#trying out some things with making 'nicer' graphics haha

[widowsresolve]

Happy (belated) birthday to @armadillowandering!! A little bit of Dill Pickle and family for you (with the very important addition of Morgan). 

Love you 3000! :)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be.��

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

--

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor. 

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you. 

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall. 

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud. 

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though. 

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself. 

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for. 

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts. 

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch. 

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours. 

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast. 

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing. 

So, yeah. 

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin. 

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting. 

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week. 

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role. 

You almost burst out laughing. 

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure. 

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking. 

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop. 

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table. 

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud. 

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table. 

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t. 

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression. 

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back. 

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh. 

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty. 

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness. 

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises. 

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never. 

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response. 

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually. 

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it. 

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it. 

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck. 

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you. 

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going. 

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue. 

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's. 

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss. 

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away. 

It started out with a kiss. 

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss. 

It was only a kiss. 

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it. 

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face." 

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over. 

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace. 

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his. 

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name." 

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip. 

"I doubt it," he purred. 

Yeah. 

Jungkook was right. 

Ah, well. 

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms. 

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips. 

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm. 

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand. 

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm. 

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name. 

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed. 

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him. 

Oh, fuck. 

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his. 

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered. 

Yours. 

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk. 

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin. 

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd. 

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick. 

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far. 

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl. 

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin. 

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat. 

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do. 

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled. 

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you. 

--

masterpost

[raedear]

If you reblogged this bc you are taking prompts: random 33? 😍

33 - ‘Welcome back. Now fucking help me.’

Warnings: non-graphic violence, implied torture

aaah haha hope you liked the spy thing from earlier???

Contrary to popular opinion, Joe does actually know how to keep himself out of trouble. He knows when to back off a mission if it gets too hot, and he knows exactly how much of himself to expose at any given time, and not an inch more. He knows how to cover his tracks, and how to blend back into normal society without issue. 

That’s what makes it so fucking galling that they picked him up in a supermarket of all places. He wasn’t even on a mission, he was just buying cat food - they made him through sheer bad luck. Some combination of the wrong person spotting him at the wrong time. Yes, he knows he should have at least shaved his beard off before trying to blend back in, but really. He’s not that distinctive looking, and he was a hundred miles from his last op. It shouldn’t have mattered. 

None of this is a comfort as henchperson number 4 cracks a knuckle on his cheekbone. 

—

There are nicer places to spend his holiday than a dirty, cramped basement, but need must. (Well. Not needs. Circumstance.) Best as Joe can tell, as much as twelve hours have passed since he was taken. He’s missed mandatory check in, so at least someone will know something is wrong by now (if they don’t think he’s just slept through it. Again.). He knows he just has to sit-tight and wait, and someone will be along to extract him, but that’s easier said than done when his body is more bruise than skin and alarming mutterings about pliers and drills were had within his earshot. 

They haven’t offered him food or water, and the zip-ties holding his arms and legs to the chair are industrial strength. Bad signs all around and not a hope to be had, but he keeps as optimistic a mien as he can. What’s a little pain really, in the long run?

(A little pain can be a lot in the long run, and the throb of his knee is worrying him, but he doesn’t have the strength to spare for it at the moment.)

—

The door has two locks, the second of which sticks every single time. It gives Joe an extra second to prepare himself, breathing deep and even, before he bares his teeth at whomever enters and ignores the way his lip splits again with the motion. Blood on his teeth can only help his look really, and he needs any kind of edge he can get.

Hulking henchperson number 2 this time it seems, power drill in hand. Joe flexes his fingers to feel his wrists strain against the zip-ties, and prays for fortitude. 

He prays harder when HH2 revs the drill and he sees the bit spin. It’s serrated. His face is stony, but he can feel fear pool thick and viscous in his chest. 

Like the breaking of rain after a drought, the pop-pop-pop of semi-automatic gunfire in the distance brings relief like Joe’s never known singing through his bones. 

—

He counts the seconds. There's nothing else to do really. He twists and pulls at his restraints and ignores the slow slide of blood down his hands and breathes through the ache.

It takes six minutes for the door to shudder as someone tries to force it open. It takes an additional minute for them to come back with the key. 

Joe works with numerous incredibly talented people. There's only a handful that could make it to him in that short a timeframe. Less still that could do it alone. He's narrowed his options down to three names by the time the door actually opens.

Nicky di Genova wasn't on his list, but he can't say he isn't happy to see him. 

As far as he knew, Nicky was overseas on an op, and wasn't due back for at least another month. He should be embarrassed, really, that someone with so much disdain for him is seeing him in such a state, but relief is sweet and heavy in his throat, and he can't help the slump of his shoulders at the sight of his wide eyes in the gloom. 

'Welcome back,' he says, flippant as he can manage. If it's weak, Nicky pretends not to notice. 'Now, fucking help me out of these, would you kindly?'

He’s never been on the receiving end of so much of Nicky’s focussed attention before. He finds he doesn’t dislike it. Nicky gives him one firm nod and crosses the room in three long strides, flicking a butterfly knife from his pocket as he moves. He cuts Joe’s restraints with a surprisingly gentle touch, sliding his fingers between the hard plastic and his broken skin to keep them from cutting him further, and he helps Joe pull his hands forward against the resistance of his bruises and stiff muscles. 

He pretends not to see the way Joe’s hands shake, and it’s a kindness Joe doesn’t know what to do with. 

‘Can you walk?’ Nicky’s voice is quiet and clear, and the way his eyes flick to the abandoned power drill by the door is unmistakable. 

‘Not completely.’ The throb in his knee has long since coalesced into an ache, and Joe knows it won’t take much for it to buckle beneath him, for all he was spared the drill’s tender mercies. Nicky nods again, and helps him stand without further comment. 

Joe is far from new to all of this. This isn’t even the worst he’s ever been tortured. Somehow though, he doesn’t think he’ll be shaking this one off any time soon. He thinks back to how he had admired Nicky’s shoulders in his suit jacket all those weeks ago, and wants to tell his past self that they’re even nicer as a scaffold under his arm, holding him up as surely as the arm he curls around his waist. Nicky takes his weight with every step, and leads him from the room. 

Nicky wreaked an impressive degree of havoc in six minutes. Every corner they turn is spattered with blood. Bodies litter the floors; bullet casings are scattered like the bleakest confetti imaginable, but aside from a scrape on Joe can just about see on his wrist, there’s not a spot of damage on him. 

(If Joe “trips” over the body of HH2 with a particularly wet thud, that’s nobody’s business but his. Nicky says nothing, even as he takes more of Joe’s weight for the seconds it takes him to lift his less-damaged leg higher.)

They come to a flight of stairs, the door at the top torn half off its hinges, and Joe can’t take the silence anymore. 

‘I thought you were in Sicily?’ He can hear the wheeze in his own voice, and hopes the pain in his side is just a cracked rib and not a punctured lung waiting to happen. 

‘Plans changed. I was needed here.’ 

Nicky’s voice is soft as he painstakingly helps Joe up the stairs. It takes longer than Joe really wants to think about, and he has to blink away sparks and black spots by the time they finally reach the top. 

‘Did you finish your mission?’ He doesn’t even know why he’s asking, he knows if Nicky says anything remotely complicated he’s going to lose the thread of the conversation immediately. 

Almost as though he could read Joe’s mind, Nicky pauses, adjusting his grip on Joe’s waist. 

‘Something more important came up. Someone else can take my place there.’ 

Joe looks at him from the corner of his eye. His face is pale and resolute, and he looks back at Joe with clear, unblinking eyes. 

Well. That’s certainly something. Joe nods, slowly, and tries to smile. It pulls at his lip, and he can feel blood slide into his beard again. Nicky cups his chin with his broad hand and lifts his face to the light. Whatever he sees, his eyes go darker than Joe has ever seen, and he has to look away. It takes a beat for Nicky to let him go, and Joe tells himself he doesn’t miss the warmth of his hand. 

Time starts to fracture the further away they get from the basement. It’s sunny when they step outside, and the wind is cold. From the looks of it, they’re in an office park. His captors must have been relying on the weekend quiet to keep their secrets, it doesn’t look particularly rundown or abandoned. Whatever they had planned, it wasn’t going to last long.

Nicky pours him into the front seat of a car, and when Joe blinks next he’s got a seatbelt clipped across his chest and Nicky’s next to him in the driver’s seat. A rosary hangs from the rearview mirror. It doesn’t look like a company car, but Joe’s eyes are slipping in and out of focus, and he can’t pick out enough details to say for sure. 

He thinks he feels a hand brush his hair away from his forehead before the weight of everything catches up with him completely, but that might just be wishful thinking. 

He doesn’t think about the last time he saw Nicky. Not about the fountain, or the moonlight, or his kiss. 

He doesn’t. 

[arthurflecksgirl]

Joker saving a girl from bad guys

This one was requested by hausofbaloons on twitter. I hope you will like it :)

Warnings: Violence and sexual harassement (not graphic but still)

I couldnt sleep. This town wouldnt let me close my eyes.

The sound of the traffic, the traffic lights before my windows. It was all too much. Gotham was so noisy yet so dead when you took a closer look to it.

I didnt even knew what got me here. All I knew was that I couldn`t afford my old apartment in my hometown anymore, so I moved in this very bad neighborhood close to Anderson Ave.

Finding a new job here was difficult,too. I was lucky enough to find one that at least would make enough money to pay the rent. The place was called HAHas. They rent party clowns. I didnt even knew anything about clownery, how they called it. I lied when I told Mr Hoyt that I have experience and hoped he wouldn`t notice. Not until I found a "real" job. I really didn`t wanted to end up as a clown.

They said it would take them a few days to get some clown clothes that would fit a girl. Which made me nervous. It seemed like I would be the only girl working there. But for the moment I just had to eccept this situation. Some day I would hopefully get back on my feet.

Watching out the window made me feel  disconnected to the world. Its funny how a new place can change your point of view about so many things. Some places consume you in such an short amount of time. That`s how I felt about this town since the day I unpacked my things and slept in my new bedroom for the first time. Everything felt...wrong. It felt wrong being here, sleeping here, existing in general felt like a chore. Amd looking at these people out on the streets, they must feel the same. My eyes were focused on a little girl with her mother. How aweful it must be to raise your kid here. To grow up here. I just wanted to leave already.

I drank the last sip of my tea and got dressed. Deep down I knew it wasnt a good idea to go out at 10 pm in the evening. At least not here in Gotham, I´ve heard that some alleys are really dangerous to walk through. But I didnt knew which ones, so I tried to avoid all of them. Which wasnt possible all of the time. I left the house, freezing a bit. It was colder outside than I thought. At least the radiator was working. All these streets looked the same. I didnt even knew where to go, just wanted some fresh air, get this tiredness out of my bones.

I wish I had something to be passionate about again. Passion was something I seemed to have lost somewhere along the way. Some days I felt like a robot, only functioning for others. I did things but I havent FELT them for years. It makes a huge difference if you just keep on doing things or if you really feel them.  I wasnt sure what made me stop feeling myself anymore. It just happened. Failed relationships, friends you lose along the way, working,... all these kinda things that consume you, leaving nothing left but the shell of you. I guess this town would`t help.

Walking this neighborhood felt lonely, even while being surrownded by people. But at the same time there was proof that I wasnt the only lifeless zombie in this universe. There were other robots, just like me. The walking dead. Shouldn`t this make it hurt less? Shouldn`t this be comforting?

I was so lost in my thoughts I didnt even payed attention to where I was heading to. Most streets still remained unfamiliar to me.  I hestitated when I realized that I  didn`t knew where I was anymore. All this garbage, the bad smell. I felt something on my foot and screamed. A rat. The biggest rat I have ever seen in my life. This place was aweful. I really had to go and find some place nicer a few blocks away from here. The sun went down hours ago, everything started to look the same. I felt tired. Insomnia really had me in its arms.

Whispers. In the corners of the streets. On the sidewalks. I wanst sure if my mind was only playing tricks with me. Being alone in a city like this, at 9 pm in the afternoon could do that to you. I should have stayed home in my bed. The bed that didnt felt like mine anymore.

The whispers got louder and I was convinced that it wasnt my mind playing around as I satrted to hear steps behind me "Hey doll ! Where are you heading?"

The voice of a young man and another one laughing right behind me. I felt fear crawling up my insides. I didnt even had any with me to defense myself. I grabbed my keys, so I could scratch them with it if they would attack me. My hand was shaking while I reached down in my pockets.

"Hey, baby. Stop. We are talking to you!"

I didnt knew what to do. Should I run? Should I stop, trying to calm them down by acting friendly? My hand so close around my keys I hurt myself. It was already too late to run away, one of them grabbed me by the arm. So firm I couldnt move it to use the keys anymore. That was it. Only some weeks in Gotham city and I was already dead. I should have known better.

"Take her stuff!" the other one yelled. He sounded obvously drunk. "I will" he hurt my arm again "But... I think there is even more we could do besides taking her stuff..." he grabbed my bag, hew it to the other guy and pushed me against the wall, violently. With his alcoholic breath. I felt my eyes watering. "Don`t cry baby doll. i`m sure you`re gonna like it".  The other one was laughing, while he took my money and cards. "Oh, you can have her. I already made out with the other girl an hour before" more laughter.  "Good" he yelled into my face "More left for me". Hands on my chest. Hands everywhere as he started to pull up my shirt. A whimper. it was mine. I started crying. "Stop crying you stupid bitch!" I tried to stop but i couldnt.

And suddenly a shot fell. And another one.

I still felt his firm hands around my arm as he hesitated to take a look around. thats when I saw the other guy lying face down on the ground. Blood tripping from his body. He wasnt moving anymore. "What the fuck?"  he let go of me, running to his buddy.

Thats when I looked the other way.

There was someone standing inthe alley with us. It was dark but I still could make out the color of his suit. It was red. And he was holding a gun in his left hand.  He came closer as the guy who wanted to rape me was yelling at the dead body on the ground.

His face was painted like a clown. A red nose, a big smile and blue around his eyes. His hair was slick back, slightly curly and green, almost reaching down his shoulders. He looked intimitating. But for some reason I wasn`t afraid of him.

"Are you okay?" the clown came up to me,touching my shoulder very carefully."Yeah...I guess I am".

I was still in shock. I just witnessed murder. This guy just shot someone in front of my eyes. He walked up slowly to the other guy.

"You shot my best friend!" the guy yelled.

"Get up!" the clown said

The guy was getting up. It felt like watching a slow motion scene.

"He didnt deserved to live. He was about to watch you raping her."

"So what? Maybe I can`t have her today. But there is always a tomorrow."

The man in the red suit took a step towards him

"You think so, huh?"

"Of course" the drunk guy said, looking at me with his hungry eyes "I would make her scream and..."

Another shot.

And after that. Nothing but silence and his  gentle hand upon my shoulder again "They can`t hurt you anymore". He lit himself a cigarette, sucking the smoke in like nothing just happened. The two dead bodies lying in front of us.

"Thank you for saving me from these guys...but....you just SHOT them !" my voice cracked.

He blew the smoke out "I know. They would have found another victim. These kinda guys never stop." He pulled my shirt down. It was still up from all the grabbing. "I just hope you`re okay. You`re shaking." There was somthing so comforting in his voice. I felt so torn between being shocked and being reliefed that someone saved me from what was about to happen.

"I`m still... in shock I guess. He tried to..."

"I know. Thats why I took care of it. People can be aweful. Especially here in Gotham city. You should even be out here on the streets alone".

His eyes pierced me. It was hard to not be attracted to him. Maybe it was the shock. I flt like a compleate freak, feeling save talking to someone who just shot two guys in an dark alley while waring clown make up. He obviously wasnt a cop or something. He must  have been some kind of criminal himself. I shouldn`t  even keep talking to him. "Do you live far from here?" he grabbed my stuff that was still lying on the ground, made sure to collect it all together and handed it to me "Sorry for the blood on it." There was something so careless about him, after mudering two men. And yet he seemed to care so much about if i`m okay.  I wondered if it was the first time that he killed someone.

I took my purse and the rest of my things "Um....no not that far. Maybe a 30 minutes walk. But I just moved here and lost track of the streets. It was so dark and I`m not sure how to find back home anymore."

He threw the last bit of his cig aon the ground "I could walk you home if you want. Which street is it?"

I didnt wanted to tell him my exact adress "Near Anderson ave".

"You`re kidding, right? I lived in Anderson ave all my life. I mean...I still do actually". He put the gun back in his pocket.

"Oh so you know the way back?"

"Sure"

I thought about this for a minute. Wasn`t this insane?

"Look, you don`t have to. I can go now" he said "I just wanna let you know that I wouldnt ever hurt you. i just killed those guys because they wanted to do bad things to you and they also said they would do it again. Its okay if you don`t trust me. Just let me know if I should walk you home. I dont mind eighter way."

His voice was so soft. I couldnt stop staring at the way he was using his hands while talking . They seemed to floath through the air. The way he moved was graceful. His slender body in the red suit makde me feel something. I was just very drawn to this stranger.And even though he did something bad. He only did it to save me. I decited to let him walk me home.

"No. I belive you. You can walk me home"

"Great" it almost looked like he was dancing as he turned around, smirking.

I was walking right next to him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure!"

"Why are you wearing clown make up?" i pointed at his face.

"I used to work as a party clown"

"Really?"

"yeah"

"Thats funny. I just got a new job here at Haha`s. "

His face immediately darkened. Did I said something wrong.

"At Haha`s, huh?"

I didnt dared to say answer. His face expression changed in between seconds.

"I know that place."

"Do you.... work there too?

"Not anymore"

I nooded. this subject didnt seemed to be a good choice for conversation. So I remained  silent. He didnt said anything anymore eighter. Everything about this felt weird but being around him was indeed very exciting.

"So this alley leads to Anderson ave" as we arrived at my block.

"Oh, I know the way from here. I don`t know how to thank you..."

He smiled. It was more of a smirk really. Behind all the make up. I was wondering how he would look like without the face paint. His facial expression was so interesting. Still intense behind all of this clown make up.

"No need to thank me" he said while his eyes kept piercing me. I wasnt sure how I should say goodbye to the one that just saved me. Maybe my life even.  So I just offered him a hug. he leaned towards me and let me hug him. His hands oddly lying on my back, barely touching me. He seemed kinda shy, which was very surprising.  For a brief moment I felt his cheek on mine. I even felt the softness of the white face paint upon my skin. Shivers running down my spine. I coulnt help it. Feeling him letting go of our hug almost hurted me. What was happening?

"So, since you dont live far from here, maybe I´ll see you around?"

He reached down his pocket, pulled out a pen,a piece of paper and started writing "Here is my number. I mean, just in case someone is bothering you again. Or following you.  Just call me when something feels wrong."

A card is falling out of his pocket. He pickes it up, looking at it for a little bit too long. I couldnt tell what it said but it must have been something important to him. He seemed nervous as he put it back "Not this one." he mumbled.

I once again told him how thankful I was before we said our goodbyes.

Heading back ome after all of this felt surreal. Did that really happen? I turned around and he was still standing there, lightening another cig.

I looked at the piece of paper he gave to me.

Arthur.

That was his name.

A beautiful name.

Just as beautiful as he was.

As soon as I got home, I hoped into bed. Once again I wasnt tired. How could I`ve been tired after this? I was more awake than ever. That face. I put his number on my bedside table, lying on my back. i just coulnt stop thinking about how his bare  face might have looked like. Would I even be able to notice him on the streets without his costume and make up? His green eyes and the smirk haunted me all night long. Arthur. He forgot to put his last name on it. Or was that onpurpose. Eighter way I had his number.

And then out of the sudden I realized that I haven`t thought about the fact that he might get caught and locked up for killing two strangers on the sidewalk. Panic was spreading inside of me like a tumor. If he would get caught it would be my fault. He killed them to save my life. I could have never forgiven myself that.

My heart told me I should get up, grab the phone and call him. Asking him how he would try to not being caught. If there was any plan or... This was ridicilous. What could I possibly say to him? I guess he was aware of what he just did. I started sweating and opened my window. More noises of people yelling at each other.  What an aweful city. He seemed like the only nice person I have met since I moved here. With his face and voice in my mind, I was finally able to FEEl something again. The sensation of having strong emotions was something I thought I lost. And all of the sudden I imagined this stranger in my mind. Someone I knew nothing about. But he made me feel something. It was like awakening from a long, dark sleep. Maybe my heart wasn´t dead yet. Maybe there was a spark left inside of me. And he lit it. Not only because he saved me. It was his presence. The way he looked right though me. His cheek against mine. Those hands. Images of fresh memories started to floath my mind and I enjoyed it. I finally enjoyed something again. It was like I felt my own heart beating in my chest. I havent felt that for years. Sometimes I didnt even knew if it was still beating anymore. And now it was so loud. A competition to the traffic outside.

And after hours of thinking about him I finally fell asleep to the sound of the traffic.

Red painted lips.

A fake smile covering a real smile.

I put one figer on his upper lip. I can feel a scar.

Pressing it softly, before his face comes closer.

He leans in before I feel the softest kiss upon my lips.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes, realizing that I just dreamed about kissing this total stranger. He really managed to get into my mind. I still felt his lips on mine. I thought about his hands. I took a close look to them when he was holding the gun. They looked so gentle. I caught myself thinking about how it would feel to be touched by those hands. To hold them.

I got up, made a coffe and got dressed. I had to go to the pharmacy to get some sleeping pills. I just couldnt do this anymore. Lying awake all night drained the life out of me.

Gotham looked the same way at daylight as it looked at night. Just as dark and depressing. Hopefully the sleeping pills would help me find some rest again.

After I arrived the pharmacist asked me if I had experience with sleeping pills and told me about all the side effects. i just wanted to get out of ther for gods sake. Two minutes laer she was still taking to me, not even realizing I wansnt listening anymore, someone else entered the room. I was glad because she was alone there and had to  serve the other costumer now. But she still kept talking.

Suddenly a voice from behind interrupted her "No, the other ones are actually better. And you can get them without a recipe,too."

"Excurse me?" the lady said "The ones on the left" a tiney looking man with brown curls was coming up to us. He pointed at the meds, looking at me "Belive me. You want those. Not the ones on the right. They will give you bad nightmares."

"Oh. Okay thank you, Mr." I looked at the pharmacist "So, I want those, please" she gave me a look and told me how much they were. I payed, taking another look to the man beside me, as he put different receipes on the counter.

There was something about his facial features. His eyes. Those piercing eyes.

The lady gave him an annoyed look "As usual, Mr. Fleck?"

"Yeah"

"Alright. Give me a minute to get them"

He nodded.

His hands.

"Arthur?" I wasnt sure if I was out of my mind but he reminded me of the clown who saved me last night.

He immediately faced me when I said his name. IT WAS HIM.

"Yes?"

"Its you right? You were the..... " I whispered "The clown that saved me last night"

He smiled in a very shy way, he lowered his voice "I was".

That feeling. There is was again. I didnt knew what was happening to me. I just fell for this man. His bare face even more beautiful than I imagined.

The sales woman came back, handing him out three bottles of meds.  He hesitated to put them into his pocket, like he was afraid I might get a closer look to it. I finally took my sleeping pills,too. Still staring at him.

"I thought about you last night" saying the words out loud I just realized how it sounded like "I mean...not like that. Oh my god this is embarrassing. I`m sorry."

You don`t have to be embarrassed.. what was your name again?"

"I`m Y/N"

"Hi Y/N!" he offered me his hand. HIS HAND! The one I dreamed about last nicht. Fantasized about being touched by it. His skin was even softer in reality. We got out of the pharmacy together, standing in the middle of the crowded streets.

"Arthur, I have to thank you once again and I was woried about you. Umm..You can imagin why. "

His arms hung down on him in a weird way. A body languare so differently from last night. So shy, intimidated even. By what? By me?

"Don`t worry about me Y/N. I always get back on my feet."

"Yeah well " my heart was racing in my chest while looking at him "You were the only one here that was ever nice and taking notice since I moved here. I`m always alone since I`m a citizen of Gotham city"

He lit a cig "I can imagin. I`m alone since the day I was born"

Why would he say that?I noticed how sad his eyes were, behind his stare, behind the piercing look of his green eyes, there was so much sadness. I had a better look into them now in the daylight. His beautiful face looked kinda tired. Tired of life.

I knew that feeling. I wanted it to fade from his face. I wanted his eyes to light up. And I wanted to be the reason for that.

"Arthur, do you want to go out with me? Like... for a coffee?"

His hand started to shake a little "You mean like a date?"

"Um..." I felt myself blushing "I dont know....if you want it to be one."

He smiled "If YOU want it to be one."

We headed to the next coffee shop, not saying a word as our hands touched slightly ,but our smiles said it all.

Maybe we both were alone.

But now it was time to be alone together.

@impulsiveclown @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @jokerhoe @gwynplaine89 @damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle  @duhliriouss @sadjesterautumn @therealjokerking10 @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes @downtoclown-around @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie @jokerflecker @casiaregina @check-out-this-joker @mrsjfleck @darknessisafriend @bring-your-holy-water @nicoleverse @mdme-rosary @arthurhappyclown @yami-rhs @mrsjfleck @cmollica @mollyxlyla-rosex @widkkfowpqpsnanq @rhokie @neon-umbrella-for-stella @queenie70 @casiaregina @missmayx @these-written-reveries @cherrymoon75

[onepdumpsterfire]

Summary: Usopp moves to the city after a year since his mom died in a way to feel closer to her. There he looks for a roommate and finds none other than Zoro himself. what fate has in store for them is left for a later date lol

Roommates

Usopp . Zoro

It’s been almost a year since my mom died. She’s been sick for a long time, so I knew this was coming for some time now.

Even so, knowing didn’t stop it from hurting just as much.

Since her funeral, all I’ve done is coop myself up in our house. I’d probably turn into a hermit if it weren’t for my neighbor, Kaya. She came around whenever she had the chance.

That was nice of her considering what she has been going through…

But the more she worried about me, the guiltier I felt.

I know that she can't help but take care of people. Hell, It's why she’s been studying pharmaceutics, but I also know she can do so much more with her life. She could be some big-city doctor or researching to cure cancer!

Wouldn’t that be so much cooler than being stuck in a no-name city, too small to even afford more than the one clinic it has?

In any event, that’s only one of the reasons why I’ve decided to move away for a while. I think some time out of this house would do me some good.

The city that I’m moving to isn’t all that big and a bit further than I’d like it to be, but that’s the point of moving, right?

One way or another, I chose this city because my mom fell in love with it. She used to tell me about how, when she was young, she used to travel all over! She’d seen it all. Every tourist attraction and big-name city, but there was something about this city that just took her breath away. She told me that this place managed to calm her need to be constantly moving. This is also where she got pregnant with me then later she moved back to where she was raised and had me.

As much as she loved it there, she wanted me to go out on my own and find a place that would ‘sate my most wild urges and fuel my deepest desires,’ as cheese-ly as she put it.

At first, I thought she was joking.

I thought that she only liked that place because it’s where she met dad… It’s also why I hated this city.

My father was a coward that ran away as soon as my mom got sick. Though, she never blamed him for it. I never got to as her why, though. Years later, I did ask her if I was right. That she only romanticized this place because she fell in love there. However, she told me that he was only part of the reason why she loved this city so much, and that if I didn’t believe her then I should go find the depth of this city for myself.

I debated with myself for the longest time. Whether this was the right choice, or if I was ready to set foot in the place I used to loath so much. But being here now, I feel so much smaller than I thought I was. I’m nowhere near the heart of the city, but the sheer enormity for this place makes it feel like it’s trying to swallow me whole.

Sure, back home we had a lot of open fields and the horizon was always noticeable, but here the buildings towered over everything. It felt like a tsunami that threatened impact but never collided. The horizon was replaced by millions of stars that fell from the sky and sat just out of reach so that if you got too close thy’d turn into someone else’s day. Someone’s life.

There are so many people here that It almost made it feel lonely. Being surrounded by so many lives yet being so far from them. A mirage in a desert, one could call it. It promises life, but the closer you get the more you realize you could never get close enough.

I guess I was too much of a coward to be as alone as I felt when I first stepped foot here, though, I’ll keep telling myself it’s because the apartments here are too pricey and I only managed to land a job as a gas station attendant. Nevertheless now I’m sitting on the first floor of a fully furnished two-bedroom apartment checking a roommate wanted ad I posted earlier this week.

So far there have been only two people who wanted to move around this area, but one ghosted me after a few messages and the other ended up creeping me out so much that I had to report his account! I just hope the last person that answered my ad isn’t as much of a weirdo as the previous two.

They seem to be a bit curt, but I shouldn’t get too picky. Rent for next month is gonna be due soon, and there is barely anyone who wants to live near this area as is!

I’m sure that they’re nicer in person! I shouldn’t worry. It’s just two days.

Two days.

-2 days later. Thursday 2:30 pm -

When I arrive at the coffee shop, I walk straight to the back of the line. It isn’t that long and I’ve got here thirty minutes early, so I should have time for a drink before they get here.

Should I get something for them too? No, that’d be weird, and it would probably get cold by the time they get here.

The person in front of the line leaves and we all step forward.

Shit.

Someone arrives and lines up behind me.

I didn’t ask for their name! I don’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl!

The next person leaves and we take another step forward.

Is it too late to ask? Would it be weird if I did?

Another step forward

What if they’re a girl? Would they feel uncomfortable living with a guy?

“-ir?”

I did put on the ad I was a dude though…

“-cuse me, sir?”

“Huh?” The barista’s voice brings me back to earth. “Oh, sorry!”

“It’s okay!” her chipper voice rung out, “could you repeat your order? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“O-oh, sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out loud. I was lost in thought, I guess... haha ...” I looked up to their hanging menu, more so to look away from her than to figure out what I wanted.

After putting in my order I take a seat at the very back.

Ten minutes later my drink was ready and my anxiety was rising again.

What if they don’t come?

Five minutes later and I sent them a message to let them know I’m here.

Maybe I could’ve phrased it better?

That sounded weird…?

God, is that a typo?

five minutes later

They haven’t answered, but that’s okay! It’s only been five minutes. Can’t expect them to be by their phone 24/7 right?

I’ll play some games on my phone to distract myself. Yeah, that’ll be fine. It’s fine.

I take a big gulp from my drink

I downloaded that new game. My hopes aren’t high for it, though. I found it via a random Facebook ad. Hopefully, it’s not one of those scams that say 90% of people can’t pass level five, but it’s only ‘cus no one lasts long enough to get to level five.

Hmmm… it seems plays well. A bit of a lag but the graphics are awesome! The old-style, pixelated art and bright, neon, solid colors give it a very retro vibe. The ads between levels kind of ruin the experience, though.

Guess they gotta make money somehow, right?

I wonder if they’ll go away if I turn off my data and Wi-Fi.

I shouldn’t just in case the person I’m meeting tries to reach me.

Could be fine for a round or two, though, I’d anxiously suffer through all of it.

I shouldn’t just in-

A sudden scraping sound from the chair opposite of me jolts me from my hypnotic state. “Hey,” a green-haired man in front of me mutteres before taking the seat he pulled out.

Taking in his form as he makes himself comfortable, my mind begins to race. Green dyed hair with roots of black hair showing. Fitted, sleeveless Nike shirt and black basketball shorts paired with a white pair of sneakers.

Oh, god. What’s with the green hair? He looks super buffed. Am I about to be mugged? No, that’s stupid. He wouldn’t have sat- in a cafe, really?

I quickly glance down at my phone for the time.

Exactly 3. Is he super punctual? More than likely a fluke, but impressive nonetheless. What if he’s a perfectionist?

My thoughts continue to swarm around my head, buzzing in an insatiable mob until a humming silence washes over me. Like one of those box televisions from back in the day. Not broadcasting anything in particular, stuck on a blue screen, droning on in silence.

The sudden stillness in my thoughts came so abruptly that it almost gave me whiplash. That aside, I need to focus now and answer him.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t ask for your name-” I left my statement open so that he could fill in the blank“-Zoro”

“R-right, Zoro. My name’s Usopp,” I waved my hands like the gesticulation would somehow help my words form into a coherent sentence, “but you probably already knew that from my ad... Hah..” I gave a quick huff before pushing through my awkward inexperience with ‘interviews’. “I was thinking we could talk and get to know each other before I take you to see the apartment.”

“That’s fine by me,” Zoro relaxed further in his seat. “What do you wanna know?”

Right at home, ain’t he.

~Do you smoke? “No”

~Are you a messy person? “I don't have a lot of things other than clothes.”

Doesn't quite answer the question but ill take it.

~Do you have friends over often? “No”

~What do you do for a living? “I’m a bouncer at a bar near here.”

Explains the muscle.

~Can you pay rent on time? “Yes, actually I brought the first month’s with me. Your ad said that split cost between the both of us plus the utilities would be $487 right?” Zoro dug around his pocket before pulling out a folded wad of cash and handing it to me.

“U-uh yeah,” tentatively I reach over to take the money. “Yeah...” I doubt I can find someone else by the end of the month. Zoro’s my safest bet at getting a roommate before next rent's due. He doesn’t seem so bad, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.

...I guess this means there’s only one more question to ask.

“Do you wanna see the apartment?”

[pilot-kun]

5 things tag!

tagged by @jongintricacies and @kyungsooslatinagf thank you lovely friends!

tagging: @excusemehotchocolate @allofmylovelove @knno @sunnpils @minyoongspyjs @leetaeminie @mydaysix​ @oh-beyond @pikayeollie @pinktwinkleo 

5 things you’ll find in my bag:

my small and sort of tattered, burgundy and “white” woven wallet. it’s actually a coin purse one of my friends from high school brought me from Mexico. there are turtles woven in as the design. i use it for my cards because i never carry cash lol

vanilla-almond hand lotion

a brand new flash drive which i meant to use to store edits id like to keep, but i haven't used it yet so... 

my keys! 

sanitary pads because, even if I'm not on it, someone else may be on their period and may need one, so i always try to have at least one in my bag/backpack

5 things you’ll find in my room:

a branch from a pine tree my dad brought me when he was driving back down from Oregon; it was around christmas season, so he told me he brought me a christmas tree lol 

my growing collection of disney pins 

license plates from various states/ countries (some are actual plates and some are those you buy as souvenirs)

a jar of foreign money from my travels (mostly pennies from england) 

glow-in-the-dark stars that hang from my ceiling right above my bed

5 of my favorite things:

coffee. a nice cup in the morning is a good way to start the day for me

kpop clearly haha 

rainy days. like pouring rain type of rainy days. i love them so much 

food. i always like trying new places and new cuisines. it’s always nice to go out with friends and find new places to eat

being on my own. i appreciate being with others a lot, but i also really like being on my own. there’s something so nice about being able to just focus on what i want to do or what i have planned to do. i feel a little less stressed on my own

5 things I’m into right now:

learning more about graphic making. i never really thought i would be able to learn how to do graphics in the first place, but now that i know basics i want to learn how to make nicer things. i see the work of some of you on here and i am so blown away by the talent and skill (ill never get there, but you are all doing fantastic!)

I'm really into wayv... like this started because ten is my son and i wanted to know what he was up to, but then kun attacked and now he's my bias and wayv is super talented and im hooked on what they do...theyre great... 3000/10 would recommend

getting some proper rest??? in theory i am very into this... in practice not so much tbh

cloak and dagger. the show is amazing and the way the narratives of the characters are all unfolding is really brilliant. i recommend this show. the soundtrack of it is soooo good too

annoying the crap out of my friend shaela with my stupid ass commentary about education, people, life, anything and everything tbh... im surprised she hasn't thrown me out of her car as she's driving yet

5 things on my to-do list:

re-film my portion of my korean presentation and edit the video (the audio was kinda off in some areas so i would rather film it all again)

get some damn sleep (like a proper sleep where i don't wake up tired because i know i have things to do...i really need this) 

finish watching he is psychometric. i only have two more episodes to go

properly clean my room (i have never had it messy like this and it stresses me out)

[chibispaz]

So uhh I was going to put this in the tags but it's kinda long :/

obligatory I'm not a social worker, however I was taking a class to be one in college at the time this story took place

So, at the time I was working late shifts at McDonald's and this kid came into my store at like 11:30pm. Now this kid is maybe 16 years old and people that age coming there that time of night wasn't exactly uncommon so I gave him my usual greeting script and he replied saying "I want money". So I'm like  "haha very good sir, that's very funny now what would you like to order" and now he's just staring at me. So he repeats himself and I'm like lmao this joke was funnier the first time so he then proceeded to pull a gun out and point it at me and said "No, I said I want your money. I'm robbing you". Now I wasn't in a super great place mentally and had already experienced some pretty heavy Trauma so I just started laughing like full on lost it laughing and this kid who's like 16 at most is like wtf is wrong with this lady.

So I take him behind the counter and pull my drawer open and surprise! it's empty my manager took it to count and then locked it in the safe and forgot to give me a new drawer before going in the freezer to check inventory before our next order and our grill dude was in the bathroom and both of them were gone for like an hour at that point so it's just me and this kid. So he made me check the drive-thru drawer but it's locked and needs a key and a manager's pin code. I explain that I have neither of these things and when asked about the locations of my coworkers I was like "lmao dude hell if I know, they've been gone for over an hour. they probably went home because it's been so slow". So we check the safe which I also can't get into and the empty back drive-thru register before he's kinda defeated and puts the gun away.

So I ask if he wants food since he came all this way and he's like uhhhh sure??? so I make what he asked for and now at this point he's concerned that I'm going to call the cops and I told him that since he didn't take money and that nobody got hurt that there was no need to call cops. He was pretty surprised but relieved so he chilled in my lobby and ate his dinner while I did my cleaning. We got talking about the failed robbery and he explained that it was an important gang thing. See he lived with his grandma and the landlord wasn't using the rent money to pay on the house so it got repossessed. He wanted money to pay to keep the house so he got flirting with some gangs who promised to help financially if he could prove himself to them. 

So this is the situation sitting in front of me after he explained everything: a 16 year old kid is living with his disabled 75 year old grandma and a mom that's in prison and no dad just trying to financially provide for what little family he has. So I got him in touch with my professor who actually was a social worker and we got them help. Unfortunately we couldn't keep the house from being repossessed for them but they did get help getting settled into nicer more stable housing. However while talking with this kid I told him that I was proud of him for trying to look after his grandma, but that if it had been someone else and been a successful robbery that he could have gone to jail. He can't take care of her if he's locked up and when he gets out how it's going to hurt his ability to get a decent paying job.

Now what I told him isn't anything new and idk how much he already knew and experienced but from his surprise I don't think he thought about how serious these things were.

I did however tell him that if he was still interested in taking our money that we were hiring for 2nd shift people and would work with his school schedule. He ended up filling out a job application and got hired and was one of the best workers we had. I liked him immensely and we're still friends. He stopped looking to join gangs and last I saw, he went to college and was going into graphic design and marketing.

Cops can't fix stuff like that. Some 16yr old makes a stupid mistake/bad decision and thanks to cops it would follow him for the rest of his life. You need empathy and proper de-escalation. Kinda sad and somewhat intriguing that some 19yr old grunt worker at McDonald's can handle stuff like this with no training better than a cop who supposedly trained to be able to handle things like this.

I’d like to tell you a little story today about why a lot of problems need social workers, not cops.

a long long time ago…like 2010, I worked 2nd shift (2pm-10pm) in a homeless shelter. I worked on a floor specifically for men with addiction and mental health problems. For most of the shift, I was the only staff working. Most of the time, the job was chill to the point of being boring. My job was to do the little things that needed doing, and be always ready to respond if shit went down. Most of the time, nothing much happened.

So one day I’m sitting at my little desk, trying to get up the motivation to organize the food pantry a little bit, and I head SCREAMING.

By the time I’m on my feet, one of the residents was in view. Dude was 6ft 4, with a shaved head, and a SOLID build. He was screaming down the hall, and in his raised fist he had, I shit you not, a blood-covered meat cleaver. He was spattered in blood all over. I knew the man- I knew all the residents. He mostly kept to himself. Sometimes he’d talk to me about his hallucinations and paranoid delusions. (no question these ones were delusions, kids. Man eating pythons can not fit in a half inch radiator pipe.) He had a history of getting pretty worked up.

Switch the camera around 180 degrees. I was 120 lbs and 5ft 4 on a good day, and all by my self. Totally unarmed.

Ask yourself- what would an armed cop do in that situation- alone, with a huge man running at them with a huge bloody knife?

I’m not gonna pretend for one second that my fight and flight instincts didn’t kick in. The ancient parts of my brain that exist to protect me from danger by fleeing or killing something saw this and screamed a great big NOPE.

But by this point I had like 8 years of other training, to. De-escalation training. Training on keeping a cool head in a scary situation. Training that reminded me that I was responsible for the safety of the other 17 men who called this floor their home.

Training that told me that this man was my responsibility, not my enemy.

In short, the opposite of what many police departments train their officers in. They are trained to view people as hostile, to treat their beat like a war zone. To act immediately. I wont say none of them have de-escalation training, but I will say it’s a bit of a useless add-on when they’re taught to go with their gut feeling of whether or not a situation is dangerous.

Because my gut sure as hell perceived a danger.

Anyways, I didn’t run, and I didn’t attack. I rooted my feet and I asked him what was going on.

That was when I saw that he was weeping. He was terrified.

He had bought a new cooking knife off the tv- he liked cooking, and had been looking at it. But one of the side effects of his meds made him clumsy, and he’d dropped it. He’d sliced open the back of his knee, where there’s a huge vein or artery or something- and was bleeding a LOT. 

He was understandably alarmed at the river-like quantity of blood gushing out of him, and had run to the nearest help- me.

In his rush and his fear, he’d just forgotten to put the damn knife down.

The other residents had, thankfully, all stayed in their rooms, because a month before I’d got on several people’s cases for coming out to defend me- with the very best of intentions- during a previous incident. Their motives were good, but de-escalating a situation when other people are ready to throw hands is WAY harder. I’d told them to keep their buts in their rooms unless I actually called for help, and God bless them, every single one of them had done it.

This is the point when I called for help. One of the residents got the first aid kit. One called an ambulance. One gave me the literal shirt off his back because our damn first aid kit didn’t have a tourniquet so we ripped the shirt up to make one.

We helped calm the poor injured guy down, and he got a few stitches, and everybody was proud of how we’d come together to help each other out.

Nobody was hurt beyond that one initial injury. Nobody was traumatized. If anything, the guy who’d been hurt was happier, more engaged with the rest of us, having seen that everyone here would take care of him when he was in need. He hadn’t had much care given to him in his life.

So when you see meme’s of “lol what are those social workers gonna do NOW huh?” please remember that 1) we’ve been out here doing this work ANYWAYS and 2) We’ve been doing it unarmed and level headed, which is better than the cops.

Now, does social work ALSO need reform? Does social work ALSO contain racism and ableism and every other social evil? You bet! Just look at…like anything to do with CPS to look at how these systems break down.

But do not use social workers de-escalation training as some kind of “gotcha” to prove we need armed and militant enforcers on every damn corner. And please don’t let others do it, either.

A better way is possible.

[gamearamamegathons]

Dragon Quest V: Baby Dungeons

Circe here! I've only just started Dragon Quest V, but I've been thinking, given the sheer size of my last post on Dragon Warrior IV, maybe I should be writing shorter, more frequent posts rather than letting a huge amount of plot build up before posting, especially now that the games...actually...have plot. Besides, there's a lot to talk about right off the bat. First thing I should cover is that the SNES version of Dragon Quest V has never been localized to English. Dragon Quests IV through VI eventually got DS remakes that were released in the US, but I'm sticking with the original version of every game, so that means either rolling with a Japanese version or finding a fan translation. I know I talked a big game about playing untranslated games earlier, but these games have gotten a lot more text-heavy in the interrim, so that would probably slow things down a lot. I'm still not ruling out the possibility for future games, but for now, I think this works fine. This does mean that there may be localization choices that aren't consistent with any official localization, so this may be quite interesting, we'll see.

As for the game itself, as you might expect from an early SNES RPG, it's a weird mix of graphical and mechanical improvements paired with weird holdovers from the NES era. I was really hoping that the DOOR/TALK/SEARCH menu items would finally go away, but no, it's still here, and it looks even weirder next to the considerably better SNES graphics. However, with the extra buttons, they've added another button that appears to be a context-sensitive shortcut, so I may be leaning on that a lot instead. Menu navigation on the whole is pretty similar, although our characters have a bigger inventory, and equipment purchasing is even further improved by showing how each item in the shop will change each character's stats. I can't say it's not improved, but we're not really at the point of 'hey, this is a modern RPG now' quite yet. And that's...very weird, actually, because Final Fantasy IV was released the year before this game, and despite also having some weird NES holdovers, the UI is better in almost every way (except purchasing equipment, actually, I have to give DQ5 credit there). In fact, I don't know if Final Fantasy has *ever* had anything like Dragon Quest's clunky menu-driven interaction system, so it's very weird that it's lasted, in some form, for five games. But it's not like I haven't acclimated to it by now, so it's not a big deal.

So what is Dragon Quest V about? Well, it opens with our hero's birth. We see our papa...named Papas...and our mother, whose name I forget, celebrating the baby's birth and fretting over a name. As you might guess, they just happen to settle on a name I picked (Papas initially complains that it sounds 'too feminine', which is weirdly on the nose) and then the mother dies. So, uh...well that's kind of a downer to open on. In any case, our gender is fixed in this game (male, as you might guess) but I can't complain too much, since this one is probably going to be even plot-heavier than in the past. I think our character even talks. But it's a good thing, then, that SEN is a gender-ambiguous name. And no, I'm never going to stop using allcaps.

So, skip ahead to when SEN is a young adult...haha, just kidding, you're six. Apparently, Papas is a bit of a wanderer, but we're on a boat just about to make port in his hometown of Santa Rosa. Here on the ship we're going to get acquainted with one of the big changes in Dragon Quest V. At least here in the early game, you're pretty hemmed in, and the game expects you to talk to NPCs in the area in order to advance the plot. A far cry from the wide-open world of Dragon Warrior, but it's little surprise, since each game up to this point has taken little steps in this direction. And our character is, after all, six. Once we reach the dock, Papas immediately busies himself talking to some guy, so of course we wander off and immediately get into an encounter with some slimes. After a couple turns of feeble swings at the monsters, Papas steps in to protect us, taking out the slimes easily with blows upwards of 70 damage. So okay, he's pretty tough. He heals us, and we walk the short distance from the dock to Santa Rosa. This is a scripted sequence where Papas leads the way, but there are still random encounters like normal (okay, they're probably scripted, but it gives the appearance of random encounters). Papas handles the monsters with ease, and we head into town.

Here Papas bumps into the wife of his friend who runs an inn in the nearby town of Alcapa. Apparently, he has fallen ill, and his wife came here to get medicine. And we meet her daughter Bianca, who quickly gets bored of listening to the adults talk, and goes upstairs with us to pass the time. Being two years older, she's able to read, a little, so she takes out a book to read to us. It doesn't take her long to give up, though, complaining that the words are too difficult. It's not long before Bianca's mother comes to pick her up, and then it's just us and Papas again.

Papas seems to be a bit of an inattentive father, to be honest. He's busy with grown-up stuff, and we're left to our own devices. You can wander around town and talk to people, and find out that a man who went to find the medicine has gone into the nearby cave and hasn't come out, or you can, like me, just find the cave and decide this is an excellent idea without finding out why you should go there. There's a guard keeping six year old children from wandering out of town, but the cave is unguarded -- well, no, that's not true, there is a guard by the cave entrance, but he merely warns you that going into the cave is a bad idea and it's not his fault if you get lost. I know we're an RPG hero, but I want you to consider for a moment that by all reasonable standards, this adult human just stands there and watches as a literal six year old wanders to his likely death. Oh well. It would've been inconvenient if he'd stopped us. Don't let the fact that we're six years old give you the idea that we won't be fighting slimes, bats, and moles, or buying weapons and armor at the local shops. It's much funnier to instead picture our hero beating monsters to death with a stick using his tiny baby arms.

At the bottom of the dungeon we find the man trapped under the rock, and give him a hand. So, uh, probably good that someone came down here eventually. That done, Bianca and her mother are ready to return to Alcapa. Papas doesn't like the idea of them traveling on their own, though, so the four of us set out together. Once the medicine is delivered, Papas seems anxious to leave, but it seems that Papas's friends wants him to stay awhile and he, relucantly, agreed. I get the impression that Papas is concerned with...something. Something that's keeping him from his family and friends. But it's too early to say what it is, really. I'll admit, it reminds me of my time playing Taloon in Dragon Warrior IV, getting up in the morning and leaving his family every day to go stab monsters, except this time I'm the child instead. Did Taloon's kid understand why he left for so long, or why they eventually uprooted their lives to move to the much bigger and busier city of Endor? There's no telling, I suppose.

Alcapa is pretty similar to Santa Rosa, although it has a nicer shop and no dangerous open cave for children to wander into. Here, we spend more time with Bianca, and if we chat around a bit, we find a couple more kids tormenting a cat, presumably for no other reason than that they're assholes with nothing better to do. We try to intervene, and they tell us they'll let the cat go if we go fight ghosts in the haunted castle to the north. Okay. This seems a little artificial, especially since, if we're strong enough to do that, we're strong enough to deal with these little shits, but the quest is clear, so that's what we gotta do. We can only leave town at night when the guard is asleep, but that's no big deal, since the shops and everything are still open.

Bianca starts out at level 1 with pretty pitiful equipment, so the first thing I do is grind -- mostly for gold, but I get some decent levels in the process. This game introduces an interesting new feature -- weapons that can hit multiple enemies. I get a boomerang for myself, which can hit every enemy, and a thorn whip for Bianca, which can hit a single enemy group. The downside is that they do less damage to each consecutive enemy, but it's still a huge benefit, reducing large enemy groups to nothing in one or two strikes.

With that done, we head north to Lenoire Castle. I think one purpose of this dungeon is to show off a lot of the new event scripting stuff, kinda like Taloon's chapter in Dragon Warrior IV. This place is pretty damn haunted, with object moving around, doors opening on their own, and, uh, also there's ghosts everywhere trying to kill us. That's, I guess, the biggest hint probably. But it's also clear that they wanted to show off what this new engine can do. Along the way, we meet the ghosts of the former king and queen of the castle, who are apparently being hassled by bad ghosts. Eventually we meet the boss of the bad ghosts, called...Boss Ghost...and he's pretty tough. Bianca drops in this fight, which kinda sucks, but I get through it. Oh, and offensive spells and attacks are finally animated, which is a touch that has been sorely missing until now (our characters don't appear on-screen, so naturally, anything that targets them is not animated). With that done, the good ghosts are at peace, and we get...oh no. A Gold Orb. I mean, okay, we don't know what it's for yet, but I'm wary of generic macguffins at this point.

We hang onto the orb and head back to Alcapa. The shitty kids let us have the cat, and it joins our party...uh, apparently it's a baby panther, which raises a lot of questions about why it's tame and in town. But whatever. Bianca names it Borongo. I think we can rename it if we want, but I decide not to. Papas leads us back home, and we leave Bianca behind, but Borongo sticks with us. Back in Santa Rosa, there doesn't seem to be much going on at first. A lot of townsfolk are complaining about random little objects going missing, which sounds significant. Eventually, if we poke around, we see what appears to be a ghost. The ghost is surprised we can see her, and she says she's been messing with people in order to try and get their attention. Apparently she's really an elf, visiting the human world through some kind of, spirit projection I guess? She leads us to the basement of our home where nobody else is around, and says that the world of elves needs help, and we need to go there right away. Um...so everything I know about fantasy tells me that when an elf tells a very small child to go to their world with them, it's a pretty bad idea. But this isn't really that sort of story, and we don't really have a choice, so off we go.

In the world of elves, we're told that a magical flute has been stolen, and we need to get it back, because they need it to change the seasons, so the human world will fall into eternal winter without it. That sounds pretty bad. The elves have a lot of confidence that a six year old child and his cat can fix this problem, but to be fair, we've got a surprisingly good track record up to this point.

Well, that's all for now. I guess I was right to start writing a new post now, because this turned out to be pretty long anyway. I guess these posts might end up getting a lot more frequent to keep up with the plot, so stay tuned!

[the-voice-of-hell]

Rent is Theft, part 18

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here.  Note:  My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not.  If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

                                                        ***

      I heard the soft sound of another glass door opening behind me.  The tall doors were of frosted glass indistinguishable from the walls but for etched stainless steel handles and hinges.  Perhaps they were held shut with magnets because there was no noise from a latch opening, just a hollow pop and slight vibration of air as the door swung.  I only heard it because I wasn’t walking at the moment, and I turned to see it.

      A lady with a corporate version of rockabilly style flashed whitened teeth at me, her face framed in big phony burgundy hair, and waved me in.  “Ms. Marquez,” she said, “I should have had the door open for you when you walked by, I’m silly.  Easy to forget what this must look like for visitors.”  She flapped a hand at the sterile hall, then turned it into another beckoning gesture.

      Time for me to mirror her pleasant falsity with a smile of my own.  Her teeth were ringed with candy apple red lipstick, mine with an eccentric but unobtrusive matte rose.  We shook hands and went into her office.  There was mustard yellow plaster on the wall up to about six feet, above which the exposed brick resumed.  Her framed diploma from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago hung there between meaningless matted black and white photos of parts of classic cars.  A curvy wheel hub, a tail fin.

      I sat on a low stool that felt like a sawed-off version of something from Johnny Rockets.  I sat my purse on the floor, folded my hands on a knee, and tried to engage her face.  “You have me at a disadvantage.”

      “Ah, sorry.  No name on the door because we just moved in.  I’m Diana Whitford, human resources coordinator.  Pleased to meet you.”

      “Likewise.  Does the Selman Design Group have a lot of human resources?”

      “You got me.  Small building gave it away?  I’m the whole department.  Also assistant CFO.”

      “Nice.”  I gestured at her fancy little office.  “It looks nice.”

      “It is!  Not so much for decor, right?  Just a lil’ fishbowl under the bricks where we work, but it helps keep us focused.  The meeting rooms are much nicer, and there are so many amazing restaurants around here for lunches.  And the art museum...  It’s a good neighborhood to work in.”

      “I know.  I’d love the job.  What can I say to make you love me for it?”

      “Haha, can’t give it away so easy, can I?”

      “Shoot.  Thought I had you on the ropes.  So,” I nodded coquettishly, “I’m ready.”

      She leaned back and cocked her head, considered me.  I didn’t love it.  She asked, “Alright.  Tell me about yourself.  What makes Courtney Marquez who she is?  I bet that’s interesting.”

      “Mm, I don’t like to settle for ordinary.  I’ve been working in tech for a long time now, and felt it’s time for a change of scenery.”  Sound rich, baby.  “The boys are so drab and provincial.  A graphic design firm, now that’s interesting.”

      “And what interests you about Selman Design Group?”

      “The code we worked on was for purely functional purposes - moving cloud data around, secure networks, server switching in massive arrays.  Here you are dealing with all kinds of businesses, right?  And at a level where the clients are going to be interesting people, cosmopolitan.  I feel it would just make for a nicer atmosphere.”

      “I can hardly imagine.  I’ve had some friends marry tech guys but they are in a whole other world.”

      “It’s not really that interesting.  The other world.  Smells like energy drinks and sweat.”  Play to stereotypes, Courtney.

      “Hohoho,” she said, “But we sweat too sometimes.  How do you handle a challenging day?”

      “When I read this job posting, I imagined it would be coding UI, animation, things to assist with graphic design.  Those were the prerequisite skills listed, right?  But here I am with the human resources assistant CFO and I can tell this is a company where you have to wear a lot of hats.  That’s the kind of challenging day I’m confident I can handle - a little tech support here, a project pushing deadline there.”

      “You don’t have any weaknesses, as a worker?”

      I hate these things a lot.  “None, hahaha.  Of course, I’ve just come from the world of maladjusted boy genius types.  Getting used to a different workplace vibe, it might not be a perfectly smooth transition.  But I promise not to crush cans on my head and play noisy videogames on break.”

      “OK.  But what’s a challenging situation you’ve had in the past, and how did you handle it?”

      I cleaned my ass and walked through the door to have this horrible dance while a dozen people are depending on me to keep our asses off the streets.  “There was a new handshake system we’d been developing functions for, a few months at least, when hackers discovered an exploit in it, rendering the whole system a massive liability overnight.  The biggest stress was for the sysadmins at companies using it, but there was talk around the office our company might have to declare bankruptcy, dump us all to cover debt from damage control.  It had us working under a lot of uncertainty, right when housing prices were shooting up all around the city.”

      “Like, two years ago?”

      “Another time they were going up, about seven years before that?  So it’s work quick and come up with genius solutions while you could end up homeless at a moment’s notice.  We really used all of our team skills on that one.  And that was me.  The genius stuff was for enfants terribles and people like me would try to make their solutions workable in practical space, documenting the code, translating it for other people in the pipeline.  I probably cried in the bathroom at least once?  But we got through it.”  Pathos, girl.  But not too much.

      “Wow.  That sounds like a hard time.”

      “Hard times come and go.  That one is gone.  But lessons learned?”

      “I can’t imagine.  Well, just one more thing.  What kind of compensation would you be expecting here?”

      “Better than a grad but worse than I was making, I’m sure.  I understand I’m starting over, but I am bringing a competency of experience you won’t see in a new kid.  I could go as low as forty-five, if it’s strictly necessary.”

      The fake rockabilly’s eyebrows moved.  What did it mean?  Don’t let them know you care.

      “Thank you, Courtney.  Now do you have anything you’d like to know from me?”

      “Do you have anybody here doing tech support at all, or would that become part of the job description?”

      “You got me.  We did not include IT in the listing, but you know we’ll be asking for it.”

      “I’m OK with that, Diana.”

                                                        ***

      I got out as fast as I could without making it too obvious.  I did not like how that went.  Usually I’ve done better.  Maybe the head wrap was making me lightheaded.  I found a metal pole to lean on, tried to slow my breathing.

      It didn’t help that this was not far from Walter’s stomping grounds, but I had to make myself stop worrying about that.  The late morning sun was bright white, the shadows electric blue.  Every scrap of garbage, eggshell, feathers, plastic, paper was clearly visible in the cement, joining its constituent stones like the skin of an endless lizard.  People walked around me.

      I finally shook it off, put on my sunglasses, and strolled.  Knobby had eluded me long enough.  The full moon was going to happen that night.  If he and Olivia were out walking the streets every day, when did he have time to be taking shits in front of old ladies?  I was going to catch his ass.  If I could cure his werewolfism, maybe anything was possible.  Cures for twisty hair and headmouth, why not?

      I switched from pumps to sneakers and walked back to the Myrmidon Apartments with purpose.  I was getting used to walking, even with the uphill-downhill of it, and if one picked the right streets, this route was mostly downhill.  I was on the block, eyes open for the off chance of seeing those kids on the street, and peered into the window of the Subway behind the building.  I didn’t see the kids, but I did see a lone sub-muncher in the uniform of the pest control company that was investigating the bed bug situation.

      I stepped in.  The people at the counter really didn’t care about short stay loiterers - lots of things to do in keeping an urban fast food joint from exploding.  I went confidently to his table and looked down with arms folded over my chest.

      “Hey, young fella.  Don’t worry, I’m not a cougar or a hooker.  Just a resident of the Myrmidon.”

      “I really shouldn’t talk to residents, ma’am.”

      “Don’t worry about it, kid.  I’m cool.  It’s not my apartment that’s getting sussed out, and not my problem.  I’m just curious about how this works, in case it becomes a problem for me.  Down the road.”

      “Hmm.”

      We had a moment, me smiling, trying to convey a sense of fun-loving criminality, speak to the young man inside the professional.  He pondered it for a moment, then assented.  “OK.”

      I sat down across the table from him.  “Alright.  So this is the new reality, they’re saying.  All the DDT that squished those bald eagle eggs wore off, bed bugs are moving back into the cities.  What all have you heard about that?”

      “Not a lot, honestly.  There’s the experts and then there’s guys like me who just move shit around, work the tools.  What was that about eagles?”

      “I don’t know much either, but somebody told me there’s this pesticide we used to spray on crops, but also indoors.  It made eagle eggshells thin so that when momma tried to incubate them, squish.  Bald eagles became an endangered species and the stuff was banned.  According to the guy I talked to...”

      “That’s why nobody had bed bugs until last year.  What a trip.”

      “Well what do you know about them?  Has to be something.”

      “Heh.  Now this is hella gross.  I heard the females don’t have a...  well, they don’t have a vag.  So to get inseminated, basically, the males got a gnarly spike for a dick, and just stab ’em with it.  Is that too much?”

      “Hahaha, no, that is horrible.  Thanks!”

      “A way to keep ’em out of your bed is to keep your bedding from reaching the floor and put the feet of your bed inside, like, a ring of laundry detergent.”

      “Nice, nice.  So what’s in store for my unfortunate upstair biddies?”

      “Our company is high end, so... uh...”

      “Promise, I’m cool.  You can tell me anything.”

      “Basically, everybody we deal with is insured out the ass, so we come up with services just to charge more money.  It isn’t a total scam, right?  The services do something.  But is every last one of ’em necessary?”

      “So you’re gonna milk this thing?  Hell, everything in this town is so fucking expensive, that doesn’t bother me at all.  Do it to it.  But that isn’t the reason you told me, is it?”

      “OK, we basically already know there are bed bugs.  Boss man stabbed her bed with a bowie knife and found black dots - like digested blood.”

      “Euggh.”

      “I know.  But we’ll be like, this is suggestive but it isn’t a clincher, and run another test.”

      “A more expensive one.”

      “You got it.  And man, it is the real trip.  We bring in a trained animal to sniff ’em out.”

      “Is it an expensive dog breed?”

      He was smirking and enjoying this too much.  “Not a dog.”

      “Aardvark?”  I remembered what Grime had told me about the animal, but didn't want to ruin the boy's fun.

      “A pig.”  His expression dimmed a bit.  “But now that you say that, I wish it was an aardvark.  That sounds fun.”

      “No, no, that’s pretty fucking funny.  You’re literally gonna get these apartments to pay them to have a potbelly piggy running through the halls.”

      “Oh it ain’t no potbelly, ma’am.  It’s one of the big boys.”

      “What do they call that, a boar?”

      “Yup.  A male pig, big as fuck.  Maybe you’ll get to see it.  It’s like three feet at the top and I swear at least five hundred pounds.”

      “No shit?”

      “No shit.”

      “Well, here’s hopin’ those sons of bitches stay upstairs.”

      “Uh, yeah.  Yeah, for sure.”

      He must have known that wasn’t likely to happen.  Shit.  “So the boar confirms what you already know.  Then what?”

      “That’s our part.  We help the lady treat and isolate everything in her apartment.  Anything that can’t take the heat is moved out.  The sprinkler heads are packed in coolant, and then we heat the place to a hundred twenty-five degrees for three hours.”

      “Holy shit.  Big space heaters?”

      “Custom, industrial motherfuckers.  It’s pretty cool stuff.  No poison involved.”

      “Except the laundry detergent.”

      “The laundry detergent?  Oh yeah, the laundry detergent.  We don’t tell most of our customers about that one.”

      “Because they’ll be more likely to get reinfested.  Sharp.”

      “You never know when they’ll bring that pesticide back and put us out of a job, right?”

      “Well thanks, man.  That was a real thrill ride.”  I shot him a finger gun and stood up.

      “Hey, ah...  You don’t have to go so fast..?”

      “Heh.  Charmed, but I do have to get going.  Enjoy your sandwich, son.”

      “Yes ma’am.”

                                                        ***

      I made a mental note to line the baseboards with borax at the earliest opportunity.  I was getting a mental picture of the shit.  They boil the granny floor and fleeing bed bugs come down through the walls, end up on our floor.

      I decided to take the stairs up, and at each floor get out and walk the hall.  If Knobby was doing his doggy deeds, I’d catch him.  I tried to listen for sounds in the stairwell, in the halls, but the exertion made my pulse pound in my ears.  Not terribly, but enough to mute the quiet noises of the world.

      The first ten floors had a different layout from ours - a little bit larger, with more variable apartment sizes.  The smallest ones were even smaller than ours, judging by the distance between doors, and the largest might have been larger.  On the tenth floor, another variation - a gym I had never used.

      I used my prox key and got in.  A redundant nuisance - anybody on this floor had already badged in downstairs, or been badged in by somebody else.  Did they want to keep visitors out of the precious fitness center?

      The outer walls were surely floor-to-ceiling glass, like on ours, but they were masked completely by drawn vertical blinds.  Interior lights were weak in competition with the daylight that gave the blinds an unappealing amber glow, the room washing out to a dim grey-green.

      Still easy enough to see by, and I found myself looking at myself.  One of the inner walls was pure mirror.  Watch your beach bod take shape while you ride the stationary bikes.  Or stand alone and watch yourself fade in real time.  All the dolling up I did for the interview was coming apart, and the shadows added ten years to my face.

      Even with the wrap clamped down on my head, I had forgotten it was visible.  It changed me, made my reflection alien.  And remembering this, I remembered Reverse Courtney was waiting under that grip for any chance to rat us out.  I touched the back of my head and felt her shift underneath the cloth.

      Get out.  No way Knobby was in there anyway.  As I stepped away, I noticed the floor beneath my feet was raised and discolored.  No allergy medicine here.  Get out.

      The eleventh floor was, to my knowledge, one of several completely unoccupied ones.  On seeing no Knobby, it occurred to me that if the monster in him had the same motivation as Reverse Courtney, he would only visit floors with people on them.

      Our floor.  The ritual wasn’t really complete yet.  I had prepared my potions and talismans and such, but I still needed to set up the magic circle.  It was far from midnight, so time remained, but who knew how long it would take to catch the boy?

      I realized we needed to talk to everyone at once.  Patrick and Graeme would be at work, probably, and Deandre and the kids probably out and about.  Still, better to get as many people as possible on the same page as early as possible.  I started knocking on doors.

      Patrick was indeed at work, and I decided to leave Perry alone.  With that and less anybody out on the town, I was only able to convene Mike, Momi, and Marcie, in her apartment.  Mike looked lively, but greener than ever.

      The three sat on the couch and I sat across from it.

      “What’s this about, Courtney?”  Mike was the only one with no prior knowledge, that I knew of.

      “Marcie and Leimomi already know some of this, but not all of it.  Like the allergy situation, it’s important for all of us to know.  Mike, have you noticed that you’re not looking... well?”

      “The green?  Yeah, and I’ve seen that Knobby kid hunchbacked, and his girl’s neck go weird.”

      “So you have an idea what this is about.  I think the building is trying to make us lose control of ourselves, make us get ourselves caught.  I have a mouth on the back of my head that has basically said as much to me.”

      “Does Leimomi have a head mouth too?”

      “No,” she said.

      “Let me get to the point.  The neighbors talked about seeing a dog, or a dog-like man, in the halls on their floors - causing trouble.  It has to be one of us.  We know what our problems are, and Knobby is already hunched over, so safe bet it’s him.  And I have a plan.”

      Mike smiled, green hands on his knees.  “Great!  And here I was worried.  You’re so good, Courtney.”

      Marcie said, “What are you going to do, Courtney?”

      “Ehh, I don’t...”  Maybe they’d feel better if I didn’t express my doubts.  “Sorry.  Remember how wearing the allergy pill necklace was helpful?  It’s kinda like that.  I’m setting up a thing...  OK, a magic spell.  In my room.  We get Knobby inside the magic circle and do an exorcism.”

      “The power of Christ compels you!  Haha,” Mike said, “I can do that.”

      Marcie nodded in admiration.  Momi knew what I was thinking, gave me a sensitive smile.

      “Yeah, so here’s the deal.  We all do our best to find that kid, get him and everybody else in my apartment by midnight.  I’ll write up everybody’s instructions for the spell.  You’ll have to read some words, do some things.”

      “Any of that cool shit from Exorcist in there?,” Mike asked.

      “No but there may be some room for improv.  Just make sure you do the spell right first.

        And in the meantime...”

      “We’ll try to find Knobby.”

      “Richie’s been trying,” Marcie said.

      “Unless he has a hot lead, call him home,” I said.  “It’s a full moon, and if I’m right - that the werewolf is trying to get us in trouble here - he’ll be in the building somewhere.”

      Momi said, “Oh good, I didn’t wanna run around town anyways.  Should we start looking now?”

      “Eat lunch first, get plenty of water.  For my part, I’m gonna turn my apartment into a magic circle.”

                                                        ***

      In my initial pass at the exorcism material in Werwolves, I didn’t notice the shin-kicking ritual involved some worse tortures besides.  We weren’t going to whip him until he was drenched in blood.  I did my best to come up with ways to symbolically accomplish anything I was unable or unwilling to do in the prescribed method.  For example, where it called for whipping the “werwolf” I thought we could just give him a few whacks and then cover him in some kind of blood.  Unsanitary, but not torture.  I’d paid for blood from a butcher, because there’s no good way to shoplift it, and sanitized it by boiling.  That made a blood pudding which I intended to reliquefy when we got closer to midnight.  Grody.

      Another thing I couldn’t do was follow hyper-specific astrological instructions.  OK, I might be able to sync the ritual to a night of the full moon, but learning enough about astronomy or astrology to even know when Mercury was seventeen degrees on the cusp of the Seventh House?  Not happening.  The text said Mercury was the “most bitter opponent of evil spirits,” so I thought, hang some liquid mercury from the ceiling above our boy.  I poured my mercury into an emptied bottle of some micro-brew with a white stag on it, to honor St. Hubert.

                                                        ***

   Read next chapter here.

[knownunknownn]

he called himself an...eboy? an eboy. imagine wanting to be an eboy. he only wore black and never did his hair. i mean... he didn’t really have to do his hair because it was perfect the way it was but still. he never showed his body off... but he would tease us. fucking weirdo. or maybe i’m a weirdo for falling in love with a boy i follow on instagram.

yesterday he posted a body shot. he wore a black graphic tee-shirt tucked into black skinny jeans with chains hanging off of every loop. he had a thick silver chain around his neck. his face wasn’t even showing but let me tell you.. he was hot. the veins on his arms were protruding. they shone slightly blue under his pale skin. his knuckles were pink and his hand tattoos were slightly out of view.

he didn’t have many tattoos.. or atleast he didn’t show us many tattoos. we’d only seen about 5. one on each of his hands... one on his forearm... one behind his ear... one inside of his lip. but apparently he had more.

he didn’t date. he always talked about how lonely he was, or how empty it felt living by himself. he never took pictures of his house but he took pictures of himself around his house. from what i’d seen... it wasn’t too bad.

he didn’t work, and he’s just dropped out of college. he said that he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to do in life so instead of paying the government thousands of dollars, he’d rather take the time off to find what he loves. he found music. now, he wasn’t an musical genius or anything but... he was pretty talented. he already knew how to play piano but he’d learned drums earlier in the year. he learned how to produce beats and mix tracks and how to compose songs. there was a time when he posted covers but he makes his own music now.

he said he’s been having trouble writing lyrics recently. he said that he’s been feeling numb and he doesn’t know why he can’t express himself anymore. he said maybe music wasn’t for him but everyone reassured him that he was amazing and his music was incredible.

he said he was feeling unmotivated. “life is really sucky right now... i don’t know what to do.” he said that he might log off of all social media account for a while. but he’d be back.

he did come back... eventually. he was slightly different from before. happier. livelier. he said he’d met this girl that made him feel things again. i wasn’t too happy about that but... i was glad that he was feeling better. his happiness was all that mattered to me.

i’d met him before. a few times actually. we’d exchanged words. not many words but words nonetheless. he didn’t know that i was such a huge fan. he also didn’t know that i’d began revolving my whole world around him. but then again... he didn’t exactly need to know that.

he said he didn’t have many friends. that he couldn’t keep friendships well. i wanted to change that. i just wanted to talk to him about anything and everything. maybe beat his ass at a game of mario kart. but he made it very hard for anyone to get close to him. and anyways... i was just a fan.

he wasn’t famous by any means. but according to this society, having 739K followers makes you pretty damn popular. he said he hated the numbers. it only made people act fake towards him. i understood what he meant.

he followed me the other day. i don’t think he recognized me though. good. i wouldn’t want him thinking i was a weird fangirl. that would crush all of my chances on getting to know him.

he posted a picture of a manicured hand pulling his shirt up today. it was the first time we’d ever seen his abs. and boy do i mean abs. i was less focused on the abs (there’s a first time for everything) and more focused on the girls hand. long, red acrylic nails. who the fuck is that.

i got a dm today. and when i opened it... i screamed. “i really like your content... i want to learn to play the electric guitar so much. maybe you could teach me? do you make tutorials?” i think i was in a state of shock. i answered immediately.

“ohmygod thank youuuuu, and no i don’t make tutorials but i could of you want? and you’re so cool too wtf!! if i help you learn to play the guitar you HAVE to teach me how to use beat pads.” he didn’t respond for two days. i waited by my phone the entire time. it’s crazy how whipped i am for a boy that doesn’t even know me.

“yesss deal. i’m so fucking excited. do you live on the east coast?” ohmyGOD. did he want to meet up? i thought this was going to be an over-the-phone kind of thing.

“yeah i do! i live in Atlanta... you?” i chewed my nails. of course i knew he lived here, why was this so damn nerve wracking. “oh fuck same. we gotta meet up. i wanna learn ASAP” fuck. fuck. fuck.

“oh lit! okay we’ll talk soon then. when are you available?” the conversation went on like that. he told me he was technically always available.. just to give him a day and a time. he told me we could meet at his house or somewhere else. but all of his equipment would be at his house. i told him we could probably do it this weekend but i would have to check my schedule.

“woah woah woah. before i invite you into my house um what’s your name and how old are you??” i completely forgot that he doesn’t know ANYTHING about me.

“ohh lol i’m Jia and i’m 18” my name wasn’t jia. that was more of a... stage name. but he didn’t need to know that. i also wasn’t 18. i was turning 17 in December but.. he didn’t need to know that either.

i felt bad. the minute i hit send i felt like a liar. i don’t usually lie to people about my age or name but i didn’t want him to judge me or treat me like a child.

“Well hello there Jia. i’m Uley (but you already knew that) and i’m 23.” hes t w e n t y t h r e e ? his body screamed ‘adult’ but his face screamed ‘baby boy’. i thought he was 19... at most. his fluffy hair and dimpley smile didn’t help. fuck.

“How come i haven’t seen you around before Jia?” how am i supposed to respond to that?? ‘Um maybe because my parents are over-protective bible bangers and only allow me to leave the house to go to church or group therapy—‘ but instead i settled on, “what do you mean?”

“Oh not to be creepy or anything it’s just that a lot of people i know follow you.. i’m trying to figure out why you’re just now showing up on my recommended lol” oh. that makes more sense.

“i don’t know... i don’t talk to many people online haha” that was another lie. i only had online friends. they seemed much nicer than the people outside of my front door.

“me neither. people are assholes.”

we talked for 4 hours that day. he kept asking me when i’d be able to meet up but i kept reassuring him that i’d let him know by the weekend. i had to find some way to get out of this house.

[deltastorm101]

Meet the JSE community

I’m FINALLY joining this event @no-strings-puppet created a prompt list for! Wanted to do it for ages but completely forgot, oops… Here we goooo!

1. Name, age, country:   Stef, 16 (edit: now 17 haha), Germany.

2. Appearance: I don't want to post a picture of me yet. I could draw me, but I’m not that motivated at the moment. I can describe myself. Well… I look older than I actually am, at least everyone says that and I don't get asked for my ID when I buy beer so, heh. I'm 1.70m/5'7 tall, so average I guess. I'm not the skinniest person but not overweight either. I have short hair - the best way to describe it: I have Jack’s haircut :D My natural hair colour is dark brown, almost black, but I like to try shit out: It was blue, turquoise, green, yellow, blonde and red before. Right now, the red faded to a light orange. Which I'm fine with, the crazier the better xD The next thing I'll try is purple! I usually dress black or dark in general, maybe slightly punk/goth at times... I do NOT use make-up though. Hate it. Always hated it. Will forever hate it. (Maybe one day I’ll be confident enough to post a picture…)

3. Hobbies: Games, write fics, draw (traditional), read books, scuba diving, listen to music (electro or metal), think (yes, that's a hobby for me), sleep and dream, watch movies (horror), watch youtube (Jack)

4. What’s your dream job? I'd love to be a psychologist one day, hence the 'hobby' thinking. Or a graphic designer. Or a dentist. Or a teacher. But anything psychology related would be really super cool. Make it happen, universe.

5. What kind of shit would we find in your bag? Phone, rubik’s cube, usb stick, wallet, headphones, keys. I hate bags though. Backpacks are much nicer.

6. How would you describe your personality? Hm… Calm and quiet, pretty shy and introverted at times but I can talk a lot if required. So – ambivert I guess? Will need to recharge after being around people. Bad at making the first step. Night worker. Dirty jokes - all the dirty jokes. Wants to do so much shit but ends up doing nothing. Trying to think positive, smiles and laughs a lot but once I cry I can’t ever stop again. Can get lost in dark thoughts very easily. Will scream at you in case I didn’t down enough coffee. INFJ.

7. When did you find Jack's channel? Around March/April 2017. Generation yellow floof. I’m so sad I didn’t discover him earlier! (Finding out and researching everything about Anti… it took me some months.)

8. Put in order your top 3 favourite Egos! ANTI (of course), Chase (mah duuuude), Schneep (he’s alive btw) and Marvin (yes, I know that’s 4, but Marvin is a sweetheart)

9. Favourite/ most nostalgic video/series of Jack’s to watch? Undertale (oh man, just a good time), Outlast 2 (not ‘nostalgic’ but one of my favourite series), RYC in general (we get to know Jack so much better), ANTI (not a series but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN)

10. Would you describe yourself as an active or quiet member of the community?  Pretty active. Writing theories and observations during a storm and reblogging a lot during peaceful times. And of course, the fics. Ohoo THE FICS. Writing is life. But pain. I love it. And even when I’m not posting... I’m constantly watching everything. Not an hour without tumblr goes by :D

BONUS: 11. Favourite Anti moment(s):

“IF YOU WANT HIM BACK SO BADLY, THEN WHY DON’T YOU SAVE HIM?!”

I am IN LOVE with this moment. This expression of pure rage and fury, lashing out at the audience and screaming with anger. Gives me chills every time.

OR:

“Laughter is the best medicine… for death!”

Simply because that was the beginning of something... great. He showed himself again after a long, long time... Oh, the nostalgia! (I was still new to the community at that time. I was still doing my research about Anti to properly know what I’m talking about when I’d finally start being active here... Let’s just say I was exuberant that day.)

So yeah... Hello! It’s me!

[mcalhenwrites]

My Goals

A lot of people are talking about writing goals. Mine extends to crochet, too, and even some drawing. So here’s a list! 1. drawing more ignoct. I want to draw more in general, but they’re the reason I started up again. this is a hobby for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get better. I hope I can get another graphics tablet soon, as well as a scanner for my sketches. 2. I made it a goal to publish SGH this year. It was meant to happen last year, but my confidence killed it. this year, I’ll let it out into the world and move on. 3. crochet: Noctis Lucis Caelum (Iggy needs his boyfriend/husband!) 4. crochet other FF/FFXV related items like Lil Malbuddy, a tonberry, a cactuar 5. sell some chocobos alongside SGH copies  6. I’m doing another giveaway this spring, alongside a spring sale. I’ll probably make another chocobo for that! I need to start making the dumplings for it! My goal is 3 items a week, so that when March rolls around, I have a lot of stock!

7. And then do the same thing only bigger for Halloween, with a sale going alongside another giveaway. (And maybe I can do a black and orange chocobo set?) 8. Finish the draft for THC, another original story I’m working on. 9. Write at least one thing per day for ignoctweek and post it. I’ll probably write more than one thing and scrap a lot, knowing me. (I have done that for all weeks I’ve participated in. I write more than I share.) 10. Finish up some of my multichaptered fics. I have more in the works, so I would like to get to others.   Fire to the Skin will likely take a long time for me to write, because everything I have planned for it continues to get bigger. It was meant to be full of angst, healing, and humor to begin with, but now it has gotten hopeful as well. Some fics I’d like to finish:  no one to dry your eyes at midnight (spanko ignoct fic that is two chapters from being complete) The Harmonixer (Shadow Hearts elements in FFXV world, ignoct) The Tiny Courageous (prequel to Travelers of the Sky, which won’t likely be finished in a year) The Illustrious Master Izunia (inventor Prompto AU) 11. Fics I’d like to start: ignoct Loveless AU Teacher OT4 AU, where the chocobros all live together and work at the same school - I’m thanking Cats for this one ;) 12. I want to write freely. no one to dry your eyes at midnight was a start to this, and I’ve found a circle of FFXV’s fandom that has been openly writing and drawing what they want to. Plus there’s been so much support for me. I’m coming back out of the shell finally. (I actually got out of my shell once before, but this site’s toxicity put me back in for a bit.) 13. I want to be kinder to myself and to others. I think I need to work on being nicer to myself as well, if only because it seems to be a kindness to my friends as well. This includes taking care of my health, taking breaks when I need them and not scolding myself over it. I’ve started this, and I think I’m slowly making progress. 14. I’ve made my goodreads reading goal 50 books! (New books, and of course fics don’t count haha) 15. Opening up in general. Learning to be the one who approaches people in DMs or something. Maybe trying to join another discord? So yeah, I’m sure I left things off, but hopefully... Hopefully I do this. I’m going to work hard!

[ddrkirbyisq]

Quite a bit happened...it was quite the tornado of stuff, as I predicted two posts ago, what with Ludum Dare and everything else happening.  There was even more than I expected thrown into the mix... Ludum Dare Ludum Dare came and went, and despite several hardships along the way, was a huge success for our team! I'll be writing a more detailed post-mortem later, but here are the two (!) games that we ended up making in the 72 hour timeframe: Goodnight Sheep: http://ift.tt/2AfwKw9 Samurai Shaver: http://ift.tt/2Ai9opD The soundtracks for both of those are also available (linked on those pages). Even before it started, it already felt like things might be rough for Ludum Dare, as our writer fell ill that week and wasn't feeling well enough to work together with us.  We decided she should take it easy and help us out remotely instead (which also left me with an abundance of extra groceries in stock, haha).  I actually also wasn't feeling the best that Friday either, though thankfully I didn't end up coming down with anything.  Trying to communicate back and forth over chat and video calls was a real challenge and we really struggled to nail down the concept and gameplay behind Goodnight Sheep as a result of that. Halfway through finishing up Goodnight Sheep we actually decided to start work on Samurai Shaver and just start making that.  Although there were a lot of things that we still needed to figure out about Samurai Shaver still (initially it wasn't even a rhythm game at all!), I personally felt like I had a pretty good vision of what the game should look and feel like, so it felt more certain to me, and I was looking forward to escaping the uncertainty of the screaming lambs to work on something a little more well understood.  However I still wanted to finish up some work on Goodnight Sheep before that, including making the music for the levels, and it was during that process that I made some key realizations about what the game should be like.  So in the end it all ended up coming together just fine -- it just needed some more time to get there. We were about a third of the way through our 72 hours when we decided to start work on Samurai Shaver, which put us quite far behind, but interestingly enough I felt very confident that we could finish it in time.  I knew it was a fairly simple game and we didn't need to make a ton of different assets and such (as we did for games like The Music Box).  And of course, I had a pretty clear vision for the game, as well.  But perhaps the primary reason that I was so confident was because back in Ludum Dare 36 we had also started just as late when we made Watch for Falling Rocks (we totally scrapped our initial idea and started over).  Now that we've done the whole "start a game really late and still finish fine" thing twice, I feel like that will always be a sort of possible "plan B" for us moving forward if our initial concepts don't work out.  Obviously that's not the kind of thing I'd like to rely on, but I think it's a bit comforting to know that because thinking up an initial idea for a game is often one of the most stressful parts of the jam. Anyhow, I'm quite happy with how both games turned out.  Currently we're a good ways into the rating and voting process, with a little over a week left before results are announced.  I've been playing my fair share of games (around 40 so far), and we've gotten around 30 ratings for each of our games. Meowmie Early in the morning on Saturday December 9th, we were woken up to news that the one and only original Meowmie had suffered from heart problems over the night and wasn't going to make it.  We were able to say our final goodbyes before he was put to rest.  It was very hard on us and there was definitely a bit of a crying party that day.  Though I was not his owner, I felt very deeply for the loss, more deeply than I realized that I would, too.  It was a new experience for me as well, since I have never had a pet or anything leave me in that way.  Though it still makes me very sad to think that Meowmie is not around anymore, and the image I have in my mind of him from that day really affects me deeply, I am very thankful for the fact that I was able to see him one last time.  Rest in peace, Meowmie.  You will always be special.  (Thank you) Work Work went through a pretty busy period, as we were getting out another demo of our game for PlayStation Experience (PSX) -- more about that here.  Btw, as an aside, I don't know if I've ever mentioned here that Luna has been out now, both for VR (the true Luna experience) and as a 2D port version for those of us who don't have access to a VR headset.  Find that here. Anyhow, work went through a busy period for sure and I basically had infinity work to do, but I think I managed alright, though there was one day where I had not gotten enough sleep at all and was suuuuuper grumpy as a result.  Funnily enough, once the amount of tasks crosses a threshold, I feel like it doesn't really matter how many other work items there are because I know I won't get to them all, so I just sort of chug along at whatever pace I end up going at and whatever will be, will be. After that, work has been really strange as we are in the middle of transitioning to a new office (heating?? A/C??  More than one restroom maybe?? what is this madness?  Maybe the floor won't be slanted either?).  The new place is ever so slightly closer in terms of walking distance from the station, but also just in a much nicer area (right across from Dropbox).  I haven't seen it in person yet, but should be exciting to have a nicer office, and I'm sure it will make it easier for my cooking-lunch-at-the-office escapades as well.  Maybe I need to start bringing in a portable burner?? lololol Anyhow, I'm on vacation now for the next two weeks (much needed) and definitely enjoying some time off to myself.  Should be useful to catch up on a bunch of things after that super crazy busy period that I had (haven't done any work on Rhythm Quest; want to still do more for our Ludum Dare games; have some music I need to write, etc), but also just to chill out and relax. Games I went through the bonus content of VA-11 HALL-A, so that's all finished up with (don't think I'll bother replaying the main story again, though there is a bit more to experience there).  I've moved on for now -- I just started playing through Cave Story!  Actually playing the remastered Cave Story+ version since apparently I have it on Steam already, but after some careful thinking I decided I'll go with the original sprites/graphics and original soundtrack.  Well...ah, who are we kidding, it wasn't exactly a tough choice.  I appreciate the fact that they took the time to remaster it and everything, but sometimes the original has a certain appeal that is diluted with additional modifications and I personally feel that way about this.  Though, if I was already familiar with the entire soundtrack (I'm not) I think the new soundtrack would be a nice change of pace, so that is something. Other than that, Finding Paradise (the sequel to To The Moon) is out now!  Haven't gotten it yet, but I'm sure I will be going through it at some point.  I wasn't 100% sure what to expect, but apparently Kan Gao himself says the game is "utterly, disgustingly terrible", so now I know exactly what to expect!  (I'm sure it'll exceed expectations, hooray!)  It's all a bit tongue-in-cheek, but to be honest, perhaps it was really warranted after all, because I went into Rakuen expecting a lot out of it and came out disappointed.  So maybe I'll temper my expectations this time.  Though to be honest, how could you not get hyped after THIS trailer???  Hahaha. Besides that, we are making our way through Secret of Mana still (just finished up Ice Country), and have taken a bit of a break on Life Is Strange (but will pick it up again I'm sure).  My brother also came over and we raced through Mega Man 1 through Mega Man 4, which was a blast.  I had a bunch of problems and lost most of those races but was way ahead for Mega Man 3 (also the one that I played the most as a child), so woot.  Mega Man 5 and 6 will probably be real challenges for both of us as we're really unfamiliar with those -- I think I've only finished each of them once... Started playing a bit of Hollow Knight, but unsure exactly what I'll do with that one as I think I want to actually just go through Cave Story first.  It still looks like quite a fine game, but perhaps not as unique or special. Dance Not too much of note here as dance events are sort of on break for the end of the year.  A little birdie told me that Unjammix might actually be happening again sometime, so that is super duper exciting!  Also, it's getting to be a few months before Viennese Ball again, so probably sometime next month it'll be time to whip out my Journey dress and add on the final layers so I can be a fully-embroidered red cloak.  So cool that this costume has been evolving along with me over the past 4 years!!! The last Jammix of the year was not too notable and actually was pretty low-energy for me, but I did end up connecting with someone unexpectedly, which was quite nice. Anime Was skimping on Inuyasha for a while but finally watched another episode, hahaha.  But more notable than that, I watched "The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl" (by the same director and writer as Tatami Galaxy), which I enjoyed a lot!  I've watched a handful of other things in recent months too actually, including A Silent Voice (good) and most notably, The Case of Hana & Alice, which I really loved!  Quite an unusual movie I think, but it's really good, really fun, really well-done.  Currently also watching Evangelion (the series), which I watched most of before (but not all?) but largely forgot about.  Have not watched any movies recently -- haven't yet gone to go see Coco or Star Wars... Xmas Xmas stuff is coming along well!  Like I keep on saying, I still have some DIY gifts to handle, but other than that, everything is pretty much squared away.  It took a lot of work but all the letters and stuff are mailed out and all the gifts are wrapped (and some shipped).  I still have to go on my Santa delivery runs at some point this week but that should be fine :) Cooking Have been trying to make Shui Zhu Yi recently (the sichuan boiled fish dish) to varying degrees of success...I'm finding it quite a difficult dish to get right since there are so many factors, like type of fish, everything that goes into the liquid, the different spices, etc.  I think I am getting closer, and definitely am learning more about what to do and what to avoid, but I'm not nearly there yet.  We'll see. Melee Melee stuff has been good recently; I've been feeling a lot of confidence as Marth especially when I am doing crazy stuff like getting pivot grabs and stuff like that.  I haven't really paid much attention to my Fox but I am trying to grind out some stuff with Falco because my Falco definitely needs some work on tech and punishes, so trying to get better with that.  I'm feeling increasingly comfortable with Falcon but am still figuring out how to place my aerials to go for reads on techchases and how to place moves correctly to combo well.  Perhaps the most exciting development is that I am finally starting to "get" Sheik for the first time, as I'm dedicating some time to learning her as a character.  Like Falcon, she feels really weird in neutral to me, and I had to adjust to learning how to boost grab instead of jc grab (feels really weird....also really weird that you don't =always= boost grab, so you have to do it situationally), but I think my experience with all the others characters (esp Falcon) is helping me understand it more and I feel like I am starting to get a handle on her, which is great since I've always wanted to learn her as a character.  I'm going to try and work that up to par for a while before moving onto Peach, which will require a lot more grinding of techskill since she's a whole other animal. Overall life is in a pretty good spot right now; it's nice to be on vacation finally and to feel like I'm on top of things now instead of juggling around a million different things at once.