#huh. just noticed the irony of that last one what with the band name

[tomsmusictaste]

The Weekly Emo Calendar:

• “No-one is sober on a Monday” Monday

• “Droppin’ into Hell on a Tuesday” Tuesday

• “On Wednesdays we wear hazmat suits” Wednesday

• “No typical Thursday night” Thursday

“She’ll always be his girl, his girl Friday” Friday

• “Saturday when these open doors were open ended” Saturday

“Another suicide Sunday” Sunday

[suchalonelysunflower]

You’re the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I’m singing (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings X Fem!Reader

Summary: Luke needs help writing a song, luckily you’re there to help him. You just hope your feelings for him won’t interfere in the writing process.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst if you blink. The reader uses she/her pronouns. Language, invasion of privacy, unprotected sex (don’t do it guys) oral female reciving. Maybe some grammatical errors (English it’s not my first language, sorry)

Word count: 4.5k

Author’s Note: Hello ✨ I’ve been working with this Luke piece since August and I finally stop procrastinating in order to finish it 🎉 Reblogs, comments, feedbacks and likes are always welcome and encouraged! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻

My materialist // Wanna be on my tag list?

He did it.

After almost two weeks of not getting anything good out of his head Luke finally beat the writer’s block.

He jumped out of his seat in the island kitchen and ran towards his music room with a very excited Petunia walking behind him with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Luke grabbed his notebook and started writing as soon as his ass hit the cushions of the little sofa he had there, getting already lost in the sound.

His eyes filled with joy as he wrote down the melody, muttering some words to go along with it and bobbing his head as the rhythm got better and better. He couldn’t feel prouder.

It wasn’t like him to have such a strong writer‘s block, whenever it happened his band mates were there to help him get through it. However, this time they weren’t here, they were still at the studio where he was supposed to be.

It was an unanimous decision, they all new Luke wasn’t at his best, always getting frustrated and closing himself up to others, refusing any help until he could come up with something on his own, so they recommended him to rest at home for a couple days before he totally burns out and, reluctantly, he agreed.

But all of that self pity ended now that he got a melody going on and a few lyrics written down. To say that he was in cloud nine was an understatement.

A few moments later his phone started ringing. He was doing so well that he didn’t think to answer it until he saw your name pop up.

“Leech!” He said with a smile once he picked up.

You scrunch your nose at the old nickname. You have known the man for at least 19 years and he still refuses to let go of the fact that you didn’t want to be his friend at the beginning because someone told you boys had leeches hidden in their pockets.

But, alas, you knew the nickname was not going anywhere so you decided to ignore it just this time “Hello, Hems!”

“I’m so glad you called! Just in time, actually” He said cheerfully.

“Well someone sounds happy for a change” You chuckled “What’s gotten you so amicable today, love?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone, you need to come in order to know what it is” Luke teased, not needing to see your face to know that you were rolling your eyes at him.

You chuckled again “Good thing I’m on my way then with some pizza. I’ll be there in approximately one Jonas Brothers’ song”

He laughed “You’re too good to me”

You sighed when he ended the call just a few seconds later “Only if you knew…”

You hated the cliche of falling for your best friend, but in your defense: your best friend was Luke Hemings, how could you not?

Once “Lovebug” ended you found yourself parking in his driveway. You shook your head at the irony of it all as you grabbed the pizza box and headed to the door. You were about to knock when suddenly he opened the door, flashing you one of his signature smiles that made your tummy feel weird.

“Were you waiting by the door?” You asked as you extended your arm to give him a side hug, which he gladly took and hugged you back, bringing you even closer to him. You just hoped he couldn’t feel the loud beatings of your heart.

“By the window, actually” Luke laughed as he took the pizza box from you and walked to the kitchen, placing it on top of the counter “I just can’t wait to show you what I got!”

You could see how excited he was, the gleam in his eyes was everlasting as he talked and his smile reached his eyes with ease, making little wrinkles appear by the sides of them. You smiled back at him and nodded, letting him lead the way.

He quickly took your hand, almost running as he guided you to his mini studio. You sat on his sofa, petting Petunia as he accommodated himself and his guitar.

“I figured it out!” Luke said with pride in his eyes “I conquered the block!”

“Luke that’s amazing!” You knew he was struggling a lot lately, that was one of the main reasons you checked up on him more often this past few weeks “Omg, I can’t wait to hear it!”

Luke nodded and wasted no time in starting playing his new song.

“I thought I had it all, thought I let you go. But truth be told, I’m just a fool in a one man show”

You listened carefully to what he was saying, loving the lyrics already before you started noticing something weird in the melody… there was something familiar in it, but you couldn’t pinpoint what.

“The secrets I held. The lies I told myself. All were worth it cause it meant I get to see your face”

Once the chorus started, you knew where you’ve heard this before.

Luke was staring at you the whole time since he started singing, wanting nothing more than his best friend’s approval, but was met with your concerned face as he continued.

“I never give you away, cause I’ve already made that mistake. If-“ He stopped completely when he saw the way you were looking at him “You hate it.”

“What?” You asked, taken by surprise by his hurt face.

“You can tell me if it’s bad, you know? I won’t get mad or anything but-“

You cut him off, shaking your head as you place your hand on his thigh “No, Luke. It’s not that at all”

“Then what, Y/N?” He said, putting his guitar away from him “Cause you don’t give me that look unless you’re feeling somewhat uncomfortable. I know the lyrics need arrangements and-“

“Luke!” You interrupted his rambling one again, knowing how he gets when he’s flustered “The lyrics are fine! Everything is fine! I really liked that last line you sang. But…”

“But?”

You sighed “Let me show you something”

You took your phone out of your bag and started searching through your songs until you found what you were looking for “Please, don’t be mad” You begged with a sigh as you pressed play on one of Taylor Swift’s songs.

Luke didn’t understand what you were talking about until he heard the first few chords of the song. His eyes winded as plates as he listened to the melody he swore he just invented out of the blue, a deep disappointment came across him at the realization he just repeated a melody that someone else already created.

You paused the song when you noticed his expression change all of the sudden. The gleam in his eyes completely disappeared as a dark gloom clouded his blue irises “Luke?” You asked, but the tall blonde was already getting up and started walking out of the studio “Luke!”

You followed him into the hall, where you could catch a glimpse of him tugging on his curls and cursing to himself. You called his name again with no avail, he wasn’t listening as he drowned in self pity and embarrassment.

“I should’ve known!” He said loudly this time “Fuck! It was too good to be true”

“It’s okay, Lu-“ You tried, but he quickly turned around and cut you off.

“It’s not okay, Y/N!” He yelled, making you take a step back. It wasn’t like him to get so angry to the point of yelling, but you can’t say that you don’t understand his frustration “When is plagiarism ever okay?! I’m such a fucking idiot”

“Hey, no, no, no, no, no” You interrupted, standing on your tiptoes to grab him by his shoulders and make him look at you “You won’t talk about my best friend like that”

Luke looked away, not wanting to meet your eyes at this moment. So you took matters into your own hands, literally, and placed your palms on his cheeks, softly squeezing them together and forcing him to look at you “The song is great” You said “Yes, the melodies are similar but you can work on that. You’re Luke Hemmings for crying out loud!”

He placed his hands over yours and pushed them away in a soft movement, not letting go of you as he did “Well, Luke Hemmings can’t write a song even if his life depended on it” He sighed, more calmed now “I don’t know what to do! I don’t even know if there is something I could do”

You thought for a second “Maybe not,” You said “But there might be something we could do”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows “Huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded “I know I basically know nothing about melodies and composing a song. But I know a lot about poems and writings!” You said with a smile “I also know that you’ve been having a rough time lately and I just want to help in every way I can. I hate to see you like this, Luke. Let me help you?”

He stared at you and immediately knew that he couldn’t say no to your pleasing eyes. The fact that you wanted to help him took him by surprise, but he should’ve known, you have the biggest heart on earth and he knew he could count on you, always. Hell, you even moved to another continent to support him and his friends. You were always there for him, always taking care of him while also making fun of him and just being the best friend there is. And now you wanted to help him get over his writer's block? He could kiss you right now!

“Woah, slow down tiger” You laughed “We need to make a song first”

Did he say that out loud? Oh shit.

“I- just. Um-“ He rambled, trying to hide the pink that colored his cheeks “Thank you”

You just nodded and walked towards the kitchen, part of it because you were still hungry, but in reality it was to hide the way you couldn’t stop smiling.

“C’mon, Hems! Time to write a song”

**

You have seriously underestimated the whole writing and composing process of a song. How could Taylor Swift make it look so easy?!

It’s been almost a week and you have been staying with Luke 24/7 locked inside his little studio as you revise song idea after song idea, going back and towards without really going anywhere and only getting out to walk Petunia, eat and go to the bathroom. Once one of you gets too tired you decide to take a nap in Luke's bedroom like you always do since you were kids. None of this served as much help to calm down your feelings towards the tall Australian. In fact, you are almost sure they grew stronger than before.

You couldn’t help but get lost in him. Every subtle movement he makes; how he licks his lips and bites them every time he is concentrating on something; how his fingers move so smoothly on the guitar or the piano; how he hums to himself in that melodic voice that gives you chills everytime you listen to it… But there is also the way his eyes linger on you for more than a second; how he lays his head on your shoulder and starts playing with your hand; how he cuddles with you at night and always gives you one kiss on the cheek every morning and every night. He’s got you hooked and he doesn’t even know it.

“What do you think of this, little leech?” The oblivious man called, making you break away from your thoughts as he played some notes on the piano.

It was a sweet melody, melancholic but comforting.

“So we are settled that it’s going to be a balad?” You ask once he's done.

He pressed his lips together in a fine line “Not sure, feels like it’s missing something”

“Almost like a breakdown of other instruments, right?” You ask and he smiles.

“It’s almost like you can read my mind, love”

You smiled, hiding your blushed cheeks from his sight as your gaze drifted back to your little notebook of poems. And, almost without noticing, you start humming.

“Mmmh, Hope and I pray, darling that you will stay… butterfly lies..”

“Take them away” Luke finishes for you. He slowly gets up and sits right next to you, placing his head on your shoulders as you close your book “You’re really good with this,” He said, interlocking his fingers with yours “Why won’t you let me see more of your writings?”

He lifted his other hand to try to snatch the book out of your hands, but you were faster and put it out of his reach “Cause! It’s private” You laughed “Don’t want you to laugh at me or something”

“I could never laugh at you,” He said softly.

You turn your head to the side and almost choke on air as you notice his proximity, making you hyper aware of his breath on your lips and the way he was looking into your eyes, almost like if he wanted to say something but didn’t have the words to do it.

“Luke, I-“ You said in a whisper, his eyes fixed on your lips as he hummed “I- I think I’m a little bit hungry…” You lied, not knowing exactly what to do.

Luke just looked at you and nodded, not hiding his disappointment as he separated himself a little bit so you could both head out to the kitchen. Once there, he went to the stereo and connected his phone so you could have a more relaxing atmosphere.

You started making dinner, nothing too elaborate but complicated enough so you could focus on that rather than what just happened between you two. You knew you were just friends to him, so this new change in his demeanor was surprising and confusing to say the least.

Suddenly, your favorite song started playing. It was an old jazz song that reminded you of home and soon enough you found yourself humming along.

Luke stared at you as you prepared the meal, completely awestruck as he heard you sing softly along the lyrics. He smiled to himself and walked up to you, offering you his hand before asking: “Dance with me?”

You chuckled as you took his hand and let him guide you to the living room. He placed his hand on your lower back as he held your palm with the other one. You placed your free hand on his shoulder and let him guide you through the melody, already feeling the beating of your heart go ten times faster than it should.

You softly placed your head on his chest, relaxing as you felt the vibrations of his soft voice singing along as you slowly danced together.

“I like this” He murmured while his hand caressed your back and his chin rested on your head, placing a little kiss to it.

“Me too”

**

You got out of the shower and put on one of Luke’s shirts, ready to get on the bed and let all your thoughts rest for the day as you drift to sleep. You sighed as you looked in the mirror and tried to calm your feelings down, hoping that this time your heart will listen.

You headed to Luke’s room, wanting nothing more than to lay down and relax. But you never expected to see what you saw.

When Luke noticed that you had came into the room he quickly closed your notebook and placed it on your side of the bed, hoping that you didn’t realize what he was doing.

“Luke, what the fuck!?” You asked in an angry tone as you walked to the bed and grabbed your notebook in your hands “I told you this was private! How could you betray my trust like that?!”

Luke looked terrified, he never liked you angry, especially if you were angry at him. He tried to speak, but you quickly turned around and started grabbing all your things and put it in the bag you brought to stay over.

“Wha-What are you doing?” He asked confused.

“I’m going home” You said in a huff, turning around to put on your leggings and shoes.

“What?!” Luke jumped from his side of the bed and almost ran to you “Y/N, please. I’m sorry! I didn’t know it meant that much to you!” You ignored him “Please don’t go! It was a mistake, I’m sorry!”

You glared at him “I asked you not to do it! God, Luke! This is a total invasion of my privacy. Best friends don’t do that to each other!”

You tried to walk past him, but he quickly grabbed your arm and made you stop “Well best friends tell each other everything, don’t you think?!” Now he seemed angry as well.

“What haven’t I told you?!”

Luke rolled his eyes, letting go of your arm “Uh, I don’t know! Maybe the fact that you are in love with someone and you didn’t tell me?!”

You were taken aback by his words, furrowing your brows in confusion. He took your silence as a sign to continue.

“The poems, the writings you have there… They are beautiful and heartbreaking, Y/N” He explained, much more calmed “All those words are impossible to write unless you feel what you are writing. The message is right there, clear as water and you didn’t want me to read it. Why?”

His blue eyes seemed like a storm when he looked at you. You could tell he was hurting from all of this, couldn’t he tell who those writings are for?

“Why do you think? You blabbering idiot?” You asked softly, eyes meeting the floor, hoping he got the message.

Luke’s whole demeanor softened and he took in your words. His heart was beating fast as he took two steps to be completely in front of you.

He cupped your cheeks into his hands and made you look at him, telling you everything you need to know with just one look.

“Luke-“ He didn’t have you time to respond as he captured your lips with his, making you drop your stuff to the ground as you started kissing him back.

You placed your hands on the back of his head, softly caressing his curls as he deepened the kiss, parting your lips so he could explore your mouth as he wished for so many years now and making you let out a soft moan as he did so.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this” He said, kissing you once again “I thought I was being too obvious”

You chuckled “Well, not obvious enough, Hemmings” You pecked his lips one more time.

He smiled into the kiss as he let his hands wander down your back, softly squeezing your ass as he started walking you towards the bed, letting you fall delicately as he hovered over you.

You whimpered as you felt his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, sucking lightly and leaving marks wherever he went.

“Luke, what-?” You moaned, tangling your fingers around his curls and pulling him up to meet your gaze “What does this mean for us? What does this make us?”

Without wasting a breath he said confidently “I want to make you mine, love. If you let me, would you be mine? And I’ll be yours”

You looked at him in the eyes and you swore you’d never fallen harder than this.

You nodded “I was always yours, my love”

Luke smiled as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, bringing your lips together in a kiss filled with love, passion and need. All that you guys ever wanted from each other.

You could feel his other hand wandering around under your/his shirt, softly caressing your breast and making you moan.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asked, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You nodded and wasted no time in getting rid of the fabric, throwing it somewhere around the room before his lips started marking his way down your neck again, this time with hunger as he trailed down from your throat to your breast, kissing one of them as his hand massaged the other, switching from time to time so none of them gets neglected for long.

Your soft moans and whimpers were music to his ears as he felt his erection growing harder with every little breath that came over your mouth. You could feel his erection through his pants, making you groan as you moved your hips to get some kind of friction where you needed it the most.

Luke noticed your little desperate movements and smirked as he let his hand travel down your stomach, ghosting over your sensitive bund over your clothes.

“Is this okay?” He asked when his fingers started pulling down the waistband of your leggings and panties.

“Yes,” You whimpered “Yes, Luke. Please”

You lifted your hips to help him take off your clothes completely, leaving you naked under him.

Luke sucked on a breath and moaned once he got a glimpse of your naked body “So perfect” He whispered, kissing your forehead “So beautiful” He kissed your lips, only to continue kissing down on your body till he reached your aching pussy “So wet for me, my love” He moaned before placing a kiss on your clit, making you thrust your hips at the sudden touch.

He grabbed your hips and pin them down as he started fucking into you with his tongue. Sucking and licking at all the right spots in a rhythm that made you see stars.

You grabbed onto his curls and brought him closer to you. Moaning his name over and over again “Luke,” You pant “I need more, Luke. Please”

Luke got the message as he added a finger to his ministrations, pumping in and out of your entrance “Is this good, Y/N?” But his question was answered by a sinful moan of yours “Talk to me, love” He said, adding another finger.

“Fuck! So good, Luke” You moaned, letting your head fall on the soft pillow “So. Fucking. Good”

He continued to pump his fingers into you at a fast pace while his mouth was locked on your clit, sucking and licking it with delight like it was his favorite meal. Groaning as he felt you clench around his digits when he hit one special spot inside you “Are you close, beautiful?”

You whimpered and nodded in return, not being able to form a coherent sentence at this moment of pure ecstasy.

“Cum for me, my love” He said, kissing the inside of your thigh and speeding his pace “Cum all over my fingers” And so you did.

Luke groaned as he felt your juices drip past his fingers and onto the mattress, swearing that he’s never seen such a prettier sight than your face right now.

You whined as he pulled his digits out of you, but the tight knot in your belly grew as you heard him pulling out his pants and sliding back between your legs.

His face was mere inches from yours once he settled back on the bed and on top of you. You smiled.

“Hi” You said, trying to catch your breath after your first orgasm.

“Hey” He smiled, kissing your forehead and pressing his against yours “Are you sure you want this?” He asked “Its okay if you don’t and we can stop whenever you-“

You shut him off with a kiss “I want this” You said in a whisper “I want you”

That was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly he started sliding into you, making you both moan because of the stretch.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stopping when he saw your face wincing in pain.

You nodded “So big, need a minute” You said. Luke understood and started pepper kissing your face, not leaving any space untouched until you gave him the go-to to keep going.

Luke groaned as he bottom down, giving you a minute to get used to his length. You were moaning his name as you felt him deep inside you, quickly replacing the pain with pleasure.

“Move. Please, Luke” You begged.

He started moving his hips at a slow pace, not wanting to hurt you if he went too hard too fast. It was only when you wrapped your legs around his waist and brought him closer to you that he got the message.

“Faster, fuck. Please, go faster!” You moaned into his ear. Every little sound you made going straight to his cock, quickening the pace as he started fucking you fast and rough.

Your moans became higher pitch as you got closer and closer to your climax. Your nails ran down his back, leaving red trails for you to trace later.

“Fuck, Y/N” Luke groaned “I’m so close, love”

His hips started thrusting relentlessly, chasing his climax as well as yours, making the bed hit the wall with every thrust of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum” You moaned with every move of his hip “I’m gonna cum, Luke. Oh god”

You let out a pornographic moan as you felt your walls clench around his cock, letting go all over him as you tried to catch your breath in all your euphoria.

Soon enough you felt Luke’s thrusts become sloppy and harder, twitching inside you as he painted your walls with his release as he moaned your name over and over again.

He grabbed your cheek and pulled your face closer to him so you could kiss as you ride down your highs, whispering sweet praises to each other as he pulled out of you and cuddled you close.

“That was…”

“I know”

You both laughed softly as Luke kissed your cheek and got up to bring a warm cloth to clean you up and also grabbing a shirt so you could sleep more comfortably. He laid down beside you and pulled you closer to him, kissing the shell of your ear until you both drifted to sleep.

You woke up a couple of hours later, feeling the other side of the bed cold as ice. You looked for Luke around the room but were unable to find him. The wheels in your head started turning as you looked around the room, that’s when you heard the soft sound of the piano playing in the background.

With a shake of your head you got up and started making your way to the grand piano he had in his living room and, sure enough, Luke was sitting there writing the song.

“Inspiration struck?” You asked, making him jump at the sound of your voice.

He visibly relaxed as he saw you walk up to him in nothing but his shirt “Needed to write it down” He said, kissing your lips as you sat next to him.

You looked at the music sheets he got scattered around “You almost finished? How?”

“Turns out I just needed my muse by my side. Admitting my love for her was the only thing I needed to finally get everything right again”

You blushed at his words and pulled him closer for another kiss “Will you sing it to me?” He nodded.

“Lover of mine..”

Tag: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

[beautiful-and-terrible]

dazed ‘n‘ confused (part 3)

A/N: 3500 fuckin’ words y’all lmaooo i am so stupidly invested in this dumbass and his hot neighbor.

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC

Warnings: underage drinking / drug usage, dubious consent (both parties inebriated), swearing, etc.

---

Nicole shouldn’t have worried so much about what to wear. When she showed up in Rodrick’s garage, his friends Ben and Chris were there, both dressed in ripped jeans and flannel shirts paired over band t-shirts. By comparison, Nicole’s black skater skirt and combat boots felt almost fancy.

“Hey, I’m Ben,” the dark-haired one holding a red electric guitar came up to her and gave her a fist bump. She almost laughed, not having fist-bumped anyone since she was 13. “Nicole,” she replied, smiling.

“I’m Chris!” the blonde called over, waving, before turning back to adjusting his microphone and checking the settings on their audio.

Rodrick seemed to appreciate her style, at least. He came through the garage door, carrying a four-pack of Monster energy and whistled, giving her a quick up-and-down glance, “Hey, groupie.”

Nicole punched his arm as he walked by. “I came here to listen to you play, so… play.”

“Your wish is my command,” Rodrick said with a dramatic bow.

Nicole found a relatively comfortable spot as far from the speakers as she could get - this wasn’t a concert, but loud speakers could still be painful after an extended period of time. The clack of Rodrick’s drumsticks alerted her, and before she knew it there was a blast of noise and a blur of limbs.

Honestly, he wasn’t bad, Nicole thought to herself after they had played a few songs. He could use a little more control, but what musician didn’t get caught up in their music? Glancing outside, Nicole saw that it was finally growing dark out. The sky had turned a soft purple, and she could see a few fireflies flashing in the cooling grass. She checked the time on her phone - 9:15.

“Hey, do you guys know Caitlin?” she asked the group. They turned to look at her.

“Caitlin Irving or Caitlin Peters?” Ben asked, taking an impressive gulp of Monster before burping loudly. The boys fell into fits of laughter. Nicole couldn’t help laughing, too.

“I don’t know her last name, she works at Starbucks, though.”

“Ohhhhhh, Caitlin! Yeah, we know her. Why?”

“She invited me to a party tonight, but I don’t really know anyone but her. Would you guys wanna be my plus-three?”

Ben and Chris high-fived each other, and Rodrick saluted her with his drumstick, whacking himself in the head in the process. Nicole hid a laugh behind her hand, not wanting to embarrass him. “For sure, Nikky. As long as there's drinks, we’ll be there,” Chris said. 

“C’mon, we can take my van,” Rodrick said, shoving his drumsticks in his back pocket and running inside to grab his keys. The other boys started down the driveway toward the white van, garishly painted with the band's name on the side in bold, black letters.

When Rodrick returned, Nicole gave him a smug look. “I thought it needed repairs?”

Rodrick stopped walking mid-stride, looking like a puppet caught on its strings. “Uh. Yeah. Well. My dad helped, when you were over at your house. Getting ready. It’s fine now. He’s the best mechanic I know.”

“Uh-huh. You sure you didn’t just… want to ride home with me from work?”

Rodrick scoffed. “You wish.” But as he rounded the front of the car to the drivers side, you caught the scarlet color of his cheeks against his tan skin. As if he could be any more endearing, he even offered Nicole shotgun. Chris grumbled the entire time, but begrudgingly gave you the seat he had worked so hard to acquire. 

“First stop - Capital. Ben has a fake, so we can BYOB,” Rodrick said, practically peeling out of the driveway. Nicole clutched the seat for dear life, heart stuck in her throat.

“Are you sure this thing is secure?” she squeaked, feeling the seat shaking a little in its bolts.

“No one has been ejected yet, Nikky,” Rodrick laughed.

“Go-go gadget get me the fuck out of here,” Nicole groaned, planting her feet on the floor to try and stop herself from flying forward as Rodrick squealed to a stop in front of a seedy looking liquor store.

Ben barely avoided taking the sliding door off its tracks when he opened the door. Chris lit a cigarette in the back, the acrid scent wafting to the front of the van. Nicole didn’t mind the smell much - honestly it reminded her of her Grandmother's house - but she hoped the smell didn’t linger on her clothes. That would be hard to explain to her mom. Speaking of, she sent off a quick text to her parents telling them that she’d be back late. Luckily, Nicole had always been the responsible type, so her parents trusted her to make good decisions and as a result, let her have free reign of her life (especially now that she was 18).

Ben returned after a few minutes, carrying a 24 pack of Natty Light and lighting his own cigarette.

“You have the address?” Rodrick asked, and you showed him Caitlins text.

“Yo, that's in Heather Hill’s neighborhood. Maybe we can tee-pee her house later,” Rodrick said, already zooming off again.

“Heather Hills?”

“Major bitch,” Chris called from the back of the van. Rodrick shrugged. “She’s not a bitch she’s just… not very nice.”

Nicole laughed, “You don’t have to defend the honor of all women by not calling her a bitch. If she’s a bitch, I believe you.”

Rodrick looked at you out of the corner of his eye, thinking briefly.

“Yeah, she’s a stone-cold bitch. She ran over my foot once. With her car.” 

Nicole grimaced in sympathy.

“Last year, we played at her Sweet Sixteen party, and Rodrick broke her ice sculpture bust. It was awesome,” Ben said.

“Oh, so you aren’t always perfect?” Nicole teased. Rodrick flipped her off.

Soon, they pulled up in front of Caitlin’s house. Nicole could already hear loud music from outside the house, and there were rainbow strobe lights flashing in the windows. Swallowing her nervousness, she followed Rodrick, Chris and Ben up the front walkway.

As they walked in the house, Nicole was hit by the fragrant, herbal smell of weed. From far away, the music had seemed loud, but coming in the house the music seemed to vibrate her ribcage - it was something with a repetitive bass, stuff Nicole didn’t normally listen to but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She followed Rodrick further into the house, trying to find the kitchen, weaving between people dancing and couples making out.

There were people surrounding an island in the center of the kitchen, decorated with colorful bottles of liquor and sodas to mix with. Nicole spotted Caitlin talking to a tall black guy, drinking out of a red solo cup. Nicole gave her a wave, and Caitlin excitedly came over to greet her.

“Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”

“Yeah, me too. I haven’t actually ever been to a high school party.”

Caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Well, you’re gonna have one hell of a first high school party experience, girly. Let's get you a drink.”

Caitlin turned to the kitchen island and poured about four shots of rum and filled the rest with coke in a red solo cup. Nicole took a sip. She could barely tell it was spiked, so she took a few more chugs and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Caitlin asked, and Nicole nodded before following her back to the living room. Already, the rum was making her limbs feel looser and her brain fuzzy. She finished the rest of it in one go, enjoying the feeling of her nervousness and insecurities fading away. Nicole had never been unpopular, per say, but she tended to stay to herself and only had a few close friends at her old school, anyway. It was refreshing to feel included, and she couldn’t help feeling that this was the way her teenage years were supposed to be - loud and exciting and living moment to moment.

As they danced, Nicole swaying in place and occasionally spinning around, she couldn’t help but feeling a little awkward. Caitlin was actually a really good dancer - she knew how to move her body in all the right ways so they hit on beat with the music. Nicole envied her easy grace, but was quickly relieved when Caitlin accidentally bumped into someone, causing them to spill their drink. Nicole stifled a laugh, not at Caitlin’s expense, just at the irony of the timing. At least Nicole wasn’t the only clutz. 

They had been dancing for only a few minutes before Nicole felt a hand on her waist, making her jump slightly.

“Hey, the guys and I are gonna smoke some weed in the backyard. Do you wanna come?” Rodrick said. His voice was almost in her ear, close enough that she could hear him over the blaring music, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. 

She turned around to face him - in the dim light of the house, he looked much more appealing than usual - she hadn’t even noticed he had put eyeliner on, but it made the dark of his eyes look even more obsidian. Nicole nodded, giving a thumbs up, and pulled Caitlin along with her.

“I need you for moral support,” Nicole said, making Caitlin laugh.

“Have you ever smoked weed before?” Caitlin asked.

“Nope.”

Caitlin raised her eyebrows and pulled her closer as they walked to whisper in her ear.

“Okay, take a small hit the first time, don’t try to impress anyone. But breathe it fully into your lungs - I like to start by pulling it into my mouth first, and then inhaling fully. And if you cough, don’t worry, almost everyone does their first time.”

Nicole gave her a grateful look as they approached the circle of people sitting on lawn chairs in the backyard. Ben and Chris were already there, with two other girls Nicole didn’t know. However, there seemed to only be two more lawn chairs available to sit on.

Nicole was about to plop down on the grass before Caitlin grabbed her hand.

“You should sit on Rodrick’s lap,” she whispered, and Nicole almost choked on her drink.

“What?” 

“Dude, he’s totally into you - I don’t know what your sitch is, but I think he’s probably a little nervous about making the first move. Just do it, and if he asks, say ‘sorry, there weren’t enough seats and I don’t wanna get bug bites from the grass.”

Nicole stared at her, mouth agape. The alcohol in her brain was telling her it might not be the worst idea ever. And you know what? Fuck it. You’re only young once. Nicole made up her mind, and squeezing Caitlin’s hand, she walked over to where Rodrick was sitting before primly making herself comfortable on his thigh.

She felt him tense beneath her immediately, before his hand came up to her waist to steady her. Before he had the chance to say anything about it, the joint was passed to him, and he took an impressive hit, the cherry glowing red at the end for several seconds. Nicole watched him with interest, hoping she wouldn’t mess up too badly and embarrass herself. 

Rodrick looked up at her as he exhaled the smoke, holding the joint out to her. Not paying attention, and entranced by the eye contact they were holding, she reached out to take the joint without looking and promptly burned her hand on it.

“Fucker,” she hissed, shaking her hand to try and get rid of the pain. Rodrick just laughed.

“Do you want help?” Rodrick asked, before taking another hit of the joint. He reached up behind Nicole’s head, threading his fingers through her hair, before pulling her down close to his face, their lips inches apart. Nicole instinctively opened her mouth, half from surprise and half in anticipation of being kissed. But Rodrick simply blew a steady stream of smoke into her mouth, - their lips didn’t make contact. Belatedly, Nicole realized she was supposed to be inhaling, so she did quickly, trying to hold the smoke in her lungs for as long as possible. 

Somebody wolf-whistled in the group. Nicole was pretty sure it was Caitlin.

Eventually, she ended up coughing it out, Rodrick rubbing her back but still laughing.

“You’re a green at the green, huh?” Rodrick asked, and Nicole rolled her eyes.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah, but it’s cute. I’m glad you’re having your first high with me,” Rodrick said, smiling sweetly. Nicole’s stomach fluttered. Already, she could tell that this wasn’t alcohol she was feeling anymore - the buzz she had been feeling earlier was replaced by something much slower and velvety, like the world was moving through maple syrup.

“Dude,” Nicole said after a minute, realizing she had been staring at nothing. Rodrick looked at her. She looked at him. They both started cracking up laughing.

“What are we laughing at?” Nicole hiccuped through her laughter.

“No idea,” Rodrick said, wiping his eyes free of tears of mirth.

“Rodrick, pass the J,” Ben called out, breaking the two of them from their trance. Without thinking about it, Nicole leaned back onto Rodrick’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his body. It wasn’t a cold night, per say, but Nicole was only wearing a skirt and a t-shirt, and she had always had poor circulation. She shivered involuntarily.

“Do you want my flannel?” Rodrick asked, already taking it off. Nicole sat up, ruffling his hair playfully.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just want to show off your arms,” Nicole said, slipping on the warm blue flannel and resting her hand on Rodrick’s exposed arm, once again in a cut-off tank top. Rodrick gave her a funny look.

“What do you mean?”

Nicole suddenly found herself tongue tied. “Uh. I mean. You just wear a lot of tank tops.”

Rodrick raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. Nicole leaned back against him again, feeling simultaneously self-conscious and exhilarated. They had never touched for this long before. She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening between them, but she liked the direction it was going. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, Nicole felt more comfortable with Rodrick than she did anyone else - even though most of the time she had known him, he had been a nuisance to her. Well… maybe not a complete nuisance.

It was funny to think that only a few days ago, Rodrick was just an annoyance she dealt with at her job and admired from afar, and now she was sitting on his lap, wearing his flannel. She leaned her head back, looking at the stars. She hadn’t noticed that Caitlin had left, but suddenly she appeared over her line of vision, grinning.

“Do you want a beer?” she asked, holding a cold can over Nicole’s forehead. Nicole reached out to take it, sitting up before cracking it open. She wasn’t in the habit of enjoying beer for the flavor, so she’d rather get drunk off it quickly. It tasted like wet cardboard, but Nicole managed to chug it down.

“Damn, girl, where’d you learn to drink like that?” Chris asked, laughing as Nicole belched loudly. 

“Years of rigorous practice and intense concentration, young padawan,” Nicole replied.

“Do you wanna shotgun one with me?” Chris asked, half-joking, but Nicole was feeling overly confident from the buzz she was feeling and readily stepped up to the challenge.

“Whoever spits it out owes the other ten bucks.”

“Fuckin’ deal,” Chris grinned, Ben cheering him on as he threw a beer toward Nicole. She (surprisingly) caught it.

“Wait, gimme one,” Rodrick said, making grabby hands in Ben’s direction, who threw him a beer.

“On three, okay?” Ben counted. They all started to crack open their beers, Nicole with her house keys, Rodrick with his car keys, and Chris with his pen knife.

“One.. twoooooo…. Three!” Ben yelled, and they all tipped their heads back, drinking from the hole in the side of the can. Nicole’s eyes watered, but she was too competitive to back down now. Foam spilled out of the side of her mouth, but she kept drinking. She could hear people chanting her name as she finally threw the beer can down on the ground, raising her hands in victory. Both Rodrick and Chris were covered in beer foam, but Nicole somehow stayed relatively clean, minus the beer she wiped off her face.

“Ten motherfucking bucks, Chris,” Nicole slurred slightly, grinning at him as he pulled out a crumpled bill from his pocket and threw it at her. 

“Rodrick, how the fuck did you lose, dude? You were the one who taught me how to shotgun,” Ben said, causing Nicole to throw her head back in laughter, before letting out another massive burp that lasted for several seconds. The whole group dissolved into laughter. 

Eventually, the joint got finished, and people started to move back inside. However, Rodrick and Nicole stayed outside, talking about whatever came into their heads.

“Were you ever into Greek mythology as a kid?” Nicole asked, watching Rodrick’s eyes go comically large.

“Does Percy Jackson count?”

Nicole pretended to consider it deeply for a moment, before shaking her head. Rodrick pouted. 

“I only got into Greek mythology because of Percy Jackson. So, I think it still counts.

“Fine. But do you know shit about the constellations they’re associated with?”

Rodrick pointed at the sky, at a random cluster of stars.

“For sure - that's Dingus Humongus, he was a Greek hero with the fattest ass known to man.”

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” Nicole replied, sticking her tongue out as Rodrick squawked in indignation.

“Besides a fat ass, what do you look for in a guy? Not, like, that I care. Just. Wondering.”

“Very good English, Rodrick,” Nicole laughed, “I guess my type is… someone kind. And funny. Someone who tries to be cool and is actually a huge dork. And musical, that's always a plus,” she said, feeling very bold as she looked directly at him. It took Rodrick a moment, but eventually his mouth formed a small “oh” as he realized who she was talking about. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Then he frowned, “I am not a dork.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, “And I’m totally not waiting for you to kiss me right now.”

Nicole watched as the color slowly rose in Rodrick’s cheeks, turning them rosy pink, visible even in the shadow-drenched backyard. Nicole decided to pull yet another risky move, and adjusted herself on Rodrick’s lap so that she was facing him, her thighs on top of his arms around his neck. For such a seemingly confident boy, Rodrick seemed more nervous than she had ever seen him, even when he asked her to come to band practice earlier. Hell, he hadn’t even been that nervous to shotgun the joint into her mouth.

“Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I don’t wanna be bad at it,” he confessed. Just as Nicole thought she couldn’t be any more endeared by this boy. She slid her hands into his hair, thick and soft. She leaned in and gently nosed at his jawline, placing small kisses against his warm skin. Right at his jugular, he smelled like cologne and nighttime and boy, the right mix of clean and sexy. Seemingly gaining his courage, he grabbed Nicole by the back of her head and brought her up to his lips.

It was soft, at first, merely a press of skin to skin, but the two gradually deepened the kiss, moving against each other like they were made for it. Nicole felt like her heart might beat out of her chest - or maybe she was just that high.

Feeling emboldened by Rodrick’s enthusiasm, she slipped her tongue between his lips, gently tangling their tongues together. He let out a low moan, and Nicole could’ve blacked out from how turned on she was by that simple sound. The warmth of his body against hers and the slickness of their mouths together caused a rush of liquid heat to form between Nicole’s legs. Goddamn, he was good at this. Nicole wasn’t sure how many girls Rodrick had kissed before this, but if he was a rookie at this she was damn impressed.

Rodrick’s hands, which had been resting on her waist, slowly moved down her ass and under her skirt, causing Nicole to gasp as he started to knead and grab at her cheeks - not hard, but enough to get her even more hot and bothered than she thought possible.

“Is this okay?” Rodrick asked, his voice low and rough. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Nicole replied, running her fingers through his hair and scratching her nails down his neck. She felt him shiver beneath her, sending a heady rush of power to her stomach and lower. He pulled her closer to him by her ass, so that their crotches pressed together. Nicole was taken aback by the sensation of his bulge pressed against her, but didn’t pull back, instead grinding down on him.

“Are there still people out here?” Rodrick asked shakily. Nicole pulled back and looked over her shoulder - the backyard was empty, thank god.

“No, just us,” Nicole said, turning back and bringing her lips to his ear, biting and licking the sensitive flesh. Rodrick whimpered, grinding up to meet her, and Nicole almost lost it then and there.

The alcohol and weed in her system were slowing her reactions, but also kept her from thinking too much about what she was doing - all she could think about was how much she wanted this. Sober, this might’ve never happened - she was too nervous about what he would think if she ever made a move, constantly overthinking her every word and action. This dumb boy, who rode with her to work, who stayed to the end of her shift and bought her slushies, had wiggled his way into her every thought and every beat of her heart. She knew she was fucked.

She only wished it was literally.

Nicole opened her eyes briefly to catch Rodrick’s gaze, and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the red-and-blue flash of police lights. Rodrick caught sight of the lights at the same time.

“Oh, fuck.”

[cryptid-bloodhound]

can i just have some fluffy gibby and octane??? that's all i need in my life tbh

IM LATE BUT I GOTCHU FAM!

Thoughts Like Thorns

Ao3

Octavio was bored again. When he was bored, bad things tended to happen. He didn’t mean to cause so much havoc, honest! Well, most of the time he didn’t mean it. All that destruction and chaos was simply a byproduct of his endless hunt for his next adrenaline rush. He really couldn’t help it. That desire to do something - anything - was almost pervasive. It was a gnawing, clawing need that guided his day-to-day life. When he sat idle for just a moment too long, that feeling would well up inside of him again, like nails down his spine. If he didn’t know any better, he’d compare the uncomfortable sensation to anxiousness. It was like something inside of him telling him to ‘ go go go!’ and not doing that was something really quite awful.

Those quiet moments between drops when there was nowhere for him to run and video games just weren’t cutting it was horrible. He’d bounce in place, jump around, and use his fellow Legends as makeshift springboards. Anything to alleviate that need. For the most part, the others tolerated his constant frenetic energy. Sometimes, if the mood was bright enough, they’d join in on his reckless little games. It usually wasn’t a problem for the adrenaline junkie. Hell, he loved the rush so chasing these little highs was awesome! But, there were moments when it was all a little too much. When his attention felt like it was being ripped in every direction and his mind buzzed like a nest of angry hornets. When nothing could satisfy that need of his. It seemed like today was one of those unlucky days.

He was pacing back and forth in the complex, muttering under his breath rapidly as if he could chase away this feeling through cursing alone. His hands flexed, clenched, and beat an uneven tempo against his thighs as he moved on an endless loop. Sometimes he felt like clawing at himself because surely that would feel better than whatever this sensation was crawling under his skin, but he refrained. The last time he did, Ajay scolded him and gave him that ‘I’m-unhappy-but-also-worried’ look he’s so familiar with. He tried playing games but nothing would hold his attention or quell that buzzing. He tried hanging out with the others but found himself too...raw to handle them right now. This uneasy restlessness was killing him.

“Ughh, estoy a punto de enloquecer!”

Octavio was so engrossed in his own static-filled mind that he didn’t notice the rather large figure walking through the door. Really, it should be a feat all on its own to have Makoa Gibraltar of all people sneak up on you. The giant of a man wasn’t the type to sneak around. So, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, the borderline shriek that left his lips was all the more embarrassing. Gibraltar looked torn between amused and mildly worried. That expression made Octavio want to shrug the hand off of his shoulder and bolt for the door.

“You alright there, bruddah?”

It was a simple question. It should have been easy to answer. Should . But the nonstop racing thoughts and aching in his nerves told him otherwise.

“Yes. No. Yes! ...Maybe. UGH, I don’t know!”

His hands went from tapping his thighs to gripping at his hair as he fought himself for a moment of respite. After seeing the almost volatile reaction to his touch earlier, Makoa resisted the urge to lay a reassuring hand on the younger Legend. It wasn’t often that Octavio had a bad day like this but it happened just enough for Makoa to recognize the signs. After a moment of thought, Gibraltar shifted his presence, expression dropping from openly worried to casual friendliness. That same sort of warmth colored over the darker tones of his voice. He didn’t want Octavio focusing on the bad - especially if it was thanks to the way he was acting.

“Hey, I seen you’re pretty good at art, yeah?”

The question was so unexpected and lax that it actually threw Octavio for a bit of a loop. His grip loosened and he squinted in slight confusion at Makoa. When he spoke, his answer was drawn out and pitched as if it was a question.

“...Yes?”

That seemed to brighten up Makoa’s disposition immediately. He gave one of his famous thousand-watt grins and threw open his arms in a grand gesture.

“Perfect! I got a cake here that needs some serious decoratin’ and you’re just the guy for the job!”

There wasn’t a singular part of this shift in conversation that didn’t confuse Octavio. Granted there were a great many things that did confuse him. In his defense, however, he rarely bothered enough to pay attention to, well, anything really. So, he just let his arms drop back to his sides as bewilderment overtook his features. Seeing the shift, Makoa kept on going. Anything to keep him distracted was good in his books. As he spoke, he subtly herded Octavio toward the kitchen area where a tasty but objectively plain cake sat. Next to it was a slew of decoration tools and what looked like a rough image of what Gibraltar wanted on it. It was pretty, certainly something he could imagine giving to a significant other if he were feeling romantic. But his way of drawing was a bit more, ah, stylized than what was pictured. As he started imagining what it’d look like in his own design, Makoa continued on.

“It’s my anniversary soon and I wanted to do somethin’ nice. I made a cake but I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. Figured I’d ask ya for help, shortstack. We can work on it togetha ‘n you could tell me what’s botherin’ ya.”

At the reminded of his earlier unending nerves, Octavio frowned. Without meaning to he started bouncing back and forth on his feet as that prickling sensation started taking over his attention once more. Without wasting a second, Makoa barreled on as if nothing changed.

“Or, I could tell ya about that time I stole my dad’s motorcycle to go on a joyride with my boyfriend.”

Again, the switch up blindsided the younger Legend. The mental image of The Gibraltar doing something so reckless and immature as stealing his dad’s motorcycle absolutely floored Octavio. His jaw dropped and that jittery discomfort was replaced with a sort of giddiness. That sounded like something he would do and not the unofficial Team Dad.  

“No. Way.”

“Way.”

There was a smug sort of smile pulling wide at Gibraltar’s lips as Octavio stared at him with wide eyes. He figured if there was a story to draw him out of a bad spot, it’d be a crazy one he could relate to. The air was filled with the rapid little ‘tinks’ of his feet as he danced in place with all that pent up energy he was so well-known for. He wanted to hear more about this crazy tale. It was drawing his mind away from all those sharp, intangible edges he could never figure out.

“Let’s do it!”

And so they did. They set up their impromptu cake station as Makoa spoke about the shenanigans he managed to get himself into in his wilder days. Of course, he left out the darker parts. No need to drag the kid back down. It warmed something in his heart to see Octavio calming down. His mind was distracted by the story and attention needed to detail the cake while his hands were busy drawing out lines of frosting. It was engaging enough to keep him entertained without being self-destructive (or any kind of destructive, which was a step up). So, when that story ended, Makoa conjured another, and then another, and another. However many it took until that frantic tension melted away from Octavio.

“So, when ya gonna pop the question amigo? Time ain’t waitin’ for any of us! We won’t stay this young and good lookin’ forever. Well, you won’t. I’ll always be this gorgeous. ”

It was Makoa’s turn to be surprised at the unexpected words. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the cocky, over-the-top attitude, or maybe it was just the irony that the usually oblivious one here hit the nail on the head. Whatever the case, Makoa let out a deep belly laugh and clapped Octavio on the shoulder. The force behind the gesture was still enough to cause the much smaller man to jolt forward.

“Ha! Keep it up, shortstack. I’ll remember that next time we’re on a team and the enemies are lookin’ for a punchin’ bag.”

Rather than respond verbally, Octavio just stuck his tongue out and gave a rather colorful hand gesture. Though the way his lips turned up at the corners in a grin spoke volumes of his current bright mood. After a moment, Makoa sighed in a way that Octavio could have sworn would be considered ‘dreamily’. He did very little to hide the amused snort at the action. ‘What a big softy.’

“To tell ya the truth, I been thinkin’ ‘bout it. I wanna do it soon. Hey, how’d you like to come ‘n help me pick out a ring, huh?”

The invitation was a surprise. Seems like today was full of those - mostly good, at least. It made Octavio smile wider than he has in a long time. Again, he couldn’t help but do an excited little jig in place, prompting Makoa to laugh at his antics once more.

“Hells yeah!”

His brain was already rushing ten thousand miles a minute picturing all sorts of expensive and fantastical bands. That led to him also picturing crazy wedding ideas and - ‘Oh! Wonder if I’ll get to be a groomsman!’ His colorful and exciting daydreams were interrupted by Makoa as he peered over his shoulder at the cake and spoke up.

“This looks great, Octavio, but uh...you spelled his name wrong.”

Sure enough, when he looked at the wonderfully decorated (in his humble opinion) cake, he had forgotten a letter in Makoa’s boyfriend’s name. With a groan, he slapped a hand to his forehead and accidentally smeared icing on his face.

“Mierda.”

[shirewalker]

kestrel and arin? omg i don't know if you do them, but i remembered you read the books a while back?? but anyway -> beside a fire + i can't stay away from u

No, I had never written them before >w

It turned into a Band AU jsyk ;)

Rated E ofc

Arin washere. Kestrel felt her lungs collapse at the sight. Of all the people to takethe same road she took… Arin had to be the one.

His silvereyes found hers and she looked away, too fast to not be noticed. She hated him.She wanted him. She didn’t hate him at all. She hated… She hated that he’drefused to join her band, she hated that he’d claim not to sing and then… Andthen when Roshar offered to be his manager, Arin had accepted. And sang.

Like mothdrawn to candle, her eyes flickered to him again. His eyes were still on her.Beautiful, damning.

“Miss?” Thereceptionist handed her a key and she pretended to ignore Arin’s presence, “I’msorry it took so long, with the snow storm our hotel is practically full andour servers are down. Second floor, and please, breakfast is on the house.” Hersmile was practiced, perfected to ruffle angry feathers with free breakfastsand whatnot. Kestrel took the key and fled to her room, dying to put as muchspace between her and Arin as she could.

--

“What areyou doing here?” She hissed, pulling her night robe closer to her body. She hadjust left the bath, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders.

Arin stoodby the door, bags in one hand and in the other… a key? He looked at her inutter confusion, his eyes going from her to the door to the key and back toher. “This… is my room, Kestrel.” He uttered slowly.

“Like hellit is! I paid for it!” She stomped her way to him and yanked the key out of hishands. Those hands…

Shakingthose thoughts away, Kestrel inspected the key only to throw it back at himwith a breathed curse, “They gave us the same room!”

Arinswallowed down and turned away, “I’ll go back down and ask for another room…”His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. But Kestrel knew that tone. Flat withArin wasn’t emotionless. It was him covering his hurt.

Her angersizzled away, “No, Arin. You can… you can stay. The bed is large enough for thetwo of us anyway.”

“It’s notrouble.” He insisted.

“Theirsystems are down or glitching, I’m not sure; you won’t get a room any timesoon. You can stay. I don’t… I don’t mind.” She said and turned away, hoping hehadn’t seen the way her cheeks heated up with the idea of sharing a bed withhim.

He noddedand shut the door, “Is… Is the water hot?” He said after a while, pointing ather wet hair.

“Yes. Youcan go.”

Arin tookhis things and locked himself in the bathroom, leaving Kestrel breathless andangry at the universe’s sense of irony. Arin had become her rival in the bandcontest, when all she wanted was to sing and play with him. And then Arin hadbecome the target of her moods after her poor little heart hadn’t been able tohandle his rejection. Foolish Kestrel! Why did she have to go and fall for the Herranisinger? The young man that refused to mingle more than necessary, and yet hadsomehow wormed his way into her heart. Long nights spent playing Bite and Stingwith him, sharing thoughts and opinions, and then it just… happened. One dayshe looked at him across the university lawn and her heart had simply… ran tohis. It didn’t go well though, as Arin was quick to refuse her heartfeltrequest.

“I supposethe staff can afford mixing up keys but they can’t forget the hot water, huh?”Arin said, his joke breaking through her thoughts as he stepped out of thebathroom. A cloud of steam followed him, partially covering his frame for amoment. Kestrel wished it away, and then she wished it back.

He hadn’tgotten dressed, he’d just put on a towel. Damn him, damn him to whichever sortof hell he believed in.

Arin caughther eye and a crooked grin played on his lips, “See something you like?”

Cheeksburning, Kestrel looked away and back at the fireplace, “Shut up and getdressed.”

“Or…?” Histeasing tone took her back to their midnight sessions, when he would tease herabout her droopy eyes and her long yawns. When he would try to get her to slipup and give up her game. When it was just her and Arin and nothing else existedor mattered.

“You’llsleep on the floor.” It was an empty threat and both knew it.

Arin’schuckle lasted only for a moment before it died out and his voice turned roughand serious, “I’m sorry, Kestrel.”

She didn’treply. He sighed. And then she heard his footfalls, approaching, walking toher.

“Kestrel…”He reached for her but then dropped his hand.

“You saidyou didn’t sing. You wouldn’t sing.Public stuff and that. And then…” Her voice shook with anger and heartbreak,“You get your own music act!” She turned to him and saw with wicked pleasurehow her words hit him like a slap, “If you didn’t want to sing with me, youcould have said so. Not lie! I thought… I thought there were no lies betweenus, Arin.”

This timehe did reach for her, catching her face between both hands in a hold that wasso gentle Kestrel almost thought she was dreaming it, “I’m sorry, Kestrel. Ireally am, but… I couldn’t sing with you.”

“Why?”

Arin lookedaway for a moment, fighting with something inside him. Then, “Because… Becauseyour father threatened me at the time.”

“What?” Shehissed, angry flames licking her insides. How dare he? How?! He cut ties withher and still had the nerve to decide who she could... hang with?!

He shookhis head, “It was more of an excuse than anything else, Kestrel. I… I didn’tfight him, I didn’t fight his threat because… If I stayed, if I said yes… Iwouldn’t have become just your band mate. I wouldn’t be able to be just that.”

She shookher head, or tried to, his strong hands still holding her close, “I don’tunderstand…”

“I can’tstay away from you, Kestrel. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if we spentevery moment together for the band.”

A waterysmile played on her lips, “You’re an idiot, Arin…”

He frowned,“What?”

“You saidno because you were afraid of getting involved with me?” She took a bold step,“Afraid of what could happen?”

“I wasafraid of hurting you, Kestrel.”

“How wouldyou have done it? When I too can’t stay away from you!” She made to grab himbut her hands stopped a breath away from his chest as she remembered he had noclothes on. But then, she threw caution to the wind and placed them on hisskin, carefully memorizing the way his deep golden skin felt so right under herpalms. Arin shuddered at her touch, but made no move to stop her. She said, “Whyare you so brilliant with everything but when it comes to us you just run awaylike a scared little kid?”

A sheepishsmile grew on his lips, joining that little blush that darkened his cheeks, “Iguess you throw me off. With your cunning mind and your beautiful self…”

“Arin…” Shebreathed.

“Yes,Kestrel?”

“Kiss me,Arin. Kiss me and I’ll forget how much of an idiot you have been these past fewmonths. Kiss me. Kiss me…” She begged, fingertips grazing his skin and the hardmuscle right underneath. Her body went into a dizzy dance just like that, hersenses dying to drown in Arin. Arin, Arin, Arin. Everything in her whisperedand screamed and rasped his name. She was so drunk in him already, and allthey’d done was gingerly touch each other.

“Kestrel…”His was thick and desperate, her name hanging in the air between them for onebrief moment that seemed to last forever. Forever and ever. Until… Until shefinally felt his lips touch hers.

A breath.

One longand deep breath.

As if she’dbeen drowning until this very moment, as if Arin’s lips, Arin’s air was theonly thing she could really survive on. Arin. Arin. Arin. Oh stars and all ofhis gods help her, this was even better than anything she had ever dreamed of.And it was just one small, chaste kiss.

Her handsmoved on their own accord, first down his torso, feeling every hard muscle ofhis and drawing soft groans out of him. Sweet, sweet sounds Kestrel had neverthought to be so sweet. Then she moved up, palms pressing and fingers searchinguntil her hands locked on his shoulders for a moment. All along, Arin kissedher softly, his lips massaging hers into a slow and tender kiss that seemed tohold so much fire within and yet it refused to ignite. Not yet, it seemed towhisper, not yet. Her hands moved up again and into his thick, dark locks. Sheplayed with those curls, a smile forming on her mouth when Arin sighed intoher. He liked this, she realised, safely storing this knowledge in the depthsof her heart.

And thensomething snapped.

A deep andalmost primal hunger that seemed to grow inside this kiss. Arin rasped her nameinto the kiss and she opened her mouth, welcoming him, welcoming his tongue.With each press of lips and groan and moan, Kestrel felt her world tip. Arinwas leaning into her, arms holding her close, so close, so close. And shepulled him in, careless about such trivial things like gravity and hard floors.It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. Not when Arin was here with her and kissingher and waking up every piece of hers that had been dormant until this verymoment. The kiss was catching fire and it tasted to good.

“Kestrel…”Her name was a hot breath against her cheek as Arin pressed his face to hersand began a blazing trail of kisses down her throat. Down, down, down. Herpulse, her collarbone, her shoulder… Her robe was barely covering her now,having fallen open in the process of their kisses. Kestrel didn’t even thinkabout what it meant, only what it allowed to happen. Arin kissing her, Arintouching her. Arin, Arin, Arin.

“Arin…” Hepressed a kiss right over her heart and she swore it pulsed anew. Like a freshoff the nest little bird, ready for the world, ready to spread its winds andfind home. Home. Arin. “I want… I want you, Arin…” She said, or tried to, hervoice lost in the moment.

Arin pausedhis kisses with a start. His breathing was laboured and surprised when he spokeagain, “Are you… Are you sure?”

She nodded,partially annoyed he’d stopped his kisses. Why? She was dying without them,dying. “I’m sure, Arin. I’ve been for a long time now. I can’t stop thinkingabout you, even when I try to be angry, I can’t. Not really.” She leaned intohim and eased off of her robe. A violent blush coloured his cheeks as he tookin her naked form, “I love you, Arin. I love you…”

His silvereyes, always so beautiful and brilliant, turned to her, “Kestrel…” A silly gringrew on his lips, “I love you too.”

Her eyesclosed for a moment as she savoured those words. “Then kiss me, Arin.”

And he did.He really did.

Happinessbloomed deep in her chest, just like what must rush through a bird’s heart upontheir first flight, and she laughed. Kestrel laughed and smiled and giggled,Arin’s own laughter joining hers between kisses and more kisses. His towel fellaway, by his hand or hers, neither really knew. And then he laid her down bythe fire, on a lush carpet that felt like fluffy clouds under Kestrel.

His eyesshined, happiness and surprise and love bright and alive, and Arin leaned downto nuzzle his nose against her flushed skin. Kestrel laughed, unable to containthe sound as he played with her skin. Nuzzle, kiss, nuzzle, kiss and blow, thatlast one drawing even louder cackles out of her. She couldn’t breathe, thelaughter and the anticipation taking over her. Arin’s mouth moved upwards,slowing down his playful rhythm.

When he wasclose enough, Kestrel caught his face between her hands and pressed theirforeheads together, locking her gaze on his, “You make me so happy, Arin. Sohappy…”

He seemedto hold his breath, surprised with her words, “I could say the same, Kestrel.Little fists…” A smile danced on his lips as he uttered that nickname and shesmiled too. A month into knowing each other she had accidentally decked him.Arin had commented how someone with fists so small could be able to knock himout so well. She’d laughed the whole day through. She almost laughed right now.But then she felt his touch between her thighs and all laughter and rationalthoughts were gone.

Anotherbrush, soft and tender yet making her moan and gasp in reply. Arin whisperedher name as he touched her again and again, his voice strained and in pain, asif he was the one being touched like that, as if it was Kestrel who was drivinghim blind with just her hands. A louder gasp erupted and Kestrel swore shealmost fell apart then. So close, she was so close to coming undone. Heavingchest, blushed cheeks, Kestrel held onto him as if her very life depended onhim. In a way, it did. It did.

“Arin… Oh,Arin… Please…”

“Yes,Kestrel… Yes…” He rasped and eased into her, slowly.

A blissfulsmile grew on her lips as he moved, rolling his hips with that patience he’dbuilt during their games of Bite and Sting. Slow, slow, slow. She moved withhim, hands wrapped around his shoulders, spread over the hard muscles as theytensed and relaxed with his movements. Arin leaned on his forearms, easing intoa better position as he continued moving with her, his hips slow and seductiveand slick against hers. Kestrel had always heard of quickies and whatnot, butshe was certain the reason they were so overrated was because no one had evertasted this. Arin’s slow and clever rhythm. Patient and delicious, each roll ofthe hips perfected to draw the softest and rawest of moans out of her.

Her heartwas so full and beating so fast. Full of love and happiness and Arin. Arin.Arin. How could someone fill someone else’s heart so perfectly? His words, hisbeauty, his mind, his body. His pace picked up ever so slightly and a shudderedgasp escaped both of them.

Aringroaned. “Kestrel… Kestrel…” He whispered her name, over and over again. Voicestrained, eyebrows drawn, Arin was lost in her just as she was lost in him. Solost. But a good lost, a good lost. Because he was home. Home.

Anotherroll of the hips. Just another. Another…

He cursedunder his breath and shuddered as a hard thrust rocked her body and threwKestrel over the edge, together with Arin. Together. His name was a soft cry onher lips, her heart exploding to pieces, so full of love and happiness as itwas. Her body was nothing, Arin had set fire to it with his kisses and histouch and now Kestrel was nothing but an ethereal thing. Bound to the earth onlyby her love for Arin.

--

She dancedwith her fingers over his open hand, tracing the lines of his palm back andforth. Arin took in a shaky breath and she giggled, “So sensitive.”

“You’retickling me, Kestrel. I can’t resist that.” He rasped, his voice still a mess.

“Are yougoing to sing with me now?” She asked after a while, looking up from his chest.

Arinsighed, “Do I have a choice?”

She smackedhim, “Of course you do. But I’d very much like it if you said yes.”

“What ofRoshar? And Risha?” He asked, remembering his manager and Kestrel’s vocalist.

Alwaysready for this, Kestrel didn’t even stop to think of her answer, “You knowRoshar won’t mind it one bit, so long he continues to be the manager. And Risha…Risha wants to go to Broadway. She wants to sing in musicals, to be where Verexis.”

Arinchuckled, “You have everything worked out already. Of course you do.”

She hummed,“Yes. I’ve thought about this for a while already. Say yes, Arin. Stay with me.”

“I’ll staywith you no matter what.” He said, his voice softer and stripped of any jokes.

“I’m glad.But I still want to play with you.”

“You don’tgive up, do you?”

“No. Plus,you said my father was the other reason why you refused me. Considering he isout of my life for good and everything we did tonight, I don’t see any reasonwhy we can’t play together.”

“What aboutthe contest?”

“I’m goingto withdraw.”

“And so Ishould do the same?” He offered with a raised eyebrow.

Kestrelpaused, “Well, you don’t have to. But I am withdrawing.”

Arin huffedand passed a hand through his hair, “And so am I, since I only entered thisbecause of you.”

Laughterbloomed out of her, surprised and light, “How come?”

“Youchallenged me. It would be a sign of weakness to not rise to it.” He replied,his tone as a matter of fact.

“I daredyou. And I was angry at the time, I said some stupid things.”

“Oh, so sheadmits!” Arin joked, the sound quickly replaced by a yelp as Kestrel poked him.

“I saystupid things sometimes, I never denied it.”

“Yes, butyou never admitted it either. I have an idea.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Weboth withdraw, let our friends know of it and stay here for the rest of theweekend.”

Her cheeksheated up, “In this room?”

Arinnodded, “In this room. Just us. Making up for lost time. What do you say?”

Kestrel smiled,perhaps the happiest smile she had ever smiled, and nodded, “Sounds perfect tome.”

[starshineskyandthepowerofrock]

First Impressions

Part 4 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

I had intentionally not told any of the students which band I would be a part of with the hope of making it a pleasant surprise when I walked in their dorm. I suppose they're still in for a surprise, but seeing a vampire walk in right behind me may dampen the "pleasant" part.

Skylar has caught up to me. Her smile gives me the fullest view of her fangs I've seen all night. I have to fight every muscle in my body not to instinctively step back, because at least she's being friendly.

"Seriously?" she says. "We're gonna be in the same band?"

I swallow hard. "It would appear so," I say, trying to restrain the shake in my voice.

"Well, in that case," Skylar says, holding out a hand. "It's a pleasure to work with you."

It takes me a second to realize what she's trying to do, largely because I can't recall the last time I shook hands with someone. I'm used to curtsies and bows. I adjust my tiara a bit, wondering if she's somehow unaware of my royal status. Her eyes flit to my tiara, then to her hand, then back to my eyes. Her brow furrows.

"Do people not shake hands around here?" she asks, beginning to pull away.

Oh no, I'm being rude! I grab her hand and shake it. It's rough and highly callused, especially around the fingertips. It's also room temperature. Like a corpse. "Sorry," I say. "Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Her Royal Highness, Princess Starshine of the Land of Light, but you may call me Star. I mostly sing, but I also play a little guitar."

We let go and Skylar puts her thumbs in her belt loops. "And I'm Skylar Acdalur... of... Acdalur Family Farm, but you can call me Sky," she says. "I mostly play guitar, but I sing a little."

Well, Sky is a far more Land of Light-esque name than Skylar, so I'm more than willing to call her as such. I nod. "Okay, then. Sky, it is. I'll go to your dorm with you."

And so we walk. Something Sky said is sitting with me weird. "You own a farm?" I ask.

Sky chuckles. "My family owns a farm," she says, then looks up at the high ceiling. "All this is kinda a big change for me."

I think back to the tiny orphanage. Its square footage was probably smaller than this hallway alone. "I know what you mean. But you'll get used to it. I certainly did... Did you say your family?"

"Yep," Sky says. "Mom, Dad, and seven big brothers." She turns to me, amused. "Mom really wanted a girl."

I nod, taking this in. "You... have a family," I say, as though saying it again will help me better understand.

"What, did you think we divide like cells?"

I scoff. "No! I just... I guess I never thought about monsters having, like, families and stuff. But I suppose it only makes sense."

We chat the rest of the walk, and all the while my mind can't move on from the concept of a monster having a family. I think about how much my parents love me. Do her parents feel the same way about her? Or did they have her for utilitarian reasons? But her face when she spoke about them reminds me so much of how anyone else would speak about their family. So, why would she leave them, then? But I suppose that's what all of the kids here are doing. It doesn't mean they don't care about the ones they're leaving behind. Huh.

When we get to the dorm, Sky blinks at the handle-less door in confusion. I guess they don't have this kind of lock on the Isle. I'll have to demonstrate, then. I lean towards the little mic in the wall next to the door, press the button that turns it on, and hum the little jingle for this specific door. The doorknob appears in a little whirl of sparkles.

Sky smiles, impressed. "Nice," she says.

I enter the front living area of the three-room apartment first, sure to block Sky because maybe I can do some damage control before the "What is a vampire doing in my room" storm hits.

Three girls turn upon the door's opening, and their eyes light up in delight. "Your Highness!" they all say in unison, and hurry to greet me.

I recognize Gossamer Glade from earlier. "Are you going to be in our band?" she asks, giving a submissive curtsy. Her big, round, green eyes and heart-shaped face make her look a whole lot like her older sisters, but I'm willing to judge her on her own merits. I smile at her.

"Yes," I say, to which the girls begin to squeal.

One of the girls, whose long, fuzzy ears sticking out from the top of her bubblegum pink pixie cut mark her as a moon rabbit, bows straight down and back up, failing to contain her excitement. "Ohmygoodness, Your Highness, I lovelovelove your voice SOOOO much! My name is Waxing Crescent! I play drums!" she says in a very high-pitched voice.

"And I'm a bassist," Gossamer says.

The third girl I know to be a mermaid, based on her pale blue skin and the fact that her deep blue hair smells heavily of salt water. She's looking down at her scaly feet, body parts she is likely unused to, judging by her awkward stance and the fact that she's swaying. "I'm Pearlessence," she mumbles. "I play keyboard."

"We were wondering why there were only three of us in here," Gossamer says. "You don't know how relieved I am to know that you're the fourth member."

"So, are you gonna live in our dorm with us?" Crescent asks. "'Cause there's space for one more!"

"Um, actually, I'm sleeping in my own room. But..." I step out of the way so that Sky can enter the room. Faces fall, and a horrible stillness descends over the three girls. Pearl looks like she's trying not to look terrified. Crescent looks purely bewildered. Gossamer looks like she wants me to guide yet another student to the principal's office tonight.

"Everyone," I say delicately. "This is Sky. She's a guitarist. She's the fifth member of our band."

"Nice to meet you," Sky says, and holds out a hand. The girls jump back as one. Sky gets the message and puts her arm down.

Gossamer looks to me. "May I please speak to the principal." It's phrased like a question, but the tone suggests a demand.

Ugh, my legs are jelly at this point! I don't want to make that walk twice in one night! Especially with someone in such a bad mood. "You may speak with her tomorrow," I say. I need to change the subject. "I trust everyone has been settling in nicely?"

"We were," Gossamer says.

"'Were'?"

"Yes," she says, turning to stare daggers at Sky. "We were."

Sky says nothing, but refuses to break eye contact with Gossamer. The unreadable mask has fallen back over her face, and it's only now I notice it had been starting to come off earlier. I place cautious hands on her shoulders and guide her to one of the bedrooms on either side of the living area. "Why don't we ensure your room is in order?"

"Wait!" Gossamer steps in front of us. "I'm sleeping in this room!"

"The bedrooms are designed to accommodate two people," I reply.

"Yes," she says. "Two people."

I blink. "Are you implying that Sky isn't a person?"

Gossamer looks Sky up and down. "If the shoe fits."

Sky tenses under my hands. I look at her face to find her pale eyes wide and her nostrils flared. The slightest twitch in her upper lip reminds me of the razor-sharp fangs gleaming just behind it. I remove my hands from her with haste.

If Gossamer realizes she's gone too far, she doesn't make it apparent. Nose up, she walks past us and towards the door to the hallway.

"We'll see what my father has to say about this," she says before slamming the door behind her.

Crescent's voice breaks the silence. "Her father?"

"Mr. Glade is the history teacher," I explain.

"We're gonna have to be taught by her dad?" Sky asks with disgust.

I pat her on the shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Sky. Come on, let's get you situated."

⭐⭐⭐

The discomfort of the previous encounter has encouraged Crescent and Pearl to retreat into their room, so now it's just Sky and me in a half-furnished bedroom. Gossamer has already claimed the side nearest to the door, as evinced by an ornately designed oak canopy bed with sheer, green and yellow floral hangings, and a matching vanity and wardrobe. In a corner farthest from the door are a couple beat-up leather trunks and a guitar case.

"I take it those are yours?" I ask.

"Yeah, your guys are good," Sky says, taking in the room as she makes her way inside. She starts digging through her envelope again. "So, I read the instructions for the Soul Key thing back home, but could you give me a refresher?" She pulls out the key in question. It's plain stainless steel. They're normally much shinier, and made of silver. An exception must have been made for her sake.

"Okay," I say. "Open that little compartment on the end there."

Sky undoes the tiny latch on a clear, circular compartment that makes up the handle of the key and opens it. She looks up at me. "And then you put, like, one of your fingernails or something in there, right?"

I swallow back a trace amount of vomit. "A part of your body, yes. Most opt for a couple strands of hair."

Sky looks down at her stubby fingernails, which look like they haven't had a day of care her whole life. Or death. Or... existence? "I guess that would make things easier," she says before plucking a couple strands from her swooping bangs. "Why am I doing this?" she asks as she balls up the white hair between her fingers.

"The Soul Key needs a bit of you so that it may extract a bit of your soul and use it to, among other things, automatically personalize your living space. You'll find it saves loads of decorating time."

Sky's fingers pause. "That's a pretty creepy way to decorate."

I refrain from pointing out the irony in a vampire calling something creepy and instead watch with interest as Sky puts her hair in the key and closes it up. My impression of vampires has always been that they don't have souls, which is why they don't have reflections. So, what happens when a Soul Key tries to extract a soul from a person who doesn't have one? As I ask myself this question, I look up at Gossamer's vanity to see both Sky and myself reflected back. Huh.

We watch her hair disappear with a magical spark, and soon the key starts glowing hot pink. The glow gets bright to the point where we can't make out the form of the key anymore, then subsides to reveal that the handle has transformed into the shape of a hot pink heart. The rest of the key is no longer gray, but sports an anodized rainbow pattern. Interesting. I would have expected the visual representation of a monster's soul - which I guess she has - to be much scarier than this. And nowhere near as cute.

Sky looks up at me, and I her. "Cool," she says. "What next?"

I snap out of my thoughts. I'm supposed to be helping her. "Put it in the appropriate keyhole," I tell her, indicating the wall across from the door. Sky locates the keyhole in the wall and does as instructed. She turns the key hard, and seems surprised to find it cranking like a music box wind-up. She cranks it a few more times, then lets go.

"Stand back!" I tell her, and she obeys.

A music box tune pumps its way through the walls, and a sparkly, rainbow-colored mist sets in, taking the form of the same basic furnishings as Gossamer, but it's all rather minimalist when compared with Gossamer's numerous flower carvings, and it's made of polished ebony instead of Gossamer's matte brown oak. Forgetting who I'm with for a second, I expect the largest furniture piece to take the form of a bed, but no, it's a coffin. Sky gravitates to this part of her new room immediately. She runs a hand along the shiny split lid, giving an impressed whistle.

"A real casket..." she says, lifting the lid's top half to reveal a cushy, pastel interior, including a comfortable-looking blanket with a rainbow-colored cobweb print. "I never thought I'd sleep in one of these."

"What else would a vampire sleep in?" I ask.

"Back home, all we could afford were coffins," Sky replies. Apparently, there's a difference.

"Well, I clearly don't know much about coffins, but this casket seems... cozy," I say, and I mean it. Curious, I push down on the plush bottom, and my hand gets a good couple inches down before springing back. It really seems like something one wouldn't mind sleeping in, if breathing wasn't an issue. It adds a fascinating new context to something I normally only see during funerals.

Sky has went to open her trunks. "I can't believe there's no tuition to get into here," she tells me. "This is so nice, I feel kinda bad."

"Oh, don't!" I say as I watch her move a small assortment of worn jeans and plain shirts from one of her trunks to the wardrobe that already holds several uniform sets. Is that all the clothes she brought to last through the school year? "Mama says that if you have what it takes to get in here, then money shouldn't hold you back. Plus, this school is state-run. Have you seen how big our kingdom is? We have no shortage of tax money!"

Sky chuckles as she closes the casket and climbs on top of it to hang up a couple posters for some monster bands I've never heard of. She teeters on the rounded, smooth surface.

"Um, maybe you shouldn't-" I start, but Sky has already slipped and fallen hard on her arm. I yelp and rush to help her up. "Are you okay?" I ask, pulling her up by her good arm. I'm afraid to see the damage on the other one.

Sky sucks in the air through her teeth, rolling her shoulder a couple times. "Yeah, it just hurts."

I sigh. "I thought you broke your arm for a second!"

Sky shakes her head. "I'm a vampire. Only a handful of things can actually hurt me."

I nod, reminded of what she is. "Oh, right! Like, um, silver is one, right? And garlic, and wooden stakes, and fire, and decapitation..." I trail off when I notice Sky's eyes widening, and the corners of her mouth coming down.

"... That's right," she says, her brow furrowed. "Guess you do know some things about vampires." She releases her arm from the grip I hadn't noticed I still had on her and turns to keep unpacking.

Hmm... Awkward... I consider telling her that the only reason I know all that is for defense purposes, but that may just freak her out more. Instead, I keep quiet and watch her take out a ragged plush spider with eight button eyes. She places it inside the casket, and its aging brown terrycloth looks a bit out of place amongst the soft, dreamy fabrics.

"That's cute," I say, trying to make things a bit less tense. "You didn't really strike me as a stuffed animal type."

Sky closes the casket again, shrugging sheepishly. "I've had him since I was real little. Can't sleep without him." She's staring at the floor.

I try to imagine what Sky as a child would look like. The image is actually kind of cute. "Daw," I say. "That's really sweet. What's his name?"

"Uh..." Sky drums her fingers on the casket. "Wilbur," she says, then turns away again. She goes to pull out a frame from one of the trunks, and places it on the vanity, whose mirror is shaped like a heart. "You were wondering about my family, right? Here we are."

It's one thing to hear someone has seven siblings, but Sky flanked, three on one side and four on the other, by vampire boys ranging in age from mid teens to early twenties is still quite a sight. Gender isn't the only way Sky differs from her brothers, though. Everyone in the photo wears clothes as old-looking as what Sky is wearing right now, but everyone else has at least made an effort to appear clean-cut. Sky, meanwhile, has half her shirt untucked and has attached a couple chains to her jeans, which once again have that spotted acid wash pattern on them. She's the only one with pants like that. So that's a choice. Interesting. Also notable is that all of her family members, including her parents, are holding dainty-looking flutes, all except Sky, who brandishes a black electric guitar with numerous fading stickers on it.

What strikes me the most, though, is how... colorful everyone else is. None of them are nearly as melanin blessed as me, mind, but despite their ashy, pale complexions they look positively glowing next to the bone white Sky. They also all have rather dark hair, and here's Sky with hair the color of snow. And their eyes are red, the standard vampire eye color that Sky seems to lack.

"Wow," I say. "They're... not what I was expecting."

"Yeah," Sky says, amused.

"So, how did..." I have to traverse this carefully. "The... all-white thing happen? Because you super don't look like your parents." Nailed it, Star.

Sky shrinks a little, averting her eyes. "I have albinism, if you couldn't tell."

I step back. "Is that contagious?"

"No!" Sky exclaims, indignant. She sighs and softens a bit. "It's genetic. It just means I'm missing a lot of melanin. You know, coloring?"

"Oh, so you're albino! Yeah, I've heard of that, come to think of it. I really should have realized, but it hardly registered what with everything else going on with you. You know... being a... um... a monster and all."

Sky blinks. "Right."

I clasp my hands together. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Sky, but I should really get to bed. See you in class!" I say.

Sky nods. "You too."

As I make my way back to my bedroom, my mind swims in the oddest mixture of bewilderment and bliss. I'm starting school tomorrow. I'm really going to be in a band. But craziest of all, I met a monster today, and she's going to be in my band. And even crazier, I think I'm starting to be okay with that.

[allinlowercase]

If I Could Tell Him - Chapter One

Chapter One: Wow Yes, Time Travel, A Truly Original Plotline

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: Alaska hadn't intended to be slingshot back into 1960. Life doesn't always live up to our intentions. When she and her friend Jackie are supposedly hit by Paul's car, they are by chance swept into the Beatle's orbit. But while Alaska struggles to reconcile her lost future and past, Jackie is unable to contain her excitement.

A/N: Ah yes, hello! This is a story I wrote (I promise) however, it’s also published on my Wattpad account in_the_reeds. This is just a story that I’ve been wanting to write for a while, so if you come across it I hope you enjoy!

August 25th, 2019

I bounced down the sidewalk, poppy music running through my earbuds into my brain. I'd woken up easily this morning, which was unusual but not unwelcome. I had had enough time to make french toast, finish up the trigonometry I pushed off last night, get my eyebrows just right. I was on time to take the bus too, which was a blessing.

As I neared the stop, I could see Jackie was already there. She as well had her headphones on and hadn't noticed me making my way towards her yet. I smiled at such a golden opportunity. Creeping up behind my friend and slowly removing my earbuds, I lurched into Jackie, both of us stumbling a few paces. Jackie screeched, although her fear turned to disappointment when she noticed that it was only me.

"Are you kidding me?" Jackie deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at me, her best friend. I snickered and shook my head emphatically.

"You should have seen your face!" I forced out between laughs. Jackie's eyes narrowed and she pouted.

"You're an asshole."

"No, I'm not. It's funny," I held my palms up defensively. Jackie snorted.

"Yeah, I know you think it's funny. That's why you're an asshole," she huffed, adjusting her backpack straps. I moved so that we were standing side by side. I managed to get my laughter in check - I didn't want to annoy Jackie more than I already had.

"Uh-huh. Oh hey, did you see the news last night?" I asked, the bus finally rounding the block a few feet away. We started playfully shoving each other, as the bus screeched to a stop. I scrunched my nose; those brakes seriously needed changing or oiling or goddamn something. We chatted animatedly as Jackie picked a seat around the middle of the bus, taking the window side. As college freshmen, we knew how to drive, it was simply a matter of affording a car.

I had met Jackie in seventh grade when Jackie'd moved from the country into my school district. Upon hearing that my name was 'Alaksa Dunn', Jackie had insisted it was a stripper name. I simply retaliated by knocking her in the face. We had bonded in lunch detention a week later over a love of ice hockey and Harry Styles's literally perfect hair. After realizing that I had two brothers named Brooks and Arlington, Jackie simply concluded that my parents were bad at naming human children.

Jackie started lurching into the specifics of another lengthy argument she'd had on Tumblr last night. "I mean, I don't mean to say that John wasn't responsible for the final breakup of the band, all I'm trying to do is create a very important blog post about the complexity of the Let It Be sessions. I don't need some asshole to shit on my perfectly acceptable opinion in front of fucking God and everybody, you know?"

I nodded, somewhat understanding what Jackie was talking about. I was not, the biggest Beatles fan, but Jackie may very well have been. It was important for me to kind of know about Beatles' stuff to keep up with her; I'd listened to the albums once or twice and had even sat through Magical Mystery Tour that one time.

"Okay so, Devil's Advocating here, but what if John wasn't responsible for the breakup, Paul was just an ass?" I ventured, knowing she'd get kind of heated on the subject. Did I have a very strong opinion on the subject either way? No, but it was just very refreshing to see her dig into this band she cared so much about. Honestly, I'd rather sit through her lecture me about Paul McCartney than go to my Gen Eds.

The bus neared a four-way stop. I could see a semi driving parallel, towards us, not slowing down. In confusion, I looked outwards, trying to gauge the light we were passing under; green. I whipped my attention back towards the oncoming semi-truck. Time slowed down as I heard the bus's brakes screech. I pulled Jackie towards me, as other window watching riders started screaming. I braced for impact and felt immense pressure coming from my right side before my vision blackened.

A/N: Once again, thank you for choosing to spend your time reading my garbage. So the basic idea here is that my main character is not a big Beatles enthusiast, because I haven't really seen that a lot with time travel fics and it bothered me a little, man; so while y'all will know what's coming on, she won't. Should make for some fun dramatic irony here.

[swervingkpoptrashcan]

Hustler (Criminal!Jeonghan)

Summary: Hustler Jeonghan is on a mission to steal something from you, but he has a slight dilemma.

Genre: Criminal!Jeonghan (ft. Gang!SVT), a little humor and greasiness 

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: I might make a Gang!SVT series, just tell me what you think about this! (also where are all the jeonghan in a suit gifs) 

Yoon Jeonghan, the guy with the angelic face, one that people wouldn’t even think to second guess. Yoon Jeonghan, the guy who could make girls, and even guys, fall for him. Yoon Jeonghan, a straight up hustler.

Jeonghan was a seasoned swindler, someone who had every trick up his sleeve. Ever since he was a teenager, he had been learning how to fool people to get something from them be it money, fame, or a house.

It was only a few years ago that Jeonghan had joined a gang, one of the most infamous groups of people that existed in the world, Seventeen. They were like Robin Hoods and Daredevils; taking from the bad and helping the poor.

“Seungcheol, I found the guy who hustled the corrupt government guy.”

Jihoon had been working hard at hacking while Minghao was using the gang’s technology to dig out all the information they could about the mysterious new face.

“Does he belong to any other gang?” Seungcheol, the gang’s boss questioned, scrolling through the pages of information on his iPad.

“No, he’s a rogue. The other gangs have been talking about recruiting him, so if we want him, we better work fast.” Minghao told Seungcheol.

“Get Chan on it and tell him to bring Wonwoo.”

Once Jeonghan joined, he was one of the main sources of the gang’s income, his skills allowing him to cheat money from businesses and banks without ever being caught; he was a thief with the ability to lie exceptionally well. Of course, he had many people under him doing most of the dirty work.

He had tried not to taint his name, so the only people who knew his real name were Seventeen and his family. The rest of the world knew him as ‘Angel’, a code name given by the gang’s youngest, Chan.

As of late, something had piqued his interest. It was a ball, one that would be held at the classiest hotel in Korea. In attendance would be some of Korea’s biggest business owners, some that Jeonghan had previously hustled.

One person in particular, Y/N Y/L/N, had caught his attention. He knew that you were in possession of the limited edition diamond encrusted ring his followers had failed to acquire before; but this time, he was hell bent on getting it since it would bring in enough money to help a large group of people.

On the day of the ball, Jeonghan was dressed to the nines, hair slicked back as he donned a suit that accentuated his body.

“I knew I got your measurements right, thank god.” Joshua chuckled, a lint roller in hand.

“Thanks Josh, I’ll update you guys on what happens. You can go back to making the bulletproof thing.” Jeonghan replied, a smile on his face.

“It’s a vest, but have fun and be safe.”

After bidding the resident costume designer, or as Joshua liked to call himself, ‘armourer’, goodbye, Jeonghan left for the hotel.

He had decided that it would be the best if he took the ring from you himself. Thanks to Jihoon’s hacking and the fake profile given by Seokmin, Jeonghan had secured a spot in the event.

That’s how he ended up speaking to the owner of an investment company, a drink in hand as he monitored your movements. Jeonghan wasn’t going to lie, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes.

You had been enjoying your night, speaking with your parents’ clients, until someone had pointed out the gentleman that had been looking at you the whole night. You couldn’t believe that anyone would be looking at you, but when you turned to look at the person in question, you almost dropped your drink.

Jeonghan smirked, knowing that you were now aware of his existence, and like everyone else, was entranced. Excusing himself from the conversation, Jeonghan made his way to you, a charming smile on his face.

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice you.”

His smooth voice had you blushing as you rushed to put down your glass before you actually dropped it.

“Thank you, but who are you?”

Your question had caught Jeonghan off guard; he thought you would immediately fall for him, just like every other girl before this. You were obviously shooting him heart eyes, but you were told not to trust people so easily.

“I just took over a few companies from my father, I’m afraid it would bore you if I talked about work.” Jeonghan easily lied, a kind smile on his face.

Jeonghan knew he couldn’t just steal the ring from you since that would be too evil, even in his books. That’s how the pair of you ended up in a corner of the huge ballroom, talking about anything and everything under the sun.

“Your dress is off the newest Dior collection right?” Jeonghan asked, a soft smile on his face as he gazed over the dress.

“Yes, stunning isn’t it?” You smiled, playing with the fabric.

“Of course, but I think it helps that the person wearing it is beautiful too.”

You didn’t mean to, but you had laughed at what he said. Once again Jeonghan was confused. You were clearly blushing and charmed at what he had said, but your laugh suggested otherwise.

However, you were without a doubt, under Jeonghan’s spell. Every time he smiled or laughed, you couldn’t help but follow suit. Jeonghan on the other hand, realized that he was actually having fun with you, especially since you had relaxed a bit.

“That was the ring that was on auction last week right?” Jeonghan asked, sipping on his drink.

“Yeah, some guy who my dad set me up with gave it to me. I didn’t want to accept it, but it’s really pretty so I thought why not.”

Jeonghan noticed that you would constantly adjust the ring that was on your pinkie finger, noting that it was rather loose.

He also noticed your eyes flickering over to the huge dance floor every so often, and saw that you had been tapping your feet in time with the beat of the live band that was playing.

A smile grew on his face as he stood up and adjusted his suit.

“May I have this dance?”

Soon enough, the pair of you were doing the waltz, Jeonghan’s hand placed on your hip while the other grasped onto your hand. An opportunity had presented itself to Jeonghan as he could feel the cold ring against his finger.

Jeonghan locked eyes with you and he gave you a smirk as he led the dance.

“I know I’ve said it a few times tonight, but you’re really stunning. I mean it.”

And Jeonghan did mean it, you were absolutely captivating.

“You’re the first person to make me feel what I’m feeling.” Jeonghan mumbles, gazing into your eyes.

He had become very hesitant, not knowing if he should proceed with his plan. Jeonghan wasn’t sure if getting the ring was a good idea now; you weren’t a bad person.  

You, on the other hand, were trying not to squeal at Jeonghan’s greasiness. It wasn’t every day that a handsome man comes into your life and spits out all the cheesiest pickup lines on earth.

“What movie did you steal that from?” You asked, laughing.

“I’m not sure, I only watch noir films.” Jeonghan answered, smiling as he watched you.

“So you like crime huh?”

Jeonghan nodded, chuckling at the dramatic irony.

“Have you heard about the newest Seventeen case? It’s insane, some member cheated some corrupt CEO and everything’s crazy.” You said, rather amused.

“Seventeen huh? That hustler guy sounds like a blast.” Jeonghan smiled.

“He sure does. I mean, Seventeen isn’t the worst out there. At least they’re helping.”

Jeonghan was quite shocked at your words. He always assumed that people thought badly of Seventeen and he was relieved to find someone that understood what exactly they were doing as a gang.

“You know, we’ve been talking for hours, but I still haven’t gotten your name.” You told him.

Jeonghan’s eyes had flickered away from yours for a split second before he locked eyes with you again. He was internally panicking, not knowing if he should be telling you the truth since you could easily do a background check on him.

You could sense the panic in Jeonghan’s eyes, even though he had tried to hide it.

“Hey, it’s fine if you don’t want to. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around anyways. This could be like Cinderella.” You told him, smiling.

You were certain you would be seeing him around, it would be hard for anyone doing business to not give out their name. You just assumed Jeonghan was playing hard to get. Jeonghan had a small smile on his face as he twirled you around, relieved that you didn’t find it strange.

Soon enough, the event was coming to a close and people were leaving. Jeonghan was still having a mental debate, unsure if he should take the ring. On one hand, you didn’t really care for it, on the other, it was still a gift from someone. When it came time for you to leave, he had made his decision.

“Thank you for tonight.”

Jeonghan gave you a soft smile, removing his hand from your waist, his other hand still holding onto yours.

“No, thank you.” Jeonghan replied, stepping away as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your hand.

As he removed his hand from yours, he had slipped the ring off, keeping his expression stable. You were so shaken by his actions that you hadn’t noticed anything suspicious.

Jeonghan watched as you blushed, slipping the ring into his pocket as he took a few steps back, preparing to leave. He starts to walk backwards towards the exit, giving you a smirk as he says,

“And by the way, you can call me Angel.”

[occupyscifi]

Chaff

"hey, I don't mind adverts" said Shellay Smithson as she casually vaped from the e-meth pipe. It was Friday night at the Junior Hedonists Ball and all the perma-terns were there drinking their weekly salary "I just don't like adverts that try to sell me things I actually want" "yeah, too right" said Sampson, ur bald androgynous  head bobbing in time to the music ee was streaming direct to ur ears. For her part Shellay preferred to hear the house tunes, old fashioned style. Though the Junior Hedonists Ball tended to have a very specific aesthetic it took place in the nearest pub to the office. The pub itself was an ancient looking glazed brick building, its interior ripped out to satisfy certain steampunk machine gothic tastes. That the entire building had been standing for less time than Shellay had been working in social media relations didn't matter. The city around her changed so much and so quickly Shellay barely noticed even when whole streets and neighbourhoods vanished. Once upon a time fashion had merely been about clothes and hairstyles. Now with largescale 3d printing meaning that the average time to build an entire street could be measured in days whole neighbourhoods came and went according to the whims of fashion. Shellay could still remember last season’s look- Bauhaus glam with a hint of gay seventies New York. Not her favourite style, but she was clearly in a minority. Even so she knew she only needed to go across the river to the parklands to drink up the whole Victorian glasshouse vibe. She could never get enough of Crystal Palaces with their ornate manmade flower displays. She wondered idly if it was still there, but then a glance in her smartglasses told her the truth. Day pass to the new arboretum extension for half price. Just the thing to take her latest fella on the weekend. That grated, made her feel cheap. What was the point in doing anything if it was given straight to you? Everyone knew the best things in life were what you earned for yourself. "I'm getting sick of getting what I want" continued Sampson, ur delicate eyes narrowing "maybe it’s time to start getting what I don't want" "no, but seriously. It’s really pissing me off” said Shellay, knowing that Sampson was just quoting the lines from a song. Probably one ee'd written as well. All artists were self referential but Sampson found it hard to be anything else "it just, well, it just sucks the fun out of life. I'd like things to be a little random, know what I mean?" she took a hit on the pipe and looked around the lounge of the junior hedonists ball. Several dozen long thin creatives lounged at different fey angles. On the walls adverts that were linked to her smartglasses told her of her favourite bands and when they'd be in town "I used to like being surprised by getting ads for shit I'd never ever want" "life insurance" said Sampson with a grin "or incontinence pants. Seeing hundreds of ads on the tube trying to sell me bank products I could never afford. I used to like that" ee looked nostalgically into the middle distance "knowing that it didn't matter how little money I had, because I certainly wasn't going to spend it on any of that crap" ee sighed "now I find myself reaching into my pocket all the time because as soon as there's a new line of grungesynths in at Hypersound or if they start reissuing genuine vintage Konverse I know about it, like, point 9 seconds later. I'm just one click away from bankruptcy" "yeah, it’s killing me too" agreed Shellay, leaning back against the black crushed velvet furnishings. She noticed that there was a link on the wall for a new hypermodernist night club on the New Kent Road. One she had been wanting to go to for weeks but her bank balance hadn't been healthy enough "I mean, for fucks sake, how do they always know?" "S'your line of work love" said Sampson, taking a deep draught of ur snakebite and black "all algorithms isn't it? Way we learned it at school every time you do a search, every time you buy something or even look too long at an ad it gets recorded. Ol' google and FB and the rest keep a big bloody list so advertisers can build a virtual model of what you like and what you hate so they can make sure your eyeballs only ever see good old high value content" "huh. Well I guess you paid attention at school more than me" said Shellay, sipping her red wine "besides, I do apps. I design little programs that make life easier for people. Algorithms and all that are big level stuff. Not my cup of tea at all" "well maybe you should design an app" said Sampson, eyeing an ad for the sort of casual cuddle encounter that ee craved on those long lonely weekends "you know, like an adblocker, but instead of showing nothing it lets in ads people don't want to buy. Same difference I guess, but at least someone sees the ads" "yeah, I like that” said shellay idly "but don't they still have the death penalty for ad blocking software?" "nah" said Samspon "just life with no WIFI" “you’re right. That’s probably worse”

The idea should have joined the other half drunk, half stoned conversations between Sampson and Shellay- posted to social media and then forgotten about. But for some reason it didn't, not least because several days later Shellay saw some market research that confirmed that it wasn't just her and Sampson that were getting pissed off at getting all they wanted. Shellay read through it thoughtfully and got designing. "I mean, it wouldn't be too hard to do, would it?" she asked Jackie Oh, her legal advisor and chief coder. They were sitting in Regents park, in a popup coffee place resembling a Mongol Yurt – one seemingly designed by Alexander Hemingway "we don't even have to use adblocker, we can rip off some of that old TOR code, right?" "no one's used TOR in years" said Jackie "it’s like a red rag to the software gods" she nodded up at the holy trinity up on the wall- Google, Apple and Facebook "because for them if they don't know who you are then they don't have a business model. If you aren't a trackable node then they can't sell your data. And without that they've got nothing" "well, that isn't really what I want to do" said Shellay "it’s really the opposite. I want to send out false data, you know get the app to do random searches for things so you get ads for tampons if you're a bloke or whatever. The advertisers shouldn't notice because it’s not like you're blocking the ads, if anything technically you should be seeing even more of them" "I guess it can be done” said Jackie, scratching her head. The open plan coffee yurt in the park was a focal point for the sort of popup office in which Shellay like to do business "but why? I mean, who the fuck wants to see ads for things they don't want to buy?" "you'd be surprised" said Shellay "there's always a niche in the market, and besides as soon as people get what they want then they usually want the opposite straight away. That's a law of human nature. I mean that's why Hindr was so successful. Who'd have thought a dating app that matched you with the most unsuitable person ever would be so popular? It's like half of my married friends met on there" “Huh, I suppose" said Jackie, stretching her fingers in the imitation gauze contact gloves that allowed her to manipulate the code she spent her life immersed in "but, you know, just in case it's not. I'm still getting paid. Right?" "this will work" said Shellay, sketching out the design of the app already. She'd make sure that the interface showed a melange of ads that people didn't usually see anymore. She paused for a moment to think about the name. Something short and punchy. Well, that would come last. You always knew a good name when you heard it, and sometimes a rubbish name was even better. So long as it stuck in your head it didn’t matter. "chaff" said Jackie after a few minutes, a statement so out of the blue that Shellay almost spilled hr cup of magic mushroom tea. It didn't help of course that the shrooms were coming along a little stronger than planned. Her own fault for ordering the grande instead of the regular. "the fuck?" "its what the code was for. Back in the day. The TOR code" sighed Jackie, wondering why people didn't just have the auto explain on their smartglasses enabled at all times. It had certainly helped her navigate the minefields of social interaction. Now she was so socially adept she could detect irony so long as it was made fairly obvious "it’s a military thing. Best way apparently if you're in a jet plane and someone locks a missile onto you. Well, you can't outrun it and you probably can't shoot it down because it’s too small. Instead what the jet would do was let out a bunch of little silver bits of paper that would confuse the targeting system of the missile. Meant that instead of detonating against the jet they'd just blow up in the air" "what's this got to do with my software?" asked Shellay, wondering whether the shrooms were making this impossible to understand or whether Jackie was just babbling shit. "it’s what the TOR code did. False positives. Means that the missile- you know, Google or whoever – can't get a lock on you because the software performs random searches in your name. Added into that the software can access your cam and fuck with the eye recognition. Meaning you can pretend that you've spent ages looking at this or that ad. It'll totally fuck the tracking software. They won't know who you are or what you want" "cool" said Shellay "people get tired of their own personality anyway. They like to have someone else for a while. There's a reason people used to check into hotels using a false name" as she spoke she selfied, a quick kooky shot of her on the beanbag, evidence of her creativity around her. A few drawing pencils to make it look like she designed her apps the old fashioned way. This she then uploaded to the dozen or so social media sites on which she carefully curated her public persona "its nice to be anonymous for a change" "right" said Jackie, eyeing her own feed as it suddenly became dominated by chatter about the new app that Shellay was working on. As she watched Shellay carefully massaged into life several twitterbots and zombie accounts who would speculate wildly on the new idea she had "I'm sure you do. Anyway, at least you can use that for the name" "eh?" asked Shellay, slightly distracted "chaff" said Jackie, idly surfing in her e-glasses through great DNA ribbons of code, cutting and repasting them together into a new pattern as demanded by Shellay "S' what you can call the app" "genius" said Shellay, her eyes half closing as she looked at the light filtering into the yurt from outside. It made such pretty patterns on the inside of her eyelids.

Shellay didn't have many dealings with the police, what with her being a moderately wealthy middle class white woman coupled with the almost complete eradication of poor people from entering the city. So when the not very plainclothes man and woman grabbed her on the way back to her apartment some days later Shellay immediately texted her lawyer. "what’s the trouble officer?" she asked, then instantly regretted it. Using the word trouble suggested that she had a guilty conscience "how can I help you?" "oh, we're not with the police" said the male “you could have fooled me” said Shellay “what with the whole earpiece things you’ve got going on and the fact you’re both obviously wearing bulletproof vests. You couldn’t be more obviously in security if you were wearing a uniform” "we’re from an independent agency" said the female, her smile all sharp teeth and no humour. "one that dabbles in your chosen economic sphere" echoed the man "I'm not sure what that means" said Shellay baffled "are you the app police?" "no" said the female "but we represent some large advertising concerns. They aren't happy with your app" "why not?" asked Shellay “people still look at the adverts. So they get paid either way. What difference does it make to them?" "oh, it makes none. In fact they don't really give a shit. If they did, well, we'd probably be beating the crap out of you. They just wanted you to know that it’ll probably cause something of a shit storm" "why?" asked shellay "look at it this way" said the female "everything we do in society is based on market research. The sort of market research that comes from using ad revenues and pageviews. If enough people buy your app then it’s going to get seriously skewed because we won't know what people actually want" "you exaggerate" said shellay "all that's going to happen is a few people are gonna download my app, go 'huh, fun' for about ten seconds. Then they'll go onto something else. That’s what apps are about. It’s not something life changing, is it?" "lets hope not" said the female humourlessly "otherwise we'll be back, and we won't be so friendly"

"…and raise our glasses to Shellay, who made this event possible by making a fuck load of cash this week" Sampson raised ur glass and saluted the group of friends and hangers on who had filled the Junior Delinquents ball. The app had been out two weeks and so far had beaten even the most optimistic estimates, even those made by the most obvious of Shellay's sock puppets. "hey, it was nothing" said Shellay modestly, placing her lace gloved hand against her chest "and by that I mean I actually worked really fucking hard. And usually that means nothing. So its ace that people actually bothered to download this app" she saluted with her glass "Cheers guys" she added, and drained the glass in one. The evening would on as expected, Shellay prowled the room, making sure to flirt with anything and everything with two functioning legs. Eventually she found herself pressed against an earnest young researcher from a local bespoke search company. Rather like the bespoke tailors of years gone by his company specialised in finding all the things that google couldn't. The name that were too common to give a unique google search, the information redacted for copyright or decency reasons. If it existed and was worth looking for, it was reasoned, then someone was probably trying to hide it from you. Bespoke search meant you always found what you were looking for. "sounds fascinating" Shellay had yawned. She had a low threshold for earnest people. They always made the world sound so difficult. Full of hard moral choices when in reality everything was equally compromised, so you may as well have a good time. "well, we can't all do what you do" said the boy, and Shellay glared at him, one eye pressed closed so she could see whether he was being sarcastic or not through all the booze she'd drunk. "I'm serious" the boy added, his face blushing slightly "I think its genius. And so subtle. The big software boys don't seem to have twigged yet. By the time they do they'll be up shit creek and no mistake" "what d'you mean?” said Shellay, unsure whether the boy knew he was talking to. "chaff" said the boy, helpfully reminding her "its genius, pitched perfectly to take in both the retro market of people who remember when adverts weren't all micro targeted to our specific desires and to people like me who get the real deal" "real deal?" said Shellay weakly, the room was starting to spin and she was feeling suddenly rather sloshed. "that it's going to fuck capitalism up royally" beamed the boy "you got their weak spot. Without accurate information they can't know what we want. If they don't know what we want then they can't give us what we want. If they can't give us what we want then we'll rebel and take it ourselves. Its genius. Absolute bloody genius" "yeah. Yeah I meant that" said Shellay, leaning into the boy and putting an arm around his tweed encased shoulder "we should discuss this further. Perhaps somewhere quieter" But if they did discuss it Shellay didn't remember. When she woke up in the boy’s bed all she could recall was how he had pleasured her in the back of a self driving pedicab. They'd been riding through the new Manga district that had just been built and she'd orgasmed to the sight of a giant mecha Pikachu shooting past. Its jetsteam had been like rainbows, and if the boy had still been discussing the overthrow of the capitalist system she certainly wasn't listening.

The first time that Shellay noticed something was wrong was when she wanted to visit Regents Park. She was hankering for a grande Shroom latte and Jackie had wanted to go over some updates. The Chaff app was still selling well, and selling well enough to make sure that there were now about twenty knockoffs floating around. Shellay had cheerfully launched legal challenges in the hope of being bought off in order to add to her revenue stream. All in all life was going rather well, or it was until she noticed what had happened to the park. "what the fuck" said Shellay "oh yeah" said Jackie who had shared the uber with her "yeah, they changed it. I guess it just wasn't popular anymore" "what?" said Shellay, pointing at the vast block of buildings that had replaced one of her favourite haunts "and this is?" "well, I guess people like modernism again" Jackie replied, looking at the cold brutalist features of the blocks of buildings. They were the colour of London sky, and the windows were small and mean looking "I suppose we could hope that its going to get resprayed by graffiti artists or something. You know this grey block look really offsets electric pink…." "no such luck" said Shellay with a sigh, she had brought up the plans on the googlemaps app which tracked the ever changing city as it emerged from the great collective unconscious of the millions that lived there "its just going to stay like this. Why the fuck? I can't think anyone would like this" Jackie folded her arms "really, you don't know?" "trust me, apart from a few architecture perverts I can't think of anyone" "Maybe your app is having an effect already" "no way" said Shellay "come on, its random. It shouldn't have any effect on the data that goes into the great google-lord. There are filters and stuff" "clearly they aren't working" said Jackie, peeking at the planned developments on the drawing board for the next six months "and I can't see a single new district I'd actually like to live in. World of leather sounds so much more exciting than it really is" "seriously?" said Shellay, scrolling in horror through what the city would look like in a few mere weeks time. All the fashion chains she had loved to hate, the trashbarn where you could get an entire new wardrobe for a quid, all of them were being demolished in favour of entertainments that barely deserved the name. Museums of stamp collecting. Monuments to great engineers past and present. Massage parlours for the elderly. Who the fuck would want to visit that? "you think our app is doing this?" "I can't think of anything else that would" said Jackie "not unless the people of this city have a sudden stiffy for a district made of glass dogs, or one built to resemble the bombed out London streets of the blitz" "that last one sounds fun" said Shellay hopefully "no, its very realistic" said Jackie "right down to the dead bodies and the potholes in the road. And the rationing. I saw it this morning. It was trending on WTFF news" "shit. Maybe it is us" said Shellay, blinking in surprise "fuck, maybe we did do this. We broke the world with our app. And if we broke the world with randomness…." she turned to Jackie with shining eyes "just imagine what we could do if we planned it" "way ahead of you boss" said Jackie, tapping away in the empty air "I can change the code so we can get anything we want. You fancy having a district based on that crappy kids show you loved?" "hey, Round the Twist was ace" said Shellay irately "and yes, yes I do" "then its just a matter of…." Began Jackie and then trailed off, the smile draining from her face "what is it?" asked Shellay "can't we alter the code? We put it there, so we should be able to" "you didn't tell me you did this" said Jackie, looking at Shellay accusingly. "do what?" asked Shellay, suddenly confused "I've been locked out" said Jackie "specifically you’ve  locked me out. Is it because you've found another coder? Because if it is can I just tell you that…." "what other coder? What are you talking about?" asked shellay "I haven't done anything with the code. I'm a designer. I do concepts and colours. Numbers is your domain" "well somehow you locked me out” said Jackie irately "and so I can't do anything till you let me back in" "oh for fucks sake" said Shellay "clearly there's been some kind of mistake" she pulled on her smartglasses and brought up the interface for her app "I'll reset the admin privileges so you can get back in there. And hurry, I want to start fucking with the city. I’ve always wanted to shape something using just the power of my psyche" But it would be easier said than done. Passwords were entered only to be rejected. Appeals to the higher name of security scans, iris and thumb print were likewise rejected. "someone's hacked you" said Jackie plainly "they've changed your access codes. You better just hope they're doing it to extort money, because if they've twigged how powerful Chaff can be then we are in deep shit" Jackie looked closely at Shellay "so is there anyone you suspect could have done this? Have you shared any intimate moments recently?" "just one" said Shellay "but he was such a sweet guy. All he went on about was…." She trailed off, recalling the boy who'd gone on about the end of capitalism. The swirl of pink mist where her memories should be "that bloody bastard" she cursed "he's hacked me. He's going to bring about the end of capitalism, using my fucking app" she stared about her at the city, recoiling with horror as she imagined the blasphemies that the errant code would create. She imagined whole districts devoted to living examples of Marxist theory, roads that were named after obscure soviet thinkers “oh christ” she said, looking at Jackie in terror “I think we broke the world”