#when i’d post one a few months ago i’d be lucky to get a couple hundred

[rattkachuk]

uh ok maybe we can gatekeep matthew tkachuk a little u guys

[tonycries]

One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit. 

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh? 

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 

But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 

But no matter. 

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[salltybread]

Our Morning Walks

A Connor x GN Reader Oneshot

Summary:

“Can I see you again?” Connor managed to choke out when you were halfway through your door. Your dog slipped into the house, and you unhooked her leash before closing the door behind her and turning around. Connor’s warm brown eyes were darting around, landing everywhere except for you. His friend’s dog, who you learned was named Sumo, slobbered all over his hand which was clutched tightly around the leash. You could have sworn that Connor’s face was turning blue, but it was too dark to tell. 

“I’d like that.”

Notes:

Also posted on:

Wattpad

AO3

Word count:

3,180

Special thanks to my friend for helping me with the development of this!!! <3 you bro!!!

You felt a forceful tug from the leash wrapped around your wrist as your dog dragged you out of the open door. The rough fabric of the leash dug into your wrist as Atlas tugged you down the steps that lead into your house. The crisp morning air of Detroit blew directly into your face the second you exited your house, causing you to shiver. Your hair flew around haphazardly as a chilling gust of wind whisked by.

It was still quite dark outside, but the several inches of snow that fell the night before shimmered beautifully under the moonlight. A dark blue haze lingered over the neighborhood, a stark contrast against the warm yellow street lamps. You were wearing many layers and thick gloves, but you concluded that no amount of clothing could battle the cold that a winter in Detroit brought. The snow crunched loudly under your feet as you trekked along, your thick snow boots protecting your feet from the frigid snow. At least your feet were not that cold. You would probably feel a bit warmer if you had some form of head covering, but your dog, Atlas, chewed up your only beanie earlier that week.

You had only moved to Detroit recently, about a month ago, and you had not adjusted to the colder air yet. You came to Michigan from South Carolina, where it was nearly sweltering most of the time. You arrived in Detroit with only a few coats, hoping you would be alright in the Michigan weather. As soon as you saw the forecast for the week, your jaw practically hit the floor. You ended up having to venture around the city to different stores to get yourself an assortment of clothes suitable for the freezing weather and hefty amounts of snow.

When something unexpected happened, you were forced to move from your apartment in Charleston. Your parents were kind enough to sell you an old house on the outskirts of Detroit at a dirt-cheap price. It was small, but it was better than the very cramped apartment that you used to rent.Your new house had one story with a small living room, an open kitchen, and a bedroom connected to a surprisingly large bathroom. 

The bedroom in your old apartment was not large enough to fit anything more than a twin-sized bed, and it had a broken door connected to a shoddy bathroom. You notified your landlord of the broken door, and he did absolutely nothing about it. You had been lucky enough that the front door worked, so you decided to drop the matter.

Although you had moved into the house almost a month ago, you had not unpacked many of your belongings yet. The only stuff that ended up unsealed was what you used daily or took out of a box and never had the time to put away. Several boxes were scattered around your house since you had yet to unpack them. Some were open, and several remained untouched and sealed with copious amounts of tape. Most containers had half-faded labels made with barely legible Sharpie. You simply did not have enough time to unpack, as you were immediately on the hunt for a job. You found one quickly and immediately began working full-time to refill the hole you put in your wallet several days earlier, when you spent a couple hundred dollars on clothes so you would not freeze to death.

Atlas barked at you, and it shook you from your thoughts. You gazed down at her large, fuzzy face as she stared up at you. Her graying muzzle shoved into your hands, searching for warmth. You did not know what breed she was, since you got her from a shelter that found her as a stray. You got her when she was a year old, and although she was eight years old now, she was still as energetic as ever. Her shaggy tail flopped around in the snow as she sat, caking together onto her long fur. Snow was still falling slowly, and you could see the small flakes landing on her jet-black coat and fading as they melted. She yipped at you again, and you realized you were in the middle of the snow-covered sidewalk, lost in your own head again.

You leaned down and patted Atlas on the head to apologize, feeling her damp fur weave between your fingers. Her ears shifted back as she pressed her head up into your hand. The corners of your mouth lifted when you heard her tail thumping against the pathway. With your arm fully outstretched to pet Atlas, your sleeve shifted back just enough for you to glance down at your watch. It was 4:56 am. You had been standing in that same spot for nearly ten minutes. You were going to be late for the meetup with Connor. Ever since the two of you met, you had walked your dogs together almost every morning. You looked up at the sky, memories of when you first met him flooding into your head.

Your first afternoon in your new house, after you unpacked a bit, you fished around in the cardboard box labeled ‘Atlas’ to find her leash so you could take her out on a walk. It was not in the box, and you spent the rest of the day searching for it. It probably would have just been easier to buy her a new leash. On the third evening of your move-in, you finally found Atlas’ leash in a box filled with miscellaneous items. The box was aptly labeled ‘random shit.’

You originally planned on a short walk around the neighborhood that evening but got lost after about ten minutes of trudging through the snow. Your phone died in your hands when you tried to find directions home. As you wandered mindlessly, the sun began to set, washing the sky in gorgeous hues of orange and deep purple. The old street lamps along the left side of the road flicked on when the sun dipped below the horizon. You trembled as it got colder, your new snow boots rubbing on your heels as you strolled. You exhaled through your mouth, watching as the small cloud of breath vanished into the air.

Atlas spotted a large dog next to somebody on the other side of the street and turned towards them. You felt a soft jerk on your wrist and glanced down at your dog before looking at the other dog and its owner across the street. You took a deep breath, your palms beginning to sweat from under the gloves as you realized what you had to do. You had to speak to a stranger.

“Excuse me!” You called out as you jogged to the other side of the road. The giant dog that walked next to the stranger turned around and pricked his ears toward Atlas as his long tail swished from side to side. When the person turned towards you, the first thing that caught your eye was the LED on his temple that flickered blue. What you noticed next were his large, dark-colored eyes, blown wide in surprise. You could barely discern his other facial features, even with the streetlights on. The lamps were obviously very old, as most of the bulbs were either flickering or did not even work.

“Is something the matter?” The android questioned as his eyes flicked down to Atlas. He smiled at her before looking back up at you. You knew Atlas would not misbehave, but you kept her close to your side in case the other dog got upset.

“Sorry to interrupt your walk,” you trailed off as you thought about how to explain your situation. “I just moved here recently, and I managed to get lost while taking this one on a walk,” you gestured to Atlas. “Do you live in the neighborhood? Do you think you could help me?” You asked the android, a little desperate to get home.

The stranger, who introduced himself as Connor, agreed to help you find your way home. It did not take long for him to find directions after you told him your house number, as androids were technically walking databases. You and Connor engaged in awkward small talk while he led you back to your house. At some point during the walk back, Atlas made friends with the other dog. You were used to Atlas dwarfing other dogs, but she was quite small compared to the mammoth-like Saint Bernard.

“Can I see you again?” Connor managed to choke out when you were halfway through your door. Your dog slipped into the house, and you unhooked her leash before closing the door behind her and turning around. Connor’s warm brown eyes were darting around, landing everywhere except for you. His friend’s dog, who you learned was named Sumo, slobbered all over his hand which was clutched tightly around the leash. You could have sworn that Connor’s face was turning blue, but it was too dark to tell. 

“I’d like that.” You responded, an awkward smile making its way onto your face. Your eyes met Connor’s, and his lips quirked upward. Your breath hitched in your throat at his slight smile. You would be lying if you said you were not blushing, even if it was just a little bit.

“Every morning, before I go to work, I take Sumo on a walk. Would you like to join me tomorrow?” He asked, his head tilting to the side slightly. You had not known him for very long, but you noticed his mannerisms were comparable to a dog’s. It was cute. You found yourself wondering how CyberLife made his facial expressions so intricate. If he did not have the LED, you would not be able to tell that he was an android.

“I’d love to. I’m quite sure that Atlas would love a new friend as well.” You answered, looking down at Sumo. The Saint Bernard was sitting down, his tail thumping against the snow. He looked up at you with an unbelievably cute stare as drool fell ungracefully from his large jowls.

From then on, the two of you went for a walk together every morning. You agreed to his proposal since you did not want to get lost again. However, that was only one of two reasons. The other reason was quite simple. You thought Connor was cute. Soon, the morning walks you went on together became something you always looked forward to. Sometimes, you and Connor would stop to chat on a bench in the park and watch the sunrise. Atlas and Sumo usually sat quietly, but on occasion they would play together to burn off extra energy.

As you reminisced, you picked up the pace so you would not be late to the bench at the park where you and Connor met up every morning. Atlas trotted along happily, leaving large paw prints in the snow. Sporadically, she would stop and sniff a tree root or some odd substance on the sidewalk. You were less inclined to let her investigate the latter. Snow began to smother her thick black fur, leaving a frosty shroud over her coat. You were not worried about her being cold since her pelt provided ample protection from the frigid weather. You lifted your head from the snowy ground and spotted two familiar figures standing by a bench.

As soon as Connor heard your footsteps, he turned around with a smile. Sumo stood beside him, wagging his tail when he caught sight of Atlas. Connor’s features looked gorgeous, bathed in the soft morning light. His short, brunette hair was gently flowing with the wind, more notably the few strands longer than the others that rested on his forehead and curled slightly. His brown eyes were reflecting the blue light, making a beautiful display. The moles and freckles that dotted across his face and his prominent forehead lines, even if they were made to be imperfections, made him look simply breathtaking.

“Are you alright? You have not blinked in 1 minute and 54 seconds. You seem a bit zoned out.” Connor’s concerned voice interrupted your very blatant staring. You immediately looked away, your face turning a bit red. Your heart skipped a beat, and anything you wanted to say got caught in your throat. You felt Connor’s presence as he stepped closer to you, reaching his hand in his pocket to grab something. Connor’s hands reached above you, and you felt something warm on the top of your damp hair; it covered your ears when the android lightly tugged it down.

“Apologies,” he trailed off, searching for what to say next. “I remember you telling me that Atlas chewed up your beanie, so I bought you a new one. I figured it would be better for you to have a head covering sooner rather than later; I noticed your face turning red from the cold.” He explained bashfully, a crooked smile on his face. He promptly realized his hands were still hovering near your head and awkwardly rested them by his sides.

“Thanks, Connor.” You responded softly, tugging the beanie down. You looked up at him, a goofy smile plastered on your face. As much as you would love to deny it, the cherry color that brushed your cheeks was not from the cold biting at your face, as Connor believed. You were blushing simply because Connor was just so cute. As the professional front that he put up when he first met you slowly chipped away, an irresistibly endearing and thoughtful personality was revealed. You wondered how someone with such an in-depth personality could be even slightly comparable to a machine.

“You don’t have to thank me; I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get sick,” Connor stated. His intonation was always professional, but you learned to detect the hints of sweetness that were sometimes laced into his voice. He smiled gently at you, and you practically swooned.

“We have been standing here for 2 minutes and 23 seconds longer than usual. Shall we begin walking?” The android asked, his head tilting and his brows rising slightly, a mannerism that was quite familiar to you.

“Wow, a whole 2 minutes and 23 seconds?” You commented sarcastically and let out a slight chuckle. His lovable way of just being him always made your heart skip a beat. You playfully nudged him with your shoulder, causing him to smile.

“You’re right. Let’s go!” You shot out quickly before he could defend himself from your previous comment. You skipped forward, with Atlas following you at a trot. You could not hear his footsteps or Sumo’s behind you, and looked back to see what was keeping him. What you saw nearly made your heart stop beating. He was giggling to himself, and there was a softness on his face that you had not seen before. Something that you could not distinguish shone in his eyes as he gazed at you, a dazzling smile on his face. Whatever it was, though, made your breath catch in your throat.

You and Connor walked along the snow-covered pathway in the park, making idle chat as the time passed. The sun began peeking from the horizon, its bright light reflecting onto the snow. It was nearly blinding, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust. You wondered if Connor was having trouble seeing. Were his artificial eyes able to regulate the bright lights quicker than yours? One thought led to the next, and you pondered if he had night vision. His eyes looked so realistic, and the deep brown of his iris reflected light flawlessly. They were enchanting.

“Is there something on my face? You have been staring at me more than usual today.” Connor broke the silence, concern etched on his face as he gazed down at you. His eyes perforated into yours as he attempted to figure out your musings. Your heart stuttered as Connor leaned in close to you. “Your heart rate has increased,” he stated. Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heat up. You silently cursed CyberLife for making him able to identify how quickly your heart was beating with nothing more than a glance.

Atlas stopped abruptly and jerked you forward, interrupting you and Connor. You wordlessly thanked Atlas for saving you from the awkwardness of explaining yourself to the android as she stuck her nose into a snow-covered bush. Sumo repeated her actions, but with his entire head, and the snow on top of the shrubbery fell on both dogs. You let out an animated laugh when Atlas pulled herself from the bush and her coal-black fur was covered with bright snow. She stared at Sumo with a death glare as she shook the snow from her pelt.

The Saint Bernard ignored her, his thick fur sopping wet. Sumo innocently blinked as you continued to laugh, and Connor promptly joined in. The android’s laugh sounded like heaven to your ears. The moment was cut short when Sumo shook himself off, half-melted snow and substantial amounts of dog hair flying directly at you and Connor.

An idea popped into your head when you felt the snow fly onto you. You snickered to yourself before leaning down and scooping some snow into your hands. You formed it into a ball and cringed when it crunched audibly. You tried to be as inconspicuous as you could since you knew that the second Connor knew what you were doing, he would be able to dodge any attack you made. Although, with your luck, the android most likely knew about your plan before even you did due to his preconstruction software, or whatever the hell it was called.

Without a second thought, you hurled the snowball directly at Connor. Your aim was on point, and the snowball would have hit him square in the back of the head if he did not crane his neck to the side to dodge it. It barely grazed the edge of his ear. He turned around and stared at you, his eyebrow cocked upwards. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stalked over to you, Sumo happily trotting after him.

“I hope you meant to miss that,” your name slipped from his lips. “It was entirely too easy to dodge. I don’t think you want to play these types of games with me.” He leaned down, his face now level with yours as he gave you a dangerous look. You gritted your teeth at his teasing, but a smile managed to inch its way onto your face. The close proximity made your heart thrum in your chest, but you managed to ignore it. He brought his hand up slowly, slightly hesitating before cupping your face. Even though he was an android, you could still feel subtle warmth emanating from it. His deep brown eyes bore into yours, his face tinted a slight blue.

“You know… I really enjoy our morning walks.”

[magicshopaholic]

Past Lives (Hoseok x OC)

Summary: Faced with an ambiguous relationship from your past, you start to doubt your blossoming relationship with Hoseok.

Pairing: Hoseok x OC

Genre: I wish I could tell you what genre this is but let's go with contemplative flangst (fluff + angst)

Word count: 4.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of parental death

A/N: A lot of OC focus in this one. Takes place about a month after Caterpillar, the same weekend as A Day in the Life.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton  @dreaming-with-happiness  @confessionsofamarshlily  @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld @xjoonchildx @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids

Listen to: "it's hard to get around the wind" by alex turner

hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

Chaeyoung spots the restaurant across the street and checks the map on her phone to make sure it’s the right one. A notification pops up on the top of her screen at the same time.

Hoseok [12:40] This interview is taking a bit longer than expected. I’ll keep you posted. 

Her heart leaps lightly, unexpectedly. It’s not that she’s looking forward to hanging out with him exactly, but amidst the chaos of his tour, it’s the friendly thing to do to catch up with him during the few days he is in town.

Right below Hoseok’s message, though, is the one she’d gotten earlier today - unexpected, but unavoidable.

Hi, Chaeyoung! How are you, darling? I’m in Seoul for the weekend and I was hoping we could grab lunch if you’re free? I would love to see you. Let me know!

Hesitating for a fraction of a second outside the restaurant, she wonders if she can still fake an excuse and make a break for it. But then she sighs, knowing she won’t do that. Once, she might have - and she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But the years have passed and Chaeyoung has grown, and while the past may not have escaped her mind entirely, her reaction to it certainly has.

Stepping in, she’s about to ask the hostess about a possible reservation but then spots a table for two at the far end next to a large window, already half-occupied. Taking a deep breath, she walks over, waving when her companion looks up and spots her.

“Chaeyoung!” Soyeon’s face lights up, the faint smile lines creasing around her eyes. She stands up and moves towards Chaeyoung as if about to give her a hug but hesitates at the last moment. Chaeyoung pauses as well, before leaning forward a bit and meeting her stepmother in a slightly awkward hug.

“This is a really nice restaurant,” remarks Soyeon as they sit down. “Especially these little menus on every table,” she adds, touching the framed cocktail menu with white waves around the edges, a little trinket hanging on the side with a string. “Good choice.”

“A friend told me about it,” says Chaeyoung, glancing out of the corner of her eye at her stepmother. In her late forties, she looks fresh out of a lifestyle magazine, her long summer dress modern but with a subtle bohemian print along the edges. Years ago, that kind of clothing used to make Chaeyoung fume, for it wasn’t what the rest of the mothers wore and Soyeon stood out like a sore thumb. Today, she can’t help but appreciate the originality, wondering if trends really had changed so much over the years. 

“Oh, before I forget -” Seoyeon rummages through her white tote bag and retrieves a clear box with gold tape around it. “Tim Tams. They restocked it at the Foodhall in the mall after ages.”

It takes all of Chaeyoung’s willpower to not lunge for the box. Hands trembling slightly, she takes it at a normal pace, exhaling at the sight of her favourite dessert in the whole wide world. “I - oh, my God. I haven’t had these in so long. I’d given up on ever having these again.” She bites her lip. “Thank you.”

Soyeon beams. “I haven’t seen them in a long time either but I had to go to the mall yesterday to buy a couple of things for the trip, so I thought I’d stop and check.” She shrugs, clearly relieved at Chaeyoung’s reaction. “Guess I got lucky.”

“I mean, I’m dieting right now but Tim Tams I can make an exception for.”

“Why -” Soyeon frowns but stops abruptly. “Well, as long as you enjoy them.” She smiles as Chaeyoung sets the box to the side. There’s a few seconds of silence; now that the initial bit of this lunch has gone without any major hiccups, the pressure to keep the delicate cordiality going is surfacing. A waiter appears and a couple of minutes are occupied while they order drinks (margarita for Soyeon, mojito for Chaeyoung), and then the silence returns.

Soyeon speaks first. “So… how’s work going?” She leans forward with her hands clasped under her chin. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Um, I guess.” Chaeyoung shrugs. “It was a bit daunting at first but I think I’m getting the hang of it.” Not sure how to elaborate further, she lets her eyes wander to the rest of the room. She was right: it is a nice restaurant, breezy and floral, with tons of natural light.

“Your brother mentioned you might have to start travelling a bit,” she says, as their drinks arrive. At that moment, Chaeyoung’s phone lights up on the table.

Hoseok [12:55] The blooper reel for this interview is going to be so embarrassing. Who serves drinks and then tells jokes?

“Cheers?”

“Oh -” Chaeyoung, who had been about to absently take a sip, sheepishly clinks her glass with Soeyon’s. “I don’t know. No one’s said anything yet. I did have to go to Busan last year to cover the arts festival but -” She shrugs. “Nothing since then.”

“You covered the arts festival? That’s amazing!”

“Well, not really covered,” she clarifies, not really wanting to get into something she’d been bemoaning for a while last year. But then she catches sight of Soyeon’s full attention on her and something loosens in her stomach. “I’m still just doing research. It’s not bad, but… you know what, it’s fine. Not everyone in Conde Nast who wants to become a columnist actually becomes one,” she mutters, taking another sip of her drink.

Soyeon nods sympathetically. “I understand. Everyone starts at the bottom but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get frustrating now and then. But don’t give up,” she adds after a moment. “You have the talent.”

Chaeyoung frowns. “For research?”

“For writing.” She gives her a look. “You used to always do so well in your Korean language class - oh, and you won that essay competition, too.”

Her memories stir. “That was… eighth grade,” she murmurs, touching the edge of her fork. “I think the quality of writing at Conde Nast is probably higher than that.” She glances up to see Soyeon nod and look away. “But… you’re right. I didn’t even remember that competition,” she admits.

Soyeon raises her eyebrows. “It was a beautiful essay. The one about the mother searching for her children after the tsunami? Drove me and your father to tears when we read it.”

“Really?” Chaeyoung frowns, a faint smile appearing on her face. “My dad?”

“Oh, yes. He pretended he didn’t but I saw him tear up.” She grins. “Everyone was very proud of you that day.”

Chaeyoung says nothing. It’s coming back to her now, the fact that her father couldn’t make it to the middle school award ceremony because he worked long hours back then. Soyeon had offered to come but Chaeyoung had immediately rebuffed that by claiming only babies brought their parents along to things like this. The only person who had been cheering for her in the audience was Chanyeol - and his best friend who had been begrudgingly dragged along.

As the waiter stops by again to take their food order, Chaeyoung sneaks a glance at her phone, hoping to see another message from Hoseok. But there isn’t one; pursing her lips, she locks the screen and places it next to her plate.

“So what else is going on with you?”

“Oh, um -“ Chaeyoung tears her eyes away from her phone. “Nothing, really. How’s my dad?” she asks after a moment.

“He’s okay. Getting a little restless after retirement, but he’s adjusting.” Soyeon gives her a small smile. “He really misses you two.”

Chaeyoung tries not to scoff. “Chanyeol, maybe.”

But Soyeon shakes her head. “You, too. He tells everyone that his daughter works for a big magazine in Seoul.”

“But his son works for a tech company in Busan. The saddest day of his life was the day my brother moved out,” she points out. She looks up to see Soyeon’s expression shift to resemble something like sympathy, and immediately changes the subject. “Do you talk to him often?”

“Chanyeol? Sometimes. I travel to Busan every few months so we catch up if he has the time.”

Chaeyoung frowns slightly, unsure of what kind of answer she was expecting. It was no secret that as kids, he got along with their stepmother much better than she did, making an effort to be polite to a grown-up. 

The food arrives then and Chaeyoung clings to a couple of minutes of silence as they dig into their plates of pasta. She wonders briefly why her brother hasn’t brought up Soyeon in their conversations if they indeed talk that often. 

“He told me about his new girlfriend,” says Soyeon, sprinkling some oregano on her plate. “She sounds great.”

“Hayoung? Yeah, they were in the same class in school. She, Chan, Hoseok - all of them. She’s nice.”

“What about you?” She raises her eyebrows with a smile. “Any special boys in your life?”

Ignoring the weak jolt of her heart, Chaeyoung shakes her head. “From high school? Not a single one. I don’t think boys started liking me like that until college.”

“Well, Chanyeol was quite protective of you,” says Soyeon in a matter-of-fact way. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the boys in school thought twice about messing with you.”

It’s not that it’s a surprise, really, but she feels a sudden rush of affection for her brother. She remembers the ice creams and the free use of all his toys and his generosity with pocket money, but maybe it extended further than that. Maybe, just maybe, her childhood idea of she and her brother being a team against the world wasn’t entirely in her head.

“He can get annoying sometimes, too,” she says nonchalantly, recolving to call him later tonight, just to chat. “He pesters me endlessly to download this app that’s supposed to track my spending and savings for me.”

Soyeon doesn’t say anything but the look in her eyes makes it clear she isn’t fooled by the blasé tone. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I’m just going to run to the ladies’ room.” She scoops up her phone and slides out of the chair, walking away as her dress flows behind her.

Chaeyoung picks up her phone. There isn’t a message from Hoseok yet, but she sends him one anyway.

Chaeyoung [13:30] Having one of the stranger afternoons of my life. I’ll tell you about it later. If you’re ever done with your interview, that is.

She sends both messages, hoping a second later that she isn’t coming across as desperate. She begins to panic but then a reply appears.

Hoseok [13:32] Can’t wait to hear all about it.

Her heart leaps as Soyeon returns, a faint citrus scent following her. “Sorry about that. What is it?” she asks.

“What is what?”

“You were smiling just now.” 

“Oh.” This isn’t a topic she wants to get into with anyone, least of all her stepmother. There’s the latent fear that whoever she talks to will automatically think she’s regressed into her obsessive teenage self, while the much more real fear is that it might just be true.

It’s not just you. He kissed you, too. He’s texting you, too. He wants to hang out with you, too.

The mantra repeats itself in her head, objective truths that make all the difference between their old dynamic and their new one.

“It’s nothing.”

Soyeon pauses but evidently lets it go. “Okay. Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s not really the kind of thing I wanted to say over the phone.” She licks her lips, looking slightly nervous.

“Okay,” says Chaeyoung slowly, setting down her phone and sitting back in her chair.

“Um… so, your father and I… well, we’re doing our estate planning. You know, working on our wills.”

“Why?” Chaeyoung asks sharply, hearing the sudden anxiety in her own voice. “What’s - what’s wrong with -”

“No, nothing!” Soyeon shakes her head immediately, holding up her hands. “Your father is fine. It’s just run of the mill stuff, you know. Just so we have all our affairs in order. Nothing is wrong,” she clarifies, waiting for Chaeyoung to nod before continuing. “So… he is, of course, dividing his assets between you and your brother, but since I don’t have children of my own…” She clears her throat, eyes flickering downward.

Chaeyoung says nothing. This conversation is taking an unexpected route and this is the last topic she wants to deal with today.

“Well… there are some things I own that I would’ve probably left to my daughter, if I had one. Jewellery and the like, things I got for my wedding - and I’m not saying you’re my daughter or that I’m your -” She clarifies quickly, and Chaeyoung nods again, wordlessly. “But… I would like to leave that to you, if you’re alright with it.”

Her phone lights up again, another message from Hoseok.

Hoseok [13:45] Fucking hell. There’s a road blocked on the way to the airport so I’ll have to leave earlier than planned. Filming might get pushed up but I’ll still try to make it. Letting you know just in case.

The disappointment in her stomach feels faint, like she’s imagining it - or hoping for it. Chaeyoung forces herself to respond in a steady voice.

“Um, I think you can leave your things to whoever you want. I don’t think you need to ask.”

Soyeon nods, and her eyes fall slightly. “I know,” she says softly. “But I want to ask. We aren’t very close and… I don’t want to presume anything.”

Chaeyoung bites her lip. Her chest feels uncomfortable, and she tries to work out which road on the way to the airport might be blocked. Why it would, today of all days, how much earlier Hoseok would have to leave to catch his flight, and what the odds might be of him actually meeting her at Sephora later today. 

“Chaeyoung?”

“I -” Chaeyoung clears her throat. “Of course, you can. Thank you.”

Soyeon raises her eyebrows for a moment, as though surprised at this quick response. “Oh. Okay. Wonderful. That’s - that’s really… thank you.” She smiles and reaches for her drink, taking a quick sip. “I should ask for some more ice. What about you? More ice?”

“Sure. And… I know we aren’t very close.” Chaeyoung looks down at her plate before forcing herself to meet her stepmother’s eyes. Her stepmother, who made sure that not a single birthday went by without wishes and a gift. “But that’s on me,” she mutters.  “You did your best.”

The waiter stops by and it seems to take Soyeon a moment to remember why she had called him. As she requests him for more ice and to clear their plates, Chaeyoung glances at her phone out of the corner of her eye and feels the knot in her chest loosen. Maybe the road will get unblocked by the evening. Maybe filming will end early, or maybe there won’t be traffic between Big Hit and Sephora.

“You know, you can leave jewellery to Chanyeol, too,” she half-jokes when they get their dessert menus. “He’s not bad at accessorising.”

Soyeon chuckles. “You might be right. I am planning to give him something, though.” She hesitates. “In a year or two, if everything looks like it’s going well… I was thinking of giving him my engagement ring. I’m hoping he’ll propose to Hayoung with it, if he wants.”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “Wow. That’s… wow, an engagement ring. Oppa’s growing old,” she remarks in wonder, making Soyeon laugh. “He and Hayoung make a good couple, though. I could see her as my sister-in-law.”

“Yes, but I want to ask him when the time is right.” She leans forward slightly. “Can it stay between you and me till then?”

Chaeyoung nods, somewhat endeared by the prospect. They order a tiramisu to share and return the menus, when another message pops up on her phone.

Hoseok [13:55] Interview just got done. Do you think you can meet me at Sephora in about an hour?

Chaeyoung grabs her phone and immediately types out a reply. “Sorry,” she mutters to Soyeon, hastily sending a Yeah, I’ll be there to him.

“No problem. Everything okay?”

“What?” She sets her phone down. “Yes, everything is… okay. It’s good.” But she can feel the smile starting to spread across her face, suddenly glad she had the foresight to bring the gift card with her to lunch.

“Yeah? Someone interesting been texting you all afternoon?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” she answers automatically. “I mean, not interesting, just… it’s Hoseok,” she admits lamely.

“Our Hoseok?” Soyeon looks both surprised yet somewhat knowing. “Chanyeol mentioned you two were friendly now, but are you…”

“Friends?” Chaeyoung guesses. “Yeah, I guess. We both live here and I guess we started hanging out last year…” She shrugs, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. “It’s not a big deal. But, yeah… we’re friends.”

“That’s nice,” she says. But there’s that knowing look in her eye again, and Chaeyoung isn’t sure if it’s a guess or if she’s being that obvious. “You two kind of… clashed growing up.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, grudgingly appreciating Soyeon’s attempt at being diplomatic. “That would be an understatement. But, yeah, I guess once I stopped being a creepy stalker and he got his head out of his ass… we actually get along pretty well.”

Soyeon waves her hand as the tiramisu arrives and they each grab a small silver spoon. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she says as they attack the dessert together. “You were a kid - and everybody that age wants validation from someone they look up to. You had a crush,” she tells her. “We’ve all been there.”

Chaeyoung knows it’s meant to be comforting, but it struggles to get through. What if I’m still there?

“Can I tell you a secret?” she blurts out. It suddenly occurs to her that there are two people at this table who lost their mothers when they were children. “You can’t tell anyone - especially not my brother.”

“Of course,” says Soyeon instantly. “Is everything okay?”

At this pivotal moment, Chaeyoung’s voice seems to give up on her. It’s happened before, the couple of times she’d been about to confide in Sooah before chickening out, for there was no guarantee anymore that she wouldn’t tell Jimin. Sunmi would be no help in general, her work friends weren’t close enough and had zero context, and Chanyeol was simply out of the question.

She clears her throat. “Hoseok and I… kissed,” she confesses before she can lose her nerve. She sees Soyeon’s face start to relax and hurriedly continues. “It was the night of my birthday. He came over, brought me a Sephora gift card and cupcakes… and we hung out. He offered to go skincare shopping with me and told me about his tour. And then right before he left… he kissed me. Or we - we kissed,” she finishes awkwardly, wishing she was less incoherent about this.

“Oh. So, are you two dating?”

“No,” she answers immediately, realising now that she was also possibly dreading an over-the-top reaction by Sooah, one that would make her want to crawl under her bed covers and never reappear. “No, we’re still friends. We haven’t really talked about it. He’s been abroad ever since. It’s… kind of confusing, that’s all.” When Soyeon doesn’t respond, Chaeyoung worries she may have overshared. “What?”

“Nothing…” Soyeon bites her lip. “I’m trying to decide between the advice I should give and the advice I actually want to.”

“The second one.”

“Okay, then.” She sets her spoon down, their half-eaten tiramisu abandoned between them. “I watched Hoseok grow up and while I love him like family… I would tell you to protect yourself.”

Chaeyoung pauses, not expecting this. “What’s the advice you should be giving?”

“You know…” Soyeon shrugs. “Follow your heart, tell him how you feel, don’t be ashamed of your feelings.” She purses her lips. “I’m not saying you should be ashamed of your feelings or that you shouldn’t follow your heart, but… maybe you want to see where this goes before confessing anything? He’s doing so well for himself and we’re all very proud, but I can’t imagine that that life would be a walk in the park to put up with. Just… don’t be in a hurry, especially if you’re not sure how he feels.” She pauses. “Or how you feel.”

There are too many grudging truths in this piece of advice. For the first time all day, she doesn’t immediately glance at her phone when it lights up with a message.

“Did I spoil your mood?” Soyeon asks as they’re heading out. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention. I was just trying to -”

“No, I know.” Chaeyoung interrupts her. It’s raining now; the sunniness of the day has disappeared as though it never existed and they stand under the roof right outside the door of the restaurant. “You didn’t spoil anything. Maybe… maybe we’re just meant to be friends and nothing more.”

“Maybe. I’m not pretending like I know everything about your relationship with him. I know that he’s a good kid with a good heart, and so are you. And teenage reactions don’t mean much when you’re grown up.” Soyeon tilts her head and places a hand on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “I’m not at all surprised that you two get along. And he would be incredibly lucky to be with you. But maybe I’m biased.”

They exchange a small smile. It feels a bit more real now: the kiss, the feelings, the fact that Jung Hoseok isn’t just a teenage fantasy anymore. 

“Thanks. That’s good advice. I could’ve used more of it over the years,” she adds. 

Soyeon averts her gaze for a moment before looking up again and smiling. “We have time,” she says. “I’m just a phone call away.”

Chaeyoung nods. One of the stranger afternoons of my life. “And thank you for the Tim Tams.”

Soyeon laughs. “Don’t worry. I bought a second box just for myself.” Chaeyoung grins as Soyeon’s phone pings and a cab pulls up in front of the restaurant. “How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I’m going to Sephora - er, the mall. I’ll take the bus,” she says, pointing at the bus stop across the street. “It’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Soyeon raises her eyebrows. “Alright. Text me when you reach. And… say hi to Hoseok for me.” Her eyes twinkle and without thinking, Chaeyoung steps forward and hugs her stepmother. Soyeon seems to freeze for a fraction of a second before hugging her back. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart,” she murmurs, stroking her hair. “And have fun at Sephora.” Stepping away and tucking a strand of hair behind Chaeyoung’s ear, Soyeon hurries out into the rain and into the waiting cab. 

Chaeyoung waves to her as she leaves, too many mixed feelings churning through her. But it’s lighter somehow and as she crosses the street in the rain, cringing slightly as her hair gets wet, she suddenly feels older and more capable.

There’s too much to unpack from this afternoon so she decides to keep it aside until she gets home. As she nears the mall, the city caught in an unseasonal shower, the only part of her lunch with Soyeon that seems impossible  compartmentalise is the bit about Hoseok.

He would be incredibly lucky to be with you. Part of her knows she’s jumping the gun; apart from the one kiss they shared and the innocent flirting at best, there has been nothing to indicate that they’re anything more than just good friends. 

But there’s the other part, the part where he’s been texting her whenever he can, joking around with her, moving his schedule around just to shop with her. She isn’t imagining it, but the more she has to convince herself of it, the less special is feels.

It’s still raining when she reaches the mall. Splashing through the small puddles in the pavilion, she hurries into the mall, the AC making her shiver.

“Shit,” she mutters, tugging her thin cotton shrug around her. She catches her reflection in a mirror by the door of a clothing store and groans inwardly; her long hair, painstakingly shampooed, conditioned and straightened this morning, is damp and wavy down her shoulders, strands sticking to her forehead. Her eyeliner seems to have smudged as well, making her look like a drowning raccoon.

Hoseok [14:30] Just reached. Where are you?

Chaeyoung sighs and glances back up at her reflection. Taking a selfie of herself scowling, she superimposes it on a dramatic graphic of a stormy sky and sends it to him.

Chaeyoung [14:32] [photo] Got caught in the rain. I look like a crack addict.

Hoseok [14:33] OMG You still look cute, haha. Very punk. Like, bubblegum punk.

Chaeyoung feels a smile spread across her face at the response. Looking back up at her reflection, she shakes out her damp hair so it falls tousled down her shoulder. A lot more confident than she was a few moments ago, she makes her way to the escalator.

Sephora is on the second floor of the mall, with all the other cosmetics and skincare stores. It’s the biggest one, though, looking shiny and expensive.

As she approaches the store, she spots Hoseok inside. He’s wearing a hoodie, a baseball cap and a mask, but Chaeyoung recognises him instantly. He’s standing a bit to the inside of the store, in a corner by the eye creams, rubbing his eyes and looking down at his phone.

At the exact same time that Chaeyoung’s heart flutters at the sight of him, a different part of her conversation with Soyeon resurfaces out of nowhere. She takes a step back so she’s behind a pillar; she’s sure he can’t spot her now. Opening the camera of her phone, she holds it up to her face to look at her reflection again.

It can’t be. A simple text from Hoseok can’t change her opinion in an instant, not this much. Is it true, though? Is she, after all these years, still looking for validation from him?

It’s a more humiliating thought than any memory of her childhood crush. Liking Hoseok all over again is something she can handle; wanting his validation, his approval - it’s a path she can’t go down again.

Chaeyoung lowers her phone to sneak a look at Hoseok again. He’s taken off his mask now. A few people seem to have recognised him, but his attention is on his phone, face pensive.

She realises she hasn’t replied to his last message. Her thumbs hover over the screen; it’s not her finest moment, but she knows she can’t do this until she’s had some time to reflect, alone.

Chaeyoung [14:38] I might need to take a raincheck, literally. It’s pouring and I can’t get a single cab. I’m sorry.

With a heavy heart and hoping she doesn’t regret this, she sends the text. Peering from behind the pillar, she watches as Hoseok gets the message. He stares at his phone for a few seconds, his shoulders falling, before visibly sighing and taking off his cap. He runs a hand through his dark hair and puts the cap back on.

Hoseok [14:39] Oh. That’s cool. Let me know when you get back home safe, okay?

Chaeyoung almost gives it up right then but when she sees Hoseok exiting the store, she immediately flattens herself behind the pillar. Taking great care to not be seen, she watches Hoseok go down the escalator and disappear into the crowd.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 1

MASTERLIST

Jake x original female character

When I originally started writing this, it was going to be a short story that was never going to see the light of day. But eleven chapters later, someone talked me into posting it. There probably won't be much of a posting "schedule," and this is a very rough draft, so go easy on me. 😅 (Also, I'm not married to the title so that may be subject to change later on down the road.)

word count: 3500+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language, very vague mentions of sex, mentions of death of a parent, mentions of not having a great relationship with the other, and Jake being a cocky bastard

“Okay, so tomorrow I’ll need you to grab the parts for the amp and pick up the Gretsch.”

“Sounds good, boss man.” I stood leaning against the counter while Richie scribbled down some notes.

He’d been lucky enough to score this nice little space in Nashville to start up a new guitar shop. Another local shop had recently shut down, so it was a great opportunity. It took a few months to prepare everything, but we finally opened a few days ago, and everything was running smoothly. My favorite part was getting to help repair and refurbish antique guitars that had been through the ringer. Hence the Gretsch. That was going to be our first project at the new place.

I’d been flitting around, helping customers, straightening shelves, and whatever else needed doing. The bell at the front door dinged, indicating someone had entered. I glanced up to see Richie greeting the man, who nodded at him and walked over to the wall of electric guitars. He looked like a musician. He carried himself like a cocky, broody, rockstar who couldn’t even be bothered to take his sunglasses off inside. His shirt wasn’t even buttoned all the way up. I rolled my eyes before going back to my work.

I was moving one of the acoustic guitars over to a small area we had set up with a couple of wooden stools, so it would be available if someone wanted to test it out. I strummed a chord or two to make sure it was in tune and gently placed it on the stand.

“You play?”

I turned to face the owner of the voice, not surprised at all to see Mr. Broody. “I dabble. And you? Looking for anything in particular?”

“Well, I was just browsing. Checking out the new digs, you know?” He took the silly round frame sunglasses off, allowing me to get a better look at his face. “But I ended up finding something I do want.” He gave a cocky half smile, and I saw his eyes check me out from head to toe.

Oh, we’re going to play that game. He wasn’t bad looking by any means. His dark shoulder length hair hung loose, framing his features. The navy-blue button up he wore looked really good on him, undone at the top to show off a few silver chains that hung around his neck. His chocolate brown eyes looked mischievous, in a way that just screamed trouble. My favorite. I’d play along, have a little fun with him.

“Is that so? And what makes you think you can handle me?” I cocked my head and crossed my arms, smiling playfully at him.

“What makes you think I can’t?” He took a step closer to me.

“You’re being awfully cocky for someone who doesn’t even know my name yet.”

Another step. “Would you even tell me if I asked?”

“I don’t know that you’ve earned it yet.”

He took another step. I could smell his cologne, something woodsy with a hint of sweet rum. “How about a fair trade?”

“Oh, and what did you have in mind?”

The last step brought him so close we were practically touching. At least he was gentleman enough to keep his hands to himself. The banter was clearly good-natured and flirtatious. I didn’t feel threatened or creeped out, and to be honest, he was piquing my interest. “You tell me your name; I’ll take you out. Coffee or lunch, your call.”

I noticed Richie starting to walk over, giving me a concerned look. I smiled and waved him off, letting him know I was doing just fine. The handsome, albeit slightly annoying man was watching me, patiently awaiting a response. I reached out to touch the silver coin pendant he wore, inspecting it. “Recovered from the shipwreck of Nuestra Señora de Atocha.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

I dropped the coin, letting it fall back against his chest. “Alright, mystery man. I’ll take you up on coffee. Friday. Gives you a few days to really think about what you’re getting yourself into, in case you change your mind.”

“Not a chance. But you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

I raised my chin defiantly and looked straight into his eyes before responding. “Kya. And you already know where to find me, so I’ll see you on Friday. Better make it worth my while.”

“Oh, I intend to, Kya.” He said my name like he was savoring it, turning it over on his tongue as if it were a wine tasting. I wonder if he knows how to put that tongue to good use.

“Do I get to know your name, or is that a secret?”

He smiled and winked before stepping away, creating some distance between us and the obvious sexual tension that was starting to develop. “Jake.”

“Jake. I’ll see you soon, then. If you don’t chicken out, anyways.”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking his head before turning to leave. I called his name, making him turn to look at me one more time. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“I would never.” He shot me another one of those cocky smiles before putting his sunglasses back on and leaving the store. It was hard not to notice the dirty look Richie had plastered on his face as Jake made his departure.

“Now what did he ever do to you?” I laughed, walking back to Richie, and leaning my elbows on the counter.

Richie shook his head. “I don’t trust rockstars. You gotta be careful around guys like that, kid.”

“You think he’s an actual rockstar?” I snorted, brushing off his comment.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t think. Hang on.” He walked over to a shelf of vinyl records, took a moment to find what he was looking for, and brought it back to the counter. ‘Greta Van Fleet.’ Anthem of the Peaceful Army. He pulled out the insert and pointed to the spot in the corner with the list of the band members and what they played. Right there, clear as day, was ‘Jacob Kiszka – lead guitar.’ It wasn’t lost on me that the lead vocalist and bassist also shared the same last name.

“You’re kidding.” I pulled my phone out, opened Instagram, and typed in the band name, scrolling through the photos. I clicked on a few group pictures, just to confirm what I was seeing. Yep, definitely him.

“Well shit, I guess I’ve got a coffee date with Jacob fucking Kiszka.”

~

I think I had recognized the name ‘Greta Van Fleet’ and maybe had heard a few songs here and there, but I couldn’t name any. I knew next to nothing about them or their music. But as far as Jake was concerned, we had our little game we were playing, and I wasn’t interested in letting him win it just yet. By the time Friday rolled around, I vowed to be prepared for whatever he would throw my way.

I started with their first release; a double EP titled From the Fires. I pressed play and kept it going for my drive across town. I found myself really enjoying it. The singer had an exceptionally interesting voice, and the guitar riffs were so smooth and pure. Jake, you might actually know a thing or two about playing guitar.

I picked up the parts Richie needed for the amp repair and plugged in the address for my next errand. After listening to From the Fires in its entirety, I switched to their first full length album, Anthem of the Peaceful Army, catching myself tapping fingers on the steering wheel in tune to the beat.

I had not met the man I was picking up the Gretsch from, but Richie assured me he was a good guy and an easy customer. I knocked on the door to the house and was greeted by an elderly man. “Hi, I’m Kya. Richie sent me to pick up a guitar?”

“Oh, yes, of course! Come in, come in. I’m Gary.” He moved slowly a little hunched over as he led me into the living room and pointed to a worn-out guitar case on the floor. “Hope you’ll forgive me, sweetheart, it ain’t easy for me to lift that anymore.”

“Not a problem at all. May I?” He gave me the go-ahead and I squatted down to examine the case. It was well worn and damaged on the edges, but it was still functionable. It had a thick layer of dust over the surface, only disturbed by recent finger marks, presumably from it being moved to the living room. I popped the locks and opened it, revealing the absolute treasure inside. This guitar had definitely been through the ringer. The green paint on the body was faded and chipped, and the wood was cracked in a few spots. Pretty much all the hardware would need to be replaced, but it had decent bones. It would be a lot of work, but it would be well worth it, and I was excited for the project.

“Can’t help but feel guilty for letting it fall into disrepair like that.” I turned to meet the man’s sad eyes. I bet he had his fair share of stories to tell.

I smiled sweetly at him, trying to ease whatever sadness he was feeling. “I’ve seen much worse. And I’m confident we can get her looking and playing just like new.” I shut the case and lifted it by the handle, sending him another reassuring glance. “I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

“I know you will. Thank you, ma’am, and tell Richie I said thank you as well.”

“Will do.” He walked me back to the front door and I shook his hand before leaving, loading the case carefully into my back seat. I waved to the sweet old man watching me from his porch and hit the road, still jamming to Anthem of the Peaceful Army.

~

By the time Friday rolled around, I’d made sure to familiarize myself with the rest of the discography and did some social media investigating. I learned Jake’s twin brother, Josh, was the one with those wicked pipes, their brother Sam played bass and absolutely beautiful keyboards, and Daniel was the drum guru.

Sure, I was excited to continue our silly back and forth but did not want to let myself be disappointed if he didn’t show. Richie never missed an opportunity to remind me that it was a bad idea, to which I would roll my eyes and politely ask him to mind his own business. “I’m grown, and more than capable of taking care of myself,” I would remind him right back.

It was around 11 AM, the store had only been open for an hour and a half. The little bell above the door rang and in walked Mr. Broody Rockstar himself. He still wore his shirt only half buttoned, except today it was white. He wore the same round frame sunglasses, but he took them off when he entered, scanning the store, presumably for me. When his eyes found mine, I smirked at him but didn’t move. I’d make him come to me. He approached me, looking quite smug.

“You showed. I’m impressed. I thought you might disappoint.”

“And miss the chance to gaze upon the beautiful woman in front of me?” He sucked his teeth. “Never.”

How ostentatious. “Well, if I remember correctly, you owe me a coffee date. Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?”

“I always do.”

“Then lead the way, Mr. Kiszka.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond to my use of his last name. I grabbed my jacket and purse, and as we walked past the front counter, he put his hand on my lower back. I didn’t mind. But then he leaned in and, not so quietly, said, “Maybe afterwards I can show you something much more enticing than coffee.”

The implication was clear, and I was not averse to the idea of seeing what he had to offer. However, he made his bold little statement within earshot of Richie, who promptly stepped out from behind the counter and blocked our path to the door. “Watch it, lover boy,” he all but growled.

I shot Richie the hardest glare I could muster. “Settle down, guard dog,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back later.” The look I gave him relayed the message clearly: ‘Move, and don’t fucking embarrass me.’

He stepped back out of the way but didn’t bother to hide the dirty look he shot Jake, who didn’t seem to falter once. I made a mental note to tear Richie a new one later and we exited the shop.

Jake let out a breath that I didn’t know he had been holding. “Some guard dog you’ve got there.”

I grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about him. He’s a little protective, is all.”

“I can tell. You’d think he was your dad or something.”

Laughing, I hooked my arm with his as we walked. “Richie practically raised me. And he’s harmless compared to my actual father, who you’ll consider yourself lucky to never meet.”

“Oh, we have daddy issues, huh?”

He was trying to push my buttons on purpose, but I found it sort of endearing, in an annoying kind of way, and one that probably made me a little bit of a masochist. “You know, Jacob, your flirting methods are very questionable.”

“At least you recognize the flirting. Besides, you haven’t had any problems dishing it right back, sweetheart.”

“I never do.”

“Spitfire.” His laugh is cute.

He led me to one of the local coffee shops. We ordered our drinks and found an empty table next to the window. Jake looked so proud of himself, like he had won some elusive prize by getting me to have coffee with him. It gave me a chance to really look at him through the sunlight that was beaming through the window. He was very attractive, and I was a sucker for how the sun reflected in his eyes. His smile was doing something for me, too.

“So, Kya, are you from Nashville?” He sipped his coffee but didn’t take his eyes off me.

“No, I’ve only been here for about eight months. I was born in Texas but mostly raised in West Virginia. And you, you’re from… Michigan?”

“Did your research, huh?”

“I like to be prepared.” I smirked at him.

“You know,” he leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the empty chair next to him. “I find it really unfair that you know so much about me and I know next to nothing about you.”

“You better start playing catch up, then.”

He took that as a challenge he had no intention of backing down from. He shot off some rapid-fire questions, mostly small talk like what kind of music I liked, hobbies, if I had any pets (I did not). I’d ask some of the same questions, little things that I didn’t know or just hadn’t read about yet. I knew about his brothers, his bandmates, but he shared he also had a younger sister back in Frankenmuth.

I answered everything he asked me honestly. After all, I didn’t have anything to hide, not really. But when he asked me about siblings, I decided I didn’t particularly want to discuss my brother. So, I told him I had none, which was only a partial lie. Luca died when we were kids, and I did not feel like ruining the mood with that story.

He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. His sleeves were halfway rolled up, giving me a view of a singular, linear scar on his left forearm. “Middle school. I broke it wrestling.” He looked pensive for a moment, like he was considering what to say next. “Thought I wouldn’t be able to play guitar again, but it actually helped. After it healed, it was easier to reach a fret further than I could before.”

I always found stories like that interesting. I could play some basic chords and riffs, but I wouldn’t consider myself good at it by any means. It wasn’t an easy instrument to learn how to play, and certainly wasn’t easy to play as well as he did, so I admired his dedication and talent. “Well, thank God for broken bones. Seems less dramatic than selling your soul to the devil at a crossroads, anyways.”

He chucked, showing he did, in fact, get the Robert Johnson reference. “Yeah, I think you’d be correct. Might hurt less, though.” He was funny, I’ll give him that, and he was starting to grow on me a little.

“So, tell me more about this ‘rabid guard dog’ and ‘daddy issues’ situation. I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Richie means well. It’s just that sometimes he still sees me as the scared little girl that got dropped off on his doorstep in the middle of the night, which I guess leads into the second part. My dad is… a complicated person whose life can be a literal dumpster fire. I haven’t seen him in a few years, but I’ll get a phone call occasionally, checking in.”

Jake thought about it for a second, cautiously moving to the next question. “Can I ask, is your mom in the picture?”

“No. She died when I was a baby.” Before he could get out an overdone condolence, I shook my head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago and I didn’t know her.” It wasn’t just an empty reassurance. You can’t miss someone you didn’t even know. Most of what I knew about my mom came from Richie and other family friends, but even those bits of information were few and far between. My dad never wanted to talk about her, surely because it hurt him to do so. Probably the same reason he refused to talk about Luca.

I shifted the conversation to something lighter, asking him about touring and the process of creating albums. I could see him light up as he talked about it; this was his happy place.

I hadn’t been paying much attention to the time, but when I checked my phone, it was almost one in the afternoon, and I had six unread text messages from Richie. I cringed. “I should probably get back to the shop and at least pretend I work there.”

“He probably thinks I kidnapped you.”

“Nah, he can track the microchip implanted in my neck.” We both snickered at the joke as we stood to leave. We linked arms again and he offered to walk me back to the store. He decided not to come back inside, not wanting to push his luck with my personal security guard.

“Have I earned the privilege of obtaining your phone number, milady?” The faux English accent made me giggle, although it didn’t keep me from thinking he was a huge dork.

I held my hand out, gesturing for him to hand me his phone. I inputted my name and number before handing it back to him. He then grabbed my hand, making a theatrical bow before kissing the back of my hand, ever so delicately. “It’s been a pleasure. Until next time.”

I said goodbye and walked into the store, the bell indicating my presence. Richie glanced at me before returning his attention to the customer he was helping. I got started on some busy work until he rang up the man’s purchases and was free again.

“How was your date?” His arms were crossed, and he had a disapproving look on his face.

I beamed at him. “It was lovely, thank you for asking. And before you ask, yes, he was a perfect gentleman. And yes, I will be seeing him again.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your dad ain’t gonna be happy when he finds out you’re dating a musician.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he isn’t here,” I spit, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice. “He is the last person who gets to have a say in who I date.”

Richie could be overbearing at times, but he knew when to back off. He and my dad had been friends since they were young. When my dad got into some trouble, he dropped me and Luca off with Richie and disappeared for three years. I was seven. Luca was nine. When he showed back up in our lives, I didn’t want to forgive him. He abandoned us, and I could never shake the hurt that came with that. He would continue to make empty promises that he would stay, that he would make it up to us, that he would be present. He never kept those promises.

As I got older, the hurt turned into anger, which morphed into numbness, and then eventually became apathy. I stopped caring so much about what he thought about my life or what was going on in his a long time ago.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I couldn’t help but smile at the message.

Unknown number – 1:47 PM

Thanks for giving me a chance, spitfire.

Dinner soon?

[imreallyloveleee]

ooooo is your last post about “i feel like i win when i lose”???

sorry anon, it's not - it's about a better call saul fic.

however, this reminded me that I got another ask about that story which I forgot to answer a few weeks ago. it has been quite a while since i've worked on it. I have no idea when/if there will be an update, if I'm being completely honest with you. I feel bad about it! but under the cut are some sections from what I do have written of the last chapter. hope you enjoy em <3

Jughead accepts a cold beer from Munroe, settles back onto one of the open loungers, and actually has a pretty good time chilling with the bros until – inevitably – someone suggests they see what the bridesmaids are up to.  

“I dunno.” Archie pauses in the midst of slathering more sunscreen across his chest, something he’s been doing every fifteen minutes or so, likely at Veronica’s behest. “I think Ronnie wanted them to have a girls’ day.” 

Eric opens his mouth to protest, but Reggie jumps in. “I know what you’re thinking, bro, but none of them are single. Well, except for Betty.”

Jughead focuses with deliberate intensity on the label of his beer bottle as the others weigh the pros and cons of crossing the bride’s boundary line for the sake of flirting with her hot maid of honor. He hasn’t spoken with Betty since a week before her move to Michigan for the journalism fellowship, and even that was just a couple of stilted text exchanges – congrats, be sure to buy some good snow boots, ha ha. In the meantime, nearly eight months have passed.

And Jughead’s regretted every minute. 

“Hey.” Archie nudges Jughead’s leg with his foot, jerking his chin towards the house. “Wanna help me with some snacks?”

They both know what he’s actually doing, and Jughead feels a rush of warmth for his friend – his best friend, who’s getting married to the love of his life tomorrow, and deserves better than a sadsack excuse for a best man who wastes a free trip to the Caribbean so he can mope over a non-relationship that ended before it even began.

“Do you even have to ask?”

In the kitchen, Jughead sits on one of the swiveling counter stools and watches as Archie attempts to curate a charcuterie plate. 

“So, Betty asked how you were doing.” Archie tilts his head slightly as he flops a slice of prosciutto to one side, then the other. 

Jughead ignores the faint flutter of hope in his chest. Most likely she was just wondering if she’d have to walk down the aisle with a brooding basket case at her best friends’ wedding. “What’d you tell her?”

Archie shrugs. “Not much. I figured you can tell her yourself at the rehearsal dinner tonight.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Leaning across the counter, Jughead snags a green olive and pops it into his mouth. “I guess I can.” 

“What happened with you two, anyway? Ron was freaking out for weeks that you were gonna, like, propose, and then nothing.” 

“Nothing happened, we just…didn’t happen.” Jughead reaches forward again, this time retrieving a block of cheese and an entire sleeve of organic rosemary-sea salt crackers. “Shit happens. Or doesn’t. Whatever.”

If Archie’s skeptical, he’s too preoccupied arranging slices of salami to dig further. “Whatever you say, man.” 

“Not everyone gets the picture perfect happily-ever-after, Archibald.” Jughead sandwiches a hunk of cheddar between two crackers, eyeballs it, and crams the whole thing into his mouth. “You’re lucky everything just slid into place with Veronica. You got off easy.” 

There’s a pause as Archie frowns down at his mess of a charcuterie plate. “I don’t know if I’d call it easy. There was a lot of stuff we had to work through.” 

It’s a funny thing to hear, coming from a man who’s standing in the kitchen of the villa on the private island that his future father-in-law rented out for an entire week, while he heaps jamón Ibérico onto a hand-carved wooden board for a bunch of sun-drunk bros who’d be just as happy scarfing down a bag of pork rinds. But it is Archie’s wedding, so: he’ll humor him.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“Like the fact that Ronnie’s dad hated me when we first got together because my dad dated her mom back in high school.”

Right. He’d forgotten about that. “Okay, sure, but that was just –”

“And then there was the year when Hiram coached the wrestling team. That was rough.” Archie shakes his head a little. “And the year after that, when I interned for him. I still have nightmares sometimes. And that time where he wanted to buy up the south side and turn it into SoDale – I mean, you know, Jug. You were there.”

“Fair enough. You didn’t hit the in-laws jackpot. But –” 

“And then there was college.” Archie continues as though he hadn’t even heard him. “Long distance was hard. And right after graduation is when Ronnie found out about Hermosa and went through that whole identity crisis thing. She broke up with me for a couple months that year, remember?”

He hadn’t, actually, until this moment. That was the same year that he’d moved to Chicago. It had taken a while before his old friendships had settled into a new rhythm that bridged the hundreds of miles between them, which was his therapist’s very nice way of saying he’d been kind of self-centered that year. 

“And then there was the thing with the bear –”

“Okay, okay.” Jughead waves both hands in defeat. “You moved mountains to be with Veronica. I get it.” 

“I’m just saying. If she’s worth it, sometimes you have to put the work in.” Eyes wide with wonder, Archie holds out a jar of cornichons. “Hey, have you ever tried these baby pickles?” 

A light sprinkle of raindrops catches Jughead just as he slips through the door to the ballroom. 

To one side of the airy, open room, Archie, Veronica, and their parents are huddled together with a severe-looking woman who can only be the wedding planner. To the other, the rest of the wedding party is mingling in clusters of two or three. 

By some miracle – or curse, he can’t decide which – Cheryl Blossom spots him first. “Look what the cat finally dragged in.” 

Scowling, Jughead glances at the time on his phone as he reaches the edge of the group. “I’m not late, Cheryl.” 

She rolls her eyes, flicking a lock of long red hair over one shoulder. “I never said you were.” 

“She’s just jealous you got one of the beachfront suites for being the best man. I got the other one.” 

He turns around, and his heart skips a beat when it’s Betty looking back at him, a hint of nerves in her smile. “Hi, Jughead.” 

“Betty.” He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “Hi.”

She looks radiant: eyes bright, cheeks rosy, hair pinned back in loose waves that fall just past her shoulders. He doesn’t know whether or not she wants him to touch her, but thankfully she doesn’t leave it up to him, stepping forward for a brief, perfunctory hug. 

“I’m not jealous, Cousin Betty,” Cheryl huffs. “I simply find it unacceptable that our hosts would play favorites with two single people who could be sharing a bed themselves while those of us who actually need the space are forced into a room the size of a two-cent postage stamp. Especially while my TT is in such a delicate condition.”

Before either of them can say another word, Cheryl stalks away in a huff. Jughead looks to Betty in mild alarm. “Is Toni okay? Was she in an accident or something?”

“Toni’s fine. She’s pregnant. But she’s only four months along, so you can barely even tell. They don’t need any more space.” Betty waves a hand in dismissal. “Anyway, how have you been? Are you settling in to the city?” 

Betty’s tone is genuine, curious – but also distant. Like it’s been eight months since they’ve spoken, yes, but more than that – like all the little intimacies they’d shared before have been washed away. A polite, friendly blank slate. 

It feels like his heart’s been crumpled up in a ball and tossed into the wastebasket. 

And it’s his own goddamn fault. 

[walleeli]

Want to discuss something about Stampede that’s been plaguing me. SPOILERS for both Trigun Stampede and Trigun Maximum incoming…

I’ve seen a couple posts recently where people have said that Vash’s characterization in Stampede as having always been a goody-two shoes worsens his character (or like, makes it flat or boring or whatever.) and tbh I totally agree. HOWEVER COMMA. I don’t think it will end up having been accurate of him in the adaptation as we continue. And I think its possible it isn’t true now if you happen to know exactly what to look for… this is about to get long.

So I got into Trigun as a whole just a few months ago. And my experience was I watched 98, then tristamp, and THEN read trimax. So that’s my frame of reference and the order in which I experienced the different characterizations.

I want to talk about this scene at the beginning of episode 12 of tristamp.

Because when I first saw it, heard it, I figured it was Vash speaking. And when it panned out to reveal Knives

I was surprised. And a little confused. It didn’t line up with what I, at the time, thought to be true of their characters. The more clear cut “good” and “evil” being the only version I’d ever really experienced. (Maybe 98 did a better job with Vash’s characterization as a child than I am remembering??? But I feel like it was pretty similar to tristamp??? Could absolutely be wrong but either way the point stands that based on my memory at the time the scene was odd to me.)

The scene is so brief and there’s so much other shit going on in the rest of the episode that it left my mind pretty quickly. Until I was reading through Vash and Knives’s backstories in trimax and texting my brother about how I had no idea how deep Vash’s character was in the source material. It was at that point that I told him I was honestly kind of miffed with the handling of his character in Stampede, as I felt it did a disservice to him. And he actually was the one to remind me that Orange has already demonstrated an enjoyment of unreliable narration in tristamp. Specifically I am thinking of hearing in episode 1 that Vash gave Knives the code he needed to take down the SEEDS ships vs seeing in episode 11 that he didn't give it to him for that purpose AT ALL and also the ending of episode 8 showing young teen Knives as scowling and standing tall vs episode 9 showing him rattled and on his knees (obviously we also still get the scowling later but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. PROBABLY.)

Anyways my brother and I kept talking about it and I was saying it's still weird that we see all those scenes of Vash being this like. Happy-go-lucky kid when that's not what you get from trimax until after the blank ticket talk. And he suggested what I am currently choosing to believe to be true: the sequence of events has been reordered. And flashbacks we get of like, their first birthday and stuff, actually take place after they find Tesla. (In Stampede’s canon I mean.)

This is the only other time we see kid Vash seeming more closed off/somber/whatever. Obviously Knives has already taken some sort of turn. He’s certainly not in finger guns mode anymore LMAO.

Obviously this is just wild and maybe ungrounded speculation at this point. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Orange pulls the rug out from under us a bit in season 2. And I sincerely hope they do.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Hi! We have a lot of replies related to our previous posts today, plus some random ones :) All twst-related, quite a lot of AzuIde ones.

Anonymous asked:

Hello hello! Just popping in to say I love your art before disappearing and lurking silently behind the screen and just liking your posts for the next few months! From one fan in a fandom populated with antis to another, thank you for your service in creating the tastiest pieces ever seen in the Twisted Wonderland fandom!

Hi Anon! Ahhhh thank you so much for your kindness and support, we really appreciate it! <3

You’re very welcome, and thank you again. We’re so lucky to have people who are into our stuff following and supporting us. Let’s keep having fun with this amazing cast and 19812739187 potential relationships and scenarios that they could have.

Anonymous asked:

In reference to the last question about Idia and Azul, when in their relationship did the comic about Idia losing the board game and being forced to, ahem, “compensate” for it take place? Were they a thing or was Azul just being a creep? 😅

(this is related to the first reply from here and this comic)

A little bit of both lol When I was drawing it, I had in mind that even if they weren’t dating by that point, they already had something. They’re already flirty, maybe even had sex a couple of times…

Which doesn’t mean that Azul isn’t being a creep mind you lol

Anonymous asked:

I saw a sketch you posted with fem!Idia and just plain old regular Azul and I was wondering if that changes their dynamic at all?

I actually did talk about it, but it was about a year ago, so I’ll reiterate!

For the majority of aspects of their relationship it would stay the same. But Azul is all about keeping appearances and creating a certain image to make a good impression (and then profit from it), so at times he’ll try to act like a perfect boyfriend (or even fiancée): he’d bring flowers, talk about inviting Idia to a romantic dinner. And it isn’t even 100% for Idia: it’s for everyone else to see how perfect their relationship is and to be jealous. He enjoys this role of a gallant princely… beau. Even though both of them know that Idia is (first and foremost) his friend who knows that he is as much of a nerd as she is… So Idia doesn’t play along.

Once again, it doesn’t happen all the time. For the most part they just play board games and talk shit about everyone, like they always do. But every once in a while they’ll start arguing because Azul wants his rich genius girlfriend to also look somewhat presentable, and Idia would absolutely hate that.

Then again, I guess Azul would do that to regular!Idia too…

Anonymous asked:

Dare I ask what Idia did that merited that “one little spank”?

(this is related to this comic)

He was probably being annoying lol Azul is that one person that Idia loves to poke, because he isn’t as terrified of him getting pissed at him. Well… maybe he should be.

Anonymous asked:

I know Idia is basically ass-less but I don’t think I’d be able to resist smacking it at least once just together his reaction. Hopefully, it doesn’t send him to the hospital….

Don’t worry, his ass (the lack of it?) is sensitive, but as long as you aren’t Azul or anyone else whose slap would break 30 bones, it’s all good! The prospect of hearing Idia’s terrified little “HIEE—!!“ is way too alluring.

artfulhero-m asked:

Your dick sucking headcanons got me thinking about how Azul can't because Azul be the kind of guy to put it in his mouth then immediately be able to tell exactly how long it's been since it was cleaned and also probably what that person last ate recently based off the pre and he is NOT risking his mood to be ruined because his partner's pre tastes like he was just chugging energy drink or something lol

(this is related to this post)

Omg yes absolutely. He has a lot of reasons not to want to put any dick in his mouth, and this is one of the major ones: he doesn’t need all that information, and he WILL judge that person and nag at him, especially considering that this certain someone chugs nothing but energy drinks…

characharing asked:

Riddle sucking like that hamster with the banana meme

Yes. Absolutely. Always. This is his spirit animal.

hipsterteller asked:

Rollo is probably bottom after seeing that art

(this is related to this art)

Yeah, he absolutely is… If being a bottom was a sport, Rollo would be a champion. And he is a virgin…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

Every student LOVE Rollo, like wet dreams, love letters, collections of his stuff, the usual highschool/collage romance

Of course! His vice president is super lucky to be able to hang out with him more than the other guys, but every student loves Rollo.

Anonymous asked:

Who do you think Vil had his first time with?

While there are a lot of possible scenarios, we tend to think that Rook was his first. We have an entire post about their first time together! Another possible option is Jack, I guess.

Anonymous asked:

New headcanon, Rook likes to wake up Vil in the morning with a kiss like Snow White. His lovely beautiful Roi du Poison deserves to be awaken in a romantic fashion.

Awww, this is so sweet!

And also much more romantic than to just have Rook staring at Vil until he wakes up… He should definitely do that, Vil deserved it.

Anonymous asked:

After re-reading book six I gotta ask: Any opinion on Azul/Riddle? Thought towards the end they were kinda cute together but also the way Azul pushed for riddle to be both a doctor and a lawyer felt very "I can use you in the future"

I talked about them in our post about book six, and also we have a hc post about them!

We don’t really ship it much, but their interactions really are great. And I also really like the fact that Azul considers Riddle useful, I am 100% sure that they’ll exist in each other’s lives even after graduating NRC, even if they won’t be romantically involved with each other.

Anonymous asked:

I hope to one day see Lilia go through all the bottoms and leave them all shaking messes 🙏

Grandpa is too old for this type of gymnastics..! Just kidding, he’ll leave them all shaking messes lol And THEN he’ll collapse.

You know, I think out of all of our “tops”, Lilia has the most potential bottoms ship-wise… him and Floyd, both of them have quite a harem due to their flirty nature.

So yeah maybe one day you will see Lilia going through all of them. I would like to see that…

[blood-injections]

Once in a while I’ll hyperfixate on my own aus and I’m like god this would be SO FUCKING GOOD IF I COULD JUST WRITE IT and I’ll sit back down and crank out a chapter if I’m lucky and then lose all ability I have to write and not touch it again for like two months so the specific one I’d love to post right now except when I do write it it’s. It’s not in order. I started in the middle and I now have like the two beginning chapters and I have a bunch of random scenes idk where they’d be yet and I have the end and there’s like maybe ten chapters but like the amount of the au they cover is so small the finished fic would have to be like fifty chapters at this rate. And each chapter is at least 3k words and so it’s like. I have the main shit figured out but it’s so hard coming up with the filler stuff so so it’s just a big block of very holey cheese and I want to post it but I can’t because I don’t have the beginning and I don’t want this specific one to be fucked up and out of order with funky flashbacks or the future as a start or whatever and then it goes back and tells the story like those are cool but this one I’m doing normal but ohh my god else wise I’d post it right now I’m obsessed with it. It’s that venom sib pornodroid au I posted about forever ago where it’s Pois and Kobra in the place of red and blue in the comics and poisons battery is dying so Kobra has to go and try to get a new one but they deny it because poisons an outdated model so Kobra shoots the dracs and just steals a battery and so they were already coming to recycle poison but now Kobra’s also wanted so they run away to the desert where yes they can still functuon they just like get cut off from the bat city internet system or whatever and they have to run off plus instead of like just plugging in like droids can in the city. But they always wanted to be killjoys were just too scared to risk it all try and escape and preferred to wait for destroya to come save them instead. But now they have no choice but they wanted ti be killjoys anyway so it works out and they get to the desert and choose their killjoy names and are exposed to like the culture and the freedom and all the different ways to say fuck you to BLi and learn that you can change more than just your name and poison embraces genderfluidity and kobra was a female model pornodroid but realizes he’s trans so fucking transgender pornodroid hell yeah. Also he figures out he’s a aroace and he really hates his past so he tries to forget about it and a couple months into life in the desert they meet Jet and ghoul because ghoul got shot like an idiot and jets stitching him up in the diner that was the first shelter they spotted and Kobra and poison come back from a concert or rave and find them there and they hang out a bit and become friends and then a crew and after a few months when poison has totally fallen in love with ghoul but lowkey hat themself because they know they’re not human and can never be and that ghoul would hate them if they knew their secret(Pois and Kobra are hiding that they’re androids. They’re so troubled lmao) and that ghoul could never love them bc they’re not human and they also don’t want to be used or seen as what he was seen as in the city which was a tool and a product not a person. So they’re terrified and so is Kobra but poison gets shot one day a few months into being a crew and tries to hide it but his systems are trying to shut off because they register the injury and he wants to get back to the diner to fix themself but of course ghoul notices that he’s hiding pain and he’s like are you hurt and poison holds out until they get to the diner but then ghoul grabs their wrist and is like I KNOW you’re hurt let us help you let me help you and poison tries to convince him he’s fine and he makes knowing he contact with Kobra who defends him but sounds like an asshole bc he’s like leave them be when they’re obviously not fine and ghoul won’t let him go but poisons blacking out and crying and his systems shut off right there in the foyuer and everyone freaks the fuck out

and Kobra has to take over the situation and fix poisons damage and when they come back online everyone’s like silent and staring at them and they’re fine and they’re like yeah I’m. Im a droid. And Kobra’s like we both are because if they’re going down they’re going down together. But of course ghoul and Jet are amazing and don’t care they’re the same killjoys they’ve come to call their crew it doesn’t matter where they came from they have feelings and shit just like everyone else. And its all okay and ghouls still freaked out because surprise surprise he’s also like madly in love with poison and is now torn becuase of this so when poison rests some more he goes and chainsmokes on the roof and thinks over but finds he really doesn’t care what poisons made of and when poison wakes up and goes up there just to stargaze he instead finds ghoul and they have a nice long talk and poison tells him about their past and reveals that they’re not just a droid but a pornodroid and they just bond and shit and it’s all okay and ghouls like you don’t need to worry I’ll gladly watch the sun rise with you forever becuase they’ve been out on the roof talking all night and poisons like sounds romantic and ghouls like is that alright and poison like blushes and is like of course and the finally kiss like two days later.

And all is well actually everything is great for a few more months until they get in a fight with Korse and he’s like oh look who it is our escaped pornodroids and he talks shit at them like they’re not people and also Kobra hasn’t told anyone he’s trans he’s happy just presenting and not revealing those personal things about himself and his past so only poison knows he was a female pronodroid and while poison has been in love and doing great he’s been still hating himself and his body and his past and he’s totes autistic and is always overwhelmed and shit and every once in a while when he feels himself reaching a limit he takes time to himself to go blow off steam and scream into the desert in the middle of nowhere and shoot stuff or go to a concert or whatever and just empty that overfilling bucket. And when Korse comes he’s already been stressed but then Korse taunts him and calls him terrible shit and he’s like trembling in place as he’s like do your little friends there know what you are? That you’re a product of BLi? A droid? A bitch? And he’s like barely restraining himself but then Korse says something in reference to poison and how they’re an outdated model and would’ve been melted down if the two of them hadn’t malfunctioned and he basically says like a slur as he says that stuff and Kobra sees RED and fucking GOES FERAL AND ATTACKS HIM. And Korse can’t even fucking do anything his gun gets knocked aside and Kobra’s living up to his name and striking like a a fucking viper and absolutely beating Korses face in until he’s like unrecognizable. He’s not even aware of this, it’s a meltdown, he just went into a trance and doesn’t brave out of it until poison like grabs him and he realizes he’s shaking like a leaf and sobbing and he gets pulled away from Korse and they leave and leave him to die because he’s basically on the verge of death(they should’ve shot him though because he does in fact survive) and Kobra is like exhausted now becuase of this meltdown and all his secrets being exposed at once and he rests when they get back to the diner while poison freaks out and stays by his side all night becuase they’ve never seen Kobra like that and didn’t know he was struggling but they should have and once again morning comes and they have a nice long talk and Kobra agrees to be more open with everyone and everything’s fine again and like within a couple weeks he and Jet have formed a queerplatonic relationship and he’s doing better and it’s basically happily ever after but that’s not the end no there like a few year time skip. And poison was already an outdated model when they escaped the city and Kobra was a newer model but now they’re both like ancient in android terms and the desert has taken its toll on their mechanics and their batteries aren’t holding as much power anymore just like when poisons battery died before they escaped the city. Poison starts deteriorating first, limbs becoming stiff and achy, rust in their veins. They know their systems are messed up and there’s not really anything they can do and theyre fucking terrified and once again they hide their problems, they don’t show that they’re aging. But then the glitches start happening and they’re harder to hide and after a while Kobra finally corners him and is like tell me what is going on. I know you’re not okay. And poison breaks down and says his systems are failing again and Kobra with like a haunted expression is like I know it’s happening to me too. But his state isn’t nearly as bad as poison is yet. And like poisons protective of Kobra because he’s their younger brother but Kobra’s even more protective of poison because he already had to watch them nearly die the first time around when their battery was dying and an androids battery dying is akin to a human starving to death but being physically unable to eat or take in any nutrients whatsoever. So he almost lost poison once and he’s not about to do it again, he’s super fucking protective of them and he’s like we need to tell the others and poisons like but I’m scared how do we even fix this,

we’re androids we’re not meant to last for more than a few years and Kobra’s like I don’t know I really don’t trust me I’m scared too but we need to tell them because they’ll figure it out soon anyway and they deserve to know either way and you’re already getting pretty bad and sooner or later so will I. So they sit down their respective partner and tell them and theirs a lot of tears and they all search for tech or upgrades and solutions but can’t find anything good enough and all of a sudden poisons getting real bad real quick, glitching all the time and battery running out faster, and they’re basically about to die again and Kobra feels kind of like he’s failed them and the four of them realize the only way they’re going to save poison and Kobra is if they go to the city. So they do. They sneak in, find the labs, the plan is to steal the tech they need, new parts, new battery’s, whatever they can carry. But a lot of the new stuff isn’t compatible with the older models, not without precious time being lost with the personalizations that would need to be done to the tech to make it compatible, time they don’t have with poisons condition worsening by the day and Kobra also slowing down considerably.

And then an alarm goes off and Jet and ghoul fight off the oncoming dracs while Kobra’s helping poison and he sees all the new models laid out and empty, not programmed quite yet. And he has an idea. Jet and ghoul fight off the first wave of dracs and come back in like we need to get out of here but Kobra explains his idea and they’re like fuck wrought because they can’t leave to make it work. So they all barricade themselves in the lab while Kobra hooks poison into the like machines there to essentially transplant their programming and consciousness into the shell of the brand new android models laying around, because that’s something possible and easier than retrofitting a ton of tech. More dangerous since they have to be in the heart of bat city to do it, but worth it. And while poison in those new body is charging and rebooting Kobra’s up next because he walked Jet and ghoul though the process and now he’s getting his consciousness transferred to a new body too(they make sure it’s a male model this time around :3) and it takes like and hour for them each to reboot with like all systems ready so Jet and ghoul are on their own, doors barricaded, waiting for their best friends to wake up.

But they do, and they fight their way out. They all earn a few injuries but they survive, barely escaping and getting out of the city. But they do, they escape, they get home, and Kobra and Poison are in brand new vessels, they look different but not that much, androids are all pretty similar looking, and you can alter your own appearance somewhat. Kobra’s finally in the body he always wanted so he’s great, and both models are brand new and super advanced so they’re still not really superhuman, but these bodies will definitely hold up a lot longer to the elements, and they don’t have to run off plus, Their batteries last longer and there’s different ways of getting energy, like from eating, where food they ingest is converted into biofuel and they can run off it. Physically they’re more inhuman but simultaneously also more human than ever before. And that’s the definitive happy ending.

[lovemesomesurveys]

This time last year, what was happening in your life? It’s pretty wild to look back at this time last year and have absolutely how badly things would take a turn in a couple months. I really wasn’t doing well health wise, but I never thought I’d wind up in the hospital for 3 months with everything so out of whack and almost dying twice (I did once).

Did you/will you have coffee or some other form of caffeine today? Of course I will. Ya’ll should know me by now. I have my Starbucks Doubleshot white chocolate energy drink right now.

Who did you last have a text conversation with and what was it about? My mom. She had asked me to do something for her and I had some questions about it. I also had to show her a couple things. 

Are there regular trains in and out of your town/city? Yeah.

Do you bathe your pets regularly? She gets bathed every few months. It’s actually better not to do it too often.

Do you have a mailbox or do you collect your mail from the post office? We have a mailbox. 

What was the last animal you saw, and was it a pet? Yes, I last saw my doggo. 

Have you ever had an ear infection? I have. They’re quite unpleasant. 

If you could watch any TV series right now, what would it be? I want to finish the rest of the new season of You. I watch it with my mom and brother, so with their varying schedules it can take us awhile to finish a show. If I were watching it by myself, I would have been done in two days (one day for the first half that was released and another day for the rest).

Would you have any clue when your best friend last got their hair cut? I think my mom cut her hair a couple months ago.

Someone messages you just as you’re about to go to sleep. Do you reply? A text message? I likely wouldn’t even check it. Or, I’d read it and not reply until later on. 

Do you grind your teeth, and if so, why do you do it? No. My doggo does and it’s really cringey because you can hear her teeth grinding together. 

Have you ever been hospitalized due to dehydration? Well, dehydration was part of it. It was a small part of many issues I had going on. 

Is there anything you need to remember to do before the day ends? Hmm. Nope, don’t think so. 

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? I like to be able to hear a little background noise to be aware in case something important happens or someone calls me. 

What’s your favorite online radio site? I very rarely use them anymore, but I do like Pandora. 

Do your parents have any authority over who you date? I mean, no, seeing how I’m 33 years old, but that being said their opinion very much matters to me. It’s important to me that my parents like them and they like my parents. If there were any issues or concerns, I’d want to hear them. Ultimately, it’s my decision but I would listen to what they had to say and take it seriously. I’d want to be able to work it out and not have any issues. 

How many different shades of nail polish do you have? Zero.

What did you have for breakfast this morning? My usual Cream of Wheat. 

Are you lucky enough to have an ice maker in your refrigerator door? I wouldn’t consider myself lucky if I had one or unlucky that I don’t. I don’t even use ice, so it doesn’t matter to me.

Are you the type to wake up before the sun has even risen? Some nights, even having taken my sleepy time meds, I wake up a couple times before the sun comes up. It’s super annoying. Thankfully. I typically go back to sleep, but I love the nights when I’m actually able to sleep all the way through. 

Have you ever watched an anime series, start to finish? I have, actually. I can’t remember what It was called at the moment, but it was a show a friend had gotten me into. 

Do you feel the need to rant about anything right now? If so, go for it. I mean, I certainly could, but I’ll spare you for now. 

Do you have a favorite towel? What color is it? No. 

Have you seen any films with Judy Garland in them?: I’ve only seen The Wizard of Oz. 

How did you feel when you woke up today? Why? >> tired. kind of sad. because that's just how it is sometimes? I don't know, man. <<<< Oh, do I understand that feeling all too well.

Who was the last person you messaged on Facebook? My mom.

When was the last time you saw them? This afternoon before she went to work.

Do you have a friend named Nick? What’s his favourite food? No.

What are you listening to? A YouTube video about Disneyland ride history. 

What year are you/did you graduate? I graduated with my BA in 2015.

Are you obsessed with anything? I tend to get that way with shows and movies I really enjoy.

Do you prefer waffles or pancakes? Mmmm, waffles.

Do you prefer non-diet or diet soda? Non-diet.

Do you like seafood? Blech, no.

Are you craving anything right now? My Doritos Locos taco that I’m about to eat.

Do you dress appropriately for your age? I think my leggings and oversized graphic tees are appropriate attire.

If McDonald’s sold hot dogs, would you buy them? Yeah, I think I would.  

How long is your hair? It’s choppy and short. My ends barely reach my neck.

Do you like your neighbors? I don’t have any issues with them. I don’t even know them.

What’s your school motto? --

Has a bird ever flown into your window?  Nooo.

Which word did you say first, mama or dada? I think I said, “mama”, first. 

How old were you when you learned to walk? I never got to that stage thanks to my accident at 7 months old that left me paralyzed from the waist down. 

What was your first pet’s name? His name was Buster.

How many kids were in your class in kindergarten? I think there were like 30 or so of us.

Who was your best friend in elementary? Back in the early elementary school days best friends kinda changed all the time. It was a very loosely used term. I’d say my real best friends I met in 5th grade. 

Who was the best athlete in your freshman class? I don’t recall. I didn’t pay attention to the sports stuff.

What teacher did all the high school boys/girls have a crush on? There wasn’t one to my knowledge.

Where do you see yourself in a year? I hope by this time next year I’ll actually be able to do things again, travel, and gain back my independence. 

If you were able to change one thing about yourself, what would it be? My stubbornness. The amount of issues its caused me that could have totally been avoided...

Are you content just blending in with the crowd? I never want to stand out in the crowd. I just want to do my thing, pay no mind to me. 

[devin27]

10/03/24

Crash

Since yesterday’s entry was so long, I’ll keep this one brief. I’m currently riding the train, headed home from work. A few days ago I got hit on the highway & it damaged something in the front end of my car. My dad got his mechanic to come to the house & start the repairs today, after a few days of waiting for some parts to arrive. Control arms, struts, & a new tie rod plus labor is definitely a bit of a financial pickle, but nothing I haven’t had to dish out before. Sometimes I miss those few years of adulthood when I didn’t have a car, between 2018 & 2022. It was nice not having a car note, insurance, gas, or maintenance draining your wallet monthly. But alas, I live in the United States, & public transit just doesn’t suffice in the long term.

The mechanic should be back tomorrow morning to finish things up & send me on my way, so I’ve got nothing to stress about. I’m grateful I didn’t have to be without a car longer than a couple of days. The bend of the tie rod after the wreck misaligned my axle & wore out my tires unevenly, though. When I walked out to my car yesterday evening, I was met with a completely flattened tire. (See the first attached photo). I’m used to it at this point, though. Tires have always been my Achilles heel when it comes to my car. It’s some kind of universal joke, or maybe a hex placed on me. At this point I just laugh along & deal with it. Better a new tire every 3-4 months than a broken windshield or anything worse.

On the subject of cars, I feel like I’ve had so many. I’m 27 but I can distinctly remember everyone I’ve had: a 2008 Dodge Stratus, a 2012 Pontiac G6, a 2014 Dodge Charger, a 2013 Chevrolet Impala, & currently a 2016 Dodge Dart. The Dodge phenomenon isn’t on purpose, I swear they just have a way of falling into my lap. I haven’t had the privilege of owning anything particularly impressive, but I’m one of those people that’s satisfied if I can get from point A to point B without a hassle.

Truthfully, I never knew much about cars. It’s something you notice a lot of guys are into, like some sort of exclusive membership only club that I could never breach. You could ask me my dream car & you’d be lucky if I even decided on a make, let alone a model. Don’t even ask me about the mods or the variants of the model, or whatever you’d call them. It’s a lost cause for me.

For a brief stint, I had a part time job as a valet at some nice steakhouses around the downtown metroplex. Within those 6 months I was exposed to a lot of luxury vehicles I never thought I’d step foot in. Some Porsches, some Ferraris, some Lambos, lots of Beamers, Rovers, Benzes, the whole nine yards. I’ll drop a few photos down below. That was a fun arc primarily because it served as exposure therapy for brands & models someone of my status might have never gotten to experience.

If manifestation matters, I suppose I should set my intentions towards something for my future in terms of a vehicle. I used to think Lexus sedans were nice (big dreamer, I know right /s), but if I aim a little higher, I definitely felt most comfortable in any Mercedes-Benz I found myself in. A nice little C-Class would feel fulfilling. Corvettes are cool too, but I’m not sure if I’d want a coupe.

If we keep it a little more realistic, I’d settle for an Accord or a Camry. They’re both pretty reliable in the long term, plus their designs are sleek & stylish these days. Truth be told I’m not that materialistic; objects are so impermanent that it’s hard to truly desire anything that I’ve already deemed as fleeting. Not to sound pretentious or anything. If cars are your passion, that’s genuinely valid. They’re historically relevant mechanical marvels. I’m the one on the outside looking in.

Love, joy, peace, & prosperity to you & your loved ones — Devin27 💌

P.S. — On the train ride home, I was listening to “Love Angel Music Baby” from Gwen Stefani, & one song in particular stood out as a strong companion to today’s post. Enjoy “Crash.”

[kats-chaotic-wonderland]

The tiny town of Merin Falls [Part 2]

The Attic

I’ll be honest I really wasn't sure when I'd get around to posting again, but this morning Iian mentioned something odd about the day he started working with me. That jarred a memory loose that I think I've been repressing, probably for a good reason. So here I am again.

To recap, as I'm sure you've heard before, I'll start by saying I live in a small town. It's settled in the northeast, a ways up from the Bridgewater triangle, and on the hill above a small bay. It's old, and has a history of witch trials and war battles. If you've ever seen a horror or Hallmark movie you've seen a town just like it. From calm summers to colorful falls, with old Victorian homes settled in old neighborhoods, complete with soccer moms and honor roll kids. This place is chock full of the American dream. It looks and operates like a normal New England town on the surface. Of course, I wouldn't be here if it actually did. There's a lot wrong with this tiny town of Merin Falls.

So, with the idea of the town refreshed in your mind, I’ll get on to my next story. This was a few months before that incident with Travis. I was sitting behind the counter at work, my head bobbing to the beat of the music churning out of the speakers overhead. I’d been working at *Binders and Beats* for a couple years at this point. It’s a small shop off the main square, run by an old married couple. The owners, a pair of sweet old men, are an attorney and a musician. They had given me the job after I helped them recover from that storm six years ago. Took hours to clean up all the snails. But, in the end the work and buckets of slime were worth it. We’d talked between scooping, and they offered me the job that I’m still in years later. The pay is pretty good, and the shop is more of a hobby for the musician than a real money mill.

If the name sounds off, that’s because it's a weird mix of a music shop, with instruments of all kinds, records and disks, and complete with sound booths off to the side of the counter. As well as an office supply store, binders, books, pens and the like. To top that mix off, the whole place looks like an earth bound and a hot topic had a mutated baby shop. The attorney is an ex hippie and wicca, still practicing, and his adorable squish ball of a husband was a hard core rocker who may have stalked Ozzy Osbourne, Sting, and who knows who else from the late eighties through to the late twenty tens. Needless to say my bosses are freaks and I’m living for it.

I usually spend about four days of the week behind that counter. From opening, around eleven am, to close at eight pm. For the first few months of my first year working for them, the owners would train and shadow me every day. Eventually though, they started leaving halfway through the day, then just helping me open or close, till about seven or so months in. At that point seventeen year old me was basically running the shop on my own. The owners only popping in occasionally when they felt like it. As I got into the swing of running this somewhat high end store on my own, there was something of a learning curve as I figured out some of the rules the owners hadn’t written down, or had the thought to mention. Things like don’t mess with the woman in the silver dress. Just let her hang around in the sound booth until she was finished screaming. Make sure that you shut the door when you take trash so the snails don’t get back in. If they do, close the store and clean the slime before it can stain and make damn sure you toss them all out back again. Wash the bucket and mop out back when you finish, and do not use bleach. Mr. Hannigan always needs a wooden violin bow. Do not sell him a plastic one. Ever. There was some trial and error, and many confusing nights. But after a while I got the hang of it, and my calls to the owners stopped being panicked and were more for formality. Lucky for me, we don’t get a ton of business.

This went on pretty uneventfully for about two years, that was until a black and grey badger with one bold hot pink stripe down her back, made off with a weird looking thing. Some kinda synth keyboard, small and like round. Apparently it's called a Qchord, and it’s not cheap. So yeah. After a hit like that, the owners decided I needed some help. Honestly, I was a little insulted at the time. For years I handled shoplifters, karens (Mrs. Miller in particular), bratty kids, and all the weird shit of this town. But the moment a talking badger in a crop top pulls one over on me, I suddenly need help?

Actually writing it out now, I was being pretty petty at the time. They were already generous with giving me weekends and Tuesdays off. But I know that was more for Arthur, he still has fun running the shop. And on the weekends Luther has time off to help him with it. I really should do something for them shouldn’t I? Anyway, I had handled assorted critters, and kept them from losing money. Hell I actually make them money, it's kinda funny really. Guess it makes up for the time they had me work when I was down with the collywobbles (not what you think. It’s just what Mrs.Hanning calls it). But I digress.

Getting saddled with someone new wasn’t something I was in any way excited about. And this long winded tangent brings us back around to where this story started. I was working my usual shift, bobbing along to the Half-Alive cd I had churning away. Alone, waiting for the new hire to come in. But it was maybe about four pm? I had pretty much given up and assumed they bailed. Just up and no showed, wouldn’t be a surprise. No one assumes this place pays well. It does, but I won’t be telling anyone that. I like my job, and my wage really isn’t their business. While I was rolling this thought around in my head though, my train of thought was unceremoniously flung through the air off its track, crashing into a wall along with a ***FLASH***, that was accompanied by a ‘*Click’* and a ‘*wrrrrrr’*. My eyes instinctively rolled as I heard the signature ‘*fwbwbwubub’* of a polaroid being shaken.

I must have been really lost in thought to have not heard him as he entered the store. He flounced up to my counter and perched himself right across from where I was chilling. His perfect teeth glinted in the black light as he gave me his usual smug grin, holding up a fresh polaroid in his fingers like it was a playing card. The smug bastard leaned nose to nose with me,”Sup Bitch. Looks like you dozed off again.”

Without breaking eye contact I snagged the photo and flicked him in the forehead. A satisfying ‘*thump*’ right between his orange soda eyebrows making him wince. “Piss off Iian. What did I say about me and pictures.” It wasn’t a question. Iian knew how I felt about that stupid hot pink rabbit camera of his. He’d dragged that thing for as long as I knew him, still does now that I think about it.

He just shrugged and raked his fingers through his hair, letting the ginger strands fall in a messy frame around his irritatingly perfect face,”Chill Am. It was a good shot.”

With narrowed eyes I looked at him, then the photo. He wasn’t wrong. I hate having my picture taken. But he had caught me at a good angle. The lights were a soft fluorescent glow behind me, framing my figure nicely. Chin propped on my hand as I leaned on the counter, face soft lost in my thoughts, staring at something far away. Hell, even my hair had settled in that intentionally messy way my bangs were supposed to lay, but hardly ever did, framing my face in a curtain of gold. The strands glowing with pink, blue, and purple fluorescent hues. With a sigh I shook my head and handed him back the photo.

“Fine. But just for your personal collection. If I see myself on your socials I will strangle you with my hair.” to make my point I ran a hand from the base of my ponytail to the end and used my other hand to snap it taut, like it was a rope wrapped around both of my hands.

His jaw dropped a bit,”Fuck Amber, I always forget how long your hair is.”

“Yeah, I don’t leave it down much do I?” I mused with a smirk as I let the mass drop. For context, I’m a chick. Was about nineteen at this point, twenty-three at time of writing and my hair is still stupid long. I stand at a nice six foot and some change, and my hair is at my ankles. Back then I think it was at my mid calf? Using it as a threat is something of a running gag with my friends, and I usually have it up in a tight bun so it doesn’t get caught on stuff. If it weren’t for Iian’s need to take photos of just about everything I probably wouldn’t even remember I had it down.

After that I moved on and made a passive comment about waiting for a new hire, and that I was sure they had just no showed. Iian was sitting cross legged on the counter fiddling with his camera by this point.

“Ya think so?” he mused, pulling back the sleeve of his pink hoodie. He always wears one that's at least four sizes too big. It drapes him in pink cotton and hangs off his shoulders giving him a look like those flowy actress robes lined with fur. The kind that old school actresses would pose around dramatically in.

“I mean yeah. It’s like four thirty. They’re hella late if they’re showing up.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oof. Well, guess I should call my dad huh? Let him know I’m late?” Iian grinned.

I’ll admit, it took me a few moments of the gears turning to catch what he meant. I stared, he stared. He waited, watching boredly for the light to click on. When it finally clicked I just blinked, once, twice. Then shook my head,”no fucking way.”

���Yerp.”

“You?”

“Uhuh.”

“Did you piss off Luther?” I asked incredulously.

He furrowed his brow at me and rolled his eyes,”No. Not every job I get is because I made Dad mad.”

“Well, there was the pool,” I started.

“Okay, I had to pay to fix the car, but that was because of the storm. How was I supposed to know it wasn’t water.”

“And the pet shop?”

“Caught with Ryan in the pool house. It was a totally innocent make out...mostly” A pink crept into his cheeks as he grinned like a fool.

“Uhuh.” I smirked,”what about the library?”

“Look if we’re gonna list all my jobs we’ll be here all day.” he huffed and hopped off the counter. I took that moment to sit on it myself and swing around to hop off on his side. Iian was the owner's son, and every time he got in serious trouble they would put him to work to earn money to pay for damages, or tickets, fees, or just so he learned not to fool around at school. Or in the case with his current boyfriend Ryan, at work. He’s a good guy, about a year younger than me, and has his own photography thing. Insta, patreon, all that jazz. He hadn’t been working in the shop up till this point because he wanted to work without family money. Instead of working he would hand around B&B using it as a place to get neat black light photos. This meant we spent a fair amount of time together, resulting in a rather catty friendship.

I landed beside him, my boots hitting the floor with a thump. But, there was a second thump. I looked at Iian, Iian looked at me, we both slowly looked up.

*THUMP*

I took in a slow breath,”Iian.”

He was still looking up,”Yes Amber?”

*THUMP*

“I’m going to find something horrifying in the storage room, aren’t I.” My sigh was heavy as I exhaled.

He nodded, still fixed on the ceiling,”Most likely.”

I nodded, took another deep breath, and then reached behind the counter. My fingers found the cold steel of the bat I kept there for any errant badgers, and the occasional stalker. Slinging the glowing hot pink hello kitty bat over my shoulder I turned to the back room door. Our store had three rooms for storage. There’s the back room where we have the fridge, coffee maker, ect. The basement, where we keep any maintenance equipment, and the attic where the owners kept the spare instruments, parts, and over stock office supplies. There wasn’t much in any of them at this point in time, mostly drum sets and a few dusty boxes of filler paper.

The stairs up to the attic were narrow, only room for one person to walk up. I say were, they aren’t there any more. I heard the thumps growing louder as I made my way to the door. Normally you’d be expecting the lights to flicker, or for the sound to stop as I neared. But no. It was like there was someone up there rummaging around for who knows what in all the over stock instruments. Taking a breath I put my hand on the knob, but before I could turn it, something grabbed my shoulder.

Reflexively I whipped around and decked the person in the cheek. Iian hissed and swore as he stumbled backwards. I grabbed his sleeve barely stopping him before he fell down the stairs. He just looked at me, his soft brown eyes watering with tears,”Fuck.” he hissed as he regained his footing.

“Sorry,” I shrugged letting go of him. I gave him a questioning look. He just held up his camera and pointed to the little light that did the flash, then to his eyes. I nodded, sorta getting it. Turning back to the door Iian readied himself behind me. Quickly I swung the door open, bat ready and looked into the room.

I don’t really know what I was expecting… An animal? Maybe a crazy person, or one of several assorted monsters. But I really wasn’t prepared for what we saw. It almost reminded me of a muppet. If the muppet had a fleshy face and no lips to hide it's mouth. A confusing mix of feathers and fur fell from the flesh mask. Foggy eyes set behind the skin looked around for us. I wondered for a moment if whatever this was, was blind. We stared silently as it milled around the room.

The things movements were somewhere between graceful and a constant stumble, like a kite being dragged by a toddler hopped up on pixie sticks and meth. It moved in random directions, knocking boxes over as it tried to...well whatever it was trying to do. I was just about to shut the door when Iian whispered,”Wait.” Mistake number one.

Then the thing turned to us, I elbowed Iian for getting it's attention. It swayed for a moment, then raised it's….I’m gonna say arm, but it was more like a noodle. Seriously, this thing looked like if hellraiser had muppets. Just as it did, a ***Flash***, from behind me as Iian took a photo. It screeched, a sound like shattering glass assailed our ears. I cursed and grit my teeth, then stepped in the room with my bat poised to swing. Mistake number two.

What I didn’t notice under the flock of feathers and willowy fur was a massive...claw? Bone blade? Spike thing? I have no idea, it was long, sharp, and heading for my head. Lucky for me Iian decided the best way to help was to plow right into me, sending us both into a nearby bass drum. We watched at the spike sunk into the wall, leaving a massive hole, and a crack halfway down to the floor.

With more than a little awkwardness I untangled myself from the drum, and Iian, and scooped up my bat. With one good swing I felt it collide with the things head. It screeched and stumbled to the side. I heard a snap as it's noodle arm went limp and fell from it. The appendage wriggled and leaked something blue. I gagged, then felt something brush past my cheek. Looking up I was met with a feather noodle. My eyes trailed it to the wall, the other spike had just missed my head. Bat in hand I went to give it another good wack. Instead I saw Iian with a big brass cymbal, with a heave he hoisted it up and slammed it down on the muppets twisted flesh face. It crumpled into a heap of feathers and blue goo. Breathing heavy he dropped the cymbal into the mess and stepped over it toward me.

“I think,” he started between heavy breaths,”We need to call dad.”

I nodded, staring at the pile,”Yeah….probably.”

We closed the door and barred it with a steel mic stand. Luther and Arthur came as soon as they got our call. Arthur burst through the door when they arrived, he went straight to Iian and looked him over.

“Oh my baby boy!” he looked over his son like a frantic mother,”Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine dad,” Iian said softly trying to calm his father.

He held Iian’s hands,”I am so sorry, we rushed over as quickly as we could,” then he turned to me. I hate to admit it, but I actually flinched. He just put a hand on my cheek and looked me over,”Amber dear are you alright?”

I nodded, a little ashamed at my reaction, old habits die hard,”I’m okay sir.”

He gave me a sad smile,”You don’t need to call me sir, you know that.”

“Sorry, I’m okay Arthur, I promise.” I smiled tiredly.

He smiled and hugged me,”Good, now you two go relax. We called Cher, she has food ready for you at the shop.”

I remember my cheeks heating at his suggestion,”You didn’t have to…”

“Oh shush.” Luther interrupted ruffling my hair,”You both need a break, we’ll clean up here. Go see your friends.”

Iian gave me an eyebrow wiggle and I rolled my eyes. We grabbed our things and walked across the street to 'Pressed Pages,' the local bookstore and coffee shop. As we entered the smell of coffee and pancakes hit us. I couldn’t help but smile, that place always puts me at ease. Behind the counter Cherri was in her usual place, pot in hand pouring a cup of coffee. Anxiety gnawed at my nerves seeing her. As always she looked up as she set the cup down and smiled, I love her smile.

“Hey Amber!” her voice was cheerful, joy always radiates from her like sunlight, infecting those around her like flesh eating virus.

I offered her a weary smile as I walked to the counter,”Hey Cher, how are you?”

“Better than you apparently.” her voice had a tone of concern,”Arthur said you had a break in?”

“Well…” rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly I tried to think of how to explain exactly what happened,”It was the uh...Merin Falls kind of break in.”

She nodded understandingly,”Ah, weird as shit.” With a shake of her head she handed me my usual,”Well, a warm drink and a full tummy can fix a lot of problems.”

A lopsided grin formed as I took it,”What would I do without you.”

“Suffer,” she shrugged with a casual grin,”And probably starve, seriously do you eat anywhere else?”

“Eh, sometimes.” I wobbled my free hand,”I can cook, so I eat at home on my days off.”

Cherri’s eyes got a mischievous glint in them and she leaned towards me across the counter,”Well maybe I can try your cooking sometime.”

See, this was another one of those, my brain is dumb moments. You’d think that I would have said literally anything smooth, or at least have said sure. But no, what I said was so incredibly stupid, that even four years and a few hundred dates later, I still kick myself for it.

I blinked once, then twice, as I tried to process the implications. But for some reason, it just didn’t click,”Why?” I asked dumbly.

Her coy grin deflated almost instantly,”I thought you’d…”

Thankfully for my sake, Iian jumped in,”She’d love to Cher, she’s just dumb.” he butted between us and slung an arm around my shoulder,”How about next saturday?”

Cher looked relieved as she looked at him, then up at me,”If you’re okay with it I’d love to.”

Iian smacked the back of my head and shook me out of my daze,”O-oh, yeah! Absolutely, want me to pick you up or?”

I’ll spare you the details of the rest of this awkward interaction. Needless to say the date went well. Going back to what brought me to this story, I mentioned that I had been repressing the part with the attic. Well today, Iian brought in the picture. Once I touched it, the trigger sent me rushing back to that day.

Thing is, we don’t have an attic. The building is one story. And in all of the photos Iian has, it always has been. He found the photo tucked away in a box, with the date on the back.

What’s weirder, Cherri had a painting tucked away in her closet. With the same date. She doesn’t remember seeing the photo, and we didn’t tell her the story.

I’ll probably have more for you all soon. Halloween is just a few days away, and it’s a big deal here. We don’t really have internet from the 29th-1st, so I’ll be offline until after it’s over. I’m Amber Haze, and I’ll be back soon with more from the tiny town of Merin Falls. Hopefully.

(Side note, I'm talking with Iian about finding a place to put scans of some of the photos in these

stories. We're still talking about the best way to do it, but hopefully you all will get to see what haunts my nightmares too. What joy.)

Master post

Horror master post

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Part 1

Part 3

[feeling-low]

It’s been a tough few days…

So Id finally started moving on. Aside from him collecting the last of his stuff I had no reason to talk to my ex. I finally found someone better!

My now partner has been a friend for 6yrs! He helped me through both my break ups! He’s always been there when I needed someone. He’s supported and cared for me, during those few tough months he’d go on long walks with me and sit with me as I cried over my ex. He’d make me laugh and smile and unleash my inner child. I felt so much better when I was with him. But still never thought of him as anything more than a good friend…until I returned from my holiday and we’d talked about how good we could be. We have similar interests and want all the same things in life. We compliment and support each other, so we tested the waters a little to see if there could be more to us, and eventually decided to make it official and things have been great!

For the first time in my life I’m being treated like an equal, it feels unnatural to be treated so well! After dating 2 narcissists, being with someone who allows me to be myself feels amazing!

But I got a message from my ex 3 days ago, he was going to come and get the last of his stuff. I, stupidly, care too much and felt I had to ask if he’s ok and life is good…then he told me he’s getting married next year!!!

Considering he only moved out 9 weeks ago, even during the break up said he had no interest in dating anyone for a while, he was going to be broken after this…I questioned a photo of him and this girl (whom I was Facebook friends with) looking coupley she’s “just a friend, doesn’t know why it looks like a couple photo, no interest in anything more…” eventhough id suspected her from the beginning. And for 4yrs of us being together he told me he “never wants to get engaged again because that’s when things go wrong” and would never get married, I gave up on my lifelong dream of getting married, although I spent months choosing an engagement ring I was going to give after our holiday (that never happened) on the off chance he’d say yes, all of a sudden he wants to get married!!!

Clearly he was seeing her before we were completely over, while he and I were still sleeping together! God knows how long it was going on for. But things made sense at last. But to get engaged so quickly…and then to see her post of what he said, “I finally found someone worth it”, fuck me did that hurt!

I thought better of him! I never thought he could be that much of a heartless and malicious c***! It won’t last, everyone knows it, you can’t suddenly get married so quickly and expect it to work out! So much for “I have so much respect for you, I’d never want to hurt you…” Bull f***ing s***!

I put him first, always! Everything I did was to make him happy! I sacrificed so much and would’ve died for him! But he’s proven, once a cheat always a cheat! He’s the one that’s not worth it! A relationship built on lies and secrecy is doomed to fail!

I’m better off, and I know that! But given how much I loved and cared for him, for him to see me as worthless! F*** that shattered me! Talking to my mum on the phone about it, I almost puked 3 times! I sat with my current partner and bawled my eyes out…over my ex!!!

It’s not fair to him. It’s not right that it still breaks me. I felt unworthy of his love, because clearly I still have some love left for my ex. Real love doesn’t just die and I was madly in love with him, I was blinded by it! But me and my new partner have always been friends first, and he’s amazingly accepting and understanding. He tells me I’ll heal eventually and it’s worth waiting for. I don’t deserve him, but he sat with me and tried his best to reassure me he’s not going anywhere no matter what. I don’t know how I got so lucky!

The p**** didn’t even turn up for his stuff! Talk about dragging it out! And after I’d left a lovely therapeutic note with it! I’ve written out so much about how I’m better off without him. I don’t hate him, or regret the relationship but I’m so glad I never fell pregnant with his child! And never got the chance to propose! He’s not worthy of the love I have to give!

[survey--s]

570.

This time last year, what was happening in your life? Life was pretty much the same as it is now, really.

Did you/will you have coffee or some other form of caffeine today? So far today I’ve had a coffee, an iced coffee and a can of Pepsi Max.

Who did you last have a text conversation with and what was it about? Suzanne. It was just about whether she wanted me to walk Charlie on Friday. She said I didn’t have to but as I have to walk Archie anyway I may as well take Charlie and get paid for it lol.

Are there regular trains in and out of your town/city? There are, but I’ve never been on one.

Do you bathe your pets regularly? The dog gets a bath every 2-3 months. I’d never even risk putting any of the cats in the bath lol.

Do you have a mailbox or do you collect your mail from the post office? We have a letterbox in the front door, but we get parcels sent to my in-laws and collect them from there.

What was the last animal you saw, and was it a pet? At the moment I can see Simba climbing on the dining chairs lol and yes, he’s our latest addition - a 10 week old ginger kitten.

Have you ever had an ear infection?  Yes, a few times unfortunately. I get waxy ears and when it gets impacted I end up with an infection.

If you could watch any TV series right now, what would it be? I’m happy with Motorway Cops on in the background.

Would you have any clue when your best friend last got their hair cut? I think he got it done about a month ago.

Someone messages you just as you’re about to go to sleep. Do you reply? It depends on the person and the message.

Do you grind your teeth, and if so, why do you do it? No. The idea makes me shudder lol.

Have you ever been hospitalized due to dehydration? No, but I’ve fainted from it a couple of times.

Is there anything you need to remember to do before the day ends? I just want to get my blanket washed as I’m house-sitting next week and like taking it with me for the evenings so I can sit out in the garden.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? I don’t really like using headphones.

What’s your favorite online radio site? I don’t use any. I just use Spotify or YouTube for music online.

Do your parents have any authority over who you date? No. I’m 34 and married.

How many different shades of nail polish do you have? Not very many - maybe four?

What did you have for breakfast this morning? Peanut butter on toast, a glass of apple juice and a mug of coffee.

Are you lucky enough to have an ice maker in your refrigerator door? No but the house I’m sitting in from tomorrow has an ice-maker and it’s one of my favourite things about staying there LOL. 

Are you the type to wake up before the sun has even risen? Nope, definitely not.

Have you ever watched an anime series, start to finish? Nah. I’m not into anime.

Do you feel the need to rant about anything right now? If so, go for it. No, not really. I got my rant out this morning.

Do you have a favorite towel? What color is it? Yeah, it’s just a huge white one.

Have you seen any films with Judy Garland in them?: Only The Wizard of Oz.

How did you feel when you woke up today? Why? Groggy, just because I was in a really deep sleep.

Who was the last person you messaged on Facebook? Hannah.

When was the last time you saw them? Months ago. I just walk her dog for her occasionally so we never really see each other in person.

Do you have a friend named Nick? What’s his favourite food? I wouldn’t say we were friends but my old boss was called Nick. His favourite food was steak.

What are you listening to? Motorway Cops is on but it’s mainly for background noise.

What year are you/did you graduate? I graduated university in 2011.

Are you obsessed with anything? Wax melts much to Mike’s annoyance, lol.

Do you prefer waffles or pancakes? Waffles.

Do you prefer non-diet or diet soda? I prefer Diet Coke, but non-diet fruit flavoured stuff.

Do you like seafood? Most of it, yeah.

Are you craving anything right now? I’d love a cheeseburger from McDonald’s, but I’ll live. <--- ooh, that sounds good lol.

Do you dress appropriately for your age? I mean, what do you consider appropriate for a 34 year old? lol. I mostly wear leggings and tunic tops or sweaters if I’m not at work.

If McDonald’s sold hot dogs, would you buy them? They did at one point. Anyway, probably not - I’m not a fan of hot dogs.

How long is your hair? It reaches just above my boobs when it’s straightened.

Do you like your neighbors? I don’t really have anything to do with them, but they’re decent enough as far as neighbours go. Not too noisy and generally keep to themselves.

What’s your school motto? I’m not in school.

Has a bird ever flown into your window? Nope.

Which word did you say first, mama or dada? I have no idea.

How old were you when you learned to walk? Quite young I think, but I couldn’t tell you the exact age.

What was your first pet’s name? Kittens called Gizmo and Athena.

How many kids were in your class in kindergarten? Uhh, I think around 30 in our year group but it was generally split into two.

Who was your best friend in elementary? Lucy, Stephanie, Linnet and Becky.

Who was the best athlete in your freshman class? Probably Emily.

What teacher did all the high school boys/girls have a crush on? One of the art teachers - then he was found having an inappropriate relationship with a student and got fired lol.

Where do you see yourself in a year? I never think that far in advance - anything could change in a year.

If you were able to change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I wish I didn’t have anxiety.

Are you content just blending in with the crowd? Yeah, for sure. I hate being the centre of attention and I would absolutely hate to be well-known lol.

[arverst-aegnar]

Not anon, but this is ... well, it's basically what you wrote up there, just in different words.

I'd like to say "to be continued", but i've got so many other things i'm working on right now that that would be unjustified optimism. But if someone else feels inspired and wants to run with it, go ahead.

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

The first time he saw the photo, scrolling through his feed, Aang thought he had imagined it. But he had been staring at it for five minutes now, and it was as unmistakable as it was incomprehensible.

The couple in the photo beamed at the camera like they had just won the lottery: cheeks flushed, eyes shining, wide smiles. Zuko's chin rested on top of Katara's head, which was pressed to his chest, her left hand splayed out to show off her glittering ring. The comments underneath were full of “Congratulations!” and “About time!” and “So happy for you!” and “You guys are perfect for each other!”

Perfect for each other? Aang couldn’t understand how anyone would think that. Last time he had seen them, they couldn’t stand to be in the same room together. (Well. Not so much the actual last time he’d seen them, but that had been under … extenuating circumstances.) Now that he thought about it, it had been a long time since he’d seen either of them: almost a year, in fact. But that was hardly enough time for them to get engaged.

He clicked on Katara’s page, half-expecting to find it was all a joke or a prank or something. Instead he found --

I’ve never spent my birthday surfing, eating ice cream, and stargazing over a fire on the beach before! Best part, though? Spending it with my amazing boyfriend who set it all up for me. I love you so much, babe!

Fell asleep at my desk, working on my latest case (what else is new?). I stumble out into the kitchen to try to pull myself together enough to go into work, and find Zuko in my kitchen making tea to go along with the doughnuts he picked up. How did I get so lucky, to find someone who takes such good care of me? <3

Is your boyfriend man enough to take over crocheting a baby blanket because your grandmother’s arthritis is flaring up? Mine is. 

Only sixty-three more hours until Zuko comes back from his “super-manly, dudes only” hunting trip with Dad and Sokka, but who’s counting? (Me. I’m counting.) 

Dinner at The Badgermole to celebrate Zuko’s birthday!! Thanks to everyone who helped me plan for this and keep it all a surprise!! 

On my way to Ember Island with the new CEO of Jasmine Dragon International for the opening of the first international Jasmine Dragon location! Zuko, you’ve been working incredibly hard to get everything ready, and I know your uncle is as proud as I am of what you’ve accomplished!

Coffee from Aunt Wu’s with Zuko to celebrate my first day at the new job!! Don’t tell Uncle.

If you’d told me a few months ago I’d be here, laughing so hard soda is coming out of my nose, I would never have believed you. It’s been an incredible, amazing, crazy first month with you, Zuko Rokura, and I can’t wait to see what comes next. <3

Almost every post was accompanied by a photo: her page was full of photos, mostly of her and Zuko. That was weird enough by itself – Zuko had always protested when other people tried to take his photo, and tried to hide in the background or something if he couldn’t get out of one – but for someone Aang had always thought of as grumpy and closed-off, he was smiling in an awful lot of them. He’d never liked physical touch, either, shying away even from Mai when the two of them were dating, but almost all of the pictures showed him and Katara hugging, holding hands, cuddling, kissing … 

Something unpleasant curdled in Aang’s stomach.

Zuko’s page was private, but a bit of searching found his personal Hawky account. There weren’t nearly as many tweets –

here's my list of places i can/cannot take my gf to on Ember Island, please rec places with NON-SPICY and/or SWT options

things wrong with @paintedlady: - so pretty i can't breathe when i look at her - compliments me too much - cold toes

blue, the autumn sky ocean waves in a typhoon your eyes in moonlight

-- but Aang didn't think he wanted to read much more anyway. He set his phone aside, and decided to avoid social media for the rest of the day, maybe even the week. 

It didn’t make much of a difference. Looking at the houses as he walked Appa had him thinking about where Zuko and Katara were planning on living. He stopped by the store to pick up some muffins and tea so he wouldn’t need to grab something before work in the morning, and wondered when Katara had got that new job. The way the sun glinted off the colored glass outside the crystal shop brought back that first terrible photo, with the beautiful shining ring on Katara’s hand that Aang knew would take him six months to afford, maybe more.

Was that why she and Zuko had gotten together? Surely not. Katara didn’t care about money like that. At least, the Katara he had known a year ago hadn’t.

When he picked up his phone again, it was lit up with notifications. Maybe some of his old friends were trying to get in touch, mend bridges, because of the engagement. He cringed in anticipation. 

He felt a combination of relief and exasperation upon seeing it was just a bunch of messages from his girlfriend.

Mai: (3:30pm) Ready to die of boredom after today. Dinner?

Mai: (3:47pm) Where are you?

Mai: (3:52pm) Don't tell me you're sulking about your ex. 🙄

Mai: (4:25pm) Is your phone dead?

Mai: (4:33pm) Whatever. If you have a clean suit, meet me at Bosco's. If I'm in a good mood by the end, we can get drinks at my place.

Aang sank into the couch, staring at the last text. He'd told Mai about his meeting with the financial advisor last week, and he knew she hadn't missed it when his third credit card declined at that boutique shop the other day. He'd only just gotten his first paycheck from his new job, and it wasn't enough for half an appetizer at Bosco's. And if she was already annoyed with him, he knew she would be ordering one of the priciest entrees on the menu -- where did she think the money was going to come from?

Picking up on his master’s unhappiness, Appa whined and thrust his muzzle onto Aang’s lap. He reached down and stroked the fuzzy white head. “I’m okay, buddy,” he murmured.

As he settled into petting Appa, Aang closed his eyes.

“Hi, sweetie!” Katara greets him with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. “How was the dog park?”

“Great! Appa made a bunch of new friends, didn’t you, boy?” The dog is giving Katara his own hello, which makes detaching the leash a little tricky, but Aang manages. His girlfriend giggles as Appa eagerly licks her face, which makes Aang laugh, too. He’d never doubt Appa’s loyalty, but there’s no denying he loves Katara almost as much as Aang does.

Katara eventually nudges Appa down. “How does pad thai for dinner sound? I made extra in case you wanted to take some for lunch tomorrow.”

Aang slides an arm around her waist as they walk to the kitchen and pulls her to his side. She fits perfectly. “I really worked up an appetite chasing Appa around the park today. I might just eat all of it!”

She snorts. “Okay, Sokka.” Aang laughs. “But I may have made some egg custard tarts for dessert, so keep that in mind.”

The table is already set and two plates ladled high with pad thai, fresh seaweed rolls, and Aang’s favorite dipping sauce. He pulls out Katara’s chair for her, and plants a kiss on her hair as she sits down. In between bites, they talk about their day, the coming week, and about whether Momo is getting fat.

“I was thinking about inviting Zuko and Mai over for dinner sometime,” Aang says, watching his girlfriend’s face carefully.

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t know what Mai sees in him. Zuko’s such a jerk.”

“He’s really not that bad, once you get to know him.” Aang reaches out to take her hand. “But I won’t ask if you really don’t want them to come. I could just meet them for coffee or something.”

He watches Katara consider, idly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She can be stubborn and hot-headed sometimes, but he trusts the sweet, caring side of her will win. 

After a long minute, she shakes her head. “Thanks, Aang, but it’s your decision who you invite to your apartment for dinner. If you want to invite Zuko and Mai over, then I guess I’ll just have to find a way to be nice to him for an evening. Even if he is a jerk.”

Aang smiles. He’s not planning on it being just his apartment for much longer, but that conversation can wait for another day. “I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior.”

He insists on clearing the table, and Katara pulls the tray of egg custard tarts out of the fridge. When he suggests a movie, he can tell she knows he’s really suggesting they cuddle on the loveseat and get distracted by feeding each other bits of egg custard tarts, but the sparkle in her eyes and the upward twist of her lips tells him she doesn’t really mind. 

Aang loses track of the movie fifteen minutes in. There’s egg custard on his shirt and in Katara’s hair, but they’re too busy giggling like teenagers to care. He cups her face in his hands, gently, reverently, cradling her like the precious gem she is, while she looks up at him with adoration. When he leans in to kiss her, the world around him disappears. It’s just him and her, like it’s supposed to be. Forever.

The sound of Momo knocking something off the coffee table jolted Aang out of his daydream. With a groan, he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t know what hurt worse: remembering that it wasn’t real, or that it never had been.

He hadn’t appreciated Katara properly. He knew that now. She’d been taking care of him for so long, he’d just assumed that’s how it always would be. She’d made it look easy, cooking and cleaning and shopping for the both of them, so he thought he could manage on his own. He’d been taken in by Mai’s glamor and thought if he did things her way, he would be more sophisticated, more mature. He’d been an idiot.

Aang pulled out his phone, and scrolled through his feed until he found the announcement again, and with it the information he wanted. In his first uncomprehending encounter, he had missed the tentative wedding date.

Six months. He had almost exactly six months to fix his finances, break up with Mai, and win back his forever girl.

I keep thinking about a cheating Flying Dagger.....

Zuko breaks up with Mai/Katara breaks up with Aang and so here is Aang now living with Mai and he's now realizing how much Katara actually did

Mai hates cleaning, cooking, and would rather spend the $$ to pay a maid, would rather eat out at expensive places and so on... Aang now has to really be responsible for things he never really gave a second thought towards

He really misses Katara, his friends are obviously pissed at him. He probably only knows what's going on in Katara's life thanks to friends of friends/social media and learns shes now with Zuko

First of all, thanks for using Flying Dagger. Together we can make this a thing!

Second, this sounds amazing. If you write this, puh-LEASE tag me in it!!!

[daveblume]

Remembering Craig

Today was something called 'Homeless Memorial Day," meant to acknowledge if not honor those who die in the streets or in the beds of hospitals, clinics or shelters. I only found this out after I had ridden over to the 405 at Roscoe and spoke with Hillary and another fellow living in a small cluttered and dirty tent on the sidewalk, who confirmed what Gracie told me last week, that Craig White had indeed passed away, months ago they said it happened. He had finally agreed to hospitalization at Valley Presbyterian Hospital, and died later in some facility on Ventura Blvd.

 Craig was a fuckup, no question, and today I won't post the worst images I have of him (legs burnt from accidentally setting his tent on fire, or totally strung out, unkempt and bedraggled). As sad as it was, and as difficult as it was, to watch his gradual decline, from a humorous former child actor to a bent-over shell of himself, ravaged by viruses and addictions, something Hillary-- who knew him for 15 years-- said as she looked straight into my eyes there on sidewalk, really hit home. Quite simply, she reminded me that he was a kind person, with a good heart. Everyone should be so lucky to have someone eulogize them that way-- many a rich man will not be so fortunate.

We had our disagreements-- how he angrily chastised me when I tried to convince him to get into an EMT vehicle a couple years ago when his open MRSA wounds were oozing and he was shaking like a leaf; then a few days later he told me to leave him alone for good, which started a separation that lasted almost a year, until we crossed paths again in friendship. More importantly, I'll remember his boy-like excitement, for example when a Good Samaritan dropped off some European biscuits, and he offered me one with the exclamation, "these are some high-end cookies!" But mostly, I'll remember how I ran into him on the sidewalk in 2017 after returning from a month in China, where I had been making presentations at various universities on the subject of American homelessness, of the work I'd created featuring Craig and the others in his vagabond "family." Seeing him walking alone down the same old sidewalks, I choked up, partly in frustration and partly in shame that while I'd been using his images and video-- in exhibitions as well-- for him nothing had really changed. Sure it was partly his own fault, for not having the wherewithal to overcome his vices, but that didn't stop me from feeling helpless and useless and every bit the voyeur I've always tried not to be. The concern on his face as he comforted me? THAT was Craig White, RIP...