this up. You clicked on your preferred calendar app and watched Miranda disappear and suddenly reappear in a fully detailed illustration of her on the right side of your screen. She looked stunning, as far as two-dimensional drawings can go.
Miranda’s specialized speech bubble appeared by her head. “Let’s start with scheduling one event. What are you planning for?”
Another pop-up appeared for you to type your answer into. You hovered over your keyboard for a couple of seconds before responding simply.
▶︎ Library w/ Ren
“Wonderful. Your WPM was 40. What are you, 73? Let’s take a break from typing before I die from boredom. Tell me when your event starts and ends.”
A pop-up appeared that allowed you to input how much time you’d be spending with Ren. You remembered that Ren had never actually responded to see if he was available at 7:30, the time that you suggested. You sighed in annoyance. You were going to keep it anyway, he was probably playfully ignoring you again. Subconsciously aware of Miranda’s comment on your typing speed, you answered a bit faster than usual.
▶︎ 7:30pm — 1:30am
Miranda’s more detailed eyebrows furrowed together. “Oh my god, relax. Your laptop isn’t going to grow wings and fly away. When will this event be happening?”
A pop-up with a scrolling wheel of different dates appeared before you. There was also a button on the bottom right with the label “Today’s date.” You clicked on the bottom button.
“Your event is done. There’s more you can do with me obviously, but I’m fed up right now. Let’s move on.”
Miranda’s detailed illustration slid away from the right and was replaced again with her miniature desktop pet form. The dialogue options appeared before you again. You hovered over the second question.
▶︎ What can your app do?
“Finally, a real question not on the download page,” Miranda typed a little longer before responding. “Not only does using the app summon me and my services, but my app is also designed like a typical tamagotchi. You can feed me a variety of different foods, dress me up in different unlockable clothing the more your to-do list gets completed, and finally customize my bedroom. Let’s see if you manage to impress me well enough for me to allow you to even look at my residence.”
You took a second to take in her explanation. Admittedly, this desktop pet stuff went way deeper than you originally thought. You thought she would just walk around your desktop and occasionally speak to you. Her AI was actually more similar to a traditional 90s desktop assistant that offered more benefits than just looking cute.
The previous dialogue options appeared yet again, though you only had two left. You didn’t find much interest in the fourth option and clicked the last one.
▶︎ (Move on)
Miranda’s speech bubble appeared above her. Her expression morphed into an expectant look.
“Uh. I think you forgot one.”
You were transferred right back to the dialogue options. The same two appeared. Curious to see how far you could take this, you remained stubborn.
▶︎ (Move on)
“You think this is funny?”
Dialogue pop-up again. You were determined.
▶︎ (Move on)
“Nope.”
▶︎ (Move on)
“It’s pivotal for my intelligence as an assistant to you.”
▶︎ (Move on)
“Nope.”
Just before you could click “Move on” again, your dialogue options changed.
▶︎ You’re beautiful.
▶︎ You’re stunning.
▶︎ You’re gorgeous.
You rolled your eyes. You didn’t know how her conceited personality managed to slip your mind just then.
▶︎ You’re beautiful.
Miranda’s sprite smiled smugly at the screen. “I kinda like gorgeous more.”
Your options appeared before you again. You sighed and clicked the one she wanted.
▶︎ You’re gorgeous.
Miranda’s expression changed to one in thought. “Hm… actually, I changed my mind, I liked stunning.”
A pop-up with your options appeared again. You feared Miranda’s need for attention overrode your stubbornness to annoy her.
▶︎ You’re stunning.
Miranda adjusted the purse over her shoulder while her next text bubble appeared before her. “I actually loved beautiful the whole time. Call me beautiful.”
Your eye twitched as your options appeared before you again, only this time, they were all “You’re beautiful.” You clicked on one of them.
▶︎ You’re beautiful.
“Ahh… never gets old. Now, I have matters to attend to and I’m sure there’s a couch out there calling for your name. I will learn about you… hm. Some other time, I’m sure. Toodles.”
Miranda’s sprite gave you a small nod before she walked to the edge of your taskbar and sat down. Her sprite grabbed a large book from her purse and began writing inside it. You could immediately tell that was her actual look book from the game and she was currently editing some looks inside.
You supposed you could end your interaction with MirandaPet for now. You would look into her app another time. For now, you wanted some free time before you would have to work on your essay with Ren later tonight. You shut off your laptop and were about to move to your bed before your phone vibrated. You picked it up to see a text from Ren.
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☁︎.. HTMLovers.com/chapter01
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Rather than go out with your friends or god forbid opening a dating app, you opted to stay in your apartment playing shitty fashion games you modded in on your old DS. Maybe you should have been putting your energy into working on an essay due within the week, but Alyssa's wedge heels with a gala gown was too horrid to ignore.
"Wow. I've seen more inspired pieces from Animal Planet. You know, like the animals before they're skinned for their fur."
Right. And there was the main reason you modded the game judging your choices yet again. Miranda Berry. A redheaded fashionista with high style and higher standards from the game "Look Book." You don't think you've seen her smile politely at the screen once in her poor quality 2D sprites. Her berating didn't stop at you, either. You found it exceedingly hilarious whenever she would tell off the clients coming into her store with a frumpy olive sweater and tights taken from an eccentric grandma from the 1900s. Early 2000s games used to be so beautifully brutal.
"Alyssa? Please stop visually assaulting me. Go back to Burlington and stay there. TurtleWithALiveJournal? Just so you know, these are pity coins."
Miranda's character resurfaced after her deep burial in ancient online forums. You personally did not play her game when you were younger, though after trying and failing to get Style Savvy from Bookmans over several months, you decided that modding a similar game would suffice. Now playing it, you could understand why this game didn't do well in the market upon its release.
Most of the game was pretty scuffed and you couldn't really do much other than set outfits and have Miranda judge them cruelly. There was no multiplayer option, the items in the store were ridiculously over-priced for how little coins Miranda gives you, and the NPCs that would come into the store didn't have too much personality. Sometimes her polka-dot speech bubbles would clip through her text as well.
Throughout playing, however, you found something oddly charming about this Americanized copy of the Japanese game you were looking for. This snobby hot girl judging your soul itched a craving within you that simple cozy games couldn't reach. Her rudeness was so unlike other NPCs that only existed to compliment and cherish you. You supposed you wanted more fire from your characters so that it felt satisfying when you fought hard to achieve their validation.
You need to go to class.
You shut off your DS after a bit of playing and threw it aside. You grabbed your bag with your items and left your bedroom. Before leaving, you waved to your roommate while unlocking the door.
"Heading to class. Bdubs at 7?"
Your roommate, Vivienne, turned her head up to face you. She had soft features on mixed skin, predominately her big lips and long lashes. Her black hair was silk pressed into a high ponytail. She wore a white headband with her edges curled and framing her round face. She mostly wore slim athletic track suits and skirts, as she modeled for a sports apparel brand and got to keep most of the items.
She curtly shook her head. "Need to cut down on junk food. Salad and Go?"
You gave her a narrowed glance. "Girl. Flat Stanley is your cousin. Bdubs."
You wondered if playing Look Book was having an influence on your personality.
"I don't know who that is," Vivienne responded. "But no. I don't want wings."
You leaned against the wall, staring at her quietly. "Then what are you craving?"
"Salad," she responded, being sure to enunciate each syllable.
"Ugh," you scoffed. You wanted to punch her manager's face most of the time. "Fine. We'll eat True Blends. Their menu is general and vegan enough."
Vivienne smiled at you, clearly pleased she beat you out. "Have fun in class."
"Love you, pretty girl." You called out before leaving the apartment and heading to your lecture.
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
You couldn't stop thinking about Miranda.
Was this how gross men felt about their waifus?
She didn't need to do much to have you utterly wrapped around her digital manicured finger. Perhaps you did need to download a dating app again. Lecture crushes weren't going to cut it for you. To you, it was just easier to like something fictional so that you wouldn't have to go through the arduous steps of getting to know someone.
Vivienne didn't know what she was talking about when she was calling you "emotionally unavailable." You were honestly just surprised to know that she actually knew what those words were in English before French. You wouldn't be surprised if she picked up a thesaurus just to berate you.
Currently, you were both eating at True Blends. You were stuffing your face with the food you ordered while Vivienne ate her kale sweet potato salad with chicken like a princess would eat an éclair. The restaurant was pretty empty being that only crazy people like your roommate would eat organic salads and burgers for dinner.
"Did you ever play Look Book as a kid?"
God, you needed a job.
"What?" asked Vivienne, turning her head up to look at you with a confused expression.
"Look Book," you responded, as if repeating the name would make her understand what you were talking about.
"... You mean like the real fashion thing or–?"
"–No," you interrupted. "Well– yes, that's the reference, but it's not that. It was a DS game about creating fashion looks for clients. Had a mean judge girl? Miranda?"
"Priestly?"
"Uh... no. Come to think of it, she is very similar though."
"Maybe that was the point," Vivienne suggested with a shoulder shrug. She took another forkful of her salad.
"... Maybe. Anyway, so?" You asked, your expression far too expectant. She kept staring at you with a quiet bewildered expression.
"... No," responded Vivienne. "I played Mario Kart once, I guess."
You sighed. You don't know why you asked, to be honest. The reputation of the game was small enough as is.
"Ah... it's a DS game. I just got it for myself and it's pretty fun, is all. Pretty impossible to progress though." You explained, taking another bite out of your food. "Just curious if you knew about it."
Vivienne stared at you blankly. Coldly? Perhaps it was a European thing to stare bluntly into someone's pupils while thinking. "I don't play video games."
"Right..." You picked at your food for a couple of seconds. "It must be boring living like you."
"Like a model with an active social life?"
"Yeah," you responded curtly. "Where's the hobbies? The ovulating suspense of someone maybe asking you out knowing you're viscously undesirable?"
The other woman tsked at your words. "You know you could get anyone you want, too. You seem to forget you're also very beautiful."
"Hmph," you shrugged, taking another bite of your food. "I'd rather not plague our beautiful home. Wanna eat box later?"
Vivienne chuckled at your response and ate another forkful of her salad. "You're such a nerd."
"You love me," you teased, slowly smiling at her.
"Absolutely not."
"You super love me."
"Nope."
"It's creepy how badly you're obsessed with me, Viv."
"You're the creepy shut-in."
You scoffed at her words. "I'm not creepy!"
Vivienne gave you a pointed glance. "You're a little creepy."
"Name one time I was creepy."
Vivienne pointed her fork at you before speaking. "Last week, you called your professor–"
"–That was literally not that bad–"
"–a hot piece of ass second only to prime RDJ."
You stared at her blankly, a frown painted across your lips. You were highly unamused by her smirking triumphant expression. "At least I eat carbs."
Vivienne glared at you, dropping her fork into her bowl. "I do eat carbs–"
"Not enough!"
ᢉ𐭩 . ˚
You really weren't trying to prove Vivienne's point of being a creepy shut-in, but sometimes it was healthy to own labels.
You were in bed scrounging the Internet on your laptop to look for anything related to Look Book. You looked through cheat codes, outfit discussions, some unfortunate fanarts of some of the clients and Miranda herself, but nothing resulted in anything substantial. Everything you found was oddly dated five years ago, which is odd considering the game was much older than that. Furthermore, searching it up confirmed that there was a burst in popularity with the phrase "Look Book" five years ago, so something must have happened then.
You looked everywhere. Possible remake announcements—there was no such project happening—, a pilot animated series, even new music by the game's soundtrack designer. Nothing. There was nothing official released in that year span that would indicate a reemergence in popularity.
You were currently scrolling through old blog posts as a last-ditch effort to find a small community. You found some tier lists of Miranda's quips, outfit decisions, and other subjects that only mildly interested you. It was at least entertaining seeing others talk about the game even when you were a couple years behind.
Just as you were about to shut your laptop and call it a night, you found it. A post made five years ago from an anonymous user.
@/pinkaluchious • 5 yr ago
"After a troubling production cycle, I'm proud to announce the completion of the desktop pet addon available for Windows & Mac for Miranda Berry! She can walk around your desktop and—as I'm sure most of you know if you've been following—bullies you to do your homework if you connect it to your education platform! Be nice to her world—really, she might butcher you if you aren't!"
A desktop pet!
You honestly hadn't expected that to be what gains her popularity back momentarily. You suppose it is a very 2000s way to come back essentially as a tamagotchi for the modern era. You were especially curious about the education platform function she appears to have. Does that mean she acts as an addon for your college browser and can actually help you stay on top of coursework? You could use the extra help, since your calendar was in a state of complete disarray.
You'll admit, it is very tempting. You've never downloaded a desktop pet before, but you are slightly wary of it having access to your college coursework site. What if the pet was actually spyware and your personal information from your college website would be stolen and used? That could set you back for a while for school, and just the thought of it was enough to make you back up for a second.
After scrolling through the comments of the announcement post, you were slightly relieved that the desktop pet was received very positively. Someone had even asked if it was spyware, and the programmer had comforted the user saying that all of Miranda's code was public and free use, so people could see for themselves if it was running as it should be. They also assured users to contact them if she did do anything suspicious just in case.
"Party rock."
You downloaded the zip file containing the application for the desktop pet. You waited quietly in the darkness of your room while watching its progress bar. Checking the time confirmed to you that it was 3:30am on a Sunday. You would have to get started on that essay when you wake up. After mindlessly moving your mouse around your desktop screen, a micro ding! sound effect rang through your laptop speakers.
Finished downloading.
You stared at the app now sitting on your desktop. It was a high relief vector graphic of the top half of Miranda's face with her eyes shut. She was monochromatic with the deep-red in her hair and eyes having a subtle tartan pattern. The caption beneath it read "MirandaPet."
You debated for a couple of seconds to see if you should open the app tonight and allow the desktop version of Miranda into your laptop, but your exhaustion had officially caught up to you. You shut your laptop and placed it back on your desk with its charger. You then plopped back down on your bed, threw your comforter back over yourself, and let yourself drift off to slumber.
Tomorrow would be the day you hoped your life would change for the better.
HTMLovers.com · next
© MYLODIES — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. do not recycle my work into AI learning models.
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header photo © 2012 Nintendo Style Savvy: Trendsetters
MirandaPet App Design [art by @cherritune]
Miranda Desktop Appearance [art by @cherritune]
Miranda Sketches [art by @cherritune]
HTMLovers Cover Design [collaged by me, i can’t find the illustrator’s artist, but it points to (c)enakei(?)]
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fem/male!yandere x fem!reader
After discovering that an old video game from the 2000s had a fanmade desktop pet for one of its main characters, you, a reclusive college student, made quick work to download the addon onto your computer. However, what started as a bratty fashionable pet berating you for ignoring your homework grew into an oppressive and suffocating presence in your life.
also available on quotev and ao3
01 — MirandaPet
02 — You’re Beautiful
03 — Helping Hand
04 — The Other One
05 — A History Lesson
06 — Race to the Runway
07 — under maintenance…
08 — under maintenance…
exclusive items (batch 01) — includes art for HTMLovers
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header photo © 2011 Koei Tecmo Fab Style
ORIGINAL WORKS
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header photo © 2012 Nintendo Style Savvy: Trendsetters
fics
HTMLovers · fem/male!yandere x fem!reader
After discovering that an old video game from the 2000s had a fanmade desktop pet for one of its main characters, you, a reclusive college student, made quick work to download the addon onto your computer. However, what started as a bratty fashionable pet berating you for ignoring your homework grew into an oppressive and suffocating presence in your life.
also available on quotev and ao3
oneshots
under maintenance…
smaus
under maintenance…
© MYLODIES — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. do not recycle my work into AI learning models.