#i swear I CAN and i did in the past various sets of pieces that share the same art style for a short period of time

[windydrawallday]

I know I'm a risk taker for the way I present and/or the art styles I constantly switch on my art but- I can't not do it.

My brain, my hands, everything demands to shift constantly :') I think is lowkey tied to my shapeshifting spirit too sdkjfhsdkjhf

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Unexpected things you did that delight them:  

Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Malleus Draconia

Content: Fluff

You learned proper tea etiquette for Riddle  

It starts out with you just listening to him correct others as they go throughout the various teatimes of Heartslabyul. How it leads to you thrifting a tea set from a local shop is hard to say, and it’s chipped a bit on the plates, but it holds, and the lady gave it to you for a far cheaper price than she should have. But it cleaned up beautifully, you filled in the cracks with some leftover clay and didn’t even have to repaint it! It was already in Ramshackle blue and green.  

It is embarrassing when he finds you quizzing yourself on the different spoons and plates, but the smile that blooms is worth it.  

You have no idea that when you invite him over for a tea party a few weeks after, it’s the first one that he hasn’t hosted himself. He borrows the same book from the library to brush up on his guest etiquette.  

“Prefect, what are you-ah! A lovely set. If you were needing to learn I would be happy to assist! What teas do you prefer? I will bring complimenting savories or sweets.”  

You carry glasses cleaner for Azul  

Assuming you don’t carry it already or if you don’t wear glasses. You and Azul usually spend a lot of time at Octavinelle but occasionally he will come to Ramshackle. He has since seen the work that you put into fixing up the place and the furniture you've built and appreciates it a way that the others can’t. Afterall, many of his own pieces are repaired or thrifted antiques for authenticity.

Lounging on the couch while listening to one of the jazz records he brought, you take the glasses from his hand when he realizes that he forgot his own cleaner.  

“Prefect, why would you have glasses wipes, you don’t wear any. Ah, you carry them for me. How thoughtful of you, my friend! I hope I’m not putting you out any.” 

You baked him a birthday cake for Trey  

Everyone gets nervous when Trey’s birthday comes around. How do you bake for a baker? He got past the disappointed feeling a long time ago though, perfectly prepared to make his own birthday cake.  

What isn’t accounted for you is pushing him out of the kitchen, declaring it against the rules for him to bake his own birthday cake. He could fight you on it, but he’s intrigued at this point on what you will make.  

What he doesn’t anticipate is a simple vanilla cake with a blueberry filling, a light buttercream frosting and candied violets and almonds scattered on the top. It’s simple but delicious and clearly just for him.

“You’ve got some real potential here. Where did you learn to make candied violets? You foraged and learned how just for me? Ah, that was too much for me. Thank you.”  

You clean Ruggie’s ears 

Ruggie does a lot of things to ensure everybody else gets taken care of, which means sometimes he neglects himself a bit. The showers got trashed over at Savanaclaw so he asks to use yours after a particularly messy Spelldrive Practice. As long as Grim can play with the disk in the backyard with the ghosts, it’s a deal for you.  

He comes out fluffy, hair sticking out in all sorts of places, which means you can see inside his ears and see the dirt still stuck in there. Offering to clean them wasn’t a big deal to you, you have to for Grim all the time.  

It gets awkward for a minute when he lays his head in your lap, but as soon as the cotton hits the inside and starts wiping up all the dirt and grim, he’s putty in your hands  

“I swear they weren’t that bad but-oh. Oh that’s nice. I think I can hear colors now. And your heartbeat. What’s got you racing, huh? I didn’t moo. I did not!” 

You got pictures of his family for Malleus  

This man has pictures of himself and his parents up on the walls, but none of the rest of his family. So, you work with the ghost for a long time, getting candid shots and other bit and pieces and slowly pulling them together. When Malleus’s birthday rolls around, you actually feel nervous about it.  

When he opens his present, to see the photo album, he gets unexpectedly quiet and soft, scanning through the quotes and stories written off to the side. You give little tidbits of how you get some shots, especially the times where you were sure that Lilia knew but didn’t say anything.  

Some even had him! Silver putting him in a headlock during some play wrestling, Lilia tapping his nose while playing chess, a rare moment of him and Sebek reading together where the half fae is actually relaxed.  

At the bottom are small, framed photos of what you thought were the best ones. Silver in his armor, surrounded by animals and birds alike, his sword gleaming with sunlight, looking gentle and graceful and alert. Sebek on horseback, wind streaking his hair to his skull and grinning like a madman, his favorite stead racing fearlessly. Lilia leaning against the railing of the balcony of Diasomnia dorm and watching the sunset, eyes fond and pink in the dying light. 

“I can’t think of a single present I have ever received that has been as thoughtful as this one. Your heart truly knows a kindness that is rare, my friend. But you are missing. Let us take one together. A selfie, yes?”  

[tuesdayiminlove]

happy disaster

rockstar!eddie x fem!waitress!reader (imperfect for you universe)

summary: how you two meet

author's note: an ask about how they met came earlier today and i couldn't help myself lol. not proofread sorry! also this could be read as a standalone! but u can read the og part here! hope u guys enjoy lmk what yall think xoxo

word count: 3.1k

You’ve had your fair share of jobs throughout the last few years, trying to make ends meet while also being a consumer of the various cute things you see when you’re at the mall with your friends. One time (and this may have been one of the more miserable experiences), you worked as a receptionist for an auto shop (get it now?)).

Needless to say, you were at the bottom of the hierarchy at that whole joint. When you weren’t answering calls and taking hyperspecific notes to not confuse the actual mechanics, you were practically shunned from the moment you stepped up from your seat and onto the street to eat your lunch at the bench outside. And whenever your lips did part to make even the simplest of comments, the men either laughed at you or made you feel stupid (“You guys hired me! Clearly I’m not a fucking idiot!” you dreamt of saying, but you were just never one for the dramatics and confrontation of it all).

And, the worst part, on days you couldn’t go into work, none of the other receptionists would switch with you.

(“Sorry, babe, I just can’t,” you remember Joey Warner staying after taking a drag of his cig, coughing mere seconds later from not exhaling immediately. You wanted to take the cigarette between your fingers, toss it down, and squish it with your shoes. You really needed to pick up your brother from school, and no one at the shop is ever up Joey’s ass since he’s a guy.

“Oh. It’s alright.” You curse yourself and your lack of ever wanting conflict, because you’re more than positive that this boy deserves a beating for not taking the reins for an hour just so that your poor baby brother won’t have to wait on the cold sidewalk for your mom, who is forty minutes late.

You walk back into the shop without another word.)

So. yeah, call this mechanic memory useless, but now it's clear that your jobs have been absolute dog shit in the past.

But being a waitress at Carly’s Diner, in comparison, takes the cake in the coworker camaraderie contest.

Like, now, you’re enjoying your break with Carrie, splitting half a cupcake that Jim managed to slip into your guys’ hands when he was pulling the fresh desserts from the oven. You two have turns at it, taking nimble bites from the vanilla confection and wiping rainbow sprinkles off your uniform in the process. Your nose blends in the smell of the cupcake and Carrie’s sweet perfume, leaving a little bubble where you can hardly tell what the boys in the kitchen are whipping up right now.

Judy passes through the doors in a haste, heaving before setting her eyes on you two. The notepad in her hands is crumpled up and her hair looks all over the place, eyes bewildered as she stalks towards you and Carrie, a complan ready to spill from her red lips. 

“This fucking couple on table three is driving me nuts! Nuts!” She slumps her back against the wall and swipes a piece of frosting off the cupcake before sticking it in her mouth, sighing in relief.

“Hey,” Carrie swats Judy’s hand, “watch the cupcake!” She places it behind her back possessively.

Carrie is nearly six months pregnant and craving every sweet treat Jim has to offer in between tables and shifts. It’s a miracle that she let you split the dessert with her just now, “And table three, you said?”

Judy ignores her earlier words and nods. “I swear to God, I don’t understand your goddamn generation and why you heaps are so fucking rude. I can't do this.”

“Don’t group us with those weirdos,” says Carrie. “And I’d like to see them be rude to a pregnant woman. Protect this,” she hands you the cupcake carefully, looking at you in the eyes with intent, “and I mean it.”

Her voice is so determined, you decide that you don’t want your fair share of bites anymore. You nod dutifully.

“I got this, Jude.” She swipes the notepad from the older woman’s hands.

And with that, Carrie is kicking herself off the wall and out of the kitchen, into the main part of the diner. You silently pray for the couple that now has to deal with a moody and pregnant Carrie. 

See? Now, this is what you mean! No mechanic or receptionist at Billy’s Auto Parts will ever be willing to face an alleged-annoying couple for their coworker. Sometimes, waitressing can take the light and happiness out of you once you’re clocked out, but at least you’re surrounded by the half-decent people in your town.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Judy calls out with a wicked laugh. “Gotta love that girl… hey can I have a bite?”

You frown, knowing you’re already unable to say no when Judy is stressed and you know for sure that the confection in your hand is enough to sweeten even the most stressed—Jim just has that magic to him. “Yeah, but don’t make the dent obvious.”

You think you’re gonna spend the rest of your break with Judy, hiding in between the two walls in the corner of the kitchen until Carrie comes back. You lick a small sprinkle off the cupcake, ready to ask the woman if her daughter won the spelling bee that she’s been freaking out over all week, when the office door swings open and Lenny’s head peeks out, eyes going to the first two waitresses that he can spot.

“Hey!” he shouts yours and Judy’s last names to steal the attention. “Can one of you guys go out and get Evan? Her daughter’s principal is on the phone.” He wipes his sweat-stained brow and doesn’t wait for a response. “Thanks,”

You and Judy look back at each other. And immediately you know that you’re not going to make Judy be the one.

“I got it,” you say with a soft smile. “... You’re gonna eat the rest of this are you?”

She laughs and swipes the cupcake. “For you, my love, I wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you.”

You blow her a kiss, already making your way to the double doors of the kitchen, straightening out your ponytail and getting your waitressing voice ready (patient and respectful, garnering the best tips you can try to get). Your eyes give one swipe across the diner, catching Carrie’s eye as she talks to the couple sitting down beneath her, holding her precious bump to make a show of it. She gives you a sly wink and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Afternoon rush makes it hard to spot Evan at first. His smaller stature makes it even harder to spot him in the crowd, but your eyes eventually zone in on him smiling at customer that is blocked by a family getting up to leave. You smile upon finding him and make your way to the table.

As you get closer, you finally notice who Evan is speaking two, and your brows pinch quizzically. The man is hunched, looking over the menu with sunglasses adorning his face despite his table not even facing the sun. His jet black curls curve around the lines of his face, making his features harder to notice. It almost reminds you of the movies you watch late at night when you’re munching on diner leftovers on your couch, the runaway criminal stopping for a bite to eat while trying to flee the state. 

“Evan,” you say softly, not wanting to draw attention to yourself but you know it's already bound to happen since you’re switching places with him. “Lenny’s got your daughter’s school on the phone. They’re asking for you.”

The man’s eyes widen. “Great,” he mutters, “What do you think it is this time?” “I hope she said ‘fuck you’ to that little pipsqueak again,” you joke, seeing the anxiety in Evan’s eyes at not knowing why he’s receiving a call during work. You remember the first time he got called to his daughter’s school from work due to her cursing out an older boy: the entire kitchen was laughing—Evan included—as they all wished him good luck with that meeting. “Can’t be worse than that.”

He sighed, turning back to the customer, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m going to hand you off to her for a bit.” He says your name to further introduce you two. "Thank you for your patience.”

And for the first time up close, you look at the sunglassed man and smile. Perfect teeth flash at you, mildly astonishing you at how cute he looked when he did so. It’s not abnormal for you to find a customer attractive (it’s human, we’re human), but you don’t think a smile has ever made you secretly stop you from breathing for a second. 

Flustered, you’re clumsy as you and Evan switch spots. He pats your shoulder one last time, muttering a thank you as he rushes to the back. You follow his movements and frown for a split second and forget your task at hand. You hope his daughter is okay. You hope the kitchen will be laughing in t-minus three minutes over the fact that little baby-Evan gained a new curse word under her belt.

“Sorry,” you say, looking back at the man. You find him looking directly at you, knowing only because of how his head is positioned. His sunglasses are too tinted to even see a little beneath. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

“Oh—uh, yeah,” he stammers, before clearing his throat and offering a crooked smile. “Coffee, please. Milk and two sugars.”

Your handwriting matches the pace as he speaks. You hold a smile on your face to keep up pleasantries. “And have you decided what you would like to eat?”

“Not yet,” he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the menu. “Kind of hard to focus.” There’s a pause before he adds, a little quieter, “The menu’s got a lot of… options.”

You raise an eyebrow, tucking your notepad in the small pocket of your apron. You turn your head to see if anyone else is making coffee right now. You see Carrie there, and silently celebrate when she’s already staring at you. “All good. I’ll get your coffee ready and be right back–”

“—Wait.”

Your brows pinch, confused. “Yes?” His hand rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I was just, um… wondering if you had a favorite on the menu? Like… if there’s something you always recommend. Or—” He hesitates again, “Or like your favorite?”

You don’t know why he's so flustered. You don’t know why it makes you flustered. For a beat, you just look at him. Is he… trying to flirt with me? The thought isn’t unwelcome, but you certainly weren’t expecting it, or really believing it just yet. You tilt your head, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

“Well,” you say eventually, “We have an all day breakfast, and that’s my favorite part of the menu, and I get it a lot. It’s on the next page.”

You wait for him to turn the menu, but he continues to stare back up at you, mouth agape.

“... Is that something you’re interested in?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” he replies immediately. And then, more composed, “Yeah, I can be in the mood for breakfast.” He finally flips the page, and his head tilts up to yours fleetingly.

“Great! Our cook, Jim, makes the best strawberry and white chocolate pancakes, so that’s what I would recommend from the breakfast menu.”

His lips tug into a small, bashful smile. “Sounds perfect. I’ll take that.”

“Perfect!” you grin, scribbling his order onto your notepad. “I’ll take this to the kitchen, and have your coffee ready soon!” You flash him one more look before retreating back towards the kitchen. You finally get to look back at Carrie, who is still looking at you, this time arms crossed.

“How was the couple?” you ask when you’re about to pass her.

“Annoyed them enough to leave.” She grabs your wrist, and you just dodge the yelp that wants to escape your lips. “Do you know who you were just talking to?”

You freeze. Her grip is firm, her expression serious enough to make you hesitate. Your gaze darts briefly toward the dining area, but you stop yourself from looking back at him. The last thing you want to do is risk being caught gawking.

“I... no?” you whisper, unsure of how to answer. But even as you say it, you feel a subtle heat creeping up your neck. The weight of eyes on your back makes your skin prickle, as if the mystery man somehow knows he’s the topic of conversation.

“Why don’t you go check the newspaper in the locker room and get back to me, yeah?” she finally lets her grip go, smirking like she knows something you don’t.

Carrie's words linger repeatedly in your brain as you hesitantly allow yourself to drop off the man’s order, and then to go see whether or not you’re serving a serial killer. 

You slip the stripped paper from your notepad to Colin’s hands. “Table thirteen,” you say in passing as you make the rest of the way to the locker room, not even Judy’s cheerful wave as she smiles with a cupcake still in her hand can stop you from the mission you have decided to go on.

Upon entering the locker room, you gaze zeroes in newspaper lying flat on the bench, its closed pages teasing you with potential revelations about your current customer. You hesitantly flip it over as you come face-to-face with the front headline 

HIT AND DIP: ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON LEAVES IN HASTE AFTER CHICAGO SHOW 

Your eyes widen as they lock onto the grainy photo accompanying the article. There’s no mistaking it. The guy at table thirteen. Eddie Munson. Rockstar. Your customer. 

For the first time, you finally see his eyes. But instead of him taking his sunglasses off to reveal his brown hues, you see them straight on in the form of a camera flashing and printing onto the paper right in front of you. He looks borderline pissed as he’s gripping his guitar and shooing the paparazzi in the background away, the picture managing to catch the split-second that his eyes meet with the camera.

“He’s hot.”

You jump, clutching the newspaper to your chest as you turn to meet eyes with Judy casually leaning over your shoulder with a grin.

“Judy!” you hiss, sighing in relief. 

“What?” she says plainly, “He is.”

“He is also currently Evan’s customer on table thirteen that I now have to serve.”

Judy’s pupil’s dilate. “Oh shit.”

You want to make a joking comment, calling Judy a cougar, but you’re interrupted by Carrie peeking her head in through the door. She looks down at the newspaper in your hands, and then back to your eyes. “Told you,” she says, her smirk from earlier still on her face.

Before you can respond annoyingly, Jim’s voice blares through the back. “Order up!” he shouts. “Waffles for thirteen!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets.

“Jesus, do you ever slow down?” Carrie yells out the door.

They hear Jim’s “No!” and fan out back into the kitchen.

“Good luck, my love,” sings Judy.

“Can you ask for an autograph?” asks Carrie. She motions to her belly and gives it a soft pat. “She’ll think I’m real cool!” 

“Ha, ha,” you roll your eyes, already holding the order as you kick the double doors open, passing back into the diner. You try your best to calm your heart as you pour coffee into the kettle, taking sugar from the side of the counter and putting two teaspoons into the mug. You feel eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t need to look up to know whose covered eyes they belong to. 

It’s not every day that you get to serve a goddamn celebrity, so she thinks that everyone should give her a break (she’s specifically talking to her heart—it needs to stop beating so rapidly, making her brain think something is wrong).

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hold the plate on one hand, and the mug on the other. “Just a customer,” you whisper under your breath, beginning to walk. “Just a ridiculously famous, incredibly good-looking customer who better leave a stunning tip.”

As you approach table thirteen, you notice that Eddie shifts slightly in his seat. One of his legs bounces under the table, and he drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the booth.

You \ set the plate and coffee down in front of him, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Waffles and coffee,” you announce, sliding the plate and mug onto the table with practiced ease. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake—too much, anyway.

Eddie leans back, grinning up at you. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your heart stops. You couldn’t help but think his eyes hold a knowing look, like he knew exactly what went down and now knows that you know exactly who he is.

“Enjoy,” you grin back. 

Behind you, you hear him mutter something under his breath, followed by a quiet groan, and you can’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest that he enjoyed what you recommended to him. 

The rest of the rockstar’s stay goes smoothly. You don’t intend on saying anything to give away what you know, despite it probably already being known, and you're grateful by this normalcy. You refill his coffee, make light conversation (the weather is particularly sunny and pretty today, shining through the windows and letting pretty glow spread through the diner), and take his plate when he’s wiped it clean.

You don’t even think much of his stay, mind already going back to it being a regular customer that deserves no more or less attention than anyone else is supposed to.

(Sure, his smile lingers in your mind a little longer than you’d like to admit—so what if his smile is better than any that you’ve seen, anyway?)

It isn’t until Eddie’s up and left and you trail back to the table to wipe it off, a damp rag in hand, do you notice the wad of cash left in his wake that is definitely worth more than his bill.

Your jaw drops down, staring at it and contemplating what to do with that much of an amount of money in front of you.

Next to it, a folded napkin sits.

Your mind immediately goes to an autograph; that he’s one of those celebrities, and he just couldn’t resist leaving a little something to prove of his appearance.

You’re taken back when you unfold it to see his number scribbled messily onto the fabric. Your fingers shake as you move your thumb to fully read the note that he added at the bottom,

Call me. Please. :)

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I remember one of your past ask about Razzy who can't cook for the life of him, but what if he wanted to surprise his spouse on their birthday/anniversary? Can I get a headcanon on that please 😭😭😞

Did I really write about it? *Looking at my past asks* Huh, can't find this in my masterlist (geez, I can't be that forgetful). But hey, why not write a headcanon on it? Hope you enjoy it, dear anon ❤️

The plan was as simple as a turnip: send Farmer to Pelican Town for "some" reason, and Magnus would prepare a surprise dinner for their anniversary - a lovely dinner for two.

The trouble was that Magnus, for all his talent in magic and potions, was not a very good cook (he had even burned an egg once).

He thought it was unacceptable to order food, because he wanted to make a present for his wife himself. You can use magic, but that's not it either.

Fortunately, he had practiced cooking beforehand, when he got out of bed before Farmer almost every morning, and immediately rushed to the kitchen to fry an omelet and make coffee.

Ingredients - check! Kitchen utensils - check! The apron *kiss the cook wizard* and the hair and beard net - also there! The recipe for the anniversary meal is a salmon dinner, mmm, their favorite - here!

A few hours of fiddling in the kitchen, swearing and soiled clothes in flour and fish - and, oh miracle, Magnus cooked it, he made it himself! And it wasn't just edible, it was quite tasty. 👌

The returning Farmer had no sooner entered the house than they saw Magnus setting up a table and two chairs outside the house. On the table itself, on a beautiful tablecloth, there were dishes, cooked salmon, various appetizers and a bottle of Blue Moon Wine. The farmers gasped with delight, and Magnus's eyes filled with pride when he told to the farmer that he had made it without magic.

A summer evening, fireflies, delicious food, good wine, two spouses in love... Ah, what an amazing night.

They were so engrossed in each other that Magnus even forgot about the mountain of dirty (and somewhere broken) dishes, the smell of burning in the kitchen, and the broken mixer he'd left behind after the "battle". But it's not particularly important, he'll snap his fingers later and all the dishes will be clean and in one piece. Happy anniversary to you, dear Farmer!

[november-rayne]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Reunion

Summary: Sigyn's friends and family have begun arriving for the wedding. She catches up with her best friend and eagerly waits for Loki's return.

Loki finds it impossible to keep his thoughts (or his hands) to himself as he is reunited with his love.

Thor gets some surprising news from his father and decides to do something stupid to test Sif's feelings for him.

Word Count: 4500

Rating: Mature

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: Drunk Loki, Cringe PDA, Warriors Three

Chapter Index

Sigyn laughed as she set her teacup in its saucer, “No, he did not!?”

“I swear it! Right in front of my parents! I was mortified. I still cannot look my father in the eye.” Kaarina, Sigyn’s childhood friend, nibbled daintily on a lemon cookie.

Sigyn placed her hand on her chest as the fit of giggles overtook her. “Jørgen hardly seems the type. I cannot picture it.”

“I was just as surprised as you are now. I thought I was marrying the bookish one. I had no idea how voracious he could be,” Kaarina laughed.

Sigyn eyed her curiously, “But you are still enjoying married life?”

“Oh, yes. I enjoy it well enough, I suppose. I like overseeing my household. Decorating the manor was quite fun. I love sharing a bed with Jørgen," she wagged her eyebrows at her. “I have started a garden. Although, I must admit that I do get quite bored often.”

“You could find work? You would make an exceptional event planner.”

“Perhaps.” Kaarina was thoughtful for a moment, “Then again, I did put a lot of effort into finding a rich husband so that I would not have to work."

“Oh, listen to you, acting like you did not know Jørgen was completely infatuated with you since we were kids.”

“You know I love him to pieces.” She gave Sigyn a sly smile as she raised her teacup to her lips, “But he is no prince, Your Highness.”

Sigyn raised her palm to her friend, “Oh no, do not do that.” She looked over her shoulder to where her mother was taking tea with the Queen and a group of women consisting of various family and friends and wives and daughters of important nobles. “My mother is already constantly on the verge of tears. She has been weeping incessantly this past week. I do not know if she can make it through the ceremony without wailing. She is happy for me and extremely proud of herself for marrying me off to a prince, but she is not looking forward to leaving me here. She is trying to keep up appearances, but I have heard her crying to Father through the bed chamber door.”

“Is that why she got so…“ Kaarina mimicked drinking “… at the party last night?”

“I suppose.  She is also anxious for Father to return.” Sigyn fiddled with her bracelet. “I must admit, I feel the same way. I have been praying to the Norns for their safe arrival.”

Kaarina looked around the lush garden, “I keep pinching myself; I cannot believe I am attending a tea party in the Queen’s Garden. Soon I will be meeting the Crown Prince of Asgard.” She sighed and brushed her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “I cannot believe he is still single.”

“Well,” Sigyn ensured no one was eavesdropping, “he has a secret ‘special friend.’”

Kaarina huffed, “Figures.”

“You are a married woman.” Sigyn chastised her friend playfully.

Kaarina shrugged, “For Prince Thor, I would make an exception. I am sure Jørgen would not mind. I would tell him I was doing it for Asgard.”

“How devoted to the realm you are,” Sigyn laughed.

“For Asgard.” Kaarina raised her cup to Sigyn.

Sigyn laughed as she clinked teacups, “For Asgard.”

Sigyn glanced in Sif’s direction, “I should give you a bit of warning, however. Not that I think you would actually offer your body up to the Prince,”

Kaarina arched an eyebrow at Sigyn as if taking that statement as a dare.

“Said special friend is at this very tea party, so you might not want to voice your lust so loudly.”

Kaarina immediately began scanning the garden, “Oooh… intriguing! Which one is she? Please give me a hint. Does the Prince have a ‘type’? Blondes, brunettes, redheads?”

“Stop it.” Sigyn laughed, “It is a secret tryst. I am not even supposed to know about it.”

“Scandalous.”

“Indeed,” she replied as she snagged a cookie from the platter.

Fortunately for Sigyn, Kaarina had arrived the same day Loki departed. Catching up with her best friend had been a needed distraction from constantly thinking about her betrothed. They stayed up until dawn that first day talking and drinking wine.

The night before the tea party was Sigyn’s premarital ceremony. She had to dutifully sit through and keep a straight face as the married women in her family prepared her for what to expect on her wedding night, the importance of producing an heir, and how those two things were connected.

Sigyn had practiced looking doe-eyed and feigning bashfulness in the mirror to prepare herself. She dared not look at Kaarina for fear that she would erupt into fits of laughter. The whole ordeal was ridiculous and antiquated, in Sigyn’s opinion.

At one point, her aunt pulled her aside, wine heavy on her breath, and told her to keep a flask of strong spirits close to hand to make the act more bearable. The pity on Sigyn’s face was mistaken for fear, and soon, her aunt told everyone who would listen about what a frightened little deer her sister had raised, which only caused Lady Anderson to drink more.

Once that mortifying part of the ceremony was over, Loki’s mother and other female family members arrived, and the fertility rituals and blessings were performed. Sigyn did not mind this part so much. She got to wear a crown of flowers and be fed different foods and drinks infused with herbs said to enhance the viability of her womb.

One part of the ritual made her nervous: she was ordered to remove her ceremonial shift dress so that runes could be painted onto her abdomen as the priestess chanted over her. She had to move very strategically to not expose the mouth-sized bruise she had discovered on the inside of her thigh. Afterward, she silently thanked the Norns for giving her healthy thighs.

Sigyn held her breath as she watched the messenger bow and place a small parchment scroll into the Queen’s hand. She studied her face intently, looking for any sign of distress as she read the note. The Queen’s face was a perfect mask of neutrality as her eyes moved back and forth as she read.

“The hunting party has been spotted on the road! They are en route to the palace and should be here within the hour.” The gathered group of women clapped as exclamations of gratitude went up to the Norns.

Sigyn chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if that was all the message relayed. She knew that worrying would not change anything, her mother worried enough for the both of them, but she could not help but feel that something was wrong.

Kaarina patted her hand, “Not much longer now. Would you like to go freshen up before we head out to meet the group?”

Sigyn nodded silently and went to seek out the Queen, “Your Majesty,” she curtsied deeply, “Will you excuse me? I wish to change and freshen up before joining the welcoming party.” She swallowed a lump in her throat, unsure why she was getting so emotional.

Frigga placed her hand on her arm and gave it a little squeeze. “Of course,” she gave her a reassuring smile, “If anything terrible had happened, they would have sent someone to let us know immediately.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you. I am just…” Sigyn let out a long slow breath, trying to keep from crying, “I just need to lay eyes on him.”

Frigga nodded, “Go on. I will keep your mother near me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Sigyn curtsied again and returned to Kaarina, “Let us make haste.”

Sigyn dressed in her forest green high-neck halter dress, the one she was wearing when she met Loki for the first time.  It left her arms, shoulders, and most of her back bare. Kaarina helped her pin her hair into a messy bun with tendrils of her dark curls strategically kept loose. Sigyn wanted as much skin as possible exposed. She chose a gold belt and jewelry to match Loki's armor.

She rubbed a sheer rose lip stain on her bottom lip as she watched Kaarina decide which dress to change into. “Thor favors the color red,” she grinned.

“I cannot be too obvious. Hmmm… blue to match his eyes, I think.” She pulled on a beautiful ocean blue dress with a fitted bodice and little cap sleeves. She adjusted her breasts to make her cleavage more prominent. Pinching her cheeks to bring some color to them, she said, “I am ready, Siggy. Let’s get ourselves some princes!” The ladies laughed as they left Sigyn’s room arm-in-arm.

oOXOo

The late afternoon sun was filtering through the surrounding trees, casting intricate patterns on the paddocks surrounding the rows of stables. Sigyn could not recall a time when she had been more anxious as she paced at the top of the stone stairs that led to the palace.

She kept her eyes on the gates at the other end, willing them to open, straining her ears to hear the telltale sounds of the caravan approaching. ‘Open, damn it!’ she thought, ‘What is taking so long?’

“Hey, Siggy…”

Her stomach was in knots, “I can’t right now, Rina. I just… can’t. I am sorry.”

She put her hands up in defense, “Okay. I will be over here if you need me.” She moved to one of the stone benches and took a seat.

The Queen and Lady Anderson came down the path, followed by the rest of the women waiting for their men to return, including Sif and her mother.

“Nothing yet, Your Majesty.” Sigyn curtsied. The skin on her wrist was red and irritated from her bad habit of fidgeting with her bracelet when nervous.

Frigga picked up her arm and inspected it. “Come now, child.” She patted her wrist gently, “There is no need to work yourself up into such a state. What has you so agitated?”

“It is hard to explain. But I have had this feeling in the pit of my stomach since yesterday. I thought I was just getting nervous about the premarital ceremony even though…” she stopped herself from finishing that sentence when she saw her mother’s face, “I just have this nagging feeling that something is amiss.” She pressed both of her hands to her chest. “It is hard to take a deep breath. I need to know that he is okay.”

Frigga took Sigyn’s chin in her hand and looked into her eyes, “Hmmm…”

Sigyn held her breath. The Queen’s gaze seemed to bore right through her. “We just need to be patient. It should not be much longer now.”

She gave her a silent nod and a brave smile as she went to her mother. The two immediately held hands and put their foreheads together, sending silent prayers to the Norns.

Twenty more minutes passed before the sound of the caravan approaching brought Sigyn out of her meditation.  She turned and stood just behind the Queen as the gates slowly began to open.

The golden banners of the royal family came into view. The King, surrounded by his guards and riding his large eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, poured through the gate, bringing cheers from the waiting women.

“Where are the princes?” Sigyn searched intently as more men and horses entered the gates. “No. Something is not right.” It was then that she spotted Hogun, looking stoic as ever. Behind him came Volstagg, Thor, Loki, and Fandral. Each looked like they could topple from their steeds at any moment.

“No! No, no, no, no, no….” Sigyn shook her head as she noticed Loki’s arm in a stark white sling and the gingerly way four grooms helped him from his horse.

“Sigyn!” Astrid yelled after her daughter as she took off running down the stairs. She pushed her way into the paddock and past countless men, elbowing her way toward the prince. A guard caught her by her forearm before she could reach him.

“Take your hand off me! Let me pass!”

Odin turned toward the commotion. He nodded to the guard, “Let her through.”

She jerked her arm away and curtsied deeply in front of the King. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

“Rise.” He eyed her warily, “You will ruin your pretty shoes out here.”

“To Hel with my shoes! Please, Your Majesty, I wish to see His Highness. I need to get to Loki.”

Odin studied her face briefly; he took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes, “Interesting…”

“Your Majesty?”

Odin’s eye crinkled at the corner, and he gave her a half smile as he released her. “He is not as bad as he appears. Come. I will take you to him myself.” He offered her his arm. She reached for it timidly as he led her through the group. Everyone gave them a wide berth as they passed.

“Neat trick.” She mused as everyone made way for them.

“Much more dignified than throwing elbows, wouldn’t you say?”

Sigyn blushed with embarrassment, “I am sorry for that. I saw Loki from afar, and I panicked.”

“You have spirit, child. It is refreshing to see.”

Loki was leaning heavily on a fence post when he noticed his father and Sigyn approaching. He straightened up with a wince. Damn, she is beautiful. He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it.

“Thor?”

“Brother?” he was at his side instantly.

Without taking his eyes from Sigyn, still a fair distance away, he said, “Can you find me a priest who will perform the ceremony tonight? I cannot wait another minute to marry her.”

Thor followed his stare and laughed as he looked back at his brother. “You are in no state for anything other than a bath and a good night’s sleep.”

Loki moaned, “Just look at her. Norns…. Pinch me, Brother; I must be dreaming.”

Thor pinched him, none too gently, on his arm.

“Ow! It is just a figure of speech, you oaf,” he spit as he rubbed his bicep.

“Oh, I know," he grinned at him.

“What is she doing out here? And why is she with Father?”

“Your Highnesses.” Sigyn curtsied as she released the King’s arm. “Loki, you are hurt.”

“This? No, I am fine, my sweet. Come here.” He wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her close to his body. He pressed her close with his large hand splayed on her bare back. She ran her hands gently over his face and head and inspected for injuries.

“You are a vision. I missed you so much.” She had no time to respond before he planted a hungry kiss on her mouth. Her eyes widened quickly before she relaxed into his kiss, running her hands through his hair, and grabbing two fistfuls to pull him closer. She could taste ale on his tongue.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Their royal audience forgotten; she arched her back to press her chest into him. He staggered backward, pulling her with him. He grunted at the impact of his back on the fence post.

The commotion of the arriving travelers was drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

Lost.

She felt lost in his kisses. No one else existed. Time and space were mere words with no meaning.

He existed.

He was solid and real, and she held him tightly. He was alive and breathing; she could feel his warmth on her skin. He was hers, and she was his. She kissed him like she might never get a chance to do it again. Running her hands down his chest, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him.

“Ow! Darling, please…”

She was suddenly thrust back into reality: he was hurt. “How bad is it? What happened?” She started franticly tugging the side of his tunic, trying to raise it to see the damage.

“Easy.” Loki stilled her frenzied hands. “Easy, Sweetling.” He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “I am fine.” He grinned at her. “You look downright edible right now.”

“And you look besotted.” She turned her attention to Thor, “Is he drunk?”

“Oh, we all are,” Thor said matter-of-factly, giving her a smile that made his eyes disappear.

“He needs a healer!”

“Dear girl,” she felt the King gently take her elbow and pull her back a step, creating a more appropriate space between the couple. “Trust that we have the matter well in hand. He was treated in the field, and the healer checked on him several times along our journey. We were just on our way to the soul forge to support his diagnosis that he would be back to normal in a week or so.”

“A week or so! We wed in two days!”

Sigyn’s father had made his way over at some point while she was preoccupied, “The ceremony will still proceed as scheduled, pumpkin.”

“It will take more than a couple of scratches to keep me from marrying you, kitten.” He stood upright and snatched her from his father, wrapping his arm around her again.

She tried futilely to wipe her rose-colored lipstick off his face, “I am happy it is not too serious. I was worried sick.”

Loki traced her nose with his own. “A few broken bones, a couple of scratches,” he shrugged his shoulder, “the beast tried to kill me, but I have been imbued with the Godly essence of the Æsir. I will be just fine. Your father most likely would not have survived these injuries.”

“Papa?”

“I am only standing here because Prince Loki saved my life.”

Sigyn sobbed as she looked between her father and her future husband. She threw her arms around Loki’s neck. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.” He ran his nose up the side of her neck and buried it in her hair. Despite the pain it caused him, he inhaled deeply. “By the Norns, Sigyn, you smell so good.”

“Oh, Loki… you just… smell.” She pulled away slightly and wrinkled her nose. Thor fell apart laughing.

Sigyn immediately regretted her words as Loki gave her an evil grin, “Perhaps you should give me a bath, Princess.”

“He is either really brave or really stupid,” Fandral whispered loudly to Thor. Lord Anderson crossed his thick arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you silly prince.” Sigyn laughed nervously as she glanced around, “I am sure your mother is desperate to see you boys. Let us not keep her waiting any longer. Hmm?” She picked up Loki’s hand and rubbed his knuckles. “If you are sure you can walk?”

He kissed her temple, “I can walk, my sweet.” He kissed her knuckles, “You have yet to properly greet your father. You two go on ahead. I will meet you at the top of the stairs.” He placed her hand in her father’s. “I will be along momentarily.”

She nodded and curtsied then walked toward the palace with her father as he told her how Loki came to be injured.

“Are you all right, Son?” the King asked, one hand on Loki’s shoulder.

Loki clutched his side and shook his head, “No. She is just as breathtaking from the back. Norns,” he said as he watched her walk away.

“Right.” The King clapped his hands, “As much as I enjoyed these days away from the palace and spending time with you boys celebrating Loki’s last days of bachelorhood, I am ready for a hot bath and softer company. Let us get out of the mud and horse shit and go get ready for the feast.”

The men loudly agreed and started on their way to the palace and the women waiting ahead, out of the muck.

When he was sure they were out of earshot of the others, Odin looked over to Thor and asked, “Could there perhaps be a young woman waiting patiently for your arrival, son?”

Thor smiled thinly at his father, “If only I were as lucky as my brother. But alas, the Norns did not send me such a gift.”

“Your brother and Sigyn are a unique case. Not all love matches are destined in such a manner, and yet many a happy marriage exists.”

“I know, Father. I can be happy for him and jealous of him simultaneously, can I not?”

“Are you pining for Sigyn?” Odin looked at him, concerned. “Thor, her husband will inherit a very prestigious title. You cannot be King and Warden dually. I could not have given her to you.”

“No, no. Of course not. Please do not misunderstand me. Sigyn is… well, Sigyn is so… I mean, anyone would be a fool not to want to… Norns. I am digging myself a hole here, aren’t I?”

Odin chuckled.

“Sigyn is smart and fun. But that is not why I am jealous of Loki.” The ale in his system made him brave, and he spilled his soul.

“I want someone to look at me like she looks at him. Not just in the lusty way,” he clarified, “I have watched her at dinner, the way she looks at him while he tells her about a trade deadline or when he is getting all worked up about finding more coin in a budget,” he shook his head.

“Sometimes they just sit there and watch each other eat in silence, with these stupid grins on their faces, like it is the best thing in the universe just to be next to each other. I would trade everything for something like that.”

Odin stopped walking and turned to face his eldest son, “You are at an age when a young man’s thoughts turn to marriage and children. If you find yourself in a situation where you could be falling in love, I will ask that you come to me. If the girl is suitable, I would consider your choice.”

Thor stood in stunned silence for a moment. “I would not have to marry for political reasons? I could marry for love?”

Odin held up a finger, “Pending mine and your mother’s approval. The girl must be a good fit for a Queen and willing to produce heirs.”

“Yes, I understand.” Thor smiled broadly, “Thank you, Father.” He bowed deeply.

“You are welcome.” Odin smiled as he clapped him on the arm and led the way to the Queen.

oOXOo

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” Kaarina curtsied.

“Ah, the lovely Kaarina.” Loki kissed her hand, “Sigyn has told me so much about you.”

“Likewise.” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Kaarina is married to one of our childhood friends. Well, technically, my brothers’ childhood friend, but we all spent so much time together. He will be here for the ceremony.”

“I know our whole group will be arriving for the wedding. It will be so nice having the whole gang back together. Well, minus Gunnar and Geir, sadly.” She placed a hand on Sigyn’s arm.

Sigyn forced a smile, “They will be here in spirit. Oh, look. Prince Thor?” She waved Thor over to her. “Please allow me to introduce you to my best friend and Matron of Honor, Kaarina.” Kaarina curtsied.

“Lovely to meet you, Kaarina.” Thor kissed her hand, “Matron? You are far too young and beautiful to be a matron.”

“You flatter me, My Prince.” Kaarina placed her hand on Thor’s arm. Her milky white skin flushed a pretty shade of pink. Thor smiled widely as he took in the sight of her. He was immediately taken by her crystal blue eyes and her shiny blonde locks.

“Tell me, Sigyn, are all your friends so breathtaking?”

“Well, most of my friends are men, so…”

“Sigyn was just telling us how Kaarina here is married to one of their childhood friends.” Loki poked Thor in the ribs with his slung elbow.

“Is that so? Was this a gift from him?” Thor reached over and stroked the silver pendant on her chest just above her cleavage.

“As a matter of fact, it was, Your Highness.” Keeping her head tilted down, she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Do you like it?” 

“It is almost as lovely as you are. Where is your husband? I should like to meet him and tell him what a lucky man he is.”

“He is… delayed.” Kaarina gave him a sweet smile, “He is delayed on business. He should arrive just in time for the wedding ceremony…in two days.”

Thor scoffed, “I cannot imagine what kind of business would be important enough to leave you alone for so long. You must join me on the dais at dinner tonight. I insist. We can trade embarrassing stories about the bride and groom.”

“I would be honored, Your Highness.” Kaarina curtsied.

“Now, if you ladies will excuse us, I must get my brother to the hospital wing.”

“Of course,” Sigyn curtsied.

“I will see you in the feasting hall tonight, kitten. I promise to be clean and smelling sweet.” Loki pressed a kiss to her temple.

She embraced him and whispered into his ear, “What has gotten into your brother?”

“Besides several skins of ale? I am unsure.”

“Sif was staring daggers at us the whole time.”

“Ah, I will find out and report back at dinner. I love you. See you tonight.”

“I love you too. Oh, and Loki? I am truly sorry I cannot give you that bath.” She gave his butt a little pat and sent him on his way.

“What in the Nine was that all about?” Loki asked as he caught up to Thor.

“Just taking a page from your book, Brother.” He smiled and nodded to Sif as he passed her where she was standing with her mother and her returning father. A look of pure fury on her face. “If she wishes to keep me as her dirty little secret, I may as well have some fun with it. You know I would never bed another man’s wife. I am just conducting a little experiment.”

Loki laughed and put his hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Making the Lady Sif jealous? Brother! I did not know you had it in you.”

“I was imitating you. All I had to do was remember how you charm the pants off everyone you meet.” He gave him a sidelong glance, “Literally.”

“Those days are behind me now, Brother.” Loki looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “But while we are on the subject, let me tell you how I escaped from a dungeon on Niflheim after a dare gone wrong.”

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

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XOXO - Rayne 💚

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @smolvenger @trickster-maiden @simone818283 @gruftiela @huntress-artemiss

[beezonia]

A bittersweet meeting

A one piece au gabenath drabble

I love you enemies to lovers to enemies gabenath!

no warnings except for a few swears and a lot of fighting and maybe some weird tension with a bit of gore in some descriptions

——

He hasn’t been here in a long time. By long time he means, about four years ago.

Frostberg Island had been home to many memories for Gabriel, good and bad.

Even sweet and sour ones.

He had his fair share here, all because of her.

Well, all because of them and the stupid decisions they made back when they were younger.

He’s Grand Admiral of the Marines now! Can’t let a stupid pirate get in his way, no because then he’d loose all the glory, all the power.

Gabriel couldn’t loose the power he had! He’d be nothing without it.

God how he hates this island, and the feelings that come with it. But no, he had to persevere Gabriel had an example to set for the recruits, and he was not about to let them down either!

Most of them were covered by various furs or draped in thick fabric to keep out the cold.

Another thing he hated about this island, no real heat just frost and ice everywhere you look.

It was a stark reminder of the woman he loved. God it was perfect for her, she did love winter.

Loved how you could see your breath when it was cold enough, loved how she could skate on the small lake once it had frozen over.

Fuck.

This was going to be harder then Gabriel expected. He was sure his team could tell he was distracted too.

Not a good thing.

Hopefully they didn’t bump into any pirates on the way, that’s not what they were here for.

Not what he himself needed.

———

There’s a mansion on a hill, north of the small town that resides near the docks of Frostberg.

It’s like something you’d see in those old fairytale books she used to read. Menacing but beautiful, it’s architecture a reminder of what was.

That was where the great Captain Heartless resided, where she had lived for a long time now.

The sea no longer called to the captain, her cold heart was set on something even more exciting.

Revenge, sweet revenge.

She would not rest until the fucking admiral’s head was on a stick. It was the least he could do, after all the pain he put her through those years ago.

Yes, the great Nathalie Sancoeur, Heartless, Demon Queen would stop at nothing until he was dead, laying there with his heart sat still by his side.

Nathalie would not rest until Grand Admiral Agreste was dead and buried.

Luckily for her, it seems the time had come.

News had spread like wildfire that the man himself had come to visit Frostberg himself, how wonderful!

She was going to enjoy ripping him to shreds.

“Vincent, I think it’s time we go pay the Grand Admiral a visit”

The man next to her nods, a smirk appears on his face when he realises the thing they’ve been waiting oh so patiently for us about to fall right into their laps.

“Of course my dear, I shall prepare the crew for action.”

Oh how glorious this was going to be!

How satisfied she was going to feel after his head was ripped off those shoulders.

——

He can feel something is going to go wrong. Gabriel doesn’t know why but sometimes he gets a feeling that eyes are watching him as he walks through the town centre.

Which isn’t as busy as it should be in the early afternoon and that strikes him as odd.

Very odd.

Most of the recruits had been wary as they walked past the empty stalls and shops. They had the luxury of innocence still.

Gabriel's commanders knew something was wrong instantly, on guard as soon as they saw how desolate the place was. None of them wanted to die today, and none of them would.

He'd make sure of that.

"She's going to throttle you, you know?!"

Now that's a voice he recognises, Penny Rolling former member of the Rockroll Pirates.

"So she is here then, they were right."

The woman scoffs, Penny pushes through the large crowd of marines to stand by him.

"I'm being serious Gabriel, she's going to kill you! Turn back now."

It's his turn to scoff now, he doesn't need to run if Nathalie is here like Penny said all he needs to do is bring her in and there is no problem.

"As much as I appreciate the help Penny, this wont take long. You can all go back to living peacefully without her tyranny."

Penny rolls her eyes, sighing. It looks like she's given up on trying to convince him. But the annoyance morphs into shock and it gets Gabriel's heart thumping.

"Don't say I didn't warn you Agreste."

She scuttles of as fast as she came, leaving him and the rest of the Marines in some sort of rugged state. Most are anxious, listening to Penny's words must have put them on edge.

"She's right you know. I am going to kill you."

Oh shit.

It's followed by a laugh, a manic one. Oh god, oh fuck what was going to happen now?!

Gabriel lifts his head upwards towards on of the rooftops, and there she stood in all her cold hearted glory.

Nathalie "Demon Queen" Sancoeur, Captain of the Driftwood Devil's who have made Frostberg Island their home.

"It's fucking hilarious how you just walked right on in, didn't stop and think about a murderous pirate did you?!"

He gulps, this exactly what he wanted to avoid. Especially since he was on her home turf.

“Nathalie, I need you to come with me now! Don’t make this harder then it has to be!”

The pirate laughs, over and over the same manic laugh she used when someone had hurt her.

The same laugh when she was down on her knees and bleeding, ribs stuck out of the cage of skin that protected them.

Tears falling but she was still fighting for her life, like it was going to be her last day on earth.

He himself had hurt her and now he was going to pay the price.

“NOW YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ORDER ME AROUND! FUCKING PRICK AREN’T YOU?!”

She jumps forward, flipping and then makes a smooth landing on the cobbled pathway.

There’s an almost animalistic grin on her face, then there’s the knife clasped in her hand.

She was going to kill him.

“Who gave you the right to call me by my first name huh? You dug your grave Agreste, NOW LIE IN IT!”

Nathalie lunges forward, and it’s then he realises he and the rest are outnumbered.

She’s brought her whole crew to overpower him. They charge along side her, proud to fight for their captain.

God she really did think ten steps ahead of everyone.

She was right as always, he’d dug his grave leaving her like that, leaving her alone hurting. But no Gabriel was not going to give up his life just yet.

“No, I’LL KEEP FIGHTING! YOU WONT KILL ME I KNOW YOU WONT!”

Another growl, she dodges his punch, kicking her leg out towards his knees.

Nathalie, she was going to kill him. The woman he used to love, the woman he still somewhat loved even if he did hurt her before.

She was about to stab him in the back.

“Then you really don’t know me anymore, do you? I’ll rip that head of your fucking shoulders if it’s the last thing I’d do.”

———-

It’s done, I hate it but I hope you like it!

[nym-wibbly]

AI, Oh My

I've been using the generative-AI-free Ellipsus for failing at writing for the past few days. Using it to keeping track of notes about the long fanfics I've been sampling to help me write feedback, too. So far I love it to pieces. I love the clean interface. I love that it's in my browser like Google Docs but isn't Google Docs. It's really nice to create text away from that constant push to incorporate generative-AI into the process somehow. Or to click the annoying, distracting thing that sits in the corner of my vision that wants me to pay for an upgrade to some AI feature I didn't want in the first place, and wouldn't save me time or effort if I did. (Grammarly. Just fucking stop and tell me when I use a comma wrong or double a word, okay?)

I did play with AI writing tools while I was ill last year, mainly to pass the time and get up to date with what all the fuss and controversy was about. I squirted a simple 2000-word fanfic I wrote in the 1990s into each one and played to see what the various tools could do with it. Then I tried to get them to generate a similar piece from scratch using prompts. The whole unethical, 'this model was trained on everything we ever put on AO3, wasn't it?' aspect quickly became glaringly apparent once I introduced the subject of fanfiction - or even just asked a factual question about a character from a TV show. (ChatGPT totally 'ships the Thirteenth Doctor with Yaz, a 'ship which must've been at its peak AO3 output when all that data was hoovered up.)

Sudowrite came the closest to being able to do what I need from an automated writing assistant, which is to help me keep track of a long piece by creating and updating a beat sheet and character profiles as I go, or to generate an accurate set of chapter summaries from a giant dollop of existing text. None of these tools can handle a million word epic without going into a death-spiral of confusion and spouting nonsense. None of them can, yet, follow a lengthy or detailed plot well enough to help me re-remember things when I need to. ChatGPT could manage quite large chunks of text for a while in early 2023, then it went downhill fast, started limiting input hard, and started making shit up instead of summarising what text I fed it. I swear to god that thing got incrementally less useful as it got upgraded and as features were added. Nothing else I've tried even felt remotely useful to a writer of fiction, but getting to know the various options did train me to spot and avoid AI-generated articles at two hundred paces, even just from the title or headline much of the time, which has to be a good thing.

I don't want writing done for me, not ever, but if tech can someday help with the remembering-plot-things and keeping-character-things-organised, that would be spiffing. If I could someday rely on it to go, "Whoa, girl, you just contradicted line 23 of chapter 19 with [insert offending text and line number here], at a level of detail that it'd be unreaonable to expect a beta reader to spot in a spread-out WIP, I'd actually pay a lot of money. I want help managing what I write and coping with my cognitive disabilities so I can keep writing stories that are too big for my brain to hold in one dollop. We ain't there yet, but maybe, one day? If we can ever get past the ethics of training the models on other people's data in the first place, and the environmental impact of using these tools at all?

Sudowrite is nowhere near being able to do this for a long story, yet. And the free version is plenty if I just want a quck summary of the story's vibe, tropes, or themes for reference. That I do find useful for clarity, because condensing ideas and summarising fiction is not something I'm good at doing myself. I think Sudowrite might, eventually, be able to help me understand how I write.

So far, so underwhelmed.

[chainsawmanfan]

i am fucking your mom

LEGOLAND

THE ENTERTAINERS PENNY LAMB: A sixteen-year-old, sister of Ezra. EZRA LAMB: A thirteen-year-old, brother of Penny.

PLAYING STYLE Physical. Very physical. But truthful. The acting should be as frenetic and as over-the-top as possible, but with real acting intentions and subtlety. A clock with a soul.

MUSIC The whole play should be underscored, but not with current pop. Instead, past tunesmiths like Elvis, Hank Williams, Berlioz and Beethoven. Ambient music is fine occasionally as background. The soundscape sets the rhythm of their game.

SOUND Q #1 -- Last song preshow. Fade out sound as the house lights come down. Two spotlights, one on PENNY LAMB, the other on her brother EZRA. PENNY is a young woman wearing French braids and a private school uniform; she has a bright smile. Holding a piece of paper, she stands over a music box that plays a sweet, monotonous melody. EZRA, an intense thirteen-year-old, sits cross-legged in a chair, with a neutral expression on his face. He, too, wears a school uniform, plus a black cape, a single white dress glove and Chinese slippers. He has a fixed gaze on one audience member of his choosing, a fixed gaze he maintains practically throughout the proceedings. PENNY: Hello. My name is Penny Lamb, and I am an aspiring animal conservationist.

PENNY slams the music box. There is a flash. The stage exposes a large garbage can full of toys and a makeshift puppet theatre upstage centre made of household miscellanea: flashlight as footlight, a red curtain, etc. At the back of the wall there is a screen for various slides. EZRA should run the show as much as possible. Whatever the layout, it should look like it is designed by two industrious children… including the slides; imagine two children, with a solid year to design a show. PENNY speaks at an incredible speed, being an immensely nervous and self-conscious teenager. She literally trips over her words -- a volcano of passion and eloquence. PENNY: Hello again… (stage left) Welcome. (stage right) Welcome. (centre stage) Welcome… Welcome to my presentation. (reading from her card) This is where I tell you, after two hundred hours of community service, how never to turn out like me. It is my hope that after my hours of community service (looking up) that have culminated in this presentation, (reading) you will all go out and… and well… (looking up) lead fuller, lawfuller lives! (reading) I would like to thank Miss Peachery -- (looking up) my social worker -- (reading) for giving me the ultimatum of doing this presentation… (looking up) or, like, pick up other people’s trash for an entire year on some crummy expressway… (reading of a cure card, at a machine-gun pace) So first off I want to tell people never to shoplift, jaywalk, beat up kids, swear, knock on people’s doors and run away, be mean to overweight people, talk back to your parents. Stop, drop and roll. Never let your uncle touch you in places you feel uncomfortable with -- (looking up) even if it’s, like, your elbow. (looking down) Don’t do drugs -- unless they are prescribed by a licensed practitioner of the psychiatric profession… and stay away from sex, but if you ever get into super sexy stuff… use a condom… Oh… and it’s entirely natural to mastubate… (looking up) but never in a public place. She stops reading. Whew. Well that should cover a lot of ground, considering that’s like every high school play or movie I’ve ever seen in, like… ten seconds flat. And, I didn’t do any of the above mentioned stuff. I’ve taken all of those lessons to heart, and obeyed them. Beat. (fast) However, I did sell and traffic drugs in two countries, and horribly maim this man. This man I truly loved. Beat. Look, I was fifteen then. I was all screwed up… I’m sixteen now.

Beat. I would also like to thank Ezra… for doing all the art direction and putting all the pizazz into this whole stupid thing. Oh, this is my brother Ezra Lamb. Together… we are the Lambs. Say hi-a, Ezra Lamb. PENNY assumes a vaudeville punchline pose. EZRA casually takes of his white glove and throws it on the ground. He walks daintily next to PENNY, taking his time, leading with his feet, still focused on his one audience member. He talks like a nutcracker, breaking up his words. He has an other-worldly voice, and is practically expressionless throughout the proceedings. EZRA: Hi-a, Ezra Lam…… “bu.” EZRA assumes the Vaudeville pose, but with a performance art edge. PENNY: (giggling) That’s a joke… We make those. You can laugh… or not. Beat. EZRA: (with intensity) Hi-a, Ezra Lam… (extremely loud) “BU”! Beat. PENNY: Um, he has ADHD, which means -- EZRA: Attention Deficit Hy-per Act-ive Dis-or-der. PENNY: Which means -- EZRA: Five milligrams of Ritalin, five milligrams of Dex-ahhhh-drine. PENNY: And -- EZRA: I have strong apprehension to the scientific claims of my dis-or-der. PENNY: He’s pretty smart though -- for a thirteen-year-old basket case. Are you going to talk like that through the whole presentation? EZRA: Yes. PENNY: In real life he doesn’t talk like that. EZRA: In real life I don’t exist. Beat.

PENNY: Yes, he does. EZRA: No, I don’t. PENNY: Yes, he does. EZRA: No, I don’t. PENNY: Yes. EZRA: No. PENNY: Yes. EZRA: No. PENNY: Yes. EZRA: No. PENNY: No. EZRA: Yes. PENNY: Ha! EZRA: (defeated) I exist. PENNY: Why don’t you tell us something about yourself, Ezra? SOUND Q #2 -- “Gnossienne.” EZRA exposes a sad-looking doll. He acts out the motions of the little man in the puppet theatre. Eric Satie’s “Gnossienne #1” plays. EZRA: Well… I did read in the paper a while ago… Jeffrey Dahmer, you know that serial killer that killed and ate all those people? Well, he pulled double night shifts in a factory making chocolate Santa Clauses. Did it for years. So I imagine the austere fluorescent lighting, the endless chocolate Santas coming down the conveyor belt, the gloomy faces punching in the clock… The desperate silence of a cog in a forever festive machine… going to work at sunset, to bed at sunrise… This goes on for years… Until finally he falls on his knees going… He makes the puppet fall on his knees.

(in a southern accent, dramatically) I’m going to break. I’m simply gonna’ break. PENNY: Uhh… Okay. So I can explain… we were both home schooled. EZRA: I mean it would drive you -- PENNY: (gritting) Okay, that’s enough about Jeffrey Dahmer! Let me whisk you away to happier times. Play some whisking-away music, Ezra. SOUND Q #3 -- Whisking-away EZRA plays whisking-away music on his ghetto-blaster. SLIDE #1 -- Uranium City. PENNY: Welcome to Uranium City, Saskatchewan! Oh, the sun is out today, I see. We both grew up on the Elysium Community Farm, just outside of Uranium City, which means -- EZRA: A lot of people walking around naked, quoting eastern philosophy, and never shaving their pubes. PENNY: Right, and all the kids there were named Rainbow, Sunshine, Trotsky. Ezra even had a best friend named Noam Chomsky… SkyTrain. We lived on Elysium with our mom Marie-Jose Blanche -- and our dad -- Rudolf. They met at some college waaaaaaaaaaay back in the nineties. He took her in his arms and danced her ass off to “Hungry Eyes,” and they also found that they both thought modern civilization was -- EZRA: A sausage factory, crushing individuals’self-worth, turning them into soulless, neurotic robots. PENNY: Toads. And that got them both real hot! So that very same night, I was conceived. Three years later, Ezra. Lookit, where we grew up? Elysium Community Farm? Everybody was totally into all that happy hippy stuff. You know, sitars, sunshine, philosophy, love, Humanism, ganja weed. We talked and laughed, learned lots… And sometimes at night Ezra would put on super cool puppet shows about German Nihilism. EZRA: The nail that sticks out gets hammered down! EZRA gestures, punching his hands together. PENNY: It went on like this for years, this all-enlightened, home-made living; there was only one drawback… Now, we didn’t want to hurt the good people at Elysium, but there was this crummy rule that kids couldn’t go to Legoland until they were sixteen -- oh, by the way, that’s what they called everything here outside Elysium -- “Legoland.” (She winks)

Fade out sound. PENNY: Okay so lookit! When I got to thirteen… I was getting kind of itchy, you know? To see a world that didn’t consist only of naked, smiling, enlightened hippies… And Ezra… Well, Ezra was getting kind of weird… playing with his little monkey in his room all day. EZRA removes a monkey hand puppet wearing a little bowler. PENNY: Oh, that’s his little monkey, Afenschwanz. EZRA: Afenschwanz in German means monkey dingle. PENNY: Ezra has always been all mad into the Germans. I mean, that Nietzsche guy had a saying for everything! EZRA: The last Christian died on the cross. PENNY: A joke is an epitaph on emotion. EZRA: Without music, the world would be a mistake. PENNY: Ah, that’s my absolute favorite! Without music, the world would be a mistake. Beat. PENNY: Awesome! Nietzsche's so dreamy. So, I got the hankering to go to Legoland… more specifically, Uranium City. I knew kind of what to expect, because I read a book called Anne of Green Gables. I mean, sure the whole town would be weirded out by our precocious mannerisms at first. But after a while we’d all be embraced by these nice people… Banker Mudge… Farmer Pete… Baker Jones. Oh, and little Gilbert, my high school sweetheart who -- EZRA: When we got to Wal-Mart, it wasn’t anything like that… EZRA & PENNY: Wal-Mart! SOUND Q #4 -- Wal-Mart. PENNY: … A big old slab of bright blue and concrete… plastered with yellow smiley faces. Cars spilling in and out. EZRA: An endless line of people coming and going. PENNY: Looking down at their feet, holding their bags. The only ones smiling are the people that work there.

EZRA & PENNY: Crazy jack-o’-lantern smiles! PENNY: Thousands of magazines of famous people in tons of make-up, telling you that without all their make-up, they’d look just like you. EZRA: And without all their fame… EZRA & PENNY: They’d act just like you! Fade out sound. PENNY: Anyway… Wal-Mart was super awesome… But… everyone was all busy… Now, we tried our darndest to strike up friendly chats with people in Wal-Mart… But it was strange; if you talked to people they acted like you were touching your dingle in front of them. We snuck out several times, but no matter what we did, no one talked to us! So that’s when we came up with this… Jeez, it was such a stupid idea.. I was thirteen then… So we… EZRA falls down on the ground and starts convulsing. PENNY: (mechanically) Oh my God! That little boy is having a seizure. We have to get him on his stomach so he doesn’t swallow his tongue! EZRA jiggles around. PENNY shakes him several times. He revives. EZRA: (coached) Thank you, I would have been a goner if it weren’t for the collective need I sensed in all of you for my survival. PENNY: So, Ezra started faking seizures in the Wal-Mart, and I’d pretend to revive him. And now -- I know, I know, I know! … it is not socially acceptable to simulate human catastrophe in order to strike up a conversation. But I have to say, when people think you’re on the brink of death… Well… they can be really super awesome! The whole crowd of people would break out into applause, old ladies’ mascara would run from tears of joy, families would cry out, “Oh, thank God he’s all right! Oh, thank God that little boy is all right!” You see, every time Ezra had one of his spaz attacks, there was real love in the Wal-Mart… It wasn’t just a place to get cheap junk anymore… No! It was a community. So, we did it a couple of times -- EZRA: Thirty-six times. PENNY: Thirty-six times… and after a while, the manager got wise… and, well, he called the police… and they drove us home. And that’s when… Well, that’s when… all that trouble happened… SOUND Q #5 -- Hippy

Beat. EZRA is in the puppet theatre acting out the drug bust with toys. PENNY: As it turned out… Elysium was the largest fricking organic pot farm in the Prairies! … The constable got on his CB… before you knew it, all of Elysium looked like a cheesy action film. All the parents were rounded up in paddy wagons… The next day we all made national news. All these pictures of us Elysian kids looking all doe-eyed… And I know it’s bad to feel bad for people who’ve violated the sacred sanctity of like… Never. Getting. High… but the parents on Elysium, our parents, my parents… they loved us and taught us kids a lot of cool stuff like, how to make… Fade out sound over fifteen seconds. EZRA: Non-toxic forms of penicillin. PENNY: The fundamentals of chemistry, agriculture, astronomy -- and every Sunday the kids would have the humanistic talent show -- where everyone came in first! We were really kind of… amazingly happy. Beat. PENNY: Anyway, after my folks got fifteen for cultivation and trafficking of narcotics… we were sent to a boarding school… First day. Teacher pulls me up in front of the class. SOUND Q #6 -- School bell. Sound plays out. Beat. PENNY: The instant I see the boys staring at me like gaping fish with their heads cut off… and the girls looking at me with those Queen of England smiles… Oh, little Penny wasn’t in Kansas anymore… Uh-uh… I was sent to the charred black bowels of everlasting Hell! Beat. PENNY: (brightly) But all the teachers liked to call it -- EZRA & PENNY: Saint Cassian Catholic School! SOUND Q #7 -- Thunder and religious music. EZRA: The actual Saint Cassian was lynched by his students, pinned down and brutally stabbed in the throat with their styli.

PENNY & EZRA: How perfect! PENNY: Saint Cassian, a blend of everything insane in both science and religion. EZRA: Jesus without love. PENNY: Science with no reason. And I was given the dubious distinction of being branded the high school -- EZRA & PENNY: LESBIAN! Sound fades out. PENNY: Everything I did was wrong. My hair, how I talked, what I loved, liked, listened to! Boys writing “Dyke” on my locker with indelible Jiffy-marker. Being pushed down stairs, pushed up stairs, pushed to the side of stairs, soon avoiding stairs all together -- which made it very difficult, because my locker and most of my classes were on the second floor! Girls going up to me all, like -- EZRA pops up in the puppet theatre with three Barbies, all speaking in EZRA’s voice; he attempts very little characterization, still giving his flat delivery. EZRA: (Barbies) Penny, me and the girls were wondering, are you, like, some kind of lesbian? PENNY: I don’t… How many kinds are there? … What… is a lesbian like? EZRA: (Barbies) Like you! Tee-hee, tee-hee. EZRA and the Barbies giggle. PENNY: Ohh, their laughter! Like a pack of bleached-blond, screeching banshees! And in class, in class, it was actually worse! I mean, I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to actually know anything in school! EZRA: (as the teacher) So, class, in Lord of the Flies, what is William Golding trying to express? PENNY, in a chair, puts her hand up excitedly. PENNY: Uh… The Lord of the Flies. So these children are on an island without parents, right? And they revert to a Darwinian state, where savage conformity rules, the intelligent, the spiritual, the moral. Picked off… one by one! Crushed under rocks! Stuck like pigs! EZRA: (as the teacher) Penny, we’re Catholics, we don’t believe in Darwin! (Barbies) Ha, ha, ha, not only is Penny a lesbian, she’s a feminist lesbian! PENNY: Well, who’s ever heard of a misogynist lesbian.

EZRA: (as the teacher) Penny, stop using big words. PENNY: Big words? This is an English class! Wh-wh-what big words? EZRA: (as the teacher) Words, like “conformity” and “intelligence.” (Barbies) All we want to do is, like -- read? … books? PENNY: (powerfully) Read?! The only things you beepin’ hussies like to read are your pregnancy tests! EZRA: (as the teacher) Penny! Get out of my classroom! Take your wicked keister down to (EZRA’s voice) Dr. Prattle’s office! PENNY: Dr. Prattle, the Catholic psychiatrist! EZRA & PENNY: Jesus, Freud and pills. EZRA: Now, there’s a bitter cocktail! PENNY: I got to Dr. Prattle’s office -- wham, bam, thank you ma’am. I was now the proud owner of a brand new -- EZRA & PENNY: Neurological disorder! Fade out sound. PENNY: Bipolar! Manic depressive… Survey says! SLIDE #2 -- Pill. EZRA: Five milligrams of Paxil two times a day! PENNY: And Ezra was soon sent to the good doctor, too. EZRA: It was after my science presentation. SOUND Q #8 -- Masterpiece Theater. SLIDE #3 -- Syphilis. Masterpiece Theater theme plays. A slide comes up reading, “The Syphilis Hall of Fame,” with pictures of several philosophers.

EZRA: The Syphilis Hall of Fame. Nietzsche, Shakespeare, Voltaire… Question: What made these the great thinkers they are today? … Answer: syphilis. Fade out sound. PENNY: That’s when Ezra was diagnosed with severe -- EZRA: ADHD. Five milligrams of Ritalin, five milligrams of Dexedrine. PENNY: Anyway, there we were -- doped up to the gills -- in Hell. Well, I was. Ezra was kind of -- EZRA: (proudly) Sold my meds to teenagers and college kids. Ten bucks a throw. PENNY: Kids on the street called him “lil’ E-Z,” as it -- EZRA: One “Lamb,” and you can take it EEEE-ZEE. For two E-Z payments of five dollars you get high as a kite, sharp as a tack, get wiggedy wiggedy wack, or your money back. PENNY: He had a massive eighteen-year-old football player named Todd on salary, EZRA: He was always coming up short, skimming the product. (blurts with passion, yet without tension in his voice) Fucking junkies! PENNY: EZRA GINSBERG MARTIN LUTHER WOODY GUTHRIE LAMB! … This is a theatre… you can’t say the F-word unless you’re pretending to be poor! Anyway, lil’ E-Z was making a go at his whole drug syndicate thingy… And I was kind of… well… Beat. PENNY: Like, sleeping in my room all day… tearing my hair and throwing up, kind of suicidal and depressed and everything… So, one day a bunch of girls were setting fire to my school bag -- second time that week -- and I wasn’t even crying anymore… because, you get to a point… when you’re waaaay beyond crying. Beat. PENNY: “Not waving but drowning.” Stevie Smith. “This is my life… Whoomp (There It Is).” Tag Team. Beat. PENNY: But then! … Tammy Edwards sat down next to me and, like… took Christian pity. EZRA: Tinky winky tinky winky tinky winky tink.

SOUND Q #9 -- Harp. PENNY: … Tammy was the only one in that crummy crack house Catholic school, I think, who actually believed in Jesus. So, she was all, like… into shaking hands with lepers -- or lesbians, as the case may be. EZRA enters in a tutu, spinning around fairy godmother-like. EZRA: (as Tammy) Look… the other kids make fun of you because you don’t wear, see or listen to anything cool. PENNY: … But… how do I become cool? EZRA: Only the Lord knoweth what is truly cool… Take this CD. If you listen to this -- all is forgiven. EZRA hands her a CD. Fade out sound. PENNY: I ran to my room. I put the CD in my player. Then… Ohhh, then… SOUND Q #10 -- Classical. She starts to hyperventilate, the crescendo of Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus plays. PENNY: Ohhh, my ears were lavished with a rhapsody of pure bliss. Musical ecstasy, I believe akin to the ascent of one’s soul rising towards the heavenly spheres! I was bathed in the melody of God and all His angels and cherubs. For at that instant I experienced rapture, only felt before by the likes of naked hermits in the desert. For it was that golden day I first heard… the boy band… Fade out sound. EZRA & PENNY: Seven Up! SOUND Q #11 -- Xanadu. SLIDE #4 -- Seven Up. Slide comes up of a boy band named Seven Up… They are next to a gas station, wearing singlets and jeans, looking all sexy and bad-ass. PENNY: Seven Up was founded in Orlando, Florida, after an international American talent search. The goal was to put five of the most talented men in a sound studio, with various composers, a choreographer, a designer --

EZRA: A chartered accountant. PENNY: And see what happened. Well, I’ll tell you what happened, people! … Seven Up! Fade out sound. PENNY: Seven Up consists of five members. There is Johnny Moon (trembles)… and four other guys: Sammy Thorndike, the preppy; Billy Benton, the jock; Tony Capelli, the bad boy; and Juan Carlito Ramirez… the… they only ever described him as the Spanish guy. Now, a lot of kids make fun of the fact that Seven Up only has five members… when the name Seven Up would lead one to assume they had -- I dunno -- seven members? EZRA: There are seven deadly sins: sloth, gluttony, envy, lechery, avarice, pride and wrath -- they encapsulate them all nicely. PENNY: And last, but definitely not least… Drum roll, Ez’! EZRA sputters his lips. SLIDE #5 -- Johnny on the Moon. SOUND Q #12 -- “Flower Duet.” Slide of Johnny Moon shoots up. The choral part of Delibes’s “Flower Duet” plays. PENNY: Ohhhhhh, Johhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnny Moon! Beat. PENNY stares at the picture for a long time, suddenly breaking into a dance. Drawn to the slide, she embraces it, to EZRA’s increased agitation. EZRA: (barking) RUFF RUFF! Fade out sound. PENNY: Everyone loves them, everyone, even Ezra, loves them! EZRA: Henry Ford created the assembly line, creating mass production, creating mass-marketed messiahs on crosses of Velcro… Seven Up: manufactured, soulless, hip-gyrating robots… hence, the true troubadours of globalization! Beat. PENNY: You see, Ezra loves them! So there I was in my room, listening to their debut track, “Sincerely Yours”… “For if my life is a love letter, that letter is yours, the end being signed… ‘Sincerely Yours.’”…

Okay, the first time I heard that song? … My heart’s getting all giddy and floody bloody right now… (to herself) Chill, Penny. Chill. (to the audience) I wish I could just sing you the song, but I can’t on account of my shrink… and the restraining order… I mean, how do you explain music. (EZRA produces a ukulele, hands it to PENNY.) Well, okay, lookit I did write this song… a song I composed after I heard “Sincerely Yours”… I play an instrument, this is my axe Shaneekwa. Okay, so here goes… (She plays the ukulele.) (singing) Every twenty-four hours or so, The earth it spins around, One part day, one part night, Depending where you’re standing on the ground. And in between the turning, Babies walking, talking, lesson learning, there might come one day when you resolve, (talking) What’s the point, we all die, and all love dissolves But then I hear you singing, (singing) No matter where you roam, You are not alone, All through history, Walking hand in hand in misery (talking) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before, but I feel we’ve met a hundred times in the republic of my dreams. I don’t want to freak you out of anything, but before your music… I thought I was destined to die alone… you know, to be one of those people that you read about in the papers that people only realize are dead because their bodies start to stink. But you restored my faith through your genius… I don’t just hear the most kick-ass awesome pop music ever… in your music, I can see history -- like, eternity -- and my place in it. For in your voice, I understand I am a note, in a bar, in a movement, of a song, of a symphony of music! A symphony that builds to an orgasmic, rapturous crescendo. A state of bliss so overbearing it literally hurts! Building, building, BUILDING, BUILDING, BUILDING, BUUUUUUUUUILDIIIIIIIIIING! … (singing) No matter where you roam, You are not alone, All throughout history, Walking hand in hand in misery And that’s the closest I can explain how I felt when I heard Johnny Moon sing “Sincerely Yours” for the first time. (unenthusiastic as hell) Oh… and Tony Capellu raps a little on it… Something like, “Champagne in the brain in Spain,” which was good… ish. ANYWAY, the band proved crazy prolific, producing over three short years a staggering hundred and sixty-eight albums, and that’s not even including their holiday albums -- Christmas, Easter, President’s Day -- EZRA: Ramadan.

PENNY: You couldn’t even swing a cat without hitting a Seven Up song. Radio, TV, internet chat rooms, key chains, T-shirts. I had finally tapped into something everyone liked. I was finally cool -- for, like, two seconds! EZRA: (pulling out the Barbies in the puppet theatre) Seven Up is so five minutes ago! All their songs sound like they were written by a retarded child on a Tilt-A-Whirl… the only ones who listen to them are, like, zit-faced Twinkies and -- PENNY: Lesbians, you were going to say. Lesbians, right? (The Barbies cackle.) Tee-hee, tee-hee. PENNY: The critical mass had turned on Seven Up, like a pack of Pharisees. SOUND Q #13 -- Tchaikovsky’s “Russian Dance.” PENNY: An angry toothless mob howling for their death! And all who believed in the universal message of “Love” were branded with the mark of Cain! Kids breaking into my room, writing little thought bubbles on my Johnny Moon posters saying, “I like it up the bum-bum” and “I like to suck pee-pee”! Only they didn’t write “pee-pee” or “bum-bum”! Johnny! Poor Johnny. A living walking set-up for an endless series of punchlines. Seven Up stuck together as long as they could -- soon doing only concerts in Eastern Europe. But then… tragedy struck. Billy Benton was swarmed by an angry throng of pre-teens in Moscow for his three-hundred-dollar tennis shoes -- dragged to the centre of Red Square -- and ripped apart like a chicken cutlet… Fade out sound. PENNY: After the funeral, the band broke up. Johnny tried to keep his dignity, but soon found himself… making celebrity testimonials in infomercials, singing songs about Viagra and vacuum cleaner nozzles.. then whoosh, he vanished! I wrote him a few times. EZRA: Three thousand, five hundred and sixty-seven times. PENNY: Right. And one day he sent me a real letter… and actual letter. Ezra! SOUND Q #14 -- Johnny’s letter. EZRA: (as Johnny) Dear Penny, thank you for being my greatest fan, my most loyal fan. In fact, these days, my only fan… Always keep the faith, girl… Sincerely yours, Johnny Moon-moon-moon… Headshot enclosed-closed-closed-closed. Beat.

PENNY pulls out his headshot and kisses it, on the verge of tears. PENNY: But then, then! After a painful year, feeling half-dead, I come across a small little ad in a crummy magazine… “Johnny Moon’s New Solo Album, soon to be released in an HMV near you!” A solo album? … A solo album?! A solo album! I wait two painstaking months! The day before his new release, I stayed up all night -- by the record store -- I wanted to be the first to hear his new magnum opus. Fade out sound. PENNY: I run into the record store, grab the CD and without looking I run home and throw it in my CD player! I throw on the first track… every cilium in my ears is taut with anticipation of Johnny’s unfettered muse breaking forth in all her glory! SOUND Q #15 -- Ezra’s rap. A haunting rap beat plays. EZRA enters with a microphone. He raps rhythmically -- but without any characterization of an actual rapper. EZRA: (toasting) Yo! Yo! This is JK-47, Been dope since 9/11 Yo, I’z gotz something to say that’s real rich, So listen up, bee-yotch. (rapping) So you’re looking at me, ya sucka’ MC? You wanna come at me like you’re fucking Bruce Lee? When you’re this big, bee-yotch, they call ya mistah, And if you don’t believe me, go and ask your sistah, If she’s not home I know another, Here’s a quarter, little bitch, go and call your mother, Yo! I got style, I gotz the grace, I go out with the ladies and I punch ‘em in the face, So rip off your panties, take off your bra, Tonight I’m going to fuck you wit’ my chainsaw. … Fuck you wit’ my chainsaw, fuck you wit’ my chainsaw, fuck you wit’ my chainsaw -- PENNY screams. Cut out sound. PENNY: (screaming) Urrgh! I can’t take it! ENOUGH! STOP! (trembling) Johnny’s Moon was now eclipsed… In his solo effort, sweet, loving Johnny had morphed into… EZRA & PENNY: JK-47! SOUND Q #16 -- JK-47 underbeat.

Sound plays out or fades. SLIDES #6 to #10 -- JK-47 (five slides of JK-47 in various gangsta poses). PENNY: (shaking) JK-47, a frat boy puking up solid black venomous bile, rubbing his dingle like it was his lucky rabbit’s foot. His new album called The 6 B’s! stood for booze, bluntz, the name for a female dog, the bling-bling and… no one knows what the last B stands for. I dunno? Band-Aids? Bosnia?! I listened to all twenty-six unrelenting tracks, with the relish of a Rabbi being force-fed a hotdog. Well it appeared little mister-potty-mouth had come up a long way from singing with a Sea Cow about “Eating your Broccoli.” And, of course, talking about his days growing up in the ‘hood. Yes -- his days in the mean old ‘hood. In -- Portland, OREGON! But I had faith this was a blip, a glitch, no one would actually subject themselves to this musical rape! … It wouldn’t sell, the critics would tear him apart, his fans would turn on him, he would -- EZRA: “Fuck You Wit’ My Chainsaw” became bigger than “Macarena,” “Who Let The Dogs Out” and “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” combined. PENNY: Every critic was heralding JK-47 as the Bob Dylan of our generation. Oh, I can see the comparison -- “The Times They Are A-Changin’” to “F’You Wit’ My Chainsaw.” EZRA: (as a critic, in the puppet booth) Five stars out of five. JK-47 is the real thing. He’s angry, he’s white and he just doesn’t give a fuck! PENNY: EZRA! “FUDGE,” NOT F-MM-UCK! EZRA: I just gangster rapped about copulating with a power tool. PENNY: Fine! And that… song! It was everywhere! Action figures of JK-47 and his ex-girl, Sandy… with a detachable head! OH SANDY came with many novel accessories a gal can’t be without these days -- a toe-tag and a fake suicide note for the cops! T-shirts! Pepsi cans! Even our own priest -- a man who referred to sex as “the Devil’s pilates” -- was now quoting the song liberally! And all the girls at that crummy school were all loving Johnny again! Of course! (to the audience) So all those domeless wonder girls are all, like -- EZRA: (Barbies, in the puppet theatre) Hey, Pen’, you still like JK-47? He’s so dreamy. PENNY: Yeah, you’d have a swell date with him, maybe he’d bring his chainsaw. EZRA: (Barbies) He’s being ironical. Gawd, you’re such a lesbian femi-Nazi. PENNY: Listen to me, Jezebels! You wouldn’t know irony if it crawled up your ass to start a soup kitchen -- to feed its three starving friends -- Wit! Integrity! and Intelligence! (to the audience) I was suspended

for saying the word “ass” -- Now, I lie in my room, glaring at the newspaper. I bought every newspaper I could find with JK-47. I couldn’t look away. It was a train wreck… Beat. PENNY: Anyway, I pick up and read the letter Johnny wrote me -- when he wasn’t the anti-Johnny… Blinded with tears, I can scarcely see, and I drop the letter. The letter lands on a paper from the Orlando Sentinel… announcing a CD-signing in JK-47’s new chain of nightclubs, (murmuring) the Bitch Slap… I look at it… Beat. PENNY: Of course! I love this man, I believe in this man, I have faith in this man! I adore this man! I didn’t want to go to Orlando! I just had to go… So I came up with this plan; Ezra, had some drug money… Johnny’s favorite coffee is a special blend, named after him. It’s called the Moonbeam, and only sold at the Space Needle in Seattle, Washington. EZRA & PENNY: The Moonbeam! A no-fat double latte -- EZRA: A thrilling mixture of Zapatista Dark Roast… PENNY: Castro Morning Blend… EZRA: Che Guevara Decaf, and the secret ingredient not disclosed -- EZRA & PENNY: On pain of death! PENNY: I would get his coffee… bring it to him -- and he would have no choice but to hear me out! I would go all the way to Johnny’s CD-signing at (mumbling) the Bitch Slap in Orlando… We had a week to get there by bus, and eight hundred and seventy dollars! EZRA: Several vials of Ritalin and Dexedrine. PENNY: By sundown we were on our way to the land of liberty -- SOUND Q #17 -- “Star-Spangled Banner.” EZRA: Silicone breasts and fundamentalists. EZRA & PENNY: Otherwise known as the USA! Sound fades out. PENNY: We took the bus. Ez’ wouldn’t fly with an American terror alert at level Ernie.

EZRA: The American Homeland Security Advisory System, for potential travelers to the USA. SLIDE #11 -- Homeland Security EZRA: Levels of terror, in order of safe to deadly, SOUND Q #18 -- Homeland Security Sound plays out. EZRA: Oscar the Grouch, you can slouch; Cookie Monster, do not stir; Bert, be very pert; Ernie, pack a gurney… Lastly, Tickle Me Elmo, take a bow, chump, it’s time to go… PENNY: Ez’ won’t fly at any terror rating higher than a Cookie Monster. Anyway! We board a Greyhound for our cross-country pilgrimage! I am giddy with the anticipation… Wondering… Would I, like Kerouac, find the true spirit of this American land? … We arrive at the -- EZRA & PENNY: United States border crossing! PENNY: Now the nice customs officer -- EZRA: A total jingoistic bastard. PENNY: Well, he wanted to know why two young people were traveling without the accompaniment of a parental unit, he went up to Ezra and said, (in customs voice, holding a He-Man action figure) “Aren’t you two a little bit young to be traveling by yourselves?” EZRA: (to PENNY) I’ll handle this… (to customs of icer) Hello, my good man, excellent work you’re doing keeping the Hun at bay. This is for you. EZRA slips some money in PENNY’s hand. PENNY: I don’t take bribes -- and besides, that’s only a Loonie. Look, son, where are your parents? EZRA: Well, if you really must know… (crying) SOUND Q #19 -- Sentimental music. EZRA: This is very hard to speak about, you understand -- tragic really -- they were taking a cruise to Israel… when… the ship was seized… they were both tortured and killed by agents of the… Al-Qaeda… Penny wants to light a candle in Salt Lake City… You see, we’re devout Mormons. My father always said he’d rather be a pile of ashes in America than alive anywhere else in the world. Daddy…

Sound fades out. SOUND Q #20 -- “American Woman.” Sound fades out. EZRA & PENNY: Seattle, Washington. The Evergreen State. PENNY: Thirty-one endangered species, including the Grizzly Bear. SLIDE #12 -- Homeland Security EZRA: Terror alert has sunk to a balmy Cookie Monster. PENNY: We get off the bus, and I run to the Space Needle; with money in hand, I ask for a pound of the Moonbeam. It cost a bit. EZRA: A hundred and twenty dollars. PENNY: But well worth it for its rich aromatic blend of famous Latin American revolutionaries. I wondered what the secret ingredient is. Well, after the coffee… well, we kind of already spent our money, so we started -- EZRA: Hustling my medication for dead presidents. PENNY: We just went up to people, struck up conversations, and Ezra’s concentration pills sold like hotcakes… By the end of the day we had enough money for two bus tickets and a meal at McDonald’s! EZRA & PENNY: Ohhhh, McDonald’s! PENNY: You see, we kids at Elysium never, I mean ever, got to go to the “McDonald’s,” that was like a cardinal sin. Eating at McDonald’s was like -- EZRA: Drinking your grandfather’s semen. PENNY: Ugh, Ez’… Okay, gross. Gross! SLIDE #13 -- McDonald’s. A slide comes up of PENNY and EZRA standing outside McDonald’s. PENNY: So we actually got to go to the Golden Arches for the first time! Anyway, it was super awesome. The music! The sights! The sounds! We hadn’t even had anything like a Pepsi before. Now, I’m a pescetarian -- which means I only eat fish; even though I feel bad for them, I can’t relate to them at all. So

I had the Filet-O-Fish and Ezra got the Chicken McNuggets Happy Meal. We never had Happy Meals before; they’re super awesome! EZRA: They made me… happy. PENNY: They came with free toys! Free cross-promotional toys! EZRA: I got Action Man on a snowmobile. PENNY: I got Rapping Rock ‘n’ Roll Barbie. Seattle rules! We waved goodbye to the Space Needle and all the good people we dealt concentration pills to and boarded the Greyhound. Dance transition. SOUND Q #21 -- LA. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Los Angeles, California! The Golden State! PENNY: One hundred and eleven endangered species, including the Kangaroo Rat. SLIDE #14 - Homeland Security. EZRA: Terror alert miraculously drops to lovely Oscar the Grouch! PENNY: A whopping one hundred milligrams of Ritalin and Dexedrine. EZRA & PENNY: We go to McDonald’s for Happy Meals. SLIDE #15 -- McDonald’s. PENNY: I get Hollywood Hair Barbie. EZRA: I get a Fry Guy in a fire truck. It amused me. He laughs for the first time in the entire play, a stifled unnatural laugh. PENNY: We say goodbye to all the famous people in LA and board the Greyhound. Dance transition. SOUND Q #22 -- Las Vegas.

Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Las Vegas, Nevada! The Silver State! PENNY: There are twenty-six endangered species, including the Virgin River Chub. SLIDE #16 -- Homeland Security. EZRA & PENNY: Two hundred milligrams of Ritalin and Dexedrine. PENNY: We go to McDonald’s. Get Happy Meals. SLIDE #17 -- McDonald’s. PENNY: I get Babe the Pig. I ask if I can get a toy that isn’t actually on the menu. EZRA: I get a condom. SOUND Q #23 -- Utah. Dance transition. Restore. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Salt Lake City, Utah. PENNY: Mormon central. EZRA & PENNY: (danger trill) Dun-dun-daaaaaa! Ten-second pause, as the kids freeze in pose. PENNY: Mormons are creepy. Twenty-one endangered species, including the Utah Valvata Snail. SLIDE #18 -- Homeland Security. EZRA: Due to a scandal in Washington, terror alert rises to a freezing Bert. PENNY: No concentration pills are sold. SLIDE #19 -- McDonald’s. EZRA & PENNY: We both get Mormon pamphlets in our Happy Meals.

EZRA: Making me extremely un-happy. In fact, downright fuck -- SOUND Q #24 -- Texas. Dance transition. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: San Antonio, Texas! The Lone Star State! PENNY: Twenty-eight endangered species, including the Helotes Mold Beetle. SLIDE #20 -- Homeland Security. EZRA: The Terror has begun. TICKLE ME ELMO’S REIGN OF NATIONAL TERROR HAS NOW BEGUN! EZRA & PENNY: Ten milligrams of Ritalin. PENNY: We go to McDonald’s. Get Happy Meals. I get Cool Country Barbie. EZRA: I got a junior membership to the NRA. SOUND Q #25 -- Alabama. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Montgomery, Alabama! Yellowhammer State! PENNY: There are eighty-eight endangered species, including the Cumberland Monkeyface. SLIDE #21 -- Homeland Security. EZRA: Ugh! To be in Alabama while Elmo’s red furry paw has the country by the nuts. PENNY: I get a crushed beer can. EZRA: I get a Jim Crow Let’s Go A-lynchin’ Kit. SOUND Q #26 -- Florida. Dance transition. Sound plays out.

EZRA & PENNY: Orlando, Florida! The Sunshine State! AT LAST! ANNNNNNND JAZZ HANDS! They do jazz hands. PENNY: There are fifty-six endangered species, including the Choctawhatchee Beach Mouse. EZRA: And American-style democracy. PENNY: Well, we were pretty stinky, having been on the bus for seven days. I wanted to get to a Howard Johnson for a bath, a nap and some other food. Any food other than McDonald’s. EZRA: I was developing the first stages of scurvy. PENNY: When we get to the room I take a shower. I plop into the bed, but I can’t sleep! So I get my Sincerely Yours CD… and then we walk down to the local Starbucks and pay them twenty dollars to make the Moonbeam. We leave with a steaming batch of the brew in our ultra-seal Thermos -- that way it will remain hot for up to twelve hours. EZRA: Steaming, boiling, piping-hot Moonbeam. Remember that. PENNY: We arrive in line at the (murmuring) Bitch Slap. There is a line-up like -- EZRA: A sparkly line of white suburban boys in baseball caps and squishy shoes. PENNY: Oh BOY! All these guys are going to be in for a big surprise after I get to him. I wait for three hours in line, with the patience of a sphinx. EZRA pulls out a baby doll in a bonnet, who represents the bouncer. EZRA: (in home-boy, with puppet) Yo! You got any ID? PENNY: ID? EZRA: (home-boy baby) You need ta’ be twenty-one to get into the Bitch Slap. PENNY: But… I’ve come… all the way from Uranium City, Saskatchewan. EZRA: (baby) Don’t madder to me. No ID, no entry. Ged’ away from the door, bitch! (to PENNY) Let me handle this. EZRA falls down on the ground and has a seizure.

PENNY: (mechanically) Oh my God! That little boy is having a seizure! We must get him on his stomach before he swallows his tongue… (to the audience) The bouncer goes to Ezra. I sneak into the (murmuring) Bitch Slap. SOUND Q #27 -- Club beat. EZRA gets up and begins arranging his human size puppet in a chair. The puppet resembles JK-47, all macked out with a tennis hat cocked to one side and gold chains. The puppet should be revolting-looking, like a corpse with decaying flesh. On its shoulder EZRA places his monkey puppet, who acts as D-Dawg. PENNY: Strobe lights are flashing. It’s covered with a throng of pimple-faced scowling white kids in parkas, looking down at their feet, grabbing their dingles through their oversized jeans. I’ve never been to a bathhouse before, but this certainly feels like one. There is a short line leading to a solid white desk. I can hear Johnny’s voice, his real, live flesh-and-blood voice! She turns. PENNY: I see him! … Look, girls, he’s even dreamier in person! He’s sitting in his chair scowling as he signs CDs, without looking up. I recognize his sidekick from his new album, D-Dawg, As I walk up to him, my legs buckle. I feel as if I could tell him everything and nothing at the same time. Yet the moment I see his blue eyes look into mine, I know this is going to go just swell. PENNY proudly walks up to JK-47 holding her Thermos. She is nervous and smiling. She slides her Sincerely Yours CD onto his desk. She plays the rest of the scene to the audience, as though she is facing JK-47. PENNY: (really fast) Hello, I’m Penny Lamb, your greatest, greatest fan. Oh God! I feel like I have so much to say to you, I could explode… Would you believe I’ve come all the way from Uranium City, Saskatchewan to see you -- that’s in Canada -- and, no, I don’t have a dogsled -- bad joke -- I’m so nervous -- I was homeschooled -- I mean until they sent me to this school where everyone called me a lesbian. Anyway, along the way I picked up something very special. Mr. Johnny Moon, in this airtight Thermos is your… Moonbeam. Taa-daa! Yes, your favorite drink, brought alllll the way here to you, for you, by me. With the secret ingredient that cannot be revealed on pain of death. A gift from me… to you. For the gift you gave me. For because of you, I know something about true love. Look, I don’t believe in good and evil -- I think believing you are, like, an evil, rotten little dude in a black hat who thinks he’s so darn good that he can, I dunno, blow people up? -- But I do believe in love and hate. There are two roads to go down, Johnny… There is the Lover Lane, or the Super Hate Highway. I fear -- because the world’s been so heartless to you -- you’ve gone down the latter. Beat. PENNY smiles at the puppet. The puppet begins shaking its head.

EZRA: (manipulating JK-47) Get this bee-yotch out’ here ‘for I smack this crazy-ass ho. PENNY: Wh-wha… What?! EZRA: (JK-47) Yo’z heard me, bee-yotch, I got no time for no shiznit from no corny-ass teeny boppahs. I’m JK-47! (referring to a character of stage) T-Bone! Get this ho out of hee-rah. (EZRA manipulates the monkey puppet as D-Dawg, who has a high voice.) Yah, he don’t got time for you, he’s JK-47. T-Bone, T-Bone! PENNY: B-b-b-but I brought you a coffee all the way from the Space Needle. EZRA: Yo, Skeezah, I gotz a closet full of that shyyit. I’m JK-47! T-Bone! (monkey puppet) He’s JK-47! T-Bone! T-BONE! T-BONE! PENNY: Yes, but… it… doesn’t have the secret ingredient… It couldn’t! They’d kill whoever leaked it. EZRA: (JK-47) Bitch, it’s cinnamon! Even D-Dawg know that, and he’s a crackhead. Boo-ya! I’m JK-47! T-BONE! PENNY: Cinnamon… I-I-I-I’ve traveled all that way… for cinnamon. EZRA: (monkey puppet) It’s cimamin, even I know that, and I’m a crackhead. It’s cimamin. T-BONE! T-BONE! Beat. PENNY begins to cry. EZRA: (JK-47) What? You g’wan cry… little skank. Smack you up, beee-yotch, ‘cause I’m -- PENNY: JK-47! YES! I BELIEVE THAT’S BEEN (containing) established. She pulls out her letter. PENNY: Just -- here, I haven’t read you my letter yet. It’s really quick. (reading) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before, but I feel we’ve met a hundred times in the republic of my -- EZRA: (monkey puppet) T-Bone! T-Bone! PENNY: (to the audience) T-BONE finally enters, all 350 pounds of him! I can hear his footfalls over the music, he’s like an albino King Kong! All the suburban boys form a circle around me, swearing, grabbing

their dingles, spitting! I have to read this letter! (to JK-47) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before, but I feel

EZRA: (JK-47) I’m JK-47! T-BONE! (monkey puppet) He’s JK-47! T-BONE! T-BONE!

PENNY: Dear Johnny, we haven’t met -- (to the audience) T-BONE grabs me. Ezra leaps on T-BONE, knocking him to the ground. Ezra disappears in the folds of massive flesh, like a ball-bearing dropped in a vat of vanilla pudding! (to JK-47) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before but -- PENNY: (reading) Hello, my NAME is PENNY LAMB and -- EZRA: (JK-47) What are you, anyway, bee-yotch? (monkey puppet) T-Bone! T-Bone! PENNY: Hello, my name is Penny Lamb, we haven’t met before -- EZRA: I know’z what you be, ho! PENNY: Hell -- EZRA: (JK-47) You be one of them… lesbians. You be one of them -- PENNY: Right. Hello, my name -- EZRA: (JK-47) Femamist lesbian. PENNY: Hello, my name is… She turns to the puppet. Fade out sound. PENNY: What did you just say? EZRA: (JK-47) … I said, you iz… a femamist… lesbian. (monkey puppet) Femamist lesbian, femamist lesbian, (echo) lesbian, lesbian, lesbian… lesbian… lesbian… PENNY: You see, that’s what I thought you said. SOUND Q #28 -- Epic build. The sound of a clap of thunder. “Montagues and Capulets” by Prokofiev plays. PENNY is suddenly bathed in a red spotlight. PENNY turns slowly to the audience with a wide psychotic expression on her face, both her knuckles balled up. PENNY: (hissing) Hello, my name is Penny Lamb… and I know FOR A FACT… we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting before… For you, my deep-fried messiah, are about to be welcomed to a level of leveling you have yet to revel, for now I, Penny Lamb, am the Devil… come now to SEND YOU TO THE REPUBLIC OF…. HELL.

Ohhhh! THE FAITH YOU create as an attraction MUST PROVIDE SATISFACTION… AND… OR… HELL… For now I do not merely want to hurt you, Johnny… No, no, no… Mm-mm. I want… to TASTE YOU. Bite! Into your flesh with my incisors. Have your skin corrode in the BOILING lava cauldron that is now my stomach! PENNY IS ECLIPSED! THE BURNING SUN HAS PASSED OVER THE PASSIVE MOON! I can vomit fire.

She turns and throws the contents of the Thermos (brown confetti) in the puppet’s face. She grabs it by the head. I! … CAN! … VOMIT! … (screaming) FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE! Fade out sound. She sinks her teeth into the puppet and disappears behind the desk. The lights go back to normal. EZRA stands on the stage blinking. EZRA stares at the audience awkwardly. He picks up his monkey and holds it nervously… Suddenly, he comes up with an idea. EZRA: Ladies and Gentlemen. In these troubled times! I know the question on all your lips. A question for which tonight I shall provide you with satisfaction. For now for the first time in the history of mankind, we shall dare to ask the question! Can a mere puppet break the theatrical fourth wall -- the wall between audience and performer. SOUND Q #29 -- Monkey. Sound plays out. A drum roll plays. EZRA opens up his puppet theatre. His monkey stands in the puppet theatre in profile. The monkey ever-so-slowly turns its head to the audience. The drum roll stops. To the sound of roaring applause, the monkey bows and exits the puppet theatre. PENNY stands up sheepishly, with a waning smile, holding a piece of paper. PENNY: (sheepishly) Anyway… um… after that whole Johnny cheek-biting incident thingy… fortunately for me, Johnny’s public relations firm thought it best that he drop all of the charges.

Apparently, JK-47 having the caa-caa beaten out of him by some fifteen-year-old girl, what with him being a “stone-cold bad-ass who shoots people to watch them bleed” -- that was pretty bad for his “rep”… Anyway. I was extradited back to Canada. But sadly… the story was leaked to the major media. It ruined JK-47’s “street cred” and they have some new “stone-cold, bad-ass” flavour-of-the-month now… I dunno… Ron the Rapping Rapist, or something… And… I was kind of famous for a bit. They even made a movie of the week of my real, live true-life story… JoJo played me. EZRA: I was played by one of the Culkin boys. PENNY: Anyway, I stood trial for drug dealing -- they gave me probation. And that’s when Miss Peachery -- my social worker -- asked me to talk to you all here tonight. To teach you all how to be better citizens… and never turn out like me… And I’ve got some lessons for you. (slowly) Never shoplift, jaywalk, beat up kids, swear, knock on people’s doors and run, be mean to overweight people, talk back to your parents. Stop, drop and roll. Never let your uncle touch you in places you feel uncomfortable with. Don’t do drugs, Unless they are prescribed by a licensed practitioner of the psychiatric profession… and… Lastly, I want to say I know something about true love. And I know most of you guys wouldn’t think I would… ‘Cause I’m, like, this psycho cannibal kid… But this… this is something I’ve thought about my entire life, okay? So. True Love. True love is, like, when they call you up and tell you, “Oh my God, my Mongolian Gerbil just died!” You’re not all, like, “My condolences” or “My heart goes out to you in your time of need.” Like some toy robot that can wind itself up… barfing out ten shiny socially acceptable stock phrases. No, when your true love calls… it goes way beyond that. Way. SOUND Q #30 -- Music Box. Sound plays out. PENNY: Like, when they call you up and say, “My mom is a cud-mulching cow,” their mom is a cud-mulching cow. But when they call you back and say, “I changed my mind, my mom is an angel with gossamer wings.” Guess what, their mom is an angel with gossamer wings… Oh, and I really like that word… “gossamer.” There are some really amazing words in English -- for such a crummy language… Anyway… Okay let me put it to you straight and simple because we don’t got all day, and everybody’s got to get places. (whispering, slowly) In a world where we are ultimately alone, and die in our own arms, love is the closest you come to another person… because it is the closest you come to being another person. So be very careful what you love.

Beat. PENNY: Penny Lamb. Aspiring animal conservationist. Signing out. Beat. PENNY: You got anything to add, Ez’? EZRA: Yes… Wrestling is real -- it’s the world that’s set up. Beat. PENNY: (brightly) Hm. Blackout. SOUND Q #31 -- Curtain call.

[septembersghost]

I really felt sorry for OW throughout the press.It was the textbook definition of misogyny. I know you probably see it as a Getaway Car situation but I feel like she really loved him(I swear I am not a ow fan or shipper and I KNOW she have done/said questionable things in past.) But I don't think anyone would have stayed with someone who attracts so much hate towards you unless you have real feelings for them. Not to mention the way her exhusband weaponized that hate and used it out of pure spite. I can definitely see why she left that man. As a mom I can't imagine someone telling me that I don't love my kids because I moved on from an abusive a****** to someone who actually treats me like a human being(my ex wasn't exactly the nicest person). To think this drama became mainstream and her being a 'bad mom' was a normal opinion because she dated harry is so bad. The misogyny becomes evident once you realise that Olivia took so much shit when people like Chris brown is still thriving.

oh i completely agree with you, the way olivia was treated was despicable and uncalled for - back in september, i reblogged this and it holds true (it's worth reading the entire piece).

In my six years as Editor-in-Chief of EMPIRE Magazine, I saw hundreds, thousands, of films (and TV shows) launch. I saw the press conferences, the junkets, the premieres, read the headlines and columns and interviews; I went on set visits, did some of those interviews myself, walked the red carpet before the talent had even left their hotel and studied the reviews. And out of those hundreds, thousands, I struggle to recall one that has come close to the circus of toxicity and triviality that DWD has turned out to be. And more specifically, that of a director who was as rinsed and wrung out as OW. Most strikingly, this isn’t just the stuff of tabloids, it’s seeped through into film culture, with critics and journalists and readers swept up in speculation and giddy fascination at a woman having her work barely taken seriously while her character and privacy are cracked open.

it also doesn't matter, nor is it our business, if they did start out in the getaway scenario, it lasted much longer than that, and she was torn to shreds online through every step of it. it's not even about whether or not she made some missteps (and the article there mentions the awful way she and flo were discussed and how the media salivated over making that into a cat fight without any evidence), or past mistakes, there's no excuse for the sheer amount of vitriol she received from his supposed fans.

i have more to say about her ex and his behavior that i have been told but i can't address it publicly, so the short response is that i agree with you, and by many accounts, she had very real reasons for needing to get out of that relationship. the way she was discussed as a mother was horrific, the papers being served to her on stage was too. i'm so sorry you went through a situation where an ex treated you badly too. :( you deserve so much better than that. it's gross that h clearly cared for her and that was twisted into some salacious thing and splashed all over various media. and it's terrible that we do this, over and over again, to women simply for dating famous "desirable" men (i have stumbled accidentally on multiple hate blogs dedicated to attacking the girlfriends of famous men in the past week and it is very concerning to me).

the misogyny is ABSOLUTELY apparent - think of how many male directions get away with actual abusive behavior, and this woman was treated like a demon for...her dating life?...it's upsetting. we should have learned better so long ago.

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Bottled Up || Drabble

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3   Wordcount: 4388 Warnings: physical fighting leading to injury and death, swearing, improper weapon use and about a ton of bad coping mechanisms Summary: Quest added - Bottled up

After overhearing a conversation between Willow and Dammon, it's obvious that something or someone from her past is coming back to haunt her. The real question is, how far can she be pushed before everything she's hiding inside will come out by force?

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

The blade gleamed in the warm, bright light of the campfire. Astarion looked at it, deep in thought, as he occasionally twirled the blade in his hands. Both to use the reflective surface to look behind him without turning around, and to get a feel for the dagger in his hand. After all, a weapon was only as good as the person working with it was, but that wasn't really the thought that was lingering in his mind.

No, what was currently sitting in the forefront of his mind was a conversation he had with Willow at the Last Light Inn, after the blacksmith of that place had seemingly scared the living daylights out of her. Astarion had only caught parts of that particular moment, and half pieced together that Dammon had told Willow some distant relative of his told him to say hi to her from some friend. And what followed to it had been Willow in a state of absolute panic that Astarion had never seen her in before, to the point where he of all people had to try his best to calm her back down behind the humble abode of the blacksmith.

His brow furrowed, as he pressed the point of the dagger to his finger and gave the blade a twirl; somehow without slicing his fingertip clean off. A rogue thing, surely. The thing was, when he had excused himself and Willow to Dammon, and just as much told him to leave the two of them alone.. Well, the conversation afterwards had been.. odd, he though, as he replayed in his mind yet again.

"Astarion, if we ever run into some tiefling sorcerer by the name of Nephamor-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, let you do the talking."

"What? No. Kill him. Please."

His gaze drifted to the side, as he was still thinking about that request. It wasn't the first time someone had asked him to get rid of someone else. It wasn't even the first time someone had asked that while seemingly terrified of the person they wanted to get rid of. He watched her from his peripheral as Willow had set up her bed close to the campfire to stay warm, and probably also because for some reason or another she felt more safe with Astarion nearby.

He let out a small huff. Had her request really been just out of fear? Asking the rogue of the group for some  semblance of protection from a weirdo was not out of the realm of things people did, sure, but... Astarion couldn't shake the feeling that hiding underneath that supposed fear of this 'Nephamor' lay something else entirely. Something clipped, chained, hidden deep under layers and layers of other emotions in order to conceal it.

The next day came and went with only a minimum amount of trouble as far as this group was concerned. People had split off into various smaller groups to go and explore the area and gather resources before deciding where to set up a safe camp. It was a simple enough process where the party agreed to meet back up at sundown, settle down for the night and do a head count to see if no one had wandered off for no real reason. That's exactly when the real trouble of the day emerged; they were one short.

"Karlach, where is Willow?" Gale remarked as the purple tiefling was quite easy to miss when she wasn't present. Astarion frowned slightly, quietly moving over to where Willow usually set up her tent without alerting the rest of the group to his intentions

"She told me she wanted to go back to camp for a bit, but that I should press on to find more wood for the campfire. I didn't think much of it…"

"I can confirm that," Wyll answered, "I ran into her on her way back, and she told me the same thing, that she had to go back to camp to drop some things off. I saw her leave to the east a little bit later."

"And you didn't think it weird that she was without her lute?" Astarion asked sharply, dragging the offending instrument with him out of Willows tent.

Wyll blinked, rubbing the back of his neck in a sense of shame. He hadn't even noticed Willow hadn't brought her instrument with her, but considering that as a Bard that was basically her lifeline and weapon of choice... this was bad. Really bad.

"Right," Astarion continued, "I don't know about the lot of you, but I don't like the idea of our Bard out there with no means of defending herself. Wyll said she went east last, but we all know Willow is not exactly one to stick to conventional paths. We should split up and cover as much ground to find her. Shadowheart, can you stay here in case she returns? just send some kind of light beacon if she comes back so we don’t spend hours running in circles if she’s here or if someone brought her back?"

Some of them grouped up to look for Willow, but Astarion preferred to go off on his own. When left to his own devices, he could treat this as a hunt, and not feel judged for using every skill he had accumulated over the centuries to find her. She had indeed gone east first like Wyll had said, but the faint hint of lavender that Astarion associated with Willow at this point definitely went in an erratic pattern a short while afterwards, eventually taking a weird sharp turn into a dense part of the forest they had found themselves in.

It didn't take him all that long to pick up her heartbeat and follow the sound of that, but when a second heartbeat joined Astarion instinctively went into hiding, moving silently in the thick undergrowth of the forest as he snuck closer to where he knew Willow was.

When he got closer, he realised she was arguing with an reddish, male Tiefling; a sorcerer by the looks of it. That had to be Nephamor, then. Without much of a thought behind it, Astarion loaded an arrow onto his bow and silently took aim; pointing the arrow straight at Nephamor who was yapping on about something to do with the tour Willow had previously given as a Bard. After all, Willow had requested him to-

"Nephamor, shut the fuck up, and listen to me for once in your life!"

Astarion flinched back, lowering his weapon as he looked at Willow from his hiding spot and blinked in surprise. For as long as they had travelled together, he had never heard her snap at anyone like that.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. As probably the only one, he had noticed moments with Willow where a very deep seated, repressed rage had been bubbling to the surface of her personality. Something that she shook off and pushed back down each and every time it surfaced, but that now seemed to want to emerge in absolute full force.

His pointed ears pricked up, as he was now very curious to what this conversation was actually about. Immediately ending Nephamor now would absolutely cut that conversation short and Astarion found himself far more interested in what Willow was so desperately trying to keep buried under layers of kindness and helpfulness.

"I have a fucking tadpole stuck in my brain," the purple tiefling continued, her tone sharp as the edge of a knife as her eyes seemed to blaze with the heat of the fire within her, "I have much better things to do than indulge you in your fucking fantasies! You were a traveling companion, just to keep me safe as we toured because we both wanted to leave the hellhole we came from!

Let me make one thing perfectly, crystal clear, which I should have done a long time ago; this fucking idea in your head where you and I are this romantic couple that ran off to elope is just that; in. your. head. I never agreed to any of that, all I wanted was to finally be rid of everyone's constant whining and complaining and opinions of me and how stupid I was to take a liking to music and art instead of what everyone wanted me to like! And I guess I was fucking stupid for thinking you matured past that, and wanting that same option to just leave, and now you're just-"

"Oh, here we go, there's the drama diva we all know and adore," Nephamor coo’ed, seemingly unimpressed by Willow's outburst to the point where he was completely comfortable interrupting her in the middle of it. It only made Astarion instinctively agree with Willow that the guy was a waste of perfectly good oxygen, not to mention rude beyond measure.

"Surely, you've had your fun? Running about pretending to be some hero when we both know you're just like the rest of us? Or did the doting adoration of your fans really fuck with your head that much?"

Willow bit back her anger, or at least desperately tried to as Nephamor approached her with nothing but contempt and condescension, lightly patting her on the cheek as he did and leaving his hand there making every fiber of her being tense up.

He really should interrupt this now. But before Astarion even had a chance to take aim yet again, Nephamor leaned closer to Willow. Considering the two Tieflings weren't aware they were being watched, he didn't actually bother to drop his volume by any significant amount. But that didn't mean the tone of his voice didn't drip with venom and thinly veiled threats

"If you know what's good for you, you get into the back of that cart, right now, or else. We're going home, dollface-"

In a spit second, Willow's demeanor changed; frightfully so. Her stance straightened, her eyes stopped spewing fire- everything about her seemed to completely freeze over. Astarion couldn't help but flinch back once more. He had rarely seen Willow angry, but, by comparison he had never seen her freeze over completely in anger like this. Then, in one swift move, Willow grabbed Nephamors wrist, pulled his hand off her face and then rammed her free fist into the point right below where she was holding on. What followed was the unmistakable sound of bones snapping and a terrorized scream from the one who's bones were breaking, only for Willow to fully claw Nephamor over the face and pounce on him like a panther would tackle a deer. She all but slammed him onto the floor, her full weight pressing down on both his shoulders.

"Don't call me that!"

It came out of her like a ferocious roar, before she started wailing on him as all her held rage was pouring out- there was no stopping it now. Nephamor instinctively defended himself, and while her anger gave her an adrenaline boost, he was still taller, broader and stronger than her. He aggressively shoved her off himself, tearing parts of her shirt as he tried to get a grip with his claws.

Astarion didn't know what to do now, as both Tieflings charged and collided like angry lions fighting over the last scrap of food after a drought. If he shot an arrow or spell in their direction now, he risked severely hurting Willow and giving her attacker the upper hand in the fight through it. He looked back and forth between the two, as Willow and Nephamor snarled at each other whenever they broke apart before getting right back into the fight.

Both of them were battered and bruised, scratch marks in every place where the opposing party could've reached before Nephamor roughly threw Willow off himself, watching her fall to the ground and roll away for a some inches.

"Are you fucking done, you bitch?! Stop this ridiculous behavior, and get in the cart, doll-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as Willow got up, with the full force of her weight and strength tackled him into the opening of the cave behind him. They rolled over each other, deeper into the cave, just outside the limit of Astarion's view. Astarion moved as quickly as he could to the entrance of the cave, following the sound of Willow's rapid heartbeat as he did. And he felt even more spurred to do something when he heard the sound of someone gasping for air.

He hadn't expected, still, to stumble upon the scene he did.

Willow had Nephamor trapped underneath her. The muscles of her arms were trembling with the amount of pressure she was pushing down, as her clawed hands were wrapped around his neck. She kept pushing, pressing, squeezing, until the non-injured arm clawing at her stopped fighting and flopped lifelessly down to the side. Only then did she let up, desperately gasping for air as in one fell swoop all the adrenaline and energy left her.

Tears started to burn and prick in her eyes- trying to fight that back as well as rebottle everything that had spilled out of her emotionally made her softly gasp even more for air. She winced hard when she heard the slight tumble of a rock unintentionally kicked behind her, and sharply turned around.

Her ears dropped, as did her heart. Her tail tucked itself in between her legs, as she let out a sharp gasp of shock when she realised Astarion had seen the whole thing. Willow scrambled backwards, desperately trying to put distance between herself and the pale elf, flipping over as soon as she could to try and flee deeper into the cave while ignoring him calling her name and pleading for her to come back. Unfortunately for her, the cave wasn't deep enough to properly hide away in. Astarion easily found her, holding up his hands when she flipped back around to him while pressing herself as far up against the wall in her back as she could.

"Stay back!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a soft, hushed tone, but he did stop his approach when she snapped at him. It hadn't been in the same way she had snapped to Nephamor; there was no anger or rage left in the tone of her voice, just fear. She just looked at him, tears filling her eyes that she still desperately tried to hold back while little desperate gasps left her lungs.

"Willow?"

Both Astarion and Willow snapped up a little as a new voice called into the cave, the sound echoing to where they were. Astarion looked back at the Tiefling, only to see her purple skin pale as her eyes showed him how absolutely mortified she was at hearing-

"Gale?"

He just nodded at her. Yes, that was indeed Gale. He figured that made sense, it was only so long before another party member would wind up around this cave. Astarion blinked as the mortified look in Willow's eyes made way for pure, raw, deep panic.

"No- No! no, no, no, no, Astarion, please, don't let him see me like this! P-please, don't, I- he- let me keep my d-dignity, that's- please, it's all I have!"

The tears won; they poured down her face like a waterfall unwilling to stop now that the dam had broken. Astarion thought for a moment, his expression softening ever so slightly, before sharply turning on his heels and sauntering over to the entrance of the cave. He quickly and quietly whispered "nocturne," before placing himself in such a way in the entrance that Gale couldn't easily look in, just in case.

How he was going to explain this magical feeling darkness to their wizard friend, well, that was just a thing he was going to have to solve when and if the conversation turned to that.

"Gale," he chimed in a happy little way, casually leaning on the rock formation as if he wasn't trying to block the wizard's line of sight on purpose, "I've already searched this cave, there is no need for you to snoop around. All it has is a dead Tiefling."

"Not Willow, i presume, from your demeanor?" Gale asked, with a hint of slight suspicion in his voice. It wasn't like they were looking for a Tiefling after all.

"Nope. This one's kind of orangey red, and male. I think he got himself involved in some random dispute. Could you be a dear and peruse the perimeter around this cave? It does go a little deeper than where we are standing that I still have to explore, but I'd rather not drag you down into the deep dark if there’s a chance someone’s watching us."

"Speaking of," Gale remarked, glancing at the unnatural darkness behind Astarion, "what's with the nocturne obscurity? What did you find in there, aside from a dead Tiefling, that you feel the need to blind?"

"Nothing of interest, now if you-"

"Astarion," Gale asked now in a dead serious tone, "did you find h-"

"Gale."

Astarion's reply was in a clipped tone. He wasn't necessarily actually upset with Gale, and he couldn't pretend like he wouldn't be equally suspicious if he was on the wizard's end of this conversation. But what happened was not his story to share, and Willow wasn't ready to share it, so…

"Do me a favor, and make yourself useful elsewhere."

Silence fell between them as Gale looked over Astarion's face carefully. All the pale elf did for a moment was avert his gaze to the left, before looking the wizard right back in the eyes.

"....... Please."

Gale let out a resigned sigh at that. Whatever it was that Astarion didn't want him to see, some voice in the back of his mind told him that it wouldn't be appreciated if he barged in any how. If the elf had found Willow, then something had happened that she wasn't comfortable showing to her other friends, yet. He held up his hand, signaling that he was backing down from this conversation.

"Alright. If you need me, let me know. If not, I'll meet you back at camp."

"Sounds good to me."

Astarion watched Gale leave, recalling his spell with a flick of his wrist when he felt like Gale was far enough out of sight. He half turned back into the cave, pausing for a moment to think what he was actually going to do to get their bard back to camp. He then quietly made his way back to where Willow was, further into the cave.

She sat in the middle of a small hollow room of the cave, on her shins as she quietly looked at the palms of her hands. Blood lingered on the sharp, claw like nails on her hands, sticking to random places on her palms; and she couldn't even tell what parts of it were hers and what belonged to Nephamor. Astarion just looked at her for a moment, a twinge of worry on his face. It wasn't just the blood; her clothes were in tatters and barely clung onto her form, her body was trembling with fear and exhaustion, and when she looked at him her eyes showed nothing but dull numbness.

"...... thank you.." she whispered, appreciating it deeply that he hadn't allowed Gale to stumble upon this scene. The panic at the idea of anyone but Astarion seeing her so broken and vulnerable vanished, but her tears returned with a vengeance, now fueled by guilt and disgust.

"I'm- He-" she started, not knowing what she wanted to say or what her explanation even was for everything that she had done in the short span she had done it in, looking at Astarion for some feeling of guidance in what was no doubt the darkest moment of her life.

"He never list- I didn't want- I-"

She looked back at her hands, a desperate sob leaving her body.

"You... you said you're not going to hurt me," she said in between a few hiccups as the tears kept raining down, "That's not- It's not you I'm afraid of, Star. It's... it's-" 

Me.

She couldn't say it, aloud, but her gaze practically screamed it at him as her fire green eyes met his crimson red ones. And for owning a heart that hadn't actually been beating for the better part of two centuries, Astarion could pretty much feel it crack as he saw the desperation, fear, and revolted guilt at what she had done in Willow. For one mere moment, the whole situation reminded him of a high elf he once knew; one just changed, morphed, and put under the control of a full-fledged vampire who wasted no time in putting him to use. He firmly shut his eyes for a moment, trying to ban the thought, opening them only to still see her in a state of hurt. A state he knew very wellwhat it was like to be in.

"I...." another sharp sob left her, "I really am nothing but the monster they say I am."

Astarion sighed, the statement hitting him like a gut punch. How often had people made Willow feel horrible for being a Tiefling, as if she had chosen to be born as one? How often had she pushed down her anger, choosing to be kind, and declawing and defanging herself in some attempt to actually be seen as someone kind?

How often had the world made her feel like she had no right to her emotions, that she was meant to stay in line or at least fulfill a part; of tiefling, of hero, of arbitrarily chosen wife? That if she showed any of this in lesser capacity they would condemn her just for what she was, and if it came out what had transpired here, how many would feel justified in claiming that all Tieflings were just monsters that couldn't and wouldn't control their rage?

He looked at her. Had it been anyone else, Astarion wasn't sure if he would've reacted in the same way, but with her....

He approached in a calm, but sure of himself way, dropping to his knees when he was in front of her to be on a similar level. He took a hold of her hands, before swiftly but gently pulling her into a hug and pressing her face to the top of his shoulder.

She hesitated, he could sense that she did. But then, her shaking arms slowly closed around him as she pressed her face deeper into his shoulder. And she broke. The tears she had been fighting and losing the battle with poured out into the curve of his shoulder, and he could feel how she clutched onto him in full desperation.

He could tell her that he felt Nephamor deserved what happened to him. How he now understood that when she had asked for Astarion to kill him instead, it was out of a desire of ending it quicker and in less of a mess than her fight had been. How trying so hard to make herself palatable and approachable that she tore out her own rage was not going to help accomplish the kindness she wanted to give, or wanted to receive in return. Yet he could feel how sensitive she was right now, how vulnerable and wounded and open, and how what he actually said to her now could either help or do further damage. And for some reason he didn’t quite understand himself, he really didn't want the latter to happen.

He softly ran his hand over the waves of her dark hair, lightly tightening the grip of his hug around her, hoping it made her feel protected and safe.

"I am not afraid of you, Willow," he whispered to her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, "shh, it's alright, I'm here."

They sat there in embrace for as long as it took for her to calm down, with Astarion just gently running his hand over her hair and back in a soothing manner. Only when she finally seemed to calm down, when the exhaustion really and fully took a hold of her, Astarion shifted his weight and easily picked her up from the ground. He carried her back to the safety of the camp site, easily tucking her into his tent before calling Shadowheart over to give Willow a look over and maybe some healing.

At least Shadowheart didn't feel the need to comment on the state Willow was in, just healing the scrapes and bruises to the best of her abilities before going off and sending out the light beacon for everyone to return back to camp as Astarion fetched some clothes for Willow to wear from the travel case Karlach lugged around. He disappeared into the comfort of his tent, silently setting aside the clothes for her as he watched her still staring at her hands. He just sat down in front of her, quietly taking her hands in his before lifting them up and kissing them without a second thought. She just turned her gaze to the ground, her ears flicking back and lowering.

"Star... I'm a-"

"No. I know monsters, Willow. Genuine, true, horrible monsters. Your regret alone sets you leagues apart from them, darling."

He took back one of his hands, gently placing it under her chin and lightly pushing up to make her look at him. He looked into her eyes for a little while, before pressing a feather soft kiss to her lips.

"Nothing you do will ever make me scared of you."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Oh, and, darling?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you ever tell me the full, true story of why you left your home town, and how you got tangled up in this whole tadpole infestation in the first place?"

"... I will. Not tonight, but I will. Can you just... lay here with me, for a while? I'm... I'm so tired.."

He gave a small, soft and slightly amused huff as he went to sit down beside her, allowing her to settle and rest her head against his stomach as he ran his fingers through her hair, gently untangling her braid in the process.

"Rest, dear. I'll be here when you wake."

[chainsawmanfan]

gn spousey!!!

LEGOLAND

THE ENTERTAINERS PENNY LAMB: A sixteen-year-old, sister of Ezra. EZRA LAMB: A thirteen-year-old, brother of Penny.

PLAYING STYLE Physical. Very physical. But truthful. The acting should be as frenetic and as over-the-top as possible, but with real acting intentions and subtlety. A clock with a soul.

MUSIC The whole play should be underscored, but not with current pop. Instead, past tunesmiths like Elvis, Hank Williams, Berlioz and Beethoven. Ambient music is fine occasionally as background. The soundscape sets the rhythm of their game.

SOUND Q #1 -- Last song preshow. Fade out sound as the house lights come down. Two spotlights, one on PENNY LAMB, the other on her brother EZRA. PENNY is a young woman wearing French braids and a private school uniform; she has a bright smile. Holding a piece of paper, she stands over a music box that plays a sweet, monotonous melody. EZRA, an intense thirteen-year-old, sits cross-legged in a chair, with a neutral expression on his face. He, too, wears a school uniform, plus a black cape, a single white dress glove and Chinese slippers. He has a fixed gaze on one audience member of his choosing, a fixed gaze he maintains practically throughout the proceedings. PENNY: Hello. My name is Penny Lamb, and I am an aspiring animal conservationist.

PENNY slams the music box. There is a flash. The stage exposes a large garbage can full of toys and a makeshift puppet theatre upstage centre made of household miscellanea: flashlight as footlight, a red curtain, etc. At the back of the wall there is a screen for various slides. EZRA should run the show as much as possible. Whatever the layout, it should look like it is designed by two industrious children… including the slides; imagine two children, with a solid year to design a show. PENNY speaks at an incredible speed, being an immensely nervous and self-conscious teenager. She literally trips over her words -- a volcano of passion and eloquence. PENNY: Hello again… (stage left) Welcome. (stage right) Welcome. (centre stage) Welcome… Welcome to my presentation. (reading from her card) This is where I tell you, after two hundred hours of community service, how never to turn out like me. It is my hope that after my hours of community service (looking up) that have culminated in this presentation, (reading) you will all go out and… and well… (looking up) lead fuller, lawfuller lives! (reading) I would like to thank Miss Peachery -- (looking up) my social worker -- (reading) for giving me the ultimatum of doing this presentation… (looking up) or, like, pick up other people’s trash for an entire year on some crummy expressway… (reading of a cure card, at a machine-gun pace) So first off I want to tell people never to shoplift, jaywalk, beat up kids, swear, knock on people’s doors and run away, be mean to overweight people, talk back to your parents. Stop, drop and roll. Never let your uncle touch you in places you feel uncomfortable with -- (looking up) even if it’s, like, your elbow. (looking down) Don’t do drugs -- unless they are prescribed by a licensed practitioner of the psychiatric profession… and stay away from sex, but if you ever get into super sexy stuff… use a condom… Oh… and it’s entirely natural to mastubate… (looking up) but never in a public place. She stops reading. Whew. Well that should cover a lot of ground, considering that’s like every high school play or movie I’ve ever seen in, like… ten seconds flat. And, I didn’t do any of the above mentioned stuff. I’ve taken all of those lessons to heart, and obeyed them. Beat. (fast) However, I did sell and traffic drugs in two countries, and horribly maim this man. This man I truly loved. Beat. Look, I was fifteen then. I was all screwed up… I’m sixteen now.

Beat. I would also like to thank Ezra… for doing all the art direction and putting all the pizazz into this whole stupid thing. Oh, this is my brother Ezra Lamb. Together… we are the Lambs. Say hi-a, Ezra Lamb. PENNY assumes a vaudeville punchline pose. EZRA casually takes of his white glove and throws it on the ground. He walks daintily next to PENNY, taking his time, leading with his feet, still focused on his one audience member. He talks like a nutcracker, breaking up his words. He has an other-worldly voice, and is practically expressionless throughout the proceedings. EZRA: Hi-a, Ezra Lam…… “bu.” EZRA assumes the Vaudeville pose, but with a performance art edge. PENNY: (giggling) That’s a joke… We make those. You can laugh… or not. Beat. EZRA: (with intensity) Hi-a, Ezra Lam… (extremely loud) “BU”! Beat. PENNY: Um, he has ADHD, which means -- EZRA: Attention Deficit Hy-per Act-ive Dis-or-der. PENNY: Which means -- EZRA: Five milligrams of Ritalin, five milligrams of Dex-ahhhh-drine. PENNY: And -- EZRA: I have strong apprehension to the scientific claims of my dis-or-der. PENNY: He’s pretty smart though -- for a thirteen-year-old basket case. Are you going to talk like that through the whole presentation? EZRA: Yes. PENNY: In real life he doesn’t talk like that. EZRA: In real life I don’t exist. Beat.

PENNY: Yes, he does. EZRA: No, I don’t. PENNY: Yes, he does. EZRA: No, I don’t. PENNY: Yes. EZRA: No. PENNY: Yes. EZRA: No. PENNY: Yes. EZRA: No. PENNY: No. EZRA: Yes. PENNY: Ha! EZRA: (defeated) I exist. PENNY: Why don’t you tell us something about yourself, Ezra? SOUND Q #2 -- “Gnossienne.” EZRA exposes a sad-looking doll. He acts out the motions of the little man in the puppet theatre. Eric Satie’s “Gnossienne #1” plays. EZRA: Well… I did read in the paper a while ago… Jeffrey Dahmer, you know that serial killer that killed and ate all those people? Well, he pulled double night shifts in a factory making chocolate Santa Clauses. Did it for years. So I imagine the austere fluorescent lighting, the endless chocolate Santas coming down the conveyor belt, the gloomy faces punching in the clock… The desperate silence of a cog in a forever festive machine… going to work at sunset, to bed at sunrise… This goes on for years… Until finally he falls on his knees going… He makes the puppet fall on his knees.

(in a southern accent, dramatically) I’m going to break. I’m simply gonna’ break. PENNY: Uhh… Okay. So I can explain… we were both home schooled. EZRA: I mean it would drive you -- PENNY: (gritting) Okay, that’s enough about Jeffrey Dahmer! Let me whisk you away to happier times. Play some whisking-away music, Ezra. SOUND Q #3 -- Whisking-away EZRA plays whisking-away music on his ghetto-blaster. SLIDE #1 -- Uranium City. PENNY: Welcome to Uranium City, Saskatchewan! Oh, the sun is out today, I see. We both grew up on the Elysium Community Farm, just outside of Uranium City, which means -- EZRA: A lot of people walking around naked, quoting eastern philosophy, and never shaving their pubes. PENNY: Right, and all the kids there were named Rainbow, Sunshine, Trotsky. Ezra even had a best friend named Noam Chomsky… SkyTrain. We lived on Elysium with our mom Marie-Jose Blanche -- and our dad -- Rudolf. They met at some college waaaaaaaaaaay back in the nineties. He took her in his arms and danced her ass off to “Hungry Eyes,” and they also found that they both thought modern civilization was -- EZRA: A sausage factory, crushing individuals’self-worth, turning them into soulless, neurotic robots. PENNY: Toads. And that got them both real hot! So that very same night, I was conceived. Three years later, Ezra. Lookit, where we grew up? Elysium Community Farm? Everybody was totally into all that happy hippy stuff. You know, sitars, sunshine, philosophy, love, Humanism, ganja weed. We talked and laughed, learned lots… And sometimes at night Ezra would put on super cool puppet shows about German Nihilism. EZRA: The nail that sticks out gets hammered down! EZRA gestures, punching his hands together. PENNY: It went on like this for years, this all-enlightened, home-made living; there was only one drawback… Now, we didn’t want to hurt the good people at Elysium, but there was this crummy rule that kids couldn’t go to Legoland until they were sixteen -- oh, by the way, that’s what they called everything here outside Elysium -- “Legoland.” (She winks)

Fade out sound. PENNY: Okay so lookit! When I got to thirteen… I was getting kind of itchy, you know? To see a world that didn’t consist only of naked, smiling, enlightened hippies… And Ezra… Well, Ezra was getting kind of weird… playing with his little monkey in his room all day. EZRA removes a monkey hand puppet wearing a little bowler. PENNY: Oh, that’s his little monkey, Afenschwanz. EZRA: Afenschwanz in German means monkey dingle. PENNY: Ezra has always been all mad into the Germans. I mean, that Nietzsche guy had a saying for everything! EZRA: The last Christian died on the cross. PENNY: A joke is an epitaph on emotion. EZRA: Without music, the world would be a mistake. PENNY: Ah, that’s my absolute favorite! Without music, the world would be a mistake. Beat. PENNY: Awesome! Nietzsche's so dreamy. So, I got the hankering to go to Legoland… more specifically, Uranium City. I knew kind of what to expect, because I read a book called Anne of Green Gables. I mean, sure the whole town would be weirded out by our precocious mannerisms at first. But after a while we’d all be embraced by these nice people… Banker Mudge… Farmer Pete… Baker Jones. Oh, and little Gilbert, my high school sweetheart who -- EZRA: When we got to Wal-Mart, it wasn’t anything like that… EZRA & PENNY: Wal-Mart! SOUND Q #4 -- Wal-Mart. PENNY: … A big old slab of bright blue and concrete… plastered with yellow smiley faces. Cars spilling in and out. EZRA: An endless line of people coming and going. PENNY: Looking down at their feet, holding their bags. The only ones smiling are the people that work there.

EZRA & PENNY: Crazy jack-o’-lantern smiles! PENNY: Thousands of magazines of famous people in tons of make-up, telling you that without all their make-up, they’d look just like you. EZRA: And without all their fame… EZRA & PENNY: They’d act just like you! Fade out sound. PENNY: Anyway… Wal-Mart was super awesome… But… everyone was all busy… Now, we tried our darndest to strike up friendly chats with people in Wal-Mart… But it was strange; if you talked to people they acted like you were touching your dingle in front of them. We snuck out several times, but no matter what we did, no one talked to us! So that’s when we came up with this… Jeez, it was such a stupid idea.. I was thirteen then… So we… EZRA falls down on the ground and starts convulsing. PENNY: (mechanically) Oh my God! That little boy is having a seizure. We have to get him on his stomach so he doesn’t swallow his tongue! EZRA jiggles around. PENNY shakes him several times. He revives. EZRA: (coached) Thank you, I would have been a goner if it weren’t for the collective need I sensed in all of you for my survival. PENNY: So, Ezra started faking seizures in the Wal-Mart, and I’d pretend to revive him. And now -- I know, I know, I know! … it is not socially acceptable to simulate human catastrophe in order to strike up a conversation. But I have to say, when people think you’re on the brink of death… Well… they can be really super awesome! The whole crowd of people would break out into applause, old ladies’ mascara would run from tears of joy, families would cry out, “Oh, thank God he’s all right! Oh, thank God that little boy is all right!” You see, every time Ezra had one of his spaz attacks, there was real love in the Wal-Mart… It wasn’t just a place to get cheap junk anymore… No! It was a community. So, we did it a couple of times -- EZRA: Thirty-six times. PENNY: Thirty-six times… and after a while, the manager got wise… and, well, he called the police… and they drove us home. And that’s when… Well, that’s when… all that trouble happened… SOUND Q #5 -- Hippy

Beat. EZRA is in the puppet theatre acting out the drug bust with toys. PENNY: As it turned out… Elysium was the largest fricking organic pot farm in the Prairies! … The constable got on his CB… before you knew it, all of Elysium looked like a cheesy action film. All the parents were rounded up in paddy wagons… The next day we all made national news. All these pictures of us Elysian kids looking all doe-eyed… And I know it’s bad to feel bad for people who’ve violated the sacred sanctity of like… Never. Getting. High… but the parents on Elysium, our parents, my parents… they loved us and taught us kids a lot of cool stuff like, how to make… Fade out sound over fifteen seconds. EZRA: Non-toxic forms of penicillin. PENNY: The fundamentals of chemistry, agriculture, astronomy -- and every Sunday the kids would have the humanistic talent show -- where everyone came in first! We were really kind of… amazingly happy. Beat. PENNY: Anyway, after my folks got fifteen for cultivation and trafficking of narcotics… we were sent to a boarding school… First day. Teacher pulls me up in front of the class. SOUND Q #6 -- School bell. Sound plays out. Beat. PENNY: The instant I see the boys staring at me like gaping fish with their heads cut off… and the girls looking at me with those Queen of England smiles… Oh, little Penny wasn’t in Kansas anymore… Uh-uh… I was sent to the charred black bowels of everlasting Hell! Beat. PENNY: (brightly) But all the teachers liked to call it -- EZRA & PENNY: Saint Cassian Catholic School! SOUND Q #7 -- Thunder and religious music. EZRA: The actual Saint Cassian was lynched by his students, pinned down and brutally stabbed in the throat with their styli.

PENNY & EZRA: How perfect! PENNY: Saint Cassian, a blend of everything insane in both science and religion. EZRA: Jesus without love. PENNY: Science with no reason. And I was given the dubious distinction of being branded the high school -- EZRA & PENNY: LESBIAN! Sound fades out. PENNY: Everything I did was wrong. My hair, how I talked, what I loved, liked, listened to! Boys writing “Dyke” on my locker with indelible Jiffy-marker. Being pushed down stairs, pushed up stairs, pushed to the side of stairs, soon avoiding stairs all together -- which made it very difficult, because my locker and most of my classes were on the second floor! Girls going up to me all, like -- EZRA pops up in the puppet theatre with three Barbies, all speaking in EZRA’s voice; he attempts very little characterization, still giving his flat delivery. EZRA: (Barbies) Penny, me and the girls were wondering, are you, like, some kind of lesbian? PENNY: I don’t… How many kinds are there? … What… is a lesbian like? EZRA: (Barbies) Like you! Tee-hee, tee-hee. EZRA and the Barbies giggle. PENNY: Ohh, their laughter! Like a pack of bleached-blond, screeching banshees! And in class, in class, it was actually worse! I mean, I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to actually know anything in school! EZRA: (as the teacher) So, class, in Lord of the Flies, what is William Golding trying to express? PENNY, in a chair, puts her hand up excitedly. PENNY: Uh… The Lord of the Flies. So these children are on an island without parents, right? And they revert to a Darwinian state, where savage conformity rules, the intelligent, the spiritual, the moral. Picked off… one by one! Crushed under rocks! Stuck like pigs! EZRA: (as the teacher) Penny, we’re Catholics, we don’t believe in Darwin! (Barbies) Ha, ha, ha, not only is Penny a lesbian, she’s a feminist lesbian! PENNY: Well, who’s ever heard of a misogynist lesbian.

EZRA: (as the teacher) Penny, stop using big words. PENNY: Big words? This is an English class! Wh-wh-what big words? EZRA: (as the teacher) Words, like “conformity” and “intelligence.” (Barbies) All we want to do is, like -- read? … books? PENNY: (powerfully) Read?! The only things you beepin’ hussies like to read are your pregnancy tests! EZRA: (as the teacher) Penny! Get out of my classroom! Take your wicked keister down to (EZRA’s voice) Dr. Prattle’s office! PENNY: Dr. Prattle, the Catholic psychiatrist! EZRA & PENNY: Jesus, Freud and pills. EZRA: Now, there’s a bitter cocktail! PENNY: I got to Dr. Prattle’s office -- wham, bam, thank you ma’am. I was now the proud owner of a brand new -- EZRA & PENNY: Neurological disorder! Fade out sound. PENNY: Bipolar! Manic depressive… Survey says! SLIDE #2 -- Pill. EZRA: Five milligrams of Paxil two times a day! PENNY: And Ezra was soon sent to the good doctor, too. EZRA: It was after my science presentation. SOUND Q #8 -- Masterpiece Theater. SLIDE #3 -- Syphilis. Masterpiece Theater theme plays. A slide comes up reading, “The Syphilis Hall of Fame,” with pictures of several philosophers.

EZRA: The Syphilis Hall of Fame. Nietzsche, Shakespeare, Voltaire… Question: What made these the great thinkers they are today? … Answer: syphilis. Fade out sound. PENNY: That’s when Ezra was diagnosed with severe -- EZRA: ADHD. Five milligrams of Ritalin, five milligrams of Dexedrine. PENNY: Anyway, there we were -- doped up to the gills -- in Hell. Well, I was. Ezra was kind of -- EZRA: (proudly) Sold my meds to teenagers and college kids. Ten bucks a throw. PENNY: Kids on the street called him “lil’ E-Z,” as it -- EZRA: One “Lamb,” and you can take it EEEE-ZEE. For two E-Z payments of five dollars you get high as a kite, sharp as a tack, get wiggedy wiggedy wack, or your money back. PENNY: He had a massive eighteen-year-old football player named Todd on salary, EZRA: He was always coming up short, skimming the product. (blurts with passion, yet without tension in his voice) Fucking junkies! PENNY: EZRA GINSBERG MARTIN LUTHER WOODY GUTHRIE LAMB! … This is a theatre… you can’t say the F-word unless you’re pretending to be poor! Anyway, lil’ E-Z was making a go at his whole drug syndicate thingy… And I was kind of… well… Beat. PENNY: Like, sleeping in my room all day… tearing my hair and throwing up, kind of suicidal and depressed and everything… So, one day a bunch of girls were setting fire to my school bag -- second time that week -- and I wasn’t even crying anymore… because, you get to a point… when you’re waaaay beyond crying. Beat. PENNY: “Not waving but drowning.” Stevie Smith. “This is my life… Whoomp (There It Is).” Tag Team. Beat. PENNY: But then! … Tammy Edwards sat down next to me and, like… took Christian pity. EZRA: Tinky winky tinky winky tinky winky tink.

SOUND Q #9 -- Harp. PENNY: … Tammy was the only one in that crummy crack house Catholic school, I think, who actually believed in Jesus. So, she was all, like… into shaking hands with lepers -- or lesbians, as the case may be. EZRA enters in a tutu, spinning around fairy godmother-like. EZRA: (as Tammy) Look… the other kids make fun of you because you don’t wear, see or listen to anything cool. PENNY: … But… how do I become cool? EZRA: Only the Lord knoweth what is truly cool… Take this CD. If you listen to this -- all is forgiven. EZRA hands her a CD. Fade out sound. PENNY: I ran to my room. I put the CD in my player. Then… Ohhh, then… SOUND Q #10 -- Classical. She starts to hyperventilate, the crescendo of Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus plays. PENNY: Ohhh, my ears were lavished with a rhapsody of pure bliss. Musical ecstasy, I believe akin to the ascent of one’s soul rising towards the heavenly spheres! I was bathed in the melody of God and all His angels and cherubs. For at that instant I experienced rapture, only felt before by the likes of naked hermits in the desert. For it was that golden day I first heard… the boy band… Fade out sound. EZRA & PENNY: Seven Up! SOUND Q #11 -- Xanadu. SLIDE #4 -- Seven Up. Slide comes up of a boy band named Seven Up… They are next to a gas station, wearing singlets and jeans, looking all sexy and bad-ass. PENNY: Seven Up was founded in Orlando, Florida, after an international American talent search. The goal was to put five of the most talented men in a sound studio, with various composers, a choreographer, a designer --

EZRA: A chartered accountant. PENNY: And see what happened. Well, I’ll tell you what happened, people! … Seven Up! Fade out sound. PENNY: Seven Up consists of five members. There is Johnny Moon (trembles)… and four other guys: Sammy Thorndike, the preppy; Billy Benton, the jock; Tony Capelli, the bad boy; and Juan Carlito Ramirez… the… they only ever described him as the Spanish guy. Now, a lot of kids make fun of the fact that Seven Up only has five members… when the name Seven Up would lead one to assume they had -- I dunno -- seven members? EZRA: There are seven deadly sins: sloth, gluttony, envy, lechery, avarice, pride and wrath -- they encapsulate them all nicely. PENNY: And last, but definitely not least… Drum roll, Ez’! EZRA sputters his lips. SLIDE #5 -- Johnny on the Moon. SOUND Q #12 -- “Flower Duet.” Slide of Johnny Moon shoots up. The choral part of Delibes’s “Flower Duet” plays. PENNY: Ohhhhhh, Johhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnny Moon! Beat. PENNY stares at the picture for a long time, suddenly breaking into a dance. Drawn to the slide, she embraces it, to EZRA’s increased agitation. EZRA: (barking) RUFF RUFF! Fade out sound. PENNY: Everyone loves them, everyone, even Ezra, loves them! EZRA: Henry Ford created the assembly line, creating mass production, creating mass-marketed messiahs on crosses of Velcro… Seven Up: manufactured, soulless, hip-gyrating robots… hence, the true troubadours of globalization! Beat. PENNY: You see, Ezra loves them! So there I was in my room, listening to their debut track, “Sincerely Yours”… “For if my life is a love letter, that letter is yours, the end being signed… ‘Sincerely Yours.’”…

Okay, the first time I heard that song? … My heart’s getting all giddy and floody bloody right now… (to herself) Chill, Penny. Chill. (to the audience) I wish I could just sing you the song, but I can’t on account of my shrink… and the restraining order… I mean, how do you explain music. (EZRA produces a ukulele, hands it to PENNY.) Well, okay, lookit I did write this song… a song I composed after I heard “Sincerely Yours”… I play an instrument, this is my axe Shaneekwa. Okay, so here goes… (She plays the ukulele.) (singing) Every twenty-four hours or so, The earth it spins around, One part day, one part night, Depending where you’re standing on the ground. And in between the turning, Babies walking, talking, lesson learning, there might come one day when you resolve, (talking) What’s the point, we all die, and all love dissolves But then I hear you singing, (singing) No matter where you roam, You are not alone, All through history, Walking hand in hand in misery (talking) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before, but I feel we’ve met a hundred times in the republic of my dreams. I don’t want to freak you out of anything, but before your music… I thought I was destined to die alone… you know, to be one of those people that you read about in the papers that people only realize are dead because their bodies start to stink. But you restored my faith through your genius… I don’t just hear the most kick-ass awesome pop music ever… in your music, I can see history -- like, eternity -- and my place in it. For in your voice, I understand I am a note, in a bar, in a movement, of a song, of a symphony of music! A symphony that builds to an orgasmic, rapturous crescendo. A state of bliss so overbearing it literally hurts! Building, building, BUILDING, BUILDING, BUILDING, BUUUUUUUUUILDIIIIIIIIIING! … (singing) No matter where you roam, You are not alone, All throughout history, Walking hand in hand in misery And that’s the closest I can explain how I felt when I heard Johnny Moon sing “Sincerely Yours” for the first time. (unenthusiastic as hell) Oh… and Tony Capellu raps a little on it… Something like, “Champagne in the brain in Spain,” which was good… ish. ANYWAY, the band proved crazy prolific, producing over three short years a staggering hundred and sixty-eight albums, and that’s not even including their holiday albums -- Christmas, Easter, President’s Day -- EZRA: Ramadan.

PENNY: You couldn’t even swing a cat without hitting a Seven Up song. Radio, TV, internet chat rooms, key chains, T-shirts. I had finally tapped into something everyone liked. I was finally cool -- for, like, two seconds! EZRA: (pulling out the Barbies in the puppet theatre) Seven Up is so five minutes ago! All their songs sound like they were written by a retarded child on a Tilt-A-Whirl… the only ones who listen to them are, like, zit-faced Twinkies and -- PENNY: Lesbians, you were going to say. Lesbians, right? (The Barbies cackle.) Tee-hee, tee-hee. PENNY: The critical mass had turned on Seven Up, like a pack of Pharisees. SOUND Q #13 -- Tchaikovsky’s “Russian Dance.” PENNY: An angry toothless mob howling for their death! And all who believed in the universal message of “Love” were branded with the mark of Cain! Kids breaking into my room, writing little thought bubbles on my Johnny Moon posters saying, “I like it up the bum-bum” and “I like to suck pee-pee”! Only they didn’t write “pee-pee” or “bum-bum”! Johnny! Poor Johnny. A living walking set-up for an endless series of punchlines. Seven Up stuck together as long as they could -- soon doing only concerts in Eastern Europe. But then… tragedy struck. Billy Benton was swarmed by an angry throng of pre-teens in Moscow for his three-hundred-dollar tennis shoes -- dragged to the centre of Red Square -- and ripped apart like a chicken cutlet… Fade out sound. PENNY: After the funeral, the band broke up. Johnny tried to keep his dignity, but soon found himself… making celebrity testimonials in infomercials, singing songs about Viagra and vacuum cleaner nozzles.. then whoosh, he vanished! I wrote him a few times. EZRA: Three thousand, five hundred and sixty-seven times. PENNY: Right. And one day he sent me a real letter… and actual letter. Ezra! SOUND Q #14 -- Johnny’s letter. EZRA: (as Johnny) Dear Penny, thank you for being my greatest fan, my most loyal fan. In fact, these days, my only fan… Always keep the faith, girl… Sincerely yours, Johnny Moon-moon-moon… Headshot enclosed-closed-closed-closed. Beat.

PENNY pulls out his headshot and kisses it, on the verge of tears. PENNY: But then, then! After a painful year, feeling half-dead, I come across a small little ad in a crummy magazine… “Johnny Moon’s New Solo Album, soon to be released in an HMV near you!” A solo album? … A solo album?! A solo album! I wait two painstaking months! The day before his new release, I stayed up all night -- by the record store -- I wanted to be the first to hear his new magnum opus. Fade out sound. PENNY: I run into the record store, grab the CD and without looking I run home and throw it in my CD player! I throw on the first track… every cilium in my ears is taut with anticipation of Johnny’s unfettered muse breaking forth in all her glory! SOUND Q #15 -- Ezra’s rap. A haunting rap beat plays. EZRA enters with a microphone. He raps rhythmically -- but without any characterization of an actual rapper. EZRA: (toasting) Yo! Yo! This is JK-47, Been dope since 9/11 Yo, I’z gotz something to say that’s real rich, So listen up, bee-yotch. (rapping) So you’re looking at me, ya sucka’ MC? You wanna come at me like you’re fucking Bruce Lee? When you’re this big, bee-yotch, they call ya mistah, And if you don’t believe me, go and ask your sistah, If she’s not home I know another, Here’s a quarter, little bitch, go and call your mother, Yo! I got style, I gotz the grace, I go out with the ladies and I punch ‘em in the face, So rip off your panties, take off your bra, Tonight I’m going to fuck you wit’ my chainsaw. … Fuck you wit’ my chainsaw, fuck you wit’ my chainsaw, fuck you wit’ my chainsaw -- PENNY screams. Cut out sound. PENNY: (screaming) Urrgh! I can’t take it! ENOUGH! STOP! (trembling) Johnny’s Moon was now eclipsed… In his solo effort, sweet, loving Johnny had morphed into… EZRA & PENNY: JK-47! SOUND Q #16 -- JK-47 underbeat.

Sound plays out or fades. SLIDES #6 to #10 -- JK-47 (five slides of JK-47 in various gangsta poses). PENNY: (shaking) JK-47, a frat boy puking up solid black venomous bile, rubbing his dingle like it was his lucky rabbit’s foot. His new album called The 6 B’s! stood for booze, bluntz, the name for a female dog, the bling-bling and… no one knows what the last B stands for. I dunno? Band-Aids? Bosnia?! I listened to all twenty-six unrelenting tracks, with the relish of a Rabbi being force-fed a hotdog. Well it appeared little mister-potty-mouth had come up a long way from singing with a Sea Cow about “Eating your Broccoli.” And, of course, talking about his days growing up in the ‘hood. Yes -- his days in the mean old ‘hood. In -- Portland, OREGON! But I had faith this was a blip, a glitch, no one would actually subject themselves to this musical rape! … It wouldn’t sell, the critics would tear him apart, his fans would turn on him, he would -- EZRA: “Fuck You Wit’ My Chainsaw” became bigger than “Macarena,” “Who Let The Dogs Out” and “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” combined. PENNY: Every critic was heralding JK-47 as the Bob Dylan of our generation. Oh, I can see the comparison -- “The Times They Are A-Changin’” to “F’You Wit’ My Chainsaw.” EZRA: (as a critic, in the puppet booth) Five stars out of five. JK-47 is the real thing. He’s angry, he’s white and he just doesn’t give a fuck! PENNY: EZRA! “FUDGE,” NOT F-MM-UCK! EZRA: I just gangster rapped about copulating with a power tool. PENNY: Fine! And that… song! It was everywhere! Action figures of JK-47 and his ex-girl, Sandy… with a detachable head! OH SANDY came with many novel accessories a gal can’t be without these days -- a toe-tag and a fake suicide note for the cops! T-shirts! Pepsi cans! Even our own priest -- a man who referred to sex as “the Devil’s pilates” -- was now quoting the song liberally! And all the girls at that crummy school were all loving Johnny again! Of course! (to the audience) So all those domeless wonder girls are all, like -- EZRA: (Barbies, in the puppet theatre) Hey, Pen’, you still like JK-47? He’s so dreamy. PENNY: Yeah, you’d have a swell date with him, maybe he’d bring his chainsaw. EZRA: (Barbies) He’s being ironical. Gawd, you’re such a lesbian femi-Nazi. PENNY: Listen to me, Jezebels! You wouldn’t know irony if it crawled up your ass to start a soup kitchen -- to feed its three starving friends -- Wit! Integrity! and Intelligence! (to the audience) I was suspended

for saying the word “ass” -- Now, I lie in my room, glaring at the newspaper. I bought every newspaper I could find with JK-47. I couldn’t look away. It was a train wreck… Beat. PENNY: Anyway, I pick up and read the letter Johnny wrote me -- when he wasn’t the anti-Johnny… Blinded with tears, I can scarcely see, and I drop the letter. The letter lands on a paper from the Orlando Sentinel… announcing a CD-signing in JK-47’s new chain of nightclubs, (murmuring) the Bitch Slap… I look at it… Beat. PENNY: Of course! I love this man, I believe in this man, I have faith in this man! I adore this man! I didn’t want to go to Orlando! I just had to go… So I came up with this plan; Ezra, had some drug money… Johnny’s favorite coffee is a special blend, named after him. It’s called the Moonbeam, and only sold at the Space Needle in Seattle, Washington. EZRA & PENNY: The Moonbeam! A no-fat double latte -- EZRA: A thrilling mixture of Zapatista Dark Roast… PENNY: Castro Morning Blend… EZRA: Che Guevara Decaf, and the secret ingredient not disclosed -- EZRA & PENNY: On pain of death! PENNY: I would get his coffee… bring it to him -- and he would have no choice but to hear me out! I would go all the way to Johnny’s CD-signing at (mumbling) the Bitch Slap in Orlando… We had a week to get there by bus, and eight hundred and seventy dollars! EZRA: Several vials of Ritalin and Dexedrine. PENNY: By sundown we were on our way to the land of liberty -- SOUND Q #17 -- “Star-Spangled Banner.” EZRA: Silicone breasts and fundamentalists. EZRA & PENNY: Otherwise known as the USA! Sound fades out. PENNY: We took the bus. Ez’ wouldn’t fly with an American terror alert at level Ernie.

EZRA: The American Homeland Security Advisory System, for potential travelers to the USA. SLIDE #11 -- Homeland Security EZRA: Levels of terror, in order of safe to deadly, SOUND Q #18 -- Homeland Security Sound plays out. EZRA: Oscar the Grouch, you can slouch; Cookie Monster, do not stir; Bert, be very pert; Ernie, pack a gurney… Lastly, Tickle Me Elmo, take a bow, chump, it’s time to go… PENNY: Ez’ won’t fly at any terror rating higher than a Cookie Monster. Anyway! We board a Greyhound for our cross-country pilgrimage! I am giddy with the anticipation… Wondering… Would I, like Kerouac, find the true spirit of this American land? … We arrive at the -- EZRA & PENNY: United States border crossing! PENNY: Now the nice customs officer -- EZRA: A total jingoistic bastard. PENNY: Well, he wanted to know why two young people were traveling without the accompaniment of a parental unit, he went up to Ezra and said, (in customs voice, holding a He-Man action figure) “Aren’t you two a little bit young to be traveling by yourselves?” EZRA: (to PENNY) I’ll handle this… (to customs of icer) Hello, my good man, excellent work you’re doing keeping the Hun at bay. This is for you. EZRA slips some money in PENNY’s hand. PENNY: I don’t take bribes -- and besides, that’s only a Loonie. Look, son, where are your parents? EZRA: Well, if you really must know… (crying) SOUND Q #19 -- Sentimental music. EZRA: This is very hard to speak about, you understand -- tragic really -- they were taking a cruise to Israel… when… the ship was seized… they were both tortured and killed by agents of the… Al-Qaeda… Penny wants to light a candle in Salt Lake City… You see, we’re devout Mormons. My father always said he’d rather be a pile of ashes in America than alive anywhere else in the world. Daddy…

Sound fades out. SOUND Q #20 -- “American Woman.” Sound fades out. EZRA & PENNY: Seattle, Washington. The Evergreen State. PENNY: Thirty-one endangered species, including the Grizzly Bear. SLIDE #12 -- Homeland Security EZRA: Terror alert has sunk to a balmy Cookie Monster. PENNY: We get off the bus, and I run to the Space Needle; with money in hand, I ask for a pound of the Moonbeam. It cost a bit. EZRA: A hundred and twenty dollars. PENNY: But well worth it for its rich aromatic blend of famous Latin American revolutionaries. I wondered what the secret ingredient is. Well, after the coffee… well, we kind of already spent our money, so we started -- EZRA: Hustling my medication for dead presidents. PENNY: We just went up to people, struck up conversations, and Ezra’s concentration pills sold like hotcakes… By the end of the day we had enough money for two bus tickets and a meal at McDonald’s! EZRA & PENNY: Ohhhh, McDonald’s! PENNY: You see, we kids at Elysium never, I mean ever, got to go to the “McDonald’s,” that was like a cardinal sin. Eating at McDonald’s was like -- EZRA: Drinking your grandfather’s semen. PENNY: Ugh, Ez’… Okay, gross. Gross! SLIDE #13 -- McDonald’s. A slide comes up of PENNY and EZRA standing outside McDonald’s. PENNY: So we actually got to go to the Golden Arches for the first time! Anyway, it was super awesome. The music! The sights! The sounds! We hadn’t even had anything like a Pepsi before. Now, I’m a pescetarian -- which means I only eat fish; even though I feel bad for them, I can’t relate to them at all. So

I had the Filet-O-Fish and Ezra got the Chicken McNuggets Happy Meal. We never had Happy Meals before; they’re super awesome! EZRA: They made me… happy. PENNY: They came with free toys! Free cross-promotional toys! EZRA: I got Action Man on a snowmobile. PENNY: I got Rapping Rock ‘n’ Roll Barbie. Seattle rules! We waved goodbye to the Space Needle and all the good people we dealt concentration pills to and boarded the Greyhound. Dance transition. SOUND Q #21 -- LA. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Los Angeles, California! The Golden State! PENNY: One hundred and eleven endangered species, including the Kangaroo Rat. SLIDE #14 - Homeland Security. EZRA: Terror alert miraculously drops to lovely Oscar the Grouch! PENNY: A whopping one hundred milligrams of Ritalin and Dexedrine. EZRA & PENNY: We go to McDonald’s for Happy Meals. SLIDE #15 -- McDonald’s. PENNY: I get Hollywood Hair Barbie. EZRA: I get a Fry Guy in a fire truck. It amused me. He laughs for the first time in the entire play, a stifled unnatural laugh. PENNY: We say goodbye to all the famous people in LA and board the Greyhound. Dance transition. SOUND Q #22 -- Las Vegas.

Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Las Vegas, Nevada! The Silver State! PENNY: There are twenty-six endangered species, including the Virgin River Chub. SLIDE #16 -- Homeland Security. EZRA & PENNY: Two hundred milligrams of Ritalin and Dexedrine. PENNY: We go to McDonald’s. Get Happy Meals. SLIDE #17 -- McDonald’s. PENNY: I get Babe the Pig. I ask if I can get a toy that isn’t actually on the menu. EZRA: I get a condom. SOUND Q #23 -- Utah. Dance transition. Restore. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Salt Lake City, Utah. PENNY: Mormon central. EZRA & PENNY: (danger trill) Dun-dun-daaaaaa! Ten-second pause, as the kids freeze in pose. PENNY: Mormons are creepy. Twenty-one endangered species, including the Utah Valvata Snail. SLIDE #18 -- Homeland Security. EZRA: Due to a scandal in Washington, terror alert rises to a freezing Bert. PENNY: No concentration pills are sold. SLIDE #19 -- McDonald’s. EZRA & PENNY: We both get Mormon pamphlets in our Happy Meals.

EZRA: Making me extremely un-happy. In fact, downright fuck -- SOUND Q #24 -- Texas. Dance transition. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: San Antonio, Texas! The Lone Star State! PENNY: Twenty-eight endangered species, including the Helotes Mold Beetle. SLIDE #20 -- Homeland Security. EZRA: The Terror has begun. TICKLE ME ELMO’S REIGN OF NATIONAL TERROR HAS NOW BEGUN! EZRA & PENNY: Ten milligrams of Ritalin. PENNY: We go to McDonald’s. Get Happy Meals. I get Cool Country Barbie. EZRA: I got a junior membership to the NRA. SOUND Q #25 -- Alabama. Sound plays out. EZRA & PENNY: Montgomery, Alabama! Yellowhammer State! PENNY: There are eighty-eight endangered species, including the Cumberland Monkeyface. SLIDE #21 -- Homeland Security. EZRA: Ugh! To be in Alabama while Elmo’s red furry paw has the country by the nuts. PENNY: I get a crushed beer can. EZRA: I get a Jim Crow Let’s Go A-lynchin’ Kit. SOUND Q #26 -- Florida. Dance transition. Sound plays out.

EZRA & PENNY: Orlando, Florida! The Sunshine State! AT LAST! ANNNNNNND JAZZ HANDS! They do jazz hands. PENNY: There are fifty-six endangered species, including the Choctawhatchee Beach Mouse. EZRA: And American-style democracy. PENNY: Well, we were pretty stinky, having been on the bus for seven days. I wanted to get to a Howard Johnson for a bath, a nap and some other food. Any food other than McDonald’s. EZRA: I was developing the first stages of scurvy. PENNY: When we get to the room I take a shower. I plop into the bed, but I can’t sleep! So I get my Sincerely Yours CD… and then we walk down to the local Starbucks and pay them twenty dollars to make the Moonbeam. We leave with a steaming batch of the brew in our ultra-seal Thermos -- that way it will remain hot for up to twelve hours. EZRA: Steaming, boiling, piping-hot Moonbeam. Remember that. PENNY: We arrive in line at the (murmuring) Bitch Slap. There is a line-up like -- EZRA: A sparkly line of white suburban boys in baseball caps and squishy shoes. PENNY: Oh BOY! All these guys are going to be in for a big surprise after I get to him. I wait for three hours in line, with the patience of a sphinx. EZRA pulls out a baby doll in a bonnet, who represents the bouncer. EZRA: (in home-boy, with puppet) Yo! You got any ID? PENNY: ID? EZRA: (home-boy baby) You need ta’ be twenty-one to get into the Bitch Slap. PENNY: But… I’ve come… all the way from Uranium City, Saskatchewan. EZRA: (baby) Don’t madder to me. No ID, no entry. Ged’ away from the door, bitch! (to PENNY) Let me handle this. EZRA falls down on the ground and has a seizure.

PENNY: (mechanically) Oh my God! That little boy is having a seizure! We must get him on his stomach before he swallows his tongue… (to the audience) The bouncer goes to Ezra. I sneak into the (murmuring) Bitch Slap. SOUND Q #27 -- Club beat. EZRA gets up and begins arranging his human size puppet in a chair. The puppet resembles JK-47, all macked out with a tennis hat cocked to one side and gold chains. The puppet should be revolting-looking, like a corpse with decaying flesh. On its shoulder EZRA places his monkey puppet, who acts as D-Dawg. PENNY: Strobe lights are flashing. It’s covered with a throng of pimple-faced scowling white kids in parkas, looking down at their feet, grabbing their dingles through their oversized jeans. I’ve never been to a bathhouse before, but this certainly feels like one. There is a short line leading to a solid white desk. I can hear Johnny’s voice, his real, live flesh-and-blood voice! She turns. PENNY: I see him! … Look, girls, he’s even dreamier in person! He’s sitting in his chair scowling as he signs CDs, without looking up. I recognize his sidekick from his new album, D-Dawg, As I walk up to him, my legs buckle. I feel as if I could tell him everything and nothing at the same time. Yet the moment I see his blue eyes look into mine, I know this is going to go just swell. PENNY proudly walks up to JK-47 holding her Thermos. She is nervous and smiling. She slides her Sincerely Yours CD onto his desk. She plays the rest of the scene to the audience, as though she is facing JK-47. PENNY: (really fast) Hello, I’m Penny Lamb, your greatest, greatest fan. Oh God! I feel like I have so much to say to you, I could explode… Would you believe I’ve come all the way from Uranium City, Saskatchewan to see you -- that’s in Canada -- and, no, I don’t have a dogsled -- bad joke -- I’m so nervous -- I was homeschooled -- I mean until they sent me to this school where everyone called me a lesbian. Anyway, along the way I picked up something very special. Mr. Johnny Moon, in this airtight Thermos is your… Moonbeam. Taa-daa! Yes, your favorite drink, brought alllll the way here to you, for you, by me. With the secret ingredient that cannot be revealed on pain of death. A gift from me… to you. For the gift you gave me. For because of you, I know something about true love. Look, I don’t believe in good and evil -- I think believing you are, like, an evil, rotten little dude in a black hat who thinks he’s so darn good that he can, I dunno, blow people up? -- But I do believe in love and hate. There are two roads to go down, Johnny… There is the Lover Lane, or the Super Hate Highway. I fear -- because the world’s been so heartless to you -- you’ve gone down the latter. Beat. PENNY smiles at the puppet. The puppet begins shaking its head.

EZRA: (manipulating JK-47) Get this bee-yotch out’ here ‘for I smack this crazy-ass ho. PENNY: Wh-wha… What?! EZRA: (JK-47) Yo’z heard me, bee-yotch, I got no time for no shiznit from no corny-ass teeny boppahs. I’m JK-47! (referring to a character of stage) T-Bone! Get this ho out of hee-rah. (EZRA manipulates the monkey puppet as D-Dawg, who has a high voice.) Yah, he don’t got time for you, he’s JK-47. T-Bone, T-Bone! PENNY: B-b-b-but I brought you a coffee all the way from the Space Needle. EZRA: Yo, Skeezah, I gotz a closet full of that shyyit. I’m JK-47! T-Bone! (monkey puppet) He’s JK-47! T-Bone! T-BONE! T-BONE! PENNY: Yes, but… it… doesn’t have the secret ingredient… It couldn’t! They’d kill whoever leaked it. EZRA: (JK-47) Bitch, it’s cinnamon! Even D-Dawg know that, and he’s a crackhead. Boo-ya! I’m JK-47! T-BONE! PENNY: Cinnamon… I-I-I-I’ve traveled all that way… for cinnamon. EZRA: (monkey puppet) It’s cimamin, even I know that, and I’m a crackhead. It’s cimamin. T-BONE! T-BONE! Beat. PENNY begins to cry. EZRA: (JK-47) What? You g’wan cry… little skank. Smack you up, beee-yotch, ‘cause I’m -- PENNY: JK-47! YES! I BELIEVE THAT’S BEEN (containing) established. She pulls out her letter. PENNY: Just -- here, I haven’t read you my letter yet. It’s really quick. (reading) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before, but I feel we’ve met a hundred times in the republic of my -- EZRA: (monkey puppet) T-Bone! T-Bone! PENNY: (to the audience) T-BONE finally enters, all 350 pounds of him! I can hear his footfalls over the music, he’s like an albino King Kong! All the suburban boys form a circle around me, swearing, grabbing

their dingles, spitting! I have to read this letter! (to JK-47) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before, but I feel

EZRA: (JK-47) I’m JK-47! T-BONE! (monkey puppet) He’s JK-47! T-BONE! T-BONE!

PENNY: Dear Johnny, we haven’t met -- (to the audience) T-BONE grabs me. Ezra leaps on T-BONE, knocking him to the ground. Ezra disappears in the folds of massive flesh, like a ball-bearing dropped in a vat of vanilla pudding! (to JK-47) Dear Johnny, we haven’t met before but -- PENNY: (reading) Hello, my NAME is PENNY LAMB and -- EZRA: (JK-47) What are you, anyway, bee-yotch? (monkey puppet) T-Bone! T-Bone! PENNY: Hello, my name is Penny Lamb, we haven’t met before -- EZRA: I know’z what you be, ho! PENNY: Hell -- EZRA: (JK-47) You be one of them… lesbians. You be one of them -- PENNY: Right. Hello, my name -- EZRA: (JK-47) Femamist lesbian. PENNY: Hello, my name is… She turns to the puppet. Fade out sound. PENNY: What did you just say? EZRA: (JK-47) … I said, you iz… a femamist… lesbian. (monkey puppet) Femamist lesbian, femamist lesbian, (echo) lesbian, lesbian, lesbian… lesbian… lesbian… PENNY: You see, that’s what I thought you said. SOUND Q #28 -- Epic build. The sound of a clap of thunder. “Montagues and Capulets” by Prokofiev plays. PENNY is suddenly bathed in a red spotlight. PENNY turns slowly to the audience with a wide psychotic expression on her face, both her knuckles balled up. PENNY: (hissing) Hello, my name is Penny Lamb… and I know FOR A FACT… we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting before… For you, my deep-fried messiah, are about to be welcomed to a level of leveling you have yet to revel, for now I, Penny Lamb, am the Devil… come now to SEND YOU TO THE REPUBLIC OF…. HELL.

Ohhhh! THE FAITH YOU create as an attraction MUST PROVIDE SATISFACTION… AND… OR… HELL… For now I do not merely want to hurt you, Johnny… No, no, no… Mm-mm. I want… to TASTE YOU. Bite! Into your flesh with my incisors. Have your skin corrode in the BOILING lava cauldron that is now my stomach! PENNY IS ECLIPSED! THE BURNING SUN HAS PASSED OVER THE PASSIVE MOON! I can vomit fire.

She turns and throws the contents of the Thermos (brown confetti) in the puppet’s face. She grabs it by the head. I! … CAN! … VOMIT! … (screaming) FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE! Fade out sound. She sinks her teeth into the puppet and disappears behind the desk. The lights go back to normal. EZRA stands on the stage blinking. EZRA stares at the audience awkwardly. He picks up his monkey and holds it nervously… Suddenly, he comes up with an idea. EZRA: Ladies and Gentlemen. In these troubled times! I know the question on all your lips. A question for which tonight I shall provide you with satisfaction. For now for the first time in the history of mankind, we shall dare to ask the question! Can a mere puppet break the theatrical fourth wall -- the wall between audience and performer. SOUND Q #29 -- Monkey. Sound plays out. A drum roll plays. EZRA opens up his puppet theatre. His monkey stands in the puppet theatre in profile. The monkey ever-so-slowly turns its head to the audience. The drum roll stops. To the sound of roaring applause, the monkey bows and exits the puppet theatre. PENNY stands up sheepishly, with a waning smile, holding a piece of paper. PENNY: (sheepishly) Anyway… um… after that whole Johnny cheek-biting incident thingy… fortunately for me, Johnny’s public relations firm thought it best that he drop all of the charges.

Apparently, JK-47 having the caa-caa beaten out of him by some fifteen-year-old girl, what with him being a “stone-cold bad-ass who shoots people to watch them bleed” -- that was pretty bad for his “rep”… Anyway. I was extradited back to Canada. But sadly… the story was leaked to the major media. It ruined JK-47’s “street cred” and they have some new “stone-cold, bad-ass” flavour-of-the-month now… I dunno… Ron the Rapping Rapist, or something… And… I was kind of famous for a bit. They even made a movie of the week of my real, live true-life story… JoJo played me. EZRA: I was played by one of the Culkin boys. PENNY: Anyway, I stood trial for drug dealing -- they gave me probation. And that’s when Miss Peachery -- my social worker -- asked me to talk to you all here tonight. To teach you all how to be better citizens… and never turn out like me… And I’ve got some lessons for you. (slowly) Never shoplift, jaywalk, beat up kids, swear, knock on people’s doors and run, be mean to overweight people, talk back to your parents. Stop, drop and roll. Never let your uncle touch you in places you feel uncomfortable with. Don’t do drugs, Unless they are prescribed by a licensed practitioner of the psychiatric profession… and… Lastly, I want to say I know something about true love. And I know most of you guys wouldn’t think I would… ‘Cause I’m, like, this psycho cannibal kid… But this… this is something I’ve thought about my entire life, okay? So. True Love. True love is, like, when they call you up and tell you, “Oh my God, my Mongolian Gerbil just died!” You’re not all, like, “My condolences” or “My heart goes out to you in your time of need.” Like some toy robot that can wind itself up… barfing out ten shiny socially acceptable stock phrases. No, when your true love calls… it goes way beyond that. Way. SOUND Q #30 -- Music Box. Sound plays out. PENNY: Like, when they call you up and say, “My mom is a cud-mulching cow,” their mom is a cud-mulching cow. But when they call you back and say, “I changed my mind, my mom is an angel with gossamer wings.” Guess what, their mom is an angel with gossamer wings… Oh, and I really like that word… “gossamer.” There are some really amazing words in English -- for such a crummy language… Anyway… Okay let me put it to you straight and simple because we don’t got all day, and everybody’s got to get places. (whispering, slowly) In a world where we are ultimately alone, and die in our own arms, love is the closest you come to another person… because it is the closest you come to being another person. So be very careful what you love.

Beat. PENNY: Penny Lamb. Aspiring animal conservationist. Signing out. Beat. PENNY: You got anything to add, Ez’? EZRA: Yes… Wrestling is real -- it’s the world that’s set up. Beat. PENNY: (brightly) Hm. Blackout. SOUND Q #31 -- Curtain call.

it is once again, little gay people in my phone, that i bid you a fond farewell <3

[make-me-imagine]

'Tis the Season

13 Days of Halloween: Day 2

Plot: While decorating the firehouse for Halloween, you and the crew carve some pumpkins.

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 625; very short I know, but it's cute I swear!

-

You lightly bit your tongue as you carved out another piece of the pumpkin. You smiled softly as the outline of the haunted house became more clear.

Hearing a thud nearby, you looked over to see Chimney drop another box of decorations on the floor.

"What did we do, raid a Spirit Halloween or something?" He asked as Bobby walked past.

"'Tis the season Chim." Bobby commented with a smile.

"Yeah, right, and how many pumpkins do we need?" He continued to complain as he looked around a the various pumpkins that had already been carved.

"Come on Chimney, I thought you liked Halloween?" Buck called out from across the table.

"I do, I just think this is a bit a bit much."

"He's only mad because he tripped over a pumpkin and spilled his latte." You said with a smirk.

"It wasn't a latte, it was a cappuccino, and it cost me like seven bucks." He defended as he placed his hand on his hips.

You and Hen locked eyes for a moment before you both rolled your eyes and chuckled.

"Then it serves you right." Hen said as she put up the Halloween fundraiser sign out front.

You smirked as Chimney grumbled. "Why don't you carve your own pumpkin, it's fun." You suggested.

Chimney frowned "No, thanks. I already carved some with Maddie the other night, I can't get the smell off my hands."

"And, done!" Buck called out as he finished his last pumpkin.

Chimney, walking up behind him stared at it for a moment "Ah, look at that...Michael Jackson."

"What?" Buck said with obvious offense and he looked back at Chimney "It's not Michael Jackson!"

Eddie, walking over looked at it for a moment "Yeah Chimney, it's clearly Madonna."

Buck sighed "It's not Madonna either."

You chuckled "Let me see."

Buck, turned it around, and you and Hen stared at it for a moment.

You assumed it had something to do with Halloween, so you shrugged lightly.

"Michael Myers?"

The others made noises of shared agreement but Buck just sighed and shook his head.

"No, it- it's supposed to be you." He looked at you with mild defeat.

You felt touched at the idea he tried to carve your portrait, but looking at it again, you repressed a soft laugh.

From beside you, Hen let out a "Oooh" as she nodded her head "I can see it!" She said, obviously lying.

"Yeah, no no I can see it now too." Eddie said with an amused smile.

"Okay, I get it, it sucks." Buck said as he turned the pumpkin back around.

"Yeah, it does." Chimney said as he patted Buck's shoulder and walked away.

Buck frowned as he looked at the pumpkin again.

You smiled to yourself as you quickly finished your own pumpkin, carving out the last detail. You set it down with the others you had carved. A ghost, a classic jack-o-lantern, and now the haunted house.

Looking over at Buck, he was still staring at his pumpkin in disappointment. You smiled softly and walked over to him. Sitting on his lap, you looked down at the pumpkin again.

"It really doesn't look like you does it?" He asked softly.

You repressed a smile but met his eyes and shook your head "Not at all. But-" you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek "-it's the thought that counts."

He smiled softly as he stared at it a bit longer "God, it does look like Michael Myers."

You chuckled and nodded your head before you leaned further against him, and he wrapped his arm around you.

"If anyone asks, that's what it was always meant to be." He added on in a whisper.

"'Tis the season." You said lightly mocking Bobby as Buck let out a soft breathy laugh.

xx End xx

Simple and short, hope you enjoyed.

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

911/Buck Taglist: @spuffyfan394, @webreathfandoms, @locke-writes, @persephonesportal, @pockyandme, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @iinmysights, @that-marvel-simp, @bellarkeselection, @shiftingwh0r3, @rqmanoff

[twosroos]

Attempting

roos says ! is this in character? no idea. rooster plays a big role here bc i can imagine him being fed up with everyones shit very quickly. also fanboy playing guitar is such a good idea i love it. also this being called 'how guitar??' in my docs is rlly funny to me, thought I'd share :)

desc ! you've worked at the Hard Deck for a few years now, and everyday you swear you fall more in love with your job. Little do you know, the Daggers are enacting a plan on Fanboy's behalf-- an attempt to swoon you with live music.

genre ! pure fluff baby

TWs: drunkenness, cursing

Being a server at The Hard Deck was probably one of the best post-college decisions you had made. In the past three years that you'd worked there, Penny had become more of a mother than a boss, and your co-workers were like sisters. The restaurant was one hundred percent your second home, and if you found yourself bored at home, there was always something to be done there. It was not the only job you had, freelance didn't pay consistently enough though, so you found yourself working at both The Hard Deck and a small boat rental company on the shore for vacationing families in San Diego. Moving to California right after graduation was the worst post-college decision you had made. Rent was high, jobs were hard to come by, and even with your three roommates in your two-bedroom apartment, you still struggled to make every end meet. But you made it work, with the help of your co-workers, your perseverance, and a shit-ton of luck you somehow had. The day was winding to an end, the golden sun cresting over the ocean and shimmering the day's goodbye across the sky in vibrant hues. You snuck a picture on your phone, sending it to your roommates with an inside joke caption before you shoved it in your apron and adjusted your shirt. The low-cut v-necks were a new uniform piece, and optional compared to the usual button-up shirts or the custom company tees. The cut didn't bother you, but, as you served around a group of regulars-- the Iron Daggers, you'd come to call them, since it was their Squadron's nickname, you caught the eyes of the man who simply would not stop staring at you since you'd served him months ago. Fanboy, his name tag read, and luckily for you, it was a busy Saturday, so you didn't have to keep his dark eyes gaze with his soft grin pushing up his tanned cheeks, and ugh, why was he so... perfect? 

He was nice, you'd spoken a few times. He was from New Hampshire, hated the cold, and moved to California the second he got the opportunity to. He was in the Navy now, and you respected his line of work but weren't the type to settle down. Even years after graduating with a master's degree in Architecture, you still needed to land a solid job you could keep. And nothing in this area was lasting you longer than six months, or it paid job-to-job, which you fucking hated. Sure, it was nice to have a couple of thousand dollars dropped in at once, but it wasn't sustainable for your compulsive buying habits.

You made your way back to the servers station, tugging up the v-neck and huffing, reminding yourself mentally to wash your other work shirts when you got home. As you stood on your toes to grab a pitcher, someone else kicked open the swinging door and groaned as they set down the various plastic baskets of fries on the dish shelf.

"How long do you think we'll go until the jukebox gets shuts off?" A fellow server, Savannah, asks as she starts dumping the fries into the trash and the plastic bins into a dish tray. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a perfect ponytail, the whispy hairs framing her face. She always looked so flawless, it made you a bit jealous, but you knew she'd taken a lot of time to care for and nurture her look. She did a wonderful job.

"Give them two rounds." Amelia comments from the other side of the server station, she's propped up on a counter, idly typing away on her laptop with one earbud in. You chuckle to yourself as you carry the two pitchers in one hand over to the other side of the kitchen, throwing a towel over your shoulder as you grab ice from the cooler and a scoop for the ice. You bend over to begin filling up your pitchers.

"Your mom would be pissed if she saw you on that counter, Amelia." You comment, moving the full pitcher to the side as you fill the other. Savannah walks over to a small mirror in the station and adjusts her hair and makeup as she chuckles along to your comment. 

Amelia pointedly rolls her eyes, "She's with Maverick today."

"Oh god, another woman lost to the Navy." Savannah salutes and you blow a huff out of your nose with a smirk, rolling your eyes as you use a small "drink gun" (which was essentially a soda fountain in a hose) to fill your pitchers. The six kids there were absolutely downing every small cup you gave them, so this would be easier, for you and their parents who had to flag you down every five seconds.

"Be careful, Y/n might be next." Amelia looks at you over her laptop screen, "I saw Fanboy checking you out."

"That's a him issue." You say, "And I refuse to date Navy."

Savannah turns back to you with an overexaggerated pout, "Awe, why not? Fanboy's cute!"

"Nope, no Navy." You say, and then you perk up when you realize the music had stopped at some point during your conversation, "Are the Daggers on their first round still?"

"Just got the second from Macie at the bar. Shit, it took that little time?"

"Unsurprising." Amelia smiles, putting her second earpod in. You grab both of the pitchers, shrugging to Savannah in a sort of 'we knew this would happen gesture which she giggles at before you dip out of the kitchen with the pitchers in hand.

Now, what usually happened when the jukebox got unplugged was Rooster would saunter over to the piano and serenade everyone with Great Balls of Fire. But that was not what was happening, because someone was playing the guitar.

Who the fuck brought their guitar to a dive bar?

You recognized the tune immediately though, it's 'I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For,' a song you'd loved for as long as you could remember, and you recalled you'd been humming it only an hour or so ago when the Iron Daggers had first walked in. Which you only remembered because Fanboy had commented on it then. As you set the pitchers down at the table of kids, the Mom smiles.

"Those aviators always surprise me with their talents." She whispers as if trying not to interrupt the pretty acoustics. You can't help but agree, watching the mostly tipsy aviators sing and sway over by the piano's nook. Rooster joins on piano, and the whole bar starts to hum along. It's a lot slower than usual, but the joy in singing and being together is clear on everyone's smiling faces.

Then, you realize who's playing guitar as you see his eyes meet yours across the dimly lit bar.

"I didn't know he could play." You say the mother and she smiles, turning to her husband and singing as you find yourself entranced as you slowly move a bit closer to where the aviators sit. Fanboy plays the guitar nimbly, his fingers not once dragging along the frets as he strums the tune out. Subconsciously, you smile, before realizing just how long you've held eye contact and breaking it in favor of slipping away and further into the bar.

--

The next time the daggers are in the bar, Phoenix, Halo, and Coyote are seated at the bar while you're working behind it. The three have ordered enough alcohol to support a small army, which you assume is the pilots behind them, plus a few older pilots you don't recognize. You spot Maverick between two men you don't notice, both have their wives draped lazily on their arms, and pool ques go unused in their hands as they drink and talk with the younger pilots beside them.

"Did Mickey really bring his guitar again?" You hear Coyote ask as you pour him a B52 shot to go with his coffee.

"Head over heels." Halo comments, taking a sip of her cosmo, "He's fuckin' whipped into shape and she has no idea."

"Who do you think it is?" You ask, sliding the shot to Coyote and the look Phoenix and Halo share is enough to cut diamonds. It makes you shift, "Nevermind, the jukebox is currently being unplugged by a drunk mustache man."

"Oh boy." Phoenix takes a long sip of her drink, and her glass sets down on the wooden bar in time with the first strum of a Grenade. You blink, looking across the bar to where you watch the drunk pilots sing together.

"Oh, I love Bruno Mars." You softly muse and Phoenix makes a face at Coyote and Halo that has them both groaning and laying their heads on the bar. You roll your eyes and lean back on the bar, watching the group.

It keeps happening for weeks, every shift you work, at least Hangman, Payback, and Rooster show up with Fanboy. And every time, after Fanboy's had at least two drinks, he plays a song. Sometimes Rooster initiates the song, but the night always starts with beer. Usually either Blue Moon or Bud Light. You find that every shift, you begin to wonder when they'll come in, and every shift you feel yourself slowly spending more and more time by the piano area. You end up getting the front of the house as your section every night, you know Penny does it on purpose.

Tonight's like any other, drunk pilots, bell ringing, spilling beer and soda on your hands and shoes, blue cheese, wing sauce, basically any liquid-like substance making you have to stop and wash your hands a hundred times through the night. But, The Hard Deck closes at midnight, and at around 11:50, all the regulars know to leave. Which makes all the others swarming the bar also want to leave. Tonight seems to be an exception for the Iron Daggers, though. They all hang back by the bar, chatting with Penny and Macie and you find yourself in a gossip circle as you take a stool from the bar and seat yourself. Your closing work is done, and you've done just about everything else for the Sunday night closing work besides mopping the floor, which you have to wait for everyone to leave to start. You have no responsibilities right now, so a soda by the bar won't hurt.

"He won't shut up about it." Phoenix laughs, swirling the wine in her hand. You know it's a local wine from a place Penny had visited in New Jersey years ago based on the fact that you'd heard the woman complaining she needed to sell it all before it went bad and the new shipment came in. And then she'd cursed Navy people for not drinking wine, while you were two glasses in, and you'd laughed so hard you almost puked. It was a... long day.

"Who won't shut up about what?" you ask as you slip behind the bar and use the soda gun to pour yourself a Coke.

"Fanboy's got a massive crush." A very drunk Bob says.

"Shots with Omaha got him again?" Penny teases and Bob crosses his arms before laying his head on them as he grumbles some sort of complaint that makes you laugh softly.

"Anyway, Y/n." Phoenix swats Bob's shoulder, "How do you enjoy serving us every single night?"

"I don't mind, actually. You guys always have something fun going on, and it's entertaining to watch it. Though I'm starting to wonder if all pilots magically have some sort of musical ability," You take a long sip of your drink while Bob laughs, sitting back up, swaying, and then laying back down.

"Only when they're trying to serenade-"

"Floyd." Phoenix cuts him off, "You're terrible at keeping secrets while drunk."

"Oh sorry," Bob says with a flush to his cheeks and a giddy giggle on his lips. You blink away, Savannah taking control of the conversation with a story about a table she had today. You look over to where Fanboy, Hangman, and Rooster sit and talk by the darts. But your eyes narrow when you see Rooster making some sort of vague hand motions at you. Before Fanboy slumps against the table, Hangman laughs.

"Hey, Y/n!" Rooster calls, waving you over, much to the visible dismay of Fanboy. You make your way back around the bar and over to where they sit, swirling your drink in hand.

"Gonna have to kick you boys out as soon as we get Bob a ride home." You say as you walk over, using one hand to adjust your server's aprons, feeling the fabric bump against the few decorative rings you wear.

"Yeah, well Fanboy needs one too." Rooster smacks his shoulder and you give him an odd look.

"Okay..?"

"Y/n. I have a..." Hangman drawls out and you watch as Fanboy's head perks up from where it had previously been buried in his arms, "a question."

"Fire away." You take a sip of your coke.

"Are you free Friday night?" You nearly spit out said coke. It takes you a minute, and a few coughs, to regain your posture.

You clear your throat, taking another sip of Coke to wash down the scratchiness, "Not for you."

"Sucks to suck, bags." Fanboy says and you giggle at his comment when he notices you see his whole face light up red. It looks cute, the way his pupils dilate when you make eye contact, and his insult dies in his throat.

Rooster kicks Hangman under the table, making another vague gesture between you and Fanboy. 

"Yo loverboy," Hangman kicks Fanboy, and Rooster groans, burying his head in his hands, "Follow me up, here, we had a plan."

"A plan?" You say, the three drunk pilots (with Rooster, for once, being the soberest of the group) blinking up at you.

"You ruined it, bagman." Fanboy sits up, brushing a hand through his hair, "I uh... well, I was also wondering if you're free Friday."

"Well, I wish I was. I have work." You say, watching as Fanboy sags, so you keep going, "You can always bring your guitar back around here if you want to hang out a bit."

Rooster's short patience wears out, "Y/n. You're both clueless here. Mickey beside me is askin' you on a date, like a one-on-one thing here."

Oh.

Oh.

"I--" You stammer, but Rooster keeps going.

"He's been spending the past three weeks tryna serenade you or some shit because he claims its super romantic but it literally hasn't worked one time and I'm sick of hearing him complain about it--"

"--Bradshaw!" Phoenix complains from the bar, he pretends to not hear her.

"For the love of god, go on one date with him or something."

"Dude." Fanboy says after a moment, and Hangman has to walk away because he's laughing so hard.

"You've been..." You gesture to Fanboy and he nods, so you turn to Penny who gives you a thumbs up.

"Guess I'm free Friday then." You murmur and he smiles.

--

Every day since then, save for the days of the Uranium Mission and other small deployments, has been a bit of a musical breeze. It's only been two months, but dear god you've never fallen faster for someone. The pilots still come around to the Hard Deck, though, if you're not closing and you get off early, you always end up tucked in a back corner with Fanboy's hand on your waist. It's become routine for you guys to spend time at your house since he lives on base, and his guitar always comes with him. When you're cooking for him on days he comes back from training exhausted, laying around on the couch or outside with him, or with his multitude of friends, there's always a tune playing in your ear.

And honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

[peyton-warren]

Blinded by The Fog Part 3

Characters: Jolene, Captain Syverson and Reader. Mention of Jake Jensen, other Losers and OCs related to the Losers. Pairings: Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 2579 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. Loss of spouse and found family. Pregnancy, discussion of infertility, drinking, swearing. Summary: In helping Jolene, Reader fights against her own feelings. Sy stops by to check on Reader. Author's Note: Much appreciation to @adulting-sucks who has held my hand and cheer me on as I struggled with this chapter. <3

Ask Box: Open Series Masterlist Masterlist

Chapter 2

“Are you going to want to know the gender today?” the doctor asked as she looked up from the screen of the ultrasound machine.  

Jolene looked at you for reassurance, your hands tightly clasped together at her side on the exam table.  You blinked back your own tears as you watched one slip down her cheek. Jolene missed her husband as much as you missed your own, only she had more constant reminders with each examination, each test, each inch her belly grew.  She had confided in you a few weeks ago she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep the baby, much less find out the gender.  Without Pooch, it was going to be hard for her to raise this child alone, even with promised help from you and Madre.  Deep in her heart, she confessed, she thought it would be best for everyone if she gave the baby up for adoption.  

You had done your best to console her, promise her you would help as much as you could, and not just with doctor appointments and birthing classes, but with raising the child. What you hadn’t told Jolene was that her predicament broke your heart twice over.  Yes she faced raising a child without her husband, but she had a piece of her husband in her belly.  You and Jake had tried for the past 5 years to have kids, but never had success.  Doctors assured you it was normal to take some time after a woman goes off birth control, and the stress of trying did not help your odds.  

It was the one thing you two wanted more than any other thing on the planet, and it broke your heart month after month.  You were just starting to look into other ways to have kids when Jake was called away on that last horrid mission.  He assured you as he packed you would find an answer together when he returned.  

Now you had nothing.  

“Aaran?” you asked as you opened your door a crack, squinting into the setting sun behind the man on the other side.  “What- whatever are you doing here?” You struggled to keep your words in a neat and proper row, or at least you think that’s what you said. You aren't fully sure what came out of your mouth if you were honest.  Or if even you had a mouth right now.  No you had a mouth, how else would your teeth be so tingly.  You tap a nail on your front teeth.  Nope definitely no feeling there!  Or on your lips as you tap the top one.  Your eyes glaze further over as you continue to touch parts of your face, seeing if the sensations have ceased in all the various parts.  

It's when you attempt to poke your own eye that Sy speaks up, standing on your porch.  “Are you okay, Mrs. Jensen?"  Your eyes attempt to focus on him looking at you with one eyebrow cresting high on his forehead.  It seemed like Sy knocked on your door like an hour before you did a self assessment of your current state of being, happy to be distracted from your hamster wheel of thoughts that had spiraled out of your control after dropping Jolene off after her doctor appointment.    

“Of course,” you lied, blinking your eyes, only they suddenly felt oh-so-heavy and like they wanted to stick closed.  “Perfectly a-ok, Captain.”  You giggle to yourself, eyes still closed.

You heard the rustle of grocery sacks being set on your porch, and felt a large arm sweep around your waist.  “So I can see,” rumbled in your ear unexpectedly.  

Suddenly you feel dizzy as you are spun in a circle.  Or maybe he just kept you from falling on your face in the middle of your living room.  You giggled again, and gripped his arm with your empty hand.  

“I’ll take that," you hear him mutter, sweeping the revolver from your other hand as he moves you adeptly to the couch.  You found yourself placed amongst the pillows and blankets as if you were a rag doll.  When you did open your eyes, your vision swam a bit more than you would have liked. 

As Sy stood, you looked almost amazed at the .357 as he emptied it. “How did you get my door gun?” you asked him, pressing your lips together in what you assumed was an intimidating look.  “And why are you unloading it?"  And why did it look so tiny in his hands??  That gun felt like a monster even all these years after Jake bought it for you. 

“Door gun?” he asked in an almost amused voice as he put the six rounds in his pocket before tucking the weapon in the waistband of his pants.  “What is a ‘door gun’?”

“It's a-”  You watched him clear the almost empty bottle of whiskey from the coffee table, along with your favorite coffee mug.  “Hey!" you called after him, as he retreated to the kitchen. “I was drinking that.”

The giant of a man snorted as you heard water run. “When was the last time you had some water, sweetheart?”  

“I’m not dirty, I’m thirsty,” you insisted, as he returned to set a tall glass on the coffee table within arm’s reach.  

He seemed to ignore you as he walked to the door, and retrieved the grocery sacks on the porch.  "Are you hungry?" he asked as he closed and locked the door behind him.  "Madre sent food over for you.  She seems to think you aren’t taking care of yourself."

Stunned by the fact that someone saw through the façade you tried to keep up in front of others, you sat staring at Sy as he moved through your house.  When your eyes met, you snapped out of your shock.  “Of course I’m taking care of myself," you insisted.  

“That is evident by the liquid dinner," Sy teased softly.  

Your defenses went up immediately.   “You don’t know me.  You don’t know anything about me.” How dare he. Who the fuck was he? Had he ever lost the love of his life in a mother fucking copter crash?  Did he lose his family in that same fucking crash?  He doesn’t know what it's like to deal with that loss day in and day out.  Not knowing what to do with yourself, unsure if you should just pack up the house and move to somewhere else, away from all the memories that haunted these walls, or stay right where you are and soak in those memories until you are pruny because it was all you had left of the life you had with Jake.  

He nodded. “That’s true. But I’ve helped the wives and families of my own men I’ve lost," he cleared his throat, his voice sounding tight. “I know what it looks like, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, as if he was trying not to spook you.

The tears you had been trying to keep at bay all day with whisky and pure stubborn determination suddenly burst from their dam, flooding your cheeks.  Why were you so upset about not having a child when you clearly couldn't take care of yourself, and even this man who has known you for all of 3 minutes can see that you are not capable.  

“Oh, sugar,” Sy cooed softly as he sat next to you and carefully but determinedly pulled you against his chest.  “I am so so sorry."  He tucked you in close, your arms flush to his chest, your head under his chin.  “I did not mean to make you cry."  You barely heard the words as you loudly sobbed into the wall of chest and arms surrounding you. The arms held you a little tighter, hands rubbing your back where they landed.  

All of your emotions from the past few days, the past few weeks, hell it had been a month already, tumbled out without signs of stopping.  You had no concept of how much time passed before your tears dried up, your sobs and hiccups turning into soft sighs, while Sy’s comforting embrace and soothing tone never changed.  

Embarrassed by your actions, you gently pushed away from him, your hands on his chest,  but your eyes remained downcast. 

“I’m sorry," you started, reaching for the glass of water.  The little sip you intended on taking made you realize how dry your mouth was and how much your throat burned.  Instead you finished the glass in a few seconds, as a large warm hand laid on your back, a calming presence as you continued to collect yourself.  

When you tried to stand, glass in hand, to grab a refill, the hand on your back moved to your shoulder and encouraged you to stay seated as Sy stood.  “Let me," he insisted, taking the glass from you, squeezing your shoulder before walking into the other room.  

Propping your elbows on your knees, you ran your fingers through your hair with a soft sigh, your body filled with that after-cry-stuffy-but-clear feeling.  

The glass appeared back on the table in front of you.  “Can I get you anything else?" Sy asked softly. 

Shaking your head, you reached for a tissue from the box on the end table as he settled back on the couch next to you, the reassuring hand returning to your back.  You wiped your cheeks and blew your nose, certain your grandmother was rolling in her grave at your unladylike actions in front of a man you hardly knew. 

Suck it, granny, you thought to yourself as you grabbed a second tissue.  A widow was entitled to a few indelicate moments.  

You and Sy sat in silence for a bit as you sipped the cool water, your buzz draining from your brain with each passing second.  With a gentle pat, Sy shifted to sit  next to you on the edge of the couch.  “Could I borrow your powder room?" he asked, humor lightly coloring his words.  

Nodding, you gave him instructions to find it.  After he rose and left, you collected your trash and glass, heading to the kitchen.  You pushed open the bags on your table, looking to see what Madre had sent you.  Although 5 minutes ago you would have sworn you were not hungry, your belly erupted into gurgles at the smell and sight of her efforts. 

Sy returned as you reached for a plate from the cupboard. "Will you join me?” you asked over your shoulder, fingering a second dish from the stack.  

With a shake of his head, he declined. “Madre already fed me,” he said with humor tinting his words and an infectious smile on his face.  

“Of course she did,” you conceded, surprised you didn’t think of that when you felt still warm plastic containers against your fingers.  

 “But I’ll take a drink and sit with you if you’d like."

You nodded.  “I would like that more than I can explain,” you confessed softly.  Meals alone when Jake was on a mission were  far from your favorite thing ever, but you always got through it with the promise of shared time together when he returned.  But now....

BEEP BEEP  BEEP

You opened the door to the microwave and grabbed your plate.  Sy laughed softly as you performed the “Ooo Ooo It’s Hot” dance over to the table with the plate carefully balanced on your finger tips.  

“Shush, big boy,” you half chastised him as you grabbed a fork and napkin.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he conceded with a sip of his beer.

You settled back at the table in the chair opposite Sy.  “Good.  Now tell me how you know Cougar but not Jake,” you prompted, blowing lightly on a steaming forkful of rice.  

“Alright.”  Sy proceeded to tell you about how he and the team’s sniper met during basic training and happened to land in the same class for officers training, becoming good friends along the way.  

“So then why have we not met until now if you two are so close?” 

Sy shook his head and shrugged.  “Our deployments are rarely at the same time, so we are hardly ever stateside at the same time would be my guess,” he offered.  “Could also be why I only know your husband by his reputation alone.  We’ve never been on an op together.”

You nodded and contemplated your plate as you blinked back unwanted tears. “I guess that makes sense,” you agreed, clearing your throat when your voice cracked.  

"And Clay and I," Sy paused, seeming to search for the right words with a half a smirk.  "He and I have history."

You looked up, interested and tears forgotten. "Oh?"

His eyes twinkled as he tipped back his beer, not offering any more information as you sat with your proverbial breath held.  He kept eye contact as he tossed the empty in the trash and grabbed another from the fridge. 

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?" You playfully groused, your eyes narrowed as he sat back down.  In response, he opened the bottle and took a leisurely painfully-slow drink.  "Jerkface," you mumbled to your next forkful of food, causing Sy to snort and begin to cough, spewing beer into his hand.  Laughing and hacking he quickly made his way to the sink where he cleaned his hand and wiped at his beard with the wet hand.  

"I usually know a woman a bit longer before she calls me derogatory terms, " he offered up.

“I’m not like other women,” you informed him as you finally put that next forkful in your mouth.  

“So I am gathering.”

You smiled and pondered as you thoughtfully chewed, thinking of all the ways this man could have gotten on the bad side of the Colonel.  Clay was a hard man but it took a lot to get on his bad side.  You looked Sy over, giving him your own silent treatment.  What did you know about him?  Not much.  So you hit the low hanging fruit first.  “You sleep with his daughter?” you joked.  

Sy’s eyes widened just a hair, and the tips of his ears may have reddened, but other than that he kept his poker face.  “How is Aubrey?” he deadpanned.

It was your turn to look at him surprised.  You had been joking, thinking about how this man was nothing like the other men the young woman had introduced you to over the years.  But maybe there was more to the girl than you knew.  I mean what better way to piss off her daddy than to sleep with a Special Forces Officer.  “Holy shit-”

“No!” Sy roared with laughter.  “God no.  I have some morals,” he avowed.  

“Uh-hu,” you teased as you cleared your plate to the sink.

“She’s a baby,” he further tried to sway you as you refilled your glass

“A legal baby,” you countered as you took a sip.

“A barely legal baby,” he sounded almost aghast you thought him possible of this.  

You stood looking out the window over the sink, smirking softly at your reflection.  Why were you having this conversation with a man you hardly knew, treating him the way you would any other member of the team?  With a tiny crack in your heart, you thought maybe just maybe Cougar and possibly Jake were looking out for you and sent you someone like them to ease your pain just enough to get through this in one piece.   

Part 4

General Tag List: @littleone65

Henry Cavill Tag List: @m07belzenbelzen @Used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin 

Blinded By The Fog Tag List: @Mis-lil-red

[ao3komorii]

Tangling with the Lifeguard (Pool Party Sett/Reader)

The Pool Party Sett story is done! I’ve gone with a beach!AU sort of setting where league races exist in a modern-day beach sort of place. Also sorry to any MF or Syndra mains, they don’t really come out the best in this xD Hope you enjoy, and as always, there is a smut warning for the end!

---

The sun was shining high in the sky, crystalline waters lapping against the shore as beachgoers took advantage of the perfect summer day. Taking in the scene from your place in the shade of a tree on the border between the beach and parking lot, you let a smile grace your lips as you mused on just how much this place seemed to not change, even after so many years.

The last time you had set foot on this beach, you had been twelve years old, full of excitement and unaware of the harsh realities of the adult world. Your parents had brought you here for that summer, now thirteen years ago, the beautiful beach an unforgettable experience. You had left after that summer with treasured memories, and a new friend, that same friend the very reason why you had returned to Port Navori beach after so long.

Taliyah had been the same age as you, with fairly lax parents who let her roam the beach by herself, even as the small twelve-year-old she had been. You had bonded instantly, spending almost every day together, and keeping in touch through letters, and later emails and text messages.

You had long said that you had wanted to come back and visit the lively beach town, but the timing hadn’t been right, not until this year.

You were done all your schooling, and had quit your high-stress, low-pay job, and as Taliyah had said on your last phone call, you had no reason not to visit. Her parents had been travelling the world since they retired, so you would have her house all to yourselves.

In your absence, Taliyah had become a fairly accomplished surfer in the local scene, working at an ice cream shop on the beach to support her expensive pursuits. She had been so insistent that you couldn’t find yourself able to refuse her offer; work in the ice cream shop with her in the day, and then spend the rest of your time catching up with each other. You had missed your friend dearly, and had accepted the offer without a second thought.

And now here you were, waiting at the beach’s edge for Taliyah to show up. She had told you to dress for the beach, sounding casual as was her usual, so you had worn a swimsuit with a short, flowy shoulderless dress on overtop. Unwilling to look like a lobster by day’s end, you had carefully layered yourself with sunscreen, and now all you needed was for your friend to get here already. Just when you were about to get out your phone to text her, an excited call of your name had you re-stowing the phone in your bag and looking back to see your friend bounding across the parking lot towards you.

Taliyah, dressed in a two-piece water suit and carrying a tropical-flower-print surfboard, came to a stop before you, leaning her surfboard against a tree to free her arms to tackle you in a hug.

“You’re finally here!” she grinned, surprising you with the strength of her hug. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“So what’s first?” you asked as you pulled back from the hug.

Taliyah hummed. “I guess I’ll show you the shop.”

You followed her onto the beach, recognizing the small bright blue building from the pictures she had sent you before. Taliyah took you around the back, fishing a key out of her pocket before unlocking the door and leading you into the small room.

There were large tubs of ice cream in the middle of the room, the walls lined with containers of various toppings and machines. On the back wall from you were two windows, glossy menus pasted to the doors that would display out when they were opened. Upon walking closer to the menu signs, you noticed something.

“Hey, it says we open at nine, but it’s ten-thirty…”

“It’s fine,” Taliyah replied with a shrug. “The owners are pretty chill. If anyone complains, I’ll just tell them I had to train the new employee.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Sometimes you really envied Taliyah’s ability to be so carefree. Her calm energy was a big help for you, having got advice from her on numerous occasions over the years.

Taliyah came over to where you were, eyes flitting boredly to the menu boards before turning her attention back to you. “So I’m thinking we get you taking orders while I make them.”

“Works for me,” you agreed. It certainly sounded easier than figuring out what a poro float was supposed to be. You never knew ice cream stands had such fancy options now, used to the simple menus of ice cream cones and bars back at the shops in your hometown.

You were about to open the order windows when you were stopped by a rustling noise from the back of the store. You turned to see Taliyah digging in a cardboard box in the back corner, pulling out some folded-up fabric that was the same sky blue as the stand.

“Didn’t think you’d get away without an embarrassing uniform, did you?” Taliyah teased, tossing some of her fabric pile your way.

You caught the bundle, unfolding it to find an apron with Poro Palace Frozen Treats in pink bubble letters, little white fuzzy animals dotting the apron. There was an accompanying blue visor hat that looked like something out of a kid’s store. You reluctantly slipped both items of clothing on, looking back to find that Taliyah had done the same.

“Stylish, huh?” she smirked, striking a modelesque pose.

“We look like we work at an amusement park, Tali,” you laughed.

“Feels like it sometimes with all the annoying kids that come by,” she replied. “Okay, you can open it up now.”

Taliyah settled herself down in a chair in front of the section of ice cream tubs, and you reluctantly turned to unlatch and open the windows, unsure of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

The small room lit up with the outside sunlight streaming in from your window to outside, the immediate glare of the sun making you wish you had worn sunglasses.

Almost immediately, the masses were upon you. You noticed a woman with several children in tow who perked up as she laid eyes on you, striding over to you with her children right behind her, pushing each other as they scrambled to be the first one to get over to you.

You heard Taliyah groan behind you. “Get the pen ready. They always have the most annoying orders.”

You rose an eyebrow, but picked up the pen and notepad that sat beside the cash register as the woman came to a stop before you.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for an hour already. You young girls don’t know how hard it is for mothers,” the woman complained, not letting you get a word in edgewise. “Alright, tell her what you want.”

“I want a brownie sundae!” a small boy with blue hair who clearly intended to make full use of his outdoor voice shouted. “But with cotton candy ice cream and pop rocks and I want only blue candies!”

“Uh…” The kid was talking too fast for you to write, but luckily Taliyah had your back, a got it ringing out from behind you.

You weren’t sure how you had managed to get their orders out before they melted, messing up their total several times before Taliyah had to come and help you out. With a last snide look and a fistful of blue napkins, the mother and her little terrors left the stand at last.

“She’s the worst,” Taliyah said, bringing your weary gaze her way as she cleaned off an ice cream scoop. “I accidentally put one red candy in that kid’s sundae once and he screamed until I remade the whole thing!”

You winced. “Feels like we got off easy today.”

“Yeah,” Taliyah agreed. “Helps that they order the same thing every time, so I’ve got some practice.”

“Are they all this bad?” you asked, turning away from the window after seeing no potential customers nearby.

“Not all of them,” she replied with a strained smile. “I swear the heat just brings the jerk out in some of the people here.”

Speaking of jerks… your conversation was interrupted by an impatient-sounding throat clearing noise from behind you. You whirled around to see a redheaded woman with heart-shaped sunglasses and a revealing swimsuit leaning against your counter. She was staring at you like you were gum she had stepped in, flipping some hair over her shoulder when she knew she had your attention.

“Five cherry snowballs,” she said, dropping a few coins on your counter, some of which bounced and hit the floor. “To the red umbrella, thanks ice cream girl.”

Without any further interaction, she turned on her heel and strutted away, hips swinging as she went, leaving you wondering what had just happened.

You slowly turned back to face Taliyah again. “Um, do we usually deliver?”

“Nope,” she answered. “Not to people like that anyways.”

“But…” you protested weakly. You knew Taliyah got away with a lot here, but you didn’t want her to lose her job because some rude girl complained to her bosses. “I’ll just take them over and next time I’ll just say we don’t deliver.”

“Still tempted to put rocks in their snowballs,” Taliyah joked as she set about piling the scoops of red ice.

Soon you had a tray with five cherry syrup-coated piles of shaved ice in little plastic bowls with accompanying little plastic spoons stuck in the side of the dishes.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, heading past Taliyah to the back door, opening it to find yourself back out in the mid-morning heat.

The sand still felt uncomfortably hot underfoot, even with your flip flops on. With how hot it was out, these would have to be delivered as soon as possible to not be a puddle by the time they were eaten. Your only problem was that you had no idea where to go.

The redhead had said that she would be at the red umbrella, but of course nothing at this ice cream stand would be that easy. Standing just outside the hut, you were treated to a veritable rainbow of colored beach umbrellas. You counted at least ten red ones scattered across the beach, none particularly standing out to you. You didn’t have many options, and were forced to go with the most tedious one; checking every red umbrella until you found the girl and her group.

The first umbrella had been a bust, as had the next five. The sixth had led to a sweaty old man who told you that you were just in time to help him sunscreen his back. By the time you had hurriedly fled from that creep, it had been about five minutes of searching, the snowballs on your tray looking considerably droopier than they had been when you had left the shop.

You stared down at the tray of melting treats, unsure of what to do now. Should you go back and have Taliyah remake the snowballs? Try a few more umbrellas and hope you got lucky? You really hadn’t been anticipating this much stress when you had agreed to work here with Taliyah for the summer.

You frowned at the now-more-water-than-ice treats, your decision made. You couldn’t serve these, not as melted as they were. You would go back and help remake them and see if Taliyah had any insight as to which red umbrella was the right one. You turned around to head back to the stand, only to trip on your overheating flip flops and fall forward with a cry.

You had closed your eyes with a flinch as you fell, but opened them with a start as you heard a grunt from right in front of you. Looking up from your position in the burning sand, you felt like your heart was going to stop in your chest.

Standing before you was the most attractive guy you had ever laid eyes on, with fire red hair and a pair of black animal ears that looked soft to the touch. He was dressed in a tight pair of swim shorts, a lightweight red jacket tied around his waist. He had a flower lei around his neck, but that was the only thing that he wore on his top half, his insanely-well-built torso on full display, a torso you realized with horror was currently splattered with red syrup and shaved ice.

You looked from the hot guy to the ground, the sand around you speckled with plastic cups, spoons and napkins, your tray turned upside down in the sand. You slowly risked a gaze back up, only to see the guy staring down at you from behind his pink-tinted sunglasses as a clump of ice fell from his stomach to the sand just in front of your hands.

Embarrassment forced you to spring up, grabbing some stray napkins from the ground and dabbing them against the mess of syrup and ice on the man’s abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, I–” You looked up from your apologizing to see the man silently staring at you, your hand freezing in place as you realized that you were basically feeling this guy up through the napkins, the realization making your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry!” you cried out, pulling your hands back. He still hadn’t said anything, and you realized that you couldn’t just stand here like an idiot, your flight instinct kicking in as you reached down to grab your tray before moving around the man and fleeing in the direction of the ice cream stand.

“Hey, wait!”

The man tried to grab your arm as you passed, but you were faster in your embarrassment-fueled retreat, and soon the hot stranger was far behind you. You didn’t stop running until you were back at the shop, the empty sand-logged tray clutched tightly to your chest, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you shut the door, making eye contact with a confused Taliyah.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, getting up to approach you when you didn’t respond. “Talk to me. What happened? If that snob said anything to you–”

“No, no, she didn’t,” you replied weakly, sinking to the floor with your back against the door. “I didn’t even get to her.”

“Then what happened?” she pressed, bringing you a glass of water and prying the tray from your hands at last.

She ushered you to your feet and down into her chair, taking a seat on one of the counters. You took a deep breath, taking a sip of the water before recounting the events of the past ten minutes to Taliyah, who listened silently.

“…I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran,” you finished, setting your water down to bury your face in your hands.

“It’s no big deal,” Taliyah replied gently. “Everyone has embarrassed themselves in front of someone. Remember that time I tripped over my board in front of that group of tourists?”

“I covered him in cherry syrup, Tali,” you groaned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“It’s your first day,” she stressed. “You’re bound to mess some things up.”

She stood up, returning to the shaved ice machine. “Now how about we remake those snowballs and then I’ll–”

Taliyah had frozen in place, a plastic cup in her hand as she stared straight ahead.

“Tali?” you questioned, standing up. “Are you–”

“That guy you dumped the snowballs on,” she quickly interrupted. “Did he have majorly cut abs and animal ears?”

“Uh, why?” You felt a jolt of fear shoot up your spine as you followed her gaze to see the man from earlier currently approaching the shop, well-defined abdomen now minus the sticky mess you had spilt all over him. “Oh god, it’s him!”

You and Taliyah exchange wide-eyed glances before you dove down out of sight, hiding behind the tubs of ice cream like they were a fortress.

“Please get rid of him!” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t face him!”

You heard Taliyah sigh. “Fine, but this means you’re coming stone hunting with me tonight.”

You agreed immediately, even if the prospect wasn’t overwhelmingly appealing. Taliyah was always eager to add to her collection of shiny stones, but was so picky that it often took hours to find just one stone that met her standards. But right now you were so desperate that you would have promised her anything just to make the angry hot guy go away.

From your position behind the ice cream tubs, you could only hear Taliyah’s voice clearly, the general noise of the beach preventing you from hearing what the furry-eared man was saying. You wanted to peek out from your hiding spot, but found yourself chickening out. You really didn’t need him catching sight of you and making Taliyah’s job even harder.

You had gotten so in your own head with panic that you had completely tuned out of your surroundings until a hand waved in front of your face and you realized Taliyah was crouching in front of you, calling your name.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Is he gone?” you replied quietly.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” she confirmed, standing up and grabbing your forearms to pull you up with her. “Now help me remake those snowballs and then I’ll fill you in.”

You bit your lip as you scooped shaved ice into a row of plastic cups as Taliyah readied the cherry syrup. Soon you had five pristine-looking snowballs on your slightly-sandy tray, the sight of them bringing you back to your moment of collision with the cute guy.

The tray was snatched from your field of vision by Taliyah, who headed over to the rear door. “Be back in a few. Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”

And then the door was closed and you were left alone. Looking over at the order window, you decided that you were probably safer to just resume your position behind the ice cream tubs, unwilling to risk being out in the open in case the guy decided to come back.

While she was gone, you couldn’t help but fret over exactly what had been said between your best friend and the mysterious hot guy. She didn’t seem to be upset, so clearly their conversation hadn’t been that intense. Or maybe it had; Taliyah was a fairly relaxed person, so it would be difficult for a random angry customer to really get to her. But that didn’t quite make sense either; if he had yelled at her, you would have heard it over the noise of the beachgoers. All you were doing was overthinking yourself to death, exactly what Taliyah had told you not to do.

And it was there you remained until Taliyah returned, closing the door behind her and placing the serving tray in the sink before she turned her attention to you at last.

“Calm down, it’s fine… I think,” she said.

“You think?”

“Well he didn’t seem mad,” she explained. “He asked if a girl that looked like you worked here and I said you went home sick. Said he’d come back another time.”

“Another–” Oh god. Was he really so angry that he was willing to come back just for the chance to yell at you?

“I can see you freaking out,” Taliyah scolded. “Don’t. You’re fine. Musclehead or not, he’s not going to kill you just because you spilled shaved ice on him.”

She was probably right; hot shirtless guys on the beach likely had more important things to do than yelling at clumsy ice cream shop workers. By tomorrow, he would probably forget you ever existed, and you could go back to enjoying your time working alongside your best friend.

 The rock collecting that night had been long and boring, at least for you. Taliyah hadn’t found any rocks she liked enough to take home, only ending the search after she had found some sea glass that she had deemed acceptable to add to her collection. You could only hope that you wouldn’t owe her any more favors any time soon, unsure if you could survive another late night rock hunt.

The next morning, you entered the shop alongside Taliyah, who put her bag down and began to set up the day’s supplies. Considering it was ten minutes past opening time and Taliyah had insisted that she didn’t need help setting up, you decided that you might as well just open the order window for the day, hoping that mom and her group of demon kids wouldn’t be waiting out there, only to unlatch the widows and see something arguably worse.

The window had only been open a peek, but it was enough for you to see the large figure of the man from yesterday standing ten feet or so from your shop, his back facing you as he stared out at the beach. In your brief glimpse, you also noticed that the jacket wrapped around his waist had a white plus sign in a circle as well as the word lifeguard in white blocky letters above it. Oh god, of course you had gone and pissed off a lifeguard on your first day here.

You shut the barely-open windows with a too-loud slam that made you wince before you quickly locked them again and rushed over to Taliyah.

“Tali, he’s here again!” you hissed.

“Huh?” she replied, pausing her task of refilling a container of sprinkles. “Muscle guy?”

You nodded frantically and Taliyah frowned, putting the sprinkles down and approaching the order window herself. You watched as she opened the window ever so slightly, peering out for a few seconds before closing it back up.

“Well… can’t say I was expecting him to actually come back,” she said evenly.

“What do I even do?” you asked, staring at the order windows like they would burst open at any second and reveal you to the clearly-determined lifeguard. “He’s a lifeguard, Tali! What if he bans me from the beach?”

She rolled her eyes in response. “He can’t just ban you from the beach. Lifeguards don’t have that much power. If they did, I would’ve been banned a long time ago for all the times I’ve surfed after hours.”

“Then what does he want with me?” you asked, looking away from the window.

Taliyah shrugged. “You’d have to ask him that.”

“But what if I… don’t?” you replied weakly. “He’ll give up eventually, right?”

“I mean, maybe?” she said. “But it might be easier to deal with him now and get it over with.”

You saw her point, but it wasn’t her that was being pursued by a tall, muscly lifeguard with a vengeance!

Taliyah clearly caught the reluctance on your face and sighed. “Fine, I’ll switch with you for today. Now let’s go over how to make the basic stuff before we open.”

True to her word, Taliyah had allowed you to hide in the back making orders, telling the lifeguard guy that you were off today. You watched him walk away from behind the shaved ice machine, hoping that your ordeal was finally over, but your hopes were quickly dashed the next day as you went to open the store again, only to see the same broad back facing you from just outside the shop.

Taliyah had reluctantly agreed to switch again that day, and the day after. But by day four, even the promise of helping her scavenge for rocks again wouldn’t get her to agree to switch.

You closed the window again, turning to Taliyah with pleading eyes, but she was having none of it.

“It’s been four days,” she said, arms crossed. “Clearly he’s not giving up. You should just see what he wants.”

“But…” The thought still terrified you. You knew you deserved to be yelled at for what you had done, but it was made that much worse by the fact that the subject of your plight was just about the hottest guy you had ever seen.

Taliyah shook her head at you. “Okay, but I’m not doing orders again today, so if you want to keep hiding from him, we’ll have to move onto plan B.”

Plan B, as it turned out, was a mascot suit of sorts; three fluffy poros stacked on top of each other like a snowman. A poro each made up your upper and lower body, the last poro being the head of the costume. You looked incredibly awkward, the arms and legs of the costume hairy and tipped with little brown claws. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer lengths you were going to just to avoid this guy, but you were already in the costume, so you reasoned that you might as well follow through with it now.

Taliyah put the costume’s head on you and your world was plunged largely into darkness, minus the mesh one-way view out of the top poro’s eyes. You were helped to the back door, some fliers for the store shoved into your hands.

Taliyah helped you walk out front, and you were pretty quickly swarmed by kids. You couldn’t see the lifeguard guy, but the relief that coursed through you was short-lived, swallowed by the immediate explosion of business brought on by your costume.

One thing you hadn’t considered in your haste was the heat. You weren’t sure if it was the costume or if today was hotter than usual, but very quickly you found yourself becoming a sweaty mess under the weight of the dense, furry costume.

The longer you were in the costume, the worse you felt, but you were determined to stick this out. So you handed out fliers and posed for photos with children while Taliyah ran the stand.

You wished that you could wipe the sweat from your face, but you weren’t sure if you could even reach up to remove the costume’s head yourself due to the awkward shape of the costume. So you endured the ever-increasing heat, only feeling wearier as the time ticked by.

You waved goodbye to a group of kids as they left with their ice cream cones, the sweltering heat really bearing down on you. As you went to turn and head back to the stand to ask Taliyah to help get the head off, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. You took one step towards the stand, and then another, and then it all went dark as you felt yourself falling forward, too weak to stop your descent to the ground.

 You woke up with a heavy head, feeling foggy with confusion. The last thing you remembered, you had been heading back to the stand…

Immediately, you realized that you weren’t at the ice cream stand, and you weren’t wearing the poro suit, or even your beach dress. Sitting up in the cot you laid in, you found that you were wearing only your swimsuit.

As you sat up, a blue ice pack that you hadn’t realized was there fell from your forehead and into your lap. Picking it up, the pack only feeling slightly cold, you turned to look around the room, still unsure what exactly was going on.

You were in a room of some sort, guessing it was afternoon by the minute amount of light filtering into the room, even through the closed curtains. There was a fan gently whirring above your head, but otherwise the room was silent.

There was another cot beside yours, and a table nearby with a few red first aid kits stacked on it, some bandages messily spilling out of one of them. There was a sign pulled over the door, the side facing you reading come on in, we’re open.

You got up from the bed, shuddering with disgust when you noticed just how sweaty your whole body was. The bed squeaked as you got up from it, your knees hitting a bedside table between the cots that you hadn’t noticed had been there. On the small table was a glass of water, as well as a white fan that was emblazoned with what looked to be a group of cats waterskiing.

You picked up the fan, letting out a small laugh at the silly-looking cartoon cats on the fan. It looked like something you could win at a carnival booth.

“If you can laugh, then I guess you’re feelin’ alright.”

A deep voice from behind you made you jump, fingers fumbling the fan, which fell onto the floor with a clatter that was only made louder in the quiet room. You turned to look behind you, only to fall off the cot in shock when you saw the very lifeguard you had been trying so hard to avoid standing in the doorway of a small office you hadn’t noticed was there.

“Hey, careful!” He quickly crossed the room to squat down in front of you, taking your elbow and helping you back up onto the cot. You were too stunned to resist and found yourself falling into his chest as a wave of dizziness hit you.

“You okay?” he asked, and you tried to nod, but your head was spinning too much to focus. “Hey, hold still.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady against him until you were able to regain your focus. When he was satisfied with your condition, he pulled back, releasing your shoulders and instead reaching out for the glass of water on the table next to you.

“Drink,” he instructed, handing you the cup before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He stared at you for a moment before finally turning back and heading into the office at the back of the room.

You watched him go, feeling on edge, but complied, bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a long drink. The last thing you wanted to do was give this guy more reason to be upset with you. You were surprised at just how refreshing the water felt, and you had soon downed the entire glass, placing it back on the table when you were done.

“Alright, lay back down,” the lifeguard instructed as he returned.

“What?” you replied. What was he going to do to you? How had you even got here? Where was Taliyah?

He stopped before you, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at your shaky, terrified form. “Are you–”

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, bowing your head. “I didn’t mean to spill the snowballs on you! If you need to yell at me, go ahead. I’m sorry I didn’t just come out sooner and–”

It had occurred to you mid-ramble that he had yet to say anything, and you cut off your babbling, slowly looking up to find him staring at you with what you could only describe as a bewildered look on his face.

He blinked. “Is that why–”

“I’m so sorry!” you interrupted, bowing your head again. “If you want to ban me from the beach, I get it!”

“Ban ya from the beach?” he replied with a bark of laughter. “The only thing I wanted to do was get your number.”

“My… what?” You had to be hallucinating. There was no way he had just said that.

“Lay down first,” he spoke sternly, and you complied, still feeling stunned by his words.

Once you were laid down, he picked something up from the bed, which you recognized as another ice pack. He placed it on your forehead, the cool pack immediately flooding you with a feeling of relief. Closing your eyes, you let out a tired sigh, suddenly feeling fatigued.

“Get some rest, princess. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

You took his advice, the cooling from the ice pack lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids too heavy to keep open.

When you woke up again, you felt infinitely better, your head clearer and body feeling less overheated. The ice pack on your forehead was room temperature, and it was now dark outside. There was a light illuminating your left side as you sat up in bed, turning to see the office in the back with its light on.

The cot squeaked under you, which was responded to by the squeak of a chair from inside the office, the red-haired lifeguard emerging from the office and approaching your bedside.

“Feelin’ any better?” he asked, and you nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Got you some more water.”

You looked over to the bedside table to see the water cup refilled and took hold of it, grateful to have something to focus on other than the intimidatingly muscular man before you.

You drank the entire glass before you forced yourself to finally address the situation before you. “Um… why am I here?”

“You passed out,” he replied bluntly, taking a seat on the cot next to yours. “Overheated yourself in that rat costume.”

“They’re not rats, they’re poros,” you replied, unsure of what to say.

He let out a huff of laughter. “Poros that important to you that you’re willin’ to fry yourself for ‘em?”

“No, that was…” you trailed off. Well, you might as well just admit it. If he had gone out of his way to care for you after you had passed out like an idiot, then he deserved the truth. “I was avoiding you. I was scared you were going to yell at me. My friend didn’t want to keep covering for me at the window so I decided to wear that stupid poro costume.”

“So that’s what that was about,” he replied. “And here I thought you were avoidin’ me ‘cuz you weren’t interested. Gave up on gettin’ your number and then got news that someone passed out from heat stroke.”

You were still having a hard time comprehending the asking for your number part, so you instead chose to focus on the other half. “Heat stroke?”

“Not sure what you expected, wearin’ that costume in this heat,” he said. “Can’t say nobody’s ever been afraid of me before, but giving themself heat stroke just to avoid me is a new one.”

He sounded somewhat self-deprecating, and you immediately felt bad. You had clearly misjudged him, and realized that he hadn’t even mentioned the snowball incident himself.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, even with as awkward as you were currently felt. “I’m sorry for giving you so much trouble, and for spilling snowballs all over you. I’m just really sorry.”

He laughed. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for. I’ve had worse get on me since I started workin’ here, and usually it ain’t from a cute girl.”

You tensed in your seat, tearing your gaze from his to look down at your feet, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Hey, don’t go overheatin’ yourself again,” he scolded, standing up from the bed. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine, but I think it’s best if I take ya home. Don’t need your friend yellin’ at me again if you pass out on the way back.”

As much as you wanted to deny his assertion of you being not interested, you couldn’t muster up the courage, so you instead quietly accepted his offer of help. You would have to ask Taliyah what he had meant when you got back.

It was surprisingly cold on the beach at night, the icy breeze sending shivers along your skin. You stared out at the dark ocean waves, entranced by the water crashing against the sand, when your focus was broken by some soft fabric being laid over your shoulders.

You turned to look over your shoulder to see Sett just behind you on the steps of the lifeguard office, the jacket that was usually around his waist now laying on your shoulders.

He caught your curious look and raised an eyebrow. “You nearly cooked yourself to death today, I ain’t about to let you freeze yourself to death now.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, reaching a hand up to keep the jacket around your shoulders.

Your feet met the soft sand as you followed Sett towards the parking lot. The beach was totally empty, an odd contrast to how things were in the daytime. It felt weird to actually see the shape of the landscape unobscured by giant beach umbrellas and a sea of bodies. You only looked away from the empty scene when you realized that you had left the sand, and Sett was staring expectantly at you.

“…what?” you asked, getting the feeling that he had said something that you had missed.

“Which way?” he repeated with a quick glance at the street ahead of you.

“Oh right,” you replied. “My friend lives on Sandstone Way.”

Sett’s ears perked up. “By that tacky souvenir shop?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Right by there.”

You giggled at Sett’s assessment; you had noticed the eye-hurtingly brightly painted store when Taliyah had walked you to her house from the train station. She had rolled her eyes at the store as you surveyed the display of t-shirts with embarrassing designs on them, stating that sometimes they got some good rocks in, but it wasn’t worth the amount of tourists always asking for directions when she was walking around the neighborhood.

Looking over at Sett out of the corner of your eye, you were struggling to think of anything to say. He was dressed in just his sandals and shorts, his sunglasses forgone and giving you a clear look at his golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

“So this your first summer here?” Sett asked, breaking the brief silence as you walked side by side. “I know I’d remember you if I’d seen ya before.”

“I was here for a summer when I was a kid,” you answered. “But everything looks so different now. Maybe I just saw this place differently when I was a kid.”

“Nah,” he dismissed. “It never used to be this busy here. Tourists bring money to this place, but it means it’s always loud around here.”

The conversation was slowly helping you feel more comfortable with the intimidatingly handsome lifeguard. You felt dumb for putting so much energy into avoiding him.

“So have you always lived here?” you asked.

“Born and raised,” he answered with a grin that you couldn’t help but feel looked a little sad. “Ma used to work at the boating shop… and the laundromat… and the candy store.”

“All at the same time?” you asked incredulously.

Sett shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Pa ran off on us when I was a kid, and it wasn’t like anyone would hire a fatherless runt to work for them.”

“Sounds like it was hard,” you replied. “Did you ever find out where he went?”

“For his sake, I’d better not,” Sett sneered. “I heard ma cry missin’ that scumbag more times than I can count. There ain’t a family here for that bastard to come back to.”

“How is your mom doing?” you asked as you turned onto Sandstone Way, passing by the tacky tourist shop, the flashy paint on the walls too bright even at night.

“She’s doin’ good,” he answered, finally looking happy with a satisfied smile. “Got her to quit her jobs when I started workin’ enough to pay the bills.”

“You’re a good son,” you complimented him. “She’s lucky to have you.”

You smiled at him, coming to a stop before Taliyah’s house. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I don’t wanna see you passin’ out again.”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied. “No more poro costumes for me.”

“On that topic,” he purred, leaning closer to you. “You never gave me an answer.”

“An answer?” you squeaked, flustered by his sudden closeness.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get your number for days now,” he replied, and you did your best to supress a shiver from running up your spine. Was this real life?

You wet your lips with your tongue nervously, unable to miss how Sett’s sharp eyes watched the movement.

“I, um, I don’t have my phone on me,” you said, immediately realizing how dumb you sounded. You didn’t need your phone on you to tell him your number! You hastily made to amend your statement. “…but if you come by the stand tomorrow, I’ll give it to you!”

“Oh?” Sett’s grin was wide, gold eyes flashing dangerously. “I s’pose I could find some time to stop by. See you then, sweetheart.”

Sett turned to walk away, but you stopped him with a call of his name. “Wait, your jacket–”

“Keep it for the night,” Sett replied. “I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

You reluctantly agreed, stunned silent by his bold flirting, his jacket sitting warm on your shoulders as you watched him walk away. You stared at his broad back until he was out of sight, only then turning to head inside, knowing Taliyah would be waiting.

 The next morning she was still on you as you spent some extra time getting ready.

“I still can’t believe he gave you his jacket,” she teased with a grin. “I mean, I figured he was probably into you, but–”

“You what?” you replied as you paused styling your hair.

“I kept telling you to talk to him,” she replied. “No guy like that is going to wait outside your work for days in a row just to yell at you for spilling ice on him. But I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

“I just feel so stupid giving myself heat stroke just go avoid him,” you lamented.

“Yeah,” Taliyah frowned. “If I had realized it was that hot out, I never would’ve let you go out in that thing.”

“It’s my own fault for being so dumb,” you insisted.

“But hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?” Taliyah grinned as she slipped on her water shoes. “You’ve got a hot lifeguard coming to visit you at work today.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m still super nervous,” you said, adjusting your beach dress over your most flattering swimsuit.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah replied. “He’s clearly super into you. You should’ve seen him when you passed out yesterday.”

“What?” You had been so tired last night that you had only told her the basics before crashing for the night, completely forgetting to ask her what had happened yesterday.

“Someone got him when you collapsed,” she told you. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled off the poro head and saw it was you inside the costume! I tried to come with, but he told me he’d handle it. I maaay have threatened his life if anything happened to you, but just a little.”

You laughed. So that’s what Sett had been referring to.

Taliyah came up from behind you as you stared at your appearance in the mirror, resting her chin on your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Relax, you look great. Fuzzy ear boy isn’t gonna know what hit him!”

“Fuzzy ear–” you sputtered, laughing at Taliyah’s choice of words. “I guess his ears do look pretty fuzzy.”

“Well if he lets you pet them, tell me how soft they are!” she teased, pulling back from you to grab her bag. “Now let’s go. You’ve got a boy to meet!”

You somehow felt even more nervous today than you had the few days you had spent avoiding Sett. You were still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that a guy that looked like he had walked straight out of a fireman’s calendar was coming to your little beachfront ice cream stand for the sole purpose of getting your phone number. And his jacket, which was folded neatly on the countertop beside you.

You weren’t exactly sure when he was going to come. Usually, he would be there waiting outside in the morning before you opened, but all you had opened up to today was a sparsely-populated beachfront, no handsome lifeguards to be seen. By two in the afternoon, your anxiety had begun to get the better of you.

“Stop pacing,” Taliyah scolded you. “He’ll be here.”

“But what if he decided not to?” you said, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “What if this was just a joke?”

“Then I’ll go kick his butt,” she responded plainly. “He’ll come. Relax.”

You were about to reply, when a ding of the service bell at the order window had you spinning around, ready to take an order, only for the words to die on your lips when you laid eyes on the well-muscled lifeguard with the fuzzy black ears just outside the order window, sending a grin your way.

“Here to pick up my order,” he said, leaning an arm against the window.

“Your… order?” you replied, too entranced by his appearance to properly make use of your brain.

“A pretty girl promised me her number if I came by,” he replied, looking down at you through his sunglasses.

“I… right… I…” You turned back quickly to see Taliyah staring expectantly at you, mouthing the word number at you. Right.

With slightly shaky hands, you reached for the small notepad at the front counter, taking that and a pen in hand and trying not to focus on the fact that Sett was watching you as you began to write.

Double-checking that the number was right, you handed the paper to him, your fingers touching as he took it from you. Remembering about your other promise, you reached over to grab the lifeguard jacket from the counter beside you. You went to hand him his jacket, surprised when he didn’t take it from you.

“What time do you get off?” he asked, and you answered a quiet six. “Give it back to me then.”

With a short wave and a grin, Sett made a show of stowing the phone number in his pocket before sauntering off and leaving you standing there slack-jawed.

“See? Was that so hard?” Taliyah called from her seat at the ice machine. “Now you just have to keep it together for your date.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you said, leaning back against the counter.

“You did last night, didn’t you?” she countered. “He’s just a guy. A really hot guy, but still. Don’t freak yourself out. You deserve a nice guy. It’s just a bonus that he has more abs than spiders have legs!”

You let out an amused huff. Taliyah was right, as she always was. You needed to get over yourself and let yourself have a good time tonight.”

But for now, you had customers to deal with. You and Taliyah let out a shared groan as you saw the nightmare mom and her army of brats heading towards you. You both returned to your posts, hoping their overly-complicated orders would be right on the first try this time.

 Taliyah let out a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head before beginning the process of cleaning up for the day. After the last customer left, you hastily closed the order window, not wanting to give anyone the chance to come and beg about how it was only five minutes past closing and they’ve been wanting a banana split all day. You had learned your lesson from that mistake on day two.

Once the order windows were closed and locked, you joined Taliyah at the side counter, helping to return all the different containers of toppings to their rightful places. You found your hands moving slower, your nerves slowing you down in order to prolong the inevitable.

Taliyah eventually got tired of your pitiful attempt at stalling for time and gently removed the container of blue sprinkles from your grasp. “Just go, I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, and Taliyah sent you an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

“I hope you know I expect all the details later!” she grinned as you made your way to the door, hesitating with your hand on the door handle for only a moment before opening the door.

It was mercifully less warm outside today than it had been yesterday, not to mention that you were also minus a heavy mascot costume. Yesterday hadn’t ended too badly for you, but you would still prefer to not end today in a hospital if you exacerbated your current heat-sensitive state.

You weren’t sure if you preferred if Sett was already there, or if you got there first to wait for him; neither option seemed to abate your nerves. But of course, the lifeguard was prompt as always, leaning against one of the beams that held up the awning above the order window.

You didn’t think you had been making much noise walking along the sand, but he seemed to hear you, turning to face you with a grin as you approached.

“Ready?” he asked as you came to a stop before him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep your cool.

“Yeah,” you answered, impressed that your voice hadn’t come out squeaky with how nervous you were.

“Good,” he replied, before his grin turned teasing. “Was half expectin’ ya to come on our date in that rat costume.”

“Poro!” you corrected again, trying not to get flustered by his mention of this being a date. You weren’t sure what else it would be, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when he had acknowledged the obvious.

He surprised you by taking your hand, pulling you along with him as you tried desperately not to stumble and fall into the sand.

The beach crowd was beginning to thin out, people heading home or to one of the many beachfront restaurants nearby. Watching as a kid packed up his sand toys, you wondered if one of those restaurants was where you were headed as well. Sett hadn’t told you anything about what the plan was, and you found yourself curious when he led you to the bright white lifeguard office.

At first, you had thought that maybe he had forgotten something, at least until you followed him into the small building to see what looked to be the table that had previously held all the first aid kits, now decked out in a soft-looking purple picnic blanket. On top of the makeshift picnic table was a spread of various tasty-looking finger foods, the scene completed by two chairs pulled up to the table, cushions with a starfish pattern placed on the seats.

You were perhaps too dumbfounded by the sight, as you snapped out of it to Sett calling your name, looking over at him to see him looking surprisingly tense. You should probably say something, you realized.

“It looks great,” you said, meaning every word as you looked over the table. “Are those cabbage rolls?”

“Ma helped me make ‘em,” Sett explained, looking bashful for the first time since you had met him as he raised an arm to scratch at the back of his neck. “Helped me with all of this, actually. Never done anythin’ like this before.”

“You mean a picnic?” you asked curiously.

Sett chuckled. “Picnics. Dates. Not a lotta women ‘round here who wanted anythin’ to do with a fatherless half-breed.”

You had a hard time believing that; you had noticed several mothers checking him out as they packed their family’s stuff to leave the beach. But the hint of something sad in his eyes made you reconsider. You had no memory of seeing someone like him that summer you had spent here, but it wasn’t like that was a surprise to you. You and Taliyah had been in your own little world at that time, only ever spending time with each other.

“Well I’m excited to try your cooking,” you said, figuring a change of subject was for the best.

Sett grinned as he sat down. “Should be decent. Haven’t poisoned anyone since high school.”

Your eyes widened, hand freezing on its path to grab a cabbage roll, startled eyes darting to his.

Sett let out a bark of laughter at your alarmed face. “Relax. Wouldn’t poison ya. Maybe those kids that keep swimmin’ into the boating zone, but not you.”

“Thanks… I think?” you replied, biting your lip as you stared down at the cabbage rolls, weighing your options.

“Wasn’t real poison anyways,” he scoffed, taking some rolls from himself. “Not my fault sugar and salt look the same.”

You laughed, grabbing some food for yourself at last. “I suppose they kinda do.”

“Ma didn’t wanna hurt my feelings, but I knew when I tried some myself,” he explained.

“It was nice of her to try,” you offered.

“Too nice,” he said. “Ma is always too nice. Never said anythin’ bad about my old man, even after what he did. Had to work three jobs for years because of that bastard, but not a word.”

“Well I’m sure she’s glad she has you,” you commented. “Even if you give her food poisoning sometimes.”

“Once,” he corrected, taking a bite. “Learned my lesson the first time.”

You followed his lead, finding the food to be entirely poison-free, and actually the best home-cooked meal you had eaten in a long time. The conversation moved to swapping work stories, and you were unsurprised to find out that the mother and her the demon children had been a thorn in Sett’s side as well.

“They really buried sleeping sunbathers in sand?”

“Five times in a day one time,” Sett grouchily confirmed. “Last time Braum went to handle it. Said I would bury those little assholes under the sand if I had to go yell at them one more time.”

You sympathized with his pain. You felt lucky that you had only experienced the tip of the annoyingness iceberg with that group of little terrors.

“Braum?” you inquired as you both left the lifeguard office, the beach now fully dark.

“Fellow lifeguard,” he answered, nonchalantly taking your hand in his as you made your way off the beach. “Bald, giant moustache, even bigger than me. Better at the whole gentle-but-firm thing than I am.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen him before. He comes by for poro pops sometimes,” you said, mind drawing a picture of the surprisingly friendly man in the small purple swim bottoms with a weakness for poro-shaped ice pops. “So are you the head lifeguard then?”

Sett considered your question. “Guess I am the boss of ‘em. All of the other lifeguards are always comin’ at me with problems to solve. The extra pay doesn’t hurt either if I wanna keep momma from feelin’ like she has to work.”

“Say thank you to her from me for the dinner. It was really good,” you said as you passed by the familiar tacky souvenir shop.

“She’ll be happy to hear it,” he replied with a soft smile that made your heart thump in your chest. “I know she wishes she had more to cook for than just me.”

You both came to a stop before Taliyah’s house, and you sneakily glanced over just to make sure Taliyah wasn’t peeking out from a window, which she wasn’t. You turned your focus back to Sett, only to find him closer than he had just been. How was he so good at sneaking up on you?

A large hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, and your face was tilted up towards Sett’s. You were glad it was dark out, because otherwise you knew your reddening cheeks would be obvious.

“Still afraid of me?” he asked, voice low, lips so close to yours that you could make out a small scar that crossed over his bottom lip.

“No,” you answered, making no move to pull away as you stared up into his eyes. “Not unless I was about to taste your high school cooking.”

“Smart,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’m talkin’ about right now, because if you don’t turn and run into that house, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your bag almost tumbled from your grasp, but you held fast as you stared at Sett, whose own had already become half-lidded. You had no words to describe how much you didn’t want to run right now, so you didn’t use any, instead angling your face further upwards, trying to make your willingness abundantly clear.

With a grin, he leaned down and kissed you.

Pulling back slightly, he dove back in, his other hand coming to your waist to pull you against him. You happily leant into him, your hands on his firm chest.

When he pulled back again, you opened your eyes at last, feeling almost as dizzy as right before you had passed out from heat stroke.

Sett looked content, and you were only hoping you looked half as composed as he did right now. He leaned back in to give you one more peck before pulling back from you entirely, the cold from the air outside immediately apparent as soon as you were minus his warm hands against your skin.

“Think I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said. “Been cravin’ a cherry snowball for some reason lately.”

 Sett was a man of his word, you learned, though you were less happy to see him the next day when he asked if he could order a cherry snowball served like last time, and then laughed as you had proceeded to sputter like a broken machine.

His visits became daily, sometimes bringing Braum with him, who continued to surprise you with the sheer amount of poro pops he was able to consume in one sitting. Quite a few nights a week, you had found yourself all around Port Navori with the half-Vastayan lifeguard. You were surprised at how supportive Taliyah was being, considering you had originally come here to spend time with her.

“Gives me more time to surf,” she answered with a shrug when you had asked her. “And maybe that boyfriend of yours can convince you to stay here after the summer is over.”

“Boyfriend?” you yelped, and Taliyah raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t? I thought he would have made it official by now. It’s been over two weeks… have you guys even done it?”

“Taliyah!” you scolded her, switching back to professional mode as a group of people approached the stand.

As you helped prepare their orders, you couldn’t help but think about what she had said. You and Sett had kissed quite a lot actually, but he had yet to do more than that. But it was far too embarrassing a subject for you to have the confidence to broach, so you had resolved yourself to just be content with things as they were.

It was just your luck that right then was when Sett had decided to make his daily visit to the stand, approaching the counter as the other group left.

Taliyah apparently wasn’t done pestering you for the day as she sped to meet him at the counter before you could get there yourself.

“Hey!” she greeted Sett with a sly smile as you stood frozen behind her, nervous about her motivations. “You’re on your break, right?”

Sett raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Well,” she said, in the voice you knew meant that she wanted something. “There’s a surfing contest I entered, and it’s almost my turn and it won’t even take that long and–”

“Tali!” you interrupted, rushing over to the counter.

“All I need is an hour,” Taliyah insisted, before pulling you beside her at the counter. “And she needs some help while I’m gone since lunchtime is when most of the people come by.”

“I’m fine, I–”

“I’m in,” Sett cut in, eyeing you with almost palpable smugness.

“Awesome!” Taliyah replied, immediately shucking her apron and hat onto the floor in her haste to get out the door. “Have fun, see you after I win!”

“Taliyah!”

Your call of her name fell on deaf ears as she already had her board and was out the door, leaving you standing at the counter with Sett still leaning against the counter.

Sett reached up to pull his sunglasses off, tucking them into his packet, his golden eyes fully uncovered and sparkling with mischief, the sight alone making you feel weary.

“Well? You gonna invite me in?” he asked. “Not sure I’d fit through the window.”

You scrambled to meet him at the back door, not wanting him to try and get into the shop through the order window that was less wide than he was. It was a strange feeling to open the back door of the shop to a guy that was almost too tall for the doorway, and another thing entirely to try and corral him into behaving as you tried to keep the ice cream stand functioning while Taliyah was gone.

“Aren’t lifeguards supposed to set a good example for others?” you huffed, wiping ice from your apron. At least he hadn’t made things truly equal and put cherry syrup on the ball of shaved ice he had pressed against your neck.

“Not when I’m off the clock,” he answered. “Besides, it’s my once in a lifetime chance to see what workin’ one of these is like.”

It would definitely be only one time if you had anything to say about it. If the almost-hour with him here had taught you anything, it was that Sett was not cut out to work in an ice cream shop.

The scoops of ice cream he doled out were easily twice the size of the ones Taliyah did, which made for happy customers, but a less happy bottom line if he was here for more than an hour. He was also lacking Taliyah’s patience, and you were forced to sideline him when an especially picky middle-aged woman came by who insisted you remake her smoothie four times until it had an acceptable pH level. The woman’s complaints had miraculously stopped the moment Sett had approached the window himself, becoming so invested in flirting with the handsome lifeguard that she had snatched her next smoothie attempt from you without complaint, not even glancing your way as she batted her eyes at him, only leaving when he excused himself with an excuse of needing to make more orders.

You approached Sett to check on him and found yourself pulled down into his lap as he leaned back in the chair.

Huffing, he pulled you against him, nuzzling against your neck. “Don’t know how you deal with that. Couldn’t pay me to make her damn smoothie one more time.”

“You get used to it,” you replied. “Don’t you deal with worse as a lifeguard?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “But nothin’ sayin’ I gotta be nice when I deal with ‘em.”

“That’s true,” you laughed.

“If anyone complains, they can go somewhere else. Ain’t another beach within a hundred miles as well-run as this one,” he bragged, kissing at your neck.

As much as you were enjoying his sudden affection, you knew time was running low until Taliyah would return. You made to pull back to tell Sett that, but were instead pulled into a kiss that took you a few breathless moments to find the strength to escape.

“This Friday,” he murmured, face inches from yours. “There’s a party at the pool. You should come with me.”

You had heard about the exclusive pool parties on this beach from Taliyah, but hadn’t expected to ever get an invite. The pool, which was at the far end of the beach from the ice cream stand, was as exclusive as it got. Gated with walls so high that you couldn’t see in, it was the membership-only place to be for all of the elite in the beach town of Port Navori.

“Is that… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered, and you didn’t really have an answer. “It’ll be fine. Come. Have some people I wanna introduce ya to.”

The door burst open at the same time as you nodded your agreement, revealing Taliyah clutching both her dripping board as well as a shiny blue ribbon.

“You won?” you asked, trying to disentangle yourself from Sett, who reluctantly let you up.

“Easily!” Taliyah gloated. “Nobody else stood a chance. So how were things here?”

“The money ain’t worth the drama of this place,” Sett griped.

Taliyah laughed. “Smoothie lady come back with a vengeance?”

“I’ll take kids buryin’ sunbathers up to their ears over this any day,” he replied with a grimace, standing up and stretching.

At his mention of ears, Taliyah had brought both hands up to her own head about where Sett’s were on his head, and you quickly waved at her to cut it out before he saw. Thankfully she did, but you could tell that you were going to get asked if you had pet his ears yet as soon as his fuzzy ears were out of earshot.

“I’ll text ya the time when I know it,” Sett said, giving you a quick kiss on the head and a two-fingered salute to Taliyah before heading out the back door.

“So?” Taliyah asked, pulling the chair up to the ice cream station after she had stashed her prize ribbon in her bag. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“I didn’t pet them,” you answered.

“It’s been over two weeks!” she complained. “Has he at least asked you to be his girlfriend yet?”

You shook your head. “He did invite me to a pool party with him on Friday at that fancy pool.”

“Really?” Taliyah responded, eyes wide. “You have to tell me what it’s like! I mean, I’ve seen satellite photos, but it’s not the same…”

“I’ll probably be too nervous to remember any of it,” you grumbled.

“This is your chance!” Taliyah encouraged. “By Friday it’ll be three weeks. You need to ask him if he sees you as his girlfriend or not.”

You reeled back, waves of anticipatory anxiety rolling over you. “I don’t want to scare him off. What if this is just casual to him and I’m too dumb to see it?”

“Then you’ll know,” she replied. “I know you. It’ll eat you up if you put this much energy into a guy without knowing how he feels about you. So ask. If he says no, then at least you’ll have an entire store’s worth of ice cream to drown yourself in after!”

Taliyah was right. She was always right. You knew that you couldn’t keep whatever this was up without knowing where you stood with him. The more time you spent with Sett, the more you wanted, and if he intended to keep things casual, you would rather know sooner so you could make an informed decision.

So that would be the plan then. Go to the party, have a good time (and get some photos of the pool for Taliyah) and then ask Sett about the state of your relationship. Sounded easy in theory. You could only hope you could muster up the courage to go through with the plan when the time came.

 After hearing that the party was to start at four, Taliyah had gone all out, closing the stand at two so she could help you get ready to impress the snobs. You hadn’t put up too much of a fight, happy to have her help and her company, as your nerves only climbed higher the closer it got to four o’clock.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah said as she styled your hair. “You’ll only feel worse if you don’t get an answer from him. And with how good you’ll look at the party, he won’t be able to say no!”

“Thanks, Tali,” you replied gratefully. “I promise I’ll get you a bunch of photos of the pool. And whatever else you want.”

“What I want is for you to stay here for good,” she said. “So really I’m just doing myself a favor by helping you. This place has been a hundred times more bearable since you’ve been here, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Still,” you persisted. “I feel bad that you’re going to so much trouble. If you want anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taliyah dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You should get going, don’t wanna be late to the fancy pool party.”

She practically shoved you out the door, and then you were alone, walking down the mostly-empty sidewalk. As you walked along the street, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibilities. What would happen at the party? What would Sett say?

If he told you that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, what would you do? It was hard to have an answer for until you were in the moment, since a lot of it would depend on what Sett’s answer would be.

You walked through the parking lot, and then onto the beach, passing by kids building sandcastles and games of beach volleyball as you walked towards the end of the beach where the pool was. As you made your way to the fancier end of the beach, you began to notice the differences that marked the split between here and the side of the beach that you were usually on.

The shops on this side of the beach were much fancier, the sand littered with designer beach chairs and umbrellas. It was crazy just how different two ends of one beach could be.

The pool was noticeable from a great distance, or at least the wall white walls that surrounded it were. At least you weren’t going to get lost and miss the party entirely.

You approached the pristine white stairs that led from the beach up to the pool entrance, equal parts excited and apprehensive. The entrance was an open doorway, covered by a deep blue curtain and guarded by a muscled bouncer in white. The sight alone was intimidating; why hadn’t you just asked Sett to meet you beforehand?

You plastered a reluctant smile on your face before approaching the man. “Hi, I–”

“Name,” he interrupted, not looking up from his clipboard, sunglasses too dark for you to see his eyes.

Well it wasn’t like you hadn’t expected some level of standoffishness from the elite side of the beach. Keeping your smile up, you told him your name, waiting the prerequisite few moments for him to leaf through the list.

He seemed to have found what he was looking for, as his hand with the clipboard went to his side and he moved over to the curtain, pulling it to one side to allow you to enter. He had said nothing further, but seemed to be staring in your direction, so you took that as your cue and walked towards the now-open entryway and into the pool.

The entryway led into a hallway with pristine white walls, soft lighting hanging overhead. You could begin to hear chatter as you got closer to the end of the hallway, exiting into an explosion of sight and sound.

The pool was huge, and there seemed to be an intricate gold pattern on the tiles at the bottom. The pool was surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas, tropical foliage bordering the inner walls around the pool.

There were people all over, in and out of the pool. There was also a bar in the center which seemed to be very popular, as many people were carrying around intricate-looking cocktails.

More than the scenery or the people, your eyes were scanning the area for Sett. You checked your phone again to make sure, finding that it was the time he had told you to be here for. Maybe he was just running late or…

Your rising concern was broken up by the tap of designer wedges on the granite heading your way. You looked up from your phone to see two girls heading towards you, one of which you realized you had seen before.

The stuck-up redhead that had been the reason you had been out on the beach to spill the snowball on Sett in the first place was striding towards you, not a hair out of place underneath her likely-expensive sun hat. At her side was a lilac-haired woman in a swimsuit with a plunging neckline that was color blocked with various shades of purple. Together they made quite a striking pair, but your previous encounter with the redhead had you wishing that Sett would get here soon to save you from the impending conversation.

“Look, Sarah,” the purple-haired one sneered as they came to a stop before you. “So eager to pretend she’s one of us that she rushed right over.”

You took a step back, but that only seemed to embolden them.

Sarah lowered her sunglasses, staring at you like you were in her way. “Sad when they don’t know their place, Syndra.”

“Sett invited me here,” you replied defensively.

The women exchanged a pointed look before Sarah raised an eyebrow at you, a hand on her hip. “You ever think about why that was?”

“What?” you replied, unsure of what she was getting at.

“She doesn’t get it,” Syndra said with a cruel undertone in her voice that unnerved you.

“Look around,” Sarah said sharply. “Really look. Do half the people here look like they belong?”

You looked around, not sure what you were supposed to be seeing. A man with a hook-nose sat at the pool bar, flanked by women in skimpy bikinis. A humanoid form that seemed to be made of water conversed poolside with a large purple man in a ratty straw hat who was holding a ukulele. What were you supposed to be noticing?

“Sett is too nice to break it to you, so the job falls to me,” Sarah said with a smirk. “This is our annual loser fest. Charity case race. Bring-a-freak-to-work-day.”

“Pig party,” Syndra supplied.

“Yeah, pig party,” Sarah repeated, noticing your confused look. “Don’t know what that is? Poor thing.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s pretty simple,” Sarah interrupted. “We take half the summer to find the biggest freak we can, and then we bring them all together and crown a winner, and by the looks of you, Sett is really going for the top prize.”

You gasped, eyes wide, suddenly feeling like you were going to be sick.

“Aw, you really thought he liked you, huh?” Syndra mocked with fake sweetness.

“He didn’t… he never…” you stammered, clutching your bag to your chest.

“Well duh,” Sarah replied haughtily. “He wanted to win. Do you tell a pig when it’s about to become bacon?”

“What is meaning of this?” Braum accused, storming up to your group. “I have not heard of such a thing!”

“Need-to-know, Braum,” Syndra dismissed.

“And you didn’t need to know,” Sarah added.

You felt numb. This whole time… is that why Sett wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend? Why he never did more than kiss you? All this time, he had just seen you as a prize pig for an ugly date contest? It all made sense now, why he had been so desperate to get your number. He had never liked you… it had all been one sick joke. You should’ve known; nobody as attractive as Sett would ever see you as anything but a freak. And was too cowardly to come and tell you the truth to your face.

“Look, she’s crying,” Syndra taunted. “Don’t cry! Soon you’ll be queen pig!”

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here with all these people who saw you as less than human as your heart was breaking into pieces. You were so, so stupid, now wanting nothing more than to cry in peace. So you did, turning and running as fast as your legs would take you out of this awful place.

“Bye, piggy! We’ll ship you the ribbon!”

You heard Braum shout your name, as well as the cruel laughter of the women, but you didn’t stop running. Not when you got to the beach, nor the parking lot or the tacky souvenir shop, the sayings on the gaudy shirts too blurry to read through your tears. Your feet didn’t stop until you were at the doorstep to Taliyah’s home, out of breath, tears running down your cheeks.

The door opened, Taliyah’s face appearing in the doorway. “Hey, did you forget– wait, what happened?”

 “Settrigh, stay still!”

Sett frowned, but did as his momma requested, allowing her to tie the ends of his hair after she had finished arranging it. He loved his ma dearly, but he really didn’t have time for her to redo his hair ten times right now.

It was getting way too close to the start time he had given you, and with how nervous of a person you were, he had intended to be on time, but that was before his mother had discovered the reason why he was cutting their visit short today.

Ma was aware that he had been seeing someone, had been ever since Sett had needed help making food for their first date.

“You do intend to let me meet her, Settrigh?” she asked, stepping back once she had fixed his hair to her satisfaction.

“Yes, ma,” he answered, standing up from the chair.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by his momma’s eagerness, considering this was the first girl he had ever dated, let alone considered introducing to her. This world was shallow; he had learned that early in life, which may be why he found himself so drawn to a girl who had put her all into having nothing to do with him. You broke up the monotony in this busy beach town and gave him something to look forward to other than seeing his ma for the first time in a long time.

Sett knew he was working on a time limit. You had mentioned that you had planned on only visiting Port Navori for the summer, and the summer was half over already, which meant his chances to convince you to stay were also halved, which is where tonight came in.

He had been taking things slow, not wanting to come on too strong and scare you off like he had watched happen to many a beachfront pick-up artist. He had been unwilling to rush things and lose you, but the slip of the calendar into August had forced his hand.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit apprehensive as to how today would end. How would you take him asking you to be girlfriend? He could only hope that he hadn’t misread you entirely.

He didn’t go to the pool parties often, but it seemed like a good way for him to introduce you to his friends, as they didn’t often all gather outside of those parties. He knew you would likely feel out of place, but Braum would be there, and he intended to stick by your side the entire time. And then after the party, if things went well, then maybe he would end the night with you as his girlfriend, but the party would be the first step.

As he left his ma’s house, he found his mind turning to the party. If you were wearing that red swimsuit you had worn last week, then it was going to be a difficult night for his self-control. His desire to take things slow had really taken a hit then, his only saving grace being ma’s lecture on being a gentleman pounding in his head as he tried not to look at how your chest was half-busting out of your top as you leaned over to pick a thread off of his glove. You were really too hot for your own good, which made him all the more eager to see you.

He knew he was running late, the party having started at least ten minutes earlier. It wasn’t his style to be late, but he was also pretty helpless to defy his ma. He only hoped that you hadn’t given up on him and left.

He took the shortest route possible, which included a short trek through some bushes that left him more leafy than he would’ve liked, but it was all forgotten when he spotted the stairs that led up to the pool entrance.

He was able to bypass the doorman who was only half as big as he was and seemed to be wary of interacting with him, stepping out of the way as Sett approached. He pushed past the curtain, hurried steps heading down the hallway. You hadn’t been waiting outside, so clearly you had been able to get in. He tried to fight back the excited grin that wanted to take over his face, but it was a losing battle as he entered the pool area, eyes immediately scanning the area for you.

“Your cruelty is unimaginable!” Braum’s booming voice carried easily through the air. “That girl has done nothing to be deserving of such treatment!”

What had Braum so worked up? Generally he was an easy guy to get along with, easily Sett’s most tolerable co-lifeguard. Not much phased him, which was a little concerning. But Sett had other priorities, the most important being locating you.

You weren’t in the pool, and didn’t seem to be sitting in any of the chairs. Maybe you had gone to the bathroom and would be right back–

“Well how else was she supposed to know Sett is too good for her? She clearly wasn’t going to see reality without a little help.”

Sett’s ears perked up, his attention snagged by the mention of his name, but especially by the latter half of the sentence. He turned around to see Sarah Fortune with Syndra at her side, who had her arms crossed and looked bored. In front of them was Braum, looking more irate than Sett had ever seen him.

“What’s this about?” Sett asked in a warning tone as he approached, the fur of his ears standing on end, leaving him feeling like he wasn’t going to like where this was headed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Sarah dismissed, flipping her hair behind her shoulder with a flick of her head. “We just showed a daydreaming little clout chaser the way out.”

Sett’s eyebrow rose. “A what?”

“Your ice cream girl,” Braum cut in. “These two have told her that this is a party for pigs. They have told her that you intend to bring her here to win ugly contest, and then she had run off.”

“What?” Sett growled dangerously, but the two women remained nonplussed.

“We did you a favor,” Syndra stressed. “If we get a reputation of letting just anyone in, then we’ll lose all status as members of the ruling class of the food chain. So we decided to throw this little pig party to make you come back to your senses.”

“You’re one of us, Sett,” Sarah added. “This pool doesn’t have room for little nobodies who don’t know their place.”

“Rather be a nobody than whatever the hell this is,” Sett snarled angrily, the full knowledge of the truth turning his bad feeling to a mix of simmering fury at the two women, and worry for you. He hated himself for being late and allowing this to happen to you. “Save your concern and don’t talk to me again.”

“But we were–” Syndra started, but Sett wasn’t in the mood.

“If you even look at her again, you’ll have me to deal with. And unlike that girl you just bullied outta here, I ain’t so nice.”

With that, Sett turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit to go do his best to fix this mess.

Braum quickly followed behind him. “My friend, I am sorry I could not stop them in time.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Sett replied. “Wish I’d have known. Gotta go see if she’ll even talk to me at this point.”

“I wish you luck,” Braum said as exited the hallway and emerged out into the sunny late afternoon.

Sett parted from Braum, taking the stairs two at a time as he surveyed the area, trying to see if he could catch sight of you. He quickly crossed the sand, making a beeline for the ice cream stand, even if it seemed like a longshot. He passed by a group of kids throwing sand on an older man sleeping on a towel, but ignored it and kept going. If anything was on fire, Braum could put it out. Sett’s sole focus right now was finding you and hoping you’d let him explain himself.

His chest felt heavy with anger and regret. How could he have let this happen? He hadn’t realized how cruel those women could be, and it had led to them making you believe he thought you were some freak he was using for convenience, which could not be farther from the truth.

Seeing those two talk about you like you were a pariah had brought him right back to when he was younger, to what he had endured at the hands of people just like Syndra and Sarah. People who had ostracized him, did their best to make him feel like he didn’t have a place here. Sett-the-beast-boy-bastard; the words had haunted him for a long time.

He had grown tough in response to the years of bullying, but you hadn’t. This was your first exposure to how awful this place could be. He and ma had dealt with it for years after pa ran off; he had nearly gotten expelled from school after a particularly bad fight with a kid that had made one too many nasty comments about his ma to his face.

Sett stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh as he saw the large closed sign on the front windows of the ice cream shop. So that was a bust. Without giving the store a second look, he continued on towards the rocks and then up to the parking lot.

There was only one other place to try. Chest tight, Sett followed the same path he had the night of your first date, the same path he took every time he walked you home. The walk there was one long blur, his feet unable to stop moving until the familiar house was in sight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett approached the front door, rapping his knuckles against the wood. When no answer came, he tried again, and after a few moments, the door opened to reveal Taliyah, who glared once she caught sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Is she here? I need to talk to her,” Sett said, urgency bleeding into his voice.

Taliyah sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you after this. You don’t deserve to talk to her if that’s how you let your friends treat her.”

“They ain’t my friends,” Sett argued. “If I’d have known they were gonna pull that shit–”

A sly smile lifted the corner of Taliyah’s lips. “Good answer. If you had said anything else, then I’d be slamming the door in your face right about now.”

“Then can I–”

“Talk to her?” Taliyah interrupted. “Nope. Not a good idea.”

Sett’s face must have taken on a darker quality, because Taliyah retreated back a step, raising her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Relax, tough guy. I didn’t mean it like that. But she’s a little too upset to talk to you right now.”

The information only made Sett feel worse. He wanted so badly to talk to you, to do what he had wanted to do before this mess had happened and make you his girlfriend. You had never felt farther away than you did right now.

“Give me some time to calm her down. I can get her to be at the pier at seven, then the rest is up to you,” she said, levelling him with a stern look. “I know this wasn’t your fault. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a chance. She really likes you, so try not to make her feel any worse than she already does. Bye.”

And then Taliyah was gone, retreating back into the house and leaving Sett standing on the doorstep.

 “Brought you some water,” Taliyah announced as she entered the room, glass in hand.

“Who was at the door?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Someone looking for my dad. Told them he’s not here.”

You nodded. It was probably too much to hope that it would be Sett. You winced as you thought his name. You hated how much you wanted to see him, someone who had used you to win some popular kid ugly date contest.

So it had all been a lie then? All the things he had told you about his life, his family? Every time he had kissed you, was he picturing kissing one of those girls instead? Is this really what popular people did for fun? You felt stupid for falling for it, for falling for him. You were so stupid.

With some prompting from Taliyah, you took a sip of the water. After she had made sure you had drank the whole glass, she sat down next to you, taking the glass from you and setting it down on the bedside table.

“I should have known,” you croaked.

“Known that popular girls are bitchy? Maybe,” she responded.

“That it was too good to be true,” you corrected.

“You’re acting like you’re eighty,” she scolded. “There are other guys out there. Ones who don’t have shitty friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “But I really liked him. And I didn’t even get to pet his stupid fuzzy ears.”

“Well if you’re joking, then you must be doing okay,” she said. “How about we go do something to take your mind off of things?”

You frowned, and she rolled her eyes. “Not right this second. I’ll give you until six-thirty to get yourself ready to go.”

Taliyah got up off the bed and headed towards the door. “I’m not gonna let your night be ruined because of a couple of snobs.”

She closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. You laid back on the bed, intent on taking some time before you got ready to just veg out. As much as the notion of going out didn’t excite you right now, it was probably better than being a mopey mess all night. There would be other guys; it was just a shame that you had liked this one so much.

Two hours later, you were walking down the street with Taliyah. Your getting ready to go had consisted of washing your face of all the smeared makeup from your crying, brushing your hair into a semi-decent state and then watching dumb cat videos on your phone until you felt like you didn’t want to crawl in a hole and die.

Taliyah had assured you that you didn’t look bad, which you might have believed if you hadn’t seen yourself in the mirror as you were leaving, but at this point you were beyond caring about how you looked right now.

Taliyah had refused to tell you where she was taking you, and so you were forced to follow her down the familiar path towards the beach, unsure of where it was you were being led. Part of you was worried that you might run into Sett, but then the more rational side of you took over; he was likely back at that pool, partying it up with those girls and lamenting that you had run off before he could win his ugly date prize. It was crazy to realize just how flawed your judgment had been.

You had expected to be walking onto the beach, as it was where you two usually spent most of your time, but Taliyah didn’t go to the parking lot, instead heading towards the rockier section of the beach. You hadn’t been over here before, only vaguely aware of the area as a prime fishing location, bait shops and the like lining the street across from this part of the beachfront.

She took you past the fishing spots, down to near the end of the beach, where there was a small pier that went about thirty feet out into the sea. Like most of the beach at this time on a weekday, the pier was empty, most of the fishermen also having headed out with their day’s catches.

Taliyah led you down the pier to the small bench at the end of it, pushing you to sit down. When she didn’t do the same, you looked up at her, confused.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m gonna go grab something to help cheer you up. You just enjoy the view for a bit.”

You decided to follow her advice, staring out at the water. There wasn’t much to see other than some boats in the far distance and some buoys bobbing in the water that marked the swimming section from the boating section.

It was kind of nice in a way, the calm waters helping you to relax as you watched the waves roll in and out. You stayed like that for a while as you allowed yourself to zone out until you began to wonder how much time had passed. Pulling out your phone, you saw that it had been almost twenty minutes, and yet there was no sign of Taliyah as you looked around.

You had assumed that she went to get you two some food, which likely was still the case. Some of the places here tended to have rather large dinnertime crowds, so a twenty minute plus wait wasn’t exactly unusual. You had no idea where she had gone, so all you could do was wait. If she wasn’t back by seven, you would just text her and ask what was up.

You let yourself be taken in again by the rolling waves as you continued to wait, trying to recall what kinds of restaurants there were on the beachfront. It couldn’t be that fish and chips place; Taliyah had spent a full half hour last week complaining about how stale their food was. Or the taco place, since it had been closed for renovations for the past week. You had been trying to think of a third option when your concentration was broken by someone taking a seat next to you on the bench.

You looked over, expecting to see Taliyah back with some food, but instead nearly jolted off of the bench when next to you was the very man you were out here trying to forget.

Just seeing him when you were feeling so pathetic sent a jolt of you weren’t sure what up your spine, your flight instincts screaming at you as you made to stand up, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.

“I know you don’t wanna see my face right now,” Sett said. “But I can explain.”

“Explain what?” you replied meekly. “Those girls explained enough.”

“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Just listen for a minute. Then you can leave, or punch me, whatever you want.”

You took a look around, still not seeing Taliyah anywhere. You weren’t sure what he could have to say that would make much of a difference, but you sat back down, and he let go of your wrist.

You turned reluctantly to face Sett, waiting for him to talk first.

“Never told ‘em to do somethin’ like that,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t even know about it ‘til I got there and you weren’t there.”

“But they said…” you started, taking a breath to keep yourself calm as you prepared to recount the hurtful words. “They said you were only spending time with me so you could win their whole ugly date contest.”

Sett’s eyes narrowed, the skin of his knuckles tightening on his curling fists. “First I’ve heard of it. Ain’t no way you’d ever place in an ugly contest anyways.”

His words threw you. “Wait, so you don’t think I’m ugly?”

He snorted, a grin playing at his lips. “Well I was plannin’ on askin’ you to be my girlfriend after the party, so nah, I don’t think you’re ugly.”

“You–” you gasped, pulse skyrocketing. This was not how you expected this conversation to go. You were half convinced you were experiencing auditory hallucinations until Sett reached over, pulling you into his side.

“This is my fault,” he spoke lowly. “If I hadn’t been late, I’d have been there to stop that from happening.”

“What happened when you got there?” you asked quietly.

“Braum told me what happened, then those two tried tellin’ me they did it for my sake,” he growled. “I thought I was used to seein’ through bullies from how I grew up. Doesn’t matter now, they won’t be botherin’ you anymore unless they wanna find out why momma says I got her temper.”

“Why were you late anyways?” you asked.

He groaned, leaning his head back against the bench. Even with the sun mostly set, you could clearly see a pink tone to his cheeks.

“What is it?” you pressed, curious about why the intimidating lifeguard was suddenly being so shy.

He let out a long sigh, finally meeting your eyes. “Ma was doin’ my hair.”

You looked him over, realizing that his hair did seem to be tied differently today. The only thing that looked the same was his ears, just as fluffy as they always looked. You could almost hear Taliyah’s voice screaming in your head to pet them. Speaking of Taliyah…

“Taliyah!” you gasped, trying to extract yourself from Sett’s grip, but failing. If Taliyah was to come and see you here with the guy she had taken you out to forget about… “My friend, she’ll be back any second and–”

Sett laughed, and you were immediately left with the feeling that you were missing something.

“She ain’t comin’ back,” he said amusedly. “I’ve got you all to myself for the night… if that’s what you want.”

“Taliyah set me up?” you breathed, not having suspected a thing.

“I asked her to,” Sett explained. “Wasn’t about to let you go ‘cuz of some shallow assholes.”

Taliyah was much sneakier than you had given her credit for, you realized, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind right now. Though that didn’t mean you weren’t hungry, your previous stress melting away and removing the only distraction from your empty stomach.

“So,” you hummed. “Are you still going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

You still had no idea what would happen by the end of the summer, but you really wanted this. You wanted him.

“Yeah, was plannin’ on it.”

 You had thought about it all the way back to Sett’s house. Was it really for the best to go back to your city when the summer was over? Back to your parents’ house to find an equally demanding and unfulfilling job?

The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to stay. Taliyah was here, Sett was here, and other than your brief nasty encounter at the pool earlier, this summer had been the best one you’d had in a long time.

Sett seemed intent on giving you more reasons to stay as he was on you pretty much as soon as you entered his house. You had been standing in the entryway, looking at a picture of what must have been Sett and his mother when he caught you off guard, picking you up from behind.

You yelped, turning your head back to face him just in time for him to dart forward to snatch a kiss.

“You’ll have time to look around later,” he said as he walked down the hall, nudging a door open with his shoulder and then taking you into what looked to be his bedroom.

Once again, you were scarcely granted a look around before Sett had overtaken your attention yet again. You were swiftly carried over and deposited on the bed, Sett eagerly caging your body down against the sheets with his own.

“I wanted to go slow,” he said against your ear. “Didn’t wanna mess things up. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“No,” you gasped as he snaked a hand under your dress, and then under your swimsuit bottoms. “I… I want…”

“This?” he inquired, thumb brushing against your clit, causing you to jolt against him with a breathy moan. “Waited a long time to hear that.”

Seeking more room to work, Sett pulled back to reach down and pull down your swimsuit bottoms, tossing them to the side. You watched with reddening cheeks as he returned his attention to you, head disappearing under your dress next.

His first lick against your pussy felt back-archingly good, but you didn’t have a lot of room to move with Sett’s hands holding your lower half in place. His tongue felt slightly rough, bringing pricks of pleasure-pain along its path.

Closing your eyes tight, you tried not to squirm, but it was difficult as Sett’s tongue prodded inside you before moving back to sucking at your clit. It felt good, almost too good, but you found yourself wanting more than his mouth against you.

“Sett,” you moaned. “Please…”

You weren’t sure if he got the message until you reached down to grasp at one of his hands. He pulled back from you, wiping one forearm against the wet lower half of his face as he sat back. His position on his knees on the bed allowed you a good look at the decently-sized bulge in the front of his tight swim shorts.

Sett caught your eyes, reaching one hand down to cup his cock through his shorts. “All you, sweetheart. Still think I think you’re ugly?”

You somehow managed to shake your head, speechless from his ardent display of his body. Sett seemed to bask in just how speechless he had made you, a sexy grin overtaking his face as he stared down at you.

“Couldn’t ask for more than this,” he said. “But if you want more…”

He was such a tease. With a burning face, you relented.

“Could you just put it in me please?” you asked, too shy to make eye contact.

“Can do,” he replied, and you could easily hear the smug satisfaction in his voice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett stood up from the bed to pull his shorts off, wincing slightly when he pulled the tight fabric over his painfully-hard cock. Tossing the shorts to the floor, his attention quickly returned to you.

Giving his cock a few slow strokes, he watched you sit up on the bed. Feeling a burst in confidence from his display, you reached down to the hem of your dress’ skirt before pulling it up and off your body, Sett’s hungry gold eyes unable to look away from you as you moved onto your swimsuit top.

Once your top was off, Sett struck, pulling you towards him. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he pulled you onto his lap, reaching around to your front to cup your breasts as his mouth went straight to your neck. His hands were warm against the sensitive skin of your breasts, rolling your nipples under his thumbs as his teeth scraped against a sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his hard cock under you and shifted yourself against it, Sett letting out a deep groan in response. You could feel how wet you were, but this wasn’t enough. You needed to fuck him, needed this building tension to come to a satisfying end for you both.

You turned in his lap, looping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him. Sett was happy to meet tongues with you, one hand resting on your ass until you pulled back from the kiss.

You met eyes with Sett, who began to help you lift yourself up, lining up his cock with his other hand. When he brought you back down onto him, you both sighed as you were fully seated on his cock at last.

“Nothin’ else would feel as good as you,” Sett groaned as he began to help you move and up and then back down onto him. “Never wanted any girl as bad as I want you.”

You were much less coherent, moaning out his name as your hands grasped against his chest. With a further burst of confidence, you reached a hand up to his ear, running your fingers along the fur and enjoying the resulting groan, the next upward thrust of his hips hitting even better into you. Maybe you would leave this out at Taliyah’s interrogation later.

“There,” you moaned as he shifted you in his lap, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “Right there, Sett.”

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling you down into a rough kiss as he held you close, thrusting up into you as you eagerly moved along with him, needing to make this gorgeous man under you cum.

Sett came first, stilling for a moment before pulling you slightly back to put a finger to your clit, letting you cling to him as you followed him over the edge.

Once you had both come back down from the clouds, you were set back gently on the bed so Sett could run off to grab a cloth to clean you up with. You watched him leave the room, still having a hard time comprehending just how you had ended up this situation.

You definitely had some phone calls to make tomorrow. Your parents would be surprised, but you would probably focus on the Taliyah part rather than the new boyfriend part of your reasoning. Taliyah would be overjoyed for sure; you’d have to thank her for her meddling when you saw her.

As Sett returned, you realized something.

“Wait, is your mom home?” you asked in horror. You hadn’t made any effort to be quiet during sex, forgetting about his mother until he re-entered the room.

Sett laughed at your mortified face. “I don’t live with ma, so no.”

“Oh god,” you breathed in relief. “I was worried I was too…”

“She ain’t here,” he replied as he joined you on the bed, handing you the cloth he had grabbed. “You can be as loud as you want.”

You dropped the cloth, burying your head in your hands, Sett’s amused laughter ringing in your ears as you tried to content with just what you had signed yourself up for.

[thrillridesz]

heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs​ + @ickjun​

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ fic playlist: get you to the moon - KinaBeats ft. Snøw | Amnesia - 5SOS | You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift | Confetti Falling - Big Time Rush | Go Season - Devin Bronson (highly recommended for the racing scene) | Love Story - Taylor Swift 

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.