Prompt: Guess who's back? Quantumwrites: Using exactly 666 words, write a story about a ridiculous amount of puppies and how the main characters would react to them. This time, I challenge you to use the word "confusticate" at least three times. I wish you luck, my friend.
Word Count: 666 - Characters: Jeremy Heere, Christine Canigula, Miss Canigula (Christine’s Mom), Squip - Ships: N/A
Notes: Puppies? Seriously? Ok. Puppies are cute. I used your word in past tense because the story is in past tense. Also, I’m taking “Miss Canigula is an animal rescuer” headcanon to my freaking grave.
Slobbery kisses slathered all over Jeremy’s face as the lanky boy tried to push down the eager puggle down. “He sure does like to give love!” Jeremy exclaimed, shooing the dog back to Christine.
“He takes after his mother, clearly,” Christine expressed, whistling to help lead the puppy, named Lloyd. “I just wish we could keep him longer. That’s the problem with foster dogs. You eventually gotta give them back. I wish I could have more of the furballs. My mom is bound to get Lloyd some friends for him!”
The faint buzzing in Jeremy’s head slowly grew inside as his eyes caught a projection from the other side of the room. The Squip. No fear crept into Jeremy’s skin as it once did. A shot of Red Mountain Dew usually shut them down quickly. The teenage boy went towards his backpack, opening it and beginning to search for the juice boxes that held the discontinued mountain dew.
Christine noted Jeremy who seemed to be confusticated by the backpack. “Jer? You looking for some- wait. Is it here?” Suddenly on edge, Chris stood up, looking right then left.
Jeremy calmed her down. “They’re fine. They’re over there.” He pointed to where the Squip was now looking at the puppy with curiosity. “Squip, you alright?”
The Squip nodded, then looked at Jeremy. Their form shimmered, translucent in the light. “There will be more.”
Once again, Jeremy looked as confusticated as before, probably more. “More what, Squip? Puppies?”
At that moment, a loud slam of the door shook both teens off their respective seats in the living room. Loud barking followed as well as what seemed like a million feet trampling the floor.
Puppies. Loads of furballs filled the rooms. Loud laughter came from the front door as Miss Canigula stepped into the living room, holding four puppies in addition to the twenty or so running over her feet.
“Mama, where did you get all these puppies?” Christine cried out, jumping onto the couch to try to avoid the hundreds of dogs now running amongst her feet. She glanced over to see Jeremy being attacked by a group of puppies who must’ve thought he tasted like the best batch of bacon bites ever.
“Oh liu! Hello. Hello, Jeremy. I got them from a puppy mill. They were trapped, so I brought them home!” Christine’s mother began to talk in another language in what sounded like baby talk to the puppies now nibbling on her shoelaces. The woman started to point them out, ignoring her daughter’s confusticated face. “This is Annabel! And this is Mascot and Han-Mi. Oh! And Hank. Aww, Byron.”
The buzzing in Jeremy’s head got louder as the Squip seemed to poof from view. “I’m not dealing with this” came a warbled voice inside his head. Thanks for nothing, Squip.
“B-But Mama! You can’t just have a whole pack of puppies running around the house!” Christine began to express her discontent angrily.
Jeremy attempted to get off the couch, carefully trying to maneuver through the sea of tails and ears, hoping desperately not to step on one. “I-I think I’m... I had better… leave.” He called to Christine over the loud barking of puppies. A few of the rascals still grasped on to Jeremy’s shoelaces, pulling him backward. Normally, he would’ve been able to just knock them off, but with so many puppies Jeremy felt himself lose balance.
“Help!” He cried as Jeremy landed belly-flop onto the carpet. The Squip materialized in front of him as Jeremy’s blue eyes caught the projection.
“If it was this easy to control you originally, I should’ve made a puppy form. They’re surprisingly strong.” A flash and blue-green puppy stood in front of Jeremy. It was glitching and very faint, but Jeremy felt his fingers being removed from the carpet he was holding on to. Jeremy felt himself lose his grip was dragged back into the never-ending sea of barks and happy puppy kisses.
Prompt: Using exactly 666 words, no more no less, describe an average day in the eyes of the Squip. Include as much detail as possible: their thoughts, feelings, anything! Also, I challenge you to use the word "phantasmagorical" at least three times. Look it up, it's a real word. Good luck!
Word Count: 666 - Characters: The Squip, Jeremy Heere - Ships: Michael/Jeremy (Mentioned)
Notes: why must you do this to me, Anon? It was an awesome challenge, but why.
The Squip groaned, facepalming once again as Jeremy ran into the trashcan. “And this is why you can not stare at Michael’s ass all day!” They exclaimed angrily. Jeremy ignored them, like always. With the Red Mountain Dew in his system, the Squip’s processor is regularly fried and weakened. They wondered if it was just this eternal torture they were going to live through or if the end was nearing. They hoped for the latter.
Soon enough Jeremy was in Math class. Being a supercomputer, the Squip found this boring. Incredibly boring, so instead they decided they’d take a trip. “Heh. Like a human vacation.” They chuckled to themselves, and they dipped into Jeremy’s brain. It was interesting here. There were many things in this phantasmagorical brain of his. Fursuits, sushi rolls, video game characters and fears all had their own place and mixed together in a beautiful blend of chaos. Squip hated it. It was disorganized, messy and just didn’t make any sense!
If they had their way, the Squip would have long ago cleaned up this place and filled it with important stuff. Like how to actually kiss girls (and guys) correctly and how to properly do a push-up. “And, oh I don’t know, how not to run into the garbage can every single day!” The Squip suddenly looked away from the phantasmagorical to shout angrily at the equally confusing sky. “Is it that hard to take two point five steps to the left?” They groaned. No use arguing with the idiotic teen now, especially since they couldn’t talk to him.
The Squip suddenly found themselves at a dark door. “Fears” it was labeled with a backward E. “Seriously?” The Squip scoffed and opened it. They didn’t react to the fat clown that had jumped out as soon as they had stepped in the door. They also didn’t respond when Michael shouted at them, saying they were unwanted and the worst friend ever. However, one singular chest caught their eye.
It didn’t have a label, and it seemed sort of locked away. The supercomputer scoffed before easily picking the lock. The computer slowly opened it. A large gush of air poured out along with shadows, and loud cackling sounded from within the box. Why the Squip shaking? They weren’t scared. No, no, no.
The crackling of electricity sounded from inside the box, a dark figure rising from it. “Jeremy Heere.” A voice said. The Squip’s eyes grew wide. A fanged, red-haired figure stood before them. “Welcome to your super quantum Intel processor.” It hissed its S’s. “Your Squip.” The false computer launched at the Squip, growling, and hissing. “You want to be chill! You want to be popular!”
The Squip shook their head, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Was that the word? The Squip had never felt like this. They felt… delicate, emotional. “You pathetic humans!” The Squip shouted, grabbing at the real Squip’s arm. The Squip looked to find their metallic skin now darkly-shaded and fleshy.
“N-No! I don’t like this!” They screamed, pulling their hand away and desperately trying to get to the door, back to the phantasmagorical dimension. “Help me! Jeremy! Please!” The computer-made-human crawled, trying to escape the large pixels the fear-fueled Squip was now throwing angrily.
“Everything about you is terrible. Everything about you deserves to die!” It shouted, tearing apart the dark world. So many feelings began to bubble up at the words. Worthlessness? Depression? Anxiety? Fear? That was the loudest: fear at its truest, purest form. A harsh pressure in their chest, a loud pounding in their head, a tight clenching in their stomach. Is this what it was like to have a panic attack? Is this what Jeremy felt like? Another pixel knocked the Squip from its train of thought.
“Please, Squip stop!” Was that Jeremy’s voice or their own? The Squip couldn’t tell. Everything seemed jumbled together. Kicking off the floor, the Squip launched itself at the door’s handle, quickly getting out and slamming it shut.
Prompt: YOU SHOULD WRITE ABOUT RAMEN NOODLES, KAY THANKS BYE
((sorry for not having this up sooner. it accidentally posted privately.))
Word Count: 1717 - Characters: Jeremy Heere, Michael Mell, Christine Canigula, The Squip - Ships: Meremy Hell
Notes: Squip lives and is weak but Michael and Jeremy are dating and Christine is a bean.
The sound of a bell was what initially raised the two teenager’s heads at the same time. The only problem with raising your heads at the same time is that they can impact. Hard.
“And this is why this place will be perfect for you two!” A chipper voice came from the side of them, Christine Canigula.
Jeremy laughed. “If you say so, Chris.” He scoffed. Usually, his go-to date restaurant was the 7-11 down the street with the great sushi and slushies. Unfortunately, Christine was not happy to find out that he and Michael hadn’t been getting the “ultimate dating experience.” Sure, she was aroace, but eventually, Michael and Jeremy gave in.
It lead them on a trip to New York, spending the morning walking around Times Square (and fanboying like crazy over the new Nintendo Switch as well as binge-eating red M&M’s at the official store.) However, now they were in Brooklyn upon Christine’s suggestion to catch an Uber and drive down. Christine had whispered in the driver’s ears the place to put into the GPS, and soon the two boyf riends were off, not having the slightest clue where they were headed.
Turns out, they were here: Ichiran NYC. It was a Japanese chain that had recently moved to NYC and sold “the best ramen ever in actual human existence,” according to Chris.
Michael took off his headphones for a minute, hanging them on his neck. “So what exactly is so special about this place?” He asked, looking around. “I can make twelve packages for three bucks at home.” Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. The two teenage boys had enough ramen to last them throughout the rest of their junior and senior year at high school. Christine joined in the laughter.
“Trust me, you’ll like this place. Now c'mon. That was the bell for us.” The theater nerd walked the two boys down a pathway, to a row of enclosed spaces. It looked like the SATs in the cafeteria at Middleborough. Michael walked sideways, poking his head in and out of the tiny stalls. Jeremy chuckled and elbowed him in the side. The boy in the red sweatshirt whined and flicked Jeremy back. Jeremy was about to tug on Michael’s hair when Christine turned around and shushed them. “God, I can’t take you two anywhere,” she scolded, before turning back around to follow the hostess.
“Enjoy!” The woman said, giving a bow. Christine and Michael bowed back, saying thank you. Jeremy stood there like the awkward, uncultured swine he is. Christine sat down first, purposefully putting herself between the two boyf riends.
“This is the fun part. Nobody talks to you! You even write down your order on this little form.”
Michael held up his hand, leaning back farther so he could see both Christine and his partner. “Wait, but-”
“Buh!
“Wha?”
“No.”
“A-”
“Stop.” Christine snickered. “Now you guys have a chance not to be all lovey-dovey and awkward. Enjoy!” And with that, she stuck her head back into her seat. Jeremy could faintly hear the writing on the paper. He looked up to find that Michael was staring. The boy blushed before placing his head back into the tiny stall. Jeremy found himself alone with his thoughts.
This place definitely wasn’t claustrophobic-friendly. The boy looked down at the menu in front of him. Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, awkwardly fidgeting with the other. The silence was bugging him.
“I can always fix that.”
Jeremy leaped back, nearly falling off the chair at the voice in his head. “You again?” He hissed under his breath. “I just took a shot of Red, you should be offline.”
The Squip laughed. “Yeah, but you also went to the bathroom like four times after that thanks to the street pretzel. The mountain dew is out of your system already.”
The teenager grumbled before leaning back. He was about to ask Michael for a shot of Red Mountain Dew (they kept it in tiny apple juice boxes just in case) when a more feminine face shot in front of him.
“Shhh!” Christine had a finger to her lip-gloss covered lip. She really actually did go a bit overboard at the Forever 21. Jeremy tried to protest, but Christine grabbed his head, turned it back around and nudged him forward with two taps on his back. The lanky teenager found himself alone again.
“Nice try, Jere.”
“Shut up, you stupid computer.”
“Actually, I have more information on my hardware than the internet altogether, so I doubt you should be calling a supercomputer stupid.”
Jeremy scoffed before looking up to the left of his small corner of the restaurant. A button lay there, indicating that it was for placing your order form. The teenager pressed it, submitted his order and laid back. He waited. Jeremy wished he could talk to Michael. He’d speak to him about what new games were out, which was the better console, and how much he was thankful for him and how much he loved him and how much he loved his hair and his hands…
“Getting off topic there, Heere.” The Squip snarked in his brain.
“I wasn’t thinking about… about that.”
The Squip snickered. “You can’t lie to me, Jeremy. I’m inside your brain. Haven’t we gone over this?”
Jeremy blushed. Okay, so maybe he was. “What does it matter? He’s my boyfriend. I can think of him however I want. Freedom of Speech.”
A mini-Squip materialized on the table in front of him, albeit a bit glitched out and missing some important pieces. You know… like legs. “Yeah, but you’re also in a restaurant. So stop that.”
A tickle went down Jeremy’s spine. It was the Squip’s new way of shocking him. Except they were pretty much powerless thanks to the steady Red Mountain Dew diet and newfound self-confidence (from the great Michael Mell).
“Also, you’re talking through your thoughts. Freedom of Speech doesn’t apply here, Heere.” Squip laughed at their own joke. “Oops. Move your hands.” The Squip poofed from in front of him.
“What?” Jeremy started to move his hands when the shutter in front of him opened.
The person behind the counter placed a bowl of ramen in front of him with his selected garlic, scallion, and sliced pork choices. “Tanoshimu!” The male voice called from behind, before placing a pair of chopsticks and a fork at his side and closing the shutter.
Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the pork flavored ramen he got at home, but damn did it smell delicious! Jeremy picked up the fork (even the Squip couldn’t help him with chopsticks) and began to dig in.
“If there’s one thing you humans do well, it’s make food. Judging by the amount of dopamine in your brain, it tastes fantastic. It’s almost like you were kissing Michael.”
Jeremy sputtered, almost choking on the noodle he slurping. “I’m eating here!” He thought angrily. Jeremy could hear the Keanu Reeves doppelganger laughing in his head.
“You look as red as the lanterns in the lobby,” The Squip quipped. Jeremy groaned as he took another bite of pork. Why did it always do this?
“Embarrass you? It’s a form of revenge.”
“I wasn’t asking you.” He grumbled out loud. A quiet giggle dragged him out of the conversation with his computer. Jeremy leaned back once more to see Christine laughing. “What?!” He asked, annoyed.
Christine covered her mouth, giggling. “A-Are you talking to yourself cause you’re so lonely?”
Jeremy put a hand over his chest, acting as though he was offended. “How dare you! Talking to myself? Whatever could make me do that?” He held a confused face before letting his face fall. Christine got the hint.
“Yikes. You don’t think this place has Red Mountain Dew here, do you?” Jeremy gave her a look. “Okay, okay. Fair enough.” She shrugged before turning around. A murmur of talking ensued, ending with a mouthful of “what?!”
The squeak of the stool they had been sitting on could be heard as Michael made his way over. “Yo dude, are you okay? What’s it saying? Do I have to punch it again?” The poor teenager was so worried he was looking in the wrong pouch for the Red Mountain Dew apple juice boxes.
Jeremy laughed, guiding his boyfriend’s hands to the right zipper. “I’m fine, dude. It’s just being a nuisance.” And also teasing me about liking you.
“He doesn’t need to tease you about that. You show it anyway.”
Shit! Was that out loud?
“Jeremy, you’re still doing it.”
“Oh.”
The moment dragged on for a minute, just the two staring at each other before…
“Here.” Michael handed Jeremy a juice box. He nodded, drinking some.
“Jeremy, please reconsider this. You kno- oh! It hurt zzz when yo-oo! Ow! Jereeeeemeeeey.” The computer slowed to a stop leaving a distinct lack buzzing in Jeremy’s head.
“Thanks, Michael.” Jeremy gave him a hug. It was awkward though, as he was sitting down and Michael standing in front of him. Michael let out a laugh, gently shoving him away.
“We’re supposed to have no contact, remember?” Jeremy made a pouty face. Michael rolled his eyes. “How could I say no to that?” He cupped his hand on Jeremy’s face, pulling him up for a quick, sweet kiss. Jeremy smiled.
“Hey, you two!” A sharp, quiet voice came from their side. Both boys turned at the same time. The only problem with turning your heads at the same time is that they can impact. Hard. Christine sighed. “Even when you’re separated, you’re still adorably awkward nerds.”
