#and that fucking sucks!!!!! cause it’s not like i’ll be able to afford the thousands for tickets after giving literally every penny i have

[trickstarbrave]

I don’t have dental so expensive dental stuff is Even More Expensive and it’s piled up bc I’ve had like no money and still fucking have barely any money

Now one of my teeth is 1/3 gone, a front tooth has a hole in it, and another three teeth are fucked up and hurt

Because I don’t have money and hardly anyone around me has money bc the economy fucking sucks I’ll probably only be able to scrape by with getting my teeth ripped out before an infection spreads to my brain and maybe 1 filling and hope I can save up for implants later in the next SEVERAL YEARS. Which means I’ll have to figure out how to eat when I’m missing a bunch of teeth in the back. And the joys of missing teeth aren’t limited to eating is a bitch I’ll have bone loss and trouble eating and the rest of my teeth shifting around.

I’d apply for care credit and pay it off slowly but I don’t have a credit score. Even if I did it’d probably be shit. I could do a go fund me but I don’t expect it’ll earn money very fast, it’s not like I’ll say from not having teeth I’ll just be miserable and hate myself and want to die. It’s like a quarter of my paycheck anyways so I doubt they’d approve me even with all that. If I get married soon I’ll prob have to wait 6 months and save up and maybe I can afford 1 implant a year going forward assuming my gf stays there for 4-5 years.

Good thing America is a place of success and opportunity and teeth are a luxury with no baring on our lives ha ha wouldn’t it be fucked up if they were connected to our skulls and we needed them to eat and talk on the daily then it sure would be ducked up to charge thousands of dollars for what should be basic quality of life and healthcare.

Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll just go to Mexico. It’ll be a bitch yo take off work or work from a hotel room sore but we might get lucky and maybe the in laws will so graciously donate some money to the cause but I’m not counting on it from them in case I’m just let down

[heliosthegriffin]

What to do after death; Vampirism

Preface -

I feel the name says it all.

But, I will elaborate anyhow.

I don’t intend on becoming a Vampire, at all. It’s a raw deal and one-way passage into a hell of my own making.

I suspect should I actively pursue becoming a Vampire I will lose my soul to damnation. Vampire’s are often the results of the foulest of magic and consorting with satanic entities with depraved offerings or just as often the results of those black souled individuals who find happiness in the torment of others. If I am not planning on becoming a Vampire, why I am I making this list?

Easy, it pays to be prepared. Just because I don’t seek undeath doesn’t protect me from being turned against my will. I am of the belief, once you have become a Vampire against your will you die and lose your soul, leaving a husk behind. A husk that has all your memories, personality, and desires, but none of the restraint, humanity or compassion. A sociopath with supernatural powers and a need for life essence of others to maintain my own parasitic existence.

I am making the list to give myself direction after death so as to prevent as much suffering as I can, and if possible, try and help humanity grow.

I can only hope my husk listens to my will.

My family is well armed otherwise, they will do what must be done, as I would do for them.

-----------

The List

-----------

Step One - Leave home, let’s not take any chances hurting my loved ones, or former loved ones, I owe them that much.

a) Construct a note though, tell them all how much they meant to me and why I am leaving, be through and leave nothing out, but don’t tell them where I am headed. Leave the code-word I have with our elder brother so he understands and tell him he’s free to what I leave behind.

b) Make a pack, get one of our knives in there and get a gun. Get some blankets so I can cover-up during the day, actually many blankets and some stones so that they’ll be weighted down. This is a temporary solution however.

c) Empty my bank account as much as possible. Cash and coin will be more beneficial if I’m going off the grid.

d) Leave town.

Step Two - Head north and head to a bigger city

a) Buy a sleeping bag and tent at the closest opportunity.

b) Keep an ear to the ground, find out who can go missing and people would be thankful that their gone. Pick my targets carefully, never more than one person at a time and always when their not expecting it, I’m a predator I should act like it. I might have supernatural powers, but I can’t be prepared for everything and people will know my weakness if I get found out.

c) Aim for the scum of the earth, get rid of them, but not until I have conclusive evidence. But, when I do have it, it’s feeding time, make sure to take their valuables, will need it for future plans.

d) Do that for about a month and move on, can’t stay anywhere for too long. But, before we leave buy a couple books on architecture, vampires, morals and ethics, stone-working, physics, building ect. We’re going to need it.

e) Find out if I can sustain our-self off animal blood.

Step Three - Rinse and Repeat. Go from city to city in our state till I’ve cleaned out what I can. Hopefully I’ll have a duffel-bag of money and valuables, along with those books.

a) Study those books. Find out what kind of vampire I am, make sure I learn about building castles.

b) Take some time to practice building.

c) Practice hunting; Hunt some animals to drink their blood if that helps, practice skinning and chopping up the parts. Donate the meat if I can, or leave at a poor home, they probably won’t be able to afford throwing it away.

d) Learn about interior decoration.

e) Get some better guns, drop off the gun we borrowed from our family along with a chunk of changes, leave them another note that we’re doing fine.

Step Four - Time to move. By the time I’ve hit this step I should have hit all the large towns, which depending we’re counting above or below ten thousand as a big town could take us from anywhere three years to around four if I cut off at nine thousand in population for a big town. It’s hard to say how much money I’ll have at this point, but It must be at least ten thousand dollars at a minimum if I’ve spent all my time eating, murdering, and robbing scum of the earth at least once a month for three to four years.

a) Head north. I need to get to Detroit. That place is so crime ridden no will notice a vampire. If there already vampires there leave, go find another crime-ridden hell-hole. I assume vampires get stronger, or at least craftier with age, I am not fucking with any old monsters.

b) On the way there repeat the Step three on any big cities on the way there, cover my tracks.

c) Make sure to pawn off what I can. Invest in urban camo and a bullet-resistant vest.

d) Keep practicing stone masonry, and improve my gun skills. I don’t need to chase anyone down if they can run, plus I can suck the blood from the wounds, it’ll be like a water fountain.

e) Read that book on physics and other science books, I am playing the long game, look into magic too. Nothing is better than magic or science than knowing the rules to both. Don’t fuck with demon’s though.

Step Five - Settle down for a while and then move again, once I get to my crime-ridden hellhole of my choice take some time to start eliminating the seedy elements. If not, start going for the low hanging fruit, I can’t help everybody, but I can help somebody.

a) Find some random kid and become their guardian, a great way to kill time probably.

   ai.) By guardian, I don’t mean parent, I’m talking more guardian spirit. A vampire rasing a child is a recipe for disaster.

   aii.) Don’t get too attached though, after their in a good place leave. I’m not       doing it for good, I’m doing it to maintain a little humanity.

b) By now I should have enough to fund a new identity and since I now live in a corrupt hell-hole it should be easy to enter the system. If I don’t have enough money, then attain it. Don’t try and intimidate anybody just yet me, I don’t have enough influence yet and it’ll just end up screwing me over.

c) Buy an actually house, fake a life for about ten years, then move to another corrupt hell-hole. Start saving valuable, no, start a war found, we’re going to need it.

Step Six - Start prepping for the End. Humanity has conflict in it’s blood, it’s only a matter of time before we go nuclear. Use the funds we have to buy some land in the mountains. Use the stone masonry skills and architect skills I’ve attained over the last several decades to build a fortified castle with space age materials.

a) Create a underground vault for my mortals.

b) Install anti-air defenses, install ground defences, booby-trap my land.

c) Creating a sustainable area for farming if possible, if not work on making sustainable green houses.

d) Start preserving all of human history, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Movies, games, books, porn, all of it. It needs to be preserves. Put it all in the vault. Record all the science, by hand if neccasary.

e) Start stealing relics so that they can be preserved by me. I am definitely going Trazyn the Infinite.

f) Start recruiting people for my cause, screen each and every one.

g) Put my room at the top of the mountain with as long stair case as possible, If these fuckers want to kill me while I sleep I want them to have leg cramps while they do it. Also put booby trap my coffin room.

Step Seven - Rebuilding Society or keep playing the waiting game. If the world has torn itself apart, I will then do what I feel is the best choice. Create bio-augmented techno-knights, or not. 

a) Hopefully decades of research on physics, matter, and engineering will allow me to create powered armor knights, but if not, just keep researching.

b) Make a secret castle deeper into the mountains no one else can reach without significant resources, or supernatural abilities. Start moving my lab, my vault, my copies of human history and media, plus my stored blood there.

c) When I finally succeed leave my first castle to my servants and teach them what I have to offer, leave them the blue prints for becoming techno-knights and leave. I no longer have a place among men or their future, I will merely safeguard the past and record it.

d) Go to my new castle and spend eternity studies reality and building more castles.

-------

Afterword: The probability of me becoming a vampire is close to zero, and the idea of my soul-less husk following is these steps is even less, but should it work it will have been worth it.

[toomuchponytail]

Poisoned Hero #5

Here, as promised like a week ago (Sorry, I’m a bad goblin) part five of poisoned hero!

Continued from part one here (hero drugged at the club), part two here (The antagonist beats up some guys in an alley), part three here (The antagonist takes some risks to save hero’s life), and part four here (Where the hero wakes up and the antagonist is kidnapped). 

It really means the world to me that you guys are getting enjoyment out of my little labors of self-indulgent fantasy, and I’m feeling one more in this series(?!) if someone wants it? 

Whoo! 

I’ll admit I’m mad at this, I tried to make the words come out, but, ya’know...the words do what they want sometimes. Also, so long, I’m sorry! I’ve got a lot of words, they’re just not good ones...

Anyhoo, enjoy! I love you all so much. :,) 

Hero drummed his fingers anxiously on the van’s steering wheel, eyes trained to the entrance of the large abandon looking warehouse that the crime boss had told them to come to. Sidekick was seated in the back of the van, fiddling with the crime boss’s ring, out of sight so that no one would get suspicious. 

“They’re late,” hero grumbled, “I think we need to go in.” 

Sidekick hissed when they pinched their finger in the pliers for the fourth time, they looked up at hero sharply, “It’s only been twenty minutes, he’s making us stew on purpose.” 

Hero nodded but didn’t look convinced, stopping their incessant drumming to take a sip out of their water bottle, “I don’t like it though,” they muttered softly, “What do you think he’s doing to the antagonist in there huh?” 

Sidekick set the ring aside and took a deep breath, momentarily defeated by the odd locking mechanism, “We can’t know that, we only have what they sent you, don’t get bent out of shape before we know how bad it is okay?” 

Hero sighed, “You’re right,” they relented, “I’m just worried because if it’s some poison or something that was affecting them like that….Like pulsing with electricity or something, I won’t know what to do to help them,” hero threw up their hand helplessly, “I’m not a fucking chemist or whatever like them, I barely passed my chem labs.” 

Sidekick snorted, “If I hadn’t helped you you wouldn't have passed them at all,” then their expression sobered, they picked the ring back up, “We’ll figure out some way of helping them hero, okay? We can’t worry about things before they happen.” 

Hero nodded and went back to drumming and watching, a sick feeling growing in their stomach as the minutes ticked by with no appearance or message from the crime boss. 

No news is good news right? Hero uselessly tried to rationalize to themselves. 

“Got it.” Sidekick proclaimed, jolting hero out of their thoughts, they looked back to see Sidekick with the ring open in the palm of their gloved hand, a fine off-white powder spilling onto their palm. 

“What is it?--Damn it sidekick don’t breathe it in!” Hero exclaimed as sidekick took an exploratory sniff, “What if it’s poison?! Or cocaine?!” 

Sidekick shook their head, carefully taking an empty pill bottle and dumping the powder inside, “When you were out of it, The antagonist was doing all these tests to try and determine what you were dosed with, they told me it was very likely a new form of chemical weapon someone was interested in buying.” 

Realization washed over hero, “And the crime boss was here in town on business, he was supposed to meet with that CEO guy, the one who might be the Villain.” 

Sidekick didn’t say anything, their wide terrified eyes said all that they needed. 

“And..” Hero started again, his voice taking on a slightly haunted tone, “What are the odds that that is all he’s got of it?” Hero’s voice had dropped to a fearful whisper.

“I mean,” sidekick rationalized, “If you were selling something to a criminal you wouldn’t want to travel with your whole supply right? It would just get stolen, that’s why doing business with criminals is a hopeless venture,” they smiled in an almost self-satisfied kind of way, leaning back in the seat. 

“Yeah, well,” hero replied tersely, “Tell that to all of the hundreds of thousands of arms dealers and drug pushers huh? The criminal kingpins and gang leaders? Maybe they’ll buy your do-good-cause-crime-doesn’t-pay bullshit, because I won’t.” 

“Is it ‘cause you don’t have the money?” Sidekick smirked, winking at hero when he gaped for a moment at his partner. 

Hero huffed, they were on edge, it made them fidgety and irritable, they didn’t dignify sidekick’s comment with an answer, “We can’t afford to be wrong sidekick,” their voice approaching a whine, “what if the deal is going down right now? What if that’s why the crime boss isn’t here to make good on our deal?” 

Sidekick sat up, their eyes widening in worry, “That wouldn't be a bad idea hero, or, actually,  it would be a bad idea, a very bad idea.” 

Hero went back to watching the warehouse, resuming his tapping on the steering wheel in his I’m-working-out-a-problem pattern, sidekick recognized it from the nights of patrol when they’d gone over the chem lab homework. 

“We’ve got to do a sweep of the city hero,” Sidekick stated, their voice taking on a frantic edge, “If we’re right…” 

“If we’re  right we go in and free the antagonist before we do anything else,” hero said flatly, his fingers still working out his problem as well as the plastic-leather covering on the steering wheel, “They’ll get lost in the chaos, die before we can get back here, plus, we might need their help.” 

“But if we miss the trade off...you know how impulsive Villain is!” Sidekick squeaked, “If we’re right and the CEO is Villain, or even if he works for him, that means that he’s going to do whatever he’s planning to do in a matter of hours, remember the weaponized hornets?!” 

Hero shuddered at the memory, hand going unbidden to his left shoulder as if covering the ghost of a hurt there. 

The drumming stopped abruptly, hero turned to them and smiled brightly, a determination gleaming in their eyes, “We may already be too late,” hero was already pulling on his mask, readying himself to enter the warehouse, “Ready?” 

Sidekick sighed, “Sometimes I really regret signing my name next to yours on that blood pact we made as kids.” 

“Pretty sure that’s not a legally binding contract sidekick,” hero quipped, throwing open the door of the van and climbing out. 

“Whatever,” sidekick replied, following them, “My word is my bond.” 

“You sound like your dad,” hero responded knowingly, as they made their way to the rust colored door. 

Sidekick shrugged, “He had his moments…”

Hero scanned the building for cameras, finding none he put an ear to the door, “I don’t hear anything inside…” he muttered. 

Sidekick made quick work of the padlock, picking it effortlessly, hero shouldered the door open, glanced around quickly and nodded to sidekick, the duo entered the warehouse and let the door close behind them. 

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. The main room was huge, like a hanger for a plane, completely empty, there was a staircase leading to an upstairs area and a rusty looking catwalk, a few doors lead off to what looked to be offices. 

“You take the left and I’ll start on the right,” hero offered, sidekick nodded and was off, flashlight already in hand. 

Hero didn’t risk the catwalk, the thick layer of dust over the rusted metal told them that the crime boss and his guys hadn’t either. 

Smart man. 

Hero opened the first door easily, but didn’t find anything except a folding card table and a single computer monitor and keyboard, if they thought they’d have the time hero would have liked to have broken into it, he was pretty handy with computers, but that was the rub wasn’t it? Being a hero seemed to mean always running out of time. They pulled the door shut behind them, shaking their head. 

“Hero?” Sidekick’s voice cut across the hallway, “I think you should see this.” 

Hero followed their partner’s voice to the first room on the left, another office, except this one’s contents were much more revealing, it was full of tables covered in a fine layer of an off-white powder, a mound of silvery bags of raw chemicals in the corner, hero didn’t need to know what they were, he recognized the skull and crossbones as a universal bad sign. 

“Shit,” he breathed, looking wide-eyed at the chemicals, covering his mouth and nose uselessly with his sleeve. 

Sidekick who was mirroring his reaction almost exactly did the same, “you see the blue prints?” 

Hero hadn’t, their own flashlight zeroing in on what sidekick was talking about, tacked up on a tattered cork board were the blueprints to the city’s water system. 

Hero sucked in a breath, “shit,” they said again, staggered by what this meant for the city his mouth suddenly dry as sand. 

“Remember the report we got last week?” Sidekick prompted, “About the odd activity at the water treatment plant? We ignored it because testing came back normal and that guy is always a little...off.” 

Hero nodded absently, studying the blueprints, there were a few black marks in a few alarmingly key spots, “He’s going to dose the whole city….Maybe he already has,” Hero murmured, horrified. 

“This was never about the ring was it?” Sidekick’s voice rang with desperation, “It was something to keep us busy so that the deal could go down without an issue.” 

Hero turned, “we’ve got to find the antagonist now.” 

“You think he’d help us?” 

Hero shook their head dismissively, “Even if he won’t, he’ll be able to tell us what we’re up against, if we can find him that is,” hero felt like he couldn’t look away from the blue prints, the city, his city, his chest felt tight, for a long moment he wanted to just close his eyes and unsee it, just climb into the back of the van and have sidekick push it into the river, he’d already failed, what if people got hurt? The police would never listen to him in time, they thought he was just a manic who ran around the city in a mask making trouble for them, maybe I am, he thought to himself. Is this my fault? Did I invite more crime into town by busting up smaller operations? Hero felt sick. 

“Three more doors to go hero,” Sidekick put his hand on hero’s shoulder comfortingly, “We’ll find him, even if we don’t, I’m here with you.” 

Hero let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, now was not the time for spiraling, he managed a wan smile that didn’t reach his eyes, his partner always knew what was going on inside of his head, “Let’s go.” 

Hero and sidekick split up again, hero’s heart filled with hope when he saw that the door he went to was locked, “Hey sidekick! Come help me with this!” 

Sidekick was at the door in record time, this lock was dealt with even easier than the padlock on the front door, and it swung open into a pitch black room. 

Hero shone his flashlight into the darkness, it looked bare, just an empty concrete room...then. 

“Pl-please...” A raspy voice begged from the darkness, “...T-turn the light off.” 

A chill prickled down hero’s arms, “Antagonist? Is that you?” Hero couldn’t be sure, the voice was more of a weak croak than anything...

“H-hero?” The voice wavered filling with desperate hope. 

 Hero turned off his light and stepped into the gloom, sidekick followed, shutting the door behind them, the dark was all encompassing, and in stepping from relative light to complete darkness hero and sidekick were immediately lost in it. 

“I’m here,”Hero answered,”where are you?  he found himself whispering, it felt more natural in the darkness. 

“The...vial,” The antagonist started in bitter desperation, “There’s a vial,” he groaned, “On the desk, it’s the...It’s the antidote,” there was a sound like metal scraping concrete, chains? Hero thought it was chains, sounding like the worst sort of bells he’d had ever heard. 

Hero swallowed, no time to panic, feeling his way across the room he stumbled once, loosing his balance in the dark, but sidekick was right by his side, grabbing him and keeping him from falling. 

After a few moments of blind groping hero found the desk, another moment after that his hand closed over a syringe. 

“Got it,” hero affirmed, somewhere the antagonist made a soft choked sound in the dark. 

Hero crouched to the floor and felt along the concrete until he found the chain, using his fingers to ‘see’ he followed the chain to the person at the other end, he realized as he got closer to the antagonist that he could have skipped feeling along the chain and just followed the sound of the antagonist’s labored breathing. 

The antagonist gasped when hero’s fingers brushed the back of his hand, “s-sorry, jumpy.” 

The antagonist seemed to be on the concrete, curled in on himself, hero could feel the heat radiating off of him from where he was crouched next to him. 

“I-inject me…” the antagonist commanded weakly, “Please, I-I can’t last much longer li-like this…” 

Hero frowned in the dark, “What if this is some poison instead of the antidote? What if it kills you?” 

Hero felt the antagonist’s hand close in a vice-like grip on his wrist, “Then we hope it’s faster than this,” their voice was hollow, full of bitterness, “Quick hero, I can’t stand it.” 

“What if I kill you?” hero insisted, already readying the syringe. 

“I’ll get over it,” the antagonist promised. 

Hero took a deep breath and injected the solution into the antagonist’s arm, sight unseen, the antagonist let out a tremulous breath when it was over. 

“What now?” Hero asked. 

“Just..just wait a minute,” The antagonist didn’t explain anymore, he sounded exhausted and in pain, hero wanted to be able to get a better look at him, in the dark like this it was impossible. 

A few long minutes passed, hero realized he was still holding the antagonist’s hand, he thought about pulling away, but the antagonist hadn’t pulled their hand away either, so they figured that it was alright. The antagonist's breathing slowed and evened out eventually, hero could almost feel him relax, all the pain fueled tension dissolving.  

“Hero? Still alive over there?” Sidekick’s worried voice cut across the gloom, hero thought that they had a right to be worried. 

“Yep,” hero replied, “if this is what passes for life nowadays.” 

“You two are adorable,” The antagonist noted, his voice was still weak and raspy, “Although I can’t help but wonder if I would have been rescued ages ago if the daring duo were a little more focused on heroism and less on poorly timed comedy.” 

“And he’s back,” hero noted dryly, then he sobered, “Can we turn our lights on now do you think?” 

“I think I can handle it,” The antagonist answered, abeight, a little hesitantly. 

Hero flicked on his flashlight, turning to the antagonist to see his reaction, while he squinted sensitivised eyes against the light he didn’t look like it was affecting him too badly, hero nodded at sidekick who turned his light back on as well and made his way over to join hero on the floor. 

Hero glanced the antagonist over in the light of sidekick’s flashlight beam, he was leaned up against the wall, chained to the floor by his left wrist, it was bloody and bruised, like he’d tried to yank it out of the shackle, but, other than that he didn’t look physically injured, he just looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His normally sharp bright eyes dull and bloodshot, dark circles that looked more like bruises underneath them, he was shivering, even in the heat of the room, hero wondered if it was a result of whatever he’d been poisoned with. 

The unlikely trio looked at each other for a long moment. 

“So…” Antagonist started, his teeth chattering, “He’s got access to something that interferes with a body's electrical impulses, it makes all stimuli extremely painful, pretty sure it’s mixed with a lot of stimulants, I don’t know if that’s necessary to the mix or was to keep me awake.” 

“But you’re alright?” Hero asked concernedly searching the antagonist's face, “The antidote worked?” 

“I think so, the pain is gone, but, who cares about that? In high enough doses I think it would overload pain receptors, maybe even kill someone,” they sighed shakily, “I would have thought it was pretty cool except--” 

Sidekick interrupted them with a hug, the antagonist stiffened, their brain seemingly fried by the ambush, “we’re glad you’re okay, we were worried,” sidekick’s voice was too close to their ear, the antagonist knew he should have pushed sidekick away, said something sarcastic, but their eyes found hero instead, they were suddenly aware that hero was still holding their hand, it was warm and solid, real, hero’s was smiling, they were relieved, it was as plain on their face as the streaks of dust. 

The antagonist didn’t understand, but their available arm slowly wrapped around sidekick, hugging them back, when sidekick let go, the antagonist noticed that their chest burned, but they dismissed it as a possible side effect. 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Sidekick went to work on picking the lock that was keeping the antagonist chained to the floor, gentle where the antagonist’s wrist had met the unforgiving metal. 

“What happened?” Hero asked quietly. 

The antagonist looked away, “I was jumped, common criminal move, they got my watch off of me too fast for me to use it.” 

“The crime boss?” 

“His “people” sure,” the antagonist rolled his neck, spell seemingly broken, he pushed himself off of the wall and sat up, the trembling was easing, but it was leaving behind an unnerving weakness, “they got me here, laughed at me when I told them you and I were enemies, and then he injected me with something….It wasn’t fun.” 

“Were you in that white room?” Hero asked, unable to help himself, “everything just sort of melt around you?” 

The antagonist shook his head, “No,  it was like I was on fire. All of my nerves sizzling under my skin,” The antagonist shrugged, “Later he gave me something else, paired with an electrical current to exacerbate it, but no white rooms.” 

Sidekick gently pulled the shackle open, the antagonist cradled his injured wrist against his chest. 

“Can you stand?” Hero asked. 

The antagonist looked at him sheepishly “I can try,” hero helped him to his feet, he managed to stand for a moment before his knees buckled, the muscles in his legs trembling and aching like he’d been running for days. Hero caught him easily, looping the antagonist’s arm around his shoulders, “Whoa! Got you,” he smiled without even a hint of mockery, “Sidekick, can you get his other side?” 

Sidekick obliged, taking the antagonist’s other arm, together the three of them walked out of the dark room where the antagonist had been kept prisoner. 

They started for the stairs, “Wait,” the antagonist interjected, “Aren’t you going to show me the room with the pounds of drugs?” 

Hero and sidekick exchanged a look. 

“What?” The antagonist was getting tired of not being in the loop.

“The room’s empty, all we found were the packaging materials,” hero admitted, shifting to get a better hold on the antagonist, impatient to get going. 

“We have a sample, but otherwise it’s just the bags like the ones in your lab,” sidekick added. 

“Wait,” the antagonist started, “The drugs are gone? Like ‘in the wind’ gone” Their voice had risen in panic, “Like the crime boss has taken them to sell gone?” 

“Yeah,” sidekick swallowed, “about that.” 

“I hate to ask this considering your state but we think that the Villain is planning on dosing the city by dropping the drugs in the water, and if you feel up to it we’d like your help...again,” hero added uneasily. 

The antagonist looked from hero to sidekick and back again, he took a measured breath, hero couldn’t help feeling concern wash over him, the antagonist looked worse out here in the light, his skin had taken on a grayish tone, and he seemed to be fading by the minute now that the stimulant’s properties were wearing off, “Alright,” he agreed, “But if we’re going to make a difference at all, we’ve got to hurry, I’m crashing, after I pass out I’ll be no use to anyone for hours.” 

“By then it’ll be too late,” hero whispered, already starting to move again. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the antagonist agreed.

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

Next

Previous

AO3

...

He knocks on the door softly, wincing at the startled yelp he hears from the other side, but he hears a ‘come in’ before he can apologize. He peeks open the door, and it takes him a moment to find Remus, who is sitting in the corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest, to the left of the door.

 “I brought you some pancakes.” He starts simply. “Would you like the door open, or closed if I intend on staying in here with you?” He asks, not missing Remus’s surprised consideration at the question. He knows well enough the importance of choices.

 “closed is fine.” Remus says after a moment, and he nods, closing the door softly. He slides the plate of pancakes across the floor to Remus, grabbing a spare blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders as he settles in the corner opposite Remus, idly looking around the room, careful not to make Remus feel stared at or watched.

 “They taste great, by the way. The pancakes. And I know Patton enjoyed the company.” He comments, noticing how Remus’s shoulders tense a bit, though he does take a bite of food, savoring the fluffiness and heavenly sweetness of syrup. In only a few minutes, the plate is slid back across the room to Janus, who sets it aside.

 “you didn’t need to come check on me.” Remus mumbles, and he hums for a moment, thinking.

 “I didn’t. And I will leave if you want. Tell the others you’re just resting, and to leave you alone, if you like.” Remus considers for a moment, before shaking his head, resting it atop his knees. He relaxes back against the wall, stretching out his legs and looking up at the ceiling, letting Remus set the pace.

 “I was excited. And I yelled. And I asked for something.” Janus tilts his head to show he’s listening, but still doesn’t look away from the ceiling, knowing the weight of a gaze is not welcome.

 “you did. And while it did startle everyone, it made all of us happy, to see you happy about something.” He replies evenly.

 “I’m not allowed to be loud. It gets me in trouble. Which really means it gets Roman in trouble. It means… it means he gets hurt. I know… I know it’s not like that anymore, but… but I still expect it, I can’t… I can’t not.” He lets out a low breath, nodding, finally tilting his head so he’s looking at Remus.

“I know. I was younger, and alone, but I can imagine, if they’d stolen one of my nest mates along with me, how hard I would cling to them as my life line, how hard I would fight to keep them safe. I learned obedience quickly, with the help of their tools” he spits the word, “though pain was unavoidable.” He can still feel the needle sharp jolts of pain over every inch of what was once scales, his flesh torn and raw and red, each one meticulously plucked from his skin for some fine lady’s jewelry or a rich man’s fancy cape, the type of pain that didn’t even hurt after a day, just made his stomach roil and his balance lopsided, ill and feverish and weak from it.

 “I suppose they took better care of me than they did you. I wasn’t a lab rat, and they couldn’t afford to lose me. They fed me well so my scales would stay shining and bright, would always tend to my injuries carefully so they would grow back in well after every pluck. Lots of IV’s, to keep me hydrated and get nutrients in me.”

 “how often?”

 “Once every month, month and a half. I was eight, when they grabbed me. I was 21 when they got me out.” Remus lets out a low whistle at that, the silence lingering for a moment, and he can feel Remus studying him, debating something in the silence.

 “how… did you stop? Forgetting where you are, I mean. Or… knowing where you are and just… not being able to believe it?” He sighs, letting his eyes meet Remus’s, a small, bitter smile on his lips.

 “you don’t, really. I’m still expecting something to go to hell, and somedays I can’t leave my room, convinced for some reason that if I walk out I’ll see the hospital white halls. Some nights I still wake up, thrashing and screaming, and some nights I don’t sleep at all, and some days I cannot stand to have anyone touch me. It comes and it goes. It just… comes less and stays for shorter amounts of time, the longer I’m here with people I trust.”

 “that fucking sucks.” Remus mumbles softly, picking at his shirt. He shrugs.

 “yeah. But it’s still better than the real thing. And everyone knows to respect whatever boundaries I lay down, no matter how often they shift and change from day to day. You won’t get in trouble for allowing someone the privilege of touching you one day, then saying no touch the next. Or allowing one person touch, but denying another. I know me saying it doesn’t just magically let you believe it, but they’ll show it to you, over time. Because every time you say something, or ask for something, or get loud and excited, and expect that punishment? It won’t come. Until you start to believe them when they say it won’t ever.”

 Remus meets his eyes again, for longer this time, once again on the brink of saying something, but unsure if he can cross that precipice. He knows that feeling, hell, he probably knows all the exact things going through Remus’s mind right now, because they’ve sped through his own a thousand times.

 “so if… if I wanted touch now… you wouldn’t just pat me on the back or something later, when… when I’m not expecting it?” Remus finally asks, though he can tell it’s a precursor to what he really wants. Still, he’ll never push. He just nods.

 “Yes. And if you did want touch it would also be ok if you only wanted a specific kind of touch. Hand holding, arm around the shoulders, full on cuddling, that kind of thing. It is always open and up to you to decide what you are and are not ok with. You can always ask for more. Likewise, you can always ask for less, if you decide something is too much.” He answers, trying to keep his voice soft and purely informational, trying to make this easier.

 He's surprised when Remus nods decisively once, takes a deep breath, then scoots across the floor to him, carefully settling against him so that their sides are touching. Somehow he expected to be the one to go to Remus, not the other way around. He’s almost afraid to move, afraid to scare Remus away.

 “have… have you ever gone back? To your home planet?”

 “Once. Just to see. It was strange, being there. It felt right but… empty. So much of who you are as a Naga is built on what nest you’re from, what family in that nest you belong to, and I don’t have any of that. I was an outsider in my own home. It… hurt, but I think I needed it to. I had already planned on staying aboard, I just had to make sure.” Remus nods.

 “I miss home. I wonder what movies have come out, what my friends grew up to be, what my parents are doing now. If they stayed together or got divorced, or maybe had more kids, or maybe adopted. I could see that. They always wanted to foster. But we can’t even check, can we? That’s not the rules for Earth.”

 “no. they aren’t.” He replies. Earth is just starting to open up to aliens, just starting its space exploration, just a baby in the grand scheme of space, and thus heavily regulated, both by the planet itself and other universal aid to keep other planets from interfering in Earth’s development. No, returning home for the brothers is impossible, at least for the foreseeable future.

 Remus rests his head on his shoulder with a sigh, and he is once again terrified to move, to scare the skittish human away.

  “Logan said we’ll be touching down somewhere in a few days. I’m going to lose it as soon I step outside, I know it. I’m trying to brace myself already, trying to remember what real sun feels like, what wind or grass or trees even look like, what solid ground feels like, and I can’t. How pathetic is that? Ten years of my life, I spent outside every second I could, and now I can barely remember what outside is.”

 “Lose it, then. Scream and cry and pound the ground and punch a tree and laugh while sobbing like a maniac. It’ll make you feel better, extremely satisfying, really.” He replies, remembering his first time off ship. He’d just sat on the ground in the sun, just crying. Just endlessly crying. Remus lets out a small snort, gently bumping his shoulder against him.

 “I’m sure that would go over well with the locals. ‘Oh that? That’s just the human, losing his shit, don’t worry, he probably won’t break your shit or kill any of you, though he is half feral.’ I’m sure that would put their minds right at ease.” He simply shrugs again.

 “Fuck ‘em. I can move faster than nearly any other species, and I’ll bite whoever wants to even think of trying something. It’s a small planet, yes, but a common way fair point for smaller ships like ours. Smuggling isn’t uncommon in the galaxies, Remus, and they’ve seen their fair share of refugees. We wouldn’t be taking you somewhere you wouldn’t be safe.” He softens, feeling Remus sigh.

 “I… know. That’s what’s hardest. Is knowing that I somehow trust all of you because it terrifies me, all the extra ways I could hurt cause of it. All the different ways any… any of you could hurt me.” He doesn’t say anything to that. There’s nothing he can say, that will ease Remus’s mind. Only time can do that, as painful as it is to see that doubt creep in, he knows it can’t be vanquished so easily. “could… could you… hold me?” Remus asks, voice small, and instantly he shifts, allowing Remus to slip onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around them both, one hand resting on Remus’s waist, the other gently stroking up and down his back.

 “Is this alright?” He murmurs softly, and Remus lets out a small, content hum, eyes drifting closed where his head rests against his chest. He smiles smally, humming softly, that lilting lullaby from his memories, watching Remus’s face finally relax as he fell fully asleep.

 Of course, now he couldn’t move, stuck as he was with a human on his lap, not that he minded, really. It felt… nice, having someone curled against him, his own temperature rising to cozily warm as Remus’s supplied extra to compensate for his colder body temp, it felt… natural.

 This is how Naga were supposed to sleep. Curled up together, piled on top of each other, tangled around each other, and it had been a long, long time since he let anyone hold him, not even Patton, despite his intrinsic need for touch. He avoided it like the plague most of the time, because he couldn’t stand to have a taste of it, only to lose it again.

 But now, Remus is curled in his lap, and his senses are on fire, and he feels warm, and whole, and full, in an aching, needy sort of way, and he knows that plan is out the window, hurtling into the dark abyss of space, because this is absolutely pure bliss, and he finds himself snuggling closer to Remus, resting his head in Remus’s hair with a soft sigh.

 Yes. Remus reminds him far, far too much of himself, for either of their own goods.

[frekydeki]

Cupid Can’t Fall in Love

Part 1

Summary: (AU) Eternal and true love is a business transaction for you. Soulmates are simply two file folders tied together with a golden bow. But when eight folders come across your desk, your job gets a little bit stickier with each passing day. Being a Cupid isn’t so easy as it sounds...

Pairing: (Jihyun x Reader) 

| Part 1 | Part 2: Upcoming 

It’d be beautiful. The golden grass, the falling sun, the gentle and warm wind, the serene silence… It would all be so beautiful if he wasn’t staring into your eyes so tearfully. You trace your eyes over his blue hair and follow the line of his jaw, then his neck, over his collar bone and to his heart. Your e/c eyes widen to the size of the moon; a glowing arrow burns frantically in his chest. You harshly draw in a breath and smack your hand over your own arrow, hammering in your heart.

         You can’t process the tear trailing down your cheek as you turn your eyes away and up to the scattered clouds in the sky. Why? How did this happen? It’s got to be a mistake…

         It’d all be so beautiful… If only you could fall in love.

         How… Did it come to this?

Working for Aphrodite isn’t the most exciting employment option. When you were first born, you took a little bit more to your father’s side, preferring to kick ass here and there. But after a run-in with a seething Achille’s, – you told Zeus to just kill the guy but he insisted you talk it out – you got your butt kicked so bad that even Ares himself worried over you. Your mom said your warrior days were over that day. Nobody defies the word of Aphrodite, after all, and that’s why you’re holed up in this stupid office. Battle armor feels much more natural than the pencil skirt and blouse you’re wearing, but this is what you have now; platform heels, scrunchies, paper cuts, and the sound of typing like chinese water torture to your ears. Lucky you, though! You’ve put in your two millennia to get a personal office, away from all the typing and scratching on parchment; its maybe one of your greatest achievements in the past two thousand years since Aphrodite and Ares put you on the bench.

         This tiny little office is your hell a little bit away from hell, you like to say. You still have mental break downs and panic attack under your desk, and you’ve forgotten what wood your desk is made out of; but at least you get some damn silence. Except for the obnoxious banging on your door that’s happening right now. Is it eight already? The dread of a thousand punished souls in the underworld escapes from your lips in a groan; you barely even filed the cases you finished yesterday. Nevertheless, you roll in your rock hard chair – Hera was kind enough to make you a small cushion, even if it looks like a grandma’s afgan turned cushion, you and your butt love it – to swing your door open at a dangerous speed.

         The young blonde before you smiles and points towards the soft close door.

         “Isn’t it great Ares installed those personally for you?” Her raspy voice sputters to you quickly. Her scrawny finger then points to the coffee mug in your hand, “Hey, is that coffee.”

         “Yeah, what el-“ Your hand becomes lighter as she snatches it from you and takes a long swig.

         “I haven’t slept in like three days,” She babbles to you as she puts the coffee back into your hand and turns to the cart littered with folders, “Finals are next week and I haven’t studied all semester.” You’ve grown used to the incessant mumbling that Angelia lets loose every morning while handing in your cases… She’s like this every week, even without finals. “Becoming a god sure isn’t easy work!” She loudly laughs before continuing on about offerings and the rules of appearing to humans.

         “You know, Angelia, if you didn’t spend all of your time programming social media sites for humans, you’d be able to get your work done.”

         “How else is a messenger god supposed to stay relevant? Dad already does all the messaging between gods, so there’s no work for a dumb college god like me.”

         “You’re in college… That’s your job right now.” Your lidded eyes meet hers as she blows a loose strand of curly hair from her face and drops two folders onto your lap.

         “Yeah but I’ll disappear if I loose followers.”

         “No. You won’t. You’re a god born of two gods, not a god born of need. There’s a clear difference. We survive whether or not humans worship us individually. Plus there’s other jobs for gods to do other than meddling and fucking around.”

         “Yeah but I wanna be a messenger god!” She whines as she drops four more folders onto your lap. “Only eight new assignments today. Lucky you.”

         “L… Lucky me?” You screech at her. “I already have two hundred and eighty- eight active cases!” She surrenders her hands and pursues her lips at you.

         “I don’t decide who gets what cases.”

         “Yeah but you could also maybe throw in a word to Aphrodite and be like, ‘Yeah, boss, don’t you think MC already has enough assignments right now?’ You know, maybe stick your neck out for a friend once in a while?” Angelia continues to stack cases on your lap, unphased by the explosive temper you let loose every morning, and you keep on crying up to her, “Are you listening to me Angelia? I’m drowning in stress right now! If I were a nymph I would’ve shriveled up and died three hundred years ago.” With your pouting expression and whiney voice, you can be compared to a kid whose mom put her favorite cereal back on the shelf.

         “But you’re not a nymph. Yay! You won’t shrivel up and die.”

         “But if I were a nymph I would have. Doesn’t that concern you? I could die!”

         “Gods don’t die.”

         “Yes we do!” You snap up to her grinning face, “And the leading cause is stress!” The over caffeinated girl isn’t moved by your whining, so you switch to a bargaining strategy quickly.

          “Okay, hear me out,” You begin with a lowered voice, “Maybe if you just slip these onto someone else’s desk, and then pretend that you didn’t notice when Aphrodite asks you “What the hell?” By then that Cupid would have already started the assignment so there’d be no point in bothering me to do it.” Angelia drops the last heavy file folder on your lap and shakes her head. You blink as the weight of your coffee is lifted from your hand again.

         “No can do, my friend.” She begins as she sips loudly from your coffee mug, before her face scrunches, “Too much creamer.” Angelia puts the mug back in your hand, all the while you watch her with eyes the size of the moon; is she serious right now? Of course you know there’s too much creamer in there; you just had a late morning so for all you care she can take her scrutiny and shove it. “Anyways, Aphrodite and Eros both said - very strictly, I might add - that these files are meant for your hands only. Anyways, I’m only part time, here. That all is way above my pay grade.”

         “Angelia,” You suck in a heavy breath through your nose to try and curb your frustrations with the shrugging girl before you say, “You suck.” At that, she laughs heartily. She giggles her good-bye to you over the sound of her clicking heels as she moves to give the next guy his shackles for the day. “Hey!” She turns over her shoulder to acknowledge your head poking out of your office, “You tell Aphrodite that if I get any more cases this week I’m going to go ahead and fall in love, ya hear?”

“Yeah, right. Someone like you, fall in love?” She snorts, “Not even Eros would take that assignment.” You lift your lip, eyebrows pinching together, and shout back to her:

“Go bother someone else… I’m gonna be here all night because of you.” She waves and smiles pleasantly, which you return half-heartedly. The door shuts gently, and you groan back over to your desk.

         Eight files don’t sound like much to the human ear, but these files hold every single aspect of the subject’s life, so it looks like the holy bible. It’s not that you mind the read all that much – it’s like a nice little short story – but it’s the paperwork and scheming that you hate with every fiber of your explosive being. You look to the mirror hanging on your wall after glancing through one of the files – these were all a little bit bigger than the normal case – and decide to put your work order in for their vial’s early; it’s going to take a while to gather their life essence. You grab a drachma and turn it about in your hand as you scribble the eight names onto separate blue ribbons.

         “Ánoixe.” You cough, watching the solid mirrors surface begin rippling like water after a stone is thrown into it. “Eudorus.” The rippling increases before orange begins to reflect in the mirror; it slowly stops to reveal the freckled and smiling face of your good buddy. “How are you this fine morning?”

         “Don’t play coy with me, MC. I know you’re only here to give me more work.” Your lips snap shut before you laugh lightly.

         “I’m sorry. I usually wouldn’t bother you about it until tomorrow but… I just got eight new assignments and they’re really big files. I thought I’d give you a head start on getting their essence for me.”

         “Eight!” He cries at you, his freckled cheeks becoming red and eyes watering. “You’re already drowning in work already!” He purses his lips and puffs his cheeks as he mumbles under his breath, “Mom really has to stop giving you so much work. You’ll keel over soon because of lack of sleep.”

         “Can you do this for me? I’ll buy you dinner tonight?” He smiles at you.

         “I’d do it even if you didn’t offer food, but since you did you can’t take it back now. Give me the ribbons and I’ll give ‘em to you at dinner.” You push your hand through the mirror, flinching as the humid air of his workplace gathers to your hand.

         “How do you even breathe in there Eudorus? It’s so humid.”

         “You get used to it after a little.” He stops as he eyes you, his lips parted and brows slack in what you can only dreadfully identify as one thing; concern. “Are you getting enough sleep, MC?”

         “With all these cases on my desk, I can’t afford sleep.”

         “We might be gods and all, but we need our sleep just like the humans.” You grin as you roll your eyes playfully.

         “You’re starting to sound like Apollo.”

         “If he sees you like this MC he’s going to tear you a new one about taking care of yourself, and you know he’s going to crack down on your eating habits! You’re worse than Hades sometimes…”

         “I know, I know… I’ll just avoid him at all costs.” Your half-brother grins at you before he waves the ribbons held lightly in his smooth hands.

         “I better get to work on theses. And you better to, if you want to cut down on those piles on your desk.”

         “You’re right. Have a good one, Eudorus.”

         “Yeah, you too.” You watch as your red-headed brother disappears, and the mirror hardens again. Staring at your reflection, you realize you really do look like you’re on your deathbed. Your skin is a shade or two lighter from its usual hue, hair messily tossed into a bun, your bags much more prominent, and lips pulled down in a frown much more than usual. You look away quickly, recalling Angelia’s words from earlier…

         “Yeah, right! Someone like you, fall in love?” You stare critically at the stack of finished reports you need to put in their rightful files; you will never have one of these for yourself… It’s strictly off limits for you as a Cupid. If you fall in love, you lose your job. Sometimes it makes you mad, other times sad, and some rare times, you’re glad.

         Filing cases is the easy part of your job; all the hard work’s done, now all that’s left is topping off the paired folders with golden ribbons and filing them into your large bookshelf for review and approval by Eros. Eros, that sleaze. It’s been at least a millennium since you went through the trouble of pairing him with Psyche and he still has the nerve to waltz into your office and flirt with you shamelessly. Plus, he gets to keep his job despite being head over heels for his wife; who cares if he’s a primordial? He should be held to the same standards as everyone else!

         That’s not what matters at the moment though, you guess. Getting these cases off of your desk is the priority! You managed to close thirty cases last night, so you just need to focus on getting them all patched up nicely. You glance to the new files on your desk; once this is done you can stick your nose into the new assignments. 

         “Is this a joke, mom?” Saying you sounded as loud as Zeus when he and Hades butted heads would almost do a disservice to your anger. You are livid, fuming, downright insane with rage. Her beautiful violet eyes snap up to your own as she gracefully pushes her blonde hair from her face and folds her hands in front of her.

         “Is what a joke, MC?” Most of the time, her voice would’ve calmed you down to the point of rational thought, but not today. You’re ready to body slam her into Tartarus. You wave the files frantically in front of you and drop them onto her desk, eyes on fire and steam running out of your ears. You’re an Ares level threat right now.

         “What the hell are these assignments?” You screech. Opening the top folder you drop the picture of the blonde on her neat, tidy desk. “Yoosung Kim, 21, college student. He’s fucked up right now, mom. He recently lost his cousin, who, might I add, is also one of these files. How the fuck am I supposed to make a dead woman fall in love? And how the hell am I supposed to make someone like Yoosung fall in love while he is like this?” She opens her mouth to respond but you slap another picture in front of her. “Jumin Han, 26, an executive who doesn’t know the half of relationships and trusting another person. I can’t work with this yet! And don’t you even get me started on Saeran and Saeyong, have you even looked through these files? And Jihyun? What the fuck is going on with this guy?” You feel a large hand plop down on your shoulder. A growl nearly comes from you as you look up to your father, his yellow eyes telling you to try and calm down. “Well when the hell did you get here?”

         “I was here the whole time MC. You just marched in, ready for the kill.”

         “Well if she wouldn’t hand me such bullshit cases on top of all my other cases I wouldn’t feel like murdering everyone on this damn mountain!” Ares chuckles as he shakes his head in amusement.

         “You sure are my daughter, but you’re almost worse than me. What have I always told you, little soldier?” Your mouth draws into a thin line, before you mumble your response so lowly that no one could understand you. “No matter how hard it gets, it is your duty, and so you shall finish it.”

         “It could also be Eros’ duty. Or Agata! She only has like, ten assignments right now.”

         “Yes, my dear. But Agata is also very new to working as a Cupid.”

         “She’s been in the department for two hundred years!”

         “These cases require experience and power greater than that of a two hundred-year-old nymph.” You draw your lips into a thin line and eye your mother critically. What the hell does she expect you to do with this? You’re originally a war goddess. You were meant to fight, not shoot people with metaphorical arrows and make sure they fall head over heels with each other!

         “This is the life you have now, MC.” Ares begins, for like, the millionth time this month. You grind your teeth and step away from him. You know that you have to content yourself with working in a quiet office, watching others fall in love, constantly typing on a computer, wearing these stupid pencil skirts and bows…

         “But I hate wearing these damn heels!” Is all you can screech, childishly. Aphrodite giggles as she stands and walks to you.

         “But they make you look so beautiful.” You send a harsh glare up to her; of course, she doesn’t even flinch cause your glares are as harmless to her as a feather is to a rock. “I trust you to handle these assignments better than anyone working here… Even myself. I wouldn’t have given them to you otherwise.”

         “How do you suggest I start these, then?”

         “Drink their essence and see what they need.”

         “I’m not a damned therapist.”

         “Hear, hear!” Ares uselessly calls as he resumes his seat on the couch. He shrinks a little when Aphrodite sends him a harsh, menacing glare; if there’s one thing all the gods have learned, it’s that Aphrodite – and possibly Persephone – are the scariest when they get mad.

         “Yes, but you will know where to go. I can assure you.” You puff out your cheeks and cross your arms.

         “Fine, but you owe me three weeks of vacation since I can’t go next week anymore!” You hiss as you take the files she’d gathered in her hands before you even simmered down – it’s like she knew she’d win you over – and stomp to the door. “I had tickets to the premier of the new marvel movie! Do you know how expensive those are?” You cry, ready to slam the door shut, but giving your mom one more, half-hearted stare.

         “You’re a goddess, sweetheart. You have an endless supply of money.”

         “That doesn’t mean I want to waste it!” And you move to slam the door shut, but it slows just at the end. You swear your eyeballs set on fire as you realize that your father installed yet another soft close door because of you.

         What’s your plan? Dive in head-first and get blind-sided at every corner like Zeus? No way, just thinking about that has you ready to start another war. You need a plan, a good plan, and as much information as you can get. Meaning you’re going to have to work with their guardians. Pompous, inconsiderate, above the law shit heads is what guardians are. In your millenniums, you’ve avoided most, if not all, contact with them. You don’t work well with big heads; they always mess things up because they’re always right, narrow-sighted, and rash. Add to that the state that these wards are in, you can’t imagine these guardians will be the best help… But you’ve got to take whatever you can get.

         And that’s why you’re sitting at a large table of seven guardians, enjoying a measly meal of chicken tenders and fries; ambrosia is too damn expensive these days. But you suppose that as the times have changed, your offerings and followers have fallen to a measly, absolute zero. No worshippers? No ambrosia. It’s a good way to stir up some envy here on Olympus.

         “So, what do you need, Cupid?”

         “I need to know about your wards.” You sigh as you plant a folder in front of each guardian. You point to the empty chair and raise your brow, “Where’s Mina’s guardian?”

         “Uh, she’s out on sick leave.”

         “I thought you guys were invincible?”

         “Well, after all the times she’s worked, I’m sure she needs a break for a little.” Aeneas snaps at you. You roll your eyes; guardians were specifically designed to do everything but need a break. You’d have to check in with Zeus later to see what the hell is going on with her.

         “Okay, whatever.” Continuing, you decide to get straight to the point, “Tell me everything you know about your wards. Why are they in the state they’re in?”

         “Some wards are harder to guide than others.” Jac gently speaks. You look to the soft-featured man, nodding your head. You know that… You’ve always treasured Jac as a guardian, he’s one of the few to look at you on equal grounds.

         “I know. I’m sorry if it felt like I jabbed at you. Could you all maybe explain to me what you’ve learned does or doesn’t work with these wards?”

         “Of course… We’ll do as much as we can to help…”

[cryptidswrite]

Reckless Abandon

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: angst mostly, a teeny bit of fluff, overwatch au, one shot + epilogue

Warnings: hella geeky with a touch of violence

Word Count: 3,976

Description: Jeongguk is Busan’s pride and joy. He protects the city from all enemies; omnic and talon alike. His face is plastered on every billboard and every street corner. You can’t even drink a can of soda without feeling like he’s watching you. The glitz and glamour he receives is endlessly irritating to you, his mechanic. When will he wake up and see that there's more important things than fame?

Author’s Note: D.va’s animated short had me feeling some type of way. So this is pretty much based off of that. Thanks, Blizzard. If only they’d make a kpop idol D.va skin. Only then will all my dreams have come true. This is my second attempt at truly writing a fic so bare with me.

“Former ESports Champion turned meka pilot, Jeon Jeongguk has done it again! Just last week he risked his life to save Busan from the Keishun ominics. At just 20 years old, he’s become South Korea’s star in the line of defense. Quick to respond to the surprise attack, Jeon and the meka squad were -”

You click off the holovideo with a roll of your eyes and pick up a clean rag to wipe of your greasy face. Rummaging through your tools, you scoff at the latest headlines. Here you are fixing up his mech from the previous week’s battle. He’s all but killed your poor baby, Bunny. The name is lame, you know and Jeongguk reminds you often. Watching how the mech bounces through the battlefields, you feel the name suits her well. So, you’ve lovingly named her Bunny. You nearly took off his head when he brought her back for repairs. The right fusion cannon had been entirely blown off, meaning you had to build a new one from scratch.

Did he care that building that cannon had caused you two sleepless nights? You doubt he’d care much if he knew. He’d probably say “Suck it up, buttercup. The enemy waits for no one.” So you grabbed your wrench and you sucked it up. As much as you hate to say it, the city does depend on him. Hell, the country kind of depends on him. It seems like too much for any one person.

You sigh and hoist yourself inside the mech to finish repairing the inside control panel. You and Jeongguk have been friends for as long as you can remember. It’s funny how you were once modifying his hoverboard when you were kids and now you’re fixing his mech as he comes home from yet another battle. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him. The boy, who was once carefree and blithe, now shoulders the responsibility of protecting an entire nation. You don’t know how he does it and honestly, you wish he didn’t have to.

Jeongguk taps on the thick glass of Bunny’s windshield. You were so immersed in the control panel, you didn’t hear him come in. Why is he here? You furrowed your brows at him as you opened the back hatch of the mech.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out taking pictures with your fans or something?” You say, sounding a little more bitter than you had intended.

He sighs, “Don’t be like that, y/n. The fame thing is annoying and overrated. I’ve told you a thousand times.”

“Whatever. Really though, I told you I’d call you when I’m done with repairs and updates. She’s nowhere near ready. I need at least another week.”

“Another week?” he whines, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance and move to get out of the mech. He holds out his hand as an offer to help you down and you take it. “Guk, what’s the rush? The Keishun probably won’t attack for at least another couple of months. You really need a break,”

“You know I can’t take a break. We barely won last time. The enemy is out there evolving and finding ways to become stronger. I have to stay a few steps ahead of them. My squad, this city, the country… They need me at my best. We can’t afford to lose. If I lose, than we lose everything. I’m not going to risk that.”

“Stopping putting all of this on yourself. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak. You’re only human, Jeon.”

He shrugs and says, “I know. I’ve got this.”

You know he’s not listening to what you’re saying. You sigh and give up on scolding him. It’s an old fight, you know it will come up again. He’s always worried about everyone else and never himself. It makes you so angry you could scream, but you won’t. Having been his friend for so long, you should probably learn to accept his fearless martyr attitude. But why should you have to accept it? It’s entirely unfair. While he’s off worrying about the rest of the world, someone needs to worry about him.

You turn your back to him and grab the large cable laying on the ground. You plug it into the main computer that programs the mech. You need to push this matter aside and focus on running program tests for Bunny.

“Can you please get in the mech and see if the right arm has decent mobility?” You say gently, without looking at him. You know that if you look at him right now, you might cry out of frustration and that will upset him. He has enough on his plate without worrying about you too.

“Alright.”

Once you hear the closing clicks from the back hatch of the mech, you allow yourself to turn around. The mech immediately comes to life around him and he’s fully focused on the task at hand. He does as you say and moves the right arm through a full range of motions. Somehow, he looks the most natural inside the mech. You can’t explain it.

Maybe it’s because you’re so used to seeing him in the mech. Somehow, it’s almost like Bunny has become a part of him. Maybe it’s the fluid way he pilots the mech. There’s never a hiccup or pause between his thoughts and the mech’s movements. He’s really an incredible pilot, you must admit. He never fails to leave you in awe. You’d never tell him this though. His ego is already much too big for your liking.

“She’s moving better than ever. The arm even feels lighter! How’d you do it?” He turns the mech towards you, excitement radiating through his smile. You can’t help but grin back, feeling your chest swell with pride. He did recognize your hard work.

“I’m glad you’ve noticed. I wanted to experiment with using carbon fiber material instead of the steel we have been using. It’s much lighter, but just as strong. We’ll see how this one holds up in battle and then I might replace the left cannon with the same material.”

He ejects himself from the mech to closer inspect the fusion cannon. Running his fingers along the bright green paint, he turns to you with a grin.

“This is fucking incredible, y/n. Do you know how much faster I can move? Imagine a whole meka made of this stuff. We’d be lethal!”

You laugh, “You already are lethal, but yeah. That’s the end goal. Even with just the cannons replaced, it’ll tone down the overall bulk of the mech. I’ve also been working on ways to narrow down the spread of the cannons so you can be more precise with your aim.”

“You really are brilliant, you know that?”

You smirked, “Obviously. You’d be screwed without me.”

“Honestly, I would be.”

You move around him and climb back into the mech. “Okay. Enough of the sappy shit, Jeon. Bunny and I have tests to finish running.”

“I can help, you know. It is my mech after all.”

You open your mouth to argue, but something on the computer monitor caught your eye. That can’t be right… An incoming enemy? You get out of the mech, scrambling to get a better look. The monitor flashes blood red and you can hear the shrill city sirens go off, signaling for the people of Busan to take cover. Four aircrafts are making their way towards the meka base.

“No, no, no. It’s too early. They attacked just last week. How do they have more omnics ready?”

Jeongguk had already pulled the heavy cable from Bunny and locked himself inside. His headset was on and he began checking each system to prepare for take off.

“Guk, no! Y-you're not ready. I’ll call the rest of the team. You have to sit this one out!” You say firmly, stepping in front of Bunny.

“We can’t wait for backup, y/n. The omnics will be in the city by then. I can’t let that happen. I’m going.” He looks at you fiercely and from that one look you know that you’ll never be able to talk him out of it. You feel your heart break as you step aside for him take off.

Soundlessly, you sit down at the monitor and slip on your headset. If he’s going to be an idiot and charge into battle, than you’re going to be there to talk him through it. There’s no way in hell you’re going to just sit on the sidelines and watch him get hurt. You quickly pull the radar onto the screen to find the direction the Keishun are heading.

“It looks like they’re heading north, towards Suyeong-gu.” Your voice cracks slightly as you say this.

If he recognized the hesitance in your words, he didn’t show it. “I’m on it. Boosters engaged!” He calls.

Without even a glance, he takes off from the meka base and toward the Keishun. You kept telling yourself not to cry. You have to stay focused right now, you don’t have time to cry. You pulled the mech’s dash camera on to the screen, this way you could see exactly what he sees. You also pulled up a screen from the mecha hud, in order to monitor Jeongguk’s vitals.

You watched as he soared through the sky. The enemy’s small dots on the radar grew closer and closer to Bunny’s. The aircrafts took form before the camera on the dash. They’re much smaller than you had expected, about half the size of a jet. However, you knew better than anyone not to dismiss the omnic based on the size of the aircraft. The body of the craft is flat and triangular with four cord like appendages spinning behind it. As stupid as it sounds, it reminds you a little of a mechanical squid.

The omnics spot Jeongguk immediately and aim a barrage of missiles toward him. The missiles streak through the sky at an unforgiving speed, but Jeongguk was a step ahead.

“Activating Defense Matrix.” You hear his voice through your headset, tone calm and even.

The missiles soar into the matrix and explode meters away from their obvious target. Jeongguk gave them no time to react before flying into an attack of his own. He wove through the sky and aimed his micro missiles at the nearest omnic, effectively removing it from the battle. The remaining three went separate ways; One retreating, one racing towards the meka base, and the last flew straight towards the city.

“Watch it, Guk! They’re splitting up.” You warn, voice tense.

“I see it!” He calls as he races toward the omnic retreating.

You don’t care what Jeongguk said, you’re calling Jimin for backup. You quickly type in the code to have the meka base system send for help. You pray Jimin will make it there in time.

 Bunny caught up to the enemy in mere seconds. Jeongguk flew above the omnic and shot it down from above. ‘Two down, two to go.’, you thought. Maybe you shouldn’t have signaled for Jimin to come. Just as you thought that, the Keishun omnic that was headed toward the base flipped around and headed straight for Bunny.

“Jeongguk! Behind you!” You cry, feeling your heart jump into your throat..

Caught of guard, he turned Bunny around just to be thrown in the midst of the enemy’s missile attack. He didn’t have enough time to activate his Defense Matrix, he’d have to try and dodge the oncoming missiles. He swerved sharply to the right, but he wasn’t fast enough to save Bunny’s left arm.

“Dammit.” He growled through clenched teeth. He aims for the Keishun using only his right fusion cannon. His bullets caught the enemy’s craft and the omnic fell from the sky.

“Y/n. Where’s the last one?”

“He’s headed toward the city. You’ll have to hurry.”

Jeongguk whipped the mech towards the city and sped off, pushing Bunny as fast as she could go. You could hear his bated breaths through the headset and his pleas for Bunny to make it there in time. Your chest felt tight and you thought you were going to puke. You gripped the desk fiercely, knuckles white, in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

With the last omnic in sight, Bunny unleashed an array of missiles and bullets toward the enemy. You’ve never seen Jeongguk miss a shot, never, but this time he missed. Something definitely feels off. You check Bunny’s hud for Jeongguk’s vitals and run a quick damage report on Bunny. Jeongguk is fine, but he had pushed Bunny too hard. Her boosters are beginning to fail, which is causing the mech to drag.  

“Guk, Jimin should be on-” The remaining omnic took you both by surprise. It turns it’s aim from the city and races toward Guk’s mech. He raises Bunny’s right fusion cannon to aim, but it’s too late. The omnic slams into Bunny and wraps it’s four tentacle-like arms around them. Jeongguk tries to aim the right fusion cannon towards the omnic, but the omnic was too strong and snapped the mech’s arm clean off. The Keishun was trying to crush the mech.

“Y/n. I need your help. I need you to override Bunny’s system.” His voice is calm and sure. If he’s afraid, you can’t tell.

“I-I can’t. You know that will cause her to self destruct.” You say. You didn’t realize you’ve been crying until you heard your voice crack. Dammit. This isn’t the time. You will yourself to pull it together.

“I’ll be fine, y/n. Trust me.” He tells you softly. To your right, you can see Jimin’s meka on the landing strip getting ready for take off. You quickly send Bunny’s coordinated to Jimin’s meka. He will be there soon. You just need to buy him a little time.

“I need you to buy me a few minutes to override the system. Can you do that, Jeon?” You’re lying through your teeth. You know each program on that mech like the back of your hand. You could do it in seconds, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Hell yeah, I can.”

He uses what’s left of Bunny’s left arm to swing at the omnic. You hear the sharp sound of crunching metal as he lands the hit.  He grabs his hand-held blaster from beside him, sticks his arm underneath Bunny’s windshield and fires at the omnics lower left arm. The metallic tentacle falls dead weight. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jimin’s mech take flight toward the city. So you begin to override the system.

“Alright, I’ve got it. You have sixty seconds until Bunny self destructs. Jimin will be there to catch you.”

“That’s not fast enough! We’ll be in the city by then. It’s gotta be now.” He says. You can hear the distinct clicks of the back hatch opening. You know exactly what he’s planning and your eyes widen with panic.

“Jeongguk, don’t you fucking dare.” You cry, vision blurring.

“I’ll be alright, y/n. I’ll see you soon, okay?” He didn’t give you any time to answer. He ejects himself from the mech, uses his blaster to take careful aim at Bunny’s core and fires.

You run to the window in time to see a green light flash across the sky. You know somewhere Jeongguk has fallen into the water bellow.

_____________________________________

Jeongguk can only remember small fragments of events after the initial blast. He remembers briefly fighting against the water with his lungs burning and his legs heavy. He remembers a bright light shining down on him and people shouting as the waves lapped against his listless aching body. He remembers your warm hand grasping his as he was being wheeled along under fluorescent lights. He could here your pleas for him to hold on. He wished he weren’t so tired. He wished he could squeeze your hand back and tell you he was alright.

The lights were bright and they make his eyes ache. He wishes someone would turn them off, or at least dim them. Jeongguk turns his head to the side and finds you curled up in a chair, staring out the window. He wonders what you’re thinking about. He swallows harshly, lips and throat feeling dry.

“Hey.” You hear him say, voice hoarse and tired.

You reply with a soft ‘Hi’, attention still on the street bellow. You feel exhausted. You haven’t been able to sleep since he’s been in the hospital. The doctors have offered you a bed and pills to help you fall asleep, but you don’t want them. You wanted to be here when he woke up. Now, you’re really not sure why. You’d cried all day yesterday, how do you still have anything left?

Nonetheless, you felt tears spill down your cheeks. You really don’t want him to see you cry. He hates it when you cry.

“How long have I been out?” He asks, wincing as he moved to sit up. His arms and back are still so sore. He wonders how far he fell.

“Two days, not too long.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Are you crying? God, please don’t cry. You have the ugliest crying face.” He teases you, hoping to ease the tension surrounding the room.

You turn toward him feeling absolutely furious. Standing up, you march to his bedside and deliver a sharp smack to the back of his head.

“Ow, what the hell is the matter with you?” He rubs his head glaring at you.

“What the hell is the matter with YOU? Do you know what it’s been like fucking waiting here while you were in surgery? While you’ve been sleeping? This whole thing could have been prevented if you’d just let someone help you, but God forbid you let someone else steal your fucking spotlight. You run headfirst into these life or death situations without thinking of the consequences and I’m fucking sick of it. I never should’ve let you go out there alone. I should’ve locked Bunny down and made your dumbass wait for backup. Never again, Jeongguk. I swear. I’ll never let anything like this happen again…” Your eyes are brimmed with tears and burning with a kind of anger Jeongguk has never seen from you.

“Do you really think I did all that for a headline or two?” He sounded sincerely hurt and you almost felt bad for implying that.

“I don’t know, Jeongguk. I can’t figure out if you’re extremely selfish or just stupidly selfless. All I know is that I can’t watch you kill yourself.”

“I'm not gonna die, y/n. Jesus. Will you please-”

“I love you too much for that. I….I don’t think I can be your mechanic anymore.” You cut him off, tone much softer than before. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now and you wish it hadn’t come down to this, but it feels like it has too. You can’t watch him destroy himself with his reckless decisions.

“Y/n…..I can’t do this without you. This isn’t about fame, it never has been. I just want to protect this country and everyone I love. I’ll admit, I should have waited for backup. I pushed Bunny to hard and I destroyed her. I did it to protect everyone, not for the fame. Please, I need you there…” Ignoring the plea of his body to stay resting, he leaned forward and took your hand.

You couldn’t look at him right now because you know you’d give him anything he wanted if you did. You muffled a sob with your other hand. Why does he have to make this so difficult for you?

He tugged you closer to him with a grimace and you didn’t put up a fight. You know you should have, but you couldn’t. Not when you heard the break in his voice as he whispered ‘come here’. He pulled you close and felt the sobs you had been fighting rake through your body. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat and held you as close he possibly could.

“I know I’m reckless. I know I don’t think things through like I should, but I can try to be more careful. I'll take a break even. I just…. I didn’t know it upset you so much. Please, y/n. Just stay.”

“I'm sorry, Jeongguk. I-I'm so sorry.”

You tried to pull away, but he just held you even tighter. You felt his tears soak through the shoulder of your shirt. Why are you so weak? Your mind was screaming at you to get up and leave, but you just couldn't. Not with him choking out hysterical apologies and clinging to you the way he is. The dam was broken now and every little emotion that he had held back was hitting him full force. You couldn’t leave him like this. Your resolve was crumbling fast, but it didn’t matter anymore.

You laid down next to him and he clung to you. You ran your fingers through his hair while he cried. His shaky breath began to slow down and you knew he was falling asleep. You let your mind wonder.

Maybe, you could stay. Maybe, he meant what he said and he just didn’t know how seriously this affected you and those around him. Maybe, you’re just thinking too hopefully. Maybe, you’re just exhausted and incapable of making any kind of decisions right now.

“I love you, Guk.” you whispered to him. You doubt he heard it.

Your eyes felt too heavy to keep open and you let yourself finally drift into sleep.

___________________________________

You were gone when he woke up. He should've been able to predict that, but it still stung. He'd hoped that maybe you would change your mind, as selfish as that sounds. Maybe he should listen to you. He’s been in battles much worse, but this time around even he couldn't deny that he had taken it too far.

Did he really expect to be able to live a long and healthy life like this? You're right and he knew it. It's just hard to understand the reality of the situation. He needed to make some changes. It seemed dramatic when you said it, but it's true. He's killing himself and he can't keep it up anymore.

He tapped the button to call the nurses in. His head was pounding and he wasn't sure if it was the injuries or the thoughts swirling around his skull. He wandered where his phone was, if someone would bring it to him. He's ready to give up piloting mekas for good if that's what it took to keep you there. None of it really mattered if you weren't by his side. He loves you and it’s time for him to tell you.

[trans-shuichisaihara]

fake it till (we) make it - Scene 2

have i mentioned that i love kokichi? he’s such a little shit and i love that

(read on ao3)

Once his scattered mind begins to calm down, his first response is to shout, “What the hell’re you talking about?!”

Kokichi blinks at him, light fluttering of his eyelashes. “I meannnn, let’s fuck around with the tabloids and stuff. I’m bored and they all annoy me to no end, so I wanna pull a prank on them.”

Okay, he gets that, but- “Why with me?!”

“Becaaause,” he sighs out, “Everyone except Shuichi sucks and he’s going on tour next week. Plus he’s just a terrible actor. You at least have that going for you.” He then grins. “Plus, people eat shit like this up - you know, where the hero and the villain get together? That’s a really popular trope.”

“Dude, that was one time! And what happens when we have to film the sequel?!”

“You act as if this’ll last that long; it’s only gonna be like, maybe a month or two at max.”

A bead of sweat rolls down his face. “If it’s gonna be that short, then why can’t you find someone else?!”

Kokichi raises a brow at him. “Like who? No one would be thrilled to and you know it.”

“Well, uh-” He sputters. C’mon, there has to be someone- “What, what about that one guy, uh, Rantaro Amami?” There’d been some sort of rumor about them once, right?

“Taken. He’s a model anyway, always busy running around in a different circle. Only met him because his girlfriend was working on one of my sets designing outfits.” He sighs loudly, propping his chin on his hand. “He is really cute though...”

“Okay, uh, well...” He trails off awkwardly, trying to think of some other answer to give him. “What the hell do I get out of this? I’m not gonna ruin my reputation or anything just ‘cause you wanna screw around.”

“We’re not gonna fuck, so don’t worry about that.” Kaito has to bite back a reaction to the likely purposefully wrong interpretation of his words. “And I know people think I suck, but pretending to date me isn't going to ruin your rep, so...” He pauses for a long moment, before grinning as wide as he can. “You should just man up and help me prove the media is stupid as hell. I mean, I’m sure you hate them too, and you’re not scared of them, riiiight?”

Fuck. “Like hell I am,” he growls, massaging his temples, “I’ll do it, alright? You happy?”

He nods, grin still plastered across his face. “Yep! See you after your beauty rest, babe!” He winks and blows him a kiss.

An uncomfortable feeling immediately fills him. “Never call me that ever again and maybe I’ll sleep nightmare-free.”

“No promises!” He sings and turns away from Kaito before an argument can start, flopping back down on the couch and pulling out his phone to end all further conversation. He shakes his head and leaves Kokichi be; he has shit to do this evening, he needs at least some rest before his manager starts blowing up his phone asking where he is.

Stardom sucks when no one trusts your ability to get yourself dressed and show up with enough time for the makeup crew to do their thing.

He locks his bedroom door - just in case Kokichi decides he’s bored enough that he’s going to come and pester him more - before closing his curtains tightly to block out the morning sun that’ll soon rise. He then lies in bed for at least half an hour, despite his desire to just pass out into the realm of sleep.

Unfortunately, the tension building in his mind from his sudden deal with Kokichi makes it hard to do such a thing.

He can’t stop thinking about how the world will react to them dating. He’s not scared, it’s just- Even if it’s fake, no one would know that until it’s over, and even then it’s doubtful anyone would believe it. That’s just how fans were. He runs his hands down his face, exasperated with Kokichi, but also with himself; why the hell’d he just let himself get dragged into this?

His sleep ends up being restless, broken apart by frequent reawakening and his phone buzzing insistently. He isn’t in the mood to deal with whatever they need, so he throws his pillow over his head and ignores it.

After an unsatisfying 6 hours of sleep, he wakes up for real a bit before noon, body sluggish as he showers and throws on some shorts and a tee. He idly checks his texts as he’s making his way downstairs, astounded at the mess that was created while he slept.

Kokichi Owoma @real_ouma tweeted:

hanging out with the bae @kaitomomota #firstdate

Along with the heart emojis following the message, attached is that dumb selfie he wanted to take, which makes Kaito wonder if that was his goal all along. He pinches the bridge of his nose; the tweet already has well over 10 thousand likes and nearly half as many retweets, along with a fair number of replies. Most of them calling B.S. on it, which is a bit relieving.

He’s about to check the rest of his texts when he notices that Kokichi didn’t leave after he went to bed. Instead, he passed out on the couch, one of Kaito’s space-patterned comforters that he’s almost positive was in his bedroom closet pulled around him tightly. He’s tempted to wake him up and scold him for informing the world without permission, but he can’t be bothered. A sleeping Kokichi is a quiet Kokichi, after all.

He turns his attention back to his phone. Most of his texts are from his friends that have seen the tweet and are informing him of its existence. He doesn’t really post on his twitter, so it’s understandable that they would feel the need to let him know.

His manager is trying to give him advice for dealing with dealing with false rumors and offering to help make a public statement to shut it down, which causes him to sigh. If he has to guess, this looks like Kokichi attempting to stop him from backing out, and it works; it’d be more of a hassle to deny the rumors than to play along, after all.

He honestly doesn’t want to deal with any of this celebrity shit. He just wants to star in cool sci-fi films and be able to afford living in L.A. where all his friends are.

So, instead of answering any of the texts, he takes a picture of Kokichi sleeping for blackmail or something, then grabs his leftovers out of the fridge and tosses it in the microwave. He then sits down, pulling up the tweet again before making the decision to retweet it without any comments. Before he can regret it, he turns the notifications on his phone off and sets it aside, instead starting to make a grocery list for his upcoming trip to the store.

He’s contemplating getting them delivered instead when his lunch finishes with a loud beep, followed by a thud from the other room. He holds back a sigh; the silence he desired didn’t last nearly long enough.

“Huh?” In the living room, Kokichi hauls himself up, hair sticking up all over the place as he blinks sleep out of his eyes. In the time it takes him to grab a plate and dump his heated meal onto it, he reaches fully awake status and hurries into the kitchen to bother him. “Oh, you’re finally up!” His own phone is in his hands as he sits down in the chair next to his. “Did you see the-” For a moment, his face goes flat, before bouncing back to excited. “Oh, you retweeted it! Did you like it too?”

“Nah,” he answers, shoveling a bite of food into his mouth. After swallowing, he continues with, “By the way, thanks for that; had everyone and their mother blowing up my phone while I was sleeping.”

“You’re welcome!” He doesn’t miss a beat as he scrolls through the comments. “Hmm, it’s gonna take a lot of work to convince everyone. Care if I post about you getting ready for your day?”

“I do, actually; that’s really fuckin’ weird and won’t convince anyone of anything except that you’re a creep.”

He pouts. “Fine. But we really should talk about how we’re gonna do this.”

He scratches at the stubble along his jaw. “I guess. I’m not gonna make any gushy tweets or anything like that, before you ask.”

He hums. “Wasn’t gonna suggest anything like that. Let’s say... We’ve been officially dating for two weeks, keeping things on the down low, before we decided to come out about it last night.”

He coughs as an epiphany hits him. Fuck, he has to deal with that aspect of the media on him. “Dammit, I didn’t even think about that part. The media’s gonna be all over me for being, for being gay! Which, well, you know, isn’t a bad thing to be, but-” He can’t exactly say he isn’t when he went through that whole shebang in college, but he wasn’t wanting the world to know that.

Kokichi shrugs. “It was going to happen eventually. I mean, people have been suspecting you are since at least last winter due to the vague gay subplot going on in your latest film.”

Kaito’s forehead falls into his hand, covering his eyes. “God, can’t people tell the difference between fiction and reality anymore? That’s a fucking character-”

Kokichi’s phone rings, cutting him off. The two of them look towards it, Kokichi quirking a brow. “Oh, it’s Toujou, one sec.” He turns away from Kaito and answers the call with an obnoxiously fake shout of, “Good morning, Mom!”

Kaito rolls his eyes; he doesn’t know how Kokichi can address Director Kirumi Toujou like that. She’s scary intense when on set. He’s worked with her for two movies - both of them great, but both of them grueling to film due to her perfectionism and no-nonsense aura. He can hardly believe she’s only two years older than them with how huge the difference in maturity is.

To avoid eavesdropping on his conversation, Kaito gets up and begins to clean up his lunch and what remains of what was technically their breakfast, seeing as Kokichi didn’t bother to. He doesn’t mind doing household chores like this, honestly; he had to do them regularly while living with his grandparents. He’s faintly aware of eyes in his back as he tears up the pizza box to fit into his trash can and moves to begin washing the handful of dishes in the sink.

Finally, a loud sigh sounds from the other side of the kitchen, and he pauses to give him a glance. His phone is facedown, so the conversation is likely over. “What happened?”

“She wants me to come in today. Apparently, one of the cameramen screwed up on the shot we did a few days ago and she just noticed it and it’s bugging her. Important scene and all that.” He waves his hand. Kaito feels sorta bad for him; all scenes were important scenes to her, so this was likely not an actual emergency.

“Just one scene, right? Hopefully you won’t be there too long, then.” One scene could still take hours, but it’s still likely to be shorter than a full session.

“Dunno. You know how it is.” He stands, stretching. “Welp, good luck with your day. Interview tonight, right?”

“Damn, yeah.” He shuts the water off, drying his hands as Kokichi looks around for his car keys. “You know they’re gonna be all over me because of your tweet.”

“Good. Play along. If they ask you who made the first move, I asked you out, and you accepted because I’m ‘kinda cute’ - those exact words. If they ask, ‘only kinda?’, you respond by seeming embarrassed.” He finally locates and plucks up his keys from the ground in front of the sofa, almost hidden by the blanket draped along the side of the couch and onto the floor. “Honestly, it should be too easy to fool them.”

He has a whole script ready, huh. “Man, who died and made you director?”

“Unfortunately, no one; the universe isn't that kind as to rid the world of any of them,” he dramatically says, before he shakes his head and returns to a more neutral tone, “Anyway, I'll be back tonight; we can discuss the schematics of our act then. Don't say anything unnecessary, be vague, they can fill in any gaps themselves. Got it?”

He responds by shooing Kokichi out of his house. “Yeah yeah, don't worry. It'll be fine; I'm not stupid.”

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Good afternoon, guys!! So, we’re almost 2/5 into this longer season! How are we all feeling? Thank you guys so much as always for reading, and I know I’ve been shitty at the translations, I’m going to do my best to get those updated as soon as possible. RL + Cuba v DR leaves me very little time to eat or sleep, but I swear I will get to it!! In just five days, we’ll be having our next giveaway!!

EPISODE 15

Nevada stood in the Green room of the club late that night, watching as Omar and Jose brought in the last of the gun haul they would be moving with the bikers in just a few days. With their warehouses under watch, the club was the safest place for their contraband until the new police captain fell in line with all the other cops Trujillo had on his payroll. But since the man was fresh in the precinct, Nevada knew he would want to make his mark as the captain that would change the Heights and would be waiting for Nevada and his men to make a mistake.

Not on my watch, pendejo, Nevada thought to himself with a smirk.

They’d closed two the VIP rooms for “repairs,” which hadn’t sat well with the strippers at first, but Nevada always took care of his girls and had offered them all an additional thousand bucks an hour. With the escort business in Harlem doing so well, he could afford it easily without taking money out of anyone’s pocket except his own, which he would make back tenfold once this load of guns were delivered.

His phone rang and Nevada reached into his pocket as Omar brought in the final crate and answered. “Si?”

“Heads up, man, the new captain’s hardon is pointed right at the club,” Reyes said in a hushed voice, obviously still at the precinct and being careful to not be overheard.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Nevada growled.

“I wish. Think he’s hoping to find illegal girls or prostitution going on there.”

He wouldn’t find either of those, that much Nevada knew for certain. He was always careful to vet every girl to make sure they were of age and legal citizens, and if he had ever caught wind of any of his girls selling pussy on the side, that girl would not only lose her job, but she’d also lose her head. The businesses Nevada kept were always legitimate on paper as well as in their operational practice. The only illegal activity was the dirty money being laundered through that business.

What the chief would find, however, were twenty five crates filled to the brims with semi-automatics and assault rifles, all illegal and all carrying a prison sentence of up to seven years for each weapon.

“Fuck,” Nevada spat. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning. He’s getting a search warrant from an old college buddy of his,” Reyes answered.

“Alright, thanks for the heads up,” Nevada replied. “I’ll make sure you get a little extra something this week.”

“You got it.”

Hanging up his phone, he looked up at Omar again. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“Jesus Christ, what?”

“Fucking new captain’s coming in the morning to search this mother fucker, we gotta get rid of these,” Nevada answered.

“Fuck you,” Omar groaned as he tossed his head back.

Nevada dialed Josiah as he spoke to Omar. “Yeah, I know, bro. This guy’s a fucking pain in my asshole already. Chibby better find some dirt on this scrubby fuck before I make some dirt.”

“What is it with this guy’s hardon for you? You’re not that good looking,” Omar teased with a smirk.

“You know you’d suck my dick if I asked you nicely,” Nevada joked right back, putting the phone to his ear.

“Fuck that, I’d make you my bottom bitch,” Omar chortled, earning a laugh from Nevada.

“Si?” Josiah answered.

“Oye, we gotta bring some hardware over to Hechicera for the night,” Nevada said.

“How much space you need?”

“A room would probably be fine. Twenty-five packages, all heavy hitters,” Nevada answered.

“Yeah, I can open a room for you. Gonna need some gratitude for the tenant.”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. We’ll be there in a couple hours,” Nevada replied, hanging up. “Alright let’s start getting this shit back into the van. We’re gonna take it to Harlem.”

Omar sighed, nodding his head before he lifted a crate and took it back to the van.

“I’m gonna update the girls and then I’ll come help you,” Nevada said, going to the main room of the club.

He looked around for an available dancer, which on a Saturday, especially in the heavy hours of the evening, was a tall order. The club tended to draw in an endless supply of customers on the weekends, from the morning to the wee hours of the night. He saw Lola--a tiny yet curvy woman with mocha skin that would make any man’s mouth water and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of--standing by the bar, obviously on her break since she spoke only to Barry and wore a silk robe around her lingerie. Coming up behind her, Nevada slid a hand over her hip and brought his mouth to the skin just beneath her earlobe.

“Tell the girls the VIP rooms will be open in two hours,” he purred.

“Aww,” she replied, feigning a pout and she arched her hips to rub against his groin suggestively. “No more extra thousand an hour?” she teased, turning her head towards him.

“Coño, mami, you’ve already been here four hours plus two more I’m giving you. Six grand ain’t enough?” he replied with a smirk.

She turned in place and slid her hands over his chest as she looked up at him from beneath her thick lashes. “A night with you would be better.”

He smirked. “You gotta talk to my wife about that.”

She grinned up at him. “I’ll let everyone know.”

“Good girl,” he replied, dipping his head to give her a peck on the lips before he went back into the green room to help Omar.

“You know, we got guys that could do this,” Omar said as he lifted another crate.

“Nah, we gotta take care of this from start to finish. Too risky using low-level guys, especially with this new captain. We gotta be smart,” Nevada answered. “Sides, you’re starting to get a dad-bod. You could use a work out.”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” Omar chuckled as he and Nevada carried crate after crate to the van parked in the alley behind the club.

Once they had all the guns out of the VIP rooms, Nevada handed Omar the keys. “Josiah’s waiting on you already, and just make sure to give his girl six grand for the room.”

“Alright,” Omar replied.

“Oye, take the back streets, stay off Amsterdam,” Nevada said.

“You got it.”

Jose leaned back against the bar in the club the next morning as the cops walked out empty-handed. Nevada had dealt with overzealous cops before, but none as hungry as this new captain. This one wouldn’t stop until Nevada was in cuffs, especially with elections coming up in a few months. Putting away a major player in the drug and gun trade would catapult anyone’s career and Jose wasn’t sure Nevada would be able to worm his way out of this Captain’s sights.

He could always spot something out of place in the club. That meant he saw the six-foot brown haired kid he helped raise from a mile away. Eddie strode into the club in a way that made it clear he had no idea how to behave in such a place. When his eyes met Jose’s, the boy made a quick beeline to him.

“Slow down, bumble bee. What’s up?” Jose asked.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Eddie said.

“Okay...so talk,” Jose answered. “Outside.”

Eddie nodded and the two moved outside of the club. There was a moment of silence as Eddie seemed to gather his thoughts and ran his fingers through his hair.

“So…Greyson and I are moving to Miami.”

Jose’s brows shot up on his forehead. “Shit. When?”

“I'm not sure yet, but soon.”

“That’s great. Good for you, kid,”Jose replied with a smile.

Eddie looked down at his feet for a long time before finally speaking again. “I want you to come with me…”

“That’s not happening,” Jose answered, shaking his head. “The hell am I supposed to do in Miami anyway? My life is here.”

Eddie's face fell. He knew it was a long shot, but he'd held out hope for a miracle.  “You've been with me my whole life...I guess I was just hoping.”

“You’re not a kid anymore, mijo,” Jose replied. “You don’t need anybody to take care of you. You’re a grown man now.”

Eddie nodded.“I know but, I'll miss you, ya know?”

“I’ll miss you too,” Jose replied. “You’ll be okay. I think it’s good you’re getting away from all this.”

“Me too,” Eddie said. “I'm afraid I don't know who I am without my family. I need to find out.”

“Yeah, you do.” Jose looked up in time to see an unmarked police cruiser posted across the street. “The sooner, the better if you ask me,” he added in a mumble.

Eddie looked at the car as well, moving to hug Jose. “You were my first best friend. I won't forget that.”

“I love you, too, kid,” Jose replied, patting Eddie on the back. He never had been one for physical affection, even with someone he thought the world of. “You’ll be fine. Just do yourself a favor and stay far away from people like us.”

Eddie smiled, “I'll see what I can do.”

“Good. You gonna go to school down there?” Jose asked.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah I'm looking at schools but probably University of Miami.”

“That’s a tough school to get into. Expensive too. You should check FIU, my cousin went there. Said it’s a good school.”

Eddie nodded and smiled. “Thanks.” He looked nervous, he wanted to start this new chapter, but even contemplating leaving had been hard. Everyone was so supportive and happy for him. It made him wonder if he'd even be missed.

“You gotta let your tio know where you land so I can come see you. Get down to Miami beach and grab me a nice tan,” Jose teased.

“Guys in Miami aren't half bad, ya know.” Eddie smirked and shrugged casually.

“How do you know? You’ve never been there,” Jose replied with a smirk.

“I've seen the brochures. We could find you someone nice, stable, easy going, just like you,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a laugh. “Maybe a nice Mormon boy.”

Jose shook his head. “No, no...the only guys I look for are pieces of ass. One and done. I don’t do that whole bullshit fairytale of thinking I could have a family. You kidding me? He’d be dead or gone inside a week.”

“Cause you do that dangerous shit. Get a better job.”

Jose arched a brow. “I like my job. Pays good, good hours...besides I didn’t go to college, what am I gonna do? Work some minimum wage job, bust my ass 12 hours a day for peanuts?”

“I worry about you. Minimum wage is better than dying.”

“We’re all gonna die someday,” Jose answered with a shrug. “That’s life. Everybody’s got their day.”

Eddie thought for a moment before nodding. “That's true, I guess.”

“But you don’t gotta worry about that,” Jose replied, patting Eddie on the shoulder. “Greyson happy?”

“Yeah he really is. Wants a new start, ya know?”

“Yeah, I don’t blame him,” Jose answered. “It’ll be good for you both.”

Eddie smiled before looking at his phone. “Shit, I gotta go, I gotta head to class but...can we hang out, just us before I go?”

“Yeah, we can probably work something out,” Jose answered.

Eddie nodded before he gave Jose a wave and started to walk towards the subway.

Rafael sat near the window of the cafe down the street from his mother’s apartment, using an index finger to idly trace over the rim of his cup. He heard the bell ring at the front of the shop and looked up as Lucia searched for him. When she met his eyes, he offered a hesitant smile and stood as she came towards him.

She sat down and Rafael sighed heavily. Usually she would kiss his cheek whenever she saw him, except when she was angry with him. “Okay...I guess you’re still upset.”

She quirked a brow. “Could you blame me?”

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. “No, I guess not,” he mumbled. Running a hand through his hair, he looked up at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I thought it would work itself out before I had to tell you...and I guess I was just so ashamed. I still am.”

“I know my son, you didn't do anything. Y/N was my wild child, not you,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Mijo, when you have a problem, you come home. You don't run off and hide from your family, me entiendes?”

Rafael nodded once. “I was embarrassed. I’m usually so aware of people’s intentions or at least paranoid about their behavior when it raises red flags.” He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “There were so many with Abby, I just chose to ignore them.”

Lucia listened carefully. “You're not going to catch them all, mijo. But you can't take everything on alone. Soy tu mama, you can always come to me.”

“I know,” he mumbled, staring at the dark liquid in his mug, which was likely already cold by then. “I’m sorry.”

Lucia moved to him and kissed his cheek. “Esta bien.”

He let a moment of silence pass between them and pushed his coffee cup away. “So what’s been going on the last two weeks? Anything exciting?”

“Nada, things have been slow.”

He furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Quiet, nothing new. Is Roxie enjoying the second trimester? You know I had heartburn all through my pregnancy with you, mijo.”

“She’s doing great, no heartburn. A little bit of leg cramping and a sore back every once in a while,” he answered. “We’ve started talking about names.”

“Ah si? What names did you like?”

“We’ve thrown a few around, haven’t really settled on one just yet,” he replied. “We’re gonna have a list people can see at the reveal party.”

“Si, I got the invitation. No te preocupes, I’ll be there. Oye, I’d like to bring Gladys, is that alright?” she asked.

He smiled at her and nodded. “Yeah, of course that’s alright. We’d love to have her there.”

The waitress came over and Rafael ordered a fresh coffee after Lucia had ordered one for herself. A comfortable silence settled between them as they waited for their drinks. When they got their beverages, Lucia stirred some creamer into her coffee and added sugar.

“Have you talked to your sister?” she asked carefully.

“No,” he answered, taking a sip from his fresh cup. “And she hasn’t reached out either.”

“You two need to talk this out, Mijo.”

“She’s the one that doesn’t want to talk to me and beyond that, mami, I’m tired of her loyalty coming with conditions. I’m always the one trying to mend fences with her. So this time, she can reach out to me with the olive branch,” he answered.

“Mijo, I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. We've all said something we don't mean once in a while.”

“I’m not gonna talk about this,” he replied. “What happened to make her so angry was a mistake and she treated it like I purposely did something to hurt Lily. And then she betrayed my trust because she was angry. I can’t keep forgiving her for the same thing over and over and then pretend like it never happened.”

Lucia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Si, okay.”

“Mami where we go?” NJ asked as you buckled him into the car seat next to his sister the following day.

“We're going to the arcade, my love. You'll like it.” You nodded to Fiona who loved to help buckle the seatbelt. “We are going to have a great time at the arcade as soon as papi--oh there he is,” you smiled as Nevada stepped out onto the street from the apartment building with Lily who needed a last minute bathroom emergency.

Lily ran to the car, smiling. “Mami, can I have a hundred dollars?”

“What do I look like, an ATM?” you teased, ruffling your daughter’s hair as she climbed into the SUV. “Buckle up, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied. “Are we gonna go out to eat after?”

“Yeah, if you want,” you answered.

Nevada got into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. “You don’t think the twins are too little for the arcade?”

“Probably, but they’ll get a kick out of the skeeball machines,” you replied, settling in the passenger’s seat.

Fiona pointed to Lily until the older girl buckled her seatbelt. Then she pointed to Nevada. “Papi, buckle,” she insisted.

You grinned as you buckled your own seatbelt. “My very own seatbelt police officer,” you said. “Alright, everyone ready?”

“No,” the twins echoed together. Nevada chuckled under his breath as he turned on the car and drove three blocks down, where he turned the corner and pulled up to the arcade.

“That was a short ride,” Lily observed. “Why didn’t we walk?”

“Cause your mother doesn’t like to sweat after she fixes her hair,” Nevada answered with a smirk. “She’s too pretty to sweat.” He got out of the SUV and opened Lily’s door, keeping his eye on the road to be sure there were no approaching cars. “Dale, get on the sidewalk.”

She hopped out, you and the twins all following suit. “Alright, now hold Lily's hand,” you instructed the twins.

As the five of you walked into the arcade, Nevada pulled out his phone to check his messages. Captain Asshole should have already served his warrant at the club and considering that none of their gun haul would be there, Nevada was anxious to know whether the new Captain would have a next move. More importantly, he wanted to know what that next move would be. Being on parole, the last this he needed was to get pinched on illegal gun possession.

“What do we do now?” Lily asked, eying all of the games, most of which were too tall for her to reach.

“Now we start off with skeeball. Think you and the twins can beat mami and papi?” you asked with a smirk.

The twins both looked at the machine.

“Mami what do?” NJ asked as he pointed to the machine.

You knelt down, putting coins into the machine as you heard the familiar clunk of the balls dropping into the dispenser. You grabbed one and rolled it up into the 100 points hold. “You roll it into the holes, papi,” you said and handed each of them a ball. Fiona rolled it up into the 10 point mark. Smiling at you for reassurance as you nodded. “Ay que bueno, mami!” You kissed her cheek.

NJ threw a ball overhand and hit the plastic cover, earning a laugh from Nevada as he stood to the side, before continuing to look through his phone.

“Me next,” Lily said, tossing a ball that didn’t quite make it all the way up to the slots, rolling back down towards her.

“You bad,” Fiona said, tossing another ball and also missing the marks.

“Well you suck,” Lily replied with a grin.

“Lily we don't say suck,” you said as you moved to put a quarter in your own machine. You tossed a ball, missing, purposely for the kid’s benefit.

“I do,” Lily giggled.

Fiona and NJ sat down with another ball and rolled it back and forth to each other instead of playing the machine while Lily continued to try and make points.

You smiled watching the twins before moving back to Nevada. “Wanna give it a go, papi?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Nevada sent another text to Chibby as he held his hand out for a ball. You put one in his hand and he stepped up to the machine, looking up from his phone long enough to see where the slots were before he turned his eyes back to his screen and tossed the ball. Despite his attention being elsewhere, he sank the ball into the 100 points slot as he stepped away again.

“This fucker’s not gonna stop,” he mused, shaking his head. “He’s gonna stay on our asses till he gets something to stick, I know it.”

“You sure you can’t pay him off?” you offered, genuinely trying to help.

“You don’t think I already tried? This fucker’s got something to prove,” he replied. “He’s one of the honest ones.”

“I wish I knew how to help,” you said sympathetically and rubbed his back. “What's the next step then? Have him removed?”

“What are you nuts? That’ll bring way too much heat,” Nevada replied. “We just gotta keep dodging him until he gets bored with us and hope he doesn’t get one of his buddies in City Hall to do him a favor and shut us down just for shits.”

You nodded. “Any luck finding the senator?”

“No, that’s another one that’s a pain in my ass,” he replied, sighing heavily.

You nodded, kissing his cheek. “It'll work out,” you said.

“Maybe,” he mumbled.

“Anything I can do?” you offered as you threw a skeeball up to the 100 mark before turning back to him with a smirk. This reminded you of your first date together.

“No, stay out of it. Both of us getting pinched won’t do these three any good,” he replied softly, shaking his head. “You’re not in my crew, just stay out it.”

You frowned. “I was just trying to help, I didn't mean with anything illegal,” you murmured before turning and moving back over to the kids.

“What exactly were you gonna do to help that’s not illegal? Tell me.”

“Nevada, I don't want to fight, I was trying to be supportive,” you replied.

“Do me a favor, be supportive some other way. You don’t wanna know all this shit that I do,” he said. “And I’m not trying to fight either, stop trying to make me look like I’m treating you shitty. I’m just talking to you.”

You just sighed, kneeling down to play with Lily.

“Unbelievable,” Nevada mumbled to himself as he called Chibby.

“This is Chibby.”

“Oye, tell me when the pigs are outta the barn, si? And do me a favor, get in touch with Reyes and see if he knows what this guy’s next move is,” Nevada said.

“Chibby is on it, young Jefe.”

Nevada hung up and looked down at the twins. “Oye, you guys want some candy?”

You picked up the twins, who were cheering for candy as Lily ran right to the concession stand on her own.

“We gotta tell these kids the story of La Llorona. They run off by themselves all the time. What the hell is wrong with them?” Nevada said before calling out to Lily. “Oye! Get back here! You don’t run away from mami and papi, me entiendes?”

Lily came back with a roll of her eyes. “Papi, you can see me.”

“It doesn’t matter. It only takes a second for something to happen. I don’t care that we can see you, you don’t step away from us. And roll your eyes at me again, mira ver,” he answered.

She nodded as she came back to where you guys were still standing. “Lo siento, papi.”

“Alright. Come on, let’s go get some candy,” he replied, putting a hand on her shoulder as the five of you walked to the cantine.

[imaginaryculturepress-blog]

In which we launch the first-ever Tales from the Pit story/review, and Why Even Try Launch “More Than”.

Hi, hello, and welcome!

My name is Skyler and the story I'm about to tell you shall include approximately twenty thousand words of insignificant information that's definitely not aimed at increasing my website traffic. ... Definitely not... ...Anyway... I'm trying to make this a regular type of post, as with all things on this blog; a sort of "concert story", if you will. It’ll mainly include photographer-orientated content such as issues that occurred whilst shooting, though I’ll attempt to add as much crowd and band information as possible. Perhaps now that I've gained the idea, I ought to start shooting a few things around the venue and whatnot to add to these posts. Maybe train stations and car rides with a Tumblr-esque theme, stray dogs and freeways at peak hour, and whatever else is deemed suitable. I needed a name for this segment, though, something memorable and preferably a reference of sorts. So I did what any Five Finger Death Punch fan would do and turned to their extensive catalogue of music to find something even remotely similar to my requirements. And then I realised: they have a live album called Purgatory: Tales from the Pit. I didn't feel  "Purgatory" was the best heading, but "Tales from the Pit" had a nice ring to it. Shorten it to TFTP and you've really got something. Sort of. So I suppose we should restart this. Hi, hello, and welcome to Tales from the Pit! *Include all the above nonsense that did nothing more than waste your time and increase my Google search rankings. * ... Let's cut to the chase, shall we? T'was the Wednesday before the With Con show when I found myself at a fish and chips shop, surrounded by drunk dudes and dogs. There were VBs on a table and a pregnant American Bulldog wagging its tail, making me question all my life decisions. Why was I at this place? Why am I a concert photographer? Why does nobody tour in Perth? What is the impact of the dog’s pregnancy on the Australian economy? Etcetera. I had one show coming up, the aforementioned one, this Saturday at Red Lighting Paradise (HQ). Plus a potential Placebo show at Perth Arena. (It later turned out that the Placebo pass was all mine. It also turned out that the concert was cancelled. Read more on that here.) But besides that, I was free and bored out of my mind. That’s the thing about concert photography; you’re either working until your brain explodes - shooting, emailing, arguing with the Internet, editing - or sitting around sending press requests. Or blogging. (School disclaimer: yes, I also study… …when I’ve no editing to work on…) And considering that in the last six months I’ve only covered nine shows and almost Placebo, that’s a lot of wasted – sorry, school-orientated - time. (Update: another show happened last Friday, Homebrand's "Shelf" launch show.) I soon returned home to a stable wifi connection to find a photographer’s favourite message: “Would you be able to cover our launch show this Friday? Sorry for the late notice!” T’was from one of my favourite local acts, Why Even Try, known for their (positively) insane sets and marvellous music. Supporting them were Grey States, Shedhead, and Crown Loser, three bands I hadn’t previously photographed but was extremely excited for. The late notice didn’t bother me, though I was left trying to back out of prior arrangements. Before long, we’d confirmed the shooting arrangements and everyone resumed with the launch show preparations: set list confirmations, instrument things that I’ve no clue about ‘cause my job is to just click a camera button, etcetera. The only problem I seemed to have (aka that my parents seemed to have) was the two-shows-in-a-row ordeal. The closest I’d gotten to this was in June, with the Boris the Blade Warpath Weekender on the 3rd and SOTA Festival two days later. Not to mention that those shows were back when I had lower self-expectations and everyone was used to waiting up to a week for photos. Nowadays, it was show day on Friday and photos by Sunday at the latest. But two shows in a row? Having to go from prep to travel to shooting to travel to sleep to editing to prep to travel to shooting to travel to sleep to editing again? Whilst suffering from an extremely annoying cold that left me coughing with every breath? This would be interesting. Friday came soon enough. T'was my first day back at school after a week of feeling sick as all hell, and the amount of work I received was definitely more than what was taught. "Test next Monday!", "This is due, erm... today!", "This is worth twenty percent of your overall mark!", "Don't forget your bibliography!", the list could go on forever. Concentrating on all those tasks was nearly impossible. There were two shows coming up and I still felt like crap. I made a mental note of everything I had to do. Prep gear, charge batteries, ensure the lenses are clean, pack, DON'T FORGET THE MEMORY CARDS, bring earplugs, and, of course, clear enough space on my laptop to load the couple thousand photos. (Photographer rant: why do laptops have such limited space and why do raw images take up so much of it?! And why aren't the affordable hard drives Mac-compatible?!) The evening rolled around rather quickly. Before I knew it, I was outside HQ, wondering why, exactly, there was a razor blade on a picnic table. As always, there were young children around with their parents, skateboarding, scootering, and just generally being really freaken loud. The weather was nice, though. T'was that perfect winter-going-onto-spring style that you usually found around there. And everybody knew each other. Well, most people did, whilst I just stalked everyone online. (Oh sue me.) Soon enough, we found ourselves inside the venue and deciphering gear. The latest edition to my kit, a beautiful 85mm f1.8 Nikkor, was my go-to lens, and I anticipated it to perform similarly to how it did at the Ambleside show. Mounted on my entry-level DSLR, the Nikon D3400, I thought I had the best setup ever. Key word: thought.   The lights dimmed shortly after, and Crown Loser - aka James and Co. - were onstage, facing a crowd of fans - aka friends - and a lens that was failing to focus - aka my heavily praised 85mm f1.8 Nikkor.

When you consider it, concert photography is rather simple: you choose a subject, have your lens focus on it, press the button on the camera, and spend thirteen hours trying to save the image the next day. But when said lens cannot focus on said subject, you my friend are fucked. Because, no matter what fancy Tumblr aesthetic you were "going for", a blurry photo is a blurry photo, and a blurry photo is shit. So I could've taken a thousand fuzzy images and made them greyscale before trying to convince the band that it was "supposed" to look like that, but I wasn't about to. I knew they'd see right through it - even my grandmother would. The problem was, I hadn't realised my lens issue automatically. It wasn't until half way through CL's set that I finally noticed that the pixels were blending into a blurry mosh pit. (That made no sense but anyway...) Was my lens dusty? Dirty? Fucked? Had my friends pulled some crude joke on me at school? Oh, that's right - I don't have friends! (I'm joking, I've around three...ish.) (I also don't usually take my gear to school.)

So I had to go clean it. Except that didn't help. Nothing helped. I messed with my ISO and threw manual mode into a frenzy. Maybe it had something to do with the fogginess? That sometimes happens. The venue either uses smoke machines to create better light illusions (which are useless if you're employing green and red lighting anyway) or has a large number of people in a small space sweating like crazy. , it created fog and wouldn't be helpful. Of course, said fog would disappear soon enough, but that's the thing: fog wasn't the problem. So what was the issue? I was fucked if I knew! I continued changing my settings and attempting new angles. I made more trips to my equipment and I wouldn't blame anyone in the audience for wanting to kill me for that, because let's face it: nobody appreciates the idiot who keeps interrupting your viewing pleasure every five minutes due to lens issues. Or angles. Or memory cards. Or batteries. Or - you get the point. It was a frantic set. I managed to get a minuscule nine photos out of the entire thing, which was disappointing but better than nothing. The band was amazing, of course. I don't know a lot about music (besides how to photograph and headbang to it) but they did really freaken well, delivering a dynamic, memorable set. I'd say something even more generic such as "the crowd seemed to enjoy themselves immesely" but if you know that crowd, and if you're reading this then you probably do, they're not exactly fussed as long as they can jump around and yell random crap. (Which, quite frankly, is the best type of audience.)

As they were playing their final song, Dion said, in the way he always does, "SHEDHEAD FUCKING SUCK!" And who was up next? You guessed it - Shedhead.

With my ineffectual lens still ineffectual, the band took to the stage, delivering a magnificent set that had the whole crowd headbanging and screaming inside jokes.

I decided to swap my gear at some point during their set, as evident in the photos. For comparison, here's a shot of their (extremely talented) (I need new adjectives) lead singer and guitarist, Alex, taken with the 85mm:

And from roughly the same angle with a 35mm:

There's obviously quite a difference, as you'd expect. It's always of great appreciation to have various lens sizes, for sometimes you're after full stage shots or landscape full-body shots and other times you want close ups, but unfortunately I didn't have that pleasure for the majority of this show.

I'm not about to lie: it pissed me off. It truly did. You've probably realised that by now. Here I was, being expected to take (relatively) professional(ish) photos, depending on this bloody combination of glass and plastic Nikon dare call a lens, and it was completely failing me. (Did I mention that it was an excess of $500? Yup.)

Now, I know that most of you photographers out there will be scoffing at me, tired of my complaining and thinking something along the lines of, "It's not about the gear you have, but how you use it." Well, that's a valid claim. It is. But this usually comes from someone who either shoots with multiple lenses, or some smart ass who doesn't even do photography. You have to go based on what the bands are after, what they typically end up posting. You send them twenty-something photos, and they'll use a couple for profile photos and some for their social media. And which ones are used for social media? Predominantly closeups.

So, if the band you're shooting for is (potentially indirectly) after zoom-ins and your 85mm is broken, you my friend, are, as previously stated, fucked. And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it for the rest of the show except sit around and weep or take out your old 35mm.

But hang on, Sky! Don't you have a 50mm?

I wished I did. (Note: I purchased one soon after this gig. Like, the next day. I'll get to that in my next post on the With Con show; it was quite the drama.)

So stuck in those photographical Down Days I remained. (See what I did there? No? Go educate yourselves here.) The band continued playing adroitly, and before I became accustomed to shooting with the 35mm again, their set was over.

Halfway through.

During the intermission, I came up with a game plan: shoot the first song or two with the 85mm and hope to capture a useable image, then swap over to the 35mm.

Grey States (who I always thought were Greystates) were soon up, and I was faced with a new issue: someone - a band member's father, most likely - was Skyping a relative to show them the entire set. Whilst in the photographer spot. (Is it just me or is there an unspoken rule at HQ regarding the corner where the stage and pit meet? Like, that lil' gap? Isn't that for photographers? And, if it's a really popular band, for extreme fans as an addition to the front row? Photographers, what're your takes on this? Aren't we supposed to get stuck in that section?)

And I get it; a former member of Green Day was performing. But move out of the fucking way! If you want evidence of the set, you've got these professional(ish)(not really) photos to display. Send them to those relatives. Do what you want with them (just offer a bit of credit for ya gal here). Skype later, yeah? I was probably in the way the entire time regardless. (Side note: I can imagine that relative just saying something along the lines of, "Ko je ona budala što uvjek stoji ispred kamere? Ošni ju, jebo ju konj!" Assuming they're Bosnian. Which they most likely aren't.)

Just stay out of Sheldon Cooper's spot.

As for the band, well, damn. They delivered an incredible set, incorporating magnificent instrumentals and musical creativity. (Has anyone realised just how little I know about music and musical terminology? It's rather ironic. Comment some new words that you usually use to describe music.)

Why Even Try were soon playing, and by this point I was through with my 85mm. It wouldn't focus, it wouldn't photograph, it wouldn't function the way it was supposed to. So the 35mm it was. Back to getting ultra close to people, apologising waaaay too much, doing what I'd do anyway and taking shots from the stage, suffering, etcetera. All whilst listening to a riveting set and trying not to dance.

Honestly though, the guys were a prime example of why the Western Australian music scene isn't dead yet; their performance was dexterous and exuberant, making for a convivial night that may or may not have resulted in some pretty cool photos (if I do say so myself). "More Than" is definitely worth checking out, just as all their songs are. All the bands' Facebook links will be listed later on in this post, so leave them a like and listen to their music.

And that was that.

MUSIC SUMMARY:

Crown Loser: incredible/5

Shedhead: fuck yes/5

Grey States: outstanding/5

Why Even Try: 69/5

PHOTOGRAPHICAL SUMMARY:

Lenses: kill me now/5

Camera: for the price I paid, I'm not allowed to complain/5

Lighting: if I had the money I would change the venue's entire lighting setup/5

Editing: time consuming/5

My sanity: nonexistent/5

These aren't real ratings? Well... it's not exactly a "real", "generic", "stereotypical" music blog; one moment we'll be discussing shows, the next we'll be reviewing records and considering the environmental impacts of veganism and how minimalism influences tour life. All whilst poorly referencing lyrics and incorporating weird metaphors and Shakespearean terminology. I don't understand it either.

So that was Friday. Up next: Saturday.

No shit, Sky.

Also up next: the With Con show. On the aforementioned Saturday.

Stay tuned.

Until then, go listen to all the bands mentioned in this post. Find their Facebook links here:

Why Even Try

Grey States

Shedhead

Crown Loser

Live long and headbang, xx-Skyler Slate

[needyoucap]

I finally got a response to my job application, and they want an interview. The thing is.

Sometime last year, after I got my first job (that I only had for a month), social security was like "we're gonna take your benefits away, cause clearly you're fine and able to work now." Well, like five panic attacks later, I ended up quitting my job, and we tried to appeal the decision, and now, over half a year later, they're still...deciding? I guess? Or my case is just sitting there gathering dust. But in the meantime, they continued my benefits, but if they decide I'm not disabled, I'll have to pay back all the money they've given me since January. Which, if I get a job now, will send the message that I'm fine.

In the meantime, I was working with an occupational therapist, who was trying to get me into this...department of rehabilitation program thingy, that'll give me job training or whatever and help me with my anxiety and get me ready to work, and then eventually help me find a job. But they haven't contacted me in months now, and I don't really entirely know enough about the program even to know who I'm supposed to call to get it jumpstarted again, and the therapist I was working with is on maternity leave, so I'm just...stuck in limbo again.

But the job I applied to, that I really, really, want, told me they're "having in person interviews the next few days" so I don't know how long I have before they decide to forget about hiring me, and, yeah.

So everything sucks, basically, because I have the potential for this really great job and yet I can't just go get it.

Also, my best friend's wedding is in January and I have to get a bridesmaid's dress on Sunday and depending on how much it is I honestly don't know if I'll even be able to afford it, and also because I'm so fat most of the dresses are "special order" and might arrive only like, a week before the wedding. If I'm lucky. On top of all that, I'm stupid and built up credit card debt so I have to find some way to buy my friend a wedding gift, a bridal shower gift, and throw her a bachelorette party all before January.

I need this fucking job.

Honestly if they put me on a payment plan, it might be worth saying "fuck it" and taking the job (that I don't even know I'm going to get, because I haven't had an interview yet and I suck at interviews) even if that means paying the government back thousands of dollars. Just so I can get the fuck out of limbo and actually do something with my life.

But knowing me I'd end up quitting after a week from anxiety/stress anyway and then I'd really be fucked.

[delcanprobably]

Assassin’s Creed II Review

i finished assassin’s creed ii (2) and now i will write a thing about it

visuals and gameplay (which i normally wouldn’t group together but for this game it makes sense)

It’s from the era where everything is a desaturated shade of murky brown or sewerage green but once you get past that, it’s really a beautiful game. I think some areas get less desaturated as you play, but that might’ve just been time of day or me getting used to it. Having finished the game, I’ve reached the point where I’m not taken out of it by the visuals, and I actually appreciate the views a lot. I certainly liked it early on, but it took a while before I took it in that much. I feel that everything fits together really well, hard to explain exactly, but it’s just very solid and quite immersive. I didn’t learn the map very well, there are landmarks, but most of the cities are so samey that they don’t have many memorable areas. They’re distinct from each other, but internally, they feel pretty much the same wherever you are. It’s probably historically accurate, but it sometimes feels like you’re just running through what might as well be a procedurally generated series of tiled rooves. Overall though, the world looks good and serves the parkour system pretty well, and that’s what’s important. The parkour system gives the whole freedom thing but is also a bit unpredictable at times. It doesn’t magnet you into things as perfectly as newer games do, so I pretty regularly missed jumps (though I do kinda suck on a controller). It’s especially frustrating when you’re trying to do a leap of faith (super high jump into a hay bale indicated by a flock of birds and birdseed) and you somehow miss, like 99% of the time you go in, but if you don’t you make a complete fool of yourself. I started checking some of the less obvious ones, which kind of defeats the point of the whole system. NPCs are fairly primitive (maybe good for the time considering the crowd density?) but for whatever reason, I found that in tandem with the world, it was enough to be pretty immersive. In typical Ubisoft fashion, the world tries to be immersive while also being very gamey, as in there are all these consistent, familiar setups that you learn and can use as tools. Of course, this does mean in missions you sometimes find many conveniently placed solutions nearby, but rarely was it annoyingly blatant, and it kind of fueled the whole badass thing. The main thing that took me out is that there are a bunch of bugs. Visible spawn-ins (a couple of times I sprinted full pelt into a squad that spawned like a metre in front of me), parkour bugs, odd NPC behaviour etc., are pretty prevalent. It’s not Cyberpunk 1468, but it’s pretty meh. Money is fucking dumb. For the first hourish you’re barely able to afford anything. Then you get access to a town that generates shit-tonnes of money for you, and then you start getting thousands of florins when you so much as cough impressively and money becomes an entirely empty system. It’s honestly kind of comical. It’s good because you don’t have to worry about a stupid economy system, but it’s also obviously a bit dumb. I see what they went for, like you’re meant to build up this place to have a higher value and generate more money that you can then spend upgrading it and stuff, but I was more than comfortable with the amount of money I was getting in when I’d done like 10% of the upgrades. Oh, and then there’s this retarded system where you can buy artworks to add value to your base, but you never see them, they don’t add much value, and they’re really cheap. So honestly they’re just kind of there for the sake of being there, and near the end I started just going to the town’s art shops and bought all their artworks with the billions of florins I’d saved up. Also, to max out your base’s value, you have to buy every armour piece, even if it’s weaker than the one you’re up to (and the best armour is unlocked in the story anyway). And you can’t change which armour/weapons you have equipped without going back to your base. Not that it matters because it’s so easy that it doesn’t matter what you have equipped, more on that later. The classic issue that’s plagued AC forever is the repetitive fetch-questy bullshit missions, and yes they are there, but they honestly didn’t annoy me much at all. There are probably less than one for every story mission, so it honestly becomes a nice way to break it up. The exception is the assassinations, but they’re basically just cool bonus missions. You can do them whenever you want, and they have the gameplay of the main assassination missions. So they’re almost like missions distilled to their best bits without much backstory or polish. Oh yeah, and then there are the towers, but they’re kind of fun. You have to figure out how to get to the top (usually relatively straight-forward), the parkour to get up can be pretty fun, and then you get a nice view at the end. Honestly enjoyed them a lot for what it’s worth.

A major problem I had is that the game is just too damn easy. Yes, it’s meant to be a badass simulator to some extent but even if you don’t touch the controller for a whole fight, by the end of the game it’d take several minutes for enemies to knock your health down close to zero and then you have a gazillion health potions that start you all over again. More and more I felt very little risk in anything, and if I failed to do a cool plan for an assassination, then it usually wouldn’t matter and I’d be better off just going with it than I would waiting to die to try again. Fights with a small group are fun and break things up but it becomes a chore quickly and you start running away just out from fear of boredom. The best moments for difficulty were the forced stealth sections where you can’t get caught, but the problem with those were that if a guard becomes alerted then you instantly lose, even if they went from zero to alerted as you fall into an air assassination. The most fun with stealth outside those missions was the slim margin moments where you kill a guy just barely before they alert everyone, but you can’t even do that in stealth only missions. The ‘hidden in plain sight’ approach to stealth is pretty neat though so I’ll give it that.

It’s action-stealth but very action-oriented. It isn’t like a stealth game that you can jankily do some action stuff in, it’s easy to do things guns-blazing and a bit awkward but possible to be stealthy. I usually took the route of staying relatively hidden until I was in a good spot to assassinate my target and then got them and ran off, and I’m pretty sure this is how they want you to play based on the trailers and such. Coming with the easiness thing is that there are so many ways to kill people. You have a radial menu with around eight different weapons, and I can tell you that I used only three - two of which have quick access on the d-pad - outside of some very specific cases. I could’ve finished the game with just the hidden blade, sword, and throwing knives. It’s honestly absurd, for instance, there’s a knife that does less damage than your sword and is maybe slightly faster(?) Not only do you rarely need something between the sword and hidden blade, but there’s also no quick button for it on the d-pad, so it just never gets used. The excessive number of weapons include a couple that are meant to be tools for stealth, but it’s such a faf to go into the menu and select them that I rarely could be bothered.

story and stuff idk The story was pretty great, but I think some people exaggerate it a bit. Yes, the writing is pretty good, and Ezio is a great protagonist as far as video games go. What compelled me the most in the story was uncovering the conspiracy, not the characters’ story arcs. Even then, I got a bit lost halfway through. That’s not to say the characters are bad, they’re A-tier as far as video games go, but there’s no interesting development or real emotional thing behind anyone other than Ezio, and even then, it’s a kind of. He has some character development, but it’s pretty much done in the first third of the game. I will say I definitely cared a lot and was never annoyed by the story, and that’s rare for me. There are some dumb plot points when you think about them for a bit though, and there’s a retarded twist near the end. There’s the standard moral ambiguity thing you get in video games though. You learn about how you need to respect who you kill and only kill people for the common good and blah blah, but then you regularly kill half a dozen guards to go pick up a few hundred florins out of a box. And then there’s the fact guards instantly get sus if you’re on the rooftops (fair enough), which gives you an incentive just to kill them so that you can keep using the more fun method of travel. Whatever though, video games be video games. (story spoiler for people who have never played assassin’s creed, skip the italic bit if you wanna avoid) Oh yeah, the modern-day bits. Almost felt like there weren’t enough, to be honest. Like, I’m more interested in Ezio’s story, but there is so little closure in the modern-day stuff. Felt a tad underdone. The conclusion of the game gives a pretty intriguing ending for the like the lore of the modern-day story, but it leaves a lot of questions unanswered for both Desmond and Ezio’s story, and honestly, overall, it kind of feels like a massive cock tease for the rest of the Ezio trilogy. The last level is here and there. Very out of place and comes out of nowhere, but also pretty epic I guess. The final boss is pretty meh though; they’ve built a system where it’s impossible to make it actually difficult, so it’s basically just another fight.

Small note: the DLC is basically two extra chapters before the final chapter. So you end up hitting that, and you get voice lines that are kinda confusing (cause they’re written like you’ve finished the game and come back), and then you have that thing where you can tell that it’s DLC and not the main game. Kinda takes steam out of the tension built up to the second-last chapter of the main game, but whatever. The DLC itself is pretty great, but I’d maybe not be saying that if I’d explicitly paid for them and it wasn’t just included with the PC version. Oh yeah, there’s one mission that I loved the premise of but hated in practice, and it’s pretty much the peak mission in the whole game (it’s even the one depicted in the trailer). Basically (major game spoilers, minor story spoilers, skip the whole paragraph), you have to win a series of games at a carnival to get a ticket into a party hosted by your target. Once you’re in, the guards start to catch on, and you have to blend in while they swarm the party. Then your target shows up on a boat for a speech, and you have to kill him, preferably without having the entire city guards notice you. So conceptually, that’s pretty sick really. But there are so many issues with it that completely took me out of it. First, the carnival games. Instead of being bothered to program a whole new system to make this make any sense, you just have to “win” all of the games, two of which are basically just standard side-quests where you’re just competing against a clock or not dying. It completely took me out how the whole concept doesn’t make any sense, like you only get the ticket if you *win* all the games? What if you came second in one? I’m competing against no one though, so there is no second. It just makes zero logical sense. Then there’s the party. It’s pretty good up until the bit where you actually have to assassinate the guy. A character you’re with suggests that you don’t swim across, and instead you shoot him with the gun you just unlocked and do it in time with the fireworks that are going off, so that no one notices, and it’s given in that typical video game character giving gameplay directions kinda way. Great, except the fireworks are just a background sound, and there’s no difference whether you time it right or not. Also, guards get alerted the second you start charging up your shot if you’re not entirely hidden, so it doesn’t even matter. You still get the guards chasing you if you do the suggested method. However, I realised that there was a convenient tower nearby and thought maybe I was meant to sneak to the side of the party and climb the tower and “snipe” him! But no, because the game doesn’t let you target him from that high up. As far as I could figure out, there’s no particularly elegant way of taking him out, especially not without getting the guards on you. It was just so unsatisfying to have this great setup, probably the best in the game, but have it feel rushed and broken. Other than that I rarely had a problem with the story missions, other than the standard few “oh great a tailing mission” moments, but come on man, that’s such wasted potential. [spoilers over]

conclusion What I loved about this game was the atmosphere and jumping around exploring 15th century Italy. That’s followed by the aforementioned badass simulatorage and some aspects of the story. There was very little about this game that I proper disliked other than what I’ve mentioned. It’s an easy game to get lost in, and it’s not as stupid long as most open-world games, so if you’re a little interested, it can’t hurt to give it a shot, I guess. You have to appreciate exploring worlds a lot though, which I do. Zero challenge, so avoid like the plague if that’s an issue. If you want an actual stealth game in a similar setting with far more choice and challenge, you want Dishonored (which imo is the better game, but it’s a different type of game). This game is more jumping around buildings and taking in the world, and oh yeah also you’re meant to be a sneaky assassin. Also would highly recommend using a controller. Avoid playing the Xbox 360 version on backwards compatibility though, because I did that, and apparently, it’s a common problem for your entire save to get wiped at one specific bit. How d’you reckon I found that out? Thankfully, my old PC save was at the right point. Also, Ubisoft protected sexual predators for years :). Thanks for listening to my TEDx Seatle talk.

[exclusiveyellowheart]

September 20th, 2020

 I keep saying this in my head -- it feels like everything’s fine, or everything should be fine. Nothing is inherently wrong. I have a job, I have a home, I have people around me who love me. Work is annoying sometimes between customers who are rude and my coworkers who have the one-trackiest minds ever, but I’m probably more irritable because I cut out any sort of nicotine and I haven’t had any in like, 3-4 days...that’s probably why I’m so irritable and emotional.

But I’ve also been freaking out about money and remembering how hard it was to get anything I asked for as a kid because we didn’t have money. Which I can’t say much about, because there wasn't anything we could do about that. Our family was poor. My mom was sick. Anything we got that was “expensive” felt really kind and was highly appreciated. Now that I am an adult, with big people money AND credit card money that felt like FREE MONEY, I got whatever the fuck I wanted. I deserved it. I needed it. They were necessities. And I put myself into a decent amount of credit card debt for being in my early twenties. 

There’s a lot that has been coming up mentally about my past. It’s just like, weird flashbacks or just remembering how things used to be, and it makes me realize how truly affected I’ve been by my childhood. I like to think that the real trauma and the real emotions come from when I was 15 and my mom died, but obviously there is SO. MUCH. SHIT. from before that, that’s engrained somewhere in my stupid little pea brain. I don't know. I probably just avoided that for too long, and now it’s starting to affect me as I’m going into adulthood. True adulthood.

I’ve been avoiding a lot of things. I haven’t made any effort to try and get my license. I’d done my five hour and I felt like I was on the right track to getting it, but then dad moved away and I didn’t want to go with him. I don’t have the money to get lessons, and I avoided the fact that I had credit card debt that I should’ve paid more attention to when I had the chance. Now it’s in the thousands and it feels like its unbearable at this point. I know I have to get to this point where like, I don’t really matter and I need to make sure I’m doing things so I can just genuinely SURVIVE. So, eventually, I can actually start having money to myself and I can properly budget myself and be able to put money into my savings so I can actually see it above the triple digits. So I can actually get my life to a point where I feel comfortable. I’m just constantly in this state of feeling uncomfortable about genuinely everything in my life. It’s really hard. It’s like, right now my body and my brain aren’t allowing me to genuinely feel good or want anything, and being alive just genuinely feels numb right now or it’s like, red hot anger that is so hard for me to suppress. I don’t know when it became this way but it feels like I can’t get out. 

Being in this pandemic, and in this state of mind, feels like being locked in a dark closet. Like a, “You’re grounded, and I’ll let you out when I feel like you’ve spent enough time in there.” Sometimes I just want to sit there and wallow. Sometimes I cause a big ruckus and I want to kick and scream until maybe I’ll be let out, but most of the time, I’ve just been apologizing into the air. Like, I’m sorry I've been an awful person in this existence. I’m sorry for currently not being a person who deserves to be alive. Like I genuinely feel like natural selection is going to get me at some point, because I’m still mentally fucking fifteen years old and I’m so irresponsible and I feel constantly off and on edge. I JUST WANT TO BE FUCKING HAPPY. And it’s dumb but it feels like right now the only way I will make myself happy is by getting myself back in a solid financial state.

Writing poetry doesn't bring me joy anymore. Playing music doesn't bring me joy anymore. I used to think that I was good and I don’t think I’m good anymore, and it’s put me into this half-block, half-I-never-wanna-do-art-again kind of mindset. I’m trying to remind myself that it’s something I can still do for fun and something that genuinely makes me happy to do, but also...it isn’t making me happy because I think I suck. I haven't written any music in a while. I don’t pick up my instruments as much as I used to, and on top of that I’m self taught and that limits me as well. 

To condense everything, I don’t fucking feel good about myself. I feel like an absolute failure to society and a failure to myself because I can’t even do the things I love. I’m just so stuck and so....numb. I don’t want to feel this way anymore, and I’ve been lately more on the pessimistic side of that feeling. And I don’t want to have those passive thoughts and ideations like that. I just want to feel more stable. More grounded. I wish I had like a semi-weekly therapist and a fucking life coach but I CAN’T AFFORD THINGS LIKE THAT LOL :-)))))) I don't know. That’s all. I just wanna feel better.

Thanks for listening.

[thinkyoureholy]

One Shot, One Kill [4]

[A/n: Things are a bit dark in the beginning but I'm not sure if it calls for a trigger warning or not but just in case I'm warning y'all now. Also my wifi is back up and I’ll be posting a new parts of this story twice a week.]

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WARNING: There is smut ahead so if you’re not comfortable I suggest you not press on the Keep Reading thing and wait for the next update

Pairing : Jung Hoseok/ OC (Azura/Zada)

Genre: Angst/ Action/ some fluff/ Eventual smut/ Paid Assassin AU

Words: 2.7k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11.

-Azura’s P.O.V-

I chugged the rest of the bottle, throwing it against a nearby tree, watching it shatter to pieces. I hugged my knees to my chest, staring blankly out into the river, thankful that no one was able to see or hear me since it was the middle of the night. No one would be stupid enough to be walking the streets this late at night.

Tonight...was one of those nights; a night where these damn thoughts haunted my mind, every memory, every face, every scream, every plea for mercy, every single one of them. Nights like tonight were rare, but they happened nonetheless. In these moments I wanted nothing more than to leave this world for all the sins I’ve committed. All those people, I killed them all...and for what? For a couple thousand dollars? Oh how happy would my parents be if they knew their precious daughter had turned into a stone cold killer.

I let out a bitter laugh, raking my fingers through my hair as I took a swig of the new bottle of alcohol I had opened without noticing. Every single life I took meant something to someone else. All those people were mothers, fathers, grand fathers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters. How many of them had family members that stayed up all night waiting for them to get home? Little did they know that the ones they were waiting up for would never return.

“I should just jump into the river and hope I drown.” I mumbled to myself spitefully, taking another drink and feeling the silent tears roll down my face.

“Excuse me…” A male voice interrupted my thoughts, making me look up at him.

My eyes widened at recognizing his face. I cursed as I lowered my head, covering my face with my hair. I said nothing, waiting for him to take the hint and leave me alone. But he didn’t, he actually ended up taking a seat next to me. I grit my teeth, diverting the anger I felt at myself at him.

“I told you if I saw you again-”

“You’ll put a bullet in between my eyes, yeah I heard you the first time you don’t need to keep repeating yourself.” He retorted, disdain evident in his voice.

“What are you doing out here in the dark anyway?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“That’s none of your business.” I spat, once again taking a swig of alcohol, no longer caring that he could see my face.

I stared out into the river once more, not wanting to talk to him while these thoughts clouded my mind. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t escape them so without thinking I turned to Jay.

“Can I ask you something…?”

He didn’t give me an answer, keeping his gaze on the river. Taking this as a sign to continue I took on last drink, setting the now empty bottle aside.

“Would you kill me?” I asked nonchalantly, leaning back on the bench we were sitting on.

I felt his gaze on me as soon as I uttered those words. I didn’t bother looking at him, keeping my eyes on the flowing water of the river. I did see him turn towards me out of the corner of my eye, a bewildered expression undoubtedly adorning his face.

“I know I haven’t been...the kindest person to you...but can you do me this favor?” I asked, finally turning to look at him.

He stayed silent as he looked into my eyes making a small smile spread across my face as I looked away. I hugged my knees closer to my body, the two of us sitting in silence. It was strange, the silence wasn’t awkward...it was actually pretty comfortable.

“What happened to the fierce Zada I saw just a few days ago?” He asked, breaking the silence.

At that I turned to look at him once more, resting my cheek against my arm, “I’m human too...I have feelings. I feel the pain of taking a life. You think I enjoy killing? I absolutely hate it. I hate the thought of having to take a life, no matter how despicable a person is, they’re still human. Their lives matter in one way or another and here I am ending it just like that. And for what? A couple thousand dollars?” I said, feeling a lone tear roll down my cheek.

“I’d put a bounty on my own head if I had the courage.”

“Then why do you do it? Why not get out?”

I chuckled, now resting my chin on my arm, looking down at the grass, “It’s not that easy to get out and you know it.”

He didn’t say anything after that, silence once again taking over. We sat there for a good ten or fifteen minutes before I spoke up again.

“Well...thanks...for listening, I guess. I won’t kill you the next time I see you either so don’t worry about that.” I said, not sparing him a glance as I got up.

But before I could even start to walk away I felt his hand wrap around my wrist. I turned to look at him in confusion. He looked like he was debating something over, having an internal battle with himself before he finally looked up at me. Without a word he tugged on my arm making me stumble in his direction. Somehow he managed to maneuver my body so I was straddling his waist. I was too stunned to do or say anything.

“Let me help you forget…” He said in a low voice, trailing off.

I stared at him in shock, wondering what the hell came over him. His gaze wasn’t on my eyes but on my lips making me bite down on my lower lip unconsciously. At seeing that he groaned lowly, bucking his hips slightly in turn making let out a soft whimper. He leaned in and captured my lips with his. In response I started grinding my hips against his slowly, a low groan coming from his throat.

“Fuck…” I moaned out softly, throwing my head back as his lips trailed down my neck.

His hands tightened around my thighs as I picked up the pace, my own going to unzip my sweater. As soon as he noticed I had nothing underneath Jay let out a moan followed by a curse, his lips quickly finding my breasts.

“Wait, wait, wait.” I panted out, grabbing a fistful of his hair and making him look at me, “We can’t do this here…”

He smirked at that, raising his head to kiss me again but I pulled back. He huffed out a breath, leaning back against the bench and started thinking. As he finally thought of what to do he smirked once more, zipping up my sweater and planting a quick kiss to my lips.

“Come on, I know where to go.” He said, rising to his feet and grabbed my hand before leading me towards the street.

There was an abandoned recreation center across the street. The neighborhood couldn’t afford to keep it running so they just shut it down. It’s been closed for the past ten years but no one cared enough for it to check to see if it was securely locked or not. Seeing as he probably also knew about this Jay lead me to the abandoned building, a grin spreading across his face at seeing the building was actually unlocked. Once inside I pushed him up against the wall, attaching my lips to his jaw. He let out a soft grunt, bending his knees slightly as he picked me up. I moaned into his skin, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist and feeling his bulge against my core.

“Shit, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of here after I’m done with you.” He all but growled out, thrusting his clothed core against my own.

Smirk against his skin I weaved my fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots slightly. I rested my forehead against his own, “Let’s see who’s gonna be the one that won’t be able to walk after this,” I said, putting my feet on the ground, “Me...or you.”

I whispered seductively in his ear as I boldly palmed his member over his pants. He let of a shaky breath, throwing his head back. Smirking I unbuttoned his pants and lowered them so I could pull out his hardened member. He moaned lowly as I slowly started pumping him, a bit of precum already seeping out of his tip. I pressed my lips against his jaw, skimming my thumb over the tip of his member.

“Holy shit…” He panted out, pushing my hand away before roughly pulling my sweater off of me.

He wasted no time and attacked my breast with his lips. He found my nipple, bringing it into his mouth and swirling his tongue over my sensitive bud. I moaned loudly as his other hand gave my other nipple the same amount of attention. I gripped his hair in my hand tightly and he trailed his lips up to my neck, sucking harshly on the sensitive skin.

Feeling his erection press up against my body I pushed him back against the wall, going down on my knees in front of him. He moaned at the sight as I grabbed his member in my hand before sticking my tongue out and licking him from base to tip. I gently started sucking his tip, slowly taking in more of him until he hit the back of my throat. I bopped my head at a slow pace, hollowing out my cheeks to make it more pleasurable for him. I heard him hiss in pleasure as his hips started moving, thrusting his member in and out of my mouth. I placed my hands on his hips, trying to keep him as still as possible as I picked up the pace, knowing he was close by the way his grip on my hair tightened. I moaned around his dick, receiving a groan in response.

“Fuck...Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours baby girl.” Jay moaned out, grabbing all of my hair into one of his hands.

I nodded, feeling my core throb at his words as I lowered my hands. I relaxed my throat, proud that I didn’t gag as he started thrusting his member in and out of my mouth. Every time he thrust back in I made it a point to swallow, causing his hips to move faster. I felt tears prick at my eyes at how rough he was being but I’d be lying if I said I didn't like it. My nails dug into his thighs as he started going deeper, my gag reflex triggered by how deep he was in my mouth. He seemed to love the sound, biting his lip and throwing his head back. He gave another few thrusts before pulling out of my mouth and pulling me up to stand.

He immediately went for my neck, his lips messily sucking and kissing all over the skin. My hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He leaned back in to capture my lips with his, his tongue pushing into my mouth. We fought for dominance, my hands absent mindedly running across his stomach and chest. He basically growled as I let him win, smirking against his mouth.

He reached for my jeans, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping them and pulled them down my legs, my underwear along with them. I stepped out of the fabric, squealing as Jay picked me up once more, my legs immediately wrapping around his waist. I moaned loudly when I felt his fingers skim over my folds, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

“Damn is this all for me? Do I make you this wet baby girl?”

I whimpered against his skin as he pushed one of his fingers into my core, “Fuck~”

I let out a string of curse words mixed in with my moans as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out before adding a second. My breath hitched at the stretch, my nails digging into his shoulder when he pressed his thumb against my clit. I felt my orgasm building but before I could even get close to hitting my high he pulled his fingers out of me. I whimpered at seeing him place his fingers in his mouth, sucking my juices off of them. That was single handedly the hottest thing I have ever seen, my core throbbing to have his dick inside me.

“Jay~” I whined, a groan leaving his lips at the sound of his name.

He hungrily attacked my lips, making me taste myself on his lips. I moaned into his mouth when I felt him align his member at my entrance. He inserted the tip, removing his lips from mine as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, inserting himself fully. We both let out loud moan as he bottomed out, his hips still as he gave me enough time to adjust to his size. I moved my hips, signalling to him that it was okay to move. He did so, very slowly, pulling out before thrusting back in and hitting all the right places. My nails dragged down his shoulders when he picked up the pace a little, constant moans falling from my lips. The only sounds heard were the slapping of skin and our moans intermingling with one another. As he kept going I felt that knot in the pit of my stomach start to tighten, signalling that my orgasm was building.

“Holy shit...faster.” I moaned in his ear, biting down on his shoulder as he did as he was told.

“Fuck, Jay, right there. Oh my god don’t stop.”

He grunted into my neck, his hips moving at an unbelievable pace. I felt myself getting closer to the edge, my legs tighten around his waist as my walls clenched around his cock. He choked on a moan as my walls clenched around him repeatedly, his hips stuttering for a moment before continuing their onslaught.

“You’re...so fucking...tight. Holy shit I’m gonna cum.” He whispered into my ear, his breathing labored.

I let out what could only be between a scream and a moan when I felt his thumb start to rub my clit, giving me the final push I needed to throw me head first into the hardest orgasm I’ve had in awhile. My legs trembled as Jay continued to thrust his members into me, chasing his own orgasm all the while helping me ride through mine. Wanting to help I raked my fingers through his hair, my lips pressing against his ear.

“Come on baby, cum. I want to feel your warm cum inside me, please let me have your cum.” I all but whimpered in his ear.

He groaned loudly, his hips finally slowing down as I felt his warm cum coat my walls. He kept moving his hips, shallowly thrusting his member into my core as he rode out his high. He finally stilled after another minute or so, his forehead pressed against my collarbone as he tried to catch his breath. I leaned back against the wall, fully aware that his hands were still on my thighs and holding me up. I breathed in and out heavily, a small laugh falling from me lips.

“Why...are you laughing?” Jay asked, his breathing still uneven.

“Because I can’t believe I just let the man I hated up until a few hours ago fuck my brains out.” I explained, grinning at the smirk that graced his features.

“So I was the best fuck you’ve ever had?” He asked cockily.

I rolled my eyes, shrugging my shoulders and not giving him the satisfaction of hearing an answer. He pulled his now flaccid member out of me, putting me down so I could stand on my own two feet. I stumbled as I stood up, a shit eating grin spreading across his face. He took a step closer to me, pressing his body against mine as his hands were securely placed on my hips.

“I told you, you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here by the time I was done with you.”

I rolled my eyes once more, slapping at his shoulder, “Shut up and help me get dressed and to my car.”

“Yes ma’am.” He responded giddly, giving me a mock salute before planting a brief kiss to my lips.

// ah sorry if the smut isn’t that good it’s been awhile since I’ve done smut TBFH. Thank you for reading and pt 5 will probably be up in the wee hours of Saturday morning since I usually go to sleep when the sun is already coming back up //

[the-tales-of-horror]

A valet, a fancy car, and things that go bump in the night

Original Link By manen_lyset

I work as a valet at a casino in Atlantic City. It’s not the most glamorous job, but it pays well and it’s fun. Who wouldn’t want a taste of what it’s like to drive sweet-ass sports cars they could never afford? Usually, my nights are pretty uneventful: I park the cars, walk back to the valet station, wait, walk back to the parking lot, and drive the cars back to their owners waiting at the entrance. If I’m lucky, my patron will reward me with a good tip. If my patron was unlucky, I’ll get a scoff and the stink eye, as if it’s somehow my fault they came out of the casino several thousand dollars poorer. Worst is, I’m pretty sure it’s more a question of bruised egos; the types that come to my casino consider a couple thousand bucks to be “pocket change”. This isn’t the place for down-on-their-luck alcoholic husbands looking to gamble their paychecks away: this is a place of expensive cars, flashy watches, fancy suits, old money, and men who think they own the world---and probably do.

I never let any of that bother me. I’ve always just done my job and lived by the valet’s cardinal rule: if we see something, we say nothing. Whether it be a sack of cocaine or evidence of a backseat orgy, we keep our mouths shut. Our job isn’t to police or judge: it’s to get cars from point A to point B, which is literally just around the corner, but apparently too far for rich folks to walk. Just like shrinks have doctor-patient confidentiality, we offer valet-car confidentiality. The other night, I had to break that unofficial confidentiality agreement, and here’s why.

His name was Edward Smith, and he looked just as pretentious as his name suggested. He showed up late at night with the shit-eating grin of a man who shops for wives based on bra sizes and waistlines. He had a small, busty woman on his arm who sported a massive diamond on her ring finger that blurred the line between ‘expensive’ and ‘tacky’, and who wore a leopard print dress so tight it might as well have been a skin suit. She looked twenty years younger, but every bit as entitled. Edward, on the other hand, had applied so much gel his hair looked like plastic, he had gone all-out with diamond-studded cufflinks, and he wore a suit so perfectly tailored, it had probably been sewn directly on him.

Without a single glance in my direction, Mr. Smith tossed me his valet key and said, “Don’t scratch her.”

Entitled asshole or not, he was a client, and I was going to be careful with his car. I always was.

I opened the door and immediately caught a whiff of something strong. It was like a plume of lavender perfume had crashed over me like a tidal wave. I could taste it as it burned my nose and made my eyes water. It was so strong I had to open all the windows and hold my breath just to survive the short drive to the lot right around the corner. I was distracted, I could barely see, hell, I could even hear ringing in my ears as though I were sucking on a lemon.

Just as the car came to a stop in its parking spot, I heard a thud coming from the back. Not a light thud, either. A nice, strong thud that made the car bump.

“Shit!” I cursed.

I must have hit something. Something big. Something I hadn’t seen through the veil of tears my eyes had been producing to wash out the perfume.

I could just imagine roadkill crushed under the wheel, blood sprayed over the pristine gold paint job, and maybe even a nasty dent. It wasn’t going to come out of my paycheck – the casino had insurance – but I was as good as fired.

I resisted the urge to bash my head against the steering wheel out of frustration: I couldn’t risk causing more damage, and lingered in the driver’s seat as I tried to figure out how I was going to explain this to my boss. People don’t hit animals in parking lots. Driving at 5mph. With enough floodlights to light up a football stadium. That’s just not something that happens.

Another thud sent the car bouncing again, and this time, I was more scared than surprised because the thud was followed by a very light, barely audible whimper.

“Oh shit,” I whispered to myself.

It was still alive.

I didn’t know what to do. Back up? Stay put? Drive over the cement strip and onto the grass? Was I going to have to put the poor creature out of its misery?

As another bump rocked the car, I started to worry about how big it must have been to be able to shake the car in its injured state. Was it even safe to go outside? What if it was a coyote? What if it reared its head and bit me?

A peek. I needed to sneak a peek of it---to know what it was, before I proceeded. I opened the door and shuffled onto my stomach, careful not to scuff the leather interior. Edward would notice if I scuffed anything, and I’d be in twice as much shit. Patrons always noticed every little defect. They didn’t notice when we took the liberty of throwing away used condoms or cigarettes forgotten on the driver’s seat, but they definitely noticed if we so much as left a piece of lint behind. Once I was in position, I took a deep breath, braced myself to see some poor eviscerated animal, and craned my neck down to look under the car.

There was nothing there, just four wheels on the pavement. No blood, no guts, no animal crawling away with half its body dragging behind it like a zombie.

“What the fuck?”

I raced out of the car and bent down on all fours, scanning the wheels more thoroughly. I pushed myself to my feet and circled around the car, my attention split between trying to find the animal I’d hit, and checking for damage. The car looked as sparkly and shiny as the day it’d left the dealership, and there wasn’t so much as a tuft of fur left behind.

As I stood there by the back right wheel, the car suddenly bounced, and I heard another whimper. The trunk, I realized, someone’s in the trunk.

I felt a mix of emotions. On the one hand, I was relieved I hadn’t almost killed something, on the other hand, the situation was suddenly much worse.

See something, say nothing, that was our cardinal rule.

No matter what kind of shit we saw in those cars, we were not allowed to do anything. It wasn’t our place. It wasn’t my place. If I tried to help, they’d have my job, but…

Nervously, I said, “Is anyone there?”

I heard what sounded like sobs as the car shook in response.

I was right.

“Hang tight, I’ll get you out of there!”

I ran around front and pulled the key from the ignition, then circled back to the trunk. I put it in, turned right, turned left, turned right again: the key didn’t work. Of course it didn’t work. That was the whole point of a valet key: keeping the valet out of your stuff.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

I paced around back-and-forth, wondering what to do. That’s when the thought occurred to me: maybe Edward kept a spare key. I headed back inside the car and started searching the glove compartment and dashboard hoping I’d find one. I found everything from a gold flask to a custom mahogany business card holder, but no key. Meanwhile, the car continued to bounce every so often, and the whimpers persisted.

I sat on the curb, biting my nails as I pondered what to do: risk my job by snitching to the cops, or let it go. It wasn’t too late, I could save my own neck. I could bury my head in the sand and convince myself this was some sort of fetish thing and the girl was totally into it. I could pretend nothing happened. But, then again, how could I live with myself if I did that?

I grabbed my cellphone and called the cops.

The wait was unbearable. I spent my time trying to calm whoever was inside the trunk. I gave her my name and made one-sided small talk, even as the thuds grew weaker and the whimpers came to a stop. Finally, I saw the red and blue lights of a squad car turning into the parking lot. I flagged them down, but by then, the trunk had gone quiet. They said something about just cause or probable cause…or something they say all the time in those cop shows. Point being, they couldn’t open the trunk just yet. They had the casino security track down Edward Smith, who showed up looking as sheepishly self-satisfied as he had earlier. This time, with three women on his arms instead of just the one.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” he asked the policemen calmly.

I could just barely hear the conversation from behind the squad car where I was giving my statement. The cops explained they suspected someone was being held against their will, and the slimy guy just smiled and shrugged.

“I have no idea where someone might have gotten that idea,” he said.

“Would you please open the trunk?” asked the cop.

He smirked broadly, releasing the women in his arms. He shooed them away with playful slaps on the ass, then said, “Why, of course. You need only ask.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his car key, not hesitating for a second to unlock the trunk and open it. I stretched my neck as far as it could go to see who was inside, but what I saw sent my stomach tumbling to my feet.

The trunk was empty.

“Impossible,” I whispered.

I had heard her. I had felt the car bumping up and down from the inside. I had seen it moving from the outside.

My boss came out, face red with anger. I could tell he was about to scold me. Probably fire me, too, but Edward Smith stood between us and smiled.

“Now, I don’t want you to do anything to him. He took good care of my car. I’m sure this was just a misunderstanding. I expect to see him here next time I visit,” he said.

He winked at me. A wink that made my skin crawl.

My supervisor blundered out, “Y-yes, of course.”

The police searched the car, then shot annoyed glances my way.

I went home that night shaken by what had happened. I went through it in my head over and over again, but I couldn’t explain it. Was the car haunted? Had I felt an earthquake? Could … could lavender perfume make you hallucinate?

A few weeks passed, and I finally saw the car pulling up around the corner. At first, I thought it was him---I thought that entitled prick had come back to taunt me, but there was a blueish sheen to the paint and the driver looked completely different. Just some random guy with the same car model as Edward.

You know, this might sound weird, but even after weeks, I never forgot what Edward’s trunk looked like. The image of the empty space stayed with me, nagging me every day. I could see it in my mind’s eye so clearly that if I had any drawing skills whatsoever, I could have shown you exactly what it looked like in spectacular detail.

The random patron with the same model car stepped out, but kept hold of his key. He apologized as he ran around back to get something from his trunk. It was the same exact trunk, but then I saw him reach around and pull a latch.

The floor retracted.

There was a compartment underneath, just barely big enough to hold a person, if you broke a few bones and really crammed her in there.

I promised her I’d get her out.

I gave her false hope.

And then I let her die.