#because i’m so fucking scared that i’m not enough right now especially after advertising myself as who i used to be

[0rionz-belt]

sometimes i’ll be like “i wish i could go to a doctor and they do a scan of my brain and find that i have brain damage from how stressed i’ve been the past 3 years” and then i remember that this burnout was probably actually already physically changing my brain by the time i properly noticed the symptoms over half a year after the catalyst

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest - Thorns

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: After dating the notable mobster Steve Rogers for a couple months you think you’ve got him figured out. An altercation in an alley leaves you questioning whether or not that’s true. 

W/C: 1995

Warnings: Violence, angst, fluff, swearing

A/N: Holy smokes! I am completely overwhelmed by the love that the first part to this story has received. Obviously, I couldn’t help myself so I wrote a part 2 also as an entry for @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s 5k soft dark challenge! Using the Mob!Au and the dialogue prompt “Oh, Honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”.

If you want you can check out part one here and my other mob fic here! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

______________________________ 6pm was fast approaching as you began to close up shop for the day. Steve was here to pick you up for dinner and much to your embarrassment walked in on you having a very difficult conversation argument with a very difficult customer over pricing and promotion. Having run your small business on your own for years you knew how to hold your own but you completely froze when you saw Steve enter the shop out of the corner of your eye. 

“I- listen Mr. Andersen, I appreciate all the business that your venues have given me but I can’t afford a raise in advertising prices right now. I’ve been reliable and trustworthy and I’ve always treated your venues with respect. I’ve never been an issue for you, please don’t raise the rate. Wedding season is coming up and I need the exposure.” 

You tried to bargain with him quietly, hoping the music overhead would prevent Steve from hearing but it was a low volume and a small shop. You’ve only been dating for a couple months. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him, especially not at work. 

Mr. Andersen exhaled sharply. You could tell he was annoyed at you for the pushback. “Look, I’m sorry but we can’t be making exceptions every time a business owner comes groveling.” 

Tears stung your eyes, you really did generate a lot of business through Andersen’s venues. They listed you as one of their recommended vendors to their clients, it’s been huge for you. Knowing that Steve was there made this even worse. “If I’d have known you were going to cry like this I would’ve just done it over email I mean really-”

“That’s enough.” Steve cut him off before he could humiliate you any further. He sent a quick text and shoved his phone back in his pocket before pulling himself to his gull height and squaring his shoulders. “You’ve done enough, now get out.”

A scoff from Andersen and a harsh glare directed towards you and he was on his way out of the building. Steve’s phone vibrated but he didn’t check it. Instead he walked over to you and extended his arm to rub your back. 

“Are you okay? That guy was a total fucking prick to you, you don’t deserve that.” Steve consoled you. He seemed calmer than you expected for having just witnessed something like that. You’ve seen him agitated but never upset. Maybe he was restraining himself for you but it didn’t matter, you appreciate him being there for you. 

“I’m fine, I just need to finish closing up shop and we can get to dinner. Just give me a minute” you said as you began to sweep up. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m double parked so I’m gonna go to the car and try to find a space.” You nodded as hummed along to the music. 

____________________________

As Steve left the shop he pulled his phone out and checked his text from Thor ‘we got him’. When Steve heard that man talk to you like that he knew you didn’t want him to threaten Andersen and make the situation worse. You were already on the verge of tears so he decided to ask one of his men to hold Andersen out back where he could have a few words with him. 

Stepping around the corner into the alley behind your shop he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He needed to be quick so you wouldn’t find out. He didn’t want to upset you further, he just wanted this guy to know that you can’t treat his girl like that. And maybe he could be talked into giving her the advertising for free.

“So you think you can talk to my girl like that huh?” He questioned. Andersen looked like Thor had already punched him once in the process of restraining him. Thor’s hold on Andersen’s arms tightened. 

Andersen was scared, but not scared enough to Steve’s liking. Before Andersen had the opportunity to answer Steve cocked his fist back and launched it directly to Andersen’s jaw. “Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We’re expanding and we need the money so I have to raise-”

Before the excuse could be finished Steve hit him again. “Stop! Please!” Andersen begged.

Steve chuckled. “No I don’t think I will. I can’t just let people go every time they grovel to me. They’d never learn.” Another punch landed. 

“You’re not gonna raise your prices for her. In fact, you’re gonna call her up in a couple days and apologize by offering her advertising free of charge for all of your venues. Do you understand?” Steve asked coolly. 

Andersen coughed up some blood. “I- I can offer her half price but I can’t just waive the cost like that!”

“Not good enough.” Steve punched him even harder, Andersen was nearly knocked out. Steve thought about the tears that slipped from his girl’s eye and couldn’t stop himself. He struck Andersen one more time with a growl and his head hung limp between his shoulders. Just then he heard the sound of shattering glass behind him and froze, hand still in a fist. 

_____________________________________

Finally done with most of your tasks all you had to do was take out the garbage and empty the vase of leftover stems from bouquets into the dumpster. You opened the back door just in time to see Steve land a brutal punch to Mr. Andersen’s cheekbone. Mr. Andersen’s head fell and it was clear he had been knocked out cold. 

You hadn’t even realized you’d dropped the vase until you felt the shards fall around your feet. You couldn’t look away when Steve looked up at you with wild eyes, you’d never seen him so angry. You felt the way you did the day you met him. Nervous and frozen in place.

His face instantly fell and through his heavy breathing said “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” He was trying to relax his features as he approached you but you could only take steps back and into the shop like a scared animal being cornered. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest and you couldn’t tell if you were more angry or scared. You held your hands out in front of you and stammered “I’d better.. I need to lock up shop I’ll um, I’ll go”. “Sweetheart wait!” Too late. You shut the back door and locked it behind you. 

You went to your back office and sat down, not even sure where to go from here with this. You two had talked about his work a bit, it wasn’t like it could be avoided forever, you just didn’t think he’d bring it into yours. You weren’t scared of Steve doing something like that to you, you were scared of that look in his eyes. His capability of doing something like that with little thought.

Oh, God, what does this mean for the shop? Mr. Andersen will have you blacklisted. He’ll tell every wedding planner in Brooklyn. Now your heart was hammering for a whole other set of reasons. Too busy spiraling as you thought about it all you didn’t hear the bell of the front door ring. 

A knock on your open office door pulled you out of it and you looked up to find Steve. He wore what looked like a truly regretful expression on his face. You fought the urge to yell at him. You’re an adult, you’re going to talk about this like adults. Let him say his piece. 

He had straightened up, his hands were clean and his jacket was back on. He gave a heavy sigh. “Sweetheart, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry you had to see that side of me, but I want you to know I would never ever do anything like that to you or anyone close to you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s punching one of my main sources of income?” You snapped. You appreciated the apology but you were getting too worked up in anger thinking about the future of the shop.

He was a little miffed at the outburst and became defensive. “That man disrespected you, disrespected your work. No one talks like that to my girl. That’s how we settle things in my world!” 

“Well you’re not in your mob world right now you’re in mine! And things don’t get handled like that! Do you have any idea the toll that could take on my business? He’s gonna have me blacklisted by the end of the day if he wakes up.” The last words came out a bit broken as you felt more tears build. You were more worried about the business than anything. 

Steve walked around the desk to console you just like he had not twenty minutes ago. He gently put a hand on your forearm. “You’re right. It’s not my world, it wasn’t my call to make and I had no right to react like that. I didn’t even think about that. The way he was talking to you, I just.. I got so mad. You work so hard and you don’t deserve that. Sometimes I forget there’s more than one way to handle things.”

Okay, that went better than expected. This is what made Steve so interesting to you. Steve was funny and sweet and charming as hell, but beyond all that there was this tender heart. He was dangerous but he was also fiercely loyal. He was more than a mobster and he was better than the brute force he used. It’s why you were able to accept that part of him, because it wasn’t his entire life, it didn’t consume him.

“Thank you for saying that,” You said quietly. You looked up to him and could tell that he really did feel bad. “I accept your apology and I appreciate it. But you have to make things right with Mr. Andersen. I’ll pay the new rate but you have to apologize before it’s too late.”

_________________________

Steve was beginning to harbor resentment towards himself for fucking this up for you. Andersen just made him see red, he has such a hard time shutting that part of himself down. You work so hard and care so much there’s just no way he could let that stand. He just hoped to work through it and move on. He really didn’t wanna screw it up.

Steve was much more at ease knowing you accepted his apology. “I won’t like it but I can do that. It’s only fair. Can I make it up to you over dinner? We’ll make a quick stop to the hospital to set things straight with Andersen.” When you shut the door in his face in the alley he had Thor take him to the hospital. He’d call another town car to get home. 

He’ll apologize to Andersen and pay the hospital bill, but you’re not paying the increased rate. No way. Steve will pay him off enough that he won’t be telling anyone about the altercation, either. Win-win in his eyes.

You leaned your head against his shoulder in slight exhaustion and nodded. “Can we forget the reservation? I really want breakfast food right now.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Of course sweetheart, you wanna get takeout and go back to mine?” He felt you nod. “Yes, please”. 

“Let me just order a car and we’ll be on our way. I’m sorry again, sweetheart, I promise I’m gonna make it right even if that guy’s a douche.” You laughed a little bit and wiped the few tears that stayed in your eyes.

“So.... your girl, huh? Is that like some mob slang term I don’t know about? Are we official?”

A smile graced his lips. “I’d like to be, if you would.” 

You smiled back at him. “I might be persuaded with waffles.” 

[lachimolala0713]

Unforeseen || Chapter I

Summary | I have always loved my boyfriend Jimin. He is the light and love of my life. We are happy and in love for 9 years. Until one day his best friend, Taehyung, confessed his affection to me and it struck the unforeseen circumstances in our lives.

Type / Genre  |  Angst, Drama, Fluff, and a little bit of smut

Characters | Jimin x reader | Taehyung x reader (ft. BTS)

Author’s Note | I want to thank my co-ARMY and great friend Pied Piper for encouraging me to write my first story. To the future readers of this story, I hope you’ll enjoy this one. Thank you!

I dreamt of seeing a couple. They were walking together happily while holding hands, smiling at each other. As I took a closer look at them, the woman was me and I expected the man to be the love of my life, Jimin, but as I got to see the man’s face it’s not him and I woke up.

“That was weird?” I said to myself.  My heart was beating so fast I can hear and feel it in my head.

As I continue to breathe slowly I felt someone’s arm wrapped around my waist and I looked to my side and it was Jimin. He’s sleeping so peacefully that I envy him in my situation right now. I checked my phone on the bedside table and it’s 3:00 o’clock in the morning. “Shit!” I cursed to myself. I heard Jimin groan beside me, I must’ve woke him up. “Hey.” he said in his raspy voice, “Hey.” I said calmly, “Why are up so early? Did you had a bad dream?” he asked while his eyes are squinting and I can’t help but to give him an endearing smile because of his cuteness. “Yeah, I had.” I said, “Don’t worry, I’m here. Try to get back to sleep now.” he said sweetly. I fixed the blanket and snuggled myself into his hold. “I’ll hold you tight until you wake up in the morning.” he said.

He kissed the top of my head and held me tight until I my eyes are getting me back to my slumber.

A warm smile welcomed me in the morning as I opened my eyes. “Good morning, love!” he said happily. His warm smile relaxes me and always gives me an assurance and security. “Good morning.” I said and giving him a warm smile as well. Jimin got closer to me and planted sweet kisses all over my face and I burst into giggles. Before I knew it, his hands are tickling my sides, he hold my wrists and now he’s on top of me, pinning me down. We just stared at each other’s eyes, I can feel his heartbeat pounding so fast, “I always love hearing your laugh and those soft giggles of yours.” he said, and I felt my heart flutter and my cheeks went hot. He leaned closer to my ear, “It’s music to my ears, princess.” he whispered. I can’t help but feel the heat running through my body whenever he calls me that, he knows my weakness and I can’t blame him. We’ve been together for 9 years and he knows my body very well. I bit my lip, “You know I hate it when you do that.” he said and he suddenly attacked me with his undeniably strong, seductive and wet kiss. “You know it drives me crazy.” he whispered through his kisses, he leaned on to my ear and let out his tongue to my earlobe, making me giggle even more. It’s an intoxicating feeling. He let go my wrists and I wrapped my hands on the back of his neck, his hands travelled on my sides, his wet kisses are travel from my jawline and to my neck as I tilted my head giving him access, “Fuck! I love you princess.” he whispered, “I love you more.” I breathed. He suddenly grabbed my breasts, holding and kneading them really hard, making me moan, “Fuck!” I hissed. “Fuck, I want to get inside you right now.” he said. He quickly removed my shorts and underwear without any hesitation, I quickly got up and removed his boxer brief and his thick cock is so hard wet with his pre-cum, he removed his shirt and he suddenly pushed me onto the mattress and I can feel he’s anxious to get inside me. He pressed himself on top of me and now we’re chest to chest, and while he’s holding his length he slowly went in. Both our moans were synchronized like poetry. “Shit Y/N, you’re so fucking tight.” and he slowly keeping up his pace and I can’t help but close my eyes with the wave of electricity he’s giving me, “You were made for me, Y/N.” he breathed. “Oh fuck, Jimin!” I moaned as he increased his pace, he held my wrists tightly above my head, he smoothly glide his tongue from my nipples, up to my chest and to my neck, he stayed there, sucking my skin, leaving hickeys. He moved his index finger to my clit, making hard circular motion and it increased my libido even more. I moaned, crying for his name like holding onto it for my dear life. “Jimin...” I moaned, “Say my name.” he commanded, “Jimin...fuck!” he continued his pace, fucking me just how he wanted and the sensation is driving me crazy like I’m holding for my dear life, “I’m close...ah!” I screamed, “Don’t come yet.” he grunted and fuck it feels so good, he feels so good, the way he’s pounding me like there’s no tomorrow is such a pleasurable sensation. “Please, Jimin! It’s too much!” I cried, "Not yet!" he grunted, he increased his speed, going in and out inside me, he quickly looked at me and he bit my lip, "Ah!" I yelped, "Please Jimin, I want to come please!" I begged, he moaned as he continue his pace, “Come for me, Y/N!” he commanded, and I screamed as my orgasm sends me a sensational feeling. “I’m coming, Y/N!” Jimin grunted, he suddenly kissed me and moaned inside my mouth as I felt his warm juices filled inside me, I squirmed because of the pleasurable feeling. It’s tingling yet it feels so fucking good. 

He looked me in the eye and planted a soft kiss on my lips and it still feels like our first kiss. His soft and pillowy lips gives me butterflies whenever it connects to mine. “Let’s take a shower and get ready for work.” he said, “No second round, okay?” I asked, because I can’t be late for work. “How about I make you come again with just a finger?” he teased, “No!” I laughed, I get out of the bed and went to the shower room while Jimin is behind me, “You know your best friend hates tardy people. Even I’m a supervisor, I still have to go to work early.” I said, “Yeah but Taehyung knows me.” he pouted, and his lips looked so scrumptious and succulent that I want to bite it but I can’t. I have to go to work. “Not an excuse and even you as a CEO, you can’t be late either.” I said, and he just continued pouting and sending puppy eyes at me.

I parked my car and went inside the building. As I go towards the elevator, my phone keeps vibrating in my bag and I checked it and received tons of text messages from Jimin.

[Mochii ♡]: Text me when you arrived at the office, jagiya. I want to know you’re safe.

[Mochii ♡]: I LOVE UUUUUUUUUU!

[Mochii ♡]: Your baby mochi misses you!

[Mochii ♡]: Meetings are so boring, jagiya. 

Since the elevator is still on the 40th floor, I have enough time to send him back a message.

[Y/N]: Aw, poor you. I just arrived at the building, waiting for the elevator.

[Y/N]: I LOVE YOU MOST! 

Someone stand close behind me and I flinched when I heard a deep baritone voice, “Hey there, Y/N. Good morning.” I turned around to look at the guy and it’s Taehyung. “Good morning, Taehyung!” I said brightly. 

Taehyung is Jimin’s best friend. They were together from kindergarten to college, until they went to their separate ways to start their career but they were still connected. Jimin followed his passion in arts and media and is now a CEO of Persona & Beyond Agency, an advertising company that handles high end brands in the country and some across the globe. While Taehyung chose business as he took his father’s footsteps, setting aside his passion for photography and using it as a hobby instead. 

I met Taehyung when Jimin introduced me to him as his girlfriend a year after they graduated from college and we became close to each other. After I graduated with a degree of Business Administration I applied several jobs and I landed to Kim Enterprise and I didn't know Taehyung will be my boss. It was unexpected. Jimin was okay with it as we both agreed that if we worked together in the same company it might affect our work.

Taehyung's smile was diminished when his eyes looked at my neck and it made me conscious, "Please cover that hickey. It's inappropriate especially you're in the office building and right in front of your boss." he said, and I gasped and covered it with my hand, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I said nervously. The ding sound of the elevator came in and Taehyung just walked past me to get inside the elevator and I followed since we're going on the same floor. When the elevator door was closed I quickly checked my bag and luckily there's a scarf I can use to wrap around my neck. Good thing it matched my outfit today. Damn it, I'm going to kill Jimin for this.

We arrived at the 40th floor, the interior of this building is very luxurious and premium. White painted walls with huge glass windows to see the skyline, floors that are made from porcelain tiles and even the chairs in the lobby of this floor is beautiful and spacious. I stepped out of the elevator and walked to my office then Taehyung walked past behind me, "Y/N in my office. Now." he said sternly. "Yes." I said, I throw my things on the couch inside my office and quickly followed Taehyung. I suddenly got scared because he was never that bossy around me before. Yes, we're close but when it comes to work he sets that aside and I understand that. Even I'm a supervisor I'm still under his command.

I'm in front of office and his secretary gesture me to go inside. I knocked on his door, "Come in." he said, and I pushed one door of his two doorway and every time I'm here in his office I became conscious because it's so spacious that I felt like I'm the center of attraction. He's in his chair and holding a cup of coffee while reading his paperworks. "Good morning, Taehyung. May I know why you called me?" I said calmly. He placed the paperworks he's reading on his desk and looked at me while drinking his coffee, I'm really nervous now. What does he want? After taking a sip of his coffee he put it down, "How are the employees under your supervision?" he asked with his eyes just staring at me, "Um..." I stuttered, I took a quick breath, "They're great actually. They managed to follow the instruction and tasks given to them." I said, "Mmm." he reacted, "I want you to take them overtime -" "but why?" I interrupted, "- and you also." he continued. "What?" I asked, "The team I'm handling are doing great, why double their shift?", I debated, "So you're questioning my order?" he asked, and his tone is different, I'm hearing Big Boss Taehyung and it's irritating me. God, why is this guy is Jimin's best friend? "Okay." I said plainly, I gave up. "Is there anything else you need from me?" I asked professionally. I don't want to show him that I'm really pissed. He just stared at me for 10 seconds, he moved his index finger to his lips, "None. You can go." he said, finally! I left his office and went to mine. I sat down on my chair and looked at the view. It relaxed me a little bit, it's a good thing I have this end to end glass window in my office. I opened my laptop and sent an email to notify my team that they need to do double shift today and I sent Jimin a text message, he might be waiting for me to come home early at home.

[Y/N]: Hi love. I'll be home late tonight. I have to do double shift with my team. Don't wait for me. Go home and get some rest okay?

Living in with Jimin made me feel safe. He's always looking after me like we're married. When he finally bought a 2 storey and huge house he didn't hesitated to ask me to come and live with him. He almost cried asking me that question that it brought me to tears of happiness because I love him very much. I trust him with my whole life ever since. My phone vibrated and I saw Jimin's pet name.

[Mochii ♡]: Jagiya, you're working too hard again. I can stay at the office and wait until you finish your shift. I'll pick you up later. I'll have Mr. Choi pick up your car and drive it to our home.

The way he mentioned our home melted my heart out. Good thing it's weekend tomorrow so I guess it's okay to stay late at work.

[Y/N]: Thank you love. You're the sweetest! I'll wait for you later. I love you.

[Mochii ♡]: Anything for my jagiya. It's not safe for you to drive late at night. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to you.

[Mochii ♡]: Laters, love. I have a meeting again. I'll pick you up later, okay? I love you too!

I smiled while reading his replies. His words just gives me warmth and it became my source of strength when I'm down and exhausted at work. Working at Kim Enterprises for 5 years burned me out so much. High expectations every day needed to set a bar and it's dragging me down sometimes. I haven't filed any vacation leave ever since I started here. I feel sorry for Jimin that we hadn't spent much time when we started working.

Maybe I should file a one week vacation leave, I think I deserve that.

JIMIN POV

It’s 9 o’clock in the evening and here I am scrolling on a website, checking what engagement ring I should get for Y/N. Looking for the right ring for 3 months is stressful and nervous. She’s beautiful, kind, simple, sweet, and caring that even she doesn’t like luxury things she’s like a precious jewel to me every time I look at her.

A knock came to the door of my office, “Come in.” I said, the door opened and Jungkook’s head popped in, “Oh, hey Jungkook!” I greeted, Jungkook is my hardworking and most reliable executive assistant I ever had and one of my trusted friends. “Hey. You’re staying late?” he asked, “Yeah. I’m just waiting for Y/N to finish her work then I’ll pick her up.” I said while looking at the damn screen and going back and forth on each selection of rings. Jungkook walked towards my desk, “Well that’s sweet.” he sat down on the couch and looked at me with a smirk, “What?” I asked, “So when will you pop the question?” he said, my eyes widened in his sudden question, “What are you talking about?” I couldn’t hide my surprised reaction, Jungkook pointed his lips on the glass window behind me, “I can see your laptop screen on the glass window.” he laughed. “Aish!” I hissed, “What are you doing here?” I asked while looking at him with my brows furrowed, trying to change the subject. “I just want to inform you that your Monday and Tuesday schedule is free. Two clients wants to reschedule their meetings on Wednesday.” he said, “And what is the reason?” I asked, looking back to my laptop and continued scrolling. “Nothing serious, don’t worry. It’s just that both brand managers had to attend a seminar for advertising for 2 consecutive days.” he said, I paused scrolling and sighed, I turned around to look at the cityscape, “Maybe I can use those days to spend time with Y/N.” I smiled. 

“I can block your schedule for that.” he said, I turned around to face him and just by hearing what he said I can’t help but feel exhilarated with the thought of spending more time with Y/N. “I think that would be great, thank you, Jungkook.” I smiled warmly, “Awesome. I’ll work on it now and head off.” he got off the couch, fixed his tie and I looked at my watch and it’s almost 10 o’clock in the evening, “I should go now. I have to pick up Y/N at work.” I said, I closed my laptop and put it in my shoulder bag, “You should go home now too, Jungkook. You can work on it at home so you can get some rest afterwards.” he nodded and we head out from my office, “Sure. Thank you. Have a safe drive.” he said, “You too.” I said and left the building.

I walked towards my black Porsche in the carpark and went inside. I started the engine and drive the car on the road to Y/N’s office.

TAEHYUNG POV

9 years ago

“Taehyung, I want you to meet Y/N. My girlfriend.” Jimin happily introduced her to me. She was breathtaking, how her long eyelashes flutter, how her eyes squint as she smiled at me. “Hello, Taehyung!” she reached out her hand to me and I just stared at her beauty. “Tae! Are you okay?” Jimin asked and I flinched, I cleared my throat and reached for her hand, “Hey, Y/N. Nice to meet you.” I said, and damn her hand is so soft, I just want to hold it forever.  I chuckled, “I know she’s beautiful, Tae.” Jimin said proudly, he wrapped his arms on her shoulders. I suddenly felt a pang in my heart while looking at how the two of them stared at each other and it confused me how I wish I was the one holding her close. How I wish I was the one who can make her giggle like that.

From that moment I realized I fell in love at first sight with my best friend’s girl.

Present

I noticed Y/N hasn’t come out of her office since our conversation. I think I made it too personal but after I saw that hickey on her neck it made me furious. It hurts that I’m not the one touching and holding her. I don’t know how much longer I can hold my feelings towards her. I tried everything to get rid of her in my mind but she’s still stuck in my head and in my heart. 

God I hope she’s not mad at me. I went to my pantry to make some coffee, good thing I know how much she likes her coffee - not too bitter. After making it I went to the front door of her office but since my hands are full, I knocked using my foot. “Come in.” she said, but I can’t open the door so I knocked again, “I already said come in.” she said, and I heard her foot steps getting closer to the door, she opened the door hastily and she stared at me trying to grasp why I was knocking several times, “Oh...” she reacted, “Sorry. My hands were full.” I grinned while holding up the two cups of coffee. “Can you join me for coffee?” I asked, handing her over her drink while wearing my boxy smile, she took the cup, “Sure. Come in.” she said, she stepped aside to let me enter her office.

"Please sit down." she gestured to the couch, I sat down and took a few sip of my coffee. She went to her desk and I can she busy or pissed at me.

It was an awkward silence and all I can hear is her typing from her laptop. "Hey..." I said, trying to break this silence. She didn't respond. Shit. "I'm sorry about this morning." I said, and she finally looked at me. I can see her eyes are tired and I hate myself that I was the caused of it. "I just had a rough morning." I lied, "I'm really sorry, Y/N." she took a breath and drank her coffee. "It's okay." she said, and I can feel she's not angry. She's exhausted.

As I try to come up with words to say to her, the door opened and it was Jimin. "Jagi!" he greeted happily and he was surprised to see me in her office, "Oh, Taehyung! Good to see you!" he went inside, "Hey, Jimin! Great to see you too." I said happily, "Are you guys having a meeting?" Jimin asked, "No, Taehyung just asked me for a coffee break." Y/N said weakly, and I can't hide my pain just by hearing how her voice sounded. Is she sick? 

"Hey, are you okay?" Jimin worried, He went to her side and touched her forehead, "You're burning." he said. My eyes widened with what I just heard. Oh my god. I overworked her. This is my fault. "Probably the air conditioner's temperature is too low." she smiled weakly to him, I looked at the clock and it's already past her overtime, I get off the couch, fixed my tie and cleared my throat, "You should go home now and get some rest." she stared at me blankly, "It's already past your overtime work." I tried my best to smile at her. I don't want to show her how worried I am to her. "Thank you, Taehyung. I'll tell my team to go home too." she said, "No it's okay. I'll be the one to tell them. Besides, Jimin is getting worried about you." she nodded and started to fix her things. "Thank you, Taehyung." Jimin said, "You're welcome. Y/N is a wonderful woman Jimin. You're very lucky to have her." a pang in my chest struck my heart with the words I just said. Jimin smiled "I know. That’s why I’m always looking after her.”

Y/N finally finished packing her things, "We'll be going now, Taehyung. If you have free time tomorrow maybe you can come over to our house. Just to relax and catch up." Jimin offered, "Thank you and I would love to. I'll check my schedule tomorrow if I can squeeze it in." I said, "You've been working too hard too, Tae." he frowned. He's right, since I started running the company, socializing was never one of my list of doings.

I just nodded and smiled to my best friend. "Enjoy your weekend." I said. "Bye Taehyung." Y/N said, I bid them farewell and they left. Leaving me alone in her office and I just stood here. I felt my heart aching, after seeing how Jimin held her close, how he touch her and how lucky he is to have her.

I wish I was the lucky man to have her instead of Jimin.

Will I ever have the chance to tell her how I feel? Does she also feel the same way to me? Will she leave Jimin for me?

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to share your thoughts. I would love to read them.

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Different Worlds (6)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn, me making stuff up

Word Count: 2342

A/N: I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it! Please comment your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist! 💗💜💙

~*~

Chapter 6: In Which Dean Is an Annoying Cockblock on Earth and in Hell by Fall Out Boy

“You’re back soon.” The words spilled from Jack’s mouth when he saw Bucky.

“Yeah, I just…” Bucky shifted his feet awkwardly. Why did he come here again? He certainly was curious at everything that was going on, but there was something, someone, else.

“Come in.” The young man stepped aside and Bucky stepped into the bunker. “Did you want to see (Y/N)?”

“That would be great.” The ex-assassin did feel more comfortable around (Y/N) rather than her brothers.

They passed the library where the team had learned about the supernatural. Today, the tables were covered in strange items, bowls, and open books. Nobody was doing anything with them at the moment, though.

Jack led Bucky deeper into the bunker which seemed empty at the moment. Bucky studied the man in front of him. He didn’t look like a great fighter, but after everything that was revealed to him, Jack could totally kick his ass. They walked down a hallway before coming to a stop in front of one of the doors.

“Everyone’s getting ready,” Jack explained. Ready for what, Bucky didn’t know and Jack didn’t specify. “This is (Y/N)’s room. You can wait in here.”

He opened the door for Bucky before heading back in the direction they came from. The first thing he noticed was that (Y/N) wasn’t there. Then he saw the other door and heard the sound of running water. She was probably showering.

(Y/N)’s room was clean enough; Bucky knew that it was sometimes hard to gather enough energy to clean up. Her blankets were pulled over her bed, but it was obvious that the action was done haphazardly. Her drawers weren’t closed all the way; a sign of either laziness or being rushed. A few photographs were displayed on the nearby desk that was cluttered with crumpled balls of paper, hair ties, and a couple of knives.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the knives before turning his attention to the photos. The first one showed a group photo. He recognized (Y/N), her brothers, and Cas, but not the two other women or the man in the wheelchair. Everyone, especially (Y/N), looked much younger.

The second picture was another group picture. This time, Jack was in it so it had been taken in the past… how old was Jack? Seven years? That fact still threw Bucky off. He was used to older people looking younger, like Steve and himself, rather than the opposite.

The last photo was much older than the first one. A woman wearing a  sundress and a large sun hat was smiling widely at the camera while holding the hand of a toddler. Bucky came to the quick conclusion that it was (Y/N) and her mother. 

The sound of the en suite’s door opening caused him to whirl around to face (Y/N). Why didn’t he hear the water turn off? The woman looked up and gasped at the sight of the man in her room.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky,” she scolded and placed a hand over her chest. 

That’s when he noticed that she didn’t have a shirt on. She had on jeans and a sports bra, and he saw a tattoo above her left collar bone. Bucky still wasn’t used to seeing women in just bras. Walking down the streets of New York, there were always advertisements for women’s lingerie. It made him uncomfortable, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the same discomfort around her.

As Bucky’s thoughts ran wild, (Y/N) continued swearing.

“You scared the goddamned fucking shit out of me. Don’t do that again or I’ll use you as a sacrifice,” the woman finished her rant. Then a smile broke out on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Just—I… uh,” the usually suave supersoldier stuttered. He didn’t know what made his brain stop working. Maybe it was because of (Y/N)’s lack of shirt? Or maybe it was just being in her presence that halted all train of thought.

“What’s wrong?” She followed his gaze and looked down before laughing. “Oh, usually I get dressed in the bathroom in case something like this happens but I forgot a shirt this time. Some people living here don’t understand personal space.” Bucky’s face grew red and (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “Was it Jack or Cas who let you in because I know my brothers wouldn’t even let you close to my room.”

“Jack,” Bucky laughed and felt himself relax. “I didn’t mean to startle you, by the way.” A moment of silence. “Is that your mother?” He gestured towards the photo.

(Y/N) moved closer until they were standing just over a foot away. She glanced at the photo and nodded in confirmation.

“She’s really pretty,” Bucky continued. “You look like her.”

(Y/N) looked at him with a large grin on her face. “Did you just call me pretty, Sarge?” 

He felt his breath hitch as she inched closer to him. Bucky was sure that she could see all the details on his face because he could see every detail of her’s. He could see a small scar near her hairline and another one above her right eyebrow. He could see into her breathtaking eyes. He followed the slope of her nose which led his eyes to her soft lips. They were beckoning to him, parted slightly as (Y/N) studied his face. When had they gotten so close? If he just bent down slightly… 

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s incessant banging on her bedroom door forced them apart. “What’s takin’ so long? Get your ass moving!” Then they heard his footsteps recede.

“I have to go,” (Y/N) sighed.

She slipped on a shirt, grabbed her knives and leather jacket, and walked out of her room. Bucky followed her out and could tell she felt the same way he did at the moment: disappointed. Why did her brother have to knock then?

They emerged into the library. Everyone looked up at their arrival and everyone but Jack did a double-take when they saw Bucky. Sam and Dean’s mouths became straight lines while Rowena, who was bent over a book, smirked.

“I guess you’re the reason she was taking so long,” Cas said.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, mostly to (Y/N).

“We’re going to Hell,” Jack smiled.

“Crowley took the Magicae Libro while we all drank beers the other day,” (Y/N) explained. “So we’re going to Hell to take it back from that son of a bitch.”

“Don’t call me a bitch, darling,” Rowena cooed as she added something to a bowl. “Is everyone ready?”

(Y/N) gasped and turned to face Bucky with her eyes wide. “You’re not busy, right? ‘Course you aren’t, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” She paused for a breath. “Do you wanna come to Hell with us?”

“Are you sure that’s wise, (Y/N)?” Sam asked.

“I’ll come,” Bucky said. “I can handle myself, I’m a supersoldier.” (Y/N) smiled at him and he was glad he said yes.

“I’m only saying okay because we don’t have time to argue,” growled Dean.

Rowena motioned for Sam who walked over to the bowl, cut his hand, and let his blood mix with the other ingredients. He stepped back next to Cas. The man in the trenchcoat nodded to Sam. Cas held his hand, that began to glow, above the taller man’s wounded hand and suddenly Sam’s hand was healed. Bucky watched the interaction with awe, but everyone else seemed used to it.

“Everyone who’s going, put your hand on the bowl,” Rowena ordered. They obliged and Cas moved out of the way.

“Remember, Cas,” said Dean. “Don’t let the fire die, or we’ll be stuck in Hell.��

“I know, Dean.” The angel rolled his eyes.

“Initium ad inferna permittatur,” Rowena read from her book. She picked up a nearby candle and lit the bowl’s content on fire.

The items in the bowl sparked and the flame turned purple. Some wind started to blow through the room causing hair to get into eyes and mouths. The library’s lights flickered as a bright white light filled the room and the purple flame jumped higher. Then everything reached its max and the flame almost reached the ceiling.

Bucky closed his eyes against the light and when he opened them again they were in Hell.

~*~

Once everyone got their bearings, you took out your weapons. You and Sam had angel blades and Dean had his demon-killing knife. Jack had his powers and Rowena had her magic.

“Here.” You nudged Bucky and held out a second angel blade. “Regular guns and knives don’t do shit to fuckers like demons.” He took it in his metal arm and examined it. “It’s called an angel blade. ‘Cause they belong to the angels. We kinda took ‘em, we did take them, but they can kill lots of things.”

Bucky smiled at you. “Thanks.”

“So where do you suppose we are?” Dean looked around.

“Somewhere in the castle,” Sam answered. “Hopefully near the throne room.”

“Looks like Fergus redecorated again,” Rowena sighed.

“Rowena is Crowley’s mom and his name was Fergus,” you whispered to Bucky when you saw his confused expression. “Don’t worry, it gave me a bit of a headache too.”

You walked quietly and cautiously down the castle’s hallways in pairs. Your brothers at the head of the line while you and Bucky lingered in the back. There were no encounters yet. Only seemingly endless doors that you knew held souls that were in line for torture. You remembered your time behind one of those doors. In total, you had spent fifteen earth days in Hell which was more like five years downstairs.

“How are you doing?” you whispered to Bucky. You were getting a bit bored sneaking around. And, of course, being in Hell wasn’t a pleasant experience.

“Fine,” he responded.

Wow, you loved his voice. Even in the literal Hell, Bucky and his voice managed to soothe you. Your mind flashed back to the moment in your bedroom. Only Chuck knew how bad you had wanted to punch your older brother for being a cockblock. Honestly, you still wanted to punch him, but now was definitely not the time.

“There’s just a general feeling of unease and despair,” he continued.

You nodded in agreement. “I never like coming here.”

“So you have been to Hell before?”

“Yep,” you said a bit louder than you intended and Rowena looked back at you with a glare. You lowered your voice and continued, “Been here both as a guest and a soul.”

“When you died,” the blue-eyed man said slowly. “You came to Hell and you were tortured?” You nodded. “I-if you don’t mind me asking, how?”

“Well, there were lots of different ways.” You trained your eyes on the ground before you. “The usual strung up on racks and cut open torture. There was some psychological torture, you know. Making you think that you’re saved, only to be brought to some demon who likes to flay people.”

You felt Bucky’s gaze and looked up to meet it. You weren’t met with pity, but rather a look of understanding. You’ve done your research on Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and you know that he’s been through something like Hell too.

“Apparently, according to Cas, Crowley turned Hell into a giant line that souls had to wait in,” you said trying to lighten the mood.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“You just did,” you smirked at him but told him to ask away.

“You have a tattoo,” he said. “I was just wondering what it was.”

“Not really a question,” you joke. Bucky rolled his eyes, but you couldn’t help yourself. “But it’s an anti-possession tattoo.” You stop in your tracks and pull your shirt collar down to show him. “Kinda puts a damper on things when you have to kill a demon possessing your friend. All hunters get them. If you’re gonna be hangin’ ‘round us, you’re gonna need one too.”

“Can I?” He reached out his right hand and motioned towards the tattoo.

When you gave your nod of approval, he ran his hand over the inked skin, tracing it gently, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You stepped closer and his hand stilled.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“What for?” You bring your empty hand up to his and held it to your chest.

“That you had to be tortured. That you actually went through Hell.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that. Not at all.” You stepped closer. Close enough to feel his body heat. “I’m sorry as well. You basically went through Hell too.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Bucky repeated.

His lips were so close. If you just moved forward…

The sound of someone loudly and obnoxiously clearing their throat forced you apart once more. You closed your eyes and tried to convince yourself that you shouldn’t resort to murder just because you couldn’t kiss someone. Dean continued to clear his throat until Bucky was at least three feet away from you.

While you were gearing up to kiss Bucky, the four other members of the group had made it to the end of the hallway. You made your way to the group, glaring at your oldest brother the entire way.

“About time,” he snarked and you rolled your eyes.

“I think we’re getting close,” Sam said quickly to change the subject. “Can you guys hear that?” He gestured to the ornate door that had escaped your notice.

You all became silent and the sound of music reached your ears. Everyone glanced around at each other in confusion.

“Is-is that,” you listen for a second longer, “Fall Out Boy?”

It was indeed Fall Out Boy. Dean pushed open the door and you all readied your weapons and defenses. You were met with a long table covered in food. Crowley stood at the head of the table with his arms open wide.

“Welcome to Hell.”

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666 @broco8​

[tripstaysnoided]

Flow Just Like Water

Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

[theokotrain]

Vestige - Interlude: The Party

Wattpad Version

As the night fills the sky

All my fears are dissipating

'Cause I feel reassured

That I might make it through

And if all my luck should burn

Then I guess it burned for you

---

April 13th, 2012

I was sitting on my bed, back against the bed frame with my knees raised in front of me, holding up my laptop. I had been spending the last few hours writing an essay for my English class, specifically answering the topic question my teacher had given everybody: "How do our past experiences influence our decisions?". The question was simple enough, it's a pretty universally recognized idea that stuff that happens to us has an effect on our decision making. I mean, that's what it means to grow, right? You gain more knowledge as you live through life and form new memories, and that helps you make more informed decisions in the future.

I've never really been too good at writing anything analytical, especially non-fiction. Essays and research papers that required informed arguments that helped to prove your point? Those were an entirely unknown game to me, one which I had never managed to breeze through. Of course, we were supposed to use some of the books we've read this year as evidence for our arguments, so that at least made it a bit easier, even if most of the books were ones from nearly five decades ago and definitely out of touch at this point. The sound of my laptop's keys clicking as I typed away were the only sounds I could pick up in the room. I had my earphones in for a bit, but those always hurt my ears after a while, so I had taken them out.

Looking at the time in the corner of my laptop screen, it was 4:43 PM. I started writing as soon as I got home from class, so I've only been going for about an hour. Unfortunately, this essay is a non-insignificant amount of my course grade, so I needed to finish this as soon as possible.

God, it's a Friday! I could be out doing something actually fun with Shae and the other guys. Isn't that the whole point of high school? That's what it always seemed like in movies, at least, but I guess I've been a victim of false advertising.

After a bit more time passes, the sound of my phone ringing from my desk brings me out of my writing trance. I sigh, setting my laptop next to me on the bed, not wanting to get out of bed, but eventually forcing myself into maneuvering over to the desk, I grab the phone and flip it open, looking to see the Caller ID.

Shaela.

I instantly accept the call, it's almost second nature at this point. She calls me at least once a day so she can tell me about whatever person is pissing her off that day, or whatever drama she's heard from her other friends. I was never really one for gossip, or whatever, but I did appreciate talking to her.

I put the phone up to my ear, "What's up?" I say, a tinge of fatigue in my voice.

"Hey! Just warning you that I'm like five minutes from your place and you don't have a say in the matter." She replied bluntly. I can hear the sound of cars driving by on the other side of the phone, so she's obviously outside, confirming her words.

I take a deep breath before speaking, "...Why?" I said with exasperated sarcasm.

"Because! I have something to tell you, and if I say it over the phone then I seriously doubt it'll work out in the way I'm hoping it does."

"That clears up nothing, actually, and now I regret picking up."

"Even if you didn't answer, that doesn't stop your parents from letting their son's lovely goody-two-shoes of a friend stop by for a visit!" She exclaimed, a mischievous tone subtly layered in her voice.

She's not wrong.

"Wow, you make this sound like you're sneaking into a high-security building or something." I say, utterly confused at her motives. "Obviously you can come over, but I'm not exactly filled with confidence at whatever you're planning."

"Like I said, I can't tell you yet, but it's gonna be awesome!" She said. There was an unusual perkiness to her that made itself pretty clear over the phone.

Before I can say anything, I'm met with the dial tone, signalling that she had hung up. The only thing I can do at this point is wait for her to get here, I guess. She always lets herself in when she comes over, so I don't make the effort to meet her downstairs. A sudden ping sound fills the quiet room, seeming to come from my laptop. I get back into bed, looking to see where the notification came from.

It's a message from Tyler.

He's definitely the newest member of our little group, if even that. I'm the only person in the group that he's actually friends with so far, despite my efforts to bring him along on any plans we all make. I only met the Grey Wolf back in February, at the beginning of the second semester, in the school's photography class. Nobody I knew signed up for it, and due to our prestigious high school's advanced budget for technology, we were forced to be paired up for shared computer use in the Photography Room. I suppose Tyler was also fortunate enough to not know anybody in the class, as we ended up being paired together by the teacher. He was definitely someone I could only describe as uninterested, as the first week or two I spent with him in that class consisted of him either giving me one word answers or answering in the most blunt, bored tone he could manage. Though, it seemed that it took a bit of persistence on my part to push him to be more open, and since then he's grown to be a pretty great friend.

Tyler: u goin to that party tonight ive been hearin about?

Party? I wasn't made aware of anything like that, at least... not yet. Something in the back of my brain was telling me that Shae had ulterior motives about coming to my place so suddenly, but I'm still hoping that I'm wrong. I hate parties.

Jake: party? havent heard anything, are u going?

Tyler: thinkin about it

think its gonna be over at chris's place, guess his parents r gone for the weekend or somethin

Jake: chrisssss? ughh that guy is such an asshole

Tyler: yeah u dont havee to go, but itd prob be more fun to have someone u actually know there

The way he worded that was directed at me, but I could tell he didn't want to go on his own.

Jake: i guess ill think about it

Tyler: sickk, call me if u make up ur mind

Before I can type my farewells over IM, Shaela energetically bursts through the door.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me, don't you knock?" I said, mildly exasperated.

"Oh come on, I literally called you a few minutes ago, you had plenty of time to not make a situation where it'd be a bad idea for me to barge in," She replies, laughing, before setting her bag on the ground and dramatically falling into my bed. "Today was garbage."

"What happened?"

"Ugh, Claire decided to just not show up, I guess, on the day we're supposed to present that stupid History project? And, obviously, she didn't give me her part of the project or anything, so I had tell Mr Thomas about the situation, which was fucking embarrassing." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Luckily, he said he wouldn't reduce my grade for handing it in late, since I actually had my part finished. God, what a bitch- I must've called her like thirty times before class to get her to email me her part, and every time it went straight to voicemail - and she told me last night that she'd have it ready for today!"

"Have you gotten a hold of her yet?" I asked, closing my laptop and setting it beside me.

Shae turns her head to me, shaking her head, "Nope, she's been ghosting me all day."

"Sounds like typical Claire."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have partnered with her, but apparently I can't say no to anyone, so..." I chuckle lightly in response. "Anyways! I didn't just come here to complain to you!" She says, sitting up on the bed, now facing towards me.

"Right... So what was so important that you just had to tell me in person?" I say, sarcastically.

"Like I said, if I asked you over the phone you would've definitely said no, and my ability to pressure you into doing things isn't as effective unless it's in person!" She responded.

I subtly rolled my eyes, but it's clear she noticed from the stare-down she gave me, "Okay, so what is it?"

"Soooooo..." She says, trying to find the rest of the words, "There's a party."

Wow.

"Wh- did everybody know about that party except for me?!?" I exclaimed.

Shaela's face quickly turns to an expression of shock, "Who told you?"

"Tyler did, like, not even five minutes ago." I say, bluntly.

"What? How does he know Chris?"

"Friend-of-a-friend, I'm guessing?"

"Hmm..." She hummed, thinking about something, "So, did you tell him you were going?"

"I specifically said I'd think about it, nothing definite." I made it clear in my tone that I wasn't particularly interested.

"Oh, come on, dude! It'll be fun!"

I didn't really have an interest in going, but I know it'd make Shae happy, plus it'd be nice to hang out with Tyler again even if we've only known each other for a couple months.

"...Fine. But, if Chris or any of his buddies start shit, I'm leaving."

"Awesome!"

"Lemme just call Tyler and let him know," I said as I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, finding Tyler in my contact list and dialling.

"You gonna bring him with-" The phone rings a few times before he picks up and I extend my hand out towards Shae in a shushing motion. She rolls her eyes, smirking.

"Hey? So are ya gonna go?" He said eagerly.

"Well, Shae showed up at my door literally right after you messaged me, asking the same thing!" I exclaimed in a fake-preppy voice. "So, I guess I have no choice since she'll probably just drag me there if I say no," I joked. She nods her head toward me in response.

"Oh, is she going too?" He inquired.

"Yeah, I guess so! Your place is kinda on the way to Chris', so we could probably meet you at your place and go from there."

"Yeah! Sounds good!" He quickly responded.

I laughed, "Okay, we'll call you when we get there?"

"Sure thing!"

We exchanged our farewells, and hung up. The party wasn't for at least another hour or two, so Shae and I had some time to burn, of which I was entirely out of ideas. I figured I could at least spend this time actually being productive, so I grabbed my laptop and continued on writing my English essay as Shae resumed her previous conversation topic of stuff at school that was pissing her off. It was pretty entertaining, to be fair. She was telling me about how Chris had gotten in a fight with this other kid in our grade yesterday after class, which I wasn't lucky enough to witness, but it was obviously all anyone would talk about for basically the entire day today so word spread around fast. The part I hadn't heard about was that both Chris and the other guy, Nathan, got suspended for a week because of it. Chris was generally an asshole to everybody, including myself, so I didn't feel too bad about that. Although, I didn't know Nathan all that well. Other than having a few classes together, I don't think I've ever held an actual conversation with the guy. I think it was safe to assume that Chris was the one who started it, and Shae seemed to agree with me, even though she hadn't seen the fight either.

"But, apparently Nathan's gonna show up tonight!" She exclaimed coyly.

"...Remind me again why you want me to go to this specific party?"

"You'll have a great time! It's not like we'll be involved in the drama anyway so think of it more as entertainment!"

"I think you and I have different definitions of the word 'entertainment'," I joked.

"I'm sure you can go run off somewhere with Tyler if you're not having fun," She said, her tone reminding me of my mom.

"Oh yeah? What about you?"

"I can't just leave Alex at a party with Chris, those two start shit between each other so much and I'd rather not deal with the aftermath of that today."

"I'm guessing it's safe to assume that Elliot's going too, then?"

"He's not big on parties, but he'll usually go if everyone else is, unlike somebody," She says, gesturing towards me.

"Good one," I reply, unmoving as I keep typing away at my assignment.

"Well, we should probably leave soon since we're stopping at Tyler's place on the way.

I saved the document I had been working on, closing my laptop. "Sounds good to me!"

---

"I can't believe you actually agreed to go." Tyler joked as we walked towards the road from his house.

"Yeah, me either." I replied. I definitely didn't put in any effort in dressing up for the party, opting for a snug space-themed graphic tee, along with black jeans and a white zip-up hoodie. Shae and Tyler both stand on opposite sides of me as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Luckily I learned the subtle techniques in convincing you to do things against your better judgement, so now you get to have fun for once!" Shae exclaimed.

"It's not my fault that going to a party is literally the last thing on earth I'd do for fun in any normal situation." I retorted, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Oh yeah? And what do you consider a 'normal situation'?" Shae asks.

"Any situation where you guys aren't the ones trying to get me to go! I'm only doing this for you two, y'know." I said, looking over at both of them.

"What about Elliot and Alex?" Tyler chimed in.

"They aren't the ones asking me to go to this party." I sarcastically remarked, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted. "Speaking of the party- this is Chris we're talking about, there's gonna be beer, right?"

"Uh, duh?" Shae replied.

"Yeah, that's a definite no for me, I'm already enough of a disappointment to my parents,"

"No one's making you drink, Jake. At least you'd be safe if some old hag called the cops about the noise." Shae said.

"I think at that point we're guilty by association, so we'd just make a run for it if that happens," Tyler joked.

"Dude, the chance of me outrunning a police officer successfully is about as likely as me not wanting to punch Chris tonight."

"And the chance of you winning that fight is just as low!" Shae retorted, Tyler laughing in response.

"I specifically said 'want' because of that very reason!"

"Wow, I'd pay money to see you fight that guy." Tyler said, nudging his elbow into my side.

It isn't a secret that I'm not exactly athletic. I mean, I'm definitely not weak, but fighting basically any animal of a similar size to mine was not a situation that favoured my victory.

"That sounds more like just getting the shit kicked outta me for your entertainment." I remarked, lightly punching Tyler's shoulder in return.

"Absolutely worth every penny!" Shae exclaimed. Luckily, the place wasn't any more than ten minutes away from Tyler's place, so I didn't have to endure listening to these two talk about me getting beat up for much longer.

We finally make it to Chris' house, and I'm suddenly filled with an impending sense of regret. Obviously, my parents would never in a million years agree to me going to a party like this. As far as they know, I'm just spending the evening hanging out with Shae at Tyler's house. So yeah, this entire night had a lot of potential for disaster.

Shae can clearly see my hesitation, because she grabs my hand, leading me up the walkway, Tyler following closely behind.

"I wonder if Elliot and Alex beat us here?" She says, knocking on the front door.

"I doubt they had anything to do earlier, hell they probably came straight here after school, knowing Alex." I said, laughing.

Our conversation is cut short by the opening door, revealing the familiar black cat.

"Oh, look, the Stephenson kid brought his girlfriend!" Chris exclaimed mockingly, looking back into the house, before peering around my shoulder, "And... Tyler?" He said, inquisitively.

I lean over, blocking Tyler from his line of sight, "Yeah, hey, not dating by the way!" I said. I've known Shae since I first moved to Vestige, around the time I turned five years old, so it wasn't uncommon for rumours to go around that we were dating. I've always thought of her more as a sister, if anything.

"I asked them to come!" Tyler said. That was only partly true, but according to Tyler, they've been 'somewhat-friends' for quite a while now, so saying that would at least mean less mild-harassment from Chris for tonight.

"Oh, uh, okay... come on in! But you're on the hook for any shit they pull, Tyler!" He said, opening the door wider.

---

The party had been going on for a few hours at this point. I could recognize most of the animals here from school, but not enough to actually hold a conversation with any of them, so most of my time here had just been spent with Shae and Tyler. The place hasn't been incredibly crowded luckily, but there were easily about forty others in this part of the house alone. I'm assuming only high school grades were invited, but there were a considerable number of students to meet that requirement. The issue at hand for me, other than how crowded this place is, is that both Shae and Tyler ditched me to go... somewhere? I think Shae saw some of her friends and went somewhere with them, but Tyler was pretty secretive about where he was going, only telling me that he'd be back in a bit. So I've been standing here in this random corner of the house with a drink in hand, trying to make myself look busy and not awkward, which is exactly why I didn't want to go to this party in the first place!

"Jake!" A voice shouted from a ways away.

I turn my head in confusion, revealing Alex, walking towards me from across the room.

"Oh, Alex! Hey! What's up dude!" I finish the last bit of my soda, waving at him. Because this was Chris' party, there was obviously beer too, but I didn't feel like coming home drunk and my parents finding out.

"I didn't think you'd wanna come to something like this! Feeling the regret yet?"

"I like parties! It's the times like these when I'm standing in a corner by myself with nothing to do that I hate, which seems to happen every time I go to a party!" I exclaimed, pausing for a moment. "Okay, maybe I do hate parties- I've had to explain this so many times today I'm about ready to jump into Lake Ambuscade."

' "Wow, sounds like somebody needs to socialize instead of stewing in a corner for the rest of the night!"

"Socialize? Really? I know just about everybody here and just about none of them are worth talking-"

"Hang with me and Elliot, then? Justin set up some racing games in the other room, we were gonna join, but we could use a fourth... You in?" He said, his tone obviously trying to sound coercing.

"God, please, anything to get me out of this corner for the next three hours." I said, Alex returning my words with a laugh.

"Well, come on then! We'll have to hurry if we want to get one of the good controllers!" He exclaimed, motioning to follow him.

As we move through the various cliques, I recognize a few faces here and there, though not enough to actually want to talk to them. There's been music playing since we got here, and I have yet to recognize a single song, they all seem to be some form of drone-y bass-heavy music that I can't say I've heard in any normal situations. I'm doing my best to follow Alex, although he keeps weaving between the other animals faster than I can keep up, resulting in me having to shove past everyone near me in an effort to speed myself up. Luckily, it seems that no one notices me anyway.

When we arrive in the other room, it seems to just be another living room, but decorated with a galore of punk band posters, shelves holding more DVD cases than I would ever care to count, and even a mini-fridge. Maybe Chris is the type to have a 'man cave' or something? Just hearing that phrase almost makes me want to vomit, but there aren't any more accurate words that come to mind. The room isn't massive or anything, but the TV resting upon the wall across the room seems to challenge that idea, looking almost eighty inches in size. Luckily no randoms from the party were in here, sitting about ten feet away from the TV is Elliot, leaning back in a purple bean bag chair that seems almost three times bigger than him, and Justin, the cougar I'd only known slightly through Alex, laying down sideways on the couch directly in front of the gigantic screen.

"Whatttt! You took the bean bag chair? Lameee..." Alex whined.

"You're the one who wanted to go get Jake, you snooze you lose!" Elliot retorted, looking oddly proud of himself.

"Damn, wish I had a room like this at my house..." I mumbled, looking around the room.

"Are we gonna play or what?" Justin said, cutting through the momentary silence.

"Duh!" Alex claimed.

Justin sits up, taking the spot on the couch closest to Elliot. I opt for the leftmost seat, and Alex sits in-between the both of us. Elliot grabs the other three controllers and tosses them over at us, one by one. Luckily, there weren't any garbage third-party controllers, so at least none of us would have to deal with that. I will admit, it did feel kinda weird going to someone's party just to play games away from everybody, but I would be lying if I said I didn't prefer that, even though I rarely play games, if ever.

After Justin turns the console on, he goes through the menus, launching the game. I can't say I recognize the title, but it seems to be a pretty standard racing game. He goes into the custom mode, opting for a four-player split-screen match, choosing 'R1' as the category of cars to race in. As everyone chooses their cars, I scroll through the list, not really knowing what to pick. I've never been good with car stuff, so I pick an 'Aston Martin Lola' just based on the number-rating system the game ranks the cars with.

"You guys ready?" Justin asks.

"Oh yeah, get ready to eat my dust you guys!" Elliot exclaims, challengingly.

"Oddly prideful words for someone about to lose!" Alex replies, laughing.

The countdown begins, as the cameras slowly show the view of each car as it moves to the rear. When it starts, I somehow manage the fuckup of spinning my tires out, leaving me a few seconds behind the others as the car swerves back and forth. I curse under my breath as I try to regain control of the car, and swiftly pick up speed. The track seems like nothing I haven't seen before, a typical professional track, with rows and rows of audience seating to the side. Unfortunately, I'm now in last place. The next few moments of the track are a few quick corners, allowing me the chance to catch up, at least a little.

Unexpectedly, the track turns off of the main road, going into a forested area. The road is considerably more narrow at this point, so it takes a conscious effort to not drive into the trees by the asphalt. It looks like the road stretches on forever, as I still can't make out any upcoming turns. I guess the car I chose for the race had a better top speed than Justin's, as I'm quickly catching up to him, moving into third place. I'm gripping my controller to an uncomfortable degree, but I can't seem to relax the tension as I try to make my way into second place. I don't think I can pick up any more speed in this car, so me moving up is reliant on the road staying straight for just a bit longer. After what feels like a lifetime, the front of my car finally starts making it past Elliot's, then the midsection, and finally, I'm in second. The sound of all four car engines is drowning out any remnants of the video game music, and I feel the sudden urge to curse out whoever turned the TV volume up this high. My eyes are focused entirely on Alex's car as I make my final push into first place. If I were actually driving this fast in the real world, I'd be scared out of my fucking mind. Out of nowhere, Alex, and the others, begins to slow down considerably.

Oh fuck.

It's at that point I notice that there is a sharp right turn rapidly approaching. I've been pushing the top-speed of this car since the beginning of this stretch of road, and now I'm going too quickly to stop in time. What's the button to use the handbrake, again? I figure that the only way for me to not fuck up this race for myself is to try to drift around the corner. Considering I've never played this game before, it's going to prove to be a challenge. But, it's either that, or just ending up in dead-last again.

I hold down the A button, and pull the joystick as far to the right as possible. Suddenly, all I can hear from the game is the loud skidding sounds of my tires against the asphalt. To my surprise, I cut the corner a bit early, now going over the grass. I try to do a bit of directional-corrections and start heading back onto the track. Going over the grass definitely slowed me down a fair bit, but it definitely was a significantly better outcome over just crashing into the wall. And, to my surprise, the corner of my screen reads... first?!?

"How the fuck...?" Alex questions, seemingly in disbelief.

"I wish I could tell you." I replied, eyes wide at whatever the fuck just happened.

The distance I managed to gain on Alex isn't by a whole lot, but there's only about a quarter of the track left before we reach the finish line, so I have a chance at winning this. The track hurriedly changes from the forest as it reenters the main track. The long, straight roads seem to end as the road becomes a slow series of sharp turns, never giving me the opportunity to get back up to speed. It seems like the high top speed was my only advantage, because at every corner we take, I turn my camera around, revealing the other cars inching closer and closer to me.

I can see the finish line on the mini-map, just a few more turns away. I know that I'm not gonna be able to distance myself from Alex and the others at this point, so my only feasible strategy is to keep moving, cutting the corners as fast as I can, and getting to the finish line before they can pass me. Unfortunately, Alex's car seems to be getting too close for comfort now, meaning I might have to take some risks to ensure I can stay in first. As we approach the final turn, leading into the finish line, I realise I'm gonna have to try to drift this corner. I can feel my pointer finger practically cracking the plastic on the controller from the amount of pressure I'm putting on the right trigger. In a final plea to win, I push down on the A button, pulling the handbrake. The car starts to smoothly skid around the corner. Luckily, there are barriers on the sides of the road this time, preventing me from sliding onto the grass. To my surprise, the drift seems to work better than expected. That is, until, like the fucking idiot I am, make a slight overcorrection towards the left barriers as I exit the drift. I managed to avoid driving directly into the wall, but it did slow me down a bit.

Alex is immediately behind me, and I put all of my strength into accelerating towards the finish line. I'd be fucked if I broke the controller, cause I can't really afford the fifty dollars to buy a new one, but winning this race is more important to me at the moment. The finish line is only about five-hundred metres away, and Alex is slowly beginning to pass. All I can do at this point is push the gas as much as I can, and pray that I can cross the finish line before he can get back into first place. The finish line gets closer and closer, and it seems like it's gonna be too close for me to accurately tell the winner. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest from how stressful this fucking game has been, and now, we're about to find out whose efforts paid off. As each car makes its way over the finish line, each of our dedicated sections of the screen turns to slow motion. When it's finally over, the text fades in on each screen, revealing our place...

...

...

...Second?!?

"FUCK!" I shouted, realising I had been holding my breath since the final stretch of the race.

"HA! Dude, you suck!" Alex exclaimed, playfully shoving me.

"I think that was the most effort I've put into anything in my life." I said, setting my controller on the coffee table in front of me.

"Wow, that's dramatic," Justin remarked.

"Yeah, that's the usual for Jake," Elliot replied, laughing.

"You probably woulda won if you picked a better car, dude. That track was way too close-quarters so you should've gone with a car with better acceleration." Alex said.

"Wha- do you own this game?" I questioned, looking accusatory.

"...Yeah? It came out a few months ago, pretty popular right now." He replied.

"Ugh, this is what I get for playing with a bunch of gamers." I exclaimed, applying a disgusted tone to the last word.

"Not my fault you only play like one game a month!" Alex joked.

"Even then, I was like this close to beating you anyway!" I said, gesturing a minuscule distance between my thumb and pointer finger.

A voice interrupts our argument, coming from right outside the room, "Uh huh...

...

Really? That's bullshit! Come on...

...

Dude, give me a couple of days, I'll make it right!

...

Yeah, I swear."

It seems that we all stopped talking to listen in at the same time. "That sounds like Tyler... who's he arguing with?" Elliot asked. I can't make out the voice of whoever he's talking to, it just sounds like mumbling.

They seem to pause for a moment, and the sound of a single set of footsteps can be heard.

"Fuck..." Tyler says to himself, still out of view.

"...I should probably see what's up, you guys can keep playing without me." I say, getting up from my spot on the couch.

"Yeah, you do that! Less competition for me," Alex exclaims, laughing to himself.

"Hey, I can still beat your ass at this game, I know exactly which car to pick this time!" Elliot argued.

"Yeah, right! Guess we'll find out!"

I leave as the three start up another game, kind of glad I don't have to have another near-heart attack from playing again. When I get back into the dimly-lit hallway, Tyler is nowhere to be seen.

I look around, heading into the main room of the house to see if I can spot him. It's pretty difficult to see anything, because of how dim it is here, plus the sheer amount of animals crowding up the place. Despite that, I manage to spot the Grey Wolf a ways away, hurrying quickly into the bathroom.

As I shove my way through a few groups of teens, I almost fall over a few times, gaining confused stares from a few in the room. I lightly knock on the bathroom door, waiting for a response, "Hey, you okay Tyler?" After a few moments, I'm returned with no answer, "...Tyler-" Before I can finish my sentence, Tyler swiftly pulls open the bathroom door, pulling me in and shutting the door behind me, before sitting down on the side of the bathtub. As I'm about to say something, I hear the sound of him sniffling.

...Is he crying?

He's looking towards the floor, so I can't confirm it visually, but the sound definitely gives it away.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Did something happen?" I asked worriedly, not yet choosing to bring up the argument we overheard.

There's a few seconds of silence as he tries to bring himself together, not very successfully. "I- I... I don't- I don't think I can-"

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I tried to reassure him. He raises his head for a moment to look at me, trying to find words to say, instead opting to go back to crying, head in his hands. I've never been good with situations like this, so I sit down next to him, putting my hand on his upper back, softly patting.

"I'm sorry- I'm a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"Hey! I've been having fun! Don't worry about me, it seems like you're the one who shouldn't have come." I joke, in some effort to lighten the mood.

Shit, was that inconsiderate of me to say?

To my surprise, he manages to let out a light laugh, "Yeah, I'm starting to realise that."

"...Do you wanna leave, then? They know I didn't want to go here in the first place, so you could just say you're being nice and walking me home." I didn't know if he would actually take up that offer, but I know some guys have a weird thing about not wanting to seem 'uncool' and leaving a party early was definitely considered that.

He thinks for a moment, still sniffling pretty noticeably. "...okay, just- give me a minute, I don't want to go out there looking like this." He mumbles, looking towards the door.

"Yeah, that's fine." I said, continuing to rub around his neck area.

This definitely wasn't how I expected the night to go. But it was a sort of 'two-birds-with-one-stone' kind of situation. I get to help out Tyler, which is usually the other way around, I get to leave early, and hopefully Shae stops bugging me about going to parties, at least for a while.

Now that I think about it, that analogy is pretty messed up.

A few silent minutes go by as I sit next to the still-crying Tyler, waiting for him to recollect himself. Even though he hasn't actually said anything here, in the two months I've known him, this is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. When I first met him, it was pretty accurate to describe him as the kind of guy who acts like he never feels emotion. Hell, even I refuse to be open about my feelings, but most of my friends see through that nowadays. Even now, I don't really understand why I do that. I guess it's just easier to not talk about shit like that? Is that why Tyler does it?

"I think I'm good now," He said, shaking his hands as he stood up.

"Okay, let's get out of this dumpster fire." I sarcastically remarked. Tyler shot me a confused look in return. "Whatever, let's just go."

I open the bathroom door, grabbing his arm as I lead him out into the main room. Almost immediately the voice of a certain black cat perks up behind us.

"Oh? And what did you two get up to in there?" Chris remarked, laughing, "I didn't know you guys were THAT kind of friends!"

God damnit. This stupid fucking feline.

"Yeah, it's too loud out here for me, I needed a break, he came with." I explained, Tyler standing closely behind me with a confused look on his face. Just roll with it, dude, I think to myself, knowing I probably shouldn't say that out loud.

"You know, I would believe that, but normal guys actually just go outside when they need a break." He replied.

"Well, hey! That's where we're going right now, so it all checks out!" I say in the bitchiest voice I can muster.

"Heh, sure thing, Jake." He said, sounding weirdly satisfied with himself. I didn't want to spend any more time in this fucking house than I needed to, especially while talking to Chris, so I continue on, pulling Tyler by the hand towards the exit. After a few moments, we make it to the front door. I promptly open it and we both head outside.

We're immediately greeted by the light of the moon and the starry sky as we head down the walkway toward the street. One of the few benefits of living in such a backwater town was the absence of any significant light pollution. I've been to Portland a few times for school field trips and such, and seeing the sheer difference in visible stars was absolutely staggering. I could only imagine what it would be like to go stargazing in the middle of nowhere.

"At least it's a nice night out." I said.

"Yeah..." Tyler replied, his mind clearly in a completely different place.

"I should probably tell Shae where we went, so she doesn't freak out trying to find us back there." I joked, pulling out my cell phone. Texting on my flip phone was an arduous task, but I didn't want to call her, so I had not much of a choice.

I send the text, and close my phone, returning it to my pocket. As we walk down the road, we stew in the silence, the only auditory sounds coming from the party still close by, and the local crickets chirping.

I won't lie, as much as I usually appreciate quiet, this is the loudest silence I've ever been stuck in. It goes on for more than five minutes. I could tell he wanted to say something, and I was eager to find out whatever was going on that started this in the first place. But, like the coward I am, I try to lighten the mood.

"Hopefully that satisfied your quota of me going to parties with you for a while, cause I do not plan on having the energy for something like that again for at least a few months." I said, awkwardly laughing. He doesn't respond, at least for a while, as he raises his hand, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "...Uhh, are you sure you don't wanna talk about it? I mean-"

"Can I tell you something?" He interrupted, his voice still cracking like it was in the bathroom.

"...Sure?" I replied, slightly confused.

"It's just that- I don't really know- like what-"

"-to say? Just think for a minute. No rush." That's what my dad always says whenever my mind spirals. I used to be really anxious, although I've been getting better at controlling my thoughts in the past few years.

When I went to text Shae a few minutes ago, my phone's clock read 9:48 PM. I'm supposed to be home at ten and we're still at least twenty minutes away, not even including the detour we'll take to get to Tyler's place. Which brings me to the realisation that, when we get to his house, I'm gonna have to walk the rest of the way home by myself, in the dark. If I get murdered by some serial killer this late at night I'm gonna fucking haunt Shae from the afterlife-

"I think I'm gay," He quickly says, his voice holding a noticeable increase in energy compared to what I've been used to tonight.

Well... can't say that's exactly what I was expecting. Was I expecting anything in particular? I honestly don't know anymore. His words took me by surprise, my brain is kind of scrambled right now. I look over at him - he's looking back at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction. I did my best to conceal any facial reaction, but it's pretty clear that my lack of a response is starting to become noticeable.

"...You... think?"

"Well, like- I don't know. I guess I've just been thinking for a while, and it makes sense... all things considered." He replied anxiously.

"That- That's great! Does anyone else know?"

"I only really realised a few weeks ago, so... no. But compared to anyone else, I probably trust you the most to not like- tell anyone?" He said, looking over at me again.

"Well, I appreciate the completely undeserved confidence you have in me," I joked, realising too late that now probably isn't the time for that, "Yeah, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," He replies, a genuine smile strewn across his face.

A few minutes go by as we walk down the road, absorbing the positive energy we created. Having only known Tyler for a little over two months, it definitely surprised me knowing that he trusted me more than anyone else to keep a secret like that... I mean, despite the short amount of time since I met him, I'm as close to him as I've been to Shaela for the past eight years. Maybe even closer? I barely even tell Shae about my actual problems, at least the non-surface level stuff. So yeah, I guess it makes sense that he would trust me with something so important, I know I would absolutely trust him if it were me in that situation.

"...So, do you think you're gonna tell your dad?"

He didn't say anything for a moment as he stared down at the ground beneath him, "I'll probably have to tell him soon, if he has to find out from some asshole that isn't me it'd make it ten times more difficult than if I just said it myself."

I agreed, and we let the conversation cut itself off as we finally approached Tyler's house. I followed him up the walkway and stood on the patio, making sure he actually got inside. He tries the doorknob eagerly, to no avail. Realising that it was locked, he reaches into his pocket for his key - again, to no avail.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Tyler mumbled under his breath, clearly done with tonight. All of the lights were off in the house, signalling that his dad was not awake.

"Maybe you'll wake him up if you knock? Then he can let you in."

"Nonono, he thinks I'm staying at your place! If he finds out I went to a party I'm in deep shit," He whispered.

Of course. If I had to lie to my parents, why would I expect anything different from anyone else?

"Okay, uhh... maybe we can make that lie... not a lie?" I said, sounding weirder than I'd like.

Tyler looked at me, confused for a moment, eyes widening as he realised what I meant, "I can't let you do that, I've already forced you through too much shit tonight."

"Oh, come on, of course you can sleep at my place for the night! My parents think I'm at your house right now, so I can just tell them that we both went over there early in the morning. They love you anyway, so it won't be a problem!"

He didn't move at all, still looking reluctant, "Are you sure it won't be... weird? I don't want to put you in an awkward situation cause of w- what I told you."

"Dude, that couch in my room has a hide-a-bed if you don't want to share mine. Either way, we're friends, aren't we? I trust you."

After a few moments of silence, he speaks up, "...I guess so-"

"Great, then it's settled!" I said, putting my arm around his shoulder as I led him back down the walkway.

---

Once we make it to my place, walk up the creaky wooden steps of my patio as I fish the house key out of my pocket. Tyler's standing closely behind me, looking awkward as ever, clearly not knowing what to do with his hands as he switches between putting them in his pockets and clasping them together.

I turn the key on the lock and try the door, noticing that It's completely pitch black inside the house. My parents usually go to bed at 10 PM, and it was well past that at this point. I lock the door behind us as I reach for my pocket, grabbing my phone and flipping it open to use as a barely-useful flashlight. I take Tyler's wrist as I lead him through the furniture of my living room and up the stairs. The only sounds in the house come from the soft ticking of a clock in the kitchen, the sound of which has always freaked me out whenever I'd come downstairs at three in the morning. Despite my best efforts to be as quiet as possible, the old wooden boards of the stairs prove my effort to be futile as they creak with every step. I can only hope that both of my parents have fallen asleep by now, or else they'd definitely have heard us. As I take Tyler down the hallway, walls strung with various family photos and art fit for a motel, I hear no sounds coming from the master bedroom, relaxing some of my tension.

Once we make it to my room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn on the overhead light, hoping my mom doesn't find out and try to lecture me in the morning, "Okay, hide-a-bed or mine, your choice!"

"Hide-a-bed." He replies.

"Sure thing, lemme show you how to set it up," I say as I remove each couch cushion one by one. The couch is sitting directly under my massive bedroom window, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Under the cushions is a black folded-up contraption, bearing a metal handle. I grab the handle and start pulling the bed out from the couch. As the first section of the bed comes out, Tyler stands next to me and helps unfold the second section, and finally the third.

I move over to open the closet door, "I have some spare pillows and blankets in here."

"So, why do you have a spare bed... thingy... in your room anyway?" He asked.

"My cousins' family came to visit from the other side of the country a few years back, so my parents made the cousins stay in my room and gave me our old couch that used to be in the living room. They were here for like two weeks, it was fucking awful," I remarked, pulling a comforter out of the closet and unfolding it out on the mattress.

"That sounds miserable," Tyler sympathized.

"It was, but hey, now I got a sick as fuck couch in my room! And it works as a great place for certain friends to sleep when they wanna spend the night," I said sarcastically, looking over at Tyler as I grabbed the pillows from the closet, tossing them to one end of the bed.

He turned his head, baffled, "Was that a dig on me?" He questioned.

"Depends on how you took it I suppose," I replied, smiling cunningly.

"You're the one who offered, dude- are you sure you didn't drink at the party? You've at least doubled your usual level of sarcasm." He retorted.

"Nope, unless somebody spiked my soda!" I joked, but the realisation slowly set in, "Oh shit- maybe someone spiked my soda?!?"

"Don't freak out, I seriously doubt someone would spike your drink,"

"God, I hope so, if my parents found out I went to that party, that'd be one thing, but if I got drunk? I doubt I'd see the outside world for months," I sighed.

"Even if you were drunk, it's not like you would still be drunk in the morning for them to find out, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, letting out a yawn shortly thereafter. "Fuck, I didn't realise how tired I am." Looking at my alarm clock, it was 10:37 PM. That wasn't terribly late, I've definitely stayed up later when there was an assignment due the next day that I forgot about, but even before I met up with Alex and Elliot, that party was just wearing me down. "At least I can sleep in 'till like noon tomorrow. You sure you don't need anything before I pass out from exhaustion?"

"No, I'm okay, I think. And, thank you... Jake." He replied, smiling at me.

"No problem, dude!" I quietly exclaimed as I turned off the bedroom lights and hopped into bed. I can practically feel my muscles dissolve as I lean into the mattress, pulling the heavy blankets over me as I close my eyes.

I can't help but feel something itching in the back of my brain. I never did find out why Tyler was even crying back at the party. Was it related to what he told me after? He sounded pretty upset when he was talking to whoever it was in the hallway, too, so maybe that was why? We've already talked about so much shit tonight, though, and I definitely did not have the energy to have another huge conversation about something like that. It could definitely wait until tomorrow.

Soon, I feel my consciousness drift away, the only sound I can make out being the slow breathing of Tyler, across the room.

---

As I wake up, I'm blinded by the bright sun shining in through my windows, directly into my eyes. I glance over at my alarm clock, feeling incredibly groggy and sore, noticing that it's 11:13 AM. Usually, the latest I'd sleep in on weekends was only around ten, but I guess it took a lot of my energy yesterday to try to tune the party out. At least it's over.

I slowly sit up, yawning as I lean back against the bed frame. I glanced around the room, noticing that the hide-a-bed had been folded back into the couch, Tyler nowhere to be seen. I reach over to my bedside table to check my phone, finding an unread text from him, sent a few hours ago.

Tyler: hey

woke up early, figured youd want 2 sleep in.

will call u later, might have somthin big i wanna share, will see

A pair of oddly cryptic messages. Guess that confirms he isn't here anymore.

At least it was a Saturday, meaning that I had full permission to be a slob. I get out of bed, deciding to skip my usual shower until after breakfast. Other than the snacks that were out at the party, I ate practically nothing last night. I could almost feel my stomach turning itself inside out, so I hurried out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

The first thing I notice when I get downstairs is my mom, sitting on the couch with a book. I head straight to the kitchen, trying not to make myself stand out.

"Jake! Finally woken up, I see." She remarked, still looking at her book.

"Hey, mom!" There's a moment of silence as I grab a bowl out of the cupboard, as well as a box of cereal, and begin to pour.

She speaks up, "Your friend, Tyler, seemed to be in a hurry to leave this morning, anything I should know about?"

"...Not that I know of? Like what?" I questioned as I poured some milk from the fridge, grabbed a spoon, and sat at the kitchen counter.

"Well, it's not like we didn't notice that you weren't home by ten like your father asked you to be, so obviously you must have a good excuse for why you didn't at least call to let us know you'd be late?" She replied. I could tell when she started talking all responsible-parent-like, it meant that she was gonna lecture me about something.

I sighed, thinking of the right thing to say. "...Well, Tyler was going through some things... so I was trying to help him with that, I guess. Time just kinda flew by and I wasn't able to get home 'till later."

"So he spent the night here? Weren't you at his house?" She asked as I ate a spoonful of cereal.

"Yeah... we went out for a bit and once I noticed how late it was I offered to let him spend the night at our house since it was closer," I said. Almost entirely a lie, but definitely preferable to the truth.

"Jake..." She said, setting her book down on the coffee table in front of the couch, walking over to me, and resting a hand on my shoulder. "You're sixteen now, obviously we don't expect you to tell us everything you're up to nowadays. But we worry about you! I worry about you. Just for future reference, please let us know if you're gonna be home late or anything like that."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," I said, looking up at her.

"Great! Now, I have to go meet a friend for lunch, please try not to burn the house down while I'm out!" She said as she grabbed her purse and keys off of the counter, hurring out the door.

"No promises, love you!" I said as she closed the door behind her.

Well, I guess that went... better than expected? I doubt she believed that story I made up, but I guess as long as I don't break curfew without telling them, I should be fine.

Having the house to myself wasn't totally uncommon. Considering my dad was gone during the day five days a week, and my mom would head out to go meet friends or run errands pretty often, I got some much needed alone time often enough to not go mad.

As I finish my bowl of cereal, I realise that I probably should go shower as soon as possible, considering the night I had. I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and head back upstairs. I grab a towel from my room and head into the bathroom, grabbing my various fur care products out of the cabinet for after the shower. As I turn the shower on, I hear the sound of my ringtone going off in the pocket of my pants on the floor. I sigh annoyedly, walking over and trying to figure out which pocket my phone was in. When I flip open the phone, the Caller ID reads out Tyler's name.

"Tyler! What's up?" I ask eagerly, hoping to find out what the news he cryptically texted about was.

"Jake- fuck, I messed up, I shouldn't have- what am I gonna do?" He said anxiously, sounding almost out of breath.

"Hey! Slow down, what's wrong?" I questioned.

"I'm such a fucking idiot! Why did I think this would be a good idea? Jake, I'm so sorry-"

"Tyler! Calm. Down. Just take a few deep breaths," I said. After a few moments, I can hear his breathing steadying on the other side of the call. "Okay, good. Now, what's wrong?"

There's a short pause as he tries to find the right words to say. It sounds like he's been crying. What even the fuck has been the past twenty-four hours?

"Can- do you think I could crash at y- your place for a few more nights? I don't know what to do."

[staticscreenwriting]

To the stars beyond the blue - one

Summary: Kathleen Sawyer has a problem with authority and people telling her what to do, especially if “people” is her Stepdad Dave. Having had enough of her attitude, Dave and her mom decide it’s time for her to leave behind the temptations of New York City and learn some responsibility while staying with her aunt Susan in small, sleepy Hawkins, Indiana. Though what neither of them know, is that the biggest temptation is waiting for her right there and it comes with a mullet and a killer smile.

This is gonna be an 18+ series. I’m planning to add quite a bit of smut, swearing and topics that could potentially be triggering to some people (domestic abuse - physical and emotional). The abuse will not be romanticized, I promise you that. Just be aware that these themes will be mentioned and explored. 

next chapter >>

Chapter one - meet Kathleen

Ron’s Deli smells like old grease and cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights send a loud buzzing noise through the entire place. There’s an assortment of sandwiches displayed, though I know better than to order any of them. Coffee, that’s what I’m here for. Coffee and warmth.

My boots, still wet from the snow covering the streets outside, make a squeaking sound against the linoleum floor that alerts Ruby who’s slumped over the counter, flicking through some kind of fashion magazine. 

“ Haven’t seen you in a while “ she murmures, eyes focusing back on the magazine, making no attempt to actually take my order. 

“ Some of us actually work, you know “ I reply. That’s not even close to the truth and Ruby knows this just as well as I do. But neither of us acknowledges it because that’s not the relationship we have. I don’t want to talk about it and she doesn’t care. So we settle for superficial quips. 

“ Bite me, Kathleen. “ 

“ Nah thanks, you know my rules. No food at Ron’s. Just coffee “ 

“ Just coffee “ she repeats then turns around and grabs the pot and pours me a big mug of steaming hot coffee.

“ Thanks. Put it on my tab. “ 

She always nods but never actually does. I don’t think I’ve paid for my coffee in years.

I drag myself towards my booth in the furthest corner of the place. I call it my booth but if we’re being overly correct I have to mention that I do, in fact, not have ownership of this particular booth. It’s just the one I always find myself in. Have done so for years.

The tv mounted up in the corner is playing some black and white christmas movie. The volume is too low to hear anything being said but I can tell the movie after a few seconds. Miracle on 34th street. I remember watching it with my dad when I was a kid. He was always big about old black and white movies. 

I never told him but I don’t really like it. There’s a thing about Christmas movies where even though most of them have happy endings, a lot of them always make you feel miserable for a huge amount of the runtime. It’s like “look at this sad person ON CHRISTMAS. Then remember how lucky you are. Because you too could be sad. ON CHRISTMAS “.

It’s very preachy and if I’m being honest, I don’t see the appeal of movies that purposely make me sad. 

Back then I wasn’t really aware of what it feels like to be sad on Christmas. I do now. It’s like they describe it in the movies only 10 times worse. Because there’s no happy ending waiting for you after 120 minutes. It just goes on and leads to a sad new years and a sad spring and a sad summer.

“ Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind...  “ oh fuck right of, Kris you absolute bullshitter.

The bell above the door pulls me from my Christmas blues and I watch a couple stumble into the shop. They’re smiling, holding hands. The dude can’t seem to keep his lips of her neck. She walks up to the counter. I can only imagine Ruby’s annoyed sigh and the roll of her eyes.

“ Hi, two turkey delis please “ the girl says between giggles. I feel kinda bad for her. She must be a tourist. Locals know not to eat at Ron’s. Only coffee. Iced tea in the summer. That’s it.

Ruby grumbles something to them before they settle down in the booth across from me. Well there goes me sulking in silence. I try to ignore their loved up giggles as the warm coffee makes its way down my throat. I really try not to pay them any attention. But once I notice his hand squeezing her boobs, that’s enough to make even me uncomfortable.

I take one last sip then scoot out of the boot hand walk towards Ruby. She’s resorted from flipping through the magazine to using the magazine as a underlay while she paints her nails right there on the counter. Another reason not to eat here. 

“ So what do you say, do I suit this color ? “ She asks and holds a hand out for me to see. She always paints them red, every single time. Apparently they’re all different shades though so far I’ve been unable to see even the slightest difference.

“ Sure. “ 

“ Thanks for the enthusiasm.” 

“ You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the coffee. “

Ruby looks up again then throws a disapproving look at the couple that is pretty much dry humping each other at this point “ did the lovebirds scare you off ? Disgusting. “ 

“ Let them be, they’re in love. “ 

She scoffs at that then goes back to her nails “ of course you’d think that. You’re just as bad. “ 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ Means I’ve seen you at parties. With guys. It’s uh — quite something really. “ 

“ Ah shut up, Ruby. “ I say and roll my eyes. It’s none of her business really. Though I know it doesn’t come from a place of malice, her words still rub me the wrong way. I have to remind myself that she’s just bitter. She should be married right now, living with her husband in some cute little house in Jersey, popping a few kids and living the suburban dream. Instead he fucked her sister at the rehearsal dinner and she’s left alone, bitter, sad and working at a really shitty deli.

“ Just sayin’ “ 

“ Mmh. Anyway tell your dad I said hi and to call me if he ever feels lonely. “ 

“ You’re vile. “ 

I only smile at that, pull my jacket closer around my body and step into the cold december air.

New York City is always busy. Always. People crowd the streets like ants on a popsicle forgotten on the lawn in a hot summer’s day. Though around christmas time, it feels like twice as many people flock to the city to catch a glimpse of what the perceived to be the ultimate manifestation of christmas magic.

The truth is, it’s cold and loud and crowded and if anything, it’s a perfect reminder just how materialistic we humans really are. If there’s anything to advertise, you’ll get it advertised here. They try to appeal to your innermost romantic. That girl that believes diamonds and flowers are a sign of true love. That kid that still holds faith in santa and miracles.

It makes me a little sick as I pass store after store, bustling with holiday shoppers. 

The further I walk the colder it gets. I tug my beanie further down my head, trying to keep my ears warm as I hop down the steps of the subway station. There’s an older man playing the violin while wearing a santa hat. I toss him a quarter and he gives me a smile and I feel like I’ve just earned a few karma points. Shiny gates, I’m coming for you.

It’s early december and New York is fucking freezing. It’s an all consuming kind of cold. The one you feel seeping through your body all the way to your bones. I wish I could say it goes away once I’m home and snuggled up in my bed. It doesn’t. It’s the kind of cold that stays with you. 

There’s a man eying me as I step on the train, he’s got bushy unkempt eyebrows and a mean mustache. His tongue licks at his bottom lip every few seconds. Like a deranged snake or something, only way creepier. I try to avoid eye contact. Eye contact it seems only works as a silent invitation to guys like him. 

From the corner of my eye I take notice of all his moves though. One has to be prepared always. I grab a hold of my keyes, let them stick out between my knuckles. I don’t know if he notices. I hope he does.

When the train pulls up at my stop, my heart speeds up a little. A silent mantra echoes through my head “please don’t get up. Please don’t get up.” It’s one thing being tough and brave when you’re in a train with many other people. It’s a whole different story when you’re passing through dark, deserted alleyways on your way home.

The trains stops and I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans. He eyes me again as I step up to the doors. I’m still avoiding eye contact but at this point I can tell that he can tell. I can just about make out as his lips pull into a smirk. There’s nothing amusing about this situation, not to me at least. To think that he finds joy in this makes me physically sick.

The doors open and I step outside, a gust of cold wind hitting my face. I turn around and the doors close behind me and, to my delight, I can see him sitting in the same spot, looking at me through the dirty window of the train. He winks as the train pulls away and I can feel my lunch making its way up my throat again.

I can hear them yelling as I unlock the door. Dave’s voice thunders through the place, spewing expletives and hatred. 

“ Jesus Christ, Joan. What is wrong with you? Spending money on shit we don’t need but the one thing, the one thing I asked you to buy, you forget ? Are you really that fucking dumb ? “

My blood starts boiling though I know better than to step in. It only makes it worse.

Mom says sorry. So many times. Too many times. Her voice is timid and small and I hate that this is what he turns her into. When I was little mom was strong and brave and happy. She was creative and fun and adventurous. Now she’s but a shell of herself. An obedient little housewife who settles for a man that treats her like absolute dirt.

They look up at me as I enter the kitchen room and I can see fear in my mom’s eyes. I think that’s the worst thing. To see your mom scared. No kid should have to see their mom this scared. I wish I didn’t. 

“ Hi. “ 

“ Look who’s finally decided to show up. Where’ve you been ? “ Dave scoffs. He thinks just because my mom spreads her legs for him, he gets any say in what I do. Truth is, he doesn’t give a fuck what I do, he’s just a sucker for control. It’s like his ultimate wet dream, to have us do exactly how he says and behave just the way he asks us to. 

“ Out. “ 

“ Out where ? “

“ None of your business. “ 

“ Kathleen “ mom scolds me. I know she has this fantasy of us three living like a perfect family, all happy and joyful. Smiling at each other as we sit around the dinner table talking about our days before we settle on the couch to watch Happy Days.

That’s not reality though. Reality looks pretty bleak right now. Reality is absolute bullshit.

“ I was at the library, okay ? “ 

“ With a boy ? “ 

“ No, what the fuck are you on about. “ 

“ I know the kind of girl you are, Kat. I know girls like you. “ 

Girls like me. 

Dude doesn’t know shit.

“ Sluts “ he spits out. I know he does it to rile me up. He’s just waiting for me to make a mistake so he can put me in my place and assert his dominance. God, he’s such an asshole.

“ Dave ! Don’t call her th— “ mom doesn’t get to finish the sentence before he smacks her across the face, a loud slapping noise echoing through the room. It never gets easier. Watching him hit her. Watching her excuse his actions. Watching them continue as normal.

“ I told you, to shut up, Joan. You know what happened with the boy. The man.“ 

I lock eyes with her, begging her to say something. Do something. End this misery. She has the power to do so. This is our apartment. Out food. Our money. She has all the power in the world and yet, when she averts her eyes, I know it means nothing. 

Dave looks at me again then flops down on the couch, resting his feet on the couch table and clutching a beer in his meaty slob of a hand.

“ Ma, “ I approach her, wanting to comfort her. This is my mother and despite her flaws and issues, I love her. Sometimes I wonder if she returns the sentiment. 

“ I’m okay. “ 

“ But you’re not!” 

“ I said, I am okay. “ the look in her eyes gives me no room to argue. This conversation is over. This topic is over. For now. 

Because those things are never really over, are they ? 

I take a can of coke from the fridge then sit down on the bench by the window. The snow is softly falling outside and if I didn’t despise the cold so much, I’d even call it pretty. It’s a huge contrast to how things are inside right now. Snow falls slowly, piecefully. My mind is chaos, loud and crowded like Times Square on New Years. 

I try to focus on my book and not on Dave who belches after every gulp of beer or my mom who’s perched on the corner of the couch, close enough for him to feel validated and yet far enough for her own comfort. I hate that this place doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It feels like a prison. Like a cage.

That annoying coke commercial comes on tv and I remember a christmas, many years ago. Dad sits in the recliner, we’re in our old apartment and it’s warm inside. The snow falls softly and the place smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. Mom is happily singing along to the commercial and dad’s placing a kiss on her head and it’s not a very important memory but it means so much to me. Because those christmases were good. 

My eyes wander towards the shelf by the door, the one that holds a lot of things. Those kind of things you don’t know where else to put. There’s a bowl you’re supposed to put keys in, none of us ever do, and a sculpture I made in 4th grade art class. There’s random books and records and a cassette deck that doesn’t work anymore. 

I look the shelf up and down, searching for the one thing in there that means something. The one thing I deliberately placed there because I wanted to see it every time I leave the house.

But it’s gone and my heart shatters.

“ Where’s the picture of dad ? “ 

“ Huh ? “ mom looks up at me. I can see it in her eyes. She heard me just right and she knows where it is.

“ The picture of dad on the shelf. Where is it ? “ 

“ It’s time to move on “ Dave chimed in with his throaty, dark voice. He sounds like he constantly has a meatball stuck in his gullet. It’s fucking disgusting. “ He’s been dead for years now. No use in grieving no more. “ 

Use in greiving ? Does he think we chose to be sad ? Does he really think I can just go and decide not to miss my dad anymore ? Not to be sad anymore ? Not to feel like my heart is bursting into a million little pieces whenever something reminds me of my dad ?

“ What did you do ? “ 

“ Put it where it belongs ?  “ 

I can feel the hot red rage burning inside, behind my eyes, in the tips of my fingers. 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ He’s gone, Kat. Get over it. I live here now and I don’t wanna be reminded of that fact that your ma had another man before me. It don’t matter no more, you’re my family now !” he bellows, getting off his ass and towering over me like a giant sequoia tree.

This man doesn’t know the first thing about being a family. I don’t know a lot about it either but I know this isn’t it.

“ Fuck you, Dave. Dad belongs here ! We’re his family, mom is his wife. You’re just some asshole she keeps around for god knows what reasons. Just a boyfriend, those come and go “.

He’s awfully silent at that. It’s scarier than the yelling and the mean words. Like he’s taking it all in, waiting, building. It’s gonna come crashing down on me in a minute, I just know it.

The snarl disappears and makes room for a smirk so unsettling, it freezes my blood right there in my veins.

“ Is that so ? Tell her Joan. “ 

“ Tell me what ? “ Oh god. Oh god, no.

“ Dave, this is not the ti— “ 

“ Tell her ! “ he yells and mom flinches then turns to me, eyes never once leaving the carpet.

“ Baby, Dave and I we — we decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level.” 

No. 

No.

No.

“ We’re getting married. “

“ No. “ I say, as if my opinion matters to anyone here. “ Mom, you can’t. You can’t do this. Mom “ 

I beg and I plead and I can feel the tears rising, hardly able to keep them at bay. I feel so small, so helpless.

“ We can and we will ! We’ve also talked about you … “ Dave starts and by the satisfied smirk on his face I can tell whatever he’s about to say, I won’t like it.

“ We had a long discussion about you and your behavior. The skipping school, the parties, the boys. It needs to stop. You need to learn some responsibility. Some respect. “ 

“ Mom. “ I try to meet her eyes, try to get her attention. This can’t be happening. 

“ It’s for the best, baby. “ 

“ What is ? “ 

Dave takes over the conversation again. God I wish he would just disappear. Vanish into nothingness. Where he belongs. “ We think the city is no good place for a young woman to grow up. Too many distractions. Too many temptations. How could you ever become a proper wife growing up in this place. “

“ Are you saying you want to send me away ? “ 

Mom looks up at me finally, and I can see the pain in eyes. And for the first time, I am glad. I hope she’s hurting. I hope it rips her heart out. I hope she feels the same pain she did when dad died. Because this, this is on her. This is a conscious choice she makes. For herself. For me. For our family.

I hope it hurts her because it kills me.

“ I uh — I talked to Susan. You remember her, right ? My half-sister. She uh — she lives in this cute little town in Indiana. Lots of nature. It’s very picturesque she says. They have a house there, she and her husband and the kids. Her step son is your age. I think — I think It’d do you some good. Susan says he’s calmed down his temper since they moved. Maybe it will work for you. “ 

I want to say so much. I want to scream and cry and throw a tantrum but the pain I feel numbs me to my bones. It’s like all energy is sucked right out of me. I’m too exhausted to react. Too exhausted to fight back.

So I do what I do best. I run. Take my keys, my jacket, my bag. And I run out into the night. The snow. The cold.

Whatever is out there isn’t half as harsh as what’s waiting for me in this place.

I know I have to go back eventually but for now I need to get out and save myself from drowning in my own despair. In the picture of a family that is no family at all and the memories of what used to be.

As I walk down the street I pass a park. There’s a concert going on. A choir sings “ Have yourself a merry little christmas”.

I want to throw up. I do throw up, in the bin by the park bench. 

Merry fucking christmas, Kathleen. I’m sure it’ll be a great one.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight”

Absolute bullshit, my dudes. Absolute bullshit.

[feitanswife]

Big long rant about what makes a good rival in Pokémon, subtext, plots that show rather than tell, character-focused narratives, and how much I FUCKING HATE ROSE

So seeing as I unceremoniously decided to design a Pokémon game as aneans of venting my anger at how tumblr discourse stole all the confidence I ever had, I’ve been researching what it is people like in a Pokémon game.

And I’ve realized something.

When it comes to rivals, SwSh accomplished what X and Y tried and failed to do.

Everyone says X and Y have terrible rivals, the worst in the series, and they’re pretty much right. But I could never bring myself to dislike the set up. It had good ideas

Good ideas that SwSh accomplished thoroughly.

The set up is something we only see in those two games: a large group of rivals, each with a different goal and personality. Some are nicer, some are more competitive, some don’t seem to care about the main point of the game much at all.

That SwSh did well was make each one of them still involved in being a trainer. Where X and Y failed was in making the rivals goals too varied, only one of them even cared about getting badges!

But in SwSh, everyone cared about getting badges and becoming stronger for different reasons

You want to dethrone Leon, beating a trainer who has never been beaten.

Hop is standing in his brother’s shadow and wants to beat him to gain the approval of those around him, (especially his family who don’t even have any pictures of Hop on the wall or anything)

Marnie wants to help her hometown and her family who are suffering from neglect by the government.

Bede wants the approval of Rose, his adoptive father who doesn’t give a shit about him .

All of these characters have different personalities, interests, motivations, and end goals, but they all are competing for the same title as a means to accomplish those separate goals.

The goal is not to be the champion, becoming the champion is a means to accomplish your goals.

Also, notably two characters have VERY similar goals, those being Hop and Bede, both seeking validation and approval, but their personalities are so different that you almost don’t notice how much their characters parallel.

That’s something about SwSh I really liked actually, the reliance on subtext. In a shocking irony, the first Pokémon game with any form of free camera, relies on a very narrow narrative view. You miss most of the “plot” But that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.

No one tells you that Hop is the least favored child, that he’s constantly being compared to Leon and crushing under the weight of it. But Hop’s entire personality is built on being a people pleaser, of idolizing his brother, of being better because he’s Leon’s brother so he has to be. He’s clingy, so fucking clingy. Almost like he’s scared you’re going to leave him. His facade is shattered by one insult from Bede. His arc is told through his battles, constantly switching out his team, even replacing his first ever Pokémon, his Wooloo, for a few battles.

Rose forgets his adopted sons name who the fuck does that????? Bede has a Rolex but no father figure. Oleana sure as fuck doesn’t care about the kid, she doesn’t care about anything but her man (who walks around in public dressed like he got dressed in a dark dumpster btw)

And more on Rose, can we talk about how much the tower and Leon’s place in it means??? Like the whole game Leon is never seen wearing ANYTHING but his uniform, which is ugly as sin. That was on purpose. That isn’t really Leon’s outfit. That’s the outfit he’s forced to wear by the league. Once he’s no longer champion and out from under Rose’s thumb? He gets to dress however he wants, and his new outfit rally FEELS like Leon, it’s extravagant, it’s kinda funny, he keeps the hat but wears a suit, and it’s unabashedly HIS. He got a huge glow up in post game because he finally had the chance to be himself! Same with Bede!

Rose is toxic. There, I said it. Your MCM is fucking toxic and fucks up all his interpersonal relationships whether he knows it or not, he canonically cannot prioritize for shit, he was more worried about something thousands of years in the future than the thing happening the next day, and Oleana was a fucking enabler full stop.

The Galar region runs on Dynamax to the point where their biggest power plant is also a stadium. Very little is known about Dynamaxing other than one time it happened everywhere and was apocalyptic. Yet the entire region depends on it.

Who speaks out about how batshit this is? Piers. Whose town is in shambles, completely neglected by Rose, the de facto political leader of the region? Piers. Rose was willing to abandon a whole city because their gym leader didn’t fucking like Dynamaxing.

Leon not having any sense of direction is A FUCKING METAPHOR FOR HOW HE HASNT EVER HAD CONTROL OVER HIS LIFE BECAUSE HE WAS DEPENDANT ON ROSE’S SPONSORSHIP AND THUS HAS NO EXPERIENCE IN DIRECTING HIMSELF

The sponsorship mechanic is just as skeevy in Pokémon as it is irl! Just saying! You want to keep your spot? Better do everything the advertisers want cause they own your soul now!

The fact that you don’t know what exactly happened when Leon and Sonia ran off to fix shit, that doesn’t matter. That’s not the point! The plot was never about fighting through hoarded of grunts while an evil team leader laughs maniacally in the distance! We’re not in gen 1 anymore! We have actual narratives now!

Because SwSh is not the story of how Rose tried to fix an energy crisis by summoning ancient gods and causing an apocalypse. We had a few of those already!

If you want ducky psuedoscience masquerading as environmentalism might I direct you to gen 3?

Oh if you want batshit depressed scientists with enough money to make it everyone else’s problem too, gen 4 and gen 6 did that.

Want a generic bad guy who just turns out to be a punching bag for the player with very little proper motivation? There’s been like 10 Kanto games I’m sure you’ll get your Giovanni fix somewhere.

SwSh is the story of how selfishness, misplaced priorities, and enabling others toxic behavior will fuck up everyone around you.

Leon has no direction because he’s been a puppet since the day he let Rose sponsor him

Bede has no confidence because the closest thing he had to a family neglected him

Hop has no goal outside of Leon because he’s never been allowed to be anything but Leon’s little brother

Marnie has to take on all the responsibility for Spikemuth because her brother has lost his influence after falling out of Rose’s favor

Tl:Dr

the only reason people say SwSh has no story is because they literally have no idea what the word subtext means, didn’t bother to pay attention to the relationships between the characters, and wanted a stereotypical Fight The Evil Team plot so they can make Rose into one of their Big Baddie Daddies™️ when in reality he’s just a petulant man child who should have never been put in charge of anything, had absolute power over the region, and traumatized a bunch of children FOR LITERALLY NO FUCKING REASON

Maybe if you didn’t cheat your way through highschool English it would make sense you half-baked reddit-crawling dorito gremlins

[blackgirlblues]

Being A Black Girl: And Chasing Your Dreams.. Yikes.

Hi, 

It’s me, your resident black girl back with some new shit to rant about. I’ve been posting a few screenshots of short poems and paragraphs I’ve been writing on my phone as a way to heal and get over Capricorn boy from my last post on here and I see you guys like and reblog. Thank you for showing love, although it makes me sad that so many of you seem to be going through the same range of emotions I am. I’m sorry. 

I know it’s a lonely place to be in. 

But, on the bright side, I’ve got a lot of new followers joining the diary/manual/rant page that is blackgirlology and it’s nice cause I think it’s becoming a little bit of a community. So, in a way, were never really going through any of these emotions alone. If you’ve found this page-you’re part of a community. Bask in it. 

Anyways, that aside, a lot has happened since I last spoke to you. I don’t know if any of you may remember, and for some new people this will be a surprise. But I’m actually a singer songwriter from Ireland. Moved to London a year and a half ago to pursue my music dream and that’s how I met Capricorn boy whos been the source of all my poems. 

Throughout this time in between, I’ve been trying to chase my dreams, and chase them relentlessly. and this summer i did just that, let me tell you, what im about to tell you guys, is to put it simply, wild. I’ll just cut to the chase. 

It all started in July. I’d been in London for quite a long time now, over a year and now have a manager who’s my best friend first and foremost. We’ll call her Maya. I met her in my first week of moving to London in the student halls I was staying at and we became best friends pretty quick. She studies music business, so it made sense and she just naturally ended up taking up the role as my music manager. Shes seen everything. The songs I wrote about Capricorn boy, the tears, everything. And she saw everything this summer. 

I saw an ad for a record label opportunity in London. It was advertised on my university facebook page; a new indie label, looking for demo submissions for a competition they were setting up to find their new signee. I sent a screenshot to Maya who agreed I should send my stuff in. I did, they liked it, I got a meeting, we were sent terms and conditions for the competition. We signed it, the rest was supposed to be history. 

Big yikes. 

There’s so many layers to this story that I will be shortening it, just because it can get very draining for me to talk about or even write about. I’ve healed from it i think, but I still want to put it here and write it about to finally close that chapter and be done with my feelings about what happened to me and my music. 

Basically, the whole competition, the record label, the dickhead CEO, it was all a scam. I had accidentally signed away the master rights to my new song to a record label started by a fake CEO who was committing fraud and known for tricking young artists into handing over their master rights so he could profit off of them, for power. 

It was a mess. Another contestant told me and Maya when we were outside of their office. Just minutes before we were under the impression that I was doing an interview for Billboard Magazine. Honestly, I never truly believed it. Shit was too good to be true. 

But she told us everything. How he was actually a run away from Spain, where he was caught and exposed for doing the exact same thing to artists there, how he didn’t have any money to fund the competition he had somehow roped all of us into, how he was illegally avoiding paying his team, how none of the creatives we had collaborated with for photoshoots etc were paid, how everything was a lie, how he didnt have any connections, and how he was trying to convince me specifically to sign a 360 deal with his label. 

Which, guys, I’m not stupid. After the first week of being with the label for the competition and letting my song live through their disastrous marketing campaign, Maya and I long decided that regardless of what they said, I would not under any circumstances be signing anything with any entity of their company. 

After being told the truth, I had to sit down. You see, when I came across this opportunity, I thought this was finally the life I’d been manifesting coming true. I had begun to grow in my spirituality and start journaling, writing down my manifestations, and getting to work with a record label who would later offer me a fair contract before I turn 20 was one of the manifestations I had written down every night before I went to bed. However, what I’d gotten was the exact opposite. 

I remember, me, Maya, and 2 of the girls from the competition all stood around in a circle outside of their new office that the CEO also hadnt paid for wondering what our next move would be with this new information. There was still 2 other contestants inside who had no idea what was really going on was an elaborate scam. One of them wanted to go in and expose them on the spot. I said no, we had to go in and pretend like everything was normal until we figured out what to do afterwards. 

So in I went, plastering the fakest smile on my face and pretended like I still thought I was about to be speaking with Billboard Magazine. Once I got out, I broke down in Maya’s arms. 

I went home to my flatmates, Ellie and Bea and cried for hours before I had to go work a 7 hour shift at a pizza place. 

I stayed in bed, and cried, and cried. and cried again. I didn’t get out of bed unless I needed too. The only people I talked too were my flatmates E and B and Maya. 

Everything was sorted out eventually, a lot more happened, but as I’ve been writing this article for you guys, I realised that all of that stuff is no longer relevant to my journey and isnt something I want to bring back into my energetic circle because I’ve made peace with the fact that a lot of people who betrayed me when I was at my lowest, peace with the fact that these contestants who wanted to “work together” to get out of this mess, actually wanted to save their own asses and leave me in the cold. 

But I still got out of it and I’m still here. 

I nearly got sued by a man with less than 20 pound to his company account online, but hey, I’m here.

I guess why I’m telling you guys this really short account of my summer is to both record it for myself but also to say its okay to flop, its okay to fail. I did both this summer. and thank god i did. it was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

following your dreams is scary, doing it as a black girl is terrifying because society has already kind of set you up to fail. there’s already misconceptions about what you do, who you are, where you come from and how good you’re going to be at what you do. its almost like we cant fail and we need to work 10 times harder to obtain half of what the average white person will get. and sometimes it can feel like we dont have any space to fail or make mistakes because of this but let me tell you thats not true. 

if anything, the universe will put you in places that will force you to grow through the mistakes you make. and thats exactly what happened to me this summer. 

i chased my dream so relentlessly i ended up in an environment i thought i manifested, i thought was good for me, only for the universe to show me that that specific environment i’d been wishing to be in is the furthest from what i need right now in my life. 

this so called failure showed me that not everybody who smiles can be trusted, and that people can be way more deceiving than i ever thought, especially when push comes to shove and they need to save themselves. you start to see the real them when it starts to get tense. the people who seem to be around you when you’re doing good will most likely dissapear when things start to go south, including some of your oldest friends. you will get radio silence on their end. be upset. cry. but after that be glad that this situation revealed their true colours. 

and then never put any more energy into them again. 

this failure showed me how fucking strong i am. how resilient and kind i am even in the face of disrespect and actual evil. it showed me how much i can care for someone who i believe is at a risk of losing it all, and showed me that this will not always be reciprocated. and for a while i thought that meant that i had to harden myself up and grow a shell. but i dont think so. i will not allow the things ive been through to make me into a hard person when i was born soft. i mean now, im a little rough around the edges, jagged enough to cut anyone who comes too close with some of that bad energy, but soft enough to hold myself tight and glue myself back together when i need to. soft enough to hold the people who held me this summer. soft enough to help people who i know deserve it. 

im a good person in a shitty world, i don’t need to match the world and become a shitty person to survive. 

after all of this happened, i stopped writing music. 

i haven’t written anything properly or produced anything in months and sometimes i get worried that ive completely lost my talent. but thats another thing that this failure taught me, i can never truly lose whats meant to be mine. i know that i was put on this earth to create change, to inspire, to be an activist and a voice for people who dont have one. i know i was put here to do it through a creative medium and right now i still think that is music. 

i think i just need to stop being so scared to start again, to learn my craft again.

i used to be so scared of failure but now i am so thankful for it and the lessons its taught me. i had so much hurt and pain and hatred in my heart for the universe for, in my head, doing this to me. but then i realised that the universe never does anything to you, it does it for you. all of this happened in my best interest and while i definitely didnt understand at the time, i get it now.

thank you universe for the worst summer of my life. 

and my black ass will be continuing to chase my dreams relentlessly, failing, tripping and falling on my ass until i get to the very top. 

besides, if everything had just gone right, that wouldnt have been very interesting, would it?

[thaumaturtles]

Begin ANGELQUEST

The other day, I was doing some.......

...... studying.......

When I came across an advertisement. This isn’t at all an unusual experience; I’ve been on the internet for a decade and change and I’ve come to accept that ads are a part of the experience. This was an ad I’d seen many times before, too. I’m so accustomed to seeing it that my eyes often skip right over it. However, I’ve been reading a lot of articles about Enlightenment, lately, and I’ve been trying to put that into practice in my everyday life. I’ve been attempting, to varying degrees of success, to become more aware of myself and my environment, to probe onward into my mind’s own blind spots. In short, I’m trying to blitz my chakras. (Don’t worry, am Indian, can reclaim.)

And so, for perhaps the first time, I took a moment to truly see the ad in front of me. To stop and smell the dogshit hiding behind the roses. And, goodness, was it a sight to behold. Ladies, gentlemen, and all who fall betwixt, I present to you, THIS:

Take a moment, if necessary, to take it all in.

Have you collected yourself? Good. You’re holding up the rest of the class.

I don’t know how I’ve managed to let this pass without mental comment on more than one occasion. How did I look at this image, think “angel reading? yeah, sure, that’s a thing that exists” and then shuffle along? The only explanation I can muster is Divine intervention, which would ironically lend this product some legitimacy. I need to understand. What does Angel Reading mean? How could such a process be personalized, and, furthermore, how could it take place over the Internet? Who is this “Celeste”? What is she after? Why does she look vaguely disappointed in me? Can she see my soul? What is an “Angelic Medium”?????

Clearly, if I want answers, I’m going to have to dive in. I place my Crocodile Dundee hat on my head with no small measure of trepidation, though I must confess a moiety of excitement deep within. As I hike up my Adventurin’ Shorts and stuff a few hundred metres of rope into my backpack, I consider the long road ahead. And then, with my cosplay explorer’s outfit put on to my approval, I sit down at my computer. I’m really not sure why I felt the need to do all that when I’m just gonna be here at home.

I steel my will, and I click.

This loading screen appears, and I’d like to mention that the URL for this page is perhaps longer than any URL I’ve ever seen before in my 16 years.

Okay, let’s just take a moment to get our bearings here and-

HOLY MACKEREL, THERE’S A COUNTDOWN!

And only twenty-seven minutes left! Sakes alive, I clicked this link just in time! Imagine If I’d wasted more time farting around and dressing up like Indiana Jones!

Although, weirdly enough, whenever I refresh the page, the timer restarts, and it always restarts at 27 minutes and 50ish seconds, which is a random-enough number to seem legitimate.

Hmm. Odd.

I wonder if maybe the countdown isn’t actually real and is just there to pressure you into typing your info more quickly so you don’t notice how fishy this whole opera-

OH MY GOD ONLY 26 MINUTES!!!!!!!

OK, gotta think quickly here. Gosh, they’re asking some personal questions right off the bat, but I can’t let them know it’s me; they might recognize me from tumblr. If this sting operation’s gonna go forth I gotta lie my ass off. My name? Uh, uh.. My name is Dyl-Dy- Uhhhh, shit, okay, it’s Dylan-NO, Dylllllllll...... Delilah? Delilah. Like from the Bible. Yeah, that’s fitting, especially since I’m swindling these fools. Soon, Celeste, your hair will be mine.

They’re asking for my date of birth, which I’m hesitant to put because my 16th birthday party was kind of a big deal and Celeste might’ve heard about it, in which case she’ll know it’s me AND things will be super awkward cause I didn’t invite her to the party.

I put 4/13/1969 obviously

They’re also asking for my e-mail address, which I can’t give out because it has my full name, address, and social security number in it, so let’s just pull this ripcord real quick and parachute out of this nightmare zone, and over to a quick, free, secure e-mail client. That is, protonmail.com, which is not my usual e-mail server and will thus throw Celeste’s goons even farther off my trail

Wow, that was a surprisingly quick and painless process! I might just have to use protonmail in the future

So anyway here’s my info, sent in right under the wire, with a mere 24.3 minutes left! God that was close. Picture that classic scene in Indiana Jones where he slides under the door and then reaches back in to get his hat, only it’s an out-of-shape teen and also the door hasn’t even started closing yet.

I went with my actual country because, c’mon, there’re a lot of people in Jamaica. Statistically speaking, how likely is it they’d find me through that?

You know I didn’t. You know I fucking didn’t. Why are you asking.

Also, here’s a quick rundown of what Celeste is actually offering in case anyone was curious. It does somewhat tickle me that she claims she’ll “get to work immediately” as soon as anyone clicks the link and subscribes, as though the process isn’t completely automated. It evokes a clear image of Celeste, in full angelic garb, sitting at a computer screen and answering calls while also typing into three discrete keyboards simultaneously.

The idea that she could personally take the order of every individual who clicks this ad betrays either a complete lack of confidence in the desirability of her product, or an incredible amount of confidence in her own ability to multitask.

Who is “she”? Celeste? That doesn’t make much sense in the context here. Peter’s Guardian Angel? But earlier Celeste made it sound like all angels use he/him! Also, what does “bring her back” mean if it’s the angel? Can angels leave and later be found again? I feel like if you find your guardian angel once, that should be it forever, but apparently they can leave and you have to ensnare them again?????

Hooray! A link from an unknown source to an unknown destination! I sure can’t wait to click it all day long!

The things I do in the name of science, I swear to God Celeste.

It took a minute but here it is. Sidenote: I rather enjoy the irony of an inbox which consists of three e-mails about encryption and ways to curate a safe internet experience, and one which is an automated link from a bullshit ad for a product that doesn’t exist. There’s a subtle poetry to this image. I almost want to frame it, and then sell it for an exorbitant amount of money.

Here’s the e-mail, folx. If ever you needed proof that this was a scam, look no further.

Who on this good green earth would think beginning such a missive with, “Thank you for your trust,” would be a good way to garner MORE goodwill? When I go to my local grocer and I purchase a party-sized bag of Tostitos to eat by myself over the course of a day and a half because I’m in control of my body, goddammit, the bag doesn’t say, “Thank you for believing in us! We promise we won’t give you dysentery!

Like, what the fuck? “Thank you for your trust.” Your product should be able to stand on its own two feet and proudly proclaim, “I’m gonna give you a fucking angel reading or die trying!”

That initial line has honestly made me more scared than ever for this process. I’m confident I’m going to click that link and it’s going to auto-download a terabyte of obscure Norwegian pornography to my hard drive. I did just update my computer this morning, however, and all my data are backed up, so I feel somewhat more secure than I might otherwise.

Did I really just say “data are”? I know it’s grammatically correct and all, but it’s still jarring to hear. Messes with my mental flow. And wouldn’t the proper, descriptivist thing to do be to use “data is” to avoid confusion? Using “data are” feels clunky, is more difficult to say, and makes me look a bit snobbish. I’d delete it but that would require hitting the backspace button on my computer and I’m frankly quite lazy about that sort of thing. What was I talking about again? Oh, right. I have to click the link.

 Again with the “thank you for your trust” bullshit! Whatever, I’m going to let it pass. They’re clearly going for a friendly, approachable persona here, even if they’re doing it in the most threatening, ass-backwards way possible.

This next email took a seemingly endless eight minutes to arrive, during which time I meditated, raised a bonsai tree to adulthood, watched Marley & Me, grappled with intense feelings of loneliness, and worked on some of my homework.

Or maybe I just played games on my phone. You decide!

Okay, not quite what “hereby” means, but sure. It’s a common mistake, likely exacerbated by the presence of the word “here” within “hereby.” Sort of a “wherefore does not mean where” situation I suppose.

Anyway, I’m submitting to the mortifying ordeal of clicking the link yet again.

Christ get a load of this shit. How fitting that the Angelic stone for someone born on 4/13 would be Jade. My archangel is Megatron apparently??? His info claims he’s some sort of scribe. My major planet is Neptune, and my secondary planet is.... the sun? Is anyone going to tell Celeste what stars are or do I have to do everything myself around here? I do like that ram up in the top left though. I’m naming you Ram Elliot.

Now for the pièce de résistance. Meet Mahasiah. Mahasiah is not my guardian angel; Mahasiah is the guardian angel for anyone born between April 10th-14th. My guardian angel is Yerathel, apparently. A few things I learned while researching this: both Mahasia and Yerathel have “feminine energies” (???) and both have Fire as their associated classical element. Also, Yerathel rules over Intelligence, which is one thing I actually somewhat like about myself. This is actually kind of neat to learn about!

I mean come on. That’s pretty fuckin cool. His name means “He Who Punishes Evildoers” which is beyond epic, and his associated gem is Smoky Quartz, aka the only Steven Universe character.

You know, maybe this whole Angel Reading business isn’t a scam after all. Maybe it’s a perfectly safe process and I’ll be totally fine, what am I worrying about? At the very least, it couldn’t hurt to explore her site a bit more..... for research’s sake.

yeah baby tell me more

h-

certainly, miss celeste, anything for you

wait, aren’t I already in a relationshi-

JAZZERCISING JUNIPERS BATMAN THERE’S ONLY 28 MINUTES LEFT

holy shit! I want accurate readings!

Oh god oh no okay i’ll do whatever you want celeste please don’t leave me i need my tarots

THEY KNOW ABOUT ME ALREADY OMG

Well, okay, even in my currently addled state I can still see that “Duo-Telepathy” is complete bullshi-

OH WELL IF AMANDA GAVE THEM THREE WHOLE STARS I HAVE TO TRUST IT

Amazingly, my info was pre-filled in. Almost like this site is linked to Celeste’s in some way, or perhaps even run by the same group of scammeUPSTANDING CITIZENS IS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY

Ooh, another e-transmission from my good friend Celeste! Oh, how I’ve missed her! And apparently large and surprising discoveries have been made concerning me! She’s presenting me a Guide? I sure hope I’ll be able to open it, hassle-free, with no additional purchases/information required!

OHOHOHOHO

bro i’m shitting my drawers rn

I have no fucking clue what that means but you said FREE so i’m in!

oh my god there’s still so much left. just shut the fuck up and take my money you fools

AW TITS YEAH

....i think

Okay, I know the original thing said FREE and I should be “mad” or watever, but look at that bargain! that’s more than half off! It might as well be free! I’d be stupid NOT to buy it!

I’ve invented a lot of secondary information for Delilah. The phone number is merely (559) YOU-SUCK, as a subtle way of establishing the power dynamic at play here. I’m sure Celeste will appreciate it.

Hmmmmm.............. It would seem my method of “just input numbers randomly” won’t work here. Such a shame. Credit card fraud used to be so easy. I’ll have to put that on the backburner, though, because look what just appeared in my inbox!

You can see where this is going.

I’ll take my leave now, this post is getting long enough as is, but I do feel it’s important to note that doing a quick bit of research shows that Celeste & co. are famous for emotional manipulation, as well as getting people addicted to their products and forcing a sort of dependency upon them. It’s important to do your research, and remember basic internet safety tips like don’t click popups or check if a site is legit before downloading from them. It’s incredibly easy to get trapped down this sort of rabbit hole, where you wind up buying more and more of their products like you’re stockpiling for the Rapture. Not me, though, I’m obviously fine and can quit anytime I like. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go try a bunch of credit card numbers until one works.

[rawliverandcigarettes]

Hey so it’s been a while! Have some news and timeline for Halfway Home! I’ll cc everything under the cut in case you don’t want to run across the internet to read it.

Have a great day!

So we passed the 23rd of June, and now here we go again.

[vague content warning around vague mentions of mental health and poverty]

Hello people from the internet.

I hope you are all alright during this suffocating summer. Personally I’m alright, besides recovering from a generalized infection that makes it hard to eat and dealing with the ridiculousness of the sun peaking up at 3AM.

For some of you who have been following me for a while, you might recollect that I’ve been screeching about my fanfiction project Halfway Home for a decent chunk of time, and yet, years later, there is still no text to be found under the sun (especially the 3AM one).

Today I wanted to recap a little bit why is that, what’s going on with a project, and give some sort of scalable timeline to lay out my schedule, what I’ve been doing so far and where I’m at with it all.

From the start of 2019 to this part of late june, I’ve been digging back into Halfway Home on my free time. After a first reread of the draft 1 in 2018 and declaring it Honest Crap, I realized this story was all over the place and needed to be resharpened before thinking of diving into a draft 2, or I would hit the exact same problems until the end of time. So I spent those last six months re-outlining the entire story. I had two rounds of reviews from friends, and while I’m still not satisfied about 100% of the things (damn you chapter 1) and being unable to stop making changes because no but look this is so much better, I promise that’s the last one, this one really doesn’t count anyway it’s a small one and other similar excuses, I realized that this story needs to be stopped. The 23rd of June was my deadline before locking this outline. Of course more changes will happen in revision and edits, but this outline is the one I’ll follow while drafting.

And now I’m officially in draft 2 territory.

I am honestly scared. I feel like I forgot how to write, and given the added complexities to Shlee’s character, I’m afraid I’ll mess up his voice. I allowed myself not to start at chapter 1 given how much I loathe it in all its 8 forms, but now I don’t know exactly where to start either.

From a chaotic structure of plot points that need to be mentioned, I need to recreate a world of details and nuances and just… life. This is a matter of jumping in the pool, except the pool has been left to cool for almost two years. But still, the jump needs to be made.

So here’s my timeline, that I announce to Thee, Internet, so now I can’t hide behind my own private plannings if I don’t deliver.

By the end of 2019, I want the draft 2 to be completed.

Not reviewed or finalized, but readable from start to finish. It won’t be as long than the draft 1 was, because I know exactly where I’m heading and the revisions tackled down 7 chapters plus the prologue and epilogue from the first draft, and I expect each chapter to be less meandering and needlessly long.

So what that means is that Halfway Home is out in 2020.

This is my final deadline for this part, and I intend to hold it for numerous reasons. The main dumb one is that I have other projects; namely the other parts of the Halfway Home trilogy –that shouldn’t take nearly as long given I have them almost already outlined, at least the next one in line–, but also a Real Book(TM) that I would really love to try and traditionally publish). I also miss making my own indie games, and I’d love to do that more.

But the real reason is I fear the loss of authenticity. The feelings that pushed Halfway Home to be were not pretty ones; they came from a place of isolation, of pain, of material need. And the thing is, right now I’m doing damn well for myself. I have never been more comfortable in my life, though the health/mental health are still a bit shaky and will probably remain as such. But it is so easy to forget the humiliation of a system that punishes you for being poor, and everything that comes with it –the choices that need to be made, the fear of your direct environment, the loneliness of being the crazy one in public transportation, the vulnerability, the crushing need to make it all stop. Even then I never had it «that» bad, if we’re making «that» a contest, but being young and poor and a little bit fucked up is a thing I’m afraid a privileged adult mind slowly but certainly forgets. And I want Halfway Home to be out there before that. Also as a reminder, for me.

I’m still very much on the fence about the way to let Halfway Home out in the world. Part of me wants the beautiful bombastic release plan that I would do for a novel, with pretty drawings and banners and a very serious plan for content release, because hell, I’ve been working on that stuff for so long, might as well do it right. Another part of me thinks of something more discreet, more hushed, less advertised. I’m morally more comfortable with the latter, and I also dare to dream this increases the chance of the absolutely incredibly qualitative investment « The Leftovers » generated –few people, who know why they are here (I love you all so much people that interacted with this fic, seriously I cannot stress that enough). Also it would be dishonest of me not to mention I’d rather not deal with some parts of the fandom regarding the very actively political nature of the story (for example, both turian and human culture being very criticized for their militarism, but also the main character being underage and doing sex work for some part of the story, etc).

So I don’t know! In fact I’d love to know what you think!

So yeah. I have a draft 2 to tackle down (and a Citadel Fashion Weeks to prepare for as well).

Have a great day Internet.

[jinterlude]

Two Faced (Ch.7)

↳ gif header is made by © @softjeon. Please don’t try and steal it and make it your own.

➵ Pairing(s): Gang!Jungkook x Female!OC & Gang!Mark Lee x Female!OC x Gang!Seokjin

➵ Genre(s):  College!AU, Mafia/Gang!AU, Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Love Triangle & Slight-Fluff

➵ Warning(s): N/A

➵ Words: 4.7K

➵ Co-writer: @softjeon

➵ Summary: Two girls. Two gangs. One craved absolute control over the city of Seoul. While, the other simply craved sleep and good grades. Now, what do these two ladies have in common? Simple. They have nothing in common—or so they think. Everyone knows the saying, “never judge a book by its cover”, so maybe there is something more to these two than meets the eye…especially when one of them is suddenly thrown into the underground life. Loyalties will be tested. Romance will blossom. Yup. Sounds like an average college day…

  « Previously | Next Time »

Chapter 7 - Promise Me

It had been weeks since Sumin received that beautiful crystal vase of roses. Since then, there hadn’t been any signs of those luxurious gifts stopping anytime soon. Quite frankly, it annoyed Sowon to no end as their dorm room turned into a storage closet for Sumin’s presents. She knew that Seokjin had money to burn and how incredibly smitten he had become when it came to Sumin, but the gang leader didn’t realize that he would seriously waste thousands of dollars of gifts for her precious little roomie.

If anything, Sowon would think that Seokjin would spend a decent amount of dinner and then use his interesting charms on the girl. Yet, at the same time, he wasn’t luring an innocent little lamb into his clutches. So, his usual tactics wouldn’t even remotely cut it.

God… the more Sowon thought about a possible explanation as to why the eldest member of her little gang of misfits bought gift after gift for Sumin, the more her migraine grew worse…

A long, tired sigh escaped her lips as the exhausted older woman nestled her head into her arms. Why did she come to her morning class? Oh...that’s right...Sumin used her brainy side and made an excellent point about protecting her.

“What better way to make sure that I’m safe than for you to sit right next to me in the class that the both of us are currently enrolled in…” Sumin’s words echoed throughout her tired mind.

It was safe to say that the gang leader understood the fact that Sumin would make an excellent lawyer…

“Wake me up when lecture is over…” Sowon mumbled, closing her eyes and finding a comfortable position.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sumin saw her roommate falling asleep—and they sat front and center of the lecture hall.

Her mouth parted just a bit as she was in total disbelief that Sowon had the guts to fall asleep right in front of the professor. But she soon remembered that this was Sowon, A.K.A the leader of one of the infamous gangs in Seoul, so she took her immediate thought back. Instead, she replaced it with a fun game of how soon would their professor scold her for falling asleep.

“I think the professor will do that for me, Sowon…” Sumin whispered, turning the pages of her notebook in search of a blank page.

Only a few minutes later, exactly that happened—but much to Sumin disappointment, Sowon didn’t even look half as scared as she would be if the Professor would wake her up and embarrass her in the middle of a lecture. Instead, the leader just simply answered each and every question the professor had about the ongoing topic making everyone stunned about where Sowon had gotten her knowledge from out of a sudden.

She didn’t even blush. Sumin scoffed. She would have really wanted for someone to whoop Sowon’s ass, but apparently there was not much that could shake her confident aura. While she was still staring in disbelief at her roommate, when they both sat down for lunch, Sowon simply laughed at her cute expression.

“You talk in your sleep,” Sowon shrugged her shoulders, “And you repeat every fucking law there is...and some might say...that I’m pretty smart myself.” She winked at her flustered roommate. “I know this must be a surprise for some...but,” She took a sip from her coffee, a smirk appearing on her lips, “But I didn’t threaten or blackmail anyone to get into this university.”

And there it was again. There she thought she knew almost everything by now, the gang leader was surprising her with another info about herself that made Sumin speechless. How many secrets did the gang leader carry around with herself?

“C’mon, sunshine,” Sowon said and shook Sumin out of her stupor, “We got one more lecture and then I want to get rid of those stupid withered flowers of yours. And those stupid packages. Oh, and Jungkook will get you after work today.”

Sumin made a face, “Does he have to? I mean the last time he did, he ended up scaring off a few customers…And the coffee shop doesn’t even close until 8:30 P.M.!” She complained, raising her tone just a bit but not enough to disrupt the lecture.

Sowon perked her brow up, feeling a bit intrigued that her husband would do such a thing. Though, she wouldn’t put it passed him to do so.

An airy chuckle escaped her lips as she then asked her cute little roomie to explain that.

Sumin sighed, quickly jotting down any important information before setting down her pen.

“Okay. Fine…” She began, recalling that rather interesting yet intense night…

Smiling sweetly at the customers, Sumin, with her hair neatly tied in a ponytail, greeted the customer and kindly asked what the person would like.

A slim, tall female pursed her lips as her eyes scanned the menu. All the drink choices looked and sounded yummy! How could she simply choose one?

After thinking about which drink suited her current mood, the petite female gave up and asked Sumin what she’d recommend for this Autumn season.

“Oh! Hm...that’s a tough one since I have more than one personal favorite of mine.” Sumin looked behind, glancing at the menu, “Though, since it is a bit chilly tonight, I recommend our apple cinnamon latte! It has just the right amount of apple and cinnamon flavor, so it does not completely overpower the hints of coffee. However, we can definitely add more apple and cinnamon flavoring if the taste of strong coffee is not your forte.” She said, suggesting her number one favorite drink.

The female customer smiled and instantly asked for that drink. The way Sumin advertised it immediately piqued her curiosity to the point that she had to try out this drink. She dug out her wallet and pulled out a credit card before handing it over to Sumin.

Sumin took the card and slid it through the card reader. She handed both the card and receipt to the young woman as she told her that her order would be up soon.

The customer smiled politely before walking over to an empty seat to patiently wait.

Sumin tapped her register as she mentally counted down from ten. Her golden rule was to always wait at least ten seconds before leaving the register to help out her co-workers.

In a matter of seconds, she reached ten. However, just as she turned to help her fellow baristas, she noticed a familiar face walk inside the shop. The sweet, young lady halted in her steps; her brows became knitted together. What was Jungkook doing here? She had thought that Seokjin would come and fetch her—just as he’d been doing for weeks now.

Jungkook nodded at Sumin, smirking slightly, as his eyes surveilled the little, adorable coffee shop that his wife’s roommate had been working at for almost a year. Prior to being thrown into the gang life, the innocent ray of sunshine decided to work here because as she quoted, “I can’t rely on my mom to pay for my tuition. I’m old enough to make money on my own, so why not?”

At first, Jungkook nearly laughed at the girl’s reasoning but soon directed his laughter at Seokjin, who wanted to shell out thousands of dollars to pay for Sumin’s schooling.

That poor lovesick fool…

“Are you ready to leave?” asked the gang leader’s husband, glancing behind him for a moment.

Sumin raised her brow, “No…” She began, “Besides, I’m the closer today, so I need to stay until 10 P.M. at the earliest” She explained.

Jungkook blinked a few times. The fuck…? Had her shitty boss always made her stay late?

More importantly…

Why didn’t Seokjin say anything to him and the rest of Bangtan about Sumin working until the late hours of the night? There were a few times where they couldn’t pick her up from work. She could’ve been fucking kidnapped!

Blinking a few times, Jungkook nodded and turned away from the counter. Sumin, raising her brow, stared at Jungkook’s retreating body; confusion etched on her face.

From her months of knowing her roommate’s husband, she knew that it was never a good sign when he suddenly becomes quiet. Most of the time, it ended with Seokjin being forcibly used as sparring partner but seeing how her newly appointed bodyguard was not here—what was he planning?

“Jungkook…?” The anxious girl questioned, drawing out the last syllable in his name.

Unfortunately, no answer.

Moments of silence continued to pass her by as Jungkook remained still in the middle of the coffee shop. Soon, many bystanders glanced his way as their curiosity bested them; though, Sumin was almost certain that many of the females only stared because of how good looking he was. Judging from their faces, she knew that they were more than likely wondering if he was taken, and if he wasn’t, then they hoped they’d have a chance with him.

Good thing Sowon wasn’t with her…

It had been almost an hour, and Jungkook continued standing like a statue. Finally having enough of his strange antics, and the fact that her manager was about to demand that he leave, Sumin quickly asked a fellow barista to cover her before walking over to her bodyguard of the day.

She cautiously approached him, remembering what Sowon had said when it came to sneaking up on Jungkook, and slowly placed a warm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

Just as she opened her mouth to kindly ask him to come back later, she noticed him reaching behind him.

Her eyes widened as the color practically drained from her face.

Jungkook had slowly reached for his gun.

Why was he going for his gun? There's absolutely no reason for him to do so.

Then, it hit her.

He was about to do something that would definitely cost her her job...

“Jungkook...don’t...you…” However before she could finish her warning, Jungkook pulled out his gun and fired a few rounds into the air, alarming everyone in the cafe.

“EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT! THIS SHOP IS NOW CLOSED!” He demanded; his voice boomed, creating this echo.

Without a second thought, everyone, including the workers, scrambled out of the coffee shop. Every single one of them screaming their heads off, while Sumin covered her face with her hands; a few whines escaped her lips.

She thought Sowon lived to embarrassed the shit out of her but no. Jungkook had taken over that role.

Waiting a few seconds, making sure that no one would have the balls to come back inside, Jungkook calmly secured his gun again, tucking it in the waistband of his jeans. Of course, he made sure that the safety was on. He’s not stupid.

He then swiftly turned, grinning widely as he walked up to Sumin. He placed a friendly hand on her head and said,

“Well, looks the like shop is closed now. We can go home,” He glanced at his expensive watch, “Oh and look at the time! It’s not even 9 P.M. Go you!” He shouted happily. His smile ever so bright.

Slowly, Sumin removed her hands from her face. Her eyes narrowed, sending icy cold daggers his way.

Jungkook, on the other hand, became oblivious to her fury. He’d never seen her pissed off. His wife? Yes. Sumin? Nope.

Without saying anything, Sumin balled her hand into a fist and then drew it back. Before Jungkook could ask her what she was doing, he felt a rough impact against his shoulder.

Aw...Sumin tried hurting him. That’s cute.

“You’re an idiot!” shouted Sumin, unleashing Hell on to him.

Jungkook gawked, “How am I an idiot?! I did you favor, Minnie!”

Sumin made a face as tiny creases formed on her forehead. The fuck? Minnie? What kind of nickname was that?

“First of all, don’t call me that again. Second of all, how is you firing your fucking gun inside the place that I work at doing me a FAVOR?!” She argued; her voice increased an octave.

Jungkook smirked, “Why? You remind me of Minnie Mouse. Plus, your name is “Sumin”, so why not?” He retorted, earning himself another punch in the arm. “And, to go back to your second point, the rounds were blank, so no harm came to you or the customers.” He added, shrugging nonchalantly.

Out of frustration, Sumin threw her hands up and simply walked away. He’s too much of an idiot right now and arguing with him would only create even a bigger migraine.

However, Jungkook didn’t see it that way. He saw it as a victory for himself. She walked away; therefore, he was right.

And of course...he had to let her know...

“Ha! I win this argument!” He bragged, smiling from ear-to-ear.

Okay...that did it…

An almost animalistic growl emitted from her lips as Sumin grabbed a nearby knife and threw it at the annoying gang member.

Jungkook instantly stopped smiling and ducked just as the knife flew over his head. He couldn't help but let out a long whistle.

Damn...that was quite impressive.

He slowly stood up, eyeing the knife that impaled the wall. The longer he stared at it, the more an idea began to circulate inside his devious mind.

“I wonder if Sowon would allow her cute little roomie to be properly trained in weaponry…” He glanced at Sumin, who currently calmed herself by violently cleaning the counters, “Specifically in knives…” He finished his thought.

Sumin shook her head to get herself out of her daydreaming, when Sowon pushed her back into their shared room.

“But it also had a good thing he had been there,” She shrugged her shoulders, as she let herself fall onto her bed, ready to fall asleep again even though she just took a nap while the lecture was still going on up front, “We now know you are pretty good with weaponry and it’s a good style of defense for you.”

She happily smiled, feeling content with herself. Sowon yawned, as she closed her eyes, “Wake me up when it’s time to get you to work, sunshine.”

While Sowon was getting her rest, Sumin, on the other hand, got rid of the few wilted flowers and proceeded to study, mumbling law after law quietly to herself. Working part-time and suddenly training with gang-members didn’t give her much time to study, so she needed to take what she could get...

It was about an hour from closing time and only a few customers were lingering over their coffee. Sumin kept mumbling a few laws she keeps forgetting to herself as she cleaned the counter.

As soon as the chimes over the door jingled, she put a smile on her face either greeting or wishing the customers a ‘good evening’ before she returned to her duty of cleaning everything for closing. She diligently disinfected the equipment and prepared the area for the next mornings business rush, organizing all of the coffee, milk, creamers...everything, really.

Then she took a box and put all the remaining muffins into the box with a smile on her face. The boys would love the little surprise as they always loved what they had in the shop. This way she didn’t need to waste anything and throw it away. She put it aside and then walked around the counter, closing the main door behind the last customer. Sumin quickly returned to the counter and got out her personal bag and carefully putting the muffins away. She kept looking over to the glass windows, wondering where Jungkook was, as the young man never came later and most likely showed up way too early. 

Shrugging her shoulders, Sumin proceeded to the tied-up trash bags and got them out the back door, stuffing them into the trash can. Humming to herself, she pulled down the lid again and turned around only to freeze in her movements completely. Her eyes fell on another intense gaze, a wicked smirk appearing on the strangers lips.

“There you are, little one,” Mark spoke almost softly, cornering Sumin easily against the backdoor of the coffee shop, “Has no one taught you to not go out alone in empty alleys at night?”

Her breath hitched. Her heart nearly stopped. Her fingers trembled slightly as fear slowly took control of her body.

What the fuck was Mark Lee doing here?

More importantly... how on Earth did he figure out where she worked?

“And has no one taught you that it is a dick move to drug a defenseless girl?” She snapped back, though, what she really wanted to ask was, “What are you doing here and how the fuck did you know I worked at this coffee shop?”

Mark, on the other hand, simply scoffed yet had this scheming like smirk plastered on his face. While, Sumin radiated this innocence like aura, she started to develop a little bit of a backbone. More than likely thanks to Sowon and the rest of her little band of mischiefs.

He then took a step closer to her, unbothered to answer her questions, causing the poor girl to take a step back. He continued to close the gap between them, slowly trapping her against his body and the door. His eyes displayed this predator like stare as he slowly swept his bottom lip with his tongue.

God, the things he could do to her that would have her begging for his touch. Just him imagining her this moaning mess stirred up his hormones and sped up his heart. It’s not every day he had the opportunity to claim such a beautiful angel like Sumin.

A low chuckle escaped his lips as Mark swiftly yet gently pinned Sumin’s arms above her head. He lowered his face and nestled it against the crook of her neck. He slowly inhaled the sweet and addicting scent of her perfume that smelled like country apples. It’s nice to know that she hadn’t changed it since the night they first met. He would honestly go crazy if she were to change anything that got him so damn obsessed over her that fateful night—the night that he knew that Sumin would be his.

Moments of silence continued to pass them by as Mark had yet to show any signs of releasing the poor girl. At first, Sumin struggled to free herself, but that only annoyed the NCT gang leader. Every time she’d squirmed underneath his touch, he’d either softly kiss or nip her precious neck. Whenever he did that, Sumin felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. This unfamiliar noise that begged for a release.

What kind of spell did he have her under?

“C-can you let me go now? I have a feeling that one of my guy friends will be showing up soon, and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” Sumin requested softly; her eyes glanced around, hoping to see any familiar faces.

Mark hummed in response, remaining still, as he did not want to leave the comforts of Sumin’s neck. Something about her warmth relaxed him. A feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long ass time. He placed on final kiss on her neck, but this time it was different. He gently sunk his teeth in her skin and sucked; though, he was careful to not bite too hard. His tongue gently swept over the area as his teeth continued to pull on her precious, soft skin.

A sigh of content exited her lips as her mind grew fuzzy. Out of nowhere, Sumin tilted her head; her eyes closed and her lips parted just a bit. That foreign sensation, that she experienced earlier, continued to grow within her. Her rational thought slowly faded away as she wanted nothing more but to tangle her fingers within his hair and capture his lips with hers.

Wait...what?

That’s not what she wanted to do, especially with the leader of NCT—the sworn enemy of Bangtan.

Without a second thought, she pushed him away, uncaring about the fact that he could’ve tore a piece of her skin off by doing so.

Mark, with his pupils practically dilated, panted. He secretly thanked Sumin for doing that because if she hadn’t, then they’d be naked inside her coffee shop and filling the place up with their loud moans.

Yeah...the first time he’d claim her body would be in his bed—where no one would have the privilege of seeing his precious angel’s bare body.

“I think you should go, Mark…” Mark heard Sumin say softly. He then met her gaze; his eyes flickered towards the love bite that he had created.

He scoffed softly with a short grin on his face, “You’re probably right. I don’t want your little bodyguards to get the wrong idea about us.” He said, reaching inside one of the pockets of his leather jacket and fishing something out.

Once he felt something cool against his skin, he pulled it out and dangled it in front of Sumin.

“I want you to wear this.” He instructed vaguely.

Sumin’s eyes widened as she produced this loud gasp. Her eyes took in the fine details of the necklace, noting the mixture of diamonds and blue sapphires as it created this beautiful flower design.

She redirected her focus on Mark, who’s silently pleased with the reaction that he had gotten from her.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept it,” She began, smiling apologetically, “I mean, we aren’t even dating, so for me to take this will just feel wrong to me.” She finished, hoping her explanation would convince him.

Sadly...it didn’t…

If anything, it only added to his strong desire to claim her as his.

Mark quickly mustered a sincere smile, hiding this calculating gleam in his eyes.

“I know but, I want you to have it. While, yes, we are not exclusive towards one another, I hope you see this as my way of courting you.” He said, walking towards her and clasping the necklace around her neck. “I know it has only been a few months since we have met, but I am a firm believer of love at first sight, and I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes to convince you that I am right man for you regardless of the fact that I am the leader of NCT.” He added, staring at Sumin with hopeful eyes.

To say that she was speechless would be an understatement. Not only did she had that effect on Seokjin, but Mark as well. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that two fellas both expressed a huge interest in her, and all she did was simply smile.

God...where was Sowon when she needed her. She was her go-to guy chaser whenever some creep would have the audacity to speak to her after they’ve been rejected.

As the innocent girl opened her mouth in hopes to try and convince Mark that things would never work out between them, the NCT leader placed a finger on her lips.

“Before you reject me...just think about it…” He said softly, smiling, before turning away and leaving her.

Sumin eyed his retreating body, confusion dawned on her face. Great...how was she going to explain things to Sowon…

Meanwhile, as Sumin collected her thoughts, Mark strolled down the alleyway but soon halted in his steps as he came face-to-face with someone he did not want to see. Someone that could ruin his perfectly good evening…

A fucking member of Bangtan…

“So, you really think this was a wise decision to come here, huh?” Jungkook clicked his tongue and cocked his head to the side, one hand settling on his gun, ready to use it if Mark made one wrong move. “The rumors are true then, you’re all are pretty fucking dumb then. Good-looking but no brains,” He laughed lowly, eyeing Mark as he circled around him, slowly backing up to Sumin, so she could hide behind him safely.

“Fuck off, now…or I’ll kill you right here,” Jungkook hissed, grabbing Sumin by her wrist to pull her against his back. Mark growled low in his chest, not liking the way the opposite gang member was treating his love-interest, but there was one thing the other was right about. It would be fucking stupid to stay here in the open with Jungkook any longer. Mark winked playfully at Sumin, saluted at Jungkook teasingly and then turned around, running off and vanishing into the dark.

Jungkook stayed frozen in his spot for a moment. He listened closely, trying to make out any noises that would tell him that Mark would come back but there was nothing. So, he cursed quietly and without saying anything else he stomped along, pulling at Sumin’s wrist to motion for her to come with him.

Just as she wanted to open her mouth, Jungkook’s rough voice echoed through the dark, “I don’t fucking care if you haven’t closed the coffee shop yet, and if you’re not finished cleaning up. We’re going to go now.” He was walking fast and Sumin had a hard time keeping up. Jungkook pushed a second helmet into her hands before motioning to his motorbike. “Oh, don’t you even think about going back to the dorms tonight.”

This cool sensation penetrated the warmth that radiated from her skin. Confusion glazed over her eyes yet there were tiny hints of fear. Fear that she may never see her friends and mom again if Mark were to successfully kidnap her.

What a truly frightening thought…

“Minnie…?” a questioning voice penetrated her thoughts. Sumin looked up and saw a worried expression written all over Jungkook’s face.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he started up his motorbike, revving the engine a few times to get it nice and hot.

Sumin slowly shook her head, still frozen in her spot.

Jungkook raised his brow as he hopped off his bike, making sure the kickstand was firmly down and resting on the pavement. He then walked up to the afraid girl and placed a friendly hand on top of her head. A faint yet warm smile appeared on the boy’s face as he disliked seeing how distressed his “sister” had become over some creeper who refused to get in his fucking thick head that Sumin would never be his.

“Hey…” But before Jungkook could finish what he wanted to say, Sumin interrupted him, saying something that would never leave his mind for the rest of his life.

“Can you promise me that Mark will never get me?”

“Minnie…”

“No, Jungkook. Swear on your life that you and the rest of Bangtan will make sure that I am safe...”

Jungkook stared sympathetically at his wife’s roommate. He even felt a slight twinge in his heart as he’d never seen this innocent girl become extremely vulnerable. Not even after the whole drugging episode a few months back.

The girl in front of him was vastly different from the spitfire he had met while Sowon was in hiding.

The fuck did Mark do to her?

With this confident smirk gracing his face, Jungkook courageously stared straight into Sumin’s scared eyes and said,

“I swear on Seokjin’s life that I will make sure that you are safe with us and not with that creepy fucker that thinks that you’re his.”

Sumin chuckled softly, finding it amusing that Jungkook used Seokjin’s life as a bargaining tool yet again.

“Why do you always swear on Seokjin’s life and never yours?” She asked before putting on the helmet.

Jungkook laughed, “Because my wife would kill me if I somehow ended up dead.” He explained as he too put on his helmet before straddling his motorbike.

“Wait...what?” Sumin became confused, trying to figure out how on Earth Sowon could kill Jungkook if he was already dead. Great, her head started to hurt just thinking about it.

“Let’s just go back to the mansion. It’s past your bedtime, young lady.” The second-in-command teased, propping up the kickstand and ready to head back to the mansion.

“When did you become my dad?”

“When my wife suddenly adopted you.”

A/N: Wow! Talk about ending that on a heavy yet cute note between Jungkook & Sumin. Honestly, I love the sibling dynamic the two of them share! Anyway, we are slowly ending the end of this amazing series! But...I think Jey and I were thinking of making a sequel, especially with certain aspects of this story taking a different turn. What do you guys think? ;)

Also, by the time this is officially released, I will be done with my last ever semester of school (well until the teaching credential program lol) Go me! So, I will have more time to write more updates, one shots, and everything in between! 

Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/and an ask in mine or Jey’s inbox! We love hearing your thoughts!

- Kim

[ancientbooshartifacts]

The Even Stranger Tale of the Crack Fox

Author: PlanetBanjo

Year: 2008

Rating: NC-17

Characters: The Crack Fox

Thud. Thud. Thud. The rubbish bags land heavily somewhere above, waking me. Vermin. I sigh heavily, switch on my cine-film projector and sip some cat’s blood. Artic foxes fuck and flicker across a make-shift screen. Soon I’ll make you wear a little dress and hurt you. Soon. ^~*~^ Elderberry Wood bored me rigid today. Dante drove me to distraction with his incessant ranting. Yesterday, he shot a man clean out of a tree just for ‘looking a bit ginger’. I warned him that we can’t have humans taking an interest in a badger, especially not one with racist leanings and a rifle. OK, so there was the horrendous incident with the shovels but no matter how much Dante attempts to justify his actions, I shall always decline to agree with him. And there’s dear Nicholas with his fixation with tennis. I admire his tenacity and dedication to the sport yet his unwavering determination that a rodent will play at Wimbledon is becoming a little repetitive and grating. Poor misguided Nicholas. His habit of continually pissing himself plays havoc with his tennis whites. All so dreadfully dreary. I can’t shake off the feeling that life elsewhere is so much more interesting. ^~*~^ My cousin, Jack Cooper, sent me a letter! Jack’s an urban fox. He often tells me stories about London Town and the people he meets there. I must say, those town fellows sound rather over-familiar types. He once told me about an experience he had whilst staying in a peculiar-sounding place where animals are held captive so that humans can come and look at them. Jack said there was a tall, shifty-eyed chap with a moustache who worked at this odd place and that the man had tried to touch his cock. When this chap said he just wanted to clean him up, Jack said ‘no’ and tried to bite him but then he was given something that sent him into a deep slumber. Jack says that he doesn’t recall what happened afterwards but he was sure it was very bad indeed. He said the moustached fellow often passed by his cage and gave him a sinister sideways glance that made his hackles rise. My cousin is now free of the animal prison and lives on the streets of Dalston. He says he’s happy there and that his diet is better than the one he endured in Hackney. He advised me that a diet of fried chicken, false nails and crack pipes leads to acute tummy shame. However, Jack’s letter only served to increase my feelings of general ennui. Life here is dull dull dull. ^~*~^ Today I took a ride on my penny farthing along Leafy Lane and decided to rest a while on a grassy knoll. As I cast a disinterested gaze around me, I caught sight of a discarded magazine lying in a nearby hedgerow. Its glossy coloured pages fluttered in the breeze, sending out waves of a curious smelling perfume. I leant across and reached into the bush, tugging it free. Upon wiping the dirt from the cover, I saw that the magazine was called CHEEKBONE and so I sat down beneath a willow tree to read it. It is not like the usual magazines that I find tossed into the bushes. There are many photographs of people inside its pages and they talk of restaurants and nightclubs and music. And they are all wearing very nice clothes. The magazine is very exciting. I have already read it several times, over and over and over and over. I think I would like to go to London Town, one day. ^~*~^ I am on a train to London! Dante and Nicholas were resolutely against me going away. They said: “Jerome, this is a big mistake. You’ll be back here in a fortnight with your sorry tail between your legs.” Dante hit me hard with the butt of his rifle, as if to change my mind but I insisted that I want to see more of the world and that I must take this opportunity to sample the lifestyle I have seen in CHEEKBONE magazine. I told my friends that if I spend one more afternoon punting along the river through Cambridge Town then I would eat my own ears in pure frustration. After all, if all the stories Jack has told me are true, the life of an urban fox will be far more stimulating than an existence spent entirely in Elderberry Wood! So, I have new clothes, which are just like the ones worn by the people in CHEEKBONE and I have applied a little of the perfume contained inside the paper flap on one of its pages. I assume all people in London smell this way? ^~*~^ Oh, this situation is quite intolerable! I have visited all the labour exchanges in this part of town and yet there are no vacancies! Do these humans not recognise a hard-working fox of good breeding and intelligence when they see one? If my cousin were not an urban fox, I would blame those grubby town creatures for giving my species a bad reputation with their nightly rattling and scattering of dustbins and their yapping and yelping in back gardens. Should I wrap myself in plastic carrier bags and wear rotting fruit on my head? Would they employ me then? Would that be more acceptable? And Jack was right - the edible pickings here are atrocious. A young fox cannot survive on a diet of saturated fat and sticky sauce sachets. I must have freshly-made cucumber sandwiches and drinking fresh spring water, not this abomination on the taste buds! Isn’t it enough that I have to battle with the rancid humans that live on the street for the best scraps? They scuttle around in their filthy blankets like common vermin, scurrying amongst the rubbish, which means I often miss out on obtaining the better take-away leftovers. These people are thoroughly unpleasant and they smell nothing like the paper flaps of my magazine. This really isn’t cricket. ^~*~^ Three weeks in London now and nothing. Trying to survive on wits and wile alone is proving arduous, even for a fox of my calibre. Winter is drawing in and the nights grow colder. There are no snug burrows to retreat to when the black frost creeps across the pavements. I spend my days wandering aimlessly, growing increasingly grubby and despondent and sleeping under railway arches until I am shoo-ed rudely away by the Street People. My clothes grow filthy and worn. I pawned my monocle to pay for a few nights in a hostelry. The people there gave me hot soup and blankets. They found my copy of CHEEKBONE and told me that the people in its pages were immoral. They said a young fox shouldn’t believe everything he sees in fashion magazines and then they showed me some pamphlets. The pamphlets were filled with brightly-coloured drawings of a man with a beard and a flowing gown. He had light coming out of his hands and people looked up to him and smiled. My copy of CHEEKBONE magazine, constantly in my pocket, is now tattered and torn. Where on earth do I find the people inside its pages? ^~*~^ Finally, my fortunes have changed! Whilst sifting through the meagre pickings at the rear entrance of ‘Dixie Fried Chicken’, my eye fell upon a scrap of local newspaper that carried the following advertisement. ‘WANTED – FURRY FRIENDS FOR SELECT NEW CLUB’. Well, I’m furry! And I’m seeking a select club! So I spruced myself up a little and went along to the address to see what it was all about. The gentleman running ‘The Tufty Club’, Mr. Soames, was very hospitable. He warmly welcomed me into his office and gave me some freshly-cooked chicken and clean water, which I devoured hungrily. There were pictures on the office walls just like the ones in CHEEKBONE! He was a little evasive when I pressed him on the matter of wages and hours but I expect this will all be worked out as we go along. Then he provided me with a small cash advance, gave me instructions about the kind of clothes I will be expected to wear and told me that I could start tomorrow. Apparently I am exactly what the club is looking for! I’m still not sure exactly what I’m going to be doing there but...I’ve got a job! ^~*~^ What a night! There were lots of flashing lights and lots of smiling people and loud, loud MUSIC! At first I was a little wary about what I had to do. Lots of men with moustaches and white vests stared at me. Was this the place Jack had told me about in his letter? One of the men approached me and he held out a little glass pot, telling me to sniff it. He said it would help me work better. Well, I pressed my snout cautiously to that little pot and - WWOOOOOOOO!!! I felt really fine and the world was full of colours and the man span me round and held me in his arms and I was dancing! I danced all night and into the morning in my little white vest! And there were lots of other men who also danced with me and Jack shouldn’t have been so scared of that man with a moustache because he didn’t want to hurt me! He helped me feel good with his sniffy-pots! All I have to do is dance on a little podium and shake my tail around and let the men stroke me! Ha ha! These are fun-fun times! ^~*~^ Mr Soames pays extra attention to me. He lets me sleep in a nice warm cupboard in his flat. He says that he has a special job he would like me to do, and that he will pay me twice my hourly wage if I do it. I am not sure what my hourly wage is – there has been a cash-flow problem, apparently, which has resulted in a slight delay in my payment – but he assures me it will be easy work and that the money will be very good indeed. He is a kind man. I am happy to perform any extra tasks he has, especially if it pays well. Who knows? One day I might have enough money to have my own flat, and then Jack and I shall have dinner parties for other sophisticated intellectuals. We shall be proper urban foxes about town! ^~*~^ This evening, Mr. Soames showed me the job he wanted me to do. He invited me into his office after my shift. He said it wouldn’t take long. He asked me to remove my trousers and then told me to stand on all fours on top of his desk and face the wall. I was a little cautious but he had told me the job would pay well, so I complied. As I faced forward, I heard him undo the belt on his trousers. He gently took hold of my tail and pressed his large warm belly against my haunches. I tensed a little as I felt the hot, wet tip of something long and hard rubbing against my fox-anus. I gave a startled yelp as he pushed the hot wet thing – which I rapidly released was his man-cock – right inside me, sliding it in deep with a groan. I struggled against him but he held me fast, stroking my fur, telling me to be quiet and not to worry. Then he pushed himself against me, back and forth, making lots of grunting sounds that reminded me of Nicholas playing tennis. I dug my claws into the desk surface and gazed up at the people in the photos around the office walls, concentrating on their smiles, trying to bear the pounding at my rear, telling myself this job would pay well. After a few minutes, Soames gave a gargled scream. He tugged his cock out of me, hurriedly refastening his trousers, tossed 100 euros on to the desk and left the room. I delicately stepped down from the desk, hitched up my garments and collected the money. What a very interesting experience this is turning out to be! ^~*~^ The stupid creature screeched as I grabbed and twisted its neck, its front paws scrabbling frantically in mid-air, claws protruding sharply. I gritted my fangs and smashed its head hard against a brick wall. The cat’s body went limp in my grasp, its eyes rolling shut. With my syringes, I slit its throat and watched its blood begin to trickle slowly from the wound. As I licked at the warm viscous liquid, I noticed the tag around its neck read ‘Puffin’. Puffin shouldn’t have taken what wasn’t his. ^~*~^ Last night after work, Mr Soames introduced me to another man who wanted me to do a special job for him, too. I told the man that I felt a little weary after a night’s podium dancing and that I needed to rest. He laughed and said he had something that would help me stay awake, adding that he would pay me 200 euros if I went to his flat right away. The man gave a wide smile from beneath his large moustache. He reassured me that all I would have to do was wear a little dress and dance for his friends. It sounded easy enough. ^~*~^ if I have an entire paw of needles then I can take more drugs and I can forget about the cold and the wet and the terrible hunger because I’ve eaten nothing but old bottles of shampoo and squeezed-up tubes of toothpaste and pieces of shit for the last four weeks I’m not proud of it but when you’re hungry and you’re on the streets and you’ve got nothing to eat but handfuls of human faeces and a fox has got to do what a fox has to do and the Street People talk of a drug that’s so powerful that a single drop can make you King of the World and everyone will do your bidding but I don’t know because they are bombed out of their tiny minds for most of the time and what a ridiculous idea a drug that can give you special power over everyone and everything and who the hell would want power over those shambolic filthy creatures who spend all day gulping their electric soup and having fights and is this really what mankind has become it would be so easy to get them to do anything I wanted them to do ^~*~^ I can’t...I can’t do this anymore. The men never stop. They give me their special powders and they pound at me for hours and... They never stop. So I’m running away. Back to the streets. I can’t go back to Elderberry Wood. Dante and Nicholas will laugh at me and constantly remind me they were right. ^~*~^ The green-toothed man in the filthy blanket had it coming. His neck...it broke...beneath my claws. It broke...so easily. As easy as a cat. Then I plunged my syringes and pushed them deep into the veins of his throat and I watched in fascination as he screamed and struggled beneath me. I felt the pulse in his neck gradually fade away. A misty vapour formed around his mouth as he gave his last breath. FIDDLE-DEE-DIE. I see now that Dante was right. Humans are vermin and must be destroyed. Why didn’t I ever listen to him? ^~*~^ Thud. Thud. Thud. I watch and I listen. And I see the small man put the large glass bottle into his special cupboard and he locks it away. Then he gives the key to the pretty man who looks like a lady. I will rule these pathetic creatures. I will command them. So I wait. My time will come. I watch and I wait.

[thekintsukuroikid]

December 23 2017.

I never wanted to post these. I wasn’t going too.

It wasn’t until I saw the pictures of my family members did I realize I actually did capture something worth sharing, worth working on, worth feeling good about.

I’ve been on meds for awhile, been to therapy too. I’m starting to feel like I have the tools in my toolbox to start making some steps forward. I just don’t feel like I have the self belief to really go for it.

I’m tired, i’m frustrated and I’m finding it increasingly harder to rationalize this fight for myself. I remember being so excited when I moved away that finally I had the ability and the freedom to focus on myself, all of myself, especially my mental health. The commitment to do so has be fraught with setbacks and frustration.

The silver lining to which is the sheer immensity of kindness and love I’ve received from my friends. I question how I deserve it…obviously, and I am always wary of making sure our conversations aren't always about negative stuff. I don’t want to drag em down, or be a bummer.  I always believed the most insulting feeling in the world is being pitied. I’d rather be hated than pitied. Maybe i’m just being loved.

I always need external context, I never feel like I can start or finish or be without some sort of external form of permission, context, and sometimes motivation.

Whether is a girls number at the bar, or a degree on the wall I can never truly feel happy or connected to a moment, or an outcome unless I can work out how i’ve earned it. I almost never do.

What this means Is that I am often left floating, never really sure of myself in any given situation. Never really sure if what Im doing or experiencing is really building on a person or values as opposed to the consistent stringing together of just getting through the day.

Taking pictures is a hobby that feels safe to me, it feels worth pursuing. I think because deep down I have never felt like the main character of my own story, behind the lens I don’t have to be.

I named this blog after Kintsukuroi because I loved the meaning behind the art of fixing broken pottery with gold. I wanted to feel like I could do that for myself. Shine through my flaws. But even if I don’t, you can still fill the cracks with pyrite instead of gold and still hold water. Maybe that’s ok.

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

See the key to enjoying family vacations is finding little moments of solitude, of respite where you slip out the back and escape for a few hours armed with a bluetooth speaker and a book that wasn’t assigned reading.  

 -I found a beach chair on the very edge of the resort property, a small wooden fence and a small one person security shack all that separated me from the public beach area filled with local kids splashing and yelling.  

- I played something slow and looked out into ocean and came up with as many lame water metaphors as one could presumably concoct under the circumstances of time and a mild hangover. - I present them here:

  See I preface all of this by saying writing all flowerying and poetic like this is like eating buffallo wings really fast, like it tastes good but is always accompanied with the heartburn of being this self indulgent. It just kinda feels douchey haha.  Ah fuck it lets go. Maybe self indulgent is the point?  When else can you be self indulgent right? 

How do I explain the fear of wondering if I wasted my best years simultaneously treading water, and never actually getting wet. How do I reconcile that? Am I gonna be in my late 30s wondering what its like to feel smart enough, or hot enough or good enough. That seems like it could suck, I mean it sucks now, what happens when it also feels like I’ve run out of time?

Speaking of water...

--

Sabrina Benaim said that Depression is turning lonely into busy.

and I am always busy.

She said that  

“Depression is sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness, I cannot baptise myself”

- I get that. You see it all around, potential everywhere, happiness so close it seems within reach and everyone around you thinks so too, yet you can't submerge yourself in it. You just drift along, walking on the water that is happiness and not being able to get yourself soaked in it. Always staying dry.

-  Maybe in my own metaphor if depression is the actual water?

- I wonder if Happiness is instead the sky you look up to when you’re treading water, concocting dreams of rescue helicoptors or philanthropic Pterodactyls swooping down to save you from your lack of cardio.

-I’ve tried to learn more about treading water by watching people who know how to swim really really well.

Google defines the Rapture of the Deep as an incapacitation that occurs when you dive too deep into the ocean, and no longer know what way is up. It can happen even if you learn how to swim really really well. One way or another some people just sink.

...and some people just take themselves way to seriously...I wonder if thats me?

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

January 20th 2018 

AN ADENDUM 

I am  not afraid of the dark. 

Night time makes snack food taste better.

Depression is a slowdance lit ever so romantically by the light of the street light by my window. the glow of the 3:00am on the clock backlighting my stirrings, as a defiance against the convention of normal sleep patterns that’d  make even my teenage angst say dude chill…take a nap.

- I envy people. 

Not because I want some material thing they have, or some accomplishment. -

- I’m jealous of people who’s ears don’t constantly ring with self doubt. I always felt like I wanted to be a producer instead of just a consumer. But I’ve never had the self belief to stand by what I make...or just make. You know how people play hard to get? I feel like I play hard to want. Like all the time. Trying to be happy means sometimes trying to hard and that is annoying as shit. 

 I cannot for the life of me understand how people can just, be. 

I cannot understand how people can get through the day with more hope beyond just getting through the day. I’d give one eye just to have the other see through that lens. 

I cannot understand for the life of me how people know what to do, like ok you’re a therapist how did you know you wouldn’t be the worlds best advertising agent, or a poet or a spot welder? how do these other options not keep you up at night?

- How many people actually try Luge, like what if there is the worlds best Luger (sp?)  and he’s instead stuck in the accounting department fantasizing about  how to ask out the intern in accounts receivable? He could be fucking Luging bro.  

What I’m saying is I cannot understand how people know who to be friends with, or where to live, or who to marry? What if a more compatible partner is out there but she lives in Nicaragua...Fuck dude you gotta go to Nicaragua maybe! maybe the beauty is that out of 7 billion people, out of a million decisions, and happen stances, out of a million one in a millions, you found each other. Maybe thats worth something too? The grass is greener where you water it and all that but how do you know you should be planting grass and not palm trees....or Weed?

How do you know what parts of the tree to prune, what parts can you cut to make it grow and what parts will kill the tree?

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

I do try my best, see thats the frustrating part I think. I've tried. I tried to be patient too, To not get ahead of myself. or try to feel like im entitled to feel better just because im trying too.

This has been the most open I've ever been with the people in my life bar my family. Not a single person i've told has reacted with anything other than a reaction of love and care.  No matter how I try I can't feel like I deserve it.  I’m so scared of opening up too much, and stifling how much and how long I talk about the bad days, I lie about how many good days im having because I don't want this to be a burden for them.  I don't want to get left behind because when im alone this thing starts getting the better of me. This is all a bad mix of feeling like I have the most to lose and feeling like I have the least amount of resources i’ve ever had to not lose them.

So much has changed and yet, it still feels like I have nothing to show for any of this. 

I read somewhere once that possession is the enemy of love. 

That you kill a flower by picking it. Instead of watering it where its rooted.  

-

Maybe more patience is required, it’d just be nice for a sign that somethings sprouted, that i’m doing the right things to bring forth an eventuality that this chapter of my life will be over.  I just wonder when perseverance ends and delusion begins?

--

I went into my brothers room to give put back a book. I found his sticky notes plastered all over his desk with like meditative buzz word, he's got books on history of architecture and james baldwin and eckhart tolle with the bookmarks well into them. He's starting his own creative company, hes filled out an application for the NYT. he's doing freelance work. hes already killing it with his company and in school. He is an awesome photographer,  he's a fashion whiz. he's a veritable genius. and I can't get out of bed.  I walked 3 steps out the door today, said nope, and went to bed. I went to bed at midnight last night and didn’t leave my room until 4pm.  Im not saying this in a jealous way or in away that harbours any negativity towards him. I love my brother, even if we are never going to be on the terms I hoped we’d be. To be honest I'm not really interested in the things he's into so him being good at those things don't take anything away from me. Its just insane to me how far behind I feel. I can't even basically function and he's taking on the world. If he were where I am, the world would be robbed of so much of the things he can do. I just feel like i'm robbing myself of what I could maybe do too. and It used to be a thing where If I saw somebody getting theirs, id be like aight I gotta go get mine too and id be motivated and it'd give me a boost. Because I believed in my better. I believed I had more to give.  now I just, I can't  envision any of that for myself. I don't even know what it looks like anymore.

I know that isn’t a fair comparison, I know he’s healthy and I’m not, I know comparison is the thief of joy.

It’s just, I started this whole getting healthy thing to start feeling more like myself. To start  to answer the questions about what I could do if depression  wasn’t at the forefront of every endeavour I chose to undertake, every thought that crossed my mind and every relationship I established. The fact is I feel no closer to answering that question. None. I feel farther than ever. I am the product of such wonderful privledge, to waste those gifts on a disease so self centred and indulgent seems ridiculous to me, yet here I am.

-

I have people walking with me now on this whimsical mental health adventure I’m on. Which is weird, because for the first time I’ve had to be cognizant of where my arms flail, or how much room I take up on the sidewalk. We walk together lock step, looking at that straight lined horizon, for something to eagerly burst its linearity and meet us more than half way.

While I appreciate the company it’s come with the added fear of what will happen if and when I have to stop, to stumble, to catch my breath, and for the sake of time, they keep walking. Until I can’t see them. Until the horizon is no longer something to move forward too. No north star to guide me home. 

See gratitude is anxiety. 

Always wondering how you’ve earned the luxury of a second to breathe, to use that moment to appreciate. 

 Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

[useyourrwords]

Grey Reads For Mental Health Awareness // Love Doesn’t Cure All (Thank Fuck For That) – Made You Up

Details

Title: Made You Up Author: Francesca Zappia Publisher: Green Willow Books Age: YA Genre: Contemporary, Romance Released: May 19th, 2015 Content Warnings: Pedophilia, physical parental abuse, controlling parents, spousal abuse, bullying, Nazi jokes and jokes about suicide Representation: Paranoid schizophrenia, poverty, Alexithymia

Synopsis*: Alex fights a daily battle to figure out the difference between reality and delusion. Armed with a take-no-prisoners attitude, her camera, a Magic 8-Ball, and her only ally (her little sister), Alex wages a war against her schizophrenia, determined to stay sane long enough to get into college. She’s pretty optimistic about her chances until classes begin, and she runs into Miles. Didn’t she imagine him? Before she knows it, Alex is making friends, going to parties, falling in love, and experiencing all the usual rites of passage for teenagers. But Alex is used to being crazy. She’s not prepared for normal.

Past Grey Reads

 Book Review // Girl Made of Stars – I Am Broken

 Grey Reads // Everything’s On Fire and I Couldn’t Be Happier – Girls of Paper and Fire

 Grey Reads // Bloody Moors & Candy Castles – The Wayward Children 2 & 3

Me at my Therapist: My paranoia is acting up again My Therapist: Why? Me: throws Made You Up on his desk Me: Because of this fucking book Therapist: Me: I want to be buried with it

Music Video

“Thank you,” the lobster said. “You’re welcome,” I replied. I dropped it on the ground.

When I saw that it was Mental Health Awareness Month I wanted to make sure I read at least one book with mental health representation this month.

Made You Up is a book that has been on my TBR for years and I just haven’t gotten around to picking it up yet.

Well, that is, until I saw it at the library while I was looking for books on Hysteria. I was planning on reading something else but I realised this was the book I needed to read this month.

So why did I feel it was so important for me to read this book?

Sometimes I think people take reality for granted. I mean like how you can tell the difference between a dream and real life. When you’re in the dream you may not know it, but as soon as you wake up, you know that your dream was a dream and whatever happened in it, good or bad, wasn’t real. Unless we’re in the Matrix, this world is real, and what you do in it is real, and that’s pretty much all you ever need to know. People take that for granted.

I’m about to get hella personal, but honestly what’s new???

My great uncle had schizophrenia. I never got to meet him, in fact no one from my generation did, I’m not even sure if my mum and her siblings ever did?? He killed himself quite young and it left a gaping hole within the family.

So, I’ve basically been worried since I was teen that myself or my little brother might end up with it. The fear is real, and I think it was worse the less I knew about it.

This isn’t my only experience with the illness. My aunt married a man who’s schizophrenic, though I never really saw him all that much. My mum has been a church counselor to several people with schizophrenia, with one of them staying with us for a brief period of time.

It’s a thing I have had probably more experience with than most but was still something I never 100% understood.

I don’t know why I felt now was finally the time to face this fear, but I’ve been doing a lot of facing things I’ve not felt ready for recently and so why not this too?

Was that Blue Eyes? I grabbed the Magic 8 Ball and rubbed the scuff mark as I looked down into its round window. Better not tell you now. Evasive little bitch.

Made You Up follows Alex, a paranoid schizophrenic teen, at her new school. Armed with her camera and perimeter checks, she’s trying her best to determine whether the things she’s seeing are real or not. But as she makes friends, and enemies, it’s becoming harder and harder for Alex to tell.

Especially when she thinks she might have found the smart, blue-eyed boy from her childhood, the same boy she had convinced herself was part of a hallucination involving a yoo-hoo and lobster tank.

Now, Alex can’t be sure if anything from her past, or present is real but maybe she’s found someone who she can trust to tell her.

“He knew who Acamapichtli was,” I added after a second. “Along with most of the other Aztec emperors. And the Tlatocan.” Dad’s approving noise rose an octave. “And I’m pretty sure he can speak German.” Dad smiled. “That all?” My face heated up again at the look he gave me. As if I liked Miles. As if I wanted to think about him. Just thinking about his stupid face and his stupidly blue eyes turned me into the most confused person on the planet. “No,” I said, burrowing into my blanket. “He can also take a hit.”

I loved like all of the characters in this book.

I love Alex, she was so real for me, through the entire book and her fears are a lot of the same ones I have myself. She’s whip smart and she’s not afraid to stand up for herself, even when it feels like the whole world is against her. I’ve never identified with a character when it came to my paranoia, and I will forever be grateful to Zappia for that.

And Miles. My sharp edged, intelligent and emotional, Miles. I love him. I don’t care that everyone thinks he’s a dick because I love him and I get it. I get struggling to understand people’s emotions and how that can make you cold and callous. That it can make people think you feel no emotion at all. Being forced to be an adult far sooner than any kid ever should. I would, quite frankly, protect Miles with my life.

The more she talked, the more I realized that June knew history. Not the history my parents were having an affair with, but personal histories. She learned the events that made up a person’s life, and she used them to understand why they did the things they did. Miles knew words. She knew people.

What most surprised me was how the mean girl trope was handled. As soon as I get a sniff of a mean girl in a book, I want to throw it at a wall. I’m over it, it’s tired and dangerous and sexist and I hate it. But!!! Zappia actually gave this trope the nuance and complexity it deserves.

There are so many things to love in this book. There’s found family, and fantastic neurodiverse rep. And there isn’t a love cures all bullshit ending, there isn’t even an “I’m going to come off my meds even though it’s a terrible idea” plot device. There were so many twist and turns, my head was spinning. Plus there’s loads of fun hi-jinks and a python! Guys, there’s a fucking python.

Made You Up is so engaging and captivating, and all the other synonyms for a book I. DID. NOT. WANT. TO. PUT. DOWN. I haven’t been pulled into a book this deep and quickly in ages!

I laughed when I remembered Tucker bringing up the bridge earlier. The Red Witch? The one who gutted travelers, coated herself in their blood, and screamed like a banshee? No, I wasn’t scared of her. The nighttime might have made everything upside down, inside out, scary as hell, but not to me. The baseball bat clink-clink-clinked as I walked toward Red Witch Bridge. I was the scariest thing out here tonight.

I was right, in thinking that this was the book for me to read this month because it was brilliant and educational! I came away knowing more than I did going in.

I laughed and cried and realised how much I identified with Alex. Not the hallucinations part of schizophrenia, but her paranoia. God did I feel it in my soul.

I do suffer from paranoia thanks to PTSD. So I get it. Most of my paranoia surrounds relationships and other people, and when it’s at it’s worse, myself. I can tell when it’s getting bad, and I’ll actively try and make sure it doesn’t affect my decisions but it’s hard to tell what is intuition and what’s just plain paranoia.

My paranoia turns on other people, it turns on my memories, it turns on myself. I second guess everything, my choices, my feelings, my thoughts. There’s a reason I’m so indecisive.

I don’t know if I can ever capture the feelings well. For all the words I have at my disposal, it’s hard to find the ones that fit, in this instance.

And I’ve not really found anything that captures it for me. But this book? This book did it for me. It wasn’t in beautiful prose, like I had expected. No it was more real than that. It was in Alex’s actions. It was in her doubts. It was in the slow build of her feelings and thoughts. This book held my hand and showed me I wasn’t alone.

Tears filled my mother’s eyes. “You have no right to come in my house and tell me how to treat my daughter!” “Oh, really? Because I know terrible parents, and you’re one of them!”

The only small complaint I have is that the ending just kind of . . . fell off.

There was all this fantastic build up and full speed momentum and then once that was gone, the book ran out of steam.

I don’t know, it’s a fine ending, it’s just not quite what I would have chosen. But I mean, after everything else this book gave me, I find it hard to be disappointed.

“Do you do this all the time?” he asked. “No,” I said. “Just today.” He smiled.

Where To Buy

│Goodreads│

Book Depository│Amazon Paperback│Kindle│**

*Taken from Goodreads. **If you would like me to include links to purchase books from a specific store in my reviews please let me know!

I receive a small commission off the following link

Past Grey’s Shelves

 Bookish Bits // Series TBR – Extra Down the TBR Hole

 Bookish Bits // Library Love – 2018

 Bookish Bits // I’m Finally Participating in A Readathon and Challenge! – Late-A-Thon + January Jam Jar

Will I Ever Read A Better Mental Illness Rep Book Again? Probably Not. 

Have you read Made You Up? What did you think of it? 

│Blog│Goodreads│Instagram│Twitter│Tumblr│

Advertisements

__ATA.cmd.push(function() { __ATA.initSlot('atatags-26942-5ce936bbe5f19', { collapseEmpty: 'before', sectionId: '26942', location: 120, width: 300, height: 250 }); });

from WordPress http://bit.ly/2WtsJCu via IFTTT

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 66)

“Wow, that Keeper of the Grove costume is amazing! I'd be scared if you weren't so tiny, kid, but you and your girlfriend are still pretty creepy.”

“Well ain't you the best damn Piper I've ever seen all night! Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were the Holy Shepherd herself come back from the Aether to bless us with her presence.”

“OH MY GOSH! NINJAS OF LOVE! I NEED A PICTURE WITH YOU, RIGHT NOW, OR I'M GOING TO DIE! LIKE, LITERALLY DIE!”

“Hello! We're from the Old World Animation Society, and we'd love to take your picture and use it as part of our promotional material...”

“Well howdy there, cowboy! Mind if I ask y'all what time it is…?”

Taiyang grinned. “Well, pardner, I'd say it's… niiinneee forty-five…!”

The other Old World cowboy laughed. “Thanks for the laugh and the memories, pardner,” he tipped his hat to Taiyang. “You and your gals enjoy your night now!”

He tipped his hat back. “Yer welcome, pardner, and y'all stay safe, too!” he said, before he resumed waiting at a bench with Weiss, watching over their bags of souvenirs and food while the others were busy with a game of “Shoot the Shade.”

Weiss sighed.

Taiyang turned to her. “Something wrong?”

“I can't believe no one's noticed,” she replied. “All of these pictures, all of these people stopping us, and not a single one has had even the slightest inkling, if I wasn't pretty sure they're also like us.”

Taiyang shrugged. “It's Eve of the Ether; 'weird' kinda becomes the new 'normal.'”

Weiss was about to reply, before she saw a group of Fae walk on by, dressed in their usual armour with their animal features out, shrugging off any suspicion by speaking in fluent Nivian. The difference between Fae and human fashion was so great the unsuspecting masses probably thought they were just dressed up as characters from a holo or a Trance sim.

“Are you fucking kidding me…?!”

“Yeah, they do that,” Taiyang hummed, smiling. “The 'costumes' Summer, Qrow, and Raven were 'wearing' when I first met them were just like those, actually!”

Weiss turned to him. “You met them on Eve of the Ether?”

Taiyang smiled. “In this very city. We met while we were in line at a 'Test Your Strength' game, where I was betting my last Urochs on breaking the record. I couldn't do it, but Summer broke the ever loving shit out of it and the machine, then split her prize money with me—so long as I promised I'd buy Qrow that beer he'd been clamouring for all night with my share.

“It was at that moment that I’m pretty sure I fell for her, and though I didn't realize it at the time, she was pretty interested in me, too.”

“What, couldn't see her expression under the mask?” Weiss teased.

Taiyang chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, she was actually going without it that night, not scare the crap out of people for a while. Denial is a hell of a thing, though.”

“So how’d you end up dating her?”

“We spent the rest of the fair together, and had a lot of fun. By the time the sun was almost about to rise and we all needed to leave, I realized this was one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities staring me in the face.

“I was young, lovesick, and had only enough money for the return trip back under the boot of the coziest kleptocracy in Avalon. What was the harm in following these three strangers back to whatever wild place in the Country they came from, I thought?

“As it turns out: a heckuva lot!

“But if I had a time machine to go back to the exact moment where I made that decision, I'd punch out Past Me, take his place, and convince Summer to take me home with her, so I could do it all over again without all the really bad decisions...

“How are you enjoying it out there, by the way?”

“Very much, actually!” Weiss replied. “My first two weeks aside, everything couldn't be better. At the very least, it's bounds better than what I left behind…”

Taiyang nodded. “You haven't experienced a Soul Eater attack yet, have you...?”

Weiss slowly shook her head. “No, actually... should I be worried?”

Taiyang was about to answer when the others came walking back with their prizes and badges proclaiming them the “Slickest Shade Shooters in the Realm.”

“I suppose you'll find out for yourself eventually!” he said as he got up to meet them.

Weiss sighed, figured that finding out how terrible something was from first-hand experience was just the way things worked in the Valley.

They eventually decided to go get dinner, and at Weiss' recommendation, they ate at Fiorina's.

For reasons of maintaining their cover, they chose a corner booth, Weiss and Pyrrha squeezed all the way inside and out of sight from the rest of the restaurant, Penny making sure that their bags of prizes and souvenirs were arranged in a way that would handily block the surveillance equipment without arousing any suspicion.

“This isn't amateur hour,” Ruby whispered to Weiss and Pyrrha. “We know what we're doing.”

They saw them in action as Taiyang talked to the waiter for all of them, and found out that he had followed the news very closely and had actually watched the fake ransom/execution holo several times—enough to feel that there was something disturbingly familiar about Ruby and the sound of her voice.

Taiyang sighed. “Look, Marty, I know it was big news realm-wide, but come on: we're just here to eat and enjoy ourselves! You wouldn't want to get in trouble with your boss by making seven hungry customers lose their appetites all because you couldn't stop talking about that awful tragedy would you?”

On cue, everyone but Weiss and Pyrrha looked at Marty with a mix of uneasy, disgusted, and extremely annoyed expressions.

Marty groaned. “Okay! Fine! I'm sorry for bringing it up... I'll be back with your orders in a 'jiffy…'”

They all watched him sulk off from the corner of their eyes, until he disappeared back into the kitchen. They let out sighs of relief, then started casually talking and discussing how to spend the rest of their night, as Pyrrha had essentially given them an effectively unlimited budget to do anything they wanted.

“I wish we had some way of paying you back for all this, 'Piper,'” Ruby said after they finalized their plans. “We've spent a LOT tonight.”

Pyrrha smiled. “Oh, it's fine! The memories I've made with all of you are more than worth every Uroch. My only regret is that we'll probably permanently part ways come morning...”

Yang smirked. “It's not to late to ask for our comms, you know—maybe you can just get Penny's, she's pretty well-connected after all,” she said, winking as she nudged Pyrrha with her elbow.

Pyrrha blushed.

Yang raised an eyebrow, then beamed. “Oh man! You already have, haven't you? Gimme a high-five, 'Piper!'”

Pyrrha tipped her cap lower over her bright red face, before she quickly high-fived Yang.

Penny smiled. “If I may interrupt: I do see a way we would be able to recoup our expenses,” she said as she pulled out her temporary comm-crystal, projected an advertisement out to the whole table.

“The Candela Couple's Costume Contest?” Weiss asked. “But contestants have to have a clearly matching theme, and it's only open to romantic—oh, right...”

“I'm game!” Ruby said. “It might be fun.”

“You'll probably score a lot of points with the judges for being relevant!” Taiyang added. “What is for sure is that you two going to get a lot of attention.”

“Possibly the bad kind...” Weiss muttered.

“Our ploy's worked very well so far,” Pyrrha said quietly. “I think it'll be safe to assume that it'll keep on working.”

Blake pulled out her own comm-crystal, typed something on it: “Make escape plan, just in case?”

Pyrrha nodded. “I can be bait for a distraction; I'm getting hell when I get home anyway, what's a little more trouble?”

Taiyang hummed. “Don't see how this can't work, if all of us work together!”

Yang raised her hand. “Yeah, that's going to be an issue, because I have several issues with this plan.”

Ruby sighed. “Can't you just let it go for tonight, Yang? We could really use the money.”

Yang glared at her. “No. You are my precious, innocent baby sister, and I am not okay with throwing you at the mercy of strangers for Urochs, especially when you'll be going in with Ice Princess over here!”

Weiss growled. “Everyone, could you please excuse myself and Yang? We'll just be going to the restroom...”

Ruby looked uneasily at them both, before she sighed and began to make room for them to leave, the others following suit.

Diners and servers gave them a wide berth as they walked on past, fearing the aura they were giving off—like an inferno coming up against a blizzard.

They kept their voices down for the benefit of the people actually using the facilities, but the tension came through loud and clear.

“What is your problem with me?” Weiss snapped. “What is it that is that ticks you off about me dating Ruby?”

Yang scowled and held up her hand. “I suggest you don't go there, princess, or else we're going to have to add broken furniture and walls to our bill later. Look: has anyone told you about the statistics of Fae/Human relationships? About how they’re almost always doomed to fail?”

“Penny has, and in my defense, that's the same thing they said about my grandparents relationship, and look how they ended up,” Weiss huffed.

Yang groaned. “I'm trying to help you here, Weiss! You know one of the biggest reasons why the Shit went down? It's because dad thought he could handle a relationship with Ruby's mom!

“Now don't get me wrong: they were crazy for each other, and Uncle Qrow’s got the proof in his chronicle, but the fact is, dad just couldn't handle all the cons of dating a Keeper—though it probably didn't help that he was forced to live with his ex-wife, AKA my mom the Alpha Bitch.

“Dating Ruby is going to be crazy, it's going to be full of problems, and trust me: you may think you've got it all figured out, but then something's going to happen that'll turn your whole world round and round till you don't have the slightest clue which way is up or down!

“Trust me: I watched this shit unfold before my very eyes, and it was a helluva roller coaster of ups, downs, and seventeen-dimensional shapes beyond our comprehension! I was just a baby for all of it, but I know you know from personal experience that little kids absorb and understand a lot more shit than adults think they do.”

Yang's eyes softened. “Dad wasn't perfect, as a person or as a husband both times he tried, and he'll be the first to admit that! But he was a helluva lot more well-adjusted and had a whole lot less issues than you did, Weiss.

“You're going to end up getting hurt. Ruby's going to end up getting hurt. And with Keepers, you can bet there’s going to be plenty of collateral damage. And I don't know if you’ll believe me, but I sincerely wish none of that to happens to you—to either of you.

“So please: will you say 'No' to the contest…?”

Weiss looked Yang in the eyes, saw the sincerity, the desperation. She felt the anger and indignation inside of her drain away as she saw something far too familiar:

Someone who only wanted to protect her little sister.

Weiss slowly reached out and touched Yang on the shoulder. “Yang…? I believe you, alright? I don't want Ruby to get hurt either, and trust me, I'm already starting to get a pretty good idea of all the crazy shit that happens when you date a Keeper.

“But I'm entering that contest with her, and I'm going to keep on dating her, unless one or the both of us decide to break it off!”

Weiss carefully pulled off her mask. “Ruby's going to get hurt, Yang. You can't protect her from everything. And I know you know she doesn't want you to—even if you are her big sister.

“It's called the growing the fuck up, and there's nothing you can do about it.”

Weiss put her mask back on.

Yang looked down, defeated. “… If you two happen to win one of the big prizes, and you have to do the big victory kiss for the crowds, don't go full-on make out session, alright? The images my brain is offering are bad enough, I don’t need the reality broadcasted on live HoloVision for all of Avalon to see.”

“We won't, I promise,” Weiss replied. She looked away. “… Besides, we, uh, kinda know from firsthand experience that it's REALLY bad for me to get too excited...”

Yang looked at her in curiosity. “Why? What happens?”

Weiss slowly looked back at her. “… I accidentally freeze our lips together...”

Yang sniggered. “Well, at least I you're not giving her the cold shoulder, huh?”

Beat.

The both of them groaned.

“Oh, fuck me, that was a mistake...” Yang said, quietly gagging.

“Yes… yes it was...” Weiss grumbled.

They returned to their table, told the others that Yang had changed her mind and that she'd join the plan. “And just so we're clear here: this is only because I don't want Ruby to get in trouble,” she added as she and Weiss slipped back into their seats.

“That means she's starting to like you!” Ruby whispered as Weiss returned by her side.

Their food arrived shortly after. They could see Marty still being very suspicious of them, especially with how Weiss and Ruby noticeably kept their masks on as the others began to dig in, but thankfully the other server with him told him to knock it off.

“Geeze, Marty, lay off the shock news for a while! That shit's not good for you...” they muttered as they returned to the kitchen.

After a dinner spent with Weiss and Ruby's hoods up and heads down as they ate, they sent an entry picture of them for the contest:

The two of them in the center, satisfied and looking very much in love while the others were slumped over “dead” on the table, ketchup “bloodstains” everywhere.

Penny attached their fake identities, playfully captioned it “Dinner Date for the Keepers,” then sent it off before they paid their bill and left Fiorina's. Marty was still wary of them and none too pleased about the mess beside, but the generous tip Pyrrha convinced him to give it a rest, for now.

It had barely been five minutes when they got a message back from the officials:

“What amazing costumes and astoundingly bad taste! We love it, you're in.”

Note: As the author finally remembered, their saying “Sexy Animal Noise” in their “Dr. Nefarious” Voice.