#just an adult trying to keep their hobby to keep them sane with the state of the world as it is

[stariousfalls]

tfw you wanna make more video edits (and oops I fail to cross-post them from my TikTok 😭), but you’re just kinda like uneasy bc TikTok could just be gone in less than 10 days here in the US and you really dunno where to go to since where you’re at the algorithm is actually nice and people are nice in your comments — you’ve already deleted insta and x/Twitter, so your only options are pretty much bluesky (but that’s not really great for video engagement) and/or going back to youtube

I keep forgetting to really post everything on all the apps im on but i just dunno how ambitious i am to try YouTube again when I don’t have my old interests anymore 🥺

[losthomunculus]

Online Safety Relevant to the Current State of the Internet

On twitter I made a tweet about how online safety lessons in school can be very out of touch but that the advice of people who are familiar with the current internet shouldn't be disregarded. So here's my informal collection of online safety tips

Sources: unrestricted internet access since elementary school (not recommended), being a formerly involuntarily home bound person for several years that amassed way too much online experience

This could possibly hold upsetting reminders to people who had bad experiences online including mentions of grooming and emotional manipulation so please proceed with caution!

Information Sharing

Make an online pseudonym for public profiles and websites.

Don’t feel like you have to list everything about you for the world to see.

Sometimes it’s not a question of “can this information be used to locate and identify me irl?”, but simply “do I want this information publicly available and linked to my online persona?”

Unlike offline, being online leaves a constant trail of who you were accessible at all times. People are constantly growing and changing. Try to limit the information you share so you can ditch that trail and start over if need be.

Sharing information with people you make friends with and trust is a judgement call on your part, but always be on the safe side and be protective of your information.

Start as cautious as possible with online safety. Any risks or judgement calls can come later when you are 1. aware of the risks, 2. ready to address them if they occur, and 3. have gathered plenty of information instead of doing something blindly and hoping for the best.

Do not share your triggers publicly, they can very easily be used against you. Instead use websites with a large amount of filtering options to curate your online experience. If you are going to share them, only do it privately with people you trust.

Importance of Boundaries

It doesn’t matter how mature you are, don’t enter age limited spaces you don’t qualify for. It’s disrespectful to the boundaries of the people who made that space. Boundaries like this exist for the comfort of both sides involved.

Just because you can “handle it” doesn’t mean it’s good for you. Desensitization is not something to brag about.

Venting or making r18 posts as a minor on a public account is VERY dangerous. Intense emotional vulnerability is something manipulators will look for as a way to get to you. The same with sexual jokes to develop your comfort talking about those topics casually and eventually escalating the situation. If you are going to talk about such things please keep that in private conversations with people you trust in your age group.

Note the difference between public and private online space. Tweeting something on a public account is not the same as having a conversation in the cafeteria with your friends.

If an adult tries talking to you about r18, run the other way. Doesn’t matter how cool you are, it says something weird about THEM if they’re willing to talk to a minor about that stuff.

If someone( like 3+ years, honestly depends on how old you are) older than you wouldn't be comfortable saying what they're saying to you in front of other people (like a teacher or guardian), that's suspicious as hell. Run in the other direction.

The younger you are, the more age gaps matter. There's a bigger difference in development between a 13 year old and a 17 year old than there is between a 20 year old and a 24 year old. It helps to try to contextualize it with real people instead of numbers. Instead of thinking "oh just 4 years? that's not that weird" consider "oh. that would be like a freshman (13/14) dating a senior (17/18). yikes."

Be just as wary of people your own age talking about things that make you uncomfortable. Just like irl, sometimes you’ll meet people your age that are hurtful.

Friends complain to each other and talk about their issues, that alone is fine. But when people are doing it without permission, draw a line. When people are making it feel like you’re responsible for maintaining their mental health, you need to draw a line. When it starts to effect your mental health, PLEASE DRAW A LINE! I know it feels like your responsibility sometimes, but it’s not. You cannot be there for others if you’re not taking care of yourself first and foremost.

Don’t be afraid to block people. Even for petty reasons. It’s good to block people. Don’t force yourself to see stuff you don’t want to see.

Being Constantly Online

The 24 hour news cycle is not a good thing to follow 24/7. Taking social responsibility is a good thing, but your brain is NOT built to worry about every issue in the world at once. One strategy I use for staying sane is I try to only check the news once a day, and if something needs more attention to set aside an amount of time I’m going to focus on it before I need to take time to step back.

Touch grass. Not literally, unless you can in which case I highly suggest it, sometimes it’s just good to lay in a field. What I mean is you need to dedicate a good portion of your time to being offline (sleep does not count). What your offline time looks like is going to differ depending on your level of ability, but even if you are house bound it’s important to build some hobbies that don’t rely on the internet. Talking to people offline is also a good goal if possible, even just to your housemates.

Social etiquette greatly differs online and offline and sometimes the reminder that were all just Some People gets lost behind the numbers and the fabricated personas. Keep in mind the difference in how information is shared without forgetting that the fact we are all people remains the same.

Be generous with your etiquette. You will avoid a lot of stress if you conduct yourself with the same politeness you would have in an offline interaction. Master the art of "minding your own business" for your own sake.

Arguments and Competition

As soon as you can, you need to internalize the fact that leaving an argument is not losing.

It is inevitable you will be exposed to many people who disagree with you. Some people only want to argue to rile you up. Sometimes that’s not their intention, but it’s what they’re doing. You do not have to remain in conversation with people, especially if they’re not interested in actually coming to an understanding. Even if they are interested, sometimes they just suck!! Leave!! You can leave!!

On that note, sometimes you are going to get valid criticism and it’s going to hurt. That is part of learning. If someone says you messed up and did something hurtful, take a second to step back from your defensiveness and consider: intent ≠ effect. Apologize, repair what you can, and move forward with the ability to do better in the future. You’re going to mess up every once in awhile, it’s inevitable.

To summarize the past two points: don't waste your time on unnecessary hostility but don't close yourself into an echo chamber either. Debates should be about learning.

Sometimes people are not going to like you. This happens offline too but people tend to be a lot more blunt online. Sometimes people dislike you for no reason or for really petty reasons. That’s not your problem, move on.

Don’t actively seek out people you don’t like or who don’t like you to argue with. Whether or not your side is the “right side” doesn’t matter, it’s going to cause you so much unnecessary stress. Feel free to keep posting your opinions on your own profile but don’t seek out unnecessary conflict.

This is a different type of competition than previously mentioned, but be aware of the danger of comparing yourself to other people. Especially if you’re a creative or student, DO NOT GET SWEPT UP IN THE GRIND CULTURE. It’s more subtle in some places than others, but anytime you see the notion that you should be working yourself to the bone be VERY critical. Also be critical of any online cultures (such as gaming and art communities) that brag about unhealthy habits or act like it’s ~part of the culture~ (ex: all nighters, not taking breaks, getting hurt. Any activity that neglects health to work toward a goal).

Not just grind culture, any community of subculture that shares anti recovery sentiments is a huge red flag. Even if they're joking, it's not worth the risk of internalizing those statements.

Everyone’s social media presence is to some degree doctored because it’s a purposefully selected collection of what they allow you to see. It’s fine to like the persona you see being displayed, but never forget that it is not reflective of the entire person. Everyone online is JUST SOME PERSON. Do not forget that and start holding yourself to a standard you can’t even see every side of.

By posting online you are opening yourself to criticism. Whether or not it’s justified can vary, but either way it’s going to happen. Mute stuff, go private, disable comments, etc if you need to.

Misc Tidbits

these are technically just general info that is also good for offline but I have seen things that make me think people online need the extra reminder.

Learn what cults are, how they recruit, and what they do to their members. I'm not kidding. This is particularly relevant at the moment because of current societal unrest and widespread loneliness. No one is immune to cult propaganda, and not every cult is based on pre established religion or family. Many exist ONLINE and are able to manipulate people without ever meeting face to face. (learn more: Loneliness as a Pandemic: The Dangers of Online Cult

Familiarize yourself with the concept of pseudoscience. Please familiarize yourself with the concept of pseudoscience and then learn how to identify pseudoscience. (learn more: Karl Popper, Science, & Pseudoscience: Crash Course Philosophy #8)

Q. How do I know if a source is reliable?

Final Thoughts

It's important people of ALL ages learn these lessons, because the internet is constantly changing and we are all vulnerable when in the presence of other people.

Be cautious and stay safe

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

more thoughts about the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor get brought back to tirion after the war of wrath to be prettied-up trinkets on finarfin’s shelf, with painted-over scars and muffled screams. it is dark, it’s full of all kinds of emotional and caretaker abuse, and the brothers weren’t exactly in a good state of mind before any of this happened. @sunflowersupremes wrote the initial au that wasn’t even meant as horror, @outofangband - this au is as much theirs as mine, several of the concepts here were originally theirs, and a lot of this originally came out in dms with them. part 1 is here. this part contains gaslighting, loss of autonomy right at the end, more suicide mentions (thanks mae) and just general abuse from people who care more about their own comfort than the people they’re supposed to be caring for. it’s worse than the first part, honestly

most of the stuff the fëanorians had on them when they surrendered got taken away pretty fast. which is honestly understandable; some of it was cursed, a lot of it was weaponry, all of it stank to the high vault of the stars

but they both managed to hold onto some personal effects, or get them back before they went in the incinerator. a broken locket, a torn-up book, nothing fancy, nothing large, but things that still mean a lot to them

the valinoreans aren’t entirely comfortable with this. they find a lot of the brothers’ comfort items mildly disturbing, stained with darkness and (occasionally literal) blood as they are. maedhros had this dessicated finger he refuses to explain anything about that got disposed of very quickly

maglor has a few strands of brightly coloured thread, spun around each other somewhat inexpertly. he tends to pull it out when he’s feeling depressed, working it between his fingers until he feels like he can face the world again

one day, one of his minders who gets along better with him asks where he got it. from the twins, maglor admits. it’s part of some embroidery elrond abandoned when they left -

and it’s snatched out of his hands. his minder looks down at him compassionately. ‘i know you miss them, but you caused those boys a lot of pain, you know? you shouldn’t romanticise your relationship with them’

which - maglor’s relationship with the twins was complicated, and while it wasn’t nearly as hellish as elwing fears, it wasn’t entirely healthy. maglor was dependent emotionally on the kids a lot more than any adult should be to children, and vice versa

because the twins were the last people he had left. when maedhros executed celegorm’s servants with no warning at all, this rift began to grow between the sons of fëanor and their followers. they’d always been terrifying, but they’d also been comradely and inspiring, the white-hot stars around which their people orbited. but when they turned their fangs on their own host, all that started to fall away, leaving only the fear behind

it got worse after sirion. by the time vingilot rose in the sky, maglor’s only real remaining relationships were with maedhros, who he hated as much as he loved, and the twins. watching over them, talking to them, not hurting them - it kept him grounded in reality, kept him sane

he knows, he knows, he knows, they’re better off without him. but his time with them is the only happiness in his memories that still feels real

but the valinoreans can’t accept that. the exile was an awful time with nothing in it worth keeping, and the sooner he can recognise that the faster he’ll be back to his old self

besides. their caretakers don’t like being reminded of their more... unpleasant deeds

(elwing sidebar: elwing and eärendil are having an easier time, because the teleri have experience dealing with trauma and are also just more accepting of the right to have your own take on your own experiences. still, though, elwing occasionally hears that a proper telerin mother would have stayed with her children, even if she had to give up the treasure her people died for to the monsters of her childhood nightmares)

(elwing was a young adult in a horrendous situation with no obvious way out, elwing is dealing with her own damage as best she can, elwing is valid, we stan elwing. she’s also one of the few direct-ish sources the noldor have for beleriand and what the fëanorians did there, and her (perfectly reasonable!) perspective colours a lot of their treatment)

in general the valinorean noldor are quite sure they know what beleriand was like and how it felt to be there, and aren’t particularly interested in being proven wrong

it was miserable, it was harrowing, it was nothing anyone should want to think about. it was a long nightmare maedhros and maglor are so fortunate to have finally woken up from

and you can kind of see why they think like that? the ones who have seen the hither shores saw them when ash rained from a void-black sky and almost everything was dead, and the survivors told stories of a long hopeless defeat and cruelties beyond imagining

but that deep black image blots out the genuine joy they felt in those five hundred years, the chance to prove their own greatness, the knowledge they were doing something good, nights when music echoed across the gap, warm hands in a cold fortress. there were things in beleriand worth remembering, aspects of the people they became there legitimately worth keeping

and even if there wasn’t - five hundred years. the scars on their bodies make it plain to see, every little piece of who they are was shaped by beleriand, for worse and for better. they just can’t leave it behind

their valinorean caretakers find this horrifying

maedhros likes to exercise. it keeps him calm, gives him something to do. it’s not something nelyafinw�� was super into - he was more the peripatetic type - but it’s a feasible hobby for a noldorin prince to have, so he’s allowed to do it

sometimes, though, he’ll unconsciously shift into the old combat forms, precisely timed drills ingrained into his bodies. the first few times he does this, his minders are bemused more than anything, but then one day he happens to have a stick in hand to use as a mock-sword

then every time he starts to slip away into that meditative trance, hands reach out to stop him and hold him in place. ‘there’s no need to fight here, maitimo,’ an elf he knew before the unchaining tells him ever so gently. ‘you’re safe now’

... they say that, but maedhros’ nightmares keep getting worse

it’s like that with everything that makes the valinoreans uncomfortable. whenever they try to speak of their time in beleriand, no matter what they say, they’re told that oh, they know it was hard, but it’s all over now and they don’t have to dwell on it

but even after they’ve spent years in paradise, maedhros and maglor still won’t let go and allow themselves to heal

they just can’t come to terms with the truth of their ordeal

the narrative the valinoreans have constructed erases all of the bright spots, but it also bleaches out the true darkness

certainly they did horrible things, but did they really have a choice? in such a harsh world, they always had to be on guard, lest they themselves be killed. these poor boys never meant to harm anyone, but their father’s cruel madness and the painful chains of their oath and the vileness of beleriand forced them into atrocities they never wanted to commit

(surely the monsters the sindar spoke of wouldn’t cry. they wouldn’t lose themselves in waking nightmares or curl up shivering in well-hidden closets, they wouldn’t jump away from a casual touch or watch every new person like they might be a threat. they wouldn’t convince themselves the children they stole were happy, or talk to the shade of a dead kinsman they abandoned. surely they wouldn’t. surely)

(because if they are, and they’ve let a couple of orcs loose into the royal palace...)

(maglor and maedhros’ movements are pretty restricted. this is mostly for their own protection, but it’s partially - well, just in case. just in case)

this rankles at maedhros, though he tries not to show it. terrible they might have been, but his choices were his own

he was a warlord, he was a king. he expected to be hated for the things he had done. he didn’t expect to be pitied. he didn’t expect to be dismissed

sometimes, when he’s surrounded by people earnestly telling him that he’s not a bad person, he never was, it was all pressure from his father and the oath, he wants to scream that he chose to attack sirion because he was so, so tired of diplomatically dancing around problems he knew he could solve with his blade

but he stops himself, always. he knows how much what little freedom they do have is based on them not being a threat

and he will not wash this peaceful, innocent land in blood. he’ll kill himself first

maglor has lost all such scruples

it’s not often, but when they’re behaving themselves and no one who’s likely to take offense is in town, the brothers get taken out to court events

they paint makeup over their scars (which still won’t heal, everyone is concerned by the implications of this) dress them up in finery, string them with jewels, and show off how well they’re doing

(even if maedhros rarely says anything, and they never leave each other’s side)

tonight, it’s a feast. a minor celebration, nothing too crowded, nothing too loud. there’s revels and merrymaking and all kinds of fun

and after the food has been cleared away, there’s music

would his nephew like to play something, finarfin asks. it’s hard to tell if it’s a request or a politely phrased order

maglor decides he doesn’t have the patience to be taken aside and tell how much everyone wanted to hear his music, and accepts

finarfin smiles kindly. he’s thinking about how maglor’s minders have been talking about how he’s finally stopped trying to sing depressing or horrifying songs and how his voice grows more melodious by the day

maglor is thinking about how they won’t even let him sing about his wife. he wrote no odes to her beauty or her skill in the forge, but he sang ballads about the swiftness of her spear and her laughter after a battle

none of which the valinoreans want to hear. they want to pretend that love never existed, that there could be any joy found in darkness, that she’s at all worth remembering -

he gets up to play, and launches into the most vicious, most hopeless, most painful part of the noldolantë

they try to stop him, but he’s the greatest warsinger the world has ever seen, he’s sung with blood in his lungs over the roaring of dragons, there’s little they can do to block out everything they’re trying to ignore. he wails defeat and death and grief and death and despair and death

when they finally manage to knock him out, their whole petty festival in tatters, shock on their faces, tears streaming from their eyes, all he can think is that if they understand now, even a little, it’ll have been worth it

for the first time, but not the last, he wakes up in a cell

finarfin comes to visit, and starts giving a very disappointed lecture maglor is in no mood to hear. instead he just snarls that nothing they’ve been doing is helping him at all, and he’s so sick of false sympathy and no one listening to what his actual problems are

finarfin shuts his eyes, says ‘i’m sorry to hear you feel that way’ and leaves

a few days later he wakes up with a collar around his neck

it’s demeaning, but he gets released that morning, so he rolls with it. he gets told to never do that ever again, first by his minders and then by maedhros

his minders he nods at until they leave him alone. maedhros he snarks back at that it’s not like he’s doing anything to improve their condition

only he can’t

the words don’t just freeze in his throat, they can’t even form in his mind. what’s happening, he can’t say. what did you do to me, he can’t say. he can’t even scream

as maglor is clutching at his neck (he can’t get it off he can’t get it off) and all the colour is draining out of maedhros’ face, the minder in the room smiles

‘see? this way you’ll stop making yourself and everyone around you miserable. you can still talk about happy things -’

‘they did this in angband!’ maedhros roars, a statement that provokes his first actual fight with their minders. he’s harder to pin down than maglor. bigger

but their caretakers are becoming annoyed with the brothers’ obstinate refusal to let themselves get better. they may be content to wallow in the misery of their past, but inflicting it on others is a step too far

they clearly aren’t going to move any further down the road to recovery on their own volition, so it’s become clear they need a gentle push. is it a little distasteful? yes, but such things are sometimes necessary in medicine

the bright cheerful princes they will be again will thank them for it

oh god how did this end up so long. the last one should be shorter, it’s mostly clearing up some loose ends. why did i write this

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part Two)

Finally, that Donna Summer song is over… Although disco is not my favorite genre, I have nothing against her generally but now… the part in which she’s repeating “Hot-hot-hot-hot stuuuuff” reminded me of the sound of the rototiller which would break down in every single winter and my grandpa would always have to try for hours and hours to breathe life into it in spring. And the music was also way too loud in comparison to the fact the clientele of this place consists mostly of exhausted truck drivers who only want to chill to Chris Rhea’s Road to Hell. If they wanted noise, they would go to a strip club to see Miss North Carolina ’86 dropping her clothes to something from AC/DC. Probably Highway to Hell. Variations on a theme. But probably this little dump doesn’t even have a proper strip club.

Luckily, this shabby roadhouse has a separate room for pool tables; it’s pretty hidden and easily approachable without being noticed. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the guys… okay, that’s also a part of it, we’ve been basically locked in a tour bus, concert venues and hotel rooms since last September. We’re each other’s company all the time, the only place where I can spend a few hours by myself is basically the ever-changing setting of my incoherent dreams. Only mentally, of course, since basically there’s always someone snoring around. And of course, they also keep showing up in random scenarios and with people they don’t even know but that’s the point of dreams, your brain forces you to put jigsaw puzzle pieces together that don’t match. Or they do, you just don’t know about it… Long story short, there’s no way to get rid of these dudes… Okay, it sounds as if they annoyed me… shit, they do annoy me more and more often and I hate this feeling. We’re basically friends; we wouldn’t be able to play in the same band if we didn’t get on well. But before we started touring, we’d all had our own circles including friends and colleagues, different hobbies, natural habitat… and music and the band had been only the intersection of them. We met when we had to do something as a band, we spent time together to write songs, rehearse, record… and in the remaining time, everybody lived their own life. That we don’t have anymore.

Usually, I try to not see only the dark side of this situation but now, I’m not feeling able to put on a smiley face. Maybe the fact that my whole digestive system is burning doesn’t help either… I bought a cola at the gas station next to the bar and smuggled it in under my jacket. That’s the only piece of advice of the doctor that is also useful under tour circumstances. I mean, I can’t just drop everything and lie down when the pains are coming, I can’t spend my evening sitting on the loo when I have to play a gig and who cares about diet when you can’t even eat or sleep on a regular basis? But cola is always there, no matter where I am. It’s the only thing that eases my nausea effectively and isn’t very conspicuous at the same time. And this one is as cold as ice, it feels good to press the bottle to my stomach as I’m crouching in fetal position in this armchair. Although the doctor probably wouldn’t approve, I spiked it with a few drops of rum. To be honest, they were bigger drops but I finally wanted to empty my flask. I decided to give up drinking spirits, beer makes me unpredictable enough and mixing drinks only fucks my digestion up too.

“Here you are, finally! I knew you were somewhere here too!”

So much for hiding…

“Hi, Karrie…”

“Man, you’re missing the best parts… some local chicks started courting the guys, they even got them to dance…”

“Awesome…”

“Mike, can you hear what I’m telling you? I said the guys were made to dance… I mean, the guys such as Jeff, Dave and Stone… and dance, like, moving the body rhythmically to the music… Although the girl who picked Stone had a difficult job…”

“Let me guess: she failed.” I remark in a bored voice and shake the bottle in small circles not to waste a drop of my drink.

“Mike? Is something wrong with you? Normally, you would basically drop everything and rush there to see the end of the scene but… yes, something’s wrong with you...” she answers her own question with a concerned face sinking down slowly onto the other armchair.

“I’m fine…” I mumble as I embrace my knees and lean my chin against them.

“Mike, I haven’t known you for a long time but I’m pretty sure that sitting alone curled up like a hedgehog is not your normal state. The pains, again, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t like being taken for an idiot. Ninety percent of my job basically consists of watching every move of yours and trying to figure out your needs before you would even think about them. Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re suffering?”

I should have known. She usually stays in the background, doesn’t meddle in the business of the others but she’s all ears and eyes… she knows everything about us.

“All I know is that it must be something with your stomach or intestines… I don’t know exactly how serious it might be but it seems to be serious enough to be treated…” she goes on ignoring my stubborn silence. “Have you already seen a doctor? Have you already been diagnosed?”

I’ve seen several ones. I have a diagnosis. But I doubt she wants to hear the detailed description of my medical history, in particular the analysis of that delightful feeling when objects are being put up into your butthole.

“Do the others know about it?”

Oh, sure… like the inexhaustible source of Stone’s stupid anal jokes needed any feeding…No, thanks. And enlightening the others about the fact that pissing in the corner and running around naked aren’t the only sorts of accidents happening with me from time to time isn’t one of my top priorities either.

“Look, Mike, you’re an adult. Legally, leastways. I can’t tell you what to do and I’m finished with the heart-to-heart, I promise but… come on, all I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel ashamed and you can live a quality life whatever your problem is, for example Effie…”

“Effie?” I try not to sound like a maniac but I almost kick the table over as I jump back in regular sitting position. “You mean she…?”

“Hasn’t Judy mentioned it?”

“What?” I ask so far as I’m able to speak at all due to the lump in my throat that grew out of nothing of the mere mention of her name.

“She’s been waiting for new kidneys, or at least one new kidney for months. It’s pretty difficult to find a suitable donor for her… but she’s optimistic, as always. And also angry a bit but it only helped her move on.”

“May I ask… what happened to her? I mean, I understand if it’s not public or…” I try to form coherent sentences, which is not that easy at all after this shock therapy.

“It’s not a secret, it’s the result of medical mistakes.” she starts telling the whole story. The chain of her ordeals is more than simple misfortune, and honestly, as I’m trying to recall that compelling but still playful voice, it’s difficult to believe her life depends on permanent medical help. “…and that’s where we are now.” she finishes with a deeps sigh.

“Poor girl…”

“She’d cut your throat if she heard you. She hates being pitied and tries to keep her life in the normal track very hard, limits and obstacles have always annoyed her… but she’s not that kind of girl to whom you can explain that life can be complete without sky diving, rock climbing or space travel too.” she shrugs with a bittersweet smile.

“Does that mean she keeps going on with her studies and…”

“That’s the problem. She’s suspended her studies, gave up her student jobs but she’s already regretted it. And Annie, I mean, her mom is overconcerned and wants her to rest and stick around until the transplantation will have been carried out. And that’s one of the reasons why I recommended Judy as my replacement…”

“They need money…”

“Yup. But the point of my coming up with Effie’s case is to make you understand you’re not alone, having an illness is not a shame but I hate clichés so I rather shut up. I don’t want to lecture you, I would just feel guilty if I didn’t even try to talk about it with you.”

“I have already heard so much about her… do you have a picture of her or something? I’m curious… I mean, it’d be nice if I could connect a face to all those awesome stories…” I hear myself talking. Gaah, I don’t want seem to be pushy or a psycho stalker but I need to see her face.

“Uhmm, I used to keep a few family photos in my wallet, if you’re lucky I still have them…” she begins to rummage in her purse. “Ah, here it is. But no, that’s an old one.” she puts the picture back before I could take a look at it.

“NO, I WANT TO SEE IT.” I grab her forearm. “Please…?” I soften my voice seeing her puzzled expression. So much for avoiding deranged behavior.

“She was like seventeen when it was taken, it’s the yearbook photo from her senior year I guess.” she hands it to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting or if I was expecting anything at all but one thing I know: I wasn’t prepared for THIS. Judy mentioned she was blond and had blue eyes and normally, I would pair this combo with a Barbie-type girl in my imagination. But she’s everything but a Barbie-doll, her clear, shining, honest eyes stare into the camera with some cautiousness but if you examine her face carefully enough, you can discover hints of impishness playing around her lips and those tiny freckles around her nose and her skin that was still wearing the last kiss of late summer sun when the picture was taken… Jesus ‘Cready, you’re not a poet, you’re not even sane. Yes, I must have lost my mind, I’m hearing music in my head… “Drea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream…”

“Mike… Mike… Miiiike…” I find myself in the reality again when Karrie snaps a couple times with her fingers in front of my face. And I realize I didn’t grow a DJ in my mind, the song of Everly Brothers is actually playing in the bar.

“I take this now back, I found another one.” Karrie has to basically disentangle my clenched, grabby fingers from the photo but my eyes are still glued to the face in it, greedily collecting the tiniest details until it disappears in the wallet. “Here.” she pushes the other picture in front of me. “It’s from last year, I think, her hair is curlier here but that’s her natural look, she doesn’t have it straightened too often.”

The second photo gives that human tornado, that young woman clearly back whom I’ve imagined so many times since that very phone call and of whom now I know that she’s officially out of my league. It’s definitively confirmed, not that I had any chance to meet her in real life or at least talk to her again…

“You know what? You should consider talking with her about it. I think she’d understand it better than any of us.” Karrie remarks casually while sliding the pictures back into their place.

Oh. Yes. Sure. Why not call this angel to tell her I’m a disgusting pig who doesn’t have the slightest control over his metabolism, lets out disgusting sounds involuntarily and shits in his pants at least once in a week. Yes, that’s something I would totally chat with her about…

“It’s just an idea, I’m sure Judy would help you find a way to get in contact with her… of course, only if you want to…”

“Houston, we have a problem… Karrie… there’s a situation… we need you…” Scully basically falls into the room breathlessly.

“Jesus, what happened?” she jumps up terrified.

“It’s Judy… you should go after her…” he gasps pressing his hand against his right side. “I’ll tell you on the way…”

“Sorry Mike, we’ll talk about it later…” she shouts back on leaving.

At least my interrogation is over and I can spend some time alone since the others seem to be busy with that “situation”, whatever it is… Maybe I could practice pool tricks, I still haven’t given up my goal to beat Stone at least once in this lifetime. Even if we aren’t playing against each other, he keeps bothering me with his sarcastic comments and doesn’t let me try things in my own way, I can’t really improve my pool skills when he’s around.

After playing a few rounds against myself and winning, of course, I realize the pains have almost gone… It’s so weird, you immediately notice discomfort but you’re always unaware of the lack of it for a while, especially if you manage to direct your thoughts on something else. I guess I should look for the others, I hope Judy’s okay…

“Sorry” an unknown female voice addresses me with a short cough “have you got light?”

***

„So… what’s the plan?” Dave asks leaning on the counter with his elbows facing towards the tables.

“What plan?” I ask back positioning myself in the same way to be able to take a look around.

“For the evening… with the ladies.” he winks meaningfully.

“I don’t know… I guess we’re just hanging out. But why are you asking me? It is you and Jeff who are allowed to have any plans with any ladies… I have a beautiful girlfriend at home, remember…” I answer and I feel my lips pulling in a wide grin; I can’t help, I’ve developed this instant reaction that occurs whenever my gorgeous blondie is on my mind.

“How could I forget… you’d never miss an opportunity to rub this fact in our face. Anyway, Jeff doesn’t seem to be interested in them either, for obvious reasons…”

I squint at the pinball machine where the two second fiddles whose names I’m simply unable to recall are trying to break their personal records. I don’t really get why they think screaming helps them keep the ball on the play field but at least they prevent Jeff from falling asleep; he’s suppressing one yawn after another while stealing glances alternately at the basketball match on the TV screen and the table around which Scully, the slightly deranged leader of the girl bunch and our pocket-sized roadie are having an apparently deep conversation.

“He shouldn’t torture himself, his obvious reason doesn’t give a fuck about his awkward performance.”

“You can never know. Maybe she ignores intentionally that he’s ignoring her intentionally. But I guess you’re happy about it, the super professional band leader who’s against within-band hook-ups…”

“You know my opinion…” I shrug. “Just think about Fleetwood Mac and what happened to them.”

“Uhm, they became a world-famous top rock band?”

“You’re right! Come with me in the restroom, NOW!”

We both burst out in a dirty, tipsy laughter and it takes a few minutes until we calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So, what are your plans?” I nudge him still shaking of warm-down snorts from time to time.

“I guess if the dynamics don’t change very quickly in the opposite direction, Jeff will vanish in less than ten minutes… and I’ll have to sacrifice myself and keep both chick entertained in the rest of the evening. But I don’t mind, they’re both cute.” Dave takes a sip of his beer wiggling his eyebrows satisfied.

“Both chick? What about… Caledonia?” I nod towards the black-haired alpha female of the trio.

“Her name is Claudia, geez man, you’re hopeless… but no, thanks, her behavior reminds me of that psycho woman in Fatal Attraction too much.” he frowns. “Stoney, be a man and do what you gotta do.”

“…which is…? Jesus, I’m not interested in any random girl I encounter and as you said, she’s totally insane, while we were dancing…”

“… while she was dancing…”

“… I felt as if I had been caught by a boa constrictor that was squeezing me tighter and tighter and I swear, it must have been an extended, super long version of Hot Stuff, I thought it would never end, like, it was at least three minutes longer than usual…” I go on since I’m not willing to react to his undisguised reference to my dance talent.

“Just go back to her, have a polite chat with her and say bye in half an hour… maybe I can keep Jeff here and you can use each other as excuse for leaving. I’ll be here and keep an eye on you and in case she gets out of control, I call the local herpers to catch her.” Dave presents his concept about the strategy I should follow.

“Herpers against herpes, it sounds like the name of some non-profit organization... Okay, approved but if I start yelling “red code”, you launch the rescue operation, that’s the signal.”

“Just go finally, the sooner you begin, the earlier you can get out of here.”

I grab my beer and walk to the small company around the table but as soon as I arrive, all its members fall suddenly silent.

“What’s up, Scully? Hi Claudia.” I greet them and get a dark look from the third person whom I’m trying to ignore to get away with the situation as simply as possible.

“Scully… what kind of name is that at all?” Claudia mutters listlessly; for some unknown reason her energetic behavior has gone; she’s playing with her hair bored leaning her face against her palm.

“There are some who call me… Tim.” Scully uses the occasion to crack a Monty Python joke.

“Tim the Enchanter.” I finish the quote basically swallowing the last syllable since I hear the other girl uttering the same words simultaneously.

“Is that some inside joke of yours?” Claudia mumbles unwillingly.

“Kind of.” I answer in the same style. “But his real name is Timothy, that’s the truth.”

“Anyway, these weird nicknames are pretty common in your crew. Scully… Stone… I wonder how you got this one.” she goes on in a monotonous voice. It’s strange, she doesn’t sound like someone who feels like having a conversation at all. Maybe she’s that depressed type of drunk.

“Guess what: from his parents.” the annoying little smartass answers instead of me raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Your name is almost as bizarre as you.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don’t mind if she spares me an uncomfortable talk and leaves me alone before I would ditch her but why is this turnaround?

“Judy, you promised you were going to play foosball with me! Come, the tables are finally free!” Scully jumps to his feet pulling his colleague by her hand.

“What? I didn’t promise anything, I…”

“Come on, you have a mind like a sieve, of course you did! We could invite the others too and you could teach us those mind-blowing tricks!” he drags her enthusiastically in the direction of the foosball tables; she seemingly protests a little but finally gives in and follows him reluctantly.

“Uhm… I hate to admit but she’s a first-class player.” I speak up with a sentence I didn’t want to say at all but the urge to break the awkward silence was strong enough that my mind forgot to look for better topics.

“Wow.”

Gosh, I’ll need anti-depressants, if she goes on like this.

“I everything okay?” I try to look in her eyes. “I mean… you seemed to have fun when you came over, you even danced… but now… I mean, if it’s a private thing, you don’t have to answer…”

“Stone… you are a really nice guy and all, handsome, actually funny but… I don’t think we would match.”

Thank God. But something I can’t explain makes me ask for the reason instead of confessing I’m not available anyway.

“Oh. I see. And… what makes you think we’re too different?”

“I don’t know… there are just so many antagonistic characteristics… For example, I don’t like animals. I mean, I just can’t get on well with them, I don’t even like watching documentaries on them.”

“I love them, I have a cat called Red and I love dogs too, my family has always had dogs. But I know there are people who feel strange when animals are around, I’m okay with that… what else?” I inquire; the suspicious feeling keeps telling me something’s not okay here, something’s FUCKIN’ not okay here. Maybe if I ask further questions, I get closer to the reason of her behavior.

“I don’t eat red meat at all.”

“Haha, then we have something in common. I have vegetarian phases from time to time and I’m right in the middle of one. I have nothing against meat but I only consume them at special occasions.”

“But that’s the point, I hate these special occasions!” she blurts out passionately. “And I loathe even the smell of beef, let alone touching it.”

“I repeat, I can live without it.” I laugh. “And… your concern about differences is really sweet but I have to tell you something: I have a girlfriend at home, we’ve been together for months so…”

“I know! And you’re so lucky to have someone who accepts you the way you are, even if your taste is everything but ordinary and…”

Let’s wait for a second… how does she know about Amber? And what’s this babbling about my quirky style? And what was this madness about animals and meat? My mind switches to replay mode and I try to recall the moments of the evening double-time… I see ourselves arriving, them coming to our table, us dancing to the fast-forward version of Hot Stuff, them disappearing in the restroom, them getting back from the restroom and joining Scully and J…STOP! Her. That. Little. Shit. It could be only her. She must have said something about me, something crazy shit, because that’s what she’s doing all the time, she tries to turn everybody against me and ruin my reputation and… Okay, first I have to get rid of Claudia, it’s not her fault, after all.

“Thanks for saying that, it’s very nice from you. And I’m sure, sooner or later you’ll find a guy who really fits you. I hope I didn’t hurt you but I don’t really like to talk about my private life. But I guess my friends enlightened you about the details to avoid misunderstandings…” I squint at her playing the gentle refusal routine. If my presumption is correct, it’ll turn out here and now.

“Oh yes!” she jumps on my words immediately. “Judy told me everything. She cares about you a lot, she’s such a good friend!”

“She is.” A good friend of cheap tricks and pretended innocence. But she’ll pay for this. “Her problems are usually similar to mine so we are pretty much on the same wavelength.” Whatever it is, I throw the shit back at that viper. “But this is so awkward and I don’t want to waste your time so… I wish you all the best and good luck with guys!” I stand up already thinking about medieval methods of torment I would gladly try on that two-faced dwarf.

“Thanks… and be happy with that lucky girl!” she sends a saddish smile and I feel guilty for a second for leaving her alone right when she stopped playing the role of the tempting seductress. But while I’m walking to the foosball tables, my thoughts are going back to my unfinished business with that hypocrite, mean…

“No, Scully, the point is in the right angle, look, I don’t shoot the ball until… hey, Scully, you’re not even watching… oh.” she suddenly falls silent and flushes as she follows the gaze of the pale, petrified guitar tech in my direction as I arrive to them. He was obviously trying to save her ass but I don’t blame him, he hates fights, he probably feels being between two fires.

“You know what? I’m also dying to learn more about your little tricks.” I stop at the foosball table with folded arms.

“Oh my God, I love tricks.” Claudia’s enthusiastic friend chirps from the other side of the table. “What? I do love them!” she whines not decoding the strict face the third member of their bunch sends at her after nudging her to finally shut up.

“S-sure, I gladly show them to you too…” the manipulative little beast stutters.

“Face-to-face.” I cut her off in my coldest voice and I can basically hear how hard she just swallowed.

“Ugh… let’s look for Jeff and Dave.” Scully steers the two confused, reluctant friends of Claudia out of range basically tossing them towards the bar counter.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asks almost cheerfully; what an acting performance.

“Oh, I want to know a lot of things… if aliens exist… where the other half of my favorite pair of socks might be… what’s the equivalent of blushing at chameleons… why Claudia suddenly started treating me as if I was a leper…”

“They do. Probably in Jeff’s suitcase. You can’t embarrass a reptile. Maybe she has finally seen the light…” she lists her answers shrugging nonchalantly. “But I guess it’s a relief for you, so we’re happy now, huh?”

“It depends. I wonder if someone helped her out with some useful information about me…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… not that it matters as for the result…” she starts spinning the sticks in the table for no reason, since no one else is around, it’s probably just a pathetic excuse for avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I like to decide on my own with whom I want to spend my time.”

“Do you absolutely exclude the possibility of other people feeling the same way? What if she just didn’t enjoy your company?”

“That’s not impossible but the marvelous change in her behavior makes me think something happened either in the restroom or at the table… and guess what? You were there the whole time too.”

“Are you stalking me? Jesus, should I have reported what I was doing at the loo? And I’m even sitting at tables, holy shit, that’s a federal crime.”

“She herself told you on. I haven’t figured out yet what you told her but I know Scully like the back of my hand; he’s obviously trying to cover for you but keeping secret and acting aren’t his strengths. Sooo… you can play dumb but it’ll take me less than two minutes to get everything out of him.”

Her hands stop fidgeting in the second she realizes there’s no point in denying.

“If you’re convinced that much, then why are you asking me? Just execute me here and now…” she stretches out her arms playing the role of the innocent, targeted victim.

“Nah, you can’t get away with it so easily. I wanna know why you did what you did.” I stand in her way since I can see her eyes mapping the possible escapes.

“Why do you want to know why I did what you think I did?” she asks back still keeping the poker face. She still thinks she can win, unbelievable.

“Well… it’s just interesting. Jeff and Dave danced with those girls too but as far as I can see, their popularity hasn’t decreased, I wonder why…” I turn around for a second and nod towards our table where the guys are laughing hard at something with Scully and Claudia’s friends, Claudia seems to have been vanished in the meantime, though.

“Because they don’t have girlfriends...” she remarks earnestly staring at them, not even noticing she broke the character.

“So that’s it? That’s why you did it? You think I can’t even look at other girls since I’m not single?”

“You just shouldn’t. I mean, you found a girl who meets your special needs, you wouldn’t have such luck once again in this lifetime.” she sits back on the high horse again.

“What special needs?” I ask eagerly hoping I can finally put the whole picture together.

“I don’t know, four boobs, tiny brain, large bed, I guess…” she goes on with the bullshit.

“That’s you theory about my needs? Wonderful… So you think I would have cheated on my girlfriend without your machination?” I raise my voice.

“I didn’t say that…”

“Did I kiss her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I hug her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I grope her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Then what the fuck did I do that bothered your sensitive soul so much that you dared intervene in my business?” I lean over her making her back away.

“You laughed and…”

“What?” I scream. “You think me laughing with someone wearing skirt makes you entitled for shit-talking? You’re insane. You know what? You can play the self-proclaimed moral police of the crew or Seattle or the whole fuckin’ universe, I don’t give a fuck. Just leave. Me. Alone. Mind your own love life. Oh, wait? You don’t have one? Maybe that’s the problem?” I cover my mouth with my palm pretending shock.

“Screw you, Gossard.” she whispers hoarsely and tosses me away with her shoulder rushing past me.

***

I catch her at the entrance, in front of the building. Scully was right, she seems to be pretty upset.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!!!” she shouts emphasizing the last “shit” by kicking at full strength in the dumpster standing on the side of the road. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she bounces with painful groans on one leg until she almost loses her balance and limps back to plop down onto the curb.

“I heard that Converse was planning to launch steel toe sneakers, first I thought the brand managers were tripping on something but seeing you it totally makes sense.” I remark as I take place next to her with the moves and in the pace of a seventy-year-old woman; this position is anything but comfortable for my permanently aching knee.

“Ha, very funny. I should have kicked him in the balls. With steel toe boots…” she mumbles taking her foot in her lap. “I hope I didn’t break my big toe.” she tries to make a diagnosis by palpation.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re talking about the genitalia of Stone Carpenter Gossard.”

To my biggest surprise, it’s not the anatomical term that catches her attention.

“What? Carpenter?” she asks snickering but she also wipes out an involuntary teardrop with the back of her hand from the corner of her eye in the meantime. Whatever happened, it must have actually hurt.

“Yes, that’s his middle name. But: you didn’t hear it from me. And, I know the temptation is huge but try to keep this information until you can use it with cool head.”

“I’m as cold as an icicle.” she sniffles bitterly.

“As a melting icicle.” I stop a next teardrop rolling down on her face with my thumb. “Come on, what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just so sick of it. So sick of him.”

“What has he done?”

“You mean apart from getting addicted to oxygen twenty-something years ago?”

“Did he say something?” I ignore her sarcastic response.

She laces her arms around her knees and begins to examine her shoes.

“Did he do something?”

She insists on remaining silent and resists my interrogation pretending the patterns on her socks require all her attention.

“Or didn’t he say or do something? That’s the problem? Look, I don’t have to care about your childish quarrel. I just wanted to check if you’re okay since Scully was worried about you. But frankly, maybe too many people are already busy with trying to keep your war over sandbox toys under control.”

“You could finally decide on whose side you are…”

“Obviously on Stone’s. But it has practical reasons, Mike mentioned once he had drunk expired beer during a gig with his previous band and he’d vomited in the amplifier…” I try to ease the tension. “But Jesus, Judy, joke aside, I’m on nobody’s side, of course. I’m just trying to help but if I don’t know what happened, I can’t. And I’m helpless since believe or not, I know he’s a really great guy and I also know you’re an awesome chick and honestly, I have no clue why your arrival has turned him completely inside out.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just… so sick of him.”

“You’ve already said that.” I fish a tissue out of my pocket and hand her so that she doesn’t use her forearm to clean her nose.

“You know… he’s not the first smug prick I have to deal with, I met enough of them at Juilliard… but usually, I just ignored them.”

“Then why don’t you ignore him too?” I ask although I know there are several reasons that make this idea extremely difficult.

“I’m not in the position in which I could pretend he’s invisible. And inaudible. I mean, letting it slide sounds like a way that could be even effective, maybe he would get tired of torturing me after a while… but it’s not like high school bullying, I don’t have years to get rid of him, at least you have a glimmer of hope every year there that maybe the bullies find a new victim in the freshman class… But… despite what this whole situation looks like, this is the adult world. This is my job, the management is my employer and if the band is not satisfied with me, I’m going to be fired.”

“But they are satisfied with you…”

Her disbelieving expression makes me correct my sentence.

“They are not dissatisfied with you…”

“Stone is. And he’s the leader and main songwriter of the band so if it came to a dealbreaker… guess who would draw the short straw.”

“Who talks about a dealbreaker? At this point, you’re my trainee. You’re under my protection.”

“And you know what’s the most irritating part? That I’m trying, I’m really trying… I do everything to fulfil his wishes…”

“…which are often ridiculous, let’s be honest. I mean, he’s an immensely talented musician but he… all of them have to learn that being loud and raw isn’t the most important thing…”

“Exactly… I just want to turn up the volume until his monitor box explodes and then just shrug, like “you wanted this, fucker”.“ we both giggle recalling the awkward moments and the looks we exchanged at sound checks. “But what’s your strategy? How can you convince him?”

“Well… I don’t try to convince him with explicit arguments… somehow I learned how to make him believe that my suggestion was originally his idea.”

“Clever… but ah, I couldn’t make it… he disagrees with everything I come up with… it’s like an innate reflex at him.”

“Aaand you’ve just caught the point!” I snap with my fingers.

“…which is… that it’s a reflex and he can’t help it?” she frowns.

“No, the other thing you said… he disagrees with everything that comes from you.”

“…aaand…?” her hands circling around each other urge me for getting straight to the point. “Yes, I’m the problem, I know, there’s nothing new in that.”

“NO! And actually… I’d rather keep you in the dark about it. Namely, we’ve got a plan.”

Two plans actually, in case plan A doesn’t work…

“We? You and…?”

“Schmitty, Brett and Scully. None of them is particularly good at keeping secret but this time they are holding on, I’m very proud of them. But as far as I know you, you’d ruin everything if you knew the details.”

“I can’t wait… if it doesn’t involve a pair of dirty, stinky socks getting stuffed into Stone’s mouth, I’m not interested in it, anyway… whatever… sorry for being skeptical, the guy is smart, he smells plans and tricks from miles… and even if he doesn’t, he ruins your self-esteem and drives you into series of mistakes and then” she claps suddenly making me start ”he gets you and makes fun of you.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, he’s not Satan itself…”

“Are you sure?” she narrows her eyes meaningfully. “I had finally gained some confidence by the time I graduated from Juilliard, I mean, I finally believed that being admitted and receiving a degree there meant I could really… achieve something… and now... I feel like I’m at the start again.”

“The situation is certainly out of your comfort zone… but you came from a different world… and his world is strange for you too and…”

“If it was only about this!” she cuts me off. “He’s mocking me permanently, at everything. Everything. Like in elementary school, he makes remarks about my look, my dresses…”

“But you mock him back!”

“… my love… life…” she goes on in a thinner voice. “Or… rather the lack of it. Rude remarks.”

Whoa, that’s new. Obviously, I’ve heard him cracking jokes about her innocent look and Jeff’s admiration for her that he rather disapproved than encouraged, by the way… but he hadn’t humiliated her publicly only for being single… I need a context.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He told me not to put my nose into other people’s business… and that I should to stay away from his private life and insulted me by saying I didn’t even have a love interest…” she recalls in a bored voice like she was reciting a textbook.

“That doesn’t make any sense… what happened before?” I inquire. Something tells me that’s only the second half of the story…

“We had sort of a… disagreement.”

“You don’t say…” I squint at her. “Come on, don’t make me pull everything out of you word by word!”

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asks out of the blue.

“But you don’t even smoke!” I protest.

“Do you want me to go on or not? Just give me a cigarette, please.”

“Oookaaay…” I hand her the pack with my lighter in it.

“So… there were those girls who showed up in the bar… they sat down to the guys’ table…” she begins as she hits the pack with her index finger a few times to set a cigarette free.

“Yes, I saw them, they even danced with them, it was hilarious!” I giggle. Honestly, not only the recall of the scene cracks me up, her fumbling with the lighter is hysterical too.

“One of them… Claudia… she hit on him. I mean, on Stone.” she utters with disgust as she succeeds in lighting the cigarette for about the sixteenth attempt.

“Oh yeah… she seemed pretty pushy.”

“Pushy is not the right term, she was just shameless! I encountered her in the restroom, she started asking questions about him, you know, if he’s single, what kind of girls he liked, stuff like that. And I… ahem… I told… ahem-ahem… I told her… ahem… I told he had a girlfriend ahem-ahem-ahem-ahem…”

Even the first drag drives her on the verge of choking.

“Are you sure you want to smoke it?”

“Yes, I am… ahem… I’m okay… I’m just… ahem. Okay. I think it’s over.” her breathing calms down finally. “So” she takes another drag, a perceptibly more cautious one “long story short, she didn’t even care… and that asshole didn’t even resist.”

“I didn’t see him reciprocating her approach… What should he have resisted?”

“Everything? OUCH!!!”

Due to her outraged hand moves, she managed to drop the ash onto her forearm.

“Okay, you give that to me…” I grab her by the wrist and take the cigarette between my own middle and index finger. “When you’re smoking, you have to ash it regularly to avoid accidents like this. It also burns while you’re talking, just sayin’…”

“Damn… but it’d feel really good to hold a cigarette in my hand while I’m flailing…” she whines still rubbing her forearm.”

“Here. But don’t even try to light it. We can pretend you’re smoking it. Go on.” I hand her a fresh cigarette and begin to puff the one I confiscated.

“And I got just… so angry! I mean, how can one be such a slut?” she gestures on with wider moves.

“Well, a lot of girls just want to have fun and…”

“No, I’m talking about him! He’s got a girlfriend… who must be beautiful and smart and perfect and… “

“Wait, you don’t know anything about her…”

“That’s true but guys like him obviously wouldn’t date any girl…”

I’m dying to know what she means by “guys like him” but maybe this is not the right moment to ask it straightforwardly…

“But he didn’t do anything particular with that girl…” I try to defend him effortlessly.

“Were you there too? Because I was. And trust me, without my intervention, a lot more would have happened…”

“Wait, your intervention?” I perk my head but receive no response. “Judy??? What did you do?”

“I… I might have said her a few things… about Stone…” she confesses with burning cheeks.

“Things like…???” I claim a detailed explanation. Maybe she’s not as innocent this time as I thought…

“I told her things about… what he likes…” she answers reluctantly.

“Like beer or dogs or disco music or what the hell? Tell me the whole fuckin’ story or I leave, I swear!” I flare out at her.

“Things… he likes in… bed…”

Oh. The idea of Judy disclosing Stone’s bedroom secrets sounds dangerous enough to make me choose my words wisely.

“But you… you don’t know what kind of sex he likes… do you?”

“Jesus, of course I don’t, I don’t even want to think about the fact that that freak has sex at all! Jesus… not even in my worst nightmares…” she rolls her eyes staring in front of her.

“But then… how did you know…”

“I… used my… imagination…” she sums up with a brief shrug.

I’ve never heard a more euphemistic synonym for lying. “I used my imagination…” Wicked woman.

“Oh my… and what was your intention with that?”

“To make her reconsider her choice… and to defend Stone from her… you know, I wanted to help him getting out of this situation, guys just never have the strength... I basically did him a favor!”

Of course, Judy helping Stone. I could even imagine it but strictly only after the arrival of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Thinking back about the beginning of our conversation, he couldn’t be particularly grateful for the helping hand…”

“Well, the thing is that the nature of our relationship sort of… influenced my word usage…”

“Judy, I’ve known you since your birth, you don’t need to use vague sentences… just tell what you told her finally!”

“I told her he liked watching animals, I might have mentioned mating animals. For example, watching David Attenborough video tapes before he…”

“I get it, I get it… but that’s not that extreme, thank God you didn’t say he liked animal porn in which people do it with animals…”

“Maybe I mentioned further preferences too… maybe I said something about him liking eating from the girl’s body…”

“That can even be hot, a lot of people are into it, that’s not that bad at all, Judy…” I snicker.

“…unusual food… like bloody steak with Worcestershire sauce… with knife and fork…”

I immediately stop giggling and freeze because I have the sinister feeling she still has something to confess.

“Uhm… I thought you were talking about potentially erotic food like strawberry and whipped cream but in case the girl likes steak too…”

“…and it’s possible I said things about his… performance too…”

“Oh, no.”

“I remember mentioning… he needs, uhm, special actions to become… motivated.” she fidgets with her shoelaces absent-mindedly, wrapping them around her index fingers.

“Okay, whatever, go ahead, I’m prepared.” I cover my eyes with my hands as if they could prevent me from visualizing her bizarre ideas.

“As far as I can recall… I claimed his main turn-on was watching the girl doing her business…”

“You mean doing the business? Like… pleasing… herself?” I ask back since don’t want to believe what I heard.

“I said doing her business… on the toilet…” she repeats with a miserably groan, reddening and avoiding my gaze.

“Judy… you know I’m always ready to defend you from anything or anybody but… it’s no wonder Stone attacked you again.”

“No wonder? He deserved it! After all that bitching…”

“He deserved it? Helping hand, of course… you basically humiliated him in front of a girl!” I scold her trying to keep a serious face, which is not easy at all.

“Do you think I went too far?” she asks innocently with sincere concern. For a second, she turns back into the ten-year-old version of herself who was scared of everything and everyone and it costs me a lot of restraint not to hug her. “Anyway… thinking back… it was so funny, you should have seen the girl’s face.”

I admit, this is the most hilarious shit I’ve heard in the last few years and Stone does deserve some payback from time to time but I don’t want to confirm her behavior. I’m sticking on my plan about getting them to make up or at least to normalize their relationship.

“Judy…” I begin with a deep sigh “Most guys are very sensitive as for their masculinity and sexual abilities, even if they are not typical machos. When they are joking about themselves – that’s okay, a guy with a healthy amount of self-irony is usually considered funny or even attractive. If another guy teases them with sexual topics – they just fire back, with words or their fist. But if it’s a girl who makes fun of their performance – they just freak out, they can’t hit you, they can’t assert they are sex gods either, their only way to defend themselves is attacking back verbally and they try to be at least as rude as you were. Or even ruder.”

“Oh, please, Karrie, I don’t need to be lectured on the psychology of men. He didn’t even know what I said exactly, he wasn’t there of course.”

“But it was you who said he’s smart, he probably figured out the point of it, the chick didn’t seem to be a rocket scientist and she probably didn’t even realize she got in the middle of your death match…”

“Or he was just taking shots in the dark and had luck. Scully was there and Stone was about to torment him so that he would tell him everything word by word… poor dude… So everything will turn out, anyway. By the way, Stone immediately thinking that I’m the potential reason of him being refused by a girl is insulting but also flattering at the same time…”

“Judy, I’ve never denied that it’s pretty difficult to bear Stone’s remarks without saying a word. But getting a taste of his own medicine only gets him fired up all the more, he always wants to have the last word, he’s simply just like that. And if you want to be the quicker one and make his jaw really drop, you have to get your shit together. But to be honest, I’d be happier if you’d keep your quarrels on the level of innocent teasing…”

“It was already everything but innocent in that very moment he heard my name for the first time. It didn’t depend on me, it’s all his fault and he has to face the music at least once his lifetime!” she declares determined.

I better activate plan A as fast as possible before someone gets killed.

***

I can’t wait this terrible day finally come to an end. I just want to take a shower and have some sleep… but I don’t even know how I could get myself to close my eyes, this place is a mess. What if cockroaches come out of their hideouts in the second I turn off the lights? But I’m so tired… what if I asked the driver to open the tour bus for me? Sleeping in the bunk bed sounds definitely safer… but what if he’s already sleeping? I don’t even know his room number and the reception desk was empty too; I don’t feel like looking for the staff in this haunted house. I better start with a shower, it always helps clear my mind. I’m so busy with my own thoughts that I basically bump into Beth in the hallway who’s walking sleepily towards their room; she must be coming from the shower judging from her wet hair.

“Already back here? It wasn’t a long evening…” she mutters in a tired voice.

“I’ve had enough of it. Is everything okay?” I examine her resigned face.

“Yes… uhm… Ed was typing lyrics the whole evening and then he passed out… so I had a shower and I’m about to go to bed too.” she rubs her eyes. “Carefully with the water tap, I almost scalded myself due to that crap. It’s better to wait at least thirty seconds before standing under the water and be careful when you try to change the temperature, there’s not much transition between ice cold and scalding hot, I had to mess around a lot until I could find the optimal level.”

“If I can’t work it out, I’ll just shower with cold water, that wouldn’t be the first time.” I wave.

“Ugh, if you’re a masochist…”

“It’s not the most pleasant thing I can imagine but at least it’s not dangerous either. It can be even refreshing sometimes.”

“Oookay… as you want... And there are no hooks in the shower either, by the way. But no bugs there so far either… Good night!” she pats my shoulder with almost closed eyes and totters to their door.

As I unlock the door of our room, I reach in with one arm to turn on the light and wait for a few seconds before entering; I don’t want to see my little roommates running in the corners. I lift the blanket on my bed only to realize the bedclothes aren’t the cleanest and there’s no towel prepared for the guests. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Effie when she tried to dissuade me from bringing my own one; she claimed hotels always offer towels and travel-size personal care products… So much for Effie’s assumptions. Of course I also brought my toiletry bag decorated with treble keys and musical notes containing small bottles of shower gel, body lotion, a tiny tube of toothpaste and… due to the foresight of Effie, my “emergency package” now includes also gratuitous amount of condoms that stare at me accusingly every time I unzip it. I decide to leave my clothes in the room since I don’t like when there’s no place where I could arrange them properly, I don’t want my sleeping shirt and boxers to get wet either. There’s no living soul here, no one would see me walking a few meters only wearing a towel…

But when I pull it out of my backpack, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t take into account: I brought a smaller towel to spare place for other clothes. As I wrap it around my body, I have to trick for a while until I can arrange it in a way that it covers both my chest and my backside at the same time. Since it’s not only narrow but also short, I can forget the ordinary method of walking, I can basically only waddle pressing both arms tight to my body without exposing anything. I try to exercise this ridiculous way of moving pacing back and forth between the two sides of the room a few times and I end up sitting back on the bed hesitating if I should dress up again. I’m at a public place, after all. But fuck it, I’m tired, I had tequila and this day can’t get any worse, anyway. I peek out to the hallway to make sure I won’t get unexpected company and I set off to cover the longest twenty meters in my life. In duckwalk. But my bravery pays off, I encounter no one so on entering the shower, I finally allow myself to relax.

I put the toiletry bag on the classroom chair in front of the sinks in the forefront and fish out the shower gel bottle. I leave my glasses on the bag and head towards the innermost compartments. I decide to hang my towel on the wall separating the opposite compartments and after turning on the water, immediately jump backwards to safe distance. Beth’s advice on the adjustment proves to be useful and a few minutes later, I’m already enjoying the pleasant, warm water. Of course I brought my favorite, rough sponge too, it always helps refresh my blood circulation.

I catch myself rubbing my body stronger and stronger as I involuntarily recall tonight’s events. What a prick. Of course he deserved everything, I don’t have to feel ashamed about anything. It was him who looked for trouble. His girlfriend would have felt terrible, if she’d seen that disgusting scene so I did the right thing. His huge ego just can’t accept, this time someone was smarter than him. It’s so pathetic when a man needs this cheap kind of confirmation to feel his masculinity ensured. But come on, Stone Gossard’s name referred in connection with manliness and masculinity is the most ridiculous idea in the world, he’s got the body and mind of a thirteen-year-old.

I turn off the water and spill a few drops of shower gel into my palm but as soon I touch my shoulder with it, I hear a noise. A squeaky noise. A squeaky noise of an opening door. Oh no. No, no, no. The smacking sound of slippers on the tiled floor leaves no doubts that I have a visitor and the lazy, shuffling steps are approaching. I pull in the corner and don’t even dare breathe, I’m shivering but not only of cold, shit, what if it’s a stranger? What if it’s a man? What if I make some noise only with my mere existence? I got trapped here naked and… The sound of steps ceases and the water starts running right in the shower cubicle next to mine. Luckily, the wall is high enough to hide me although I can’t check the other person without revealing my presence either. A few seconds have gone by when humming gets mixed into the sound of water… Oh shit, it’s a male voice. The humming slowly turns into singing and my blood runs cold when I realize: I know this nasal bleat.

“If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door…”

[nirahsa]

((Another old piece, one that makes me sad that I think I lost the Halloween one I wrote for Trask...which is sad because I loved that one alot(Trask a Geist tried to mingle on halloween and it backfired a bit because he just can’t stop when he’s actually ahead.). But this is an old one when I revisited the idea of a Death Knight character but wanted to do something different with it. Which overall wasn’t bad since Areelan was the straight-man to Trask’s general insanity.))

Areelan shuffled through the woods of Elwynn, the chirping of the nightlife seemed to quiet down at her passing. Which only caused her to sigh as she remembered the times when she used to lay in a tree simply listening to such lovely sounds. The pale night elf simply shook her head to get rid of the image as she reached the run down house that was her home, taking a key from her pocket and unlocking the door she entered.

The inside was rather neat and orderly with an armor rack that stood full of dust covered protective gear. A wicked bloodstained axe rested nearby glowing with blue runes. She turned her head towards her desk and the shelves above that were laden with alchemical ingredients.

So many concoctions and so many failures, every so often she’d think she’d have found a cure for the boiling wracking pain that afflicted any Death Knight that didn’t partake in violence. Only to be proven wrong at inopportune times, it made her feel as if the affliction was ever changing, she’d find one mix of ingredients that’d stifle it for a time, only for repeated doses to be ineffective.

Still it was one of the few hobbies she had left that helped keep her sane in her unlife. Aree took a seat at the desk after setting her broom aside, mind pondering. She’d been hearing a lot of hearsay recently, about Garrosh and his new power trip. One that he seemed to be taking even further to the point of trying to conquer or destroy the world, she couldn’t figure out which.

“It seems even when Monsters step aside to try and fade into obscurity, more are ready to take their place and act with far less restraint,” She stated softly to herself before straightening at the sound of claws scrabbling against brick. She turned her head just in time to see the upside down head of the Geist Trask appear in the cold fireplace.

“Ho ho ho, I’m great father winter, and I’ve come for your gifts!” The geist stated wheezily with a mad chuckle, eliciting an eye roll from Areelan.

“You’re several months early Trask…and I don’t know why I told you that, now you’re going to just do it again later.”

“Hey, if a fat ugly dwarf can be great father winter why not a guy with a bag on his head? I’d be prettier.” Trask remarked as he dropped down landing on his hands and knees before rising and moving closer to the desk.

“Because people do not worry about a dwarf trying to eat them.” She stated dryly.

“Hey, I prefer eating things with more meat on their bones, like Ogres, once you get past the blubber and slow roast..mm mm.” Trask replied in a mocking manner.

“I doubt even you could stomach trying that Trask.”

“Details…so what is on the agenda, another glorious alchemical failure hmm?” The undead asked while placing a clawed hand on Aree’s shoulder. The night elf walked over to her desk taking a seat as the old floorboards creaked, her hands grabbing pen and parchment.

“No, money is short again, sweeping the streets of stormwind just doesn’t give much in the way of coin.”

Trask clasped both of his clawed hands together tilting his head to the side and back slightly, “Ooooh you’re getting a second job! How productive of you, you little death knight you supporting your little geist child like a responsible death dealing adult!”

Aree rolled her eyes before she started writing, “Being responsible would be giving you up for adoption to the light.”

The geist feigned a hurt look pose, “I thought you loved me!” Before he cackled.

“Sometimes I wonder why I let you hang around, but no, I have to seek out mercenary work again.” She put simply.

“What the heck do you spend the money you do make on anyway? Not like you eat, no way you spent all the money you built up last time on alchemical supplies, I’ve been keeping track of that out of boredom.”

“Keep wondering Trask,” Aree replied as her hand glided smoothly over the parchment.

“Either way, what outfit will take you? Didn’t you sort of burn the bridge with that last group you worked with, you know throwing their leader overboard when he tried to get you to execute prisoners in some gruesome manner or another?” Trask tapped a claw against where his chin would be underneath that line bag covering his head. “I still say you should have thrown him off the front of the ship, naval road kill, speed bump!”

Aree rolled her eyes again, choosing to stay silent and let Trask rant hoping it might shut him up eventually. She focused her attention on the parchment while dabbing her quill pen in ink and starting to write. There was one unit she could try, though she was fairly certain she’d be rejected due to her undead nature.

To Commander Forrester of The Silver Dragoons

Ishnu-alah Commander Forrester, I write to you with regards to potentially serving with your unit. I would have filled out one of your applications. However I thought it best to write to you first due to circumstances concerning me as an applicant. I am a death knight, and I would not blame you for turning down any notion of my joining based on that fact alone. I know how our kind are looked upon, with evidence to back up such viewpoints.

I however find myself in need of coin, street sweeping simply doesn’t provide much. Not that I am leaving that line of work entirely, someone has to keep the streets clear. As to why I am interested in your unit as opposed to other mercenary groups, to put it simply I have principles that I wish to uphold and other merc groups have in the past been more interested in coin than caring what the job was. Your group has a distinguished past, I remember seeing your tabards among others taking the fight to the Lich King in his own citadel. Anyone that will stand against a foe like that cares about more than just money.

If you are willing to consider me as a potential recruit, I will do what I can to prove myself.

Though I do have some, extra baggage that I have to deal with, I’d prefer to iterate on that in person rather than through a letter.

Sincrely,

Areelan

 “Baggage!? Did you seriously just put me down as your baggage!?”

“Do you have a better term for yourself?” She asked wryly.

“Your Stalwart Sidekick against the terrors of dirt in the street!” He stated with a high raspy mocking voice.

“You create more trash to clean up.”

“Assisted job security,” He exclaimed more exuberantly before going into a brief hacking fit.

Areelan let out another sigh before rising, folding up the letter carefully before sticking it in an envelope and sealing it, “I need to go mail this, stay here and fantasize.”

“Right, hold down the fort and scare the crap out of any kids that were dared to knock on your door.”

The night elf eye rolled before departing her home, door creaking shut behind her, only to slam shut when Trask grabbed the door handle.

[yehet-me-up]

The Problem With Wanting

Pairing: D.O./Do Kyungsoo x Reader (female)

Word Count: 16,160

Rating: (M) for explicit sex and swearing

Summary: Quiet, observant, and whip smart, Kyungsoo keeps Barada Pizza running behind the scenes. Whether he’s firing up pizzas in the large stone ovens or slaving away over paperwork at night, his focus is on keeping the business going. He’s kept his nose to the grindstone for years, desperate to prove his family wrong, and lately he’s forgotten how to look up and see anything else. When you barge into his life, a wildfire of a woman in disguise as a waitress, he finds that for the first time in ages he can’t look away. 

Part three of the Exodus Mall series! (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

January 21, 1997

An incessant buzzing wakes you from sleep and you groan, rubbing your hands across your face. You slap the alarm and roll over in bed, gathering the covers back around you.

A few minutes later the sounds starts again and you sigh, reaching over to turn it off. When you see the time your eyes go wide and you throw the covers off.

“Nine thirty?! Oh God,” you exclaim to the empty room and hop out of bed.

You always set two alarms. One for a decent time and one for a ‘you must get out of bed this instant or you’ll be late’ time. And after many years you’ve finally accepted that you’re the kind of person who will only ever get up with the second.

Your bare feet hit the wood floor and you shiver in the cold. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shuffle off to the bathroom to take a hurried shower.

Seattle in January is very different from Savannah in January, that’s for fucking sure, you think dejectedly. 

But your friend was ready to go back to her home state of Washington after six years away and you were desperate to break away from your Southern roots. She’d invited you along after she accepted her new job a few weeks ago and you’d happily agreed to move with her.

She started work at the beginning of January, at Simpson & Sons Jewelers, and you’d been living off savings until you could find work. She’d seen a flyer in the mall advertising for a waitress at the pizza place last week and you’d called right away. The man who answered had a big, happy voice. Said his name was Chanyeol and that you could come in that day to interview if you were able.

You’d dressed in a hurry and gone down to meet him. The interview went great; Chanyeol was clearly well loved by his staff and customers. With your positive attitude and experience as a server in Savannah during college, he’d offered you a job on the spot. 

The co-owner, Kyungsoo, was at a business meeting, but Chanyeol said he was sure he’d like you too. He went over all the necessary details and you agreed on a start date.

When you told your roommate about the job and the owners she’d just about had a heart attack. It turns out that she, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo had all gone to high school together in the area, and that Chanyeol was her ex who’d broken her heart.

You tried to tell her that you’d find something else, not wanting to put her in a bad spot, but she’d waved you off. She insisted she’d be fine and you’d gone out for drinks that night to celebrate your new employment.

The two of you had met at Savannah College of Art and Design freshman year. She was an incredibly talented art student specializing in metalwork and jewelry design, while you were a Southern former debutante who’d gotten in on your family’s connections. Not that you were happy about any of those facts.

Your mother always joked that with your enthusiastic personality and pretty face you had everything you needed in the world. She’d only wanted you to go to college to get your ‘MRS degree’ - an outdated Southern joke implying that ladies such as yourself, well off and from a good family, were only interested in going to college to find a husband that would make them a Mrs.

It frustrated you to no end, how instead of asking you about your hobbies, your interests, your thoughts, all she asked about was if you’d met any cute guys in class that week. She just about lost it when she found out that you’d taken a waitressing job on the weekends at a café on campus. It was a constant source of anxiety for her, that you’d rather spend your nights studying for your degree in advertising, or working, than going out on dates.

“Honey, with your smile you could charm a pile of rocks. Why would you waste that on something so dull?” she’d ask, agitated.

The two of you never saw eye to eye, and it had taken you days to work up the courage to tell her you were moving. In typical fashion she had wept dramatically, but eventually your father had come to your defense. He was always the sane one in comparison.

He reminded her that you’re an adult, and that it’s normal for a twenty-four year old to stretch her wings and try new things. And now here you are, a month later, in a freezing apartment in Seattle, going off into uncharted territory.

You’d spent the year and a half in-between college and now as an apprentice at an ad agency. You loved the creativity and the people, but the work itself had left you uninspired. Much that you hated to admit that your mother was right about something, you were definitely someone who craved human contact.

The late nights spent in meetings or coming up with ideas in your office just didn’t fulfill you like you thought it would. You honestly enjoyed working at the café during college more, getting the opportunity to make someone’s day with a positive experience.

You cut off the water after a frustratingly short time and rush to towel off your hair and your body. Since you’re the kind of person who favors sleeping in to getting up early, you’ve honed your morning routine to get ready in as short a time as possible. You could practically do it in your sleep at this point.

Bra, panties, jeans, and socks on. Into the bathroom to put on deodorant, moisturizer, a swipe of mascara. Back into the bedroom to put on your new deep blue Barada Pizza t-shirt, your Converse hi-tops. Into the kitchen to grab an apple and a granola bar. 

Back into the bathroom to run a quick blow dry through your hair with one hand while you brush your teeth with the other. Fluffing your hair out behind you, you dash back into the bedroom. Earrings in, coat on, purse on your shoulder, and you’re out the door. All in under 20 minutes.

Thankfully your apartment is close to the mall. You hum along to the radio while you drive, in between munching on the granola bar and apple. Pulling up to the mall you find a spot out front and head inside.

It’s just before ten in the morning and most of the stores open. A department store at one end, a book store, music store. You take in each one as you walk by on your way to the food court. You can see your roommate inside the jewelry store, helping a customer, and you wave when you catch her eye.

Barada Pizza is undoubtedly the heart of the space, dominating most of one side. It’s wide, open counter faces the center of the mall. The large stone oven is visible just steps behind. To one side is the back room, presumably filled with industrial storage and fridges. Several booths are off to the other side; comfortable seating areas with deep blue leather seats and dark wood tables.

Next to Barada is a vegan restaurant and a small burger restaurant. On the opposite side is a bustling Starbucks, a Chinese restaurant, and a rustic-looking pub that advertises ‘pub grub and billiards.’

When you approach the pizza place you can see one man working in the back, kneading dough along the wide stone counter in front of the ovens. Kyungsoo, that’s his name, you think. You walk into the back room, your steps echoing in the wide space over the faint music playing in the mall. He doesn’t turn at your approach, so you decide to reach out first.

“Hi there,” you say happily and he jolts in surprise. He turns, giving you an appraising look. He blinks in confusion for a moment before his expression settles into a frown.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says, disgruntled.

You raise your eyebrows at his tone. But you’re hardly the type to be put off by someone being unfriendly, so you push onward.

“Yes, it’s me. Hi,” you say with a grin and tell him your name. “Today’s my first day. Where would you like me?” you ask.

“Follow me,” he says bluntly, leading you to the back room. He shows you a row of lockers along the back wall, next to several industrial size fridges and rows of metal storage shelves. “You can put your stuff in any one of the open lockers.”

You slough off your coat and purse and hang them up in the first open locker you see. Several of the lockers are decorated with stickers and photos. You think to yourself that you can’t wait to decorate yours, but with a look at Kyungsoo you decide not to voice this thought out loud.

“Let’s get started,” he says and leads you to a narrow office in the back. The space is incredibly well organized, piles of paper in folders in a storage rack on the desk. Spindles of paperwork neatly aligned.

You spend the first hour filling out the necessary paperwork and agreements with Kyungsoo. He asks nothing personal, says no happy welcome, asks you no questions about yourself. You find yourself desperately hoping that Chanyeol will come in soon. Blessedly, he arrives a few minutes later.

“Welcome!” he says, leaning his head into the office as he takes off his coat. “I hope my boy Kyungsoo has been welcoming you with his trademark hospitality,” he says.

He comes back from putting his coat away and looks between you two, taking in your hesitant expression and Kyungsoo’s stern face. He grins and starts laughing.

“Don’t worry about him, he warms up, I promise,” he says to you and pats Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Kyungsoo turns to glare at him and he removes his hand quickly.

“Are you guys all set in here? I was going to give her a rundown of the opening duties and the register.”

“We’re all done here,” Kyungsoo says. He slides your signed paperwork into a folder and slips it into the rack on his desk. Without another word he heads back out into the store to get back to preparing the dough.

The rest of your first shift goes considerably better. Chanyeol walks you through the opening duties. It’s all things you’re familiar with. Making sure the tables are clean, the menus are organized, the condiments are all set out.

Barada has both dine in and take out options. Most days during the week Chanyeol manages the take out counter, serving customers by-the-slice and handling the take out orders over the phone and in person. Your job is to handle the dine in customers and fill in on the take out counter as needed; easy enough.

The menu is fairly standard for a pizza place. Three sizes, a wide assortment of toppings. Salads, breadsticks, sodas. Chanyeol tells you that what sets the place apart is the speed and the quality. With a laugh he explains that Kyungsoo’s a stickler for high standards and you believe him.

By the end of your first shift you’re comfortable taking orders, ringing people up at the register, and delivering pizzas to the table. You spend the day alternating between shadowing Chanyeol and shadowing one of the experienced waitresses, Delia.

When you leave at six o’clock Kyungsoo is in the back office, working diligently on paperwork. You contemplate sticking your head in to say goodbye, but when you remember his stern expression earlier you decide to skip it, at least for now.

January 22, 1997

Kyungsoo watches the clock, dreading your approach. He could have killed Chanyeol for hiring someone without his approval, but he’d foolishly given him equal ability to hire and fire employees all those years ago. 

It had never been an issue before, but when he’d seen you, he knew he was screwed. Chanyeol had been bothering him for years to let loose, to have fun, to date ‘for God’s sake.’

He hadn’t dated anyone since college, hadn’t slept with anyone in months, but if he could conjure up his ideal type – it would be you. He’d nearly groaned in frustration when he turned to see you standing there, cheerful and sweet, determined to be positive despite his cold greeting. 

The moment Chanyeol had appeared he happily passed you off, desperate to get back to his routine, his work.

His friends, his ex, even Chanyeol had never understood why he was so focused on his studies. It was all his parents talked about; get good grades, study hard, go to a good college. The undercurrent was always clear – make us proud. They’d never hidden their desire for him to become a lawyer, to become rich and successful.

After a year of college, pre-law, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His one act of defiance had broken his parents hearts. He’d gone to his uncle, a man who’d made money in real estate but who was definitely the black sheep of the family in comparison to Kyungsoo’s serious father. He’d broken down, admitting to his uncle how unhappy he was, how we couldn’t stand it any more, and asked for advice.

“You’re smart, organized, and logical, Kyungsoo. Why don’t you start a business?” his uncle had said, as if it was that easy. “What do you like to do?”

“What do I like to do?” Kyungsoo had laughed. 

He’d racked his brain, trying to think of anything he spent his time on besides school and the internships his parents had forced him into. He played video games with Chanyeol, he liked reading, but he couldn’t make a career out of either of those. Then it hit him.

“I like to cook,” he said tentatively. “And Chanyeol and my friends say I’m pretty good at it.”

His uncle had clapped him on the shoulder and that was it. Chanyeol was an easy recruit. He was more than thrilled to give up on his half-hearted efforts at community college to start a pizza restaurant with his best friend.

They’d both gotten jobs working at a local delivery company to save up money. Over the course of a year, under the guidance of his uncle they’d found a space, hired employees, and opened Barada Pizza in early 1995.

It’s been just over two years, Kyungsoo realizes with a shock. Two years since he’d started this business and three years since he’d created a rift in the family with his decision to drop out of college. It had taken months for his parents to start speaking to him and his uncle again. But the rift was steadily mending, in no small part to the success of Barada.

Thanks to Kyungsoo’s dedicated efforts, Chanyeol’s personality, and his uncle’s support, Kyungsoo had a thriving business. He’d paid off his uncle’s initial investment just a few months after opening, but he didn’t see it as an opportunity to slack off. This business was his livelihood, and he held it closer than he cared to admit sometimes; desperate for things to work out.

“Who wants to be with someone as serious and boring as you, Kyungsoo?” his ex had said, with the kind of brutal honesty that only comes when someone was drunk.

He blinks rapidly, remembering all over how hurt he’d been when she ended things. She wanted to go to parties, to have cute study dates at cafes, to have a ‘normal’ boyfriend. But first with his studies, and then with the business, words like ‘fun’ and ‘normal’ didn’t have room in his life.

“Good morning!” you call, walking into the back room. 

The high, pleasant voice startles him yet again and he turns to regard you with a blank look. You chuckle as you walk past him into the back, seemingly fully aware of your effect on him.

He sighs heavily to himself. He didn’t want to be so gruff and unwelcoming to you yesterday. But seeing you there only reminded of him of things he can’t have. Reminded him that happy, pretty girls have zero interest in dull, serious guys like him.

He slaps the ball of dough on the counter with probably more force than necessary. With another sigh, he braces himself for another day of working with you.

February 16, 1997

You yawn, holding a coffee in each hand, taking a sip of one in the hopes that the caffeine will help you adjust to your new early schedule. Now that you’re done training you’re on the opening shift five days a week.

The mall is so peaceful and quiet at this hour. The only store open this early is the Starbucks. For someone so energetic and excited all the time, you really love silence, so you can’t find it in you to be resentful of the early hour. 

Eventually you drag yourself over to the pizza parlor and of course, Kyungsoo’s already in the back, making the dough for the day.

“Morning!” you call out brightly and he visibly jolts with shock. 

You smother a laugh and come up beside him. He gives you a stern glare like always and goes back to his kneading. You’ve come to expect his silence by now. You set one of the cups down on the counter beside him and he stares at it like it’s an alien he should be afraid of.

“What’s that?” he asks, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

“It’s… coffee? Plain black. I heard you order ahead of me last week so I figured that’s what you like,” you reply, mouth twisting in amusement. “I promise I didn’t poison it,” you reassure him, patting him on the arm briefly before heading to the back room.

When you come back from putting away your stuff he’s kneading another roll of dough, the coffee untouched beside him. You shake your head in silent laughter and get started on the opening duties. After a month of this routine every time you work together, your curiosity finally gets the best of you.

“Is it me?” you ask bluntly in a cheerful voice, grabbing the tray of parmesan and red pepper flake shakers. 

He looks over at you in confusion. You cock a hip out and rest the tray on it, your other hand coming to your waist, staring him down. “You never talk to me, and every time I come to work it’s like… like I’m a giant thorn in your side. Is there something wrong with me–”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says emphatically, cutting you off.

His gaze sweeps up and down your body before locking onto yours, a pleading look in his eyes. He winces and whips back around to start working on the dough again.

“You’re just… distracting,” he says with a breathy laugh to himself.

He doesn’t say it like you’re an annoying child, distracting it’s parents from their work. He doesn’t say it like something out of place, a crooked picture frame or a misspelled word, that distracts the eye. 

He says it as if you’re the kind of distraction he wishes he could ignore, but can’t. As if he’s distracted by you, in that way.

You take a deep breath – when had your heart started racing? - and regard his back with curiosity. “Oh,” you say aloud in surprise. 

God knows you’d like to push, to use the arsenal of words at your disposal to prod and pry. But for once you keep quiet, going about your opening duties as he keeps up his morning preparations. 

The weight of his statement hangs in the air between you, a living thing that worms it’s way into your mind. While you’re wiping down the menus you see him sneak a sip of the coffee and smile to yourself.

As you work around each other you find that you can’t keep your eyes off him. It’s like he prefers to be a shadow, to blend seamlessly into the background. To let Chanyeol be the voice and the face of Barada, while he works tirelessly in the background, as its heart. But after his admission, he’s all you can see.

You take in the sweep of his hair, imagining what it might feel like between your fingers. The lines of his face, the lush curves of his lips. With a blush you wonder if they feel as soft as they look. As you walk past him to grab another sleeve of cups you notice the cut of his body, his strong forearms revealed by his rolled up sleeves.

How did you not notice him before - the full picture of him – you wonder to yourself. A fierce desire rises up in you, to know more; to find out why someone like him would seek to remain just slightly out of focus from the world.

Abruptly you hear Chanyeol enter the store, as he always does, with a rush of energy. “Good morning Sunshine, morning Soo!” he calls out happily on his way to the back room.

You call out a greeting back to him, ducking your head as you finish cleaning off menus, as if your thoughts about Kyungsoo might be broadcast across your face. For all of his lightheartedness you know that Chanyeol’s much more perceptive than people would think.

The next morning you come in to find a large Starbucks drink waiting for you in your locker. You cautiously take a sip. The caramel macchiato is still warm, and just how you like it. You grin to yourself, glancing back to where Kyungsoo’s still working at the dough.

February 19, 1997

Two people you’ve gotten to know in the last few weeks, Baekhyun and Hitchcock from the movie theater, have declared that tonight is a night out on the town. The group is going to Shari’s, a local club that plays great music, and they invited you along.

The phone rings a few minutes before you’re going to be off. Luis answers it and a minute later he calls out to you where you’re restocking the toppings during a lull in customers.

“Hey Sunshine, phone’s for you. It’s Delia,” he says and tosses it to you as you walk over.

You put the phone up to your ear. “Hey, Delia. What’s up?” you ask.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry to ask you this. But my babysitter cancelled tonight and there’s no one else to watch Caleb for me. Is there any chance you’d be willing to cover my closing shift tonight? I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” she says.

You give a brief thought to the fact that you’ll miss out on the group outing tonight. But she’s a great co-worker and there will be other nights out, and you’re always ready to help out others.

“Of course, totally no problem,” you reply. “I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re a life-saver, thank you so much!” she says.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you say and hand the phone back to Luis.

You head back to the office to talk to Kyungsoo. He’s working through a large pile of papers when you knock.

“Hey, Delia had trouble finding a babysitter tonight, so I’m covering her closing shift. Is that okay?” you ask.

He furrows his brow at you. “But isn’t tonight the big night out at Shari’s? Wouldn’t you rather be there?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I’m sure it would be fun. But she needs me, I’d never let a friend down. Besides, the company here isn’t too bad,” you say with a smile. 

Kyungsoo closes every Saturday night and he blinks for a moment before realizing that you mean him.

He looks at you thoughtfully before giving you a small smile. “All right then.”

“All right then,” you repeat and head back out onto the floor.

March 7, 1997

He’s watching you again, unintentionally. In between sliding pizzas around in the large stone oven, his attention seems to find you like a homing beacon. Your hair caught in the warm afternoon light, your head tipped back in joyful laughter at something a customer said.

He tries to stop his mind from wandering, his eyes from roaming your body, but by now he’s realized it’s pointless. The energy around you is palpable, your joy and warmth contagious. He doesn’t know what to do with you, especially in light of his unexpected confession all those weeks ago.

He feels your attention on him sometimes and wishes not for the first time that he was more like Chanyeol. That he was easygoing, friendly, and able to talk freely with others. But you seem to find his crankiness charming, always smiling at him whenever he does ask you about your day or strike up a conversation when you run into each other in the back room on break. 

He has to stop himself from moving your schedule around so it lines up more closely with his.

You open together Fridays, Mondays, and Tuesdays. You open and he closes on Saturdays and Sundays. Every week he tells himself that those three days together are enough. Every week he knows that he’s lying to himself.

March 27, 1997

By this point even Chanyeol has noticed Kyungsoo’s distraction around you. He smiles every time he looks over and sees his friend paused in the middle of adding toppings, his gaze stuck on you.

He doesn’t say anything of course, he’d never tease his friend about the crush he obviously has. He’s happy that Kyungsoo is finally showing interest in someone after all these years of working his ass off.

Just last week you’d had an angry customer yelling at you and Kyungsoo had stepped in. Chanyeol had been completely shocked. In all the years he’d known Kyungsoo he’d never seen him move so quickly.

The minute the man’s voice got raised, yelling about how you were an idiot and how he’d specifically asked for no olives, Kyungsoo was over to your side. Stepping in front of you to talk down the customer, handling the situation.

He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself, the way Kyungsoo pulled you aside after the customer left. His hand gently reaching out for your shoulder, his soothing words asking if you were all right. Chanyeol would have bet a million dollars that Kyungsoo missed the adoring expression on your face as you watched him for the rest of the day.

May 19, 1997

It’s twelve thirty-four. It’s twelve thirty-four in the afternoon, he keeps repeating to himself. 

Desperately staring at the clock in the back room so his attention won’t be drawn back to you and the man at the nearby table. He watches the two black hands move around the clock face, trying to simultaneously block out the words he’s hearing and listen as closely as possible.

“Yes, oh my gosh. You have got to try the key lime pie there. It’s amazing,” you’re gushing to the man at the table.

He’s tall, even seated. Shaggy blonde hair, red plaid shirt on, skateboard propped up against the table leg. The textbook photo of a Seattleite. When Kyungsoo gives up and glances back, the man has his arm around the back of the booth; his eyes take in your body as you ramble happily about the insanely popular diner down the street.

He feels his blood burn, a tightness coming to his chest as this man so brazenly admires you. He’s going to ask you out, Kyungsoo can feel it. The thought makes him want to scream, but he’s helpless, watching from the back. What claim does he have on you? If you were uncomfortable he could easily step in as a manager. But against this benign flirtation he has no jurisdiction.

It’s like a car crash, he can’t look away. The voracity with which he wants to know your answer to the forthcoming question is staggering.

The pizza the man ordered is already on the table in front of him. You finish talking and turn away with a smile, saying, “Enjoy your pizza, let me know if I can get you anything else.”

“Wait,” the man says and you turn back. “This diner sounds fantastic, I can’t believe I haven’t eaten there before. Why don’t you come with me? Friday night maybe?” he asks with a smug grin, as if there’s no chance you’d turn down the offer.

You falter, brushing your hair behind your ears. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you. But I close Fridays actually. Sorry,” you say with a relieved tone that catches Kyungsoo off guard.

You don’t close Fridays - you open with him every Friday morning like clockwork. He grins to himself, a triumphant feeling rising in his chest.

The man presses on. “That’s too bad. What about another night? I’d love to get your number and we can set something up,” he continues hopefully.

At the second attempt you become more resolved. “Thank you for offering, but it’s still a no. Enjoy your pizza though,” you finish with a smile and walk away back to the kitchen. 

Kyungsoo picks up a pizza on the long board and turns to put it in the oven, knowing that the wide smile on his face will give him away.

June 2, 1997

The other cooks talk with each other as they make pizzas. Luis, Christian, Kim – everyone else jokes with Chanyeol when he brings over the order slips, talks with you and the other waitresses. Everyone but Kyungsoo. When he works, his focus is solely on the task at hand.

You wonder what it’s like to pursue one goal with such ferocity. To hold a singular thought in your consciousness like he can. You can’t imagine it. Your mind is always focusing on a million things at once. Chatting with customers. Trying to remember to call your parents on your break. Wondering what you might get up to that weekend with your group of friends Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Hitchcock at the center of it.

In the months since you’ve been working at Exodus you’ve found a great group of people. And of course you hang out with your roommate, who is still staunchly avoiding Chanyeol, making going out difficult.

But Kyungsoo, in your estimation, only focuses on work. He’s joined you all a few times, at the occasional party or movie night. But other than that his life seems to be all about Barada. Not that it bothers you, you admire him for it actually. If the rest of your life is a flurry of activity and words and energy, being around him is a pocket of calm.

You pick up a pizza he hands you and his dark, perpetually intense gaze meets yours. A rush of desire skirts down your spine, as it always does when you find yourself the subject of his focus, even for a second.

Over the past few weeks you’ve increasingly found yourself wondering about what it might be like to be the only thing he’s concentrating on, outside of work. If that ferocity of focus would extend to the bedroom.

You blink rapidly, taking the pizza from his waiting hands, and quickly rush off to deliver it to the table. You grin to yourself, shaking your head. Imagine that, Kyungsoo liking you back, you think wryly.

June 15, 1997

Another Friday night, another informal party at Baekhyun’s. A loose circle of people are scattered around on the couch, chairs, and floor, all talking and laughing. Baekhyun lies with his head in Hitchcock’s lap as they discuss something energetically. 

You’re sitting with your shoeless feet tucked up underneath you, leaning against the girl from Starlight Clothing as you laugh about her stern co-worker’s latest sarcastic comments. Kyungsoo listens to Chanyeol, exasperated as usual at his friend.

“Hey everyone!” Baekhyun says in his typical exuberant manner, sitting up suddenly. “Who wants to play a game?” he says and wags his eyebrows.

“Oh god, we are not doing spin the bottle again dude,” Chanyeol groans. “Last time I had to kiss Jongin. And while I am comfortable enough in my sexuality to admit he is a very handsome man, I have no wish to have a repeat of that experience.” Several people around him laugh.

“No, no. Even better. Never Have I Ever,” Baekhyun says with a wide grin. A few people groan.

“I haven’t played that since college. I am so in,” you say excitedly.

Baekhyun claps his hands together. “Finally, some support! Thank you,” he nods in your direction.

Everyone mumbles agreement and a few people grab some drinks from the kitchen for reinforcement before starting the game. Finally set, everyone circles up again in the living room.

“So how many are we starting with?” you ask, nestling your drink between your legs and holding up both hands.

“Is anyone going to explain this game?” Kyungsoo asks with a raised brow, looking skeptical.

“I’m glad you asked, my good man,” Baekhyun says energetically, clapping Kyungsoo on the back. “Everyone, let’s start off easy and say five fingers. Loser has to chug a mystery drink of my making,” he starts and everyone groans in disgust.

“It won’t be that bad, I promise. Now, everyone puts up five fingers. We go around the circle and say something we’ve never done,” he says and holds up his right hand officially.

“There are two approaches. The first one is to try and target someone specifically. For example,” he says and stares evilly at Chanyeol. “Never have I ever gotten drunk and tried to make out with Mrs. Baker at senior prom.”

Chanyeol throws a pillow at Baekhyun. “You’re lucky this is just a practice round or I’d share some of your terrible secrets.”

Baekhyun laughs hysterically and then collects himself. “Or you can take the second approach. Some general and broad thing that you just haven’t done that will get a lot of people. Like… never have I ever been to the top of the Space Needle,” he says with a gloating smile. Several people groan and put down a finger.

“That was just a practice round! Okay, let’s start for real. Kyungsoo my friend, the goal of the game is to not be the first person with zero fingers left standing. How does that sound?” he asks and Kyungsoo nods.

Minseok starts off the game and gets his girlfriend out with a targeted attack about never reading a certain book and she retaliates with an obscure band she’s never listened to. Yixing tags out most of the circle by saying he’d never learned to ride a bike. Chanyeol gets retaliation on Baekhyun by saying he’s never thrown up on a crush before.

Hitchcock smirks and looks around the circle. “Let’s expose some people here. Never have I ever taken a date to Somerset point.” Baekhyun and Chanyeol groan and put down a finger. 

She laughs and points at Baekhyun. “Ha! I knew it. I knew you were lying about never going there with Jenny Albertson!” Baekhyun hangs his head in mock shame.

The game moves onto Kyungsoo. Most of the people around the circle are down to three fingers, but he’s still going strong with five. He thinks hard for a moment. “All right. Never have I ever… gone to a high school dance,” he says with a wry smile.

Everyone in the circle whines and drops a finger. In the end Chanyeol is out first after you admit that you haven’t been to the famous Dick’s Burgers yet. Baekhyun claps in delight and rushes into the kitchen to come up with a nasty drink.

A second round is played and Minseok loses, but at his deadly glare Baekhyun makes something slightly less disgusting. Again, Kyungsoo finishes with all five fingers up, though you think that you’re probably the only one that notices.

It’s decided that a third and final round will be held. It’s even raunchier than the other two, given that it’s the point in the night where everyone is tipsy at best, aside from Kyungsoo who’s just drinking sodas.

“All right people, gather round. Who’s ready to admit some uncomfortable shit to their friends?” Chanyeol calls out good-naturedly, settling once again into his spot in Baekhyun’s La-z-boy chair.

You slump back into the sofa, leaning your head on Hitchcock’s shoulder next to you. The girl from Starlight on your other side goes first. She rubs her hands together and thinks hard, covering her face with her outstretched fingers.

“I’ve got it! This is getting all of you. Never have I ever made out in a movie theater,” she says with a grin, pointing at both Hitchcock and Baekhyun. 

They groan and immediately put a finger down, along with you and almost everyone else in the circle. The lone hold out is Kyungsoo. She tilts her head at him and snaps her fingers. “Dang, I really thought I’d get everyone with that one.”

The game continues and it’s Yixing who loses this time. Baekhyun cuts him some slack and gives him a shot of bottom shelf Vodka. As the night goes on everyone switches to water and snacks on chips and dip in an effort to absorb the alcohol.

You stand in the kitchen, happily munching and listening to Hitchcock tell the story of how Baekhyun had been caught making out at the theater in the mall back in high school by their boss. Your attention is drawn to Kyungsoo where he sits on the couch with Chanyeol, smiling slightly as his friend tells a story in his loud and booming voice.

You wonder about him, as you always do, but in a different way tonight. He hadn’t put down a single finger all night. You take a deep swig of water from your cup and resolve to ask him about it tomorrow.

June 16, 1997

Kyungsoo blinks quickly, trying to wake up his tired mind after a late night out. Chanyeol had pleaded a hangover and begged Kyungsoo to open for him and he reluctantly agreed.

He loves your cheerful voice in the mornings normally, though he’d never admit it to you. But this morning you come in looking determined instead. You set your obscenely large coffee on the counter and fix him with a stare.

“I’ve got a question for you,” you start.

He sighs and turns from the dough he’s kneading to look at you, dressed in a riot of colors. Pink Converse sneakers, baby blue jeans, purple Barada Pizza shirt, bright yellow headband. Your appearance is in direct contrast to the serious expression you’re giving him and he stifles a laugh.

“Yes?” he asks, folding his arms to mirror yours and leaning against the counter.

“Have you ever been laser bowling?” you ask.

“Huh?” he asks, confused. Of all the things you could have asked, this isn’t what he was expecting.

“I’ll take that as a no. Okay, have you ever been to Denny’s at three in the morning?” you ask, raising a brow.

He gives you a sarcastic look and you throw up your hands.

“Fine, another no. You didn’t put a single finger down last night. What did you spend all your time doing while you were growing up?” you ask. He abruptly turns back to his kneading, his expression shuttering.

“I’m not judging, believe me,” you continue, placing a hand on his arm to get him to look back at you. “I’m just genuinely curious. What did you get up to while other kids were out being idiots?”

He sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “Look. It’s not something I want to talk about. Let’s just say that my family was pretty strict growing up and I didn’t have a lot of time to go out and have fun. And I started this business when I was twenty-one. Since then, it’s been all I have time for.”

You think for a moment, fitting this information with your picture of him. An idea comes to you, and like always, you just blurt it out rather than giving it careful thought.

“Okay, that’s fair. So how about this? Let’s make a list of all the things you’ve never done and we’re going on a big summer quest. You have a whole lot of new things to try and I love… having fun. It’ll be the perfect combination,” you say and clap your hands together excitedly.

He groans. The thought of spending all that time with you would be both a blessing and a curse. Once he might have been able to resist, but these days you’re his Kryptonite. 

With a shrug he says, “All right, why not?”

You grin at him and it’s easy to see why Chanyeol has nicknamed you Sunshine. He thinks to himself that all the silly things in the world would be worth it if they make you look at him like that. You reach into your purse and grab out your order pad and pencil and start writing.

“Okay, so we know you haven’t been bowling or to Denny’s in the dead of night. Have you ever been skinny dipping?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He gives you an ‘are you serious’ face and you giggle to yourself. “Added to the list.”

“What else did we do all the time in high school? Oooh have you ever parked in the back of a truck and watched the stars? We know you’ve never made out in a movie theater,” you say.

After a beat you both realize the implication behind that statement, what it would mean if you added it to the list of things you wanted to show him this summer. You blush and look down.

His eyes dart down to your lips, fantasizing for a moment about what they might feel like against his. Did he ever regret not going laser bowling or skinny dipping? No, he never has. Not until he met you. Now here you are, with your list and a beautiful pink tint to your cheeks and with a sigh he realizes that he’ll be unable to stop imagining kissing you in the dark back row of a theater for quite a while.

“We can add more later,” you say softly. You swallow and look up to meet his eyes, your expression turning serious again. “Pick something. We’re doing one of these tonight. It’s Saturday, an excellent night to start, and I know that you switched with Chanyeol so he could sleep off his hangover. So you’re free. How about laser bowling?”

He sighs. “Fine. There’s a bowling alley a couple of block from here, I’m sure they do it. What time?”

“Well, laser bowling is usually a later in the evening. Why don’t you give me the address and we can meet there at like, eight?” you ask.

“Deal,” he says and you smile, putting your apron on and slipping the notepad back in. Throughout the rest of the day he almost catches himself singing along to the music in the mall.

Once your shift is over you grab your stuff and head out towards the mall. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are looking over a report together in the back room. You smirk at Kyungsoo tonight as you walk past.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you say with a smile.

Chanyeol dramatically drops his jaw and raises his eyebrows. He reaches out a hand to your shoulder to stop you walking.

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s this?” he says and puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “My best friend in the whole entire world is hanging out with someone without me?”

You laugh and Kyungsoo pats Chanyeol’s shoulder reassuringly. “Sorry friend, you’re stuck on the closing shift. Guess you’ll have to miss a thrilling night of bowling,” he says.

Chanyeol pouts. “Aw, man. I love bowling. Laser bowling especially. We used to go to the old ACME bowl down the street all the time in high school.”

You raise an eyebrow at Kyungsoo. “What a coincidence, that’s exactly where we’re going,” you say. “See you later Kyungsoo.”

As you exit the store you miss the meaningful look Chanyeol gives Kyungsoo before he allows himself to be drawn back into the ordering reports.

The bowling alley down the block is exactly like the one you used to go to in high school back in Georgia. Cheesy early eighties designs on the wall, the paint peeling on the tables, a rusty popcorn machine from the dawn of time in the snack bar.

You feel a wave of happy nostalgia wash over you as you and Kyungsoo grab your shoes and find your lane. While you punch your names into the computer Kyungsoo grabs a big basket of fries and two sodas from the concessions stand.

He looks up at the scoreboard and laughs. You’ve entered in GRINCH and SUNSHN for your names. He gives you a sarcastic look and you grin back at him.

“Alll right ladies and gentleman, are you READY?!” a male voice booms from the loudspeaker. “It’s LASER BOWL TIME!” he says and plays some silly sound effects.

The lights dim down overhead and black lights come to life along the walls, interspersed with colorful neon lights that move back and forth. You look down at your shirt and see that it’s glowing in the black light.

Kyungsoo smiles, taking in the ridiculous and dramatic setting. You laugh and point to his teeth, which are glowing as well. He looks over at your own teeth and cracks up.

“Why don’t you go first?” you offer, motioning toward the lane.

He nods and walks over to carefully choose a ball. He walks up to the lane and rolls his neck, shaking his arms out. He swings his arm back as he walks forward and releases it with precision.

You stand there with your drink paused halfway to your lips as the ball perfectly spins and gets an instant strike. He turns back to you with a satisfied smile, the closest he’s come to being cocky in the time you’ve known him.

You set down your drink with a thump and hold both hands out toward the lane. “What was that?” you ask with a laugh. “You said you’d never been bowling!”

His handsome face breaks into a grin as he joins you at the table, popping a french fry into his mouth. “No, you asked me if I’d ever been laser bowling. Which I haven’t. But like the fascinating and lively guy I am, I was in a bowling league all through middle school.”

You scoff and narrow your eyes at him. “Fine, you’re saved on a technicality. I just hope you’re ready for my amazing bowling skills,” you say and saunter over to choose a ball. Of course you choose the brightest one, a neon yellow ball that weighs a bit too much for you.

You’ve been bowling many times before, but in high school and college the objective was always to bowl as seductively as possible. Playing a whole different game - seeing if you could get the guys in the group to ‘help’ you learn to bowl, rather than actually caring about scoring. But something about Kyungsoo makes you want to try.

Holding the ball as best you can you step forward, trying to mimic Kyungsoo’s style. The ball angles wildly and rolls into the gutter. You groan and turn around to see Kyungsoo is doubled over, holding his arm against the counter as he cracks up silently. With an amused smile you join him at the table. He waves a hand at you, trying to speak, but he can’t with how hard he’s laughing.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you say with a grin.

He coughs and gathers himself, standing back up. His mouth keeps twitching as he tries to stop smiling. “No, no it was great. You’re definitely a pro,” he says.

“Well I’m glad I amuse you. You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you laugh that hard. It’s good to know you actually can,” you say.

“Ah, well I don’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just that you have a very uhh, unique style of throwing,” he says with a smirk.

“Fine, then. Watch out, this time I’m going to get a spare,” you say with a huff, walking over to the return to grab your ball. 

Your second shot goes into the gutter even faster and you can feel him laughing before you even turn around. With a sigh you walk over to grab some fries.

“Okay, ace. It’s your turn,” you say and shoo him over.

He gives you a confident raise of his brows before grabbing his ball. Another shot, another strike. You groan and drown your sorrows in a big handful of fries. The next two shots you take as hardly better than the first round, only getting a pin each time. Kyungsoo of course scores a spare on his next turn.

You grab your ball and turn to him. “Show me,” you ask seriously.

He almost chokes on his drink of soda, eyes going wide with surprise. “What do you mean ‘show you’?” he asks when he can speak again.

You hold the ball against your hip, giving him a sassy look. “You know what I mean. Show me how to bowl, o’ wise master,” you say.

He walks over to you, grabbing his ball off the rack and coming to stand a few inches next to you. “Start right about here,” he says and moves you up a few inches. “Hold the ball like this.” He shows you the proper grip and you do your best to copy it.

“Now when you walk forward start off on the same foot, it’s about building the muscle memory.” He demonstrates the walk a few times and when you’re finally able to copy it, he motions for you to try it out.

This try is better than before and you manage to get five pins. When your ball comes up through the rack he picks it up and hands it to you, standing close in the low light.

“Now this time try to spin it with these fingers,” he says and touches them lightly.

You almost drop your ball at the contact. You line back up and walk forward with renewed focus. This time you hit the remaining five pins; a spare. You throw your hands up in celebration and run over to hug Kyungsoo before you can think about it.

He staggers back a step as he catches you in his arms, his hands coming around your back to steady you. You squeal with excitement, pressing yourself against him, squeezing his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you say. “I’ve never gotten a spare before!”

When you pull back he’s watching you curiously, a smirk on his face. You quickly realize you’re basically clinging to him and step back.

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Let’s see if we can get you a strike next.”

You end up getting 78 points to Kyungsoo’s 215, but you do manage to get one strike. Next round you get 99 points to his 195, and two strikes. You pout as you return your shoes with him. “Well, it’s better than I’ve ever done before,” you tell him. “I’ll do even better next time.”

“All right, hot shot. I’ll be ready,” he says, pushing open the door to the parking lot, smiling softly at you.

July 7, 1997

You come back from a night out with your friends playing pool at the pub in the mall to see that Kyungsoo is actually on AOL for once. You log into the chat and message him, figuring tonight is a perfect night to check another thing off his list.

sunshinegrrrl9: of course you choose something basic like your name and not something fun dohkyungsoo: what would you prefer I go by, thegrinch? sunshinegrl9: ha. ha. very funny sunshinegrl9: what are you doing up so late? dohkyungsoo: working on end of the month reports. why? sunshinegrrrl9: i think it’s time you experience the glory of Denny’s at 3 in the morning dohkyungsoo: do I really have to wait until 3 am? sunshinegrrrl9: no, i’ll be nice, i won’t make you wait that long. sunshinegrrrl9: it’s 12:30 now, why don’t you pick me up at 1? dohkyungsoo: deal. see you then.

He pulls up and you can hear him idling out front. You check to make sure that your roommate is asleep before you sneak out the front door. She’s been asking questions about why you’re spending all this time with Kyungsoo.

In the past few weeks you’ve dragged him to a movie marathon at the theater, to the arcade next to the mall, and made him take you to the Seattle waterfront so you could finally experience it and so you both could go to the top of the Space Needle afterwards.

You’d almost even talked him into having a food fight one morning when you opened with him and Chanyeol, but he’d given you both a stern expression and you’d dropped it.

Your roommate reads right through your explanations about the quest, saying she knows that you’re just happy for an excuse to spend all this time with him. But as she’s knee-deep in her own drama with Chanyeol, you’ve both declared your apartment a safe haven from any boy talk. Unless it’s to discuss Leonard DiCaprio in the most recent trailer for Titanic, of course.

You open the car door and slide in, reaching as you always do to turn up the radio. He shakes his head and drives off for the Denny’s near your house. The place is half-full when you arrive and Kyungsoo looks inside in confusion.

“Oh yeah, this is prime Denny’s hours. You don’t even know yet,” you say and open your door.

The waitress leads you to a booth by the window and hands you menus. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asks in a droll voice.

“Two coffees please,” you say before Kyungsoo can speak. He purses his lips in disapproval. “What? Trust me, you’ll need it for the full Denny’s experience.”

He looks around at the brightly lit space, taking in the group of college students at a nearby table, laughing with each other, their textbooks forgotten on the table. The two men at the bar, obviously still drunk, trying to persuade the waitress to give them free pancakes. A group of men and women in leather jackets, clearly just beginning their night, are eating burgers and fries.

The waitress comes back a moment later, dropping off the two coffees and taking your orders.

“Oh yes, this is definitely an experience, that’s for sure,” he says and you laugh. “Anyways, how are you?”

You stir in cream to your coffee and sigh. “I spoke to my mom today and got the usual torture routine.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean?”

“Oh right, I keep forgetting you didn’t know me in Georgia,” you reply with a shake of your head. “My mom’s an old school Southern belle. She wanted me to be married by now, maybe even have a kid. She’s never gotten over the fact that I didn’t want her vision for my life. That I wanted more for myself than to just be a pretty face on the arm of a financially secure, respectable man,” you say with a sigh.

“Does she not see that you’re so much more than just beautiful?” he asks emphatically. He blushes, looking down at his coffee for a beat. “I mean, you’re so warm and kind, you take care of everyone around you. You make people feel seen, appreciated, and you’re smart enough to figure out what they need. And brave too, moving halfway across the country,” he says meeting your eyes.

You’re moved, amazed that he has been paying such close attention to you that he’s able to reassure you like this. To remind you that you have much greater value in the world than just your looks. 

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Kyungsoo. That means a lot,” you say.

“Believe me, I know all about family expectations though,” he says with a sigh, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Really? Tell me,” you say, curious to know more about him.

He starts telling you about his family and how they put a ton of pressure on him growing up, expecting him to become a lawyer. You keep talking, in between bites of the food you ordered. The conversation moves to your debutante days and in return you demand that he tell you about being forced to be on the knowledge bowl team in high school.

Eventually you order another round of coffee and then third. The crowd changes as the night goes on, the bikers and the drunks and the college students clearing out. When the groups of older men and women start coming in you look out the window and realize that the sun is coming up and it’s now after five in the morning.

You and Kyungsoo pay your bills and then sleepily head out. You sneak back into the apartment and fall straight asleep, still wearing your clothes. Before passing out you think to yourself how amazing it is that you basically talked all night with Kyungsoo, the self-proclaimed hermit.

August 1, 1997

“Well I personally think they’re totally underrated,” Chanyeol says from a nearby blanket where he’s discussing bands with Minseok.

No one in your group owned a pick up truck, or even knew someone who did. So you settled for driving out I-90 east for an hour or so until you found a spot to watch the stars. It supposed to be a fantastic night to watch the meteor shower, and out this far from the city lights, the view is spectacular.

You pour a cup of wine and pass it over to Jongin on a blanket next to you. On your other side, Kyungsoo is spread out on the blanket, resting his head against his hand as he watches the sky. You take a sip of the wine and then secure your cup firmly in the grass before spreading out next to him.

You try to find a comfortable spot, but it seems you’re sitting on top of a giant root. Twisting and turning for a moment you finally settle with your back as comfortably as you can with a disgruntled huff. Kyungsoo laughs quietly next to you, watching with amusement.

He scoots over a few inches and holds out his arm. “Just put your head here already,” he says with a laugh.

You move over next to him, sighing to yourself as your body comes into contact with his. You ease your head into the crook between his arm and his shoulder, your side flush against his. 

Everyone in your group quickly joins the discussion with Chanyeol and Minseok, about whether pop music is going to replace the grunge movement and what that would mean for the music industry.

But you and Kyungsoo stay there, watching the stars overhead. You can feel him breathing next to you, his steady presence a comfort. After a while you start seeing bright lights streaking across the sky.

“Guys, look!” you exclaim, drawing their attention.

They all ooh and ahh and you can hear them settle into their blankets. Kyungsoo sighs happily next to you and you turn your head to give him a smile. 

“Thank you for this,” he says quietly so only you can hear.

You reach your arm behind you, lacing your fingers with his and squeeze. “You’re welcome,” you reply just as softly.

As you watch the meteor shower it occurs to you that you should eventually let go of his hand, but he never moves to and neither do you. You only separate an hour or so later when Baekhyun finally starts yawning so badly that you all decide to call it a night.

August 14, 1997

“So if I was looking for somewhere to go skinny dipping around here, I’m assuming you’d be the one to ask?” you say with a grin to Baekhyun.

Hitchcock cracks up laughing, her hands paused in lifting the burger to her mouth. You have Wednesdays off and a standing lunch date with Baekhyun and Hitchcock downtown. You always laugh at seeing your friends out of their casual clothes, dressed up in their professional attire.

“Sunshine, you know it,” Baekhyun starts with a grin. “I’ve got the perfect place. When were you thinking of going?”

“This Saturday? Kyungsoo has the day off for some family thing in the morning, and I think I can talk him into it.”

“Perfect, let’s do it,” he says with a smirk at you and Hitchcock.

August 17, 1997

Saturday is a gorgeous summer evening - warm, clear skies. You all meet up in the mall parking lot at seven to carpool to the spot. The drive is about half an hour away and you all pile into cars, carrying towels, six packs of beer, and Baekhyun’s trusty boombox.

You’re wedged into the back of Chanyeol’s car along with Kyungsoo and Hitchcock while Jongin navigates from the passenger seat.

The Kachess campground is everything you hoped it would be. Warm evening light spills over the tree lined road to the lake, the car rocking as it goes over the bumpy, unpaved path. Every jolt of the car throws you against Hitchcock, who giggles, and Kyungsoo, who looks like he’s feeling something entirely different at your closeness. Your side feels hyper aware of every inch of his body that’s in contact with yours.

Chanyeol turns down a smaller road off the main one, so narrow that the trees brush his car as it passes. Eventually your train of cars emerges into a small clearing. The lake is visible just up ahead through a gap in the trees. Getting out of the car, you can hear the faint sounds of other groups talking nearby, apparently it’s a popular spot.

Chanyeol parks the car and you all hop out, excitedly talking about the evening. Baekhyun strolls over to one of the picnic tables in the clearing and sets up his boombox. Moments later the sounds of Missy Elliot’s new album starts and Minseok groans where he’s grabbing a cooler out of his trunk. His girlfriend pats his shoulder, laughing as she pulls out stacks of plastic cups and plates.

Baekhyun dances to himself, singing along loudly to the music as he proceeds to fail horribly at starting the outdoor grill. Kyungsoo shakes his head and walks over to take charge of manning the grill. You join the group at a nearby table, grabbing a beer and sitting down. 

Baekhyun laughs and takes over setting up the sides, holding two cups to his chest like Madonna, making Hitchcock laugh so hard she almost spits out her sip of beer.

Over the course of the night the group enjoys hamburgers, hot dogs, and plenty of beer and soda. Chanyeol tells a tipsy version of the story of how he and Kyungsoo met in high school during a miserable science class together. Just after nine the sun finally slips below the horizon and everyone starts discussing the impending foray into skinny dipping.

“Well I think we should split up into groups. Seeing you all naked isn’t particularly high on my bucket list,” Minseok says with a laugh and his girlfriend smacks his shoulder.

“Oh come on, it’s a great bonding experience,” Yixing says, tickling his girlfriend and she runs out of his grip giggling.

“I’m only in for this if I can avoid seeing any of your genitals,” Kyungsoo says sternly, folding his arms and staring down Baekhyun with a pointed look. When his eyes meet yours he drops his eyes, a blush forming in his cheeks.

Baekhyun steps forward, the resident skinny dipping expert, and holds up his hands officially. “Okay, ladies and gentleman, how about this? Minseok and his lady over there,” he says, pointing to a path off to the right. “Yixing and his girl the next trail over,” he says pointing to another path on the right.

“Chanyeol, Hitchcock, Jongin and I, as the experienced professionals here, will take the front and center path.” He dramatically points to the main trail leading to the water from the clearing.

“And our new recruit, Kyungsoo, and his corruptor can take the one to the left,” he says and waves his hand toward the only path on the left hand side of the clearing, dense with trees. The water is just visible through the branches up ahead in the growing darkness. “Does that work for everyone?”

The group cheers in agreement and begins the process of packing up the food into coolers, grabbing towels, and meandering off on their various paths. Baekhyun cranks up the boombox to the highest setting, the music echoing through the clearing.

Kyungsoo walks up to you with a nervous sigh, his towel draped over one shoulder and his hands in his pockets. You’re normally the type to strip off your clothes and be first in the water, but around him things are different. With him it feels more intimate, more meaningful. You hold your towel tightly under one arm and tuck your hair behind your ear with the other hand.

“Ready?” he asks gently.

“Let’s do it,” you reply.

He reaches out a tentative hand and you slide your hand into his. Together you navigate the branches and roots in the twilight. You trip over a hidden root and his hand tightens on yours, keeping you upright. Nearby you can hear Baekhyun and Hitchcock screaming to each other and the sound of furious splashing.

You follow Kyungsoo onto the smooth sand of the beach. There’s a few tree logs and you set down your towels. The night is still warm, but the breeze over the lake cools your sticky skin. You sit down on the log to take off your sneakers and Kyungsoo joins you at a respectable distance. Sliding a hair tie off your wrist you twist your hair up into a messy bun.

Kyungsoo and you stand up at the same time and wait awkwardly, both fully aware that the next step is to remove your clothes. His eyes meet yours and his lips twist into a wry smile. You both start laughing at the situation and agree to face away from each other to undress.

As you slide your shirt over your head and throw it on the log you can see his shirt hit the log next to yours in your peripheral vision. You swallow involuntarily, already imagining his naked body behind you.

Your shirt, shorts, and panties are quickly added to the pile and you clasp your hands together against your now naked body. The sun is now completely below the horizon and the sky has turned an inky royal blue, the stars popping out away from the lights of the city.

“Wow, that’s quite a sight,” Kyungsoo says behind you and you turn around abruptly, keeping your eyes above his waist. 

He’s not looking at you, but up at the sky, a look of wonder on his face. You grin to yourself, happy that he’s having this experience – even happier that he’s having it with you.

For a moment you stand there, trying to decide if you should get in the water together and how on earth you’d bring it up. But eventually you just decide to jump in first, while he’s distracted.

With a squeal you take a few running steps forward, bracing your hands against your chest in preparation for the cold. Even in the summer beaches in Washington are bracingly cold. The water drops off quickly, and after three steps you’re up to your chest in water. One more step and your feet slip out from you and you plunge under the water. You catch yourself quickly, windmilling your arms to propel yourself back to the surface.

When you break through, gasping a breath, you let out a huge laugh. You swipe the water from your eyes with your hands and sigh, loving the feeling of the cool water on your skin. You look around and see Kyungsoo watching you from a few feet away as he treads water to stay in place. His hair is slicked back and his skin practically glows in the night, a big grin on his face.

“I should have guessed you’d run in head first,” he laughs. “Just like you do everything.”

You splash him in mock outrage and he splashes you back full force, sending a wave of water over you and pouring your hair into your eyes. You laugh as you brush your hair out of your eyes.

“So, how is it? Your first time skinny dipping?” you ask and raise a brow.

He looks around at you, the sky, and the lake lit up by moonlight. He leans his head back into the water for a moment and you can see his wistful smile when he tilts back up.

“Definitely more pleasant than I was expecting,” he says, voice low.

You blush and look away, remembering all of a sudden that you’re both naked and only separated by a few feet of water. You try and think back to the last time you were completely naked in front of a man and are surprised when none immediately come to mind. It was at least before you moved to Washington, that’s for sure.

Maybe Ethan? Your last boyfriend in Georgia. You widen your eyes when you realize that it’s been over a year since then, and before him it was just a handful of fun short term relationships in high school and college. 

No one that makes you feel like Kyungsoo though. When he looks at you it feels like you’re the only person in the world.

A loud noise comes from around the bend, what sounds like Chanyeol screaming about “drowning,” drawing you back to the moment. Kyungsoo’s still watching you with that intense expression of his, just content to be in your presence. You love that the two of you don’t need words all the time, that you can just exist together. After a beat you start swimming further out from the beach, shivering as the cool water rushes along your body.

Kyungsoo joins you and you quickly lose track of time swimming together in slow circles around the area. Eventually you see a flash of lights through the trees.

“KYUNGSOO, SUNSHINE, WE’RE HEADING OUT SOOOON,” Baekhyun calls from the clearing.

The two of you swim closer to the shore and once you get to chest deep you turn towards each other at the same moment. It’s full dark now, but the moon is nearly completely full and casts a bright light all around you. If either of you gets out of the water, you’ll be almost completely visible. Kyungsoo motions you to the shore.

“Why don’t you get out first and I’ll turn around? Then you can do the same for me?” he says gently, trying to not to laugh.

You breathe out a laugh, glad that the potentially awkward situation was avoided. He turns around, putting his hands over his eyes and humming. You crack up and splash him in the back. The air is growing colder and you clutch your hands to your chest as you dash up the beach to the log that has your towel.

You quickly dry the water off your skin, twist your hair to get out the majority of the water and then wrap the towel around you. You slip on your panties and shorts and look at your sports bra in frustration. Somehow you manage to get it onto your damp skin and throw on your shirt. You put on your shoes and socks quickly.

“Okay, you’re all clear!” you call and sit down on one end of the log, turning to the side and covering your eyes with one hand.

You hear him approach and start toweling off, your body flooding with heat as you imagine him just a few steps away, naked. You shake your head to yourself, smiling.

“All clear,” he says next to you a minute later.

You drop your hand and he’s thrown his shirt and shorts on, his hair messed up from the water. With a grin you stand up and come over to him, holding your towel in one hand and ruffling his wet hair with the other, sending drops falling onto his face.

When you drop your hand you realize he’s not laughing with you, he’s regarding you with something much headier. You take an involuntary step back in surprise, but his hands on your elbows stop you from going too far.

You clutch the towel to your chest with both hands, desperately trying to stop your hands from reaching for him. The tension grows unbearable as you both stand there, so close that you can feel his breath on your face. Heat blooms low in your body at his nearness, and a crazy desire to lean forward and kiss him.

Your soft voice breaks the silence. A single word falls from your lips – his name, barely above a whisper. It’s all the invitation he needs. 

With a rush, he bends down and his lips are on yours. You make a small noise of surprise against his mouth, surprise that this is finally happening.

He pauses a moment, his full lips held gently against yours. Then he moves his mouth, brushing it more insistently against yours. You toss the towel away from you and close the distance, bringing your hands to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer. Your bodies collide and he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you, a groan leaving his lips at the contact.

For someone so reserved, he kisses like a wildfire. He slips his hand up to cup your face, holding you steady while he sweeps his lips along yours. Your wet clothes quickly heat up as you move against each other, a friction that makes you wish there were no layers between you two.

His hand on your back tightens, molding your body against his. You moan against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to lick along your bottom lip. You gasp in surprise and he lets out a low laugh. He guides you back to him, humming in satisfaction as you work your lips against his.

“WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!” Baekhyun yells again.

You pull back, dazed. Kyungsoo keeps his hold on your back and turns in the direction of the group.

“FIVE MORE MINUTES!” he yells back, a boyish grin on his face that sends butterflies to your stomach. He turns back to you. “You’re not getting away that easy,” he says in a low voice, dipping down to give you a kiss. You laugh against his lips.

“You know, I’ve never made out in a move theater before. But I’m pretty sure this is even better,” he says in your ear.

“Mm, I’d have to say I agree,” you reply and lean up to capture his lips again.

When you can’t leave the group hanging anymore, you grab his hand and lead the way through the trees back to the group. Though it’s dark and you can hardly see where you’re going, you know that his grin is just as big as yours.

November 1, 1997

The idea comes to you on one of your girls lunches. Something else that Kyungsoo has never done – a school dance. You think up the idea for an Exodus Mall prom and in no time, the rest of the girls are excitedly planning along with you. Everyone welcomes the opportunity to dress up and to either relive a treasured memory from high school or to create a better one.

Between the group you divide and conquer. Jongin reserves a room at the KOKO exercise studio that’s large enough for the event. Minseok agrees to provide the music. Hitchcock and Baekhyun make sure that everyone in the entire mall receives an invitation. Yixing and Chanyeol agree to provide food and desserts. Yixing’s girlfriend and your roommate make the decorations.

You do your best to keep things under wraps from Kyungsoo as a surprise. The prom is set for a Friday night, your usual date night. Well, your unofficial date night. 

The past two and a half months since you kissed at the lake have been an interesting dance. Neither of you has said anything official. Your adventures together still continue, they just now involve a lot more kissing.

You come into work one morning, holding an invitation behind your back. The last one that you saved just for him. He’s kneading dough like always, but now he anticipates your arrival. You still trade off buying each other coffee, and today he has your favorite waiting on the counter. 

He wipes his flour-covered hands on a towel and reaches for you. His hands find your favorite spot, just beneath your ears, and he pulls you in for a quick kiss. 

You hum happily against his lips and pull back to look at him. If you hadn’t met him before, hadn’t seen him so closed off and grouchy, you’d have thought this was how he always looked. His warm eyes glowing with joy, a contented, relaxed smile on his lips. But you did know him before, and seeing the transformation over the past few months fills you suddenly with a wave of love.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning against the counter, keeping an arm around your waist. “What have you got there?” he asks, nodding his head to your hands still clasped behind your back.

“Oh this?” you say coyly. “It’s for you.”

You pull out the invitation and hand it to him. His eyes quickly scan it and he looks back up to you, brow furrowed in confusion. “Will you go to prom with me?” you ask, grinning.

He laughs, looking at you with amusement. “Absolutely,” he replies and gives you another quick kiss before you start working on your respective morning tasks.

November 13, 1997

No one is really able to concentrate the day of the mall prom, but you all do your best. Kyungsoo agreed to close the store at five for the special event, so everyone could have enough time to go home and get ready. You head home with your roommate after checking with Kyungsoo that he’s picking you up at seven.

Your roommate is applying her make up when you arrive. Hitchcock comes over a minute or two after you get to the apartment, brandishing two bottles of champagne. Your friend from Starlight comes over, a long gold gown draped over her arm and a boombox in the other.

Your roommate chose a long black dress and everyone squeals when she comes out, saying she’s totally having an Audrey Hepburn moment. Hitchcock is wearing a body-hugging teal dress and you let out a wolf whistle when she comes out.

You change last. Your dress is floor length, deep red, with a slit in one leg. It flares out behind you. You leave your hair loose and wavy around your shoulders and pair it with a swipe of eyeliner and a red lip. 

Everyone screams when you come out of the bathroom. Hitchcock leans against the wall, holding a glass of champagne in one hand. She dramatically pretends to dab tears out of her eyes.

“You know he’s going to die when he sees you, right?” she asks with a wistful grin, looking you up and down.

“Who? Kyungsoo?” you ask.

“Who else? If he wasn’t already head over heels in love with you, he would be after he sees you in this dress,” you roommate says as she walks by, a curling iron in her hand.

You blush, an unexpected nervous excited energy settling in your stomach. A car horn honks outside and you look around curiously. The guys weren’t planning on being here for another fifteen minutes. You move your dress out of the way and walk over to the window. 

A stretch limo waits outside. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are leaning out of the open top window, waving dramatically. Kyungsoo and your friend’s date, Sehun you think is his name, are standing out front, looking dapper in suits.

“Oh my god, get over here you guys,” you say, grinning. “You’re not going to believe this.”

You open the door and the girls rush up behind you. Everyone screams excitedly when they see the limo waiting. Hitchcock tells the guys to give you all five more minutes to get ready and slams the door, laughing.

In a flurry of activity shoes are found, hair is pinned into place, earrings are located, and make up is finalized. You all take turns walking down the stairs of your apartment, making a grand entrance.

You lock the door behind you and put the keys into your purse. You can hear everyone inside the limo laughing and cracking open yet another bottle of champagne. Kyungsoo waits by the door, hands in his pockets, watching you with awe. As you make your way down the stairs he lets out a whistle.

“You sure clean up nice yourself,” you counter. 

His dark hair is parted on the side and slicked back from his face. He looks like he’s on the way to an awards show. The look definitely suits him, you decide.

When you reach him he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the top. You lean over and brush a quick kiss to his mouth. A chorus of ooooohs come from inside the limo and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and grins at you.

The ride to the mall is much too short so you all ask the driver to circle the building a few times. Once you arrive you see that the KOKO exercise studio is completely transformed. The set up you did earlier in the day looks even more incredible at night.

As you head into the building you see that there’s already quite a crowd assembled. The mirrored studio reflects the shiny decorations hanging from the ceiling. Minseok’s selections are playing in the background and everyone is enjoying the food and dessert buffet.

After you eat you drag Kyungsoo onto the dance floor, laughing happily as he twirls you around before pulling you into his arms. The song switches to a slower tempo and you step closer, linking your arms over his shoulders, his hands come to your waist. 

He hums along to the song, a contented smile on his face. “Can I ask you a question?”

You nod. “Always.”

“Why did you do all of this? The prom, this whole summer?” he asks, carefully watching your reaction.

You look away and open your mouth to give the reasons you’ve been saying to your friends the past few months. 

“Because he was deprived of many incredible experiences and I wanted to make sure he had them.” 

“Because he’s a good boss, a good friend, and he deserves something light and fun in his life.”

But the words get caught in your throat. You can always lie to yourself, but if there’s one person you feel compelled to be honest with, it’s him. You duck your head, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

When you look back to him he thinks to himself that he’s never seen you so vulnerable and so hopeful. The love radiating from your face makes his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

“You know why, Kyungsoo,” you say. Your voice is soft, a small, wistful smile on your face.

“I think I do. But would you say it for me? Please, I have to know for sure,” he says urgently.

“Because I love you,” you say with a shrug and a tilt of your head, the words free of doubt or fear. A giddy laugh escapes from you. After thinking the words for so many weeks it feels surreal to finally be saying them out loud.

He looks so shocked, you think he would have looked less surprised if you’d slapped him. He furrows his brow adorably and you stifle a giggle. His hands come to gently cup your elbows. He meets your gaze with renewed intensity.

“Say it again, please Sunshine. Say it again,” he whispers, so close to you his breath brushes your cheeks. You smile to yourself, the nickname sounding like the most intimate of endearments coming from him.

“I love you Doh Kyungsoo, every wild, crazy inch of me,” you say and your breath hitches. 

The truth of the words filling every part of your body. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact time it happened, but his happiness has become as important to you as your own.

A brilliant smile blooms on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners with warmth. He brushes the hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear.

“This whole time I’ve been falling in love with you. But I was afraid that this was just something fun for you. A quest. Something to fill your nights with. I never dreamed that you’d feel the same way about me,” he says in a rush, holding your gaze.

“I love you Sunshine. With all my heart,” he says, voice low and full of emotion.

You pull him into a hug, resting your forehead against his neck, feeling happy tears welling up in your eyes. He holds you close, running his hands up and down your back as you sway to the music. After a few minutes you pull back, dabbing your eyes and you smile at each other. Tentatively at first, and then fully.

“Would you come home with me tonight?” he asks with a wry smile.

You laugh and press a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, absolutely.”

You, Kyungsoo, and your friends dance the night away and by midnight you’re all considerably more disheveled than when you arrived, but it’s completely worth it. Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol aside and asks if he wouldn’t mind crashing on Baekhyun’s couch tonight and he gives you both a wide grin.

“All right kids, now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he says with faux seriousness and you roll your eyes at him.

Once the evening is over you go with Kyungsoo in his car, his hand holding yours as he drives. He pulls up out front of the apartment he shares with Chanyeol and he lets out a groan.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he rubs his hand over his face.

“Uhh, I just realized… if we’re planning on doing certain activities tonight… I don’t really have the necessary precautions,” he says and gives you a knowing look.

A beat later you let out a laugh. “Ohhh, you mean condoms? Shit, I don’t have any either,” you say, unable to contain your grin. “Let’s go get some, there’s got to be a drug store around here.”

He looks down at his suit and over at your long, elegant dress and gives you a wry smile. “All right, princess, let’s go.”

After a few blocks you see a Rite Aid up ahead and pull up out front. He meets you around the front of the car and clasps his hand around yours. You run into the store together, laughing. The night staff, an older man and woman at the register regard you curiously as you hurry past them.

You reach the aisle and stand there staring at the wide array of options.

“Oh my gosh, I just realized we’re sleeping together for the first time on prom night. How cliché of us,” you say with a giggle. “Although, it’s not too stereotypical - I’m not a virgin.”

“Neither am I,” he says with a laugh.

“I wish it had been with someone like you, though,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Someone like me?” he says, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

You look down at the floor, trying to figure out how to put how he makes you feel into words. “Yeah, someone strong, and steady. And safe.”

He lets out a laugh. “Safe? That sounds awfully similar to boring.”

“No, no. You don’t understand,” you say emphatically, coming to stand fully in front of him, grabbing his other hand as well. “You never ask me to be anything but who I am. You’re patient, kind, caring. For the longest time I thought that falling in love would be stifling. That it would… I don’t know, take my independence. Take my spirit. Make me into someone I don’t recognize.”

You step closer, holding his face in your hands. “But I can’t think of anything I want more than to be with you. You make me the best version of who I am. I don’t know how it is for you, being with me. But when I’m with you, it just feels like… home,” you finish gently.

He gives you a brilliant smile, leaning forward to capture your lips with his for a long moment. “Hmm, how do I feel when I’m with you,” he says, considering. 

“Like I’m simultaneously on fire and completely at peace, if that makes sense. You make me much less cranky, which I’m sure everyone appreciates,” he says and you laugh. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and to have you be mine? I’d consider myself the luckiest man in the world.”

“Well guess what? I’m all yours,” you say and he picks you up, spinning you around.

You squeal and cling to him. The workers at the register lean over to look at you and roll their eyes. He sets you down and you peruse the display with greater focus. Eventually you decide and bring your selection to the register. The older clerk stares you down with a wry smile as she rings you up. 

Once she hands you the bag you dash back out into the parking lot and drive to his apartment as quickly as you can.

He runs up the steps with you right behind him. Once you’re through the door he kicks it behind him and comes up to you. He bends down and picks you up, a hand under your knees and one under your shoulders. You squeal and laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck to hold on. He reaches the bedroom at the end of the hall and flicks on the light with his elbow before gently setting you down.

You regard each other for a moment. Holding his gaze, you kick off your heels and pull your hair to one side. You turn around and look at him over your shoulder. He steps up behind you, running his hand along the delicate skin at the base of your neck and down to the zipper. 

His finger brushes along your back as he draws it down and a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine.

His hands slide inside the fabric and push it gently off your shoulder. The dress pools at your feet and you step out, clad in only your red satin bra and panties. He stares hungrily at your body, running his hand along his lower lip. 

You move the dress to the side with your foot and step up to him. “My turn,” you say with a sly smile.

You slip off his jacket and toss it on the chair by the bed. You do your best to untie his tie, but can’t seem to work out the knot. He chuckles and helps you out, slipping it off easily. You unbutton his shirt slowly and add it to the pile. He strips off his undershirt while you make quick work of his pants. Once he’s down to his boxer-briefs he pulls you to him, trailing a line of kisses down your neck and along your shoulder.

You moan, leaning your head back and holding onto his waist for support. He turns, moving to sit on the bed and pulling you on top of him. You let out a hiss of pleasure as his erection comes into contact with your clothed core. 

He stills, closing his eyes to enjoy the sensation. You take the moment to unhook your bra, sliding it down your arms and throwing it behind you. When he looks back at your naked chest his eyes go wide and darken with desire.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he says with a chuckle.

You grin and grind on his lap, sucking in a breath at how good he feels. He slides his hands to the backs of your thighs and twists, dropping you down onto the mattress on your back as you squeal and cling to him. He settles between your legs, his lean body flush against yours.

He bends down to slide his mouth over yours and starts slowly rocking his hips. You clutch his back, letting out needy whines against his open mouth. He smiles against your lips and draws a hand up to massage that sensitive spot behind your ear. After weeks of making out, you’re helpless against him, you realize with a laugh, he already knows all your weaknesses.

“Okay, now you’re going to kill me,” you say and breathe out a sigh.

He laughs and pulls back to look you in the eye, trailing a hand down your body to play with the edge of your panties. You feel a rush of heat to your core, desperate for his touch any way you can have it. His finger dips below the fabric and runs along your slit.

Your mouth falls open and you shut your eyes in pleasure. He continues his assault, trailing two fingers up and down, before slowly circling your clit. You clench your legs together around his hand and bite your lip.

“You’re so ready for me,” he says in amazement. “I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

You open your eyes to give him a sarcastic look. “Then it really would be like prom night,” you tease.

He gives you a devilish grin and slides a finger into you. You choke out a laugh. “Mercy, please,’ you plead with a high voice. ‘I need you inside me, like, yesterday.’

He withdraws his finger and carefully works off your underwear, moving your legs to the side so he can slip them off before throwing them on the floor. He looks around the room for the bag, finally finding it underneath your dress on the floor. He pulls out a condom and sheaths himself after sliding his underwear off.

When he positions himself above you again, you feel his heat against your core and bite your lip in anticipation. He bends down and kisses you, his tongue quickly slipping into your mouth as he braces himself on the bed. You clutch his arms to ground yourself as he eases inside you, groaning into each other’s mouths as he fills you to the hilt.

A beat later he starts to move, setting a steady pace. After months of only getting off with your own hands, he feels so good you could cry. He tilts his body over yours, the change in angle bringing him into contact with your clit with every thrust. You whimper into his mouth, a high keening sound, and grip his arms tightly. 

You pull back, resting your forehead against his. “Come with me,” you plead, breathing heavy.

He nods, panting. “I’m so close, are you?” he asks, eyes half closed in pleasure.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur in assent, hardly able to speak. “If you touch me, I’ll lose it in a heartbeat.”

He grins and leans up. His finger finds your clit, swirling messy circles as he thrusts faster and harder into you. Your orgasm rips through you, a strangled cry leaving your lips. He finds his completion right behind you, letting out a deep groan. 

You stay there for several minutes, his weight on top of you grounding you as the world swims back into focus.

He presses a kiss to your lips and then eases himself out of you. He gets out of bed and disposes of the condom. Turning off the light, he throws back the covers, getting underneath. He holds them open for you. You follow and he pulls you to his chest, kissing your forehead. 

“So, what did you think of your first prom?” you ask, stifling a yawn.

He laughs, snuggling against you. “It was perfect, Sunshine.”

[teardropper]

How to make Curse of Strahd better for the modern gamer.

I read a very well-written pair of posts on gomakemeasandwich.wordpress.com, a feminist blog about “how not to sell games to women.” These two posts (post 1, post 2) outlined a number of problems present in the Curse of Strahd adventure, and I think the posts would be a very good read for @dndwizards, who are still trying very hard to make the hobby into an inclusive one.

Before I list off all the things that a DM can do to solve the problems presented in the posts, I want to play Devil’s advocate for a moment. Obviously, the adventure has some problems, but I think there are definitely reasons for their existence.

The adventure is an adaptation of one written a very long time ago, and the writers wanted to stay faithful to the original.

Some of the problems (especially those with the Romani and mongrelfolk) are obviously unintentional, and not meant to offend.

The land of Barovia is designed to feel like an awful place that the PCs don’t want to be in, so all the horrible things that happen there are supposed to be horrible.

All this being said, they are still problems, and I have presented the following list of potential solutions (don’t continue reading if you want to avoid spoilers):

Save the mongrelfolk.

Tie their insanity to Strahd’s domain. The mist is what made them this way, and they will remain so until Barovia is freed from Strahd.

Add an NPC in Krezk, perhaps an outsider trapped in Barovia, who is trying to save the mongrelfolk. (This would have to be a recent effort, as the mongrelfolk have not started to have been saved yet.)

“If Strahd is killed, the mists will fade, and the poor mongrelfolk will return to their true, uncorrupted state. They were once simply Beastfolk, like

Diversify genders of those corrupted by Strahd.

Have one of Strahd’s brides be a man.

Have someone mention men in the past who were corrupted by Strahd and so killed, in the same vein as Varushka/Marina.

Equalize/better the treatment of madness in men and women.

Make the burgomaster of Vallaki a woman.

Create a situation in which someone is trying to help Stella Wachter, make it clear that Victor cast a spell on her.

Have Victor Vallakovich locked up for murder.

In general, have some NPCs, Barovians with souls, ask the players to help those who have gone mad, such as Mary, Stella, so on. Instead of treating the mad people like threats to society, have other NPCs treat them as people who need help.

Emphasize the fact that it is the mist, and Strahd’s hold on Barovia that makes madness so common. Once Strahd is defeated, those who have gone mad will be able to recover. Instead of using madness purely for atmosphere, use it to motivate the players to their final goal.

Turn the dial down on man-on-woman/child violence/murder.

Don’t use Death House.

Instead of all female dusk elves being murdered, pretty much reducing them to walking uteruses, all male dusk elves are banished to different worlds. Men are just as necessary in reproduction as women, and in Strahd’s eyes, more likely to pose a threat. The effort involved in killing so many people is greater than that of simply having the fog take them out of Barovia. Now all dusk elves are female. (perhaps some dusk elf males disguised as females), and they want Strahd dead so they can reunite with their male loved ones.

Make Petrina a man. (Petri?)

Make it a lot easier to save Arabelle.

Flesh golem is not specifically women, just random dug-up bodies.

Make it more clear that Erasmus was an adult.

If you or your player group are sensitive to such things, it would be easy enough to simply remove the werewolf death-fights, as well as Old Bonegrinder. In either case, children could be substituted for adults, with no huge ramifications.

Make most Vistani good, having evil/neutral be the exception.

Make it clear early on that anyone the party saves will be safe with the Vistani. This helps in multiple ways:

Presents the Vistani as allies in the fight against Strahd. Shows that the Vistani are trying to get the Barovians to stop distrusting them. Demonstrates that the Vistani are different than the Barovians, their freedom makes them more sane, which means they are more trustworthy. Gives you something to do with all of the children and other people you end up saving.

Make it clear that the idea of the Vistani being “evil” is false, and simply stems from a misunderstanding on the part of the Barovians, another facet of their fearful nature.

Have the Vistani not be servants of Strahd, instead have them be helpful to the party.

The Vistani are human people, they have emotions, obviously they sympathize with the Barovian people, even if those people misunderstand them.

“It is said that we are free to leave this place, but then, why would we keep coming back?” Strahd has secretly cursed/charmed the Vistani so that, even though they are able to leave, they choose not to.

Turn the dial down on harmful Romani stereotypes in the Vistani.

Don’t use the Mysterious Visitors hook.

Don’t use the Plea for Help hook.

When describing groups of Vistani, de-emphasize the amount of drunkenness.

Separate the idea of the escape potion from the Vistani altogether, create a separate NPC/group for this concept, perhaps an outsider looking to capitalize on their captivity.

Bandits instead of Vistani bandits.

Instead of Vallaki saying “Vistani aren’t welcome,” say “Vistani prefer to keep to themselves.”

Create an assassin NPC for the Vallaki camp, instead of the Vistani generally.

Arabelle is prone to wandering, so nobody noticed her leaving, as opposed to everyone being drunk.

Luvash doesn’t care about wine until his daughter is back

Rudolph van Richten’s son was stolen by wolves.

While some Barovian people may have superstitions about Vistani curses, these are unfounded.

Separate Madame Eva from the Vistani camp, have her appear on her own. There’s really no reason for her to be a Vistani or be connected to the Vistani in any way.

I specifically did not even think about removing the Vistani altogether, as they are very evocative. My hope was to keep the fun stereotypes, like the clothing and the nomadism, and remove the negative stereotypes, like the drunkenness, thievery, lying, and especially the kidnapping. It would be easy enough to remove them altogether, but with some modifications, they can be a fun part of the dark world.

Here in America, where I live, Romani stereotypes aren’t harmful like they are in Europe, so obviously, if you are playing in a group where these sorts of things could be a bigger problem, then it would be plenty easy to remove them altogether.

In conclusion, Curse of Strahd is a great adventure module, its sandbox style is great fun, and it would be a shame to ignore it due to some hold-over problems from 34 years ago that can easily be fixed.

Also, here’s a link to this post as a Google Doc if you want to find it later: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DCEnASdrJc5VN5EL5OkBU8UdJiYdi0Huhp_pYocWurw/edit?usp=sharing

[thebootybitchdragon]

So, first of all, I am super excited to have found somebody as excited about the clone as I am. I've been thinking about it a lot since Butch posted his video. But, I'm confused, because I thought this was ten years into the future? Wouldn't original Danny be older? Like 24 I think? Aside from that, you guys got some really good ideas about this character, and I've been laughing at some of the comments for a good few minutes.

AHHHH someone else who likes the clone!Welcome friend!!! 8) lmao, I was browsing the Phantom tag yesterday waswas so disheartened by how many people were irritable at all of thedesigns or downright kicking them to the curb. Which, isunderstandable, everyone has their tastes, and I agree that most ofthem are just…..Put Them Back embodiments, but it was still sad tosee so little interest in the Clone.

Because its such a good idea ripe withpotential, both for TUE levels of darkness and for hilariousscenarios. For once (ONCE) Butch has done okay by me.

And now to actually answer yourquestion, lmao: Yes, you are correct, the original concept was Vladfor ten years into the future, with a teenage Danny clone (I do admitthat’s super squick, like Vlad do you have no other hobbies besidesbeing fucking creepy? Go outside and play some tennis my dude.) sincethe video was a part 2 to the original Phantom concepts for the tenyear anniversary. However, at least in the ideas and concepts I’vebeen talking about and personally throwing around, I’ve gotten rid ofthe ten year span.

Because it literally doesn’t makesense.

I have contempt for the officialPhantom timeline bc its so inconsistent, but a majority of peoplehave it taking place over a two year time span, based on the twosummer episodes. (This is something I personally don’t agree with,but I have no evidence to argue it so I’m stuck like a petulantchild grumbling in the corner) and Vlad gives Valerie her gear in S1Ep10, Shades of Grey. I cannot recall if it was specifically statedin canon Vlad was using her to get Danny’s DNA, but I’m trustingthe wiki bc I really don’t want to endure re-watching Kindred Spiritsand D-Stabalized. If we assume that this had been Vlad’s goal fromthe start (something I disagree with and will touch more aboutbelow), that means that he’s been gathering Danny’s DNA for about ayear to two years if we estimate heavily with the nonsense timebetween the episodes.

In that time span, he figured out howto do the cloning, built the equipment, went through countlessprototypes to figure out all the bumps and snags, made severaldecently “functional” clones (Dani and the one he fucking murdersas a display), made the “perfect” one, and figured out exactlywhat he needed to stabilize an artificial hybrid of ghost and humanorigin.

In two years max.

It would not take him ten fuckin yearsto recreate a successful perfect clone. Even if everything wasdestroyed twice and he lost Valerie’s “assistance”. And thereason for that is because he already knows how. The hard part isdone. Once you know how to do something through so much trial anderror, you know what not to do and what you should do the nexttime around. Vlad doesn’t need to re-figure out how to make astable, perfect clone again, he can just get the equipment, the DNA,whatever and just do it.

Which he was most likely attemptingto already do in D-stabilized.

[Edit: I neglected to look on thewiki before writing this entire thing bc I was confident I know thematerial and apparently I need to get a reality check on my ego bc Iwas completely misremembering D-Stabalized. The fallowing should betaken with gratuitous lumps of salt bc I’m salty at this discoveryand also I haven’t changed anything in it.]

Why do you think hewas going after Dani? Why would he want that information of “Whyare you so stable?” if he wasn’t trying again? If he wasn’t at thepoint that he NEEDED to stabilize something? For future knowledge?Please. If Vlad was truly going to make another perfect clone, hewould not wait several months after loosing the first doing literallynothing but tormenting Danny and being an ass, nor until after he’sfigured out Dani. He was working on the Clone project for a long timeunder everyone’s noses in the first place, so who’s to say he wasn’tagain?

I’m saying Vlad wasliterally within inches of succeeding in D-stabalized. That healready had a second Clone ready to stabilize.

[Edit: I was incorrect in thinkingVlad only wanted Dani to learn why she’s stable, he wanted to use herto make another perfect clone. I was close, but not close enough. Iam still standing by my theory, however, canon can suck it. It’sstill at least feasible.]

Hartman suggestedin the video, as I’m sure you know, that the Clone (I call himDaniel bc there’s literally no way he’s not namedDaniel.) has some of Vlad in him. And this, my friend, melds so well with where canon dropped off.

Vlad wanted andattempted to stabilize the clones with Danny’s full DNA, probably soit would be 100% Danny, enough to the point he was willing to murderDani to figure her out/use her. However, after failing to get themid-morph from Danny (failure 1) and failing to get anything fromDani (failure 2), Vlad would be unlikely to try the same thingsagain. I would also like to think he’d also be unlikely to continuing to announce “OI I’M CLONEING YOU” to Danny, but it’sVlad so you never know.

He would be forcedto think of something else.

There is nothing incanon suggesting that Vlad couldn’t use his own mid-morph tostabalize a clone. He never brings it up, never explains why themid-morph is the critical link aside from the fact that it just is.There’s very little info about just how these clones are made, sothere’s no known rules to what could work and what wouldn’t. A possible reason this might not work is that it could function likebody parts or blood types, where you need a match in order for it tobe properly accepted. In that case, however, its just figuring outwhat you need to tweak in order to force an acceptance, somethingprobably made easier to do when you’re in control of the entiregenetic sequence you’re fiddling with.

This would not taketen years to do. None of it would. It would take at most, I think ayear. Maybe two, but that’s pushing it. I also have a theorythat Vlad was being so obtuse in Season 3 was to purposefullydistract Danny, but take that as you will.

This is all of myfancy way of explaining why my personal ideas are set so close to theactual canon and kicking that gross ten years to the curb.

As for my forgotten notion about why Idon’t think Vlad started cloning from Valerie’s beginning was becauseVlad was still mostly focused on Maddie up until Maternal Instincts,which occurs 6 episodes after Shades of Grey. Shades of Greyis only three episodes from Bitter Reunions as well.That’s a pretty small amount of time for someone still (reasonably)sane to go “I liked that kid, I want him to be my son. I shouldclone him.”

I’d also like to state that in the fourepisodes Vlad appears in before Kindred Spirits (not including TUE)but after Maternal Instincts, not once is his main goal Danny.Nor is it ever Maddie, either. Danny becomes a factor in MillionDollar Ghost, however his main goal is still stealing the portal. InReign Storm, he’s more inclined to use Danny than to try to make himhis son, bc again: his goal is the artifacts. In Secret Weapons, Vladisn’t even interested in Danny when he’s dropped in the middleof his lab. Tbh, I can’t for the life of me figure out what Vlad’sgoal was in the whole sibling battle thing, he really just fucked hisplans up himself in that one. In Masters of All Time, his goal wasthe cure, and again, had no problems using Danny as a pawn.

Kindred Spirits is the first place inthe entire series where we see the extent of how far he’s willing togo to get Danny to be his son. The first episode where it’s his maingoal.

I just realized how close MaoT andKinSpirits are, I wonder if Vlad triggered the Ectoacne flare workingwith the ectoplasm for the clones? Hmmm, interesting.

Anyway, the point is: Vlad kept hiscloning stuff a secret, but for how long remains a mystery. Mostlybecause there’s no point in time where it becomes obvious just howdesperate he is to have Danny. Is it when he saw an opportunity withValerie? Or is it after Danny ruins his attempts to get the Ring ofRage back from Pariah by blowing up the ectosuit so he was just like“Well fuck, now what do I do to keep myself busy?”

Getting back onto the topic of Cloneand Original Danny, there’s a second, lesser reason I’ve personallybumped the time skip, and that’s because there would be literallyZero conflict between a 14 year old and a 24 year old.

OlderDanny would kick his ass, trainingfrom Vlad be damned.

OlderDanny would also not be fazed asmuch as a younger Danny as his identity being perverted by a clone.This is because the age gap would automatically render them as beingtwo different people. OlderDanny would not see the clone as himself,at least not fully, because he’s already a mature adult. The clonecould not torment Danny with the fact that he’s him, that he’sstealing anything, that he’s threatening his notion of being andsense of self. Because OlderDanny has nothing to fear about a youngerversion of himself; he’s stronger, wiser, and different enough. Thedynamic simply doesn’t work. This is why Danny could be okay withDani: he doesn’t see himself in her. He doesn’t think of her as aclone, as the doppelganger. Because she’s a girl, she’s younger,she’s different. She isn’t him in his eyes.

With an identical copy, that’s notsomething you can avoid or ignore. Can’t deny that its not your facetwisting into that evil smirk that looks so wrong because itsfamiliar but not. Its you, but its not, and its uncomfortable,its an invasion of privacy, the ultimate identity theft. Its a personthat wears your face, sees with your eyes, speaks with your voice,thinks with your brain, and bleeds with your blood. And yet its notyou.

The closest thing Danny had to this wasDan. But Dan could be defeated. Dan could be made so that he neverexisted in the first place, completely avoided.

Daniel could not.

Daniel’s creation is out of Danny’scontrol, his existence never takes into account what Danny wants orcares, because its done at Vlad’s whims. And that’s the worstpart: the lack of control. To know that an identical yet completelywrong version of yourself exists against your will and you haveabsolutely no control over it is torture, especially for someone whoalready had cause to fear himself once before. Sure, Danny can fightDaniel, suck him up into a thermos, and maybe kick it into the ghostzone to try to be rid of him forever, but he would still existand he could always come back. Unlike Dan.  And there’snothing Danny could do about it.

What even could be do? Try todestabilize him? Ask clockwork to erase him from existence? Lock himin a thermos and bury him deep in the ice caps? Kill him?

Would Danny truly be the person to tryany of those?

In other words, the closer Daniel is tobeing like Danny, the worse effect it would have. So its all aboutmaximizing that to get the full potential of the conflict. Dannyneeds a reason to see Daniel’s creation as the ultimate line crossed,the “This has gone too far” moment. Danny needs a reasonto not only despise, but fear his clone.

There are some….problems, with this,and I’ve already used them in my argument: the fact that it another you is too different, you stop seeing it as yourself. AndDaniel is not an identical copy. He has aspects of Vlad in him.There’s a very fine line to be walked, between Daniel being similarenough that it hurts Danny while being different enough to count as adifferent character. The design alone might already doom it. But fuckit, you people can pry my inverted skunk haired baby from my colddead hands.

I realize that this is a very longresponse, and very little of it pertains to what you asked. However,I hope you enjoyed my analysis and my explanation of my personalreasoning. This was a lot of fun to talk about (I can’t remember if Igot into some of the things in other asks or if I’m recalling themfrom a thing I was gonna post but hasn’t gotten to yet. If thereare repeat things, I’m sorry! My memory is v bad.) and I thank youfor the ask!

I also realize that a majority of thisask talks about making Daniel Danny’s worst enemy, which goes againstthe “They slowly become bed buds” ask I got earlier. I receivedthat ask before I really had any ideas of what to do with Daniel, andsince I’m loving this worst enemy idea, the conflict isunderstandable. The friend idea is still on the table tho! All itneeds now is a climax, a trigger, a turning point. Something thatchanges the dynamic to start that “I hate you, but not as much as Idid, and I kinda sorta enjoy your company a little bit.” ball a’rollin.

Fuck if I know what that is tho lmao

[bookishgrace]

Trapped

I have no idea how long I’ve been here.

Long enough that I’m freezing cold, starving and exhausted. I never expected to wait for this long, but I haven’t got long left to wait. That’s good, right?

Waiting can be good too. Especially when you don’t have a crosswords book or a needle and some yarn to keep you distracted. It sounds bad but it actually makes your mind wander. I have remembered things I haven’t thought about in so long, it’s hard to believe I actually lived them. And I have planned all the trips I’m going to take for at least the next year.

See, when I was a child, I didn’t have much to wait for. I waited for the new school year to start after I got bored of the “big summer break”. I waited for the Ice Cream truck just so I could hear the music. There’s no way my mother would’ve actually bought me anything. As a child, I was frustrated. But now? I understand life wasn’t easy. My dad had left us. Never heard of him again. Or maybe he died? Now that I think about it, it would make sense. I was very sheltered. My mum kept the remains of three of our cats buried in the garden and told me they had gone on an adventure. Until I was fourteen and got into gardening. Well… You can guess what happened from there.

Fourteen was such a sweet age. I had a new hobby every week. And every week it got ruined somehow. Maybe that’s why my interests as an adult were limited at best.

So when I was 18, I thought I could conquer the world, but all I did was smoke and drink since I had tried every kind of activity as a teenager and realised I would never be anyone.

What a dark age. All I did was wait for my life to be over. Sweet young me, so naive, so poetically sad.

Things got better eventually, they always do don’t they? Young adults are unusually miserable, I think that the fact that simple life ended and now they are responsible for everything in their life hits them like a train.

So at 25, I moved out of my mother’s house. A little late I admit, especially for those times. Everyone I went to school with was happily married and had three kids. But me? Sweet me was clueless. I had spent so much time drinking and smoking that I forgot that one day I’d have to get a life.

Turns out it wasn’t too late for me. And my story is grandchildren-telling-worthy for sure. The lettings agent that showed me my first house, Rick, ended up being my husband. And I moved out of my first house as soon as I got married because apparently, Rick made it sound so good because he needed his commission. I wasn’t upset at all, it was funny, even.

We only had two kids. He wanted more, but I valued my sanity. And I didn’t want kids to begin with but it was socially correct to do so.

That doesn’t mean I don’t love my kids. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. But if I could go back in time, I’d still be single.

Rick was so lovely, funny and all stereotypical good traits you can imagine. But the pain of seeing him die was too much for my little heart. He killed himself when our oldest daughter, Ellen, was just five years old. Depression, according to the prescription pills I found in his car’s glove compartment.

“Rick, I love you, but I will never forgive you” were the last words he heard come out of my mouth. Or maybe he didn’t? He could’ve been too far out at that point.

I needed him so much. And I was there to help him. But he never even mentioned his sorrow.

I’m being petty. Of course, I am. I should worry about his wellbeing rather than myself, but I wish I could’ve thought that way. I was always such a selfish person.

The kids were too young to understand. Ellen missed her father but happily believed it when I told her he was spending some time with grandma. Funny, that’s what my mother told me after my father left.

And Bella. Little sweet Bella. She was only a few months old. What did she know? She didn’t even miss him, and she doesn’t recognise him in pictures. Silly of me to expect her to.

This is so sad, it’s making me way too upset, I wonder if I’ll have to wait much longer. I’m so tired.

Speaking of tired, I was exhausted after Rick was gone. Two kids was hard work. Especially back then when I was supposed to be a stay-at-home mother whilst my husband provided. But that didn’t happen, did it?

I moved back in with my mother.

A 32-year-old woman living with her mother. Let that sink in, because it sure was difficult for me.

A few years after we moved, my mother died in her sleep. She was so young too, I think she died of loneliness. I wholeheartedly believe that is a thing.

As much as me and the kids were around, mother didn’t talk to anyone else, she didn’t have friends or even friendly neighbours. I miss her dearly.

I kept my mother’s house. It was as small as houses get, but I took her bedroom and the girls took my childhood attic-turned-bedroom. They loved it. They were always going on about how they would be the only survivors if a flood were to happen.

I wonder where they got their sense of humour.

Life was uneventful since then. I saw the kids grow up and move out one after the other. Surprisingly, Bella moved out first. I always expected the older one to be the first to leave, but can we even expect anything of life anymore?

Ellen stayed until she was 23 years old and we learned to dislike each other.

It’s ironic how I went through with my kids, what my mother went through with me.

What a lovely thing to relive all these memories and realise things we hadn’t before.

But I don’t want to talk about the past really. My wait is almost over and I still haven’t told you about my travel plans!

I want to go to Canada next year. I always have. It’s so cold and snowy there, and I love the cold. Even if the way I’m freezing now makes me want to change my mind about that.

I would like to spend some time in Canada and possibly visit some of the United States afterwards. Haven’t planned that far ahead but, it doesn’t matter does it? It’s not like I will actually do it. I’ve always enjoyed daydreaming and imagining all these scenarios that are unrealistic at best.

That’s what has kept me sane this entire time.

If you can call it sane. I’m not even conscious. However, my mind is intact.

I lived alone for way too many years after the kids left, and just like mother, I was lonely. I wasn’t lucky enough to die in my sleep like she was, and I grew tired of waiting. I tried to go as Rick did. But Rick was successful. He always was, he had a career, two beautiful little kids and a caring wife. What did I have? A dead husband, two adult offsprings, one of which forgot I existed, and the other who hated me for trying to raise her properly.

I, on the other hand, was a failure. I took as many pills as he did, but instead of being free from this life, I got trapped in it. I was put in a medically induced coma. The damage was too great to do anything. I heard talks about irreversible brain damage.

What do they know? My brain had never worked better. Shame I can’t wake up and tell them all to get lost because I can’t stand their voices anymore! Day in, day out. Office gossip, weepy relatives I haven’t seen, well, ever. Is this what happens when you die? Suddenly people care? Shouldn’t they care when you’re around instead? I swear people just like suffering. They wouldn’t be in my life when we could’ve had some good times. But now suddenly they want to come here and cry over someone they don’t even know.

I think it’s time. Finally.

Good thing I didn’t waste time planning any more trips. I’ve had enough of dreaming about things that will never happen.

Yes, it is time. I’m sure of it. I hear voices. They’re finally coming.

I have no idea how long I’ve been in a coma, I mean, it is to expect, right? I didn’t exactly have the chance to bring my watch or a calendar.

And just my luck that Ellen is in charge of the plug. I knew she’d pull it the first chance she got.

I can hear everything. She had a choice. To keep me here or to let me go.

Do I even blame her at this point? I know we weren’t on good terms, but she can’t possibly hate her mother enough to kill her.

But, to her, have I even been alive this entire time? She sees a lifeless body, day in and day out. Doctors tell her that my brain isn’t functioning, and I can’t prove otherwise.

She probably thinks she’s putting me out of my misery. But I’m not miserable at all, I like being here with my thoughts, and snooping on interesting conversations.

But they’re not always interesting, and people try to talk to me with the hopes I can hear less and less every day. I am getting lonely again.

I was lonely in life, and I’m lonely in “fake death”. I’m just happy I don’t have to be the one to end it this time.

I’ve come to accept it. I don’t know if I could adapt to life after this.

I couldn’t even adapt to life before this.

So I’m happy. And I can’t remember the last time I was happy.

The wait is finally over.

I will see Rick and mother again.

I can’t hear the voices anymore. Only the impossibly loud sound of the flatline.

What a beautiful sound, the last sound I’ll ever hear.

- Grace Humby

[aowanders-blog]

Coronavirus Lockdown Activities

There’s a world full of activities, but sometimes you’re just not in the mood to make a choice. Finding fun things to do when you’re bored can be torture, and this coronavirus lockdown isn’t too entertaining either.

   The first couple of days were heaven. No work. Free to sleep in. Enjoy a late breakfast. Clear the DVR of your favorite TV shows. Maybe even crack a mid-day beer without feeling guilty, but then it happened. 

You find yourself pacing between the kitchen and the living room. You’ve watched all the best travel movies on Netflix. If you have to binge-watch one more documentary or TV series, you’re going to puke!

Not even your phone can rescue you at this point, but you keep checking every 2 seconds, just to be sure.   Lists of dreamy travel activities and far off adventures keep coming up as you scour the internet for fun things to do when you’re bored.  

Are you going stir crazy at home because of this coronavirus pandemic? So am I, but I’m also taking full advantage of the situation. By tackling household projects, learning new skills, catching up on work, and exploring the vast outdoors.  You can too!

Be Productive With Your Down Time

There’s no shame in being bored!  It’s natural to feel antsy as the walls are closing in when there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do. If you’re struggling to keep yourself sane from boredom, take on a productive activity!

When I’m bored and looking for something to do, I narrow my focus down to three categories.

Productive

Entertaining

Practical

Doing this helps me find the perfect activity for when I’m bored and looking for something to do.  

An example for myself was creating a functional day planner that never needs to be refilled or reordered. It’s the perfect digital/day planner for bloggers and website owners.  

Monthly View

Daily View

Weekly View

Probably a complete yawnfest to you, but this project entertained me for a whole week. Plus, I learned a lot of new skills and gained a real sense of accomplishment.  All the distracting ingredients needed when you’re bored!

Finding fun things to do when you’re bored is personal, and sometimes you just gotta do what makes you happy!  Still, there has to be some practicality to your choices.

I would love to take a road trip right now or fly to some exotic paradise, but what would I do with the world on lockdown?  All the hotels, restaurants, and tour operations closed.  No destination has immunity from COVID-19.  Trust me, I’ve been scouring the internet for opportunities and solutions to our “travel problem.”

The fact of the matter is, discovering fun things to do when you’re bored is going to be more challenging today than it was yesterday!

Fun Coronavirus Activities to do When You’re Bored

Learn a new language for free thru this link

Landscape your yard

Cook a new recipe

Create a neighborhood scavenger hunt to learn your community

Go camping

Build a treehouse

Clean out your closet

Organize your computer

Did you know spring is the beginning of gold panning season

Take an online class to teach yourself how to brew your own beer, create websites, photography, potty train your dog, and so much more.

Apply for a REAL work-at-home job by following this link

Learn how to blow glass

Create pottery

Start Garden

Learn To Code Websites

Fix your car

Learn the world of podcasts

Help your neighbor

There are so many fun things to do when you’re bored, and right now is the perfect time to explore them all! 

I bet you didn’t you know you can access over 10,000 online classes for less than $10 a month thru this link.

The two biggest excuses I hear from everyone about not being able to travel, pursue a hobby, or learning a new skill are time and money. 

Instead of sitting at home being bored, pursue those hobbies you always wanted to.  Learn a new skill that will free you from the paycheck anchor you detest! 

More Fun Things to do When You’re Bored

Whether you’re stuck, home alone, or with the whole damn family cramped into a tiny RV, take advantage of the situation.  

Learn a new skill with access to thousands of online courses through Udemy.com or Skillshare.com.   Check out the world of photography at Kelby.com.  Learn to code for free Codeacademy.com.  Did you know Kahn University is entirely free, or choose from one of these  450 FREE Ivy league classes?

Fun Outdoor Things To Do When You’re Bored

Maybe online classrooms aren’t your thing, and you’d be more interested in outdoor adventures like cave diving or cliff wall camping. 

You might want to check out my popular 34 outdoor fun things to do when you’re bored article.

Which is a list of outdoor activities for kids, parents, and adventurous adults who are going stir-crazy.

When your bored, it’s a challenge to find fun things to do, but the trick is discovering new activities you can find enjoyment in.  They might start off as a one-off activity and turn into a weekly, monthly, or annual tradition among friends and family. 

Fun Virtual Activities To Do When You’re Bored

The other day I was invited to a virtual dinner party! Yes, you read that right.  Hanging out with friends on three continents while playing classic board games was a blast!!

I learned a new dinner recipe.  Discovered a new wine and even made a new friend.  Who called me out for cheating in Monopoly.  Which I was, but it was a fantastic night of entertaining memories I wouldn’t have even participated in pre-coronavirus.  

I’d never heard of a virtual dinner party, but not only was it a ton of fun. I also learned there’s a Facebook group that hosts a virtual karaoke party every Saturday.  

Embrace New Activities When You’re Bored

The world’s changing, and even though your usual “entertainment options” are closed to the public new ones are sprouting up in their place.  If you’re craving social interaction and still looking for fun things to do when you’re bored, explore virtual options among your friends and family.

Fun Activities Are Discovered Thru New Interests

Stop looking for fun things to do when you’re bored before you go bonkers and search for new activities that may interest you.

Rent an exotic car for a thrilling day of unique experiences.  Ever heard of waterfall hiking or zorbing?  

The world is filled with fun activities to do when you’re bored.  While you may not be able to go shopping, bar hopping or ziplining there are plenty of fun free outdoor things to do when you’re bored.  Last year alone, 330 million people visited America’s National Park system.  Now is the time to explore all that outdoor recreation has to offer!

New Hobbies Cure Boredom

The theme throughout this list of fun free things to do when you’re bored is to learn a new skill, pick up a new hobby or pursue activities you’ve been dreaming of for far too long.

At the end of this social distancing, self-quarantining, and possible martial law lockdown here in the United States.  Do you want to be able to say you were productive or just killed time? 

Do you want to be proud of yourself for learning a new skill or taking on a new hobby? Do you want to be able to brag about new adventures, or simply just recap TV shows when this is all over with your friends & family? 

Take the time now to pursue a new hobby like glass blowing, pottery, or whatever you’ve been dreaming of for far too long. 

CHEAP Fun Things To Do When You’re Bored Coronavirus Lockdown Activities There’s a world full of activities, but sometimes you’re just not in the mood to make a choice.

[the-wolfs-raven]

♌: what’s your family like?♍: other blogs?♎: would you date your muse?♏: would you and your muse be friends?♐: 3 things that scare you

♌: what’s your family like?

Ooh.  Boy.  Well, my dad’s pretty chill.  He was a hippy and all that.  Did a LOT of drugs in his time (which I didn’t learn about til this year.  Go figure.).  Got a bit of casual racism stuck in his humor, but he doesn’t mean any ill-will to anyone.  He’s a good guy overall.

My mother and her family, though.  Damn.  Like.  I’ve never met anyone so hateful and paranoid about the world.  Grandma turned me into a fundamentalist Christian psycho in elementary school (thankfully that got nipped in the bud in middle school).  Ma always said she’d disown us if we were gay (then did a complete 180 when my brother came out).  They’ve mellowed a bit with time, but now Grandma has Alzheimer's and is a complete psycho nut again.  Also, again with the casual racism, but they’re far more serious about it.  Typical MAGA folk.

So woo for breaking the hate cycle, I guess?

♍: other blogs?

Loads.  

@thepalewolfhowls is Tara’s daughter, Taria Fletcher.  My little lore bender.  Very angry daughter of Lo’Gosh with a fondness for orcs and punching people.  She has her own daughter now, Accalia, and a sort-of mate, Grok’tor Ironbite, a grizzled war veteran.  Taria underwent chronomantic aging to make her an adult (partially because I fucked up my timelines.  Partially because a child is an inconvenient agent and adult Taria can break so many more skulls).  She would have been around 7 years old if not for the aging, but she is fully an adult, physically, mentally, and emotionally (though her step-father may argue the latter.  lol)

@bluewolfcaravan is Tara’s trading and shop ventures.  Lots of fun stuff there when I’m not too dead to run them.  

@the-white-lioness is Ishtara Lionstar.  A Night Elf whore who originally turned Tara down the path of owning her sexuality.  She and her lions are all named for Assyrian (Mesopotamian, whatever) figures since its a good chunk of my heritage.  Lovely lion whore, basically.  

@wordhobbies is Necrocia Witherwing aka Twitchy formerly known as Sentinel Lyralel Dawnwhisper.  After a traumatic blow to the head, the elf became completely unhinged, putting herself in dangerous situations and stitching herself back together.  Though she’s never technically died, you wouldn’t know it from looking at her.  She also has...Hobbies.  Lots of hobbies.  “I asked myself, why should a murloc only have two eyes?  Why not ten?  Or TWENTY THREE?!”  …ehem…Her fascination with hobbies was actually pulled from an eccentric character from a children’s cartoon (Grandpapa Thistle from Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom).  Occasionally, she has short periods of sanity where her hair returns to its normal state and she becomes terrified of everything that’s happened to her.  Twitchy is almost emaciated and has various scribbles, scars, tattoos, etc all over her body from just...various things.  Sometimes she needs to remember something and she’ll literally just ink it into her skin.  If she can’t find something to tattoo herself with, she’ll just carve it on.  She’s extremely difficult to play for a long period of time because she just requires SO much energy.

@obscure-snowdrop is my little Shadow Whisperer bookworm who I made specifically to join the Crows.  She began hearing whispers at a young age and they keep her relatively sane despite her horrific life.  If wards or any such thing silence the whispers, she goes into a fit as everything that has worn on her over time coalesces in one fell swoop.

@snaythes These were my spook family from many fandoms back.  They are hemomancers of sorts with various quirks.  The eldest brother builds furniture from human parts.  One brother is a butcher who specializes in cannibalistic delicacies.  One brother, who had his heart broken, incorporates unused bodies into their home’s décor.  His ex-fiancée currently serves as a chandelier in the living room (I realize the irony).  The only sister is a painter who works with macabre and lascivious subjects.  She and the eldest brother have an...unconventional relationship.  The youngest brother is the most tame, and doesn’t really share his family’s penchant for violence and murder.

@korbintavernack aka Nix is a Blacktalon agent who worked closely with Taria in the past.  He’s a brawler and a magebreaker with enough wards to silence any magical activity in a 20 foot radius around himself.  He’s also responsible for the warding on Taria’s mind making her resistant to mental attacks and manipulation.

@theunkindness is an organization of (traditionally only Kaldorei) assassins and thieves who take morally upright contracts overall (killing bad folk like slavers, abusers, etc).  Tara is a part of the Unkindness and still communicates with several of her old contacts.

@winterscalesheir is the original Warhammer 40k Tarvasha.  She is the complete opposite of WoW Tara and I have no idea how it happened.  The bastard daughter of Rogue Trader Calligos Winterscale, she’s determined to find the Baleful eye of Sebastian Winterscale and cement herself among her father’s bloodline.

♎: would you date your muse?

I mean, if I had to date someone, Tara would be a pretty high reach for me.  I think I’d feel way too inferior to actually date someone like her, though I’d shower the poor girl with affection.  We’d probably try to outdo each other in gift-giving and kind gestures.  However, Tara is more heteroromantic, as am I, so even given the chance, it probably wouldn’t work.  lol

♏: would you and your muse be friends?

I think we’d make decent friends.  I don’t like the upkeep that comes with friendships and Tara tends to disappear a lot, so I think that would work out just fine in the end.

♐: 3 things that scare you 

Someone breaking into my house.  Seems kinda specific, but here’s the thing:  I have a shit fight or flight response, even when my kids are involved (I once left them in the backyard as I was running away from a wasp).  This is partially due to the fact that I was terrified of SIDS, so I didn’t allow myself to bond with my kids when they were born.  A lot of people I know are like “Yeah, I’d bust someone’s ass if they ever tried to touch my kids” but honestly, I feel like I’d probably run like a bitch and hate myself forever for it.  But who knows?  Maybe I’d pick up a floor lamp and fucking wreck someone’s day?  I’d rather not find out one way or the other.

Losing my technology.  I live through screens.  All of my memories are contained in my tech and on the web.  I’m terrified that I’d lose those things.  I’ve already had a phone run over and lost all of my children’s baby photos and videos.  I have very little memory of those times, so losing that was pretty heartbreaking for me.

Apocalypse.  Any sort of end-of-the-world bullshit where you’ve gotta figure out how to survive.  A lot of my friends have bug out bags and everything else but my oldest is a Type 1 diabetic.  If the places producing insulin suddenly stop, I have no way to keep my daughter alive.  It’ll be cyanide pills for the lot of us.

Thanks for the ask @latildarommel!  Sorry it got so heart-wrenching at the end.  lol

[hecticquarter-blog]

Roberto Reyes

Introduction

                 Roberto Reyes is a venue manager at a creative youth center in Downtown Albuquerque named Warehouse 508. 508 caters to youth 6-20 and provides classes for various art forms and hobbies, is a working indoor skatepark, has a screen-printing facility, a music studio for recording, and a stage for performances. Roberto Reyes has been a student, instructor, and now manager of 508. Reyes has a background in photography, mural arts, screen-printing, and digital design. As an active member of the community, Reyes works with youth at 508 to help build their art-form and performance skills. This interview discusses his personal experiences with working at a venue, as well as his perspectives on some of the issues happening in the community and country.

Interview

What is your name? - Roberto Reyes

What is your job description? - Venue manager. I’m in charge of the facilities at Warehouse 508, booking shows, making sure classes are ready for instruction, and making sure all youth at 508 are safe and sound.

What is your favorite part of your job? - Working with youth and seeing them accomplish their dreams and learning new skills or hanging out here. I love seeing them.

When you were younger what was your dream job? - I wanted to be a doctor when I was really little (like Kindergarten).

What changed your mind? - Seeing new possibilities and discovering other ways to help people. At one point I wanted to be a comedian and then another time until now I just wanted to be a full time artist.

What kind of art do you do? - I paint murals and do graphic design, photography, screen-printing. (Pictured with a mural Reyes worked on)

How does your background play a role in your job today? - It comes from very alternative field of employment and I think when youth want to pursue an art career, you know, i.e being music or photography any of those you need have a really good idea and to be very versatile at your art work so that you know you can make a living off of it because you know you won’t be a Rockstar or superstar at it but you can still run sound, still do lighting, still be a tour manager. Opening the door for different possibilities and opening the door when it comes to art and music.

What classes offered at Warehouse 508 are your favorite? - Let’s see, I really enjoy mural arts of course, that’s what I started doing here, I was a student and then I became an instructor, I have a really important place in my heart for that class because it’s very open and a lot of youth kind of can learn a lot from it from critical thinking to learning how to use a spray can to learning the history of art and mural painting, even hip-hop history as well.

What do you like to see most in stage performances? - I like to see the appreciation of your crowd and I like when the artist speaks to their crowd a little bit and feeds off the vibe of the crowd

What’s the difference that you see in the youth that come out of Warehouse 508 and are successful with their art-form compared to those who are not? -  Some of them are extremely driven and what I found here is that they’re really true to themselves. They don’t falter to what their message is and they whole heartedly believe in it. I think that’s the important message of Albuquerque and New Mexico because we are so isolated. They’re not trying to be the next rapper the next big rapper, they have the space to be who they are, their own musician, they don’t have a preset notion of what is good and what is bad. It’s harder to be an actual musician and to “blow up” from a place like Albuquerque.

What do you see brings in the most people to shows? – From what I’ve seen, building an audience that can follow you, of course there is social media but the best bet is live interaction and shows. People don’t realize here that the best is diversity, rap and rock groups coming together makes cross pollinating. Have a edm dj with a singer song writer and maybe an emcee or whatever but I think it the best to have cross pollination of crows because everyone here likes everything and if they do I don’t see them being not open to other genres of music.

What hip hop artists are your favorites?- As far as top five rappers I think Rappers- The Roots are number one, so black thought is number one spot. Then it’ll be probably like Nas, Kendrick Lamar, Calle13 they’re a perutorican rap group, and Lauren Hill and I think she should’ve been higher haha.

Which of the four pillars of hip-hop is your favorite? - Um I would say graph-writing, it’s called writing in the hip-hop community. Graffiti is something used to remind of us vandalism. Like how breakdancing is the mainstream term but we like to call it B-boying within the hip-hop community. Rappers is the mainstream names but it’s actually emceeing.

What do you see that holds kids back the most? - A variety of things, but the most is just self-doubt and not willing to make mistakes or screw up and honestly I would rather screw up in a painting than I would in real life so screw up as much as you want, then fix it.

Advice you would tell your fifteen-year-old self? - It’s funny because I did tell myself that, What I told myself is that I shouldn't play stuff football, I shouldn’t play varsity ball and I should focus on what I love and not something I don't have any love in, which wasn’t football, it wasn’t fun anymore and painting was way funnier and I saw the potential of it taking me way father than football could, which was true.

What do you think people can do as citizens to help the community in the state that it’s in right now? - I think it has a lot to do with people’s perspectives and seeing other peoples’ point of view even if it’s an opposing one; they’re being heard and looking back at how they were brought up so you can know where those kinds of thinking or thoughts stem from so you can better analyze them why they think that way. It kind humanizes a person, those thoughts they come from a specific place so you can then deconstruct their argument and help change their mind.

A lot of people coming out of high school complain about “adulting” how do you cope/ what grounds you? - First worlding as it’s called, haha. I think it’s the arts in general like could be music, visual arts, could be simply riding my bike that is most important and growing up finding out your outlets and finding a way for you to find a way to deal with really stressful situations that isn’t harmful to you because you know a lot of people turn to alcohol or drugs or self-inflicting wounds and stuff like that and youth need a way to deal with that because once you figure those things out as an adult, I’m not saying it’ll be easy but it’ll easier with positive coping mechanisms.

As an artist do you go through dry spells and how do they make you feel? - I’m actually in one right now. Honestly, I haven’t drawn anything or done anything creative for maybe the past year so because my main focus last year was to buy a home which happened in October of last year and now it’s still put me in a rut and I’m still trying to get out of it. What I need to focus on is my health so I can have energy and want to do things I want to do. Also creating a space where I can create and not just fall asleep- separating that space for creative work.

What would you tell youth that are stuck between pursuing a more conventional living and being an artist? - I think that it’s hard. That was my choice when I was younger, like become an architect and make money or do what I love as an artist and be happy and not live really well kind of scavenge, but it just depends on your position. It would be nice to say yeah go be an artist but it’s not that easy you got to get by, you might need a part time job or a full-time job to get a roof over your head but never lose your interest in the arts because that’s what makes you happy. Remember why you do it, not because you get paid for it.

At what point should a young person feel comfortable abandoning college for the sake of having enough time for other things like art or work? - Honestly- school is always going to be there, it’s not like it’s gonna go anywhere. The classes you took are still going to follow you, so you can always go back to it. Of course, the difficulty would be then paying for school, that’s always going to be there. For my personal case, it was my parents divorcing so I had to quit school completely and get a job and fend for myself or else I’d be couch surfing for a couple years while I finished school which I didn’t want to happen. I also had to make sure my mom had to a place to stay. Make the best decision with the information you have at the time. As an artist, you will benefit more than to not go to school to actually experience things rather than just reading from a book. I think when it comes to art, that’s always the situation like I’m not going to go get a Bachelor’s degree in studio arts because I’d rather just go do it than be taught from a school. And maybe it’s not bad, go to school for studio arts for a little bit, but then you learn what you needed from it and use it, actually implement it. And you always have to make that space for yourself to make art so it’s better to keep that in mind. Like my sister was a really good artist and unfortunately had a kid at a young age and that forced her to go to school and become a nurse and which now she has accomplished that as a nurse, has a great position, but you know but no longer has that in her life as drawing goes and I think she could be better off if she still had that in her life as far as her mental health and being sane I guess haha.

How do you suggest people have tolerance in the hate-filled world we live in today? - Tolerance is only to a certain extent, like I don’t want to be absolutist either because I think once someone’s ideals become actions that actually hurt people, that’s when you have to react. It’s easier to be tolerant to ideas than actually actions because they’re just inside their head. It’s not until it becomes actions when that tolerance crap goes out the window. And it’s hard, you want to be peaceful and you want to be understanding but it’s only to a certain extent.

Do you think people have the right to get violent in protesting? - Well I think when it comes to the destruction of property it depends on what the message is because whatever they’re combatting like white supremacy, has caused way more damage to actual human beings than to property. So, when people protested when Trump came here, it’s like yeah but the hatred that he was spewing at his rallies is much more hurtful than a broken window. A few burnt trashcans and a few broken windows compared to a candidate for president that’s calling for the abolishment of Mexicans and no Muslims in the country? That’s just to me insane so yeah it just depends on what the message is. Like when it comes to punching a nazi, like their deliberate existence is the eradication or genocide of an entire people so it’s like how could you be okay with that?

[theangelandthejerk]

7/5/2017

i’ve made a lot of posts today.

and this likely will not be my last in the next short while.

but i have a different approach right now.

conversations with your parents have the tendency to bring things in to perspective.

even if they’re no longer a part of your every day life and don’t see the intricacies of it, the fact is, they’re still the people who raised you for the past twenty four years. they know me in a way that no one else ever will.

we don’t agree on everything. their life is centered around god. mine is centered around the pursuit of happiness. and honestly, in the end, i really feel like those two things are the same. different concepts, same idea.

but that’s not what i’m here to talk about.

i need to talk about me.

the person i am, the person i was, and the person that i want to be.

their main point tonight was, “this is the best thing that could have happened to you right now. because no matter what happens from here, things are going to be better than they were before. if you get back together, it will be because you come to an understanding that things need to change and you need to find a way to work together. but if this is the end, it’s one door closed and another opened to your career, your education, and your future.”

i am not the person that i want to be. i am selfish, i am lazy, and i have no confidence in myself or in the people around me.

my anxiety controls my life.

i live a sedentary life in a dirty apartment with people who are basically strangers to me. him included.

because the fact is, we’re both going through changes. we’re not the people we were two years ago. it’s easy to forget that there is a huge difference between being 21 & 22, and being 23 & 24. we’ve come into the adult world, whether we were ready for it or not.

and he’s right. he is more mature than me. he has more life experience, and more common sense. i am not afraid to admit that.

but the fact remains

ali erickson, you are a strong, independent woman, and you know how to take care of yourself. you know that what you are doing now is not living. you are existing. you are breathing and eating, but there is no life in your soul.

you need to find that life.

you need to find that woman he fell in love with,

not for him,

but for yourself.

and from that base, you will build into the person you want to be.

two years ago, i had confidence. i knew i was skinny and cute, i knew i had a stable job, i knew i had a vehicle with four intact wheels.

you lost that and damn near everything else somewhere along the way.

but guess what? you’ve got two of those things back. with a job that pays well, and four brand new shiny tires, what can keep you down?

i am still in pain. my soul is still aching and all i want to do is pick up that phone.

but staying strong is so important right now.

does he want the pathetic shell of a person you were on the night of july fourth? or does he want the woman he fell in love with?

be that person. find her. she’s still there, somewhere inside of you.

and maybe, if fate is kind, you’ll be given the chance to help him on the way to finding kyle again, too.

i need to write down some short term goals. these are what will keep me sane through this transition. and if this thing doesn’t work out, well... there will be tears. there will be dangerous thoughts. there will be desperation and anger and emotions that i’m terrified to even fathom right now.

but i will have this to fall back on.

your life is not over.

it is beginning again.

wake up for work this week. drive the hour that it will take, no matter how tired you are or how frustrating traffic is.

stay at work. it is boring and it is draining. people suck. but look: you are making $14 an hour. every hour you work is a full meal earned on your paycheck. every $100 extra you have on that check for sticking it out brings you closer to paying off that debt. every dollar taken off that debt gets you a step closer to getting out of this state.

read the books that your dad gave to you. if they’re dumb, if they don’t help... it doesn’t matter. look at all the things he’s given to you. you owe him this. and you know you’re happy to do it, even if you forget that somewhere around chapter thirty two.

talk to your friends. snidget is your lifeboat. and even though it hurts to know they’re just out of reach and having fun without you, reach out to sam and alyssa, too. look at what they did for you today. read those messages. they care about you so much, and they have not forgotten about you. you’re their best friend. you matter. and you’ll see them again soon.

no matter where you end up, have more conversations with your parents. let them into your life. they may have some outdated views, but they are wise, and they love you. it’s so obvious they just want you to succeed.

it doesn’t have to be this week, but it has to be the next two or so months: go talk to a college counselor. it’s not as scary as you’ve built it up to be. their job is to guide and educate. you will be fine. put on that sassy confident face. maybe you’ll even get some financial aid out of it.

play your damn video games. allow yourself to enjoy that hobby again instead of staying on your phone. relaxation after work is one thing; full on laziness is another. force yourself to move. i promise it will be worth it.

read a book. you’ve got that list, so pick it up and go find those books. you owe it to your brain. you owe it to yourself to try to get back some semblance of an attention span.

be more clean. you know organization makes you happy, so just do it. if you return to that apartment, it will never look the way you’ve allowed it to in the past. even if you don’t have help, do it for yourself. and do it for him. be a good girlfriend. learn to cook something, make him dinner, even if it tastes a little funny. he deserves that and so much more.

if he doesn’t text you tomorrow, stay strong. put down the messenger app. don’t tackle him at work, you crazy idiot. you love him, and he loves you, but this is unhealthy. the first step to healing is letting him have the space he needs.

i love this relationship, and being forced to explain that and your part in it in full detail is bringing things out of you that you’ve forgotten.

i love being alive.

i love the privilege that i have, being from a family with two stable feet on the ground.

i love the rain and the smell of a warm meal and sunsets and people hugging and taking walks with the dog and game of thrones night and dragon age and harry potter and my pets and my best friends and my parents and my sisters and my grandmother and him no matter what.

so stop letting yourself exist like this.

you control your own life, and you know what you want.

you can show him all this and more.

and you can pray that it’s enough.

but even if it isn’t,

please stay strong.

you can do this.