#the crunchy sound of the map opening

[goldensunset]

‘the children yearn for the mines’ is a little too real to me bc when i was a kid and my older siblings were trying to get me into pokémon i really never cared to try playing. BUT. i was obsessed with the underground mining minigame in dppt. i used to beg my sister to let me take a turn playing and set it up for me bc i didn’t know how to so i could go mine for gems nonstop until i cleared that entire cave section of glittering wall spots which always made me so sad bc i was having such a great time. i didn’t even understand the significance of what i was doing but 7 year old me was high off of it

[elleloquently]

invisible string : ellie williams

| college!ellie au <3 depending on the feedback and if this is well received/people are interested enough, i would really love to make this a series! i usually just do drabbles and headcanons so this is a little different but i'm really excited about it, hopefully you'll all be excited too!! please let me know if this is worth continuing aaah i have a plot mapped out so more parts?? i am so excited to be actively writing on tumblr again and i just wanted to say hi and thank u to all of my new followers from the past few days!!

| c/w- reader has anxious thoughts

the transition from fall to winter was abrupt;

one morning you open your eyes and the crunchy, orange leaves have curled and gone brown. swirls of chilled air and frozen rain threaten to turn into snow which replaces the brightly colored leaves that once danced and twirled their way from the trees to the ground.

the transition from fall to winter means final exams, impending doom, and a great loss of sleep.

by the way you rushed to class, anyone passing by would've assumed you were running extremely late. however, it was quite the opposite. you needed to be exactly twenty minutes early. twenty minutes early to fix any hair that would've been knotted by the wind, and twenty minutes early to secure a seat that was a perfect distance from the pretty girl with auburn hair that was in your class.

finals season led to the lecture halls being crowded of students who hadn't previously attended class on a regular schedule, and you refused to once again lose the seat that you have been using all semester.

the sound of your shoes echoed through the silent hallway. In a flurry you were pulling your phone out of your pocket, pulling your bag higher on your shoulder and adjusting the bottom of your sweater. you heaved open the classroom door without a moment of checking your surroundings, which caused you to freeze instantly when you caught sight of the auburn girl sitting next to your seat.

the heavy door swung to a loud closing, causing you to outwardly flinch as the girl quickly looked up. the sudden eye contact made you cringe, but it was over as quickly as it happened as she turned back to slouching over her notebook.

in a moment of internal panic, you busied yourself with your bag as you fought with yourself over what to do next. the classroom was nearly empty, would she think you were a freak for sitting directly next to her? on the other hand, you had been sitting in that seat for the entire semester, surely she knew that? then again, she most likely wasn't paying attention to you in the way that you had been paying attention to her...

after a moment of hesitation, you swallowed your pride and slid into your seat with burning cheeks. you were nearly certain her name was ellie, but hadn't managed the courage to speak to her yet and the semester was nearing a close.

ellie was someone who instantly caught your eye. you wanted to be her friend, but never worked up the nerve to start a conversation. you noticed her a lot though, maybe more than you should. admittedly, on the days you have been tempted to skip class, you ended up attending simply due to one reason.

she was funny, you could tell by the way she interacted with other people in the class. and she was pretty. so pretty, in fact, you hadn't wanted to sit directly next to her because it was simply too daunting.

but now here you are.

a hole could've burned through your notebook because of how hard you were staring at it, feeling completely unsure of what to do with your body. sitting next to her made you feel frozen, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so pathetic over someone you didn't even really know.

out of the corner of your eye, you could see ellie twirling a pen through her fingers. you caught sight of her tattoo and thought your gaze might've lingered a little too long because the girl next to you suddenly sighed loudly, causing you to jump and refocus your gaze to your notes.

"alright, scale of one to ten, how fucked do you think you are for the final? I think I'm standing at a solid..six? maybe?"

heart thumping, you turned to meet ellie's gaze. she was staring at you with her eyebrows pinched together, but still had a small smile hanging off of her lips.

"same," you released with a nervous laugh, quickly frowning at your lack of response. you try to will yourself to think of something witty, ultimately failing but ellie smiles anyway.

her change of expression encourages you and you manage to spit something out without overthinking it.

"I really want to be more positive, but I'm horrible at taking tests. like, really horrible. It doesn't matter how much I study or if I love the material... I'm like, done for."

ellie nods and the conversation is short lived, but you're buzzing well throughout class. she doodles on her note pages and pieces of hair fall from her low bun to frame her face. you steal only a couple glances, using all of your power to focus on the professor and not the girl sat next to you.

in your determination to not let your eyes linger, you're completely unaware of Ellie's gaze. she notices your notes, detailed and organized, and the slight frown on your face as you scramble to make adjustments while the professor reviews information.

it's a miracle you're able to focus and class ends ten minutes early, a rarity yet well appreciated. you're trying to decide if you should get another word in with ellie while you're packing up, and she makes it easy on you.

"hey, are you doing that whole study group thing?" ellie askes suddenly, her tone growing in confidence as her sentence finishes.

sliding your notes into your bag, you pretend to think it over. in reality, you never considered the option. the idea of meeting up with people you didn't really know in an attempt to teach other class material sounded like an anxiety nightmare.

"I don't really know," you admit. "are you?"

ellie shrugs, nearly hesitating for a moment before standing and straightening her posture. she carried herself well, you noticed, fighting a burning in your face as you stood awkwardly after her.

ellie didn't verbally answer and her original asking left you curious, but you had homework due soon and no time to delay. after a rushed and mumbled parting, you left the class as quickly as you could without seeming as if you were running away from ellie herself.

the late november air was as unforgiving as the nagging thoughts in your head about a silly study group that you previously had no interest in. you were certain that you were reading way too into things... ellie had only asked a simple question and she surely wasn't going to lose sleep over it.

regardless, you found yourself double checking the date and time that the study group was supposed to meet, and making sure of your availability... just in case.

[ part two ]

[abira-tome-blog]

examples of portal having unnecessarily crunchy physics:

- If you put an object inside a door and then close the door, the door jams and gets stuck open. This is never supposed to happen in game and can actually cause significant problems.

- There is a fizzler gate before the elevator at the end of each level that disintegrates any items you bring through it to prevent you from bringing objects through levels. If you bypass this fizzler with a glitch and bring an object into the elevator, the game will save that object and load it into the next map for you. This is never supposed to happen.

- The developers spent a not insignificant time trying to get the elevators in each level to actually move upwards when you get in them. The elevators are completely opaque. It did not occur to them that they could just keep the elevator stationary and play the sound+shake animation before loading the next map until they had already finished the game.

In Portal 2 they made the elevators transparent.

[wrenseyeview]

Gotta ramble a bit about Dredge because it's got that Good Game Design.

For one thing I saw it classified as a horror game, but it also felt fundamentally at odds with my (very limited) experience of horror as a genre? Primarily, that it kept control very squarely in the player's hands, including control of pacing and encounters. I mean honestly that's rare enough in a lot of games generally, but I'd probably most categorize Dredge as a creepy-themed puzzle game more than anything else, and not just for the cargo/fishing mechanics. The entire game is very deliberately structured so the only time pressure is solving how far you can go in a single day cycle and ideally making sure you end the day on the same square as the fishmonger or merchant (or not having fish in your cargo that day). You get a heads up that the night is when the scary shit happens and your main four zones are where some big bad lives and if you observe their patterns and ask the locals, even those don't tend to jump scare you? Fundamentally the game feels surprisingly and entirely safe, which is not the vibe I would classify as horror.

The fishing/dredging mechanic is a very solid foundation and has some nice little variety to it, just a good timing test to break up the more mystery and exploration sections. Good visual interest, crunchy sound, just very good detail focus on the design.

I think I only looked up two things during the entire game (where the last stone tablet was, and how to find the catfish), which is also astonishingly rare for pretty much any game nowadays that I'm getting at least mostly completionist on. The low-hanging comparisons are pulling up an icon map to find all the damn korok seeds, but even say, Fenyx Rising - I had to look up how to catch and ride a horse because some specific input just wasn't intuitive. Dredge did a very good job at not using text heavy tutorials for game functions and still very clearly and easily getting the point across. In large part by gating progress in a way that allows the player full access to the game's entire core mechanics from very nearly the beginning, and offers clear ways to progress further that don't feel too much like grinding given the available space to explore. To look back at those examples, BOTW/TOTK and Fenyx all lock very basic movement mechanics (among lots of other skills) behind lengthy tutorial areas. It's genuinely difficult to open up the entire core gameplay from the start and not have players feel overwhelmed, and I don't think Dredge accomplished such a thing by just being simpler (I wouldn't necessarily say that it is much simpler either, just... economical about it's constituent parts?)

Good map density too, in terms of fish locations and populating the in-between islands with things to discover and revisit. BOTW (lesser extent in TOTK but still there) and AC Valhalla both suffer from having maps a little too big for their contents in places, just in terms of how far you can run across barren fields between fixed map markers with nothing else to really do except maybe collect a few low-level creature loot bits if you're lucky. Even when I'm crossing the map with purpose in Dredge, there's still nice opportunities to get distracted and find more stuff that's going to be useful, though not at such density that it's no longer interesting to find the specific things I need.

[tofueggnoodles]

Extreme Bath Log Disk 1 – Track 3: Genjo Family’s Evening

Click here to listen to the track on youtube.

Click here for translations of previous tracks.

Summary: Goku spent the evening playing video games with his friends from school, Tokito and Saito. Kubota arrived to fetch Tokito home and deliver a piece of news from the neighborhood association. The Genjo family discussed their participation in a local event meant to both celebrate Tanabata and revive the shopping district.

--------

(Music playing in the background. Someone knocks at the door.)

Goku (munching on something crunchy): Yes?

Saito: Excuse me! (slides the door open)

Goku: Oh, Mikawaya-chan!

Tokito: You came just at the right time, Sabu-chan!

Saito: I’m neither Mikawaya nor Sabu-chan! I’m Saito, the seventeen-year old handsome heir of Saito Liquor Store, Saito Kazuo!

Tokito: It’s probably because Mikawaya or Sabu-chan is a more likely name for a deliveryman for a liquor store [that we keep calling your those].

Goku: What is it, Saito? Are you done with work for today already?

Saito: When I arrived at the Genjo residence for my last delivery, I heard that you guys were hanging out on the second floor. I thought I’d come up and say hi. Oh! Isn’t this a new title from MGS? [MGS: Metal Gear Solid - thanks @hokuton-punch !]

Tokito: Have you gotten through this one too?

Saito: I’m in the midst of collecting the trophies. This is the second week.

Goku: Seriously? That’s just like you. Ah, how do I get past this field?

Saito: Okay, could you please call up the map?

Goku: Right.

(The gaming console emits a beep as he calls up the map.)

Saito: Here and here, there are some mercenaries standing guard. This here is the shortest route, but it’s easier to advance by taking a longer path and take down the enemies one by one in close quarters combat.

Tokito: See? That’s exactly what I said.

Goku: Eh? But I’m bad at taking cautious actions, even in video games.... Ah, I'll just give it a pass!

Tokito: Eh? Do I have to be the one to play through this part again? Also, I’ve told you not to touch the controller while eating potato chips, Goku. It’s sticky all over!

Goku: I don’t mind since it’s my controller. By the way, since Saito’s here, let’s play Bomberman or Marica. [https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/VideoGame/MaricaShinjitsuNoSekai]

Saito: Whichever game it is, I accept the challenge!

Tokito: Oh, you’re sure raring to go, Mikawaya!

Saito: It’s Saito!

--------

(Sounds of insects chirping.)

Goku (from upstairs): Ah! Who left a banana here?

Tokito: It was you.

Saito: I’ll go ahead of you guys, okay?

(Goku groans in frustration.)

Hakkai: Whenever Saito-kun joins in, it gets even livelier than usual. I hope they’re not disturbing Tenpou at his work.

Sanzo (slurps noisily at his tea): It’s a regular occurrence. He’s probably used to it after living here for many years.

(The doorbell chimes.)

Hakkai: Coming! Who is it?

Kubota: Hello. I’m from Kubota Laundry.

Hakkai (slides the door open): Ah, good evening Kubota-san.

Kubota: First of all, I’m here to hand these over: the empty food containers** and Mr. Genjo’s laundered clothes. [Kubota, Tokito and Tenpou address Sanzo as go-inkyo, lit. Mister Retiree, which does not sound as reverential as go-inkyo, so I decided to go with ‘Mr. Genjo.’]

Hakkai: Sorry for having you come here just to deliver them. I could’ve gone over to your place to retrieve them myself.

Kubota: It’s no trouble. I’m passing around these bulletins from the neighborhood association anyway, so I took the opportunity to stop by.

Hakkai: I appreciate your efforts. Tokito-kun’s upstairs, you know.

Kubota: Thanks for having him – he’s always visiting you. I hope he’s not too much of a nuisance. I’m also here to fetch him home. Tokito, it’s time to leave.

Tokito (from upstairs): Okay! Gimme a minute!

Hakkai: That’s right – the homepage that Tokito-kun made for us is amazingly popular. Sorry for having him do this without compensation.

Kubota: We’re in your debt too. The macaroni salad was very delicious. Those piquant black peppers really go well with beer. The two of us polished it off in an instant.

Hakkai: I’m glad to hear that. The salad is also popular among the members of this household.

(A door slides open upstairs.)

Goku: See you tomorrow.

Tokito: Yeah. (runs down the stairs) Sorry for the wait, Kubo-chan.

Kubota: We’ll be taking our leave then, Genjo-san,.

Tokito: See you!

Hakkai: Good night. (closes the door)

Hakkai (to himself): Genjo-san, eh? At any rate, ‘Genjo Hakkai’ sounds considerably pretentious as a name. Well, at least it’s far from being as odd-sounding as ‘Genjo Gojyo.’

--------

(Gojyo sneezes. In the background, there are sounds of water being splashed and dribbling down the floor.)

Gojyo: Really. Why are all the customers middle-aged men and old geezers whenever it’s my turn to man the attendant’s booth? Even if the changing room is not visible from here, at least the sight of some beautiful women in after-bath yukata would cheer me up. [yukata: light cotton kimono worn in the summer or used as a bathrobe]

(A bell rings as the door slides open.)

Gojyo: Ah, welcome– oh, it’s just the old man from the grocery store.

Old man: So the eldest son’s manning the attendant's booth today. Looks like you’ve been putting in a decent amount of work recently. Here’s the key for safekeeping. (walks away after putting the key to his locker on the counter)

Gojyo: What a let down.

--------

Goku: Ah, it’s hot! A cold drink of milk is best after a bath! Eh? Are you going out, Gojyo?

Gojyo: After a full day of working, I now have to leave for my part-time job. (yawns)

Sanzo: Those were all easy stuff, so don’t let them get the best of you.

Hakkai: Ah, since everyone’s gathered here, could I have a bit of you time? There’s something I’d like to consult you regarding the bathhouse.

Goku: Consult?

Sanzo: Did something happen?

Hakkai: No, it’s not that. A short while ago, bulletins announcing the outcome of the neighborhood association meeting has been circulated. Here’s our copy. (places a piece of paper on the table)

Gojyo: Mmm, what’s this? ‘Araiso Shopping District?’

Sanzo (reads from the bulletin): ‘Tanabata Festival: Decision on the Event to Hold?’ [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanabata]

Goku: Eh, so they’re going to organize a festival.

Hakkai: Even though they say it’s a festival, rather than food stalls at the temple or all-night folk dances, apparently the event they’re going to hold is a three-day stamp rally throughout the shopping district. [https://en.japantravel.com/guide/introduction-to-stamp-rallies/46627]

Gojyo: What’s that?

Hakkai: Ever since a large-scale shopping center opened in front of the train station, the businesses in this shopping district have been having a tough time in various ways. They’ve been talking for a while about holding such a community-based event to earnestly promote the shopping district and regain the customers.

Goku: Let me see.... (reads from the bulletin) ‘During the three days of the event, each shop in the shopping district is to provide the customers with original free services or freebies associated with Tanabata.’

Sanzo (continues reading): ‘Regarding items associated with Tanabata, foodstuffs, novelty mahjong score sheets **, games or events – anything is fine.’ Hah. That’s an awfully sloppy description.

Hakkai: That’s because the chairperson of the neighborhood association is fairly sloppy person herself.

Goku: The chairperson is that person, right? Granny Sharak, grandpa’s senior who runs the long-established Japanese-style confectionery store?

Gojyo: If you call her Granny to her face, you’ll get a hundred energetic lashes from that wild old woman.

Hakkai: Our bathhouse is quite a long-established business among the shops in this shopping district, so we’ll have to participate in this event. Father can’t afford to make Sharak-san lose face as well.

Sanzo: That woman’s harshly made me accompany her on her rounds of heavy drinking since the old days.

Gojyo: But, we’re running a bathhouse. What sort of Tanabata-related service should we offer?

Hakkai: That’s what I’d like to get everyone’s advice on.

Goku: Hm-mm.... how about setting up some bamboos by the bathtubs? [for the customers to hang colorful pieces of paper on, after writing their wishes for the year on those pieces of paper]

Gojyo: If those sharp leaves were to become loose and fall, they’d cover the whole surface of the water and no-one would be able to move in the bath.

Sanzo: The customers would probably be pleased – if they were pandas.

Hakkai: Decorating the interior of the bathhouse is a good idea by itself... hmm, but exposing the customers’ bare skin to bamboo leaves in the bathhouse is a bit risky.

Goku: Then, since we’re running a bathhouse, how about handing out hot spring steamed buns? [onsen-manju: buns stuffed with azuki-bean paste sold in towns and resorts of hot springs]

Hakkai: Wouldn’t it be a false representation to call those ‘hot spring steamed buns?’ [since the Genjo bathhouse does not use a hot spring as their water source.]

Gojyo: Would anyone be delighted to eat steamed buns right after coming out of the bath?

Sanzo: They would be, at least somewhat.

Gojyo: Damn old geezers with a sweet tooth should just keep their mouths shut.

Sanzo: Keep my mouth shut, you say? I’m the owner of this bathhouse, you good-for-nothing!

Gojyo: You're one to talk! Haven’t you gone into retirement a long time ago and left the running of the bathhouse completely to Hakkai?

Sanzo: Hah?

Gojyo: What is it? Bring it on!

Goku: Jeez, what are you guys doing? Stop fighting and think seriously over this Tanabata event!

Hakkai: Goku has really become dependable, hasn’t he? For the time being, since we need to report what we plan to do for the Tanabata event to the neighborhood association in one week’s time, let’s come up with something until then. The two of you, please lend your support for a bit as well, okay?

Gojyo: Yeah, yeah, I got it.

Sanzo: Hmmph.

Hakkai: Well then, I need to get back to work. Please be careful when putting out the fire**, Father. [I listened to this for a few times before concluding that in Hakkai’s absence, Sanzo probably has a tendency to set things on fire when lighting up a cigarette or something....]

Goku (sounding excited): Tanabata Festival, huh? I’m sure looking forward to it....

--------

(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes or clarifications. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am not sure with. Suggestions for improvements and corrections are more than welcome.

[thisworldisablackhole]

Belong Realistic IX

🌕🌕🌕🌑🌑

FFO: POST PUNK, MECHANICAL SHOEGAZE, AMBIENT / LISTEN

New Orleans duo Belong don't like to do the same thing twice. Turk Dietrich and Michael Jones have always made the music that they wanted to hear, regardless of their audience, but now I'm starting to think that they also just enjoy alienating people. They put their name on the map in 2006 with October Language; a gorgeous ambient record that was bathed in waves of distorted euphoria. Then in 2011, Common Era saw the duo implement drums, rhythmic bass, and a higher focus on structure and vocals into the mix, all while retaining those ethereal washed out textures that their debut was known for. The move toward a more driven post-punk sound was surely a disappointment to some, but I have always regarded it as a masterclass in mood and atmosphere.

Flash forward 13 years, and Belong have returned out of the blue to once again ask the question; Are you with us, or not? Because the bus is leaving in five…

Realistic IX continues in the same general direction as Common Era, but in a vastly different vehicle that is surprisingly mechanical and harsh. The free flowing textures that gave their previous works such a humanistic warmth have been mostly eschewed in favour of highly synchronized and bright guitar strums backed by drums which are uncomfortably punchy and sharp. The vocals are also buried lower in the mix and sound more robotic than ever, leading to an atmosphere that is altogether less emotionally evocative. The highlights on this album actually end up being the less bass driven and more ambient focused cuts such as "Crucial Years", "Bleach" and "AM / PM", where the group removes the vocals and turns down the snap of the snare drum to lean back into creating these hazy, acid-washed techno soundscapes. Many of the other tracks are based around repetitive chord patterns and fail to distinguish themselves outside of having a slightly different textural make-up. Once you hear the opening track, you've pretty much heard them all.

That doesn't mean they aren't worth listening to, however. Some more diversity in song structure would have gone a long way in making Realistic IX the comeback hit that it deserved to be, but there is still something oddly intriguing and dream-like about this record—like expired film dipped in bleach, or an acid trip on the beach. The prominence of crunchy guitar chords in the mix implies a more human affect, but this is also somehow their most distant and cold sounding record to date. If I had to choose an album to represent the symbiosis of human soul with artificial intelligence (or perhaps artificial soul with human intelligence), Realistic IX might be the winner. It's an interesting concept, but it doesn't necessarily result in the most engaging music. Either way, I still welcome Belong back from their absence with open arms and a willingness to give their vision a chance.

[uncertainmagia]

Brindis glanced her map, a yellowed thing her grandmother had taped to the driver’s side sun shade. Outside, northern Arreboles looked like it ever did, desert and dust for miles. Even this far from the open pit mines to the south, trails of magia lingered in the sky. Abue Tati said it reminded her of the aurora borealis.She drove in silence, except for the crunchy sound of static from the radio.

Occasionally she tapped the button, just like Abue Tati told her to. The static would waver, collecting into a voice, then dissipate again.

On the fourteenth attempt, just as the northernmost coast in Lirio came into view, Brindis heard her grandmother’s creaky, almost mocking laugh over the radio.

_____________________________________________

Daily Prompt:

[anosci]

(106-120 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9])

names and thoughts below cut

106/ VA - Dubstep Is Fun! Vol.4 (2010) 2010 is a weird era for dubstep and this falls in line with that. a bit closer to uk but not quite. its a fun era and im happy to explore more of it. maybe ill even remember to check the other 4 vols? "Magnet" personal highlight i think

---

107/ VA - Rinbo (Remixed) (2012) alternates between super chill and massive (but still with chill) i find that i enjoy the latter more

---

108/ VA - Bodrog OST: The Remixes (2018) kinda grab bag of styles and flavors. oldschool idm flavor, insane dark electric sounds, hazy crystalscapes, 'chillout'… overall a good time. standout remixes: adapt, nagz, proswell

---

109/ SGX - Wonderful Bite (2010) this doesnt hit me as hard as sgx's previous albums, which i guess is a tall order since those earlier albums are some of my all time favs. overall just ok imo. still has some bite, at least.

---

110/ Alva Noto + Ryuichi Sakamoto - Summvs (2011) a stillness hanging in the air. beauty.

---

111/ Vektroid - Starcalc (2011) i guess its vaporwave? im finding it to be a bit of a mixed bag. why is it so crunchy sometimes… anyway. (mostly) chill vibes and a lovely accompaniment as i program into the night.

---

112/ nelward - the mondo zone (2016) good lord this is fun and beautiful??? am i basic for adoring the EB salute?

---

113/ (all the music compos from Revision 2023) lots of bangers. i love the funk in oldschool! personal highlight is seeing some digifu sweep the exemusic category!

---

114/ zunzagi - delayed emotions (2011) biggish beatish chillout. home made music that invokes a certain feel. feels wintery to me. a little bit nostalgic.

---

115/ Shane Mesa - Mother 4 Soundtraaaack!! (2017) true to its name: this is a soundtrack, including incidental cues. as such: its a strong album but weird to comment on as an "album". but yeah i do love me some EB insp tunes. battles esp!

---

116/ Andrea - Due in Color (2023) (starting the album) some nice hazy tunes to vibe to at night :) (reaching "Sephr") oh shit!!!! that bass is a nice foundation for the softer textures above.

---

117/ Rave Angst - Exist (2023) i loaded this up blind, expecting actual rave. instead i got some greenroom chillout stuff :O there's also a lot of uziq-ish idm flavorings sprinkled in. a nice ride.

---

118/ VHS Head - Phocus (2023) i remember listening to some older vhs head releases and finding the chops a bit… offputting. too shuffled? cant explain in a tweet but yea. this doesn't have that. it coheres. there's more ambiance i guess? it feels good. i like it.

---

119/ (every music compo at Edison 2022) eh……….. (imo) there are a few winners here tho. digifu sweep bb! personal standouts: "Happy Summer Goat" and "Bosse Casionova"

---

120/ VA - Straight Up Glitch Hop! Vol. 2 (2012) kicking it 2012 style with the most 2012 opening ive heard since 2012. of course this is a comp and thus all over the map. hi lites: "Cerebellum Serenade", "Amnesty" :), "Bangers n Mash"!, "I Don't Yoga" (appreciate the gunky funky)

---

(nextpage)

[just-cowboys]

Stick Season pt. 2

Tim goes hiking through Harlan woods in a very New Moon fashion

While Marie Kondo-ing his apartment, Tim finds an old pair of hiking boots. The first thing he thinks about is the hiking trails in Harlan.

Using the internet and an actual God forsaken map, Tim plots a trail--one close enough to town that he won't be bothered by hill people and far enough away that he'll be drowning in tall trees.

He makes a plan for the following weekend and leaves word with a local army buddy in case he disappears off the map for longer than 48 hours.

Harlan's familiarity kills him a little inside and he understands Raylan a little better now. He thinks about sending Raylan a snarky text, but remembers he's been in Miami for over a year, and that matches the time spent in silence.

Tim buys pot from one of Loretta's distributors and thanks the high heavens (pun intended) that they don't recognize him

There's a park that'll let him park his truck overnight for a fee and so that's where his trail begins. The parking lot is near empty and Tim considers abandoning his whole plan. But what else would he do now? Just spend a weekend in Harlan? Absolutely not. So, instead, he pops open his squeaky driver's door and throws his pack over his shoulders.

He walks through the woods with the leaves shades of red, yellow, and brown, although the pines are still vibrant green. He listens to the crunchy sounds of his footsteps and the wind rustling through the trees.

two hours into his walk and he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. Fuzzy and black, Tim doesn't need a second look to know he needs to get the fuck out of here. He tries to remember if Raylan ever gave him any advice on how to deal with wildlife, but he almost snorts at the notion. Tim wouldn't consider Raylan to be an "outdoorsy" fellow.

Once the floodgates open, it all pours out. Tim's mind flips through memories of Raylan until the sun goes down and Tim makes camp. It's almost like being close to him again.

[hansolmates]

g.p.s - god, parents suck | m

summary; seokjin just wants to enjoy the disney treatment and you are more than happy to deliver pairing; dilf!jin x hotelier!reader genre/warnings; crack, humor, gets a lil emotional, teenage daughter issues, one very minor allusion to a daddy kink LOL, a very vaguely implied sex scene, so CHEESY  w.c; est. 5.1k a/n; wee my first jin fic! this is for @btsghostiewritersnet​ #DynamiteDads event! I was supposed to go to disney this year but sadly miss rona had to cancel our plans so this is just pure self indulgence. as always thank u to @eerieedits​/ @chillingtae​ for the disney dream fic banner!

if you like it give it a bippity-boppity-boop on the like and share buttons! ✨✨✨

“Left, left!” Seokjin cries, holding onto the emergency break for dear life, “not my left, your left!” 

“We’re facing the same way! We have the same lefts!” 

“Clearly not if we’re going right, Sweetheart.” 

“But the GPS says to go right!” 

“In four-hundred feet, keep left at the fork,” Google Maps interrupts pleasantly.  

“That’s it. Kim Yeji, pull over!” 

“But Daaaaaaaaad,” yet his daughter complies, sadly pulling over at the edge of the road. She doesn’t even have to step on the gas, just turns the wheel slightly so she can land slowly, pathetically on the gravel. 

“Angel,” Seokjin says levelly, reaching over to unclick the seatbelt. “I will drive the rest of the way, I gave you time to practice for you have to drive to college but we can’t get on the highway like this.” 

“You never let me do anything.” 

“What, I do! Who let you go to prom in that sequined excuse for a dress?” 

“Uncle Namjoon!” 

“Fine, I’ll give him that! Who let you dye your hair to a crisp—” 

“Uncle Hoseok!” 

“Uncle–” Seokjin is affronted, jabbing the seatbelt in it’s locked position when he gets in the front seat. “Forget it, let’s just have a peaceful drive for the next few hours until we get to the hotel,” he removes Yeji’s phone from the holder, placing it in her lap. 

“Dad,” she waves her phone around, pointing to Google Maps, “you need the GPS to get there.” 

He scoffs, “No, I don’t. We’ve been to Disney plenty of times. I know where we’re going.” 

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time we went to Disney?” 

“When you were two? Three?” 

Yeji relaxes in her seat, not ready to argue with her dad once more. “Alright, lead the way,” she gestures vaguely to the empty parkway, devoid of life for miles. 

Seokjin is undeterred, reaching over the console to pat Yeji’s blonde hair. He turns on the radio, only to be met with the sound of crunchy static and terrible country music. Cutting the radio, he immediately switches to an old Disney CD, telling Yeji to let it go as he pulls into the open road. Reddish dust clouds around the car briefly, ripping against the tires as they drive off to their hotel. 

“Is this the Princess Hotel?” 

“Nope, this is the Prince S Hotel.” 

You can’t help but grin at the way your current customer’s face falls. He’s a handsome thing, all plush and pillowy in the cheeks and lips. Despite his daughter hanging off his arm like a limp noodle—after all it’s past 2AM and they’ve probably been driving for hours—he still manages to look somewhat put-together despite you telling him they’ve got the wrong place. 

“Told you, use the GPS,” her daughter chastises weakly, tucking her cheek in his shoulder. 

His kid’s a pretty girl, kind of reminds you of when you were a teenager. “The Princess Hotel is about an hour away on the other side of the Disney resorts,” you say slowly, noting from the way the girl is swaying on her feet that her father must be equally as tired, “although, I would suggest staying here for the night. Your daughter’s about to fall asleep on my counter.” 

At the pointed look you’re giving the teen, Seokjin puts a protective hand on her slim shoulders. “Yeji-bear, why don’t you lie down for a bit,” he leads her over to a spare couch. “We’ll call our booked hotel,” he says shortly, looking over his shoulder to give you a forced smile. 

Ah, you’ve seen this scene one or two times in your days working at Prince S. A father too prideful to admit he may have messed up just a little with the directions, and a child that probably argued or simmered so hard on the way they’re passed into a stupor on your lobby couch. Tonight, or your early morning is a little special though, you’ve never seen a father as handsome as the one in front of you, exasperatedly calling up their real hotel reservations. 

“What? My reservation has been revoked?” her daughter groans when he jostles around his lap, knocking her head, “how can you do that? Past the time? I thought this was Disney!” 

You drum your nails against the counter, using your other hand to pull up your guest list for the night on the computer. The father, now furrowed in the face, walks up to you and leaves his daughter on the plush couch. 

“One double bedroom for the weekend, please,” the father pulls his cards out, flicking it to your side of the counter. He places down his car keys in the available holder, “I parked out front, you do valet right?” 

With a nod, you get to work. “Take it they weren’t very accommodating?” 

“They gave our hotel room to some Make-A-Wish Foundation kid!” he cries exasperatedly, hands in the air as you patiently book the room. Your eyes linger longer than usual on his driver’s license and ID: Kim Seokjin. Even his driver’s license mugshot looks handsome. He rests his arms against your counter, despondent. “Is it terrible for me to hate on some kid with a terminal illness?” 

“A little,”  you shrug, slipping his keycard under his elbow, “but I mean according to your, Yeji-bear,” you can’t help but giggle at the nickname, “if you used the GPS you’d be at the correct hotel.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Seokjin glares, hauling his and Yeji’s luggage in one hand, “baby, let’s go upstairs c’mon.” 

You watch the small family trudge to the elevators,  sleepily walking forward like zombies. No one spares you a second glance, they never do, so it gives you ample courage to take a look at Kim Seokjin’s toned body. Broad shoulders, a Dorito-trimmed waistline, and long legs that you want to climb up on.

Oh, daddy. 

“Hey,” Yeji pops up on your counter, looking much perkier than she did hours before, “do you have my dad’s car keys?” 

Trying not to raise your brows at your young guest, you give her a smirk, leaning over the counter. A spunky thing, with sharp eyes with a pretty cat-tipped eyeliner shape that has her looking well put-together. You wish you had your shit together as a teenager, you barely have it together now. 

“I do,” you quip, “why?” 

“I wanna get Starbucks,” she says simply, “the pineapple matcha is to die for, and I want to drink as many summer specials as I can before it’s over.” 

“Valid,” you reply, going into your master key to retrieve all the guests’ keys. Taking Seokjin’s from its holder, you note the expensive make. Peering up from your desk, you look at Yeji’s innocent features. Before you place the key in her waiting palm, you snatch it away, “Why do I have the feeling you’re doing something that you’re not supposed to be doing?” 

Yeji tilts her head, “I don’t think it’s any of your business,” 

Sassy. You like it. “Get me a grande matcha frappe and your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Deal.” 

Watching Yeji drive off in the large Hyundai Palisade gives you a little twinge of worry, but you quickly tamp it down to motherly instinct. If you were Yeji’s mom—which you’re definitely not, you’d be worried. Naturally, you feel similarly. 

The hotel phone rings, the red light from 921 blinking on your switchboard. Flipping down the room number you pick up the receiver, “Prince S Hotel, how can I help you?” 

“You do booking, valet, and housekeeping?” Seokjin’s exasperated voice says in your ears, “who would I call if I want breakfast?” 

“That would also be me,” you reply wryly, twisting the curly wire between your fingers, “we advertise ourselves as a hotel for the quality, although we are much smaller with only thirty rooms. Sort of like a bed n’breakfast, getting the true royal treatment.” 

“Would the royal treatment consist of some extra towels and a continental breakfast?” 

“You got it.” 

A little cliché of you to do the whole “whistle while you work” segment—a lacy apron to make sure your uniform doesn’t get dirty, a spot of coffee to keep you peppy and setting everything up on a gold trimmed cart. You didn’t think you’d see Seokjin again, especially after how upset he was about his room. 

With a little rap on his door, Seokjin invites you inside to set up. Their room overlooks the valley as opposed to the busy roads, so it’s a perfect way to rise with the sun. He immediately reaches for the coffee as you drag your little cart in, completely ignoring the cream and sugar on the side. After a long sip, he moans in pleasure. 

“Ah,” he exhales, a sound that has you teeming. You grip the handlebars a little tighter than usual, “Maybe it was fate that we ended up here.” 

“Maybe,” you fight the urge to bite your lip, because Seokjin has no idea how cliché of a line that is. He isn’t even speaking directly at you, talking in front of the sun like it’s his morning routine. “Say, have you seen Yeji around?” 

“Ah,” you shug, pretending to be oblivious, “I think she went out for a walk.” 

He turns to you, giving you a quivering brow, “She hates walking. Probably calling her friends in Korea or something.” 

Of course she doesn’t like walking, you think, that’s why she took your car for some overpriced drinks. 

Instead, you place the fresh pancakes and sides on the guest table, making sure everything is organized and in order. You place the towels atop the haphazardly made bed, making sure to put two mints on top. It isn’t customary to include mints, but you think the mints your hotel has taste great and deserve to be shared around more often than not. 

“So, it looks like you’re ready for Disney,” you remark, taking note of his outfit. He has on blush mid-thigh shorts, stretchy and made from a canvas fabric that looks airy and comfortable. Around his neck is a little portable fan, and on his head is an old Mickey baseball cap. 

“Ah, just for today and tomorrow! Sunday is my ‘me’ day,” Seokjin says, dashing across the room at the sight of fresh food, “Yeji is meeting with some cousins and will be spending the rest of the weekend with them.” 

“Sounds like a fun weekend,” you remark, turning to leave. 

“Will you be working the rest of the weekend?” 

This is supposed to be small talk. You try to convince yourself that Seokjin is just being polite, wondering if his service is going to be impacted by you being around or not. There must be nothing sexual, or just mere attraction, going on between the two of you. Well, maybe on your side of things. The pink shorts and the baseball cap are doing things to your body that you barely understand. Unfortunately, the eager apples of his cheeks and the innocent upturn of his lips lets you know that any possibility of returned affections is virtually nonexistent. 

“It’s my weekend off,” you fight the twinge of excitement when you see Seokjin pout, “but Park Jimin relieves me, and he’s definitely a much better host than I am. He’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.” 

“Does he make better pancakes than you?” Seokjin asks, swirling a bite in a ribbon of maple syrup.  

“I’m afraid not,” you smile, “he makes a mean breakfast burrito though.” 

He shrugs listlessly, eating slower. He takes his time to make sure every pancake is cut in equal two-centimeter pieces, taking his time as if he’s savoring the last of your home-cooked meal. “Not sure if I’ll be completely satisfied then.” 

With a firm smile, you wheel your cart out as fast as you can. You can’t keep up the facade now, not with your trashy mind and your dampening panties ruining your sense of self. Quietly slamming the door behind you, you’re met with Seokjin’s spitting image. 

Yeji tilts her head at you, eating you alive with her dead-on stare. She places the keys and your matcha beverage on your cart. 

“Did my dad confuse you or something?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“He’s like that,” Yeji shrugs, taking a long sip of her drink, “don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

A good word? With an uneasy smile you wheel away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks.

“Can I have the keys?” Yeji asks the next morning, minutes before your shift ends.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You’re sure Yeji is a wonderful kid and has a good heart, but she’s seriously putting your five-star Yelp review on the line. Cocking one eyebrow you say, “What, need your Starbucks fix?” 

“Do you know how to parallel park?” 

“Why, need a teacher?” 

“It’d be better to have someone nearby to make sure I don’t park into a guard rail.” 

“Does Seokjin approve?” 

“You obviously know the answer to that,” Yeji replies, “and you and my dad are on a first-name basis, huh?” 

Fighting the heat in your cheeks, you busy yourself by locking up the money box and key tin, but not before grabbing the keys to the Palisades. “I’m doing this for you because I have impeccable customer service skills,” you feign haughtiness, leaving your front desk and scanning your ID to clock out. 

“Not because you think my dad is hot?” she follows you out the door. 

“Do you always talk about your dad like that?” 

Yeji is silent as she takes the keys from your grip, and you follow her in the passenger seat. A scent that’s fruity yet musky fills your nostrils, and you hug your arms for comfort. This is painfully awkward, at least in your point of view, but Yeji pays no mind as she connects to her Spotify playlist and turns on the air conditioner. 

“I’m not one of those prissy daughters that try their damn hardest to make sure their dad doesn’t date,” Yeji murmurs, adjusting the mirrors, “anyone my dad dates will be better than Hyehwa. He deserves to be happy for all that he’s done for me.” 

“Hyehwa?” 

“The biological carrier for nine months,” Yeji replies dryly. 

Your heart pinches, squeezing against your ribcage as you put two and two together. Hyewha, who you’re assuming is, or was Yeji’s mother, is definitely out of the picture. Yet seeing how confident Yeji is with herself, and how much he loves her father and wants him to be happy, is clear in your eyes. 

“You are one cool kid,” is the only thing you can say, hoping you don’t have that silly heartened look in your gaze. 

It seems that you do, because all she does is roll her eyes and put the car in drive. 

It’s nearly one in the morning when you get the call. 

You’re off the clock, but it’s graveyard hours and you and Jimin are craving pizza. So while Jimin tends to the last minute guests, you pick up a cheesy pie and hide behind the desk while Jimin does his job. 

You’ve polished off half the pie when the main phone rings, and Jimin sighs heavily. Late night and early morning calls are the absolute worst. 

“Get the hospital on speed dial,” Jimin jokes, but not really because the last time someone called at one, you really did wish you had an ambulance on-site. 

“Prince S hotel,” Jimin spins the cord between his fingers, looking like a dreamy teen heartthrob as he leans against the counter. He immediately swings the phone over to your greasy fingers, “it’s a personal call.” 

Wiping your hands on the box, you raise a brow. “Hello?” you ask, wholly confused. 

“Mm, it’s Yeji,” the voice slurs on the other line, “I need help.” 

“A-are you drunk?” you say, incredulous.

“Yeah, me and my cousin snuck a bottle downtown,” Yeji sounds nervous, and you unconsciously grip the phone tighter, “can you pick us up? I can drop you my location if you give me your number, please. My dad trusted me with the Palisade this weekend, I can’t let him know what happened. I know I’m always trying to get under my dad’s skin and whatever but I don’t want him to lose my trust, what we did is a dumb mistake.” 

A part of you feels for Yeji, you’ve done dumb shit like this when you were young. All those fond memories are nothing but memories, and definitely not reflective of your current life now. 

The rational, intelligent part of you knows that you should probably call Seokjin right now and tell him what’s going on. You don’t really want to get involved in their family matters, especially when as of late you’ve been inserting yourself in Yeji’s antics. 

With a sigh, you pull up your Lyft app, already knowing whose side you’re on. 

It takes no more than fifteen minutes for you to arrive at the scene, Yeji and what you assume is her older cousin sitting on the curb of a dilapidated Krispy Kreme, sadly polishing off a whole box of glazed donuts, Well, her cousin is polishing off the box, Yeji is taking nibbles at her proffered donut. 

You sigh, pulling Yeji up. You see tear-streaks, her previously perfect cat-eye smudged off and running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, sounding not as inhiberated as she did before, “I bothered you.” 

“Not at all,” you soothe, running a hand down her braids. You try not to melt when Yeji nearly leans into your warmth, but backs up at the last second, “I’m happy that you called. Would rather know that you’re safe now than later, yeah? I’m not mad at you,” you assure, pulling a crumpled brown napkin from the pizzeria to dab at her ruddied cheeks. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” you turn your head dangerously slowly towards the cute muscle pig who’s still sitting on the curb, “Ya deserve a five-star Yelp review for this service—” 

“But I’m mad at you,” you pointedly ignore his drunken charm. He looks old enough to drink, which only further annoys you because he should be the one taking care of Yeji, “get in the damn car, Youngkook.” 

“It’s Jungkook—”

“Get in.” 

He swallows his tongue, and you notice Yeji stifling a giggle at your attitude. She wordlessly hands you the keys, clamoring in the front seat while Jungkook takes the whole back row. Yeji tiredly informs you the address to her cousin’s hotel, and you drive off into the night. 

“Did I ruin my dad’s chances with you?” you think that Yeji has no clue what she’s saying, but there’s a little sliver of heart in her tone. Her face is pressed against the window, the cold glass on the verge of keeping her awake as she stumbles in and out of consciousness. 

“You could never do that,” you mumble, and you smile when her eyes willingly flutter shut. 

“Hey, babe,” you practically hear desperation in Jimin’s voice.

“Jimin, no,” you already know that his request is sitting prettily on the tip of his tongue, “it’s my weekend off. I’m not getting out.” 

“But someone requested your pancakes,” he whines, and you can practically feel his pout on the other line, “and he said and I quote ‘I’ll be able to tell that you made them.’ I feel threatened!” 

“Did they offer to pay in diamonds?” 

“N-no. But he said it’s his daughter’s special weekend and he’d be really thankful if you’d come by and make your breakfast for him.” 

Daughter? Yeji. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. You have your own room separate from the hotel, a deal that has you living rent free in exchange for your hard labor five days a week. “Heat up the stove for me and crisp the bacon,” you mutter, hanging up and throwing the phone under the covers. 

Tugging your hair back and throwing on a large hoodie, you put on your slippers and pad down the little sidewalk that leads to the hotel. The sun beats down on you immediately, willing you to go back to your air-conditioned room to fall back asleep. Swimming through the soup that is the Californian air, you shuffle inside Prince S and make a beeline for the kitchens. You brush through busy employees, flashing a quick smile and “good morning” as you get to your station.

Jimin is already there, sitting at your workspace. All your ingredients are sitting out: flour, eggs, butter, vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, buttermilk, and fresh berries. However, Jimin makes  no moves to attempt cooking, instead looking at you with pursed lips and waiting for you to get a move on. 

“Get your butt off my counter,” you slap his thigh disapprovingly, pulling your sleeves up to start mixing the ingredients, “you’re dirty.” 

“I embrace being dirty,” Jimin replies majestically, kicking his legs back and forth. His Doc Marten creepers wave in your vision, “thank you for swinging by. He said that it was really really important that you come in and make them. Daughter’s request.” 

“They’re lucky they’re a cute family,” you mutter under your breath, although the words aren’t laced with malice. 

The batter is fluffy and puffy, rising with the scent of melted butter and caramelized sugar. You take careful fingers towards the berries, creating a smiley face in the uncooked pancakes. 

“Is your maternal side kicking in?” Jimin says in your ear, and you swing at him with your spatula. 

“Leave me alone, art is being made.” 

“Sure,” Jimin hops off the table, patting your shoulder, “I got a date with room 69,” you roll your eyes, there is no such thing as room 69. “So please continue to be awesome and finish off this favor by delivering it to Mr. Kim’s room.” 

“Jimin, no!” you don’t care that half the staff is staring at you amusedly, the other half uncaring because they’re so used to the two co-managers. “I’m not wearing—I’m not wearing pants.” 

You gesture to the obscene amount of bare legs out in the open. California’s hot as hell, you try to wear as little layers as possible. However, in the workplace you like to keep a modicum of decency. Even though Kim Seokjin is fine fine fine, you have decorum. 

But Jimin’s already off to visit the guest in room 69 and you’re stuck with a pile of fresh hotcakes and none of the workers want to get involved in your shenanigans. Typical. Begrudgingly, you force your Hallmark-esque smile and arrange the gold trimmed cart, taking care to put extra berries in the fruit dish. 

It’s a simple transaction. Get in, drop off the food, accept the tip if Seokjin feels generous, and get out. The door to room 921 looks larger than life, intimidating like the gates to heaven. You knock firmly, but gingerly. “Room service?” the voice that escapes your lips is your sugary professional voice, one that makes you wince immediately. 

A muffled “coming!” has you bristling at the door. You curse yourself, looking at your bunny-clad feet and your legs disappearing under your hoodie. 

As soon as Seokjin pops his head open you blurt, “I swear, I’m wearing shorts underneath this.” 

“Uh,” and that forces him to look at your legs. Dammit, it was a good intention but the wrong way to go. “Good to know,” he coughs, opening his door wider. 

The room is much messier on Seokjin’s side of the room, now filled with Eeyore and Baymax memorabilia. A large, white Baymax plush sits innocently at one side of his untouched bed. You crack a smile at that. 

“Where’s Yeji?” you ask lightly, putting both stacks of pancakes down on the available table. You absently wipe the crumbs off, leading the little pile of food-crust to the garbage can. 

“Yeji?” Seokjin asks, “why would Yeji be here?”

The way you put the cutlery down instantly slows, “You called Jimin this morning saying you needed pancakes specifically made by me to give to Yeji.” 

“Who?” 

“Jimin?” you raise a brow, losing your high-pitched commercial tone. “Tiny, annoying blond guy?” 

Seokjin stares.

You stare back.

“Yeji’s at her cousin’s townhouse,” Seokjin states plainly. 

“No, you called and said Yeji wanted pancakes—” No. 

Yeji, or Jimin, or both called you and set it up. 

“Oh, Jimin’s an idiot,” you tap your head lightly, wanting to bop out any potential embarrassing memory that has burned in your brain, “must’ve misheard. Or is hearing ghosts! Honestly he isn’t the right mind I’m so sorry I reallygottaneedto—” 

You can’t even breathe let alone exhale the rest of your sentence, so you instead do the only thing you can do—run away. You don’t bother to exude grace as you plop any trash on the cart from yesterday’s room service, whipping the cart around so fast that the side wheels fly off and pop a wheelie. 

“We don’t have to let the food go to waste,” Seokjin says pointedly, probably watching you like he’s watching a comic show as you try to bolt out of the room. 

The door is closed, and the little hallway is too small for you to put your body and the cart between the walls. You’ve trapped yourself. Maybe you could just leave the cart and dip? You’re sure there’s at least two extras downstairs. 

“It won’t,” you reply dumbly, “I can eat it in the breakroom or something, I haven’t made breakfast for myself yet. I mean, I was kinda craving an avo-toast this morning, but pancakes are always a classic.” 

Seokjin snorts at your incessant rambling, carding a hand through his chocolate locks, “I’m trying to ask you to stay for breakfast.” 

“You’re trying to—oh,” you mirror his expression, running a hand over your hair so it pulls out of its already messy style. You haven’t done much physical activity this morning, but you feel absolutely breathless as you’re glued to the cheap carpet, taking in Seokjin’s wide glassy eyes

“And if you stay for dessert, I’d like to thank you properly,” 

“I didn’t bake dessert,” you hide the shudder in your throat when he steps closer, pinning you against the cart. Your knuckles must be transparent by now due to how hard you’re gripping the cart. 

“You didn’t,” Seokjin agrees, “but you definitely brought it.” 

You yelp, actually, a whole little dolphin-squeal escapes your lips as Seokjin puts his hand against the wall. You’re actually living a Disney-esque scenario that you do not want to be in. Seokjin’s either trying to give you the Eugene-Signature-Smoulder, or the Prince Naveen charm that isn’t very charming. 

“You’re a cheeseball,” you try to snap back, but it only comes out as a small reply, fitting of your cramped situation. 

His buttery brown eyes are clear and warm, and his sweet scent envelopes your form. You feel impossibly small, sinking deeper and deeper into your hoodie until you feel the heat of his voice sinking deep into your skin. 

It’s then that he leans in and whispers in your ear, his voice a simple request, “Please tell me that you’re interested in me too.” 

Something clutches softly in your heart, tethering you to Seokjin’s gaze. You wonder how many times Seokjin goes through this scenario. You wonder if he’s happy being a bachelor. You figure that many partners must have doubts being tethered by a teenage daughter, or if Seokjin is used to fleeting hook-ups.

“Have been since check-in,” you reply smoothly, finding your breath and looking up from your eyelashes.

Seokjin’s lips find yours, and you swear you’re lip-locking with Cloud Nine. They’re soft and supple and taste a little like maple syrup as they mingle with yours, and you can’t help but weave your hands through his equally silky strands, tugging him closer as he hooks his arms under your bare thighs. 

He gives your bottom an experimental squeeze, leading you to the unmade bed.

Needless to say, breakfast has to wait. 

“So, I’m going to throw a cliché.” 

“Sure, we’re in Disney.” 

“Why me?” you slap his bare chest when Seokjin laughs, pouting, “I mean it! All I did was look cute and give you pancakes!” 

“So you admit you’re cute,” Seokjin smirks. 

“C’mon don’t change the subject, tell me!” 

Even though this hotel is partially yours, you’re still amazed at the softness of the Egyptian cotton as it engulfs both your bodies. Maybe it’s because you’re warm and bathing in the noon afterglow, maybe it’s your bed partner. Still, it feels divine as you lounge in bed, sipping champagne (left by the door, courtesy of Jimin.)

“Mm, caught you driving around with Yeji in my car.” 

You sit up straighter, clutching the sheets to your chest, “You saw us last night?” 

“You were also out last night?” Seokjin tilts his head, “I meant when you taught her how to parallel park.” 

“Oh fuck—I mean,” you slap your forehead, knowing you can’t get away with this one, “Let’s just say I helped her out of a sticky situation. Don’t blame Yeji, blame Yeji’s bunny-headed cousin.” 

“Noted,” Seokjin throws an arm around you, snuggling closer. You relax into his hold, melting between the sheets and his soft skin, “Knowing you’re pulling through for her. Let’s just say I’m a little soft for my daughter, no matter how old.” 

“She’s wonderful,” you say genuinely, taking slow sips of your bubbly drink. 

“Wanna go visit her for lunch? I’m supposed to be meeting her in an hour.” 

You don’t feel deterred or nervous to see Yeji, or even the possibility of meeting Seokjin’s extended family. So you agree, run back to your room quickly to throw on a reasonable summer outfit that doesn’t consist of hooded sweatshirts and booty shorts. 

Seokjin offers to drive your sedan, and since you feel a little princess-ish today you decide to let him take the wheel. After a few minutes attempting to drive in the direction of the townhouse however, you lower the volume on the radio. 

“Jin? I think you’re going the wrong way,” not only do you live here, but you went to the townhouse last night and you’re sure it’s in the opposite fork, “do you want me to plug it in the G.P.S?” 

“I know my way, hon,” Seokjin waves you off, confidently streaming through the oncoming traffic. You smile nervously, you have a feeling this situation has happened once or twice. 

“Oh, is that why you ended up in my hotel?” you tease, “because you’re so good at directions?” 

“Duh,” Seokjin reaches for your hand atop the console, “after all, my intuition led me to you.” 

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto - Part Five - Orientation

Prologue 1. Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 2. Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 3. Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 4. Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2 5. Orientation

Things actually start happening now :D

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ @janetm74​ and @onereyofstarlight​ for all their amazing help. We’re deep into the hard slog now, but I am still enjoying this so that is a good sign :D

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this and cheer me on. The hard slog of the middle of a long fic can be as bad as the hard slog in the middle of a painting, so all cheering is always welcome. But ultimately, I’m hoping you are find this enjoyable and not boring :D Nutty is learning here, so big L plate on my forehead.

Let the antics continue.

-o-o-o-

Virgil stared at his father’s broad back as he walked the length of the gantry toward the elevator. Scott paused a moment and Virgil placed a hand on his back in support. Muscle beneath many micro layers of spacesuit rippled as his brother loosened his shoulders. A glance of fiery blue and Scott followed his father.

As was the way of things.

Virgil followed Scott.

As was the way of things.

The cavern was a large one. It had to be to fit Three beneath its airlock doors. His heads up display confirmed pressurisation of the bay to Earth normal and his mind did the calculations on the infrastructure required to pump that much atmosphere into such a large space so quickly. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

The gantry led to an elevator platform and they crowded onto it. Gordon brushed up against him as if to catch his attention and a worried frown was shot in Virgil’s direction.

As the gantry retracted and the platform lowered, Virgil let a hand brush against Gordon’s side. If he did the same to Alan, well, they were his brothers and he may have needed the connections a little himself.

The ride down gave them a great view of the heavy equipment available in the bay. Virgil had accessed all the information he could get his hands on during the trip out, needing to know how he was going to deploy their own equipment.

He had known this was going to be an underground job and had packed accordingly. The problem with underground was initial deployment - how to get the equipment under the ground.

The backup was always to make their own holes. But that could be unnecessarily messy and a last resort. So Virgil was quite happy to see the set up included all the heavy-duty crane and hover support he could ever want.

TI had equipped this expedition exceedingly well.

Walters met them at the bottom of the bay. The rock had been ground smooth down here, filler shone in places where ice had obviously been removed, making the floor a patchwork of white and dark grey, human ingenuity and raw moon.

The Commander nodded to Scott, but it was their father whose hand he grasped solidly before pulling him into a hug. “Space Jockey, it is so good to see you. Thank you for coming.” Walters stepped back and held Jeff at arms’ length. “You’ve gone grey.”

“And you’re bald. Your point?” But their father was grinning through the plasiglass of his helmet.

“We’re both a little crunchy around the edges.” He turned to Lee. “Hey, Scrappy.”

“Graeme, I may be old, but I can still kick your ass over that.” Despite the threat, Uncle Lee grabbed the man’s hand and shook it with enthusiasm.

“These are my boys.” Dad gestured at them in turn. “Scott, Virgil, Gordon and Alan. John is still aboard the Excel and will be liaising from there.”

Walters nodded at each of them in turn, his white-grey spacesuit wrinkling with the movement. He had his helmet on just like the IR crew did. Best chance to avoid contamination or some random bug the Tracys might had inadvertently brought with them.

Of course, Virgil and John had run the decon protocols before departure and it was obvious Callisto had its own methods, but the risk was there. Helmets on unless they had no choice.

Another thing about space that was annoying - listening to your own breathing in a confined container. Okay for short term, total annoyance long term. Especially if your nose got itchy.

It was a sign that Virgil really needed more sleep when he managed to miss a chunk of what Walters was saying simply because he was designing an in-helmet nose scratcher in his head. Well, it could be multifunctional if he gave it enough reach. Head scratcher, chin scratcher-

Gordon nudged him.

Unfortunately, right in his bruises. “Ow.” He glared at his brother only to find the fish gesturing with his eyes.

Commander Walters was looking at Virgil with a question on his face. Both Scott and Dad were frowning at him. Oh shit. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“The Commander asked if we would like to survey the entrance to the caves first or deploy our equipment.” Dad’s voice was very...patient. “Scott said it was your decision.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate, regardless of the embarrassment. “I’ve scoured your maps, Commander, but I would be happier if you could show us the entrance to the cave network. It’s not far?” maps and diagrams were one thing. Reality was another.

Walters eyed him a little curiously. “Sure. Follow me.” And he led them towards a set of massive doors.

For a moment there, Virgil expected some grinding machinery to split the doors wide like some grand movie entrance complete with cinematic music, but no, Walters led them to a small airlock embedded in the left door and ushered them through.

It was kind of disappointing actually.

“We keep the Garden isolated as a precaution and as a way to monitor the function of the ecosystem.

“Garden?” Alan had obviously not had time to fully read up on the Base like the rest of them.

Walters’ eyes lit up despite everything. “You are in for a treat. The Garden is our horticultural team’s ultimate triumph.”

The doors opened and sunlight flooded into the airlock. And it was sunlight enough for Virgil’s jaw to drop. They stepped out into an environment so familiar, they may as well have stepped out the back door of the villa.

Except it wasn’t. The plants were recognisable, yes, but their growth most definitely was not.

This was not in the briefing notes.

“This looks suspiciously familiar.” It was Gordon who stepped to the front of the group.

Walters frowned. “Excuse me.”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed in on the man. He pointed at a nearby tree. “Pokey trees don’t get that big in five years, Commander. What’s in the water?”

It was Walters’ turn to frown. “Pokey trees?” A blink. “Oh, pohutukawa. No, they do not. However, with some special treatment and the lack of strong gravity, they can.”

Virgil stared up at the giant tree. It was far too thin at the base for the spread of the massive branches and it seem wrong somehow. Everything was too long and looked as if it was going to fall. What was even more odd was the sound of a honeyeater argument in those branches. A scuffle, a ruckus of squawks and a flash of grey and yellow flew out from amongst the leaves and darted over the rocky hill in front of them.

“You have birds?!” Gordon sounded caught between amazement and outrage.

Walters stared at him a moment longer. “We have much more than that.” He turned away and led them away from the tree and up a winding path. Virgil’s boots crunched gravel that glittered as it moved. He frowned at what was probably nothing more than ground up moon. It was pale and sparkling like some set prop out of an early science fiction show John might have watched.

But he was soon distracted by much more fascinating sights.

The path led up a small hill and soon he realised that they were in a massive cavern, bigger than all the hangars beneath Tracy Island combined.

And it was full of life.

Birds of several different kinds flew about the ‘sky’. A sky dominated by a number of extremely bright lights hanging from a ceiling so high it couldn’t be seen for the brilliance. Oddly growing foliage was everywhere. The lone pokey tree by the door was scarlet in blossom, but it was not alone. Flowers sprouted from wonky stems and too tall grass. The little hill they were standing on was the highest point in the cavern, the ground sloping down into the distance. At the far edge, a lake had ducks swimming in it.

“How the hell?” It was Gordon, but Virgil’s questions were not far behind.

Several physical requirements clicked into place. The cavern was obviously heated and pressurised with an Earth level atmosphere just like the hangar, otherwise those birds wouldn’t be able to fly beyond bouncing in the gravity.

While Gordon’s head seemed ready to explode, Virgil managed one word. “How?”

Walters had a quietly confident smirk on his face. “A combination of research, applied science and a whole pile of luck.” A sigh. “This is Ju’s baby.”

Scott shifted where he stood. “Where is the access to the cave network?” Virgil glanced at his brother. There was an intensity in his eyes that spoke of both mission urgency and further questions that would need asking once that mission was complete.

Walters exhaled and nodded. “This way.” He led them down the other side of the hill to what eventually proved to be another set of massive doors. “The caverns were here when we arrived. We knew of them before we left Earth, but what we did not realise was their extent.” Walters stopped in front of the doors. He gestured at the cavern. “To create all this, we only needed to seal the cavern entrance overhead – which the Base did nicely. We installed a series of atmospheric inducers, the heating and the lighting. The rest we grew from seed or egg.” The man was obviously proud of their achievements.

“Sir, the caves?” Scott was getting rightfully impatient.

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” He swallowed and hurried over to yet another small door within a door.

Virgil took another step forward, intending on seeing how the door was unlocked when his world suddenly doubled. His stomach rolled over with that familiar nausea ever so reminiscent of their trip out here.

He swallowed and closed his eyes a second.

“Virg? You okay?” Gordon was whispering on a closed channel.

Virgil cranked his eyes open, lack of sleep suddenly piling on top of him. His fish brother was frowning at him. Scott, their father and Uncle Lee were walking towards Walters and the door.

The sudden vertigo had him fearing an incident inside his helmet.

But then as he took a step towards Gordon, the nausea faded away, a single last cramp dissipating as his little brother approached and put a hand on his arm.

“Virg?”

“I’m okay. Just felt dizzy for a second there.”

“T-drive?”

“Probably.”

“Meds wearing off?”

“Didn’t think I would need them.”

Now Alan had stopped following Scott and was looking back. Any minute now and he would have not only Scott on his ass, but Dad as well. He straightened his spine. “I’m good.” But whatever it was had triggered the beginnings of a headache.

Damn.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d completed a rescue with a headache. He’d throw back some paracetamol when they went back to Three to source their equipment.

“You sure?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

Gordon held up his hands. “Just checking, bro. Don’t get your pants in a twist. Hard to unknot them out here.”

But Gordon was still frowning at him.

Alan was turning back...

Move or get smothered.

He flexed his shoulders and strode off to join the rest of this family.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared after his heavy lifting brother.

Damn that T-drive. His own stomach hadn’t fully recovered either and Virgil was obviously still feeling it.

Gordon pondered whether Virg could knock him out for the voyage home. Maybe knock both of them out.

Alan was frowning and gesturing for him to hurry up. Scott and Dad had already entered what turned out to be yet another airlock.

Space was hard work.

He kicked at the gravel as he trotted after his brother and darted into the huge airlock with his brothers.

Walters was talking again as he sealed the door behind them. “The cavern appears to have been a terminus for this branch of the cave network.” Walters should seek a job as a tour guide. “As I said earlier, we knew about some of the caves before we arrived, but it became increasingly clear that our sensors weren’t telling the full story when we discovered exactly how many tunnels are under the surface here.”

Gordon felt the room depressurise and his HUD declared the atmosphere had become almost nothing. He frowned. It was still something though and he remembered that Callisto was one of those odd places that had the bare minimum of a bunch of gases clinging to it.

He was pretty sure that if he pinged Johnny, he could give him an essay on it, Jupiter luny fan he was.

Walters opened the other side of the airlock and led them through.

Oh, wow.

They were once again in a cavern, a smaller one to the one they had just left and it was obviously more in its natural state. The big doors were sealed into one wall and a lighting system had been deployed running off into the distance.

And there was a lot of distance. The cavern was definitely a tunnel, a good twenty metres wide and high. But that wasn’t all that had his jaw dropping.

The walls were sparkling in the light.

Walters must have seen his reaction or the reaction of his family. “Pretty amazing, huh? The walls are full of a mix of ice and rock. The ice catches the light, but there is also an unusual amount of mineralised crystal as well. We’ve found several types of quartz along with precious metals.”

Gordon was only half listening to him. He wandered over to the nearest wall and examined it. Ice. Water. But in a way it was rarely seen on Earth. Kinda interesting. He ran a hand over the wall and frowned. “You say this is natural?”

“Other than stringing up the lights and installing the doors, from here on, it is pure Callisto.”

“This was made by running water.” Even Gordon knew how impossible that was in the current environment. He looked up to find everyone staring at him. “Hey, I know my element when I see it. This wall has been eroded by running water.”

Walters slumped just a little. “Thank you. Ju has been saying that since we got here. Unfortunately, we can’t work out how that can possibly be a thing, but yeah, all the tunnels, if we were on Earth? Water made. Like limestone caves apparently.” A snort. “Ju has been very adamant about it.”

“Have you reported this?” Dad’s voice startled Gordon a little.

“Reported? Sure. But all her peers are less than accepting. All signs point to Callisto as having had no crustal movement since it formed, minor atmosphere, and certainly no running water at these pressures.”

“But this is a fact.” Gordon frowned again. “What about the reports of an ocean on Callisto under the crust.” Yes, he had checked that out. This wasn’t his first Jovian moon after all. It was why he had brought Four with him.

“Too far down. We can’t reach it. And besides, it is impossible for water to exist as a liquid on the surface, there is not enough atmospheric pressure. We’re barely five hundred metres down here. We haven’t been able to explain it, and until we do, it is considered only one possible and likely doubtful explanation.”

Gordon turned back to the wall. It glittered at him as if daring him to discover its mysteries. “Virg?”

“Hmm?” His brother’s voice was distracted enough to distract Gordon. He flicked over to a private comm. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. What did you want?”

Gordon grunted. “You got something to test the rocks?”

“If needs be. We have a rescue to complete first.” Virgil killed the private line and turned to Walters. “I’m satisfied. Scott, we need some recon. I recommend we get two dragonflies down here.”

Scott nodded. “Okay, we are go. Alan, you’re with me. Gordon, you’re Virgil’s wingman.”

As it should be.

Besides, Gordon wanted to keep an eye on their resident lumberjack. He was acting weird.

“Dad, you and Uncle Lee are our liaisons with Base.”

Gordon bit his lip.

“Scott-“

The Commander of International Rescue held up his hand, fire in his eyes. “No, arguments.”

Dad’s eyes latched onto Scott and flared, but Uncle Lee grabbed his arm. “Space Jockey...”

Grey eyes flickered to his best friend and got a dose of determined Lee Taylor for the effort.

Their father’s lips thinned as nobody moved for a whole moment, Scott emanating commander vibes all over the cavern. If Dad didn’t obey, all hell was going to let loose.

“Thunderbird Five to Callisto.” John’s voice echoed over multiple comms, a faint and unfamiliar hiss and crackle in the background.

The moment snapped and Scott tapped his comms. “We read you, Thunderbird Five.”

“There is considerable interference on comms, you should be aware. I cannot guarantee service at all times. Source is unknown.”

“Noted.”

Damn, that was going to make this even more difficult. They could get lost down here themselves.

But then this wouldn’t be the first time Gordon had worked without contact with his brothers.

First time in space, though.

“Scott, we have located two life signs.”

“What?!” Walters took a step forward and looked ready to climb into Scott’s commset to get further information.

The commander ignored him. “Details, Thunderbird Five.”

“Eos and I were able to work around the majority of the interference and we have two faint lifesigns registering to the north of Callisto Base, almost directly under Burr crater.”

“Only Two? We have five missing persons, Thunderbird Five.”

“I know, Scott.” John’s voice was calm but sad. “Eos is still working on that interference, but at this point I don’t expect to find more. We’ve been able to map the caverns and tunnels within a thousand-kilometre radius. Sending the data to your comms now. Other than those two, I’m reading nothing. I do not have enough resolution to locate anything more specific.”

Like dead bodies.

All of them shifted where they stood, caught between the positive of a location and the negative of three missing rescuees.

“Keep looking, Thunderbird Five.” Scott’s voice was empty of emotion.

They had a mission and now they had a target.

“FAB.”

The line cut out.

Virgil had already pulled up the map John supplied on his wrist ‘projector, his eyes combing the holographic maze of tunnels. Even from here Gordon could see they were massive. If these had been eroded by water, the rivers had been big.

But their history would have to wait. There were lives at stake and Scott was already moving back to the airlock, Virgil and the rest of the group hurrying to follow.

Gordon hesitated just a second, lured by the thought of water flowing through the rock in such a low-pressure environment that the liquid should be ice.

The walls sparkled at him.

But the mission...

He took a step forward and his foot kicked something tiny that bounced ahead of him. Frowning, he bent to pick it up.

The crystal was no bigger than his fingernail and sparkled pink in the lighting.

“Gordon!” Scott was glaring at him from inside the airlock.

The aquanaut shoved the stone into his kit and hurried to catch up.

Perhaps space was a little more interesting than he thought.

-o-o-o-

Next

[wienerbarnes]

The Escape

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,717

Warnings: mind control ooooo, general violence, description of stealing a car that is wildly inaccurate bc ive.... never stolen a car, dues ex machina

A/N: some background about the reader! this one takes place before the last chapter of the original series, way before anything with bucky. this oneshot kinda recounts her prison escape 👀 not a lot of bucky in this one, but kind how the reader got to where she is and stufffff i love a good origin story

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

You didn’t sleep the entire night. How could you? How were you supposed to sleep when you know you’re waking up to your inevitable death?

You refused a last meal a few hours ago. What was the point? You didn’t have an appetite anyway.

All you could do was count the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until the footsteps would sound down the hall, arriving at your cell, the guards would stare at you through the bullet-proof glass wall, the only wall of four that wasn’t made of thick concrete.

They’d take you down to the observation room, they’d strap you down in the chair before asking for your final words. You’d stare out into the window of the observation room, unable to see through to the otherside, but knowing there’d be witnesses there. Maybe the families of people you killed. Maybe government officials, the ones who worked as hard as possible to get you this ending.

First, the sodium thiopental would be injected into your veins to sedate you. Then, the vecuronium bromide will be given that will send your body into paralysis. Finally, the potassium chloride will stop your heart. And your life will be over.

What a shame.

Too soon, your life was wasted. And too soon did the guards feet sound down the hall. And too soon did he arrive in front of your cell, ordering you to get up from your bed to shackle you.

He’s alone, you notice. Perhaps they don’t expect you to put up much of a fight.

Something snaps in your brain and before you realize you’re even doing it, you’re tapping into the young guard’s poor brain. He was a cop. A cop turned prison guard to spend more time at home, less time out in the world trying to catch bad guys. Never really bad guys, though, always just some unlucky soul caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Open the cell.” You tell him, finally through to his head. The keys jingle as he unlocks the three complicated locks attached to the side of the door.

You’re suddenly grateful for the hundreds of times they called you crazy, they called you a psycho, they told you you didn’t have powers, that that was your sad and sorry excuse of the reason for your crimes.

“Take off your clothes.” You order next. The young man begins to strip, taking off his clothes until he’s down to his underwear. White briefs with a blue waistband.

Once his uniform is on your body, you take everything he has, leaving his pistol with him.

“Shoot at everybody that comes in here.” You tell him, and he stares at you blankly, no longer in control of his actions as you take over.

You take a moment, closing your eyes and trying to concentrate on what the prison looks like, where the exits are, and where the guards are. You peek an eye open to glance at the man’s watch that now sits on your wrist, eight minutes until the shift changes.

Eight minutes for you to not fuck this up.

You close the cell door behind you, locking it, and making your way down the hall. You need to time this perfectly so that you’re slipping out as the other guards are leaving.

Just keep your head down, and get out as quickly as possible. Don’t talk to anyone. Just get out and start walking. You’ll get to the city eventually and you’ll hide out until you can keep making your way through New York. Maybe you’ll go to Jersey. Or up to New Hampshire.

Yeah, you’re just going to walk to New Hampshire, aren’t you?

Not a priority right now. Focus on getting out. A deep breath until you unlock the gate at the end of the hall, making your way out into another hallway. You visualize the map in your head once more and keep making your way down. You walk with confidence, head still slightly tilted down, but steps quick and light. Another guard turns the corner at the end of the hall and you make sure your steps don’t falter, and he walks right by you without a second thought.

You’re still unsure about the whole mind control thing. You don’t want to question it, because it seems to be pretty useful right now, but you don’t want to abuse it either, knowing your luck will eventually fail you.

It’s not long before you hear a gunshot ring out in the distance and you glance at a clock on the wall to see the shift change happening now.

You need to get out of here, now. Soon the guards will realize it’s you who’s missing from your cell and the search will begin. They’ll start with the entire grounds of the prison, which will hopefully buy you some time to make it to the city, if you sprint.

You finally make it to a more open area, exit signs now posted at the tops of doorways. You finally find a group of other men, some with bags or coats and you slip into the crowd, hoping that these are the guys leaving from their shift.

“Hey, have a good one, man. Tell the family I said hello.” A rough hand pats your shoulder before brushing past you.

Your stomach drops at the fact that these men are so unaware. So unaware that their real friend is in your cell, probably having a shootout with the new guards who just began their shift. The fact that these guards showed up to work today and the first thing they encounter is another guard in his underwear shooting at them.

Push it back. Push it back. Push it back.

As you’re huddled in between bodies, a bright light suddenly washes over your face. Sunlight. Your eyes burn at the feeling, a feeling so foreign having not felt it in months. You force them open though. You need to separate quickly, because not only do you not know where the parking lot is, you don't know which car is yours, you don’t have keys, and even if you did, you don’t know how to fucking drive.

Why did you never learn this! You never thought you’d need to since you decided you were going to join the military at sixteen, but you still should’ve fucking looked into it!

You don’t think you’ll make it walking. It’ll draw too much attention. The prison is in the middle of fucking nowhere and you’re just going to walk home? What would be worse is if someone offers you a ride.

New plan: find your car and hope it’s unlocked so you can sit inside until everyone leaves.

You know Hydra made you break into things before; houses, cars, etc. But you’ve tried to repress so much of that time that you can’t remember if you ever hot wired a car before.

You hope your luck doesn’t run out anytime soon.

Men arrive at their cars and the options quickly narrow down between an orange SUV and a black, fancy-looking car. You take your chances on the SUV.

It’s unlocked. It���s fucking unlocked. You shut the door and heave, feeling so hard to breath in the small space, but feeling relieved at the chance to finally make some noise and express your stress outside of that group of people you were stuck around.

“C’mon. C’mon! Fight or flight, c’mon, just make me know how to hot wire this.” You close your eyes, as though that will suddenly make the knowledge appear in your head. It doesn’t, surprisingly.

Until you look in the cupholder to see a dozen bobby pins. He probably has a daughter. “It’s going to have to do.” You mumble to yourself.

You quickly straighten them out and shove them into the small spot where the key goes. You twist and turn, holding a bunch of pins together to simulate an odd shape of the key, until finally you hear a click.

That’s gotta be good! Right? You go with it, continuing to twist until you hear a sputtering and crunchy sound of the engine starting.

This guy drives a piece of shit car. But it’s fucking on! You waste no time in putting the car into the drive before pulling out the lot. You make yourself extremely nauseous at your own driving, or rather, attempt at driving. You see in the rearview mirror the lights on the prison flashing, the bright red signaling that they’ve realized you escaped. You give yourself twenty minutes before they ditch the search of the prison grounds and look for you in the city.

Down the road you alternate between driving fifteen miles an hour to sixty, finding it so difficult to get a steady control of the car. But you’re doing it! You only need to make it to the city. That’s it.

“How the fuck do they make sixteen-year-olds do this shit?”

Eventually you get the hang of it. Still a terrible driver, but you at least don’t feel as scared driving among other cars. 

The longer you drive, the more it catches up to you what you’ve done. Soon enough, the tears come and so do the sobs. Until you stop a red light and let out a yell of agony, the stress and sadness washing through your body.

It’s hard, wanting to break down completely but having to keep your eyes open for the light to change, and having to pay attention to your surroundings. You find a small alleyway to pull into and you put the car in park before ditching it.

No time to cry, you can cry later. You peek around at the name of restaurants and stores around you, not recognizing any of them. You look at the street signs not recognizing those, either. You haven’t been around society in almost ten years, and you feel hopelessly and utterly lost.

You look around the alleyway and see a big dumpster. Just for a little while, you think. You lift the lid and climb inside, shutting the lid above you.

It’s dark, greasy, and the worst thing you’ve ever smelled, but it’s somehow better than where you were. You don’t know how much time has passed, but the noise outside the dumpster grows, and you make a guess that it’s around six or seven in the morning.

If you want to blend in with the crowd, you need to change your clothes. A prison guard outfit will most definitely make you stand out to people, especially when news breaks that there's a prison escapee on the loose.

When you finally lift the lid to stand up, you look to your left to see a teenager, probably not older than seventeen, staring at you, frozen, key in hand, seemingly to open up some store that you’re in back of.

He’s tall and lanky, and what makes him stand out to you the most is the spiky black hair he sports on his head and the thick black eyeliner around the rims of his eyes.

“You… okay?” He asks, clearly confused as to why a random woman in a prison guard outfit is hanging out in the dumpster behind her place of work. But you’re frozen. You don’t know what to say. You can’t imagine the last twelve hours I’ve been through, it won’t make much sense.

“Are you… hungry?” He asks when you don’t answer. “I’m, uh, opening now, but no one will be here for another hour or two when we actually open. I can make you something if you like?” He offers.

He thinks you’re homeless. Which, you are, technically. But he doesn’t recognize you. Perhaps you haven’t made the news yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.

You finally nod, climbing out of the dumpster bin and walking over to where he holds the door open for you.

You devour the sandwich he makes you, a simple ham and cheese on white bread, but it’s the best thing you’ve eaten in, well, a decade.

“How long have you been homeless for?”

“Are you from New York?”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“What’s your favorite band?”

So many questions come from the curious kid, kindness radiating from him. Casual conversation ensues, and you’re careful not to give too much away.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you swallow the last bit of sandwich.

“How do I get to Brooklyn from here?”

“You’re in Brooklyn, silly.” He responds and your eyes widen a bit, not thinking you’d get this lucky.

“Sorry, that came out kinda insensitive,” He apologizes, picking up your plate, “It’s not like you have a GPS or anything. Anywhere you’re trying to go in particular?”

You have a flash of a vision, Bucky sleeping soundly in his apartment, as the sun shines through in orange cracks in his blinds. Your mind envisions the building, where it is, what it looks like, and how you can get there. Why is your mind and body wanting to lead you to where Bucky is? If you’re trying to lay low, why does your vision want you to go to what’s the third most recognizable government figure in the country, after the President and Captain America?

“Uhm… to see a friend. I guess I wasn’t trying to go, but I have a lot of… free time now, so. Just don’t know what I’d say to him.” You tell the boy, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. You’re not looking forward to the rest of the day, or week, or month, or life.

“Why don’t you write a note? That’s what I do; when I don’t think I can say the right thing, I write it instead. I can give you some paper and an envelope.” He offers.

This kid has got to be my guardian angel personified, you think. What are the fucking odds?

“You should take it with you, though. I gotta open up soon, and I’m sure you don’t want to experience the morning rush of this place.” You read my mind.

“I’ll give you a change of clothes, too. Where’d you get that, anyway? Do you hang around dumpsters often? Is that one from a Halloween store?”

“Okay, that’s too much. You’ve already been so kind.” You refuse, ignoring the curious questions that shoot out of his mouth.

“Then don’t take it as me being kind, take it as me being mean. You smell like shit from that dumpster.”

You can’t help but laugh, and oh how good it feels. You never thought you’d laugh again, and here you are, giggling at being told you smell bad by some goth teenager.

Soon enough, you’re walking through the backways of buildings, in a crisp white t-shirt that smells of the cologne of a teenage boy, and note and envelope in hand. It takes you about forty five minutes to make it to Bucky’s apartment building, and it was only slightly less stressful that your walk out of that prison.

Through the glass door, you don’t see anyone at the front desk, so you open the door and step inside.

To your left you see a wall of mailboxes, and one large one at the bottom overflowing with letters and gifts. You take a wild guess and say that that one belongs to Bucky. You’ve heard he’s a pretty popular guy, along with the company he keeps.

You take the stairs to the eighth floor and the fourteenth room, hoping the 814 on that mailbox wasn’t random. You scribble out on your piece of paper, tearing it off and keeping the rest in case you need for another note in the future, or a snack. You bite at the blue bracelet on your wrist before it breaks and stick it in the envelope, tucking in the flap to close it.

You place it on the ground and silently press your ear to the door. You don’t hear him, but you hear the sound of the television, announcing your missing presence and the manhunt around the city. You take that as a cue to leave quickly.

Why you feel such a draw towards Bucky, you’re not sure, but for some reason, you have a feeling that leaving him this gift of sorts won’t come back to haunt you.

Perhaps it’ll even lead to the opposite.

[kazuharem]

“Out About on the Town” - HC [FLUFF]

Thanks so much to @in-a-world-of-my-own-invention for my first ever request! (So sorry this took so long to complete!) This was so much fun to brainstorm 💖💖

A/N: Basically these HCs each have 3 events. 1 is described in little detail, another is described in moderate detail, and the last one is described in great detail.I did try to make each guy about the same length. If I wrote all three events in great detail, I’d be writing fics lol (brace yourselves,-these are long) Also sorry if the last lines sound like karma lines RIP

Here are the boys being dragged around by MC~

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Gavin: "Memory Lane of the Youth”

(Ngl, this was the hardest for me to write for some reason, but I’m very satisfied with the results I think; thanks so much to @stehkotori for all the info/ideas on our favorite Birdcop ♡)

💫 The “Letters Through Time” segment that you did became a huge hit and Loveland TV want you to do a part two on favorite haunts of people from when they were young

💫 You finish your interviews and find that the favorite memories happen to be an old timey arcade in the middle of the city, an amusement park that had been open for several decades, and a cliff side park where people particularly enjoy stargazing

💫 You want to call Gavin to come with you, but hesitate, is he still on mission?

💫 Just when you make the decision to call him anyway, your phone rings. It’s Gavin and you almost hang up on him in surprise

💫 “Gavin! Are you back from your mission? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

💫 You hear Gavin laugh and your heart just swells “I just got back,” he tells you, his voice light, “It was a pretty easy mission this time. What’s up?”

💫 You tell Gavin about the show you’re shooting for “Do you have any free time? I’d like to ask you on a date for you to come with me. You were such a big help to me last time, and this excursion sounds like fun. If you’re not too tired, of course”

💫 He’s already in even before you asked “I’m free, where should I meet you?”

💫 You tell him the address of the arcade, intending to meet him there. Not even 5 minutes later, you hear the familiar roar of Sparky outside your apartment window. You run downstairs to meet him. “Gavin! Wha-”

💫 “Need a ride?” Gavin asks, leaning against Sparky. You eye him carefully and he smiles “I didn’t get hurt, I promise” You don’t believe him and inspect him carefully

💫 The two of you head to the arcade, your arms are wrapped around Gavin’s waist. It’s the first time in a while since you’ve felt free

💫 You arrive at the arcade and you gaze at the building, amazed. Despite its age, bright neon lights flashed continuously across its walls exactly how it did five years ago. Immediately, you pull out your camera and start snapping away. “It’s just like I remembered,” you say aloud, “I came here once with my friends.” Then you grab Gavin’s arm and pull him towards the entrance, “Come on! Might as well play some games”

💫 You go inside and an elderly man greets the two of you warmly “You’re welcome to play any of the games, just ask me for the tokens.” You look at the surroundings. There was Pac-Man, Galaga, Pinball, (wow hahaha I am old) and many more games of the past. Then you see a basketball machine and you spot a glint in Gavin’s eyes

💫 “Let’s go play basketball!” You suggest, remembering that Gavin loved to play basketball. You pass some bills to the elderly man and he gives you a handful of tokens. “Come on!” You hand Gavin some of the tokens, “I want to see you play”

💫 Gavin’s skills are unmatched, and you watch in admiration as he shoots ball after ball into the hoop. You snap a few pictures and the machine dinged

💫 “Young man,” the elderly owner says, awestruck, “You just beat the high score that no one has been able to in years”

💫 Gavin rubs his neck, a little embarrassed, “I just like it, that’s all” NAW homeboi was trying to impress you but also he is really good

💫 “Well you have some talent,” the old man says as you drop your unused tokens into a bowl, “Come back and play anytime”

💫 “Thank you so much!” You thank the owner for the interview and the two of you were on your way to the amusement park

💫 “I can’t believe this has been here all there years,” you marvel at the spinning rides, the Ferris wheel, and the carousel. “Now I can understand why this made it into the top spot for favorite haunts”

💫 For the rest of the day, you drag Gavin from ride to ride, taking pictures every chance you get

💫 It was twilight when the two of you get done with the amusement park. “What’s next?” Gavin asks

💫 You grin, “Our favorite pastime,” you blush a little at the word ‘our.’ Before he could ask, you blurt out the answer in excitement, “We’re going stargazing! And tonight’s perfect! Come on!”

💫 It’s quite a trek up to the cliff-side park, but Gavin is here and he has an arm around you, supporting you. The two of you hike up the mountain and the trail ends in a grassy meadow. Your mouth drop open, “It’s beautiful up here!” You exclaim, the tiny lights of the city seem so far way

💫 Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around so you and Gavin have the area to yourselves. Gavin settles himself on the grass and extends a hand towards you, “Come here”

💫 You sit and suddenly Gavin tugs on your hand, sending you flying into his chest. Your face flush instantly, “Gavin!”

💫 He laughs and you feel the sound rumble through his chest, warm and comforting, “We’re stargazing,” he reminds you and positions you so that you could comfortably look up at the sky. Your face turns a even brighter red, if possible

💫 You soon fall into a comfortable silence as the sky darkened to a inky black and slowly, twinkling stars start to appear

💫 “It really is beautiful,” you break the silence softly, wonder lacing your voice. Gavin makes a noise of agreement and he pulls you closer to him. “Gavin, I want to know about the constellations” you gently request

💫 And in his sure, soft voice, Gavin starts to name the constellations in the sky, pointing them out and telling you random facts

💫 You stretch your hand out towards the glittering background, “Don’t you ever wish you can just...reach out and grab them?” You ask softly, “Something about it makes me feel safe, like someone is watching over me”

💫 A calloused hand covers yours, the touch gentle, but you can feel the firm strength that you always associate with Gavin coursing through

💫 “The stars and I will always be there to protect you, no matter what”

Kiro: Night Market Expedition

(This isn’t exactly across the city, but MC does drag Kiro around. I thought it would be cute! This was loosely modeled after the Japanese Fireworks Festival, hanabi. This one is a little short - sorry!)

🎆 It’s summer and that means festivals galore! One of the key parts of the festival is the night market, full of food and quaint handicrafts. After the night market, there will be a fireworks show

🎆 You invite Kiro out since the two of you love to chow down his album recording wrapped and you thought he deserved a break. DON’T TELL SAVIN ABOUT THE FOOD

🎆 Kiro is super excited at the prospect of all that food getting the opportunity to spend time with you as well as being able to see the fireworks

🎆 He meets you at the bustling square in his typical disguise, a hat and black frames. The various vendors are already making food and delicious smells fill the air. Kiro is practically bouncing as you make your way to him. “Miss Chips! Are you ready for our food expedition tonight?”

🎆 “Yes!” You say as Kiro cheerfully wraps you in a hug as way of greeting

🎆 “What’s our plan of attack?” He ask as he surveys the sprawling vendors, cerulean eyes twinkling with anticipation

🎆 “I did some research,” you say as you pull out your phone, “I’ve narrowed it down to ‘Foods We Have to Try,’ and ‘Viral Foods.’ Where do you want to start?”

🎆 Kiro studies your list with intense concentration, “The King Takoyaki first,” he says finally

🎆 “That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You exclaim and Kiro sends a million-watt smile your way

🎆 “Just as I thought, Miss Chips and I are really connected!”

🎆 You pull out a map that you procured earlier and study it. “Let’s go!” You grab Kiro’s hand and pull him along to the vendor

🎆 Along the way, you can’t help but snap pictures of the various handicrafts that people are selling. Kiro asks if you want to stop and check some of these out

🎆 “Later! We’re here to eat first,” you pull Kiro along, with nothing but your destination in mind. You arrive in front of the “King Takoyaki” stand. You and Kiro share a gleam with excitement and order 2 takoyaki

🎆 Kiro is about to take a bite when you stop him, “I need to take pictures first!” He laughs and grabs your phone

🎆 “Miss Chips, let’s take one together!” He pulls you closer to him and holds up his takoyaki, grinning at the camera

🎆 He takes a picture of you two, grinning goofily with your takoyaki

🎆 “Ready? On 3, 2,1!” The two of you bite into the savory ball. 

🎆 “Mmm!” Kiro wriggles with delight. You laugh and sneak a picture of him when he’s not looking. “Oh this is so good! Good call, Miss Chips!” He high fives you, “What’s next?

🎆 You look at each other, “Ringo-Ame!” [apple coated in crunchy sugar candy] Both of you say in unison and the two of you break out into a fit of merry laughter

🎆 “Come on!” You say, tugging on Kiro’s arm. “I think I saw it earlier.” You lead the way amidst the bustling vendors and stop in front of a little cart filled with bright red glossy apples on sticks

🎆 You pause to take some pictures. “Here!” You turn towards Kiro’s voice and suddenly your mouth is filled with a sweet tanginess

🎆 Kiro grins, “Is it good?” You nod as you chew and Kiro laughs aloud. His laugh is bright and carefree; it makes you smile as well

🎆 “We’re supposed to eat it together,” you mumble when you finally finish chewing

🎆 Kiro hands you an apple on a stick, “Then it’s your turn to feed me!” He opens his mouth wide and you stick the apple in his mouth. “Just as I predicted, whatever Miss Chips feed me is unbelievably delicious!” His voice is a little muffled

🎆 You put your hands on your waist and pretend to glare, “Of course! I only introduce you to good food, you know!”

🎆 Kiro smiles and it’s infectious. Your lips tug up in an answering grin

🎆 The two of you go from stall to stall, sampling various foods when suddenly you hear a commotion near the river

🎆 “The fireworks!” You exclaim, “They must be starting! Let’s go!” You grab Kiro’s hand and pull him towards the crowd. Everyone is congregating on the banks of the river, getting ready for the fireworks show

🎆 You manage to find an empty spot a little ways from the crowd. After all, you didn’t want Kiro to be mobbed

🎆 The two of you sit and wait. Kiro pulls you close and there is a thunderous BOOM!

🎆 The sky bursts into dazzling colors and the crowd oohs

🎆 “So pretty!” you shout to Kiro over the noise. He nods, staring at the colorful bursts. You steal a glance at him. The various colors and flashes from the fireworks throws different colors across his face, and you forget to breathe for a moment. Kiro looks ethereal

🎆 Kiro glances at you and your eyes meet. You can feel the ever present warmth emanating from his bright blue eyes and it warms you all over. He pulls you even closer to him. “What are you looking at?” He asks loudly

🎆 You smile and press your lips against his ear, “I was just thinking, that just now you looked like you do on stage. With the lights flashing, only right now the stage lights are replaced with fireworks. A true idol, bringing light to his fans,” you say, speaking from the heart

🎆 He gazes tenderly at you for a moment and then leans down to whisper in your ear, just like you had with him, breath ghosting over your ear,

🎆 “But to me, Miss Chips is my light, she outshines even the most beautiful of fireworks”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Lucien + Victor under the cut

Lucien: Cherry Blossom Tour

(FYI contains traces of Blossom Date-my Lucien creative juices has been used up by writing my other fic lol. NOTE: What I tried to write here is basically hanami aka a Japanese tradition of viewing cherry blossoms and eating/drinking. Also, this might be a bit biased oops)

🌸 It’s springtime and cherry blossoms are finally in season! 

🌸 Cherry blossom themed everything have been popping up everywhere. Cafés, bakeries, ice cream shops, you name it. It’s the perfect time for couples to go out and enjoy spring under the cover of pink and white

🌸 You have been working nonstop for days and you were getting a little jealous at all the cute desserts that your coworkers posted on their social medias. This weekend, you finally have the day off and you want to go see the cherry blossoms before they’re all gone

🌸 You invite Lucien, and he readily agrees. He has been waiting for your invitation

🌸 He shows up in front of your door at 10am on the dot, dressed in a cozy white sweater with a black overcoat. “What’s the itinerary for today?”

🌸 You grab his hand and excitedly show him pictures on your phone. “So Kiki recommended this café and she said that the sakura latte is a must try! Also, afterwards, maybe we can go to this bakery! The mochi there looks so cute! And then after the bakery, we can go to this spot. I heard it’s the best place in the city for cherry blossom viewing!”

🌸 Lucien smiles as he lets you pull him along and ramble about all the places you want to see. “Slow down, silly girl, we have all the time in the world to see everything you’re interested in”

🌸 The two of you get to the café and settle down in a booth near the window. You eagerly order the sakura latte, Lucien orders the cherry blossom tea. As you wait for your drinks, the two of you chat casually about work. With Lucien around, the conversation is never dry, no matter how boring the topic

🌸 Your drinks arrive and Lucien waits expectantly, knowing that you wanted to take pictures. You quickly snap a few pictures of the pretty drinks and upload them onto your social media with the caption “Trying this for the first time!”

🌸 You take a sip carefully and Lucien watches with amusement. “Is it sweet?” You nod happily. Lucien chuckles, “Silly girl, you got foam all over your mouth”

🌸 Before you can grab a napkin, Lucien tenderly swipes his thumb across your lips. In the blink of an eye, his tongue darts out, catlike, to taste the foam on his finger. “You’re right, it is sweet,” he grins at your shell shocked face

🌸 LUCIEN CAn YoU nOT

🌸 After you recover from ProfessorSmooth Lucien’s antics, you finish your drinks and head over to the bakery to try the special sakura mochi

🌸 “Welcome! For today, we are having a lovers’ special! For every couple, we are giving them 2 free sakura mochi with the purchase of the special couple cherry blossom waffle set!” The cashier greets you cheerfully

🌸 “Er...” You are flustered

🌸 “We’ll take it,” Lucien answers for you as he wraps a arm around you, smiling politely at the cashier

🌸 Smooooooooooth

🌸 You collect your food and you once again take pictures of the delicate desserts

🌸 Lucien waits patiently until you’ve set your phone down and offers you a bite of the mochi. You close your eyes in delight as the fragrant taste spreads through your mouth and Lucien chuckles. “Good?”

🌸 You nod as you open your eyes to find Lucien gazing at you in adoration. Blushing, you move to return the favor and his grin widens

🌸 After finishing the desserts, you bring Lucien to the park where you can see couples setting up blankets underneath the pink blooms

🌸 “Careful,” Lucien warns as the two of you navigate through the crowd

🌸 You sigh, “I didn’t expect there to be this many people. There aren’t any open spots!”

🌸 “Look over there,” Lucien directs your attention to a little grove hidden a ways from the bustling crowd, “I think there might be some cherry blossom trees in there, would you like to check it out?”

🌸 You walk towards the grove and glance at the crowds behind you. They didn’t seem to be interested. The trees part to reveal a little clearing in which five cherry blossom trees sat undisturbed, branches laden with faint pink blossoms. You gasp in delight. “Lucien, how did you know these were here?”

🌸 He shakes his head, smiling, “I didn’t. I think we just happened to be lucky” WhAt a CoINcIdEnCe

🌸 You run up to the gently swaying trees, eagerly taking pictures. “It’s really so beautiful!” You gush

🌸 “Yes,” Lucien murmurs, but he’s gazing at you, “Truly beautiful” You don’t notice RIP

🌸 “Did you know that cherry blossoms are the embodiment of mortality?” He suddenly inquires after a moment. You look at him, a little startled by the topic. Oops here comes a lecture by Professor Lucien. He smiles as to reassure you and continues, “The Japanese Samurai believed in this principle to appreciate the inevitability of death without fearing it. This was carried over by the Japanese pilots during World War II who painted their kamikaze warplanes with cherry blossoms before embarking on suicide missions to ‘die like beautiful falling cherry petals for the emperor.’ It’s a beautiful contrast, isn’t it?”

🌸 You look at the delicate blossoms thoughtfully, “Yes, but you forget that cherry blossoms also embody spring,” you say quietly. “Spring and rebirth goes synchronously with cherry blossoms. The Japanese also worshipped these cherry blossom trees in the spring to grant them a bountiful harvest. So even though they are fleeting, they teach us to appreciate the fleeting moments in life and admire their beauty”

🌸 Lucien stills, “Indeed,” his dark eyes are on you, ever so unreadable, but you detect a faint fondness within those violet pupils

LOL this was my attempt to write a scholarly scene like the one they exchanged during the Blossom Date in the Chinese server EPIC FAIL RIP

🌸 You smile at him, “So instead being sad about these fleeting moments, shouldn’t we be happy that we get to see such beautiful blooms?”

🌸 “Yes,” he answers and his voice is a little thick with emotion

🌸 “These moments spent with you, no matter how fleeting, will always be beautiful”

Victor: Hidden and Exotic Foodie Gems Across Town

(Count how many times Victor calls you “Idiot” or “Dummy”)

🍽 You’re doing a segment on undiscovered food joints around town

🍽 You ask Victor to join you since he’s a chef he owns Souvenir (one of the original hidden gems)

🍽 Doesn’t want to (“Dummy, just interview Mr. Mills and film it at Souvenir”)

🍽 You explain that since you already covered Souvenir, people want to see new content and new restaurants

🍽 Dummy “I’m busy”

🍽 A little disappointed, you say you’ll go invite Lucien someone else

🍽 Are you an idiot “Goldman, cancel all my appointments for today” (GiVe GoLdMaN a RaIsE) “Which restaurants are we going to?”

🍽 You excitedly show him a list of restaurants which includes a restaurant that has a soup dumpling recipe spanning over five generations, another which all their ingredients come from their home farm, and another restaurant which promises a unique sensory experience like no other. “So I was thinking having soup dumplings for breakfast, then the farm-to-table place for lunch, and then finally the multi-sensory restaurant wrapping it up for dinner!” You ramble, not noticing Victor sitting at his desk watching you, a small smile playing around his lips

🍽 “Dummy, so are we going to get going or not?” He interrupts you, “I do have a company to run, you know”

🍽 “Let’s go!” You cheer, pulling Victor from his desk. He refuses to admit that your enthusiasm is infectious

🍽 The soup dumpling place is located in the older part of the city and you’re entranced by the architecture of the buildings and quaint cobblestone streets. You take pictures of everything. Victor rolls his eyes, but secretly he’s smiling on the inside. Seeing you excited, he couldn’t help but feel the tingle of excitement as well

🍽 The dumplings were delicious and you captured everything with your camera, even stopping Victor from eating in order to take that perfect shot

🍽 Dummy “You’re not running a food blog”

🍽 After breakfast, you inform Victor that the next restaurant is up in the mountains. His brows crease. “Are you going to drag me all over the city?” Yup

🍽 “These are the restaurants the viewers want to see most,” you tell him as you trek up the picturesque trail through the woods

🍽 Dummy “Watch where you’re going”

🍽 You don’t listen to him as you continue yammering away and taking pictures. You don’t notice how Victor is watching you intently to make sure you don’t trip over a tree root or smack into a branch

🍽 Suddenly your foot misses a step and Victor grabs your arm before you could fall. Your momentum propels you into his hard chest. You hear a sigh above your head, “Didn’t I just say to watch your step?”

🍽 “My oh my, what a lovely couple!” You hear a cheerful voice say before you can retort. Victor lets you go carefully, still holding onto your arm. You both turn to find a little old lady smiling at you

🍽 “Hi!” You break away from Victor, a little flustered. You introduce yourself to the woman and your reason for coming. She warmly welcomes you guys into the restaurant

🍽 “Would you like to see the farm first?” She asks and your eyes light up. You look at Victor. He coughs

🍽 “You know, you don’t need to ask for my permission,” he says, rolling his eyes

🍽 “The two of you are so sweet,” the lady coos as she leads you guys to the farm 

🍽 The two of you spend a lovely afternoon, eating the freshest ingredients. You ask the lady many questions about her restaurant until you feel like you got enough material. There were many pictures taken

🍽 By the time you guys leave the farm, the sun is just starting to set. “Perfect timing!” You beam up at Victor, “I can’t wait for the multi-sensory experience”

🍽 Idiot “You’ve done nothing except eat all day. How can food excite you to this extent?”

🍽 “It’s the experience, not the food,” you tell him, waiting as the two of you arrive before a nondescript steel door. “And...it’s who I’m with,” you add, more softly as your cheeks redden. The door swings open then, saving you the embarrassment

🍽 The two of you are blindfolded, with earplugs in. You hold on tight to Victor’s hand as a server leads you two inside. You are gently directed to sit down and a hand removes your blindfold. You blink, eyes adjusting to the light and then you gasp. Multiple lights in a wide array of colors are projecting lazily onto the walls and table. Soft music play in time to the revolving lights. “Wow!” You exclaim in delight

🍽 “I see that it doesn’t take much to impress you,” Victor says quietly and you turn your head just in time to see a soft smile across his lips

🍽 You stare at him because did Victor just smile? And he sighs, “If you keep ogling at me, you’re going to miss the show”

🍽 Show? You’re about to ask when suddenly the music stops and the room darkens. There is a blast of fanfare and lights explode. You smell something absolutely fragrant and your server enters the room. 

🍽 For the rest of your meal, every course is paired with a matching scent as the lights dance to the music. Your senses are completely assaulted. You miss Victor smiling at the way you eagerly scarf everything down

🍽 At the end, the music quietens and the lights dim. You put down your utensils and turn to Victor happily. He’s looking at you with something inexplicably soft in his eyes. You blush, feeling self-conscious. “Wh-why are you looking at me?”

🍽 “You have sauce on your face, dummy,” he says without skipping a beat. VICTOR, CAN YOU NOT

🍽 You pout at him, after wiping your mouth. “So...you didn’t enjoy it?” You ask quietly. You can’t help but feel hurt, and you wonder if you had wasted an entire day of Victor’s busy schedule

🍽 There is a sigh and Victor reaches for you, pulling you close and you tumble into his lap. GUYS, YOU ARE STILL IN A RESTAURANT

🍽 “That’s not it, dummy,” You hear him sigh and then-

🍽 “I’ll always enjoy the time spent with you. That time is never wasted, as long as it’s with you” 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

See I can write fluff sometimes, it’s not just angst all the time and not smut 😅 Wow this ended up being longer than I had previously planned to be. They turned out to be like minifics whatttt rip i’m sorry (Also there were some technical issues-forgot to save) 😓 But I hope that this was what you had in mind! Hopefully I got the characterizations of the boys right!💖

Requests are open!

For more of my work: 📖

[juuten]

Hey, I really like your works! I'd love to have a drabble or a scenario with Juza, please. With a topic of confession, please. Would be nice if a bike ride would be included. Should I be more specific or that would be enough? Thank you in advance!

Thank you for liking my works, and more importantly, for your immense patience! I'm really really sorry that I only finished the story now, anon 😥 I had an immense writer's block + I dealt with a lot of problems. So if you saw me reblogging posts, it was one of my ways to cope with them.

Anyway, I assumed that the bike you're referring to is Juza's motorbike. You may correct me by all means.

I hope you enjoy reading this! ❤

Bathed in Purple and Orange | Juza Hyodo

Sitting on a bench near the convenience store, you swung your feet with a smile on your face. There were countless places that you and your friend can potentially go. They were usually food shops, but each of them has a different thing to offer. Nevertheless, those places always complimented his and your taste buds (literally and figuratively). You grinned. What adventure awaited both of you today?

Your ears perked up when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you. You looked at your side and saw your friend.

Your eyes widened at the view before you. Juza riding a motorbike amplified his manly and strong aura. 

You jogged towards him, inspecting his new vehicle. While doing so, you sneaked in a few glances on Juza’s form. "You got a motorbike now. Congrats!"

"Thanks," Juza said through his helmet. "But sorry for bein' late."

You shook your head. "It's fine. Now that you have a motorbike, we can visit more places!"

You quickly opened your map app on your phone, searching for places that you two have yet to explore. Suddenly, Juza called your name.

You looked up, tilting your head. "What is it?"

Juza paused for a while before saying, "I wanna take you somewhere."

You blinked. "Eh?”

He looked down on the bricked floor. "'Is fine if you don't wanna."

You immediately shook your head. You would always take the opportunity to go with Juza. But more importantly, you felt that this place was something special to your friend; he rarely initiates to go somewhere without you knowing. Not that you mind, but it filled you with curiosity.

"I would love to go with you, Juza."

"Wear this." He offered you the spare helmet that sat on the passenger's seat.

"Thanks." You accepted the helmet. You put it on your head. With deft hands, you quickly locked the straps of your helmet under your chin.

"You can sit here." Juza patted the spot closely behind him.

You nodded, sitting at the spot. Then you blushed as you realized - you were one centimeter away from Juza's back. Your eyes traced the creases on his shirt. They convinced you (again) that a muscled body was waiting underneath the cloth. You had the urge to wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his muscular back. A warm feeling bloomed inside you. Then you furiously shook your head, gripping the seat until your knuckles turned white. 

‘Control yourself, (First Name). Control.’

Juza looked at you over his shoulder. "You ready?"

"Y-yeah!” You shot him a sheepish smile.

Juza intently stared at you, making you clear your throat. He muttered an apology before saying, "Grip on me."

Your eyes widened. "What?”

Realizing what he said, Juza quickly whipped his head to the front to cover his blush. "You can, uh, use me as support. 's safer."

“Oh… Thanks, Juza,” you said as you shifted closer to him. Then you gently wrapped your arms around his torso. You tried to hold back from squealing as you felt his abs contracting.

"We'll go now." Juza stepped on the pedal, dashing off towards the road.

You tightened your grip on the man, burying your head on his back. With this speed, you could fall off at every moment. 

Juza almost stepped on the breaks when he felt your arms tightening. He might have stumbled off the bike as he felt your breath on your back. His heart was thumping on his chest. One little movement of yours, he might explode. Juza deeply breathed before exhaling. He needed to calm down, or else both of you may be caught up in an accident.

"You okay, (First Name)?" Juza hoped that you did not notice the tremble in his voice.

You nodded. "I just can't open my eyes due to the speed!"

"Sorry ‘bout that." He slowly decreased the speed of his motorbike.

You slowly opened your eyes, letting out a gasp as you saw the scenery before you. The city looked glorious as the sun enveloped the buildings across with orange. The trees that danced with the wind looked more mesmerizing as the warm color highlighted their features. Overall, the scenery felt solemn, peaceful even. You unconsciously shifted closer to Juza, turning your head sideways to appreciate the beauty the sun gave you through out the ride.

Time seemed to flow fast; Juza already slowed down until the engine came to a stop.

"We're here," Juza said as he parked his motorbike on the side.

You unbuckled your helmet and landed down on the grass, resulting in a crunchy sound. You let out a breath as you saw the river. It flowed endlessly and calmly, with its waters reflecting the hues of the sunset. But what made the scene serene was the absence of vehicles that relentlessly honked. The bridge was far away from you two, after all.

You slowly walked until you reached the edge of the grass-filled land. Then you plopped yourself on the grass with your feet dangling.

"This is nice! It's a peaceful spot," you said as Juza sat beside you.

"Yeah." Then he faced forward, staring at the river. "...I always played catch with my little bro here.”

"He likes baseball, then?" He nodded at that.

You aimlessly swung your feet. "Now that we’re talking about him, what's your baby bro like?"

"He's very kind and caring. He also gets along with people. Kumon is... a ray of sunshine." A soft smile bloomed on his lips. His eyes became so gentle and filled with love, the piercing gaze he always has dissipated. "No... he may be the sun itself."

Your eyes softened. “You love him very much.”

"Yeah. Unlike me, everyone loves him. But for some reason, Kumon likes me a lot," Juza mumbled the last statement.

Your brows scrunched up. "You're such an admirable person, Juza. You always wanted to protect the people you love. It may be in a rough way, but your baby bro saw through that. That's why I understand why he likes you so much."

"And..." you breathed in. You wanted to point out every reason why you appreciated him - from his scarred hands to his love for sweets. You wanted to tell him that you will always be beside him, supporting him. 

You wanted to say how precious he was for you even though he thought otherwise.

Your affection for this man beside you quickly filled your heart. You touched his arm, gently caressing its muscles with your thumb. Juza turned to you, a confused expression on his face. Before you could stop your lips, the words fluttered out of your mouth, "That's why I like you ever since - as a friend and as a man."

You felt Juza stiffen. Your heart rapidly pounded as you waited for his answer. Seconds of silence only passed, but it felt like your time sped up. It felt like Juza would not reply to you soon as he did not move an inch. You let go of his arm. Somehow, your eyes already knew the answer. You rapidly blinked for the tears not to slip, but the regret bubbling inside you let them escape. If you had controlled your emotions, this would not happen. You had created a horrible memory that ruined the sacredness of this place. 

You sniffed. “Sorry.“

“No.” Juza scratched his head. “I just… didn't know how to react. ‘Is all.”

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. “…I see.” 

“But… I like you too,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. 

You blinked. Even though you did not hear it clearly, the tinge of pink appearing on his tan cheeks told you his answer. “You… like me too?” 

He nodded with his eyes staring at anything other than you. But you did not mind. The relief made you exhale as if you trapped an excessive amount of air in your lungs.

Then silence surrounded both of you. It was not an awkward one; it was a silence that blended with the comfort of the scenery and the relief of knowing that the man you hold so much affection for liked you.

You locked your pinky finger with his pinky, not noticing how the pink on his cheeks darkened. As if the sun gave its blessing, it slowly set, bathing the both of you in gradients of purple and orange.

[we-are-inevitable]

not moving on, not looking back // ch. 3

A/N: AHHH HES HERE !!! 

Tag List: @tarantulas4davey (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Read on AO3!

***

He's about five minutes early, but that's fine, right? Yeah. David raises his fist and knocks on the door.

Just a few moments later, the door opens, and David grins. “Hi, Ka-- Oh, you're... not Katherine.”

The first day is actually a lot better than David thought it would be. His kids are all pretty chill about him being the new teacher, and they all cooperated well and let him know exactly where they were and what they needed to be doing. It was a nice change of pace from the class he used to teach back in New York, which was all so fast and strict, but this is much more subdued. David loves it already, but he’s thankful it’s over; it’s been a long day, and right now, he just wants to go home and relax for a few moments before he gets ready for dinner with the Kelly’s.

Once home, which he arrives at around 4:15, David changes into something a bit more casual- a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a light blue flannel that he leaves unbuttoned. The sleeves are shorter on this one, just barely to his upper arm, but he still rolls the sleeves up to his shoulder. David sees no point in dressing up particularly ‘fancy’ for this dinner; he’s 26, and Katherine seems to be around his age as well, so it isn’t like he needs to impress any actual professional adults.

David waits until about 5:30 to leave his place. According to Google Maps, Katherine’s house is about a twenty minute walk away from his own, but that's fine with David. He walked everywhere in the city, and he’s looking forward to the stroll. On his way there, David takes in everything he can: the color of the trees changing, the crunchy leaves beneath his brown boots, the crisp autumn air. He can get used to this feeling. It feels… nice. It isn’t rushed.

Maybe Tarrytown isn’t such a bad place after all.

David tilts his head to the side as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, looking down at the address. He checks the number on the mailbox and nods to himself, rubbing his arm as he walks up the driveway. The house isn’t huge, but it’s two stories. It looks historical. Colonial. He takes a deep breath and checks his watch. He's about five minutes early, but that's fine, right? Yeah. David raises his fist and knocks on the door.

Just a few moments later, the door opens, and David grins. “Hi, Ka-- Oh, you're... not Katherine.”

No, no. The man standing in front of him is most definitely not Katherine, but David isn’t exactly upset at the mixup. This guy is hot. He has a square jaw, tan skin, dark brown eyes, and perfectly messy hair- which is wavy and kind of long, coming just a few inches above his shoulders. He's a few inches shorter than David, too, but he seems pretty strong, especially since the shirt he's wearing- some college t-shirt- is perfectly tight in all the right places and, wow, David has never felt more homosexual. Someone call 911. Cause of death: hot guy.

The man standing in front of David raises a brow, then glances him over. “Nah, I ain’t Katherine. Who're you?”

Oh, fuck, his voice is deep. David isn't going to make it through dinner. “Uh-- Heh, David Jacobs, I work with Katherine… She, um, invited me. To dinner. Unless I have the wrong place--”

“David!” Katherine calls out, and he sees her rush out of the kitchen. She looks different outside of school- her hair is tied low, her bangs are swept to the side and held by a few pins, and she’s wearing a pair of mom jeans and a simple white turtleneck. She looks almost unrecognizable outside of her professional clothes. “Gosh, I’m so glad you’re here! This is my husband, Jack. Jack, this is David Jacobs. He just moved into town. Took Mrs. Ingram’s job, remember?”

“Mrs. Ingram got fired?” Jack asks under his breath with a confused expression, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to David. “Come on in, man.”

David nods slowly, taking a step into the house. It’s cute- there’s a fireplace, a big leather couch, and a nice little coffee table. A shelf lines the wall in the back of the room, with books and little knickknacks, as well as a few plants here and there. The living room was spacious, connected to a staircase that led upstairs. Everything is lit up inside, and it feels… bright. It feels homey. “You’re both really good at interior design,” David comments idly, but doesn’t miss the weird look that Jack shoots Katherine.

“Thank you! I got a lot of this stuff at TJ Maxx,” Katherine admits with a grin, before leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss Jack’s cheek. “You boys have fun, alright? I’m gonna go work on dinner.”

Just a few moments pass until Jack and David are alone. Jack looks at David with a curious expression, before gesturing for David to follow him. He walks to the living room and plops down on the couch, turning the volume on the TV down. “You’re the gay one, right?”

David sputters for a moment as he sits down, before nodding. “Yeah? Listen, if you have a problem with-”

“No, hey, it’s cool! I was just wondering. Calm down, man,” Jack shoots him a kind smile. “Want a beer?”

“No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Jack says with a grin, then leans forward, grabbing his can of Bud Light and taking a sip. His eyes are on the TV, and as soon as the commercials turn off, Jack turns the volume back up. It isn’t very loud- probably because David is there- but Jack seems entranced by what was on the screen.

David turns to face it, and has to hold in a sigh as he sees a football game being played. Of course. David doesn’t know what else he was expecting. Slowly, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, scrolling through his Twitter timeline for a few minutes before hearing a chuckle from beside him. “What, is football boring to you or somethin’?”

“Huh?” David glances over at Jack, who seems to be studying him. “Oh-- Sorry, no, I just don’t get how it’s played,” David admits, hurriedly shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“What do you mean, you don’t get how it’s played?” Jack asks with a bewildered look, then scoffs. “I mean, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t watch football. You’re still a dude, right?”

David shoots Jack a look. “Are you serious right now?”

“Right, sorry. I- I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. That won’t happen again,” Jack cringes, before leaning forward. “I just… Who ever said football is for beer-guzzling troglodytes in trailer parks? We scholars, you and I, can enjoy this on a whole other level!”

“Scholars?” David asks with a tilt of his head.

Jack makes a noncommittal gesture, but Katherine chimes in from the kitchen. “He’s a history professor down at Mercy!” She brags cheerfully, which causes Jack to shake his head. 

“That- That isn’t important right now. What’s important is that you know football basics when you leave my house tonight,” Jack says with a smirk, moving closer. He wraps his arm around David’s shoulder- clearly, he isn't averse to physical contact- then points toward the screen. “Look, first you got your two teams. Yeah? There’s a coin toss to begin the game. Both teams really wanna win tonight, it’s a big game, so this is gonna be intense. The coach assigns a starter and, boom, the game starts with kickoff. And…" Jack pauses, watching the action on the screen, before letting out a subdued cheer with a raised fist. "We’re four downs to the ten-yard line! Ya follow?”

“Uh…”  David really wants to speak, but Jack’s arm is still around him like that and, wow, it’s kind of hard to think. This was just a silly little attraction to Katherine’s hot husband, though, nothing worse than that. 

The rest of the first quarter goes just like that. Jack explains everything he can to David about the inner workings of the game. He’s so goddamn passionate about it, and David really has to concentrate in order to even hear what he’s saying. He’s talking, he’s saying all of this information that he knew by heart, but all David can focus on is his voice.

“Davey, dude, you’re missing the game!”

David blinks and comes back to reality for a moment. He nods and looks back at the screen, a soft blush rising to his cheeks. “Right. Okay. Focus on the fine men.”

“The offensive linemen?”

“Have you seen number 49? I said what I said.”

“Right,” Jack says with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Whatever. Choose your valentine, but let me have my game in peace.”

“Why else do people watch this stuff?” David asks with a soft laugh, smiling at Jack, and Jack smiles back and wow, David’s heart stops for a second. “When’s the intermission?”

“Inter-- What, you need a glass of wine?” Jack teases and gently nudges David’s shoulder. “God, ya kill me, Dave,” Jack murmurs, turning to face him. Their eyes lock for one, two, three seconds, before Jack tears his gaze away and focuses on the screen. “Glad you’re at least enjoyin’ yourself.”

“Me too,” David admits softly, turning back to face the TV. An awkward silence falls over them, until David slowly speaks up. “It isn’t as boring as I thought it was.”

“Huh?” Jack glances over at him, then chuckles. “Aww, you like football now?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” David clarifies, “but it was entertaining. Better than what I watched in high school, at least. I was in the marching band. Drumline.”

Jack shoots him a toothy grin, and looks as though he was about to speak until Katherine’s voice sounds from the kitchen. “Jack, David, dinner’s ready!”

[stayathomesim]

Bob’s Pancakes

Introducing the result of my day of getting reacquainted with PSP: a box of pancake mix clutter!

OMG you guys, I crack myself up. 😂😂😂

100% Whole Grain, Protein Packed Bob’s Pancakes mix is made from whole, organic, non-GMO ingredients and packaged in a very recyclable box!  Put it on your pantry shelf or leave it on your counter for everyone to admire.  It will just sit there with its lid so coolly and casually ajar, tempting you to open it and make more.  Bob.  He knows Pancakes.

Original mesh, recoloring ok with mesh link

Outdoor Retreat maaaaybe required?  I edited a mesh from that pack. 🤷‍♀️

Clutter sort, $25

Download here (SFS)

Rambling below

So with learning new things I tend to jump headfirst into them.  Such as making screens for porches and baskets full of stacks of cloth and baseball caps for kids.  But then because they’re more complicated projects and I know nothing, I run into more issues like not knowing how to change shaders or even what a shader was until then, being overwhelmed by UV mapping a frankenmesh, and that inverse hat chop problem...

So I started off small!  I thought to myself, I’ll make an object that is a cube.  I can UV map a cube!  But what would I make from a cube?

You know, one of my million WIPs is “Crunchy Mom Stuff” because for realz, the game and available CC is lacking in stacks of cloth diapers and accessories,  and all kinds of other things all over my house.

Such as pancake mix?  I make almost everything from scratch, but ain’t nobody got time to make pancake/waffle mix in the morning so I like to use Kodiak Cakes mix.

And, ta-da, Bob’s Pancakes was created.

And I can’t stop laughing to myself at it even though it’s 8:45pm and 2 kids are in bed and 1 WON’T GO TO SLEEP and it’s been a long day.

I learned some good stuff through this process.  I’ll spare all the details, but it involved shadow meshes.  Sounds ominous.  Is not.