#(sorry I really am. this whole getting sick thing threw a wrench into literally all the plans I had for this month.)

[alicevandrusen]

Inktober Day 18: The Hanged Man

Upright: sacrifice, waiting, uncertainty, lack of direction, perspective, contemplation

Reversed: stalling, disinterest, stagnation, avoiding sacrifice, standstill, apathy

A noose not always be something to hang from the rafters, but anything that would hold someone still where they stood. The figures stands at the bottom of the ocean of their own doing, as sacrifice was needed for progress needed. As the world goes on without them and their story lives on, perhaps they can find peace in forgiving themselves for taking a responsibility and mistake that they shouldn’t have had to make.

The story is even sadder than the description in Ingrained. And the world still survives after them, that broke my heart.

Ten year olds shouldn’t be asked to save the world, that’s how you get Team Rainbow Rocket. Super fucked this story could actually be real in some alternate timeline.

[thevoidscreams]

I don't care which slashers/killers you do for this BUT...... May I have some killers hcs meeting their male s/o for the first time? 🥺👉👈

also I know I need to get through what little writings I have planned done and out so I can do these in return and maybe do somethin for ya

I really tried here, I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted. I love these two and I wanted to write more for them. Please let me know if you'd like me to change them at all or if they seem wrong.

Ghostface:

Danny Johnson did not have a tolerant upbringing. His family, despite lacking any sort of faith, was a family built on the foundation that men only slept with women. That's just how it was and that that was how nature had kept things going. When Danny realized he didn't just get hard when looking at naked girls however, life became a lot harder. Literally.

Collage was the escape he needed. He took off and never looked back. Ghosting his family before it was a regular thing. He could finally be who he really was.

The first time he saw you was at a party and he knew something was different. Just introducing himself felt like a life or death situation, he couldn't fuck this up. Some deep part of him needed you to like him, needed you to want him. Danny man not have called it love at first sight but it was definitely something. When you left you took his number and promised to hang out later. You had similar schedules so it would be easy. Right?

You threw a wrench into every plan he'd set in place. All his aspiring affairs with other people died the moment you gave him your name. Your perfect name.

Danny begins every morning thinking about you and would lay down at night with you on his mind till he faded into sleep. Everyday for months you plague his thoughts. Your chill sessions are basically dates in his mind. Even if it's just bumming it on the dorm couches with Mariocart and eating cheap greasy pizza. He cherishes every moment. It has to be more, he thinks, your too nice, too friendly and some of your remarks could be taken as flirting. You're not like this with your other friends. Just with him.

He plans to ask you out but for the first time in his life he's scared by the idea of getting a no. The thought of being rejected by you makes him feel legitimately sick to his stomach. What if he's misread all your signals and your disgusted by his advances. What if you call him all the awful things his old high-school friends did when he came out to them. He needs you to know how he feels, keeping it all in is making him feel anxious.

He was mulling it over in his mind when he got a call, answering it to hear your voice caused a sudden feeling of euphoria within him. "Hey, can we meet up?" Your voice was shaky and you sounded unsure. But Danny agreed right away, assuring you he had the time and was happy to meet up.

You two got coffee together all the time but today there was something more to it. The way you laughed and bumped his shoulder with your fist, the way you smiled awkwardly like you were trying to keep something from him. Danny was getting worried as he looked down at you. "Is everything alright shortstake? You seem off today."

You took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. "DannyIlikeyou" you blurted out cheeks red and eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry I just I couldn't do it anymore," you looked away, "keeping it all in made me feel so awful and I just needed you to know. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and if you don't want to see me again I'll understand that too but-"

He kissed you, right there in front of all of the coffee shop patrons and employees. To his amazement a few people wooped and clapped.

Danny pulled away, he took his coffee in one hand and then your hand in his other.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

He led you to a little pond, there were ducks and water lilies. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect place to have a heart to heart.

The talk that followed was long and he explained at great lengths how he felt about you.

You confirmed some of the things he suspected, embarrassed by how easily he read you. At the end of it all you were both a bit teary eyed.

"So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I love you." You did cry after hearing that, so happy and relieved he felt the same way. You kissed him, and he responded in kind, with only the ducks as witnesses this time. They didn't make a peep about the kiss....but they did quack.

Thomas Hewitt:

Tommy knew something was different the first time he met you. You were just a new hire at the meat plant but he couldn't take his eyes off you. The poor thing didn't know what to do. So he just watched. Intrigued by the feelings he felt when he did.

"Good morning Thomas." You'd nod as you passed him to get to your work station. He'd grunt in reply and nod. Happy to see you.

"Hey Tom, lunch time! Thank God for lunch breaks am I right?" Your hand was firm as you passed him, clapping his shoulder. He liked when you touched him, no one ever touched him unless he was also being yelled at. But your touch was different and it was good.

"See ya tomorrow Tommy." You groaned tiredly after a long shift, promising to see him tomorrow. He hoped to see you everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a system, a pattern, it was something Tommy relied on, like a clock, you were on time and followed the routine.

Except this morning, you weren't here. The supervisor was passing by to inspect the work station.

"Where the hell is that freaky bastard at?" He asked pointing to your station. Tommy shrugged, he didn't know, probably the bathroom. "Yeah well you might want to keep your distance, I heard from some the other guys that he's one of them men lovers. If it were up to me he'dhave never come here, but the boss says we're 'short staffed'." The snicker that bubbled up from him was disgusting and he mouthed off a few insults and slurs before walking off to finished his rounds.

Tommy was angry, more than usual at least. He wanted to take that supervisor's head and crush it under his mallet. Instead he stripped his apron off and went to the bathroom. Still a tiny part of him was happy, glad to know he wasn't alone.

The bathroom was never locked, it couldn't be, the lock was broken and building management was too cheap to replace it. So Tommy pushed through the door and listened. A soft rhythmic sound greeted him. Soft uneven breathing, muffled by the walls of the stall. He knew that sound, it was all too personal to him.

He stepped in front of the stall and their sounds turned panicked like they knew they'd been caught.

He knocked on the wood so gently and as it swung open he confirmed his suspensions. Your eyes were red and swollen, a large bruise on your cheek. Tommy saw red as he looked over your generally disheveled appearance.

You were trying to hide the fact that you'd been crying.

"Hey Tommy, what's happening brother? The uh... supervisor send you in here to find me or something?" When you tried to push past him to get to the sinks Thomas stopped you with one big arm.

"Uh you good?" Your voiced trembled and it torn Tommy apart to hear the man he loved so distressed. His big arms pulled you in, holding your smaller body against his massive one. He just didn't care anymore, he didn't care if you knew, or if the whole world knew. People already called him a freak for the way he looked. They were wrong, Thomas wasn't a freak, not for the way he looked or for the way he felt. Neither were you for that matter. When you hugged him back his heart soared. "Thank you." You cried softly, face buried in his chest.

The gentle giant wiped a tear away, carefully as not to agitated the bruise. He grunted and ran his thumb around the edge of the darkening spot.

"Don't worry about that, some of the guys found out about my...well I'm sure you know or have at least heard." Thomas nodded, still holding you. "We should probably get back to our stations."

Tommy was hesitant but he let you go to wash your face and fix your appearance. Things were going to be hard for the both of you. But hard was nothing new to him he was used to fighting for equal footing with others, fighting to get what he wanted always fighting. But this time it really was something worth fighting for. This time it was you.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Want Me

This is, a lot more than anything I've ever written, but I hope you like it.

Master List

~~

When Chan had told Stays he had a gift for them today, you had anticipated something like the valentines date. Maybe even Hyunjin’s surprise appearance. What you definitely weren’t expecting was your boyfriend to basically strip in front of literally the whole world.

“Oh. My god.” Your reaction was subconscious, and totally not something you wanted your roommate, Sungmi, to hear. Your eyes were the size of saucers as you stared at your phone.

“What’s up?” Her interest was piqued the second you made a sound, and being you, you did the one thing you could think of.

You threw your phone as far from yourself as possible.

The two of you watch it sail across the living room and land safely in the dirty clothes hamper neither of you had moved from the hallway to the washer.

“Uh, you good?”

“Wow, look at that laundry!” You exclaim, “Someone should go do it.” You can’t even jump up from the couch when her hand is wrapping around your ankle, pulling you onto the floor.

“Was it Chan’s performance?” Your face immediately goes crimson. “No,” You lie, poorly. “What performance? I didn’t even know he was performing. I should go do the laundry.” You’re talking like you’re the flash, and while she’s attempting to figure out what you said, you attempt to wrench your leg from her grip. Unfortunately her brain power is faster that you can get your arms under you, though you do manage to yank her off the couch with you.

“Get back here!” She huffs, yanking you closer to her and somehow managing to sit on your pelvis. “You saw the Wolfgang performance didn’t you?” She demands, but your answer is more struggling to knock her over. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/n.” She drops forward, pinning your arms by your head, and if she were literally anyone else, you would probably think this was super hot.

“Curse your shockingly strong legs.”

“Nine years of waterpolo.” She explains.

“Really? Damn, I should start playing.”

“You’re stalling.”

“No I’m not.” You lie, again. She rolls her eyes, dropping her head a little more to knock her forehead against yours. “Ow.”

“Be honest with me.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not.” She bonks your head again, “Stop lying.”

“Will you get off me?”

“When we’re done talking.”

“Then yes, I saw Chan’s Wolfgang performance.” She nods, letting go of your hands to sit up properly and crush your pelvis a little more.

“I thought it was pretty hot.” She confesses and you feel something bubble in your chest. You can’t help the slight twitch in your brows and of course she notices. “Ah! Jealousy!”

“I’m not jealous.” She taps your forehead, aggressively enough to hurt a little. “Ow.”

“You can’t lie to a Psychology major.”

“I’m not-” She raises her finger again and you relent. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not a huge fan of someone telling me they think my boyfriend is hot to my face.”

“Did you think it was hot?” Your face grows warm and you have to bite back an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not answering that.”

“You don’t have to. You’d be stupid to think otherwise.”

“Especially when he was in the white shirt.” You admit, and she nods.

“You should see if he’ll wear something like that next time you two decide to get all hot and heavy.” Your face flushes again, not really wanting to discuss your sexlife with someone you’ve only actually known for about seven months.

“Um yeah, totally.”

“Oh my god. You guys don’t do stuff!”

“We do stuff!” You defend, immediately regretting it.

“Oh really? Ever used handcuffs?” On him, or me?

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“So that's a no. How about, have you ever sent him a nude?” Oh, if only you knew.

“Get off me.”

“Another no.” She grins, “I’m shocked, he seems like such a feisty boy, you’d think he’d do stuff.” “Seriously, get off.” There’s no humor in your voice now. It wasn’t her place to tell you about your own boyfriend, and you were getting sick of her forcing her way into your love life.

“Oh come on Y/n.” She doesn’t get another word out before you grab her leg and wrench her sideways. Instead of just tossing her onto the floor, you find yourself slamming your hand into the floor by her head, now leaning over her.

“Stay out of my love life, do you hear me?” You practically growl, “I don’t need your help to please my boyfriend.” Her eyes go wide at your words, and you instantly become aware of your positions when a smirk paints itself on her face.

“My, my Y/n. I didn’t peg you as someone who’d be on top.”

“Clearly.” You reply. “Now are you quite done?”

“Have you ever topped him? He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t like that.”

“Once again, I don’t have to answer that.”

“You should try it. Something tells me you’ll like it.”

“Shut up.”

~~

“I hate you.” It had been hours since your rather sexually charged conversation with her, and here you were standing at her doorway seeking advice. You hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had said, but in all honesty, Chan was your first, so you had no clue what you were doing most of the time.

“Oh? Is that why you’re looking all lost and confused at my door?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she looks at you in the mirror. “What up?”

“I need advice.”

“Wear black, it looks good on everyone.” Her gaze shifts back to her reflection, where she’s curling her hair for a date.

“About Chan.” Her attention turns back to you in an instant and you’re tempted to run back to your room.

“In what sense?”

“What you said earlier.” A wicked grin spreads on her face. “Have a seat darling.” You trudge over to her bed, sitting on the trunk at the end to watch her. “First off, tell me this, who initiates sex usually?”

“He does.” You admit quietly. “Babe, if you want my help, you gotta be able to talk about sex without turning into a tomato. I mean, how are you sexually active and still blushing like a virgin. Next you're going to tell me you only do it missionary with the lights off.”

“Well…” Her mouth drops open in horror.

“Oh my god.” She gasps. “No wonder you’re all annoyed these days. You’re not satisfied.”

“Hey, he gets me off,” You defend, “And he’s very good at it.” You practically swoon just thinking about it. She raises her hands in surrender, but smiles at your answer.

“Have you ever asked him for oral?”

“How the hell do I bring that up in casual conversation? Just “Hey babe, you did wonderful today, do you want to eat me out’.”

“Well if it works.”

“No.”

“Okay, have you ever worn lingerie for him?”

“No, but I did buy something to wear a few months ago.” She nods, approving.

“How come you’ve never worn it?”

“Between Kingdom and the fact that he lives with seven other men, there hasn’t exactly been a time and place.”

“That’s fair. When do you guys usually do it? What’s it like? Just broad details.”

“He tells me he wants to spend the night. I usually get a hotel room, since my parents are still sending me money for rent, and we arrive at separate times. Its usually really sweet and slow.”

“And after?” She prompts.

“We shower, and cuddle. He usually leaves first cause he has practice or something.”

“Ever done it in the shower?” You shake your head, shoulders slumping as you realize how lame everything sounds.

“I really like him, but I think, especially since you said he seems like a kinky type, what if he’s not as into me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” She turns her chair towards you, setting a hand on your knee. “I think you’re both too nervous to broach the subject. I know this is your first real relationship, and it might be his too.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Start simple.” She turns back to her mirror, “You should book a room, and jazz it up a little. Rose petals, candles, maybe that set you bought. That way its obvious you want him.”

“That's not a bad idea.”

“Even better! I will go halfsies on one of the fancy hotels with you. I know one that has these huge bathtubs so you can take one together, and the shower has a stone floor, so its not slippery. Oh! We can get you a pretty silk robe, so you can do the dramatic reveal.”

“This sounds like a lot. How about for now, I just do the candles and the set?” She laughs, clearly embarrassed by the way she fiddles with her necklace.

“Sounds like a plan. You can do the big one for your anniversary.” You nod, agreeing with her.

“I can do it tonight, he’ll probably want some stress relief after that performance.” You offer her a sly smile, jumping up to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” She calls after you.

“I gotta go buy some candles.”

~~

Hey lover, come meet me. *Y/n shared her location*

You glanced over at the message again as you adjusted the black lace garterbelt. Sungmi had been right, black did look amazing on everyone. He had read the message, and if you were lucky, he was too busy driving over to text you back. You slid the black skirt up your legs, loving the way it stopped just under the edge of the thigh highs. The last piece was a simple t shirt, it was a little ripped and hung off one shoulder, just giving a slight peekaboo of the bra you had spent way too much money on. If Chan didn’t combust from seeing you in this, you were going to have a fun night.

Carefully you moved your things out of the main room, tucking them in the closet for safe keeping, and began lighting the candles. The sweet aroma of vanilla and lavender wafted through the room as you shut the lights off. You settled on the edge of the bed, taking a few risque selfies to show Sungmi and maybe send Chan later.

And then you waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Babe?

Three hours, that's how long you’d been waiting before you finally texted him again, having run out of excuses for the man.

“Sorry babe, I was working. Do you still want me to come to you?”

Not really, after this long, the wonder had worn off, and you just felt stupid and hurt. Of course he wasn’t going to come if you asked.

No. Its fine.

Actually, I want to talk to you. Are you still at the studio?

You set your phone down, turn the lights back on and begin blowing out candles. You don’t bother changing, just grab your sneakers and your bag before heading out, tucking your key and phone in your bra as you leave the building.

With some take out in hand you make your way to the JYP building, not at all surprised to see several lights still on.

“Woah, hel-lo Y/n.” You instantly smile at Jae’s greeting, which is followed by Brian’s whistle. “You look like a full course meal, girl.”

“Hey boys, what had you here so late, its past midnight?”

“Oh we were just-” Jae glances over at Brian who clears his throat.

“Just working. What about you?”

“Chan’s still working, so I brought some food.” You shrug, heading towards the elevators, “Have a good night.

“You too.” You have to bite your lip so you don’t laugh at Brian smacking Jae’s shoulder, earning a whine from the taller boy.

The lights from the studios are all off when you arrive, but you can see the glow of the computer shining from Chan’s. You knock as you open the door, making him jump and yank his headphones off when the light from the hall hits him. His face lights up in a smile when he sees you. Of course, he’s wearing super tight jeans and a black button up, neither of which were not helping you relax.

“Oh hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming.” He stands to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I texted you.” You tell him, which has him looking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear it when I’m working.” You smile reassuringly at him.

“That's okay, I know, that’s why I just came over.” You hold up the bag of take out, “I also brought food since you forget to eat when you start working.”

“You are the light of my life.” He sighs, kissing you properly this time as he takes the bag. Your heart flutters from his words, some of the butterflies in your stomach coming back from the dead. You sit across from him, stealing his work chair as he spreads the food out on the table and digs in. It takes him a few minutes to notice that you’re just staring, and he finally stops eating to say something, “You okay? How come you aren’t eating?”

“I already ate.” You lie, but he sees right through it, setting his chopsticks down to look at you properly. You watch his eyes rake across your body, finally seeing the lace stockings and the matching bra.

“That’s not it. You’re disappointed.” He realizes, “You looked the same way when you saw I.Ns grades.” He explains before you can even open your mouth to answer. “I know its not our anniversary, and your birthday already passed.”

“Its nothing babe. I just had a stupid idea for tonight.” The words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them. He looks at your outfit again and a cheeky smile begins to grow on his face.

“Were you-? But you never-” He lets out a deep breath, followed by a small giggle, which doesn’t make you feel better.

“I should head home.” You spring up, heading towards the door. “Enjoy your dinner.” He catches your arm before you get too far, pulling you back to wrap his arms around you.

“What did you have planned, baby girl?” Your heart flutters at the pet name, and the low tone his voice had taken on. “You wouldn’t have gotten all dressed up like this for nothing.” HIs free hand trails down your side, coming to the edge of your skirt, where his fingers find the skin just above the top of your stockings.

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure you want me as much as I want you.” You confess.

“Baby girl.” His voice is soft now, “Of course I want you.” His lips brush the skin of your neck as he speaks, sending shivers across your whole body.

“Then how come we never do anything interesting?”

“Like what?” Your confidence grows as you turn to face him, looping a finger through the choker he wears.

“Maybe I don’t want to do the same thing every time we fuck.” You can see from the way his eyebrows hike up that he’s startled by your words, hell, you were startled by them. “Maybe I want to see you.” Your other hand moves up to his face, trailing your thumb over his lips. “Maybe I don’t always want to be in a bed, in the dark, on my back. Maybe I want to be in charge.”

“I don’t think you could handle that baby girl.” He bites at your thumb as he finishes his sentence.

“Try me, Chris.” You challenge. His hands come up to your cheeks, pulling you in for a searing kiss. For a few seconds, your brain forgets what you had just challenged. He doesn’t help as he pulls away from your lips, his trailing across your cheek and down your neck.

“Sit.” You order, pulling away, trying to keep your breathing steady and not let on how affected you were.

“Excuse me?”

“Sit. Down.” You order again, shoving him lightly towards his computer chair. He backs up slowly, collapsing into it, eyes never leaving you.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you turn away from him.

“Proving a point.” You declare, the click of his lock emphasizing your words.

“Oh?” You turn back to him, finding him relaxed as ever, watching you with his legs spread wide. You saunter towards him, standing between his legs, hands on the arm rests. “You really think you can handle this baby?”

“If I impress you, you’ll save your work and we head over to the hotel.”

“And if you don’t?”

“You save your work and we head over to the hotel anyway.”

“Bet.”

“You might regret that, baby.” You push on the chair, sending it back until it connects with his desk.

“Oh really?” He asks, as you push his knees together slightly so you can straddle his lap. Your fingers trail from his shoulders down to the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one at a time.

“You talk too much.” You tell him, leaning forward to press kisses along his neck. Just as you hit his pulse point, he hisses, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “Ah ah ah.” You chastise, pulling away from his neck. “No touching.” You pull his hands away, dropping them on the arm rests instead. “Hands to yourself.”

“Oh you are in for it when we get to the hotel.” He groans as you nip at his skin.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

[delacyrose224]

Champagne Problems

-Pairing: bassist!Yoongi x OC

-Premise: Yoongi keeps to himself, but everything changes when he opens up to his best friend about his past.

-Genre: rock band!AU, angst with some fluff

-Word count: 2.8k

-Author's Note: This is a continuation of the Gold Rush universe! Each band member will get his own story based off a song on Taylor Swift's evermore album. This story revealed just how much of a soft spot I have for Yoongi...

“Are you sure you can’t come with?” Jungkook shoots Yoongi a sad look with his doe eyes.

“Yes, now shut up and go. Stop trying to guilt trip me with puppy dog eyes, suck it up and go be awkward with that girl you met. I can tell you think she’s cute, so go be gross and flirty somewhere else far from me, please,” Yoongi huffs as he loads equipment into the band’s van.

“Yeah, JK, leave him alone...he’s going to hang out with Olivia.” Jin emphasizes the last word with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Olivia’s more important than us anyway...even though we’ve known him longer. It’s fine, we’ll be fine.” He throws his hand against his forehead as if he’ll faint for emphasis.

Yoongi cuts a harsh side eye at Jin. “Yes, I am going to hang out with Olivia. I’ve had plans with her for a week now. You knew this. It’s not my fault if you forgot.”

Jin falters at this, his face softening into care for his oldest friend. “Yeah, I know. We’ll see you when you get home, okay?” Yoongi nods in affirmation.

“I’m taking the train there, make sure the equipment gets unloaded tonight. I don’t care what goo-goo eyes those two girls make at you, it needs to go in the spare room in our apartment.” Yoongi tosses the van keys at Jungkook, who catches them with ease.

“Aye, aye, captain!” Jungkook exclaims with a grin, opening the driver’s side door as Jin climbs into the passenger side.

Yoongi gives a small wave at his two friends as he turns to walk to the subway station nearest The Dynasty, the bar they had just played at. He didn’t mind that he was by himself, it would give him the time he needed to decompress after the show. He appreciated the attention that the band and their music got (after all, he had a hand in writing most of the songs), but he absolutely hated the attention of the crowd on himself. Jin and Jungkook ate it up-they were literally about to go meet two strangers from the show to eat and hang out. That could never be him. Yoongi stuck with the familiar. The familiar was safe. And Olivia was familiar.

He smiled softly to himself at the thought of Olivia...he had known her since college, where they had met when they were both dragged to a party they didn’t want to be at. They had bonded over their shared distaste for large gatherings of loud, drunk people, but their love for their friends that reveled in it.

Reminiscing had taken Yoongi all the way down to the subway platform, where he met the red line just as it was pulling in...a bit of good luck for once, he thought. He climbed on and found a seat off to the side where no one else was, and collapsed into it. He must be more tired than he thought.

As the train pulled out of the station, he found himself looking out the window. The red line was a train that went above ground, so he was able to stare at more than just gray tunnels. As skyscrapers and streetlights came into view, his mind started to wander. Last March. A night similar to this one, exactly a year ago. He had just finished playing Gold Rush’s first show, when his whole life fell apart. Promises of a future, shattered alongside his heart. He can feel his eyes starting to prick with tears, which he hates. Yoongi looks around, simultaneously grateful that no one else is around to see that he’s upset, but at the same time, if there were more people around, maybe he never would have gotten lost in his memories in the first place.

Before he can start internally chastising himself too much, the train pulls into his stop. He uses his black t-shirt to wipe at his eyes in what he hopes is a nonchalant way, then leaves the train car and heads up a set of stairs back into the city.

He doesn’t have to walk far before he’s at Olivia’s apartment, knocking on her door. She flings the door open wide, a smile on her face and a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Yoongi!! You came! Come on in.”

Yoongi follows her into her apartment and plops himself down on her couch and closes his eyes momentarily, feeling some of his stress dissipate. “Happy Anniversary!!” Olivia exclaims. At this, he jolts up, eyes flying open. He can feel how wild he must look with the way Olivia stares at him. But how does she know about the anniversary? She doesn’t know anything about that, right?

“...w-what do you mean?” he manages to stammer out, trying to gain some of his composure.

“The anniversary of Gold Rush’s first show?...you’ve been officially playing together for a year now! I remember the first show like it was yesterday, you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up. And then Jungkook actually threw up after the show because he drank too much...anyway, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come out tonight, I had a work thing I couldn’t miss.” Olivia looks truly disappointed, like she would have rather been sweating in a gross bar at the show.

Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief. Of course, the anniversary of their first show. Why would it be anything else? “It’s okay, really,” he replies. “It worked out anyway, Jin and Jungkook met these two girls who came to the show, and they’re hanging out with them. Makes me feel less guilty when I’d rather be hanging out with you anyway.” He lets a small smile grace his features as he glances across the room at Olivia, but it disappears as his eyes fall on the champagne bottle that she’s placed on the living room table.

First world problems. Champagne problems, she’d called them. Not Olivia. Her. Yoongi can feel his eyes starting to swim with tears again, so quickly he doesn’t have time to hide the few that spill down his cheeks.

“...Yoongs? What’s wrong?” Olivia moves to sit beside him on the couch.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself again. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yoongs, the last time I saw you cry, it was in college when you found out that your aunt had passed away. So I’m gonna ask again...what’s wrong?” she reaches out and gently wipes his tears away with her thumb.

“Livvy…” he starts, unsure of exactly what to say.

“Just start at the beginning,” Olivia reassures him.

He sighs shakily. “Okay. Do you remember when I started dating Isabelle senior year?”

Olivia nods.

“Well, that’s the beginning.”

----------------------------------------------

“...and everything was fine for a long time. Those first two years were everything. She was everything. Jin and Jungkook used to get so mad at me because I would bail out of band practice early all the time to go see her.” Yoongi hiccups as he continues talking. He’s stopped crying for the time being, but as he’d been telling the story, Olivia had opened the bottle of champagne and they had both been drinking straight from the bottle. Yoongi was a little tipsy, if he was being honest with himself...otherwise, he didn’t think he’d be able to get the entire story out of his mouth.

“Okay...so, everything was good. What happened?” Olivia looks over sideways at her best friend. They’d both thrown their heads back to look at the ceiling rather than look at each other to talk-Olivia knew Yoongi would never be able to fully share with them making eye contact. He looks over briefly, then back to the ceiling, brows furrowed.

“Well. I’m not sure exactly when things started to fall apart...I guess Isabelle started acting weird once she met my family. Jin and Jungkook didn’t care for her that much either, I never understood why. I know now they were just looking out for me. But in the moment, all I saw was her. She loved me, and I loved her. I wanted to marry her,” he breathes out softly, closing his eyes.

Olivia’s eyes widen. She and Yoongi had been friends when he dated Isabelle, but they hadn’t kept in close contact during that time. They were each trying to find their footing in the real world, moving into apartments, starting first jobs. Him entertaining the idea of marriage to anyone was news to her. She knew he was serious about his relationship to Isabelle, but not that serious.

Yoongi is still sitting with his eyes closed, face towards the ceiling. Try as he might, he can’t stop tears from falling for the third time that night. He hates how vulnerable he’s being, but maybe he can blame it on the champagne. Instead of wiping them away, Olivia watches the tears fall onto his t-shirt. Her heart feels like it’s being wrenched apart. Why did Yoongi never share any of this with her before? She should have been there for him. Did Jin and Jungkook know about all of this? Surely he’s told someone else. Slowly, she reaches out her hand and places it on top of Yoongi’s, squeezing gently.

At the sensation, he opens his eyes and looks over at Olivia. She always knows what to do or say. Or not say. He twists his palm upward to meet hers and intertwines their fingers together. It feels nice. He’s forgotten how pleasant human touch can be since he’s shut himself off from other people.

Olivia’s cheeks are dusted with pink, but she doesn’t pull her hand back. “Okay, so, you wanted to marry her. What stopped you?” She traces small circles with her thumb onto the back of Yoongi’s hand.

He leans forward and grabs the champagne bottle with his free hand, chugging quite a bit before he answers. “...she did.” he whispers, hardly loud enough to hear. “Last March, at our first show. You remember she came?” Olivia nods. She remembers, it had been one of the few times the two women had been in the same room.

“We went back to her apartment after the afterparty, once we all made sure Kook was fine after he got sick. I was planning on proposing in a much more planned out way, but I just remember looking at her once we got back to her place, and she was so beautiful. Even though she was sweaty from the show, even though we were both exhausted. I couldn’t help myself...I didn’t even have the ring with me, it was sitting at my apartment in my sock drawer. I just loved her so much.”

There’s a long pause. Olivia squeezes Yoongi’s hand again for reassurance. He continues to blankly stare at the ceiling at a loss for what to say next.

“Yoongs...c’mere.” He looks over at Olivia questioningly. She lets go of his hand and before he can protest the loss of contact, she gently places her hands on his shoulders, turning him and slowly lowering his head into her lap. He’s still staring at the ceiling, but also able to see Olivia. She begins to softly run her hands through his hair, tracing patterns onto his scalp every so often. Yoongi sighs contentedly and closes his eyes again.

“...I got down on one knee in her living room, and she stopped me. Before I could say one word. She just said, ‘Yoongi, I can’t.’ And that was it. She didn’t cry. She said she couldn’t do this, whatever this was. She said I deserved better than her. And then she asked me to leave. We never talked again.”

Suddenly he opens his eyes again. “I became a zombie after that...the only time I socialized with anyone was to go play shows, if that even counts. I was so rude for no reason to Kook and Jin, when they were just trying to help. I never even told them what happened. They didn’t know I proposed, they just thought we broke up.” Yoongi’s speech starts to speed up as the trainwreck he’s lived through for the past year plays in his head.

“I used to care so much...I closed myself off. I don’t think I feel emotions properly anymore. I can’t love anyone anymore. I haven’t told anyone about any of this until now, and it took a bottle of champagne to even do that, and you’re one of my best friends.” Yoongi sits up suddenly, motioning frantically at Olivia with his hands. He looks at her, holding eye contact for more than 10 seconds for the first time that night.

“...I think Isabelle broke me,” he breathes. Seeing the care emanating from Olivia’s gaze is what truly breaks him. He’s suddenly sobbing uncontrollably, shoulders heaving with the emotion that he’s held in for so long. Olivia pulls him into her embrace, where she simply holds him while he cries.

What he doesn’t see are the tears streaming down her face as well. She can’t believe that he’s held all of this in for this long, without telling anyone. That he felt like he couldn’t share this part of himself. She just wishes that he could understand how much she cares. How much she loves him. He deserves the world, not to feel this way.

After a few minutes, Yoongi leans back, wiping his eyes and trying to collect himself. It’s then that he notices the wet streaks running down Olivia’s cheeks.

“Livvy, what’s wrong?” he reaches up to gently wipe her cheeks with his thumbs. She inadvertently leans into the touch, sniffling softly. “Livvy...look at me.”

As she lifts her gaze to meet his, Yoongi is struck by how Olivia’s eyes seem to be glittering because of tears. How does she look so pretty even after crying? He’s sure he looks disgusting.

“What’s wrong?” he repeats.

“You deserve the world, Yoongi. I’m so sorry that Isabelle broke your heart, but she was right...you deserve so much better. More than anyone can give you, probably.” She says this while looking intently at her lap, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

At this statement, Yoongi stops. Memories of the past year run through his mind, each rapidly following the other. Who did he go to when Gold Rush lost their slot in Battle of the Bands? Olivia. Who did he vent to about Jin and Jungkook when they were fraying his last nerve? Olivia. Where did he go when he needed to destress? Olivia’s. Who made him feel safe? Olivia.

“...hey,” he whispers gently, taking Olivia’s hands in his. She looks up, tears still swimming in her eyes.

“Isabelle may have broken me...but I think someone’s been slowly putting me back together again without me even realizing it.” He smiles, intertwining their fingers and leaning his forehead against hers.

“...w-what?” Olivia stammers, barely loud enough to hear.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Livvy, I think...I think I’m in love with you, and I didn’t even know until right this minute.”

“Yoongs...I...I don’t…” she whispers. Yoongi gasps sharply, pulling away as fast as he can.

“Olivia...I’m so sorry. I misread everything, everything...forget this happened. I’ll leave, forget I said anything!” he scrambles to get off the couch as rapidly as humanly possible, cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Before he can get far, he’s being pulled back down onto the couch. Making eye contact with Olivia for longer than 10 seconds for the second time tonight, he tries to form an intelligible sentence with his brain. Before anything can come out of his mouth, Olivia’s lips come crashing down onto his.

Yoongi’s eyes widen impossibly, eyebrows raising to meet his bangs. As Olivia’s lips move against his, he stops thinking and sighs into the kiss almost imperceptibly. His hands move to her hips, pulling her as close as he can to himself...he never wants to let go if he can help it.

When the two break eventually break apart for air, Olivia chuckles. “What’s so funny?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I was just trying to tell you that I didn’t know what to say, not that I didn’t like you...way to jump to conclusions,” she giggles.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We solved that miscommunication luckily,” he smirks.

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” Olivia leans her head against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi peers down at her, smiling as he wraps an arm around her.

“Yeah, I think we’ve been hanging out with Jin for too long.”

[willadisastercry]

the boys of voltron when pidge is on her period

TW: description of things to do with mestraution, reference to blood, and depiction of vomiting and passing out

SUMMARY: so basically the boys are absolutely clueless when it comes to Pidge being on her period, only some of them make the connection at times but they kind of eventually forget completely that she even gets it and allura can’t necessarily relate... good thing Pidge’s periods haven’t been particularly painful while she’s been in space, until this one is and she is not at all prepared.

{2:27 am}

Pidge woke up drenched in sweat.

“What the f...?” she mused groggily, blinking dumbly in the dark trying to figure out what was wrong until she felt it, the throbbing ache in her stomach just above her bladder that somehow spread insttantly to her lower back and made her hips feel like they were being wrenched apart.

“Ooowwh,” she groaned queasily, rolling to her side and hugging her stomach tightly.

Shit.

Pidge hadn’t had a heavy period since she’d been in space, she had been so busy with voltron, so physically active that it had lightened substantially and she almost forgot how painful they could be. It was sort of a blessing, that aspect at least.

But then the fact that she was in space at all was entirely inconvenient. No one got to pack before they became the universe’s greatest defender and the castle wasn’t necessarily toting the supplies humans needed, especially supplies specific to female humans. And they just didn’t carry pads or tampons in any Earth souvenir shops because why the fuck would they. 

So, it was awkward enough having to explain to Allura the intricacies of the female reproductive system when she found stained painties in her bin after her first offfical space period, let alone having to relay that to Coran in order for him to create sanitary products for her. Pidge would be utterly mortified if she ever had to ask him for more than the additional supply or additionally medicine to take away the horrible cramps and other unpleasant symptoms. But she hadn’t needed to yet, so she had never worried about it.

Until now. Because now she was crying from the excruciating agony of cramps after not having any for who knew how long.

Voltron had been relatively inactive doing promotions on planets they freed from the Galra, so they hadn’t been on a particularly taxing mission in weeks. Pidge had never even considered the sudden decrease in physical activity could cause her period to come back in full force. She should have considered it. She could’ve ask Coran before... she could’ve made something to...

FUCK.

She almost cried out as the onset of another wave of cramps made her stomach churn. This was bad. Her head was already pounding and her back ached dully, for the moment overshadowed by how foul her stomach and uterus felt, taking turns pulsing but both succeeding in making her want to profusely vomit up all of the green alien goop she’d had for dinner earlier.

The boys had remarked at just how much she was eating that night. Now she knew why. And now she was really regretting it.

Pidge pulled herself up to a hunch and waited a beat as the movement ran its course, a new flare of pain spreading down her back and making its way to the joints of her hips.

She needed to do something. The pain was unbearable. Everything that could hurt, did. She blinked back dots, a small whimper escaping her lips at the thought of it not ceasing anytime soon and so she got to her feet to begin making her way to the kitchen to search for something, anything before the next wave landed and she lost her resolve.

The hallway outside of her room was dark, the only light coming from a lamp in the common room. She made her way swiftly. First to the bathroom with Coran’s alien solution of a pad. Pausing only to wash her hands before trudging on. And then she could feel her stomach pulling, getting ready for another gush of pain. She walked quicker after that, despite the deep ache in her back that threatened the contents in her stomach once more.

When Pidge finally made it to the kitchen she was blinking back more dots and leaning heavily on the counter as she reached for a glass, her hands shaking holding the pitcher as she filled it. She takes a couple of sips. Her headache was splitting now.

There’s nothing in the cabinets for pain relief, there’s usually tea... some sort of herb thing. But there’s nothing, she’ll have to go to the infirmary. And then the realization that she’ll have to drag herself all the way across the ship while she felt like this made her head spin.

Like genuinely spin. Pidge couldn’t decipher why she suddenly felt so faint, she’d eaten more than enough that night, yea sure it hurt but this didn’t warrant-

And before Pidge knew it her mind had gone blank. She didn’t remember letting go of her glass or falling but suddenly the floor was rushing up to meet her face very quickly.

The floor tile of the castle was very cold against her clamy skin and it was very helpful in reviving her, so was the insessant shaking.

Pidge blinked in confusion, but the pain that followed her renewed consciousness prevented any sort of protest. She looked up to see a very worried Keith shaking her shoulders slightly.

“Pidge! What the fuck?! Are you okay?” he rambled off quickly, his eyes working her over trying to deduce what could possibly be the problem.

“Yeah...” she said sort of sadly, but before she could even consider how to start explaining she made a humph sound and lurched forward, narrowly clamping a hand over her mouth to choke back down the saliva that had welled up in her mouth, just as Lance nearly tipped himself over with how fast he had raced to discover the source of commotion.

“What the fuck was that?” he inquired surveying the strange sight, “uh, you guys having a party or something?”

Neither of them answered as Keith scrambled to shove the bowl that previously held earth veggies under Pidge’s chin and helped her sit up before she began aggressively losing the contents of her stomach.

“Holy-“

“Lance, shut up! Pidge passed out... I don’t think she’s feeling great,” Keith explained, rubbing circles on Pidge’s back, her whole body trembling while she retched.

“Oh,” Lance softened, a pang of worry apparnt in his gut when he moved closer to check her out for himself.

He then got to work sweeping the broken glass away from where his friends sat before he lowered himself down as well. When Pidge finally came up for air she reddened immediately. This was just not ideal.

“I’m-i’m done, I think,” she rested her head back against the cabinet and held her stomach.

“So... what the heck was that?” Lance asked taking the bowl away to empty it.

“Uh, nothing—”

“Bull,” Keith interrupted. Pidge wasn’t expecting that, but then again she was talking to the king of hiding injuries and ailments and feelings, especially pain.

“No! I’m fine, really—“

“Yeahhh i’m just not buying it.” 

Pidge’s heart dropped as she realized Keith wasn’t going to just let it go. Crap.

“You passed out and then almost threw up all over me, you’re not fine Pidge. You can tell us what’s wrong... it’s not like we’ll judge or anything,” Keith said gingerly and she knew he meant it. Fuck.

Am I really about to confide in these two boneheads about my period? In space?!

“You can’t laugh,” she choked as another ache stole her breath. It was looking like she would in fact have to admit she was on her period if she wanted any sort of remedy, of which she really really did.

UGH.

“We won’t, we promise,” Lance assured. She didn’t expect that either. From him at least.

“I’m on my fucking period,” she whispered almost inaudibly. Keith nodded in understanding.

“Oh! Well that explains it,” Lance breathed, “I thought you were like deathly ill or something.”

“Juries still out on that one,” Pidge grimaced, squirming as she tried to find a more comfortable position, one that didn’t put so much pressure on her hips or her stomach or her back.

“Oh, c’mon—“

“I wouldn’t finish that statement if I were you buddy,” Keith tried to hold back his laugh.

“Listen to the mullet,” Pidge warned, her death stare shutting the boy up instantly, “because only when you can handle feeling your uterus shedding its own skin without what just happened occurring can you then talk, otherwise please save it.”

Whether it was her subtle threat or the way her voice shook with her last plead, Lance did as he was told.

“So, how can we help you?” Keith offered, “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you like this, like... I mean I know you’re not traditionally sick but for all intents and purposes sure seem to be. So what can we do?”

Pidge shifted uncomfortably, unable to keep a straight face now.

“You can help me find some sort of medicine to take. Anything, literally anything. For pain, or sleep, or death, I don’t care. I’m good with whatever you can find.”

“Damn, I’m sorry Pidge. I’ve never seen you like this over your... your period before,” Lance apologized and scratched his head.

“Yeah, because it’s never been this bad,” she tried to steady her breath and shut her eyes, swaying her knees slowly from side to side because she was so freaking antsy and in such pain it was all she could to do to somewhat soothe herself.

“She look pale to you?” Pidge was barely aware of Lance hushing his worry under his breath.

“Yeah, but she’s like flushed too.”

“Hm...”

And then there was the back of a cold hand against her forehead and an exclamation of concern.

The boys looked at each other worriedly like “shit, this is bad” and then launched into a discussion on how they were going to proceed. Pidge didn’t listen to the conversation that followed, she could only focus on keeping her fist pressed against the right spot on her lower back and refraining from crying out as the pain rose and dulled and rose again.

And then Lance was nudging her, his hands out for her to take. He helped her to her feet, his hands firm on her back when she stopped to wait for the blood rush to dissipate and then guided her over to the sunken couch. Keith must’ve been asleep on it before because there was a pillow and unraveled blanket next to a curled up Kosmo.

She laid down slowly while the boys bustled around her, not having enough energy to accurately produce any theories explaining why Keith would be sleeping in here and not in his own room, saving the thought for later.

Then she was aware that the boys had gone off to wherever and she was alone with a peaceful Kosmo as another horrible pain flared up in her back and travelled to her hips.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, unable to surpress the tears as they rolled down her face, her breath hitching now. Pidge rolled to her stomach and brought her legs under her in a sort of mock child’s pose, accidentally waking Kosmo up in the process. But to her surprise, he didn’t seem annoyed at the disturbance like he normally would’ve been, he’d stretched out in front of her and licked her face instead.

Pidge could’ve sworn he looked genuinely worried, somehow sensing that the salty wetness of her face and contorted breathing meant anguish, because he then went to comfort her. This is right about when Keith and Lance turned up with Coran and some strange alien goodies in the heat of an enlightening conversation about how a cryopod likely wouldn’t make a lick of a difference in this situation.

“Good boy,” Keith commended, petting his wolf’s head who was in a vice grip in Pidge’s arms, but he didn’t seem to mind in the least.

“Little one, I am displeased to hear of your great discomfort. If I had known these menstrautions could be accompanied by such horrible pains I would’ve something prepared sooner... but fear not, my girl, because I may very well have a few remedies that might do the trick.”

Pidge sighed and heaved herself to a sitting position, Kosmo turning himself around and nestling in her lap. The boys silently remarking at how she’d somehow looked worse than before.

Her face and eyes were blotchy and puffy from crying and her trembling was more apparent now, either from the cold of the common room or her abnormal temperature, regardless she looked like she was really going through it.

And she was because as soon as she straightened up her face fell. Keith didn’t wait even a tick before he took off barreling for the veggie bowl, vaulting over the couch just in time to once again shove the bowl under Pidge’s chin.

Kosmo whined in distress.

“My girl...” Coran lamented, fussing with the supplies they had gathered in Lance’s arms.

“Here, once you’ve calmed down try this, it’ll make you sleepy but it should ease the pain for now,” Coran had a thick blue leaf in his hands.

Pidge nodded, Keith’s hand behind her neck gripping her solidly in case she tipped over because she looked like she was about to. Her face was ashen, almost tinged green.

“I’ll get you something to wash that down with,” Lance stated and headed for the kitchen. Coran headed off somewhere too.

It took her a minute to be sure she was done but when she was she shivered and sat back, Kosmo nudging his head under her arm.

“You cold? Or just shaky?”

“Cold. I run fevers sometimes but only usually the first day and then I spew when the cramps pick up... hey look, I’m sorry to be making such a fuss so late and keep you all up for something so stup—“

“Are you kidding?” Keith seemed genuinely taken back as he draped the blanket he was using earlier around the tiny girl’s shoulders.

“Wha—don’t apologize!! You know we’d all do anything to make sure you’re okay, your Pidge! You’re like our nerdy little sister, how can we not fuss over you?” Lance said when he returned with a little laugh. Pidge managed a smile while she gnawed on the oddly textured leaf, gulping it down quickly with the water Lance brought.

“And I was up anyway,” Keith started “I couldn’t sleep so I came out to hang with Kosmo. I was surprised you didn’t yell at me for being awake when you first came in. And then I heard the glass break followed by a sloid thud, so naturally I needed to see if ya know you were alive.”

They all laughed at that. Pidge let out a big yawn.

“I forgot you even get your period, Pidge. You never let on that you’re in pain, like ever. That’s freaky, that’s like a superpower holy--”

“I’ve got just what you need, my girl!” Coran beamed, effectively shutting down Lance’s tangent.

Coran presented Pidge with a blanket.

“Uhh, thanks?” she took it from him and rubbed at her eyes.

He then held up a remote and pressed a button. The blanket started to glow, it was getting warm.

“Oh, yes! You’re the best, Coran.” 

Pidge gave Keith’s blanket back and wrapped Coran’s around her middle, Kosmo seemed to like it to because he nuzzled into it and pawed at her for more of it to cover him.

“I don’t get it, if she’s feverish isn’t she gonna over heat?” Keith asked, more confused than anything, and maybe a little sad that his blanket was rejected.

“From what Allura has told me, heat sometimes soothes the cramps associated with a female human’s menstruation! It is quite fascinating, but it makes perfect sense, you see the release of the hormone prostaglandin is a hypothermic process so--”

“Okay, spare us and our simple minds. Anyway let’s be quieter, I think she’s finally asleep,” Lance pointed to a very peaceful Pidge curled up in her new blanket with Kosmo, her mouth hung open and steadily blowing on a tuft of hair with each breath.

“I think it’s time for you boys to retire as well,” Coran suggested, settling down at the other end of the couch, “I’m sure our Pidgeon has greatly appreciated all of your assistance, but you both need to rest, I can watch over her from here.”

Keith and Lance shared a look.

“What’s the harm is staying with her a bit longer, just to make sure she doesn’t get sick again or anything, ya know?” Keith postured.

“Yeah, I don’t see anything wrong with staying just a little while longer,” Lance said stretching out at Pidge’s feet, she was nestled in the corner of the couch, so Keith took to the other part of the couch by Kosmo and rubbed his nose.

And within no time the two boneheads were out. Lance’s head resting on Pidge’s leg as a pillow, limbs strewn all about, snoring like an old man. While Keith was cacooned himself in his own blanket all but his arm because it was trapped under both Pidge and Kosmo.

This was the scene that Allura walked into early that morning. She was very confused to say the least.

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.12 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st 5:40 AM

Warren County, Illinois

As Brad Doyle backed his Mustang out of his driveway, Gabriel Couture passed the sign reading:

WELCOME TO HADDONFIELD

in his semi-truck. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. The last few miles are always the hardest, he thought to himself, time seems to slow down. He squinted through the rain.

Another sign appeared. This one was a billboard, featuring a young looking blonde girl with breasts too large to be real, wearing a black bikini. Above her, in large red letters was printed:

RABBIT-IN-RED LOUNGE.

To the right of the model in shiny purple letters read:

MISTY DAWN.

And under that in plain white letters:

AVN WINNER FOR HOT NEW STARLET OF THE YEAR.

Gabriel cracked his neck and shook his head smiling. He had known Misty Dawn in High School—only then her name had been Ellen Rawls and her breasts were definitely not that large. I think I would have noticed those when we were dancing against one another at Homecoming.

He even remembered the song they danced to: KC and Jojo's 'All My Life'.

Another billboard came into view. This one had a picture of fire on the left and a picture of bright and shining golden gates on the right. At the top it read:

IF YOU DIE TONIGHT? WHAT WILL IT BE? HEAVEN OR HELL?!

Gabriel rolled his eyes. That's Haddonfield for you, he thought, religious billboard right after the one for the titty bar.

He checked the clock at the bottom right of his Qualcomm screen. ‪5:42‬.

💀

1.2.13 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st 5:42 AM

Haddonfield, Illinois

‪5:42 was precisely what the clock on Raj Gudipati's wall read as Jack Tate handed him his credit card to pay for the service to his car as well as the two Frappachinos for him and his wife, the Mountain-Dew for Damon, and the three bags of Doritos.‬

“Damon!” He called out as Raj took the card and swiped it. Ophelia Tate appeared behind him and put her chin on his shoulder.

“There you are,” Jack said, “Where have you been?” Raj handed him back his card.

“I was Facebooking,” she said quietly.

“Jeez Ophelia, this whole time?” He asked, putting his card back in his wallet. Raj's receipt machine came to life.

“I had a lot to catch up on. Lot's of people wishing me luck and stuff.” She said yawning.

Jack chuckled and scrawled his signature on the receipt with the ballpoint pen that was attached to the counter. “Damon!” Jack called again.

🎃

Damon took a swipe on a giant pineapple on the screen and then groaned. He turned away from Fruit Ninja and looked at Spitz, “I gotta go little dude...sorry.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Spitz said.

“Yeah, man, I'm sure we'll see you around,” Richie said, waving.

“Yeah,” Damon nodded, “It was cool to meet you guys too. Even you Lonnie.”

Lonnie had migrated, with his porn of course, from the ambiguity of the back corridor to the arcade room. He had cut back on at least 80% of his doucheness during their rousing bouts of Fruit Ninja, Mortal Kombat, and Terminator Genisys.

“Fuck you phlegm-wad.” Lonnie said, looking up from the boobs momentarily.

“Yeah...whatever,” Damon smiled. “See ya.”

🎃

“Damon!” Jack called again.

“I'm here, I'm here.” Damon groaned, stepping out of the arcade section and into the main store. The back door that led out to the shop area opened and Diego stepped through. “I'm all done Raj!” He called, “I'm gonna go ahead and head out.”

“Did Quinn clean up the shop?!” Raj called out.

“I told him to as soon as he's done,” Diego said, pausing at the door and looking out at the pouring rain.

“Done with what?” Raj asked.

“This.” Diego replied and pointed out of the window as headlights splashed across the raindrop studded glass.

“There's Quinn with your ride,” Diego said.

“Wonderful,” Jack said.

Quinn pulled the Tate Family Wagon up to the front door of the Superfuel Deluxe, and left the keys in the ignition, hopping out, and running through the pouring rain and ducking into the store with a wail.

“Oh geez, it's raining hard!” He laughed. It sounded a great deal like Lee Chumway's goofy laugh.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Diego reached into a pocket in his coveralls and dug out a pink receipt and handed it to Jack.

“Hospitals and Car Shops are the only places in the world that still use printers like this,” Jack said, pointing to the perforated edge of the sheet of paper.

Diego chucked, “I know right?”

Quinn sneezed. “Excuse me,” he shivered, “Those drops are fat and cold!”

Jack extended his hand. “I can't thank you guys enough for your quick work tonight.” He said, shaking Diego's hand first and then Quinn's. He had to wipe the water off on his shirt when he let go of Quinn.

“No problem Doc,” Quinn laughed.

Diego nodded, “We'll be seeing you I'm sure,” he said, “you can't hide in a small town like this.” And then he looked at Ophelia Tate, who was again buried in her smartphone. “Good luck with your new job at the hospital Miss.” He said.

Ophelia wasn't listening, and Jack had to elbow her. “Whaa?” she said, looking up. Damon smirked behind her.

“I said good luck with your new job at the hospital,” Diego repeated.

Ophelia smiled, “Oh..thank you so much.” Then she shot a glance at her husband, “Geez, word travels fast here.”

“You don't know the half Miss,” Quinn chuckled.

Raj called from behind them, “Quinn! Is the shop all cleaned up?”

Quinn saluted and then turned and walked away.

Diego gave a little wave, “You guys take care.”

Jack took a deep breath, “Okay, guys..let's get on over to the truck stop down the road and get a nice hot shower before he go check out the hospital!”

They ran out into the rain, Jack laughing wildly, Ophelia screaming, and Damon saying nothing, embarrassed to be with the two idiots he called his parents. As they jumped into the car, and Jack threw the shifter into drive, the headlights of a shiny new white truck splashed over the parking lot.

The truck was owned by Bernard “Booger” Tyson. Booger had only six payments left on the thing before he had paid it off. Unfortunatley Tyson would never drive the truck again..his head was still stuck in a grease fryer. Instead the two men who had put a monkey wrench in the Tyson family finances were at the helm. Lloyd Chumway in the driver's seat with his kid brother Lee riding shotgun.

Ophelia gave the truck a glance as they passed them and turned out onto the highway. “Look,” she said to her husband, “You move to the country like this, you need to get you a truck like that Jack.”

Back inside, Diego put his hands on the counter and looked at Raj who looked back at him.

“I'm taking off Raj,” he said simply.

“Is the shop clean?” Raj asked, turning back toward his satellite box.

“Nothing Quinn can't handle.”

Raj looked back at him, “Are you sure?”

Diego smiled, “I cleaned up most of it.”

Raj pointed outside, “Are you sure you want to walk in this?”

Diego shrugged, “I don't have a choice, I'm not going to stay here, I'm tired and ready for my bed.”

Raj shrugged back, “I'd take you home, but Yuvakrishna drove me and he's gonna pick me up when he gets off after Jake comes in.”

“Did he get that truck he wanted?” Diego asked.

Raj nodded and turned back toward the TV. “Yes, he got it yesterday.”

“Sweet,” Diego said, “He showed me a picture, it looked pretty sick.”

Raj waved with his hand, “He spent way too much money for that thing.”

Diego rolled his eyes, “See you later Raj,” he said, turning toward the door.

“Good bye Diego,” he said, “stay safe.”

Then he heard snickering toward the back of the store and caught sight of the top of Spitz's head. “Hey!” he called toward the back, “Are you going to buy something tonight?!” The door chimed as Diego stepped out.

He nodded toward the two men who exited the truck and were walking toward the store. They both had their hands in their pockets. Diego put his head down and stepped out into the pouring rain. He got a few yards down the road, well out of the light of the gas station, when he really began to wish he had waited there instead of venturing out in this monsoon. He was already completely soaked, and water was filling up inside of his shoes, but he knew that if he turned back now, he would just be miserable and wet and still that much further from home, so he kept walking.

If only I had a hood or an umbrella or something, he thought. The rain was literally pounding him in the face and water was running off his sopped head and into his eyes. All of a sudden he remembered the mask in his pocket. The thought of walking down the side of the road in the Halloween mask made him chuckle to himself. I'm gonna scare the shit out of anyone who drives by, he thought. But after a few more steps of blinding rain, he thought, Screw it, and pulled the mask out of his pocket and stuck it on his head. It brought little relief, but a little bit of relief is better than no relief at all.

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