#and the outside is now covered in stickers and i use it as a tray table on my bed

[kansasjustgotgayer]

Anybody else been gifted one of those wooden art boxes with terrible supplies in them?

What did you do with the box?

[kayakima]

Hello I am back with more headcanons

How the 104th Cadet corps smokes 🍃 and what they’re like when they’re high

Plus bonus Porco and Pieck

Eren: Has every form of Rick and Morty paraphernalia in existence. Rolling trays, Tshirts, ash trays, you name it. Unironically says that people need a higher IQ to be able to “fully grasp” the message of the show. Used to smoke indoors but Mikasa pushed him to take it outside or at least open a window. Goes fully nonverbal (for once) but also can’t keep his hands to himself if he’s alone with Mikasa.

Mikasa: Doesn’t smoke a ton but she still somehow has an incredibly high tolerance. Has a pen that she named “Penjamin” and she discreetly hits it at the aquarium/museum. When she’s at home with Eren it takes one hit before their clothes are on the floor.

Armin: Tried smoking but it always just ends up giving him a headache for some reason. Edibles are a bit better but he never seems to really “feel it”, so he prefers to just not partake because he doesn’t want to waste money. Prefers CBD gummies and has a CBD pen on him so he doesn’t feel left out during sessions. A fiend for cigs though.

Ymir: WAKE. AND. BAKE. She can out smoke ANYONE, even Connie. Zeros her bong in one hit and does NOT clean it. Has a whole dab rig and puts grape-sized globs in it just for herself. Unironically watches Jackass and Filthy Frank videos when Historia isn’t around.

Historia: Smoked once and had a panic attack. Does not smoke or partake at all anymore and instead she drinks or hits her crusty ass juul from 2018 that’s covered with faded stickers, and she uses bootleg strawberry juul pods so she feels like she’s doing something. Babysits Ymir when she goes nonverbal and they also can’t keep their hands off each other. She’s the one to clean Ymir’s bong and yells at her when she leaves it on the coffeetable.

Reiner: Can rip a bong like nobody’s business but is classy enough to keep it in a cupboard when he isn’t using it. All his bags and pockets are littered with various brands of mint-flavored dispos because he vapes in public. Gets really calm and quiet and one time when he was with Jean the two of them got way too high together and started making out (they don’t talk about it and nobody else will ever know)

Bertoldt: Surprisingly chatty when smoking. Doesn’t do anything fancy and just has a glass pipe. Taught Reiner what a sploof was so he wouldn’t get caught by his mom. Has a decent tolerance but can sometimes overdo it because he underestimates edibles. “Man this edible ain’t shit” *Ten minutes later*: “dude do you ever think about how our fingers are just bony tentacles?”

Annie: Almost exclusively bums off of other people. Offers a drag of her cig in return. Also gets chatty but not nearly as much as Bert. She’s the one to pick out the movie and she’s the last one to fall asleep. Always jumps for nature documentaries or nostalgic things like Wallace and Gromit.

Marco: Does NOT smoke and sees weed as a gateway drug. Cried when he found out Jean keeps edibles on him and said he didn’t want him to become an “addict” until Jean invited him to babysit a JSC smoke session. Now he dislikes it but tolerates it for Jean.

Sasha: Munchies go with Sasha like milk goes with cookies. Full Mukbang channel with 2 million subscribers. The big draw to the channel is SJC antics and when Niccolo decides to make gourmet food for her to absolutely destroy when high. Eats all the edibles Pieck gives her in like 3 days.

Jean: Has those 5mg Caminos on lockdown in his back pocket to the point where they’ve worn a circular imprint in the denim and he has to clarify that, no, it is neither a tin of dip, nor is it Zyn packets. He keeps the Caminos on hand because they make him more social and relaxed in public without getting too zooted. At home he has a pen but rarely uses it. Prefers 20mg brownies Pieck makes him. Does not smoke with Reiner anymore. (He really enjoyed himself and is scared of the implications)

Connie: spent $600 on a gravity bong because he saw Seth Rogen talk about it. Has a YouTube channel under the name Con-man420 and the videos have titles like “REVIEWING SUPER LEMON HAZExGRANDADDY PURP HYBRID IN 4K HD”. Impossible to tell if he’s high or sober because you’re not ever entirely sure you’ve SEEN him fully sober.

Pieck: Makes edibles. Knows how to make canna-butter and runs a whole under-the-table edible business. Once it was legalized in her state she had a panic attack. When she’s high it’s like her brain completely shuts off and she has to do the little bicep hug with Jean or Porco if they’re out in public so she doesn’t get left behind. Falls asleep every time. Very cuddly and gets handsy depending on who she’s with.

Porco: Smokes out of a pipe shaped like an old-fashioned tobacco pipe. Pieck got it for him as a joke but he loves it. Can do smoke tricks with his pen. Plays Tame Impala and Glass Animals on vinyl and melts into the couch like that one DARE ad

[dudadragneel]

Hello, guys! It's me!

And I'm back with another original idea of mine!

This one is focused on Chan and it's a little short but I hope you'll enjoy it!

THE ELDEST FALLS ILL

Morning rose in the dorms of the Stray Kids, it was a sunny but not hot morning, the weather looking beautiful outside. It seemed like it would be just like any other ordinary day, but it wasn't.

All of the kids were still asleep but half-conscious that the amount of sleep they were getting was too suspicious. Lee Know woke up first, being the second oldest, got out of his room, and noticed that no one else seemed to be awake. He went into the bedrooms and confirmed that everyone was still asleep. As he was entering one of the bedrooms, Felix was waking up and greeted him.

- Good morning, hyung...

He said with a raspy voice, low enough to scare someone.

- Good morning, Yongbok-ah.

The young boy looked at his phone and noticed that he had slept in and just like he suspected, he was getting a suspicious extra amount of sleep that morning.

- Chan-hyung didn't come to wake us up...

- I noticed that.

- Did he decide to sleep in today? I mean, we don't have any schedules anyway.

- I'm not sure...he would've told us yesterday...

By now everyone was up and gathered in one room, starting to worry about their leader.

- let's go check on him.

Lee Know suggested as they left the room.

Being the leader and the oldest one, Chan had a room of his own, that's something all the kids agreed on. He more than anyone in that group needed peace and silence to properly rest.

They entered the room and noticed Chan didn't even budge with the noise all the curtains were down and the AC wasn't on. Now they knew something was definitely wrong because it was a little hot outside.

They got closer to the bed and noticed Chan was completely covered by his blanket. Lee Know carefully pulled the blanket revealing a heavily flushed face Chan, sweating and panting like he ran a marathon.

- Morning hyung.

- morning...

He answered weakly as Lee Know approached him.

- Hyung, excuse me.

He said as he carefully placed his palm on the oldest boy's forehead. He didn't even need a thermometer to know he had a fever, he was too hot to the touch.

- Hyung, you've got a fever. One of you, get me a thermometer.

- 'm fine...

Chan answered trying to sit up on the bed with Lee Know quickly helping him and noticing again how hot and sweaty he was.

- No hyung, you're not. Look, 38.1°C, that's a fever.

- 'm sorry for not waking you up...

- Since when have you been feeling like this?

Chan began to answer but was cut off by a coughing fit.

- Take it easy, hyung. Here, drink a little bit of water.

- sorry, thanks. I guess it started last night after I went to bed...

- You were coughing a bit yesterday.

- Yeah...I might've caught a mild cold...

- Hyung, 38.1°C looks far from a mild cold. For now, just lay down again and try to get some rest. We'll cook something for you and get some medicine.

- Sorry guys...

He said sounding tired, as if just trying to communicate with them was a tough task.

Lee Know stepped out of the room with the boys and assigned tasks to each of them. He'd stay home and cook and the others would buy medication and tidy up the dorm.

When a part of the group arrived, Lee Know had already cooked a light breakfast for Chan and was just setting everything up to get it to his bedroom.

- Excuse us...

He entered the room followed by Hyunjin who was holding the tray and other five worried boys.

Lee Know placed an ice sticker on Chan's forehead to help reduce the fever and left the medication on his bedside table so he could take it after the meal.

- Here, Hyung.

Hyunjin said motioning the tray and placing it on Chan's lap. The oldest boy gave the kids a little pained smile and thanked them for the meal. He didn't have that much appetite due to the fever and the coughing but he knew an empty stomach wasn't going to help his situation.

And despite not feeling hungry at all, the breakfast tasted delicious. Not too heavy but also not seasonless and indeed light on his stomach.

After he finished he took the medication and lay down again.

The boys left the room with the promise to check on him in a few hours to see if his fever had gone down.

Some of the boys had errands to run and the others stayed at the dorm to work and keep an eye on Chan.

Roughly two hours later, Lee Know went in to check on his Hyung.

- Excuse me Hyung.

He said as he placed a hand on the boy's forehead.

- That's good. It's gone down significantly. How are you feeling?

-  A bit better. I think I'll take a shower, I sweat too much. And maybe get some work done.

- Okay, but take it easy Hyung. We don't want it spiking again.

- Okay.

The shower felt heavenly, given how much he had sweat during the night but at the same time, it stung a little, which meant he still had a fever.

But the bath made him feel a little better so he decided to work on some songs for the time being.

After 40 minutes, his body was feeling tired again, his head was beginning to hurt and he was starting to shiver again. He ate the little snack the boys had made for him and then went back to his bedroom.

- Kids, I'll go sleep some more...

- Okay, hyung. Sleep lots and sleep well. Call us if you need anything.

- yes. Thank you.

He made his way to his bedroom and upon getting there he noticed how tired he really was. He felt cold sweats and was shivering harder than before, he knew his fever was coming back but he just wanted to sleep. His head was starting to throb due to the coughing fit earlier and his eyelids were really heavy.

He lay down and was fast asleep within seconds.

After about 2 hours of the boys doing their things in the dorm and some of them being out, Lee Know decided to check on Chan again.

When he entered the oldest boy's bedroom, he encountered a similar scene to what he'd seen earlier. Chan was completely covered by his blankets and Lee Know could see him shivering underneath it.

- Hyung, it's Minho...excuse me

He said as he placed his hand on his hyung's forehead.

- I think your fever has gone up again...

He placed the thermometer on Chan's armpit and waited 5 minutes.

- 39.1°C! Hyung, take the medication again, and let's see if it'll go down again...

Chan didn't even have the strength to sit on the bed so Minho gave him the pill and a water bottle. He took it and turned to his side covering himself again.

Lee Know left the bedroom to meet with worried faces outside.

- How's Chan hyung?

- His fever spiked again. 39.1°C. he took the medication again, if it doesn't go down, we'll need to go to the hospital.

They were all worried about their oldest brother to the point they couldn't do anything else. They just sat in the living room as Lee Know texted the ones who were out and just waited to check on him again and see if the fever went down.

Chan tried his best to sleep but it felt like he was just taking little naps, he kept waking up, shivering violently under the blankets, and they were some pretty heavy blankets. His whole body ached and burned as if he had been lit on fire and even the feeling of his clothes touching his skin was painful.

His breathing was erratic as well which was not helping his headache and it made him dizzy.

He kept tossing and turning, no position felt comfortable but he kept his eyes closed, in hopes he'd eventually fall asleep but it just repeated the same patterns.

After about two hours, Lee Know decided to check on him again. He entered the bedroom and carefully pulled the blankets so he could place the thermometer and the number he saw in that little screen scared him.

- 40°C! It's not going down, it actually got worse.

At this moment, Chan who was trying to sleep, frowned his face and tried sitting up on the bed.

- Sorry...

He said weakly and seeing his struggle Lee Know helped him and as soon as he was upright, he brought a hand to his mouth.

- help me to the bathroom...

He said weakly and almost incomprehensible. Lee Know felt his stomach drop, he'd never seen Chan in that state. He wrapped his arms around the older boy carefully helped him out of the bed and guided him to the bathroom.

As he opened the door, Chan motioned him to stay outside, he didn't like showing this side to the kids.

Not wanting to stress his hyung, Lee Know stayed outside, feeling completely empty-handed and the other kids approached him.

- What's going on?

- He's not okay. His fever went up. And now he's throwing up.

Lee Know explained as they could clearly hear the sound of gagging on the other side of the door.

Inside the bathroom, Chan was holding the edges of the sink for support, since his fever was making him extremely dizzy. He felt his stomach revolting inside him, all its contents sloshing around like he was spinning. His mouth started watering and he kept spitting out thick saliva in unproductive gags.

He felt something stuck in his throat and broke into a coughing fit, straining his throat and making his whole body sting in pain.

The coughing fit turned into unproductive gags until he felt hot liquid rushing up his throat and a wet burp brought a thick stream of vomit. He barely had time to breathe before another stream gushed out arching his back.

He lifted his head and took a deep breath before another wave made its way out, mixing with the putrid mess in the sink.

The strain made his body ache even more than before and he was sure his fever had gone even worse.

He suddenly felt dizzy, his vision started to blur and he felt the floor sink beneath his feet. He tried his best to hold himself on the sink but failed and ended up falling. Thankfully he managed to slide down the sink cabinet but the sound of his back hitting it scared the boys.

- Hyung! Chan hyung! We're going in!

They opened the door of the bathroom to find Chan sitting down leaning on the cabinet, pale, face flushed with fever, hair stuck on his forehead due to sweat.

- Hey, hyung, can you hear me?

- hmm...

- What happened?

- Felt dizzy...I'm sorry... I'm fine now.

- no you're not fine! Call the manager, tell him what's happening. He needs to go to the hospital.

- Okay.

The boys said leaving the bathroom and leaving the two oldest alone.

- Hyung, let's get you to the bedroom. You need to lie down.

- No...I still feel like throwing up...

He said weakly, closing his eyes as he swallowed heavily and tried taking deep breaths. He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes in an attempt to control the urge to vomit but it didn't work.

- toilet...

He said weakly covering his mouth and Lee Know promptly helped him. He stood by his side rubbing his back up and down as a wet burp brought a thick stream of vomit.

- easy, hyung. You're doing good.

- god...

That's all he managed to say before coughing up another stream mixing with the putrid liquid inside the bowl with a sickening sound.

He spat out thick saliva and straightened his back for a brief moment to catch his breath and then ducked his head again when another wave made its way out. Lee Know could only watch and provide a little comfort by rubbing his hyung's back while the older boy proceeded to throw up.

After a few more rounds, he was left dry heaving and spitting out only saliva.

- I think you're done hyung.

- sorry...

He said as he slumped back into Lee Know's embrace, body shivering with a worryingly high fever, and consciousness almost gone because of it.

- Hey, hyung, stay with me.

- 'm tired...

At that moment someone knocked on the door. It was Felix saying that the manager was waiting for them in the garage to take Chan to the hospital.

- Hyung, I'm gonna help you up and I'll carry you to the car ok?

- sorry...thanks

Lee Know helped him to his feet and he barely kept his balance but the young one quickly placed himself in front of him so he could give him a piggyback ride. He asked the boys to get a mask for Chan and then left.

The ride to the hospital had Chan throwing up once, thankfully they had gotten a plastic bag beforehand so there wasn't a mess.

At the hospital, the doctor assessed him and quickly gave him an IV to help reduce the fever which was an alarming 41°C by the time they arrived there. He then got another IV to help with his dehydration and nausea, making him stay in the hospital until night.

Getting back to the dorms, he was carried to his room by Lee Know who lay him down on the bed and covered him. He went to the living room to explain the situation to the other members and what they'd do to take care of him in the following days.

Chan was bedridden for almost 5 days with his fever and vomiting persisting for 3 days and the boys took turns taking care of him.

Needless to say, Lee Know fell shortly after Chan followed by all the others, one by one, and during that time, it was pure chaos in that dorm.

[al-the-remix]

9 + 4!

4: Do you prefer writing multi-chapter or oneshot fanfictions?

I think both can be used effectively for different kinds of stories, but personally, I prefer writing and posting oneshots. I like to be able to take a step back and look at the whole and still make edits, I often find myself going back and still making important connections and edits as I get to the end of the story. Also, as I reader I enjoy being able to digest the story in one go, vs having to wait for chunks to come out and re-reading to remained myself of important plot points.

9: What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

I actually have a few of them, but on theme with the question above; the MacDonal's scene from White Fences. It was a last-minute addition and was one of my favourite scenes to write, fun and frivolous. Two old men going on their rookie date, living it up like it's 2007 ;____;

"Come on, G, live a little. When was the last time we went to get fries and cheeseburgers in the middle of the night," Sid said, then sucked his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. Zhenya knew when and Sid did, too. "We should go," Sid concluded. Zhenya would say he didn't know how he let himself get talked into these things except he knew exactly how. The large red sticker pressed flush against the glass, boasting a 24-hour operation. Zhenya pushed into the establishment, Sid close on his heels, and was hit immediately in the face with dry, warm air and the smell of cooking oil. It was pretty deserted at this hour of the night. A few runway workers from the airport were huddled together around two tables in the back and there was a lone middle-aged woman keeping the cash register warm, but other than that it was what you'd expect at a fast food joint in the middle of the night: desolate. "I'll order, you get us a table," Sid said, cutting into his thoughts. As if there'd be competition for this much free real estate. They were spoiled for choice. Sid left him in favour of the cashier without so much as asking what he'd like and Zhenya went to grab them a table by the window at the opposite corner of the store as the workmen. Zhenya pulled off his toque. Positive his hair would be flying up everywhere in thin wisps, he tried to pat it gently back into shape before giving up. From their table Zhenya had a good view of where Sid was making light conversation with the woman behind the counter as he waited for their orders. Zhenya tapped his fingers against the linoleum facing on the table. They used to go out like this all the time, even why they were on opposing teams and in foreign countries during Worlds and the Olympics Sid set a tray down covered in two milkshakes, two large fries, and four cheeseburgers. Before digging in, Sid peeled the pickles off of his own cheeseburgers and gave them to Geno to layer on top of his own. It made Zhenya feel like they were rookies again. Sid's pink, frost-bitten cheeks were pinched from smiling. "I figured your order was pretty much the same," he said between bites, dipping his fries in his McFlurry. He was still the strangest, most unique person Zhenya had ever met in his life. He was also Zhenya’s favourite. Zhenya took conscious bites of his hamburger, the spongy bun sticking strangely in between his new teeth. It took him longer to eat than it would have at home, but it was admittedly nice to get to eat adult human food again out in the open, like a person. "We should do this more often," Sid said, staring into the depths of his milkshake. Zhenya had a feeling he was eating slowly for Zhenay’s sake. Zhenya’s heart gave a weak pang. It was the first time Sid had alluded to this thing they had going on expanding outside the bubble they had created for themselves. Sid had always been there for him but they didn’t hang out much on their own anymore, after everything went down. Zhenya hadn't trusted himself. But now Sid was still staying at his house; Zhenya hadn’t asked him to leave and Sid hadn’t brought it up either, filling Zhenya’s chest with an aching, glass-like hope "That would be good," Zhenya said, a pleasant warmth curling in his stomach. When they had finished their food, they bundled back up and jogged back to the hotel in the cold. "I win," Sid said when he opened the door first, and Zhenya didn't bother to restrain rolling his eyes.

[lastchancevillagegreen]

Monday, 31 July 2023:

The Days of Our Nights Luna (Real Gone Music) (released in August 2023; original album released in 1999)

Outside of a 2016 pressing available only in the Captured Tracks box set Long Players 92-99 (and long out of print), this is the only pressing on vinyl in the US and it comes from the California label Real Gone Music who press a lot of unusual items (why do I think I want their Fanny reissues).

I've been following Luna since my brother introduced me to their debut Lunapark. I wasn't besotted with them, but oddly enough I always bought their albums. I'd long owned the 1996 Rykodisc box Galaxie 500 and went through a complete love affair with that band that made me appreciate Luna more. But it was Dean Wareham (front man for both bands) and his autobiography Black Postcards that really made me insatiable for his music and I've never missed a release of anything he has done regardless of what name it is under. (I still contend that his newest album, 2021's I Have Nothing To Say To The Mayor of LA is one of the best albums early in this decade.)

You see the album cover and the back of the jacket in the first two photos above. Below is a close up of the hype sticker.

The next two photos are of the front and back of the inner sleeve.

So how groovy is this orange swirl vinyl? Pretty darn groovy if you ask me. Check it out below in a standard shot and my copyrighted/ patented Sunshine Shot.

You can see both sides of the record label in the next two shots.

What a lot of people forget (and wikipedia is clueless and mentions none of this) is that this album, Luna's fifth release, was on their label Elektra, but the furthest the label got to releasing it was as a promotional item. The promo came out, but then the band got dropped. They were picked up by Jericho (a subsidiary of Sire) and when Jericho released the album the tracklist had changed. Here is that somewhat hard to find Elektra promo of this album. You can see for yourself the difference in the tracklist.

Note that the track Requiem For A Mouse no longer appears on the Real Gone Music version (and it did not appear on the Jericho pressing either). The song Words Without Wrinkles found on this album I have now (and on the Jericho pressing) did not appear on the Elektra promo. I have never owned the Jericho CD, instead, somehow I ended up with the European CD on Beggars Banquet which follows the exact same tracklisting as Jericho. If you are a Luna fan, then you need to track down a copy of the Elektra promo. Below, you can check out the Beggars Banquet CD. Keep in mind, the US Jericho CD also came with a white inlay tray.

[badapricot]

Lovely Writer: Special 1

This is a rough translation of the first Lovely Writer special. There are 8 in total and other side stories that the author compiled. I’ll try to post 1 a week since they do vary in length, and some are a lot lengthier than this one.

This special is from Nubsib’s POV and it’s about Nubsib remembering his feelings for Gene after seeing him on Facebook, and becoming fixated. Nubsib is 15 at the time and Gene is 20.

At that time, I was in the ninth grade.

Since middle school, my parents had sent me to study abroad with my brother. Because of the wealth of my family, this was never an inconvenience. But living alone in a place that wasn’t your home country required a lot of adjustment, mainly doing everything on your own. You had to learn things that you’ve never seen and known. 

This was one of the methods of teaching the sons of the Thanakitpaisan family.

It was their luck to have a son who was mature since childhood. It didn't take long for me to get used to the culture there, where I went to parties, attended sports clubs, worked a part-time job, and even had typical American teen sex. Being Asian did give me some advantages, when it came to distinguishing myself from the others.

I could only smile when talking to the many blonde women who bragged about our experiences in bed, amongst their group of friends. After some time, I felt differently about it.

"Sib.”

"Yes?" I leaned back on the sofa, and raised my head from his screen when I heard my name.

Neung came downstairs. He was wearing a thick gray cardigan with a scarf. "I’m going to go meet a friend. You're not going anywhere today, right? "

"Hmm."

"Okay, I might be coming back late. Please get my package when it arrives. You’re not going out with your girlfriend, right?”

"We broke up.”

"Huh?” Neung frowned. "You dumped another one? Again? You know, you don’t have the face of a womanizer.”

"…"

Neung opened the door of the house. For a moment, the cool outside air blew in, until the hot air from the heater disappeared. I didn’t care much about either, and stayed looking at my phone screen.

I’m not a womanizer.

It’s just that every time I got together with a girlfriend, something felt wrong. I knew I wasn’t in love with the first girl. The others, I didn’t like particularly much. Sometimes the girls didn’t like me much either, and only wanted a partner themselves, so we’d eventually separate.

It was true, that I was only in the ninth grade. But sex here was too normalized. It had become so normal that I’d become bored. When sex became so commonplace, all excitement was lost.

Mom: (send picture)

Mom: I’ve sent you Thai ingredients that should be delivered soon. They’ll be waiting for you.

Mom: Today, I went to see Aunt Run, do you still remember the house next door? Today is the Aunt's birthday. All of her sons have come home.

Mom: I saw it and I missed you and Neung.

I looked at the message that popped up, from the other side of the world. It was dark here, but over there it was probably in the middle of the day. It was time for them to eat.

Mom: Do you remember Gene? Gene and Jap are all grown up.

Gene?

After reading my mother’s message, it was natural to think of the past. I missed it. During my childhood I would run and play with him everyday, and just the same, Gene would play with me almost every day.

I still remembered “P’Gene” clearly after all these years.

We were five years apart. But we somehow became closer than me and my own brother. Since I moved out of the house, we never saw each other again. We didn’t have any more contact with each other.

When my mother talked about that time, I felt nostalgic.

I moved my finger to type to ask for a picture from my mother. In the end, I sent a simple sticker. I sat on the sofa in the living room for awhile before retiring to my bedroom to shower.

In my warm bedroom,  so different from the night air outside, I picked up my phone again. I went to Facebook to catch up with everything back home. My finger kept scrolling through my news feed, my face blank. I started to feel sleepy, but before I could fall asleep I saw a status.

I wasn’t friends with the person who posted. But I was friends with his mother, who was tagged in the photo.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture.

This year, my mother has lost another year, haha.

In the picture was a group of six people. The background was a wide garden and a long table. Both of my parents, and Auntie Run and Uncle Teep were there. But the one that most caught the eye was the man in the lower right corner.

The other person grinned until his eyes were crescents. His hands were raised, flashing a peace sign. His hand held a cake tray with a delicious golden egg. The corner of the mouth was stained with white cream, like he was teasing someone. He was smiling, which made his cheeks round and full.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. For a second, there was a strange numbness in my fingertips and toes.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who that was.

P’Gene.

He was still wearing a white uniform shirt. It had been many years since we’d met, if counted by age. Gene would have been in university for three years.

Usually, I was the kind of person who didn’t care about the people around me, or anyone else. But this time, I couldn't control my fingertips. I clicked onto Jap’s Facebook page.

Chasing him down, I found a status posted with the person I was looking for tagged.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture

My brother brought me to the movies. What kind of crazy alien movie is this? I might puke, but maybe you guys on Facebook will like it.

The post was from three days ago. One was a picture of a cinema ticket on the top floor of a department store in the heart of Bangkok and the other was of P’Gene in a T-shirt and jeans. He hugged a bucket of popcorn. His hand was holding a large glass of water, lifting it up to his lips and sucking. It was a funny candid photo that many of his friends on Facebook commented on to make fun of him.

...but for me, the only word that came to mind was “lovely”.

I didn’t know why I was doing this but I pressed “save that image”.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture

My stupid little brother, you make the whole house look bad.

They were in a garden in the corner of the house that felt familiar to me, but was a little fuzzy. They were in front of a flower bush that had been trimmed into a square. Gene was sitting down, with his butt on the ground. A blue hose fell next to him, the hose spraying in another direction. It made him wet all over soaking his shirt, the thin material clinging to his body.

Both of his arms were behind him, to support his body. Therefore, his shirt and body were stretched, so I could see two small nubs contrasted and poking through his white shirt.

My eyebrows furrowed together, and I frowned.

I cursed when my body immediately had a strong reaction, just from the one picture.

I pressed the comment section, when I saw the high number of comments.

Jiranon Jarernpipat: Jap stop posting pictures of other people.

(Reply) Jap Jarernpipat attached video clip.

I clicked play immediately.

"Ow, P’Jap!”

“Hahaha, why would you say you’ll help me water the plants? You can help if the grass is dead.”

“Can you turn off the water for me first? Why are you recording?”

P’Gene raised his white hand. He wiped the water from his face, and pushed himself off  the ground. His shirt clung to his body, so I could see everything. He had the voice of a man, but he was still so cute.

Finally, the clip ended.

There were still a lot of other videos that Jap posted pranking Gene, all of which stopped me from becoming bored. I saved all of them to my phone and computer. In the end, when more and more accumulated, I created a whole separate folder.

That night when I fell asleep, my brain was filled with pictures of the boy next door, who I hadn’t seen in years.

Another morning, days later, I woke up frowning, and I had to gently breathe out. I’d dreamt of P’Gene again. Since seeing that picture that night, there hadn’t been a day where I could go without seeing his face.

I knew Gene’s Facebook. But he didn’t update much, except to change his avatar or cover photo. But Jap’s Facebook page had tons of pictures of Gene. So I was still able to look at Gene’s pictures and progress in life everyday, like some kind of psychopath.

Even when I closed my eyes to sleep sometimes, I still saw his pictures.

I didn’t want to be this way, but I couldn’t control my subconscious.

I always saw Gene lying in my wide bed. He would smile at me, his cheeks soft and reddish. His hands would hold on to me, and his mouth would gently say, “Sib.”

It was a fantasy that any teenage boy would have. But it wasn’t a woman. Instead, it was the boy next door, who always loved and saw me as a brother.

I circled back to look at his pictures every day. In the end, the feeling accumulated like a huge mountain of snow.

I want to meet him in real life.

I want to hug him.

I want to smell him. 

I want to kiss his mouth. I want to do to him what I do in my dreams.

Since the day I saw his picture and until today, my thoughts and feelings had become more and more intense. So intense, that sometimes I was afraid of myself.

I’d already decided how I’d deal with this.

“Will you finish school here?” Neung had packed all his bags and was ready to go because he finished his studies. I leaned against the door frame, looking into his room.

“Actually, it’s nice here too, you know.”

"No, I'm going home."

“So you’ve changed your mind then?”

I nodded.

“Well, our house is nice and of course, our parents miss you too.”

"…"

"I'm not going to be here anymore, don't bring any women into the house...but you're not dating any girls lately. So it's fine."

I sent off my brother, who took a taxi straight to the airport to go back home to Thailand. Personally, I still had a year to complete my studies.

In the past, I had never thought or worried about how fast or slow time would pass. But now, I felt jealous of my brother.

Back at the house, I picked up the phone. I was still for a while. Maybe it was because Neung had returned to Thailand, but I felt like chasing pictures wasn’t enough anymore. My fingers moved before I could decide to send a message to someone.

Nubsib tanagijpaisarn: P'Jap.

Nubsib tanagijpaisarn: Do you remember me?

I wanted to talk to someone who could tell me everything about P’Gene. 

I wanted to learn everything about him.

[misslilli]

You guys are incredible, thank you so much ❤️ I don't want this story to ever end 😂

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 28 - Miss Undercover

[ FM ]

Don’t judge me, but I’ve become a creature of habit when it comes to frequenting coffee shops at the exact same time on the exact same day for the third time in a row now. When I hear the door open, I turn my head to see a small figure coming in, in black leggings and black boots, the hood of a black sweater pulled down low to obscure her face. I don’t need that one strand of red hair poking out to know who it is.

Stopping to stand before me, she hisses quietly. “Face forward. And whatever you do, don’t say my name!” Obviously, she doesn’t need to see who’s standing before her, either.

Maybe it’s the new boots I ordered from Land’s End.

I’m thoroughly confused by now but I do as I’m told, whispering out of the corner of my mouth. “Hey Eminem, what the heck are you doing?” With her head down, I have to strain my ears to hear her speaking out of the hood.

“I’m incognito this week. Parents. Talks about report cards. Don’t want to be harassed.” Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves, I stifle my laugh and order our drinks at the counter.

While we wait, some woman sidles up to us. “Miss Scully, is that you?”

With reflexes I’m quite proud of, I pull Miss Undercover into me to hide her face and the strand of hair from the woman’s eyes.

“Nope, not her. Just my girlfriend, she’s shy. She just had a bad case of the measles, you know, worst on the face, awful scarring… Bye now!” Balancing the paper tray with both cups in one hand, I lead Scully outside.

Once we’re safe, she steps away with a shove to my chest, glaring at me from under her hood, but I can see the smile tugging on her lips.

“Measles on my face, Mulder? You couldn’t come up with a better cover story?”

“Hey, I just saved your butt, a little gratitude for the Knight in shining armor?” I look down at the paper tray I’m holding to see that they haven’t put any names on our cups this time. “Aaaw man, they forgot our names this time. And I had such good names picked out!”

Scully takes a pen out of her purse and scribbles something on both of our cups, grinning. “There.”

I turn the cup over to read what she has scribbled and my eyebrows shoot up.

“Moose, Scully? I’m not sure if I should be offended at that.” I grab her wrist to turn her cup over as well. “And Squirrel? You’re a very strange woman…”

Laughing, she shrugs, pushes the hood off her head and we start walking, recounting our days this week so far. It sheds some light on her strange get-up, because it’s the last week before Christmas break and the parents come in to discuss the current status of their children’s report cards. And they seem to harass the teachers outside of school for a bit of a heads up of what to expect.

“You’re a pretty decent undercover agent, have you ever thought of joining the Bureau - you already have the perfect outfit!” She laughs and shakes her head.

“I’m sure they’d be so embarrassed by my love of rainbow colored outfits, they’d stick me in the basement to hide me away. And you’d be stuck having to check up on me, that I haven’t died from neglect down there for being the FBI’s Most Unwanted.”

“You’d be head of the Bureau in no time, we’re nothing but a bunch of little kids playing pretend, always misbehaving in some way or another, just like in school!”

“I’d give everyone who solves a case a golden stickers they can trade in to reach into the treasure box of sweets and pencils and mini-erasers.” The mental image of grown-up, tough as nails, Special Agents carrying guns with their own little star reward system is hilarious.

“I’m sure the solve-rate will go through the roof with those incentives!”

I’m a little sad we’ve reached our parting junction once again, I’m having such a good time just talking and bantering back and forth. It gives me a sense of calm, unlike the past few months when I’d spend my days obsessing over when I’m going to see her again. Now I know, it’s Tuesday afternoon after school. I hope it becomes a standing tradition.

We hug our semi-friendly half-hug goodbye and she gives me a little wave on top of it, before turning to walk back home.

“I’ll see you around, Moose!”

“You bet, Squirrel!”

—————

[ DS ]

I get home that day with a sense of calm I haven’t felt in a long time. The preparations of the Christmas celebrations have given me a much welcomed distraction and slowly, as the first flakes of snow fell, the ache inside my chest begins to let up.

Just like the snow settling inside a shaken snowglobe, I begin to see a little more clearly.

Countless sessions with both my therapist and my friends have been spent facing the demons of my past relationships and while it’s been a pretty bumpy ride, I feel like I’ve come a long way since that afternoon in the gym.

The girls are out grocery shopping, so I settle down on the couch with my e-book reader, diving into the world of The Seven Sisters, a series of books I’ve been enjoying for the past few years.

I get so lost in the adventures of one sister in Australia, I’m startled at the noise the girls makes when they get home from the store. Putting my Kindle aside to help them with the groceries, they pull me into their excited conversation about the upcoming field trip to the Chocolate Factory.

Once that topic has been exhausted, we move on to the Christmas party at The Cabby Shack. “Hey D, have you picked an outfit for the Christmas party yet?”

“I did, I’m wearing my favorite Christmas sweater, you know the one with Rudolph on the front and the red pompom for his nose.”

We’ve made it a tradition to wear our most cringey sweaters for this party and they’re always a big hit with the crowd.

“I’m glad we’re going this year after all. I thought you’d be much too sad to come but you seem to be doing better, D. Am I right?” Nodding, I give her a smile.

“Yeah I am. I feel like I’ve come out the other side, finally. In a big part thanks to you guys!”

“Ya, we’re pretty awesome, right girls?”

The casual meet-ups with Mulder, which are not as casual as they might seem, is the first thing I haven’t shared with the girls in as long as I can remember. And I won’t share my plans for the Christmas party with them either.

They’re my little secret to keep.

[mintaka14]

For the Lady’s Favour

A Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter One

 Alya made soothing noises while Marinette moaned softly.

“It was just a setback,” Alya reassured her.

“It was a disaster was what it was,” Marinette mumbled into her desk, and wrapped her arms over her head. “Why does it always have to be so hard? Maybe the universe just doesn’t want me to be with Adrien.”

“I am not letting the universe dictate to us!” Alya insisted, and anyone watching would have felt for the universe in the face of Alya’s expression. As it was, Marinette didn’t look up.

“I’m just so tired,” Marinette muttered. “I’m tired of trying so hard to just speak to him without turning into a babbling mess. I’m tired of trying to get him to notice me.”

Alya patted her on her back.

“Why can’t someone chase me for a change? Where’s a knight in shining armour when you need one? Every anime heroine has one, why can’t I?”

Alya’s hand slowed. “You might be onto something there,” she said thoughtfully, but Marinette didn’t hear her.

“Someone willing to do brave deeds to win me,” Marinette said wistfully. “Go on quests, and do stuff to prove that I’m more than a good friend.”

Alya was sitting out of her line of sight. It sounded like she was writing something, but when Marinette turned to look Alya waved her away.

“You were saying about brave deeds?”

“I’d settle for a cup of coffee and someone who actually wants to spend time with me.”

“Got it,” Alya said, and Marinette swivelled around at the sound of tearing paper, but Alya had folded whatever it was out of sight. She reached across Marinette and snagged an envelope from the stationery drawer. As an afterthought, Alya snatched up a tiny sticker of a ladybug and added it to the envelope.

“Listen, I’ve got to meet Nino in a minute,” Alya told her a little guiltily. “You gonna be okay? I can come back later…”

Marinette waved her away with one hand. “I’m fine.” She sighed. “It’s not like I’m not used to crushing humiliation.”

She was engulfed in a hug, and then Alya whirled away to the staircase, the envelope in her hand.

“You will be fine,” her friend insisted. “Trust me.”

The door clicked shut, and Marinette frowned.

“Why did that sound so ominous?” she asked the suddenly silent bedroom.

~~~~~

Once the afternoon rush in Café des Fleurs started to settle, Luka paused to flick his blue-dyed hair out of his eyes and glanced around the tables. Everything seemed under control for the moment, no one needing refills, no empty tables that needed to be cleared. Most of the faces that afternoon were new to him, but one of the tables near the counter was occupied by three teenagers laughing over something.

The blond boy looked familiar, and Luka frowned, trying to remember where he knew him from. He wasn’t a regular customer. The kid with the headphones around his neck and the amiable expression was, though, and Luka remembered Nino because he had good taste in music and sometimes stopped to chat whenever the counter wasn’t too busy. Nino’s girlfriend, the sharp-eyed girl with the glasses, was pointing at the noticeboard beside the counter, and Luka turned to look.

The envelope pinned to the board that she was gesturing at hadn’t been there at the start of his shift, he was sure of that. He’d put up a flyer for his band’s gig on Friday, and there definitely hadn’t been an envelope of any sort there then. In fact, he could have sworn it wasn’t there before Nino and his girlfriend arrived in the middle of the afternoon rush.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning on the counter, as the girl unpinned it with overdone surprise and handed it to the blond boy.

“I wonder what this is, Adrien?” she asked disingenuously.

Radiant. Carefree. Dreamy. Adrien the Fragrance.

Luka’s eyebrow rose as he made the connection. Huh. That explained why the blond boy was so familiar. He’d been plastered on every billboard in Paris, and played out on every media site for what felt like months. Pretty enough, Luka supposed, but a little too synthetic for his taste.

“Are you brave enough?” the girl was reading from the envelope. “Well, are you going to open it, Adrien?”

“What if it’s for someone else?” the blond boy responded, turning it in his hands.

“There’s no name on it. Go on, you should open it.”

Egged on by his friends, Adrien opened the envelope, and Luka watched the the boy’s eyes go wide as he read the letter inside. He was looking for all the world as though every Christmas had come at once. And Nino’s girlfriend was trying to suppress a satisfied, and rather smug, smirk.

Luka bit back an amused smile, and turned away to deal with another customer, too busy to pay them any more mind for a while until he looked up from the coffee he was pouring to find the blond boy standing in front of the counter.

Radiant. Carefree… Damn. He was going to have that stuck in his head all day now. Hadn’t his sister said something about going to school with Adrien Agreste, the model?

The boy tapped the envelope on the edge of the counter, and then slid it towards Luka.

“I don’t suppose you saw who left this on the noticeboard, did you?” he asked hopefully. Luka sent a quick glance towards the table where Nino and his girlfriend wer sitting.

Pretty sure that was your friend’s girlfriend. He didn’t voice the thought, and, after all, he didn’t know for sure. Were they playing some kind of prank on the blond model?

“Sorry, mate,” he told Adrien. “But it can’t have been that long ago. It wasn’t there before the rush started.”

Adrien spun around to eye off the busy tables, but there were mostly middle-aged office workers and a couple of families with very young children, and he slumped noticeably.

“She’s not here,” he muttered. He turned back to Luka with a smile that looked a little too practised to be genuine. “Thanks, though.”

The girl leaned in as Adrien slid back into the chair beside her, and she seemed to be insisting on something. In the glimpses he had of the table between customers, Luka could see her talking hard at Adrien while the model scribbled something on a piece of paper in front of him with a look of deep concentration. Nino seemed to be staying out of it.

Luka was sliding a tray of coffee and pain au chocolat across the counter for the waitress to collect when Adrien approached the counter again, looking nervous now.

“Excuse me?”

Luka gave him an easy smile, and a raised eyebrow.

“Can I… put something on the noticeboard?”

“Feel free,” Luka said, and then his attention was claimed by a woman ordering café crème to go. When he finally had a moment to glance up, Adrien seemed to be getting ready leave, and there was a folded piece of paper pinned to the spot where the envelope had been. Luka leaned on the counter, waiting for the next move.

Sure enough, as soon as the model was out the door and into the expensive-looking black car that had pulled up outside the café, Nino’s girlfriend was taking down the note Adrien had left on the board. Nino didn’t look happy about it, Luka noticed.

“Alya,” the boy said, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

She gave him a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s fine, Nino. It’s genius. You’ll see.”

They gathered their bags and headed for the door, neither of them seeing the sceptical lift of Luka’s eyebrow as he collected up their empty cups and gave the table a wipe. The customers got stranger every day.

~~~~~

Marinette hadn’t been expecting to see Alya again that afternoon, and when her bedroom trapdoor crashed open, the pencil swerved across the design she’d been sketching. Marinette muttered under her breath, and reached for the eraser.

“Tadah!” Alya announced, producing a folded page with a flourish and a smug grin. She held it out to Marinette. “You can thank me later.”

“What?” Marinette turned it in her hands, frowning at the little paw print drawn in one corner. “Alya, what is this?”

“This is your very own secret knight. Go on, read it!”

“Alya, what are you talking about?”

“Remember you were talking about wanting someone to do heroic deeds for you? So you don’t have to trip over yourself trying to get them to notice you?”

“Alya –“

“Just read it!” her friend said impatiently, and Marinette unfolded the page, reading the message inside.

‘My lady, Your bravery in issuing the challenge shall not go unmarked. I would be honoured to try for your favour with heroic deeds …’

“Alya, what the hell is this?!”

Alya’s grin grew wider and sharper. “Remember what you were talking about? Well, I just wrote it down and put it up on the public notice board at that coffee shop near the park. And someone took it!”

“Alya!”

Marinette stared at her friend in growing horror.

“How could you do this?! Someone wants to try for my favour? What kind of weirdo would do that?? What kind of friend would do that? I don’t even know who this is from! What if this is some creepy perv? What if –“

“Mari, calm down,” Alya cut off her rising panic. “Look, you’ve got nothing to lose here. They don’t know who you are, you don’t know who they are, you never have to even talk to them in person if you don’t want – it’s perfect.”

“Who – wha –“

“And of course I’m going to check them out for you, and make sure they’re not some skeev,” Alya added soothingly. She put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders, leaning down to meet her eyes. “I’ve got you covered. And, hey, what if it’s some really cute teenage boy who’ll love you forever? All you have to do is send a note back and get them to do something to show they’re serious.”

Marinette’s head was still spinning. “Like – what?”

Alya shrugged. “Coffee’s always a good start. Coffee’s a good first date, and you can find out a lot about a person by their taste in drinks. Ask them to send a coffee to wherever you want, and I’ll even deliver your request to the noticeboard myself. You don’t have to do a thing except wait for it to turn up. I’ve got you.”

“Coffee?” Marinette found herself repeating stupidly, and Alya gave her a grin.

“Or something like that.”

“I can do coffee. One drink can’t hurt, can it?”

[cherrycocaineee]

4. Park Jimin - Cafe Date

    Sandalwood and bonfire candles burned throughout the house drifted through the open door blanketing my nose while I was hanging up some fake spider webs. Marshall was carrying the bundle of webs in his arms while I weaved them in the corners. Mom came out with a tray with two glasses filled with eggnog; a large smile appeared on her face when she saw how much we’ve done in a short period of time.

  “This is beautiful. You kids did such a great job!” She praised.

 “Mom,” Marshall said, “we aren’t kids. I’m literally twenty-two, and Brielle is nineteen.”

  “You’ll always be kids to me.”

Marshall and I put the decorations down to enjoy the nice, sweet, holiday drink that our mom had brought out to us. While I took small sips, Marshall gulped it down in a single swift motion.

  A black Porsche pulled into our driveway, coming to a complete stop inches from our garage door. The windows were tinted, so none of us could see whoever was inside the vehicle, until the door opened and climbed out of they’re seat.

Jimin’s blonde hair and black roots appeared as he lifted himself out of his car, a happy smile on his handsome face.

  “안녕 자기!” (Hi, sweetheart!)

 Excitement ran through my body as I saw and heard my boyfriend, and nearly lunged myself off the porch while running into his open arms. Jimin and I began dating when I was eighteen years old, and it was great but difficult since he was constantly touring and because he lived in South Korea.

  The two of us hugged each other tightly.

 “지민, 한 달 더 있을 줄 몰랐어.” (Jimin, I wasn’t expecting you for a month.)

Neither one of us was great at speaking the opposite language that the other spoke but we still tried. If that didn’t show we loved each other, then I didn’t know what did.

  We pulled away from each other and he pressed a gentle kiss against my temple. Marshall and my mom came off the porch and greeted Jimin. My family enjoyed having my boyfriend around and they treated him like family because of that. From where we stood, I could still smell the candles burning in the house, surprisingly.

  “Jimin, would you like to come in for some eggnog?” Mom asked, her voice sweet and angelic.

 A look of confusion swept against his face before he understood completely what my mom was asking him.

  “Ah ~ no, thank you. I wanted to take Brie out for some, uh,” he made a drinking motion with his hand, “some coffee.”

Of course I was going, but I had to finish putting up the Halloween decorations for my mom. Jimin even offered to help. So for the next forty-five minutes, Jimin and I put the rest of the cobwebs up and even added some yard decorations including skeletons, tombstones, a scary pumpkin, and more webs in the trees along with fake, realistic bats and spiders.

   Taking a step back to view our work, Jimin and I smiled in accomplishment. He turned to me and grabbed my small hand. I tightened my grip. After mom admired our work, Jimin led me to his car, opened the passenger's side, and held my hand as I stepped inside the vehicle. Once he was in the car, he started the ignition, and pulled out of the driveway heading towards a coffee shop a block from my mom’s home.

As Jimin was driving, I looked out the window watching the shopkeepers putting up their simple decorations like jelly stickers and hanging ghosts. Jimin parked the car next to the coffee shop and we scooted out. On the two large windows, there were assortments of those jelly stickers that everyone else had in town. Some were pumpkins, ghosts, bats, black cats, spiders, and more spooky, Halloween characters. Jimin opened the door, the small ring of the bell echoing off the shop’s walls, and gestured me inside.

   Pumpkin spice and freshly grounded coffee pierced our noses as we entered and I inhaled deeply. I loved coffee, I loved the smell of coffee, and I especially loved the aroma during the fall. During this cool season, the smell was more intense and the warmth of it was like a blanket for my nose only. The taste was just as euphoric.

Both of us walked up to the counter, listening to the sound of talkative customers sitting at tables, and looked at the menu. I didn’t really need to look, I always got the same thing every time I came here but Jimin did. I helped him with some of the words he didn’t understand and in the end, we ordered. Jimin got an iced caramel macchiato with extra caramel syrup, and I got a pumpkin spice latte. After the barista handed our drinks, we swiped a booth near the window so there was a nice view of the multicolored leaves falling to the concrete as the wind shook them off their branches.

   I sat across from Jimin, against the window. Jimin smiled at me.

  “How have you been?” He asked, his English better than when we first met, he’d definitely been practicing.

  “I’ve been good,” I said, taking a small sip of my pumpkin coffee, “really good actually. How have you been?”

  “Really tired, but good. I have been practicing my English more since we have been coming to America more often.”

  “I can tell, you’re getting much better.”

Jimin and I took a drink of our beverages before resuming conversation.

  “How are you doing with learning Korean?” He questioned, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the cool liquid.

I frowned and sighed, “it’s much harder than it looks, if I’m being honest.”

   I reached into my bag, which I had grabbed as we were leaving my mom’s, and pulled out a notebook that I took everywhere with me. Inside the Five Star spiral notebook were all of my Korean lessons. I opened the notebook and laid it out in front of us. Jimin leaned forward.

  “I get really confused on how to pronounce each character,” I muttered.

  “It is okay,” Jimin chirped, “I will help you since I am here.”

We spent some time on the lesson and Jimin taught me how to pronounce a lot in a twenty-five minute time span, but now the two of us were distracted by laughing at stupid things because I had mispronounced one of the characters.

    My laughter died down as my phone buzzed. Jimin leaned back and rested his arm over the back of the seat while sipping on his coffee. I picked my phone up and glanced at it. The name of my group chat popped up on the front screen and I saw that one of my friends was asking about the assignment due for Mr. Michael’s class. I chose not to answer it right now.

  “Important?” Jimin questioned.

 “Just a group chat for school,” I informed, “jealous?”

 He laughed out and it was the most captivating noise I’ve ever heard. Jimin shook his head.

  “Absolutely not,” he giggled some more, “I love and trust you.”

I covered my mouth as a small laugh escaped my own mouth.

   “How is school?” He asked.

  “It’s going great,” I said, “straight A’s. How’s touring?”

   “Oh it is amazing. I love being able to meet Army and be on several talk shows with funny people.”

  I smiled wide, “who’s your favorite talk show host?”

  “Jimmy Fallon and James Cordon. They are my favorite.”

I loved watching the interviews with Jimin and his group members, they always seemed to have so much fun with it. The idea of him traveling all through America and other countries meeting new people and performing new songs for their fans. I loved traveling, so I hoped some day that I would get to travel too, either with Jimin or alone.

   Jimin leaned forward again.

 “I was thinking maybe you can come visit South Korea on your vacation,” he said, “I will pay for the ticket.”

  My brown orbs widened at his words. I was shocked by his invitation because I never thought he would ask me to come visit him in Korea. But what shocked me the most was what he said next.

  “I want you to meet my mom and dad. I already told them about you, they are wanting to meet you too.”

  “Oh Jimin,” I whispered, a few tears escaping my eyes and sliding down my cheek, thanking myself for not wearing any makeup today.

  He grabbed my hand, “사랑해, 브리.” (I love you, Brie.)

  “사랑해요, 지민.” (I love you, Jimin.)

After we finished drinking our coffee, I ordered another to go and we left. Jimin didn’t have to worry about fans seeing him here because the town was so small, so Jimin wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we walked to the car. It was a subtle romantic gesture, and I loved it.

   Jimin, once again, opened the passenger’s side and helped me in. I thanked him and he leaned down, kissing me on the forehead. On the drive home, Jimin rested his hand on my thigh and we jammed out to crappy music playing on the radio at that time.

Marshall was sitting outside with his friend, Jackson, when Jimin pulled into the driveway. I looked over at Jimin.

  “Do you have somewhere to be, or do you want to come in and watch a movie?”

He took a quick glance at his phone before answering, “I have time. Come on, we can watch a romantic movie.”

  Jimin was always a big flirt, even when I first met him. It was one of the qualities that I loved the most about him. The two of us kissed. His hand touched the side face with his large hand, deepening the kiss and making my heart flutter. When he pulled away, I bit my bottom lip.

  “Come on,” he said, his voice was husky from the kiss, “let’s go inside.”

Nodding, I followed my boyfriend inside the house. My brother and his friend waved at us as we passed. However, we didn’t stop for long to chat, I knew Jimin would be leaving soon and I knew I would be able to see him for months, so I wanted to spend as much time with him alone.

   We decided on an action movie, and cuddled into my bed, entangled into each other’s arms. I looked up at Jimin and felt love and admiration for this man. He was honestly the most amazing man I ever knew. He looked down at me, pressed a single peck on my forehead, and nuzzled closer to me. The sound of his heartbeat thumping against his chest mixed with the sound of the movie playing. I felt at ease and relaxed against him. Everything was perfect.

[nalgenewhore]

Slipping Through My Fingers - Two

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

warnings: none

an: this chapter’s a lil shorter than usual 

Elide woke up alone, sprawled across her bed.

Groaning softly into the skin of her upper arm, she stretched and rolled over, blinking her eyes at sunny skies behind her side-by-side windows, sixth paned with rounded tops. Her gaze travelled to the canopy-esque set up she had above her bed, a simple wooden-pole square that she hung a multitude of plants from. 

Lorcan was gone, and she was grateful for that. It was always awkward, waiting around for a hook-up to leave so she could get on with her day. 

But Lorcan was… great. Really, he was. The sex had been amazing and he was gorgeous, truly beautiful, but it wasn’t just that. They got along well, when they were just lying in her bed, when she was sitting on her kitchen table and they were eating cereal. It was easy to laugh with him, to talk and banter with him. Elide groaned again and rolled over onto her stomach. You do not have the time for this, she reminded herself. 

She huffed and got out of bed, feeling that old familiar ache between her legs and on the bruises sucked onto her skin as she shuffled into the bathroom and turned on her shower. 

As the water warmed up, Elide shrugged on her fluffy bathrobe and went out to check her phone, opening the message from Nehemia, one of her new teacher colleagues. After Elide had moved from Perranth to Orynth, her sister Aelin had introduced her to her closest friends. They had all hit it off almost instantaneously and it was like they’d known each other all their lives. 

She was a little less freaked out by her new job now that she knew she’d have at least one friend there. 

NY: still down for brunch with the girlies?

EL: you know it 

EL: 11?

NY: see you then! i’m going shopping for classroom stuff later, wanna join?

EL: gods yes - completely forgot about that whoops

Plans for the day made, Elide turned on her music and hopped in the shower, the warm stream washing away the last night and the feeling of disappointment that she couldn’t quite place. 

After her shower, Elide dried and curled her hair, throwing on the red wrap dress that Aelin had made for her - it was from her newest collection and all of her friends often got the throwaways, not that there was ever anything wrong with them. Elide paired it with simple white sneakers and dropped her wallet, phone, keys, and a reusable bag into a white cross-body purse before she left her apartment complex. 

It was beautiful outside, a perfect late-August day so she decided to walk the short-ish distance to the Faliq family bakery, where Nesryn worked as a pastry chef alongside her father. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide walked into the air conditioned bakery to find Nesryn precariously balancing trays of mouth-watering, decadent pastries. She quickly moved, saving a plate of mille feuilles with pastry cream and strawberries from crashing to the floor. “Hey, Nes.” 

Nesryn grinned, “El, thank the gods.” She blew a flyaway strand of hair that had escaped her half-up, half-down bun do. “Cute dress.” She herself was wearing a pair of flour covered overalls and a black crop top, a pair of slip-on sneakers on her feet. They walked out to the patio to their normal table, where their friends were already sitting. 

“Thanks, Ae gave it to me. I’m liking the overalls look,” Elide said, setting down the tray and taking her seat beside her sister. “Gods, these look fucking amazing, Nes.” Lysandra passed her a glass filled with ice coffee as Nesryn sat down next to her fiancée and blushed under the praise. 

They dug in, catching up on each other’s lives. Nesryn and Lysandra had just returned from a vacation in Eyllwe and Nehemia lamented about missing home, but Elide knew she would never actually go through with forgetting everything and moving back. The wedding band on her finger and the matching one on Fenrys’ told a different tale. Their eloping was the best decision either of them had ever made. 

Elide commented on how happy Aelin looked, despite being awake and coherent before noon and her sister shyly shared she’d been seeing someone, a man named Rowan. Nehemia smiled, it seemed as though Rowan was a good friend of Fenrys’ and Fenrys had actually introduced the two of them. Aelin looked absolutely smitten and they were all so happy for her. She deserved a happy love, after her parents, after Sam… 

When Elide reached for the jam, her wrap top shifted and exposed one of the dark marks on the curve of her breast. Aelin squawked and Elide flushed, sitting back down, a hand over her chest as she watched her sister splutter. “Yes, Aelin?” 

“Wha- what- what is that?” The blonde reached over and used the tip of her index finger to pull back the neckline of Elide’s dress, baring the mark and the countless others on her pale skin. Elide slapped her sister’s hand away, preferring that she didn’t expose her in public. “Elide!” 

Everyone else gasped, intrigued as Elide relented. “Fine! I may have met a man at Emrys’ and hooked up with him… in the alley.” 

Her friends’ eyes widened as Aelin’s jaw dropped and soon enough they were congratulating her, pestering her for extremely intimate details she refused to give until they finally dropped the subject and went back to eating. 

“But was he any damn good?”

Elide hummed and sipped from her cold drink, “He was pretty any damn good.”

An hour later, they helped Nesryn clear the table and carried everything into the kitchen, saying hello to her father and mother. Sayed, her father, refused to let them leave without bags or boxes, depending on the choice, of their personal favourites. He claimed they were just laying around and they played along, but they knew better. 

Elide climbed into Nehemia’s car and they were off to the nearest craft and office supplies store. There was a sale and they thanked the gods. The school paid for… not enough and if they wanted their classes to be adequately decorated, they would have to pay out of pocket for a lot of it. 

Nehemia taught seventh grade at their school, while Elide taught kindergarten, so her class was much more brightly coloured. 

Currently, she was comparing a pack of Mr. Sketch Markers and regular old Crayolas. Nehemia glanced over at the packs, “Mr. Sketch are way better. I swear, they’ve never bled and they smell good.” 

She laughed and dropped the Mr. Sketch into her cart, checking off markers on her list. “Alright… I just need some… sticker paper for desk labels.” 

Nehemia nodded, “Sounds good. I really hope my stuff is hip enough.” Elide laughed again and she insisted, “Do you know how scary seventh grade girls are? I can’t have them dissing my class!” 

“I think you’ll be fine, Mi,” she said dryly, shaking her head a bit. “If I had you as my seventh grade teacher, I would’ve been in love with you, 100%.” 

“Aw, really?” 

“Totally!” 

“That’s so sweet!” Nehemia dropped a packet of thumbtacks into her basket and sighed, “Alright, I think I’m done for now. What about you?” 

“Just the sticker paper and then I’ll be good to go.” 

They quickly located the paper and Elide got a few packs before they made their way to the registry. She looked up as she was bagging her things in the cotton bag she’d brought, eyes landing on a tall man with dark hair thrown up in a messy bun. 

She almost called out ‘Lorcan’, but he turned and she didn’t recognize him. A weird feeling sunk into the pit of her stomach. Maybe she did regret only knowing him for one night, but it’s not like she could do anything about it. 

Slightly deflated, she remained mostly silent as Nehemia dropped her off. “El, are you alright? You seem a little bit…” 

Elide waved her off, “No, yeah, ‘m fine. I think I’m just tired. Hot today.” 

Nehemia didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the subject as Elide kissed her cheek and hopped out, waving when she unlocked the door of her building and slipped inside. 

Sleeping with Lorcan wasn’t a mistake, she didn’t regret that, but now that she thought about it… she would’ve liked to have seen him sleeping beside her in the morning. Would’ve liked to know how he took his coffee and how he kissed her good-bye.  

Making a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, Elide unlocked the door to her studio apartment and leaned back against the door in the dark, just staring at the empty space. 

There was something rumpled on the floor and she dropped her bags, walking towards it. It was her dress, somehow not ripped even though they hadn’t exactly been patient when they got to her apartment. 

With another groan, Elide changed aggressively in an old hoodie and sweats, ruining her curls by throwing her hair into a sloppy bun and plopped down on her bed, using the remote to turn on the TV mounted on the opposite wall. 

Feeling peckish, Elide stood up from bed and walked over to the kitchen. She grabbed the box of pastries Sayed had given her, opening it up to find an Earl Grey and honey-flavoured St. Honoré, which was a layer of puff pastry that served as a base for the large cream puffs dipped in caramel, filled with Earl Grey and honey infused pastry cream, and topped with whipped cream. 

Her mood lifted slightly as she cut herself a slice and read the note that Nesryn had left, letting her know that she’d been tweaking with the recipe and asking Elide to let her know what she thought. 

Elide took herself and her pasty back to bed after turning on her kettle and putting a scoop of loose tea into her diffuser-ball and dropping it in a mug. 

She sighed as she navigated to Netflix and clicked on a movie, already calling Aelin. Aelin didn’t get a word in before Elide was saying: “Clueless?” 

Her sister agreed immediately, “Clueless.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

@mythicaitt​​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @westofmoon​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @thesirenwashere​ @queenofxhearts​ @maastrash​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @cursebreaker29​​ @superspiritfestival​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @queen-of-glass​ @sleeping-and-books​ @beccasophia95​ @exersize-me-i-dare-u​ @thewayshedreamed​ @hizqueen4life​

[ussgallifrey]

Up On The Housetop

✦ Summary: You meet him in the most peculiar of ways. Or, the five times Bucky was incapable of using a door and the one time he was. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Warnings: Mentions of violence ✦ Word Count: 2.1k ✦ Author’s Note: I was listening to Christmas music when I had this hysterical image of Bucky crashing through a window as the song played in my head. It sparked this. 

01. Journey Coffee House, Midtown Manhattan - November 13, 2026

You're already running late for work when you enter the busy cafe. The downpour outside had spurred you on in search of something warm. Anything to get your day moving in a better direction after the failed alarm and lack of matching scrubs to wear. There's a line wrapped around the front tables, stopping with you directly off to the side of the front doors.

If you bought the boss's usual order, you might be able to smooth this right over. As the minutes tick by and the line slowly eases forward, you're praying for a miracle to get you off the hook for being so late. By the time you make it down to the hospital, you'll be at least fifteen minutes behind. Maybe a few chocolate scones would need to be bought to make it pass with the head nurse.

"Oh my god," someone behind you says before the sharp crash of glass against the floor has the place thrown into a panic.

Screams ring out as a fight rages on, only feet away from you. A soaking wet mess of black tactical trying to pull some freak in neon green off his back.

They're clambering for control over broken glass shards, sending patrons scattering in the moment. With your back pressed up against the still intact window, the men struggle past you. Before the one in black sends the other down by throwing him into a table. It splits in half with the sudden weight. And then he's on top of the guy in green.

You let the breath you were holding in finally release. The man stands up, bruised and worse for wear as he sheepishly surveys the damage. And then he's hauling the other guy off the floor and out into the downpour of the street. 

It takes you a full hour to get to work and by that point news footage of the Avengers fighting has taken over the TV at the nurse's station. A video pans across the devastation to show the Winter Soldier dragging the wannabe villain down the street.

02. Bank of America, Lower Manhattan - November 21

This week has Saturday as your one day to get all the errands done. Which, unfortunately, means going in to pay off a portion of your bank loan. Ever since last winter when the major storm in January took out your furnace and busted a water pipe in the apartment above you, things had been unbearably tight in the financial sense. But it was almost paid off, a damn year later.

You're almost finished up with the teller when a series of gunshots ring out in the open lobby. 

A startled scream escapes your throat as the world grows hazy. Surrounded by a group of guards stands a masked man. He's saying something, but you can't really hear it with the hot wave of terror running through your veins. But as people start dropping to the ground, you're quick to follow.

If it was just a robbery, there wouldn't be all the theatrics. But it seems the main guy ranting in the center of the room has a personal vendetta against this particular bank - just your luck, of course. He's got a gun pointed at an employee in a blue suit, something about past employment being vehemently spat out.

A guard pulls your purse in search of valuables - he'll be lucky if he finds anything. Maybe a handful of quarters for the vending machine and a few dollars rolling around in an otherwise empty wallet.

And then there's a burst of glass. Shielding your eyes as the decorative ceiling falls in, you hear the drop of boots on the marble floor. And then punching, shouting, more shooting. You dare a peak, finding a flash of red and black wings. Curling in further to make yourself as small as possible between the wooden divider of the teller's booth.

A final punch brings heavy breaths and then… silence. Slowly bringing your head up, you see two of the Avengers wiping blood from their mouths as they round up the group of robbers. Another rush of team members follows shortly after as they check for damage.

The Winter Soldier meets your silent gaze and he gives you a funny look in return. A small quirk of his lips as he recognizes you from the cafe just a week prior. And oddly enough, you feel yourself smiling back before an agent walks over to check you for injuries. He's already gone once you've been cleared to go.

03. Brooklyn Hospital's Emergency Department, Brooklyn - December 4

Things have been relatively calm for a Friday. Enough time in between patients gives you and a few of the other nurses a chance to put up more of the usual decorations. Snowflake garland along the main desk. A small tree in the waiting room. Stockings behind the nurse's station bearing the names of the main residents. 

"Hey, Sara? Can you hand me another one?" You ask, balancing rather haphazardly on a desk chair as you press red and green ornament stickers onto the window.

The automatic doors slide open with a rush of cold air and a loud amount of bickering. Hopping down, you catch the sight of dark crimson as two figures rush towards the desk.

"'m fine," the one says.

"Like hell you are," the other barks, seemingly holding the majority of the bleeding man's weight.

There's a flurry of people as the one is brought back to a room. 

"Yeah," Sam Wilson sighs with a heavy hand against his forehead, "He jumped from the thirty-first floor."

You gape, amazed that anyone could survive that fall - let alone walk after it. And then your brain clicks together when you realize who the two men are.

Your name is shouted from the first exam room by the doctor on call, "All hands on deck!"

In an instant, you're there with three other nurses, applying pressure to the main lacerations. Squeezing down on the right forearm as the doctor applies pressure to the massive wound on the inner thigh, the Winter Soldier groans.

And then he blinks as another nurse tries to place an oxygen mask on him before he loses consciousness. He tries to bat at it with his metal hand to little avail. But then he seems to meet your gaze. 

"'Course you'd be here."

And he laughs. He collapses back as he full-on laughs.

04. Flatbush Shopping Center, Boerum Hill - December 17

The mall is pleasantly warm but far too crowded for your taste. However, you're desperately scouring for a secret Santa gift for the Christmas Party and you've all but ran out of options before it starts in four hours. The opportunity hadn't presented itself until today, as you covered shifts and worked the graveyard hours more often than you would have liked.

It took enough energy just to throw your scrubs in the wash and eat a microwave meal before collapsing on your bed. You certainly hadn't had the energy left to actually shop. But now your time had run out and you were only allotted a few more hours before something had to be wrapped and delivered.

The crazed holiday shoppers don't fully overpower the sparkling decor, yet. The arches of garland, the silver and gold tinsel bells, the giant lighted candy canes. It's a nice change of pace from the homemade decor at the emergency room. And it smells better too, something warm and sweet wafting through the mall from Auntie Anne's. 

And then there's a cracking and shattering spray of glass as a fight breaks out. Somehow, you're not even surprised by who you see. A flash of dark hair and gleaming metal as a jingling green elf is tackled to the ground. 

A crowd's forming, phone's raised to try and capture the Winter Soldier attacking one of Santa's elves. But a spread of security guards is holding everyone back. You almost want to roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile appearing on your face. 

When it's all over and the police are toting a bruised man in elf ears through the mall, he spots you still standing by the escalator with an amused smirk on your lips.

He hides his grin as he pushes his hair back behind his ear. And then, he's actually walking over to you.

Somehow, you can't help what comes out as he stops in front of you.

"So, what's with you and glass?"

He barks a laugh and it surges right to your heart. 

05. Cranberry Street Apartments, Brooklyn Heights - December 24

The radio crackles on the kitchen counter as you finish another tray of cookies. A classic Christmas station guiding you through the late night as you strive to get that second batch done. The first had been horrifically burned on the bottom and you were ready to prove your baking skills to your family tomorrow. 

Your apartment is well decorated this time. A little here and there over the past year led to even more lights for the windows and a decent sized tree by the computer desk. You'd even managed to buy some fairy lights for above the bed, but they were definitely staying up the full year-round.

As you slide the last few cookies onto the wire rack for cooling, the radio switches over to another song.

"Up on the housetop, reindeer pause / Out jumps good ol' Santa Claus / Down through the chimney with lots of toys / All for the little ones, Christmas joys!"

You hum along, gliding across the kitchen floor. Tapping the carrot noses of your two small ceramic snowmen on the countertop.

And then… a crack of glass.

You freeze as your living room window shatters into a mess of glittering tiny blue shards. Two bodies tumble in, over the top of your couch, crashing into your coffee table and breaking it in half with the combined weight. 

Stumbling backwards into the fridge, you sink down to the floor as punches are thrown. Watching in horror as your apartment is shredded to pieces.

A broken wooden leg from the remnants of your table is used as a weapon for the Winter Soldier against a faceless enemy. It collapses onto your floor as the victor's chest heaves with deep breaths.

And then he turns, face speckled with bright red blood as he finally takes you in.

"Seriously?" you squeak from your small position on the floor.

He stands with a groan. Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. Eyes shining with something sweet and amusing.

Moving from your spot on the kitchen floor, you offer him a fresh-baked cookie. He seems hesitant, considering the unbelievable circumstances of his appearance. But you insist. He perches on your lone barstool as you wait for the authorities to arrive to collect another bad guy.

Warm cookies and laughs shared easily between you. And despite how it happened, it's marked down as one of your best Christmas Eves to date.

+ 01. Cranberry Street Apartments, Brooklyn Heights - December 31

There's a nervous rap of knuckles against your front door. Pulling yourself from the kitchen, you hesitantly open the door - expecting another person from Stark's insurance team to tie up the loose ends of your claim. But instead, you're met with sweet blue eyes and a small smile.

Opening the door all the way, you lean against the frame as Bucky holds out a single white rose.

"Just wanted to say sorry, again," he laments as you take the flower, holding it close to your chest.

You let a laugh slip from your lips, "Like I told you the other night, not your fault. Though I am concerned about your habit of coming in through windows."

He laughs as you raise your brows with a bright gleam.

"To be fair, I did use your door this time."

You give a nod, feeling the flutter of excitement in your belly. "You did. Very commendable. Should make a habit of it."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he rocks back on the balls of his feet. And you become acutely aware that you're still holding this conversation in the open hallway of your apartment building.

"Yeah?" He quips after a moment, "Does that apply to all doors or… or just yours?"

There's a pleasant thrum in your head as your heart sings sweetly in your chest. Holding out a hand, warm fingers tentatively take yours as you bring him inside your apartment. The promise of something new and exhilarating to bring in the new year as he squeezes your hand for the first time.

Permanent Tag List: @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​ | @diinofayce​ | @lambs-to-the-cosmic-slaughter​ | @majesticavenger​ | @s-trawberryv-eins​ | @slowly-drifting-again​ | @weasleyworshipper​ | @ya-lyublu-tebya​

Permanent Bucky Tag List: @livvy-barnes​

Want to be added? Send me an ask ❤

[curious-minx]

Brian Wilson’s Ghost Theater: The Radiant Radish Story

Somewhere hidden on the isle of kokomo the ghostly casper version of beloved musical genius and heart and soul of The Beach Boys Brian Wilson is starring at a bowl of ice cream melting on top of his piano. The flavor, coconut rum sultana, the ghost of Brian Wilson perks up and smiles a little and looks away, he’s a shy spirit. 

Hey dudes you might be wondering why I’m a ghost when I’m not even dead yet? Well that’s the whole point of Brian Wilson’s Ghost Theater. We’re going to get to the bottom of these mysteries. I have been mainly using this digital forum as a way to write cool reviews about cartoons and good vibrations, but then, well you know, The Beach Boys have fallen into worse company than Ol Charlie. Don’t worry just because I’m a ghost doesn’t mean I pal around with Charlie Manson and the rest of the ghoul gang. You’ve got to cut those toxic people out of your lives. Come, let’s go to my garage. It’s easier to tell a story in there. 

The Ghost of Brian Wilson floats away from his piano stool wrapped in kelp. I am trying to get visual proof of the existence of the Ghost of Brian Wilson but my iPhone is sparking. There are rumors on the island that Kate Bush has relocated here and has built her house on an even more precarious cliff. I take one last glance at the splashing glades of dark and foreboding ocean slapping against the cliffside. I wonder how the Ghost of Brian Wilson’s piano stays in such pristine condition despite the wet conditions? 

The path to Brian Wilson’s Ghost’s Garage is covered in thick overgrown vines from papaya trees, I have to always make sure I am looking down or else I could get snapped up by the foliage. A furry hermit crab is ushering into a sandy cove with the air of the conspiratorial. There are two glowing theremins outside of Brian Wilson’s Ghost garage attracting moths larger than a grown adult man’s head flapping against the glow. I walk inside the garage and the door does not slam shut and lock me inside like I had feared but the sun seems stuck in a sunset. Brian Wilson’s Ghost pats upon a plush plum colored loveseat indicating a place for me to sit. There is an ash tray full of wrapped unsmoked purple joints and more ice cream. 

////

This Story Begins In the Summer of 1970

Leading up to the release of our album Surf’s Up, the one album I was taking a back seat on. I had left my physical body for the first time in 69 sometime after I started using coke. Van Dyke Parks and I were messing around in the medicine cabinet and doing the whole, “This isn’t my coke, this is your coke” routine and I felt my heart bum bum bumming at a vicious “Be My Baby”frequency. I needed a boost to keep up with the fruits and vege-tables at Radiant Radish. I was trying to get this specific chime sound right for my cash register, and I really meant my cash register. It was important for the rest of the store’s six cash registers to still sound like cash a regular cash register. 

(At this point in the story Brian Wilson’s Ghost vanishes and reappears with large cylindrical recordings of cash register noises and we listen to them for a few excruciating minutes)

And my cash register would ring this real pretty tone for whenever a real sexy lady bought some beet root powder and unruly arugula. I was imagining “Deidre,” Bruce’s ex-lady’s sister. As soon as the cash register burst open my ghost leapt out of my skin. I really like the actual Brian Wilson, but he never wants me around. He calls me a drag! I tried helping out with Radiant Radish, but I wouldn’t stop tinkering with the cash register. I more or less inhabited his bath robe and mostly hung around. Sometimes I help the real Brian catch a certain chord shape floating by and haunt Murry, my dad. 

////

“So, you’re a coke ghost?” Are the words I eventually gather and casually toss out for Brian Wilson’s Ghost.  I am hoping that somehow this all connects with the present and explain how Mike Love ruined the band. 

“I’m a health food store ghost!”

“Okay, but I’m not going to buy a subscription to this vitamin supplement program!”

“Then why did you bother coming all the way out to Kokomo? I am not supposed to let anybody onto this island! I should have left you drowned!”

“Hey that’s not fair!” I am really hurt right now but I don’t want to lose Brian Wilson’s Ghost so I check my back account, and of course it’s too low, but I sign up for the $15.99 antimicrobial surprise package and Brian Wilson’s Ghost finally stops doing his heart wrenching pout that makes me want to jump out into the ocean.

“Why did you wrench me out my revery..I feel like I was almost really back there. Dang dude.”

“Weren’t 69 and the start of the 70s pretty brutal for you Brian?” I look for that noble sorrow hidden in the depths of the phantom’s eyes and come up empty. He is completely vacant. “Fuck Mike Love!” I take my own self off guard by how passionate I get when I say this. Brian Wilson’s Ghost only responds with a fuzzy frown. “What? Don’t you get agree? You, or at least the real you, called him a piece of shit that stole The Beach Boys name. The reason I came out here was because I want to steal the Beach Boys name back for you.”

“So then it really will be safe to listen to The Beach Boys again, huh?” Brian Wilson’s Ghost continues doing that perpetual tear suspended in the corner of his eye wounded puppy dog eyes and I really wish I could give this ghost a swirly. 

“What? Um, Sure, but I doubt we’d be converting any new fans like Jamie Stewart of Xiu Xiu who took to Twitter to let everyone know that he always hated The Beach Boys.”

“That was our slogan back in 70 and 71, “It’s Safe to Listen to The Beach Boys again.”

“Ugh that’s terrible and this was an attempt to make yourselves seem cool again?”

“Our new manager Jack “The Super hurtful Man” came up with that one. What do you have against Mike Love? He’s not a bad man! Come on kick back and let me put on  “All I Wanna Do” could a true asshole sing a song that nice?”

“Yes!  I mean yes I have heard the song, it practically invented chillwave, and yes an asshole can sing a nice tune every once and awhile.  Don’t think I didn’t notice all of the Wanted Dead or Alive Mike Love posters on Kokomo, even the people of his own island can’t stand him. Brian Wilson you are The Beach Boys! The Beach Boys were about spreading love to everyone and encouraging friendly ecology! “Take A Load Off Your Feet” prevented my foot being amputated from lounger’s foot. We’ve got some before the election! Brian Wilson’s Ghost can make his debut and show the world that The Beach Boys do not support Trump!” I feel like I have gone rabid by the end of this tirade and the fuzzy hermit crab is using his pinchers to snap at my toes to shoo me away. 

Brian Wilson’s Ghost licks his dry mouth and gives me his award winning smile. He vanishes inside of his deuce coup and turns on the engine. He opens the door and once again pats on the seat letting me know that the seat is warm and accepting of my sorry ass. I reach into my breast pocket and wave two cassettes, one of Sunflower and the other of Surf’s Up trying to entice Brian to put them in, but he waves them away. Instead, Brian Wilson’s ghost takes out a red blank disc that is labeled with a Radiant Radish sticker. 

Brian was right, these cash registers really are the best part of the store. 

[miss-pearlescent]

Teenage Romance Angst

There she was again, sitting by herself. She was working on something at the table and Jongin's palms suddenly started sweating. Discreetly, he wiped them on his pants.

He had less than five minutes to talk to her before all her friends swarmed over.

Making a beeline for her table, Jongin nearly body checked a freshman and tripped over a table leg. Good thing she didn't see that.

"Hey," he said breathlessly, slipping into the spot beside her. Her fringe had fallen forward, covering her face and when she swept it back, Jongin got just a little bit more breathless.

She quickly put her work away and said, "Hi, what's up?"

Man, he had something planned but suddenly noticed how good she smelled and realized he'd never sat this close to her before. He inched back before she thought he was a creep. "Have you tried the new pizza from the caf?" Nice, Jongin, nice.

"There's new pizza?"

"Yeah," Jongin fumbled for words. "Apparently, they added some new secret ingredient," he lied straight through his teeth.

"I see..." she narrowed her eyes and her pink, glossy lips curved into a smile. She was catching on. Time to change the subject.

He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. "So how's school?"

"It's...It's good?"

God, you're making this awkward, Kim Jongin. "That's good." He licked his lips. "So—"

Two trays landed on the table, both filled with food. Jongin looked up and saw Luhan, the most popular boy in their grade, taking a seat on Boyoung's other side.

"Hey," she said with a wave. Damn, she was the one initiating the conversation there. And with a familiar hey, no less.

"Hey," Luhan barely glanced at Jongin as he nudged the tray. "I got you the pizza today." Jongin scowled. Damn, when did Luhan start getting lunch for Boyoung?

She gave a bubbly laugh as she stared down at the slice of pizza, which looked like every other slice since the beginning of the year. "Did they change up the pizza?"

"No," Luhan replied with a mouthful of food. "Why would they do that?"

She shrugged and a strand of straight, black hair that was caught on her shoulder slid down her arm. "I just heard from—"

It was time for him to go. Jongin pretended to check his watch. "I think I hear my friends calling." Smooth. "See you guys later." He left the cafeteria.

Once he was back at his locker, he leaned against the cool metal door to calm himself. He would have to ask her to the Winter Solstice Festival another day.

-

"Hey, that's your girl, right?" Jongin felt a sharp nudge at his side as he looked up.

Oh great, not now.

"She's not my girl," he hissed back at Sehun.

The boy put a bunch of stickers in his hand. "Well, give her these stickers and see if she'll become your girl."

He almost stuffed it back at Sehun, but Boyoung was too close and he froze. She had come from the direction of the gym and her cheeks were flushed, her hair tied back into a high ponytail.

She gave him a small smile as she passed.

Jongin didn't know what to say. His mind wasn't working straight so he looked down at her sneakers instead of making a fool of himself. Without thinking, his mouth started moving. "Nice shoes."

He looked back up for her reaction, certain that she would think he was a creep. Her skeptical expression told him he was right. "Thanks," she said and continued walking.

Sehun stopped her and did what Jongin was supposed to do. Give her a flyer and tell her about the animal shelter fundraising campaign they were advertising for.

And he gave her a goddamn sticker.

Sehun's eyes slid over her shoulder to throw Jongin a smug look as he helped put a sticker on her gym uniform. She walked away, waving happily and trying to read her sticker upside-down.

For the rest of the day, Sehun wouldn't stop teasing Jongin about missing the opportunity to pat the sticker onto Boyoung's chest. Jongin nearly punched him out just to shut him up.

Goddamn those stickers.

~3 months later~

"Your father and I worked so hard for you, and you decide to do live your life like this?"

It still hurt because it was true.

Bo pulled her knees up to her chest and swallowed the lump in her throat that wouldn't go down. Really, there was no use in crying over this. It was an old issue and crying wasn't going to help it.

Nothing was, unless she could grow the fuck up like everybody told her to.

But if growing up meant sitting at a desk all day, reading textbooks, and writing papers, then she didn't know if she could do it. At her own desk were a million scattered papers, true, but none of them were for academics. She had venues to call for her grade's graduation dance, she had her friends' essays to edit, and she had a monthly events calendar to write up for the student council.

None of which would help her slipping marks. At this rate, she wasn't going to pass her university entrance exams, let alone get into one of the country's top universities like her parents had expected since she was a toddler.

Her phone buzzed by her feet and the tears almost started pouring out when she saw the name on the screen. NiNi

"That boy is toxic. Ever since you've started dating him, you have been doing worse and worse at school. I've told you a thousand times and I'll tell you again: you need to end this relationship. It's useless."

She picked up the phone. Amazing that her voice didn't crack when she answered.

The reply was a noise between a groan and a whine. "Bo-yah-yah-yah-youngie, please tell me you got B as the answer for question 16. I'm going to die if it's not."

"I don't know," she whispered, too scared to talk any louder than that. Not even Jongin's butchering of her name could lift her mood.

There was silence on the other end and she knew he detected something weird. "Did I just wake you?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"Did something happen?" he asked with caution. He was the only person outside of her family that knew her relationship with her parents, and he knew they didn't like him, too.

She swallowed, hard. "Nothing happened. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Her sentence ended with a crack in her voice.

"Wait." He sounded breathless all of a sudden. "You're at home, right? I'll come over."

Just because he knew her parents didn't like him didn't mean he cared. He tried his best to do everything right, but none of their dislike was his fault anyway. She shook her head. "No, do your homework."

"Boyoung, I'm—"

"Kim Jongin, I don't want to see you." She hung up and slammed her phone face down on the bed.

Burying her face into her knees, she cried until her knees felt the wetness through the thick cotton of her pajama bottoms...which were actually a pair of Jongin's sweat pants. She shook with sobs because she loved him so much, but why was the world so against their relationship?

She was starting to see her mother's reasoning. If she continued down this trail, if she didn't end this relationship with Jongin, was she going to make a fool of herself? She had begun to study more since meeting Jongin's mother, but it didn't raise her dismal grades that had been low from the beginning.

Maybe she was born stupid.

When she lifted her head, she realized she was. Her hand went to the phone again. Jongin had stopped trying to call her for a whole five minutes now, and she was worried he was actually going to drive over. He wouldn't give up, he never did.

She dialed his number.

"Bo—"

"Don't come over."

He sighed. More shuffling. "Fine, I'll stay in my room. But don't hang up on me this time."

"Do your homework," she said, sniffling.

"And bore you with these equations? I don't want to turn into the next Mr. Chang."

Her lips cracked into a small smile because she knew he was trying to cheer her up. "Mr. Chang isn't so bad."

He scoffed. "Not if you like the type that spends the class talking about his son and then sends us home with three hours of work that he didn't cover in class. But wait, let me guess. You've got all the answers already, haven't you?"

"No," she lied. She had done them during lunch today when Jongin was busy with something else. If she hadn't been dating Jongin, she might've hung out with her friends. But his mom wanted to meet her and Bo was determined to give off the right impression...like doing her homework.

Jongin gave an exaggerated sigh. "Ah, well, I guess I'll have to hand my homework in without checking it over with you. By the way, the answer for question 16 is B, right?"

The answer was D, but they both knew she wasn't going to simply give the answer to him. "Jongin."

"Fine, I'll go do my work. But keep me on the line, okay?"

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I want to go to sleep."

"Then lay down." His voice had gone softer, losing its humour, and she put her head down on her pillow. "Your makeup's off? Your retainers on?"

She almost laughed. "Yes, Jongin."

"Good."

She listened to him breathe and every once in a while, he moved around in his room or cleared his throat. She imagined him without his shirt on, padding around barefooted in his untidy room with his mangas lying around everywhere.

"Bo?"

She choked on her tears and began to cough, surprised that she was crying.

They couldn't stop. She cried harder and Jongin continued to whisper her name through the phone, or maybe he was just saying comforting words. Either way, she curled in on herself and held the phone close to her ear, closing her eyes so that the only thing in her head was Jongin's voice.

She didn't think about meeting her parents' expectations. She didn't think about meeting Jongin's parents' expectations. She didn't think about universities or career paths or the next due date on her calendar. She just listened to his voice and her shuddered breaths.

"Jongin..." she whimpered. She didn't know what she wanted to say. I'm not going to get into a good school. I'm a disappointment. Your mom's going to hate me.

"I'm here, Bo," he whispered. "I'll always be here when you need me."

Soon, she fell asleep to his words murmured over and over again.

---

I wrote this back in first or second year uni for nanowrimo, got 20k words in, and then couldn’t do it anymore because there were so many plot holes and I was tired of the story LOL It was supposed to be a Jongin sequel to “Trying to Conceive with Mr Wu Yifan” and it was gonna be titled ~Catching a Flirt Named Kim Jongin~ LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO i thought I was so clever. Anyway, this was just the prologue/flashback portion of the story. I found it while going through my old drafts and decided to put it up cuz I wasn’t gonna do anything else with it LOL hope you guys liked that little drabble! Have a great weekend :) :) :)

[oh-styles]

Okay but what about an au were y/n is the famous one and harry is the one with a traditional job outside of the limelight

*quick side note, i want to write a full one-shot of this, and my plan is to make it a patreon exclusive, so i’ll keep you updated*

Maybe he works as a barista in London, his hair always pulled up in a bun with a plastic splash stick wedged inside, and the first couple of times he spots her, sitting at the corner table sipping on her latte as she skins the pages of some tattered book, he instantly becomes transfixed by the way she always has her head cocked to the side like she’s invested in whatever has her attention, and the way she picks off pieces of her blueberry muffin – she wanted banana nut but they were out – and how she seems to come and go so easily, leaving no trace she was ever there.

It was a Tuesday evening, close to closing time, when Harry spots her talking to a young girl by the same table in the same corner as she sipped her same drink. She’s smiling, and it dawns on him now that she’s always carried the same sullen expression around like it’s her shadow, and the mere sight of an effortless grin seems almost out of character for her.

He fills a cup, twists the lid, and slides the drink across the counter when he glances up to see the girl sidle up beside her, pulling out her phone to hand to someone else – likely her friend – and she quickly snaps a shot of the pair.

Harry watches bewildered at the encounter, but simply shrugs it off and decides they were probably just friends and leaves it at that.

It’s not until a month later when he spots her again, this time in the presence of a heavily-tatted man nearly twice the size of her. She carries a large scarf around her neck, lightly covering up her face which was guarded by a pair of sunglasses and the hood of her jacket.

“Hi,” He starts, peering over to his right as the man stands beside her without saying a word. “How can I help you today?”

She smiles firmly, and fiddles around in her purse. “Hi, uh…Iced Cordusio, please, and…uh…Jack, you want anything?” She glances up at her companion, and leaves him be when he shakes his head. “Okay, that’ll be all.”

“Okay, Iced Cordusio… That’ll be £3.50.”

And just as quickly as she handed over her card and received her drink, the pair were out the door, but not without a few curious heads glancing back their way.

He wouldn’t see her again for another two weeks.

He was just coming in to begin his shift when he sees her out of the corner of his eye, sitting in her usual spot, picking at a banana nut muffin, and fiddling through a notebook with the hood of her jacket pulled up over her head. She has headphones in, and her foot is tapping repeatedly on the floor. She’s alone this time, no intimidating bloke standing around to repute anyone’s advances.

Harry rounds the corner, narrowly missing another worker with a tray of drinks, before he quickly threw on his apron and gave a quick glance of the list of orders ready to be served.

There was one that stood out, and he looked up at her table, the same girl who sat in the same spot and ordered the same drink, and saw nothing but a muffin.

“Table 12—”

“Needs her Iced Cordusio.” A voice announces behind him, and he turns to see her finished drink in hand, the name Naomi written over the front.

There was something but a theme that he had taken notice of, and it was how with every visit, her name changed. One week it would be Elizabeth, the next it would be Jessica, and now this… Naomi. It’s not rare that someone jokingly uses a fake name when ordering a beverage, but she never seemed to be on the other side of the joke.

Harry takes the drink from his coworker’s hand with a shake of his head. “I got this one, man.”

She’s a beautiful girl, he really would be dumb not to notice, but she has always seemed to stay in her own lane when spending her time here. She doesn’t say much to you, and you don’t say much to her, but maybe that’s what intrigued him.

London was loud and full of people on the go, but time always seemed to slow down when she was here, and maybe that’s what sent him stopping at the counter along the way to quickly scribble down his number on a napkin. He doesn’t have much to lose, so why not?

“Iced Cordusio for Naomi?” He says as he nears her table, and her head perks up from her jacket and she smiles.

“That’s me,” she chirps, reaching her hands out for the drink.

Harry makes note of the lack of a ring.

“Enjoy, love.” And with that, and a quick wink, he ventured off back to the bar.

It was a whopping seven minutes later when he made the comment to his coworker that, “I wrote my number on her napkin,” that sent his heart racing for the door.

“Are you bloody mental? Do you know who she is?”

By the look of sheer panic in her eyes, Harry then feared of knowing.

“Do you live under a rock? I wouldn’t think so because your name isn’t Patrick—”

“No, fuck—who is she then?”

It’s with quick Instagram search that her name comes up – definitely not Elizabeth, Jessica or Naomi – and a bright blue verification sticker by it, that he realizes he risked a little more than he expected.

“She’s been filming in London. I had to check for myself because I kept wondering why I saw her in here like everyday.”

“So…she’s big?”

“Fucking huge, are you daft? You don’t get 43 million Instagram followers and not be huge.”

He made a mistake, and a huge one at that. There wasn’t any way he could face her, not now. If she were to decline, he could be the laughing stock of the world. All he has to do is go to social media and talk about how the broke barista gave her his number and actually expected to get a date out of her. Her, out of all people.

All the hope he had flung itself out the door and into oncoming traffic.

He spent the next hour in the back washing dishes until he was sure she had to of left, and with a quick peak into the lobby, she had vanished.

It wasn’t until he was leaving for the night that he noticed a text from an unknown number, and in it it said, “Maybe buy me my coffee next time? x”.

[deadsy-doodle-blog]

PUNK ROCK RUINED MY LIFE

SECTION NINETEEN

       The bell rang for class, Oasis sat looking for Grim. He was usually on time for biology since they shared it and sat next to each other. After about ten minutes Grim ambled in, red eyes and toting a drink and a brown paper bag. He reached into the fast food bag and handed a medium fry to their biology teacher who took it wordlessly and sat it aside at his desk. Grim slumped over to his desk and sat down, shoving the bag and his drink into his backpack. Oasis leaned to him and told him what page number they were on, smelling the reeking skunky stench of marijuana on him. He blinked his eyes hard and stared at her for a moment.

         “...what?” he asked in a long pause. She rolled her eyes at him and dug his textbook out of his backpack for him. She flipped to the page they were on. Grim stifled his laughter as best he could.

         “There is going to be a quiz at the end of class, so I suggest you take ten minutes to study.” The teacher said slowly returning to his desk and starting to eat the fries that Grim had brought him. Oasis returned to her reading, noticing Grim spinning a pen between his fingers, staring into space out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at him.

         “Grim.” She whispered sternly. He looked over at her with the pen rested on his upper lip. It fell when he grinned at her, her face stern and unamused. “If you fail one more class you can’t graduate, numb nuts.” She said in a glare at him as he continued to play with his pen, balancing it on the bridge of his muzzle and attempting to spin it. He let out of huff of air and a laugh. She grabbed the pen from him and broke it in half, Grim smiled, stifling a burst of laughter, shaking his head. He finally turned his eyes to his text book.

         After a few minutes, she noticed him seeming to be intent and dissolved in the reading. She watched his eyebrows scowl down, his eyes moving with the words.

               “Oasis. This book is in English right?” he whispered. She looked up at him in confusion. “I’m so high I can’t read.” He added, looking closer at the sentences, trying to make out what they said. He looked at the pictures in the text book, trying to figure out what he was trying to read about. He blinked his red eyes a few times trying to focus. Their teacher’s voice announced for them to put their textbooks away. “Fuck.” Grim muttered under his breath. He slid his book off the desk into his hand and letting it hit the floor with a loud thud.

               The young mare infront of him passed back a sheet of paper with quiz questions. He looked at Oasis.

               “Can I have a new pen?” he asked. She dug into her bag and gave him a pink pen. He smiled at it then back at her.

               “Grim. Eyes on your page. The quiz starts now. You have twenty minutes.” the teacher’s voice boomed over him. He turned his head back to his own page, staring at the words that kind of fuzzed out of his focus. He could see the word but just couldn’t comprehend what it said. He managed to scrawl his name at the top and the date. He sat for a while staring at the words on the page. Finally able to make out a few of his words and give some kind of answer.

                 After class, the quizzes were passed in. Oasis kept her hand on Grim’s shoulder as they walked out. Guiding him with frustration.

               “How did you do?” she asked in the hall as they headed for the lunch room. He dug into his backpack and pushed the fast food bag to her. He opened his drink and took a chug.

               “Oh shitty, so shitty.” He laughed. “I was finally able to figure out what I was doing around the end, but most of the time I was drawing, and I think one of my answers was ‘sexy cells’.” He said looking at her.

               “You’re going to be in deep shit if you pull that again before class. You were a mess.” She said to him, she dug into the fast food bag and pulled out two burritos, handing him one and leaving their shared fry in the bag for the time being as they walked to the cafeteria.

               “It’s fine. It was one quiz.” He said unwrapping his burrito.

               “They make up 60% of our grade.” Oasis said as he reached into the bag for hot sauce. He ripped the packet open and squirted a little into his mouth.

               “I’m failing math too, so I don’t really know why you’re telling me percentages.” He shrugged.

               “More than half!” she exclaimed as they sat down at the table with her little brother. He waved to his older sister as he was taking sips from his drink.

               “It’s fine.” Grim said rolling his eyes. “how’s it hanging, Shoal?” he asked the palomino. He shrugged his shoulders. “The next time we go out for lunch do you wanna come? So you’re not stuck with this shit?” Grim asked eyeing his tray. The cafeteria lunch was unappealing as usual. Shoal nodded his head.

               “Do we just meet by your car?” he asked Oasis. She nodded her head. “Oh, can I ride home with you today too?” he asked. She looked at Grim for a moment.

               “Me and Grimmy were going to hang out for a little while. He has some band practice after school. You could come with?” she asked. Shoal’s eyes fell for a minute.

               “Come on, you need a life.” Grim said pushing on his skinny shoulders.

               “I guess I can.” He said feeling a little uncomfortable.

               “Awww, baby brother is going to hang out with us!” Oasis smiled at him.

             After school let out Grim and Shoal waited for Oasis by her car. She finally showed up and unlocked the doors to let them in. Shoal sprawled out in the backseat, holding onto Grim’s guitar as the car moved through town. Oasis changed Grim’s music to the radio, playing a mainstream music station. Grim groaned and banged the back of his head into the headrest. He started growling the lyrics over the music, grunting them out gruffly and off pitch.

         “Stop!” Oasis laughed, pushing him in the seat as he mocked her music. “Grim!” she laughed again, turning her music up over him.

        “ Keep spending most our lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise!! ” he screeched, Shoal covered his ears in the back. Grim turned the radio off and laughed at their expressions. “I only know that shitty song because you listen to it.” Grim laughed as Oasis held in her giggles as they drove to the venue the band was going to be practicing at tonight. Grim opened the door of the bug once it was parked and got out, he pushed the seat forward and took his guitar from Shoal before standing aside to let him out of the car. Oasis and her little brother followed Grim into the sticker and poster plastered building. Morty held the door open for them as he was on his way out to bring in more band supplies from his van.

        Grim plugged his guitar into the amp waiting for him on the small stage platform. He started talking into the mic to the soundcheck guy who owned the venue.

       “Copper, how are you?” Grim asked into the mic as he tuned and strummed his guitar a few times. He listened for Copper’s reply, yelled over the sound check. Copper ran up to the stage platform  and shook Grim’s hand.

      “Let’s make sure you guys are good and ready for Saturday night.” He said up to Grim as he placed his guitar back down.  He hopped off the stage.

      “This is my girlfriend and her little brother.” Grim said introducing Copper to Oasis and Shoal.

      “Little brother?” he laughed, seeing how much taller Shoal was than Grim. Oasis laughed, looking up at her brother who stood nearly 6’3” by now. “Is your whole band here yet?” Copper asked.

       “We’re still waiting for Orion.” Grim said looking at the clock on the wall. “he should be off work and on his way.” He said looking to him.

       “He plays a back up guitar, right?” Copper said looking at the stage as Crue tuned her bass. Grim nodded his head. “Lets have you plug in and play a little bit, we can adjust more when Orion gets here with his guitar.” Copper said directing Grim back to the stage. Grim hopped up and grabbed his teal guitar from its stand. He plugged in to the other amp and started to play a little bit, looking to Copper as he headed over to his sound booth. Grim listened to the levels and told Copper where to adjust. Copper sat making notes of his adjustments to help himself be more prepared for the coming weekend show.

       Orion stepped through the door a few minutes later and unplugged Grim from his amp. He shoved the chord into his own guitar and started to play a little.

      “Sorry, I’m a little drunk, needed to bum a ride from my roommate.” He said to Grim as they both listened to the guitar’s sound.

      “It’s fine, don’t be late on Saturday though.” He said taking his guitar back to the front of the stage.   Oasis and Shoal watched the band do a run down of their songs.  Oasis handed Grim a bottle of water as their run down closed up and their soundcheck guy came up to them to give them a few notes on how they sounded. He gulped the water, soothing his rasping voice and then screwing the lid back on. He shoved the notes into his pocket and walked out to the door with Copper, starting to light a cigarette and talking about percentage cuts and rates with him as usual. Oasis followed slowly and SHoal timidly tagged along, feeling uncomfortable.

      When Oasis met Grim outside he distractedly handed his cigarette to her and she puffed on it a little bit. Her little brother’s neck and brows twisted with surprise as she puffed out smoke and handed the cigarette back to Grim. She turned her head to him, she whispered “If you tell mom or dad I will kill you.” quietly.

       As Copper and Grim finished their conversation and cigarettes Orion came out, stumbling a little. He looked at Oasis with a grin. “How are you? Who is this?” he asked looking to her brother.

       “Shoal. He’s a dork.” Oasis giggled, hugging Orion in a friendly embrace. Orion shook Shoal’s hand with a toothy grin. Shoal’s ears pinned to the sides as Crue came out of the venue with a loud band of the door. Grim turned his head to her as she started singing one of their songs.

       After about an hour more of practicing Grim helped the band pack up their equipment. Oasis handed Grim some of the lighter things as he packed them into the van as her little brother toted pieces of the drunk kit.

      “Oh, hey, Shoal…” Grim said as the Palomino turned away to stand off to the side. Grim sat on the floor of the van, looking up to his blue eyes behind his glasses. “I have a job for you.” He said reaching into his pocket and rifling around for a minute. He pulled out lighters, wads of crinkled money and papers. He thumbed through his torn notebook papers, chewing his lip. “Dammit.” He sighed before checking his other pocket.

       “If you flip me off like last time it won’t be as funny because this is taking too long.” Shoal said growing impatient, waiting for what was likely to be a prank and a waste of his time. Grim’s fingers searched the breast pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out a small bag of weed. He tossed it at Shoal and he fumbled to volley it back, wanting nothing to do with it. Grim beamed a jagged smile up at him as he pulled out more papers and a pen. He distractedly grabbed the pen and pulled it apart with his thumb and forefinger in one hand, the top fell off and a tightly rolled joint fell from the inner walls of the pen. He put the joint in his lips and grabbed a lighter as he tossed some folded papers aside, looking for the one he wanted. He took a slow drag, finally picking up a lined sheet of paper that was tattered and burned on one edge.

      “I’m no artist.” He said in a stifled breath as he held the joint in his lip, trying to talk. He unfolded the paper and handed it to Oasis’s little brother. “But, we need a band logo, we want to start making stickers and bullshit like that, maybe making a little dicky album at some point. Those are just kind of some of our ideas.” He watched Shoal’s blue eyes search the drawings.

      “I could rework some of these and see what I can do.” He said softly.

      “I can pay you however.” Grim said pinching the joint in his fingers.  “weed, acid, booze, sex, cash…” Shoal’s eyes drifted up with a scowl, meeting Grim’s smile. “$75?” Grim asked with a wince.

      Shoal bit his lip, looking a little unsure. Oasis looked at Grim, standing behind Shoal, she gestured her thumb up a little.

     “$100, and one of these?” Grim said bouncing his brows, giving Shoal a joint. He passed it back to him, having no interest.

     “$100 is fine.” Shoal said meekly, looking into Grim’s reddening eyes, glossy as he puffed out a little more smoke. Grim nodded his head.

      “Suit yourself.” He said taking his lit joint from his lip and handing it to Shoal. “Hang on to that will ya…” he said with a snicker, getting kicks out of his discomfort. Grim turned to his pile of pocket contents and plucked ten and twenty dollar bills, unfolding and straightening them out. “Orion!” Grim shouted, looking down at his wad of cash. He reached for his joint, plucking it from the minor’s fingers and returning it to his lip as the drunken backup guitarist ambled over, chains and straps clinking together as he stepped closer. “Do you have $30?” he asked taking a drag. He watched as Orion searched his wallet and pockets. He flopped a twenty onto Grim’s pile and some loose change, which scattered into Morty’s van. Grim watched as it rolled to the backseat and the sounds of it clinking against the bars, sounding like a game of pinball. Grim belted out laughter and lumped the money together. “I owe you $10.” He said placing the stack in Shoal’s hands. “Unless you’re sure you don’t want a...” Grim said before making a stroking gesture with a whistle and his brows raised, letting a smile crinkle across his face as Oasis shook her head in a chuckle at her little brother’s reaction.

[pepper---chase]

bathwater - self para.

i watch the bathwater drain, it’s never looked quite the same the weight comes back to my body, and i’m hopeless again.

Pepper stares at the wall of the shower, sunk into the water of the tub. She’s in Jordan’s bathroom, not sure if she can get away with opening up a razor and taking a blade. She settled for two minutes of shocking heat, scalding water and heavy steam, ripping the air out of her lungs. Now, it’s cool, soothing the skin on her back as she leans her head against the tile. She looks around the bathroom as she soaks in the water, contaminated by leftover sex and sweat and guilt and shame and self-loathing. The mirror features a few Victoria’s Secret underwear stickers. They haven’t been there long. Probably purchased since they started fucking. Her retainer case is hot pink with holographic Hello Kitty stickers, much more worn than the hearts on the mirror. There’s a bottle of Summer’s Eve on the counter. Pepper knows that Jordan knows it’s not good for her vaginal health, but even beautiful, shiny people like Jordan worry sometimes, look in the mirror and see a problem or think does my vagina smell good enough for someone to like me? To love me? The toilet is not much different from Pepper’s on the outside. Porcelain, white. But no one kneels in front of it to seek answers, help, perfection, acceptance. No one uses the pink toothbrush in the cup on the counter for anything other than brushing their teeth. And the razor is still a normal razor, used religiously for armpits and legs and a somewhat razor-burned mons pubis, never deconstructed for pain. Pepper wriggles down into the water, submerging her face, and listens to the heaviness of the water, her sins mingled with shampoo and Jordan’s Lush shower gel. She tries to let it strip away the memory of Jordan’s fucks and pleases and the drawn out yeee-eeeee-eee-ssss, the feeling of her heart fluttering, just barely, while Jordan kissed the back of her neck, fingers gently brushing her side, the adoration that constantly radiates from her stupid unconditionally-loving face. She tries to forget all of that, make it not real. Because she has to be loyal to Hanna or because she has to punish herself? She opens the drain and turns the shower back on, rinses the remaining soap and that question. She puts her hair in a wet ponytail, uses the toothbrush as it was intended,-- she can’t bring herself to defile what seems so pure-- puts on a pair of Jordan’s sleep shorts and a sweatshirt, and crawls back into her bed. 

i watch the twists and the turns, distract me from where it hurts it’s like i’m watching my life go past the point of return.

She wonders if her defibrillator has gone off in the past few minutes, sitting in a different tub, pink water and fragrant fizz and glitter surrounding the loosely-bound collection of bones and organs and newly bleached hair. She can’t get comfortable. If she moves to where her scapulae don’t dig into the porcelain, she’s too deep in the water and when things go south, she could slip and start drowning and add a whole new element to something that needs to be quick and nearly painless. She picks the knife up and puts it down about twenty times in the span of just one song. Every time I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise. Her phone speakers are maxed out, turned to the wall in an attempt for amplification. She doesn’t know if she’s going to cry or start freaking out or what, but if there’s any noise other than her femoral artery emptying, she doesn’t want anyone but her and God and maybe Hanna to hear it. She’s done this hundreds of times, just less severe. Shallow, quickly scabbed over, or slightly deeper, tiny white scars to remind her. Why is it so hard to 1) pick up knife 2) find the spot under her hipbone where this stupid thing should be 3) stab hard and deep, fast, get it over with 4) lean back, close eyes 5) die? The plan seemed perfect. She’s come this far. Stole the key card from Jordan, walked right out the back door to the garage, hailed a cab. Bought a bleaching kit, a new nose ring, and a Lush Pink bomb and Creamy Candy bubble bar, a ride to Montauk and a hotel room electronically. Thanks, Apple Pay. She went down to the beach, shivered the whole time, sweater pulled tight around her shoulders, wind breaking off the waves and pushing against her. ( Get out of here. Turn back. ) She went in the old ice cream store, just reopened a month ago during spring break, ordered a scoop of cinnamon toast and a scoop of blueberry muffin in a waffle cone, but it didn’t taste the same as it did when Hanna sat across from her and made fun of the inevitable smear of ice cream on her nose. She went back to the hotel, re-bleached her hair, opened the doors to the balcony and took a nap with the sea breeze blowing in on her. Ordered room service, three Belgian waffles with cream, blueberries, bananas, bacon. Tried to eat it. Enjoy it. The calories won’t matter when you’re dead. Her stomach twisted up. She got through one waffle and the blueberries before screaming curses at the entire fucking plate and her stupid digestive system and her stupid brain and God and whoever else was to blame for everything. Took a deep breath. Started the water, lowered herself in gently, placing the large knife from the room service tray on the side of the tub. Put in the bath bomb, listened to the playlist she’d made in the cab. ( Eyelids. Ride. Young and Beautiful. Together. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Dark Paradise. Teen Idle. Medicine. Lonely Hearts Club. Control. Chandelier. Heavy In Your Arms. A Little Fall of Rain. Over the Love. Twinkle Song. Demon Limbs. I Will Follow You Into the Dark. ) When it repeated, she added more hot water, crumbled the bubble bar. Tried to be ready. She stares at the knife now, still concentrating. Do it. Do it. Fucking do it. What about HeatherAliceGinaJordan what about KarlBrett what about TinkaHeatherGreene what about Tess what about you what about you what about NO. She digs the heels of her hands into her eyes. The soap stings. That’s why her eyes water. That’s why tears start rolling. That must be why. “They’ll be better off without me,” Her voice is weak, barely audible even to her. “They deserve better than me.” whataboutyou “I deserve nothing.” No food, no kindness, no love. She looks up at the ceiling. “Help me!” She’s glad the music is loud. “I know you probably hate me but that should make you want to get rid of me! Help!” She grips the knife handle so hard it hurts her hand. “I want it!” Want what? To die or to live? “I want-- I want--” It won’t come out. “I WANT--!” Silence. “FUCK--!” She lets out a sob, leans over, tips of her hair dipping into the pink. “I have to do it-- I have to.” She repeats the mantra, tries to compose herself as she does ( ihavetoihaveto. ihavetoihaveto. ) She sees two futures in the water. One, stained with blood. Heather splitting open the skin on her knuckles, unable to cry anymore. Alice in the basement with stockpiled alcohol. Gina putting those old walls back up. ( ithinkmymom-- ) Jordan crying for weeks, months, that same horrible noise that came out in her bedroom. The other future is more distant. Heather having lunch with her somewhere, ordering bacon cheese fries even though she knows she’ll stare at them for ten minutes before allowing herself to eat one. Alice smiling, offering hugs and Oreos and cigarettes. She tries not to see the contrast in that and the next scene. Gina is waking up next to her, not in a twin bed. A big one, built for two. Jordan delivers a blueberry muffin to her somewhere, then says she has to go to work, runs off in scrubs and Vans Sk8-His. She blinks herself out of the alternate realities. One is what she could do. The other is what she could have. What she could be. She turns the knife over. Nearly drops it. FOCUS. ( ihavetoihaveto. ) She lifts herself up slightly tries to find the place. Femur to hip. The bones are easy to find-- the 100 on the anatomy test flashes back-- nothing but greatness is expected of you from now on! The blood vessel must be close. DO IT. She tries to aim. ( ithinkmymomkilledherself ) She slips back down, water hitting her in the face. The knife splashes into the pink, right between her legs. Stop--! ...You have to stay. She carefully finds the knife handle, tears blinking out fast, and slams it down on the edge of the tub. Hanna, somewhere above, breathes a sigh of relief. Pepper answers the question. “I-- want to live.” The words are so soft she’s not sure she said them, not sure she thought them. But she’s still sitting there when Jordan busts through the door, looks in and sees her, flings the knife across the room, nearly dives in the bathtub to hold her. She’s still there.

Pepper drops a Cheer Up Buttercup bomb in the tub after yoga. She carefully covers the new tattoos, a band-aid on her stomach underscored by the words i forgive you, and a slice of pizza on her ankle, then stands on the scale. She writes 106 on the mirror with a dry erase marker, adds a smiley face and hearts. She slips into the yellow foam carefully, exhaling. The words from the meditative instructor linger, always in the back of her head, mixing with those of her therapist. Release anything that is no longer serving you. -- Let yourself enjoy things. Give your body whatever it tells you it needs. -- Love yourself enough to decide you deserve more. She runs her hands along her body under the water. Feels a small roundness under her ribs. A tummy, she calls it, not gross, not ugly. Enough flesh to say I’m healthy. There are abs building above it and underneath it. It’s just a slight slope from her ribs to the top of her pants when she’s dressed, looking at it through a mesh top in the mirror. She keeps feeling. Two thighs, muscular now, toned, but they set off an alarm in the back of her mind when she sits down in shorts or leggings. She has to override, shut it off. They are fine. They’re strong, and there’s more than enough room for Gina to get between them when she wants to. You. Are. Doing. Great. You. Are. Good. She finds her breasts, no longer a pair of nipples on a ribcage. Real ones. 36A, but real. Hers. She finds her thighs again, moves up, closes her eyes. A gentle touch from her hand. She doesn’t imagine Hanna now. Doesn’t hate herself  after. Acts of kindness for Pepper by Pepper don’t have to be apologies for the past or encouraging thoughts. Sometimes she just sits in the bathtub and her fingers travel along her body and she takes the time to feel it. She stands up after the water is cold and rinses her hair, her body, dries off, flops down in front of the couch. She waits for Gina. Rests her hands on the small sloping tummy. What she has. What she is.