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jodilin65 · 19 years ago

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MONDAY, JANUARY 31, 2005 Tomorrow should be a good day for Paula, despite the shitty weather they’ve been having there. She should get her package.

I wonder if I’ll hear from Tina. It would be kind of rude and ungrateful to not at least get a ‘thank you’ note, but if I don’t, I don’t.

Later…

I check every now and then to satisfy my curiosity as to what’s going on with Mary’s case, but there are never any new updates that I can find. I know our justice system is fucked up and that things tend to move awfully slow when it comes to the courts, but I can’t believe she’s still sitting in jail with apparently nothing going on! I couldn’t even find any upcoming court dates mentioned. Maybe the vibe I had of her getting out in the fall of this year was way off. Maybe she’ll sit in jail waiting forever for this case to close!

It seems we’ve traded places, Bev and I. Now she’s the one out more. I just haven’t had any place to go, or better yet, any money. So broke. Always, always broke! Where will we be in a year from now?

Poor.

In 2 years from now?

Poor.

In 5 years?

Poor.

In 20?

Poor. Always poor.

It’s funny how much I’ve gained in the time I’ve been out of jail, despite how much I’ve lost as well, and what with how broke we always are. I sure got a lot of MP3s, dolls and other things since then, even if I ended up not liking some of the dolls. And look how much my writing has improved since then.

We managed to get through all of January without the animals next door, but I’m sure they’ll be back sometime during our remaining 89 days here.

I’ll miss some things about the duplex itself. The bedroom’s so much better for daytime sleeping than the Maricopa one was. On sunny days it’s darker than the Maricopa one was on its gloomiest days.

Tom sent for a brochure on Redding, yet it didn’t tell us much about living there. It was basically a tourist brochure for the rich. We certainly could never afford to rent a houseboat on a lake at a resort.

Since I’m 100% sure I’m not going to lose any more weight, unless I miraculously get the willpower to deal with the never-ending hunger, I’m not going to chart my weight on a daily basis, just weekly. And it’ll be to maintain my weight only since I can’t lose. I just try to look at the bright side of keeping the weight. Sure I’d look better if I lost it and rocking would be easier and my clothes would fit better, but with the extra weight, it may make handling the doll easier, even if she’s still years away. It should also help when the next Tami of Valleyhead or Bonny of Woodside Terrace or Barbara of Norwich or Nancy of jail goes to threaten me. I’m not holding back no matter how much of a hold they may have on me, let alone weight, height, strength and experience. Even if I was sure to be beaten to a bloody pulp, the point will be that I stood up for myself and up to them as well.

I realized something that made me wish my hair was completely gray, as funny as that may sound. If it were gray, I’d have a wider variety of color selections to dye it with. Right now I’d have to bleach and strip it to get it blond or even a light golden brown, though I doubt I’d want to have my hair those colors. I could redden it easier and even do some far-out colors like pink, purple and blue if it were lighter to begin with.

As much as I thoroughly believe Michael Jackson is as guilty of child molestation as charged, I don’t see why they even bother to drag the little pedophile into court. The rich, black male is sure to get off, not just because he is a rich, male and black, but because of the riot, they’d certainly have on their hands if he didn’t. Blacks are such sore losers, though they shouldn’t give in to their immature tantrums just because they can’t handle it when a famous black person is made to pay for their crime. We’ve got to take a stand against them and show them they can’t always get their way. Nobody always gets their way, and why they ever thought they should be any different, beats me.

To keep my fragrances special and so as not to get too used to any of them, I’ve paired them up. I’ll rotate between two scents each day, and right now I have 24. Today’s Patchouli and Sugar Plum day. Tomorrow will be Hazelnut and Gingerbread.

People sure do jump the gun on the holidays here. Valentine’s Day is two weeks away yet they already have these Valentine’s theme music stations on Yahoo.

Later…

I did hear back from Tina, after all, though all I got was a 5-dollar bill. No note or anything else. That’s cool, though, as money is more needed than notes. I didn’t specifically ask for money, but I mentioned that the incense normally sells for $1 and the burner for $4. I’d have added a ‘thank you’ note and been generous enough to send $10 for postage and just for remembering and taking the time to send it, but any bit we can get helps.

Tom says there may not have been a note because she may’ve not wanted the incense and therefore, she grudgingly paid for it. No, she wanted it. If there’s anything personal that prevented her from enclosing a note, it’s that she didn’t make $650 off of us.

I decided to end my pairs game because I get sick of having the same two scents going all day and I get to missing the other scents. I’d rather just burn what I’m in the mood to burn until that scent runs out.

Bob said the Bump & Grind oil came in today, but his supplier missed the White Shoulders. Figures, huh? If I’d ordered any other scent; that’s the one they’d have missed. Due to an awesome thing I learned about SOS, I asked Bob if the White Shoulders was made from the exact same oil as the incense oil, which I thought was way off. If it is, I asked that he substitute it for Hugo Boss or Patchouli, which costs the same. Whatever body oil he sends, I told him he could hold it till he has everything in stock.

What I learned from SOS is that there are two different grades of oil yet they cost the same - manufacturers and cosmetics. With the cosmetic, it’s not only good for burners but as body oil, too! I’m definitely determined to switch from sticks to oils due to the residue the sticks leave. My monitor looks like it did when I smoked.

I’ve been doing regular checks on Redding’s temperatures. It seems like it may be warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer which makes me fear it may be noisy. If we can get some space and some trees between the neighbors, a little noise may be worth it because I’m already sick to death of winter. Winters here may not be like back east, but they’re bad enough. So as long as every yard doesn’t have a dog left outside to bark 24/7, and the driveway closest to ours doesn’t have a basketball hoop, it may be an ideal place to go. There’d be more job opportunities for Tom, too.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 2005 If I were doing this diet to lose weight, yesterday’s setback would’ve had me pissed enough to up my determination, and today’s setback would have me totally discouraged. I’m back to 126. Typical diet, after all. It works at first, then stops.

I slept with just the sound machine and an earplug because I was sick of having the draft on me from the fan. I’ll have to have it on tomorrow, though, in case the animals come. I should be going to sleep around the same time they’d come, if they come, although it’s easier to fall asleep to noise than to fall asleep first and then have it get noisy. It’s not that it’d be “noisy.” Just bangy and vibrant like sonic booms.

I sleep shitty half the time when I’m on nights because the city stress wakes me up constantly. When I sleep at night, though, I sleep better. It’s still a million times quieter here than anyplace I lived in as an adult in Phoenix or back East.

I just hope to hell we can find a place in a neutral zone. One that isn’t so far out and that won’t have the sounds of hunters and sonic booms, but that doesn’t have neighboring houses so damn close. I also hope there are more trees to block sounds and give us added privacy, and that if we do go to a warmer climate, dogs aren’t left outside to bark 24/7 like in Phoenix. I don’t know if they do that everywhere it’s warmer, or if it’s just a Western custom.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 28, 2005 Another weekend in the city has just about arrived, and so has the stress that goes with it. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned since leaving Phoenix is to never think you’ve escaped something for good! The stress may be nothing compared to other places, but still, it’s there, nonetheless. I almost wish those animals had come last Sunday so that I could know I probably wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while, but now I’m left to anticipate what shit this Sunday may bring. Oh well, I’ll just keep reminding myself that there are only 13 more Sundays left here.

She left just before Tom left for work this morning. I wonder where she could’ve gone so early.

We’re done with Netflix and Webshots. I’m hoping Tom will be able to hack the 2 out of 4 daily premium pictures from Webshots, though I doubt it. I’d think they’d be pretty hacker-safe about that, but we’ll see. I doubt I’ll return to these things if we ever have more money because you know how I hate to have to keep starting over. I hate the part-time, sometimes-I-can, sometimes-I-can’t routine I’ve been on for so many years now. I want to either just do something regularly or not do it at all.

Tom heard at work that Walmart, which is expanding into a supercenter, is about to hire 300 people, so he’s thinking of applying there. If he could get hired there, we’d get a 10% discount on groceries and other merchandise, and he could transfer to another Walmart Supercenter in another state/town if they had an opening, because they’re everywhere. The pay’s shitty, but they do get raises and it should be more than what he’s making now (he’ll never get a raise where he is now). A coworker’s wife said she’s only been there two months and they’ve already raised her to $8.40 an hour.

Despite the not-so-good pay, I don’t know if God would allow Tom to work there what with how convenient it would be. We’d both almost certainly have insurance too, including dental.

I’m 125, which I first hit almost 3 weeks ago, so now I’m virtually certain that I won’t lose any more weight. I could if I starved myself even more, but I don’t want to. At least this diet saves money and keeps me from gaining.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 27, 2005 I spoke to Paula last night and let her know her package is on its way. While we’ve had no snow and have been in the 40s and 50s, she’s got 15” of snow and single-digit temps! Some parts of Massachusetts have 3’ of snow.

Not surprisingly, his cheater program doesn’t look like it’s going to help him win $10 a day at the game site. As I reminded him, we wouldn’t be cursed financially if we were meant to be able to do things like win money that often. The point of this is to keep us down in life and make sure we always struggle. I don’t know what’s doing this to us or why. Everyone else in our families was meant to have money, so why are we the black sheep in that department? Because we are in so many other departments as well? Well, I don’t know why we’re destined to scrape pennies, but there’s no point in getting upset over it. It’s always been this way and it always will be.

I’m also sure my publishing vibe is bullshit, too. I mean, it has to be, doesn’t it? Why would God let me do something as extraordinary as publishing a book, even if it means we still stay broke? I guess the answer is simple. I may not want to be a writer like I once wanted to be other things, but I like to write, so why would He let me do something I like and want to do other than for fun? I just don’t see Him letting me publish a book, although He did let me get pictures published, and well, I don’t know, but maybe getting something published isn’t that extraordinary. I don’t know the odds. I guess it’d be somewhat special, though certainly not as special as winning a Grammy or an Oscar. I just don’t see how one could make money with gay characters with all the bigots in this world, so maybe He would allow it after all. I think that’s why He allowed me to get my pictures published; because He knew I wouldn’t profit from it. So, if I have nothing to gain, I just may succeed.

I learned yet another fucked up religious belief from Tom when I commented on how those that hate gays tie them into religion, unlike blacks. He told me that they too, were entwined in twisted beliefs. Back when they were slaves, certain religious people said it was okay to enslave them because they weren’t really human but were in fact monkeys. As much as I hate the damn things, even I have to admit that one’s pretty fucked up, yet it’s funny, too. A lot of them do have monkey-like facial features.

I went to the Arizona Republic’s site to see if anything was printed pertaining to my e-mail. Not surprisingly there wasn’t. I wouldn’t have cared if there was, I was just curious. All I found connected to my name was one small paragraph from when I was in custody, and sure enough, and not at all surprisingly, that one little paragraph was riddled with lies. The sick bitch said I hung a teddy bear by a noose from her clothesline, that she spent as much time as possible away from the house, and that she was pregnant when we had to live with her and her sick associates. Again, I had the great misfortune of seeing her often enough to know she was never pregnant while living there. I got a kick out of the ax bullshit she threw in, though, saying she slept with an ax by her bed. What? Her big man couldn’t protect her from someone smaller than she was? Then again, I was only shorter, but not lighter. The bitch was druggie-thin, so I was no doubt the heavier one. Still… an ax? My, my, Joely, aren’t we a little drama queen? I know it was all for show, though. She was never afraid of me. The only thing she was right on about in court was when she said she was lucky to be alive. She got that one right! I still don’t know why I didn’t stick it to her when I had her on our property. I still would’ve gone to jail, but it would’ve been for a worthy cause in that case.

Anyway, I did toss an old teddy bear over the wall I no longer wanted, but I’d never have had the guts to go into the yard for fear of being shot to death. Then again, the Mexicans would’ve shot us faster than the blacks because that’s just the kind of people they were. I wasn’t kidding or exaggerating when I said they’d literally die for me. They’d die for anyone or anything, for that matter, if that’s what it took to get their way. They don’t come much more defiant than those little shits. Anyway, the noose-hanging was just the black bum’s own throw-in for dramatics, as the roof-hopping was my own add-in in the journals I sent.

As for her spending as much time as possible away from the house – I suppose that’s why I’d always bitch about her being there 24/7, because she was out as much as possible, right? Well, the truth is that it was only in the last few months that she was gone during the day, but that was only because she finally started working.

I would also bet everything I have that she didn’t lose the house. Her time was no doubt up because they were beginning to set time limits at that time. Since the 90s, you haven’t been able to stay on welfare for decades like you used to be able to. Some people would have one child after another just to stay on it, but now they’ll only pay for so many for so long, then “you’re the parents, so you foot the bill,” is their attitude, which I thoroughly agree with. I thought it was about time they cracked down on the lazy mother-fuckers. Either way, there’s no way even the nicest, most peaceful person would have gone out that quietly the day she moved, had we been the ones to cause her to be evicted. The Mexicans may’ve ended up evicted, but she did not.

Later…

I’m back to thinking I’m not going to lose any more weight. I’ve been 125 pounds for the last two days, and when I first hit 125, it was 16 days ago. Oh well. Going hungry still saves money.

I split my 24 bags of incense in half. I plan to rotate every other day between my sweets, spices and musks, and my fruits, flowers and perfumes.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 25, 2005 I was surprised to wake at 123 pounds! I did not expect that. Every time I think I’m not going to lose anymore, I do, so now I’m back to not being sure how low I’ll go.

Tom’s got a new game plan in mind. Instead of playing for set dollar amounts each day, he’s going to play for 2 hours on weekdays and 5 hours on weekends. That’ll be 20 hours a week, the part-time job we need to supplement us. He still thinks he can win around $10 a day.

I called Paula to let her know her incense and CDs would be mailed out tomorrow or the next day. I also enclosed some designer envelopes for her as well as a couple of dull colognes and a bottle of nail polish. Plus, I’m sending her a light bulb ring and a bit of watermelon oil so she can see if she too, wants to switch from sticks to avoid the residue buildup. I let her know I’d send a fragrance list from the New York site for her to choose from and to send me money for whatever she wants and I’ll get it for her when I go to do a trial order for myself in 2-3 months.

Not surprisingly, I found more botches on the incense I just got. My Butter Rum is Butter Rum and so is my Cranberry, and I’m almost sure the Cotton Candy is, too. Also, the Jasmine smelled a bit off, yet when I sniffed the bag, it clearly smelled of Jasmine. The Fruit was way off, and when I sniffed the bag, it smelled Lemony. They obviously can’t handle big incense orders, so even though he says he got a new kid helping him, I should buy more oils from them and fewer sticks. I want to convert over to oil anyway. They don’t manufacture their oil, so maybe they won’t fuck up as much as opposed to when they have to dip/package sticks.

MONDAY, JANUARY 24, 2005 Tom’s trying for today’s $10 on the game site. That’s what we’d like to start with; $10 a day. Without this cheater thing he wrote, there’d be no way. If this works out, though, then that’ll be his additional part-time job.

I can relate to how he said he wanted to brag to everyone and anyone about how he came up with this brilliant program, yet the only one he could tell was me. He was adamant about me writing about it at first, but then he said it’d be okay since it’s not illegal. The worst that could happen to him if he were caught would be that he’d get kicked off the site and not paid any of the money he won.

Where I can relate is that if I ever did get a book published, I’d want to rub a copy in both our family’s faces, and maybe even send a copy to Andy and Miss Priss, yet I know we wouldn’t tell anyone other than Bob and Paula. Impressing the others and showing off to them isn’t worth the cost of the postage it’d take to send the copies anyway.

Later…

I’m both excited and delighted to say that after waiting exactly one month, the incense is here! Not without a catch, though, as usual. One of the two body oils is out of stock and so is the incense oil I ordered. Also, they left out my bags. This is no biggie, though, compared to if I find that any of these dipped sticks aren’t what they’re supposed to be, but so far so good.

Bob said he’d send the stuff to me next week. I guess my box was packed, then repacked, and they forgot to stick the bags back in.

What’s funny is that he can’t find my money order which he acknowledged both on the phone and in the e-mail had arrived. He said his daughter cleans up after him and she may’ve put it someplace. Serves him right for making me wait this long! Anyway, Tom will give him its ID number if he has to. These people are so damn disorganized! What kind of fool leaves payments lying around to get misplaced? Don’t they have some sort of box for these things?

I’m impressed with how well the oil burns in the light bulb rings. Just half an eyedropper of oil, and the place smelled heavily of chocolate for about as long as in incense stick burns, maybe longer. It only smoked a teeny tiny bit, too. The only drawback to the oil rings is that I can’t use them when I don’t want lights on.

He gave me two extra 20-packs. One was an extra pack of Cotton Candy which is good. It actually sort of reminds me of butter rum, believe it or not. And also a pack of the famous Frankincense. I don’t really care for that one, so I sent it to Paula. Both she and Tina will be in for a pleasant surprise. Especially Tina, since she’s not expecting it.

The flat-rate mailing boxes I requested arrived, too. The mailman left them by the door, knocked, then took off. I’m going to miss getting packages this easily, though I’m not going to be getting many for a long, long time to come. Not just to save money, but because I’m sick of having to work so hard to get them! It sort of takes the fun out of shopping when you have to fight for your purchases, though I still may give that other place a try and get just $20 worth of sticks.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 23, 2005 No animals today, so that’s good. Maybe God’s just waiting to send them over on a day when he knows I’ll be up to having to figure out where we’re going to go for 7 hours while they bounce off the walls, floor and ceiling. There’s no way I can see her having them over and ordering them to sit still. You can’t tell little kids to sit still any more than you can tell a rattlesnake to rid itself of its venom. Not without traumatizing them into a catatonic state with threats of death for running rather than walking.

It seems the worst of winter may be over, judging by the variety of birds there suddenly is. So unlike Massachusetts, though I’m sure it won’t feel very summery for a while yet. Good, we still have 98 days to go here.

I have this cavity that acts up every now and then, but then I do my spells and it’s okay for a while. Although Tom’s a bit more sure he can win us a couple of hundred extra bucks a month, I want to put off filling it till after we get moved so it doesn’t jeopardize the move.

It also appears that my spell stopped his cold from setting in, too. A cold made another play for me in my sleep, but again I fought it off. Let’s put it this way – we’d both be feeling pretty lousy right now if I didn’t have the powers I have!

I hope we can find an old dumpy house no one wants to rent that’s cheaper than this. If it’ll only be for a few years, I won’t care if it’s small, old and rundown. I guess it’ll depend on how much land is around it. Just as long as there are some space and some trees for privacy. I also hope it’s where we stay till we buy a house. I may be anxious to get the hell out of here, but I’m still sick of all the damn moving we do, too!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 2005 I was laughing when I read that Massachusetts is 30 degrees colder than we are right now, and expecting a monster snowstorm. Yup, winters here are mild compared to even the easiest winters there.

Bev was out again till dusk. I know she’s not visiting Romeo who’s laid up with a broken leg somewhere because he came by last night. I just hope this place isn’t hit with 7 hours of sonic boom-type vibrations tomorrow!

I awoke at 126. That’s a 2-pound setback, so I have to really watch it for the next couple of days. My goal is to hit 123 by the end of the month.

The good news is that my incense was finally shipped out on Friday. Now all I have to do is hope they sent everything I ordered. If whatever extra thing he threw in isn’t good, I’ll just send it to Paula. I just hope I don’t have to be available to sign for it because I should be asleep when it comes on Monday or Tuesday.

Tom’s written a program to aid him with the online games. We’re hoping this will earn us an additional few hundred a month, but we’re afraid to get our hopes up. It’s just that we’ve struggled so much of our lives that I can’t see why we’d suddenly stop. The hard part is that he’s got to come up with a program that’s not too obvious and that they can block with their own software they may have set up to detect aids.

As for me, I thought that once we had a PO Box somewhere again, I’d post a notice on the bulletin board for people to send me $5 per question, and as a psychic, I’d send them their answers via postal mail or email. This way, if some trigger-happy psycho doesn’t like any answers I may give, they won’t know where to find me. I hope I can do something because my books can’t make us shit. Even if I got 5 books published right now, you’re talking just a few bucks a year in sales because not many people buy these kinds of books, and I’m not a big-name author.

He found a dollar bill in the driveway the other day. At least the occasional trash that blows in here is worth something unlike the millions of pieces of trash we’d get in Maricopa!

He said he felt a slight cold starting, so I did a spell on him. I hope it works!

Why couldn’t they come up with these flavored cigarettes before I quit smoking? They’ve got all kinds of them coming out now, and of course you also got all kinds of people protesting them. I can’t imagine how you could “flavorize” smoke, but then again, you can add fragrance to it so why not taste?

FRIDAY, JANUARY 21, 2005 It’s currently 21º here, 3º in Springfield, and 69º in Maricopa. It’s going to be 81º in Maricopa come Sunday. God, I miss that! I mean, I don’t miss the huge electric bills, struggling to regulate the AC, sweating my ass off even when I’m sitting still, but I’m sick of being cold! I’m so glad we’ll be moving when the weather warms up, cuz as much as I miss summer, I’d hate to have it warm up here. Never know what trouble it may bring outdoors if it did.

Bev was out for at least 3 hours that we know of. I’d say that kid was born. She’s never been out that long and after dark, so I’m getting rather nervous about the upcoming weekend. Damn! I did not come here to be stressing out all over again about what neighbors may do! Oh well, whatever she does, it can’t be for more than 100 days now, then all I have to do is hope we can get a house that doesn’t include the neighbors’ barking dogs or a car stereo. If they did have a stereo, though, I’d like to think they couldn’t pull right up alongside our house with it, or sit with it blasting while they tossed hoops. I just know that someone in the household will be home all the time, they’ll probably have little kids who are outside a lot, so I’m hoping we’ll have more privacy than we did in Maricopa since we couldn’t possibly have that much distance.

I had to laugh to myself when I thought of how we came here to build a home on the mountain. Instead, we may very well move to California and I may publish a book this year (I have vibes that my second submission will make it). Now that’s pretty far out.

I also laughed when I thought of how Mary had contacted me to help her get her book published, yet all I could do for her was type up what she wrote. Instead, it just may be the other way around, since she’s the one who really inspired me to improve my writing and to write more elaborate stories.

Tom was right when he pointed out how we seem to fail when we set out to do something with some grand goal in mind. Getting my stories published was the last thing on my mind when I started them. I still can’t say for sure that I ever will get any published, but I think I stand a pretty good chance. The vibes I got from Barb weren’t just that she hoped I’d submit something publishable, but more like she expected me to.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 20, 2005 Amazingly, Bev’s been gone since Tom got in from work, which was right around when I got up and still is. I’ve never known her to be out after dark. My guess is that she’s at her kid’s house. I hope that’s where she is because it’s about time she went to them rather than them going to her, cuz when they do, we’re the ones that have to deal with it, though I’m sure they’ll still visit occasionally. Most people aren’t going to forbid their grandkids from visiting just because they bother the neighbors.

I just realized another not-so-good possibility. Her daughter-in-law could be having the baby tonight, in which case she and her son may want to pawn the other kids off on her because they’ll have their hands full enough with a newborn. Why do other people’s kids always have to butt into my life? With my shit luck, her daughter-in-law has no mother for them to go to, so with just one granny to sic them on, we’re the ones that’ll have to put up with their shit.

It’s getting more and more obvious, at least to me, that Bob’s just stringing me along with no plans to ship my order. I don’t think he ever processed it. I don’t know if he’s just so overwhelmed that he’s deliberately losing customers while he’s too greedy to hire help, or what, but here’s my plan. If I still haven’t heard from him by Monday, I’ll email him informing him that he has one week to either send me my order or give me my money back. If in a week he hasn’t delivered either, I’ll trash and bash him in his testimonials every day. Hopefully, he’ll get so sick of that that he’ll finally cave in and send something. There’s no way I can trust this other incense place. I’m just too cursed with mail orders, and the more it’s something I like/want, the more I have to fight for it. It’s just too damn hard to get shit through the mail, so I give up.

I hit 124 pounds today. If things continue as they have been, I just may keep losing after all. I may be 115 when we move, from what I calculated.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 19, 2005 Romeo’s visiting now. I still don’t think he’s living there, though, because the truck is hardly ever there. Why would you move in with someone and leave your vehicle elsewhere most of the time? How would he get to work, assuming he does work? He may very well be on disability himself, though I’ve never seen his truck here during regular business hours. It’s just that I remember all too well how hard it is for those on Disability to attract those with jobs. However, a guy probably wouldn’t mind a woman on Disability as much as another woman would.

The guy across the street yelled for Tom to come help him lift an air compressor out of his trunk the other day, but they didn’t chat or anything.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 18, 2005 If I could’ve read future excerpts back before the mid-90s, this one would’ve had me laughing: A cold tried to set in the night before last. It took me a while to fight it, but between my spells, incense burning, and chicken pot pie, it never got worse than a scratchy throat. I don’t know how I do what I do. I just concentrate really hard on what I want (or don’t want), though sometimes it takes a few tries.

Here’s another classic example of how not having my own kids hasn’t necessarily spared me from having to deal with other people’s kids getting in the way of my life, plans and peace. On Sunday, Bob told me he worked on my order a little, then he got pulled away by his daughter who was celebrating her 10th birthday. Supposedly, it’s to be shipped out tomorrow, but I’ll believe it when I see it.

I took my first duplex nap and slept for a few hours this evening. Perhaps that’s because cramps woke me up after not much more than 4 hours of sleep this morning. Again I don’t know what it is with the 4th hour of my sleep being so vulnerable. Did I smother someone in their sleep in a previous life after they’d been asleep for 4 hours, or what? I may be asleep when he gets in from work if I can’t get to sleep till late in the morning, but I’ll wake up to a nice surprise in the freezer if I do – a mud pie blizzard from DQ! Yes, it’s my day off tomorrow, and I’m also virtually certain that my weight won’t drop below 125 pounds. Oh well. For years I couldn’t get under 127 so maybe someday I’ll get under 125, but probably not anytime too soon. I still intend to keep up the diet, though, cuz it does a good job of saving money.

I do not look forward to this Sunday, knowing it could very well be a circus next door. The question is, will I be awake before the earthquakes begin, or will the animals wake me up? I did not come here just to be woken up by other people’s kids or grandkids!!!

MONDAY, JANUARY 17, 2005 I got a response back from PDP. I hope she’ll find my current story more “fleshed out and expanded on” as she put it. I think it’s much better than the one she read, but we’ll see. I don’t know if I’ll rework the one I submitted only because it’s easier to start from scratch than to rework a manuscript, but we’ll see. It’s definitely longer. Still, I appreciate the feedback, even if she made a typo at the end of her review. We were kind of expecting a form letter or to be completely blown off.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 16, 2005 Although I don’t expect them to get it till Monday, I went ahead and sent the publishers a message regarding any decisions made about my manuscript. Whether or not I hear from them will depend on just how professional they are. If they blow me off, then they were never all that professional to begin with.

If Bob blows me off and I don’t get the incense by Friday, I’ll just go ahead and send Paula what I’ve got, along with her CDs. Then I’ll have to fight to get the money back, and never, never, get anything through the mail again.

Meanwhile, I was able to go online and order free mailing boxes from the PO. They say they’ll be here in 10-14 days. It’d be nice if they kept their word because that way he wouldn’t have to stand in line at the local PO.

If I do get my incense, then I’ll stick to my plan of trying that other incense place next month. I’m sure they’ll start off reliable, then slowly slack off like Bob and Jeff did. Things always seem like they’re going to work out at first, but then they slide downhill. Neighbors start off quiet, then they get noisy. Diets start off effective, then they stop working. Melatonin starts off keeping me on a schedule, then it’s worthless. People’s service starts off okay, then it gets horrible.

No animals next door today, but the damn things will probably be there next Sunday.

My weight is at 126 pounds. I don’t know if I’ll get lower than 125-126. My guess is no, I won’t.

The temperature’s climbing back up which makes it much more comfortable at night. It’d cost us a fortune to heat it so that we’d be comfortable in here when it’s around 0º. It’s going to be in the upper 50s in about a week.

The Arizona Republic has so far honored my request not to be contacted regarding my email, though I’m not terribly surprised about that one. They probably never even read it, having long since decided that I was the perpetrator in this case, and if they did it would have only been to see if I threatened the sickos so they could try to hunt me down and come after me.

Tom sprayed mildew killer to try to kill all the damn mildew that’s around the windows, and although that was hours ago, I can still smell the shit. It reminds me of Monkey-Faced Maria in jail who was so obsessed with bleaching everything she could!

THURSDAY, JANUARY 13, 2005 I thought it was time to do something I’ve been thinking of doing ever since I got off probation and that’s to email the Arizona Republic with the truth about what happened with the sickos we used to live with. I’m not going to tell Tom just yet because I know that’d make him extremely paranoid. Even I was a little nervous at first, knowing they could alter my email, etc., but then I remembered my vow to not let this incident keep me from speaking my mind. I did it because I felt I finally had to “fight back” even if it’s in a pathetic sort of way. It isn’t to make anyone believe me or side with me or to gain anything. I can’t kill them, I can’t sue them, but I could finally speak out without being attacked or used as people’s source of entertainment, and so I did. I will place a copy of the email at the end of this entry.

I called Bob again and he says that by next week they should be all caught up, he got my money order today, and will email me to let me know the current status of my order. Meanwhile, I’m sure it hasn’t been shipped yet.

I also called Paula and told her to start looking for her package after the 24th. She’s been kind enough not to call me so she doesn’t take up my minutes, and I assured her I’d make it a point to call her once a month. The gay guy got a 1-year restraining order on her, she’s still in touch with psycho Miguel, and her married black pig still comes around every now and then.

Last night was utterly freezing here at -7º! Bev hasn’t hung clothes out back for a while now.

I was so sick of being so cold in my sleep that I cut my comforter in half, making the part I’d cover myself with a little wider, and put the other part under my sheet to act as a padded mattress pad. I had two hours of sewing to do, but it was worth it.

My letter to the Arizona Republic:

My name is Jodi S and while I doubt this letter will be read since it’s not exactly going to say what the media would like to hear, I’ll give it a try anyway. I had turned down an interview with you folks in March of ’01 from Estrella jail because I didn’t want to be your source of entertainment, after being terribly slandered by a couple of news people who insisted they were to remain neutral and weren’t out to attack me, though you went and bashed me anyway, even though I never did read the article.

So why am I writing this? Oh, I guess it’s just because I have to get the truth out, even if no one ever cares enough to read this, much less investigate my claims.

I’m the one who was convicted of stalking Joely N on 10/30/00. The reason I’ve chosen to wait so long to write this is so that no one thinks I wrote it simply to try to get a break on my sentence since my sentence has been done and over with since 4/30/03. I don’t even reside in Arizona anymore. My husband and I were forced to run after the countless threats we received from both Miss N and the arresting officer involved, Jerry O, her personal friend. I guess the reason for the threats was that they were angry that my probation got cut 6 months early, aside from the fact that these are seriously disturbed individuals. Because of this, I am not going to disclose my location.

Let me cut to the chase and then I’ll expand on what I have to say. They said I was convicted of writing and sending N a threatening letter, but in reality, I was convicted because I am Jewish (something N has personally told me she despises) and because I launched a city complaint against her when she was on section 8 and living next to us in Phoenix for constant noise and trashing our yard. I did not know this right away, but she and Jerry O have been long-time buddies.

We moved to Maricopa because we were tired of being continually harassed and badgered by these people for no reason whatsoever. Loud stereos would come and go at all hours of the day and night, screaming and yelling were a constant occurrence, trash would be tossed over into our yard, and so on and so forth. Every time we’d call the police, they’d tell us they couldn’t be there 24/7 to monitor the situation and that they’d probably start up as soon as they left, and they did. The police also told me to keep a log of their activities. I did this in my journal. This is what the state called “stalking.” Well, let me assure you, we couldn’t have helped but know their every move if we tried because N, her boyfriend Michael, her friends and family, went out of their way to make sure we knew of their every move and this was just a few feet from our place. Their driveway ran alongside one wall of our house and we’d hear them out there slamming car doors as loud as they could, laughing about it, calling out, taunting us. I was becoming quite frightened of them. After all, there were just 2 of us and lots of them. I even heard N once yell out, “Call the police again and I’ll personally skin your white Jewish ass!” This was along with prank phone calls and notes slipped in our mailbox slot that I am so, so sorry I never saved. I thought I was being the so-called bigger person by ignoring these things and so I threw them away.

When repeated complaints to quiet down directly to them failed to work, we wrote a letter to the city. This was never about their color. This was about them being loud, rude and obnoxious. They themselves turned it into a racial issue, and never once did I make any threats to them in my journals. The closest thing I may’ve said to a threat was, “I wish they’d drop dead over there,” or “I sometimes want to go over and strangle them for all the noise,” but I never once wrote any direct threats to them or their kids.

She said in court that she had to move twice because of me yet I never knew where she moved to. That’s why I sent the journals to the old address; so they could be forwarded. (I’m sure O coaxed her into saying this) Then they said I picked on the next family which was Hispanic, but they weren’t Hispanic. They were as white as I am. When I called N and asked if she’d gotten the letter, “the letter” meant the manila envelope I’d sent her containing the journals.

That’s where Det. O comes in. We had just moved into our Maricopa home when he so rudely stormed into my house, scaring the living daylights out of me, with a ton of other cops. It was like a swat team! I was like, all this for a 105-pound, 5’ person? Then I was dragged into Phoenix to be asked questions that I could’ve been asked right there in my home. This was when I was framed, though I didn’t realize it at the time. O thrust a threatening letter into my hand that I had never seen before. It was very threatening and filled with racial slurs. I told him I knew nothing of the letter, though I did send some journal excerpts as a way of “speaking my mind” in a non-violent way that was exercising my right to freedom of speech. What I didn’t know then is that O typed the letter up himself, then thrust it into my hands to get my fingerprints on it. I also have every reason to believe he altered many of the journals as well.

Words cannot describe the sheer frustration of being set up by your own perpetrators while the media has done nothing but glorify these people. Words also couldn’t describe the frustration of knowing I can never prove the letter was a frame. I have been humiliated beyond belief. The police have ignored the threats made against us. They just didn’t want to hear it or believe it. It always makes the news when non-whites are discriminated against, but when a white person is discriminated against, you never hear about it.

The corruption doesn’t end here, I’m afraid, so please bear with me a little longer if by some chance you are still reading this.

Paul K was my public defender. I thought I just may have someone on my side at last, someone I could trust, but boy was I wrong! He withheld valuable information from me that could’ve prevented me from receiving the ludicrous sentence I received, and didn’t show me additional “evidence” till minutes before sentencing. I don’t even remember what this was because he flashed it really quickly and then shoved it away in a file folder. When I asked to see it clearly, he refused. My husband and I tried to take action against him, but the Bar Association refused to even listen to us. Meanwhile, I was led to believe I was being charged with the journals, not the letter. I was also assured – no promised – that if I pled guilty, I would receive no more than a year’s probation. I still didn’t think I deserved that much for sending what was a handful of pages of journal excerpts, but I truly believed at the time that I had no way out. K was great at manipulating people who didn’t know a thing about the law and the system. And why should I have known anything? After all, the worst I’d ever done back in my native state of Massachusetts was make prank phone calls that I got a slap on the wrist for. However, I would come to learn an awful lot too late right around this time, along with the fact that N and O were friends and maybe even more than friends by the way they carried on out in the hallway before we could enter the courtroom. Oh, it was quite a show, I assure you!

And then there was the DA and Judge. When Paul told me the DA was seeking a 6-month sentence, I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it! Who in their right mind would seek that kind of a sentence for something that was written on paper? After all, I never harmed these people, never forced them to read the journals. They could’ve simply trashed them and moved on, but not these vengeful, vindictive people. This was when I started to realize much to my horror that I may never be allowed to move on and get these people out of my life forever. And what kind of judge could hand down such an insane sentence? Even if it was the so-called “law,” well, what if the law came down and said you had to throw your children off a bridge? Would you do it? I should hope not! I should hope at that point you’d do the right thing which the judge failed to do that day. Even if I’d been 100% guilty as charged, no one – no one – should do 6 months in jail, plus 2 years of probation that would amount to thousands of dollars, for a letter!

I thoroughly regret pleading guilty and that I cannot prove the guilt of those involved, protect others from becoming potential victims of these hateful people, and sue them silly. So my next hope is that N and O, who are obviously obsessed with me, never find me. There’s no saying what they would do if they did and let me set the record straight – the only “victims” in this case were me and my husband! Another thing that’s truly frustrating is knowing that no one’s ever questioned them. Never once has these people’s credibility been questioned. I mean, certainly I can’t be the only one they’ve picked on. I’m sure that if one probed deep enough, they’d find others they’ve victimized that they believed crossed them and that O used his authority against. This man is nothing but a very angry person hiding behind a badge that he uses as a weapon against those he dislikes or that his friend/lover N has a personal vendetta against. I don’t know if they’re all white like me, but I’m sure you’d find a common denominator if you looked hard enough – Joely N and Jerry O.

I do not wish to be contacted regarding this letter. Sadly, I know these people will never be questioned, or investigated, and that justice will never be done in this case. I just wanted to correct the tall tales they’ve spun along with the media and God knows who else, and speak the truth without being attacked for once, or assumed to be out for personal gain.

Later…

Got a Bob letter today. His lungs are so bad that he says he may not make it out of there. I never thought he would, truthfully. I always figured he’d either kill himself or get shanked by some sicko.

The Bob in Idaho is still stringing me along. He emailed saying, “We never received the order so we couldn’t find it,” yet he just named off a few things on my order list the other day that he said he’d check on to see if they were in stock. Now I have no clue whatsoever when my order will be shipped, but I do know that I’m done with them for good. I’d really like to find a place I can buy my supplies from in person!

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 12, 2005 We decided to get a microwave this weekend and put my new pillows on hold till next weekend in light of the $150 electric bill we just got. That’s nothing compared to the Arizona bills, but still a hell of a lot for us, considering what he makes here.

We did more research on Redding and were surprised to see how much warmer it is there than here. It’s barely two hours away yet its temperatures are more comparable to Arizona than here! It rains more there, though it rains more everywhere than in Arizona. Well, I’m pretty sick of the cold and snow already. My only concern would be that it may be too noisy being a warmer climate, but we’ll see. We still don’t even know that we’re going to make it down there this year. It’ll all depend on what he finds for jobs.

Tom got an idea for a book he wants us both to write together about a PI who looks for a missing person with computers being involved. It’s sort of sci-fi. I told him I didn’t know if I could do that because I’m not a sci-fi writer. I’ll give it a try, though it seems like it’d be like me trying to sing opera. I’ve still got so many book ideas of my own, and who knows when No Escape will be done?

It’s been exactly 6 weeks since I submitted my manuscript to PDP, so I hope to hear from them soon. If February rolls around with still no word from them, I’ll email them.

Of course I haven’t heard a damn thing from Bob saying that my package has been shipped. Why oh why do I always have to fight to get things??? Why can’t I just order something and get it???

The sleep curse was on again this morning. A single loud bang woke me up that seemed too loud to be any of the neighbors, so I’m thinking it may’ve come from the street. I heard another single loud bang about 10 minutes later. Since I doubt it was any of the neighbors, unless Bev hurled a chair at the dividing wall or they slammed doors with all their strength on the other side, no midnight snowballs will be hurled at their bedroom windows, though I think mom and daughter are wide awake at that hour.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 11, 2005 Just 110 more days to go here. If Romeo’s now living with Bev, hopefully he won’t dig the idea of a bunch of little kids visiting, but I’m sure they’ll visit again soon enough. Better yet, I wish she’d start hanging out at his place more and more, though I don’t want her to move before we do because we may get something worse over there if she did.

I wasn’t kidding, though, when I said no more complaints against the bass if she were to start up again. I’ve got an advantage here that I didn’t have with the sickos that I’m going to take advantage of and that’s that I can give back what I get. Not being attached to the sickos, it wasn’t easy to “pay back the noise.” Also, they were so damn noisy that my noise wouldn’t have mattered. Here, though, the only thing I couldn’t do is wake her up if she woke me up because I’d have to wake Tom up in order to do that. Meanwhile, I’ll just give back any bass she gives me, though all’s been quiet since complaint number two.

I was shocked to awake at 125 pounds. That’s a 4-pound drop in 8 days!

We got a little more snow, but haven’t gotten over half a foot yet. According to these online charts, the first week of January was as cold as it gets here, though it’s still going to be a few months before it warms up. I just hope it isn’t too nice to invite all kinds of chaos outside these bedroom windows before we leave!

Got a nice view out the kitchen window yesterday when a couple of deer decided to come digging through the snow for some apples. I even managed to get some decent pictures. I was amazed at how easily and gracefully they hopped over the fence. It was almost as if they floated over it and they were nearly soundless when they touched ground. They’re pretty brave too, because I went out back and watched them for a few minutes and they didn’t mind.

When Tom got in from work, he told me there were 3 of them watching him leave for work that morning. They were between our driveway and the side of the neighboring duplex.

I spoke with Bob yesterday who said things were in shambles when he returned from a vacation in Mexico. He said Jeff’s a good guy, but he’s lousy with management. He also says he’ll have my order shipped today or tomorrow, though he doesn’t know if the two body oils I want are in stock. Either way, we sent off the payment today, so maybe they’ll cross paths. If all goes well, I can mail Paula’s incense and CDs out on Monday.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 9, 2005 Romeo’s next door now shoveling Bev’s driveway, but his truck isn’t present. He was over for a few minutes yesterday. I hope my complaints about the music won’t spark them into other annoyances, like slamming doors, for instance. I’ve heard that front door more often, though it’s so far from where I sleep, it’d never wake me up. It just seems to be human nature, though, for people to act up in other ways when they’ve been complained about. That’s what the freeloaders did, always making a point to slam their car doors as loud as they could.

At least today ought to be animal-free, so we’ve got 15 more Sundays to hope we can dodge the animals, though I know they’ll be here a few times before we leave. There are 3 Sundays left in the month as it is, so one of those ought to include them.

The old man across the street came knocking yesterday. We figured he wanted to plow our driveway for a small fee, but we just ignored him.

If I don’t hear from Bob or Jeff come Monday, I’m going to tell them to forget my order. I’m also not going to play any more mail games with anyone else, so I’ll probably forget about trying incense from that other place and just get us a small microwave and me a new pillow. Mine’s just about mashed flat. I think I’ve had it since back east if I didn’t get it when I first moved to Arizona.

Later…

It looks like I’ve bottomed out at 126 pounds, though I’ll continue to do this diet for two days at a time with a day off in between to save money.

Last night I slept pretty shittily. That’s because I had to sleep on pieces of foam because this bed leaked just like the last one did! It fucking figures, though I’m surprised it took so long. Why is it always our stuff that breaks? Meanwhile, none of the stuff in here that we don’t own has broken in any way. At least I caught this leak while I was awake, rather than awakened to find I’d sunk like I did in the RV. I was lying in it reading when I realized it was getting softer awfully fast. By placing it in the tub, Tom was able to locate the leak by pushing on it. The leak would then cause the water to bubble. The odd thing about it is that the leak is in the area where my pillow is and once we examined it, it was clearly a puncture made by a sharp object and not wear and tear of the bed itself. But I don’t have anything that could do that. I don’t lie on the bed with things in my pockets, nor do I have sharp objects on me. The sharpest thing we could come up with was the metal clasp around my elastic hair tie, but even that seemed too small and just not sharp enough to go through a sheet and a wool blanket folded in half.

We tried to patch it with a piece of semi-rubbery backing from a mouse pad and some rubber cement, but that wouldn’t seal it enough. We had Tom sleep on it because I figured I’d always be waking up, paranoid about sinking. I was shocked to find it stayed up all night, though it did lose a lot of air. I was like, I nearly broke my back while this thing stayed up! Despite sleeping on 4 pieces of foam, I was still quite uncomfortable. I guess it’s because I’m a little heavy. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable if I were the 100 pounds I used to be, but since that’s not going to happen, we got a new bed today. Fortunately, it came with a repair kit because we forgot to get one and these cheap pieces of shit are obviously always going to spring leaks.

Next week we’re going to get a microwave and me a new head pillow as well as a new body pillow.

It wasn’t overly cold out there, but it was all slushy with patches of water and ice and just totally yucky. Dreary looking, too. Tom’s still finding this fun, though, and even enjoyed shoveling the driveway. He’s insane, I told him.

Again someone knocked on the door. Some woman with a little kid that was probably looking for hand-outs. They just don’t leave you alone in the city!

I wonder if I’ll hear from the publisher this coming week. The 6 weeks are almost up. I’d rather them tell me they’re rejecting my manuscript than just blow me off without a word, but a lot of people do that.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 2005 And now I’m 126 pounds. Yes, I just may’ve concocted a damn good diet here. The question is, if I did, how much do I want to lose right now? We don’t exactly have the money for me to get new clothes should I start falling out of the ones I’ve got. I should set a limit of 115-120. Then again, I still have my doubts about any diet causing me significant weight loss at my age and with my slow metabolism, so we’ll just have to wait and see.

Not eating makes you cold, so by the time I get to where I’m a few hours away from my one big meal, I’m freezing!

The roads are snowy and icy, so we’re not going out today. Instead, Tom got us treats yesterday when he did the grocery shopping, including incense, figuring that this is how it’d be today. That’s the one thing I hate about snowy climates; unlike in Arizona, the weather can prevent you from going out. As much as I hate this shit, it just may keep the little animals from coming to stomp around next door this Sunday. Next Sunday, however, they probably will be there.

Tom got us our first snow shovel yesterday. I had swatted out a path with the broom before he got in, but additional snowfall filled it back in.

China is one stupid country. They have a one-child-only policy due to their huge population. Recently they made it illegal to have sex-selective abortions because the gender ratio was getting thrown off (the sexists over there prefer boys), but it’s like – duh! If they let them keep aborting girls and throwing the ratio off even more, then that’d help curb their overpopulation problem! They say boys are so popular because they’re seen as able to keep the family line going, and I’m like – hello! You need a woman to do that, too. A man can’t carry children all by himself. That’s just 95% of the population for you, though - plain old stupid.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 7, 2005 We got a few inches of snow out there. The old man in the house across the street is now riding his little snowplow, plowing not only his driveway but the nearby sidewalks as well.

I’m still doing the diet where I don’t eat till the end of my day. I’m back to 127 pounds. That’s about as low as I usually go. If anything, this diet will save money and keep me from going over 130 pounds.

Next month I’m going to try a few of that new site’s 100-packs, but only a few. This is because if their incense sticks are bad, their oil is bad. If the oils are good, however, I’ll probably buy them by the pound rather than the ounce because then I’ll get more for my money.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 6, 2005 I decided to go 24 hours without eating two days in a row, then eat normally. So twice a week I’ll eat normally. I ate normally yesterday which bumped me back up a pound to 128. It’s just that to do it day after day is too hard.

I discovered another incense site that looks promising. Maybe even more promising than IG. There’s no minimum and shipping is free on orders over $100. They have over 1000 scents! Also, I have the option of getting just an ounce of oil for around 2-3 bucks if I want to try a particular scent. They have bags, though they don’t have rings. They also don’t have about 20 of my favorites, but that’s ok. They may be worth it with scents like Caramel Pecan, Candy Corn, Chocolate Chip, Cookies & Cream, Cookie Dough, Mochaccino, Pink Lace, etc. IG doesn’t have these scents. Speaking of them, I still haven’t heard from them which makes me think they’re blowing me off for some reason if something hasn’t come up to prevent them from getting my email.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 5, 2005 Here’s a quick update and then I’m going to take the day off to watch the 3 movies we got yesterday. Every writer needs a break, even me. I might not even work out today.

I was laughing at Tom because he’s still the same 216 pounds he was to begin with while I’m down to 127. Here’s where I doubt I’ll lose much more, though.

Yesterday was easier than the first day, and except for Saturday when we go out for treats, I plan to do this as often as I can where I go about 24 hours without eating, then I have a filling meal. It’s easier than having 6 small things to eat throughout the day because then I never get full. At least this way I have some satisfaction to look forward to at the end of my day.

I did some rearranging yesterday for a few reasons. For one, I didn’t want it to look too homey so I packed some more things. I want it to look like we’re moving on soon enough. I also made it so that Blondie can come in here, though I still have to supervise him because of all the wires. Lastly, it was something to do to take my mind off of food.

At around 3:00 yesterday, Beverly started in with the music, and I said to myself, no way. I don’t care how much time we’ve got left here. I’m not listening to her thumping bass anymore! So I went over there for what I promised myself would be one last time. I say one last time because if this doesn’t curb her bass, nothing will, and if it doesn’t, she’ll be hearing from MY bass. Then she’ll see that yes, it can be heard easily, and she should know this. After all, the hypocrite complained about the people who were here before us doing the exact same thing she is.

So anyway, I knocked on her back door and she seemed surprised to know I could hear her bass, though she said she’d turn it down and she did. I took this as an opportunity to ask what the banging was all about a few Sundays ago and she said it was her grandkids.

Damn, everything’s come back to haunt us! Everything but dogs so far. Everything we tried to run from is back – noisy kids, music, banging, people, bills, etc. There’s just no escaping them!

Anyway, she explained to me that she had her grandkids over to watch a DVD and you know how little kids can be, etc. Yes, I do know. That’s why I decided I was glad not to be able to have any.

In the end, I don’t think she’ll be any quieter (though she’s still just about the quietest neighbor I’ve ever had) and I can’t stop her from having her grandkids visit, so I’ll just have to live with whatever she gives me over the next 116 days, then she’ll be just a memory. I can see where blasting music in here and little kids running around would have driven her crazy and this is why I think she should know better. She’s just one of those who care only when she’s bothered and not when she’s doing the bothering, but we’ll see how things go. If she does act up, I’ll just give her a taste of her own medicine like I said before which is what she’s likely to get when we move. Most people do like to crank up their stereos, and most people, like the people who were here before us, don’t give a shit who they’re bothering. So if she’s here in May, she’ll more than likely be sorry we left.

I now strongly vibe that we won’t be going to the coast of Oregon. Also, last night I could swear I dreamt of Redding! Is this a sign? Tom says it’ll all depend on the job situation. If he can get a good-paying and secure job here, we’re not going to throw away a golden opportunity and throw away good money that we so desperately need. If he can’t get anything more than other minimum-wage jobs, then we’ll probably leave the area. My logic says we will leave the area too, because you usually have to slowly work your way up in a job and climb the ladder to the bigger pay. Most people don’t get good money to start off with.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 4, 2005 Tom was up to $35 on the game site but had a losing streak last night that threw him down to $19. At least he’s still got some money left to try to build back up with.

Anyway, yesterday was a very hungry day for us both, though we achieved our 24-hour fasting goal. At the end of my day, I had a can of ravioli. I was so hungry that I didn’t think it’d make a difference, but it did. I felt quite a bit better, actually, so I decided to do this at least till Saturday when we plan to go out for blizzards at DQ and to Jan’s for a couple of bucks of incense since it could still be a while before I get my order. There’s going to be a 2-day delay as it is since I’m going to have to send them a money order unless they know and trust me enough to ship it first. I sent an email yesterday asking if they had any idea when my order would be shipped, but haven’t gotten a response yet. This isn’t like them, so I hope it’s only because they were overwhelmed with more mail to respond to after the holiday.

Yesterday I ended up having about 700 calories between the ravioli and coffee, and knocking a pound off of me. I usually fluctuate between 127-130 and am currently 128. If I could just get my weight down, then I could move on to the next problem; how to keep it down. Well, I’m going to at least try to hold out again today till the late afternoon. Then I’ll stuff myself with a few baked potatoes, so at least I have that to look forward to. The 3 small meals and 3 small snacks did nothing to fill me up, leaving me always hungry. I did 3 half-hour workouts, but that was too hard on my knees so I think I’ll do just 1-2 today and try to keep busy with my writing, singing and reading, then hopefully we’ll get some DVDs today. Two were due yesterday and one’s due today. This next month will be our last month of DVDs and Webshots. Anything to keep my mind off my growling, protesting stomach!

MONDAY, JANUARY 3, 2005 Well, we got through a peaceful weekend without any shit from Bev or anyone else. All we hear during the daytime is a bunch of birds in back eating seeds from old rotten apples that have fallen off the trees.

We were talking about how fasting for one day every now and then is actually a healthy thing because it gives your digestive tract a break. So we decided to both give it a try today to save money. For someone who’s always hungry, I’m doing okay, but I’m only 6 hours into my day. The closer I get to the end of my day, the harder it gets.

Tom sent a letter to Miss Perfect letting her know we’re broke and won’t be able to write for a while, and I was like, why would you waste a 37¢ stamp on the bitch? She and the queen couldn’t care less. He said he thought I wanted them to feel guilty. First of all, they don’t. Secondly, I’d rather them send us a grand than feel anything, but since that’s not going to happen, I see no point in even communicating or acknowledging these selfish assholes. However, I didn’t think they’d send extra money for Christmas, even if it was a piddly amount, and it’s his family, so if he wants to keep things going with them, he’s entitled to do so. He said he played up our situation big time, not that it isn’t bad enough. I mean, hey, we are about a grand in debt, after all. I know beyond a doubt now that we’re not ever meant to have money, but the question is, are we destined to just not have much extra money? Or to struggle like this throughout the remainder of our lives? He thinks they’ll send us something, though I doubt it, even though I didn’t expect more than the usual for Christmas cash-wise. It’s not their problem so why should they care?

SATURDAY, JANUARY 1, 2005 Klamath Falls, OR Age 39

How glad I am to see the New Year has arrived! I’m amazed at just how relieved I am that it’s finally here. I don’t know if this year will cure our problems, but again, it can’t be as bad as last year was. Except for my birthday and the first time we did the Maricopa swap meet, I can’t think of one good day in 2004! At least Tom didn’t get laid off. Also, it would only cost a fortune to sign me on for insurance, not just him.

I took a shower a while ago and was surprised to find mom and daughter’s place pitch dark when I went to crack the window to let the steam out.

I slept well because I had both the fan and sound machine going. Shortly after I got up, though, I heard a few firecrackers.

If all goes well, we should have 120 days left here and 17 more Sundays for Bev to possibly go banging on.

Because I slept through the time when the annual “psychic window” is normally wide open, I didn’t get much. Just this:

There could be something wrong with one of the back tires on the truck.

We may climb out of debt sometime in March, though we’ll still be broke and probably will be 90% of the time throughout our lives.

Miss Perfect may develop a mild case of cancer at the end of the year or early next year.

Tom’s next job will be in a much bigger building and it may also be computer-related and pay $8.50 an hour.

I may win a medal for Scuttle’s picture.

In an unknown state, we’ll rent a small 2-bedroom house with small rooms and no evil 4s in its numbers. (hopefully in May!)

The house was built in the 50s or 60s, probably late 50s and has white and red exterior colors.

We’ll rent the house till the queen dies in early 2009, leaving us 20 grand to buy a 1600-square-foot manufactured house and Kaori.

The RealDoll people sent me a catalog which I got yesterday. I’ll send it to Paula so she can see what they’re like.

I was shocked to read that a new California law is going to give gay couples benefits and a lot of the same rights straight married couples have. I was shocked because so many people seem to hate gays.

With the Fred Meyer gift certificate, Tom got a new ink refill kit to give our printers at least black ink. That way I can print letters to Bob and Paula, and if he wants to print any résumés for any potential new jobs, he can.

He also got a new wire for my music computer to stop that one channel from going in and out like it started to back down in Arizona.

Later…

Tom just got up and informed me that Bev blasted her music for an hour last night. He said it was annoying enough to be heard in the living room, but that I probably wouldn’t have heard it in the bedroom.

Yeah, I’m not surprised. She’ll probably do it more and more often too, till I complain again. You gotta keep on people to keep them quiet, just like how we had to send periodic city letters to remind the freeloaders to shut up. Tom thinks she only did this because it was New Year’s Eve, but I know human nature when it comes to these kinds of things. You complain, they’re quiet for a while. Then they start acting up again after a while. You complain again, they’re quiet for a while again, and so on and so forth. I swear, though, if I hear any music coming from over there, I’m going to blast my own music for a good hour or two each day that I’m up while he’s at work. If she says anything to me, I’ll just tell her, well, you went back to blasting your own music, so I didn’t think it’d bother you. You want me to stop, YOU stop. However, I’m not going back to the old bullshit of submitting periodic complaints that don’t do me much good. In fact, I’ll be damned if I’ll play that game again.

Like with all the neighbors I’ve had over the past 12 years, I just wish she’d go somewhere for a change! She’s home more than I am. Same with on the other side.

Tom said there were lots of firecrackers going off at midnight. I’m surprised I slept through it all.

Still, I hate being sent back in time like this and having to deal with the neighbor stress all over again!!! I’m going to be so pissed if we can’t get out of here in May!

Later…

Tom and I just discussed a bright idea he came up with that’ll pretty much guarantee our May escape. It really takes a lot of stress off me, too! It doesn’t stop me from stressing over what people around here may do for the next 120 days, but at least I no longer have to worry and wonder if we’ll make it out of here or not.

Tom said I may be inconvenienced because I’ll have to go without Webshots and DVD rentals for a while, and I was like, that’s what you call an inconvenience? Spending 180 days in jail; that’s being inconvenienced. I can always get whatever pictures and DVDs I missed later on. The only thing is that we may have to send Bob a money order for the incense if he can’t get the money for it. I’m sure there will be some sort of problem and delay with it. You know I can’t ever just get something. They know me, though, so I’m sure we can get around whatever problems may arise.

The number one thing, as we both agree, is getting out of here and into a house we can comfortably live in for a few years. If it has to still be in Oregon, oh well. Eureka will wait for us. Whether it ends up being somewhere in Oregon or Redding, California, we’re all for staying in the colder climates till we go to a retirement community. Outdoors, the colder climates just aren’t as noisy as the warmer ones are. The climate doesn’t matter in a retirement community because there would never be any freeloading assholes there to destroy everyone’s peace.

I just hope this is the year we can finally stop starting over! I’m sooo sick of building up just to be torn down and set back, having to give up this, give up that. We didn’t come here for this shit!

I told Tom that while I don’t vibe any upcoming problems with Bev that are any more serious than the annoyances we’ve already had on account of her, we both know it’s better to be safe than sorry, so I think that the next time he sees Pam that he should mention that she’s been noisy. I think he should do it in a casual way and not a complaining way, and make a point of stressing that it hasn’t been that often (unless things change between now and then) and that she’s a nice lady. This way, if there is any trouble ahead that I’m not seeing, they’ll already know she’s been noisy in the past. It just may help us in the end cuz you never do know. They say it’s best to have things documented or at least mentioned and remember, I picked up a noise curse in ’92 and we’re not dealing with a full deck of cards here. She’s not on permanent disability for being fat and ugly. I understand that music and banging go hand in hand with being attached to someone else, but if it does escalate, Pam won’t be so surprised to hear about it if she already knows she gets noisy. What I’m not going to do, however, is go back to the periodic complaints to the source’s face that don’t do me much good, but maybe give me only temporary peace. Instead, if it does escalate I just won’t worry about my own music and noise for the next 119 days. Still, no matter what she has in store for us, I think it’s best to get it mentioned, though I don’t know if he’ll want to. He may be afraid to do so for whatever paranoid reason he may have, and again, he’s always been hesitant to speak out against a neighbor. He’s an Arizonan, and as I learned the hard way, you don’t do that. But this is Oregon, so I hope he will bring it up.

I realized that her working a regular job may not keep her from any future banging sprees or concerts. This is because she only does this in the evenings or on weekends. Working second shift would eliminate evening concerts unless she decided to bump those up to earlier hours, though we’d still have the weekends and those periodic Sunday banging sprees to have to listen to.

I already decided to make our final days here less than pleasant for her. I’m going to stick to my promise of giving what I get, and therefore, once we’ve given our notice and are safe from anything happening to us, she’ll have a few annoyances of her own to have to deal with.

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twilghtkoo · 4 years ago

Text

bf!haechan tiktok series

telling your bf you don’t like his new hair

pairings: bf!haechan x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: small grammatical errors

note: inspired by mullet haechan iykyk i feel like u all should fjsgvs

you were waiting for hyuck in his room at the boys dorms. haechan left early this morning because he had to dye his hair for the comeback, and that process takes awhile so here you were under his covers with his laptop, watching a new episode of a drama.

after you had told yourself ‘one more episode y/n, just one’, it turned out to be three more. you looked outside and the sun was setting now. you grabbed your phone that was beside you on the nightstand.

7:42pm

haechan should be back any minute no-

“honey! i’m home!” speaking of the devil.

you close his laptop and sit up that way your back is leaning against the headboard. hyuck barges in the room, his head covered with a bucket hat, a signature fashion piece for idols.

“are you ready for the lee haechan, most handsome and sexy member and boyfriend,” he winks at you. “new look?” he announces as if he was on his radio show. you giggle, sitting up and crossing your legs.

you cheese, “show me already!”

he grins, his hands going up to grab the end of his hat. teasingly, pulling it up and down. you grab his only pillow on the bed and toss it right at him.

“show me, you brat!”

“alright alright, so impatient.”

he takes off his bucket hat, tossing it beside him on the floor of his side of the room. the back of his hair was longer now, reaching almost to the end of his neck. a mullet. you were pretty sure it was extensions, but still, mullet haechan looked damn good. the tips were platinum blonde, his actual hair dyed a darker shade of brown. he really looked good.

you hum softly, “do you like it?”

“i do actually, it’s different but good different. but do you like it?”

you’re silent for a second. “i mean, i just feel like the mullet really isn’t it..” your face twists with emotions, your shoulders reaching your ears.

his shoulders drop and you swear you can see his ears drop like a puppy. “you always said i would look good with a mullet though.” he points out.

“well- well yeah, i did. but now that i see it in...person- i don’t know.” you stammered.

he nods, turning around to grab his hat off the floor before putting it back on without a word.

“bubs where you going?” you ask, climbing off his bed.

“gonna go hang out with mark-hyung because mark complimented my hair and he said and i quote ‘oh haechan-ah you look cute!’” he quotes mark, even trying to mimick his voice. “because my girlfriend who always told me i would look good with a mullet is now telling me i look ugly!”

you gasp, “hyuck i did not! now you’re being dramatic!” you stifle a laugh, you reach for his hand.

“you basically said that!”

“did not!”

“did too!”

“hyuck, i was kidding!” i swear you’re dating a drama queen.

even with you holding his hand, he walks away with you behind him towards the living room.

“mark doesn’t love you like i love you though,” you huh him from behind. “bubs, i was for real kidding. you really do look damn hot with a mullet and i wish it was real and that you grew your hair out like that.” you genuinely tell him, as soon as you hugged him you felt his body soften.

“i am damn hot aren’t i?”

you try and pull away from him, but he grabs your hands preventing you from unwrapping your arms.

“you just had to ruin the moment.”

“admit that i’m hot.” he pushes.

you roll your eyes, “you’re head is gonna get big.”

he giggles, he turns his body that way he’s facing you. your chin resting on his chest as you look up at him. you reach your hands up to touch his hair.

“you really had me hurt for a second though, not gonna lie, your opinion matters the most to me.” he confesses before leaning down and placing his lips on your nose.

“don’t you ever worry your pretty little choco ball mullet head.” you coo, patting his head.

“you know i hate when you call me a choco ball, it’s like the equivalent to a rabbit pellet.” he deadpans, but he will never admit that when you call him that his stomach does flips and he feels all fuzzy inside.

he will never let you know that.

#haechan #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #lee donghyuck #nct dream #haechan drabbles #haechan x reader #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct donghyuck #nct masterlist #haechan masterlist #nct hyuck #haechan scenarios #donghyuck fic #donghyuck fluff

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susansontag · 3 years ago

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i think it sort of is a class thing, but lower class women just spend a higher percentage of their income to make it happen for them. they also find workarounds like going to cheaper salons or cosmetic schools, getting it touched up less etc. but i think having perfectly maintained salon styled hair is a status symbol that many women are trying to attain.

unrelated but i’m in university rn and i just realized in the last few months how many girls have started bleaching their hair blonde, and how they’ll probably do it for the rest of their lives. it really disturbed me to be honest, to realise that they started doing this thing in college (like a huuuge percentage of them) that they will now see as necessary maintenance of their body for decades, and will cost them thousands or tens of thousands of dollars throughout their lives. it really freaked me out that for women in this group blonde hair is seen as somewhat inevitable. like their mothers probably did the same and they knew as teenagers that they would eventually do this and stuff. idk someone mentioned this but if you look at the wives of nhl players, something like 95% of their wives have dyed blonde hair. like at first you think it’s funny but if you think about it for longer than 5 seconds it’s literally just disturbing. it’s truly a mark of a trophy wife. these men literally do not see women without blonde hair as potential partners. these women see blonde hair as a norm or even requirement for the role they fill in society. it’s horrifying.

oh I totally agree maintaining perfectly dyed hair with no roots showing etc is a status symbol, albeit one many women of different economic classes might try and obtain, but I don't think blonde hair is a status symbol exclusively whilst other dyed hair colours that involve a great amount of upkeep aren't

women in what group see it as inevitable, though? college students? dyeing your hair blonde is trendy and popular among the rich, for sure. I'm not sure if I know enough to say with any certainty that nhl players would only want a blonde wife though... nor have I really heard a woman ever express that dyeing her hair blonde is as essential a ritual as applying makeup or something. idk I'd need more evidence to make the assessment that there's a substantial group of women who see dyeing their hair blonde specifically as fundamentally integral to their image in a way that no other dyed colour is... I think women can see this as being integral to their personal image but blonde being the sole colour this applies to?

if you consider it, the typical natural colours for women are: blonde, brown/black, or ginger. the majority of women worldwide have brown/black hair. the fact you see a lot of women who want to dye their hair, rich or not, dyeing it blonde is no surprise when the vast majority have darker hair

#thank u for the input tho i'm just discussing #i'm not totally convinced when i think many other factors contribute #asks #anon

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 5 years ago

Text

ii. Fun Facts About The Cast | Actor Au | Obey Me

Request: Its not, I love this AU tho

Word Count: 2303 words

Page Count: 6.5 pages

A.N. Hope you guys all like this! Fun facts about the cast lmao

[ Actor AU Masterlist ]

Fun Facts

Benjamin ( Lucifer )

- Is the dad of the cast.

- In any scenes with Dmitri ( Luke ), he makes sure to know if he is alright, and often will stop scenes to ask.

- He also is an overall joker, so he has trouble filming most of his scenes, will often start laughing in the middle of filming and can break character the easiest.

- Best with kids overall, probably due to having his own, keeps their lives private tho.

- His hair was white for a past show, but the directors liked the look, so that's why he has white tips.

- One of the few male characters who cannot do those diets to accentuate his abs- so that's why his character is always covered up.

- He's in shape! But, he likes the fat that protects his muscle, he says he needs to stay soft to hug his kids.

- Known diabetic, so there's a table full of foods so his sugars are stable, the cast has glucagon shots all over the sets to be safe.

- Is in his early thirties, but people say he can pull off early twenties- he just snorts at this.

Avery ( Mammon )

- Takes the job seriously, and his scenes are easiest to film.

- Dark humor and often is the "Lucifer" of the cast.

- Seeing him switch from Avery to Mammon leaves the rest of the cast and crew fucking s h o o k.

- Will always be seen looking his finest.

- No, no one has seen him in public in sweatpants or anything like that. His image is very serious.

- Is a sweetheart when with the rest of the cast tho.

- His eyes are actually that blue.

- No one is sure if his hair is actually white or not, the way he speaks about it is vague, and fans are always theorizing.

- Watching over Benji ( Lucifer ), and is usually the one to tell him to check his sugars, since the other is quite forgetful.

- Is an immigrant from Turkey, so he has an accent, makes people thirst for him more.

- Helps aspiring actors and directors get into the field, and goes on hard work and talent, not who tries to pay him off.

Jackson ( Leviathan )

- Is the resident fuckboi.

- Always with males and females hanging off him, at this point the pop gave up, no- they aren't his partner.

- Flexes a shit ton.

- Wearing chains, a Rolex, and anything designer.

- Donates half of his salary to ocean reserves and protection funds, he has the money for it, and the show pays him well.

- Always at the beach, or near lake houses and shit, the one ( 1 ) thing he likes about his character.

- Hates the fringe he wears with a passion.

- His hair is actually a light shade of brown, his eyes are a darker shade, but still pretty light.

- First generation, his parents are Korean, so you can pick up hints of their accent in his speech patterns. Gets heavy when he's sleepy.

Ross ( Satan )

- Is a stoner.

- Goes on Instagram lives with either MC and gets high, talking about the dumbest shit or he's alone in his room and his cats join in.

- "So, if you think about- oH MY GOD PRINCESS. YES, COME TO DADDY."

- Has a kitten curled up on him, purrs loud as hell because mf is so warm, and the lives turn into purring ASMR sessions.

- Into self care, has a line of vitamins, face masks, and everything you can think of.

- Calls his fans his SaStans.

- Dmitri ( Luke ) is his younger brother.

- Will never let him out of his sight, and they love to be as mean as they can to each other, they love each other but love to bully one another.

- Is from the Bronx, so his accent is what Avery ( Mammon ) mimics for his character, often just records Avery's lines and sends them to him so he can practice.

- Owns an animal shelter he funds.

- "Carol Baskin? Who's that?"

- The REAL tiger king.

- Gets all his cats dyed to look like tigers.

Micheal ( Asmodeus )

- Chill as fuck.

- Has like 5+ kids, so the role fits him perfectly, and now it's an on running joke among fans that they are all his illegitimate children.

- You know why Asmodeus on the show wears so much makeup?

- His eldest daughter is one of the makeup artists, and she loves to try new looks on him, and the producers think it would fit the character well.

- People speculate his age, looks young but is in his late 30's.

- His first child was born when he was 16, so he likes to support safe heavens and things like that for struggling youths- from being kicked out to needing assistance with mental health.

- Tired af.

- Always in sweatpants, him and Ross ( Satan ) are the trademark bums of the cast.

- Thinks it would be hilarious that when Micheal is revealed, in the show, that he plays the character.

- Is a writer as well, TSL is a real series and he writes it, so they let him use it in the show.

- Vlogs in his car, in a Wendy's parking lot, eating a shit ton of food and talking about the most random shit.

- Half asleep in all interviews, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, it's gotten to the point where everyone memes it too.

James ( Beelzebub )

- Himbo.

- One of the few cast members closest to their character.

- Absolute sweetheart.

- He's 20 years old.

- But how is he so fucking big???

- Comes from a big ass family, the middle child, he's baby 4 out of 9.

- All his siblings are redheads too.

- Very playful tho, with the cast always going along with his antics, making for the best bloopers.

- The contacts he wears make him blind af, which doesn't help since he's so tall, and will bump his head on the doorways and such.

- Can speak Scottish-Gaelic, and even has an accent to top it off.

- He is an absolute unit, and one of the characters who does the stupid diet to show off his form.

- Literally on the verge of passing out sometimes, so he needs to rest with Benjamin ( Lucifer ).

- All pictures, shirtless scenes, and such are filmed first so he can rest after and go back to a normal diet.

- Quiet guy, but loves talking about sports and his siblings tho.

- Is always carrying MC and Dmitri ( Luke ) around, now there are many off-guard photos posted to the casts shared twitter+instagram accounts

- Still pretty new to acting, but is amazing at emotional scenes, to the point fans actually think he's having a breakdown.

- Nah, he's just thinking about being alone, without his family- and it gets him bawling for said scenes.

Conner ( Belphegor )

- Crackhead

- Will not stay still, either for filming or just when everyone is chilling.

- Scenes where he's asleep? He's usually turned away from the camera, cause the idiot is smiling and giggling.

- Has tripped over his tail multiple times.

- Comes from a farm-life, literal cowboy, his southern accent just hits hard.

- He hides it very well, but it comes out at times or with certain words.

- Sees Benjamin ( Lucifer ) as a mentor, he's in his early twenties and new to the scene, but they are best friends.

- Benjamin ( Lucifer ) has now acquired a new child.

- A living meme.

- You know how Tom Holland can't keep a secret?

- Yeah, he's worse.

- Rest of the cast have all had to physically stop him from talking at one point.

- The cow pillow? It's actually his, when he got the role his father has sewn it himself, so he will bring it with him.

- It's basically free promo for the show and comforts him in the city space.

- Gets overwhelmed in large crowds, so he usually makes sure to have another cast member close by, or he will literally leave to a less crowded place to take a breath.

- Apologized to MC after the scene in which he kills them.

- His mama raised him right, so he takes MC to his house for a movie, in which they cuddle and relax for the night.

- Felt really bad for like... a whole week.

- "Country boy I love you~"

Thomas ( Barbatos )

- Brat.

- This is one cocky man, he's smooth as hell, and one whisper can make you weak in the knees.

- Grew out the one side of his hair, but he slicks his hair back or will pin it back, dyes it himself when it's time to film.

- Loves to piss Alex ( Simeon ) off.

- Has a true crime podcast with Roman ( Diavolo ), Alex ( Simeon ), and Benjamin ( Lucifer ), because they're all old friends.

- Donates to the cold case foundation because he knows what it's like to lose someone and not know what happened to them.

- He has a twin who is his stunt double, they love to fuck with the rest of the cast, both of them are little shits.

- Is the motherfucker who makes a channel and reads the crackhead fanfics

- Loves every word of it tho.

- Responds to every fans dms. Every. One. As a whole account for this shit.

- Walks with a bit of a limp, so he wears a brace to help even himself, but during wide-shot scenes you can catch it sometimes.

- Took actual classes to be a butler for the role.

Roman ( Diavolo )

- Himbo 2.0

- Catch this man tweeting what he's trying to search up at 2 in the morning.

- Leaves them because it's hilarious, makes videos where he reads them out sometimes, it's all in good fun.

- He has a set of triplets at home, so that dad energy radiates into the show too.

- You know how Diavolo seems sus at points of the game? Yeah, he's still like that IRL.

- The rest of the cast was put off at first, but that's how he is, and everyone eased up pretty quickly.

- Makes jokes that he has family in the Italian mob, but needed to stop once his father called him, saying that there were too many eyes on the family now.

- Man was s h o o k.

- Has sensitive skin, so all his makeup and body paints need to be specially made, made with all natural products.

- The bags under his eyes are baby bags.

- Will bring his kids on set, to which everyone will gush over, and watch them when they aren't filming.

- Very private with his kids ( to the public ), doesn't post about them much, and only the cast really sees them.

- Wine dad.

- Catch him bringing the whole cast out for "family trips"

- People nicknamed him Caesar

- So many JoJo references now

- "SHHHHIIIIIZZZAAAAAAAA"

- "Please, no."

Dmitri ( Luke )

- Is actually 12.

- Quotes vines, tiktoks, and other memes.

- Is one of the few people that Alex ( Simeon ) is openly nice too.

- Also has an accent, but since he's young and is learning, can now mimic every other cast member's accent.

- Wear earplugs for certain scenes, because of how raunchy and dark the scenes can get, so Simeon and Barbatos are always conveniently in the way, hiding the plugs.

- Is Ross' ( Satan ) younger brother, and if he isn't hanging off of him he's with James ( Beelzebub ), Benjamin ( Lucifer ), or MC.

- They know there are some sick fucks in Hollywood so he has an adult with him at all times.

- Posts pictures of him cuddling up to his brother and the kittens, new foods he is trying, and some pictures with family.

- He often is considered the new Gordon Ramsay.

- Had a collaboration with him.

- It was amazing.

- Best boy, catch him taking a nap in his ( and Ross' ) trailer, surrounded by tiger kittens.

- The TIGER PRINCE.

Alex ( Simeon )

- Avatar of wrath who?

- The embodiment of "No talk me, I angy"

- Jkjk, though he does have a temper, he only loses it with Benjamin ( Lucifer ), Roman ( Diavolo ), and Thomas ( Barbatos ).

- A sweetheart with all children though, like you know Simeon on the show?

- Yeah, he's only like that with kids.

- And respectable adults.

- Mama raised him well 2.0

- Grew up in NY

- Born in Gucci and Balenciaga.

- Was a child model and slowly expanded to acting.

- Dark humor galore.

- If Simeon met Alex, he'd probably have a stroke, cause THOSE WORDS are coming out of HIS mouth.

- Says the weirdest shit too.

- "Put your hand on my ass and call me a virgin."

- Bro are you okay???

- He is fluent in five languages and has a high IQ.

- Speaks: English, French, Italian, Arabic, and Mandarin

- Has a support system for children who struggle to learn conventionally, with trained tutors who are affordable, he knows what it's like to need certain needs met to learn, and he wants every kid to get that chance.

- Rough around the edges but has a heart of gold.

Derek ( Solomon )

- Loves to smoke with Ross ( Satan )

- He is more aloof than chill.

- One of the more awkward members, doesn't know how to socialize well, and is very shy.

- Watch out for Dmitri ( Luke ) on the down low.

- Didn't have the best life growing up, so he is a lot more street smart than book smart.

- Doesn't have a big social media influence.

- Very nice to fans, gives full hugs to them, and everyone feels so appreciated.

- Has a husky named Blue.

- Also has an owl, who he took in when he found it on his porch with a broken wing, and nursed it to health.

- He set it free, but she comes back often, and has a nest in the tree closest to his house.

- Named her Lovely.

- Animal person, so he helps Ross out with his animal shelters.

- Uses Blue as a living pillow, and only sleeps in his boxers when Blue is on his bed, because goddamn does that dog radiate heat.

- Him and MC live together, having grown up together, and made their livings together.

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curiousscientistkae · 3 years ago

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oh yeah since I have new peeps here is a rundown of myshe ra kiddos +finally adding some i never talked about. Ages are just to show gaps between kids, they are not "canon". Under the cut stuff. I uh....ramble

Glimmadora:

Harper-20, eldest daughter/child. Born Feb 1st. She/Her, Demi-Bi. Heir to Brightmoon, gets called 'AJ' (Adora Jr) a lot by Glimmer since she looks and acts a lot like Adora. Has shoulder length two toned blonde hair (top half light like She-ra, bottom darker like Adora) with sparkles at the edns, sparkling purple eyes shaped like Adora's, tan skin like Glimmer, glasses, sometimes wears a hearing aid in her right ear. Has cream/purple wing markings on her back that later will turn into feathery cream wings with purple tips.

Sound based powers (cause my brain was like light and sound) but still can create light stuff they just make sounds also. Also can turn invisible. Being unable to control the powers as a toddler, she lost her hearing in her right ear. Everyone in the family knows sign language.

Smart af, witty, as the eldest of all the kids can be protective to a fault, anxious, wants to not fuck up and be a great queen. Will overwork herself and is a perfectionist, though can be forgetful. Is a great shoulder to lean on/be listened to.

Grows to 6' (she got them angella genes (who is alive in this au, not micah) and athletic build like Adora. Named to match the 'er' at Glimmer's name, her sound powers, and the Lyra constellation. Glimmer was the one to have her.

Mira-13, youngest daughter eldest twin. Born July 9th. She/Her, Lesbian, about 5 mins older than Micah. Powerless Princess. Got her great aunt and grandpa's hair color, pale skin (same as Adora), ice blue eyes shaped like Adora's, freckles on face. Usually has hair in ponytail held up by that butterfly pin from princess prom. Also almost always has a red cloak around her. Called 'Mimi'

Born with no magic and not connected to the moonstone (long story short in my au, First Ones cannot use magic without help or it will kill them. Mira got the most FO genes thus she cannot use magic. Whole ass idea i need to explore). Tries to make up for it with fighting skills. While she doesn't show it a lot, she hates the fact she is powerless and will not grow wings either.

Clever, rebellious, loves to explore. Can have a temper to her, wears her heart on her sleeve. Natural born leader. Butts heads with her mothers the most and has run away a few times (once for a very very long time heh). At the end of the day, she doesn't want to be in the shadow of anyone/wants to make her own mark.

Grows to 5'6", chubby build like Glimmer. Named to match the 'ra' in Adora's name and the 'Mi' in Micah's name. OG she was going to have healing powers before I got rid of that so it was also sort for Miracles. 'Mira' is a star, one that is an actual shooting star. Adora was the one to have her

Micah-13, youngest child only son. Born July 9th. He/Him and They/Them. Demi-Boy. Bi, about 5 mins younger than Mira. Has spell powers. Messy, chin length dark purple hair (the same shade as the bottom half of Glimmer's hair), sky blue eyes with sparkles and shaped like Glimmer's, freckles on face. Light tan skin (between his sisters). Has purple wing markings on back and later will get purple feathered wings. Called MJ (Micah Jr) or Mickey

Like his grandfather, great aunt, and Ma before him, he can use spells. Struggles with it but eventually learns he is best at defensive ones. They look up to many of the guards in the castle and wants to be one when he grows up.

Quiet, soft spoken, nervous boy. Def keeps his twin sister from doing something totally stupid. Trusting, sometimes too much, can hold grudges if wronged badly. Tries to see the best in others. Named to honor his grandfather, they want to live up to them and be a great sorcerer

Grows to 5'11, more avg/a bit stocky build. Named to match the 'Mi' with Mira and as Micah is dead in this still (i made them a long time ago) after him. Adora was the one to have them.

Scorpia's Kid

Onca-13, only child of Scorpia. Born May 4th. They/Them. Non-binary Pan. Magicat/Scorpion. OG a scorptra kid but Catra no longer with Scorpia. Has medium length snow white hair, usually in a small pony tail, light brown skin, amber eyes (only iris has the color not the whole eye). Cat fangs and white cat tail. Has those scorpion shouler pads and venom their fangs (not as strong as their mother's) and blue blood. No fur. Called 'Onc' or by Scorpia her 'Lil' Kitling'

Has electrical powers like Scorpia. Venom will only make the part they bite numb, does not fully knock anyone out. Is quick on their feet.

Laid back, quick to adapt, resting bitch face, can be a little lazy, sometimes acts without thinking, and easily distracted. Before growth spurt, they were small and grew a hatred of being seen as always needing help. Just a gentle giant really.

Grows to 6'3, strong build like Scorpia. Named after the latin species name of the Jaguar.

(i so need to work and the following kids more rip)

Bowfuma

Robin-18, eldest son/child of Bow and Perfuma. Born March 20th, He/Him. Gay. Dark brown skin, dark brown, short hair, dark brown eyes. Wears glasses. Has plant powers. Called Robby. Heir to Plumeria.

Plant powers are a WIP kind of, might be like Perfuma or a little dif but is connected to the Runestone. Knows some archery but prefers a crossbow.

Self assured, he knows who he is and what he wants to do, fair-takes both sides of an argument into account. Is the least likely to cause shit. Can be messy and hates when his things are moved. Procrastinator.

Grows to 6', lean build. Named after both Robin Hood, the archer, and the bird

Eliza-16, only daughter. Born Sept 15th, She/Her, Aro/Ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown hair in two braids, dark brown eyes, freckles. Needs glasses but wears contacts. Powers allows her to talk to animals. Called 'Liza'.

Also connected to the runestone, Eliza and talk to animals. She actually started to talk to them before speaking to her parents. When she talks to them, to others it sounds like she is making the animal sounds.

Passionate and loves animals. While her cousin Mira puts her energy into trouble, she puts it into being outside and building things or helping her mom and dad. Hates being stuck inside. Can be whimsical. Loves to be challenged and doesn't back down from stuff, even when maybe she should. Can be a bit dense.

Grows to 5'8", lean build. Named after Eliza Thornberry.

Ash-15, youngest of their siblings. Born Nov 23rd. He/She/They genderfluid. No real label-uses queer. Medium brown skin, medium length, wavy blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Freckles. Has no powers but does not mind it at all.

Unlike his younger cousin, Mira, Ash does not care they do not have powers or are not next in line for the thorn. They are happy to just learn from their father or others. Kind of a jack of all trades.

Has a big heart and a love for all life. Once she is set on something, she sees it through to the end. Very observant of the world and what goes on in it. Can be impatient and doesn’t always take things seriously. Jokes way to often. Free-spirit

Grows to 5'10", thin build like his mom. Named after the type of tree which you could use to make a bow.

Seamista

Newt-18, oldest and only son of Sea Hawk and Mermista. Born Dec 11th, Trans Man He/Him, Pan ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown eyes, short blue hair. Has no runestone powers but can still turn into a merman when in the water.

Newt was next in line for the throne but stepped down, not liking the idea of being a king. He likes to spend time at the beach, swimming, and enjoying being in the sun. Usually keeps his sisters from killing each other.

Hard worker, does not usually slack off, does hate being in the spotlight. Humble. Good at reading emotions. Can lose track of time easily. Has his mother's dry sense of humor. Will faint at the sight of blood

Grows to 5'7", build like Sea Hawk. Named for the salamander that is associate with fire. And with it being an amphibian and transitioning from one stage to another, kind of works there also.

Sandra-15, oldest daughter. Born Mar 7th, She/Her, Pan. Medium brown skin, brown eyes, dark long brown curly hair. Has water based powers (still a WIP whoops). Can turn into a mermaid when in the water.

After her brother stepped down, she is now the heir to her kingdom. Still working a bit on her powers but is connected to the runestone. FIGHTS with her sister all the time.

Very much a girly girl, loves pink, skirts, sparkles, all that jazz. Takes her role as princess seriously. Dutiful and punctual. Hates messes, likes things to be neat. Does not like things randomly being dropped on her.

Grows to 5'8", Mermista's body build. Nickname is Sandy and is called that the most. Named cause yeah....sandy.

Yamuna-12, youngest child/daughter. Born Apr 13th, She/Her, Greyromo/sexual Lesbian. Long blue hair though will dye it many colors, usually orange, light brown skin, brown eyes. Water powers. Cannot fully turn into a mermaid when in the water, just gets webbing and gills.

She can control the temperature of the water around her, freezing it or boiling it at will. Is a great sailor

Pure Sea Hawk child, pretty much his clone. Wild, hyper, will set shit on fire. Takes pride in everything she does. Will blurt out things without thinking and can be pushy. Doesn't like to be told to do things. Zero filter.

Grows to 5'2", small body build. Named after one of the largest rivers in India.

(these guys are VERY WIP so not much to them)

Ada-Entrapta child, on the younger end. Adopted, trans woman, het. Does love robots and what not, helps their mom out a lot. Probably can run on little sleep and still be fine. Name was given to me by my good friend Dorku named after Ada Lovelace, a mathematician and first computer programmer. Very close with Onca

Luka and Felix-Catra's sons, adopted. Both magicats. Catra moves away from everyone and wouldnt really come into focus until much much later when Mira runs off. Luka and Felix idk ages yet but are only a year apart in age. Luka means light (he is one of Catra's lights now) and Felix is a cartoon cat. Would become close friends with Mira later on

(im too lazy to proof lmao and free to ask questions or change stuff up lmao god)

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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years ago

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Moonlight (PJM x Reader)

➵ Your mother has always warned you against entering the forest. Two years ago, your friend Jimin was lost to the trees, with no one brave enough to search after him. But, when you find yourself unable to resist the tug of adventure, you run into Jimin, rumpled, but alive. Can you and Jimin escape the clutches of the forest? And can you discover what- or who- is behind the disappearances that plague your village?

➵ Pairing: Jimin x Reader x ???

➵ Word Count: 3K

➵ Masterlist

Your mother is wrong about a lot of things.

She was wrong about how many yards of fabric it takes to weave a skirt; the village girls don’t want a skirt that goes all the way down to their ankles, it’ll only trail on the ground and make the hem all muddied. She was wrong about the correct method of planting flowers; you often had to replant them all after she had gone to bed to ensure the roots took hold properly. She was even wrong about your father. In the end, he hadn’t been able to overcome the fever.

But one thing she was definitely not wrong about is the importance of not getting lost in the woods.

These woods are home to many folktales. Silly rumours and fancies housewives tell to keep themselves amused, of course, but that doesn’t stop the villagers from drawing their curtains a little tighter at night. Doesn’t explain the two men, four women, and one child who vanished, one by one, moments after venturing into the thicket of trees.

You tug your cloak around you, as if it can protect you from the looming shadows cast by the sun, who’s light can no longer reach you. Blocked by gnarled branches and browned leaves. From the safety of the village outskirts, the forest seemed like a teeming haven of life, brightly coloured flowers you had never seen before bursting from the banks of the grass, swaying lightly in a summer-scented breeze.

You knew your mother — everyone’s mothers, really — warned people explicitly against wandering into the forest, but the berries growing at the foot of that willow tree were just the perfect shade for the scarf that girl, Jeongyeon, if you’re remembering correctly, had requested. And then, when you crouched down to pick them, you saw a cluster of dandelions more rich in colour than any you had ever seen before, and so you willingly went, step by step, deeper into the forest.

And now you find the path you took has somehow become overgrown by brambles.

“Okay,” You whisper to yourself, turning slowly on the spot, trying to catch sight of a clear path to take, “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’ll be back home in time for dinner and mother will be pleased with all the dyes you’ll be able to make.”

Your words, though soft-spoken, are not exactly comforting. The forest, which had sounded so full of life, the shifting of the breeze and rustling plants and birdsong, is now deadly silent. The air seems to absorb every syllable your mouth forms, hollowing it out and spitting it onto the dead leaves blanketing the forest floor.

You decide to retrace your footsteps, sunken into the dry mud and twigs like an embossment. It’s strange, you could have sworn you had come from the other direction, but you guess that your sense of orientation is less than perfect since you can’t make out the sun and your only surroundings are an army of eerily similar trees.

As you move further from the heart of the forest, it almost seems to get darker. You worry the sun has begun to set. Mother must be looking for you. The full-basket swings against your legs, the rustle of the plants within as they shift over each other comforting you somewhat. You’d rather be loud, than be reminded of that heart-wrenching silence at the centre of the forest.

You’re glad you’ve escaped it, certainly. With any luck, you’ll be at home before your mother can use the excuse of anger over your actions to make you scrub the floors of the cottage. Sugar, your grumpy cat, has the unfortunate habit of leaving little presents tucked under rugs and furniture, a not-so-pleasant surprise for whoever’s turn it is to clean.

A whisper. A laugh. Suddenly, the snap of twigs crushed underfoot is not the only sound you can detect. You wonder excitedly if this means the village is just out of sight, beyond the thick gathering of trees and branches. Maybe you’re overhearing the village children playing? You prepare yourself to scold them for wandering this far out. Hopefully they won’t realise that you’re too far out as well, and therefore in no position to criticise.

However, as you grow closer, you realise that it isn’t laughter you can hear. It is the sound of someone weeping.

You break into a run without a second thought. What if they’re hurt? What if they’re scared? What if they’re lost, like you? Except you aren’t lost, you remind yourself firmly, you’re making your way out. It’s just… taking a while.

You stumble into a clearing, which you must have managed to circumvent on your way into the forest, and in the centre… is a boy. A man? You can’t really tell, with the way he’s hunched over himself, strands of dirty blonde hair covering his face.

His shoulders are shaking with the force of his quiet sobs, he doesn’t seem to notice your presence at all as you inch further into the clearing, towards the ray of light that breaks through the forest canopy, bathing him in an almost ethereal glow.

Once you are close enough, you reach out a hand to touch him. He stills, but does not look up.

“Hello,” You say tentatively, brushing over the surprisingly soft fabric of his shirt, “Are you alright?”

You receive no response, and a curl of sympathy tugs in your gut. This could have been you, if you hadn’t the sense to retrace your steps.

“What’s your name?” You try again, and the boy murmurs something inaudible. “Sorry?”

“My name’s Jimin.” He says, and as he finally looks up, you gasp.

Jimin. The first boy that went missing, almost two years ago; his bride-to-be was inconsolable for months. He used to come to you for dye to treat his hair. Your first crush.

“And yours?”

“Huh?”

Jimin’s insistent gaze pulls you out of your memories, his hand outstretched and open. Expectant.

“Your name?”

“You don’t remember me?” You reply, slightly hurt, before hurriedly composing yourself and helping him up. His hands grip tightly around yours, warming slightly as you give him your name. You wonder how long it has been since he touched another person. You squeeze his hand back.

“Remember me?” You try again, “From the village? My mother’s the seamstress?”

“Oh… yes,” Jimin says, a slight smile of reminiscence curving around his full lips, “I remember you.”

“I’m glad.” You smile, swinging his hand between yours. “Come on, follow me.”

You tug him through the forest, following the path you are sure leads back to the village. You don’t know how, exactly, but you can just feel it. Your steps are practically taken for you, the grass cushioning your every move and pushing you onwards.

“So… how have you… survived these past few years?” You ask cautiously, at odds with the curiosity burning on the tip of your tongue. Jimin smiles at you, and you smile back encouragingly.

“It wasn’t very hard, really. The forest is full of things to eat, and natural springs to bathe in. It was… an escape.” He sighs, almost wistful.

Confusion digs a crevice in between your brows — why was Jimin crying when you found him if he was happy here? And… how could anyone be happy, isolated from everyone they’ve grown up around?

But, it isn’t your place to judge him, you remind yourself. After nearly two years on his own, it’s remarkable Jimin is still pleasant to look at, let alone talk to.

“Everyone will be so happy to see you!” You say, to change the subject. “I’m sure you’re glad to know Areum never married anyone else.”

At the mention of his former fiancée, his face darkens abruptly. He stops, forcing you to halt as well since your hands are still tightly intwined.

“I… My fiancée was actually part of the reason why I left.”

For perhaps the fifth time in the past few hours, you are shocked.

“You- You left… voluntarily?”

“I did not wish to marry her.” Jimin replies simply, and you gape at him.

“So you’d rather live in the wild? Areum is the prettiest girl in the village!”

“She is not.” Jimin states, looking you dead in the eye, “Besides, I do not want to marry the prettiest girl, or the girl my parents picked out for me so I would give them grandchildren. I wanted…”

Jimin trails off, his dark eyes flashing as the sun catches them. Under the light, they reflect it back as pure snow, the bright shade almost hard to look at. Your gaze drops to the ground.

“…I want to marry my one true love.” Jimin finishes, quietly but no less fervent.

“But, if your one true love wasn’t Areum, then who…”

Jimin simply stares at you, and you blanch.

“It- it isn’t…it can’t be…” You flounder, but his gaze refuses to waver. “Me?”

“Who else?” He says, and you splutter. You try to drop his hand, but he merely tightens his grip, and you have to remind yourself that Jimin has been on his own for the past two years, and you should be patient with him.

“I- Jimin. I am sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

Though his expression doesn’t alter, something changes in his eyes. He becomes a little less open, and a little more guarded. The guilt doesn’t waste any time before flooding into you with sadistic relish.

“Just…let’s just get back to the village, and everything will be okay.”

“…Okay.” He eventually replies, and you give him a gentle smile. He does not return it.

You can’t tell how much time passes. Neither sunlight nor moonlight can break through the leaves, and with Jimin everything seems to pass by much slower. The guilt you feel over turning him down — god, you’re the first person he sees in two years and almost the first thing you do is reject him — weighs down your every step, until you are almost trudging.

You don’t even notice the branch leaning down overhead, directly in your path, until Jimin holds it up as you pass beneath with a strength you didn’t know he possessed. You guess living in the forest must have hardened him, even though his cheeks have that familiar, soft curve, and his light hair looks as silky as it always did.

“Thank you,” You murmur, and he laughs quietly behind you. Perhaps because of your voice, which sounds as tired as your muscles feel.

“It’s my pleasure.” He replies, squeezing your hand a little tighter. You grip it back, happy that he seems to have forgiven you for earlier, or at least forgotten.

You come across a flight of steps carved into the mud, edged with boards of carved wood. They trail off out of the forest, and you take the opportunity to rest, sitting down on the first step and dangling your legs over the ledge.

Jimin sits beside you, and you’re too exhausted to stop yourself from leaning against his side. He kindly wraps an arm around you to steady you. You had forgotten how nice Jimin was, before he left. You’re very lucky you found him, you decide, otherwise you really might have gotten lost.

You trail a finger over the whorled design carved into the wood beneath you, trying to decipher what looks like an entirely different alphabet. There are etchings too, small figures dancing and drinking and… procreating — you move your finger away from that panel with a blush — and you are struck with a realisation.

“These steps… they’re manmade, of course, they have to be. That means… we must be getting close to the edge of the forest!”

Jimin chuckles as your fatigued, slurring voice gives a weak attempt at excitement, stroking his hand over the curve of your waist.

“I guess it does. Do you want me to carry you? You must be getting quite tired now.”

“No… ‘m strong,” You insist, but don’t protest as he kneels in front of you, scooping your bent legs and securing them at either side of his thighs, looping your arms around his neck as he stands with you plastered along his back.

“Of course you are, dearest.” He breathes, not winded at all as he begins running down the steps.

His footfalls are light, you notice, like he’s prancing down the steep incline. You remember he always used to dance at the maypole festival, and how magical, ethereal he appeared to you back then. You had begged your mother for weeks afterwards for dancing lessons, but she had told you there simply wasn’t the money.

Your weight does not seem to be any added burden for him as he practically flies down the steps. Your eyes are drooping closed, but you stubbornly wrench them open each time, wanting to see the outskirts of the village appear once you finally reach the end of the stairs. You don’t remember using them to enter the forest, but- well. This must be a different way out.

Except, the village does not appear at the end of the steps. Jimin sets you down by the roots of a colossal tree, which you can’t believe you haven’t noticed before. The clean white bark stretches a mile into the sky. The thick roots form a sort of seat around you, and the grass beneath you is soft, comforting. Under the shade, it almost appears blue.

“Jimin, w-why are we stopping? Do you… do you need a rest?”

Jimin laughs, but this time, it sounds more high-pitched. Less controlled. A shiver trips down your spine uncomfortably, rung by rung, like it’s being held back at every step. Like he wants you to remain calm.

“That’s very considerate of you, my dearest, but I’m alright.”

“T-then-” You struggle to say, wondering if you’re really this out of shape, that a day’s walk can wind you so much. But, to be honest, you don’t know if it’s been a day. Time seems to trickle by like honey. “Then… why are w-we, uhm… stopping?”

“Because we’re here.” Jimin smiles unsettlingly.

“Here?”

“Well,” He deliberates, “We aren’t there yet, but this is where we have to be. As soon as the moonlight comes out, we’ll get there.”

“J-Jimin, what’s…um, what’s going on?” You ask, feeling an edge of hysteria come into your voice, “When are we going home?”

His laugh this time feels like a scream. Not his scream. Yours. It warms in your mouth, but before it can spill out, something tugs it back. An invisible hand wraps itself lovingly around your throat, and you realise you can no longer speak.

“Oh, you’re just as naïve as he was.”

…what?

Jimin reads the question in your eyes, or does he? Can he hear it rattling around your head? Can he taste the word on your useless, unspeaking lips?

“When he first came to this forest… oh, he was desperate. They say love makes fools of us all, but, it really possessed him mind and soul.” Jimin laughs again. He seems to be much more comfortable now, happy as you lie against the roots of the tree, unmoving. “You don’t understand why that’s funny yet, but don’t worry, dearest, I’ll explain. I love seeing that look in your eye.”

“Jimin loved you more than I’ve ever seen anyone love anything, but his love didn’t make him strong. It made him into a coward. He could barely look at you before he was running away again. Don’t you wonder why he bought all that dye from you?”

Jimin paces along the ground as he talks, but-

He isn’t pacing, he’s floating. The air prevents Jimin from crushing the grass under his bare feet, buoyed along the invisible currents of the jasmine-scented breeze wafting around the base of the tree.

“He heard talk of the Faeries, and he came to us, begged us to make him strong. He promised to lure in tributes for us, bring us other things to play with, as long as we promised never to harm you.”

If you had control over your own breath, it would have stopped cold. The other missing boy. The missing women, all regular attendants of Jimin’s dance class. The little girl, who’s mother had cried for weeks after her disappearance. Who had been found dead in her cottage two days after she was told to give up looking.

“And so, we fulfilled our side of the bargain accordingly. We made him strong, brave, worthy… by making him one of our own.” The thing wearing Jimin’s face smiles, and it’s the ugliest sight you’ve ever seen. “I became him, and he became me. Hello.”

“You… you killed him.” You groan, and Jimin coos.

He crouches in front of you, reaching a hand out to stroke the side of your face. If you had the energy, you would bite him.

“Don’t worry, my love, he’s still here. You talked to him earlier, actually. As soon as we realised you were lurking on the outside of the forest, he became very excited. Insisted that he should be the one to talk to you first. It’s only after you turned him down that I took over.”

Jimi- the faerie’s eyes glow white, and you realise that it wasn’t sunlight reflecting in Jimin’s eyes back then. It was madness.

“After all this time living inside of his head, I have grown rather… fond of you. I love you as he does, and we’ve decided to share you.”

“I don’t… I don’t want you…” You mumble, and Jimin smirks, gathering you in his arms again and standing up.

“It doesn’t matter what you want anymore, beloved. You’re ours, remember? You gave us your name.”

A bolt of light strikes a leaf. A flash of memory, shoved from his mind to yours.

“My name’s Jimin. And yours?”

A hand outstretched, expectant, waiting impatiently for an offering.

A smile as you give him your name.

Your mother had always told you not to go into the forest, and you had never thought to ask why, blissfully ignorant as you fell headfirst into a faerie’s trap.

“That’s…not…” You try to struggle, and find that you can’t, “I… I didn’t k-know-”

“Oh, I know you didn’t, my love.” Jimin coos as his stranglehold on your mind tightens, “It’s okay, don’t fuss, it’ll be alright. I’m taking you home.”

“The… the village?” You ask hopefully, and Jimin snickers, delicate and so heartbreakingly cruel.

“No, my home. Our new home.”

The moonlight shatters through the forest canopy like glass, and Jimin pulls you down into the faerie realm, never to return to the warmth of sunlight again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin x reader #park jimin #yandere! au #yandere kpop #bts reader insert #yandere bts #bts au #park jimin fic #supernatural yandere au #yandere jimin #bts x reader #Yandere jimin x reader #yandere bts x reader

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niksixx · 4 years ago

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New Generation: Meet the Kids

I know many of you have been waiting patiently for anything New Generation related, and I am happy to say I have finally completed a list of the NG kids! I hope you enjoy reading about my little characters, and I can’t wait to write a few little stories about them.

A few shoutouts first. To all of you who have contributed to the characters’ personalities by sending in messages to my inbox, thank you. You have all made this series possible. I did my best to incorporate my own vision of the NG kids as well as your ideas to create something fun for us all. Second, a big shoutout to @pepeu-stuff for inspiring me. They have gone out of their way to draw a few characters (Farrah, Ezra, etc.) with their own interpretation and have inspired some of the traits for my characters. I truly cherish all of you, and I hope you enjoy the NG kids as much as I do.

A/N: Also, this is just a fanfiction. I tried my best to incorporate Crüe’s and GNR’s personalities into their ‘children’ but we all know kids can 100% be completely different from their parents. 🤗

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Meet the Sixx Kids

Nash Sixx

Nash Sixx is the nineteen-year-old son of Nikki Sixx. He has dark hair and blue eyes with specks of green and a jawline most men would kill for. Like his father, he has an outgoing personality and a killer smirk that’s manipulated people into giving him what he wants more than once. He’s a college student that is studying music education, as he would like to be a music teacher. One of his best friends is Declan Rose, and he’s taught Declan a few tips and tricks when it comes to schmoozing the ladies. He’s also a big partier, and loves having his friends and cousins over to his college apartment. Nash’s favorite pastime though is sitting around the bonfire, glass of whiskey in his hand, while his father tells him stories of life on the road with Mötley Crüe.

Harlow Sixx

Harlow Sixx is the six-year-old daughter of Nikki Sixx. She has dark brown hair with clear blue eyes and free-spirited energy. Harlow and Penelope Lee are a package deal and will go nowhere without each other. She’s creative by nature, and sometimes will paint during rainy days. For a six year-old, Harlow is ridiculously intelligent. And just like her father, she has interests in photography and art.

Colby Sixx

Colby Sixx is the two-year-old son of Nikki Sixx. He has Nikki’s natural light brown hair and light blue-gray eyes. He loves finger painting with his sister, playing with toy cars, and putting together puzzles.

Meet the Lee Kids

Penelope ‘Penny’ Lee

Penelope ‘Penny’ Lee is the five-year-old daughter of Tommy Lee. She’s a little girl with wavy brown hair (usually in pigtails with little bows attached), big brown eyes, a love for bright pink tutus, and has a bubbly, outgoing personality. She’s the spitting image of her father, and she has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. Penny Lee enjoys her dolls, her teddy bears, and tea parties. She’s been raised to be an independent child and loves exploring nature and making pretty flower bouquets. Penelope can be friends with anyone, and at five-years-old, she’s already shutting down the bullies who make fun of the other kids at preschool.

Meet the Mars Kids

Dillion Mars

Dillon Mars is the seventeen-year-old son of Mick Mars. He’s tall, lanky, with soft brown hair, blue eyes, and a sarcastic attitude. He’s not as quiet as his father, but he has his moments. Dillion tries not to take life too seriously, which is why he and Isaac Stradlin get along extremely well. Dillion has no interest in school, although he’s extremely smart in math and science. He’s president of his school’s mathletes club though he was pressured by his teachers and hates disappointing others. Most of his time is spent on the living room aimlessly playing his guitar, Luckily, Dillon did not inherit his father’s bone disease, but he is a huge vodka drinker and occasionally will smoke cigarettes with the Stradlin twins and Ryan McKagan.

Meet the Neil Kids

Katerina ‘Kat’ Neil

Katerina ‘Kat’ Neil is the eighteen-year-old daughter of Vince Neil. Kat’s thin blonde hair is usually styled straight or into two space buns on the top of her head with a few pieces framing her face. Green eyes the color of emeralds, she’s the chick every girl wants to be, and the girl every guy wants to be with. Katerina is friendly to all, but she’ll never let anyone take advantage of her kindness. As a senior in high school, she takes pride in being the captain of the cheerleading team, a lead choreographer in the dance club, and the president of the drama club. While the most popular girl in high school could have any boy she wanted, there’s only one boy that Katerina has ever been interested in. Unfortunately, that boy is Declan Rose, the son of her father’s arch enemy, Axl Rose.

Carson Neil

Carson Neil is the fifteen-year-old son of Vince Neil. Carson’s shoulder length blonde hair resembles his father’s, and he was gifted with a singing voice that could cure the world’s problems. He’s mature for his age, which is why most of his friends are a few years older than him. Carson can be a bit stuck up though and a bit of a prima donna. When he’s not busy rehearsing lines for his school's theater productions, Carson is confined to his room blasting Aerosmith, Ozzy Osborne, and writing his own lyrics to songs he’ll never share.

~~~

Meet the Rose Kids

Declan Rose

Declan Rose is the eighteen-year-old son of Axl Rose. He’s the spitting image of his father, except with shorter ginger hair with longer pieces framing his freckled face. Declan is unique in the fact that he refuses to follow in his father’s footsteps. While he enjoys listening to rock and his father’s old vinyl collection, Declan prefers hip-hop and rap music, much to his father’s dismay. Like Axl, Declan is extremely intelligent, and would decide to major in philosophy or psychology in college. He also does have his father’s temper, and while sometimes his father was misunderstood, Declan is lucky to have Katerina Neil around. She calms him down and supports his true personality, even if they have to keep their relationship hidden from their parents.

Easton Rose

Easton Rose is the eight-year-old son of Axl Rose. Easton was lucky enough to inherit his father’s hair color, but instead of the long locks, Easton’s hair is shorter and usually styled with gel. The eight-year-old is as stubborn as they come with a hyper and fiery personality to match his hair. He’s an athletic young boy who is also extremely personable and will talk to anyone. He’s impatient, especially when he wants his older brother Declan to help him with homework or play baseball in the backyard with his best friends Logan Adler and Hunter McKagan. Easton is a little flirt and has no problem charming ladies of any age. Easton also has a big crush on his brother’s girlfriend, Kat.

Calla Rose

Calla Rose is the five-year-old daughter of Axl Rose, and she is the queen of the household. Calla is the only child with blonde hair, but every now and again Axl dyes pieces of her pink (with temporary spray on hair color of course) to match the large gemstone on the tiara she wears around the house. Calla Rose is quite shy around other people, and it takes her a good twenty minutes before she’s able to muster up the courage to play with other children in preschool. Axl Rose is fully wrapped around his daughter’s finger, and it’s not shocking to catch them in the midst of coloring, ballet dancing, or playing with dolls.

Willa Rose

Willa Rose is the four-month-old daughter of Axl Rose. She’s a chubby baby with ginger hair and big hazel eyes. She loves making faces at her big sister and listening to her daddy as he sings her to sleep at night.

Meet the McKagan Kids

Ryan McKagan

Ryan McKagan is the sixteen-year-old son of Duff McKagan. If teenage girls could use one word to describe this boy, it’s this: heartthrob. He’s tall with wavy blonde hair and a welcoming smile, it’s no wonder the girls in high school drool over him. Ryan can be found exercising (as he’s a hockey player) or running around his neighborhood five days out of the week. Ryan does smoke cigarettes and drinks on occasion, much to his father’s disapproval. Ryan tries not to take life too seriously and would have definitely picked up on some of his dad’s lame jokes. Around his neck is the letter ‘F’ attached to a gold chain as it’s the first initial of his girlfriend’s name, Farrah. Even if they have a rough relationship (thanks to Ryan being a typical flirt around other girls) he’s confident Farrah is the girl for him, so he never takes the necklace off. While Ryan didn’t necessarily inherit many of his father’s traits, what he did receive is the ability to sing. His father has taught him how to play guitar, and they’ll sit on the porch outside in the fall, singing and strumming to Guns N’ Roses old songs.

Hunter McKagan

Hunter is the seven-year-old son of Duff McKagan. Hunter’s hair is darker than his older brother’s, but lightens up in the sun. The seven-year-old boy loves to swim and skateboard (lessons are provided for free by Dillon Mars, Issac Stradlin, and Ezra Hudson), and he’s an absolute terror when he chases his family around the house shooting Nerf gun darts at them. He’s also the reason Duff cannot find his cowboy hats, as Hunter will usually steal them and wear them throughout the day.

Meet the Hudson Kids

Ezra Hudson

Ezra Hudson is the eighteen-year-old son of Saul ‘Slash’ Hudson. Ezra is a bit shorter than his father, and yet could be his brother. Ezra was blessed with the most beautiful curls, and unlike his father he usually keeps them out of his face with headbands or ponytails. Ezra doesn’t have just one style, either. Somedays, he’ll dress head to toe in leather. Other days he prefers flannels and jeans, or button ups and khakis. Ezra is definitely a gamer. He also enjoys hiking, fishing, and hunting. He’s also into music, but is still learning how to play acoustic guitar. College is not in the cards for Ezra, as his dream is to form his own band. As for Ezra’s love life, he’s a total chick magnet. Unfortunately, he’s invisible to the only girl he wants: Isabel Stradlin.

Mali Hudson

Mali is the six-year-old daughter of Saul ‘Slash’ Hudson. She and her sister Maya were also blessed with their father’s glorious curly hair, and they’re damn proud of it. Mali’s hair is only to her shoulders, which is how you can tell twin from twin. At just six-years-old, little Mali has a plethora of hobbies such as origami, bracelet making, and flower pressing. Many of her crafts are given to either her parents or Farrah Adler.

Maya Hudson

Maya is the six-year-old daughter (also the oldest twin between herself and Mali) of Saul ‘Slash’ Hudson. Maya has no problem wearing identical outfits with her sister, but their personalities couldn’t be more opposite. Maya loves to wrestle with her older brother and cousins (especially Declan who refuses to wrestle back for fear of hurting her) as well as having interests in dinosaurs, rock climbing, karate, and reptiles (she convinced her family to adopt two snakes and a lizard).

Meet the Stradlin Kids

Isaac Stradlin

Issac Stradlin is the seventeen-year-old son of Izzy Stradlin. With dark shaggy hair, bright eyes, sharp jaw and toned body, Isaac comes off as intimidating at first glance. He can be intense about the things he is passionate about (music, poetry, history) but more often than not Isaac is laidback and easygoing. Isaac’s musical knowledge comes from what his father has taught him through the years, and he’s incredibly talented when it comes to playing instruments such as guitar, drums, keyboard, flute, and trumpet. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his father’s dark and gloomy style of dress that includes black jeans, black button ups, and even black hats, as he feels more comfortable in sweatpants and tank tops. As Isaac is the only boy that doesn’t mind babysitting and playing with the little girls, he has accidentally found himself a fan club whose members consist of Penny Lee, Calla Rose, Harlow Sixx, and twins Mali and Maya Hudson.

Isabel Stradlin

Isabel Stradlin is the seventeen-year-old daughter of Izzy Stradlin and the younger of the two between her and her twin brother, Isaac. Isabel marches to the beat of her own drum and has what most would call a ‘bone to pick with the world’ attitude. Isabel has had many different styles, but her current wardrobe is grunge. Isabel considers herself a humanitarian, constantly joining in protests while simultaneously volunteering at homeless shelters and soup kitchens. Because of her compassionate heart, it’s no secret that she and Farrah Adler are inseparable. Isabel would inherit her father’s artistic ability, but her art would range from pottery to graffiti portraits.

Meet the Adler Kids

Farrah Adler

Farrah Adler is the sixteen-year-old daughter of Steven Adler. Her blonde hair is mostly straight with a few layers here and there, and she has the same vibrant and playful eyes as her father. Farrah’s style is mostly hippie influenced (but on occasion she can rock a leather jacket and bandana), and she has more of a laid back personality, something she absolutely did NOT get from her dad. As someone who treasures the beauty of the Earth and its creatures, Farrah would join in rallies such as ‘save the sea turtles’ and volunteer at animal hospitals, where she discovered her calling as a veterinarian. Oh, and she’s 100% vegetarian. Farrah has a peaceful aura, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she enjoys yoga, astrology, essential oils, journaling, and smoking weed. She also has an on-again-off-again relationship with Ryan McKagan, who she drags to many wildlife rallies.

Logan Adler

Logan Adler is the nine-year-old son of Steven Adler. He has wavy blonde hair past his neck, playful gray eyes, and a love for drumming. Logan inherited his father’s happy-go-lucky spirit, and loves to meddle into his sister’s business when he’s not playing sports or building legos. He definitely is the class clown and loves being the center of attention, which usually results in him being sent to the principal’s office. He’s a jokester, a prankster, and loves getting into trouble.

#niksixx new generation kids #motley crue fanfiction #guns n roses fanfiction #motley crue imagines #guns n roses imagine #nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #axl rose #saul hudson #steven adler #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #gnr fanfic #motley crue fanfic #80s fanfic

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xxxsoukokuxxx · 4 years ago

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Twisted

Character: Dazai Osamu

Warnings: dark themes, depression, mentions of suicide, self-harm, graphic descriptions of blood

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write this out for a while now so yeah. Please be warned there’s trigger warnings as I mentioned above. I hope everyone is having a good day/night. Yeah you’re gonna suffer reading this along with Dazai

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Deafening silence filled Yokohama. It was almost eerie. The midnight sky as black as coal. Everyone should be asleep by now, resting in their comfy beds, escaping into their own dreams. But that’s not the case for everyone. Not everyone has a peaceful sleep, not everyone has a comfy bed to rest on, not everyone has pleasant dreams, not everyone is safe enough in their own head even when asleep.

A dark and shadowy figure walks about in the darkness of the kitchen. It blends in so well as if it is one with the darkness. But this figure can see exactly what it’s doing, exactly where it’s going. It doesn’t necessarily like the lights on.

The shadowy figure, Dazai Osamu, made his way from the kitchen into the bedroom of his apartment. He doesn’t sit on the bed but instead he sits on the floor resting his back against it. His head tilts up and he stares at the ceiling. His tired eyes narrow and finally he closes them.

His pitch black mind dyes itself with blood. Blood dripping out of innocent people who lay dead on a vacant street. In his mind he finds himself dressed in his Port Mafia attire with loose bandages twirled around his pale skin. Scarlet red cuts with blood dribbling out of them were littered all across his arms. The bandage on his left eye started getting soaked with his own blood and dripped down the side of his face.

Dazai’s eyes fly open and he breathes heavily. He prefers to have his nightmares with open eyes. The brunette looks down at the dangerously sharp knife he brought from the kitchen in his right hand and stares at it blankly. Almost as if his eyes were empty, but they weren’t, not this time.

He slowly takes off his bandages that were covering his scarred skin on his left arm and he just looks at it for a while before picking up his knife and glides it gently across his skin, not applying enough pressure yet to break the skin. His eyes get teary, unable to hold it back, droplets fall from his eyes to his arm coating it in sorrow.

His eyes widen and a painful yet chaotic smile is on his lips. His dark circles getting darker. He looked the very same way as he did plenty of times before, of course away from everyone else’s eyes. But there was one time where he failed to hide it, it was when he was fifteen and he shot the dying man on the ground mercilessly, with a smile on his face, in front that man as well as his ex-partner Chuya.

This time however, the dying man…is him. He gives off a quiet psychotic giggle, loud enough only for him and his demons to hear. This time he applies enough pressure to his arm with the knife to break the skin and a red line followed the tip of the sharp knife. It didn’t bleed though it would leave a scar. He cuts himself again just lower than the previous but this time, he swipes harshly at his skin with the knife and it cuts deep, letting his blood break free and little red beads formed on the place where he had cut before dribbling down his arm.

A searing pain shoots through his burning skin and flesh but he doesn’t even wince. Instead he laughs maniacally and swipes brutally at his skin at least five times more. All whilst smiling at his own pain. The knife becomes coated in his blood as well as in his pain. He’s twisted, painfully and beautifully so.

He drags the knife across his skin and then he narrows his eyes. His lips press into a thin line and he throws the knife with much force against the wall. He hooks his arms around the front of his knees and pulls them closer to his chest. The brunette rocks back and forth as insanity takes over him. It feels as if there’s a darkness looming over him. Like a person hovering over him from behind ready to grab him, but it’s not a person to him.

He puts his head down on his knees and he…cries. His messed up chocolate brown hair draping a little over his knees as tears soak his clothes. It’s painful, agonizing. He feels so painfully empty but he’ also so terribly full that he feels as if he’s drowning. He has no chance at actually ‘living’ it’s just a painful existence.

Yet he keeps up this happy and carefree act without fail in front of colleagues, clients, anyone and everyone. It’s tiring, emotionally draining. His red eyes seem to stop shedding tears as if it’s too tired to cry anymore. He mentally punches himself because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to cry that he doesn’t deserve to be unhappy because he’s brought so much pain to others. He doesn’t even think he’s human. A lot that we don’t know about happens behind closed doors.

He picks up his heavy head and looks around the room. The deafening silence drives him crazy, it’s too silent. He stares into the vacancy of his apartment and sighs. He chuckles weakly and gets up, carrying the knife with him and goes into the kitchen. He leaves the knife down on the countertop and sits down on the only chair that there is. Before doing so he puts his kettle on and waits for the water to boil.

Dazai knows he wouldn’t be able to sleep now, no matter how hard and desperately he tried. Perhaps he wasn’t even deserving of sleep. His arm is littered with beautiful scarlet red cuts, the blood drying a little now. Beautiful when the damage is done. He looks…empty yet filled with darkness. Perhaps he doesn’t want to close his eyes, he prefers his nightmares with open eyes.

#oneshot #scenario #general fic #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs #trigger warnings #tw:self harm #tw:suicidal thoughts #pain #just so much pain #emptiness and heaviness #make a deadly combination #also can someone tell me how to make my text colorful?#like I'd like the heading to be red #so yeah #please

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just-a-tiny-ghost · 4 years ago

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The "tip of the hair” thing from anime characters.

We all know these characters who have funny hair color ranging from bright pink to sparkling white, passing by mysterious purple. It’s almost an unspoken rule not to ponder too much on the color of characters’ hair, because it’s so cool!

Here are some theories/possibilities on the reasons behind the tip of the hair!

(Please do not take any of these seriously)

Warnings: please do not take this seriously, fight scene, 5 scenarios within the theories, last scenario being just plain mean… (~4k words)

Characters: Kita Shinsuke, Kocho Shinobu, Yushiro, Tokito Muichiro, Yashiro Nene, Ishigami Senku, Akugatawa Ryuunosuke, Zenin Naoya

1st part: It’s naturally like this. “The ‘natural’ hair color”

It’s just like childhood blond people.

The people who are born blond, live through their childhood being blond and then, treason. Their roots start to darken, spreading the brown over the blond and they are no longer Primrose but Katniss. And it’s difficult, you know, to explain that they are blond because they are going through a strange phase where they no longer know the color of their own hair (*sniff*, just kidding).

So, it’s just like this, the roots are brown but often the tip of the hair is of a lighter color (blond, even ginger in certain places). You take this, and you reverse it, making so that the roots are lighter, and tips are darker.

Example: Kita Shinsuke, Haikyuu

Here you have baby Shinsuke, with the same natural hair color as when older.

(psst, imagine also if during summer his hair darkened more, just like people have them more blond).

It’s a new kind of molecule. (Part 1)

There was a mutation, the melanin mutated help! Other than the eumelanin (dark/brown) and the pheomelanin (red/yellow), another one appeared giving people crazy (cool) hair color! What’s more is that this one actually moves.

Example : Kocho Shinobu, Demon Slayer

Notice first, this beautiful purple. What do we also notice? The ratio and the defined line, just as if all hair should go from black to purple at the same exact point.

This is NOT a coincidence; this molecule can travel. I will explain that; so, we notice that younger Shinobu’s hair are shorter than when she is 18/19. However, as her hair grow longer there is more purple that is appearing? Shouldn’t there be lesser purple? No and we can thank this new, heroic molecule.

New systems developed inside the follicle, and they can sense, perceive the ratio of the colors. As the hair grow longer, more of this molecule will be created and sent to the extremity of the hair, allowing Shinobu to always have the same black/purple ratio on all the affected hairs, which explain the clear line as they are roughly the same length.

It’s a new kind of follicle. (Part 2)

And a lazy one at that! While working efficiently at the beginning, it soon becomes so lazy that it thought about just letting the regular black/brown/ginger/blond color instead of continuing working hard to color the hair a beautiful shade.

Example: Tokito Muichiro, Demon Slayer

(In his case, the follicle just forgot)

The Marie-Antoinette syndrome

The Marie-Antoinette syndrome is when someone hair suddenly turn white due to an intense stress.

The name came from folklore about the hair of Queen Marie-Antoinette of France (1755-1793), who during the night before her execution by guillotine, had her hair turn white in her cell due to stress.

The Marie-Antoinette syndrome could have had another name as Thomas More in 1535 also had his hair suddenly whitening the night before his execution, there were several cases of the syndrome throughout history, but no research suggests that we can lose hair color overnight. Yet, stress do cause hair to whiten, not overnight, but progressively.

Example: (well, might as well go with the same manga) Yushiro, Demon Slayer

I’m actually pretty sure this is due to stress as before meeting Tamayo he was sick and he may have had a time where all his hair were black, but the stress just came back when he realized how much he loves Tamayo and how many potential rivals he could have (lol). (assuming his hair continue to grow, but we know it’s not *sigh*)

So, this was all for now for the “natural” hair color part. Now, just imagine them just after they cut their hair.

You tilt your head sideways, examining Shinsuke’s hair while sipping your juice from under the shadow of the peach tree.

The sun was scorching, obliging him to wear his hat while gardening but not preventing you from taking sneak glances at his new hairstyle —diligently cut by his grandmother— the missing black color at the tip of his hair still slightly disturbing you.

When you saw him that day, your accustomed-to-seeing-him brain went into a frenzied panic assuming a non-existing threat from the sudden change in the pattern of his hair. You, without having a choice, followed behind this archaic brain of yours, metamorphosing into a stuttering, eyes-avoiding mess when your heart won the fight with your brain and decided that this would fluster you.

The day was spent in his bedroom, playing with his hair sometimes brushing them in the opposite direction, their straightness prickling your palm sometimes just rolling a strand between your fingers, eyes prying for even the tiniest spot of black leading you to conclude that they had all been cut off.

Your view of your boyfriend is suddenly blocked… by the face of said boyfriend. The blank stare on him was too much, as it was all he saw whenever he turned around to check on his resting girlfriend, leading him to come nearer.

“Hey, are you feeling all right?” He approaches his hand to you head, brushing your baby hair out of your face. “Even with a hat and sunscreen, maybe the sun was too strong? We can go inside and rest if you want to.”

You pull him to sit next to you, taking his hat off by the process and raising your head to scan the sky through the branches and leaves protecting you both.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you reach behind you and dive your hand in the cooler, grabbing a cool bottle of water, “you should drink a little though and we have to go back soon granny is going to worry, and I don’t want her to come outside to search for us in this kind of weather.”

You battle a little bit and screw off the cap to hand the bottle to him, which he takes and grace your fingers with a kiss right after.

“I am still not used to not seeing the black tips in your hair. Sorry I was staring,” you apologize.

He laughs it off, internally relieved that you were not mad or rehearsing a prank forged with the twins in your head.

He still had some influence on them and intimidating them was not a problem. He also could retaliate without an ounce of guilt.

But while he could scold you —it is fun to see you being apologetic and trying to be forgiven, your pranks were rather mild too—he could never be mad too long, as your pranks were just, well kind. If the twins are not involved.

“I can understand. Look at me as much as you want, I’m here for this as well after all.” He stands up and pulls you up after closing and putting the strap of the cooler on his shoulder.

“Let’s go home.” And you follow him, carefully placing both of your hat to protect you from the sunrays.

“Wait a little bit and you will see; the roots will grow black at first and it will soon be as usual.”

“Really?!”

Three days later, his hair was green, courtesy of the twins giving you ideas.

2nd part: It is not natural.

Well, we could just say, it’s the power of something that made it like this bla bla bla (well, I mean it’s the author who chooses).

But nah, it’s no fun if we do not make theories! Because the world is… *whisper* conspiracy. Let’s forget the wig too for now.

Well, let’s start with something basic: it’s simply dyed.

Maybe the characters just thought it was cool to have them dyes like that and this could work for a lot of them, even in the less recent times as people started to dye their hair even 1500 BC. 300 BC prostitutes in the Roman Empire already dyed their hair blond too, using ashes of burned plants or nuts and in 2014 artificial-looking hair color became a trend! (https://www.byrdie.com/hair-color-history)

Exemple : Yashiro Nene, Toilet-bound Hanako-kun

Nene-chan obviously is a hopelessly romantic teenager, and I am sure that she wants to follow trends just like she wants a boyfriend for the sake of, well, having a relationship at the beginning of the story.

So, pretty sure that with Aoi’s influence (she has the real power… help) they decided to dye the tip of her hair green in middle school.

(psst, PS: Aoi also tried to dye one strand green but her hairs were too dark, we can only distinguish the color when focusing)

(re psst: Akane directly noticed it).

Okay, a little funnier now. It’s because of an experimental failure, so a new kind of chemicals.

Example: Ishigami Senku, Dr Stone

So, we know that he is a science nerd. And we know that he experiments a lot. Let’s just imagine mini-Senku, seeing his father and wondering why the hell does he resemble a radish?

Then, mini-Senku trying to synthesize a greenish hair dye (because he wants to look like a leek), but failing, not because it doesn’t take the color, but because it stays.

Do you know what’s even funnier? He failed it when he was young, like ridiculously young (he is in first grade here, so 6/7 years old and already a fan).

So just imagine 5/6 years old Senku, just having his hair up and green one day and he understands that they will always be like this.

It’s due to their power <3

Maybe kind of a side-effect of their power, we could think of Todoroki (Shoto) whose fire side have red hair and white in the ice side, so simply a cool consequence of cool powers.

Example: Akugatawa Ryuunosuke, Bungo Stray Dogs

Okay, so this is cannon, I’ve decided so. We all know he was poor, but like slums poor so he could just not afford to buy hair dye also there is no point in doing so.

BUT! During one of his fight, it happened. Rashomon ate the melanin at the tip of his hair. And since then, he decided it was cool and will keep it like this forever.

Scenarios! (･ω<)☆

“A-are you sure it’s like that?”

“Of course, it is, just trust me Nene-chan~”

They were clearly messing things up. The shower curtain laid there, ripped off its place, soppy and stained green at some places.

The sink, crowded with various face products, hair accessories, nail polish and a myriad of different-colored eyeshadows from just as much different pallets. Clothes lingered on the floor, creating little mountains of fabric and you were wise enough to avoid stepping on one in fear of being stabbed by a lost hairpin.

In the middle—rather the left corner—of this mess stood your two friends, the stool having been knocked off by a panicked Nene made you worry about her tripping on it. Facing her was a smiling Aoi hands stuck on too-big plastic gloves and a bottle of hair dye in her hands.

“I thought I told you both to wait for me,” you sighed. “Here Aoi-chan, gimme the bottle and the gloves. Nene-chan, catch this.”

You threw your package to her, which she missed, and the cloth unfolded revealing the cape you borrowed from your father’ barber shop. You hanged the curtain up again and went back to the now wearing the cape Nene— you just named teepee-Nene.

You slipped on the gloves and verified the mixture they prepared. Deeming it good and usable, you began to separate the strands of Nene’s hair, clipping some up and untangling some burdensome ones.

Then, as she already applied the protecting product, you began to spread the dye on her tips, visualizing the lovely ombré she wanted.

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed Aoi growing bored by each new stroke of brush.

“Do you want have a dyed strand too? Though it could not take well because of the color and the washing you just did,” you offered.

“Yes!” she eagerly accepted, immediately pointing at a random point on her head. “Plus, we can trust you at one hundred percent!”

“Of course,” you chuckled, “I am used to do this.”

“You did most of your colors by yourself, yeah?” Nene asked.

“Yup,” you confirmed. “But my parents were okay with it, were almost encouraging me to do so, bleh. Contrary to some middle-schoolers I know.”

You yelped, escaping from Aoi’s traitor finger that just poked your side. Nene grinned, “Well, as miss high-school first year helped us, you are an accomplice. Don’t think you can escape being punished with us, (Y/n).”

Shaking your head, you went back to her, lightly pinching her arm through the cape and focusing on your task with the girls’ chatting serving as your background noise.

_____________________

“We should dye your hair too, (Y/n)!” The girls’ eyes sparkled.

“No do so kids.” You discarded the dye bottle in your hand. “The dye doesn’t work anymore, should have requested this sooner.” Ignoring their complains, you walked out of the bathroom, walking to the kitchen for some snacks.

It was an ordinary day at the Ishigami household. Byakuya had checked his list, little shoes at the entrance, check. Clean living room and table, check. A walking Senku-sized mop, check. Groceries for dinner, check.

Byakuya turned around, checking again. Ah, he forgot the yogurts. Would it be weird to go back to the convenience store? They could skip yogurts for once, it wasn’t essential. What was important, however…

“Senku!! What happened to your head?!” He dashed to his son, grabbing his shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Wait you didn’t actually dive into a suspicious liquid right?” He paused. Then thought. He stared at him. “No, even if you want to test something you can’t just bath in it.”

Senku stared right back at him. And bonked his head.

“No I didn’t, I’m not stupid,” he reassured his father. “It’s hair dye,” he pointed out.

“Aah, I see…” He patted his hair before standing up. And tossed the child on his shoulder while ordering, “We are going to wash it away, immediately.”

_____________________

It wasn’t right. It didn’t go away.

“Why is it still stuck?!”

“I don’t know!! But stop, I’m going bald!! Help! He is trying to age a child! Human experiment!”

“I’m not, it doesn’t want t-oh, it’s disappearing.” Indeed, the water was now tinted a green color after streaming through Senku’s hair.

Byakuya sighed in relief. “Luckily it’s going away,” he started, “though it’s seems the tips already took the color in.”

Head down, Senku wrung out his hair and broke in a smile while confirming by himself Byakuya’s affirmation. “Yeah, I started by dyeing them first. Wanted to look like you.”

Byakuya froze. ‘He wanted to look like me?’ He glanced at his reflection. ‘I do have two hair colors.’ He grabbed a towel and spoke, “But you know, it’s not good to dye your hair this young. Come here, I’m gonna dry them.”

The child’s hairs were still thin, but the long strands would thicken later with no doubts. Byakuya was wary of his own strength too, as a child’s head remained fragile looking, Senku was still five after all. But this wouldn’t prevent him to mess with it a little bit.

Taking the hairdryer and a hair comb, he disentangled some knots here and there, added hair wax at each strand he lifted up until they were all up and with a radish-like form except from a tiny seaweed at the front.

“Tada! Here is my masterpiece. Keep it will you?” He ran away. “I’m going to the convenience store; I forgot the yogurts!” he shouted. “Tidy the bathroom up for now, thanks!"

_____________________

“What they didn’t know though,” the narrator started, “is that the chemicals would keep him looking like that, proudly wearing the same hairstyle 3,700 years later, a unique hairstyle, a relic from the modern era they knew.”

Akugatawa was in a dire situation. A kind of situation he had been in plenty of times but could be the last one he lived through just like all the other ones.

The enemy was strong, not physically exceptional, but having grown enough muscles to defeat three or four kids like Akugatawa attacking him together.

It wouldn’t be a problem, for he was blessed with Rashomon, if only the man he was fighting wasn’t an ability user as well.

The worst, being that he didn’t underestimate him nor was he stupid as he cleverly used all the aspects of his ability, taking each openings Akugatawa dropped by inadvertence, creating numerous opportunities from them and further damaging the child’s body each time.

Akugatawa was certain now, that his enemy couldn’t be taken lightly and though it was pointless to ponder on this now, as he didn’t know if he would survive this fight, he was concerned on why someone this strong would be going after him.

The answer to his questioning could be a threat to his relative safety, as well as his sister’s and the other children’s.

He dodged, the outline of the shadow almost piercing through his head, its razor-sharp edges flaunting death in front of his eyes.

After many failures, he finally began to uncover the trick to resist the unknown ability. The man had been sending his shadow after him for some gruesome minutes now and Akugatawa recognized some patterns, his body learned to dodge and bend to escape even one blow.

But his knowledge stopped there, he couldn’t pinpoint how to stop the enemy, how the ability worked.

All kind of ability had some king of mechanism, he learned. His depended on his clothing as the beast was formed from it. If put naked in front of an enemy, he would be dead meat; separated from any kind of fabric he was just as vulnerable as he was as a newborn.

Yet, even when having Rashomon by his side he was struggling against the stronger, the more experienced ability user.

While the origin of the enemy’s weapon was his obviously shadow, he had no ideas how to make it disappear nor did he know how to stop the connection between the user and his shadow.

He blocked an attack—at least Rashomon could touch it—and the beast’s fangs tore through the black foggy blade making a bee line to the enemy’s neck.

From under him, the man defended himself. This action cost him his life as Akugatawa found his long-awaited solution.

Another attack, not from the ground—he learned that when closer to him, the enemy could raise his shadow as he wanted—but from above him.

He lifted his head; the tip dangerously close to him.

It allowed Rashomon to successfully break the crystal hidden underneath the layers of shadow, the blade shattering apart the moment the crystal was damaged.

Now that he found out the way to get rid of him, Akugatawa could unleash his beast and let it freely destroy the destabilized enemy in front of him.

_____________________

The enemy was gone and Akugatawa staggered to his home, the distance being longer than what he recalled. Having reached the entrance, he collapsed on the ground after seeing his sister quietly waiting for his return.

He woke up some hours later, the night had installed itself in the sky.

Something was strange however, as his sister was staring at him, eyes sparkling. He wondered why until she pointed at a strand of her hair that was framing her face and taking it, pushing him to mirror her actions with his own.

Indeed, where the black melanin was supposed to be, was now hairs devoid of color and white like an old man’s. His gaze trailed up to find out only the tip lost its color, the pattern where the colors met looking like sharp teeth.

“Big brother,” Gin started, “could you do the same for me? I want white tips too! And you must do the same at the other side, it would be prettier if it symmetrical.”

Did his sister just ask him to chomp her with Rashomon?

Bonus: Zenin Naoya <3<3<3, new technique

Hang him head down.

First, you lure him into the garden, being a submissive, obedient and sweet wife, you want your dear husband who is finally at home to relax and you have prepared a surprise for him <3

So, you lead him to the garden, where you prepared a magnificent, grandiose gallows!

Not understanding the reason why it’s here but being arrogant enough for at least a hundred men; he asks his silly wife why something so grotesque was in the garden she adored to take care of

You smile sweetly and lean in to kiss him (him allowing you to do so of course, you couldn’t do this if he was not spoiling you but he was really good with you), wrapping your arms around his neck

Then, you let go of his neck, watching him slowly fall back.

“Oh, dear!” You chuckle after hearing the loud bang his head produced after kissing the ground

You grab the collar of his cloth with one hand, the other one patting the back of his head, fingers finally grazing the little bump, consequence of his fall.

You slam it. (´꒳`)♡

Then you drag him behind you, playing a little bit among the moist grass and zigzagging to admire the pretty flowers you took care of during all the times you had an affair with boredom behind your husband’s back.

1st step. You tightly tie the rope around Naoya’s feet, slipping his sandals in his trouser for him to be able to find them later, how thoughtful you are

2nd step. You get the basin you already prepared and then, you pour the hair dye inside of it

3rd step. You use your delicate arms to lift him up, pulling on the rope with the mechanism you prepared, only do this now or he could die from having too much blood going to his head. Again, you are a model for all wives with your thoughtfulness.

4th step. Let the tip of his hair soak in the hair dye and you can even use it to decorate your husband’s clothes ( ´ ▽ ` )

5th step. Let him dry here, he will take the dye in and have beautiful hair tips. When he wakes up, he won’t be calling the servants because of his pride but then take a little time to come off the gallows. And then, he will be so thankful towards his wife he might want to kill you without ever divorcing! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

But you leave the garden before he wakes up, you want to surprise him.

You take your luggage, join the man/woman (dear boredom) you are actually having an affair with and get out of the house. You want him to fully experience his marriage after all, you will offer him the experience of being cucked.( ◡‿◡ *)

#theories it's conspiracy lol #scenarios #anime #yashiro nene #akugatawa ryuunosuke #ishigami senku #ishigami byakuya #kocho shinobu #tokito muichiro #yushiro #zenin naoya #kita shinsuke #me write (´・ω・｀)

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coxinhadoce47-ocs · 4 years ago

Text

4. Comforting hug

The sun was setting on the city, a beautiful painting of pinks, oranges and purples. Todd sat on the edge of a small cliff, on a park outside the city, with full view of the city below. Small lights were slowly appearing, as the sky patiently turned darker.

The others were on the tents, probably making something to eat. The trip had been going for almost two months, these two last weeks being accompanied by Kaia and Heloise, not by his choice. He didn't trust them. Initially.

But some things Kaia told Alec were starting to sound awfully familiar, as if he heard of them before, even maybe experienced them. And the more he looked at Kaia, something seemed like he had seen her before.

His train of thought got snapped by her, sitting next to him, quiet at first.

— They think we should order some takeout.

— How much is it going to cost? If it even will come to here.

— I don't know, they said they'll see all these details. There's probably something near here. Maybe.

An awkward silence fell down between them again. Todd was still thinking about how strange she seemed to be so familiar to him.

— ...So...did you move here or have you lived here your whole life?

— Moved out to here after some family problems. And here I stayed, well, after Helô, Alec and you made me go with you two-

— I didn't have anything to do with this!

— But you didn't say that we couldn't go with you.

Todd opened his mouth, and then closed it. And opened it again.

— I'm trying to make this clear, I'm doing this for him. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have accepted.

She looked at him, listening carefully, not emoting much, before turning her eyes to the city, the sun being barely visible on the horizon and the stars slowly appearing more and more.

— And you?

— I what?

— Have you lived here your whole life?

— ...I guess so? My...my family moved here when I was only two years old, so I basically lived here my whole life.

— Did you study on Rockfield?

— Rockfield High School? Yeah, I did. Well, until I was 17. — He sighed, not sure about continuing to talk.

— Did something happen?

He paused, hesitant. Looking around, without focusing on anything, searching for an answer but being met with a navy skie and uncaring stars.

— Well, it did. Not magic related. I just...got kicked out of my parents' house one night. It was bad but...I think I am way better off now than I would be if I continued there. After i got kicked out, i tried to rebuild my life. I found, y'know, Thali. I thought it would help me but...it just was destroying me from the inside. I got ridden of him three years ago and started to actually rebuild my life. Or so i thought. I wouldn't be here having to clean up this mess if i did have made him go away for good the first time.

— So it's kinda your parents' fault that we're on this mess, right?

— Yeah, you can put it like that.

He unrolled the sleeves from his hoodie, starting to get cold, hugging himself from the slightly chilly wind.

—...One of my best friends disappeared when I was 17. I don't think I ever recovered from that. Looking at it now, I feel like...I was in love with her even.

Todd was silent, staring at her, the pieces starting to fall together in his mind.

—...How was she?

— She had dark brown curly hair she was always bleaching and dyeing it, she was a goof, I loved being around her, the sleepovers, the days we snuck into the library...She was the best friend I ever had.

— Did she live on the end of Baumgartner street? On the yellow house? With the bird feeders?

— ...Yes. — She said slowly, looking at him now.

— .... — Todd took a deep breath. — Well...I guess we both changed a lot then.

— ...I guess so. — She smiled weakly, understanding what he meant, but slowly fading away.— ...So they kicked you then? Do they know that you're, yknow?

— Trans? Yeah, that's why they kicked me out. — He answered, still bitter about the fact.

They got quiet again, Kaia fiddling with her glove, while Todd looked at his feet, pondering about the situation.

— ...I missed you a lot. — That's all she said, awkward about her accidental declaration moments ago.

— I missed you too. — He smiled softly, unsure. — I didn't know you liked me in that way.

— I-uh-I don't feel...like that about you anymore. You just...disappeared and I moved on.

— That's good. You shouldn't stay trapped into a hope of something that wouldn't happen. I never felt something like that for you.

— It's okay... I'm not mad about it.

— ...Sorry for...never trying to contact you after that. I was...I was scared. I didn't know what to do. — He looked at his blackened hand, closing it. This guilt had been consuming him for years, never going away from the back of his mind.

— I...I'm not mad. Not now. It hurt like hell. Still hurts. But I'm not holding any grudge about this. And...well, knowing about all this, I can't blame you much for that.

— ...Thank you. — He was hit with a wave of relief, untensioning his shoulders.

— ...Can I? — She asked, carefully, extending her arm, asking permission to hug him.

He nodded, quiet, hugging her tight, resting his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes tight. She held him gently, almost afraid of hurting him, resting her own head on his.

— ...I'm glad i found you again. — He muttered.

— I'm glad too... — She answered when they separated from the hug. — Just try to not dissapear again without warning, or I'll throw you off this cliff — she said, joking, making Todd snort, smiling.

— Okay, okay, if you insist. I'll try not to.

— Specially if you leave Alec behind.

— I wouldn't do that.

— I'm being serious now. It's not like I can't see what's going on with your hand. Just...think about what you're going to do about this and Alec.

— I'll be fine — He quickly answered, holding his blackened wrist, which twitched slightly, making him flinch with the pain.

— ...I'm being serious. I don't want someone else that cares about you losing you.

— I WILL be fine. — He repeated, in a harsh tone.

—...

— I'll find a way to solve this.

— ...If you say so.

#>:3 #ye they knew eachother before they met on the story and before they transitioned #friends to strangers is fun #whoah this is looooooooong #alec talks #alec writes #writing #oc #ws #witchery shenanigans #todd #kaia #kaia nasser #transphobia cw #just a mention

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mayve-hems · 5 years ago

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Old Me | Ashton Irwin x OC

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: It all started with a lie. One that tore the two Ashtons apart from each other the day before graduation. Five years later, Ashton and Kalypso are showing up to Calum Hood’s wedding, prepared only a little for what is about to come. Ashton is determined to prove to his ex girlfriend that he never has, and never will, stop loving her.

Word Count: 14.7k

Note: I love my friend Anna because she helped me so much with this and she will forever have my heart.

Warnings: selling/use of weed, drinking, lots and lots of cussing

Normal

Flashback

Kalypso ducks her head underneath a bathtub of water. Her chocolate brown hair billows around her like she’s a sea creature or a mermaid goddess watching over Mount Olympus. If she were a few years younger, she would’ve stained the rim of the bathtub with a hair dye concoction straight from a box.

Resurfacing, she scrubs paint from her fingers, arms, legs, and face. Stuffed deep under her nail beds, she reaches for Paris Pink paint. She hisses, separating her skin and nail, but admires how nice they look. Plain, long-stained black, and mostly healthy. Making a mental note to look up nail salons for a much needed acrylic manicure, she hears a pawing at the bathroom door.

Even though she’s single and lives alone, she knows there’s no privacy in her small apartment. Magik, a black cat she found in a dumpster, is clingier than Kalypso’s little sister, Stella. She has three seconds to stand and pull a towel around her body before she sees her hallway through a newly opened door and a quiet mew enters the bathroom. Magik is too smart for her own good.

“I’m glad it’s only you,” Kalypso sighs and steps onto a blue bath mat right out of the clawfoot tub. The linoleum is cold underneath her toes from her air conditioning, so right out of the bathtub, she never stands directly on the bathroom floor without something there. Kalypso forgets her slippers once again so she maneuvers a leap from the bathmat, through the semi-opened door, and onto her pretty white carpet. “Thought I’d have to deal with Stella,” She smiles once she’s on the carpet.

“Heard that!” Stella, Kalypso’s younger sister, says over her shoulder in the kitchen. Her hands busy themselves with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway, with the kitchen having a sharp pivot to the left when you enter the living room, meaning that if she talks loud enough, Stella can hear everything Kalypso may say about her. “I was giving you time not to smell.”

“I hate you,” Kalypso sighs and turns left into her bedroom. A dream bedroom-- one with 70s rock and 80s pop -scratched- record glued to her ceiling, and blankets covering her bed. Hung LED lights and paint pretending to melt from the walls where the ceiling attaches and the aroma of vanilla incense. “Do you ever go home?”

She’s filled milk crates with vinyls that are used, right next to her bed, underneath the table holding the record player. To the left of her bed is an enormous window showing her a view of the city laid out in color and sunlight. Along her floor, she’s left clothes and other things out instead of cleaning them up.

Pulling her closet door open, two empty canvases tumble from beside her dresser. She picks them up, shoves them back into their designated place, and drops her towel to the floor. Kalypso isn’t worried about the windows on the top floor or her sister inside of her apartment.

Her fingers brush the sleeves of colorful shirts, over her dresser, and pays no attention to the art supplies she’s included inside. Above her hanging clothes are packing supplies and canvases she still needs to send out.

Kalypso owns her own ‘company’ called AKM_arts. AKM, after her initials, and arts because that’s always been her passion. Drawing, coloring, painting, crafting something into the way she’s feeling and letting the world see her so raw. She began as an instagram artist, Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, but quickly started selling custom pieces.

“You’re so pale,” Stella says, watching Kalypso pull a pair of jean shorts up her legs. Her plan for the day was to purchase more circle canvases when the shops finally opened. She needed to start more tie-dye nameplates. A man requested one for his daughter, Auzilynn, which Kalypso couldn’t seem to pronounce. “How are you Australian?”

Kalypso loves showing off her tattoos to the world; her mother's initials tattooed on the inside of her right shisn, a koi fish down her thigh, a single bee painfully placed behind her knee, a feather falling from hip to thigh, and several things in between. Her body is a canvas for anybody that deems themselves good enough.

“You’re two years younger than me, why do we look like twins?” Kalypso pulls a black shirt over her head that leaves the word ANGEL tattooed on her clavicle. “Is this cute?”

“You always looks tupid,” Stella replies, rolling her eyes. “But you’re still pale.”

“We’ve established this,”

“I got your mail for you,” Stella takes a bite from her sandwich, tearing the crust from the rest of the bread. Kalypso and Stella look a lot alike, besides their hair color. Kalypso always opted for a darker, more vibrant color like her natural dark brown. Stella, blonde, preferred pastels when they were in school.

Kalypso snatches the letter from her younger sister’s hand. Addressed for Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, apartment 607B. Stamped with a dog photo, and sealed with red wax. “It’s from Calum Hood.”

“Yeah, I got the same one,” Stella smiles at her sister. Kalypso and Calum’s friend group were close at one point, so Stella hung around as much as she could. The nuisance in the same grade as Calum and Luke that joined everything they did with Kalypso. “He’s getting married.”

“Married?”

“Yeah, his fiance is beautiful,”

Kalypso rips open the packaging. The location, the date and time, and a picture of Calum and his future-wife standing together in front of a brick wall. Stella’s right, Calum’s fiance is beautiful; curly brown hair, a hand placed over Calum’s chest, and a perfect smile. “Cool,” Kalypso tosses the invitation and the envelope in the trash. “Hope he has a good wedding.”

“You’re not going?”

“I love Calum and all, but I don’t want to see Ashton,”

“It’s been five years, Kal, get over it,” Stella brushes her blonde locks from her long face. “Please? I want to talk to Luke.”

“It’s been five years, Stel, get over it,” Kalypso bends down to look into her paint drawers unit for a certain color. Auzilynn’s name plate requires a rainbow painted into a tie-dye pattern. Kalypso isn’t sure if she has the correct shade of blue. “What would I do with my cat?” Opening the drawer dedicated the blue paints, she has more than enough.

“Alexander could watch Magik,” Stella replies, thinking about the guy just down the hall she’s trying to date. They’re in the flirting stage so far, and she hopes they’ll progress further eventually. “And I’m not trying to hook up with Hemmings. I’m trying to get my laptop back from him. It’s been way too long.”

She’s a year younger than her sister. She graduated with Luke Hemmings and Calum Hood. At the end of the day, she was a part of their friend group, including her sister Kalypso, Kalypso’s childhood best friend Michael Clifford, and Kalypso’s boyfriend, Ashton Irwin. WhenKalypso graduated from school, she was ready to take off and leave Sydney, never look back at the place that reminded her of her entire high school career. Stella was permitted to graduate halfway through her last year of school and they moved into the same apartment.

“He probably doesn’t have it anymore. It’s been five years,”

“Ashton probably doesn’t have feelings for you anymore, Ashton Kalypso. It’s been five years,”

Since they’re sisters, it didn’t take long for Stella to finally reach her limit and move into the apartment next door. They enter each other's homes whenever they want.

Kalypso rolls her eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

“Are you going to go?”

“Hell no,” Kalypso lets out a loud chuckle. “You’re hilarious,”

Returning from the store, Magik greets Kalypso at the door. Dropping four reusable bags on the floor, she greets her loud cat with pets and kisses. Canvases, paint, stickers, glitter, paintbrushes, all equaling way too much money from Kalypso’s wallet covers the entrance of her apartment. After greeting the cat, she gets started on cleaning her room and putting things away.

She throws the bags on her bed to straighten out the messy place. Clothes are folded or thrown into a laundry basket, blankets are folded or placed on her bed, canvases that turned out bad are put in a repaint pile where she turns them black and makes galaxies, and the craft massacre in her closet becomes properly organized. She puts canvases into an organizer with different sizes for different canvases and anything involving paint bottles or paint brushes directly is thrown into the messy paint drawers. She’s got way too many bottles of the same shade of blue that she needs for the rainbow tie-dye, but adds another into the drawer.

Quickly, though, she has to get to painting. Swirls of orange and red chase each other around an oval canvas. Swirling inward then out, mirroring each other. She goes in order of the rainbow, leaving one strip of purple on the narrow inside of the swirl. Tie-dye on a canvas. After it dries, she free hands the same. The person that ordered it chose basic cursive writing, which is easy with the help of muscle memory. Auzilynn, weird, but interesting.

She prints a label for the canvas and gets the packaging supplies ready so she can slip it inside and put it into the pile of canvases that need to be shipped off. She has eighteen wrapped canvases to go out of Australia, but only a few are staying inside. One, Auzilynn’s, isn’t going farther than the apartment complex a few blocks away. If Kalypso makes it in time, she can get Auzilynn’s out by 11 AM and have it delivered within a day.

Kalypso has over 100 orders to do, and only a few days until they need to be shipped off. She can’t take a few days off for a stupid wedding, it’d be worthless.

Although, she could use the break.

No! That’s stupider than anything else she’s thought of. At the same time, she could show off her glow-up and amazing life. Painting all day and night, scheduling her working hours, deciding what she gets to do. She has things to get done. Her paintbrushes need to be cleaned, canvases need to be organized and shipped, and her apartment is a disaster.

Taking a break from painting, Kalypso pours wet cat food into Magik’s bowl next to the refrigerator . The cat digs into her md-morning breakfast as if she’d never eaten before.

Across from the refrigerator, Kalypso pours a sink of hot water from the tap. Her paintbrushes are already in the sink, waiting to be cleaned. Browns, pinks, and blues explode from between the bristles. Galaxies dropped onto the stainless steel bottom like a picture.

She was thinking long and hard about going or staying. The one thing blowing her mind was Ashton Irwin and how he would have progressed. Was he still tall and handsome? Curly hair and eyes the color dewy grass? Married? Single? Still toying with the bad boy scene? She’d changed after moving away- rebellious tones and sassy remarks blossomed into doing whatever the hell she wanted to, but without so much hatred toward everyone. Weekly-dyed hair turned into natural brown on pale skin. Nobody could stay the same, so would Ashton still love her?

They broke up the day before graduating, Kalypso initiating the conversation, Ashton entirely speechless when she said the words. Kalypso had heard that he slept with a girl named Sage Miller, who was in their grade, the night before while at a party, from Luke. A cut-and-dry breakup where Kalypso blocked her ex boyfriend from her life. At graduation, Kalypso smiled, but every time she looked away from the cameras shoved in her face, broken pieces cut themselves along her throat.

She didn’t want to hear Ashton’s excuse when she broke up with him, she didn’t want to hear what he might have tried to come up with or how it wasn’t his fault. Kalypso, a girl that still knows her worth, realized that sometimes you don't need a guy to be happy.

Kalypso dials her sister for a video call. Continuous rinsing and scrubbing from her paintbrushes, laying them on the counter that wrapped from the sink to the fridge. She heard the dial tone end and her little sister picked up the call. Stella could only see a white ceiling.

“What do you want, Kal?”

“How long do you think Alex will watch Magik for?”

Ashton Irwin could still be single.

For Ashton Irwin, he's known about Calum's wedding since he proposed to the woman, but still put off packing until the day before he left. One suitcase full of men's clothes for a week's stay, and one smaller bag of his four-year-old daughter's clothes.

"She's not going to go," Luke remarks, looking at his fingernails. Painted orange with a highlighter by Ashton's daughter. He has a soft spot for his favorite four-year-old, but she likes destroying Luke's nails. "She hasn't even RSVPed yet and weddings in a week."

"You don't know that," Ashton replies. "She could just be Stella's plus-one."

"She's Kalypso, she's not the type to dwell on the past and wait around for peoples weddings,"

"You're kidding me," Ashton throws a dress at Luke. "She dragged me to thirty weddings in four years." Their flight leaves in only a few hours, and Ashton's slowly falling more and more behind on what he needs to get done. He needs to dress himself and his daughter, get a carry on bag ready for her, and manage to get to the airport. Luke's attention was diverted to grabby hands and a soft mewing, his name toward him. "She could've changed and now she's more sentimental or some shit. I did."

"Yeah, and how exactly are you going to explain Auzzie?" Luke lifts her from the floor, sitting her on his lap. They both stare at Ashton from the toddler bed. "Sorry that Sage Miller told you that I cheated on you because she kissed me at a party and you broke up with me. It didn't actually happen and I was so heartbroken I made myself believe her and hey, this kid came out of it. She died two years ago but it's okay because she was a drug addict and had nothing to do with Auzilynn. You want to get married?"

"Yeah, actually," Ashton moves across his room to get into Auzzie's dresser, searching for more than the few clothes he can find. Her toys are thrown everywhere and her clothes are torn from their drawers. He didn't have time to clean it up. "Is that so bad?" He starts pulling shirts and pants sets from the piles of clean clothes and a dress that she wore almost every day.

"What do you think, Auzzie?" Luke asks, shifting to pull her higher up. She looks just like Ashton, with a small mixture of her mother. Curly blonde hair in space buns, eyes that sparkle like glass, a crooked smile that could get her out of trouble. "Is daddy being ridiculous?"

Auzilynn nods her head. Her fingers toy with the part of her white tank top that's rolling up. "I want Doritos."

"You want Doritos?" Ashton asks. He decides he has enough outfits on his arm and in the somewhat packed back that he should start folding everything together. As long as it fits, he'll be happy.

"And fruit snacks!"

"Auzilynn Marie, you're not going to ruin your dinner," Ashton demands. "We're going to be at grandma's house in a few hours, can you wait until then?"

Auzilynn shakes her head then cups her fingers around Luke's ear. "Are we still growing fruit snacks?" She says in a hot-breathed whisper.

"Are we still growing fruit snacks?" Luke asks Ashton, wondering what he should answer. "Are they still growing?"

"Yes," Ashton groans. He ran out of fruit snacks three days beforehand and every place seemed to be out of the special type that Auzilynn liked. He told her they had to grow, and he was so happy children were susceptible. "They're still growing."

"Have you ever been to Sydney Auzzie?" Luke asks. His fingers search under her arms and around her neck for ticklish spots that cause her to giggle the most. Her body tenses up playfully. "Are you going to play with Uncle Mike tonight?"

"Yeah!" Auzilynn replies. Michael's still back in Sydney but visited often. He's probably Auzilynn's favorite.

"Back to Kal," Luke says. "How do you think it's such a good idea to talk to her."

"Because I know for sure that Stella's going." All he's wanted for the past five years is to tell Kalypso what happened that night, not some messed up version Sage had created. He plans to use Calum's wedding as a way to talk to Kalypso. A two-for-one deal; see Calum again and get back on good terms with his high school girlfriend. "If I can talk to Stella, she'll at least let Kalypso know that we conversed."

"How do you know? She could just lie and say you didn't show up,"

"They're sisters. They tell each other everything,"

Ashton has only been told stories about what happened to Kalypso after they graduated. She stopped hanging out with Calum, Luke, and occasionally messaged Michael. Stella became her best friend and her sister in one, and they moved several hours away.

Ashton had once been her drug and suffocated her when they broke up. The butterflies he had created turned into caterpillars that filled her lungs with goo and half-eaten flowers. Rumors told Ashton that she nursed herself with whiskey and sleepless nights from graduation on. He would see her driving around with Stella in the middle of the night, hoodie and messy bun-- when she looked the best.

"Stella probably won't listen to you either,"

Ashton and Sage pulled up to a stoplight in the middle of the night, returning from a party, almost a year after Ashton and Kalypso broke up. Kalypso pulled up right next to them, right before the light turned green, and rolled down her window. She screamed, "fuck you!" at the top of her lungs with a stern middle finger pointing straight at Ashton. She sped off when the light turned green. Something that irked Ashtons somewhat-of-a-girlfriend at the time, but to Ashton, that was a Kalypso thing to do.

"Can't you be positive?" Ashton folds another one of Auzilynn's dresses and sets it lightly in the suitcase. He's prepared for anything to happen, including several changes of clothes. "Can you fold the rest of those while I-" A ding runs through the room. Ashton's phone at full volume vibrates Luke's leg. He grabs it quickly to check who it is. Pleasantly surprised, he swipes the notification away. "That was fast."

"What was fast?"

"For Auzzie's birthday, I ordered this painting thing with her name on it," He clicks on the pattern he chose and flips his phone for Luke to see. "They shipped it already and I ordered it last night."

"Watch it be shitty," Luke laughs.

"I paid $50 for that thing," Ashton shakes his head. He prays that he didn't just waste his money entirely and that hopefully, the creator spelled his daughters' name right. "It better be good."

“I guess I can’t say the joke anymore,” Kalypso sasses, looking the large white house up and down. A porch that wraps all the way to the back door, into an over spacious backyard. She tilts her head to one side to comb all of her hair over her right shoulder. “Can’t really fuck your wife, Cal,” Calum glances up from his cement table and leans back in an outdoors chair. He looks like an older version of himself, rather than a completely different person. “Sorry, Mike told me to come up to the front.”

“Kalypso?” Calum asks. Brown hair thicker than life itself, large eyes that sparkle underneath any light, and a hoop through her right nostril. Somehow, she isn’t as intimidating as her high school self had been, but at the same time, she is worse.

Kalypso crosses her arms. In Calum’s high school eyes, there’s no way that the woman standing on his porch is his friend Kalypso. As an adult, he questions how she could’ve changed too much but remained the same. “Are we calling me Ashton again?”

“Huh?” Calum wonders. He is just amazed that she was coming after not returning her invite. She must be Stella’s plus one.

“You said Kalypso as if you are trying to get me to start going by Ashtonn again,”

“No!” Calum stammers. Kalypso used to be an avid member of not wanting to go to formal events. She skipped her own prom to go on a boat with Ashton, still in a prom dress. She barely showed up for her own graduation, and she’s voluntarily going to Calum’s wedding? She must really care about him. “I’m just surprised you showed up. Two days early.”

No hair dye, no lip piercing, no eyebrow slits, and she isn’t wearing a full face of makeup anymore. Gauged ears, a white shirt tied in a knot above the band of a black skater skirt, and tons of freckles.

“Was I really that bad of a friend?” Kalypso wearily asks. “If I was, then I’m sorry.”

“No,” Calum shakes his head and finally decides to stand up. He’s several inches taller than Kalypso still. “We’re going to Melbourne to see my sister next month and I was going to have a little celebration there. I didn’t expect you to come to the wedding.”

“Should I go home then?”

“No!” Calum sighs. “I’m just thinking of you from high school. You didn’t go to shit so I just thought you wouldn’t sit through a wedding.”

“I’ve changed,”

“Yes! I see that,” Calum smiles and gestures to her clothes. She wasn’t the biggest fan of skirts when they were teenagers. She’s gone through a tedious development of her character. “You look nice.”

“It’s Stella. If I had my way, I’d be wearing thigh highs,”

“There’s my Kaly!” Calum holds his arms out for an overly-zealous hug. Kalypso has never been near his height, nor all of his friends, so bear hugs are always expected. His heart beats in his chest like a rhythmic song. “What’s new? I haven’t heard from you in forever,”

"I gave birth to seven children and I'm married to John Mulaney," She looks around the porch, wanting to see what Calum's like now. There's a garden off to the side of the house, vegetables on the right side, fruit on the left.

Calum pulls a chair out for Kalypso to sit down in. He moves the documents on his table to the side so he can focus on her. "Really, huh?" They both chuckle and smile brightly. "Our group finished the kids bet."

"The kids bet?"

"Remember when we had a bet on who would have children first? We all tried to bet on you and Ashton,"

"Did I win? Who was my bid?"

"Michael's won," Calum answers. Michael guessed Ashton in general, Calum guessed Kalypso, Luke guessed Michael, and Ashton guessed Luke. "You bet me."

"Then who has the kid? Luke or Ashton?"

"Not important!" Luke says, clapping a hand on Kalypso's shoulder. She turns in the seat, excitedly. She almost tackles him to the cement out of excitement. How did she think that she couldn't go to the wedding? "Children are sticky and that's gross." She's gone five years without hanging out with her group every day of the week. Kalypso feels like a teenager again.

"Liar," Calum says. "You love Auzzie."

Kalypso laughs harder. Who names their kid Auzzie? "You and Michael babysat my brothers for years, and you enjoyed it."

"Kal, I don't need your opinion," Luke shakes his head. Michael and Luke were suckers for the Montgomery boys. A pair of twins seven years younger than Kalypso. "So, seven kids, huh?"

"Yeah," Kalypso starts to count off her fingers "Pride, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, Greed, and Wrath,"

"Some people I could get along with," Luke smiles. He too is surprised by Kalypso's personality shirt. She was a classic skater girl with weed bags and a scale in her car. How did she turn into a perfect art freak? "But for real, husband? Wife? Any babies from them?"

"I've got a house, a cat, and my little sister,"

"Really?" Luke gasps.

"Just not that social anymore," She was once a sociable person, which is concerning to the boys. Ashton has had that big of an impact on her. "So, um, Michael or you got wives, Lu?"

"We're Auzzie's favorite single uncles," Luke smiles. "I mean if you're trying to give me your phone number I wouldn't-"

"-I'll give you my phone number in a friendly way. I'm not getting into your pants, Hems," Kalypso smiles and grabs his phone out of his hand. She unlocks it with the same password he's used since he was twelve. "So do I get to meet Auzzie? I feel left out."

"She's inside with Mike and Ash. If you want to concur that battles," Calum answers. He points to the screen door next to the table. Just inside, Kalypso can see two figures standing tall, shadowed onto a nice hardwood floor.

Kalypso is the leader of the broken-up group, even after five years of going solo. So badass, so intimidating that people didn't want to mess with her. With the five-year glow-up on her shoulders, she's a soft intimidating person. She still falls for hugs and attention, wrapping her arms around Luke's middle. He's grown at least three inches in five years.

"How's your mom? I was going to see if I could visit before I go back to Melbourne," Luke asks, letting go. Kalypso's torn from smiling and feeling depressed. She lives in Melbourne too, the irony of it all.

"She died," Kalypso folds both of her ears over to show the boys white ribbons. Pretty tattoos, but hidden. "Lung cancer got her a couple of years ago." Kalypso and Luke finally sit down in chairs.

"Oh," Luke's face falls. He wasn't that close to Kalypso's family like Ashton or Michael were, but he was still welcomed at any point in time. How did he not know that Mackenzie Montgomery died? "I'm sorry . . . I had no idea."

"It was just family at the funeral. Jasper almost didn't go," Kalypso was close to her mom her entire life. Kalypso, Stella, Jasper, and James' father left and never came back after the twins were born. Growing up from a seven-year-old, Kalypso made her mom into one of her best friends. They did almost everything together.

"Your brother Jasper?"

"That's the one,"

When Ashton and Kalypso broke up, Mackenzie and Michael were Kalypso's main support. A lot of times Stella or Luke were involved, and occasionally a couple of jokes from Calum, but Mackenzie never let her daughter feel alone. A beautiful woman, taken too soon.

"Why?"

"Too hard for him to face,"

Mackenzie called Kalypso and Stella every night after they moved to Melbourne. They'd talk about everything underneath the sun, except for the disease that was ruining Mackenzie's body. She never told anybody about that.

Kalypso clears her throat. "So did you guys ever make a band?"

Luke's face lights up. "We didn't start a band, but I have an apprenticeship at a recording studio."

"Really!?" Kalypso smiles. Luke's second choice in life was to become a music producer, even if he couldn't make it into a band. "I'm so happy for you." She claps her hand into Luke's for an achievement. "What about Michael. Any big breaks?"

"He streams video games,"

"Hey, at least he gets to do something he likes,"

"Are you talking trash on me!?" Michael screams, finally walking out of the house. "Holy shit it's Kalypso." Kalypso pivots in her chair to stare down the blond man. He looks just like he did in high school. "Ashton and I had a bet that you wouldn't come because he's here."

Kalypso's head drops. "Of course. Was I really just that bad of a friend?" Inside, she feels terrible, like she messed up as a person that not even her friends expected her to show up to Calum's wedding. She didn't think she was that bad at socializing."

"No, it's just . . . he's here so we thought you wouldn't want to come."

"I'm an adult, Michael, I can get over things."

"I'm not trying to be rude, 'Lypso, I just- you still go by Kalypso, right?" Michael asks. He hasn't heard either Calum nor Luke say Kalypso, because he wasn't listening. Ashton or Kalypso, he knows her by both names. Kalypso nods her head. "Good. I don't know if I can go back to calling you Ashton."

"Somebody say my name?" A thick Australian accent asks, following behind Michael. Kalypso wants to curl up into a ball, scared of Ashton. Ashton, the boy she was and still is in love with. Ashton, the man that cheated on her two days before they graduated. In his arms, a little girl with flowy brown hair smiles. Kalypso's heart fractures. "Oh,"

Luke reaches his arms out to grab Auzilynn from Ashton. Auzilynn practically jumps from Ashton's arms, but he's too distracted staring at Kalypso. She can't bring herself to look at him. Calum and Luke share uncomfortable looks. The tension can't be cut with a knife.

"Auzzie, can you say 'hi' to Kalypso?" Luke asks, setting her on his lap. Auzilynn is a mini-me to Ashton beside her darker, grown out hair, and softer versions of his features. Kalypso has no idea who her mom may be.

Auzilynn looks toward Kalypso. A wide, toothy smile forces a small smile from Kalypso. She has to admit that the two-year-old is pretty cute. "Hi, K'lyso!"

"Kalypso, babe," Ashton corrects. "Kuh-lip-so."

"K'lyso!"

"It's fine, Ashton," Kalypso says. "Hi, uh, Auzzie." She hesitates. She looks to Calum for an answer about Auzilynn's name. "Is it short for something, or-"

"Auzilynn," Luke informs her. "Auzilynn Marie Rose Irwin."

Kalypso looks back at Ashton, questioning the child's name. Normal middle names with an off-the-wall first name. Ashton smiles a closed-mouth smile, dimples showing and obvious frustration in his face.

"Sage named her," says Ashton. Kalypso feels herself falling apart even more. Suddenly, she can see Sage in Auzilynn. The way her eyes shaped like almonds, her bottom lip tucks underneath her teeth the smallest bit when she smiles, her nose looks as if she were a Who in How The Grinch Stole Christmas. With Ashton mixed inside of her, she manages to be adorable still. "I wanted to name her Marie Adair, but Sage said we were going to move to America when Auzzie was a year old and it would tell everyone she's Australian."

"Are you guys visiting from America?" Kalypso asks. She just wants to know if Sage is in the picture, if Ashton's moved on so much. He has a kid, meaning that he's opened up his heart enough for another woman to enter his life. Knowing her luck, Kalypso wonders if there would even be a place for her anymore.

"We've never even left the country,"

"Then where's Sage?"

"Hopefully the cemetery," Ashton replies. "She died when Auzzie was only a few months old. Drug overdose. Never even met Auzzie after signing the birth certificate."

"Oh, I'm so sorry,"

Feeling guilty, Kalypso finds it sort of funny that Sage was the one Ashton cheated with but Kalypso was more successful than her. Karma is a bitch.

"Are you talking shit on me?" Fourteen-year-old Ashton Kalypso Mongtomery asks Ashton Irwin. She slides down the end of the leather couch in the school atrium to sit closer to him. He smells like cedarwood and bonfire smoke. "Afraid of a little competition?"

"What are you talking about?" Ashton Irwin asks. The Ashtons have heard of each other, but never talked directly. All they know is that they're both friends with Michael Clifford, but not the same friend group. Ashton Montgomery spends more time with her sister in the year below than with Luke Hemmings or Calum Hood. "I don't even know you."

"Bull!" Ashton Montgomery snarls. Ashton Irwin watches the ball in her lip move to the side when she gets sassy. He swears she didn't have that yesterday during English. "Stop talking shit, or we're going to have beef."

"We can't have beef if I don't know you!"

Ashton Montgomery's tongue rolls over the fresh piercing in her lip. "Watch your mouth." She disappears into a messy hallway, blue hair dye lost in a sea of students, as quickly as she'd shown up.

Ashton Irwin was held back a year, while Luke and Calum skipped one. All of them -Michael, Luke, Calum, and both Ashtons- were in the same grade. Ashton Montgomery stays strictly with her sister Stella or Michael, with the occasional visit with Luke, while Ashton Irwin is known as the new kid Luke, Calum, and Michael adopted.

"So was she hot?" Calum excitedly asks. He's not very well acquainted with Ashton Montgomery. Michael forbade him to try and date her when he first expressed feelings, and the rule still stands.

Stella and Luke are dating and have been for two years, crossing the groups over just enough for Ashton Irwin to be the only one not knowing about Ashton Montgomery. Surprisingly, though, the whole school knows of Ashton Montgomery and her intriguing reputation, so how does he not?

"Who?" Ashton Irwin questions. He lays his hand next to him on the couch, trying to draw a boundary line from Calum to him. Calum still edges closer on the blue fabric. "Can you get me some tape?" He asks Luke. Luke, sitting in the chair next to the couch, grabs a roll of duct tape out of a drawer. "Calum, if you don't back off, I'll tape you to a wall." He rips a piece of tape off loudly.

"I'm talking about Montgomery!"

"Who?"

"Ashton!"

If Calum or Luke had to pick one person to be afraid of, Ashton Montgomery would be in the top slot. She's five-foot-nothing, full of pure sass and piercings. Ashton Irwin has seen his name twin in the hallway a few times and wants to learn about the abyss of Ashton Montgomery.

"Wait, you talked to Ash today? Tap some ass?" Luke asks. He thinks maybe, just maybe, Ashton conquered his fear of ripped skinny jeans, a grey tank top, and a red flannel. Ashton groans. "What? You're the one that wants her.

"And so does Calum,"

"Yeah, but they don't share a name," Luke smirks.

Ashton rolls his eyes. "When is the guy supposed to be here? I need to smoke so I can no longer hear you."

"Ask Mike," Luke answers, shrugging. He's no help. "He's the one that knows him."

"But he's showering,"

"Looks like you'll have to wait a little while then,"

Ashton is ready to kick some thirteen-year-old ass.

Luke stands up from the porch table, bored of painting on a canvas. Capturing her attention, Kalypso looks up to make sure nothing is wrong. He's got all 10 fingers, no paint is spilled, and his section isn't complete. "Calum can paint this himself," he says, stretching backward.

Kalypso looks down at their progress. Hood is written in fancy cursive and half painted silver with black outlining. "What time is it?" She asks, throwing her paintbrush into a cup of water. The canvas Calum chose is bigger than the table and one of the most agitating, simple paintings Kalypsos ever made.

"It's quarter till nine,"

"Oh shit," Kalypso jumps up to look at her phone. "I was supposed to call Stella." She quickly dials up her sister.

Luke focuses on the painting instead of Stella Montgomery's voice. So sweet, so soft, so silky smooth and calming like lavender perfume she uses every day. Secretly, Luke missed Stella and everything about her; the way she smiles over the stupidest things, her singing voice, how she whispers his name right before falling asleep.

When Kalypso ends the call, he has to distract himself. Quickly, before he falls in love with teal blue bedroom walls and indie songs. "Are you going to Calum's bachelor party?"

"Isn't that for . . . Guys?"

"Yeah, but you're like, one of the guys so it counts."

"Is there a stripper?"

"It's just Cal, Mike, Ash, and a few other guys. If you want to strip-"

"-I'm good. No worries,"

"So do you want to go?" Luke asks again. He pounds the bristles of a cheap paint brush into the bottom of a plastic cup to remove silver paint. Pounding, pounding harder and harder until he's afraid of destroying the brush. "It's just a sit around and drink beer type of night,"

"Yeah, I guess," Kalypso starts typing. "Let me tell Stella."

The paint water is dark grey, diluted with tons and tons of silver and only a few bristles of black. How does Kalypso spend hours just painting? Luke's back feels terrible and they haven't cleaned up yet. She must be a trooper to be able to do this all day every day, he thinks.

"Ready?" Kalypso asks.

"Yeah,"

"Ashton, answer the door," Michael commands. His eyes are glued to the TV, trying to beat Luke at Mario Kart. There's no way he's going to lose.

"It's your house,"

"It's your weed,"

"He's two hours late, it's probably shit too. Answer your door,"

"Pussy," Michael murmurs. He pauses the game while Luke whines about stopping, and stands up. A door leads right into the basement of Michaels's house from the outside, which is lucky because even though Michaels's parents love her, it's easier for Ashton Montgomery to walk into the house that way.

Michaels's hand rests gracefully on the door handle. His heels rise to check the peephole to make sure it is Ashton Montgomery. Unlike all of his friends and everyone else in his grade, a ground-breaking growth spurt still hasn't happened. His right leg is a hair shorter than his left, so he's anticipating it soon.

Michael opens the door to warm air and the smell of honey and vanilla shampoo. His childhood best friend claps her right hand into his. They move into a Bro Hug and let go when she reaches for the baggie in her hoodie pocket with her left hand. The price falls from her lips.

“Got it,” Michael slips the money carefully into her hand. “Hangout for a few?”

Ashton Montgomery nods and walks into the pathway Michael has opened up. She finds a spot on the couch, opposite to the spot Ashton Irwin has taken over.

"So you're still talking shit on me, Irwin?" She asks, pulling her feet into the couch too so she can sit in the fetal position. Michael sits on the floor to play Mario Kart again but turns around to hand her a sugar cookie his mom had made. "My time is not good enough for you?" Her initials are frosted in blue on a white background.

"Wait, so you're the-"

"-plug? Yeah." She slips the corner of the square cookie into her mouth. It tastes delicious. "I heard you're trying to compete."

"I'm not trying to compete, I'm just-"

"Selling? I don't need helpers." Another piece into her mouth, but this time, it's a straight bite from the cookie. Ashton Irwin looks her over, remembering that she's Michaels friend. She's not some stranger Michael invited inside. His mom made her a cookie.

"Will you let me-" Ashton Irwin starts. Ashton Montgomery opens her mouth to interrupt, but a stern finger in her face shuts her up. "-talk. You can't take up the whole neighborhood. You're 14."

"Fifteen," She corrects. "I turned 15 three days ago."

"Yes, of course," He rolls his eyes. "15 and a drug dealer. How could I have thought any different?" Ashton Montgomery takes a larger bite of her cookie, trying to fit the rest into her mouth. A tiny corner remains. "Let me guess, your favorite alcohol is straight vodka, your favorite movie is American Pie, you overcharge on eighths, and you're the baby of your family.

Michael glances back at Ashton Montgomery to see what she has to say. She swallows hard and dusts her hands on her black sweatpants. She doesn't have to prove herself to someone that doesn't need an answer, but she's sassy.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars,"

"Cars?" Ashton Irwin repeats back.

"Mack is under-appreciated and needs more love despite his mistakes. He didn't mean to leave McQueen behind. McQueen made him drive all night and-"

It was Ashton Irwin's turn to interrupt. "-I've never even seen Cars."

Ashton Montgomery takes her finger and points at him angrily. The rest of her cookie goes into her mouth with her other hand. "You're missing out." Her hands move to push back falling hairs from the messy bun underneath her hood.

"You only like Mack because your dad used to call you Mini Mack," Michael pauses the game of Mario Kart again to turn and face the Ashtons. Luke unpauses the game and waits for Michael to realize.

"Mini Mack?"

"My moms' name is Mackenzie-"

"-and she looks just like her. Mini Mackenzie," Michael finishes.

"Can we not talk about this?" Ashton Montgomery covers her face with her hoodie sleeves, wanting to just crawl into a hole and shy away from everyone.

"Is it like a sore subject of something?"

She jumps up from the couch. Sweaty palms dry themselves on her sweatpants. "We're oversharing." She shoves her hands into her pockets. "Don't get too close to your d*g dealer." She turns to leave.

"I'll walk you out," Ashton Irwin stands up off the couch too. Lucky for him, he's hit a growth spurt. He's taller than her by almost a foot. "Did you walk here?" Ashton Irwin is barefoot and not wanting to go far in pajama pants and a shirt.

"I live next door," He watches her piercing move as she sasses him. Just the smallest movement to the side. "I can walk myself home safely."

"I'm being gentleman-ly,"

"I'm being independent,"

"If you're going to be like that, then I'm just trying to ask for your phone number, Ashton,"

"Well you suck at it," Ashton Montgomery pulls her phone from her sweatpants pocket and smiles. A wad of twenties fell back into her pocket. "Here."

"I think this is the most confusing encounter we've had in a long time," Luke says, trying to figure out how to talk about the two without having to say full names. Ashton One and Ashton Two?

"Yeah," Ashton Montgomery accepts her phone back from him. He'd texted himself and inserted his last name into his contact information on her phone. "Still 'wanna walk me home?"

"Of course," he reaches his hand for hers.

Luke pops the top off a bottle of beer and hands it to Kalypso. She takes two large gulps from it and grimaces when she remembers she hates beer. It goes down sticky and leaves an aftertaste she's not fond of.

"Oh shit," Luke says after retiring into a lawn chair with his beer. "I forgot how much you hate beer." He takes a large drink to indulge in the tension.

"Bro, I could've told you that," Ashton laughs and sits across from Kalypso. There's a bonfire raging in between them, screaming in flames and burning sticks. Kalypso wants to jump into the fire so she can burn alive. She wants to disappear from Ashton's view.

Without thinking about the gross taste, the way it feels when it hits her stomach, the way too much too quickly twists her light-weight head. She downs the rest of it and throws the bottle into a bucket of glass far away. Ashton sassily looks away as if he were cursing Kalypso out in his mind and sips. He's not much of a drinker either.

Kalypso stands up from her chair and sets off to find Calum. If she can get away from Ashton, she'll be okay.

"Where are you going?" Like asks, getting ready to stand up too. Calum's backyard is spacious, equipped with a pool, a deck with a hot tub insert, and tons of play area for his dogs. Kalypso would be the one to get lost.

"I'm giving Calum his wedding present," Kalypso replies. The chairs they're gathered in aren't far from the door, tucked into a barren area you wouldn't see without a roaring fire, so if she turns the corner the spotlight should illuminate Calum. "Leave me alone."

She walks a few steps to the corner and notices everything. She's only walked from the laundry room door to the fire pit, instead of the glass door to the wholesome part. "Aye! Cal!" Kalypso calls to gather his attention to her.

The dark-haired man looks up from his phone, obviously distracted from walking to the fire. He waves her over with a smile. "'S up?"

She pulls her right hand out to clasp into his and he feels something burn into his palm. He pulls his hand away to examine what it is. Green nuggets inside of a baggie.

"No fucking way, 'Lypso," he grins wide and starts to open the baggie.

"Should be about five grams, maybe a bit more,"

"Oh my god I've never loved you more than I do right now," he pulls her into a close hug, pressing Kalypso uncomfortably into his chest. Calum hugs, as everyone calls them. He forgets about how small people can be, and sometimes just squishes them.

"Good to know that I'm only good for weed,"

"You're good for so much more than that," Calum rocks them both back and forth in the hug, wobbling on his feet. An extreme Calum Hug. "So much more."

"Like making Ashton Irwin uncomfortable,"

Calum squeezes tighter. Kalypso can barely breathe. "That's the highlight of my year, bitch. I've never seen one man so on edge by a tiny woman."

"Calum you're killing me,"

"Oh shit," Calum finally lets go. Kalypso's insides fall from their squeezed positions back to their regular programming. "weed mans still got weed, huh?"

"What type of person would I be if I didn't?"

Calum high fives her. Right hand to left. "Why do you always dap up with your right, but you're left-handed?"

Kalypso smiles. Calum surprisingly smells beer on her. "You see," she says, running and pulling him to the fire. "Because you're right-handed, and he's right-handed, and he's right-handed, and he's right-handed." She points one by one to Michael, Luke, and Ashton. "You just learn how to."

"I guess so," Calum answers. "So since you don't drink, you want something else? I can load a bowl if you want?"

"Sure," Kalypso smiles. She hasn't smoked with close friends in years. Before walking into their graduation, Kalypso, Michael, Luke, and Calum all smoked a joint in the parking lot. None of them remember graduating. That was the last time they all hung out.

"Ashton!" Mackenzie Montgomery yells when she enters their homey kitchen from the garage. Jasper and James, Ashton's twin little brothers, enter in behind her. "What's for di-" Mackenzie stops to survey the scene. Both Ashtons dressed in matching band shirts at the dining room table, enjoying some type of dinner. Two scented candles burn in between them. "I didn't realize you were having friends over. You're supposed to tell me."

Ashton Montgomery wipes her mouth with a paper towel. "You weren't answering your phone. I thought it would be okay." She picks up a shrimp from her bowl of Alfredo and pasta to put into Jasper's mouth.

"This is Iron Man," James holds up an action figure missing both legs. Ashton Irwin nods his head and takes another bite of pasta. "Who's your favorite superhero?"

"I'm sorry, I was just really busy," Mackenzie sighs. "Sorry for my disheveled state, sweetheart, I just got off the ICU floor so I'm done for." Mackenzie sets her belongings on the counter a few feet behind the wooden table. "Boys, leave Ashton and her friend alone for once please."

The twins are identical, including their need for glasses. Jasper's wispy brown hair falls in his face and into his black frame glasses while he munches on the shrimp his sister gave him. He's the so-called 'nicer' twin.

"You look like you like Superman," James tells Ashton Irwin. Ashton smiles at the young boy.

James is the outgoing of the two. He swoops his hair to the side to free up his tiny forehead, unlike Jasper. He's more sociable, open, and willing to meet new people. The Stella of the boys. He flirts, he makes friends with, and charms most girls he runs into. Including Calum's sister.

"Where's Stel?" Mackenzie asks, moving from the counter to the sink. "Ashton Kalypso, I'm going to beat you if you don't learn to put things into the dishwasher." She picks Tupperware the shrimp Alfredo had been in and rinses it out. The dishwasher opens, and clean dishes shine. "Ashton!"

Ashton Montgomery rolls her eyes and slides her food to Jasper. James steps away from Ashton Irwin to start eating out of his sisters' bowl. Neither of them uses a fork, causing Mackenzie to groan.

"It's not my fault when Stella doesn't empty the dishwasher," Ashton Montgomery sasses. The lip piercing moves with her lip, and every time it does, Ashton Irwin just wants to stare. Sass is her biggest quality, the thing she's the best at. "Like, ever!"

"She's twelve, give her a break,"

"She's actually thirteen, Mother, but if you say so,"

"Ashton Kalypso Montgomery, can you please not be so sassy all the time? Do you know how to be normal?" Mackenzie turns from the dishwasher and remembers that there's a guest in the house. "I promise I'm not bullying my child, I'm just joking around." She takes a deep breath. "I'm Mackenzie, Ash's mom, but Michael just calls me mom like every other damn person I run into."

"If you're hungry, help yourself, blah blah blah," Ashton Montgomery slumps back in her chair. "I already gave him the rundown."

"So if you make a mess?" Mackenzie asks.

"You clean it up," Ashton Irwin answers.

"Ah! I like you already!" Mackenzie says. She pulls her black hair from her face and into a ponytail. And Ashton Irwin can see the resemblance entirely. "I'm going to go get freshened up. Don't give the boys any dessert, please. And, oh! I never got your name."

Ashton Irwin stands up to shake Mackenzie's hand. She's taller than her daughter, but Ashton Montgomery is an exact carbon copy of her mother. "I'm Ashton." He holds his hand out.

Mackenzie takes it. "Ashton?" She looks at her flushed-faced daughter slumping further into her chair. Mackenzie's eyes go wide. "Oh! I've heard about you."

"Is it bad?"

"Not my place to tell,"

Ashton looks over at Ashton at the table. "Really, huh?"

Taking in a breath full of smoke from the end of a pipe, Kalypso leans backward in the lawn chair. Calum's got those expensive lawn chairs with cushions, and a fire pit built into a table. Kalypso's body is warm from the fire and the guys surrounding it. Calum to her left, Luke to her right, Michael on the other side of Luke, Ashton between him and Calum. Laid out in front of her, past Ashton's head, she can see the city she grew up in. Lights that never seem to turn off. Cars and people that will never know it's her sitting on top of the hill, her back facing an expensive house.

She lets go of the smoke in her lungs, a cloud falling from her mouth. So thick and warm it blends in with the smoke from the fire. Luke snaps his finger in her direction, garnering her attention from the pretty lights in front of her. She blows the remains of the smoke in his face, turning toward him. He's chewing on the edge of a cinnamon-flavored graham cracker.

"Truth or dare?" he nods his head toward her. He leans his head back to take the last of his graham cracker. Luke's hands rubbed themselves together to get rid of crumbs and he finally rests them in his lap.

"I'm twenty-three, Luke, not twelve," Kalypso answers. She's not interested in the game.

"Just pick,"

"Fine," she presses the opening of her pipe back to her mouth, ready to ignite her personal flames again. The fires of her drug reflect in the eyes of Ashton's, and he dreads the flick of her thumb on a blue lighter. "Truth."

"Wimp," Luke smiles at her and her lighter ignites. Ashton can't help but watch her, ignoring Michael and Calum's conversation. "Where do you work?"

She breathes in deeply and pulls away from the glass. "I paint custom canvases for people." She lets go of the smoke, turning her head to her right shoulder so she doesn't hit Luke in the face with it. "Follow me on Instagram, a-k-m-underscore-arts."

"Wait," Ashton pauses. He waves his hand in the air to cut her off. "I think I just ordered a canvas from you for Auzzie. Auzilynn, A-u-z-i-l-y-n-n,"

Of course, Kalypso thinks. "Yeah, I think you did," She doesn't want to talk to Ashton. She wants to forget he exists. Kalypso wants the broken gems inside of her to fuse back together, but she can't do that. She doesn't know why. "Uh . . . Mike, truth or dare?"

Michael glances at Kalypso. "Dare?"

Kalypso blinks quickly, forgetting the feeling of a spinning world from her low tolerance. Her eyes close for a few seconds when she balances herself and sets the pipe down on the table surrounding the fire. "Go jump in the pool fully clothed."

"Now you're the one acting twelve," Michael laughs. "But bet. It's hot out here anyway."

“Look at the moon," Ashton points a steady finger to the glowing globe in the sky, lighting their way down the bumpy sidewalks. Eventually, Ashton hopes he'll have a car, and when he and Kalypso hang out, they won't have to skate back to either house. "It's so pretty,"

"Not prettier than you," Kalypso blows a kiss toward him, just a few feet ahead. Her skateboard is smaller than his, but the bottom is scratched up and doesn't have as much paint as it used to. Emblems from Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Sublime, AC/DC, and Nirvana's smiley face were once painted over a pink sunset. Scratches from skatepark equipment are starting to fade the emblems.

Ashton catches the kiss in a hand and releases it to the sky until a horrific scream brings him back. Lying on the cement a few feet away from a crack in the cement, Kalypso's lying on the ground. Ashton stop's his skateboard and discards it in the grass. The moon illuminates her clear left cheek.

"Are you okay?" He slides to the ground next to her and grabs her left arm to shift her to her right side. Somewhat of a rash on her right cheek, her wrist cocked oddly, and she just giggles. "'Lypso, are you okay?"

She continues giggling, her chest bubbling from the ground and bouncing her curled hair. "It hurts like a bitch," Kalypso giggles when she's hurt, Ashton realizes. "You should kiss it and make it feel better." An odd coping mechanism, but at least she's not crying.

"Kiss what?"

"My broken fucking hand,"

Ashton presses his lips to her hand. Soft buttons of pink kiss lightly. "Better?"

"Oh second thought, I think I busted my lip open too," Kalypso smiles. Burning, stinging is flowing through her wrist and she winces when she tries to move her fingers. "It needs a kiss." It would be impossible to explain to Mackenzie, to tell her that Kalypso wrecked her skateboard and still manage to ride when she heals. Mackenzie will want to ban skateboards from Kalypso, Stella, and the boys.

Ashton doesn't think, he just does what she asked. As humans ruin everything they touch, Ashton and Kalypso ruin each other in ways that make growth. Like destroying the ground to plant a blooming tree or trimming long hair so it will grow longer and healthier. Ashton's lips ruin watermelon lip balm on Kalypso's, and Kalypso ruins Ashton's wonder of what it tasted like.

A fire ignited between the two, leaving them both breathless after a two-second kiss. Flowers grew from both of them, sprouting beautiful things. They can't believe themselves.

Ashton, the brunette boy that was a year older than everyone else in his grade, kissed the girl he thinks of first every morning until unconsciousness brings him to dreams of marriage and spending the rest of his life with her. The girl that smiles and makes him photograph the way butterflies land and stick to her hair, the way Ashton looks happiest on rainy days with clouds looming in the sky, and everything she never wants to forget.

"I win," Kalypso smiles, even though her entire body is shaking. Ashton sits up and wraps arms underneath her back and knees. Kalypso's pulled from the ground and she kicks until her feet are planted. "I bet Luke you'd do it tonight."

"Do what tonight?"

"Kiss me."

"So you're telling me you broke your hand intentionally,"

Kalypso sighs. "Nope," she looks at her already-swollen hand. It's terrifying. "Go hard or go home, right?"

"Truth or dare?" Michael laughs, his shirt gone, and hair wild. "Ashton." he sips a beer, feeling some type of buzz plaguing his mind.

"Truth," Ashton answers. He's holding his beer more than the rest of them. With Kalypso present, he physically cannot become intoxicated. He doesn't know how, but he knows that no matter what she's to be protected. After years of going out drinking with her in high school, he made sure she was safe before he was.

"C'mon man, all you pick is truth,"

"I don't want to go into the pool,"

Michael scoffs. "Fine. What happened two days before graduation, Irwin?"

Kalypso looks up from the ground. She can't breathe. The flowers inside of her started to choke her airways until she knew that Ashton was watching her. Act normal. Act normal. She pretends to be unbothered. Everyone can see through it.

"What happened?" She whispers and takes Luke's glass of whiskey. She drinks all of it at once and hands the ice back to his protesting whines. "I'd like to hear this."

"I didn't do anything, actually,"

"Really, because-"

"-I went to a party," Ashton leans forward to set his beer down. Elbows on knees, hands clasped together. "And I drank something that Sage had given me. I woke up three hours later to Luke screaming at me. Sage told him I cheated on you."

The first time he'd been able to say it directly, out loud, in the presence of anybody else. The first time Kalypso felt she could talk about it too.

"Really? I heard-"

"-Where's your fucking evidence, Ashton?"

Kalypso's eyes went wide. She hadn't been called that name in forever. Her family, her friends, everyone around her adjusted to her new name. She stands up from her chair. She no longer cares what happens, she no longer cares if she's ever around him again. "Where's your evidence that you didn't, Ashton?" The ache in her heart tells her that she still loves him as she did five years ago.

"Video evidence dating that the entire time I was asleep in my bedroom, she was at the diner on George Street telling everyone she was going to prank us with that,"

"Bullshit,"

"Why would I lie? Five years, five fucking years, 'Lypso! Why would I lie about that?"

Kalypso blinks hard, frustrated, and stares at Calum. "I'm going back to my hotel. I'll see you in the morning." She looks back at Ashton. "You can go fuck yourself."

"Eight, nine, ten, eleven-" A road of thunder interrupts Kalypso. Lightening lights the setting sky. "It's eleven miles away."

"Really? The radar says it's already storming," Ashton replies, smiling. Kalypso pushes his phone from his hands. Being overdramatic, Ashton falls from his side into a soft thump on his back. "Look, you're so rough you knocked me over!"

"Liar!" Kalypso giggles. Her right hand, jailed in a blue cast, clenches her blanket when she lightly pressed into his chest with her left. "I think you're perfectly fine."

After breaking her wrist, Mackenzie put her daughter on house arrest. Ashton, Michael, and any other friends can visit, but Kalypso can't go see them until she's healed.

"Dinner!" Mackenzie yells from the bottom of their carpeted stairwell. Kalypso stands up from the comfy bed and grabs her phone off the charger.

When Kalypso was old enough to decorate her own bedroom, she took advantage of the design. She was given two closets, one with sliding doors, and one that has a single door leading to a room of shelves. Years prior her uncle helped her remove the sliding doors and shove her full-sized mattress into the space. Pillows along the back of the closet, where the widest part of her bed is. She has a perfect view of her TV and the windows.

"Ashton, dinner," Kalypso laughs. Her hand ruffles his messy curls and giggles at his bandana choice. The same color as her hair- cherry red. "C'mon, I'm hungry!"

"You're going to have to force me, Hungry, I'm comfy,"

"Oh yeah?" Off of her nightstand, she grabs a disposable camera and snaps a photo of Ashton, his stubborn self, and all of his glory. "One day, we're going to be twenty-something, and you're going to look at these photos and say 'thank goodness I'm not that stubborn anymore'."

"And you're going to wonder why you have always been dramatic and use disposable cameras."

"It's easier to print and hang up,"

"I think you're a little bit obsessed with my face," Ashton points to the wall surrounding the bed. Photos of Ashton and Kalypso, some with Michael and the guys, or Stella and Kalypso the few times they've gotten along. She changes the switch of her fairy lights to illuminate the area. She never needed an overhead light with floor-to-ceiling windows scattered around.

"I am not!" Kalypso smiles. Her hair is messy, wavy, and poofy in different directions. She tucks as much as she can behind her ear. Ashton grabs the camera to snap a photo of her reaching for him. "Please! I'm hungry!"

"What'd your mom make for dinner?"

"Grilled salmon,"

"You hate fish,"

"But you don't!" She tugs harder on his hand. "I'm hungry!"

"What are you going to eat?"

"Grandma is making Jasper and I chicken strips," Calypso falls backward onto her hardwood floor when Ashton stands up. He catches her when her butt grazes the ground and pulls her into him. "C'mon!"

"So you get chicken strips and I get fish?"

"Yes!" Kalypso continues pulling Ashton out of her room, down the stairs. Stella and the boys have already made it to the bottom. "It's your favorite. Last night we had my favorite, and tomorrow we get James' favorite."

"You just had to include me, huh?" Ashton asks while he descends from the top floor. Kalypso's two stairs ahead of him.

She shakes her head. "Actually, I requested shrimp alfredo for dinner but no. Mom wanted me to have something you like," She lies.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh!" They end up at the bottom of the stairs and round the left corner to the kitchen. "You're here every day. Might as well include you."

James groans, looking at his sisters' boyfriend. "Do you ever go home?" With Ashton in the picture, James didn't get to spend as much time with Kalypso.

"James Samuel!" Mackenzie calls. "That's not very nice."

Pre-Ashton, James, and Jasper could fall asleep in Calypso's bed with her. When Ashton and Kalypso started dating, Ashton started sticking around until she falls asleep and goes home when he knows she is officially out for the night. The times Ashton stays with the guys, he calls her to talk when she feels drowsy. It's their routine.

Mackenzie sets a tray of chicken strips on the table for the non-fish-liking children. "Ash, can you- My Ashton," She smiles, uncomfortable. "Ashton Kalypso, can you get the tea from the outside fridge?"

"I vow we call her 'Lypso!" Jasper says, already stealing chicken strips. His dark hair falls over his auburn eyes.

"No!" James answers. "Ashton One and Ashton Two."

"Or," Kalypso holds a finger in the air. "Ditch Ashton entirely and become Fletcher and Kalypso." Ashton gives her a side-eye glare. "What?"

"I'm not going by Fletcher,"

"Noob,"

"Kalypso, tea!" Mackenzie demands and points to the garage door. Kalypso disappears inside.

"We should just sell Ashton Kalypso on eBay!"

"James, we aren't selling your sister," Mackenzie shakes her head. She sits on the first chair to the right, and across from Jasper. Ashton and Kalypso always sit next to each other on the other side of the boys.

"But she's a girl," He grimaces. "And she talks a lot now."

"I would rather her talk a lot than be silent again," Mackenzie says. "Ashton, you're a real blessing to her. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?"

"Until last year she never really talked to anyone but Michael and Stella," Mackenzie starts. Ashton couldn't believe that at one point, Kalypso was so shy she couldn't talk. "I swear she talked for an hour straight the day she met you."

"Mom," Kalypso groans, closing the garage door behind her. A pitcher of sun tea half mixed with lemonade in her hands. The only thing the boys will drink besides soda. "There are some things you don't have to share."

Three shots down, as many as it takes to go. Kalypso, even hating alcohol, wants to forget his name. She wants to forget that he exists in the real world and that he's so close, but so far away. All she can do is scream his name and wonder why she wasn't good enough. They were too young to know about love, and if they weren't they were too dumb to think that it could last forever.

Kalypso forgot the massive bar and hangout area Michael had in his basement. When the five, and sometimes Stella, became known and interested in alcohol, Michael's was the house to get it from. Easy access, nobody realized anything was touched. Either there, or stealing food from Kalypso's refrigerator, you could find any of them.

Luke sets down a box in front of her at the bar. "Ashton says this is for you." He slides it closer to her. Her palm stops it.

She doesn't want anything to do with Ashton. His stupid box, his stupid face, his stupid mistakes. She was rejecting his presence and everything that comes with it. "Shove it up his ass" She put another shot into her mouth and swallowed. Four in. So many more to go.

"Kal, can you please just take it?"

She slams her glass down onto the marble counter. "What's in it?" If it's stupid, there was no point in opening it.

"No idea,"

Kalypso tucks her pink thumbnail at the paper tape. She is just a slice, just barely a poke, away from whatever Ashton is up to.

"Probably just giving things back,"

"Five years later?"

"You never know." Luke grabs a knife from the other side of the bar and slices the top open quickly. Flaps fly open, revealing several things inside. Michael adjusts off a barstool to get a closer look.

Papers, indented and worn by ballpoint pens of all colors. Stuffed animals, jewelry, familiar things Ashton has given to Kalypso and she returned. Off the top, Luke lays a stuffed stingray on the bar. Kalypso loved that stingray, named it Dionysius, and kept it amongst her pillows for years.

A necklace with Ashton engraved in a silver plate, two stuffed bears his mom had made, and rocks they'd painted together. Movie ticket stubs from every date, and the millions of photos they'd taken together. She glued them to the inside when she gave him the brown box. She gave him the box that way and he never changed it. Maybe they weren't too naive to know what love is.

"Look," Michael says and grabs a photo from the box, pulling it off easily. "You were so small." He gives it to Kalypso to see.

Wide-eyed, a mouth full of braces, and wearing Ashton's clothes, Kalypso was sitting in Ashton's lap. Her hand blocking most of her face, leaving only Ashton and a thirteen-year-old Luke to be seen. Her hand was in a cast-- the photo was from when they first started dating.

Kalypso grabs another photo from the box. Sitting in the front, she was the smallest and not looking in the mirror like everyone else was. Kalypso's bedroom-- her mirror covered in plastic flowers, the boys and Stella posing with her. Calum to her left, Stella to her right, Ashton behind her, Luke behind Calum, Michael behind Stella. Stella had taken the photo. Kalypso was at least seventeen.

On the bottom of the box was a photo printed on regular printer paper of the fire she used to engulf his belongings. A jersey she had with IRWIN on the back for all of his football games, his clothes, and the rest of their photos.

"He kept this for five years?" She shakes her head. "Now, who can't get over who?"

Luke reads a paper in the box. "You should look at this." A giant blue #1 shone at the top of it.

' 'Lypso, I tried to talk to you and your mom yesterday to explain what happened and the whole story. You wouldn't give me the time of day. I wouldn't either, to be honest. '

She reads it aloud. The letter continues, explaining the box. Everything inside was the same and he didn't want it. Another paper, labeled #2, had a list.

1.I've written coordinates down. These are all the places where I knew I couldn't live without you. Something significant happened at each one and I remember them all perfectly. Plug it into google and remember, for me.

2. You can go there. If you want to pretend you're in a fanfiction of a young adult movie where we'll end up together. If you do, I have something there to remind you of it all.

3. You don't have to forgive me or take me back. I just want you to know how much I still love you.

4. They're not in order.

Coordinates:

"Either of you have Google Earth?" Kalypso asks. Luke pulls his phone out. She enters the first set and waits. "Literally we're right here." Kalypso looks for answers in the men.

"How about you go look in the downstairs living room," Luke hints. "That's where-"

"-That's where he asked for my number,"

"And you still have an interrupting problem."

Kalypso rolls her eyes, but can't seem to get downstairs fast enough. A photo is waiting for her where Ashton sat that night. She grabs the paper; it has something else to say.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars." "Cars?" "Mack is under-appreciated and deserves more love despite his mistakes,"

I swear that was the most eye-opening and Kalypso thing I'd heard, Mini Mack

"I remember that night," Kalypso can see it.

"15 and a drug dealer. How could I have thought any different?" Ashton Montgomery takes a larger bite of her cookie, trying to fit the rest into her mouth. A tiny corner remains. "Let me guess, your favorite alcohol is straight vodka, your favorite movie is American Pie, you overcharge on eighths, and you're the baby of your family."

"First night Ashton had bought from me personally," Kalypso felt the warmth through her entire body. Ashton remembered.

"I'm the oldest, I don't drink, I don't overcharge, and my favorite movie is Cars,"

"Cars?" Ashton Irwin repeats back.

"Mack is under-appreciated and needs more love despite his mistakes. He didn't mean to leave McQueen behind. McQueen made him drive all night and-"

It was Ashton Irwin's turn to interrupt. "-I've never even seen Cars."

He remembered one of the most insignificant things about her.

"You only like Mack because your dad used to call you Mini Mack," Michael pauses the game of Mario Kart again to turn and face the Ashtons. Luke unpauses the game and waits for Michael to realize.

"Mini Mack?"

"My moms' name is Mackenzie-"

"-and she looks just like her. Mini Mackenzie," Michael finishes.

The next coordinate was where she wrecked her skateboard. Taped to a broken stick is a photo of Kalypso laying on Ashton's bed with him. It was a few days after when everyone finally caught up with decorating her cast, and Mackenzie didn't realize Kalypso had left the house. She wore a white tank top, one strap falling off her arm. Right hand bandaged up, lays in Ashton's next to her. Kalypso was surprised by the camera Ashton's sister randomly ran up to them with. She caught a photo while standing on top of Ashton's bed.

"You should kiss it and make it feel better."

She still has the scar from the wreck on her wrist. A reminder of that night for the rest of her life. The feeling of Ashton's lips on hers. Warm cement painful under her palms.

"Kiss what?"

"My broken fucking hand,"

Ashton presses his lips to her hand. Soft buttons of pink kiss lightly. "Better?"

"Oh second thought, I think I busted my lip open too," Kalypso smiles. Burning, stinging is flowing through her wrist and she winces when she tries to move her fingers. "It needs a kiss."

He remembered eating dinner at Kalypso's house every night for eight weeks straight. The day her cast was removed, they went on their first date.

Makenzie made them do an uncomfortable photoshoot before their showing of Cars. A dress, a bowtie that clipped on, and uncomfortable shoes. Teaching Kalypso how to drive, laughing when she screamed while merging on the freeway. Video games, arcades, records. Their one-year dinner catered by Michael and Calum, listening to 2000s rap the whole time. Kalypso surprised Ashton with the jersey. One time Kalypso fell asleep on Ashton at Michael's house. Kalypso showing off her license when she got the guts to get it. A bonfire at the beach for Ashton's birthday, even though they couldn't swim.

They stargazed every night of the summer until the sun rose or sleep overcame them. Where they met for a concert, where Ashton parked his car at a drive-in date, Ashton getting a bunch of a facemask mixture stuck in his curls.

Their last year together. Driving around for hours on end, listening to AC/DC, and laughing. They always bought slushies beforehand. An entire day on a boat in the lake. Bikinis, tanning lotion, and seven of Kalypso's cousins. All he could see was her. Kalypso got her first tattoo at 18-- a dinosaur encased in a glass jar. A 50s themed Disney Movie marathon Luke, Calum, and Stella helped Ashton plan. The day before they broke up.

The day before they broke up.

'I'll always love you. -Ashton'

She drops the last thing into the box. Does Ashton still love her? Impossible to think about. He has a daughter, probably a girlfriend, probably an entire life she would be imploding on. She puts the box in front of her waist. Kalypso feels bare and like nothing before. "Can you take me to the hotel?" Ashton knew Kalypso better than he knew himself.

Luke nods his head and motions for her to walk with him to Michael's car. On the back window, there's a penis drawn in the dirt.

It's easier for Kalypso to be in the dark, wiping falling tears like nothing. Headlights illuminating the road, not her. Luke pats her hand on the armrest. She was once hard, a badass around everyone but Ashton, and now the only scary part about her is her quick wit.

Stella set up the hotel room. Toiletries in the bathroom, pajamas on the bed. The sisters decided to share a suitcase for their two-day trip. They'll fly back tomorrow night-- they'll go back to their apartments after picking Magik up from Jaspers, and Kalypso will spend all night trying to catch up on painting orders.

"What's that?" Stella asks, folding a shirt over her hands. She's getting ready for a shower. Instead of replying, Kalypso sets the box on Stella's bed. Her legs buckle underneath and her sister has to catch her before she shatters into the carpet.

Muttered words. Teas. Stella opens the overly stuffed box that they couldn't close. She is amazed, reading everything Ashton had to say about Kalypso. The photographs, the concert tickets to Blink-182 and some country singers. A stapled-together packet of Kalypso's favorite of everything. Songs, movies, food, drinks, even her favorite names. The joke she always made about naming their kids Asher and Ashley. Her favorite colors and the book she constantly read over and over again and became surprised at the outcome every time.

Ashton knew everything about her when they dated. Things she never realized herself. She knew him as he knew her. The day before graduation, though, he had made his decision.

Kalypso applied a white shimmer to her tear ducts. Dabbing opposite of a red smokey eye. Practicing her graduation makeup one last time and trying to get Ashton's opinion about it.

"How many of my bandanas are you going to steal?" Ashton asks, throwing another bandana toward his girlfriend. She wipes the glitter off her middle finger onto her blue jeans.

"We both can wear one," She folds the bandana up into a strap and hands it back to Ashton. "Put it on. You'd look cute."

"Cute? I'm supposed to be intimidating." Ashton giggles, but reluctantly folds the strip over his forehead and ties it at the base of his neck. "Now we look alike."

"Is that a bad thing?" Kalypso asks.

"Nope," Ashton stands up from Kalypso's bed to stand behind her. All he can think about is how much he loves her, how beautiful she always has been. Freshly dyed, cherry red hair chopped at her shoulders, curly from braids. "Are we still going to the beach after graduation?" She had tied a bandana in her hair to hold her hair back too. Black and white, like Ashton's.

"Yeah, but after the graduation party,"

Ashton grimaces. He has a surprise for her at the beach. A stupid party will get in the way.

"C'mon, Ash, your mom is throwing it for all of us,"

"She's such a cock block,"

"Ashton!"

"I'm kidding," Ashton giggles again.

"Now, what do you think of this look?"

"I think that you look beautiful no matter what," Ashton smiles. Her lipstick matches her hair and looks like it would stain his lips. "With or without makeup."

Calypso sighs. "You always say that," She grabs her phone from the floor. A text to Stella asking where she is.

"And?"

"You have to say that,"

If Ashton never said it, he'd be a liar. She is his princess, more goddess-like than anyone had ever seen. "Do you want me to tell you if you look ugly."

"Yes,"

"If I only ever told you when you looked ugly, I'd be mute,"

Kalypso rolls her eyes. "Of course you would say that."

Ashton's head reaches over her right shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek. "You look like the moon and every star in the galaxy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I can spend three summers straight watching you every time you're around and still get excited for the next one,"

Kalypso blushes. "You're so cheesy."

"I know," A ding from his phone distracts Ashton from his girlfriend. "Luke wants to know if he can come back with Stella."

"Sure,"

Ashton types quickly. The text sends. Luke's on his way with Stella. "Are you excited to be done with school?"

"Yes," Kalypso smiles. Braces removed, teeth are pearly white and straight. "We can hang out so much more than before. We don't have to worry about curfews or my brothers."

"Still dreaming about an apartment with a clawfoot bathtub and large windows everywhere?"

"With high ceilings and at least one cat? Of course,"

"We'll move to Melbourn and live happily ever after,"

"Melbourn? You've never said anything about Melbourn before?"

"I may be trying to pull a few strings,"

"Ash!" Kalypso gasps.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to go or-"

"-Stella entering the room! Please redress!" Stella announces, pushing Kalypso's bedroom door open. "What's the tea?"

"We'll talk about this later, okay?" Kalypso assures.

"Of course," Ashton hopes she's okay with it.

"He tried so hard on all of this, oh my, . . . wow," Stella's still pulling things from the box, looking over everything included. Her finger catches on a CD. "What's on this?" Kalypso has no clue but grabs her laptop out of her suitcase.

Her finger shakily presses play and a screen of dark lighting and an ugly girl sitting in a diner booth shows up. It's Sage.

Long, black hair pulled into an overly large messy bun that outweighed her entire head. A square-shaped face and a pig nose permanently turned upward.

Sage shoves a french fry into her mouth while smiling. The person behind the camera asks what Sage was so happy about. She shoves another fry into her mouth. "I came up with a genius idea. Prank the high school sweethearts. There's no way that shit can last forever."

"How'd you do it?" A boy sitting next to her asks.

"I put Nyquil in Ashton's drinks. Knocked him out cold. I'll tell him that he got super drunk and we had sex. The worst thing that'll happen is they'll break up." Sage giggles, covering her mouth. Her fingers are manicured with long acrylics and red nail polish. "I have to show this to like Stella or something so Kalypso isn't that depressed."

"Don't you want them to break up so you can date Ashton though?"

"Ew!" Sage shoves her friend next to her. "I could never. Not into weirdos."

Stella pulls her sister into her arms. The biggest hug she could offer to her best friend. Kalypso partly crawls into her lap, feeling like shit.

"I'm an idiot,"

"You didn't know,"

"Did you ever see this?"

"Not once. I haven't even talked to her since I was like sixteen,"

"I should've believed him." He probably has a wife, another kid on the way, a whole life with no room for Kalypso.

Stella grabs the box and turns it upside down. "He kept all of this for so long." All of the contents spill out onto the floor. "What's that?" She points to a tiny velvet box on the carpet. It only reminds Kalypso of one thing.

"No way," Stella passes the box to Kalypso. "Is this-" She cracks the box open and a gold ring with two silver diamonds on top stares at her. "Oh my God."

Stella picks up the ring. "I . . . I remember this. You and I have the same sized fingers so he made me go with him while you were at work one day,"

"You knew?" Tingles flow through Kalypso's body.

"He was going to propose on the beach. After you graduated. He was trying so hard to get his mom to cancel the party so you'd make it for the sunset."

Kalypso cries even harder, thinking about her past.

Kalypso ducks her head underneath the water of her hotel bathtub. Chocolate brown locks billow around her like she's some magical creature or a mermaid. She remembers when she was younger and would've stained the bathtub with different hair dye concoctions. The happiest moments in her life included colored hair -- and Ashton. Chocolate brown, like a symbolistic feature telling her she's not living to her fullest potential.

Her Last dye was that cherry red before graduation. Ashton brought out everything she loved about herself. Quickly, she resurfaced, gasping for breath. She couldn't live without Ashton. Stella threw her clean clothes and watched her run to the passenger door of Michael's car. They sped off, driving way faster than they should have.

Michael stopped in front of Ashton's moms' house, watching Kalypso knock on Ashton's door. Her hair is still dripping wet and staining the back of her shirt. Michael's anticipating someone answering the door. It's just Ashton, Auzilynn, and his mom. Someone will answer that knows Kalypso.

Ashton's the one to open the door. He can't even speak before her.

"You say you fell in love with me in the basement and you remembered that I'm Mini Mack. You stayed with me for eight weeks from the time school got out until I fell asleep when I broke my hand. You set up dates for me and you with Michael, Luke, Calum, or Stella creating stupid pasta dishes with mystery meat because we never had money because we were teenagers. You taught me how to drive. You put up with my constant pictures and annoying comments.

You spent summers with me on a trampoline looking at the sky because I told you that seeing the stars made me happy. You gave me one of your football jerseys when you would wear the other so we would match. You called me beautiful all the time, every single day, and never once let me forget it. You made me feel emotions I didn't know I had. I drowned in you, but yet," Kalypso finally looks up from the ground to lock eyes with Ashton. Her blue orbs lock with brown ones. "I believed someone with a fake tan and an ugly nose over you."

"It was because everyone else did," Ashton says. He's stone-faced, afraid that if he shows emotion he'll crumble. She's his drug, even after five years of straight hatred. "Luke, Michael, Calum, Stella," He looks away. Ashton can't stand to look at her anymore without turning into the high school boy in love with her. He spent five angry years going to sleep without knowing she was safe and secure with a pillow, a blanket, and that stupid stingray. "They all believed her because I couldn't remember."

"Yeah, but I should've trusted you," Kalypso starts tearing up. Her voice can paint pictures of nature scenes you only see in dreams, but her tears could destroy villages and towns. Ashton holds a hand out to her, wanting to bring her inside. "I was so stupid."

"You didn't know," Kalypso takes his hand for the warmth of a home again. One she spent a lot of time during her adolescence. The carpet is still warm and white, the couch with a strain on the armrest from when Ashton spilled something on it. His bedroom upstairs, where they made out one too many times. Her home away from home.

"You wanted to go to the beach," Kalypso whispers. "You . . . you wanted to go to the beach, and right before, I ruined it. I ruined it all. And now you have Auzzie and a maybe wife and I'm never going to be worth anything in your life but just right now I want you to consider, do you still love me? Right here, right now, that's all I need to know and I'll leave you alone."

Ashton pulls Kalypso close to his body for a hug. He smells the same, feels the same, and radiates the same energy he had for several years. "Ashton Kalypso," Ashton softly smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "You overthink way too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I could never stop loving you,"

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