#anyway my working title is
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dragonspawn9000 · 7 months ago
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I've started using google maps to text my mom in order to write notes for myself. The problem is my ideas are about my bloody/sexy vampire story so I end up sending her notes like this:
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clarionglass · 6 months ago
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
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sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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thereweredragonshere · 2 months ago
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We are NOT brushing over that little reunion scene between Hiccup and his dad in Portrait of Hiccup as a Buff Young man
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LOOK HOW HAPPY HE IS!!! AHHHH
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And the just the whole scene of him flinging him around in the air C’MON WE ALL KNOW HICCUP SECRETLY LOVED IT
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AND THE HANDS AND THE PHYSICAL AFFECTION FOR TOUCH STARVED LITTLE GREMLIN BOY ARAGAHAGAHGRRRRR
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AND THIS. THIS IS MY SECOND FAVOURITE SCREEN GRAB OF ALL TIME. THEY ARE SO ADORABLE.
I HAVE AN ACTUAL ISSUE WITH PARENT CHILD RELATIONSHIPS. IT IS ACTUALLY THE CUTEDT THING EVER. AND STOICK IS FUCKING KNEELING DOWN AND HE’S STILL TALLER THAN HICCUP
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nematode7 · 5 months ago
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I apologize in advance about the person I’ll become when this game comes out
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gertritude-art · 1 year ago
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a nurse and his little sister get swallowed by a god. what happens next is NOT in compliance with standard hospital procedure.
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knifebaby3000 · 3 months ago
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studies / diamond, pearl
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hballegro · 4 months ago
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"It's more than something. It's everything."
s8e11 "Life Time"
painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on
i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol
version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao
"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting
"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting
everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE
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that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes
also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with
photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life
update edit;
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clock back
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basilpaste · 7 months ago
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Chapter III: The Thorn
"This one yearns for connections they feel they don't deserve. Even when shown compassion, they hid themself away. They will make for a cautious heart."
ive been thinking about a slay the princess au. i wanted loop to be the witch. which also meant that loop had to be the thorn. and then i fixated on this so hard i finished it in three hours.
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sysig · 6 months ago
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You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.
Starring Role (Patreon)
#My art#ISaT#ISaT Spoilers#Siffrin#Loop#Technically - you know how it goes#Me when I relate to Siffrin: Oh no haha that's probably not great whoops haha#Me when I relate to Loop: Oh. Oh No.#Lenti has such a deathgrip on my ISaT opinions wtf how is she so powerful I thought my fave was Sif?? But I mean well-#Lol#Does this count as vent idk lol#It was fun to write tho :) Very easy! Done all at once!#As was drawing this! Also done all at once! And black and white is still really fun to work with hehe#I got to use some pretty cool outline/lineart tricks for this one yay :D#The original draft of the fic had a different title but ''Starring Role'' is kinda?? too perfect???#To the point where I looked around and I was like#Kinda shocked that there doesn't Seem? to be another fic with the same title?#Which is.........oddly relevantly thematic to this fic actually hahaha#Not to get too exacting about it but the whole thing of Loop feeling replaceable well#It would imply that other someones could do what they do better than them#What an odd refutation. Huh. Weird#Anyway - behind the scenes fun fact!#I actually really love the song Starring Role but I didn't think of it until after writing this#And now that I sing it to myself it's actually kinda perfect what the heck#So that's something to think about as well#Anyway if you're going to listen to it pls listen to the Axiom remix it is The version in my heart <3#The glitches and stutters are perfect.....#And the clock ticking?? Why is this song so ISaT I'm gonna think about this for a while now heck#Animatic in my head shower thought -core lol
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cirr0stratus · 1 month ago
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I hope my absence haunts you
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macksartblock · 2 years ago
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ei8ht.
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xxplastic-cubexx · 7 days ago
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If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?
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uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!
#xmen#xmen comics#magneto#erik lehnsherr#max eisenhardt#erik magnus lensherr#like ig fc erik there too but only if you squint Generally Speaking this aint about him#snap sketches#i thought this was gonna be a quick thing but then As I Do i sat and thought about it for too long#and for what. my end result isn't that different from the beginning !! tragic .#out of these i think. it MAY be obvious i like the far right one#once i remembered I Do In Fact love megaman i locked in cause everytime i draw Classic Magneto all i think of is megaman#cant even make a magnetman joke that mfer already exists and he from my FAVORITE classic megaman title tyvm#anyway. should i explain my reasoning now. man i guess i can try#i couldnt tho is the thing- at least for the first set i really was just ickin around and seeing what i Might like#evidently it was nothing LMAO i told yall i cant improve perfection ... so i just. Smash Bros'd his classic look#With some tearing on the cape cause i said so ............#at most- with the furthermost right bit- i just wanted to emphasize a feeling of 'power' hence the chunkier boots + gloves#with the first look i tried that angle with showing some arm skin buuuuttt i dont like it ...#i think the sleeveless look really only works if the outfit's black idk i cant explain it#overall the first design i tried just feels too sleek for my liking if i wanted to go for a 'power' approach#i like the 'M' i did with the legs at least. i really wanted to incorporate an M in case it wasnt clear but alas ...#tbh i might steal the boots/gloves/underwear design from myself when i draw classic magneto regularly. SHRUG we'll see#as for now i am very sleepy and i have class in the morning and i want to do some work Before Class#very cool but very sad i dont have my third class today :( its my fave class :( at least i get more time to work#and the more work i get done the more time i get to draw the sillies !!! epic ...#anyways. good night everyone !!!!!!! talk to yall tomorrow ..... probably ... or later ig technically... i should sleep earlier <- wont
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jadecantcreate · 24 days ago
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Kremy Lecroux and Gideon Coal had forgotten they were a simple flinch, a passing breeze, a slippery hand, or a drop of rain, away from ruin, and that ignorance was the beginning of their downfall. Hubris and rage, greed and wrath…no matter its origin, sin leads to sin, and sinners attract other sinners. Whether due to chance or fate, two paths cross and intertwine, never to split again.
my take on how gideon and kremy first met & what led up to it! beta read by my beloved mutual @szaryherbatnik
its 6.2k words so a pretty short (but hopefully enjoyable) read, id really appreciate it if you checked it out! <3
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cigar-aficionado · 29 days ago
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clean me off, i'm so dirty babe ch. 1
oz cobb x reader / 1837 words / sfw (for now)
summary: you work at a dry cleaner that oz frequents. he's one of your favorite regulars.
tags: gn reader though oz does call them 'doll,' soooo fluffy -- next chapter will be a lil more nasty tho ;)
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You’ve been working in the combination dry cleaner and laundromat in the Diamond District long enough to be able to suss out when someone’s a regular businessman and when someone’s…well, not. 
The regular who identified himself as Oz Cobb was, decidedly not. However, you could tell that he wasn’t like the others. 
The first and most obvious sign that threw you initially was that he handled this business himself. Other people whose money came from underground had lackeys, or more typically, lackeys of lackeys to drop off and pick up their clothes. You couldn’t count the amount of times a twenty-something in thrifted boots came in with a stack of $4000 suits. It wasn’t subtle. 
Oz was different, though. His suits were expensive, but it was usually the same set of four or five paired with maybe seven or eight shirts – occasionally there would be a new suit in there, though no more often than a regular-person banker or lawyer or, you supposed, club owner.
He was kind. That was something else that set him apart from most of the other businessmen who came through. Probably most importantly, Oz always tipped you and often it was very well. But his kindness extended beyond that – he smiled when he came in, chatted when you were matching his order slip (which he always remembered to bring) to his clothes, and never rushed you through the scanning and checkout process. 
When he dropped off his clothes, he always pointed out stains he needed work on, apologizing for them (and you, of course, pretended not to know that the stains on his crisp white shirts were definitely blood. You also pointedly ignored how often he came in with shirts splattered with something that was definitely blood.) 
And, unlike a lot of these messy not-businesspeople, his pockets were always empty. You had a habit of running into things that you shouldn’t have tucked in those blazer or trouser pockets, be it cash in hundreds, pills, or occasionally a bullet, which you always put in a small plastic bag to be discreetly tucked into the blazer pocket later. Usually when you saw that same suit again, it came with a massive tip. 
Oz wasn’t messy like that though, he was clearly meticulous with his clothing and his belongings – not like someone who could afford to be careless. 
You grew to look forward to seeing Oz, he and the unmistakable car he always pulled up in were like a breath of fresh air. 
One day, a completely dead afternoon, he came in at around his usual time for pickup. You didn’t need to look at his slip to know where his things were, “Hey Oz,” you said as he walked in, the bell on the door ringing behind him, “how’s your Tuesday?” 
“It’d be a lot better without this heat, I gotta tell’ya. How’re you?” 
You came out with his suits, hanging them on the rack by the counter and catching that he wasn’t wearing one of his usual blazer. You’re not sure you’ve ever really seen his body before this and were you not on the clock you’d probably be blushing, but you maintain professional stoicism, clearing your throat, “I’m alright, it’s been very slow today. Pros and cons, you know.” 
He nods and you take the first suit to scan it in when something catches your eye, “Shit – ah, pardon my language,” you say, hurriedly flipping through the short stack of suits in front of you.
“Everything alright?”
“Ugh, my boss let the new guy do these while I was out and he didn’t crease any of your pants. I’m so sorry, Sir, I can have them done in about twenty minutes if you don’t mind waiting, but I can give you a discount on them if you need to head out. I’m so sorry again.” 
“‘S alright, Doll. Shit happens, ain’t the end of the world.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at it before looking at you with those big brown eyes, “To be honest with’ya? I really don’t feel like going back out there. It’s nice and cool in here, and I got a little time anyway. If you have time to take care of them now, I’ve got time to wait.” 
“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your uh – “ not being a total asshole about this “ – flexibility.” 
“All good. And you don’t have to call me ‘Sir,’ Oz is fine.” 
“Okay, Oz,” you smile, “I just put on some coffee, would you like some?” 
“Honestly, that sounds wonderful. Thank you.” 
You give him another smile, “You can come get it, it's just to the left here,” you say, pointing to the machine and mini fridge just past the space to get behind the counter. 
He looks at it and laughs a little as he makes his way over, “VIP treatment, unless you’re this nice to all your customers?” 
You chuckle, shaking your head and going to the creaser with his suits, hanging them up on the rack next to it, “You might be the first. But you’re in here like clockwork and you always remember your slip, so you get the privilege of the secret menu.” 
“Well, color me flattered,” You get to work, as does he, and it’s silent until he opens the fridge. “This caramel macchiato creamer thing any good?” 
“Oh yeah, that’s mine, it’s my favorite,” you say, carefully setting the first pair of his pants in the machine. “It’s a little sweet, they do a good job with the caramel, though.” 
“Hm.” You continue to work, practically on autopilot, and you hear him hum happily, “This is excellent, I’ll have to get some for my place.” 
“Good! I’m glad you like it.” He walks back to the waiting area in front of the counter. You work some more before calling out to him, “Any plans this weekend?” 
“Eh, the club’s been real busy lately. Which is great, I’m thrilled about it but you know – doesn't leave a lot of time for rest. Barely been sleepin’. Anyway, I’ll probably be there, keepin’ an eye on things. Gave myself tomorrow off, maybe I’ll try to rest then.” 
“I hope you catch up on your sleep, it’s so important,” you say. “That and self-care, do you get massages?” 
“Not really my thing.”
“Probably no facials either?” 
He laughs, a full yet bright sound, “No facials either.” 
“They’re nice! Especially if you work hard, which I know you must.” 
“Maybe I oughta listen to you, you know coffee. My clothes always look good when I get them back, too.” 
You beam, “I’m so glad to hear that.” 
You work on the rest of his pants, chatting with Oz as you do. It’s easy conversation between the two of you, swapping restaurant recommendations and making other small talk. You’re about to start the last pair and think about asking him out, innocently enough, but then his phone rings and he takes the call. 
He’s speaking Spanish and while you’re not fluent, you were good at it through school so you can understand the gist. Someone close to Oz, especially if his face was any indication, had been found down the street. There’s a brief argument about her medications, about long-term care for her. Oz hangs up with a deep sigh. “Sorry, Doll, that was my shift lead at the club. Needs me in for a really important meeting, completely forgot about it. You know how it is. Would I be able to come in a little later and pick these up?” 
You suspect this isn’t the first time that Oz has lied to you, but it’s the first time you’re able to see it. You turn around and give him a smile, “Absolutely, no trouble at all.” 
“I’ll be back before you close. Thanks for understandin’.” 
True to his word, he does come back in the evening. You weren’t sure if he would; you imagine he has other things on his mind. He looks much calmer than when he left earlier, his smile contagious. “Welcome back,” you say, moving to get his suits. 
“Glad to be back,” he laughs, coming to the counter. You hang his suits on the rack and he breaks the silence, placing a sequined dress on the counter between you. “I’ve got a question for ya, do you do repairs?” 
“What do you need?” You ask, looking at the dress. 
“Well, it needs to be cleaned first, it’s – it’s my sister’s, she asked me to take care of it but I’m not sure something like this can even go in a washing machine. Anyway, there’re some missing sequins – where’d they go…” he murmurs softly as he turns over the fabric until he reaches a small but obvious section of missing sequins toward the bottom, running his fingers over it. “Right here, would you be able to fill in the gap here?” 
You take the dress, looking over the spot and nodding, “Absolutely, that’s no problem. It’ll take a little longer because I think I’ll have to order these sequins and I’ll have to do it by hand – you can with the sewing machine, but I don’t think it looks as nice.” 
“You’re a lifesaver. She was real upset about it, I told her though, I said ‘I know where I can take this and they’ll make it good as new.’” 
You chuckle, “I admire your faith in me. When does she need it back by?” 
“Oh, whenever. I don’t think she’s got anything coming up for it.” 
“Awesome. I can call you with a price estimate once I look at the new sequins.” 
“Sounds good.” 
Oz paid his bill for the rest of his suits, thanking you again. “Today was kinda – didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. But this made it better, thank you.” 
He turns to leave and head for the door but you stop him, calling his name. Maybe it was the way he thanked you, maybe it was his confidence in your skill, maybe it was that he liked the coffee but before you can stop yourself, you’re writing down your number on the back of a dry clean ticket, stepping out from behind the counter. You’ve never really looked at him this closely before, your gaze flickering to the tufts of hair peeking out from the undone button on his shirt. He’s looking at you curiously and you will yourself to speak. 
“Um – “ you clear your throat, handing over the paper “ – that’s my personal cell. In case she needs her dress back early or…in case you want to get dinner sometime?” 
Oz smiles but it’s not one of his customer service interaction smiles – it’s something real, like when he was sipping your coffee earlier. “Well look’it that, you just keep making my night better and better. I’ll text you about plans later tonight, this week’s a little busy but I’m sure I can make some time.” 
You smile brightly, “Perfect. I’ll be around.”
“Have a good night, Doll.” 
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kveom · 11 months ago
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booseoksoon in 2023
thank you for saving my kpop booseoksoon <;3 i'd been drifting away from kpop for a bit but then booseoksoon happened and look at me now. changed my whole year literally don't know who i'd be if it wasn't for booseoksoon comeback. thank you for providing amazing music, even better performances and just entertainment all around. kings of fun, kings of energy, kings of adlibs, kings of performance please come back next year 😫 cr: x
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gracebethartacc · 3 months ago
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more sombwa :3
also
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