#but maybe it’s for the best the amount of speeding tickets i’d get if that was possible…i’d get my license to zip and zoom taken away 💔

[merevide]

i want to rollerblade everywhere. kinda fucked up that i cannot rollerblade everywhere

[hmspogueobx]

Sunshine and Pine

Chapter Eleven: Protectors

You'd think at this speed the trees would be reduced to streaks of green. But not to the supernatural creatures that speed through this forest. I see every detail the whole run to the Cullens house. Once I'd shifted my mind had connected with Leah's and after a brief bout of cursing my mother on my behalf, she'd thought of Esme. There's no way I'd be able to afford a plane ticket to Italy. And while I could run and swim there, who knows how long that would take. I didn't know how long ago my mom had taken my dad, and I didn't want to add anymore time that I needed to. So I took off in the direction of the Cullens house, Paul and Leah hot on my heels.

Esme, Carlisle and Edward are already standing outside when we break through the treeline.

"Seth called us while you were running here. We hope this is enough. Anything we can do to help." Carlisle says, gesturing to the duffle bag in Esme's hands.

With Edward there to riffle through my head, he translates my thoughts out loud for them to hear.

"Thank you. Please know I plan to repay you when I can. "

Esme starts walking towards us. "Oh no! Please take it. We want to help you save your family, as you helped us save ours. There are already plane tickets for you in this front zipper. For the earliest flight we could find. It leaves soon, you should leave now if you're going to make it." Esme slips the strap of the bag into my mouth.

"I don't know what to say... Thank you." The sight of Esme standing several feet below me grows misty with the height of my emotion.

She reaches her hand out to rest on my cheek. "Go. Quickly now." And with one last nod of my head, I turn back into the forest.

------------------------------------

I can't believe the thought that Esme put into packing this bag. There's a change of clothes for all three of us, toiletries, and an absurd amount of cash. I hug it close to my chest while Paul weaves his way through the traffic outside the airport in Italy. I can see the silhouette of Volterra in the distance. This is the farthest I've ever traveled in my life, and the tension of the situation had me fidgeting in my seat the entire trip. I've barely said a word, and I can feel that it's driving Paul into madness. He keeps glancing over at me like I might explode at any minute, and honestly sometimes it feels like I might. Putting three freaked out werewolves in a pressurized container in the sky might not have been the best idea in retrospect.

"Ok Lucy, maybe we should start talking about a plan." Leah pipes up from the back seat, breaking the tense silence.

"Well my mom picked up my letter from a PO box. I have the address. I figure we'd follow her scent from there. I hadn't thought much past showing up at her door after that." My voice was just loud enough for them to hear.

"Oh perfect. I'm sure we'll just ring the doorbell and she'll let us right in, hand over your dad and off we go!" Leah quips.

"I don't want you guys to come with me. I won't let you walk into danger like that." I say, whipping my head around to Leah.

Paul lets out a growl. "Not a damn chance Lucy. I don't leave your side."

"You think we flew all the way out here with you to take in the sites? Get your head out of your ass. We love you, and we love your dad and we're going to get him and all go home together." Leah is almost shouting.

I reach one hand out to rest on Paul's leg, and throw the other back to grab Leah's hand on my shoulder, giving them a squeeze to let them know I hear them.

--------------------------

The sickly sweet smell of vampires runs in different tracks all over these damn streets. We were able to pick up my moms scent at the address she left in her first letter. But keeping it the whole way proves a difficult task. There are an insane number of different vampire scents weaving together through this city. None of these people have a clue the horror show they spend their lives in. I'm convinced I've lost my moms scent in the cloud of vampire stink, when a gust of wind blows the scent of my father into my brain. My back goes straight in anticipation and I tip my chin towards it as a cue for Paul and Leah to follow me.

We follow a winding path through the city, to a small house tucked away on the outskirts. The scents of my mom and dad mingle together all the way up the cobblestone walkway to the door. Paul is whispering at me to slow down and take a second to think about this, but I'm already turning the doorknob and bursting in. Any thoughts of stealth I'd had vanished at about hour three of our journey. The need to see my dad with color in his face, heart beating was too powerful for anything but brute force. I can hear the thud of a heart and hope and pray that it's his. The sight I'm greeted with when I turn the corner brings me relief and dread all together.

"Lucy, you made it after all." My mother's voice rings out. Just like Rosalie's beauty, my moms voice puts me on edge, like the honeysweet trap it is.

My father is sitting on the couch, eyes glossed over. Whatever trance my mother's put him in seems to be affecting him a lot more than it had done to me.

"What'd you spike his coffee with?" I spit at my mother.

"You should be careful how you talk to me, Lucy. One of these days that sharp tongue is going to get you into trouble you can't get out of." Her eyes become hard at my snarkiness. But she turns her gaze to my dad and keeps talking. "My gifts affect humans much more than they do supernatural beings. The mind of a human is weak, malleable, defenseless."

"Is this really what you wanted? What, you thought you'd brainwash us both and play house with your practically comatose family?" I snap.

"What I want is to keep my family where I can protect them. There are dangers coming that you couldn't even begin to comprehend."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of my mouth. "Really? Dangers? Dangers that might kidnap you and take you across the world against your will... poison your mind so it's not your own... You see what I'm getting at?"

"You have no idea what is to come, Lucy. I needed you both here where I could keep you safe. My power is unmatched. My mind is capable of amazing things"

The cautious tone in her voice makes me wonder what she knows that we don't. But the pure arrogance that follows brings a rage burning in my chest.

I move to step closer, but Paul's hand cinches down on my own while Leah's arm simultaneously flies across my chest like a mom in a car.

"In case I haven't made myself clear, we don't need your protection. You're the biggest danger in our lives right now. I'm not sure how you think bringing my human dad to this city is safer than Forks. I can barely breathe with all the vampire fumes in the air. It fucking reaks of leech."

My mom hisses beneath her breath at the insult, which brings out a protective growl from Paul.

"Because I am in control here. I am a high ranking member of the Volturi guard. Aro and Caius trust me. Forks is not the safe haven you believe it to be. You needed protection." My mom still seems to be hissing, her words are so sharp.

"Lucy has protectors." Paul snaps, he's clearly teetering on the edge of control and rampage.

"Ah, the boyfriend. The one who took my Lucy from me."

"Excuse me, nobody took me from anybody. You left me long before Paul came around." I glare at my mother.

Leah, who'd been quietly observing, assessing the situation, couldn't hold her tongue anymore.

"What happened to you? You aren't the Aunt I knew."

The briefest flicker of sadness flashes across my mother's face, but it's quickly replaced by a stone face. "A lot happened in the beginning of this life to make me this way. I'll spare you the details. The Volturi pulled me out of a very dark place, gave me a purpose."

Any sign of weakness she'd shown was long gone.

"So you're going to keep Uncle Joel here, paralyzed... for how long?" Leah asks.

"Oh, no no. I'm going to teach him to defend himself. I just needed to get him here because it's the safest place to do it."

"What do you mean?" Paul says. But I think I might know what she means, and my heart is in my throat.

"Well I can defend myself. Lucy is supernatural, she seems to be able to handle danger. But Joel is just a fragile human. That's no way to make it through this world. He'd want this." My moms words send a shiver down my spine.

"Don't you fuckin dare." My voice is dripping with venom.

"He'd want this? Really? Did you ask him before brainwashing him?" Leah is just as angry as me.

"Nobody asked me, but I'm quite content in this life." My mother says with a smirk. "I was just about to do it when you came bursting through my door. Which, by the way, I raised you better than that." She takes slow steps towards my father.

"Stop." Is all I can get out. My entire body is trembling so hard, my hair is starting to come loose from my ponytail. Her hand reaches out towards my dad at lightning speed and I lose it, my wolf exploding out. I lunge the last few steps towards her, throwing my muzzle at her and knocking her as far back as the room allows. At a blinding speed, she's twisting and twirling around trying to get past me. I hear Paul and Leah shift from somewhere behind me as well.

Leah plants herself in front of my dad. And Paul flanks my mother, snapping at her.

Before I can react she's staring into my eyes and I feel a familiar pull. But we've done this dance before. I know what to expect. Instead of letting her pull me into her mind, I focus on the beating hearts around me. The soft thudding of the three hearts of the most important people in my life. And I'm able to keep my mother at bay long enough for Paul to crash into her, knocking her to the ground.

She clearly spent most of her time training with her gift. Her game was mental, from a distance. The Volturi had some strong offensive players, they probably never even thought to teach her to fight like this. She'd been so focused on overpowering me with her gift, she hadn't thought to keep her guard up to the other physical threats around her.

My mother's voice is slightly strained from the weight of Paul's foot on her chest. "Lucy, it has to be this way. He knows about us. It's our only law. Aro will kill him."

All three of us are growling at her now, deafeningly loud.

My mother snarls and uses all of her strength to wiggle loose from Paul's grip. She manages to wiggle free and fake Paul out to slip past him. She's in the air jumping past me, and I launch myself at her, snapping my jaw around her leg. Leah leaps forward to lock her teeth into my mother's shoulder. The deafening sound of screeching metal rings in my ears as the two of us come down on the ground hard, and watch as each piece of my mother comes down beside us.

[womanatlaw]

pfftttt...   “  define..  nobody.  “   it’s the dead of night  &  the building @mercred  &  i stood in—front of,  was in foreclosure for surrrrre.  had the chained link fence,  nailed up blanks,  signs,  overgrown lawn & beat down,  ‘abandoned vibe’ to prove that awful fact but..  the lights reflecting under the window-pane tell a different story.  i’d go as far as hopin’ it’s just an unhoused person,  making the best with what they’ve got.  i’ve been there..  college,  livin’ in my car for a couple months without much to my name besides ramen in bulk  &  an ungodly amount of parking tickets  (  now paid off  &  fully housed,  don’t worry  …  ).   but the point is:  i get the need to use a vessel no one else is usin’  —  it only makes sense.  &  my gut tells me something more sinister is behind those boards.  fingers reach down  &  pull back metal suffrage,  the groan of material giving way was enough to switch focus over to wade.  there was no going back now,  it was all..  semi-illegal from here.   [   well,  it didn't have to be.   if given a few minutes,  i could get a warrant,  actually..   judge henry's on speed-dial but would he be awake  (?)   hmmm....  ]   i cut my own thought off with slight humor,   “  you think they’re friendly  ..  (?)  “  rhetorical question  /  kinda.  not many were friendly after dark,  especially when disturbed..  we’d find that out soon enough,  huh.  or..  maybe i should hope not.  yeah.  hope not.  

⚠️ㅤ … nobody's supposed to be here.

[codehunter]

Memory efficient (constant) and speed optimized iteration over a large table in Django

I have a very large table.It's currently in a MySQL database.I use django.

I need to iterate over each element of the table to pre-compute some particular data (maybe if I was better I could do otherwise but that's not the point).

I'd like to keep the iteration as fast as possible with a constant usage of memory.

As it is already clearly in Limiting Memory Use in a *Large* Django QuerySet and Why is iterating through a large Django QuerySet consuming massive amounts of memory?, a simple iteration over all objects in django will kill the machine as it will retrieve ALL objects from the database.

Towards a solution

First of all, to reduce your memory consumption you should be sure DEBUG is False (or monkey patch the cursor: turn off SQL logging while keeping settings.DEBUG?) to be sure django isn't storing stuff in connections for debug.

But even with that,

for model in Model.objects.all()

is a no go.

Not even with the slightly improved form:

for model in Model.objects.all().iterator()

Using iterator() will save you some memory by not storing the result of the cache internally (though not necessarily on PostgreSQL!); but will still retrieve the whole objects from the database, apparently.

A naive solution

The solution in the first question is to slice the results based on a counter by a chunk_size. There are several ways to write it, but basically they all come down to an OFFSET + LIMIT query in SQL.

something like:

qs = Model.objects.all()counter = 0count = qs.count()while counter < count: for model in qs[counter:counter+count].iterator() yield model counter += chunk_size

While this is memory efficient (constant memory usage proportional to chunk_size), it's really poor in term of speed: as OFFSET grows, both MySQL and PostgreSQL (and likely most DBs) will start choking and slowing down.

A better solution

A better solution is available in this post by Thierry Schellenbach.It filters on the PK, which is way faster than offsetting (how fast probably depends on the DB)

pk = 0last_pk = qs.order_by('-pk')[0].pkqueryset = qs.order_by('pk')while pk < last_pk: for row in qs.filter(pk__gt=pk)[:chunksize]: pk = row.pk yield row gc.collect()

This is starting to get satisfactory. Now Memory = O(C), and Speed ~= O(N)

Issues with the "better" solution

The better solution only works when the PK is available in the QuerySet. Unluckily, that's not always the case, in particular when the QuerySet contains combinations of distinct (group_by) and/or values (ValueQuerySet).

For that situation the "better solution" cannot be used.

Can we do better?

Now I'm wondering if we can go faster and avoid the issue regarding QuerySets without PK.Maybe using something that I found in other answers, but only in pure SQL: using cursors.

Since I'm quite bad with raw SQL, in particular in Django, here comes the real question:

how can we build a better Django QuerySet Iterator for large tables

My take from what I've read is that we should use server-side cursors (apparently (see references) using a standard Django Cursor would not achieve the same result, because by default both python-MySQL and psycopg connectors cache the results).

Would this really be a faster (and/or more efficient) solution?

Can this be done using raw SQL in django? Or should we write specific python code depending on the database connector?

Server Side cursors in PostgreSQL and in MySQL

That's as far as I could get for the moment...

a Django chunked_iterator()

Now, of course the best would have this method work as queryset.iterator(), rather than iterate(queryset), and be part of django core or at least a pluggable app.

Update Thanks to "T" in the comments for finding a django ticket that carry some additional information. Differences in connector behaviors make it so that probably the best solution would be to create a specific chunked method rather than transparently extending iterator (sounds like a good approach to me).An implementation stub exists, but there hasn't been any work in a year, and it does not look like the author is ready to jump on that yet.

Additional Refs:

Why does MYSQL higher LIMIT offset slow the query down?

How can I speed up a MySQL query with a large offset in the LIMIT clause?

http://explainextended.com/2009/10/23/mysql-order-by-limit-performance-late-row-lookups/

postgresql: offset + limit gets to be very slow

Improving OFFSET performance in PostgreSQL

http://www.depesz.com/2011/05/20/pagination-with-fixed-order/

How to get a row-by-row MySQL ResultSet in python Server Side Cursor in MySQL

Edits:

Django 1.6 is adding persistent database connections

Django Database Persistent Connections

This should facilitate, under some conditions, using cursors. Still it's outside my current skills (and time to learn) how to implement such a solution..

Also, the "better solution" definitely does not work in all situations and cannot be used as a generic approach, only a stub to be adapted case by case...

https://codehunter.cc/a/django/memory-efficient-constant-and-speed-optimized-iteration-over-a-large-table-in-django

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 3: Bukkake

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Primarily Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader and Lucy Boynton x Fem!Reader + also Lucy Boynton x Rami Malek + Gwilym Lee + Joe Mazzello

Words: 4,881

Warnings: bukkake (obviously), oral sex (f receiving), 69ing, cumplay, vibrators, some overstimulation, degredation (being called a slut).

A/N: This is something of a sequel to The Dinner Party. As soon as I saw bukkake was an option for day 3 I knew I had to do something with the borhap boys and then I’m too much of a whore to leave out Lucy so here we are lmao.

The day after the dinner party was a mostly quiet one. Ben treated you to a massage which was very appreciated, and then spent the rest of the day showering you in affection, ignoring your protests that you should be thanking him since he’d helped you live one of your biggest fantasies. You spent a long while talking about it too, going over everything in more detail now that you were in a better headspace to think properly. You talked through the emotions the scene had brought up and how close it came to what you’d been imagining. Ben confided which parts he’d liked most and which parts had made him worried and how he’d come close to safe wording once, when Joe had been spanking you. But for the most part he’d enjoyed it as much as you had and you agreed that neither of you would be opposed to something similar happening again. Although you also agreed that if it was a one-off event that would be okay too.   

Everyone remained in London for some weeks though it was hard to organise a group hang out again. You did meet up with everyone individually – Rami and Lucy joined you when Ben bought tickets to the ballet, you met Joe for dinner and drinks, and played a round of golf with Gwil – but it was difficult to find a time you were all free again. And not for lack of trying. It just seemed as if half of you were always busy at any one time. Lucy kept pushing though, eager to see everyone again, and eventually the planets aligned. A meeting fell through here, a lunch was rescheduled there, and all of a sudden everyone was free. There was some back and forth in the group chat about where to meet but eventually it was decided that your place would serve best again. It felt as if everyone was being careful not to reference the last time they’d all come over. It had felt like that every time you’d seen any of them. The most anyone had said was that dinner had been nice and it was good to catch up. But neither you nor Ben were keen to be the ones that brought it up either. For one thing you didn’t want to seem as if you were fishing for compliments, but there was also the uncertainty about far they’d read into such a comment. But even with the slight awkwardness, neither of you had any complaints about hosting everyone again.   

There was a lot less to prepare this time around, just a small afternoon tea rather than a full dinner. Ben did a run to the store to pick up a few necessities like milk and bread and a bag of apples so you could whip up a simple teacake. You had a quick tidy-up but didn’t need to go to the same amount of effort you’d required to set up for the dinner party. You didn’t have to worry about moving the furniture around, or dressing provocatively, or digging out sex toys, or anything like that. And when everyone arrived you sat around the living room on whichever chairs were available with mugs of tea or coffee, chatting casually, and snacking on sandwiches and cake. Some wine and bottles of beer got opened but that was as raucous as the afternoon seemed likely to get. At least, until an hour or so in when there was a lull in the conversation.   

For a moment all the talk seemed to stop. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. The silence was perfectly tolerable if a little odd considering how many of you there were. You were just about to ask Gwil how the project he was working on was going when Lucy spoke up.   “So that dinner party was fun.” She said, her eyes flicking from you to Ben and back again.   There was a chorus of agreement from everyone else and you giggled, knowing they were all thinking about what it had felt like to fuck you. Ben slowly lowered his beer bottle without it having reached his lips fully and your heartbeat sped up, wondering if they’d have more to say.   “I just have one small regret about the night,”   “Oh?” You felt as if every cell in your body had frozen in anticipation, wondering what Lucy might have regrets about. Had she disliked something that had happened?   “Well,” Lucy took a sip of her wine as if to fortify herself a little, “I wish we’d made out more. We could have made a show of it for the boys.”   Your body had started to work again but at twice the speed, your stomach somersaulting at the suggestion. You tried to keep your voice level, “Y-yeah, that, um, that probably would have been fun.”   Ben’s head had whipped around to look at you and in your peripheral vision you saw Gwil and Rami exchange looks. The same thought was on everybody’s mind but they were waiting for you. Slowly you turned to look at Ben too, already able to see the excitement in his eyes, “What do you say Benny? You okay to watch Me and Luce?”   “Uh,” he cleared his throat and nodded, “Yeah I’d like that a lot.”   “Rami?” you asked, sure he’d already have talked it through with Lucy but wanting to give him a chance to voice any discomfort, “Do you mind if I kiss your girlfriend?”   He chuckled softly, “No, I don’t mind at all.”   “Okay,” you glanced again at Lucy who had eagerly watched the whole exchange, and then back to Ben who nodded at you and took charge of the situation.    “Right. Lads, help me move the furniture a bit so the girls have some room. Babe, go and get a couple of blankets or sheets or something so that we don’t end up with spunk in the carpet.”   You hopped up and hurried to the bedroom as everyone else began rearranging the furniture. Lucy followed you and, to your surprise, so did Ben. He grabbed the pillows from your bed, pulling their covers off so they could be replaced with fresh ones as you dug through the cupboard for some clean sheets.   “Right, what did you ladies have in mind?” he asked softly as you all busied yourselves.   “Well, I guess, maybe me and Lucy will make out-”   “More,” Lucy cut in, “Not just making out, I want to fuck you.”   You gulped, “Okay. Me and Lucy will fuck and you guys can all watch and jack off over us. How does that sound?”   Lucy nodded enthusiastically, “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”   Ben’s eyes flicked between you but he nodded, “That's what I assumed. Just to be clear though, nothing else?”  “What did you have in mind?” Lucy asked slyly, “I’d be up for blowing you guys too if you wanted.”  Ben laughed, though his cheeks flushed pink, “I wasn’t suggesting anything. In fact, I was going to say it’s probably safer if we put a no touch rule in place. I mean if you want things to be more like last time, obviously I’d be into that and I know Y/N would be too.”  You nodded agreement.  “But this is very spur of the moment, and a lot of planning went into last time. I’d at least want to talk to Rami about offering any, well,”  “Any of our holes?” You suggested, making Ben flush more.  “Yes, that.” He said with a small laugh, “It’s probably better if it’s a look but don’t touch situation. Unless you had other ideas.”  “No, that makes sense,” Lucy said, “I did talk with Rami about it already but the idea of me being shared around wasn’t brought up, it was just about everyone watching me and Y/N.”  “Then I think it’s for the best if we stick with that.”  “Yeah, whatever you guys are most comfortable with,” Lucy said, “As long as I still get to play with Y/N’s cunt.”  Ben smiled at having such a statement addressed to him, but he could see your excitement at the idea and was happy to agree on your behalf.    “Right well, I’m going to go make sure Rami knows whats going on. Why don’t you two go and get these sheets spread out, make it comfy for yourselves, and then I’ll go over the rules so everyone hears them and we can get started.”   You pulled Ben into a quick kiss, “Thanks babe. Love you.”   “Go on, go set up.” He laughed, handing Lucy the newly covered pillows, “Who knew we had two sluts in the group.” 

By the time you returned to the main room it looked quite different. The coffee table had been shifted aside, butting up against a wall out of the way. The couch, arm chair and a few spare seats from around the dining table had been rearranged too, creating something of a circle. Ben pulled Rami aside and you were momentarily distracted watching them chat, until Lucy threw a pillow at your head to get your attention. Laughing again, a little giddy with excitement, you helped her spread out the sheets, laying the pillows in the centre. She observed what you’d created with her hands on her hips.   “There, that should do. How you feel about toys? Got a double ended dildo we could use?”   “Ummm, nothing like that. Theres a regular dildo though and a vibrator. Plus y’know, cuffs and paddles and that.”   Lucy shook her head, “What about that one with the remote we used on you last time?”   “Yeah, I’ve still got that. What are you thinking?”   “I’m thinking the boys could control it. And maybe grab the other vibe too?”   You agreed and hurried back to the bedroom as Ben gathered everyone’s attention to explain the rules of the evening.    “So Lucy and Y/N have graciously offered to be tonight's entertainment but there’s to be no touching involved. You are allowed to talk to them, give them suggestions, make comments about them, call them derogatory names – the same sort of thing as last time. And, of course, you’re encouraged to enjoy yourselves fully and have a cheeky wank while watching them. As long as you keep your hands to yourself. Um, what else,” Ben paused as he watched you re-join Lucy in the middle of the circle, “There is lube, if you’d like to use it. And if you are going to cum, try to aim for the girls or at least the sheets and not our furniture or carpet. Of course you can also-”   You stopped listening as Lucy tugged you down to the floor, situating herself above you so she was straddling your waist. She grabbed your wrists as you reached out to touch her, pushing them over your head and pinning them against the floor as she leaned down to kiss you.   You couldn’t help but arch into her, Ben’s voice calling you a slut still ringing in your ears, as you tried to deepen the kiss. 

Ben had long stopped talking, all four of the guys completely focused on you and Lucy. You were vaguely aware of the sounds of them getting comfortable as Lucy let your wrists go. She sat up straighter and drew her dress over her head, revealing the matching bra and panties she wore.    “Came prepared?” you asked which just made her laugh.  “Now you,” she said, shuffling back so she could strip you too. You hadn’t put in as much effort with your underwear, not having expected to show it off for anyone other than Ben, but someone still let out a long low whistle of appreciation.  Lucy giggled as she resettled herself on your hips and leaned down to kiss you again, distracting you as her hand reached for the vibrator.   You jolted as she pressed it against your clothed clit, holding it there until you let out a soft hum of pleasure. And then, just as soon as it had started it stopped. Lucy sat up again and looked around at the entranced men, all of whom seemed to be a little dazed.   “Well c’mon boys. We wanna see your cocks.”   There was a sharp intake of breath and then you heard zips lowering as each of them complied with Lucy’s request.    She just grinned at you.  

You had enough time to glance around and see Ben in one chair, slowly stroking his semi-hard dick, before Lucy surprised you with the vibrator again. She held it against you, turning up the speed of the vibrations and using the tip to draw circles over your clit as you squirmed underneath her. Rocking forward Lucy let out her own soft hum of pleasure as she rubbed herself against the vibrator too.  From somewhere above you came a soft groan from one of the boys, though it was hard to tell who exactly when Lucy was once again adjusting the speed of the toy. She turned it up a notch, the buzzing getting louder as the speed increased, and held it firmly in place. Her other hand rested against your thigh so her back was arched slightly as she rocked against the toy, both of you keening and moaning softly as it drew you towards the edge.   You came first, mouth falling open as you shuddered with the orgasm, but Lucy kept the vibrator in place until she’d reached her peak too. She didn’t take much longer than you did but it was long enough to have you whining as the pleasure teetered on the edge of pain. You felt nearly breathless as she shut it off and put it aside.  

Looking up at your captive audience, Lucy asked, “What would you fellers like to see me do to the slut next?”  It was quiet for a bit. You waited, still trying to catch your breath, to see if anyone would comment on your fate.  After a moment Joe spoke up, “I think you shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses Luce. You’re as much of a slut as Y/N.”  Lucy laughed, “Fair point. So then what would you like to watch two sluts do?”  Joe didn’t even pause, “I think you should 69.”  “That does sound fun,” Lucy said, already reaching for your knickers, “Someone unclasp my bra for me?”  You let her work your underpants down your legs, watching as Joe happily stood up to help Lucy with her bra. She shucked it off and stood to remove her panties which gave you time to rid yourself of your own bra, leaving you both naked.   The next thing you knew as you settled back against the pillow, was Lucy lowering herself over your lips and the salty sweet tang on your tongue as you licked along her wet slit.   She hummed in response, and rocked against you, cooing about how good you were and how you were going to make her cum again, encouraging you to delve deeper and taste more of her.   “I said 69 Luce,” Came Joe’s voice and then she lowered her head to your pussy too, her breath warm as she lightly licked along your lips. 

Knowing that there were so many eyes on you was definitely a turn on, especially when you could hear the boys. They made comments about you and Lucy, calling you good sluts for keeping them entertained, grunting about how hot it was to watch as they stroked themselves. And then there was the sound of their strokes too, hands on skin, occasionally assisted by the wet of lube or spit. You could hear their hisses and hitched breaths mixed in with Lucy’s own sounds as she spread your lips with her fingers and lapped up your juices. The only problem was that Lucy’s ministrations were too light. Her tongue and lips felt nice as she traced them along your slit and flicked against your clit, but you wished she’d be a little firmer or faster. To compensate, or maybe in an attempt to demonstrate what you wanted, you sucked harder, pressed your tongue more firmly to her cunt. Which just made her climax sooner. She moaned when she hit her release, still bent over you but breaking contact so you were left wishing she’d just keep going.   She rode out her orgasm on your face and then sighed with satisfaction as she crawled off you.  “Lucy,” you pouted, wiping your mouth, “I didn’t finish.”  She clicked her tongue and mockingly pouted back as she knelt between your legs, “Boo hoo.” Her fingers lightly traced along your lower stomach, making you shiver, “You already came once, isn’t that enough.”  “I’d prefer more.”  She let her hand trail lower, down to your clit, “Hmm, my mistake.”  And then all of a sudden she was pressing two of her fingers into you, making you gasp. With her free hand she spread your lips open, offering the others a clear view of her fingers disappearing into your hole, all the while teasing you for being so wet and so desperate for more.  You moaned as she adjusted her pace, speeding up, fucking you hard and fast with her two digits, but it wasn’t enough to get you close to orgasm.   “Please,” you whined after a little while, but Lucy only laughed, continuing to finger you in the same way for a few more strokes before suddenly pulling out.  

Before you could so much as open your mouth to swear, Lucy was pushing something new into you.  Your voice cracked with your moan as she turned the egg on, the vibrations hitting all the spots Lucy hadn’t hit before. You were aware of Lucy kneeling over you as you writhed on the floor, unable to escape the constant stimulation. But, as you drew closer to the edge, it became harder and harder to take in what was happening around you. You were vaguely aware of one of the boys groaning but otherwise you were completely oblivious to the rest of the group, entirely consumed by your cunt and the release you’d so craved washing over you. Even when Gwil stood up aimed his cock at you, rapidly jerking himself until his semen painted your stomach, you barely had any clue it was happening. No one had stopped the egg, no one had slowed it. You gasped Lucy’s name, trying to tell her it was becoming too much but she didn’t answer. It wasn’t her fault though. You were too distracted to notice that Joe had gripped Lucy’s hair and pulled her around to face him. As you clutched at the sheets and wailed to god, Joe was groaning through his own orgasm, one hand holding Lucy in place so that not a drop missed her face. You only became aware that Lucy no longer had the controls when Ben shoved her down and told her to suck on your tits. Whoever had taken the controller from her, or picked it up when she dropped it, was kind enough to slow the vibrations to a less consistent pattern but they didn’t turn it off. Instead you experienced brief moments of piece between the harsh seconds of high intensity vibrations. And on top of that your nipple was enveloped by the warm wet of Lucy’s mouth. Joe’s cum spread from her cheeks and lips to your skin as she mouthed and kissed at every inch of your breasts. It must have made for a nice show because before long Ben was splattering his seed over Lucy’s back as Rami sprayed cum over your neck and into your mouth as you opened it to scream through another orgasm.  

When the egg did stop, you were panting for air. Lucy was on her knees again, facing away from you and giggling as she drew her fingers across her cheek and licked them clean, clearly putting on a show for the boys.   “You guys really must like seeing us be so slutty,” she laughed and you saw Ben and Gwil nod in unison. Gwil was already hard again, slowly stroking himself once more though Ben clearly needed some more time to recover. Sitting up, you glanced around and saw Rami watching you as Joe examined the controls of the egg. An idea had already formed as to how to get some revenge upon Lucy and so you held your finger to your lips before either Rami or Joe could give you away. Joe winked and Rami broke into a smile as you reached out for the discarded vibrator and quietly shuffled towards Lucy, her back still marked with Ben’s cum. Of course, both Ben and Gwil spotted you creeping up but they held their silence, Gwil telling Lucy to open her legs a little wider as if it would help get him off again. She obliged, her focus entirely on his weeping cock as she absentmindedly touched her pussy.   “I know I’m not allowed to touch you,” Gwil said, “but I think it would be alright if you helped me out, don’t you?”  “I suppose that would be okay,” Lucy said, hesitating for half a second before drawing her wet hand away from herself and reaching up to grasp Gwil’s cock.   It gave you the perfect opportunity to close the distance between you and to press the tip of the vibrator against her hole,quickly pushing it in as you turned it on. It didn’t come up against much resistance, wet as she was.   “What the f-oh!” She gasped as you thrust the buzzing toy in and out of her, adjusting the angle until her legs tensed and she moaned. And then you held it there as she dropped her hand and tried to bat you away. You tutted in her ear and told her you were just repaying her for what she’d done to you, beginning to properly fuck her with the toy, keeping it angled to hit whatever spot you’d located that she clearly enjoyed. The sight of you pumping the vibrator into Lucy’s pussy as you reached around to palm at her breasts obviously worked for Ben, his cock getting stiffer before your eyes. You heard Joe and Rami move towards you as well, though you couldn’t see how eagerly they watched as Lucy cried out and came.  You felt very pleased with yourself for about a second before the egg jolted to life inside you again and you matched Lucy’s cry with your own, your hand slipping from the end of the vibrator. It stayed inside Lucy for a little longer, her cunt clenching so hard that it kept the toy in place, but before long it had slipped from her, still buzzing where it lay on the sheets.  Joe still held the controls for the egg and adjusted them constantly, making the egg buzz higher and lower and stop and start so that you were barely feeling it beyond brief bursts of pain tinged pleasure.  “Fuck that was hot,” Gwil grunted, his thumb spreading precum over his tip and down his length, “Both of you sluts looks at me.”  You dragged your eyes up to his cock, watching how his fist sped up as he got closer and closer and then finally came again, making sure to hit you and Lucy’s chests. 

There was a cheer as you felt yourself be manhandled into facing Lucy. She winked at you and bent forward to lick the cum from your tits, keeping it on her tongue so that when she kissed you, you could taste it. It mingled with her saliva and yours, streaked over your lips as Lucy deepened the kiss, making sure her tongue met yours so she could share every drop. What sperm had newly been spread over Lucy’s chest soon smeared across yours as she pulled your in close, your nipples brushing as you got drunk on her kiss. You were still feeling buzzes from the egg inside you though you doubted Joe still had the controller since the pattern was no longer as random. However, Lucy had no toy shoved inside her cunt to keep her on edge. Instead she manoeuvred so that her pussy pressed against your thigh, leaving a wet trail where she dragged it over your skin.   You automatically lay a hand on Lucy’s back to hold you steady, inadvertently spreading the cum that had been left over her.   That did it for Ben who grunted as he dripped more cum over you and Lucy as you made out.  “Go on Luce, pin the whore and grind your cunts together.” Rami suggested, clearly enjoying seeing his girlfriend on top of someone else.   She didn’t need to be asked twice, gladly pressing you to the sheet again and climbing on top.   All you could do was whine at the inconsistent vibrations within you, looking up as Lucy pressed her pussy against yours, their slick mixing as she gyrated her hips. And then you felt it. Lucy had reached for the still on vibrator that had fallen from her. She pressed it between you and at the same moment, whoever now held the controller for the egg vibrator turned it up so that you felt the buzzing from inside and out. You screamed at the combination of sensations, pinned under Lucy and unable to escape.   Lucy was moaning too, getting off on you. And you felt a sticky kind of wetness as Rami’s orgasm landed on your mound. Lucy used her fingers to spread it across her pussy and then continued to grind against you, the white of his release adding to the creamy wetness that already existed from both your cunts.   You were the next to cum, unable to hold off as the egg got louder and faster. And then Joe who didn’t seem too fussed about aiming for either of you. His cum spilt onto the sheets around you but neither of you noticed. You were too busy whining as you once again became overstimulated and Lucy was entirely distracted by her quest for a final orgasm. By the time she reached it you were nearly crying, but thankfully she shook with her well earned climax and then slipped from you to lay on the floor.  

Ben had already zipped himself away and was quick to catch the vibrator and turn it off as whoever had the controls mercifully switched yours off as well.  You hissed when you tried to move, the egg still rubbing the sensitive spot but Ben hushed you and gently removed it from your pulsing pussy.   “Joe, Gwil. D’you guys want to get everyone some water?” He asked, though it wasn’t really a question.  They agreed and you heard their footsteps disappear through the doorway. Once they’d gone, Rami helped Lucy up as Ben helped you, leaning in to kiss your forehead softly.  “Are you both okay?” Rami asked, concern written in his features.  Lucy said yes as you nodded and, satisfied, they assisted you towards the bathroom, letting you each lean against them as you walked slowly.  Ben tried to insist on helping you clean up but you told him it was fine and shut the door so that you and Lucy could run some warm water and clear away the evidence of your debauchery.   Lucy laughed, seeming less worn by the second, as you scrubbed her back clean with a flannel, “That was a lot of fun.”  “Yeah it was. Really glad you suggested it.”  “Good. I was a little worried you wouldn't go for it after last time.”  “Are you kidding? Me and Ben were both kind of wondering if anyone would want to do something like that again. But we didn’t want to just ask for it in case it seemed like that was the only reason we’d want to hang out.”  “Think it’s safe to say everyone would be on board if you ever suggested a dinner party again.”  You laughed too, “Yeah, I think you’re right. 

Rami knocked on the door as you were washing yourselves so he could return your clothes to you and by the time you were both redressed the living room was almost back to normal. The chairs were still rearranged but no one seemed too bothered by it. When the boys realised you and Lucy were coming back, a round of applause broke out. You laughed, a little embarrassed, but gave a bow as if you were completing a performance, Lucy joining in beside you. She made her way to the couch where Rami sat, curling up and laying her head in his lap as she finally relaxed. You found Ben, sure you weren’t going to have the same emotional reaction you’d had to the events of the dinner party but wanting to be near him just in case. He was in an arm chair so you climbed onto his lap, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you.   You felt tired and a little sore but very very satisfied and your heart was nearly bursting with how lucky you were to know such a wonderful group of people.   Ben’s hand was warm and heavy where it rested on your side but you didn’t mind. It was comforting. As was the gentle rumble of his chest as he spoke, laughing with Joe about something as if there hadn’t been an interruption 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[youcouldmakealife]

YCMAL Superlatives Write-ins (rd 1)

Been cracking up at some of the write-ins for the YCMAL superlatives, and pleasure’s best shared!

Best to be stuck with on a desert island:

Scratch but just because I love him

There's definitely characters who would be helpful for survival but I honestly just think Jess would be good company; we could panic uselessly together

Oleg—smart, not chaotic, knows people with boats

Liam (because I’d never be alone with my thoughts)

Don Matheson (can cook, has handyman skills, good level of snark...)

Mike (paradoxically, best survival skills)

Worst to be stuck with on a desert island:

Harry "very few practical life skills but very loud opinions" Chalmers

Seb (can you imagine the sheer amount of TALKING)

Joey, adore him but that boy has zero survival skills

Liam - when driving you crazy is his only form of entertainment

Kiro. I love him, but hell no.

LIAM!!! (Imagine Liam hungry, bored, sunburned and without Mike! You are welcome)

No longer allowed to be locker room DJ:

That list is too long.

Jake post break up with david

WE KNOW ABOUT THE NICKELBACK, LUKE

Playoff Willy

Marc (he'd probably play an NPR podcast or something)

Julius (Finnish death metal no thank you)

Most likely to get a speeding ticket:

Bryce (except if Jared’s in the car)

Bryce (if he isn't in the top 4 I'll eat my shoe)

These are young, rich athletes. It's a lot of them.

Sebastien Boucher (self explanatory?)

Marc and Charlie (they share this trait yes?)

Most likely to drive EXACTLY the speed limit:

David Chapman- actually, he would probably drive under the speed limit...

David, if he literally ever learned how to drive. Maybe Jake just by virtue of having David in his passenger seat judging him

David. Is that a question.

Jared Matheson (just bc David Chapman doesn’t drive)

Most likely to be the one in the middle of locker room nonsense:

Scratch and money are one person, right?

Scratchnmoney

Derek (like, canonically)

Sandro (he started the locker room nonsense)

Joey Joey Joey followed closely by Kiro (they should never meet)

ScratchMoney, I guess Joey if they don't count as one person

Least likely to get involved in locker room nonsense:

They all live in the locker room, and all of them have canonically gotten involved in nonsense, no winner

Oleg Kurmazov (best boy)

Mike (pre-Liam)

Mike Brouwer (dare you to even try to get him involved)

Most likely to venmo you $1.67 If they owe you $1.67:

Robbie (but only to Georgie)

Stephen, passive aggressively

Robbie, out of pettiness

Harry (my petty boy)

David because he thinks that's polite, Jared because he knows it's rude

Most likely to forget they owe you ANYTHING:

Benson (fuck him)

Jake. But he'll take you out for dinner/drinks the next time he sees you.

fucking benson

Bryce Marcus-Matheson (never expects to be paid back and therefore forgets to pay others back all the time)

My girl Charlie growing up in that house (mansion)

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging. 

////////

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and  being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check,  then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet,  handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

        “could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor.  You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that  usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

[sebbybooks]

Never Mine

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

Part One

"With my dog as my witness, to whoever was riding my ass if they didn't back off my bumper I was going to stop in the middle of the road and rip their windshield wipers completely off!"

That type of anger coiled around me like a snake, because there was nothing that bugged me more than someone driving bumper to bumper. The long and exasperated breath I just released helped ease the tension out of my body temporarily. Just in time for reason to settle in. Though in reality it wasn't like I was actually going to jump out of my car and confront this road demon. Who clearly needed to take a course on etiquettes of the road. What I did know was that whoever was behind the wheel of the car had headlights that were so blinding I am sure extraterrestrials in space could spot them.

Trying to find the calm in the situation I focused on the road ahead of me. What little road I could see for that matter. Which wasn't exactly much. I had checked the forecast earlier in the day with the report of it showing that there was to be only clear and blue skies. By the amount of downpour before me you would think there was a tear in the sky if that was how rain fell. I just needed to hang tight for a few more miles until I reached my exit to stop for the night.

I had been driving for nine consecutive hours and it wasn't until the third hour I realized I was not cut out for long distance driving. The plane ticket I turned down from my father was starting to look like a missed opportunity. I opted out for Cooper's sake. I just rescued the little guy a few short weeks ago and I didn't have the heart to leave him alone so soon.

Despite having only six more hours of this painful drive I needed out of my car. A hot shower and a bed was calling my name like a siren's call was to a dazed sailor at sea. I was fervidly drawn to it. Granted, I wasn't exactly going the speed limit in my own defense. Simply because I chose to be a cautious driver not a careless one unlike the dip shit behind me. Cooper and I were going to get to Sonoma, California in one piece if I had anything to do with it! I had no intention to speed in the rain even if it annoyed the person behind me. After all I was driving down a one lane road there was literally nothing else I could do but drive forward.

Taking a glance up at my trusty Garmin my gps projected that at this rate I wouldn't make it to my hotel for another hour and a half. Ahead of me the sky was starting to look like a terrifying shade of gray and to top it off the dismal weather was becoming more and more hard to drive in. I could barely see the paint on the pavement. My defrosters seemed to have given up on me as I began to notice that my rearview mirror fogged up as though it was twilight hour.

I needed to pull over to try to wait out the heavy rainfall. The only problem was that I did not know where I was nor could I see where the road even had an end. The cheap gas station coffee was starting to wear off and the pep talks could no longer motivate me. The words of encouragement quickly transitioned into self deprecating quips of "I can not fucking do this!"

I was too far from home to turn back now and hearing a lecture from my dad despite being well beyond the ages of even receiving one, certainly would not stop him from scolding at my absence. I am more than certain that fiancée number three would not mind if I missed their prenuptial celebration. Especially if arriving on time meant I would be showing up dismembered. It was official I was going to die in this storm.

All of sudden like I called upon a bad omen my tiny Kia Forte jerked forward. I thought I accidentally stomped on the gas pedal too hard without realizing it. When it happened again I knew exactly what it was. Clearly the driver had mistaken this for a game of bumper cars. I laid the palm of my hand on the center of my steering wheel and relentlessly pressed my horn. Not sure what that was going to necessarily ward off , but I had to try something in the efforts that they would leave me alone.

Cooper's head shot up from his bed in the backseat. He looked just as displeased and annoyed as I felt. Why wouldn't they slow down? Is the question I could not figure out. I don't know if it was all the Stephen King that I read, but my paranoia was increasing as I started to settle on the possibility that they were now following me.

Maybe I was tired?

Maybe my imagination truly was getting the best of me?

Or maybe whoever that person was also suddenly decided to take the same random exit as I was taking.

I didn't think. I veered my car off to the right and got on the first breakaway from this seemingly endless road. I had no idea where I was headed at this point and neither did my Garmin. It made multiple attempts to reroute itself, but even that could not locate where I was. I took an unexpected detour by driving off into the middle of nowhere with a now stalker in my midsts.

Adrenaline now filling up my bloodstream. I gave my steering wheel the death grip and drove as fast as the tire tracks of my car would guide me. On a midsize billboard to my left I saw a logo for a gas station and a non franchised bed & breakfast saying it was right up the road. I was taking a chance by trusting that the establishment was clean and safe. I just needed to go where a crowd of people would be. The battery on my phone was likely dead and yes this was now becoming the opening sequence for a King novel. I'd laugh if my heart wasn't fluttering as fast a hummingbird's wing.

I managed to make out lights ahead as I neared the petrol station first. However, it just about looked abandoned. The dim white lights flickered around the desolate parking lot. I saw only two freight trucks parked side by side and I immediately thought

. . .hell no.

I kept driving forward in the hopes that the bed and breakfast sign wasn't last updated in the early nineties. I nearly combusted from relief when I finally saw it. Several cars and mini vans lined up with people inside of them probably doing the same thing that I was. I didn't plan on staying the night I just planned on staying long enough to hide out from the rain and from the trouble that still followed my trails.

Luckily there were free parking spaces close to the entrance. It was still hard to make out what the place truly looked like. From my view in the car the rain made it look like it was a melting oil painting. In a swift motion I put my car in park, turned my ignition off, reached in the back to grab Cooper and grabbed ahold of my purse in the other arm. I bolted out of my car for the door.

It felt as though I was running through a hurricane. I was completely drenched. I could barely keep my eyes from closing as I ran up the slippery steps in my worn Toms praying that I wouldn't eat concrete. There was an awning over the door that offered relief from the storm's cruel embrace . Looking down at the fuzzy brown welcome mat I noticed a quote was scribbled out on it.

"some beautiful paths

can't be discovered without getting lost."

As I reached for the doorknob I couldn't help but notice the intricate design. I'm aware of how wrong the timing was to fawn over something so utterly mundane. I just could not conceal the fact that I was a sucker for antiques roadshow and architectural designing. Growing up with a dad that built and reconstructed vintage furniture one might pick up on the interest. It was a white privacy doorknob with hand painted roses, with a Victorian long plated silver keyhole. The sound of distant car door slamming snapped me out of my daze. I turned my head in the direction of the sound low and behold it was that same car. Crazy thing is I didn't see anyone by it.

Instinct guided me forward considering my brain was scrambling with worry. I ushered myself inside and it was as though I fell into a pink wonderland. From the pink carpet to the multicolored pink pinstripe wallpaper. Hot pink roses seemed to have been the main theme for the lobby. There were various black and silver picture frames with photos of pink roses hanging on every wall. On every surface my eyes could catch, red and pink plastic roses sat in circular olive green vases. It was certainly....something. I thought I was doing the most logical thing by coming inside, but it quickly dawned on me that I saw no one around.

"Hello?" I cautiously called out.

I paced myself as I walked up to the front desk, simultaneously looking around for any potential red flags. My right arm was going numb, my little guy was tiny but felt like I was lugging around a sack of potatoes. I wandered away from the desk to poke my head around the place. There was a entry way that led to a dinning area with a handful of seats adorned with of course pink table settings. I was standing next to a spiral staircase to what I assumed led to the rooms. There was only one door that held a sign for a bathroom. Perhaps there was a power outlet I could use long enough to charge my phone to call my dad.

The same door I walked in swung open and droplets of rain was blown in by the wind. A shiver rolled down my spine, sending a myriad of sparks that shot through my body. Turning around a strange sensation filled the pits of my stomach. It felt like butterflies and moths had taken up space there. Excitement and fear. I just stood completely mute like I had never seen a man before. Well to my defense I hadn't seen ones that look like him in my town. Without even seeing my reflection I had an inkling as to the state of my appearance. I was utterly perplexed by how he pulled off the kissed by an ocean look. To embarrass myself further of course my dog chose that moment to shake water off of his fur on to me.

"Really Coop?" I tried to hide my disgust, but he got it around the corner of my mouth! The good looking stranger offered a half smile that probably pitied my overall state.

"Is the black Kia parked out yours?" Even his voiced oozed sex appeal. He angled his frame so he could face me. There was about an arm length of distance between us. His eyes practically bore into my face I suppose waiting for me to say something. Must have been the buzzcut, the facial scuff, or the fact that some creep was still parked outside waiting to do who knows what. But my thoughts were not where they should have been.

I blinked and straightened up my posture. "Yeah why?" I finally answered.

It was a causal question, yet it felt completely random like there was something else to it.Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.The silence was so thick it would take a hacksaw to cut through.

"Well I'll be damned! I didn't think I would get to see you until after you got back from your trip in California." A woman most likely in her late sixties came rushing down the stairs for him. She draped her arms around his body clearly taking him by surprise. Her cotton candy colored pink bouffant made up for most of her height. Sebastian returned her embrace. Although it looked extremely awkward considering he stared at me the whole time and I stood there watching.

"Moe's old truck didn't give you too much trouble did it?" She asked.

"No it still got some life left in it." Sebastian's jaw went slack and he looked from her to me once more. Only this time he was looking at me with a cold glare. Realization suddenly crashed into me like a wild horse.

[toplinetommy]

Could you do 83 and 97 from the fluff/angst list with Tyson Jost?

Long story short, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tyson was just a guy you had gone home with a few months ago, and now it seemed like you were meeting him at his apartment the second he got home from road trips, he was leaving guys’ night early to see you (sometimes even skipping it), you were watching his games even though you swore you weren’t that into sports, and you were each other's number one best friend on Snapchat.

But now his phone in your name had changed from just ‘Tyson Jost’ to ‘tys😋’ and he had added a photo of the two of you to your contact, smiling whenever your name flashed across his screen.

And now here you were, thumbs hovering over your open text conversation with Tyson, the last text being one you sent, telling him good luck before taking the ice for Game 4 of the conference finals. The Avs were trailing the series 0-3, making this a must-win game for the group. Your head was empty of any possible thing you could text him as you watched the handshake line after the Golden Knights had celebrated their series sweep, sending them to the Stanley Cup Final.

You had opted to not send him anything for the first hour, knowing that he would probably want time to be with his team and talk to his family or even anyone else that wasn’t you. After all, you were just two people sleeping together that had happened to now be good friends. Part of you wanted to see if he would message you first, wanting him to let you know how he was feeling without having to read between the lines.

The two of you had been dancing around your feelings for the other for weeks now. It was easy to see that Tyson had been putting in extra effort to see you, spending an equal amount of time between your place and his that was on the other side of town. He had slowly become someone that you weren’t just spending time with between the sheets and giving rushed goodbyes in the early hours of the morning. You started to hang out with some of the guys that lived in his building, he spent time with your roommates when they were around, and he had been more than happy to get you tickets to more than a few of his games.

And the sex. The sex had transitioned from just needy sex where you both were just trying to get an orgasm or two, to memorizing each dip and curve of the other person. It was plenty dirty, and you got to explore with him, but a light had switched one night after the two of you had gotten wine drunk off of the cheap Trader Joe’s brand in his living room. You had taken your time exploring the other’s body, placing soft kisses on the scrapes and bruises littering Tyson’s tan skin, while he sucked soft bruises onto the tops of your breasts, your hips, and your thighs. It was slow and filled with overwhelming emotion on both ends. His thrusts had hit you deeper at a more languid pace than he’s exhibited with you. From then on out, the sex was wild and dirty, but still sweet and heartfelt.

Nothing was said that next morning when you procrastinated getting out of his bed, causing Tyson to go a little more than the speed limit on the way to morning skate. Lingering kisses were left when you said your goodbyes at the door or at the other’s car, kisses on each other’s shoulders and foreheads when you passed by the other.

It was everything you wanted in someone, except he wasn’t yours. And that was starting to become evident as you fell asleep that night with no texts from him after his game, nor a text the following day as you started preparing yourself dinner. Throughout the following day, you continued to think of what to say to him but as the hours passed, you thought your opportunity to talk to him did, too.

The constant opening of your text thread with him was driving you crazy, so you had purposefully left it in your work bag the second you set it down by your front door when you got home. With the neverending slow day you had, your first task of the evening was to open your fridge and find a bottle of wine to pop open.

Hours later into the evening where the city around you is starting to fall asleep, you’re still wide awake on your couch watching the newest episodes of New Amsterdam. A loud knock comes through the door and you frown thinking of how late had gotten. Still, you pause your show and whip open your front door, thinking it’s just the guy your roommate’s sleeping with. But instead of it being the six foot four, blonde, banker, it’s a barely six foot, curly headed brunette that plays hockey.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Tyson starts slowly, noting the confused look on your face as the door swings open to reveal you in your college hoodie and a pair of running shorts. “But, I leave to go back home this weekend until next season and I really needed to see you.”

“So, you waited until the last minute before leaving for the summer?” you roll your eyes. “That makes sense.”

“Can I come in? There’s a lot I’d like to talk to you about.”

And you want to say no, barring the fact that it’s nearing 1:30 in the morning and you have work tomorrow. But the dark circles under Tyson’s eyes and his unruly hair tucked underneath the hood of his sweatshirt has you opening the door further and gesturing for him to take a few steps into your place. Tyson glances around the all-too-familiar living room, noting that the tv is paused on some show he doesn’t recognize, your favorite throw blanket is thrown on the couch instead of folded, all indicators that you still haven’t gone to bed.

“Another sleepless night, huh?” Tyson asks, but it’s more like he’s asking for confirmation that he’s right because he knows you too well. He knew you had trouble sleeping on a frequent basis because at one point he had started falling asleep on the couch next to you instead of in bed since it meant going to bed with you.

“Uh, yeah,” you respond, a knit-in your eyebrows. “I had a long day. What’d you want to talk about?”

Tyson feels weird, he knows exactly what he wants to say to you, but his anxiety is starting to bubble with the unfamiliar space between the two of you as he stands by the front door and you’re leaning against the back of your couch more than a few feet away. He takes a weary step forward, running his hand through his hair and pushing the hood down in the process.

“Sorry for not texting you back, I just wanted to do this in person because that’s what you deserve and I needed time to figure everything out with what’s going on between us. The playoffs were really tough and there was so much pressure to win, more than normal, and it was really defeating to not win a single game in the conference finals. I’ve never been so close, and it still sucks knowing there are two teams playing hockey right now and mine isn’t one of them.”

The sadness and strain in his voice aren’t hard to miss, coupled with his overall disheveled appearance. What he said to you was the exact reason why you didn’t reach out to him first. Knowing Tyson is here out of the goodness of his heart and isn’t here what you don’t think is bad news, you close the distance between the two of you, pulling him into a hug. He sighs heavily as his chin comes to rest atop your head, breathing in the coconut shampoo you regularly use. His hand comes to brush the ends of your hair down, something he had down all throughout your, well whatever this thing was called between the two of you.

You seemingly forget that he mentioned talking to you about things that probably just weren’t the disappointing end to his season. You drag him to the couch with you, hitting play on the tv remote and turning the volume down so you can still focus on the brunette next to you. His thighs are touching yours and he throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. Your fingers toy with the drawstring of his hood out of anxiousness as you wait for either him to speak or for when you find the right words to say to him.

“If it’s any consolation, I think you all played really well, and it’s fuel for the next season,” you assure him, your voice soft and barely above a whisper. Your gaze is focused on the moving doctors on the screen in front of you while he watches the blue light cast different shadows across your face.

“Thank you,” Tyson breathes out. “But I didn’t come here just to be negative and talk about things that already happened that I don’t have control over anymore.”

Your stomach tightens at that, your first thought going to the one that tells you he just came over to get his dick wet then leave for the summer. You start to shift your body to not rest any of your weight on him. But he puts a hand on the back of your head, keeping you against his chest. You can feel his breathing passing through your hair and the rise and fall of his chest underneath you.

“I wanted to talk you about what’s going on between us, and that, uh, you’re the only girl I’m seeing, well, been seeing honestly, like, since-”

“You’re kind of rambling,” you smile, looking up at him. “But it’s okay because you’re the only guy I’ve been seeing, too.”

He smiles back down at you, both of you clearly being on the same page. “I know this is terrible timing since I’m going home next week, but maybe we can plan something where one of us visits the other?”

“I’d love that,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him softly.

[dustedmagazine]

2020-21: Patrick Masterson

Armand Hammer photo by Patrick Masterson

I.

I have no idea what I’m doing here.

Okay, that’s a little glib. But in my nearly 13 years of living in Chicago, I’ve never once had occasion to visit the House of Blues until now. When I think back on why I wouldn’t have come, the answer is clear: I can’t stomach outrageous ticket prices even when I can afford them. But somehow, two dudes I met by chance at a neighborhood watering hole two weeks ago have convinced me that coughing up the coin to see Emma Ruth Rundle, Intronaut and Cult of Luna on a Wednesday night in early March is a good idea. And as it was in 2019, I’m telling myself that 2020 is the year I just say yes. Hey, last year it got me Smash Mouth in Las Vegas and a beard; this year it gets me metal in a funhouse mirror rendition of The Metro.

I’ve already loaded up on tickets for the next few months, so I figure squeezing in one more like this can’t hurt. It’s stupid how much money I’ve already spent on shows, from Control Top to Great Grandpa to Squirrel Flower to Yves Tumor; I could continue to namedrop for a surprising amount of time, in fact. Point is, it’s gonna be a stacked spring once we get this coronavirus thing under control. Somewhere outside the House of Blues, people are increasingly panicked about what to call it, where Wuhan is on a map, what exactly distinguishes a pandemic from an epidemic, how likely it is to catch and die from, what a lockdown could look like.

Inside? Inside, I’m taking in this Cheesecake Factory of music venues, trying to comprehend the confused architecture and the dynamics of Justin’s gaggle of metal and punk friends without Ryan’s assistance, struggling to keep up with any discussion of festivals or stoner-metal whose knowledge for me pretty much ends with the third Black Tusk record. I’m wearing a black coat, lightly faded jeans and worn white shoes, giving nothing away of my allegiances. I’m incredibly uncomfortable, trying not to say too much, struggling to assimilate among guys I share little common ground with. I wouldn’t call it fun, exactly, but I’m not bothered by people I don’t know, it’s just that it’s work — and I’m done with that now. Anyway, I’ll be glad when it’s over.

A sense of how blind I am going into this show: Rundle opens with a solo set from which I take away that a) the audience really respects her, which I’m not sure I was expecting, and b) “Darkhorse” is awesome. I make a note to go home and find out later that I was, it turns out, already familiar with her via Red Sparowes. At some point, Ryan shows up late. We barely speak because of the sets. When Intronaut — whose name I’d recognized from their debut that came out when I was in college, a time so distant and incoherent I can barely remember I was there at this point — takes the stage, I think they’re Cult of Luna. I’m surprised by how well the trio fills out the space and eventually work out (on my own) that this is not who I thought it was. Ryan leaves early because he’s a punk/hardcore kid and none of this appeals to him. When Cult of Luna comes out, the band I know the least about fills in the picture most closely to what I thought I was getting tonight. It’s enjoyable, on a whole.

Afterward, I tell Justin thanks for the invite and that I’ll see him around, walk out to find a train, and assume I’ll never hear from the guy again. But who knows? Maybe I’ll run into him around the neighborhood. Maybe I’ll even bump into him at a show soon.

II.

“I think that’s it,” I point out from the passenger seat as we pass by at cruising speed. “I mean, it’s the address and I… don’t see anywhere else around here that yellow. Right? Gotta be.”

“Gotta be,” Megan says, turning the car around.

The last time I came to Oak Park was for a brewery a year ago and I have no reason to be out here otherwise, so I’m unfamiliar with where we’re about to settle for the next few hours. But the opportunity to see Oui Ennui — for my money Chicago’s best producer right now — in an outdoor space called Compound Yellow is a good way to ease back into the normality of watching live music from somewhere other than behind a computer monitor; if that means we’re going to Oak Park, we’re going to Oak Park. It’s a Friday night, anyway. We have nowhere better to go. We’re vaccinated and well conditioned by now to carry masks just in case.

What we came for were some synth excursions and the pleasure of attending a show again; what we get is a quick walkaround of the place by one of the founders and a pitch that basically amounts to an artist’s utopia: the 501c(3) status, the independent and experimental spirit, the interdisciplinary nature of the creatives that inhabit the joint and help make it run. We also get chickens, all of whom look better fed than I do. There’s free La Croix and wine.

There’s a set that Oui Ennui fills not so much with songs as ideas, an engaging counterpoint to Whole Foods traffic and the infrequent passing of the Green Line across the street. There are intermittent head bobbins during his hour, but mostly this is an easy turn to dusk for all participants. The mid-June weather is perfect. There are squirrels to smirk at. You can sense it there as he’s playing: Everyone’s slowly relaxing, feeling like maybe, maybe we’re starting to come out the other side of this.

III.

Haram by Armand Hammer & The Alchemist

How do I describe Armand Hammer to the uninitiated? On one hand, it’s easy: Beats and tomes. On the other… well, you know what a tome is, right? Imagine the weight of its ideas but in florid rap verse set to throwback samples, dusty ‘90s grooves anyone could rap over but no one else does quite like Billy Woods and Elucid. It’s like that.

But it’s also not like that, I find myself doubling back again, grappling with how to frame just why Armand Hammer stands out in 2021 among the current crop of wizened hip-hop leaders like Boldy James, Danny Brown, Freddie Gibbs, Ka, Roc Marciano and Tree, all guys who’ve had strong runs the past 12 months. It’s like me pulling out the small indie press poetry books on my table and plucking a random page that says here a purple hearse parked by the boarded-up church or probably they spun out of themselves and landed squarely in that there, their new bodies capable, lean, vibrating at the speed of belief and these are the stages of unbecoming where the procedure remains wholly mysterious to me. String it all together and you reach a subconscious understanding of your intent, the gruesome heart of it, an unending onion of emotion.

Celia isn’t down in the hip-hop trenches as a matter of course, but as an NPR DJ back in Nashville with a shared college (and, shared separately, independent) radio grounding who’s visiting for the weekend, she understands the outline of the thing, the blurred silhouette of what we’re talking about — and anyway, I’ve already missed Armand Hammer twice this year. It’s not happening a third time. A motley flock of friends have joined us at Sleeping Village for this. Opening is DJ Taye, at the forefront of the latest crop of footwork producers and a handy demonstrator of the dance style to boot, and Crashprez, who we discover to my delighted astonishment is nothing on record like he is in person. By the time Woods and Elucid take the stage in complete darkness, I’m already thinking I could call the night here and be pretty satisfied.

The first sung words on Haram are “good times” in the sample on the beat for opener “Sir Benni Miles,” but I wouldn’t call Armand Hammer that, exactly. On record or in concert, it’s work — and when it comes to music, I’m never done with that. It’s been a strange year. I’ve been gliding along feeling a wild disconnection from my job, from friends, from the greater world, from any sense of momentum, hurtling forth in space without hurtling through time, lacking any sensation of speed. I’ve forgotten how to write in past and future tenses. I’ve relinquished control from so much, offered myself the measure of feeling far away a lot. I imagine other countries and planets, conceive of how I could be there right now. We haven’t come out of anything. Everything feels like work I can’t avoid.

Armand Hammer operates as a soundtrack for that. Take a look at that “Sir Benni Miles” video; they’re probably rapping from ruins somewhere in Queens, but it may as well be Ancient Rome or another galaxy. Eyes burning with an intensity you can’t quite feel on Haram (or most of their other studio recordings), Billy and Elucid go after the mic, and us, in that small room like they’ve already lost everything, trading verses and songs as if it were making fire in the forest alone on a cold night, a matter of survival. I haven’t seen anyone rap like this since Kevin Gates did an hour-plus at Bottom Lounge years ago. Celia seems to understand coming out of the venue afterward: That headlining set might not have felt fun, but it was necessary.

And what else would the weekend and the year hold? Well, who has the capacity to think so far ahead with all those scaffolds and stonefruits swimming around the brain? I feel no ill wind to my back as we walk home, think of 2021 as we unlock my apartment door and she heads to bed while I fall to my couch for the night: Almost done, God be praised. Almost done, every debt gets paid. Yeah, Celia and I can settle tabs tomorrow. Right now, my beer-slaked body needs sleep. It’s not an aberration. This is how it works.

Patrick Masterson

[prorevenge]

Screw me? Screw you; I want my money.

This is a revenge in multiple parts and apologies up front for the length.

About 30years or so ago I was 17 and about to head to University. An acquaintance through my parents church offered me a job working with him learning to be a pizza chef. Awesome, I'd need money for Uni and I'd already had a stack of jobs, so working hard was nothing new for me, but being a cook certainly was. My experience with Italian was limited to Pizza Hut. So I accepted that at the start I was a liability, not a help.

I started work, and to start with I worked free. Cool, but when it got to the point about 3 months later that I was opening by myself & taking whole shifts by myself, well, I should be paid. I screwed up all of my 17yr old courage and confronted the owner, let's call him Nick (because that was his name). He huffed and puffed and tried to tell me how terrible I was, but I stood my ground and now I'm on minimum wage. Not bad in my eyes at the time.

I worked there for another 3years, through most of my Uni degree, often putting in 30hrs contact at Uni, 30 hours at the restaurant and 30 hours of study, it was hectic, but just became the norm.

Towards the end I became a lot more savvy, and started researching labour laws, keeping records of my pay packets and end of year tax receipts and realised Nick (& other co-owners) were screwing me. I wasn't on the correct rate, they weren't deducting tax correctly and a couple of other accounting "oversights".

By then I was working with my (at the time) mate, let's call him Girlfriend Creeping Dickhead (GCD).

It was Sunday night - the place was packed I had tickets all the way down my line and GCD and I were pumped. We had a new boss (NB) who'd just bought into the business who thought he was the King Of the World because he was now a "restauranteur", a right wanker, but after years of having to stay back to cook pizzas on world cup nights for the bosses friends, or Chirstmas, NYE, etc I was sorta used to the grandstanding chest puffing behaviour.

The night in question the new boss would *not* let me start the second pizza oven (think a two tier oven - I was only allowed the top tier on) because it "cost too much". So here I am, oven FULL, two pizza chefs running full speed and we're only falling behind, because one oven wasn't enough and it was starting to cool down from being so full and opened so frequently.

NB gets a couple of tables of mates in. Instead of just asking us to cook some comp garlic bread or whatever, he starts loading up trays himself and putting them in the oven, not the worst crime, but because he had NO idea what he was doing, every 30s he'd open the oven to check them, cooling the oven down even further, potentially ruining the food we had in there and slowing us down measurably. I had the Head Chef chewing my ass out as his food was ready to go but my food on teh same tickets wasn't. It was hectic and not fun.

This Garlic Bread Bandit shit had to stop.

me: NB - Stop fucking with my oven. If you want garlic bread - just ask - I'll get it done immediately for you. NB: What? Huh? me: You're messing with my oven - you're cooling it down and we're too busy for this shit - just tell me and I'll make it. NB: Ok.

Did he do it? Nope, he kept on. Queue the same conversation another 2 times, the last time I told him I'd blow my stack if he did it again. You see where this is going. He did it again.

Now - after being consistently ripped off and abused (so many kooky stories from that place) for 3 years, my time was up there anyway, and this was the time to do it.

I looked at GCD and said "Yo. We out of here?" he looked back and simply said "Yup". We stripped our aprons and in front of the entire restaurant (pizza kitchen was in full view of the entire restaurant) threw them on the bench and told NB "We quit - All this, all these tickets, all the food in the oven you've fucked up, and your mates shitty garlic bread - this is all yours now - good luck"

Then we walked out - got some coffees from the baristas, sat in front of the Pizza area and watched him absolutely FLOUNDER. He had *no* idea what he was doing and there was literally no one else there that could help him. We could see food coming out from the kitchen, but the pizza on the same ticket was taking 20m or more longer to come out, tables were hopping mad - we could hear the grumblings all around us. I'll admit it was dickish, but undeniably satisfying to behold.

That's not the pro revenge though. The Pro revenge was that I'd been stealing my timesheet every Sunday night, photocopying it and then replacing it Monday mornings. I'd been doing that for over a year. I'd also told GCD to do it.

Monday I walk in and Nick was there and was *FURIOUS* at me, as I walking in you could see his chubby face turn bright red as he bellowed across the restaurant floor "What the FUCK do you think you're doing here? Get the FUCK out and never come back".

me: Nick - we've gotta talk. We can do it here or we can do it in your office, but trust me, you want to have this conversation privately. Nick: Fine - You come with me then (desperately trying to gain the upper hand back) and he storms to his shitty little office out the back Nick: about how he's going to withhold pay and a whole heap of other illegal hot air. Me: You done? Good... Here - read this:

I hand him a print out of an excel spreadsheet, a stack of photocopied timesheets, a stack of photocopied payslips, printed copied of the wage awards, all of which detail the amount he's ripped me off for.

Me: You owe me 6 grand. I'll take cash or a cheque now.

Did I mention he and the other bosses had *just* been simultaneously raided by the tax office and that they and the business were all on thin fucking ice? Yeah, bad timing for Nick the Dick.

Nick: Spluttering, wringing his hands "But, but, I can't afford it! Look I'll show you my bank accounts" as he physically starts scrambling to find his bank statements. Me: Nick I literally don't give a shit about you, your bank accounts or your situation, you owe me 6 grand *TODAY* or I take all of this to the Tax office and all of the other relevant government departments that will be *very* interested in this, because Nick... I have a feeling if you're doing this to me, you're doing it to other staff here as well huh? As for not having the money, well, again, not my problem, but you just bought a new $60,000 Pajero, so if you have to run that down to the car yard and sell it, again I don't give a shit but I get 6 grand TODAY.

He literally teared up a little, I'm not sure why, maybe through frustration, rage or just being screwed by someone he though waaaaay beneath him. But seeing a grown man who's abused you for many years cry at your hands is a pretty beautiful thing to behold as a 20yr old kid.

I got a cheque that day for my whole 6 grand (and yes, it cashed), but the best was walking out of his office with GCD standing there who deadpan just looked him in the eyes and said "Nick, we need to talk..." and in they walked in to do the same thing. $10k he "lost" that day.

The best part? A few of my friends at the restaurant caught wind of the fact that I had *enraged* him and asked what it was all about - I let them know how they were being screwed, how to take copies of all of their timesheets, and where to find the relevant laws. I know of several other people who did the same thing to him.

And that was how I left the hospitality industry and started working in my field of study, never to look back.

Hope you enjoyed my cake day present to y'all!

(source) story by (/u/faidel)

[novannna]

Same Sea, Same Soul, Same Heart

Chapter 8 Danna and Nova pine for eachother, while Nova’s plan falls into motion.  

link to masterlist

link to chapter 7

Wc: 1723

Nova cracked her knuckles, and sat down.  

“So, here’s the plan we have already,” she said to her crew.  They were gathered around the deck, a table with a map pinned on it in front of them.  

“I managed to pull a few strings within the castle, and the idea of a sea wedding was introduced to the prince.  Apparently the mysterious bride was excited by the idea.  So, the wedding should be here.”  Nova moved a small red painted ship to a cove outside Gatlon City.  “If we attack from here,” Nova said pushing a black ship in from the opposite direction of the city.  “Then they will see us, and know that the wedding is being attacked.  While rushing to their ships, we will attack the wedding.  If possible, we take hostages to use as an exit ticket, but we can’t save everyone.”  Nova smirked.  “And while the armada rushes to save their prince and kings-”  Nova shoved a fleet of ships across the maps.  “Ace will slip into the palace, and conquer the city.  Any questions?”

Her crew shook their heads.  

Nova grinned.  “Excellent.  Details will be ironed out as new information comes in, but that’s the general gist of it.”  Nova swept the ships into a small cloth bag, and rolled up the mat.  “Now, don’t you all have work to do?”  She shooed them off.  

Moxie hurried up to her.  “What if Danna’s there?”  She asked.  

“What about it?”  Nova shrugged.  

“...Well would you kill her?”

“If it comes to it, yes.  I’d never put my ambitions on the line, just for a girl I don’t even like.” 

“But what are your ambitions? You talk about them, but I don’t actually know what they are.”

Nova inhaled deeply.  “I want to avenge my family.  If the Renegades had given them the help they had needed, they would still be alive.”

“Nova, is that really what you want?”

“Yes.  It is.  Now, I’m busy, and so are you.”

Moxie caught her hand, jerking her to a stop.  “Nova…”

In seconds, Nova had whirled around, and pressed a dagger to Moxie’s throat.  “Don’t even start,” she growled.  “And don’t touch me.”  

Moxie sighed and looked down.  “Yes Captain.”  

Nova spun around, and stalked away.  She hurried into her office, and swung the doors to her balcony open.  The sea swayed below her, wild waves reaching up to slap the hull.  

“Oh, why did I ever even think I had a chance with Danna Bell.  Me, of all people. To her perfection, I am nobody.  Why was I foolish to ever even begin to think that she might stoop low enough to love me.  The scum of the earth.  A thief.  A liar.  A traitor.  A murderer.”  Nova hugged her arms tight around her body.  “Why did I fool myself?”  

The clouds hung heavy, as if sensing Nova’s foul mood.  She walked back inside, footsteps plodding heavily across the wood floor.  

Nova closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply.  She let all her thoughts collect, and when she exhaled, she let them all flow away.  SHe cracked her eyes open, refusing to even think about Danna.  She picked up a piece of paper, and a quill.  Sitting down in her chair, Nova began to write a letter.  Before she could overthink it, Nova stuffed it into a bottle, and tossed it overboard.  

The odds of the person she actually wanted it to get finding it were next to nothing, but still Nova hoped.  Hoped a foolish, stupid, pointless hope.  

And she knew that.  But still, Nova hoped.

---

Danna scurried down the vines outside her window, disguised under a heavy cloak.  The guards didn’t even notice as she darted past them, using shadows as cover.  It wasn’t surprising Nova’s crew had been able to steal her so easily.  The men were incompetent.  Completely, utterly incompetent.  

Danna smiled to herself.  

She hurried through the streets, gaining more and more speed as she neared her destination.  

Finally, she was racing in a flat out sprint, coming to an abrupt halt inches away from the cold waves. 

Her shoes sank into the sand, and Danna threw them off.  

A laugh burbled out of her throat as her toes wiggled in the sand.  

Danna screwed her eyes shut, and placed a single foot in the water.  

It was cold, and gently lapped against her ankle.  Danna laughed again.  

She had never been in the sea like this before.  

She stuck another foot in.  Slowly she waded farther and farther, until her hips were under water.  

It was silly, but Danna felt like she and Nova were connected through the waves.  

They were in the same sea.  Despite the distance between them, it was still the same water.  It felt like it was watching over her.  Keeping her safe.  

Danna breathed in deeply, and bracing herself, dove under the waves.  

The water covered her head, tugging her hair in different directions.  

She moved her fingers through the water, just like she remembered frogs doing.  

Danna moved forwards.  She tried to smile, but water flooded her mouth.  She accidentally swallowed a mouthful, and frantically tried to stand, only to realize she had floated away from the shore.  

Danna frantically paddled her arms, somehow flailing her body back to the shore.  She lay on the sand, coughing salt water up.

Danna collapsed down, lying on the ground,  The stars twinkled far above her, and she wondered if Nova was looking at the same ones.  

Danna smiled, and brushed a piece of hair from her face.  

“I miss you, my love,” she whispered into the nothingness.  “I hope that I can see you again someday.  Even if it is when we are in the stars.”

---

Nova sighed, and collapsed onto her balcony.  She looked up at the stars shining bright above her.  The clouds had cleared, and now the thin moon hung high in the sky.  She gazed at the shore, where she knew Danna was, probably safe in her bed, forgetting Nova had ever existed.  Maybe she was getting ready for the wedding.  Nova wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted Danna there.  At least she could see Danna again.  

But Danna would see her dark side.  Her bad side. The brutal, violent, killing side.  The side Nova wished didn’t exist.  

Thinking about it, Nova definitely did not want Danna there.  She didn’t want Danna to view her as even more bad.  

Nova sighed heavily, and looked back to the stars.  

She wondered if Danna was looking at the same ones.  Probably not.  But it was nice to think that she was.  

“I miss you, my love,” Nova whispered to the sky, wishing Danna could hear her words.  “I hope that I can see you again someday.  Even if it is when we are in the stars.”

---

Danna slowly got up, her wet body caked with sand.  

She looked back at the ocean one last time, and saw something glinting in the waves. 

Danna walked over, and laughed when she saw a bottle floating by her feet.  She bent down, and picked it up.  A letter was tightly rolled up inside, safe and dry.  Danna pried the bottle open, using her teeth to pry the cork out.  It had swollen after spending hours in the sea.  

Finally it popped free, and Danna slid the letter out.  Carefully, she unrolled the parchment.  Danna gasped, and fell to her knees as she read.  

Dearest Danna,

I know this letter will most likely never reach you.  It probably will never reach you.  But I hope that the sea will care for me, as it has always done, and see that this bottle makes it into your hands.  Danna, there is no amount of words I can write that could accurately phrase what I want to say to you.  You could never understand how much you mean to me.  I know that I’ve done bad things.  I know I hurt you.  And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.  I wouldn’t forgive me either.  I want you to know that ever since we’ve parted, I have thought of you almost constantly.  I love you, Danna Bell.  And I have to live with the fact that I sent you away.  Because I was scared.  That was the only reason.  I was a coward.  I left you.  I couldn’t even bear to see your face so I drugged you.  I’ve done terrible things, but that was the first thing that truly made me feel guilty.  I’m sorry I was such a coward. 

If you are reading this, then maybe the universe has decided I can be saved.  Maybe it did give me a scrap of luck for once in my life.  I’ll think of you for the rest of time, because you are my heart. 

I love you. 

Nova

Danna let out a sob, and pressed the letter right to her chest. She hadn’t been an idiot.  She hadn’t been a foolish, naive noble.  There was a chance for them to be together. 

And Nova has thrown it all away. 

For a second, Danna was angrier than she ever had been.  But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.  Nova had an entire life.  She was scared, and confused, and she wasn’t about to throw it all away for someone she was supposed to hate.  Unlike Danna, Nova actually had something left to lose.  Of course she sent Danna away. 

And Danna could never be mad at someone she loved that fully.  Danna could never be mad at Nova.  No matter how many terrible crimes she did, Danna would always forgive her.  That was the way love worked.  You always return to the arms you know best. 

“I got your letter,” Danna whispered.  “I promise, if I see you in this life, or the next, I won’t let anything tear us apart.  Never again.”  

---

The two girls sat near the sea, looking at the same sky, wondering if the other knew the depths of their love.  The lengths they would go for the other.  

And neither of them knew that the other wondered the same thing back. 

They just sat, looking at the sky, wishing on every star they saw, that there was a way for them to be together again.

Tag list: @novissa @thepurpledragon4444  @phobidawg   @rvbell @redassassin @ifyouhadntbutyoudid (let me know if you want to be added/taken off!!!)  

[depressedtransguy]

don't read this unless you're @thedragonemperess or I will come to your house and shave your teeth with a razor

@angelwiththeblue-box you can also read

10/07/21

Stephen took me to the carnival for our two year anniversary yesterday night. It was... phenomenal. Normally I don't like going out so publicly on our dates, especially in something as popular as a carnival, but it might be my favorite date of ours so far. He picked me up in his dad's Lamborghini at around 7:30, just as the sun was beginning to sink below the tree line of this stupid little town, and kissed me up against the car as soon as he got his hands on me. The start of his beard pricked me lightly as we did. Then he squeezed my hand lightly and told me he had a surprise that he hoped I liked. I told him if it was from him then I'd adore it. We shared another kiss through giggles before we slipped into the car and began to drive off. Our hands were intertwined on the center console the whole time. He always told me that it was hard to keep his hands off me with me in range and my consent. God... I love him more than anything. But, anyway, the carnival. As we neared, his thumb slid over mine and he told me to close my eyes, which I properly did. He's the only one I trust enough to do that with. I could tell he was excited and a little anxious just from the way he kept squeezing my fingers. It was adorable. Even cuter when we stopped and he temporarily let go as we stopped, only to move to my side of the car and slowly lead me out onto the gravel of the parking lot, practically buzzing with anticipation. I didn't even care what it was at that point, whatever made Stephen this thrilled to show him had to be good. Then he told me to open my eyes. And Jesus Christ I think I audibly gasped. I didn't know what I was really expecting, but when the bright lights spread all throughout the fairgrounds, exploding the navy sky with color, I could swear I was in another realm. As Stephen asked me if I liked it, I noticed his eyes were nervous, so with sparkling eyes I pulled him close and told him I loved it. The smile on his face was worth everything and more. He actually told me the same thing about mine. That was before he took my hand once more and led me past the ticket taker, pulling them out of his jeans and handing them off, us receiving a smile from her as we continued walking out onto the grass. "I know it's not traditional, but when I passed this place the other day I suddenly wanted to take you here," is what he said. "We can leave any time you want." "As long as you're here, I don't care where the date is," is what I said back. And boy was I right. It didn't matter that there were a ton of other people there, they all faded into nothing but background characters as Stephen miraculously won the balloon pop game and happily gifted me a little goat stuffed animal, one that I held close to my heart as I beamed at him. As I pressed my body close to him on the roller coaster, my fingers digging tightly into his bicep, and he held me steady as I stumbled onto the platform post ride. As the ferris wheel stuttered to a stop as we sat at the top, Stephen's hand on my thigh and my hand on his shoulder, and we kissed there, surrounded by nothing but the lights and the infinite abyss of stars. Once the night was over we had slow, sappy sex in his car, too filled with adoration and the need of skin against skin for us to drive back to one of our houses. I lazily drew shapes in the mist on the windows as I was brought back to my place, my mind filled with a soft bliss, and my body feeling like I had been washed over. I had never felt more at peace. And I still did, even as we had our long goodbye kiss and I went to sleep alone, the goat pressed against my chest. I was at peace. So how the hell did I end up here?

A tear slipped off of Loki's cheek and splattered onto his messy handwriting, bleeding the words together and making the many sections of his diary incomprehensible. It made him want to cry harder. That night could very well be all he and Stephen had together, and he was destroying the only stable record of it. Loki tilted back his head and squeezed his fists as tightly as possible.

On 10/07/21, at approximately 11:27, while driving from Loki's house to his, a speeding car struck Stephen's from behind and sent him spinning out of control off a cliff and forcing him to end up upside down near the river below. The person who caused the accident is yet to be found. And Stephen had been in surgery for 17 hours by the time Loki arrived at the hospital after school, right after he had gotten the news. He was still unconscious by then and practically looked like he had been forced through a meat grinder. Loki couldn't even glance up at him anymore, it made his heart twist into knots and make him want to throw up and sob. Not because he looked disgusting, although he certainly didn't look great, it was solely because of how his state reminded him of how hurt his boyfriend was. Loki couldn't imagine how much pain he was in. The cuts and scrapes on his face, the bruises on his arms, and the absolute wreck that his hands appeared to be, it all made him want to tear the skin off his bones. It hurt so much.

With a loud curse Loki snapped his notebook shut and pressed his face into it, doing his best to clear his mind instead of thinking all that he and Stephen had had together. The late nights of 'studying', the private dates, the stolen kisses at school... it had all slipped through their fingers because of one fucking idiot on the road.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe, despite it being a school night, Loki should have insisted on Stephen staying the night with him. None of this would have happened if he had done that. Of course it's my fault.

Although they were trembling badly and the fact that he was still on the verge of tears, Loki slowly opened his fists to check up on the mess of blood that was beginning to pool up under the curve of his claws, smeared across his pale skin and nails. As he heard the door open, Loki closed them tightly once again with only a tiny hiss of pain. It was the doctor.

"Please tell me he's going to be okay," Loki whispered after a few seconds of nothing but tentious silence between him and the doctor, the concerned expression that she had exhibited when she entered and noticed him already making his stomach churn. "I don't care if it's not the truth, please just tell me he's going to be okay."

She-Dr. Palmer, as it read on her name tag-sighed gently and walked over to the young man, placing a hand on his shoulder as she sat down next to him. He didn't consider that a good sign. "I'm not going to lie to you hon. But let me ask first. How are you connected to Stephen?"

"He's-*hic*-he's my boyfriend."

"Alright honey. I'll give you the bad news first. His hands have suffered an extreme amount of nerve damage to his hands, and the surgeries so far have done nothing to correct them. It's looking like his hands are irrefutably damaged. He's never going to be able to use them normally again. But that's only if he comes out of the coma, which he only has a 50% chance of," Dr. Palmer explained as gently as was possible as it was to tell a teenager how badly his partner was injured.

It was like Loki's already broken heart shattered. The previous night could very well have been their last time together. And sure, it was perfect, but was he satisfied with never being with Stephen again? "What?" Loki choked out.

"I am so sorry. I truly am, but there is some good news. The probability of his awakening has only been getting higher, so that 50% chance of him not coming out of the coma could very easily become zero percent in no time. And you can help with that too."

For the first time since the school day did Loki look hopeful. "I can? How?"

"Talk to him. Despite his state, he can hear you in there. Talk about your time together, the past- I know it might hurt you, and please don't push yourself out of your comfort zone, but do what you can. Okay?"

With a bit of hesitation Loki slowly nodded, once again removing his nails from his palms. "Okay. I can do that," he told her.

Dr. Palmer gave him a small smile and gently patted him on the back before she stood up again, quickly checking Stephen's vitals, and then left to most likely check on another patient. Loki then took advantage of the silence and pushed his chair over to Stephen's bedside, ignoring the blood smearing on the chair's armrests as he did so. He still stared down at his lap once he was close, fearing breaking down in tears for what seemed like the hundredth time, but he did have the courage to lift up one of his own hands and rest it on his bicep. "Hey." An immediate voice crack wasn't a great start. Not that he knew any other way to begin. Any thoughts of their past two years together made Loki want to sob, now especially since he knew that he could very possibly never make any new ones with him. But he couldn't just stay silent. He had to say something, anything to make his guilt of not making Stephen stay the night with him lessen just a little bit. And according to the doctor, talking about their happy memories together could actually help. Hopefully. But it was nonetheless better than crying his eyes out for no reason. "Remember how we started dating?" Loki paused as if he was asking for an answer. "We were sophomores. You were in my chemistry class, and I always thought you were really cute, but I was too scared to talk to you and you were too nervous to, so we passed nothing but awkward glances and sarcastic comments for months on end. Until we got paired up for a project and you asked for my number. I gave it enthusiastically of course. From there we started talking and flirting a bit, although still too anxious to actually make a move, until you grabbed me when we were in the library and pushed me up against the back wall and asked to kiss me. You can guess what my response was." He chuckled dryly. "I might be able to say that I was already in love with you when you pulled back for air and gave me that little gorgeous smirk of yours, pulled my hips to yours, and whispered 'can I do it again?'. I was putty in your hands in the Greek philosophy section."

Loki quickly fell silent at the mention of his hands. With a small swallow, he managed to continue with a low voice. "When we were science class partners, you would tell me about how much you wanted to become a doctor. A neurosurgeon to be specific. I didn't exactly know why yet, you told me that a few months into our romantic relationship, but I eagerly listened about your plans for Columbia nonetheless. Not that-" he was crying again, "-not that that'll be possible now." Loki cleared his throat and tried to wipe his tears away with his trembling hands. "Even if you wake up." The student began to gently stroke his boyfriend's bandaged bicep while still staring at his lap, watching water splash onto where the excess of his oversized hoodie was rolled up and darkened the gray fabric.

It was Stephen's hoodie.

Using his feet, Loki slowly began to push his chair back until he eventually hit the wall, bunching his hands up in the hoodie's collar and raising it up to his nose, inhaling the signature cologne that he had fallen in love with over the last two years. The hood was soon flipped over his head and his knees were brought up to his chest, curling himself into the fetal position, and then finally letting all his tears out into the secure housing of Stephen's smell. That's where he had always been safe, and no matter either of their states, it still worked. Loki actually fell asleep like that after half an hour or so.

Stephen's parents found him in the morning and called Loki's family, and Thor ended up carrying him back home.

But as soon as he woke up he went back to the hospital. He wasn't missing the possibility of Stephen waking up.

10/31/21

I've still been going to school. Because my parents want me to. But I'm not doing well. My grades are beginning to sink from it, and the teachers don't care. I can't focus in class, I'm just thinking about if Stephen's going to wake up or not. What if he's waking up alone while I'm in Calculus? What if he flatlines when I'm in history? There's just too many probabilities. I don't give a shit about my grades, I just want Stephen back. I know that's such a stupid little kid thing to say since we are high schoolers, but it's been two years! And he's shown me so much love and care in that time that I don't know what I'd do without him. Not that anyone else seems to care. This is why I want Stephen back, he's the only friend I have left. In real life friend I mean. And I don't say that like I'm attached to his hip all the time, we have our own private time that I respect, but they all moved away. Why am I defending myself to a notebook? God this hospital is making me crazy. Stephen looks better, which I'm really glad about. Dr. Palmer tells me I've helped a lot by staying and talking to him, he should most likely wake up soon, but she did tell me that I can go home soon instead of only leaving for school and for showering. But I'm not doing that. At least not until he wakes up. If- WHEN he wakes up, I bet I'll get a lecture for not taking care of myself well enough just for him, so I'll probably be forced to go home more. God, I want him to lecture me. Just to hear his voice again. It's been over three weeks. I don't think I've worn anything besides underwear that isn't his. Jeans, sweatpants, shirts, hoodies, everything. It's the least I can do to replace the feeling of him being with me. At this time, I can't help but think of our Halloween's together. The first one we weren't even a month into dating, so we just bought a bunch of candy and ate candy at home while watching horror movies. But the next year, after a full 12 months of being in love, we dressed up as Gomez and Morticia Addams. Stephen looked unfairly hot in that striped suit with his hair slicked back and a teasing smile on his face. That was some good sex we had later on. Stephen said he had a thing for the dress I had on, as well as the red lipstick, which I believe since his hands barely left my hips the entire time I had it on. He also grinned from ear to ear when he saw the lipstick kiss marks I put on his collar. I love him. God I do. Please... I need him back.

Loki closed the notebook after his last few words of desperation and slipped his pencil behind his ear, raising his head up to look at Stephen with glassy eyes. He looked peaceful. By then all his scrapes and cuts were mostly healed, which made him look way better, but his hands were still pinned up in suspended holds with ragged scars lining his rough skin. More surgeries had been done on them, and Dr. Palmer once again said that he would be permanently disabled when he woke. Once again it hurt Loki's heart to think about how much pain that he must be in. The swollen scars didn't look like they felt nice. "I'm so sorry," Loki whispered as he reached up to his face and gently brushed his overgrown hair out of his face, still feeling guilty about the incident. "If I just made you stay you would still be here with me." Moving around the bed's guard rail, Loki sat on the edge of the mattress and sunk his fingers into his thick hair once more, gently toying with it as he began to talk again. "Remember junior prom? It was on February 26th; on the same night as the public prom that the school had put together. (We wanted to be alone.) You put on this navy blue suit of yours that perfectly brings out your eyes, and I bought this short green dress that made you grab my ass as soon as I came out of the house. You gave me an Agapanthus corsage that you had made yourself. And then, you kissed me, and told me that the flower meant 'never-fading love'. Like ours." A tear fell down Loki's cheek and plopped down onto Stephen's bare bicep. "I don't exactly know where me telling this story was going, my mind is a bit fuzzy and has been for weeks, hospitals being bad places to sleep plus depression isn't really an equation for good sleep, so I'll just say this. I'm not going anywhere until you return. And when you do, I'm not leaving either. Your recovery, physical therapy, going back to school, I'm going to be by your side. Okay?" Loki gently kissed Stephen's forehead and continued to stroke his hair, his other hand resting on the crook of his elbow and gently stroking his skin as if he was soothing him. "So please wake up."

With one last small peck Loki reluctantly slipped off the bed to enter the hospital bathroom, quickly using the bathroom before rubbing the sink water on his face as if that would wake him up from the haze that he had been living in, just moving from the hospital to school to the hospital to school and so on so forth. It was just a cycle of being depressed and near and being depressed and far. Fun.

Just deciding to repress his emotions for the billionth time that month, Loki shoves it down and goes back out into the main room, taking a book of Hamlet out of his bag to pass the time before he uncomfortably fell asleep in the chair. Most likely in just an hour or two since it was almost midnight. Every time he knocked unconscious in the overly small hospital chair with no support whatsoever, in front of the bed that Stephen laid in, Loki missed their cuddling more and more. Stephen's arms around him and his nose buried in the back of his neck was always the highlight of Loki's day/night. And it had been weeks since he was actually held. And by god did he need it.

But these thoughts quickly made him feel selfish. The thought that he was whining about not being held or not having his boyfriend confirmed as okay while Stephen had been struck disabled and in a coma sickened him to his core. More and more guilt stacked on top of his chest until he felt like he couldn't breathe, forced to snap his book shut and slam it on the floor. Why did everything have to hurt so much even though he didn't have a scar on him to show as evidence of his pain? It just made him feel so fake.

Loki sunk down into his seat and covered his once again teary eyes with his palms, bouncing his leg against the floor and digging his nails into his bare forehead, letting everything crash over him like a third wave tsunami. Not as extreme as the first, but it just made the present damage worse. Stop it. Stop it. STOP it. STOP IT. Loki was three seconds away from screaming out all the pain in his heart. But then he heard a groan that didn't belong to him echo in the otherwise empty room.

His palms flew to his thighs and he looked up at Stephen.

And his eyes were open!

With a gasp Loki jumped up from his chair and cupped his boyfriend's face, trying not to get too close to shock him, but just needing to hold him and let him see him. "Stephen, you're up!"

"Dewdrop... what happened?"

The student wanted to cry. He could speak. His voice was a bit strained, clearly tired and weary from lack of use, but it was there and that was all that counted. But besides that, the question couldn't be ignored. "You were in a crash baby, right after you left my house. Someone tail-boned you and you skidded off a cliff. Darling... it's Halloween."

"What?!"

Maybe he could have put it better. But Loki didn't really know how to explain it in any other way. "It's okay, darling, it's okay. Please, just focus on me for a second. Could you do that? Not the pain, not the fact that it's three and a half weeks later than you can remember, please look at my eyes and focus on me," he instructed as best he could, gently stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs and praying that he didn't glance down at his hands that he most likely could barely feel. He wanted to break that to him gently.

"I can do that."

"Alright, good. So yes, you were in a car crash and have been in a coma for about 25 days. Most of your scrapes, cuts, and bruises, have thankfully been healed. But your hands... they were crushed on impact.

[dontshootmespence]

Random Chance

Summary: Y/N yields to peer pressure and Spencer loses a bet. Did fate bring them together or was it random chance?

Words: 1,689

Warnings: Gross fluff.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo​ 2020! This fulfills my meet cute square.

This was the fifth outfit change.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You screamed, glancing into the mirror before ripping off your shirt and pants for a sixth outfit. “Speed dating? Fuck my life. This is peer pressure. You suck.”

Under pressure, filled with nervous tension, you tended to run your mouth, and right now Piper was at the opposing end of your razor sharp sword. But she still had a smile on her face. “You need to get out there and you won’t do it yourself, so I had to push you,” she laughed, pushing passed the mountain of packed boxes and pulling one of your favorite dresses out of the closet. 

“A dress? Really? For speed dating?”

Dating sucked. It was the most horrible thing ever. All you wanted was to fall into the perfect relationship and then cuddle on the couch. Was that so much to ask? 

Piper laughed and stood behind you, holding the dress over your body. “Yes, it’s not an evening gown or anything. And it’s you. Just because you’re going speed dating doesn’t mean the guys you meet shouldn’t see exactly who you are.”

As much of a pain in the ass as she was, Piper was still your bestie, since you were in diapers. And she wanted the best for you. She’d pulled out your Harry Potter dress, the one with the first chapter’s words written all over. “Pair that with your cute red flats and the guys will be falling over themselves to get to you and the ones that don’t are stupid.”

You snorted and stepped into the flats, taking yet another glance into the dreaded mirror. “You know you couldn’t have picked a worse time for me to go speed dating,” you said, finally content with your outfit. Within the week, you’d be moving and starting a new job at the local community college. “Next week, dude.”

“Life’s too short to wait,” she said, playfully smacking your butt. “Plus, at least it’s at that kitschy bookstore you love. Now go take a nice relaxing walk and breathe. You’ll be fine. I gotta go to work.”

“Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” you call, hearing the thud of the heavy apartment door close behind her.

After grabbing your red sweater, you headed down the stairs, locking the door behind you. The bookstore was only a few blocks away and it was a beautiful day out, so you decided to take advantage of the sunny weather.

A breeze brushes through your hair as you walk and the sun beats down on your skin. There are a few other people around, but mostly people are at work. You would be too if it weren’t for the whole “new job, new place, new life” kick you were on. Decided to take a few weeks off before starting your new job. 

The entrance to the Old Fox bookstore was as obnoxious as could be, at least when compared to the rest of the stores on the block. The door was painted a bright red, but it was somewhat worn by age. The store opened up during the 60s and it was still just as popular today.

Like the three bears, the store wasn’t a giant chain or a teeny tiny hole in the wall, it was just right. The walls were a muted turquoise, which you’d alway loved. Everyone seemed to think that neutral was the way to go but you’d always been a fan of in your face color - at least after your goth teen years. 

Noise filled the air - not normal for this place - it was always on quiet side, but given the event you weren’t surprised. Seemed to be an equal amount of men and women, which made you feel a little better, not wanting to be outnumbered.

Since there was still a little time to waste before everything started, you figured there wasn’t any harm in looking for another book or two...or five. One of the first things you planned to put up in your new apartment was this scratch-off list, kind of like a lottery ticket, the listed nearly 200 classics. You'd read a lot of them before, but there were still some that you hadn’t, so maybe you could find one and pick it up before the nausea-inducing speed dating began. 

After reading Good Omens, you’d been hankering for another Neil Gaiman book, so you slithered between the masses in the store toward the section in question. American Gods, Anansi Boys, Eternity’s Wheel, you weren’t sure which one to pick. 

All - all was a good choice, right?

The colorful spines of the books called out to you, another one of Gaiman’s works. Your hand crawled along the edges of the nearby books, your hand just brushing up against someone else’s as you reached for The Graveyard Book. “Oh, sorry,” you said, staring up into the face of a beautiful stranger. He was thin and tall with delicate features, but he had a sharp jaw and deep set hazel eyes that were complemented by wavy brown hair. “I’m apparently on a Gaiman binge. Have you read any of his stuff before?”

“Yea,” he replied, eyeing the stack of books already in your hand. “American Gods, Good Omens and Eternity’s Wheel. I tend to read textbooks most of the time, but I’ve been told I should delve into more fun reading, so-”

He cut himself off and took the book off the shelf, offering it to you. “You saw it first.” Aw, gallant, too. “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand. “What brings you here? You live around here?”

Spencer glanced toward the tables set up for speed dating. “No, actually I lost a bet to two friends of mine and if I lost I had to go speed dating. Can’t say I’m all that comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” you laughed. “My friend Piper peer pressured me into it. I don’t drink but somehow she got me to agree to this.”

The owner of the store gave a five minute warning that speed dating was about to start. “So how long will it take you to read those?” He shifted on the balls of his feet, probably nervous, which you understood. 

“Well, I have a few weeks off while I move apartments and start a new job, so these...probably four, five days.” You laughed, feeling every inch the nerd you were. “Been an avid reader since I was a kid. Why do you read textbooks though? Fiction is so much more fun.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute and I’m always trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. Helps with the work I do.”

“Which is?” He was cute and intriguing.

“I’m an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

And smart. Shit. There had to be something wrong with him. Dream guys like this didn’t grow on trees. “Impressive, Spencer. What’s your background in?”

He looked down at the ground, almost like he was embarrassed, speaking softly. “I have BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy, as well as PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. Really smart. Like stupid smart. “That’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” How could that not be amazing? “Why?”

“It’s just that people normally think I’m a freak for having so many.” 

You wanted to punch whoever made him feel that way. “Definitely not a freak, just insanely impressive considering you’re so young.” He couldn’t have been much older than you. Maybe five years at the most.

“I started college when I was 12.”

As the owner called out to start the most awkward dating experience known to man, you turned to Spencer. “Hey, would you maybe want to get out of here? Go grab a cup of coffee? I mean, we both had friends insist we come here, but we never said we actually had to go through with it.”

Tension fell from his shoulders, like he could finally be at ease. “I’d like that. I’m really not good at this whole date thing,” he said nervously. “Just a heads up.”

Both of you shuffled over to the register, so you could pay for your books. “Neither am I, don’t worry. I’d prefer to just magically be in a relationship and not have to work for it, you know?”

“Absolutely, so Y/N, what do you do for a living? What’s the new job?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, well not embarrassed, intimidated. “It’s definitely not as fancy as FBI profiler. I have my master’s degree in English literature. I’m going for a PhD too, but to pay for the half of my doctorate that scholarship won’t, I’m teaching. First, it was an online course through a University in New Hampshire where I’d travel occasionally, even though I live her, but now I got a job at the local community college.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. “What’s the focus on your thesis?”

So few people asked you that. Most people’s eyes glazed over when you talked about books. Everyone except your mom. “Analyzing Othello through the lends of racism as it relates to the Elizabethan period.”

After handing the cashier your money, you and Spencer walked out together, talking about your favorite Shakespeare plays, when he bumped into someone. A muscular, equally tall black guy. “Hey, kid. Funny meeting you here. Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling your end of the deal? You lose, you speed date?”

He was one of Spencer’s friends. That much was obvious. But Spencer looked 1001% done with his bullshit - whatever it was. “Y/N, this is my friend Derek Morgan. We work together at the FBI. Morgan, this is Y/N.”

“Well, hello, Y/N.” A charmer. 

“Good to meet you,” you replied on a laugh. “Technically, he didn’t go speed dating. Neither did I and I promised my friend Piper I would, but...he is leaving with a date.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand, a jolt of something awesome moving through you at his touch. “We’re going for a cup of coffee now actually.”

“Yea, so as you see, I’m the one busy with a woman right now.” Morgan seemed quite the ladies man and Spencer looked mighty proud of himself right now. “See you tomorrow at work?”

“See you tomorrow,” Morgan replied, a note of surprise in his voice. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

“You too. I sense we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

When you both walked away, you pulled The Graveyard Book out of your bag and handed it to Spencer. “You read this first. I think this date might go pretty well, but if you have this, then you have to return it to me and I’m guaranteed to see you again.”

Spencer smiled, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’ll have to thank Morgan for being a pain in my ass.”

“So, you lost a bet?”

“Yea, he bet I couldn’t go a day without spouting statistics and I lost. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Piper just peer pressured me. Guess I’ll have to thank her too.”

The strong, heady scent of coffee began to fill your nostrils as you approached the cafe. When he opened the door, he seemed to finally catch a glimpse of your dress. “Wait, is that the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on your dress?”

“Yup. I’m a Slytherin by the way.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t need a guarantee to see me again, as long as you want to, I think I’m smitten.”

Piper was going to get a big hug later. Maybe dinner. And lots of wine.

[quickspinner]

Second Chance - Ch 1 The One That Got Away

Hello friends! Continuing posting my backlog of work that was posted to AO3 but not Tumblr. You can filter the backlog tag if you don’t want to see these fyi.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Summary: 

It's been years since he last saw Marinette. He's a successful rock star and she's been traveling the world chasing her dreams. Luka thought he had grown up and moved on, but when Marinette lands back in Paris and seeks him out, it takes about ten seconds for him to figure out he can't resist a second chance.

Aged-up, total self-indulgent Lukanette fluff. There will be some implied sexual content later on but nothing explicit. 

The beginning of this first chapter comes from the last chapter of I Will Give You the Stars, and while you don’t have to have read that one first, the two stories do go well together.

Luka tossed his sweaty hair back from his face and looked out at the blinding lights. “Okay guys,” he said into the microphone, picking idly at his guitar. “I think we’re gonna take it down a bit for this next song. But first, can we bring the house lights up please?”

Used to his quirks, the lighting crew responded quickly, dimming the lights in his eyes and turning up the lights on the crowd in the packed stadium.

“That’s better,” Luka said, skimming the crowd of fans waving and screaming wildly. “I know this might be kinda weird if this is your first show with me, but I just like to see you. Put some faces to my audience. This is a two way street, you and me, and I don’t wanna forget that.”

A small crowd of girls off to his right screamed in rehearsed unison, “WE LOVE YOU LUKA!” 

He grinned toward them and winked. “Love you too, sweethearts.” As they shrieked excitedly he looked at the banner they were holding up, decorated with birthday cakes and glittery letters. “Seventeen huh? Nice. Happy birthday, babe.” The girl in the middle of the group wearing a sparkly tiara put her hands over her mouth, eyes huge, while her friends practically mobbed her. Luka chuckled and returned to his perusal of the crowd, meeting as many eyes as he could. Somewhere a group of fans screamed for Juleka and out of the corner of his eye he could see her raise a lace-gloved hand to blow them a kiss. 

Suddenly he locked eyes with a familiar sapphire gaze and the rest of the stadium disappeared. 

“Well hey there, beautiful,” he said softly, ignoring the several ladies in the line of his gaze who swooned or screamed. She knew who he was talking to, a slow smile spreading over her face. “I didn’t know you were back in Paris.” His grin widened as he took in the faces around her. “Wow, check it out Jules, looks like a bunch of old friends came to see us tonight. Awesome.” 

He tore his gaze away with effort, and looked up to the balcony. He couldn’t see faces up there as well, but he let his gaze rake across slowly before nodding. “All right. Now that we know each other, let’s get back to the music, shall we?”

The lighting crew recognized their cue, and the blinding lights were back as the stadium went dark. Luka stepped back from the mic for a moment to take a deep, centering breath, focusing on the vibrations of the stage that he could feel even through his heavy boots, the feel of his guitar in his hands, and the song he could still hear ringing in his mind even though he couldn’t see her anymore.

Then his fingers began to move, and he stepped back up to the mic.

***

They didn’t get to meet their friends that night, which was just as well as far as Luka was concerned. He wasn’t ever at his best right after a show, sweaty and sore and exhausted and he definitely didn’t want to see her looking like he’d just been run over by his tour bus. But Rose—bless beautiful, sweet, romantic Rose—Rose had his back. When Juleka wasn’t looking, Rose slipped a piece of paper in his hand that had a phone number, a time, and the name of his favorite café. “I knew you’d be free in the morning,” she whispered. “I figured you wouldn’t mind missing out on the sleep.”

“You’re the best,” he whispered back, slipping the paper in his pocket as Rose glanced anxiously at Juleka.

Marinette was already waiting outside the next morning as he walked up, looking like she’d walked straight out of his dreams. She caught sight of him and smiled, turning to face him as his heart skipped a few beats.

He was a grown-ass man and a legitimate rock star, and that smile still did things to him. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Luka grinned, opening his arms. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, coming into his arms to hug him and then rising on her toes to exchange cheek kisses. “The show last night was great.”

“It was great to have you guys there,” Luka said, letting her go and opening the café door for her. “I have to admit, I’m getting kinda sick of big shows. I miss connecting with people the way I did when I was playing smaller venues.”

“The price of being a famous rock star,” she said as he pulled out a chair for her at his usual table.

“Not that famous,” he protested, sitting down across from her.

“Pretty famous,” she grinned, leaning her elbows on the table to look up at him. 

He shrugged and grinned at the ground. “Yeah, okay, maybe.”

Marinette smiled. “I’m glad it hasn’t changed you, Luka.”

“So when did you get back in town?” Luka asked, ready to be done talking about himself. 

“Two nights ago.”

“And the first thing you did was come see my show? I’m flattered.”

“Really, I was lucky,” Marinette admitted. “The others got tickets ages ago, before I knew I would be here, but Mylene’s at that stage of pregnancy where she’s falling asleep all the time, so she gave me her ticket. I think Ivan was relieved, actually.”  

Luka picked up her hand. “Marinette, any time you want to come to a performance you know you just have to ask.”

“Says the man who’s changed his number four times in the last year,” she teased. 

Luka winced. “Yeah this whole fame thing really puts a crimp in my social life sometimes. I have a whole new appreciation for what Adrien went through in school. At least not that many people recognize me like this.” He gestured to his casual outfit, black jeans and a plain grey tshirt that were a far cry from his elaborate stage costumes and makeup. “Sometimes people recognize the hair and the ink but mostly I get left alone as long as I keep a low profile.” 

Marinette rested her chin on her hand and smiled up at him. “I like the hair. Must be cooler on stage this way, and it photographs better. Your eyes are too nice to be hidden all the time.”

“So my agent told me,” Luka sighed, running his hand over the short hair beneath the blue tinted locks falling from the top. “And you’re right, it is cooler. I like yours too,” he added, reaching out his free hand to tweak a loose strand on her shoulder. “You look good with it long. Anyway, I’m sorry about the phone thing. I’ll give you my assistant’s number before we leave, she can always put you through if I have to change it again. I don’t want to lose touch with you over something so stupid.”  He realized suddenly that she was blushing, watching his thumb move over her fingers. Fortunately the waiter approached just at that moment, giving him an excuse to let go of her hand casually. 

Luka was a regular here and he chatted easily with the staff as they came and went with water and menus, but he had a hard time keeping his eyes off Marinette. Damn, after all this time she still affected him the same way, drawing him in like a magnet. Like him, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a fitted shirt with a wide neck that left a distracting amount of her freckled shoulders and collarbone bare. She was everything he remembered, just matured, mellowed, more. He’d known in his gut that he was on a high-speed train to heartbreak the minute he’d locked eyes with her in the show.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing since you left,” Luka said as soon as the staff had left with their orders. 

“So many things,” Marinette breathed. “Luka, it was amazing, I learned so much and I got to see and do so much.”

“Tell me,” he murmured, leaning on the table, already entranced by her passion. God, he needed his guitar, he could write whole albums on the look in her eyes right now.

She brightened, pulling out a battered sketchbook. Luka moved his chair around the table to be next to her and propped his chin in his hand, letting her voice wash over him as she took him on a tour of her dreams.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” she asked suddenly, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes that reminded him of the nervous girl who’d walked into his room all those years ago.

“Not in the least,” he told her and he knew he must be giving her some kind of look because her blush spread down to her neckline. 

He was saved from doing something reckless by the arrival of their food. Clearing his throat, he moved back to his end of the table and asked about her parents. 

They talked about their families as they ate, the crazy things Anarka got up to that Luka had to bail her out of (sometimes with the police, once literally when there was a mishap on the boat), how Marinette’s parents had coped with her two-year absence, what their mutual friends had been up to. 

And she told him about the things that hadn’t been so great about her trip, the jet lag and the long hours, picking up from one city and moving on just when she’d finally gotten comfortable, the frustrations of frequently having conversations in English when it was neither conversant’s first language. 

“Every time I’d get depressed I’d feel ungrateful,” she told him, idly picking apart what was left of her food. “Like, so many people entered that competition and out of everyone they chose me to have this fantastic experience in all these different design houses, and there I was acting homesick and lonely.  And...meeting so many new people made me realize how rare and precious my true friends are...and how maybe there were some I didn’t appreciate enough.” She glanced up at him through her lashes, biting her lip, and he swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. 

Before he could, she pushed her plate away and abruptly changed the subject. “So, when are you going to put out another calendar?” She ginned.

Luka groaned and put his face down on the table. “Please tell me you didn’t see one of those.”

“Oh I very much did,” she laughed. “If I can find it once I’m unpacked maybe you’ll sign it for me. October was my favorite, though July was probably the most...hmm...inspiring.” She laughed as he put his arms over his head, partly to cover the brilliant red that he was sure covered his neck and ears. “Luka Couffaine, are you actually embarrassed?”

“Thoroughly,” he said from beneath his arms. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I try really hard to pretend that whole thing never happened, honestly. I felt like such a—“ He shook his head.

“Was it really awful?” She asked, her amusement turning to sympathy.

“I hated every minute of it,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t want to do it but a bunch of things happened at once right then and my family really needed the money. And I figured, better me than Juleka, who knows what they’d have wanted her to do and her fans are way scarier than mine.” He made a face. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll get all pissed at me for getting all big brothery on her.”

“I’m sorry, Luka, I didn’t know.” Marinette reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I won’t tease you about it anymore.”

“Thanks.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “October, huh? That was the black and white one, right? That one wasn’t so bad. At least it was artistic. And I got to wear actual pants.”

Marinette giggled. “And you made them look good. It was a good picture. Sexy, but soulful. And with the guitar and the ripped jeans, it felt like I was seeing you, and not a stranger who kinda looked like you, you know.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Honestly it wasn’t the pictures I minded so much, my agent kept the really embarrassing ones out of it and we made sure they were destroyed, just I could have lived without being treated like a doll without any feelings or dignity.” 

“Mmm, I see that a lot. A lot of designers and stylists stop seeing models as people. I guess knowing Adrien for so many years made it hard for me to think that way. The designers I was shadowing got really frustrated with me because of it.”

“Maybe I’m hopelessly optimistic but I think your way will pay off in the end.” He winked at her. “I can guarantee that if I ever have to do anything like that again, I’ll be calling you to be my stylist. If this tour weren't already under contract I’d hire you on the spot.” 

Marinette kicked him under the table. “You’re biased, Luka.”

“Always have been when it comes to you. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Luka,” she began and then hesitated. He waited patiently, though curiosity was eating him alive as she licked her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen I know you’re really busy and your schedule’s kind of crazy and it was already super nice of you to make time to have lunch with me—“ Luka had to cover the smile tugging at his lips with his hand at this very Marinette ramble. “But I was wondering, if you might want to have dinner with me, um...as a date.” She swallowed and looked up at him and he could not believe that she thought for one second he might actually say no.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, reaching out to take her hand. “I mean I do have to check my schedule, but I’ll make time. I’ll call you? Probably not tonight, but no later than tomorrow evening, I promise.”

His phone alarm went off in his pocket before he’d even finished speaking, and he sighed, pulling it out.

“You have to go?” Marinette smiled crookedly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, silencing the alarm and putting his phone away. He reached across the table and took her both hands in his. “It’s been great seeing you again Marinette. I’m so glad we’ve been able to catch up.” He kissed her hands as he stood up. “I’ll call you soon, okay?” 

“Was everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Couffaine?” 

Luka turned, grasping the hand offered by the suited man behind him. “Fantastic as always, Gerard, and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Luka?” Gerard smiled under his mustache but didn’t reply. “Please let the lady have whatever she’d like for dessert on my tab, okay?” 

“Of course, Mr. Couffaine.”

Luka rolled his eyes and smiled back at a Marinette one more time with a quick wave, her own smile warming him as he turned to go.

The minute the studio's car service picked him up, his phone was in his hand.  “Lucille,” he said when his assistant picked up, hoping she couldn’t hear the idiotic grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m on my way, but have you got a few minutes? Can you run me through what my schedule looks like? I need you to free up an evening for me in the next week.”

It took more than a few minutes, and he had to cancel three meetings and move back a rehearsal, but he could not bring himself to care. 

Because when the one that got away suddenly walks back into your life and asks you out, who gives a crap about meetings?

[libertarian-druid-ny-separatist]

So, yesterday a friend of mine had literally perfect timing. Had he been 15 seconds later I’d be dead. Just now he suggested that with my luck I should try playing the lottery. It’s $2 a ticket and I could win almost a billion. If I do the cash now it goes down to $250 million but if I get paid yearly then it goes up to the full amount of $800 million paid out over 20 years.

That means I’d have an annual income of $40 million and if I die in the next 20 years I can leave whatever is left to whoever I want.

I’ve lost track of how many times I should have died in my life only to be saved by someone else having perfect timing.

I don’t know if it’s one of my patron deities looking out for me or a dead ancestor but someone wants me alive for something and just gives me amazing luck.

So basically what I’m saying is, I’m going to start playing the lotto and if I win somehow, I’ll be opening an actual temple here in Vermont. It will be the only official temple in the US for Celtic polytheists. And when it gets burnt down as they always do, I’ll be able to replace it 400 times a year or more.

I’ll buy every home on my road for a million each, being that there’s only 20 on this road that will leave me with a budget of $19988000 to build a temple after paying about $60k for taxes and $12k for my own personal bills, gas, and food money bringing the total to $19,916,000 annually for the next 20 years.

The actual reason I’m writing this is to decide if this is a good idea or not. And that’s only one way I could do this. I could just buy a nice car, invest most of the rest and get high speed net up where I live then spend 40 million the next year on whatever I want.

I could buy all the houses and just block off what would then be my road, name it Epona Ave and pave it and get high speed net out here. As it sits I’m happy being more or less alone out here. But I could turn several houses into domestic abuse shelters for men and women.

Or I could just think of me, buy my neighbors’ houses and use their land for both hunting and making a forge then use one house to destroy and make a luxury garage with my favorite cars.

Or I could buy all the houses and give them to friends and family that I like. So basically mom, my uncle, my grandma and a few friends. Pay their taxes for the first year or two while they find a job, and go from there.

The amount of money I’d earn in a year is more than I’d know what to do with. But one thing is for sure.

I’m bringing Popeyes to Vermont if I win. And with the money I’ll be making personally, I can afford to donate profits or put them back into the restaurant or open more Popeyes.

And best part is that I could afford to help a couple of friends I’ve met here and while gaming leave their countries with whoever they want.

I’d have more than enough money to really change some things. Wouldn’t necessarily make me happy, but I’d be a lot closer than I ever have been. And maybe I could get @mojave-red to move to Vermont.