#and Apple Music I’m used to but it’s so expensive

[pissbabysupreme]

Got an iPod classic lately and I’m trying to see if I like it or not

[loversveil]

the fact that you have to manually put ur playlists on private on Apple Music is crazy bc why’d I just get a message from someone I went to uni with saying “why do you have a playlist called ‘im making an oil painting of my grandfathers corpse’” like what do you think Timothy

[oosleepyfaeoo]

How could you be so blind?

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Blind!Reader

Summary: Aemond sees you as the most beautiful woman in the world but you can't see that. (sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warnings: a lil fluff, ANGST, reader is a female, Alys Rivers being a warning

Words: 2k

A/n: This is my first fanfiction so feel free to criticize and help me to improve. Also, English is not my first language.

Part 2

It was at his sweet sister's birthday party that Aemond met the most beautiful woman he ever saw. 

You stood by the larger window alone with an almost empty wine glass in your small hands, the cool moonlight showering on your beautiful form. Making your simple grey gown shine like one of those expensive Gucci dresses he sees when he goes (forced to go) with his sister and mother shopping. 

Your (h/c) was down, making it a little hard to admire your features. 

Helaena told him that she met you in her History class, Y/n was your name. 

Aemond's gaze was forced away from you when his brother’s voice sounded by his side. 

“Well, well, well,” Aegon says with a vicious smirk on his lips. His purple gaze fixed on your small form. “Who’s that gorgeous lil minx?”   

Aemond rolls his eye, knowing fully well that his brother's intentions weren’t respectable.  

“I’m surprised to see your hands empty, Brother.” He says as he looks down at Aegon. “Did Mother hide the bottles of wine from you?” 

Aegon's smirk widens as he looks at Aemond. “Oh she tried but I found one.” He lifts his arm, showing the expensive bottle of wine that he stole from the kitchen earlier. “You still didn’t answer my question, lil brother.” 

Aemond sighs and looks back at you, noticing your hips swinging softly with the music playing in the background. “She’s a friend of Helaena.”  

Aegon hums “I see.” and took a step forward making Aemond frown. “Maybe I should go and ask her if she wants me to fill her glass again... and maybe go somewhere more private.”  

Before Aegon could take one more step, Aemond grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him. Walking towards their mother,  who’s talking with their grandfather.  

Alicent looks at her two sons and frowns as she sees the bottle of wine in Aegon’s hand.  

“Where did you find that?” She asked as she took the bottle away from him, swatting his hand away as he tried to take it back. “For Gods sake Aegon! Can you please behave like a normal human being for just ONE night?”  

Aegon rolls his eyes and sat on the sofa. “C’mon, Mom! I’ve been sober for like... 3 days? It’s a party and I was just gonna have ONE glass.”  

Alicent sighs and rests her forehead on her hand. “Aegon... You are in rehabilitation treatment! You are NOT supposed to drink!”  

The two of them start to bickering. Aemond looks back to where you were but to his surprise, you weren’t there. He looks around, trying to find you in the crowd before him. After a few seconds, he spots you by the food table with his sister. 

Taking a deep breath, he walks towards them.  

“Y/n! You need to try Talya’s apple pie! It’s the best- Hi Aemond!” Helaena smiles sweetly at her brother.  

“Hello, sister.” Aemond smiles at his sister and then looks at you, nodding a small hello towards you. Frowning when you don’t knowledge him at all. “So, what do you think about the party? Mother spends the whole month trying to prepare the perfect party for you.” 

“The party is perfect!” Helaena smiles softly as her purple gaze stops on her mother. “She always puts so much effort into us.”  

“I’m going to thank her for the party.” She says while putting her empty glass down on the table. “Aemond, can you do me a favor? Please keep company for Y/n.” 

Aemond nods eagerly to his sister. “Of course!” He turns to you and smiles. “Care to join me on the balcony? I need to take some fresh air.” 

“I would love to” Your voice was soft, making Aemond's knees almost buckle. You still didn’t look at his face, your gaze focused on his shirt. Maybe she's shy. Or maybe she's disgusted by my scar. 

His gaze darkened at that thought. Aemond starts walking towards the balcony, turning his head to the side, noticing you still standing by the table.  

“Huh... I think I might need a lil help. I don’t know very well this house yet.” You said with a small laugh, your delicate hands grabbing a walking stick. “Helaena might not told you since she's a lil airheaded but I'm blind.” 

At that moment Aemond wanted to curse at his sister so hard. As sweet as she is, how could she forget to tell him that you are blind?!  

“I’m so sorry, Y/n!” Aemond says quickly, his face turning red from embarrassment. “It was rude of me. I should have noticed your walking stick.”  

You let out a giggle as you take his big, warm hand on yours, letting him guide you towards the balcony. 

“It’s okay, Aemond. Huh... Can I call you Aemond, right?” You asked as you sit on the soft sofa on the balcony, feeling his warmth by your side as he also took a sit. 

“Of course, Darling.” Aemond’s eye sparkles as he smiles softly upon seeing your cheeks turning rosey at the nickname.   

They sat there in comfortable silence. Aemond watching the moon shining in the dark sky while you take a deep breath, enjoying the fresh breeze flowing through your hair. 

“This dress is not lilac, is it?” You asked out of nowhere as you play with your fingers. 

Aemond frowns as he looks down at you, staring at your grey gown. “Huh...” He scratches his jaw, nervous to tell you the truth. “It is not... Sorry.” 

You let out a loud snort, slapping your hand on your face. Trying to hide your laugh.  

“I really need to stop shopping alone.” You laughed. 

Aemond smiles widely, loving the sound of your laugh. “I bet you would look lovely in lilac but I must say, you look ravishing in grey.”   

“Helaena said that Daeron was the charmer of the family but now I must admit that she might be wrong.” You say with a shy smile, trying to look towards his face.  

Aemond laughs and puts his hand on yours, his thumb rubbing softly on your skin. “Helaena says the truth. I’m not like this normally.” 

“Now I'm curious how you act normally.” You lift an eyebrow, looking at him with mischievous eyes. 

“People usually are intimidated by my disability.” His voice was low and dark, making you frown a little. “I’m used to people finding me frightful. That's why it’s rare for me to act like this.”  

You turned to him and lifted your hands, putting them before him. “Can I see you?” You asked. “I know it’s weird. You can say no if you want but I use my hands to see people.”  

Aemond tenses up with your words. Afraid of your delicate hands on his disgusting scar but he found himself nodding, saying a quick yes when he remember that you couldn’t see him nodding. 

Happy with his answer, slowly and softly you start feeling his face. Smiling happily when you notice that he has dimples. He had a strong jaw and his lips were thin but soft which made you blush a little. His nose was a little crooked which you found charming.  

As you move your hands up, you feel a rough line under your skin. Tilting your head to the side, your finger follows the line. Your finger bumped into a soft material which made you think that he might have an eye patch and the rough line that your finger followed was a scar. He doesn’t have an eye. 

You can feel him tense under your touch. Sighing, you move your hands up to his hair. Feeling his soft long locks, reminded you of Helaena's hair. 

Putting your hands on his broad shoulders, you smile brightly. “I must admit, whoever finds you frightful must be blind.” You both laugh at your joke. “You are beautiful, Aemond.”  

He could feel his heart tightening with your words. You are beautiful, Aemond. No one ever said that to him after the accident. Not even his own mother. Only looking at him with pity in her eyes. 

Closing his eye and taking a deep breath, relishing your sweet scent. “Thank you, Y/n. You don’t know how much those words mean to me.” 

Since that night, you two were almost inseparable. Spending most of your free time in your small apartment watching movies, well listening for you but you enjoyed the way Aemond described the movie image to you.  

Aemond would always get you from your class to have lunch, taking you to the most expensive restaurants in town. 

You said once that he spoiled you too much and that you would be fine with pizza while sitting cozily on your old sofa but he insist saying that you deserve everything he could give.  

//// \\\\

“My brother is completely infatuated with you,” Helaena says as she takes a bit off from her sandwich.  

You frown at her words, taking a sip from your iced tea. “Don’t be silly, Helaena.” You say with a dry laugh “We are just good friends. That’s all.”  

True to be told. You had a massive crush on Aemond.  It’s been a year since the two of you met and you fell completely for him. He was everything you wanted in a partner. Sweet, gentle, patient, and smart. But you knew that he didn’t view you the same way you do. That’s why you were forced to bury your feeling for him and try to forget the best you can. 

Helaena hums and gives you a smirk. “Oh I know for real that he doesn’t see you as a good friend at all,” she says with a giggle. “Yesterday I eavesdropped on him requesting a Chanel gown and the measures that he said were likely similar to yours.” 

“Why would he buy me such an expensive dress, Helaena?” You frown, your heart beating swiftly.  

Helaena shrugs and took one more bit from her sandwich. “I don’t know. Maybe he will take you to the family company party this weekend.” She takes a sip of her water and smiles. “You know... He talks a lot about you.” 

The blush on your cheeks darkened at the thought that Helaena might be right. Was he really interested in you? A blind simple woman, who lives in a small apartment in a scummy neighborhood. 

After lunch, you and Helaena went to the library to finish some extra work for literature class. You asked Helaena to help you pick a book for Aemond since you wanted to give him a gift after everything he gave you. She said he has a passion for old civilization so you bought a book about the First Men. 

Saying a quick goodbye, both of you parted ways and you went to your apartment.  

You spend the rest of the day thinking of what Helaena told you. You were with Aemond yesterday and didn’t tell you about the Targaryen company party but he might have forgotten. After all, he’s a little similar to his sister.  

Jumping off of your sofa, you go wash your face and then go straight to bed. Tomorrow, before you go to your class, you will pass by his apartment to have some breakfast, give him his present and maybe talk about the weekend. 

//// \\\\

The trip to his apartment was better than the first one. Being familiar with the sounds and smells of his street, you mapped the street in your head. Also, you didn’t feel afraid walking around this neighborhood since is where the most wealthy and important people live. So it’s normal to have more security around here. 

Saying a quick hello to the doorman, you take the elevator to Aemond’s penthouse with his book under your arm. It’s 9 am, a little early but you knew Aemond would be awake by now. He likes to wake up early in the morning to train.  

Walking out of the elevator, you put your walking stick beside you and ring his doorbell. You wait for a moment before you hear smooth footsteps and the door opening.  

Smiling brightly. “Took you long enough-” 

You were cut off by a feminine voice. “Who are you?”  

“Huh...” You wet your lips, feeling suddenly nervous about this stranger. Did you ring the wrong door? “I’m Y/n... A-Aemond’s friend.” You mentally curse yourself when your voice starts to tremble. Hating how this woman's gaze made you feel small. 

“Interesting.” You could feel the smirk forming on the woman’s lips. “I’m Alys Rivers. Aemond’s girlfriend.”  

Your heart drops at her words. You heard a lot about her in the news. She was a famous model, making millions on several catwalks for the most famous fashion brands. Of course, Aemond would date a supermodel. Stupid! Stupid! Y/n. 

“Aemond never mentioned of ...” Alys looks you up and down, noticing your walking stick in your hand. “His handicap friend.”  

Handicap. You hated that word. Tears threatening to fall down your eyes, you took a deep breath and tightened your grip on your walking stick. “Is Aemond here? I have something for him.”  

“Yes.” She hums. “But he still sleeping after a long night.” You knew full well what she meant and made your cheeks burn in anger and hurt. “I can give him your gift if you want.” 

Wanting to get out of there as quickly you can, not wishing for her to see your tears. You nod and give her the book.  

“Y-Yes... Thank you.” Your voice trembles as you turn around quickly and got into the elevator. 

You feel numb as you walk back to your apartment. Thinking how stupid you were to think that someone like Aemond could see you more than a friend. 

Deciding to skip the classes of the day, you put your phone in silence and jump into your bed. Wanting nothing more than forget about the recent events.  

Aemond could never love someone like you. You thought as more tears run down your face.  

But little did you know that was completely the opposite of what Aemond feels. 

Should I do part 2?

[gretavangroupie]

Valor - (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 17.1k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Cheating, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Allusions to Suicide, Allusions to Shady Activities. Smut: Kissing, Allusions to Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

You could hardly see out the back window, your entire life piled up to the roof of the car. You were thankful on days like today, that you had a car big enough to fit it all. Your every worldly possession, reduced down to a handful of boxes and trash bags, now occupying your backseat. You shifted into reverse and turned your body to look out the back window of your old ‘73 Scout. Your eyes peeked through the visible sliver of the rear window, but not before catching sight of the dress you were slated to wear just 3 months from now. That, however, was the reason you were packed into this car in the first place. 

‘Go ahead and try to leave. You’ll be back when you realize I’m as good as it gets for you.’ his words still echoing through your head as if they were being played through a loudspeaker. ‘You need me. You have nothing without me. You’ll never make it on your own.’ And that’s exactly what he wanted you to believe. He’d told you that so often you wondered if it was himself he was trying to convince instead of you. 

You were set to marry Peter the second week of July. The plans were made, invitations sent. But as you stopped by his office to deliver his plate lunch, what you’d walked in on was not the scene of a man ready to be greeted by his soon to be wife. No, it was a very different scene, straight from one of those Playboy magazines you could buy at the Quik-Stop on Douglas.

You can still hear the sound of the ceramic plate shattering against the terrazzo floors. The gasp of air that left the lips of his new bookkeeper, sprawled out across his desk. You can remember the way the peas scattered across the floor in every direction and the way they felt smashing under your shoes as you fled his office. 

You waited for him to come home that night. Your things were already packed away in bags and boxes by the time he finally meandered through the front door of the apartment. Then came the excuses. The begging and pleading that quickly turned vicious and accusatory. The ‘maybe if you put out more, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere’ lines, that you knew to be a load of shit. You knew Peter wasn’t one to shy away from clearing his conscience at someone else's expense. Your mind was made up before he ever came home. You knew you couldn’t stay here, not with him. Not after this. 

You aren’t sure why you brought the dress with you. You could have easily left it at your mothers, letting it hang in her guest room closet to collect dust and rot until the end of time. But you didn’t, you knew that bringing it would give you that reminder of why you were leaving. So with fifteen dollars of gas in the tank, and your Bruce Springsteen 8-track, you and your things began the trek towards Atlanta, ready to start again. Ready to live a life uninhibited. Ready to find an adventure. 

—

The chorus of ‘State Trooper’ played through the fuzzy car speakers as you popped a cinnamon hard candy into your mouth. Your eyes caught sight of the welcome sign as you crossed the Iowa-Missouri border in a blur. It had been quite a few years since you’d been back to Missouri. Actually, you hadn’t visited since your family moved in the third grade. It was an abrupt move, your parents pulling you from school midway through the year with little to no explanation. You were placed in the back of your parents' Taurus and the life that you had known flashed by in a matter of the five minutes it took to make your way from one side of town to the other. You liked Iowa though. You made friends there, had a life and were active in school extracurriculars. It’s where you met Peter, and fell in love, though now that part didn’t exactly fit the narrative of your happy story. 

As the song began to fade out into the next track, you heard it. The metallic grinding beneath the hood. The hell is that? You spun the volume knob down to zero, listening again for the noise, wondering if maybe you had just run over something on the freeway. As you passed mile marker 22 you heard it again, louder. Whatever it was had your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know the first thing about cars, definitely not enough to fix anything. Then it became more frequent. Persistent. Something was really wrong. 

In a panic you pulled off the road into the overgrown grass of the shoulder, pulling out your roadmap and unfolding it across the steering wheel. You tried to get a sense of your surroundings, knowing you’d crossed the border not too long ago. You pinpoint your location in search of the next town you’d come across in what you knew to be a collection of nearly abandoned mining towns. A bead of sweat collected on your forehead, the wind dying down as the sun began to set. The impending darkness adds another factor of stress to an already stressful situation. As your finger traced a line up the interstate, you saw the familiar name. The place just on your mind mere minutes ago. You don’t remember too much about Joslyn, but what you do remember of it, is that there was an auto repair shop, and you were in desperate need if you were going to make it to Atlanta. With an estimated thirty miles to Joslyn from your current spot, you started your car back up, and pulled back out onto the road, praying you would make it there without doing anymore damage. 

The metallic noise seemed to stay consistent, but with every mile that passed you knew the dollar signs were adding up. Of course you took the money stashed away for the wedding, he didn’t get to keep that. Why should he? Consider it severance. However, car repairs was not how you wanted to spend that money. You planned to use it for a deposit and first month's rent on an apartment, hoping it would be enough to tide you over until you found a job. 

You knew you had plenty of useful skills, you were near the top of your class in school. You planned to work with Peter at the accounting firm after you married, and you hoped you’d be able to find a similar position in your new city. You were snapped from your daydreams as you saw the sign welcoming you to Joslyn, however, the old decrepit sign, about twenty years past needing to be replaced, sent a cold chill down your spine. The way it barely hung on to the wooden stakes made you feel anything but welcome, and your instincts told you to turn back. As you limped your car further into town, you realized that the vibrant city you left all those years ago had been in steady decline ever since. Homes abandoned and pillaged, with broken windows and spray painted siding. Cars sat deteriorating in driveways that were barely visibly under the overgrown grass and trees. You had no sense of ‘home’ despite this being the town you were born in. You barely recognized it, until you saw Louie’s. 

Knowing you would find answers there, you pulled into an empty parking space, almost afraid to pull the key from the ignition, wondering if it would turn on again when you got back inside. You grabbed your fringed purse from the passenger seat, and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head as you jumped down from the driver's seat. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as you walked towards the front door of the diner, seeing a few older patrons lining the bartop and scattered through a few booths through the large windows. 

The bell rang as you pulled the door open, alerting everyone of your presence. Ten heads turned to look at you all at once, and suddenly you felt like a spectacle as you stood there in your halter top and waist hugging jeans. 

“Take a seat anywhere ya’d like, hun.” a lady in a pink apron called out from across the room. Her voice was gruff and far deeper than it should be for a lady, you thought. You made your way towards an empty bar stool, leaving a space between you and an older man in a newsboy cap, sliding his fork through a piece of cherry pie. You gave him a curt smile as you settled on the stool and placed your bag on the counter. It smelled good, and you felt a small rumble in your stomach as you watched plates being sent to the window. If you’d had more time you’d probably enjoy a late lunch, but you didn’t, so you couldn’t.

The same woman approached you, handing you a laminated menu and gesturing a coffee cup towards you in silent question. You nodded your head and smiled, placing the menu down on the counter. 

“What’ll ya have, sugar…” she asked, pouring coffee into your mug from the yellow stained carafe. 

“Oh, I’m great with just the coffee for now, thank you.” you responded, seeing her eyes rake over you with curiosity. 

“Just passin’ through?” she asks, placing the carafe back on the counter. 

“Sort of. I’m on my way to Georgia, but I think I need a mechanic to look at my car. Started knocking when I hit the border. This was the first town I thought might have one.” you answer. 

The lady’s eyes flash over to the man next to you. He looks over at you and looks back at her giving her a slight nod. “Yeah we got one.” he says, twisting his stool to face you. “You’ll have to try and get it down to Ace’s, well Jake’s now I reckon. But he should be able to get ya fixed up.” 

“Would you be able to give me directions?” you ask, digging into your purse in search of a pen. You grab a paper napkin from the dispenser, and click the end of your pen on the countertop as he nods his head. 

“Yeah, so you’re gonna take a left out of the lot here, go down ‘bout 2 miles ‘er so, you’ll see a Church of the Nazarene and take that left there. Go up that hill ‘bouta ‘nother mile and you’ll see a dirt road on your right. His shops’ at the end of the drive there. Can tell him Bubba sent ‘cha, and he’ll help out a pretty lady I’m sure of it.”

You quickly scribble down his directions, and toss the napkin and pen into your bag. “Thank you. I–I really should be going, It’ll be dark soon and I–”

“Should finish your cup there at least.” the lady says, leaning onto the counter. “You sure you’re not from ‘round here, honey? You look awful familiar.”

“Not exactly.” you say, cutting the conversation short. You place a few dollars on the counter and grab your bag, “Thank you. For the directions. I appreciate it.” you say, watching the man tip his hat to you as you make your way out of the diner and back to your car. Jumping into the front seat you send up a quick prayer that she’ll start and as you twist the key you hear the engine roar to life. 

With the napkin sitting on your leg, you pulled out of the parking space heading further into town. The clock on the dash read 4:43, and you hoped you’d catch them before they closed up for the night. You saw the church he spoke of up in the distance, what was probably once a pristine white building, was now showing wear and tear with no one to fix it up. You took the left, the metallic clicking beneath the hood growing louder as you pressed forward on the gas pedal to climb the hill. With the windows down the sound was deafening, the cool breeze blowing through the window alleviated the sweat forming on your neck. In the dissipating sunlight you saw the orange dirt road and hesitantly turned to travel down its short path. A multitude of old abandoned cars littered the premises, and you wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. You slowed your speed to a crawl, the clicking from your engine announcing your presence as you pulled closer towards the building. 

Your headlights lit up the front of the building, an old gray sheet metal building, flash rust covering most of the sign that read ‘Ace’s Garage’. Two men in old rotted patio chairs stood slowly as you put the car in park. You shut off the engine and took a deep breath as you jumped out onto the dusty dirt road.  

“Hi, I’m sorry, am I too late? I know it’s close to closing.” you murmured, stepping around to the front of the car. They both just stood there in their faded blue coveralls that looked like they hadn’t had a washing in some time. The taller man had his unzipped and the sleeves tied around his waist. A dirty white t-shirt beneath concealed what seemed to be a plethora of ink adorning his body. Neither of them jumped to respond to you, and your eyes searched theirs for any sort of answer as the shorter man begrudgingly flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his dirty boot. “Closed at 4:30.” he says.

“Shut up Jake. No. We heard you coming ‘bout a mile away.” the other, taller man said with a curt smile. His dark disheveled curls were tied up in a messy bun that hadn’t been touched since he put it there this morning. Wisps of hair surrounded his head in a halo of sweaty dark strands. “Doesn’t sound too good. Sounds like you’ve got something going on under the hood.”

“It just started doing it about an hour or so ago. Right after I crossed the border. Never heard it before, and I have a long trip ahead of me so I figured I should probably get it checked out.” you reply, twisting your hands around the strap of your purse. 

“Could be a number of things…” he pauses, stepping over towards your car. He places a grease covered hand on the hood of your baby blue Scout and turns to look at you. “These Scouts are pretty good little cars, but they are notorious for having engine issues. Afraid to say you might be a victim of that. Though, maybe it’s just a bad wheel bearing.”

“Nah.” the other man, who you now know as Jake, says suddenly, stepping forward slowly with his arms crossed across his chest. He doesn’t say much, just places his hand under the hood and opens the latch. He steps up on the front bumper, and takes a look into the engine compartment, resting his tattoo covered hands on either side of the frame. After a few quiet minutes he steps down, and closes the hood staring at the taller man. “Collapsed lifter, but that’s the least of her issues. Camshaft is fucked.”

“When did you say it started doing this?” the curly haired man asks. 

“About an hour ago. I know it’s bad but, what’s that mean?” you ask nervously.

“Means you better call your husband to come pick you up.” Jake said, looking out towards the field in the distance.

“Husband?” you question, seeing his eyes travel to the diamond on your left finger. You quickly flip it around and look back to him. “Oh, I’m not married. I don’t have a husband. I don’t live here. I was just passing through.”

“Shit place to get stranded.” he quips, turning on his heel and making his way towards the door of the car. He spits towards the ground as he pulls the door open and climbs inside.

“Stranded?” you blurt out, catching the eyes of the taller man. 

“Daniel, get her out of the fuckin’ way.” Jake says calmly, leaning his head out the window as he starts your car.

He grabs your arm and ushers you out of the way as Jake pulls your car forward into the empty bay beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights. He nods, motioning for you to follow him towards the garage, the air dusty as your tires kicked up dirt. The car shuts off and he jumps out, his boots making a loud thud as they land on the dirty concrete floors. As you follow Daniel into the garage he stops, placing his hands on his hips as he watches Jake lift the hood once more. This time, he grabs a ladder and a work light, hanging it from the inside of the hood. You look around at the garage, noticing the side you occupied was slightly more messy than the bay on the opposite side. Tools scattered about but in a way that you could tell they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

As you turned further you noticed a tan cover hanging loosely over a car parked between the two bays, you didn’t pay much mind to it, as your brain was bouncing from object to object. Your eyes caught Jake’s as he peered up from the engine compartment, quickly flicking them back down as he examined the condition of your motor. You let out a sigh and leaned backwards, resting your weight on the covered car. Daniel snapped his head in your direction seeing you before looking over at Jake. He quickly turned back to you, and pulled your arm to stand up again. “Probably don’t want to lean on that one. Here, let’s go find you somewhere to sit.” he said, walking you further into the garage. You looked over to Jake again, seeing him concentrated on his task, a single strand of brown hair hanging long in his face. 

You followed Daniel as he led you to a plaid nylon folding chair, similar to the ones they arose from earlier. The once white fabric was now a dingy, dirty gray, stained with oil and grease. He offered you a sorrowful smile as he gestured for you to sit. “Thanks.” you squeaked, checking your wristwatch for the time. 

Daniel walked back over towards the car, peering in as Jake inspected the damage. You watched his back muscles flex as he placed his hands on the open hood, his white t-shirt pulling tightly against his back. You could see the shadow of a dark image through the white cotton of his shirt, a large tattoo must be under there and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was. It was almost as if he could feel your eyes on him as he turned around to meet your gaze as he continued talking to Jake. Jake turned around too, catching your sight and you knew that the news they were about to deliver was probably not what you wanted to hear. 

Jake unhooked the work light, and closed the hood, stepping down off the ladder and wiping his hands on his coveralls. He used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow as he looked over towards you again. They both began walking over towards you, stopping short as they reached you. You stood to meet them, watching as Jake shoved his hands in his pockets.

He was the first to speak, “I can fix it, but I will have to order the parts. Don’t see too many of these come ‘round here.”

“Oh, so it’s an easy fix? Good, maybe I won’t be here too long.” you said cheerfully.

“No. I didn’t say that.” he bites back. “I said, I can fix it.”

You furrow your brow at his harshness and turn to Daniel. 

He rolls his eyes and looks at you, “What he is trying to say is that you need some major work done. We don’t have the parts we need– he needs, to be able to do it, so he will have to order them. Only problem is that the delivery truck only runs on the 15th of the month.”

You look down at your watch seeing the tiny ‘2’ in the window. “And today is the second…”

“Right.” he says, kicking his shoe against the floor. 

“I can call and order the parts tomorrow when the supplier opens, can give you a proper estimate then, but I’m gonna warn you that this ain’t no cheap fix.” Jake says, flicking his eyes up to yours. There is a smudge of grease on his cheek that catches the light. Your eyes travel down his face seeing a scattering of tattoos that decorate the side of his neck, disappearing down into the zipped coveralls. 

“I have the money.” you sigh, fiddling with the strings on your purse. 

Jake nods his head, “Right, well, see you tomorrow.” he says, turning to head towards a set of stairs at the side of the garage. 

“Jake. The fuck…” Daniel shouts, causing Jake to stop and turn around. 

“What.” he answers, slowly walking back towards you. 

“What do you mean, what? You’re gonna have to drive her down to Wanda’s.” he says, “I can’t take her on the bike.”

“No.” he says, far too quickly.

“Jake, what else is she supposed to do?” he says, throwing his hands into the air. 

“Dunno. Figure it out I guess.” he scoffs, trying to retreat again, before Daniel grabs his arm. 

“It’s Wanda’s or here. Make your choice.” Daniel growls.

“Why do you care?” Jake barks back.

“How about you quit being a prick for a minute? You’re going to take this nice, paying customer down to the Motel, so that tomorrow she can come back and pay for those parts, and you can fix her car, hm?” he seethes into his ear. 

Jake rips his arm from his grip, and walks over to the dirty, stained wall, snatching a set of keys from a hook. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You scurry over to your car, attempting to grab the few things you’ll need for a few nights stay at a motel, before quickly jumping down and looking around for Jake. You hear an engine roar to life outside the shop, seeing Danny pointing towards an old, Green Ford truck. His headlights flash on, practically blinding you as you start to walk towards them, turning to thank Daniel for his kindness as you run off towards your ride. 

—

The ride to the motel was silent for the most part, the sound of the static coming across the radio the only noise filling the cab of the truck. You sat shotgun while Jake rested his wrist on the steering wheel of the old Ford, the sullied fingertips of his opposite hand rubbing across his unkempt mustache as he slowly made his way back through town. 

“You can ask me.” He finally spoke, his eyes dashing quickly back and forth from the rear view mirror and the road. 

You cleared your throat, suddenly surprised he spoke. “Ask you what?”

“Where you know me from. I can tell you wanna ask.” He answered, his voice only a tiny bit louder than the rumbling engine. 

Damn, he was right. He did look familiar to you, and so did Daniel. But your mind was so frenzied with the anticipation of finding out what was wrong with your car, and then the news that the damage was far worse than you thought, that you pushed the thought far from your mind. 

“I mean, you do kind of seem…”

“…familiar? Yeah. I remember you.” He mumbled, his eyes still never traveling your way. “You went to St. James Elementary, right?”

“Yes…”

“So did we. Probably why you recognize us.” Jake turned the wheel a hard right, forgoing a blinker as he flicked his eyes to the rear view again. 

Ah, that makes sense. You had started the first grade here many years ago, and made it to the third before your parents ripped you away and set off toward Iowa. But the more you thought about it, the more you remembered them. Both of them. But that was over twenty years ago, how the hell did he remember you now?

“Shit, that’s right.” You glanced to the floor, trying like hell to stretch your mind back to the tiny hallways lined with lockers, and the playground out back where many of your earliest memories were made. “I remember now, you were what, a year older than me?”

“Yeah. Danny’s a few years behind me.” Jake reached in his front pocket and pulled out his half-empty pack of Lucky Strikes, patting the box on the heel of his hand before he pushed the lighter into the dash, waiting for it to heat. 

“So wait, you were the one that climbed to the top of that old Sycamore that day at recess…couldn’t get back down when the bell rang so you jumped down and broke your arm…” your memory probably didn’t serve you all the way right, but you couldn’t have made up the tall-tale. 

The lighter finally popped free, and Jake raised his left knee to steer the truck while he grabbed the handle, shielding the wind to light the butt of his cigarette. You watched as he inhaled, then cranked the window the rest of the way down to let the smoke filter through. 

“I didn’t climb all the way up. Just halfway. And I didn’t jump, I fell.” He tapped his cigarette in the tray of the dash, not caring one bit that the residual ashes fell into the floorboard. You watched them flutter down before fizzling out completely.

You laughed at the memory, finding it hard to believe that you’d found yourself here again, remembering things about your childhood that you hadn’t even come close to thinking about in years. 

“It wasn’t funny.” Jake said stoically, puffing the cigarette again. 

“Sorry. No, it wasn’t. But, I remember being glad you didn’t get hurt worse than you did.” You replied, hoping to warm up his ice-cold composure. 

“This is you.” He mumbled as he pulled into the lot of the old motel, the truck lurching forward as he put it into park. You popped the door open and slid out of the old bench seat, slamming the door behind you as you rounded the side of the truck to grab your suitcase from the bed. Jake didn’t get out of the truck or offer to help you with your bags, but after his less-than-happy attempt at making cordial conversation, you didn’t expect anything less. 

You perked back up to the open passenger window, seeing that Jake’s eyes were still darting from side to side out the windows. Why was he so paranoid? 

“Thank you for the ride, I really appreciate it. You’ll let me know when the parts get ordered, and I can give you the cash?” You asked, really not knowing any other way to go about this. 

He nodded his head, biting his cheeks in. 

“Okay, let me go check in, and I’ll come back and tell you my room number so you can phone me.” You said, walking toward the check-in office. 

“I’ll just call and ask for your room.” He muttered, throwing the gear shift into reverse. 

“But, you never even asked me my–”

“I remember your name, Y/N.” He spat, spinning his head around to check his surroundings before he whipped the truck from the parking spot, kicking up dust as he flew back down the road. 

——

Upon entering the check-in office, your eyes had to do little to adjust, as there were barely any lights on at all. The stench of the room itself was like must and rotting wood, with just a hint of Borax and lemon-scented cleaner. You glanced to the large counter that spanned the room, leaving your suitcase behind while you approached it. After a minute or two of waiting, you let your palm gently tap on the bell that sat on the desk, ‘Ring for Service’ written on an old note underneath it. 

“Hi, hello. Could I get a single room for the next week, please?” You asked the gruff woman that finally limped her way from the back room. 

“HUH?” She all but yelled, squinting her eyes as she held her hand up to her ear. She must be hard of hearing. 

You cleared your throat to speak a bit louder. “I’d like a room for the next seven nights, please.” You spoke loudly, mouthing the words clearly as you watched her read your lips. 

“Only room I got’s a double efficiency.” She barked, grabbing a pen as she lifted the glasses that hung from a chain around her neck to rest on her nose. You snarled your nose up in confusion, remembering that you only saw another one or two cars in the lot. 

“I don’t need something that large, it’s just me, if you want to put me in something smalle–”

“Double efficiency.” She said, writing down some number into her oversized ledger book. “It’s $35 a night. I take cash upfront for the whole stay. Fresh linens every other day.”

“Thirty-five a night? Ma’am, isn’t that a bit high?” Your voice was raised on its own now, out of pure surprise at the price. 

“Either that or you ride down to the new Ramada an hour and a half South, and seein’ as how Jake brought you here, it’s lookin’ like the double efficiency for yeh.” 

You seethed as she scribbled the math into her book, her jaws gnawing together as she chewed on nothing. “Two forty-five rate plus sixty-seven tax gives us…” she tapped away loudly at her printing calculator. “Three hundred twelve for the week.”

You felt like throwing up. That took a good chunk from the cash you brought along, but thankfully didn’t drain you completely. Luckily, the money you’d saved up for the wedding was well above what you’d need to survive on, so it didn’t hurt too badly as you begrudgingly counted out the bills from your wallet. 

“Write your name and date here, signature here.” She pointed in her book for you to sign next to room number 7. She smiled a large grin as you laid out the bills for her, her mouth showing no more than a few teeth. As she gave you her best fake smile, you noticed her right eye was almost completely glossed over with a blue sheen. “Need a receipt?”

“No, thank you.” You chirped, wanting to get the hell away from this eerie woman and into your double efficiency as quickly as possible. 

“I’ll bring fresh linens day after. No guests. Here’s your key, don’t lose it, I only got the one. Shower takes a good five minutes to heat, and don’t be smokin’ none of that grass in the room. Stinks up the place.” She said at a high volume while she wagged her finger toward your face. 

You raised your eyebrows at the irony of the smell of the place, nodding her way as you grabbed the key from the countertop. She turned away, taking your wad of cash with her back to the room she came from. “Name’s Wanda if you need anything.”

It was getting to be dark outside now, the dull streetlights barely illuminating the sidewalk enough for you to see the room numbers on the front of the doors as you passed. 

“Five…six…seven.” You whispered to yourself as you dropped the heavy suitcase beside you to fish the key from your pocket. As you slid the key into the slot and twisted the old knob, you were immediately met with the same stench as you were in the lobby. Old and grimey. 

You brought your bag inside and quickly turned to lock the door behind you, sliding the hanging chain into place. You inspected the room, seeing the two beds with old brown comforters laid across them, a nightstand in between, and a single TV on the chest of drawers in the corner. It’ll do. The bathroom wasn’t much better, and it looked as though the calcium and lime deposits on the shower head could kill a man. 

You sighed a deep sigh as you listened to your stomach rumble, your decision to forgo a late lunch at the diner earlier now seeming like a bad idea. The apple you had stashed away in your bag would have to suffice. 

After unpacking a little bit of your clothing from your suitcase and hanging a few things in the closet, you decided to turn on the television and tuck in early for the night. You twisted the knob, watching as the light on the screen came to life, the high-pitched squeal of the staticy screen making your skin crawl. You adjusted the antenna, trying your best to get a better picture of what looked to be the evening news, but it was no use. But, some sound was better than no sound. 

You slipped your top and jeans off and folded them neatly over the bed, planning on wearing them again tomorrow to save on any kind of laundry you’d end up needing to do. An old t-shirt from an old high-school boyfriend would have to be your choice of pajamas for the night. You flicked off the light, and climbed into the starchy sheets, the pillow feeling rock hard under your head. You shook your head as you looked at the ceiling, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this mess. 

This was supposed to be an adventure. A period of regrowth. A time to just live, find yourself again. Maybe join up with a new tribe of people, try new things, see where the wind would blow you…

But no. You’re here in your old hometown in a sticky motel, with a broken-down car, and no dinner. On the first day of your escape. You crossed your arms across your chest, allowing yourself a second to pout. For a split second, you contemplated going back to Iowa, back to your mother’s, back to the comforts of home, but you’d never return to Peter. Not in a million years, the scumbag. 

You twisted up your nose as your legs rubbed across the hard mattress and scratchy sheets, wondering who the hell the last people to sleep here were, or worse, if Wanda had actually even washed them when they left. 

—

The sound of three quick knocks on your door awoke you from what must have been a light sleep, the noise making your heart immediately pound. You hopped up, snaking across the floor quietly and peeking out of the peephole. You half expected to see a murderer standing at the door, but then, why would they have knocked? 

Must be Wanda. 

No, she doesn’t care about anyone but herself, apparently. 

You squinted your eye to see a ruffle of dark curls in the pale light, standing and swaying back and forth while he waited for you to open the door. 

“Daniel?” You whispered, pulling the door open wide enough that the chain lock pulled taut. “What are you doing?” You pulled the chain free, opening the door all the way. 

His eyes popped out of his head as he took in a quick breath, the look on his face completely surprised, and a little embarrassed. 

“Hey, um…I’m sorry, I…” he muttered, pulling his arm behind his head. 

“No, it’s fine, you just surprised me, that’s all. Is everything…” you pause, noticing he wasn’t shying away from his awkward stance. You suddenly felt the breeze blow across your almost completely uncovered lower-half. 

“Shit!” You yelped, pulling your t-shirt down as far as it would go over your legs. You bounced back into the room, pulling the comforter from the bed to cover yourself. “I’m sorry, I completely didn’t even…”

“No no, I’m sorry.” Danny admitted from the open doorway. “I just came to…”

You wrapped the linen around yourself, a complete cocoon now as you waddled like a mummy back over to him with a shy smile on your face. 

He laughed, his bright white teeth a contrast to the dark complexion of his skin. You felt the pit of your stomach fall at the sight. 

“I just came to see if you wanted to grab a late dinner with me, seeing as how you can’t drive to get anything, and there’s no such thing as room service in a place like this.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, no, Daniel, that’s awful sweet of you to offer. But, I had an apple, so I’m…all set…” you admitted, the pit of hunger in your stomach getting bigger as the minutes ticked on. 

He furrowed his brow. “You can…call me Danny, if you want. We aren’t complete strangers.”

You felt your eyes sparkle at him. Stop it, Y/N. 

You swallowed. “Okay, Danny…”

“An apple? That’s all you’ve had all day?”

“Yeah. And well, a few sips of coffee earlier…” you admitted, waving him off. “Truly, I’m just fine.”

He stood and stared at you a few seconds longer, his eyes slipping past you and into the empty room behind you. The light of the static-snowed screen reflected off his features, accentuating his face, his jawline, his lips…the tattoos that crawled up his neck…

“Okay, well. I’ll see you around then?” He stated more than asked, before turning on his heels and disappearing down the sidewalk. 

Shit. You were starving. And bored. And not sleepy anymore. And, after letting your eyes wander a little too long on him…you felt…

“Danny!” You called back, seeing him turn with anticipation. “Let me put some pants on?”

He grinned again, and began making his way back toward your door as you popped back inside to re-dress yourself. You quickly pulled your jeans and halter on, and took a second to fluff your hair without him seeing. You grabbed a light jacket and pulled it over your arms, and made sure to slip your room key into your purse before throwing it over your shoulder. 

You stepped back outside the door, catching Danny leaning against the wall smoking. “That was quick.” He said, blowing smoke into the air. You noticed it smelled different than what Jake smoked, it was sweeter and not as rancid. 

“Did you walk here?” You asked him as you locked the door, noticing that there were no new vehicles in the parking lot. 

“Hell no.” He chuckled. “I brought Ruby.”

“Who?”

As you rounded the edge of the building, you saw what he was referring to. An early model motorcycle, a little rusted and definitely dirty, but you could see the red paint peeking out from underneath the dust. 

You watched as he lifted his leg and straddled the seat, pulling his weight over to kick the stand up. He turned the key and revved the engine, walking it forward just a bit as you watched. He motioned with his head for you to hop on, of which you quickly denied. 

“No no, I’ll walk, it’s fine.” You muttered, the engine drowning out the sound of your voice. You backed away, crossing your arms nervously. No way you were going to hop on the back of a motorcycle with a man you hardly knew. In the dark in a strange town, much less. 

“Ah come on, it’ll take you twenty minutes to walk there.” He yelled over the purring, again tilting his head back for you to climb in behind him. He slowly pulled the tie from his hair, letting his elbow-length waves fall before re-gathering it, and twisting at his neck again. He gave you another side smile, raising his eyebrows as he playfully revved the engine again. 

Fuck it. 

You bashfully stepped forward, hiking your leg up over the seat to fit right in behind him, the seat forcing you to press against his back a little more closely than you were comfortable with. And to make things even more awkward, you weren’t sure what to do with your hands. You let them drop to your thighs as he walked the bike forward a little again, turning it before he caught pavement and took off down the road without warning. 

You squealed loudly, your unfamiliarity with riding on the back of a motorcycle startling you completely. Without hesitation and in fear of falling off, your hands wrapped around Danny’s torso, and your feet fell in behind his on the racks. 

“Oh shit!” You yelled as he took off down the road, your arms gripping him tighter as you tried to get your balance. You were positive if you let go for even the tiniest second, you were going to eat rocks. 

“You alright back there?” He asked, turning his head slightly. 

“No, not really! I feel like I’m gonna fall!” You admitted, the wind whipping your hair in all directions. 

“You won’t fall, I won’t let you.” His left hand came down to grasp your fists gathered across his chest, and slowly pushed them downward toward his stomach, instantly making you feel leveled out, and a ton more balanced. He patted your hands there, telling you to leave them. 

Then his hand found your thigh, running his hand along the outside seam of your jeans from your knee to right below your asscheek. What the fuck? Before you could slap the hell out of him, he gripped up under your leg, jerking your forward on the seat to press your chest hard against his back. 

Instantly more centered. 

“Is that better? Still feel like you’re gonna fall?” He asked through the wind. 

You gulped, the rush of the past 13 seconds making your head spin. But he was right, you no longer felt like you were going to topple over. 

“No, yes…it’s better…” you choked out as he began to pick up speed. 

“Good. Hang on.” He ordered, speeding up significantly as you barreled down the dusty pavement. And hang on you did. The wind across your face was literally taking your breath away, and making your eyes water. You blinked away the tears as you focused, truly getting your bearings and relaxing your body against Danny’s to get a feel for the bike beneath you. You took a breath and let your body fall into his back a bit more, the motions of his flexing back muscles pressed up against you as he lifted his foot to switch gears. 

What the hell are you doing? What is happening?

After a whirlwind two or three minutes, you were slowing down and pulling into the parking lot of Louie’s, the same diner you had stopped into earlier for directions. Danny slowed the bike to a crawl and walked it forward before lowering the kickstand. You instinctively pulled your feet to the ground too, only the tips of your toes reaching the dirt below them. 

“Don’t tell me that was your first motorcycle ride…” he said as he leaned his body weight to one side, standing all the way up on solid ground. You followed his action, letting your shaky legs hop off the bike with the help of Danny’s strong hand. 

“Yeah, uh. It was.” You tried to sound nonchalant, like it was no big deal, while on the inside, your body was screaming with nervous adrenaline. You patted your hands over your hair to calm your flyaways, trying your best to keep your cool girl composure. 

“No shit? Well, if I’d have known that I wouldn’t have taken off so quick. You felt like a natural once you got your balance…” he flitted his eyes your way as you began to make your way to the door. 

You gave him a shy smile back. “Are they um. Are they still open? It’s getting late…” you glanced at your watch, finding it to be 9:20pm. 

Danny swung the glass door open, frowning as you walked inside before him. “Oh, yeah. They’re open ‘til midnight. And it’s pork chop night, I never miss pork chop night.”

You walked inside the now neon-lit diner, finding many of the same shady-looking characters as you had seen earlier in the day. You nodded toward the man who gave you the directions to Jake’s, of which he returned with a curt smile. 

“Bubba!” Danny exclaimed, forcefully throwing two hands to the back of the man’s shoulders, startling him from his coffee. “Save any pork chops for me?”

“They’s a few back there, I’m sure. Ain’t too many people in today.” He answered, turning back to his coffee. “Geraldine! Danny’s here for his special!” The man yelled across the bar, moving sideways to see if he could see in through the opening in the wall to the kitchen. 

Just then the same woman in the pink apron waltzed through the double-swinging saloon doors, putting on a giant smile as soon as she saw you and Danny. She made her way around the bar, taking Danny’s face between her hands and squeezing his cheeks. “Evenin’, honey.” Her gruff voice said as she swatted his face. 

“Evenin’, Geraldine.” He answered, obviously this was a woman he respected. She turned and found her place again behind the bar, reaching into her apron pocket for her pen and order pad. You and Danny walked to a booth in the middle of the restaurant, and you moved to sit down before he stopped you. 

“Hmm-mm, let me sit there. Wanna see the door.” He said, grabbing your shoulders to scoot you sideways to the opposite booth. 

“Okay…what for?” You questioned. 

“I recognize this one from earlier today, hardly touched her coffee. You make it to Ace’s, honey?” Geraldine interrupted without making eye contact with you as she scribbled something down on her order pad. 

Danny cleared his throat and looked to you, raising his eyebrows. 

“Oh! Me! Yes ma’am, I barely made it, but uh. Got it there before it could die on me. They’re going to fix it right up.” You answered, feeling silly for having to practically yell your business across the diner to answer her. You watched the man you now knew as Bubba turn in his stool, holding the same flat smile as he did when you first came inside. 

“The normal, Danny?” Geraldine asked. 

“Yes please, thanks.” He replied, poking his wrapped silverware onto the tabletop. 

“And for the lady?” She went on. 

You looked down to see no menu in front of you, so you decided to go with your gut. “Um, I’ll have what he’s having?” Your tone was questioning. 

Geraldine smiled. “Pork chop in gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots, and peas, sweetie.”

“Oh, perfect. All but the peas, please.” You replied, watching as Geraldine nodded and made her way back into the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you like peas? They’re good for you.” Danny said, stretching his arm across the back of the booth behind him. You swallowed hard, recalling the memory of the peas rolling across the floor of Peter’s office. The smell of them smashed against your shoes, still fresh in your mind, and easily makes your stomach turn just from the thought. 

“Never been a fan.” You answered, resting your chin in your hand. 

Danny pursed his lips together, leaning in now across the table toward you. You watched as a tiny strand of hair fell in front of his eye, his tongue stuck to the back of his teeth as he inhaled. “I would’ve eaten your peas, Y/N. Tsk tsk.” 

You looked at him in amused confusion, unsure of what his angle really was. After being around him only a grand total of maybe an hour the entire day, you gathered that you could hardly tell if he was joking or serious at any given time. But his overall demeanor was kind, and playful, and he had invited you here tonight, so you intended on learning him better. 

Just while you were here, of course. 

Suddenly two steaming black coffees were placed in front of you, the aroma bringing your senses back to life again. “Cream, sweetie?” Geraldine asked, placing a tiny metal pitcher full of the milky liquid in front of you and turning away before you could answer. 

You poured the cream in, stirring it together until it was mixed, and you blew on it before you took a slow sip, Danny watching your every move intently. 

“Something I can help you with?” You asked him, commenting on his unwelcome stare. 

He snarled his top lip as he shook his head and readjusted in his seat. You took a second to look at him, hoping to maybe intimidate him right back. His dark waves still balled up at his neck, the loose strands falling as curls in front of his face and behind his ears. His tightened jaw and cocked eyebrow letting you know he was still sizing you up. His old black Ford Motors t-shirt stretched tightly across his buff chest and arms, the worn holes around the collar letting you know it was well-loved and worn-in. 

“So. Elementary school. You were there…” he finally spoke up, lighting another sweet-smelling smoke. 

“St. James, yeah. I think you were a couple of years behind me.” You answered, sipping your coffee. 

“Mhmm.” He hummed, taking a puff. “You left in the middle of the year.” 

“How do you remember that?” You asked, realizing he would have only been in the first grade when you left. 

“Because suddenly we didn’t have enough people to have even teams for kickball. You left and we were a man short. Had to ask Willie Addams to play and he couldn’t run for shit. Had the coordination of a fuckin’ baby giraffe.” 

You giggled at him, almost spitting out your coffee. “Ok, how do you remember that?” You pressed. “You were like 6.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Jake says I have the memory of an elephant, whatever the fuck that means. Anyway, enough talk about zoo animals. Where were you really headed, Y/N? Before you got stuck here with us…” He leaned again, and you noticed his eyes began anxiously darting around, just like Jake’s had done earlier. 

You purposely waited for him to make eye contact with you again, finding it rude that he was looking everywhere but at your face after asking you a question. When he finally did, you answered. 

“I was heading to Atlanta. From Salvation, Iowa.” You replied honestly. “Why?”

“People don’t normally just casually cruise back through their hometown unless they’re looking for something.” He said dryly, taking a sip of his coffee. The white ceramic mug looked tiny in his giant inked hand. 

“Well I’m not people. I wasn’t looking for anything, I just—”

“So you were running.” He raised his eyebrows again, knowing he had struck some type of gold from the obviously surprised look on your face. 

You stayed silent for a beat. He laughed through his nose. 

“I wasn’t running, I was…just, getting away. It’s different.” You tried to dismiss his prying questions, wanting nothing more than for Geraldine to bring you a heaping pile of mashed potatoes so you wouldn’t have to go on about your wasted adventure with a man you hardly knew from Adam. 

“But you left home for a reason, right?” He went on. “If people plan to move, they usually bring along more than a couple suitcases and their old wedding dress, Y/N. You’re telling me you left your makeup vanity and trunk and sofa at home?” 

Fuck. You didn’t wanna talk about this. 

When you stayed silent again, he laughed in satisfaction. “You were running.”

You leaned in close. “Look, if you want to know every detail of my life, you’re gonna have to do a little more than invite me to dinner, Daniel.” You spat. 

“What if I already planned to do a little more?” He inferred, sitting back against the booth and running his hand along his slicked-back hair. 

You choked back. “That’s an awfully forward thing to say to someone you just met.”

“I didn’t just meet you. I knew you in the first grade. And I know I was upset when you weren’t there to play kickball any more.” His eyes began scanning the windows again, jumping back and forth as he spoke. Your heart began racing at his words. 

“Why do you care, Danny? About what I’m doing here?” You asked, truly wanting to know. 

He shrugged, taking another draw of his smoke. “You seem like a fun little challenge. I like challenges. Mysteries. Cracking codes…”

You scoffed. “Well, you sure as hell ain’t cracking anything of mine.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that one.” The side of his lips curled up as you caught onto his flirtation.  Danny let his smoke hang between his lips as he rubbed his hands together, his fingernails still dirty from the workday. 

You were simultaneously turned off and turned on by his strange way of coming on to you; you knew that was what he was doing, but in some odd way, it was charming. You felt safe with him, even if his way of flirting was nothing like anything you’d ever seen before. 

In the nick of time, Geraldine brought your plates over, setting them in front of you with harsh thuds. “Alright one sans peas, one extra peas. Refill of coffee, and I’ll be back in a bit to check on ya.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Danny muttered. 

You held his deep gaze as you unrolled your silverware from the tight napkin, and dug directly in to the mashed potatoes without hesitation. He licked his tongue across his teeth as he followed your motions. The two of you ate in silence, and you let yourself enjoy the hot meal in front of you, wondering if Danny would let you forgo the motorcycle ride, and just walk home. 

After a basically wordless and slightly awkward meal, Danny sat and watched as you finished off your coffee, still pushing a pea around the plate with the end of his fork. 

“Good pork chops, right?” He finally asked. 

“Might be the best ones I’ve ever had.” You replied honestly. But you had been so hungry, you might’ve thought shoe leather sounded appetizing had you waited any longer. That apple was long gone. 

“I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” He growled, another sly smile creeping to his face. He stretched his neck, the thin lines of the spider web tattoo bulging over his artery. “What are your plans for the night?”  

You placed your napkin and silverware on top of the empty plate, pushing it back a bit to fold your arms across the table. “Sleep.” 

“Well that doesn’t sound like any fun.” He laughed, and if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he really didn’t believe you. 

“What? That’s really all I’m doing…what else would I do?” You asked sternly. “I don’t know anyone, I don’t have a car, this podunk town doesn’t have much to offer, Danny.”

He sighed as he put his elbows on the table, the sleeves of the tight shirt pulling against his biceps. You took a second to glance at his arms, tanned and bronze from the sun. The black-lined and barely-colored tattoos that covered his arms instantly piqued your interest, but you couldn’t let him know you were looking. In your three-second glance, you noticed the set of dice on the inside of his wrist, some type of messy writing along the inside of his forearm, and a tiger’s face peeking out from under the short sleeve of his shirt. And that was only the few your mind comprehended. 

“You’re right. Ain’t much here. But it can be a good time if you know what you’re looking for.” He raised his eyebrow in question. 

You shook your head. “Not me, thanks. I’d rather not have my face hanging on missing posters around town next week.”

“Why would you say that?” He was taken back. 

“Because you haven’t stopped darting your eyes to the door and out the windows since we got here. Your body language is forcibly relaxed, you’re a little on edge, and I think you’re kind of paranoid. I don’t know why, but you don’t seem like you feel safe in your own town, Danny.” 

He huffed an exasperated laugh. “Of course I feel safe here, why would I live here if I didn’t?” He said defensively. 

“How did you know what room I was in?” You asked, craning your neck sideways. “Jake left before I checked in today. Did you ask Wanda so you could keep tabs on me?”

You clicked your tongue as his eyes bulged from his head at your words. “That’s what I thought. Oh, and you have a switchblade knife stuffed in your boot.”

“How do you know that?” He muttered. 

“Saw it when your pants hiked up when you got off the motorcycle.” You pushed the plate a little further back on the table, and grabbed your purse to make your way to the cash register. You pulled a few crumpled dollars from your wallet and tossed them onto the table. You stood and came to the edge of the booth, leaning down close to Danny’s face to whisper. “If I didn’t know any better, it’d seem that you’re the one who’s running, Danny.”

You gave him a displeased look and turned, snaking your way through the empty tables to pay Geraldine for your suppers. “Thank you, sweetie. Y’all have a good rest of your evenin…” Geraldine said as the cash register dinged closed. You gave Bubba another nod before making your way to the door. You glanced back to Danny, who was still sitting stunned in the wooden booth. 

“You takin’ me back to the motel, or what?”

——

This time, finding your balance on the motorcycle was easy, like you’d been doing it for a hundred years. Danny hadn’t said a word since you left the diner, only offering Bubba and Geraldine a quiet “goodnight”. You pressed your front against Danny’s back, leaning into him as you wrapped your hands around his lower abdomen and sturdied your feet behind his. You let the shyness from earlier drift away, feeling more confident now that you’d spoken your piece to Danny. 

As he picked up speed down the busted pavement, you let your mind wander a bit. 

Ha, he thought he had you pegged. Thought you were another dumb female he could trick into his bed. Pshh. Asking you your plans for the night… please. Though going back to your room alone sounded less than exciting now that your stomach was full. And you were more awake than ever…and he had kind of offered…

No. No way. You didn’t know Danny. 

‘It can be a good time if you know what you’re looking for…’

No. Horrible idea. Sleep. 

Shower, and sleep. 

Just as you made your mind up, you felt Danny’s hand run along the outside of your leg again. What is he doing? He wasn’t cautious, he was confident. Like the motion was the most natural thing he’d ever done. You could feel the heat from his hand radiating through the denim of your jeans, and though his touch was unwelcome, you let it happen. Why were you letting it happen?

He didn’t need to pull you forward into him like he had earlier, you were already pressed against him as far as you could get. You watched as his shoulder flexed as his arm reached back and down to your leg, his fingers gliding lightly over your thigh while he steered with his other hand. Shit, the heat of his touch…

You let your chest press into him just a little closer, and the contact made your nipples instantly stand at attention. Your choice to not wear a bra tonight was silently working against you. But damn, you couldn’t deny…this man was attractive. Very attractive. And you already couldn’t deny the physical chemistry between you, his hand so nonchalantly petting your thigh while his other gripped the handlebar. 

You felt him take a deep breath, his grip tightening on your leg muscle. You realized your other hand had been resting gently on his stomach, holding on tightly as he navigated the bumpy streets. In an act of pure confidence, you let your thumb drift a few inches down, and loop into the hem of his jeans, your other fingers gripping onto his leather belt. With your motion, his hand tightened again, his thumb swiping back and forth as he let his hand drift further back. 

Your mind was frenzied, suddenly your stomach felt tightly wound with an unknown and unwarranted anticipation. Danny removed his hand from your thigh, and kicked his right foot a couple times to shift the bike down. He gripped the bars and turned, and suddenly you were in front of your motel room door. Damn, you hadn’t even noticed you were here already. 

He pulled the kickstand down as he shut off the bike, and you quickly pulled your hand from the way-too-intimate place near his groin. He stood and stepped off the bike, and you followed behind. You cleared your throat as you resituated your purse on your shoulder, suddenly feeling exposed. You pulled your jacket over your chest, and reached into your bag to find the room key. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You purred. 

“Thanks for dinner, I was supposed to pay, you know. I invited you out…”

“No, no. It’s my pleasure, seeing as how you thought of me, and all.” You answered, making your way to unlock the old doorknob. You felt Danny follow behind, walking you to the door. He had shoved his hands in his pockets, and his closed-off demeanor returned, quite the opposite of the confidence he dripped on the bike. 

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking on the light inside. Danny stood in the threshold as you dispensed your purse on the table. 

“You were right. I did ask Wanda what room you were in. And before you get freaked out, it wasn’t because I was trying to keep tabs on you. Not in the way you’re thinking, at least.” He said, glancing side to side down either way of the sidewalk before he stepped inside the room just a little. “Y/N, look. You’re right. This town can be dangerous. It ain’t a five-star city. There is a lot that goes on behind closed doors here. So yes, I wanted to know where you were because—”

“You want to keep an eye on me. I get it. I owe you and Jake money, still.” You quipped, unsure of how to feel about that. 

He nodded slowly, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe as he crossed his flexed arms. “Well, yes, but…It’s more for your well-being, Y/N. That’s all. There are some…shady creatures here.” He mumbled, stepping a little further inside. 

You slowly sat down on the bed, feeling the stiff mattress squeak beneath you. His steps were heavy as he came further inside, slowly, his eye contact making you feel like you were going to forget how to breathe. You leaned back on your arms, the gritty brown comforter rough under your fingertips. “Are you one of those…shady creatures?” You asked, barely above a whisper as you found him standing almost directly between your legs. 

He lifted his almost completely-inked hand and pushed away a tiny strand of hair that had fallen across your forehead, brushing it back to join the rest of your hair. Your heart rate picked up at his subtle touch, his calloused and dirty fingertips just barely grazing the side of your face. “Guess it depends on who you ask…” his words were slow, his bottom lip biting slowly into his mouth as he spoke. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you instantly felt the same chemistry as earlier begin to ravage your body again. He was towering over you so close, your legs pressed apart by the outsides of his. His knees touched the edge of the bed, and you could tell his hands were arguing with his brain about touching you again. Somewhere. Anywhere. 

He pushed your hair back again, drifting his hand down your cheek and finally to your chin, his thumb and pointer working as a team to slowly crane your neck up to look him in the eyes. Your hands were begging you to rake your nails up underneath his tight t-shirt, just to get a feel of what was beneath it. But you didn’t. 

“You’re different, aren’t you, Y/N?” He finally whispered. 

“Mmm, what do you mean?” 

He furrowed his brow as he lightly squeezed your chin between his fingers, his eyes studying every detail of your face. 

“I dunno…you just have something about you. Can’t quite put my finger on it yet.” He bit his lip again. You felt a ragged breath escape your lungs, and you hoped to god your body language wasn’t reflecting how you felt right now. 

“But, I intend on figuring you out.” His thumb drifted up a bit, barely ghosting over your bottom lip. It took everything in you to not pull it into your mouth, reach your tongue out and taste him, but you stopped yourself. Can’t go there tonight, as much as you really wanted to. 

Against every coherent thought, your knees pressed in toward each other, searching for some type of relief, causing Danny’s body to move in a bit closer to you. A low laugh left his chest as he continued to brush his thumb over your lip, pressing a little harder when you made him fall into you. “A fuckin’ gem, aren’t you?” 

You swallowed, unsure how to answer. Or how to think, for that matter. This gorgeous man standing between your legs in your hotel room, you barely know him at all…but already you felt like you could grip the soft cotton of his t-shirt and yank him down into the bed beside you, and have your way with him until the sun came up. Because, what do you have to lose?

“Will have a ride for you tomorrow. Get some sleep.” He muttered, his eyelids hooded over his deep brown eyes as he peered down to you. You watched his Adams apple jerk as he swallowed, regaining the same composure you were begging yourself to find. He stepped back and turned to exit through the still-open door. “Lock this behind me.”

And before you could gather even the simplest thought, he was gone. 

—

You stood naked in front of the scratched and lopsided hanging mirror in the bathroom, waiting the long five minutes for the shower to heat, just as Wanda had said. Your skin was still flushed from the close intensity from Danny just a few short minutes ago, and your heart rate was just now slowing from the interaction. 

Shit. You aren’t supposed to feel these things…you just left Peter. You were on the search to enrich your life, go wild, not add drama and danger to it…

But, you had set out in search of an adventure, could this be it? Could this strange, gritty, already confusing mechanic be your ticket to letting loose? You’d never had those young years to explore yourself and sow your oats; Peter was one of your very first serious boyfriends ever, and one of only a handful of partners you’d had before that. Half of your mind was terrified from Danny’s words of warning, and the other half of you said fuck it, chase it. Why not? What do you honestly have to lose at this point? 

You stepped into the now steaming shower and began to suds up the plain white bar of soap that was wrapped up on the countertop. You let the hot streams of water calm your muscles and your nerves as you ran over the events of your crazy day. 

‘Will have a ride for you tomorrow…’ 

What did that mean? You chalked it up to he would probably be picking you up again in the morning to go back to the garage to give a down payment, or something. Either way, you’d wake up to a new day, and you were already hoping it’d be just as eventful as today. 

——

The growling sound of an engine outside the motel startled you from your daydream as you watched the picture on the television blur and scatter back and forth. A glance at your watch told you it was 10am exactly, and you walked to the peephole to see who had pulled up. 

It wasn’t the person you expected to see. You unlocked the door and swung it open, the still misty morning air chilling your face. 

“Jake, morning. What are you—”

“You ready to sign your quote? I’m ordering the parts today.” He interrupted as he slammed his truck door shut. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me grab my bag.” You stepped back inside, slightly confused; you fully expected to see Danny pull up on his motorcycle to whisk you away again. 

You stepped outside and locked the door behind you, and you and Jake both hopped up into the truck. Jake was silent again, and you were coming to realize he didn’t speak unless it was completely necessary, or unless spoken to. He was a man of few words, but you gathered that he probably wasn’t being outwardly rude, just was his nature to be quiet. You hoped, at least. 

He reached down and cranked his window, the air blowing his freshly-showered scent around in the cab of the truck. The scent of Brut after-shave tingled in your nose; you’d know that smell anywhere. It made you look his way, seeing that his skin was actually visible now that he wasn’t covered in grease and dirt. His hand gripped the tree, shifting it to third as his speed leveled out on the road. 

His hands were completely covered in tattoos just like Danny’s were, and they crawled up his wrist and forearm, all the way to his shoulder and into his neck. His cutoff t-shirt exposed his chest and side, also covered in a swirling piece of art that was laced with deep reds and blues. There were hundreds of them. And you were willing to bargain that each and every one had a story. 

His ever-present cigarette hung between his lips as he stayed focused on the road, his shoulder length locks whipping around in the wind. You hadn’t seen him like this yet…clean, natural, and normal. His demeanor was the same as it was yesterday, straightforward and no-nonsense. 

“That’s yours, if you want it.” He gestured between you on the bench seat, pointing to a large biscuit wrapped up in wax paper. “I couldn’t eat two.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you. Thanks.” You began to unwrap it and tear off little pieces, bringing them shyly to your mouth. “Didn't poison it, did you?” 

He huffed what you think was a laugh through his nose. “No. If you died I’d have to steal the part money from your purse, and I don’t want to do that.” Was that his attempt at a joke?

You giggled, again unsure how to take him. 

“Where’s Danny? I figured he’d be the one scooping me up after last night.” You asked, taking another bite of biscuit. 

His head shot your way, his eyes narrowed. “Last night?”

“Yeah, he picked me up on his bike, we got some food at Louie’s. Said he’d be back today.” Now that you thought about it, he never actually said he would be the one picking you up, just that there would be a ride for you here today. 

“Ah, so he took you on a date.” Jake muttered, his voice low again over the radio. 

“No, it wasn’t a date. He just invited me to eat with him. Knew I shouldn’t walk through town to get food by myself. He was being thoughtful.” You suddenly felt defensive of Danny. 

“Thoughtful. So, a date.” Jake responded, blowing smoke out the window before flicking the cigarette onto the road. 

“So what if it was?” You decided to play along. “What would it matter?” 

He shook his head with a mock laugh. “Danny is a nice guy, but he doesn’t take women on dates. That I can assure you.” 

You felt offended. “So, what, just a one night stand kind of guy?” 

Jake let a one-syllable laugh fall from his lips as he raised his eyebrows, shifting back down to make the tight turn up the hill to the shop. “Guess you could say that.” 

Why was he always so vague? 

Just as you were nearing the shop, Jake reached his arm across the bench seat and across your lap, leaning almost all the way onto you to crank the window all the way down. He rolled the handle quickly, his bicep muscle flexing hard right in front of your eyes. 

“Oh, sorry, I could have done that–” you sputtered. 

“It’s a son of a bitch to roll, requires a little bit of elbow grease.” He said before throwing the truck in park and shutting off the engine. “I’ve got your paperwork ready, all you have to do is sign for the total and put half down. Rest will be due when it’s fixed.”

He was halfway out of the truck and still talking, so you clambered your way out, too, to make sure you caught the tail end of what he was saying. The two of you walked into the shop, vehicles already pulled into the bay with the hoods popped. Loud music was coming from an old radio on a high shelf, an old Johnny Cash song bouncing off the walls. 

“Daniel, can you please turn that fucking shit down? Jesus Christ!” Jake yelled. 

You watched as Danny’s curls emerged out from underneath an old Cadillac, his feet pushing him out as he laid on a creeper. He gave you a quick tiny smile when you made upside-down eye contact. 

“When you open the shop on time and get in here when you’re fuckin’ supposed to, maybe I’ll consider your goddamn propositions, Jake. I mean shit, we live here.” He rolled all the way out and stood from the creeper, watching as Jake slowly ascended the old metal stairs on the side of the building. “I’ve been the only one here since fuckin’ 7:00. Why the fuck would I turn my music down if I’m the only one getting my fuckin’ hands dirty?” Danny spat. 

You looked up onto the lofted area of the shop, watching as Jake topped the steps and walked across, flipping Danny the bird from above before looking to you and switching his middle finger to his pointer, signaling for you to ‘come here’, and follow him up the stairs. 

You hopped into action, making your way to the staircase to follow Jake to the top. When you got up there, you looked around to find this was the office area. Tons and tons of old papers stacked away in messy piles, collecting dust and dirt. Boxes that held forgotten parts, shelves filled to the brim with old 3-ring binders, dusty photos on the wall, and in the center of it all, an old wooden desk with a chair that had seen better days. You watched as Jake pulled the string hanging from a single fluorescent light, plopping into the chair as the light buzzed to life. 

He pulled on a pair of thin wired readers, peering down to a ledger that looked similar to the one Wanda took your room reservation in. He was fingering through a parts manual and double checking his work on a calculator, so you took a second to look at a few of the black and white photos hanging framed on the wall. 

One, a larger photo, hung right in the middle of the rest. It was a man in a white tank top, dirty as can be, a pair of old slacks pulled up to his belly button. He was leaned with his back against an old black Chevelle, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He wasn’t smiling, just standing stoically with his arms crossed across his chest. He looked strikingly exactly like Jake, except the photo must have been taken when the man was a bit older than Jake is now. 

“Jake, this man looks just like you…is he—”

“Was. My father, yes.” He said, voice flat. 

“Handsome…” you muttered. “Was this his shop before it was yours?” 

He nodded, still looking to his ledger. “Yeah. Ace.”

You pulled your eyes from the photo, walking slowly back to the desk. “Ace…Ace’s garage. How long has he…been gone?” You wanted to put the words right back into your mouth as soon as they left it. It wasn’t any of your business. 

“He died the day before my eighteenth birthday. You wanna come sign here?” Jake said, extending a pen out for you. 

Damn, Jake. That’s heavy. 

You walked over to take a look at the estimate, seeing that the price was actually not as much as you thought it would be. “So half now, half when it’s done?” You reiterated, signing your name across the slip of paper. 

“Yep.” He responded shortly. 

You reached into your purse and pulled out the white envelope of your cash, counting it out in hundreds and fifties. As you slowly counted out loud, you took special care to run your fingers over the stiff new bills, making sure none stuck together. In the middle of them all was an old fifty dollar bill, a giant red “X” drawn across the President’s face. 

“Someone didn’t like Grant, I guess.” You laughed, trying to break the awkward silence as he watched you count. 

When you were finally finished, you gathered the bills up and handed them to Jake in a nice neat stack. “Thanks.” He said, taking the cash and stuffing it in a till box before shoving it in a safe. 

“Thank you. Hey, think I could use your restroom really quickly?” You asked, feeling like your bladder was about to burst with shitty motel room coffee. 

He threw his glasses down onto the table and pulled the light off, giving you a funny look before leading you back toward the stairs again. “Only bathroom here is mine and Danny’s, probably ain’t the cleanest.” He said as he quickly jumped down the steps. 

“It’s no problem.” You answered. How bad could it be?

He led you underneath the loft and through a door, into a dark hallway with multiple doors. “Last one on the left.” Jake hit the wall with his palm before walking back into the bay. 

This must be the part they live in. As you passed by the other doors, one was closed, and the other was cracked open to reveal what looked to be a messy bedroom. A mattress on the floor covered in disheveled blankets, liquor bottles on the makeshift nightstand, and clothes strewn about. 

When you finally reached the bathroom door, what you found inside was nothing short of disgusting. Although he had warned you…

One light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the sink full of hair and stained black from the grease off their hands, a completely black toothpaste tube that didn’t have a lid, flattened toothbrushes that were missing half of their bristles…

The list went on as you looked around in utter disgust. Men are so gross.  You were positive the place had never been cleaned. 

You swallowed and held your breath as you opened the broken toilet lid, finding it less-than-desirable with a ring in the bowl. You shuddered at what you were about to do, but if you didn’t pee right now you were going to have to resort to the woods out back. Would probably be cleaner out there, actually…but at least there is toilet paper. 

You tried not to think too hard about it as you quickly relieved yourself, using a small piece of toilet paper to touch the lever handle to flush. 

“Ew ew ew ew.” You mumbled, deciding to not even wash your hands at the risk of dirtying them further. But even if you had, your drying options were toilet paper or their stained to hell bath towels hanging over the rod.

You were entirely grossed out, and decided to get back out to the bay as soon as you could. You flicked the light switch and reentered the hallway, noticing that the closed door across the way was opening at the same time. 

To your surprise, a woman emerged from the room, slowly closing the door behind her. She had to be about ten years your senior, at least. 

“Hey, Sug.” She murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she turned to face you, you noticed what she was wearing. 

Danny’s black Ford Motors t-shirt he had on last night. 

Your stomach dropped, suddenly it hit you exactly why he wasn’t the one picking you up this morning. 

You gave her a tight smile and a simple “Good morning” as her keys jingled in her hand. Her makeup was definitely left over from last night, and she was carrying a pair of red high heels. 

“I haven’t seen you ‘round here before…” she said, her voice still raspy with sleep. 

“Oh, I’m…I’m a customer. They’re fixing my car. Just was…using the restroom.” You explained. 

“Oh honey, no one’s ever just a customer…” She winked, before leading the two of you back out into the bay. 

Whose room did she just come from?

—

JAKE POV

Fuck this god damn piece of shit Chevrolet. 

Two weeks you’ve been working on this fuckin’ truck, and in those two weeks you had gotten barely anything accomplished with rebuilding the motor. And now you had another to do on top of it.

Isn’t it supposed to be Fords that have engine trouble? American muscle my ass. They’re all shit. 

You stepped up onto the step ladder and peered back down into the belly of your newest arch-nemesis, cursing at its guts with every turn of your wrench. You look down to the floor spitting before turning your attention back under the hood.

Come on Ace. What is wrong with this son of a bitch? Help me out…

You glanced over to Danny, watching as he walked outside to empty his stomach again after the late night he’d had. Out all night drinking with his latest piece, stumbling back into the shop at 3am. Then he was back up at 7? You weren’t sure where he got his stamina…maybe he just didn’t sleep at all. 

As you compiled the list of parts you’d need for Y/N’s engine last night, Danny swung by your office to tell you he was leaving, only to peer over your shoulder and see her name at the top of the Quote sheet.

“She’s a fuckin’ smokeshow…” 

“Can you please try not to sleep with this one? She seems like a decent human being… You don’t have to sleep with all of them you know.” you’d joked. 

“Jesus, Jake. I’m not that bad of a person. Cut me some slack. Just cause you haven’t gotten laid in few months doesn’t mean you have to shit on me…”

You’d pushed up from your chair and slammed your hands into his shoulders, pushing him back against the wall behind you, but his height was no match for you. 

“Fuck you, Daniel. Just…listen to me. I saw her making eyes at you…Don’t fuck this up for us.” you said. 

“Did you really?” You’d watched as his gears began to turn. “What was her room number?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, Danny. You’re not going to her motel. Just leave her be.” You tried your best to warn him nicely. “Like you told me, she’s a paying customer. We need her to pay us…”

He sighed when he realized. “Shit. You’re right, damnit. Okay, okay. I won’t go.”

But, from the conversation you had with Y/N on the ride in this morning, you realized the fucker lied to you. He went anyway and she was clearly all about it. 

You wanted to warn her. You tried to tell her that Danny was a one night stand type, that he didn’t wine and dine like the regular guy would, but apparently she didn’t listen, either.  

As a bolt finally popped loose, it fell into the engine, tipping you over the edge of insanity.

Fuck! This! Truck!

You jumped off of the ladder and went over to the fridge under the loft, grabbing a cold Budweiser from the dirty shelf. You held the neck of the amber bottle on the edge of your toolbox, smashing your fist down on the lid, effectively popping it off. You tilted it back, letting the cold beverage run down your throat as you swallowed. Nothing like a breakfast beer. 

Just then, you heard the shop door close and two sets of footsteps making their way out. All you could do was watch as the perfect storm brewed right in front of your eyes. How the fuck was he gonna explain this one... Y/N, Danny, and whoever his woman of the night was, all waltzing into the middle of the bay at the exact same time. As you caught sight of the woman you let out a scoff. 

Fuck, Danny. 

Tanya. The woman that lived in that house down on Robertson, hardly any personality at all, great tits, and apparently she was a panther in bed. Or so you’d heard. She was nice enough, and Danny always ended up bringing her around every couple of months. You didn’t dislike her, but you sure as hell didn’t want to be her friend, either. You didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her, and last you heard, she was involved with some folks you didn’t need to be associating with. 

You paused with your beer in hand, sticking the other in your pocket as you watched the scene unfold. Your fingers twirled around a lug nut as your eyes followed Tanya, walking directly up to Daniel, wrapping her long skinny arms around his neck, and pulling him in for one last long, and especially involved, goodbye kiss. This wasn’t her typical goodbye, and you knew she was marking her territory in front of Y/N. Which is why you laughed, knowing that she wouldn’t hear from Daniel for at least a month. However, it wasn’t lost on you, the tense nature of Daniel’s body as she kissed him. His eyes open wide and looking across the bay towards Y/N.

Your eyes drifted directly to Y/N, watching as her face fell into utter disbelief. Her jaw fell slack for a second before she clamped it shut again, obviously feeling something unexpected from the sight in front of her. Whatever little daydream she had dreamed up between the two of them had all just come crashing down.

You noticed she suddenly felt out of place, bringing her embarrassed eyes to meet yours in question. You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your beer as smugly as you could. You shrugged your shoulders and raised your beer bottle in the air towards her as you watched her face flame red.

Hate to say I told ya so, baby. 

—

HER POV

You have got to get out of here. 

But where the hell are you gonna go?

You let your feet carry you out the bay garage door out into the heat of the day, wanting to be anywhere but inside that damn building right now. Why did it matter? Why did you care?

The moment you and Danny shared last night was anything but fantastic, but it was still there. It was intimate, though he had done nothing but skim his fingertips across your face. 

You didn’t care. It’s no big deal. 

But why did he look at you while he kissed her? And why was Jake so amused by it?

You stomped across the dirt parking lot to your Scout, flinging the door open to dig around and find anything that could offer up a distraction. You unzipped a suitcase, finding all of your clothing still neatly folded and tucked away. Underneath a pair of old ratted bell bottoms, you pulled out your ticket to diversion from Danny for the rest of the day: Maya Angelou’s complete collection of poems. 

Perfect. 

The book was worn around the edges, you had read it so much as a kid. You practically had every poem memorized. 

After replacing your folded clothing neatly back in the suitcase, you decided you had to make your way back inside at some point…you knew they had a full workday ahead, and it would be rude to ask for a ride back to the motel at this point. 

You slammed the door shut, shielding your eyes from the bright sun directly above. The shadowy silhouette of Tanya was walking toward you as you walked toward the building, still barefoot and wobbly as she crept across the dirt and gravel toward the road. You swallowed hard, knowing an interaction was unavoidable at this point. 

“Catch ya around, sweetcheeks.” She said as your paths crossed. She let her body come close to yours, her shoulder bumping into your chest as she stumbled. “And just so ya know, the tall, dark, and handsome one?” She pointed her finger tip into her own chest. “Mine. Got it, Iowa?”

You snarled your nose up to her at her display; you could still smell the liquor on her breath from last night. Her eyes were hazed and obviously still high on whatever it was she was doing the night before. 

“No worries on my end.” You said blankly, wanting to get the hell away from her while simultaneously wanting to punch her in the face for assuming you wanted Danny. 

You kept walking past her back into the shop, walking on the other side of the truck Jake was working on to stay as far away from Danny as you could. You didn’t want to risk him noticing that you even cared. 

You sat down in one of the ratty, dirty lawn chairs alongside the wall where Jake was working, getting as comfortable as you could before opening your book. You wanted to get lost in the words, letting them bring you back down to earth in a way only poetry could. 

You glanced to Danny as he stepped up on the wall of shelves on his side of the bay, reaching high above his head to turn the knob on his radio up to a higher volume. He hopped down, a giant cheesing smile across his face as ‘Fortunate Son’ blared from the speaker. Jake slowly raised his head from under the hood of the truck, shaking it from side to side as he stared Danny down. You realized then that’s why Danny put his stereo up so high, so that Jake physically couldn’t reach it. 

You flipped the pages of your book for the next half hour or so, letting Maya’s words take you to another planet entirely. You listened to the sounds of their socket wrenches and power tools as they worked away, providing a surprisingly relaxing background sound. 

“Whatcha reading?” Jake’s voice was barely audible over the loud noises around you. You closed the book cover, holding your fingers between the pages to keep your spot. 

“Maya Angelou’s poems. Kinda corny, I know. But–”

“The caged bird sings with fearful trill

of the things unknown but longed for still

and his tune is heard on the distant hill

for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

Your jaw fell open as Jake finished reciting Maya’s most famous poem to a tee, not faltering over any word and pausing at the most perfect times for the poem to hold its structure. 

He hadn’t pulled his focus away from what he was doing until he realized you didn’t respond, then grinned a smile so big it made your heart stop. 

“How did you…? You know Ms. Angelou?”

“My mom loved her. Read me her poems as a kid before I could even walk. I don’t remember the sound of my mom’s voice, but those words stuck with me.” He said, only glancing up to you every few words as he kept focused. 

You were floored. This was not something you expected from Jake, let alone for him to open up about his explanation as to why he knew of her work. You felt a warmth in your stomach…maybe there was something sweet under his tough exterior after all. 

After a bit, the shop telephone started ringing. You looked to both of the guys as they worked, realizing neither of them even noticed it was ringing. Maybe the phone doesn’t work? A couple minutes later, it started again, ringing and ringing off the hook for so long the shrillness started to irritate your ears. 

“Do you want me to go get that, or what?” You asked. Jake scoffed an exasperated sigh, hopping backwards off his step stool as he pulled his red towel from his back pocket of his coveralls. He wiped his hands as best he could as he rushed up the steps to answer it. 

You glanced to Danny, watching as he leaned over the hood of the car he was working on, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. You hadn’t made eye contact or spoken since Tanya left a while ago, and you had to admit, it pissed you off a little. After last night’s…moment… he at least owed you something, right? 

Once he noticed Jake was all the way upstairs, he confidently walked over your way, twirling his own towel in his hands. “You gonna let me buy you lunch today?” He asked. 

“Why should I do that?” You answered blankly, not looking up from your book. 

“Because I’m hungry, I know you’re hungry, and you bought dinner. It’s only fair.” He was so matter of fact. 

“Are you not meeting back up with Miss Red High Heels for lunch today?” Shit. Your attitude ended up getting the better of you. 

“Who, Tanya?” He asked, pointing his thumb behind him. “Fuck, no. She’s just–”

“A good lay?” You inquired, pulling your eyes up to him finally, flicking your eyelashes in the most sarcastic way you could. 

He let his arms fall to his sides in defeat. “Listen, Y/N. Just let me take you to lunch, please? I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” He finished the end of his sentence with a smirk and a wink, instantly making your insides swirl. What the hell is he doing to you?

“Alright, I guess. But only because I’m hungry, not because I want to hang out with you.” You gave him a side smile as you agreed. 

You watched as he leaned his elbows down on the side panel of the truck Jake was working on, resting his chin in his hand. 

“Mmm, I bet you do want to hang out with me though, especially if you let me a little further into your motel room after…”

“We gotta close up.” Suddenly Jake was bounding down the stairs, his steps heavy as he barrelled toward you and Danny. “Close it up, let’s go.” He slammed the hood of the truck down as soon as Danny had backed off of it enough. 

You stood from your chair in surprise. “Why, what’s wrong?”

You watched as Danny shoved his towel into his pocket, his expression immediately turning into alarm. 

“Fuck, was it Teddy on the phone?” He asked Jake as he ran around, closing the lid on his tool box and wheeling it under the loft. 

“Yeah, it was fuckin’ Teddy. Hurry up.” Jake hastily walked to the bay door, pulling on the long chain to lower the large garage doors down to the ground with a slam. 

“What’s going on? Who is Teddy?” You asked in a panic as they ran around you like chickens with their heads cut off. 

Danny closed all the doors on the vehicles in the bay, and threw a large black tarp over the motorcycle he had propped up on a block. They tossed all the rogue tools into the appropriate boxes, shutting the lids as they did so. 

What the fuck is going on?!

Anxiety began to creep into your chest as you watched them rush around in a panic. 

After a few minutes of fury, they met in the middle of the bay, in a fit of panted exhaustion and sweaty skin. They stood with their hands on their hips, looking around the shop. Jake pulled his Lucky Strikes from his pocket, nervously lighting one up with a zippo he pulled from his pocket. 

“Fuck!” He muttered as the smoke left his lungs. “Did we miss anything?” He asked Danny rhetorically. 

“No, how long do we have? Do they want a game?”

“Yeah, they want a fuckin’ game. They’ll be here at sunset. Shit.” Jake answered, both of their eyes still darting around in shifted motions. 

Finally, at the same time, their eyes landed on you standing before them in complete and utter shock. 

“Have her help you set up, then take her back to my bedroom. Lock the door.” Jake finally commanded Danny. 

“No, are you fuckin’ stupid? I’m taking her back to the motel, she’ll be safe there.” Danny argued. 

“No, god damnit! She’s staying here where we can keep an eye on her, the last thing we need is fucking free collateral, Danny. She stays here and hides.”

“Hides?! Wait, what the fuck–” your heart began pounding. 

“If she’s here, they’ll know we’re hiding something, Jake! They aren’t stupid! If she’s back at the motel at least she’s far enough away—” Danny was raising his voice to Jake now in opposition, their chests almost touching as they spat in each other’s faces. 

“Daniel, are you fuckin’ mental? You know Wanda isn’t trustworthy anymore. And Tanya was just here! You know Bubba found out who she’s been hanging around. And she saw Y/N! You think it’s a coincidence that two hours later, we get a call from Teddy?! Are you fuckin’ stupid?” Jake slammed a screwdriver across the floor, letting it bounce and glide across the concrete until it hit the wall. He stepped away from Danny, walking toward the back of the bay to continue what he was doing. 

“I told you to stay away from that fucking crowd, and what did you do? Bring one of them back with you to fuck into the mattress all night.” Jake yelled, and you watched as Danny lurched his way toward him. 

But before Danny could make it, Jake turned and held his elbow out, catching Danny’s body across the chest. “Don’t fucking come up on me like that Daniel, I swear to god. Go set up the fucking table, or get the fuck out of my shop. Take your pick.” Jake spat into his face. 

Danny begrudgingly backed away, his hands balled into fists. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” 

Jake’s demeanor instantly softened. “You better fucking not.” He mumbled, licking his lips. Jake motioned with his eyes for Danny to retreat to the back, just like he had asked. 

Danny breezed past you as he walked, catching your arm and pulling you along as he did so. 

“Come on, need your help.” He muttered. 

You ripped your arm from his grasp, flinging it away with as much force as you could muster. 

“Danny! Tell me what the hell is going on or I am leaving!” You yelled in his face, purely enraged that they were leaving you 100% out of the picture, while deciding what to do with you. 

He sighed, eyes darting around again. “I promise you, I will explain everything soon. And I promise, I will take you on that lunch date.” His hand came up and brushed your elbow, while the other pulled your hair away from your face. His touch was so gentle, while he had just been seconds away from a brawl with Jake. His eyes bored deep into yours, somehow soft while yours were filled with fear. 

“We’re gonna keep you safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?” He was gripping hard at your shoulders now, talking like he was hyping himself up instead of you. “I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Danny… I–I don’t even know you…” you mumbled, your fight or flight beginning to kick in as the sounds of Jake banging loud things together in the bay echoed off the walls. 

“Yeah you do, you know me. You knew me a long time ago.” His eyes shot to Jake again, still loudly throwing tools into containers. Suddenly his face was close to yours, his grip on your arms now almost an embrace. 

“I’m not a bad guy, Y/N. I swear I’m not. I’m just…” he winced as he searched for the words. “Listen, I like you, and even though you’ve only been around a day or two, you’ve been the only thing on my mind since the minute you pulled up at the shop, okay? You...you make me nervous. And people don’t make me nervous.” He licked his lips as his hands gripped the sides of your head. “But right now, I’m asking you to trust me. If not completely, just until tomorrow, okay? Please?” He pleaded. 

Fuck, did you have a choice?

You threw all caution to the wind as your mind fought against every red flag presenting itself. You nodded quickly. “Okay. Okay, shit.” you finally agreed. 

Danny’s expression fell straight to relief as he gripped his large, grease-covered hands over yours, pulling you back to their living quarters in a hurry. 

“Then let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

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[is-the-owl-video-cute]

Hazmat Hole 1: Overture

I went back and forth on whether to do the pilot or not, but ultimately decided not to. Pilots are meant to be an episode 0 that isn’t necessary to understanding the plot. I may go back to it after episode 8 if I’m not completely sick of this.

It starts off with a story book narration about how hell started because Lucifer was a rebel or something and just states very vaguely that he had big ideas heaven didn’t like. Also Adam was the first man, Lilith was the first woman but she didn’t like Adam and liked Lucifer better they fell in love or whatever and Lucifer gave Eve the apple and he and Lilith were banished to hell. I wish I could lie and say I was skipping over details but they used more words to explain that in about as much depth as I did there. Anyway. The important part is that Charlie is a princess of hell as the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith and the angels go down to hell annually to purge excess souls.

These two start off annoying and by god I do not see them getting any less so. Charlie is legitimately the most generic Disney Princess rip off I have ever seen in my life, complete with reading books aloud bursting into song. It’s genuinely jarring to hear her swear because you can tell the voice director basically just told her actor to pretend she’s auditioning for the little mermaid. Vaggie is annoying because she’s written like a middle schooler’s first “strong female character”. She’s the emo love interest in a B movie that was straight to video and made by people who don’t actually know what emo is.

Appropriation Deer is literally just here to make wise cracks and occasionally move in ways that make animators cry and deviantart users in 2010 scream in joy.

They could probably cut the budget in half by not having him in the show. Anyway no he is not here to do anything besides whine about how television sucks and emphasize that he’s only there at all because he’s into watching people fail and cry or whatever. He’s very flat as a character since he’s just there to be tumblr bait.

Angel is here and spends the entire episode being sexually aggressive to the point of making everyone there uncomfortable and that’s the entire joke. That’s it. He’s a gay man who says penis and wise cracks and sexually harasses the men in the hotel. Because that is how vivziepop writes her mlm characters.

We get a two for one easy joke with these two. Haha gay man is harassing a man who isn’t gay as well as haha asexual gets hit on but he says no way.

Angel is here because “crack is expensive” and they don’t charge him rent there.

Which he says while drinking a whole bottle of liquor to establish he’s an addict because vivziepop is as subtle as a bull in a China shop.

And thus we are taken to our first musical number. It’s very underwhelming.

Also Vaggie sings like she’s getting over a cold and plugging her nose and trying to do an impression of a duck.

The opening number also leaves me with a perplexing question. Can you die in hell? Do you go to super hell if you die in hell?

And we get our first real sexual harassment/assault joke from a giant slug flasher trying to make Charlie touch him in the middle of a musical number. I’m sure this bodes great for how angel’s abuse will be treated.

I hate that I know this but as someone who did shamefully hate watch sausage party twice I have to point out that Adam here is literally just a rip off of a sausage party character.

Everything down to the voice direction is literally just a rip off of the main antagonist of Sausage Party, the douche. This is probably somewhat intentional as vivziepop was a massive fan of that movie when it came out, but if you’re going to make an homage that borders on plagiarism (this is a joke I’m not accusing her of plagiarism here but it’s giving original character, donut steel), does it have to be from sausage party? Does it really? There’s other movies. Anyway he doesn’t say much, just establishes himself as a douche.

Back at the hotel they start filming a new commercial since Alastor intentionally made their first commercial bad because he wanted to make fun of them and hates TVs just that much. Nothing very interesting happens. Angel is hot horny. Husk doesn’t want to be there. Alastor makes a deal with Vaggie to help as long as she never makes him go on TV again.

We go back to Charlie begging Adam to stop coming to hell and killing demons by the hundreds every year and Adam says no in frankly one of the only songs that I like from this series. Sadly, it’s still terribly annoying and repetitive.

Viv posted meme please clap.

Isn’t this the homophobic character from the pilot? Didn’t realize she was given a male voice to imply she’s either a drag Queen or trans I guess. Great. I’m sure it’s a very artistic and respectful choice and not every other more likely reason this was the casting decision.

The episode ends with the discovery that an Angel was killed during the last extermination so they plan to come back in just six months to kill every demon in hell. I might care if any character established themselves as anything other than a vessel to spout boring exposition and sex jokes for twenty minutes.

And that’s episode one. It’s honestly just boring and all of the explicit language sounds extremely forced and awkward.

0/10, the one okay song wasn’t enough to save it. Too much exposition dumping.

[deviant-doughnut]

Augusnippets: Day Three

Bonus Prompt: Flashbacks

CW: violence, experimentation on human beings, past trauma, blood, wounds.

One minute, Bry is in the grocery store. They’re deliberating the best choice of apples. They like Pink Ladies but they’re so damn expensive. They’re lost to their thoughts and the beat of punk music, their headphones dutifully cocooning them from the world.

And then it happens.

A pair of hands sets upon them out of nowhere. Fingers curl tight at their biceps. Their heart lurches, their stomach slips. They’re back in that cell being grabbed at, being dragged to the lab once again. To the “operating room,” where they sank needles inside them, where they cinched their wrists tight to the metal. Scalpels and blades and fingers pressing into their wounds.

“Rate the pain,” commands the researcher, voice as cold as the table beneath them, Bry naked and trembling on the metal. “On a scale of one to ten.”

The researcher is armed with a clipboard and pen, and a scowl to match the cruelty of the surgeon. The surgeon is the one at the helm of this torture. He slices Bry’s skin and pries open the wounds. He curls one finger inside of a terrible gash to their stomach. He works two into a wound in their side, pulls them free and repeats the gesture. He pistons them slowly, the wound wet and loud. He laughs.

Bry, all the while, screams.

“Rate it,” orders the researcher once more, a hard edge of impatience to his voice. His voice echoes harshly against the tiles.

“Eight!” Bry cries. The researcher hums. In the beginning, Bry always used to answer ten. In the early days, everything had felt like a ten. But they’re used to being brutalised and studied by now, can differentiate between the severity of one wound and another.

“Good, Bry,” says the researcher. “Now, my friend here is going to stop for a moment, and we’ll time the duration of your healing. Last time you were ready for more after three and a half minutes. Let’s see if we can’t improve on that record, shall we?”

“One more cut,” the surgeon growls, peering at the researcher for either permission or forgiveness. Whichever it is, Bry cannot see, too blinded by the agony to tell. All they feel is a rip at their stomach, the scalpel forced much too deep. The pain sears and it screeches through them, the wound torn wider, wider still. The researcher shouts at the surgeon to stop. The surgeon barks back his own protest. Moments later, Bry’s stomach is slick with blood. It cools on their skin and pools beneath them on the metal, and the researcher and surgeon are laughing together. They’re reminiscing casually about last weekend’s sports. Healing is almost as painful as injury, and Bry writhes and shakes on the table, whining despite their efforts to be quiet.

“Four minutes forty,” says the researcher flatly. “Very disappointing, Bry. Let’s try again.”

“No!” Bry cries, voice a tangled wail at the back of their throat.

The hands release them now. The shadows of the lab fall away from around them, and the world rebuilds itself around them. Soft lighting, long aisles, gentle music overhead. Their headphones have been thrown hard to the linoleum floor, and a stranger peers at Bry with gentle concern. She holds her hands up — in innocence, or surrender, or even to simply placate them.

“It’s okay, love,” she tells them. She’s older, late middle age. She reminds them of their mother, looks shocked but kind. “You’re okay. I’m so sorry. I just needed into the apples, you see. I said excuse me and you—“

“I’m sorry,” says Bry. They stoop down and gather their headphones, trembling legs and shaking hands. “I-I’m so sorry. Ignore me. Fuck.”

“Wait,” calls the woman. She reaches out to touch them — instinct, habit — and halts mid-motion at Bry’s ragged gasp. She opens her mouth to say something. Other shoppers around them have paused. A kid stacking shelves stares openly from his step stool. Bry drops their basket in the middle of the aisle, and flees through the sparse crowd of onlookers.

-

Thanks to @augusnippets for the event!

[swiss-mrs]

Chapter 3: Time of My Life

Life Eternal Series

Eddie Munson x Rockstar!POC!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

*Masterlist, Series Warnings, Additional Series/Reader Info, and Posting Schedule.*

Chapter Warnings: Slow Burn, Domestic Duo

“You excited, man?” Steve asks while he drives. Eddie scoffs.

“Excited feels like an understatement. I get to go to New York AND visit the best person ever? Yeah, there's no words to describe.” Eddie replies happily.

“Hey!” Dustin pipes in from the backseat. “Best person?” Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin.

“Dustin, Sometimes, when a man loves a woman-”

“Woah!” “Woah!” “Woah!” Dustin and Eddie shout over each other simultaneously. Steve smirks.

“No one said anything about love.” “I don't wanna get that talk from you!” They talk over each other again. Steve scoffs in disbelief.

“You're joking, right? Helen Keller could see what's going on here.” Steve says to Eddie, ignoring Dustin. “You two have been talking on the phone damn near daily for months, and now that rockstar is inviting you on an all expense included, paid trip to visit them at their house in New York.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve's correct assumption. “Don't act like you aren't pining over her. Did you forget I was there when you two talked for 4 hours straight at a bar where all of your respective friends were, yet you ignored everyone around you? You can thank me for the help at your wedding.” Steve dismisses. Eddie couldn't ignore the thumping in his chest. Steve wasn't all wrong. He was definitely crushing on you, hard, but he be damned if he admitted that right now. It was too early to call. He was falling too hard too fast. If he were to get rejected…

“Oh, mind your business, Steve. Eddie hit it off with a famous rockstar who sees his talent. This is a great opportunity for him! He gets to see the Big Apple AND write music for a rock album that's bound to be album of the year!” Dustin exclaims, only adding to Eddie's racing heart.

Dustin and Steve continue bickering as they drive up to the Departures curb. Steve throws the car in park and gets out with Eddie, Dustin not too far behind. Steve opens up the trunk, still bickering with the kid. Eddie grabs his suitcase and guitar case from the trunk. “Will you two shut up already!” Eddie yells, grabbing their attention. Dustin's expression changes as he focuses in on Eddie, and he rushes in to engulf Eddie in a hug. It shocks Eddie at first, but he is soon to give in and return the hug. “Don’t forget to bring me back something.” Dustin says. Eddie chuckles and pats his back.

“Will do, little man. Will do.” They pull away from each other, and he and Steve make eye contact.

“I’m not hugging you.” Steve says, holding up a hand and turning his head. Eddie rolls his eyes with an amused scoff.

“Whatever, pretty boy. I wouldn’t want to mess up your hair.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the ride.” Steve softens and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my job as chauffeur.” He shrugs. Steve gets taken off guard as Eddie gives him a quick side hug, before running off into the airport.

“See ya!” Eddie calls back, waving as he disappears into the building, Dustin waving wildly in return.

Eddie gets through TSA as quickly as possible. Since he was flying out on a Wednesday afternoon, the airport was near empty. As he sits at his gate, awaiting for his plane to board, he pulls out his old walkman. He would sometimes get looks when he pulls out the thing, but since his van only reads tapes, using Wayne’s old walkman was most efficient so he wasn’t buying doubles of every album he listened to.

He digs through his backpack, finally reaching what he was looking for, Cydonia’s debut album, Martian. He smiles at the tape, running his thumb over the cover art. Ever since your concert in Indiana, he has been listening to your two albums religiously. It was almost addicting. He loved the sound of your voice. He loved how your music introduced him to new sounds. Listening to your debut album intrigued him. It was a message for all those who were at the bottom of the food chain. It was a call to let your darkness shine, and he already proudly wore the word ‘Freak’ on his back. It would have definitely been his anthem in his high school days. His music induced trance was slightly broken when he noticed the gate doors open and the attendant started calling out for those to board.

Eddie collected his carry-on, his tattered red and black backpack, and stood to start boarding. He was one of few on the plane. As he made his way down the aisle, everything just became more and more real for him. He was suddenly struck by a hard pounding in his chest. His first time flying anywhere was going to the festival performance with metallica. That time he had Dustin to distract him. This is his first time flying solo, and he was really starting to feel his anxiety peak. He gladly sat in an empty row, halfway down the plane, and took a window seat. He figured sitting by the window would make him feel less suffocated. As soon as he was seated, he turned on the little fan above him and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat, gripping the arm rests. He started taking big deep breaths and focused on your voice in his ears. He gripped the arm rests until his knuckles were white and squeezed his eyes harder when he felt the plane rattling during take off, but as soon as they were in the air and everything became near weightless, he relaxed a bit. He held the thought of seeing you in his mind to keep him calm. Eventually, he opened his eyes again and dared to look out the window, met with a serene view of the sun dancing along the clouds. He started to smile to himself. ‘I’m on my way, Superstar.’

》》》

As soon as Eddie landed at Newark, he felt like he was able to breathe normally again. He quickly filed off the plane and made his way to baggage claim. As he rode down the escalator, he was met with a sight he didn’t expect. In the middle of the floor was a hooded person with sunglasses on holding up a black poster board with red writing on it. ‘Eddie Munson (aka Rockstar)’ it read, and you were holding it, a smug grin on your face. Eddie smiled widely, deciding the machine was moving a bit too slow for him and began quickly walking down. “Pick up for Eddie Munson?” You said in a dramatically deep voice as he got a little closer. Eddie laughed and took four large steps over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up into the air, spinning around with you in his arms, causing you to shriek in surprise. “My glasses!” you yelled as they fell off your face and to the floor with a clack.

“Hey there, Superstar.” He laughed out, finally setting you down. “I wasn’t expecting to get picked up by the one and only.” He says with a big, happy smile. You scoff with face offense.

“I’ll make sure to send a limo next time.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I quite like getting to see you first thing.” He squats down to pick up your dark sunglasses. Instead of handing them back, he slides them onto his own face, grabbing your hand and leading you over to his baggage claim terminal.

“Excuse me, sir. I kind of need those.” He ignores you. “Okay, but it’s your vault if we get mobbed.” You respond, causing him to chuckle. He shrugs.

“It’ll be good practice for the,” pauses to turn around and hold up his hands, wiggling his fingers, “zombie apocalypse.” he finished in a deep, dramatically ‘spooky’ voice. You roll your eyes with an amused expression. He smiles and turns back around to search for his guitar and suitcase. You quickly miss the warmth of his hand as soon as it’s gone. You watch as Eddie waits and scans the circling conveyor belt for his luggage. You stand back not wanting to get in the way of others searching. As you wait with crossed arms, two teenage looking girls are walking passed, one of them lifting their head from the magazine they were both gawking over. She does a double tak, slapping her friend’s arm several times before nodding in our direction. You watch on through the corner of your eye, knowing what’s coming.

“Hi, sorry,” One of the girls with tricolor hair, dyed pink, purple, and blue, looked up to you with starstruck eyes, “You’re the lead singer of Cydonia, right?” You look to the other girl who had glasses, dyed black hair, and a pink, white and blue pin on the strap of the backpack on her shoulder.

“That’s me.” You say with a small smile. They look to each other for a moment, trying and failing to contain their excitement.

“Oh my gosh, we saw you in concert last year when you performed at Terminal 5-”

“You guys were awesome-”

“We love you music-”

“You inspire me so much-”

“You are a queer icon-”

“We love you-” They talk over each other, back to back. You chuckle, holding up a hand to slow them down.

“Thank you for your support. It means a lot.” You smile. They squeal like little piglets.

“Can we get a photo with you?” “Can you sign my CD player?” They say, again talking over one another. You chuckle and nod.

“Sure.” The girl with the dyed hair reaches into her crossbody purse for her disposable camera as the girl with glasses reaches in her large hoodie pocket for her CD player.

“I can take the photo for you.” A voice interrupts, Eddie. The girls look over their shoulder at him, looking at each other with a look, then both nod their heads.

“Yes, please!” They say simultaneously. You look at them suspiciously, wondering what that look was for before they turn to stand on either side of you, readying for the photo. You drape your arms over the smaller girls’ shoulders, and they lean in to hug your middle “Oh my gosh, you smell good.” “I knew it!” they say over each other, causing you to shake your head and chuckle at their antics. Eddie brings the camera up to his face. You can’t help but think how cute it is when he scrunches his face up to peek through the lens. It brings a genuine, soft smile from you.

“Say cheese!”

“Cheeeessseeee.” The two girls repeat, causing your smile to get bigger as you release another small laugh through your nose. Eddie snaps the photo. He lifts his head quickly to raise up two fingers.

“Another one just in case.” They stay holding your middle in a hug, but instead of smiling, you scrunch your nose and hold up rock-and-roll signs with your hands. The two girls do their respective ‘funny faces’, and Eddie snaps the second photo. “Nice.” He lowers the camera and the two girls release you, backing away a little. The one with glasses brings up her silver CD player and a red sharpie to hold in front of you. You grab the sharpie from her and help hold the CD player stable in her hand. You do a quick autograph.

“Can you also sign my magazine?” the tri-colored hair girl asks, holding up a copy of the same magazine you caught Eddie with all those weeks ago. You nod, giving her a ‘no problem’ and signing your name on the cover. They both struggle to hide their excitement.

“Thank you!” They both repeat over and over.

“No problem. Have a great trip or welcome home.” You smile as they give goodbyes and walk away holding onto each other. You look at Eddie. He has a smug look on his face, eyes hidden by your dark sunglasses.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s go.” You turn, and he just smiles, grabbing his things, jogging to meet up with you.

As soon as you both make it outside, Eddie is greeted with a crisp gust of wind through his curls. It’s chilly but sunny out. He follows you across the few lanes to the parking lot. Once in the parking garage, he lifts the sunglasses from his eyes and uses them to push back his bangs. You lead him across a few isles. In the middle of the empty lanes, away from the few cars parked closer to the entrance, sat a shiny, black beauty that is a-

“1967 Ford Mustang Fastback?!” Eddie nearly drops his guitar. You smirk, your back to him as you continue to walk to the backside of the car, unlocking the trunk. You look over to him. Eddie still stalled a few feet away from you.

“You comin’?” You tease. He scoffs, speechless.

“No fucking way this is your car.” He says in disbelief, starting up his walk again, closing in on you by the trunk.

“No, we’re stealing it. I actually pickpocketed those girls earlier.” You quip sarcastically, popping open the trunk.

“Well, in that case, can I drive?.” He quips back, stowing away his luggage into the empty trunk.

“No.” He pouts, and you both round the car and get in on your respective sides. Eddie is equally entranced by the all black interior as he was the exterior, “Can you even drive stick?” He whips to look at you, clearly offended.

“Can I even drive stick?! What do I look like?!” You laugh at his dramatic response. “I drive a ‘78 van for god’s sake.” He turns in his seat and mutters to himself, “‘Can you drive stick?‘ Pfft.” He mocks. You continue to laugh, turning over the ignition. Eddie takes your sunglasses off his head and puts them on the dash.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have poked the bear.” As soon as the car starts, the song you were listening to on the way to the airport continues. Eddie’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You listen to Slayer too?! Jesus Christ I’m gonna combust.” He reaches for the grab handle above his window. He looked like he was going to pass out, sinking down into his seat. You laugh.

“You are so dramatic, Eddie Munson.” He pulls himself up, sitting properly.

“I was rejected from drama club for being too good, you know. That’s why I had to start my own cult.” He wiggles his brows.

“I doubt it was for that reason.” You scoff, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yet, I believe it.” You shrug. “Eddie Munson, the theater kid reject.” You say, lifting your hand and gesturing as if reading off a sign. He plays fake hurt, clutching his invisible pearls.

“Never have I.” He says in a posh, feminine accent. You laugh at his forced accent.

“Alright, Queen Elizabeth. Let’s go.” You both buckle up before you switch gears and start pulling out of the parking lot.

》》》

On the drive to your home in Nyack, you ensure to take the ‘long way’, going through the city a little bit. Eddie spent the entire two hour drive looking out the window in awe. The drive was silent between you two, the only noise being your music and the humming of your engine. It was nice. Eddie’s childlike wonder brough the magic back to New York. Not even the bits of traffic you hit could dull the mood.

When you were on the open freeway, leaving the city, you were able to speed up a bit. Eddie made an off-handed comment about how sexy the car sounded, bubbling a laugh out of you. You exited off the freeway early, again, not bothering to take the quickest route as you silently let Eddie sightsee through the car window. When you’re finally pulling into your neighborhood, Eddie speaks up. “Ho-ly shit.” He sighs, gaping through the front windshield. “This is where you live?” He asks breathlessly. You let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, not too bad, is it?” you ask rhetorically.

“It’s alright.” He fires back with a smirk, playing along. You spare him a quick glance. He goes back to watching the beautiful houses go by. “Not gonna lie. I mean, I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“What? Were you expecting a 5 story, 200 bedroom luxury castle?” You ask. He scoffs.

“I don’t know, but this is even better.” He looks over to you, “It fits.” he says with a small smile, staring at your smiling profile for a few seconds too long. He turns his focus out the window as you turn into your driveway. “It’s nice, obviously expensive, but cozy.” The barrier separating your driveway from the street was a long row of trees that created a natural gate around the property. You drive in a little, passing through an actual gate, metal and gothic. The house could finally be seen in all its true glory.

The old stone driveway led to a two story, brick house with red accents and black shutters. The house was in the middle of a five acre lot surrounded by a thick, tree fence. The old brick structure stood strong, slightly overtaken by the nature around it, vines climbing up the walls. The lot itself was well-maintained but not artificially manicured. Clearly someone cared for the land, but they ensured not to kill the native vegetation around it for the sake of neatness. It was far from cookiecutter. It was unique and well-loved. It fits you well.

You drive up to the top of the long driveway, parking your prized vehicle in the two car garage next to the house. Though it was an obvious post-construction addition, it was clearly made to replicate the historic home’s aesthetic. “Home sweet home.” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt, Eddie unbuckling soon after. You open your door and make your way to the trunk of your car. Eddie gets out of the car and looks out the open garage door and takes in the view of the front half of your property. Jesus, this place was amazing. The pop of the trunk lock grabs Eddie’s attention as you open the lid and go to grab his bags.

“Ah ah ah!” he stops you. “I’m a big boy. Let me get it.” You raise your hands in surrender and back up a little. “What kind of man would I be, letting you take my bags.” You shake your head.

“Okay, fine. I get it. I was just trying to be a gentleman.” you let out a soft laugh. Eddie shakes his head as he loads himself up with his backpack, tattered suitcase and solid guitar case.

“Not on my watch, superstar.” he tilts his head and gives you a big grin. You roll your eyes and close the trunk door.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get inside.” You close the garage and lead him to the side door. The side door opens to an enclosed, glass corridor that attaches to the house. You open the door that leads inside, holding it open for Eddie. It leads straight into the kitchen. The kitchen kept the same cohesive aesthetic as the outside of the house, dark, warm, cozy. “I’ll show you to your room, and while you settle in, I can start getting dinner ready.” You smile at him over your shoulder as you make your way around the kitchen island and into the open living area. You then lead him down a hall next to the set of stairs leading the the second floor. There are four doors down this hall. One at the end of the hall leading to the back yard, on to the left, under the stairs, the guest bathroom, you acknowledge. The first door to the right is the guest bedroom, where Eddie will be staying. The bedroom is huge compared to his back at home. It’s at least worth two of his bedroom plus an ensuite. “Here we are.” You say with arms wide open as you walk through the door. You walk further into the room, Eddie standing by the door. You spin and face him with your open arms. “This is you.” You drop your arms to your sides with a smack, before looking over to the bed. “I put on fresh sheets and blankets. Even got you some new pillows. I don’t have guests that often, so I hope everything is okay.” You say a bit shyly and shrug. Eddie walks in to rest his guitar case on the nightstand next to the bed and drops his backpack. He then rolls his suitcase up to the empty space next to the nightstand and rests it against the wall. He steps back and walks around the room in awe. “Well…?”

“This place is amazing.” He sighs out. He chuckles and then focuses his attention on you. He gives you a big smile from across the room before running and diving onto the bed. He bounces a few times from his hard landing then lays on his side, bending one of his legs up and resting his head on one hand. He wiggles his brows at you with the same goofy grin on his face. You shake your head with raised brows and a small laugh. Eddie then plops back, spread out over the king sized bed. He sighs heavily, “This is amazing. I don’t know how to thank you.” Your smile grows, and your eyes find the ground below your feet.

“No need. You’re here to help me, remember? It’s the least I can do.” Eddie pops up to rest on his elbows, but you continue before he protests. “I’ll be out in the kitchen cooking us dinner. Make yourself at home, rockstar.” You turn to walk out the door, “Let me know if you need anything.” you call out over your shoulder, disappearing around the corner. Eddie continues to watch the spot where you once were. He smiles to himself before plopping back down.

“This is the best day ever.” He whispers to himself before cloning his eyes, accidentally dozing off.

》》》

“Eddie?” You call out before rounding the corner to his room. You stop in your tracks when you notice him sprawled out, exactly where you left him. Soft snores echo in the room, causing a subconscious smile to break out on your face. You walk up to the bedside with soft footsteps. “Eddie?” you say softly. He stirs a bit in his sleep. You reach out to shake his shoulder, and he pops up. You jump back, startled. “Eddie.” He whips his head to look at you with wide eyes. You smile and let out a small laugh. “Dang, there goes my surprise attack.” You say sarcastically. He raises a brow.

“Can’t sneak up on me.” He says with a yawn. You let out another small laugh and push him.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Dinner is ready. I hope you’re hungry! I brought you some house slippers.” You lift up a pair of dark gray slip-on shoes and place them on the floor next to his luggage. “I hope they fit okay. Now, wash up and get changed into some PJs. We’re having a chill night. Sunset looks amazing in the sunroom right now.” You turn to walk out.

“Yes, ma’am!” Eddie calls back as you round the corner. He hops up off the bed and walks over to his suitcase. He lays it out and opens it up, pulling out some black pajama pants and a Blastoff Festival t-shirt he got from the night he met you. Eddie stands and goes into the ensuite to change and wash his hands. He splashes some water on his face to rid himself of any evidence of his nap. You had an entire guest basket of toiletries next to the sink. He smiles at how thoughtful you are. He spots a new pack of black, silk scrunchies and pops one out its packaging, throwing his wild hair into a bun at the crown of his head.

Eddie walks out of the room, down the hall, and rounds the stairs, heading to the kitchen. You could be heard rummaging around and grabbing dishes. He just about enters the kitchen right as you’re exiting. Thankfully, you both catch yourselves before running into each other. “Holy fuck.” You breathe out a little laugh as your heart starts to calm. Eddie looks down at the plates in your hands with wide eyes.

“Holy Shit!” You laugh nervously, not knowing how to take his reaction at first. “You made this!?” His gaze switches to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yeah?” You laugh out.

“This looks amazing!” He takes a big whiff, “And it smells even better!” A huge smile forms on his face and you give him a proud smile, blushing ever so slightly.

“Thank you.” You reply with your head held high.

“Here, let me help you.” He says and goes to reach for the plates but you move them away.

“No, no. I got these. Grab the drinks?” You say with a small smirk. He drops his hands and bites back a smile. He makes his way around to the two cups and larger glass jug that waited on the kitchen island. You wait for him in the archway as he grabs everything else and starts following you. You lead him to a room at the back of your house, on the opposite side of the stairs than his room. You pass through the door frame that leads to the open space and gently place the two plates on the table. Once again, Eddie pauses for a little after walking into the new room, taking it in.

The walls and ceiling were all panes of glass like a greenhouse. Inside, there are a few plants littered around and a comfy looking couch in the middle with a wooden coffee table just in front of the couch. In the corner of the room was a plush sofa chair that had a small table next to it and a pretty, royal blue, semi-acoustic guitar leaning up against the table. Due to the time of day, the sun was setting perfectly over the trees and field that is your yard. It creates a warm glow in the room. The sight is surreal, ethereal, calm. “This is like my safe space.” You break his trance. “Especially this time of day.” His eyes find you. You’ve taken your seat on the couch and were waiting for him to sit down next to you.

You had a soft smile and were looking up at him with the most warm eyes. The warmth of the sunset made you glow. Eddie nearly dropped everything he was holding at the sight of you, finally taking you in. Half of your hair is tied back with a few shorter pieces falling onto your face,  the rest cascading down your back. The sun brought out the lighter shades in your hair and the richness of your skin. The slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner you had on was now a little smudged, smoking out around your eyes. You had changed from your airport clothes to black and dark gray, plaid pajama pants and a black, pullover hoodie that was about 3 sizes too big. You had taken off your slippers to sit cross legged on the couch, revealing a pair of brightly colored, patterned socks, the best contrast to your outfit. You pat the empty spot next to you. Eddie smiles wide and quickly makes his way over.

He sets down the cups on the coasters you have out and takes it upon himself to pour your drinks. “I hope you don’t mind just sitting and eating. I don’t have a TV in here.” Eddie shakes his head, still holding his smile.

“I don’t mind. We can just talk and eat.” He places the glass container down and smiles over to you, infecting your face with a big smile. You nod in response before breaking eye contact and looking down at the food. You reach down to grab your plate and silverware.

“Bone apple teeth.” You say before digging in, Eddie laughing and doing the same.

You two talked for hours even after you finished eating, well after the sun went down. You went back and forth talking about everything, as you normally would. Eventually, you both started talking about music and the album. It was clear you both had similar tastes in music, but one thing that neither of you weren’t expecting was the understanding you both had about what you wanted to write. Every idea, every concept you went back and forth on was never shot down. You would build up on each idea and create a story. “I am not letting you let that fantasy, Lord of the Rings inspired album slide under the rug.” Eddie said, holding up an accusing, soapy finger. You shake your head and laugh, drying the freshly cleaned dish in your hand.

“I don’t know how, but I promise I’ll make it happen.” Eddie goes back to rinsing off the last dish. “But, you have to keep your half of the bargain and actually release your own music.” You say raising a brow at him. He tilts his head and hands you another dish with a wide grin.

“Anything for you, baby.” He teases. You take the dish, biting back your smile as your cheeks burn. Eddie rinses out the sink and runs his hands under the water a final time before turning the faucet off and drying his hands. Eddie turns to lean his back against the counter, and you put down the final dish as you finish drying it. You look at the clock, and it’s almost midnight. You turn back to him. He still held a cheesy grin on his face.

“We should probably call it a night, hot shot.” You say, leaning on your arm that rests on the edge of the counter. He sighs dramatically and rolls his head.

“So soon?” He pouts. You smile a bit at his childish antics.

“Well, We have a busy day tomorrow. I don’t want you complaining about being tired while we work.” He groans and lifts himself up, leading the way around the island and out the kitchen.

You walk him to his bedroom door. “If you need anything, my room is at the top of the stairs, first door on the left.” You lean against the door frame, resting on your shoulder. Eddie stops from walking any further into the room and turns to face you. He places a hand just above your head on the door frame, leaning against it. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“Dinner was amazing. Thank you, dollface.” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“‘Dollface’? Really?” You look back up to him with a less than impressed expression but biting back a smile. He shrugs, his act not wavering in the slightest.

“Heard Steve say it. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work on you.” His smirk grows into a grin. “But, seriously, thank you. Today has been amazing. I love getting to spend time with you, especially in person. You’ve definitely given me a night to remember.” His honesty makes your heart flutter, releasing your smile from its cage.

“I’m glad. You’re stuck with me for a whole week.” You scrunch your nose. Eddie finds it absolutely precious. You turn to walk away, “See ya in the mornin’!” You say without sparing him another glance. He watches you make it to the top of the stairs before yelling back.

“Goodnight, superstar!” He smiles up to the top of the stairs.

“Goodnight, rockstar!” You shout back before your door clicks closed. Eddie continues to smile up at the stairs for a few seconds before making his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He sighs happily and looks around the moonlit room letting his happiness build. He then jumps, punching the air with a huge smile on his face. He wants to let out a loud yell to release the pent up energy he has, but he restrains himself. He quickly makes his way over to the nightstand and turns on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a soft warm light. He reaches down to his backpack and grabs his tattered notebook and a pen. He jumps onto the bed and situates himself to lay on his stomach. He flips through a few pages of words and doodles to get to a blank page and starts writing furiously.

“Hey, girl, I’m in love with you.”

Tag List (Open):

@ali-r3n

@starmilks

@madelynraemunson

[roo-bastmoon]

BTS Tutorial: WEVERSE SHOP

WeVerse is a platform where we can watch BTS content and interact on the forums with the artists.

WeVerse SHOP is where we buy official and exclusive merch.

Gonna recommend you bookmark those two links.

Did you know you can even set up WeVerse on your smart TV and watch content on your big screen? For tutorials on how to set up accounts, go here:

Before we get into it, I’m just gonna make a plug that you try to purchase your ARMY annual membership. Even and especially while the boys are in military service, your membership lets HYBE know there’s still interest and engagement for our boys and that they have SOME funds and fans they can depend on coming in from BTS-related content. I can’t afford the fancy exclusive expensive membership but the $22 a year gets me a free pass to all kinds of cool paid media like behind the scenes footage and extra content, too.

Okay, now back to the shop. So far, I’ve found WeVerse shop to carefully package their folios and albums. I honestly can't afford much because I want to prioritize purchasing the music more than the merch. However, for international ARMY, WeVerse Shop purchases often come with steep shipping costs and delays, so just be mentally prepared to wait for your hoodie or whatever several weeks if not months longer than our K-diamond ARMY have to. Them’s the breaks.

In terms of helping your bias chart, physical albums (CDs, vinyls) sold on WeVerse USA Shop WILL count toward Billboard 200 if you live in the US. (So will physical albums in Target—and some physical albums on Amazon IF they come from the official BTS source. You absolutely gotta check the fine print and see if they tell you which charts their sales might count toward, or just don’t risk it.)

Sales on WeVerse GLOBAL Shop will NOT count for Billboard 200, but those will count toward Hanteo and GaOn charts. If you are a non-US-based I-ARMY, please go ahead and purchase from the GLOBAL STORE to help the boys win awards in their home country if you have the funds.

Also note that WeVerse digital albums are basically QR codes that you get access to the day an album drops. You scan the code and you can play the songs in WeVerse only. None of those plays in the WeVerse app count for our charts so I highly recommend you prioritize Spotify, YouTube, Apple, and Amazon for streaming.

For more information US ARMY can use about WeVerse items for sale, including FACE presale releases, I recommend following this account:

Please go ahead and share this so the word gets out. If you know of better information, please let me know so I can keep these tutorials evergreen, and thank you!

DISCLAIMER:

I am a Dope Old Person and have been ARMY since January 2022. So I still have a lot to learn.

I’m making mini-tutorials for people like me who are comfy with technology but totally new to voting, streaming, and buying Kpop stuff.

If you know of better, more up-to-date information, please comment or DM me so I can make sure I’m not spreading misinfo. Please be polite about it, though—we are on the same team!

Feel free to apply whatever you learn here to other BTS members and other artists; I’m Jimin-biased so I am focused on helping Jimin at this moment in time, but I’m OT7 so rest assured I’ll put my shoulder to the wheel for all our members!

[lesbiankendall]

Heyyyy Spotify is getting expensive and I’m thinking of pirating music but I have an iPhone (it was a gift) and also I would like to keep my playlists and likes and stuff.. do you know where I should start ? Thank you 🙏

right so. ive never had an iphone or used any ios devices so i'm not really versed in pirating for them but from what ive read over the years apple makes it really hard for people to pirate stuff. best bet is if you jailbreak your device which is uh......not possible on the newest devices so you'd need to get an older one lol.

i did manage to find something though! there's an app called sideloadly which allows you to install stuff without needing to jailbreak your phone (there's a tutorial on their site). after you install that here's a spotify version you can install through that app. i dont know if it'll work for you but seemingly this is the only possible way currently :-(

[niemernuet]

you know i love pretty much any fic you ever think of writing 🥰 but for the purposes of this ask game, how about i wish you’d write something about the aftermath of sander‘s outburst yesterday 👀👀

Thank you so much. Big hug for you. ♥️♥️♥️🥰

It's not that long, or shippy, but I hope you still like it.

.....

There is a commotion in the back, several agitated voices talking over each other, barely audible because the music keeps blaring from the loudspeakers and the announcer yells the names and numbers of the other racers the way he has done all day long. It takes a while until two of the voices finally get loud enough to hover above everything else.

“As if a square like you would know what he’s feeling right now!” Henrik snaps. “Get…”

“You stay the fuck away!” Atle barks. “The last thing…”

Their bickering gets incomprehensible again as the next athlete approaches and the audience starts to cheer in earnest once more, and it is still going on when Timon quietly slips past Sander. He walks right into the lush green meadow that borders the arena, picking the broken pieces of the pole out of the gnarled apple tree and from the grass before he joins Sander sitting at the foot of a metal barrier. The ground is covered in wood chips to keep the wet, thawing earth from turning this whole place into a mud pit, and they feel at once soft and coarse.

“I know!,” Sander bursts out through gritted teeth. He cannot look up yet, his gaze fixated on his useless, painful boots. “I fucking know.”

Timon turns his head to look at him, Sander feels it more than he can see it in the corner of his eyes.

“We don’t waste equipment, Sander,” he says in their coach’s accent. “These things are expensive and the service team worked hard to get everything here. I know you are angry but you go apologise to them right now. And in the future remember to let your anger out on the snow only. Also you are arguing too much, you would much rather put that energy into the training, and stop thinking about the things you can’t change but focus on yourself and the things you can control…I am so fucking tired!”

Even though he has fought it so hard, the last sentence is definitely exclaimed through a sob, and Sander pulls his knees up, and buries his face against his thighs.

Timon takes his time before he speaks. “We could leave.”

Sander pulls up his nose, and not at all inconspicuously wipes his tears away on the synthetic fabric of his race suit as he turns his head to finally look at him.

Timon shrugs. “You’re right, you are going to hear all this, so why not just wait until you’re ready to face it?”

Sander frowns.

“Also, I’m hungry.”

“But, the race…,” Sander rasps.

Timon rolls his eyes. “Not like any of us is invited to the prize giving ceremony.” He smiles, and for the first time Sander feels like the weight that has been bogging him down this week is lifted from his shoulders.

“I could go for Pizza,” Sander admits softly.

Timon nods. “Pizza sounds good.”

They both turn their heads when two other people appear through the gap in the fencing on the arena. Both Atle and Henrik forget their argument at once.

“Oh, you…” Henrik says as he glares at Timon.

“Everything okay?” Atle asks.

Timon nods. “We want Pizza.”

[vanilla-lavender17]

For my request, can you write a oneshot featuring All Might and a male reader in an Aladdin AU with gags and servitude please? In the fic Toshinori is a street rat who gets caught by a powerful lord. But rather then turning him in, the lord offers to keep him fed and safe in exchange for his services. So Toshi would have his hands and barefeet shackled and his mouth cloth gagged. You can decide on the chores he'd do along with any intimate acts. What do you think?

Love this idea! I worked hard and procrastinated this so much. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Male reader(He/him used), Reader is a top, Mild dub-con (blink and you miss it), bondage, power dynamics. (Lmk if I missed some)

Ao3 tags: Alternate universe-fantasy, Alternate universe, Inspired by Aladdin, Alternate universe-Aladdin(Disney movies) Fusion, Gay male character, Male slash, Male protag, Anal sex, Anal, Mild dubious content, No lube, spit as lube, come as lube, Power dynamics, Power play, Bottom Yagi Toshinori | All might, porn with plot, some plot, alternate universe-porn, I wrote this instead of sleeping

Thieves and Locks

Miserable. Just miserable. The day was Miserable. It was hot, a blazing sun hidden amidst the busy streets. The markets were full, children running around as their parents hushed them, business men and merchants charming and manipulating their way through sales, buskers singing and swaying to the music of their drums.

For and average person, this would seem typical, but for a street rat, it was miserable. No shelter from the sun, no food, and the worst of it, no way to make or steal a dime. Not with the crowds, the musicians, the authorities, not with the busyness. Not with anything. But that didn’t stop people from trying.

There stood a hooded man with a slender body, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. His name, Toshinori. He stumbled through the streets, looking for anything he could get his hands on. Bread, apples, wheats, vegetables, anything that could be of value. Anything.

The man sped up, his search was unsuccessful thus far, nothing nothing nothing. He walked faster, growing annoyed. Annoyed at his hunger, annoyed at his discomfort, annoyed at everything. Everything-

The man stopped; something caught his eye. Something….shiny. It was new, it was beautiful, it was expensive. A bracelet, tied prettily around someone’s wrist. Toshinori gazed up, looking for the owner. What he saw, however, was…unexpected. His eyes widened, panic filled him.

It was the prince.

He gulped, surely the lord could spare a bracelet, make a new one perhaps? Toshinori didn’t know. He just needed something to justify taking it. Something to combat his moral. His mind raced, his thoughts a war zone. Each idea being quickly debunked, each image, each concept, quickly ceased to exist. What did it matter? Toshinori was a street rat, a worthless being without money, food, or even a job. So, what did it matter. What could he ever have to lose?

And thus he approached the lord, pretending to crash into him. The lord fell suddenly and Toshinori faked his worry.

“Ah! My Lord! My apologies! I am deeply sorry!” Toshinori bowed, reaching a hand out to help the lord up. The nobleman took it and pulled himself up with force. His gaze locked into Toshinori’s. Toshinori smiled, looking the prince in the eye as he quickly undid the tie or the jewels. The prince didn’t seem to notice, focused on the rat in front of him. Toshinori pulled his hand as quick as it reached, swiftly shoving the jewels in his pocket.

“Are you alright my lord?” The street rat condoled, causing the nobility to cock an eyebrow. “I’m quite all right, now get out of my face. I wish not to be seen with such…Filth.” The prince turned his body, shunning the rat, and Toshinori slid away.

The prince scoffed. Such filth in his country. It was disgusting. The lord’s hand reached down to fidget with the gold of his wrist, but has he grasped his wrist, he felt nothing. The man’s eyes filled with realization, anger swelling in his stomach. “That little-!” He spun around, searching for the figure of the man.

“That man stole my bracelet!!” The lord screamed, authorities rushing over to the lord. “Well???? Didn’t you hear me! He stole my bracelet! Get him!” Yowled the nobleman, his gaze never leaving the figure.

The authorities rushed over, running after the silhouette. Toshinori spun around, eyes filling with panic, he sprinted. Hopping through buildings and stairwells, ducking under fallen planks and low roofs. Toshinori swung his head back to gaze upon the men chasing him, and thus he hadn’t noticed the group of people cornering him.

Hearing a voice, he whipped his head around, and then that was it. A swift punch to the face and he was out cold. His head ringing as he desperately held onto his consciousness, blood dripping down his face. His body collapsed; the rat went limp.

The lord ran over, his eyes glaring down the thief. In an instant, he reached down and snatched the jewelry, tying it around his wrist.

“Take him to the palace. I’ll be back soon. Assure me he won’t wake up before I get back.”

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Toshinori slowly awoke, his eyes peeking open. Toshinori’s mind was hazy in his semi-conscious state. His body felt numb, a faint aching pain in his lower abdomen. His gaze searched the room, where was he? It was certainly not Agrabah[1], no, it was the palace.

The walls were neatly patterned with limestone and brick, the floor of stone. Marbled patterns formed pillars and thrones, the floor decorated with exquisite rugs and furs. Only the best of the best could afford this magnificent castle.

Suddenly Toshinori was aware of his surroundings, a voice pulling him from his thoughts. “Well, rat, are you going to speak or what? Are you suddenly braindead?” The voice spoke. Toshinori threw his head up, it was the lord, covered in a magnificent Sherwani, decorated with jewels and lace, sitting down on a marbled chair. The lord scoffed. “Quit staring.” The nobleman’s voice ringing throughout the enchanting room. The prince crossed his legs and arms, his gaze piercing through the street rat. “Have anything to say for yourself?” The lord taunted, untying the jewelry around his wrist. His hand rose and he swayed the precious bracelet high in the air for all eyes to see.

Toshinori gulped, shamefully staring back at the prince. He opened his mouth to speak, and yet, no words came. Sheepishly, he shook his head, his gaze never leaving the lord’s. A smirk formed on the lord’s lips; eyes tainted with malice.

“With that little stunt, I could get you killed. In fact, its required by law you die. However, I’m nice. Therefore, I’m giving you options.” Toshinori shifted, suddenly aware of the tight bounds on his wrists. The lord laughed, placing the bracelet back on his wrist.

“I’m assuming you’re questioning what said options are? Well, in truth, its one or the other. You can chose to have me turn you in to be executed, or..” The lord paused, standing up from his seat, he lowered down to Toshinori’s level, a hand gently placed under the thief’s chin. “You could repay me in a more.. obscene fashion.” The lord leaned closer to Toshinori. “I could tie you up all pretty and make you my little servant, hm?”

Toshinori’s eyes widened, it felt unreal. A man he had stolen from, the prince no less, had just asked him that? It was unreal. It had to be. This must just be a dream, he’s probably still unconscious from that punch, right?

And yet it was real. Real, real, real. He had just been asked to be a sex slave of the prince.

It was more uncomfortable than anything; shackles tightened around his wrists and ankles, holding him in place. It was cool where he was, conflicting with the hot air outside. Toshinori squirmed in his place, grunting as the metal strained against his wrist.

“So cute. It’s funny, really. Seeing you all tied up, at my mercy.” The lord’s finger traced along the edge of the shackles. Digits ghosting along pale skin. They went farther, and farther, and farther.. until they stopped right before..

“Thievery has no place in royalty. Attempting to steal from a prince, how unsavory.” His fingers pulled away as quick as they came, leaving Toshinori hanging..Literally. The lord laughed.

“One thing before we start, dear.” The prince grabbed a piece of cloth and rolled it into a ball. “Open.”

Toshinori unclenched his jaw and opened it, the feeling of cotton in his mouth was enough to make him gag, and yet he bit down, fearful of what the prince might do. The lord ran a hand along Toshinori’s jaw, feeling the rough texture from years of damage.

The lord smiled, a sinister glint .hidden in his eyes. The lord’s hands once again traced Toshinori’s body, this time however, he didn’t stop. The prince roughly grasped Toshinori’s leaking cock, harshly stroking it. The street rat moaned, muffled by the cloth, hips jerking forward.

The prince scoffed, his hand pulling forcefully away. “Pathetic, really. That desperate for my touch?” The nobleman chuckled, his hand returning to Toshinori’s aching cock. The lord’s fingers traced the tip, his index rubbing it’s opening. “My my, you’re leaking so much. You must be enjoying this? Ha, how pitiful.” The lord continued his ministrations, abusing the poor tip of Toshinori’s cock.

Toshinori began to squirm in his place, muffled moans and whines echoing through the lord’s ears like sweet honey. The prince began to stroke the street rat’s cock once more, gently this time. For a moment, the prince stopped. He walked behind Toshinori, crotch against the rat’s ass, then he continued.

The lord ground himself into the rat, letting his own moans and grunts fill the room. With each roll of his hips, he would stroke Toshinori faster. It didn’t take long for the lord to begin to grow inpatient, opting to take his pants and underwear off. Simultaneously, he began to stroke both of them, the lord’s moans growing louder. The lord kept stroking them faster, and faster, and faster. Until, with a final stroke, he came. Ropes of white spurting out onto Toshinori’s back, grunts and moans as loud as ever.

The lord continued to ride out his high, still stroking Toshinori. Toshinori’s eyes widened as he came, hips shaking in their place. The two stood still for a moment, the lord silently getting undressed all the way.

“You ready, rat?” The lord questioned, spitting on his hand. Using the mix of semen and spit, he slid into Toshinori. Toshinori’s muffled groans of pain filling the lord’s ears. The lord held still for a minute, resting his head on Toshinori’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath, I wouldn't want this to be too uncomfortable. I might be a sadist but I’m not a monster.”

Toshinori groaned, squirming around in his confinements. The prince laughed, before slowly beginning to move his hips, his tempo slow yet steady. Toshinori cried, it felt so..weird. He continued to take deep breaths, although it wasn’t very useful considering The lord’s slowly fastening speed.

The lord continued to buck his hips desperately into Toshinori. It was so good..! He was so tight. The lord’s arms wrapped around Toshinori’s waist, pulling him closer, his speed growing quicker by the moment.

Eventually, all sense of discomfort had disappeared from Toshinori, the only thing he could focus on was the lord’s harsh and swift thrusts. The lord’s heavy breaths turned into moans. “Hah! You’re so- ngh! Tight.” The lord praised, his hips beginning to sputter with every thrust. “Mm..I’m close! Hah.” The prince buried his head deep into Toshinori’s neck, his teeth biting through the rough flesh, causing Toshinori to throw his head back.

“Hah! My god! I’m cumming! Hah- ah!” With one final thrust, the lord plunged deep inside Toshinori, releasing inside. The lord paused for a moment, his body still. Soon, though, he pulled out, a trail of cum following.

“You did well, rat. Maybe next time ill remove that pretty little gag, hm?”

[1] Agrabah- The city where Aladdin is set to take place.

[nextkaratekid]

Okay, let’s fucking do this.

Hi everyone, I need some help. I am raising funds to make a life changing move to New York to study at a conservatory to train to achieve my dream of being on Broadway (stage, tour, basically my Debbie Allen and Ariana DeBose shit). But I need help on achieving that goal: last year I applied to and was accepted into the Institute for American Musical Theatre but couldn’t start in Fall of 2022 as planned. So now having pushed it back a whole year, I’m ready to make that goal happen!

I was given a scholarship by the school but it only covers partial tuition, that’s where y’all come in.

PLEASE donate to my GoFund Me link below to help this Lass make it in the big Apple. It’ll help cover tuition and living expenses since the school does not provide housing for us.

In doing so, you’ll get a shoutout from me in my Artist Bio for whatever shoes I’m in at the conservatory, tour, Broadway playbill and all.

Thank you, and it’s lights up!

[megankeely]

The final song on the album came as a commitment to myself amidst pressure to be more professional and "successful."  I was feeling convinced that in order to continue a lifetime of songwriting, I need to stay in touch with my beginner's mind.  Over the holidays in December 2021, I’d watched the Get Back documentary at least twice.  The scene where Billy Preston joins the Beatles in the studio brought me to tears.  It was as if I could breathe Billy Preston’s joy, excitement, and genuine love for making music through the television screen.  After struggling to make magic on command, to function as a business together while also trying to play with heart, the Beatles were transported back to the mindset that made them so magnetic in the first place.  The latin etymological root of Amateur means to love, and I strive to continue growing a professional lifelong music journey without compromising my ability to love it.  I wrote this song in January 2022 to remind myself of that commitment.  It also happens to be a silly inside joke with myself that in creating this album and tinkering with the vast and intimate sonics of tiny noises, I became an amateur "ASMRtist..." I am particularly soothed by the sound of pencils scrawling on paper, and I’m not sure why but it calms my anxiety and clears my mind.  I had so much fun recording tiny noises, crumpling up paper, closing old books, flipping pages in a journal, and used them as the primary percussion sounds for this song.  My hope is that people listen to this album to wind down and take a nap, and that by the last couple songs the quiet noises of Pencils & Paper help them doze off into a rejuvenating, restful sleep.

► Share Amateur:

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Amateur I wanna be an amateur forever Wanna do it all for fun But simple living is expensive And without money I might come undone I wanna make my songs for the love of it And never burn out And still be treated as a professional And stand behind my work without any doubt Oh nobody else can tell you How to make the most of it Ooh nobody else can tell you How your puzzle pieces will begin to fit Amateur (Do it for love) Amateur (Gettin just enough) Amateur (Make the gig pay) Amateur (Don’t forget how to play) I wanna be the old lady at the coffee shop Playin songs about her past With a glimmer in the corner of her eye Cus she figured out how to make the magic last Amateur (Do it for love) Amateur (Gettin just enough) Amateur (Make the gig pay) Amateur (Don’t forget how to play) Oh nobody else can tell you How to make the most of it Ooh nobody else can tell you How your puzzle pieces will begin to fit Amateur (Do it for love) Amateur (Gettin just enough) Amateur (Make the gig pay) Amateur (Don’t forget how to play)

[survey--s]

475.

How often do you eat your favourite food? I have pizza about once a week and steak every few months.

Have you ever fallen asleep on public transport? (including planes) Yeah, a few times.

What room of the house are you in right now? I’m in the living room.

What was the last tv show you watched? The Simpsons.

Have you been using Apple Music? I tried it a few times, but it didn’t really appeal to me.

Do you pay rent for the place you live? How often? No, we have a mortgage which we pay monthly.

How do you feel at this particular moment? Anything on your mind? Sore. I pulled a muscle in my neck at work the other day and it still bloody hurts lol. Everytime I move my head I can feel it pulling.

Where was the last place you went on vacation/holiday to? Who’d you go with? Uh, I forget the name but it was somewhere in the Peak District and I went with my husband and the dog.

Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? I work outdoors lol, so no. I do play Spotify in the car between jobs though.

List all the colours you’re currently wearing. Black, grey, cream and white.

What’s your favourite type of donut? It depends on my mood - I love those cinnammon sugar ones you get at fairs and stuff though.

What do you usually eat for breakfast? Lately it’s been peanut butter and bananas on toast.

Do you have any candles in your bedroom? Do you light them often? Not in the bedroom but I have a wax burner downstairs and have it lit whenever I’m home and awake. Currently the scent is Posh Honey Truffles.

When was the last time you went out for dinner? My mum and I went out for lunch a couple of weeks ago.

Have you seen all the Hunger Games films as of current? I saw the first two.

What was the last thing you said to someone else in person? I can’t remember.

Do you use Windows, Mac, Linux, or something else entirely? Windows at the moment.

How many times do you call someone on the phone a week? Maybe 2-3 times.

Have you cooked anything today? What was it? I guess. I had toast for breakfast and a donut for lunch lol. Dinner was from-frozen roast potatoes with gravy. 

Do you have a lot of cousins? What are their names? I do but I’m not going to list all their names as some of them are pretty unusual and it would be too identifying.

What does your shampoo smell like? Shampoo, lol. It doesn’t really have a particular scent.

What about the body wash or soap you’re using at the moment? Acai berries. Have you ever had an exotic or unusual pet? No, just cats and a dog.

Any movies you’ve seen recently that you’d recommend to me? Uhh, I haven’t seen any new movies recently.

Why did you last go see a doctor? To get a sick note from work. That was years ago though.

What was the last thing you bought online? Dog food. Where do you usually park your car? Somwhere on the front street - we do have a driveway out the back but the back street is in really bad condition and I hate driving down there as I always seem to end up with a puncture lol.

Does your mail get delivered to your house or do you have to collect it? It gets delivered directly to us.

Are you more logical or creative? Logical, I think.

Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? Sometimes, yeah.

What is your dream job? Do you think that’s attainable for you? Working with big cats and no, not unless I go back to school which I can’t really be bothered to do lol. I love what I do though.

When was the last time you looked at Facebook, Twitter or etc.? About two questions ago as I had a notification pop up.

Have you ever been on a train? Where did you go? Sure, hundreds of times - trains are just a normal way to get around in the UK.

How many times a year do you go on vacation? At the moment, zero - I take time off six times a year but we never really go anywhere as it’s so expensive at the moment.

Can you curl your tongue or do anything else cool with it? Yeah, I can curl it.

What was the last job interview you went to? The interview for my previous job.

Do you ever just feel like you need to be alone for some reason? At least once a day, otherwise I end up getting really stressed.

When was the last time you wore something totally inappropriate for the weather? Does this happen often? Today lol. It doesn’t happen often but it went from 4 degrees yesterday to 15 degrees today and I was WAY too warm lol.

The last time you went out of the house, where were you going and what did you do? I was at work all day - I had nine dogs to walk then came home, fed the animals, had a bath and I’ve just been messing about online ever since.

When was the last time someone cancelled plans on you? Were you annoyed? I don’t remember the last time that happened.

Do you have a friend that has a tendency to “dump” you whenever they get a new partner? No, I am not friends with teenagers.

Would you ever want to go on vacation with just one of your parents? Sure, that was totally normal for me growing up. I’m going away for the weekend with my mum in October actually.

In summer, do you prefer to wear dresses or shorts and tops? I prefer dresses but they’re not very practical for my job lol.

Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? Sure, mostly I just ignore it.

Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? Yeah, I’ve tried soy, oat and almond milk before.

If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? Ariel, duh. How many cans of soda would you say you drink in a week, if any at all? 7-10 cans a week on average.

When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? No, I’m pretty much always downstairs in the living room.

If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? When I was a teenager, maybe. How much stuff do you take with you when you go on vacation for a week? Too much, lol.

How old is your oldest living relative? Uh, I have a step-grandma who’s in her nineties.

Could you willingly live on a vegan diet? No. I’d give up meat but there’s no way I’d willingly give up cheese and butter.

If you’re a fan of Harry Potter, are you sad that there’ll never be another book or movie? No.

If you’re an only child, do you wish you had siblings? If you have siblings, do you get along? I did want an older brother when I was a kid, but as an adult, I’m quite happy to be an only child.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? Uh, about two years.

What happened last time you got drunk? It was on our wedding night - we had lots of cocktails, got fish and chips, sat in the hot tub and had sex lol.

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? About three months ago.

Do you bite your toe nails? No.

Last thing you said out loud? Toby, are you baking biscuits?

Last time you laughed your head off? I can’t remember.

What do you want right this second? Food LOL I need to go and get something in a minute.

How are you sitting? With my knees curled to my side.

Your mood? Hungry.

Did you sleep alone last night? Nope. I share my bed with my husband and the dog.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Yeah, for sure.

Do you find piercings attractive? It depends on the person and the piercings.

What were you doing last night at midnight? Sleeping.

Will you have sexual intercourse within the next two weeks? Maybe.

How many cigarettes have you smoked today? None.

Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? Yeah, for sure.

Do you like potato chips? Yeah, probably too much.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? Nah.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Kim let me sleep in this morning. I must say it was pretty glorious.

Not too much to report on my work week. Busy, but in a good way. I really love this project. The people and the technical aspects have been amazing. Fingers crossed we get to continue on after delivering everything we had to do in this initial round of work. 🤞🏼

JoBlo

Very sad news today as it’s been reported that M. Emmet Walsh has died at the age of 88. No matter the size of the role, the prolific character actor always made a unique impression throughout his long career, which spanned six decades.

He was great in Blade Runner and I loved his character in Christmas with the Kranks.

R.I.P. 🪦

Peter Bergen • CNN

Kushner’s newly disclosed musings last month that Gaza has a lot of “very valuable” waterfront property reminds one of Marie Antoinette’s purported observation, “Let them eat cake.”

Kushner is a perfect fit for the Trump crime organization. He’s a sociopath just like his father-in-law.

My gut reaction earlier sums it up.

Casey Newton • Platformer

Today let’s talk about one of the most significant antitrust lawsuits ever filed in the tech industry: this 88-page complaint against Apple, filed by the Department of Justice and joined by 16 states, accusing the iPhone maker of illegally maintaining its monopoly over high-end smartphones and artificially inflating prices for consumers.

I personally see some similarities between this case and the case the DOJ brought against Microsoft in 1998.

I wrote about it earlier in the week if you’re interested and pointed out the piece from a Jason Snell article that really caught my attention.

Emma Roth • The Verge

Threads is coming to the fediverse — and we just got our first official look at how that might work from Meta itself. During the FediForum conference on Tuesday, Meta’s Peter Cottle showed off a brief demo of how users will eventually be able to connect their accounts and posts to the fediverse.

Being the administrator of a Mastodon instance I’m actually excited for this! There are certain famous people I’d love to follow again and my hope is I’ll find them on Threads.

Tim Bray

When I’m away from home, I still want to listen to the music we have at home (well, I can live without the LPs). We had well over a thousand CDs so that’s a lot of music, 12,286 tracks ripped into Apple Lossless. Except for a few MP3s from, well, never mind. This instalment of the De-Google Project is about ways to do that with less Big-Tech involvement.

I really like the idea of this. I have an old Mac Mini I’d like to turn into a media server, most likely using Plex. I’ve started buying Blu-ray’s again for fear of losing parts of my video library at the whim of the corporation I purchased the license from.

Devlin Barrett and Perry Stein • The Washington Post

Lawyers and former judges said they are baffled by an order issued this week by the federal judge overseeing Donald Trump’s pending trial on charges that he mishandled classified documents — and believe her instructions suggest the case will not go to trial anytime soon.

The sway the Orange Turd has over parts of our government is shocking. I hope she’s replaced and soon.

Ryan Hockensmith • ESPN

How one fan picked the greatest March Madness bracket ever built

This is a fun story. I’ve picked Final Four winners and won tournaments among friends with better brackets, but there’s usually a surprise early on that can make or break your bracket.

Just look at the South this year. It’s a mess and I’m here for it.

Jason Karaian • The New York Times

Unilever, the consumer goods giant, said on Tuesday that it would cut 7,500 jobs and spin off its ice cream unit, which includes Ben & Jerry’s, to reduce costs and simplify its portfolio of brands.

Big corporations continue to make huge profits for shareholders at the expense of the working class. I don’t know if that’s exactly what’s happening here but it feels like it.

HomeGrown

As part of creating the Grow Your Own Services site, I set up my own Mastodon server through a managed hosting service. I thought I’d write an article about this topic, in order to help others considering doing the same thing. I’ve tried to break down the process into ten main steps.

If you have the gumption to run and maintain your own Mastodon instances this article is for you.

Me? I just use Masto.Host.

Aurelio Garcia-Ribeyro • Oracle

Java users on macOS 14 running on Apple silicon systems should consider delaying the macOS 14.4 update

This is a pretty big thing to break and I’m sure the DOJ will not look kindly on it.

Louie Mantia

We’ve truly lost sight of how to make good apps. There’s a serious lack of vision and taste in the industry. Everyone’s given in to the lowest common denominator in the design of apps, simply mimicking what others do without understanding if it’s even the right choice.

I’ve been reading Louie more and more lately. I’m glad he’s started blogging because I’ve loved his pieces on his work history, from The Icon Factory to Apple.

Not to mention his blog is fully hand built. That is very tempting to me.

Joab Jackson • The New Stack

After 20 years of development, the open source GnuCOBOL “has reached an industrial maturity and can compete with proprietary offers in all environments,” said OCamlPro founder and GnuCOBOL contributor Fabrice Le Fessant, in a FOSDEM talk about the technology.

What a journey! 20 years in the making. And yes, COBOL is still a thing.

[Erika Morphy • TechSpot](www.techspot.com/news/1022…]

The big picture: Job cuts in the tech industry last year were attributed to the need to economize, driven by inflation and a hiring spree during the pandemic. So, what’s the explanation this year, especially when many of these firms have accumulated a significant amount of cash?

It’s been a rough couple years for tech. 😔

KIRSTEN GRIESHABER • The Associated Press

In Germany, the far right is on the rise again. How did it happen?

The extreme right is growing around the world. Both of my grandfathers would roll in their graves if they were around to see this. They both fought to help free us from fascism.

Derrick Bryson Taylor • The New York Times

The former television anchor Don Lemon’s wide-ranging, testy interview with Elon Musk was released online on Monday morning, touching upon topics including politics, particularly the billionaire’s recent meeting with former President Donald J. Trump; Mr. Musk’s reported drug use; hate speech on X, the social media platform formerly known as Twitter, which he now owns; and more.

I watched this and thought Lemon asked some really great, pointed, questions and Musk revealed his authoritarian, racist, self.

Lawrence Hodge • Jalopnik

Lincoln dealers have a big problem. Aside from having just four models to sell, dealers have a bunch of cars from one and two model years ago that they haven’t been able to move.

I admit it. If I could get my hands on a brand new Lincoln Navigator for a super crazy sub 30,000 price tag, I’d consider it. They’re nice.

[oddevan]

Just stop, Apple.

I’m with John Gruber on this one:

Whatever revenue Apple would lose to non-commissioned web sales (for non-games) is not worth the hit they are taking to the company’s brand and reputation — this move reeks of greed and avarice — nor the increased ire and scrutiny of regulators and legislators on the “anti-Big-Tech” hunt.

I find it incredibly ironic that the flag allowing—allowing!—an app to have an external payment link is called an “entitlement."1 Apple is a company with a valuation only matched by oil companies, and here they are reaching for 12-27% of app developers' revenue even if they use their own payment and purchase-tracking systems. And all this still requires apps to use in-app purchases; external payments can only be a second option.

I want to blame some of this on Wall Street. The stock market expects infinite growth, and while Apple’s profits are legendary, growth has slowed. This is why Apple has been so keen to start services like Apple TV+ and Fitness+. Why they keep pushing iCloud+ and Apple Music even at the expense of the user experience. Why they didn’t want the details of their search deal with Google getting out.

But the more I think about it, the more I worry that this is just in Apple’s character. This is still very much the company that got pantsed by Microsoft in the 1980s and refuses to forget. Now that they’re on top of the world, I worry that they don’t know how to stop. And they need to.

Apple is certainly entitled to reap the rewards of its hard work. As John Gruber (again) put it:

Apple’s 30/15 percent commissions from App Store purchases and subscriptions are not payment processing fees. They include payment processing fees, but most of those commissions are, in Apple’s view, their way of monetizing their intellectual property. And they see the entire iOS platform as their IP.

We all pay for the phones. Developers pay $100/year to get and stay on the store. We give a 15-30% commission to tie into the App Store’s payment infrastructure (which includes purchase management and verification, asset hosting, and a bunch of other stuff that makes it definitely worth it for my little app. But this demand for 12-27% of outside-app purchases just because? Grow up.

(Yes, I know all app permissions like this, including ones for iCloud and Health data, are called entitlements. Go bug Mike Trapp.) ↩︎