#which in no way contains any actual dogs

[vanmarkus]

Wip Wednesday 🎄

I shared a small tidbit from this yesterday, but here's a little longer one this time 💕

Eddie was holding a bag of M&Ms in one hand while twisting garlands around the railings by the stairs with the other. They were putting up the Christmas decorations around the station during a lull and while Eddie was all for the Christmas spirit, the garlands didn't seem too keen on cooperating.

“Pass me one?” Buck walked up to him, both his arms tangled up in a big knot of Christmas lights and on the top of his head, pushing into his perfectly coiffed hair sat a frankly ridiculous hairband with a set of floppy white ears, decorated by big black blotches to resemble a dalmatian.

“What are you wearing?” Eddie frowned at the dog ear hanging down just beside his birthmark.

Buck looked up like he could see the top of his own head if he just tried hard enough. “Must’ve been left here from Halloween. Cute, right?”

"Sure."

Well, it was cute.

That still didn't explain why he felt the need to put it on, but Eddie had more important things to worry about, namely the damned garland that kept on slipping off of the railing and bunching up on the bottom.

“So, are you gonna give me one?” Buck tried again, eyeing the small bag of candy in Eddie’s hand.

“Ask nicely.” Eddie quipped, mainly just to be a little shit but as always, Buck was game.

He ducked his chin, jostling the dog ears on the top of his head and batted his eyelashes a little cartoonishly, then after an elongated whine of pretty please, he stuck his tongue out expectantly.

Eddie rolled his eyes and plopped a big green one onto Buck’s tongue. “Here.”

tags under the cut 💛

I was tagged by the lovely @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 and @malewifediaz mwuah mwuah 💛

✨and totally no pressure tagging: @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998

[ceilidho]

soap developing an unhealthy attachment to his therapist post his brush with death after being shot at point blank range. he was reluctant to see a therapist at first because he didn't like what it said about him that he was being more or less strong armed into seeing a shrink (like no one trusts him anymore; they don't think his head's on straight since being shot), but as time goes on, he grows to cherish the relationship he's cultivated with his therapist because,

well,

she understands him. she listens to him. where everyone else seems to want him to just hurry up and get better (the nightmares, the mid-sentence brain fog, the erratic mood swings, the silent brooding when he can't find the words, aphasia on the tip of his tongue, the constant, constant headaches and auditory hallucinations that he can't seem to kick), she doesn't put any pressure on him to heal right away. she works with him and his medical team; gives him the space to process what happened to him, and has a seemingly bottomless wealth of patience for him.

he can talk for hours in her presence. it's a shame their time together is limited to an hour and a half every week. the dulcet sound of her voice is such a comfort to him. it's a shame she politely but firmly rejects his advances when he finally asks her out, tells him that it wouldn't even be appropriate for them to be friends outside of his sessions. that it would in some way hinder his healing journey. which pisses him off because Soap has progressed in leaps and bounds since those early days when he used to stumble over his words sitting on the couch across from her, head in his hands when the language felt beyond his grasp, a fine tremor still running through his hands that he's since managed to contain,

and

his head is throbbing again. a sharp pain above his eye that pulsates like a drum in his head and -

he thinks about her constantly. in and out of sessions. she's a frequent topic of conversation when the brass finally lets him back out in the field, Makarov finally dealt with (resting six feet deep in an unmarked grave). he ignores the looks oscillating between concern and worry that Price gives him. ignores the way Ghost barks at him to quit bothering the bird in the tight skirt and fuck someone that won't get him discharged. ignores the way Gaz pulls him to the side to ask if maybe he needs to see another therapist, y'know, mate...get some distance.

they act like this is something new. an abberation and not his very nature. like he hasn't always been the type to lock onto a scent like a hunting dog. a sniper by training. he sits and he watches and he waits; waits for the right moment that he alone knows.

it comes to him on an inauspicious day, when he's leaving the training facilities and spots his sweet thing rummaging around in the boot of her car, her ass beckoning him forward like a siren's call. now, now, now, the little itch in his head says, the voice that knows when the time is right. it's a sense acquired through conscious and unconscious observation, letting it all filter into his frontal cortex until he knows without knowing that the parking lot is empty apart from the two of them and the men at the base gates half a mile away.

it would take nothing for him to come up behind her and push her into the boot. nothing to wrestle the purse from her hands and slam the trunk shut. nothing to drive off base with a flick of his fingers to the guards that hardly ever bother to question him before he leaves (though they know what car he actually drives), made complacent by familiarity.

and he knows that it's wrong, knows that there's a line that he shouldn't cross, that choices have consequences, but,

his mouth salivates when her hips twitch, the urge to take settling over him. surely they'd forgive him one indiscretion.

[headspace-hotel]

It's important to not force your human morals onto non-human nature, like "this creature, since it disgusts me, is bad" or "this creature, since it has behaviors I interpret as sweet and heartwarming, is good"

But if you study nature whether in life or in profession, nature will make you feel disgusted and uncomfortable, it's not necessary to act as if those feelings don't exist within you, because they are part of your encounter with the otherness of nature, and contain sensitivities that can be sharpened into their own ingredient to knowledge and awareness

Coexisting with discomforting parts of the reality of Nature without trying to resolve them into a moral or aesthetic framework you are happy with, reflects maturity

It is no good to "redeem" a hated animal if the redemption is another false idea of the animal as innocent and good. This implies that a creature's "goodness" is a valid reason it deserves existence. It is also no good to treat a beloved animal with hatred to make things fair.

A good example is with dolphins and sharks, dolphins were seen as good and cute and almost human, whereas sharks were seen as bloodthirsty killers, and this has cost the lives of sharks while dolphins are given more sympathy, so some people have tried to turn it around, portraying sharks as gentle and good while pointing out that dolphins can be violent and rape other dolphins.

A lot of dolphin behaviors are certainly upsetting, definitely it makes sense to be upset that an animal can engage in what appears like cruelty, but human morality isn't made to apply to non- humans, and a particular behavior is not the entire reality of what a whole species is like. Dolphins also engage in behaviors that humans judge as friendly, compassionate, altruistic, curious and playful

Think of a particular dog or cat and the variety of complex behaviors they are capable of—an entire species, made of individuals with their own complexity, must be far more complex. All of your emotional responses to dolphins are recognizing the immense complexity of these animals and how they are both like and unlike you, which is important to think about to expand your understanding of the universe

Fitting a creature to a flat framework for your own comfort or internal resolution is a disrespect to the creature. Certainly with sharks, everyone should know the facts about them rather than sensationalistic misinformation—shark attacks are rare, humans are not a preferred food for sharks, and most shark bites are exploratory investigations of a strange object or animal rather than feeding upon a selected prey item, however this doesn't mean sharks are "good" by human standards and it certainly doesn't mean sharks are "safe."

Seeing a video of an enormous Great White swimming placidly I feel that her presence is not just breathtakingly beautiful, but awesome—in the more archaic sense of something that inspires awe, something so great and powerful it could destroy your fragile human life without malicious intent. Likewise with any shark, it is respectful to recognize that they can be dangerous, it is disrespectful to think of them as ocean puppies and try to touch them and grab them.

Fear, disgust, anger—each is an instinct that functions to protect you and is reactive towards potential or perceived threats. Your brain allows you to evaluate things that cause these responses and choose how to act.

All parts of this whole are important because the natural world contains actual threats but knowledge and intentional behavior are important to protecting yourself.

For example, once when I found a tick crawling on my clothing, I felt disgusted and startled, which is appropriate, but my instinctive reaction was to immediately flick the tick off, flinging it onto the floor or furniture nearby where I no longer knew where it was. In this way my response didn't actually protect me but instead increased the level of risk

There are plenty of other examples—if someone sees a venomous snake they might think it is important to kill it, but trying to kill the snake is much more dangerous than leaving it alone, since the snake will try to defend itself. Spraying pesticides to kill bugs can unbalance the ecosystem causing more harmful pests than you started with because the natural predators are also killed. Using poisons to kill mice and rats will also poison their natural predators. Killing coyotes just causes them to disperse and reproduce at a higher rate, and killing wolves causes overpopulation of prey, which causes disease to proliferate and forests to be stripped bare of saplings that could grow up and regenerate the forest...

...And it also works the opposite way with human responses of affection, love and sociability: humans often may feel that they want to make an animal their friend, but often it would be cruel to take that animal into a human house and treat it as a pet. White-tailed deer may seem cute and sympathetic but hunting some of them is important for the health of the ecosystem, and trying to make them tame puts the deer and the humans in danger. Domestic cats are our friends but they are also invasive species in much of the world, destroying populations of birds, mammals and amphibians.

Domestic cats aren't serial killers or murderers either, they are just predatory animals that instinctively hunt and kill prey.

It is hard for facts about animals to be propagated while those facts must be presented as reasons the animal deserves to live or deserves to die. Virginia opossums are important to their ecosystem and deserve to exist. They also don't actually eat ticks, that came from a very flawed and sloppy scientific study that was contradicted by later studies, and sadly the reason this misinformation got so far is that it was "proof" that opossums are valuable and shouldn't be killed for no reason.

Wolves are keystone species and vital to their ecosystems, but it's not true that they never attack humans, there have been a small handful of wolf attacks on humans, it's very few and wolves generally avoid humans but they're not "safe." They shouldn't have to be "safe" to deserve to live.

Fact is, most animals can harm a human if they feel threatened or end up in an unlucky situation! Most animals can spread disease one way or another! We have to live with this, we have to learn and use strategies to keep ourselves safe, we can't just sterilize the world of animals because of a possibility that an animal could hurt someone, any more than we can cut down every tree because trees fall on people sometimes.

No one likes hearing that there's no way to for-sure eliminate all possibility of ticks from your yard, you just have to take precautions against them, but it's true! Just like there's an inherent possibility a wasp could sting you, an inherent possibility a snake could bite you, an inherent possibility a mountain lion could eat your livestock, but you can dramatically lower your risk of these things by knowing how to coexist with these animals.

[multifandomimagin3s]

Reader sits on their face and breaks their neck - 141, Los Vaqueros + König

requested by @daniel-meyer-03 contains sexual content (obvs), minors dni

Simon “Ghost” Riley

He always encourages you to put your whole weight onto his face - doesn't matter what size you are, he loves being smothered by your thighs.

His tongue is lapping your wetness like a man starved, when he mis-times his movements completely, feeling his neck go 'pop.'

He halts his movements with a grunt, head falling flat against the mattress; you raise yourself back off his face so sit at his side, as his hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck.

"Ah shit, that doesn't feel good."

He'd be pissy in the ambulance, purely because he wasn't allowed to put his balaclava on before he left and he's not happy about the Paramedics seeing his face.

Since he's legally dead, I reckon Price would have to pull some strings to get him seen in a private hospital to try and keep things hush hush.

He would be a grumpy guy when he has to wear one of those neck supports for the next few weeks," I look like a twat."

Isn't annoyed at you in the slightest - in fact it's quite the opposite, you had to tell him 'no' more than once when he suggested you sit on his face again, neck brace be damned.

"Would be a hell of a way to die, Love."

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

This would probably one of many sex-related injuries he's had in the past.

Pulled his hamstring and a few muscles in his back one night when you two were really going at it.

Slipped during shower sex and almost took you to the ground with him.

Has banged his head off the headboard during missionary more times than you can count.

So it's fair to say that considering he's in the SAS, he's really accident prone.

Would wear the neck brace with pride, wouldn’t care if the team took the piss out of him for it - and for how he got injured in the process.

Even when his neck was in agony, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Considering how this happened in the first place, cannae really complain, Darlin'."

If he felt any awkwardness he didn't show it - even in the Emergency Department, he wasn't shy when he was asked how he hurt himself, which made you flush bright red each time.

Would probably act like a big baby when he'd given medical leave.

Being able to just be with you, cuddling and spending time together, was amazing - and he'd been given 6 weeks off, so he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Oh, and like Ghost, he absolutely wouldn't be deterred by the experience in the slightest.

But is maybe a bit more mindful to put a pillow under his neck the next time he asks you to sit on his face.

Captain John Price

I reckon his neck is probably fucked already - like the muscles in his neck get so tight that sometimes he struggles to turn his head.

It's the norm for him.

But when he feels a sudden pop sensation just above his nape, he knows that something isn't right.

Probably would have encouraged you to continue riding his face if it wasn't for the intense pain shooting up his neck.

Would refuse to go to the hospital - "I've had worse on the field, Love, I'll be fine."

It wasn't until you pushed him into going for an x-ray that he realised he'd actually injured himself.

Wouldn't tell a soul what happened - not even the Doctors.

His private life stays just that - private.

Would grumble like an old man when he has to put the supportive collar on; "I look like a bloody dog when it's had its knackers cut off..."

Also wouldn't be annoyed at you at all - in fact, he promises that as soon as he's given the all clear to stop wearing "this bloody thing" he wants you back on his face.

Captains orders ~

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Mans is just confused as fuck.

One minute you're riding his face, his hands on your ass guiding your movements.

The next he's in agony - and then in an ambulance.

It isn't until a Doctor reviews his x-rays with him that he finally clicks on to what happened.

You rode his face...and broke his neck.

The realisation has him breaking into a fit of laughter - which mildly concerns the clinical staff.

He's in the military, risks his life on the regular - and the worst injury he's gained so far is from oral.

He's honestly nearly pissing himself from laughter, which makes you laugh too.

The neck brace doesn't even bother him one bit - the medical leave is a bonus in his eyes because he gets to spend more quality time with you.

Doesn't tell the Team how it happened - but Soap put the pieces together in his head, and is clapping Gaz on the back with booming laughter at the realisation.

"Fuckin' hell mate, that's one way tae do it!"

Alejandro Vargas

Like Soap, he's a bit too happy considering the situation he's in.

He's a passionate man, so getting an injury during sex doesn't bother him at all.

Usually he's very co-ordinated and he definitely knows what he's doing in the bedroom.

So fuck knows how he managed to practically break his neck whilst you were riding his face.

One wrong jerky move of his head and the next - searing pain.

Also is a grumpy guy when he's wearing the neck brace.

Would definitely play on it a bit, giving you the big brown puppy dog eyes so you'd give him more cuddles and affection; "Mi Amor, it hurts less when you're by my side ~"

Definitely would still try and initiate sex despite being told to take it easy.

Would happily let you ride him on the couch - his typical positions weren't on the cards but any angle he gets of your amazing body brings him bliss.

Gets the brace off...and probably injures himself again because he was a bit too eager to finish what he started.

Rudy Parra

Like his comrade, he's also a very passionate lover.

Apparently, a bit too passionate.

Which is why he was currently sat on your couch, arms crossed over his chest with a slightly annoyed expression.

He's not annoyed at you - he's annoyed that he didn't get to finish what he started.

Rudy was having the time of his life, smothered between your thighs, and he probably would've kept going had it not been you that hurriedly hopped off his face when he let out a pained groan.

Would probably try and convince you to let him continue where you left off.

But the hospital staff would probably be less impressed if he ended up back in the Emergency Department because he hurt himself further.

So he waits...impatiently.

As soon as the Doctor gives him the all clear, he practically dives between your legs.

He has to make up for lost time ;)

König

The poor guy is mortified - he’s not angry at you, not one bit, but that trip to the hospital is one that he’ll never forget.

Doesn’t like social situations, or hospitals for that matter, so being in a busy A&E department really was making him feel gradually worse by the minute.

That and he still had a bit of a *ahem* problem since your activities got interrupted.

Wearing a neck brace wouldn't bother him too much - as long as he can still wear his hood, he's happy.

Speaking of which, imagine the poor doctors trying to persuade him to take it off so they can examine his neck.

Thankfully he doesn't have to go on-base wearing the support - he'd probably die of embarrassment if Horangi found out what exactly happened, because then the entire base would find out no doubt.

Somehow, his comrade finds out anyways, and texts his friend some thumbs up emojis; "Way to go, big guy, best way to end up in the ER ;)"

After he gets the brace off and has to take it easy for a bit he'd be a bit sad since having you sitting on his face is his all time favourite position :(

Still, he improvises - and when he has your knees pressed to your chest and his mouth is writing the alphabet between your thighs, you would never complain ~

[servicpop]

HOW WOULD DRY HUMPING WITH UR OCS BE LIKE? LIKE WHOS MORE DESPRATE THAN THE OTHER WHO STARTED IT YK LIKE " U FELL FIRST HE FELL HARDER " BUT WITH DRY HUMPING LIKE IS READER THE ONE THATS IMPATIENT OR THEM ? IF SO WHICH WAY WOULD IT BE WITH EACH OC

wait this lowke don't make sense ✋IM SORRY I TRIED😭

LIKE WHOS DESPRATE U OR HIM

-💋anon

back from the dead 👊👊

glad you asked ! ( sorry this took so long I lowkey left this in my drafts TT )

Adrien would surely be the more desperate one. He's always been a little crazy when it comes to you. Actual sex was hard since there's always been people surrounding them , so at any given moment Adrien would find a chance to grind up against you. It would be in the middle of class during an activity where he's standing nonchalantly behind you, rubbing himself up against your ass, no one could see what was happening behind you. Or it would be at home where he's idly humping your leg like a dog, trying to get your attention if you're on your phone.

Vallen wouldn't be the desperate one or at least it would be rare for him to be. It would be a quiet night except for the soft tapping of keys on Vallen's keyboard. He's busy alot of the time, seeing as he was the CEO of a greatly known company. Lifting his chin up, he could see you slowly make your way to his chair, a cute pout on your face. "What is it?" He would chuckle softly, patting his thigh as an invitation. It's been practically a week without any action, Vallen could scarily contain his desires for ages. He wouldn't even bother giving into your whines and pleads, letting you pathetically hump his thigh, chasing any sort of friction. Truly a cruel man!

Cole would definitely be desperate. When cuddling, you as the little spoon, Cole would find a way to instinctively rub his hips against your back before mumbling a small apology and turning the other way in shame. He can't help it but he feels so embarrassed by it! Everytime he sees you out and about, all prettied up for your shows, he can't help the heat that pools between his legs or those butterflies that violently swivel around in his stomach. He finds himself clinging to your body, grinding against you like a dog in heat. He's extremely patient though, if you don't seem like you want it too, Cole would eventually just opt for cuddling — that served as his pleasure anways.

Callahan surprisingly (or not) would be the more desperate one. After work, after he undoes his tie and slings his coat off, he goes straight to you, placing himself right ontop of you like a big, brown bear. Callahan's body basically blanket's you, and his weight is enough to pull complaints from your lips, but he doesn't care. He shifts you slightly to turn onto your stomach and his large forearms cage your head in. He's pressing you down with his weight, roughly grinding into you through his work trousers. But he gets impatient, its been a long day at work and all he wants is his bratty little boyfriend clawing at his shoulders and tears staining the pillowcase. You can probably tell what happens after.

[planetpedri]

Domestic!Pedri Head cannons ۶ৎ

I cannot contain myself. I’m actually about to tweak thinking about these. 😭 Thank you Enny for helping me come up with these smooch smooch. Sorry I got so carried away with these…

feel free to request head canons about anyone !

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, you catch talking to Nilo all the time. Pedri will walk around the house with the little black pup in his arms, pointing things out to him.

“And that’s a picture of me and your uncle Fer.. And that’s my new shoes, those you better not touch.” or he’ll scroll through his camera roll, showing pictures of many different things, mostly pictures he’d taken of you. “Look at her, isn’t she just perfect?” It’s genuinely the most adorable thing in the world.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, after a rough day of practice just wants to lay in between your legs while you thread your fingers through his freshly dried hair. After he adopted Nilo, every time he tries to enjoy your cuddles, the pup will jump and scratch at your legs till Pedri picks him up and lays him on his chest. A small smile takes over your lips at the sight, your boyfriend was just too adorable and so was your new addition.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, likes to cook with you. It had become a common routine for the two of you after you moved in together. Now, with a dog running around the house, you two found yourselves tripping over him often. When you do so, you both erupt into a light of laughter, spewing out apologies and kissing Nilo’s head even though he wasn’t hurt.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, after a long day at practice begs you to wait to shower until he gets home. He always insists that, “it’s saving water.” But you know he just wants an excuse to be close to you, and of course you always agree. You loved the way he peppered your shoulders with soft kisses and the way his hands felt massaging the shampoo into your scalp. Showers with Pedri were when you were your most relaxed, and he felt the same way.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, never leaves you alone. On your days off you like to make meals and snacks for each other instead of going out, knowing Pedri was on a strict diet, it helped save cost anyways. Whenever you are making something, Pedri will sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Despite knowing what you were making, he’ll ask anyways, “What’re you making, amor?” He just loved to hear your sweet voice reply.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, always, and I mean always gives you three kisses whenever he’s about to leave or whenever he is grateful or even if he just is passing by. It’s never on the same spot, he kisses your lips, shoulders, cheek, temple, jaw, neck, anywhere. And he’ll rotate them every time. His own little way of saying, “I love you.” without actually saying it, not that he has a problem saying those three words, but he just liked the simplicity and intimacy of kissing you.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, loves to cuddle with you whenever he can. On his days off he likes to sleep in, groaning and complaining any time you try to cut it short to do your morning duties. Once you’re done (after prying yourself from his grip), you climb back into bed, this time spooning him, intertwining your legs together. Pedri loves to feel your soft breaths against his neck, half of the time it will lull him back to sleep.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, paces around the house constantly. Being an athlete, he is used to moving around constantly, which causes him to feel antsy when he’s sitting alone for too long. After coming home from work, you often find him walking around the living room, staring at his phone. He only settles down when he spots you, pulling you in for a welcoming hug.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, doesn’t care much for TV shows, but will watch anything with you as long as you’re cuddling. He tries to pretend he isn’t completely enthralled in whatever you’re watching, but his random outbursts when something stupid happens says all you need to know.

“He did WHAT?” , “Is this a joke?”

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, prefers staying in instead of going out for dates. With him constantly in the public eye, he feels uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy. When he’s having intimate moments with you, he prefers not to have to hide or mellow it down. In the safety of your home, he can kiss you anywhere he pleases without wondering how the media will react. He also just likes to have you all to himself, so being at home gives you all the privacy in the world with no interruptions.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, will do anything for you. If you’re having a bad day, he will pamper you senseless. If you are sick, he will disappear for half an hour and come back with your favorite foods or things to cheer you up. He loves to take care of you. He hates to see you hurting and would do anything to make you feel better.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, is the biggest baby when he’s sick. At first, he’ll act like it doesn’t bother him, but the second you make a concerned face, he’s suddenly so much sicker. He’ll pout and pretend he’s on his death bed till you call out of work to nurse him back to health.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, loves to do anything as long as it’s with you. You want to play board games? He’s already on the way to grab them. You want to go shopping? He’s grabbing the keys. You want to go to the movies? He’s putting on a hoodie. You want to go for a walk? He’s grabbing his sneakers. Anything you want, he will do.

⌗ Domestic Pedri who, doesn’t hesitate to clean the dishes after meal times. He’d rather take care of it right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. He’s always on top of things around the house, too. If something needs repaired, he’ll make the calls for you. Your family loves to tease him about how good of a husband he’ll be one day, and you can’t help but agree.

(DT): @halfwayhearted ^_^

[xeeljii]

CURRENTS ⋆⭒˚.⋆

PART 2: Let It Happen

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

IMPORTANT!!! You have to read PART 1 before this or it won't make sense! ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Summary: You and Joost were never lovers, never friends but something in the middle that ended up hurting more, you meet again years later and many things have changed but others stay the same. 

Word count: 14,4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, past friends with benefits, mutual pining, jealousy, yearning so much yearning, angst with a happy ending? who knows…you will have to read I guess (๑>؂•̀๑)⋆˙⟡

You had said yes to dinner, that was unexpected. Some part of him thought you would hang up or curse him out and then hung up but you didn’t and somehow that scared him worse. It meant that you were truly unbothered by this, that he was just an old fling who had no further impact on your life and that you were totally calm about this unlike him, who hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you for a single minute since the call. That was not the reality at all but he couldn’t know that. You had kept your old number, that was the first surprise actually, he had heard from an acquittance from those days that you were back who had heard it from a friend of a friend and he wasn’t sure if it was true but he wanted it to be. He had called to the number he weirdly remembered by heart and had waited with sweaty hands while it rang, when he heard your voice he felt a strange sense of warm envelop him for the first time in years. 

Joost was eager to see you and felt a nervous at the same time. He knew things ended up badly between the two of you, but the truth is that there really wasn’t any clear line of what you were, so how could there ever be a good ending?. Regardless, now you were back and he felt he could finally face you, if anything he just wanted to know you were doing alright and maybe you had even found someone you loved in the time you were apart, then maybe he could put all his pent up feelings to rest and move on, emphasis on the maybe. 

He had gotten a table at a much nicer restaurant than he thinks the two of you ever went to, in truth those days the best he would do was get take out to your tiny apartment before or right after you had sex. He wonders if he ever properly took you out on a date and the answer is no, he didn’t. He had been immature and self centered without even realizing and you were far too good for him, he didn’t understand why you even wasted your time on him when so clearly many other better candidates were holding out a candle for you and yet you chose him, always.

He arrived earlier than the meeting time, he was bad at timing in those days and he still was, but wanted, no, needed, to make a good impression so he made the effort and waited on held breath until he saw your familiar figure entering the restaurant. You hadn’t changed much and at the same time you were totally unrecognizable, more regal, elegant and beautiful than he remembered. It seemed like you had grown into every one of your features even more dazzling than before and carried yourself with so much grace it felt like you were floating. 

He was taller, maybe it was just you memory playing tricks on you, he had kept the mustache but everything else was different. His hair was longer, cut into a mullet, you remember how he had mentioned wanting one as a child, it is the same color as when you met him, which means he kept dyeing it or had dyed it recently, he was wearing chunky glasses, when you met him he would refuse to and would just walk around half blind, he was dressed differently and he was more handsome than you wanted to admit. It would be a lie to say you didn’t keep an eye on him through the years, secretly proud of his successes and uncharacteristically anxious about his failures. But he had thrown you out and there was no reason to let him know that, answering his call like a good loyal dog was humiliating enough.

“Hi.” He gets up to greet you and speaks all cheerfully, way too excited to contain it, part of him thought you would stand him up which wouldn’t be fully underserved but he is ecstatic that you are actually here.

“Hey.” You reply with a small smile escaping your lips.

He opens his arms, wants to hug you so bad, he has missed you so terribly but you just extend you hand for him to shake. His face drops a little but he composes himself quickly and shakes your hand back with a faked smiled pulled taut on his lips so you won’t see how disappointed he is, your skin is so soft and warm his memories didn’t do you justice.

“You look really beautiful.” He says, it stumbles out of his mouth, he doesn’t know if it is not the right thing to say but he means it, truthfully with the years passing his memory of you had gotten fuzzy and seeing the real you in the flesh in front of him is a lot to take in.

You smile back at him, there is the smallest blush on your cheeks, almost undetectable, back when you first met he would enjoy making you blush over everything and anything it was so easy and he loved pulling your hands away from you face when you tried to hide it.

“You look good yourself Joost.” His hand tightens a little on yours, hearing you say his name sends a wave of nostalgia over him that threatens to knock him over, maybe he wasn’t strong enough to face you but you are here all the same.

He helps you sit, pulls your chair and calls for the waiter. You order and the waiter disappears again after bringing you your drinks, you talk a bit about everything, what you have been up to, what he has been up to, you mention the place you had moved to, how your career had grown, the job you have now, he talks about the places he has been to, the cool artists he has met and the Eurovision thing, he skims right through it even though you know from the whole press and the sad expression on his face that it was a fresh wound. You feel a little sad that he will not talk about it with you, but even in the days when you shared a bed he was so cagey you couldn’t expect him to open up now out of all times, so you just let him change the subject without a fight. 

The dinner feels awkward, not entirely bad but not entirely good either, you had known each other for little under a year so you tried to make the same questions you would for an old acquaintance but it didn’t help that he had gotten more handsome and mature and kept distracting you with his shiny smile. You eat in silence for a bit unsure of what to say, you weren’t old friends but you weren’t exactly strangers either. It was far too weird to try to keep this fake diplomacy with someone who had seen you naked so many times but it was even weirded to try to pull conversation out of him when every word and every question felt like you were walking on shaky ground.

“You-your new album was good.” You say after a while starting to feel the tension is too heavy, your words tumble and crash on each other, you speak too fast, your hands are sweaty and maybe you will faint, but at this point it would be better, a nice dramatic exit to the night and then tomorrow you would change your phone number and never hear from him again.

“You listened to it?” He looks at you genuinely surprised like he didn’t expect it all all, he looks so eager to know what you thought, in the old days music talk was the only time you felt he was really honest with you and this feels so familiar a wave of nostalgia softens you.

“Yeah, I did tell you I liked your music that one time.” You smile at him before looking away avoiding his bright eyes. “And I didn’t say that just to get you in bed mind you.” He laughs.

He had always liked that about you, you had a quick mind and would be able to talk about anything and make it funny, he was happy to hear your stories. Now years later and much learning in between he had finally realized what he had truly lost and it hurt like a thorn deep in his heart. He would dream about you, not often truly, but it happened a few times through the years in a way that made him think about you when it was the last thing he wanted to do. In dreams he would see you impossibly bright, laughing at something stupid he said and by god did he say a lot of stupid things on those days, or in the shower talking about something one of your friends had done, while he just wordlessly admired the soft curves of your figure covered in drops of water, he would see you in bed sleeping with drool coming out of the corner of your mouth that he would wipe before you raised because you would get shy and flustered if you realized on your own when you woke up. He feels his heart swell in a way that it it hasn’t in years, you are sitting across from him looking so pretty under the candlelights, he remembers you younger, sitting on the tiny table at the kitchen of your apartment, stealing food from his plate and laughing at the TV, he wishes he could have kept that forever, the place that felt like home. 

“Are you seeing someone?” He asks all of a sudden, he knows he shouldn’t, he is pushing his luck too far and yet can’t stop himself.

“You don’t get to ask that.” You shake your head.

“We are catching up, right? It is a normal catching up question.” He says with an awkward laugh more trying to justify himself than anything.

You don’t know what to answer, you had obviously had other relationships in the mean time it was not like you were eternally holding hope that one day he would remember the old toy he left hanging somewhere and come back and pick you up, but now of all times you were single. Lying didn’t feel right and telling the truth didn’t either. Maybe somewhere in the middle will do.

“I have been on a few dates.” You say careful with every world, if you had been looking at him instead of avoiding his gaze perhaps you could have seen the way his shoulders dropped but you missed it.

“I see.” He replies drily, regrets the question instantly perhaps he would be better off not knowing.

“What about you?”

“No.”

You crook an eyebrow at him. “Really now Mr. International Superstar?”

He looks up at you, finds you wearing an amused face, perhaps being friends is still okay, no matter how much his heart aches for you he doesn’t want to fully lose you from his life ever again. 

“I’m not the type.” He replies shaking his head lightly, you roll your eyes at him.

“Okay.” You say tone full of sarcasm perhaps it comes out more bitter than you mean it to be, even in the past you had not been together and now you have even less of a reason to give him attitude. 

“I’m serious.” He says a little indignant. “I mean obviously I’ve been with people but I just-” He stops himself halfway through, you look at him even more curious now.

“You just what?” You ask.

“Nothing.” He goes back to dig on his plate.

I just cannot meet someone like you. Is what he leaves unsaid, you shrug and continue eating in awkward silence. He remembers all the things he left unsaid before, how he wanted to but didn’t think you would want to hear it, how he was so unsure of himself he didn’t want to fuck up, too scared of rejection he didn’t even dare try and how because of all that, he lost you and he refuses to let that happen again so he gathers as much courage as he can and says. 

“Actually, I just haven’t met someone like you.”

You choke a little on your food, you can never recall a time where he would ever be so honest and can’t figure out why he would be now, you look at him with wide eyes. Your brain works hard to make sense of what he is saying. You didn’t understand why he wanted you back then and now that he has even more options it makes even less sense, you feel stupid and small again, it makes you angry. You laugh bitterly.

“I’m serious.”

You try to hold back your anger and take a deep breath before replying. “I don’t know I- I wouldn’t know Joost, I don’t really think we ever got to know each other.” You shrug slightly and smile sadly at him.

That hurts him more deeply than you can imagine and the fact that you are right is worse. 

“I always regretted how things happened between us.” He says, sounds truthful enough but you can’t help yourself or the bitter feelings that fill your heart now.

He sounds so far off from the guy you had met, it feels like he might be an entirely different person playing a prank on you, but when you look back at him you see those same baby blue eyes that would find you in the night it sends a pang of pain to your heart.

“It is whatever.” You say, drinking from your glass trying to keep it together. You feel like an idiot right now, you shouldn’t have come, it was a bad idea.

You feel like yourself of four years ago again, and she sucked. She was not very smart and she was so stupidly in love with this guy, she had made you answer his call eager to see him again and now it was you who had to take charge of her bad decisions.

“I really am sorry.” He moves to grab your hand. You feel the back of your eyes prickling uncomfortably, maybe you weren’t so over him as you liked to pretend.

“Okay.” You say, not knowing what else to say as you pull your hand away, his touch feels like it burns. He looks truly regretful, you shouldn’t have blown off the handle like that and you know better than it, but the younger you is so eager to see him again she seems to keep popping out and makes you act unlike yourself.

You finish your meals, still talk about mundane stuff, how moving was a nightmare, he tells you he has moved a bunch, he is an expert and he should write a book about it, he is ridiculous in an endearing way, that hasn’t changed at all. You wish somewhere in your heart that he will meet someone who makes him happy, who can match his wit, who will laugh at his jokes and make sure he eats at least one proper meal a day because you suspect somehow that he still not very good at taking care of himself. You wish well for him because somewhere inside your heart he still has a place and you still feel so much tenderness for him it chokes you up a little bit.

The waiter takes the plates away, Joost pays for your meals and opens the door for you, had he ever been that gentlemanly? No, not really. Again this new version of him seems to be making you dizzy.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks as you exit the restaurant.

“Sure, yeah I would like that thanks.” You accept because if this is the last time you will see him you want to extend it a little more, be a little selfish for your younger self she deserves to stare at him for a little longer so she can finish memorizing all pretty landmarks of his pretty face.

You walk together slowly like you are both trying to prolong the inevitable goodbye as much as you can. He points you to new places that have opened and also the once that closed since you were gone, he recommends some so you can go later, secretly wishes he could be the one to take you there. He misses all the mundane with you, after you he never really got to experience that with anyone else and felt like he didn’t even want to, too scared to muddy his memories with you. The further away from home he got the more he wanted to come back and the more that feeling grew the more he realized he would never again meet someone like you.

In those days you had thought he was a little out of your league, he had though you were a little out of his. You never seemed to quiet connect perfectly like pieces of a puzzle being forced to fit together by greedy hands, now, with more life experience under your belt you wonder if that is even a real possibility and maybe you were just being unrealistic in your expectations. Now, you are looking at him with new eyes and he seems to be a really good guy, not prince charming, not straight out a romance movie but just him, just Joost and that is somehow better than any stupid fantasy. 

He keeps stealing little glances at you like he is trying to commit you to memory, like any moment now you will disappear into a cloud. And maybe he isn’t so wrong you have already done that before and you distantly think if things would have been any different if instead of running away you would have faced him head on, even if it didn’t fix anything it probably would have given you better closure than what you have right now.

He feels this weird soft sadness envelop him the longer he looks at you, your hair is different, there are almost unnoticeable scars on your hands maybe from cooking you were always a little reckless with the knives, your face has grown even more beautiful and he can’t help but feel so lonely when he realizes he missed all of that, that he could have seen you grow and change right in front of him like a little plant on the windowsill and he missed it for his own lack of courage. He sees tiny goosebumps form on your arms, remembers how you were always bad at taking a jacket with you when you went out and that one at least seems to not have changed which makes him smile, you are not a total stranger after all. 

He chucks off his blazer and rests it on your shoulders without a word, you feel his scent envelop you so suddenly that you feel you might truly pass out now. 

This image of you on one of his hoodies sitting on bed while he plays you one of his new songs pops up in his mind so clearly he feels he has turned back time and he truly wishes he could.

“I wish we had met at a different time.” He says not looking at you, he fears if he sees the rejection on your face it will be too much. 

“Yeah? I don’t think you should think like that.” You say kicking a little rock down the street to distract yourself from how overflowed with emotions this whole thing makes you feel.

“How come?” He stops on his tracks to look at you.

“Well, nothing would change, we just wouldn’t work.” You shrug like you are just stating facts it angers him a little truly.

“Well I'm different now, you are too.” He says plainly. 

“You can’t know that from a dinner.” You laugh genuinely for the first time in the night, he hasn’t heard that sound in so long he wants to record it keep it in his heart forever even if you don’t want to talk to him ever again he wants to at least keep that.

“But I can, you are more mature and smarter and more beautiful too.”

You properly snort at that last one even thought he is being honest. You shake your head and turn around to look at him.

“The bleach melted your brain.” You scrunch your nose and raise a hand up to shake the soft strands of hair between your fingers, like you are really friends, like all of this is normal.

Should he try that? If you reject him could he offer being your friend, he really does like you not just having sex with you, like you think, and he thinks you are wicked funny and far too kind, probably kinder than he deserved, specially at that time and if he has a little crush on you it would be okay as long as he kept it to himself, he could also have you in his life. Who knows maybe down the line you could be proper normal friends and perhaps that is what the universe had always envisioned for both of you but you had gone and messed with it by adding love to the mix. 

You find yourself deep into the streets of the city you once loved so much, next to a man you also loved too much for your own good but then all too late you realize you accidentally walked back to your old place, the one where you had been together countless times, you break out into laughter your body doubling over.

“What?” He asks amused looking at you, you can’t reply, this is all so stupid, it can’t be happening. “What? Tell me.” He says rubbing soft circles between your shoulder blades over his blazer to calm you down. 

You look up at him your eyes full of happy tears or perhaps sad, you can’t know. You feel so overwhelmed by everything, you have been so good at holding it in and now you just explode. You are laughing and crying at the same time, you feel like four years of forgotten feelings just bubbled to the surface and you can barely bring yourself to care.

“I don’t live here anymore.” You manage to blurt out, you are wiping away at your tears while still giggling in between so amused by the entire situation it is like it isn’t even happening to you, like this must be a dark comedy movie or something “God this is so ridiculous, this is so stupid!” You say throwing your arms up in the air and shaking your head. 

He thinks you are so beautiful in your wild laughter but he starts getting worried when he sees the tears don’t stop. 

“Hey, it is okay, we will get a cab.” He says taking a step towards you but you take a step back like you are afraid of his touch. 

“No, no.” You shake again, not really knowing what you are saying anymore.

“Hey are you okay?” He is worried now, truly scared, he goes to put a hand on your shoulder then feels you shake with a heavy sob.

“No, I am really not.” You say it in between a bitter laugh as you cover your face with your hands. “I just really wish I had never met you.” You blurt it out before you can stop it and it cuts deep right into his heart, you can see through eyes blurry with tears how Joost’s face drops and goes pale instantly, he lets go of you.

“I’ll get you a cab.” He says, his voice sounds distant, so unfamiliar now. 

The fact that he looks so sad angers you even more, he has no right to be the one hurt when he is the one who threw you away.

“Don’t you wish the same too?” You say in a harsh tone, just wanting him to confirm all your fears, that he was glad he got away from you, that his life was so much better now and he never missed you, never thought of you.

You were looking for a fight, for him to be cruel like he once had been, even though you knew it was not on his nature and he never meant it like that. He takes a deep breath and looks at you like you are asking something so stupid it isn’t even worth answering, he looks like he is about to cry too.

“No, never. I wouldn’t give up meeting you for anything.”

You feel your throat burn with a sob. You stand together in the dark streets silently waiting for the cab, it arrives he helps you in without saying a word and then you are gone. 

He watches the car drive off holding back tears when he sees you disappear around the corner, it hits him, you are gone, you are truly gone and he couldn’t fix anything, he couldn’t solve anything, like every time before he messed it up, he wasn’t enough and now there is no second chance, he already spent all his second chances years before and this was his last one and even when such a long time has passed he didn’t figure it out, didn’t figure you out for as much as he wanted to pretend like he knew you maybe he didn’t at all. 

Joost goes back home alone, showers alone and then falls into bed trying to get some sleep alone, like always. Nothing has changed because nothing could change and maybe he was the only one who hadn’t moved on, the only one who had not grown because you at least were smart enough and strong enough to cut the cord. But he was still pathetically holding onto the memories, onto every word and every touch and every night you spent together without admitting to himself it was all just that, memories and perhaps it should stay in the past, perhaps it is supposed to just be looked back on fondly instead of like him clinging like a scared child to something he doesn’t want to lose. 

The days go by in a blur, he doesn’t really want to get up from bed and he doesn’t really have a reason to, he just stays inside mindlessly watching TV and scrolling his phone, he thinks about calling you, apologizing again but he remembers your words so vividly ringing inside his head, the way your tears shone so brightly in the night, how you regretted him and he can’t bring himself to be an inconvenience in your life again, he knows somewhere in his heart that he has taken enough. Even when he realizes you accidentally left with his blazer on, he doesn’t call, he is too scared again to act so he just sits still and watches as life once again passes him by. He thinks he will get new cards and a new ID which is a pain and he should just text you at least but then if you sent his stuff back without even meeting him, then you would have truly no reason to talk again and even if it is selfish it is a line he is not willing to cut yet, he is not strong enough for that one yet. 

By the fifth day Joost runs out of all the food at home and most importantly of all the beer, the only thing that is helping him sleep. So he decides to venture out, not that he particularly wants to, but he figures some day sooner rather than later he would have to pick up the pieces and start the arduous process of moving on from you, a process he has already delayed by a few years. He leaves home right at lunch time with some spare cash he had around and goes for the supermarket to pick only the essentials, he sees all sorts of people there, old couples and young parents with their kids and it makes him feel all the lonelier, he wishes you were with him, not that the two of you ever did that sort of domestic thing together but he wishes you would have, he thinks it would have been fun, even though in truth anything that involved you would be fun. 

As he is making his way back to his place, bags in hand, his eyes linger on one of the restaurants he had recommended to you and all of a sudden there you are like a mirage, under the umbrella of one of the tiny outside tables surrounded by pink flowers with the sun generously illuminating your sweet face making you look ethereal. You take his breath away, you always do, his feet move before he can think it through he just can’t stand living like this, knowing you are out there and he can’t share in your days, bask in your laughter, drink from your beauty, it will drive him mad. As he crosses the street he can feel the vomit of words brewing at the back of his throat and all of his sentences start with “I’m sorry, please, please give me another chance, please let me prove I can be good for you.” He is not above begging he realizes. 

But before he can talk, before he can even pretend for any longer that his fantasies where you forgive him and take him back will become real, a man approaches you from the other side of the table and as soon as you feel his presence you stand up with a bright smile on your lips, the kind he wishes he could pull out of you, you go to hug the stranger pressing yourself tightly to him. Joost imagines you smell heavenly, you must feel soft, your hair is shiny and you look so pretty and his heart breaks all over again. He is angry, he is angry at this man for daring smile at you, for daring touch you, he is angry at you for using his restaurant recommendations for another guy who isn’t him, but most of all he is angry at himself, he can’t forgive himself for losing you. 

He stays in place watching from where he can’t be seen, just twisting the knife deeper on himself. You are smiling and chatting happily, the way he wished you would have talked to him, and yet it is another man who has your tender eyes glued on him, it is another man who is taking you out for lunch, and it is another man who is making you laugh, not him, never him again, no matter how much he wants it. When you reach to grab your partner’s hands he has to look away, he feels tears start falling from his eyes, he tries to furiously wipe them away but they keep coming, he is drowning in love and lost and the only one who could save him told him she didn’t want anything to do with him. He finally gathers enough strength to walk away, and go back to his empty house to wallow in self pity, all alone again. 

If he had ever paid any attention and ever had put in more care in getting to know you then he would have recognized that other man not as a stranger but as one of your closest friends and he would have realized that you were not in any sort of romantic date but just a real catch up with a friend, the kind you could never have with him because you weren’t really friends. So instead of knowing any of that he continues for more days forming more and more imaginary scenarios inside his head of you with some other guy, you going on dates and holidays together, you going to restaurants and looking pretty under the candlelight, you moving in together and then getting married and then growing old all of which he can’t be part of and it tears his heart to pieces. So he tries to drink himself to sleep trying to catch some dreamless rest that evades him. But even then he is unsuccessful because you appear on every corner of his mind, haunting his every thought and even when he is unconscious you show up laughing in his face, so cute and so out of reach. He remembers you, now more than ever, with a fresh image of what you look like, his memories become clearer, he remembers your face when you slept, every single detail and the expressions you made, he remembers the way you had looked like back when you told him you loved him and how he didn’t say anything back, Why didn’t he say anything back? Was the fear of things being real greater than his love for you? No, of course it wasn’t but at the time he was too stupid to understand that, so now four years later like an idiot he keeps wishing he could turn back time and knowing he can’t. 

That night after you had left Joost you had continued to silently cry on the ride home until at some point without even noticing you stopped, but the ache in your heart didn’t go anywhere it only became more prominent and uncomfortable with each passing day. Younger you had felt devastated she had hoped new you would be mature and smart enough to solve it, solve whatever it was you and Joost had going on. But even age and maturity couldn’t help you when you didn’t even know what you had with him to begin with. And truly this had all been a big mistake you shouldn’t have gone seen him, no matter how much your heart ached for it. You had taken a long shower and gotten in bed in complete silence, too exhausted for anything else and fallen asleep with a dull ache pounding in your heart.

The morning after you had woken up late and with a splitting headache, everything had felt so surreal but when you saw his blazer on your chair you realized it actually did happen. You cursed yourself mentally for not giving it back, for taking it home and now you would have to see him again, but you could also take the easier way out and just have it delivered and avoid the whole interaction. Yet you don’t, he had been honest with you that night, much more than in the almost whole year that you had known him before and now you felt guilty about how bad you had ended the night. You tell yourself it is best to cut things off cleanly this time, so there won’t be an infected wound like last time. So you end up looking inside his wallet for his ID and search his address up, you also find an old note you wrote him once half jokingly “VALID: For one kiss!” it reads, you had given it to him, written on the back of a grocery list, after you accidentally sat on one of his pairs of glasses and crushed them, he had just laughed it off even when you offered to pay but he had kept the piece of paper for some reason, it pains you and makes you want to cry all over again. 

You don’t show up to his house immediately, you can’t. It was one thing to know what you should do as a responsible adult and a completely different thing to actually have the strength to do it. You have to wait some days to gather strength, you keep trying to distract yourself with work and some old friends but it is useless because every time you see his blazer on your chair you think of him and how you wish that instead of coming back to an empty house you were coming back to him sitting on that same chair, smoking cigarettes like he once did in your small apartment.

However, you decide that prolonging the inevitable is only doing you more harm than good so a little over a week after the dinner you show up to his address late in the after noon, right before evening, you had to hype yourself up the whole day to go there and have this conversation, that was assuming he was there. Just your luck when you ring he answers. He opens the door slowly and almost doesn’t belive it is you.

“Hi.” you say shyly. 

He looks rough, he is pale, his hair is messy and his eyes look slightly red like he hasn’t slept, there are also deep dark circles right under his pretty blues that now seem dimmed. 

“Hey.” His voice is shaky and nervous, he holds onto the handle of the door like if he lets go he will crumble right in front of you. 

“Um, I forgot to give it back sorry.” You say raising the blazer in your hand. 

“Oh, it is okay.” He is dumbfounded, after that night he truly didn't expect to see you ever again and here you are. He is looking intently at your face like soon you will disappear, like this is just another one of his dreams he has been having all week where he sees you vanish right in front of him, but you don’t. 

“Can we talk?” You ask with worry in your face, he hates that, hates that every time he is involved you seem to be so on edge. 

“Sure, sure. Come in.” He moves from the door and lets you in, closes the door after you.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He brushes his hair out of his face, is thankful that he even managed to shower and change his clothes, at least today after a week of self pity. 

“Just water thanks.” You say, he walks you to the living room, tells you to sit that he will be back in a second.

You do so, still holding onto the blazer tightly like a lifeline, you look around his place, it is much bigger than what he had in those days, a little less messy but still very much a bachelor house, it makes you a little happy even though you have no right to feel so, he is not yours and he never was, you have to keep reminding yourself. You are only here for closure, only that. 

“Here.” He says sitting on the armchair next to the couch like he wants to give you space and not suffocate you.

“Thanks.” You mumble taking a sip. You let a long minute go by before you open your mouth. 

“I’m sorry about taking your jacket, and your wallet, I promise I didn’t rack up thousands of euros on credit card debt.” You say with the smallest hint of a smile.

That gets a laugh out of him, it is the first time in days he feels anything that isn’t dread and of course the only responsible could be you.

He smiles softly but there is a hint of sadness under it. The air feels heavy with tension and you just want to lighten it up, he looks so sad you want to ask what is wrong but the question dies in your throat not knowing how much you are allowed to overstep. You don’t know what to say but you wish you could sooth him of whatever his worries are, if you were his girlfriend you could comfort him about whatever is bothering him, even if you were only his friends you could offer a helping hand, a kind shoulder to lean on, but since you are nothing you just keep your hands to yourself. 

“That is fine. I wouldn’t mind.” He says, it is a little stupid but he truly wouldn’t, if this was one of those problems you could just throw money at to solve he wouldn’t mind spending millions to get another chance with you. 

“Ah! I forgot you had superstar money, then maybe I should have bought myself a car.” You smile mischievously at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, he knows you wouldn’t but he finds you amusing nonetheless. “You could do whatever you wanted.” 

For some reason it feels like he is not just talking about spending his money and you feel a little shy all of a sudden. You want to fill in the silence before it drowns you. 

“I’m actually sorry for the inconvenience. Did you not need your cards?” You ask, leaving the blazer to the side. 

“No.” He pauses for a moment, thinks his next words carefully. “I just haven’t been going out, I was busy.” Busy thinking about you, busy dreaming about you, busy pining after you, all so I could see you laughing at other asshole’s shitty jokes that aren’t mine. He doesn’t say that, he knows better than to say it but the uneasiness with which you look at him makes him all the more resentful about what he saw that day. 

“I see.” You say, sensing a shift in tone. You fiddle with your fingers as you look around, there are a couple of pictures of him with friends it makes you smile, knowing he has people looking after him, people you recognize, at least some things remain unchanged, at least he is not alone. 

You are distracted seemingly by the walls or not wanting to meet his eyes, whichever it is doesn’t matter because you look so pretty in this light, in any light and you are biting your lip like you always did when you were nervous, it is so reminiscent of old days it envelops him in nostalgia, but you look so different now and at the same time you look like you could belong here, like you could really be his as he is already yours. Like you could wake up in his bed, your bed, and have breakfast together and then say good bye to come back home to dinner with you and shower together and fall asleep in each other’s arms and then wake up and do it all over again, because you can.

And he distantly wishes he was a different man, the kind that could actually have those things with, the kind you could actually introduce to your friends and the kind you would be so happy to see like the guy at the cafe. He furrows his eyebrows, he doesn't want to think about that but the doubt itches in his mouth and he sort of wants you to confirm all his worst fears, that yes that other guy is the love of your life, that you couldn’t be happier, that he is so much better than Joost, that Joost has always been way beneath you and that you will soon get married and have the life you have always wanted, the kind of life he could never give you. He wants to be put out of his misery and stop holding any hope that you will want him ever again so he doesn’t stop himself before speaking and breaking the uncomfortable silence no matter how much it makes him feel like he is walking to his own execution. 

“I saw you at the new restaurant the one near the supermarket the other day” He takes a small pause until he sees you make eye contact then continues. “With your boyfriend.” The word comes out bitterly from his mouth making him uncomfortable with every syllable. 

You look at him a little puzzled, have to make an effort to remember what he is talking about, then when you come up with the answer you break in laughter throwing your head back at his misunderstanding. 

He is even more confused, he is hurt now, it is one thing for you to have a boyfriend and it is another to rub it in his face and laugh at him for still being so stupidly in love with you, he feels so dumb and inadequate but then you finally stop giggling and look at him from under long eyelashes with a warm smile while shaking your head and he forgets why he was even angry in the first place. 

“That is my friend, we were classmates in university.” You explain still between fits of laughter. 

“Oh,” Is all that he manages out. 

“Oh?” You repeat raising your eyebrows and looking at him amused, you scoot closer in the couch to get a better look at his face, he is blushing so prettily. 

“Were you jealous Joost?” You crook your head to the side playfully, still so amused at how mortified he looks, he doesn't even want to meet your eyes. 

“Tell me~” You say in a sing song voice as you go even closer to him.

He wants to melt into the floor and avoid this, he feels so childish in his fit of jealousy now and all the sleepless night he spent having nightmare about your wedding day to some guy that isn’t even your boyfriend. He finally takes a deep breath, still feels his skin burning hot with embarrassment but he makes the effort to look at you. 

“Yes I was.” He admits, he doesn’t know why exactly he is so eager to admit it, it is not like he has the right to be jealous, but you had said “Tell me.” and how could he ever deny you anything? He covers his face with a hand faking a cough so you won’t see how deeply red he has turned, but you do notice and you are still smiling at him. He likes this, he likes you, he likes having you close like this, even when you are laughing at him, he could be your jester he thinks distantly, he would be okay living like that as long as he could stay by your side. 

You pull back further away and relax into the couch, he wishes you would have stayed closer, he swears he could smell your perfume or maybe it was just wishful thinking. You both just sit in silence for a while not saying anything but finally the silence doesn’t feel daunting it just feels good, like there is finally some peace. You wish you could stay like this longer but any more indulging in these scenarios of the past and what ifs and you won’t want to leave his side, so you take a deep breath before trying to say anything. You turn your face to look at him and find him already watching you, it make you blush lightly but you still speak up. 

“Joost I’m really sorry about that night, I shouldn’t have said that.” You don’t turn your eyes away even when you want to, so overwhelmed by how penetrating his eyes feel on your face, you hold his gaze so he will know you are being sincere. 

“Oh, that is okay.” He says, his tone is nervous now, you can tell he is forcing a smile but you shake your head. 

“It was mean and unnecessary I shouldn’t have, I’m really sorry.”

He shrugs slightly, he wishes you weren’t having this conversation now, he wanted to keep playing pretend in his head of what it would be like to have you here in his living room day after day always and forever without even talking because silence is just comfortable between you two.

“If you meant it, it is all good. You were just honest.” He swallows deeply trying to sooth his nerves. 

Why was he so kind of all a sudden? Who was this man? The more time you spend with him the less you felt you knew him, it frustrated you somehow.

“I was just cruel but I didn’t think it would hurt you.” You say a little defeated.

“Why would you think that?” He asks genuinely, there is no hint of anger or sadness in his tone, just genuine curiosity like he genuinely doesn’t know.

You look up at him and shrug slightly. “I didn’t think you cared about me enough for it to hurt.”

That is his fault fully and he just has to live with it but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

He gets up, moves to sit next to you on the couch, whatever happens is okay but you have to know how he really felt, you have to know how much he really cared for you no matter how unable he had been to show you, you at least deserved it now.

“Can I be honest?” You look at him and nod, don’t trust yourself to speak right now, feel like tears might start streaming form your eyes any second.

“I really did like you, back then.” He stops for a second, wants to grab your hand but knows better.

“I actually loved you.” He says in a painful sigh. Your heart squeezes painfully. 

“When you said it, I didn’t know what to do, I was stupid and didn’t say anything, I thought you would be there as long as it took me to say it back.” He shakes his head, feels so disappointed in his younger self.

“Obviously not, I was idiotic and selfish and you deserved better than that.” He smiles bitterly knowing nothing that had happened could be changed.

You have to swallow hard to get yourself to speak. “Why did you call me?” You ask shaky voice, eyes shining with tears threatening to spill over.

“I really missed you.” He shrugs a little and smiles sadly. “I wasn’t lying there really is no one else like you.”

Your hands are trembling on your lap, you feel stuck, you can’t move, can’t speak and can barely breath you are dissolving into his living room couch, he recognizes the signs all too well from experience and grabs at your hand, holds tight while searching for your eyes.

“I’m here.” He says, his voice feels like it is coming from underwater.

“Look at me.” You force yourself to do so, you realize at some point you had started crying, he pulls your hand softly to his chest and splays your fingers on it.

“Breath with me okay?” You nod and follow as he does. 

He takes deep breathes, keeps the air inside and then exhales slowly, you focus on the feeling, try to follow the best you can, you focus on his eyes he is looking deeply at you, blue was always your favorite color or it became after him, you are not too sure.

After what feels like hours of slow breathing you finally feel your heart beating a little slower. All of a sudden you feel so tired, you still feel like you are slowly coming down to earth. You let your head fall on his chest, hear his heart calm and slow, he feels like a rock you can cling to when you feel like drowning. In some more minutes you get your heart to match his.

“I really did love you Joost.” You whisper against him, now his heart picks up, you can feel it in the palm of your hand, like it is your own and in a way it always did belong to you even if you didn’t know.

“I still love you.” He says.

You raise your head from his chest, look into his eyes. 

“Can we try again?”

You don’t answer, you can't, you don’t know what to say truly so you just kiss him. It feels new and familiar at the same time, but undeniably him. 

He feels his heart stop, has thought about this scenario so many times through the years of your absence, has dreamed about it and found solace on imagining it when he felt his loneliest but the reality is all the sweeter. You are really here in front of him kissing him deeply holding at his shoulders like he will slip away but he now knows there is no better place on this earth than in your warm embrace. He reacts belatedly, he wraps his arms around your middle holding you closer, chest against chest you can feel each other so real that it is scary and exciting all at the same time. 

Four years of pent up feelings wash over you, you can’t get enough you chase after his lips drink from his touch. It feels so familiar and delicious like getting home after a long vacation but also so different like you are new lovers just learning each others’ bodies for the first time. You make a move to sit on his lap but stop unsure if you should but he is so sweet and he helps you brings you closer kisses at you neck, takes a deep whiff of your scent. Your perfume is not the same you used to use but underneath it is the aroma of your skin, undeniably you and it spurs him on. 

You are making out on the couch like teenagers, almost like all the times you did in your tiny apartment but this time is his place and everything that surrounds you feels so much like him in a way that makes you lightheaded, back when you first met you had only been to his place a couple of times and it seemed like you weren’t allowed to look but now you are drinking in every detail with curious eyes as he kisses on your throat. Hands are grabbing all over each other, neither of you can get enough, he feels sturdier, his arms seem bigger, the little tickling of the mustache is the same, he feels so warm you want to melt into him forever. You pull back from the heated kisses and make move to pull your shirt off but he stops you putting his hands over yours at the hem of the garment. 

“Wha-” You look so confused and almost frustrated with him, if he tells you to leave you don’t think you could live down that humiliation. 

But he is looking at you with so much lust, love and nostalgia all mixed into his deep blue eyes. 

“I want to- bed” His words are jumping all over the place, he is trying so hard, has waited so long for this, truly didn’t think it would happen again but now he has you and he wants to take his time. “Can I take you to bed?” He ask it sounds weird, barely makes sense and yet you understand him perfectly. 

“Please do.” You say kissing him again and smiling against his lips.

He lifts you up easily and quickly, he grabs at your thighs from below the curve of your ass, wants to feel you up higher but is still anxious that he will scare you off, that all of this will become too real for you and you will scurry away like running water between his fingers. But you just hold him tighter as he walks to bed, his eyes stay on yours almost entranced on your face. When you finally make it to his bedroom he lets you down softly on the bed, he is so grateful for once he remembered to make it in the morning and just his luck today he also changed the sheets. 

You are a divine sight he drinks you in, lips kissed red and face so deep with lust laying on his bed staring up at him waiting, a sight he thought he would never get to see again, he wants to burn this moment in his memory forever, he just blinks slowly at you and looks. 

“Joost, come here.” You finally say when you see him just staring at you like he is in a daze. 

He crawls on bed on top of you, slowly, still so unsure. Maybe he has craved you so much he has been hallucinating this whole thing but you grab at his arms and pull him closer to start planting little kisses on his jaw, his breath picks up, he closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of your soft lips, you grab at his face with your hands pull him closer to your lips, you kiss him deeply, he opens his mouth for you you push your tongue in slowly feeling him, just tasting him. He still smokes you can tell, if you work your brain extra hard you could guess it is still Camels. You smile to yourself, you can remember so many little things about him like he had never truly left your heart at all. 

He sucks on your tongue, he wants to eat you whole, you taste delicious, you feel delicious at some point his hands make their way to your waist and now he has you against his chest again rubbing softly at the inch of skin that your shirt ridding up allows him. He feels so hot you feel so hot, your skin is so tender and soft it is better than he remembers, he wonders if you still use the same lotion you did back then. He grabs at the hem of your shirt looks up at you for confirmation and you nod. He lifts it up drinking in every inch of skin that his eye can reach, there you are, it is still you. 

There are tan lines on you, he wonders where you went on vacation, he spent his last one in France, he went to a nice place by the beach, the kind that you would like, he wonders if you would let him take you there, just the two of you, already dreams of what you would look like wet from the ocean and glistening with the sun. 

“Your mind is elsewhere, should we reschedule?” You say teasing him with a smirk. 

And that hasn’t changed either. “If we stop I might die.” He pulls his shirt up, is already feeling so hot he might get heatstroke just from looking at you. 

“Hey! Don’t do that. I want to undress you too.” You complain soft scowl and cute little pout on your lips, he wonders if you ever realize just how charming you are to him. 

“I’ve missed you.” He says in a whisper against your lips as he cages you between his arms again. 

“Well you have me.” 

You grab at his neck pulling him down on top of you, your legs are tangled with his, his breath is deep, he is holding his weight on his forearms, doesn’t want to crush you but you want to feel him all over you, you want to take everything he has to give you. He kisses along your jaw softly reaches at your neck and starts planting a delicious trail of open mouthed kisses down your throat, bites softly at your collar bones, you pull away laughing at it but he holds you closer to him. He places kisses all over the skin on your shoulder then down to your chest and buries his head in the valley of your breasts, you giggle, he always had his fixations and this one hasn’t changed at all. His hands are playing with the band of your bra shyly swiping his fingers underneath as he continues to kiss you. 

He looks up at you resting his cheek on one of your breasts. “Can I?” He has the worst case of puppy eyes ever, it reminds you why it was so hard to say no to him. 

“I’m yours.” You smile softly at him pulling your fingers between strands of his soft hair. 

He looks so baffled. So overwhelmed with emotion he becomes that he quickly raises from where he is and crashes into your mouth pushing you into bed almost too hard.

“Lifde.” He whimpers against your lips before kissing you deeply, like he is trying to convey years of unsaid things in just one kiss. 

His hands roam softly on your back, you feel so warm. Finally he reaches for the clasp of your bra and unhooks it without separating from your mouth for a second like if he did he would drown. The garment falls down your arms, he admires your soft forms mouth agape and eyes shiny. He reaches a hand to massage at your breast, he is hypnotized by the way the fat gives under his finger tips, by the heat of your skin, the way your nipples pebble immediately at the first touch like your body recognizes him and comes back to life. 

“You are so beautiful.” His voice is deep and heavy with lust, your legs wrap around his hips and pull him closer just to share in his heat. 

He continues playing softly with your mounds, goes to kiss at the thin skin, wraps his lips around your nipples and sucks softly until he has you whining and pushing your chest against his face, his big hands holding at your middle pulling you against him just holding you impossibly closer to him like he wants to dissolve inside your ribcage listening to the beat of your heart forever. You feel him so hard under you, his length pressing right against your own core through the layers of fabric, your hips start grinding against his without even meaning to, moving on its own like your body recognizes his and has missed him so much, moving solely on instinct you don't even have to think. 

Your cunt is throbbing with desire, you feel yourself so wet, the fabric of your panties sticking uncomfortably to you. It feels so hot and you just want tot touch him directly. 

“Joost.” You mewl under him trying to get his attention but he continues licking incessantly at your nipples pinching and pulling lightly with his hands to the sensitive skin. 

Your hands are at his shoulder grabbing tightly but when you see he is not even listening you move them downwards one hand going between the two of you to palm him through his jeans. He moans around your nipple at the contact and then sucks harder trying to get as much of your flesh in his mouth as he can. You continue to stroke him lightly then stronger, faster, you feel him moaning and bucking his hips into your touch, chasing after the friction when you tighten your grip he all of a sudden stops his bucking hips and pulls away from you, leaving your nipples covered in his spit, swollen and shiny on the light of his room. 

“If you keep going I’m gonna cum in my pants.” He says truthfully looking up at you with big eyes. You laugh, he is so blunt and honest, it is still hard to get used to it but it is so terribly endearing.

“Not like it would be the first time.” You say grinning wildly. 

“Liefde.” He whines scrunching his eyebrows and letting a soft blush adorn the high of his cheekbones. “That was one time and I was drunk.” He is turning an ever deeper shade of pink right in front of your eyes, you distantly wonder if anyone else is able to make him melt like this, if anyone is able to tease all these reactions out of him and you remember his words “There really is no one else like you.” and you smile to yourself contently. 

“Take them off.” You say going for the zipper of his pants and dragging down, he lets you, he feels like he can barley breath seeing you almost naked on his bed and undressing him is a dream he thought would never come true again. 

He helps you pull the pants down and kicks them off bed along side his boxers that are sporting a big wet spot right at the tip of his erection. Then he goes to grab at the waist of your jeans and undoes the button before pulling down softly watching your beautiful legs emerge from the fabric. His hands go to your legs slowly inching upwards, massaging the soft muscle, feeling the smooth skin. You lay back down and just stare at him, he has some new tattoos, he has gained some wight, his chest hair is still there but is darker now same as the happy trail and all the beauty marks you remember and the ones you don’t as well. He has changed and he is still in there somewhere, recognizable but different and even better because this time it is real and not just pretend. 

He bends down to place kisses at your thighs almost reverent like you are a divinity that has wondered into his house. He keeps moving higher up until he is right at your core, he kisses over the fabric of your underwear then looks up at you, you nod approvingly before he moves to part your legs. He grabs at the back of your thighs and quickly pulls you closer to him. Gets in the middle and starts planting kisses all over your legs and between them, the skin is so soft there he tries to rub his face against it as covertly as he can and fails miserably because you are looking directly at him seeing how eager and needy he is just makes you hotter. 

He kisses over the lace of your underwear, his lips are plump and soft, you hated to admit it but nobody gave head like him. He truly enjoyed it, the closeness, the wet feel on his mouth the scent of your core deep in his nose in an addicting way. He kisses and licks through the fabric and your hips are pushing against his face, he goes to hold you down, he wants to take his time remembering every place, every tender touch that had you melting into his mouth. His eyes are closed and eyebrow scrunched in complete concentration. He is licking through the fabric applying sweet pressure on your clit but holding you tightly by the hips so you will let him set the pace. Little curses escape your lips as you whine into the air for him. “More Joost more.” You plead looking down at him with big wet eyes. He opens his eyes slowly, can barely make contact from his position but he wants to look at you all the same, wants to give you everything and anything you ask for.

He moves the fabric to the side and takes a deep lick into your core that has you twitching on his mouth, he spreads your folds open with his fingers and sucks your clit between his lips as you moan uncontrollably. When you both would do this in your apartment he would have to cover your mouth with one hand as he worked the other deep inside you because you were so deliciously loud all the way through, but you got complaints form the neighbors on more than one occasion that had you furiously blushing red even if to him it just filled him with pride that he could make you scream his name so loud; however now at his place you can be as loud as you want, as vocal as you can, he eats your sounds up and it pushes him forward, makes him suck at your clit harder feeling it twitch between his lips, makes him lick deeper like his jaw is not going to ache but for your pleasure any discomfort is worth it. He pushes his ring finger inside of the tender muscle of your core and feels you clamp down on him immediately, so needy and so sensitive already. He thinks it is a pity you mustn’t have had anyone to do this for you all these years when it should have been him always ready and mouth eager to please you. 

He pushes another finger into you, your hips rock hard against his hand like you are trying to get him deeper. You taste delicious, it is better than his fantasies, it is all you. His finger pump deep into you as he keeps trying to reach that spot that used to have you melting and when he finally finds it you all but scream and curse, there are tears falling from your eyes but it is all from pleasure and you look so beautiful, his eyes are glued on your face he wants to make sure he is making you feel good, making it worth your time now that you have give him this chance. He sneaks a hand upwards softly caressing your belly up to your chest and grabbing at one of your breasts and softly massaging feeling the pebbled nipple between his finger still wet form his spit and so hard begging for attention, he pinches at the sensitive skin and feels your cunt react immediately gushing on his fingers. His mouth is still connected to your sensitive bundle of nerves but you feel him moaning wildly, see how he is humping against the mattress, there is a wet spot of his pre-cum on the bedding that he doesn’t seem to care about, all but hypnotized with your pretty face and lascivious sounds. 

You take his hand, the one that is kneading at your chest, and pull it towards your mouth, you grab at his fingers and put them in your mouth letting the soft wet muscle of your tongue slide between them before you close your lips and suck greedily around them, it goes straight to his dick, he has to make a superhuman effort to not finish right then and there, he moans so deeply right against your clit you can feel your orgasm threatening to wash over you any second but you don’t want it like this, you want to feel him, now that you finally have him you want it all. 

You pull his fingers out of your mouth wet and shiny with spit and pull yourself slightly from his embrace before speaking in labored tone.

“Joost come here, kiss me.” 

He slowly pulls away from you with a slightly confused expression, he pulls his finger out of you softly but you still wince when you feel how empty you are without them. He crawls over you, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and asks. 

“Was it bad?” He looks genuine and a little disappointed. 

You laugh, that he could ever think that when you are all but melting on his palms and you were one shy lick away from coming in his mouth. 

“You are the best but I want to cum with you.” You explain. 

You cup his face on your hands and pull him into a deep kiss tasting yourself on his tongue it so erotic and nostalgic it makes you feel like you are in that tiny apartment so many years ago. You pull away slightly and sit up on bed, and pull your underwear down your legs.

His dick hangs heavy between his thighs, the tips is red and glistening with pre-cum you bite your lip in anticipation. Even if you liked to pretend like you didn’t, you had seen him just like this naked and ready for you on your dreams many times over the years but now you finally had him in front of you and you were so hungry for it. You take him in your palm stroke softly  at the velvety skin, feel him twitch under your touch, you bend down a little and look at him through half lidded eyes. 

“Can I?” You ask already licking your lips in anticipation, you have missed him so much he was always so vocal you want to hear his pretty sounds again, feel his warmth on your tongue and the way he fills your mouth.

 He looks at you with eyes full of adoration and caresses at your cheek with tattooed knuckles.

“I would love nothing more liefde, but if you do that I won’t last at all.” He says smiling brightly. His younger self would have probably bragged about his endurance then avoided even looking at you to not cum too fast but the man in front of you right now is so honest, he is naked but more than anything you feel he has stripped his soul bare, all for you. 

“Okay, yeah.” You nod stupidly, you don’t know what to say, he keeps dolling out loving words onto you and it is frying your brain slowly. You push your hair behind your ear to distract your hands. “How do you- how do you want me?” You ask timidly feeling shy all of a sudden like it is your first time and the way he is being so gentle and loving it might as well be. 

“Can you lay back down for me?” He asks, you nod and slowly, lay on bed again waiting for him. You don’t know what to do with your hands, you just rest them on your chest and feel how rapidly your heart is beating, you start getting shy all of a sudden. He looks so beautiful so grown, his arms are bigger, his face is more handsome, he feels like a stranger and you start getting timid that perhaps you don’t know him at all. He sees the hesitation in your eyes and asks softly as he caresses at your cheek. 

“Are you with me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod affirmatively and smile fondly. “I just- I can’t belive it is you.” 

He knows what you mean, he feels it himself. It is all so new but so old and rehearsed at the same time, he knows you, he knows it is you, and yet he also feels in awe of the person you have become while he was gone from your life. 

He nods overwhelmed with emotion to speak. You see how his eyes get shiny, you reach for his arms and feel the warm muscle beneath your palms as you pull him closer. You kiss at his cheek, at the corner of his lips, at the stray tear that escapes him. 

“You okay? We can stop if you want to.” You whisper softly massaging at the muscle of his shoulders. 

He shakes his head, sniffles softly and kisses you. “I am better than ever before” He says finally smiling ear to ear.  

“Okay.” You say smiling and laying back down. 

You spread your legs for him, he comes closer in the space between your thighs, you can feel the heat emanating from his body just a breath away. He grabs at your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist, now you are flush, your sexes barely touching it feels like kissing. His hand moves from the muscle of your thigh slowly up your belly resting on your navel, he is just feeling you, trying to memorize the feel of your body under him all over again. He looks at you and you nod at him, sometimes there is no need for words. 

He grabs his length in one hand and pumps himself a couple times before he lines himself up with you entrance. He pushes in you slowly, his bulbous tip catches on the wet warm muscle of your hole that all but flutters around him. Inch by inch he melts in your heat, his eyes stay on yours all the way to the point you have to look away to stay sane but he pulls you back with one gentle hand on your chin so he can see you, he has missed you so much, it has been so long, he has not stopped thinking about you for a single moment and he refuses to lose another minute. When he finally bottoms out he takes a deep breath and rest his forehead against yours, his skin is shinny with sweat and you must feel yours is too but you are too concentrated on the way his lips are but an inch from yours, how his breath is so warm and you are breathing it in, he becomes the air that you breath. 

Joost finally starts to move after a long minute of just feeling himself inside you, how your warm walls cling to him and pulse all around his length, he pulls away softly but not fully, his tip stays inside your heat before he pushes back in in swift motion. He had never been a selfish lover but now he seemed absolutely laser focused on your pleasure only, thrusting deeply inside you in fast hard motion then pulling out painfully slow, you keep gushing around him feeling yourself become closer to the edge by the second. He keeps his eyes trained on yours all the way. He caresses at the skin of you cheek and you chase his touch completely shameless pushing your head against his hand to feel more of him. You are moaning into each other’s mouths, drinking in each other’s sounds. 

He feels he won’t last long, he sits up slightly leaving you so lonely without his lips but you forgive him when his hand goes to the middle of your legs and he spreads your lips apart to press constant circles on your hard clit sending waves of pleasure up your spine. 

“You feel amazing schat.” He says when you clench on him at the added stimulation.

“I thought about you all the time.” He whimpers with a deep thrust.

“I can't believe I get to do this with you again I didn’t think it would happen.” He confesses as he pulls out, he can’t seem to stop his mouth.

“I’m never letting you go.” He thrust deeply into you again, your clit twitching under his thumb you feel your orgasm quickly building again all around him, walls pulsing wildly as he moves inside you. 

His words have you dizzy, his dick inside you feels divine pushing and pulling at your sensitive walls and his relentless deft fingers on your clit are threatening to send you over the edge any second, you think he must feel it the way you are throbbing on his length and gushing all over his cock. 

“I’m close Joost, don’t stop.” You whimper. 

He keeps the same rhythm that is quickly bringing you to your peak. You look so beautiful, your skin is covered in sweat, you hair is wild and tussled on his pillows, on his bed, your body splayed so beautifully on his mattress, he feels like you belong here, he wants you to belong here with him forever. He can’t stop the words from spilling from his mouth. 

“I love you.”

You cum, you gush all over him, clenching impossibly tighter on him, so much it makes his own hips stutter. Wild tears fall from your eyes as your hips move on their own trying to ride the rest of your high on him, you are breathing heavily you can only hear the pump of your blood on your own ears, you feels like you are falling back to earth rapidly. 

He still feels the beautiful spams of your release on his length as he watches stupefied how you cum and stays still while you ride your high on his dick just letting you enjoy your pleasure and catch you breath. Then he bends down to be closer to you, to kiss at your pretty lips. 

“Just a little more schat.” He promises against your ear, you nod dumbly unable to speak at all, you feel like he is taking you through a perpetual never ending orgasm that washes all over your body. 

His movements get more uncoordinated but he is still chasing his high as he holds you in tender hands, he keeps whispering soft words at you and little i-love-yous accompanying every move, you don’t really reply, you can’t, so you just kiss him back softly. He lets you, now it is you who needs time and if anything the years have made him more patient, not perfect but just better and you are worth all the wait it takes. 

He is hypnotized by the sight, by the way your bodies melt into each other the way your core keeps dripping sweet honey all over him, he knows you were made for each other, he wants you to know it too. He lets go of your thighs and goes to grab at your neck lifting your head softly from where it rests on the pillows. 

“Look” He says, his voice sounds like he is right inside your head.

He angles your head so you see where you are connected, you see his length disappear inside you and then see him again as he pulls out over and over again like waves crashing on the beach.

“Hold your legs for me.” You can’t reply, you become hypnotized by the sight as well, you wrap your hands around your knees and do as he says, he could probably talk you into anything right now. 

He leans over almost folding you in half, your muscles will be sore tomorrow but right now the stretch is so delicious you feel like you are alive for the first time in a long while all your nerves standing on fire.

“Look, we were made for each other.” He says all gone, completely lost in pleasure and the way you all but melt around him he might be right. 

You look up at him and he does the same, your eyes lock as his hips thrust deeply into you one last time as he comes deep into your walls painting everything with his thick release, he moans your name loudly, his hips stutter into yours, all uncoordinated with the last of his release, you hold onto him like he is a life vest, he almost closes his eyes from pleasure but makes the effort to keep them trained on your face all through it. 

“I love you.” He whimpers with a last thrust and you pull his face to yours to kiss him. 

He collapses onto you, his weight feels delicious if only a little suffocating, but you caress at the tired muscles of his arms, at his back, at his shoulders and neck as you slowly bring him down to earth to you again. You feel his heart beating rapidly inside his ribcage and his breaths are shallow as he tries to compose himself. You hold him through all of it and play with the hair at the nape of his neck that you have missed so much. You feel him soften inside you but you wish you could stay like this forever, eternally connected. 

Finally he gathers what little strength he has left and rolls over onto his back next to you in bed. He is still breathing heavy but he looks over at you so enamored, he brushes the hair away from your face to look at your properly as if he is doing it for the first time and you give him a smile in return. All blissed out and fucked out you truly are an angel come to life on his bed and he can’t fully belive it yet.

After a long moment just breathing slowly and looking at you he swallows deeply and pulls himself together for what he now knows he has to do. He rolls on his side so he can look at you better and you can feel he has something to say so you follow and do the same watching him expectantly. He clears his throat before speaking. 

“I really meant it, can we try again?” He asks looking deeply into your eyes. 

“I don't know.” You say honestly, seeing him was great, it would be a lie to say there weren’t butterflies in your stomach but you didn’t know what to do with that. 

“We can start from scratch.” He offers, you laugh at that. 

“Yeah how? We already know each other.” You say, he shakes his head.

“We have changed a lot.” He is right, he has become so mature you barley recognize him at all and you are also not the same it would be unfair to say so. 

“So what do we do?” You ask truthfully looking at him expectant. 

The Joost you had met would have probably shrugged and changed the topic but the one right now in front of you smiles back, pretty dimples adorning his face and says.

“I am Joost Klein, born and raised in Friesland, I am 26, I am a dancer, video editor, rapper and international super start amongst others, nice to meet you.”

He extends his hand at you waiting for you to shake it.

You think about it for a second, seeing his pretty eyes looking at you all sparkly and sweet, it takes you right back to the first time you met but now you are both so different it truly feels like it happened a life time ago. There is no point in thinking about it anymore, those people no longer exist, whatever they did is not part of today anymore and more importantly they were a little bit stupid.

So you extend your hand to shake his, the skin feels warm and still so soft. You like him, you think you do, maybe it is nostalgia, maybe in a few weeks, maybe in a few months you will realize this is not what you want and maybe that is okay, but right here right now he is looking at you full of hope and you want to share some of it, so you pull yourself closer let him wrap his arms around you and kiss him deeply. Tonight the sky is full of stars and you feel the nice warmth of his body lull you to sleep. You can dream in his embrace of a good future were you actually figure it out together and who knows maybe this time you can because this time he loves you and he actually says it. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: Thank you so much for reading this ended up being very long! Let me know your thoughts/comments pls and sorry for any mistakes my brain is fried lol! -`♡´-

[foodfightnovelization]

More Foodfight! Material DISCOVERED

That's right, I'm back. Just like I prophesized in my last post, yet another treasure trove of Foodfight! goodness has been uncovered, and this might be one of the strangest to date...that's right, official Foodfight! Cinnamon Sleuth Cereal was sold at Albertsons back in 2007, over five years before the movie finally came out!

Okay, not really, but I had you going for a second, right? So, this IS a proposed packaging design for actual Cinnamon Sleuth cereal, but it never went into production, it never made it to stores and there was certainly never any actual cereal to be eaten. This, among several other designs and a collection of behind the scenes material, was sent in recently by a Foodfight! crewmember, who explained they were mockups created to show off possible tie-in products. I'm not sure why they chose Albertsons for these mockups but it's likely they were in talks with them at the time and wanted to show off designs including their branding. In any case, I just had the Cinnamon Sleuth box printed because I thought it'd look cool next to my collection of Foodfight! merchandise, and I wanted to see if anyone would be convinced this really existed.

I've included all the designs above in case you want to print your own- there are several more including another cereal, brownie packaging and milk cartons. Curiously, the milk cartons have Farmland Dairy logos on them, with Farmland Milk actually appearing in the finished film at several points. I'd say this confirms my theory these mockups were created to show to companies they were already actively working on deals with, but I can't say for certain that was the case.

Equally curious are these character sheets from 2002, seemingly showing off almost every model created during early production. There are so many fascinating layers to this- Sunshine is still a human instead of a catgirl, showcasing a very different model to the one seen in the initial trailer, and Maximilius Moose is still a dog named Panzer Pup, both aspects that were changed once the decision was made to change Dex to a dog. However, it may be that Dex's human design was edited out and replaced after the fact, given Dex's model here appears to be the one from the finished film (you can tell by the weird hands). In any case, it's fascinating to get a closer look at all these characters- while the majority of the models for the main cast were found recently (see my last post for more on this), there are a bunch of side characters here we've only seen brief glimpses of before, including the Pringles man and the scantily-clad Cherry Waifer. The most fascinating to me however are the Red and Yellow M&Ms- I've read through their scene in the movie's script, I've seen multiple versions of the storyboard, even rough layout animation in the workprint, and it's only now I'm FINALLY getting to see their actual character models and how they would've looked in the Foodfight! artstyle. Sure, they more or less look exactly as they did in M&M commercials that aired around the same time, but it's still amazing to actually see these characters modelled and rendered after analyzing so many different iterations of the scene as it went through development.

The crewmember in question also sent a folder containing over a hundred stills which while at first glance appear to be from the finished movie, are actually subtly different in multiple ways- usually lighting, facial expressions, or background textures like the sky or color of a hill. A lot of these are labelled "fix" which makes me speculate if after the movie was completed, the crew went back and tried to touch up the animation to make it look more appealing before release. Is there a slightly better looking version of Foodfight! somewhere out there in the world? Who knows, but really it would've been like trying to polish a turd. The movie was already ruined by then, and I don't think any number small changes would've done much to salvage it. However, that does bring me to my next interesting point...

There are also storyboards dated May 2011, depicting an alternate opening to the movie giving a much more cinematic introduction to the main characters. It's crazy to think they were still working on storyboards so late in production, but there IS actually a reason for this. I unfortunately can't upload the entire sequence due to this site's image limit, but what you might notice are a lot of characters being described as "flying over the audience", "flying into the camera" or knocking things "into the audience", with some of the boards having "(3D)" written in parenthesis next to them. It's my belief that very late into production, Kasanoff wanted the movie to be 3D, made popular by the then-recent Avatar, and this new opening sequence full of flashy 3D effects was drawn up to show off what they could do with the technology. It's not clear if any of this was ever actually animated, but imagine going to see a movie that advertises itself as 3D but only the first minute contains any 3D elements. Of course, Kasanoff requesting this is only speculation on my part, but given how the movie was ruined by the crew having to cater to his whim of directing the whole thing with motion capture (made popular by the then-recent Polar Express) it's no stretch to assume the 3D opening sequence was a similar situation.

There's a ton more that was sent to us as well, so much so that I could never hope to talk about all of it. However, it should be on archive.org at the time of writing this if it isn't already, and you can now access everything Foodfight! related through the official Foodfight! collection on there!

That's right, so much Foodfight! material has been uploaded over the past year that the Internet Archive gave it its own archive, allowing you to find everything in one convenient place (including my scans of the novelization and Deluxe Sound Storybook). It'll also be updated periodically whenever something new is found, so it'll always be the home to all things Foodfight!. Whether you're wanting to take a look at some concept art shown in ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, read through an early draft of the script, or check out something I've talked about on my blog, it's all here at your fingertips.

I don't think there's ever really going to be an end to the depth of the Foodfight! rabbithole. I thought I was done a year ago when I finished analyzing the novelization, and look at everything that's been found since then. Every time I think I'm out, this movie pulls me back in. So...in my next post I'll FINALLY show off my collection of Foodfight! merchandise and talk about what this movie means to me, but that doesn't mean it's the end for this blog. Whenever I say I'm done with Foodfight! I end up jinxing it, so if I try to conclude things now in a few months some CD will show up with a bunch of lost footage on it, I'll get mailed concept art of a bunch of characters we've never seen before, or it'll turn out Larry Kasanoff was actually D.B. Cooper the whole time. So as long as there's something new to discuss, as long as there's a Foodfight to be fought, I'll keep updating this blog from now until forever. You better duck when they launch the cream pies!

[descendant-of-truth]

Sooo has anyone else noticed that Chaos Sonic seems to know things about Sonic that he logically shouldn't?

He constantly brings up Sonic's failures, describes him as looking "sad and pathetic" and being "tragic" when Sonic doesn't even look upset, and seems to have inherited chili dogs as his favorite food to boot.

But the Chaos Council doesn't know about Sonic's biggest failures. They don't know that he feels sad about anything, or that he likes chili dogs. Not even Nine knows these things in detail, and even if he did, we're not given any indication that he told the Council anything after giving them the initial idea for Chaos Sonic by accident.

And yet, he takes every opportunity to poke at Sonic's insecurities, even targeting his friends and blaming him for getting them hurt.

How does he know Sonic well enough to make these kinds of targeted remarks? I like that he can, it leads to a lot more interesting interactions than if he couldn't, but what's the in-universe explanation?

Well, Sonic absorbed some of the Prism's energy when it shattered, and Chaos Sonic was created mostly with the energy from the shards. While this could give them a sort of mental connection, it doesn't seem to go both ways, and I have a slightly more specific theory for how it all works.

That being: I think the Prism itself knows Sonic. Which is kind of a bold claim, I think, but hear me out.

First of all, the energy that's in Sonic's body (once tempered with Nine's tech of course) adapts his gloves and shoes to his environment in ways that'll protect him. New Yoke doesn't require anything special, but the Boscage Maze has tall trees that are difficult to climb, so it gives him retractable claws. No Place is filled with water, and Sonic can't swim, so he gets hover shoes to keep him afloat even if he falls in.

That's a suspicious amount of intent going on there, isn't it? And they appear the instant Sonic enters a new world, so he doesn't even encounter the obstacles his clothes are protecting him from before getting them. It's like the energy already knows what the world is like and what Sonic's capabilities are.

Secondly, Shadow reacts physically to the giant sparkly specter of Tails that shows up in the void, which tells me that those are all Actual Things that the Prism conjured up.

And that's. kind of weird, right? I just assumed these were symbolic of memories flashing through Sonic's head, but I guess they're also flashing through space itself, which I will admit did get a laugh out of me the first time I watched it

(They might not be "memories" exactly since we never flashback to when these lines were originally said, but they're certainly Something that came from Sonic's head so my point still stands)

Finally, when the Chaos Council uses the Prism energy to make the Giant Eggman, it specifically takes the form of the original. That didn't come from Mister Doctor's imagination - that's how Sonic remembers Eggman.

Not to mention, they keep hammering home how uniquely linked Sonic is to the Prism, so why not have it be the other way around? I'm not saying that the Paradox Prism has to have any kind of sentience for this theory to work (in fact I'd be surprised if it did), but it could be acting as a sort of container for data on Sonic, just like how Sonic is a container for its power.

And if that's the case, then it explains how Chaos Sonic knew so much; he's tapped into that very data bank from the get-go. It also complicates the question of how to restore the Prism a bit, because yeah Sonic might have to put his energy back into it, but does the Prism have to give anything back to him in return?

Regardless of the answer, I'm really looking forward to learning more about how the Paradox Prism works (and also any potential future Chaos Sonic appearances because I loved every moment he was on screen)

[inbrightshadows]

*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]

The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.

Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.

Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.

Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.

Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.

And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.

Then there's Leo.

In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.

Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.

He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.

And then Casey Jr gets sick.

It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.

It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.

There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.

Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’

Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.

It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.

But bad luck is bad luck.

Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.

“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.

Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  

The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  

The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.

Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.

And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.

So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.

When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.

“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.

“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.

Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.

Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.

That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.

The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.

He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.

He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.

His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.

All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.

On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.

“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 

Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.

Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.

It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.

There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.

To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.

The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.

He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.

Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.

“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.

Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.

Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.

Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.

He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.

“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.

Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.

“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.

Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.

He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.

Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.

He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.

“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.

A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.

Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”

Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”

“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”

Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”

Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.

“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.

He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.

For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.

It’s gone.

Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.

“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.

Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.

The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.

He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.

“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.

“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”

Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.

There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.

He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.

Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.

Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.

“Bemused scoff.”

Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.

“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”

Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”

“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.

“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.

“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.

It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.

Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.

The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.

And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.

Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.

He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.

It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.

“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.

“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.

“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.

“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.

“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.

“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.

Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.

“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”

“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.

Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.

“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.

The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.

“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”

Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.

“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”

Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.

Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.

“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.

Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.

“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.

Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.

Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”

And Leo lies.

Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.

“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  

Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.

[amazinglyegg]

Due to not being able to find a decent reference for Danse's room, I used this video to sketch out a floor plan!!

Along with references for what all the furniture looks like:

Details and rambling below the cut!

General notes:

The only time we see his room is after Blind Betrayal. I wonder if he brought anything from his room with him, despite leaving the duffle bag near the door?

He has a ton of storage space. Like, a lot. He doesn't even have a footlocker at the end of his bed it's just an entire metal box.

Despite that, he has nowhere to sit. Not even his desk has a chair.

Also he has a rug between his bed and his big drawer! Cute!

Pet food bowl near his door with fresh bloatfly meat in it. Not only does he manually open the door for Emmett to enter and leave (no cat door), but Emmett visits often enough that he goes out of his way to give him a bowl of fresh food! Does Quinlan even feed him!?

Has a lot of random cardboard boxes filled with papers and stuff on his floor. Given that the filing cabinet is for files, I wonder if these are books or journals?

Has a plain old bed with no pillows or blankets. Like most beds, this is probably done for game reasons (like animations or clipping) instead of canon reasons. At least I HOPE he sleeps with a blanket!!

On top of his safe is three dog food cans, maybe supposed to represent cat food. Also has a can of cram on his big drawer. I wonder if he stores more food in there!

The flag is actually a smaller one, but I couldn't find the exact model on the wiki. I find it interesting that he has a pole flag instead of a regular wall one. It just looks so sad :(

Has a lot of small blue and wood boxes around his room that I didn't include in the floor plan, they're empty I'm pretty sure

I didn't realize people outside of middle school used lockers, especially SIX of them. What do you even store in lockers?? Can't be clothes since they have multiple segments, hung clothes wouldn't fit and folded clothes would probably fall out.

No real personal stuff like holotapes or journal entries. I would have expected something unique! He also has no decorations other than that one sad droopy flag, but I guess it'd be hard to hang up paintings when the walls are made of metal. Can't just hammer a nail into that!

As a note, I think items within storage containers are randomized, so I didn't bother looking at them while making this.

Desk and filing cabinet:

Whisky and vodka bottles, no shot glass in sight. He is chugging those straight from the bottle. Not as many bottles as Maxson, at least!

Also an entire carton of cigarettes and an ashtray. He canonically smokes and doesn't even bother going outside to do it, his room must reek of cigarettes.

A food tray and mug, which is... interesting? Does he often eat alone in his room?

Filing cabinet for files, probably does paperwork at this desk as well.

Drawers:

Has like, three wrenches, as well as a tool box. This must be his workshop!

A lunch pail and a nuka cola. This table is right next to his desk so it makes sense he has food and drinks here. Surprised there's no water!

Speaking of the table... it's an institute table. Probably just done for aesthetic purposes, but I found that interesting

Let me know if you have any opinions, headcanons, or things I missed!

[ozzgin]

heya...!!!! Sweetypie 🍓🥧🧁.... It's me again, i want to make a request again...if you don't mind 😃.

Can you make a request regarding creepypasta with ticci tobby and eyelash Jack .Previous request for a creepypasta

Most certainly! Though my drafts are a mess so I’m no longer sure what the previous request refers to. ;-; Hopefully this is close to what you pictured.

Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader

Featuring Ticci-Toby and Eyeless Jack and a clueless reader that caught their attention. TW: dubious consent, gore and violence

Ticci-Toby

Oh, he really can’t explain it but you’ve tied his heart into a knot. His chest is tight and it’s almost as if his lungs struggle to get enough oxygen. You seem kind and he can’t help but daydream that he’s the subject to your friendly gestures. He feels like a spoiled child, drinking up every drop of affection, tipsy with delight. If only those doll eyes of yours looked at him.

He’s hesitant to approach you because his moods are so unpredictable. He’d love to shower you in adoration and spend the rest of his life protecting you from any threats. Then comes his rage and he’s tempted to scratch your face off for smiling to anyone else but him. Why are you trying so hard for other people? No one appreciates you as much as he does, (Y/N). Is his attention not enough? Does he need to hold your gaze in by force?

Suffice to say that Ticci-Toby can be extremely jealous and possessive well before you’re even aware of his existence. Unlike Eyeless Jack, however, he is very open about his displays of love and doesn’t wait too long to introduce himself. His impulsive desires take over any consideration he’s had regarding your safety in front of his mood swings. He can worry about it when it actually happens. Now matter the anger, he’d never hurt his darling, would he? It’s the others that will have to pay.

If he’s feeling particularly hyperactive he will begin parroting his reasons for your fated romance and why you were meant to be. If anxiety equates in, the narrations turn into regurgitated, repetitive questions stemming out of insecurity. Are you really certain you haven’t gotten tired of him? Truly, without a doubt? Perhaps you were thinking of leaving him? The interrogations culminate in desperate begging for reassurance. Please let him know you’ll never, ever abandon him. Otherwise he will have to guarantee it himself one way or another.

Eyeless Jack

You happened to be the next victim on his list. The creature stood above your sleeping form in absolute silence. You barely shuffled at the sudden coldness from the edge of the scalpel coming into contact with your abdomen. The blade, however, remained still on the surface. The hollow sockets were fixated on your unconscious face, seemingly deep in consideration.

He can’t quite pinpoint a reasoning to it, but your presence has caught his interest. On the bright side, you get to keep your kidney. The only caveat is that you now have a rather dedicated admirer with a less orthodox approach to his growing crush.

Jack primarily enjoys watching you from afar and leaves only vague hints of his presence. Which, of course, depends on your definition of vague. At first you didn’t make the connection between the people wronging you in your daily life and the mysterious packages you’d receive in the mail containing frozen raw organs. You had assumed some neighbor might’ve gotten some subscription for their dog and messed up the address. As the news piled up, often involving these particular people as abruptly missing, your suspicions increased. Especially after noticing that none of your neighbors seem to have pets. And then the love notes started and you nearly threw up next to your mailbox.

Jack is fidgeting like a schoolgirl upon seeing your reaction to his confessions. Could you be that overwhelmed by his love? It wasn’t a big deal, really. He’s just doing what he’s best at. He’s just glad to ease your life by erasing the factors that upset you. You don’t have to worry about returning his favors. Humans come with two kidneys for a reason, after all. They were made for sharing.

Now that he’s gotten his answer, he can confidently approach you. He can’t wait to get his claws on you. You look stunning from a distance, too, but nothing compares to actually feeling you. Hearing your whimpers of shy protest, sensing the increased pulse tumultuously running through your veins, observing your pupils contract in mild…fear? No, most likely just excitement. His spiraling black eyes (or rather, lack of) devour your presence with anatomical curiosity. If he’s careful enough, he might even play with you a little. He’ll be extra careful with his darling.

[nostalgebraist]

thoughts on xDOTcom/CorralSummer/status/1823504569097175056 tumblrDOTcom/antinegationism/758845963819450368 ?

I mostly try to ignore AI art debates, and as a result I feel like I don't have enough context to make sense of that twitter exchange. That said...

It's about generative image models, and whether they "are compression." Which seems to mean something like "whether they contain compressed representations of their training images."

I can see two reasons why partisans in the AI art wars might care about this question:

If a training image is actually "written down" inside the model, in some compressed form that can be "read off" of the weights, it would then be easier to argue that a copyright on the image applies to the model weights themselves. Or to make similar claims about art theft, etc. that aren't about copyright per se.

If the model "merely" consists of a bunch of compressed images, together with some comparatively simple procedure for mixing/combining their elements together (so that most of the complexity is in the images, not the "combining procedure"), this would support the contention that the model is not "creative," is not "intelligent," is "merely copying art by humans," etc.

I think the stronger claim in #2 is clearly false, and this in turn has implications for #1.

(For simplicity I'll just use "#2", below, as a shorthand for "the stronger claim in #2," i.e. the thing about compressed images + simple combination procedure)

I can't present, or even summarize, the full range of the evidence against #2 in this brief post. There's simply too much of it. Virtually everything we know about neural networks militates against #2, in one way or another.

The whole of NN interpretability conflicts with #2. When we actually look at the internals of neural nets and what is being "represented" there, we rarely find anything that is specialized to a single training example, like a single image. We find things that are more generally applicable, across many different images: representations that mean "there's a curved line here" or "there's a floppy ear here" or "there's a dog's head here."

The linked post is about an image classifier (and a relatively primitive one), not an image generator, but we've also found similar things inside of generative models (e.g.).

I also find it difficult to understand how anyone could seriously believe #2 after actually using these models for any significant span of time, in any nontrivial way. The experience is just... not anything like what you would expect, if you thought they were "pasting together" elements from specific artworks in some simplistic, collage-like way. You can ask them for wild conjunctions of many different elements and styles, which have definitely never been represented before in any image, and the resulting synthesis will happen at a very high, humanlike level of abstraction.

And it is noteworthy that, even in the most damning cases where a model reliably generates images that are highly similar to some obviously copyrighted ones, it doesn't actually produce exact duplicates of those images. The linked article includes many pairs of the form (copyrighted image, MidJourney generation), but the generations are vastly different from the copyrighted images on the pixel level -- they just feel "basically the same" to us, because they have the same content in terms of humanlike abstract concepts, differing only in "inessential minor details."

If the model worked by memorizing a bunch of images and then recombining elements of them, it should be easy for it to very precisely reproduce just one of the memorized images, as a special case. Whereas it would presumably be difficult for such a system to produce something "essentially the same as" a single memorized image, but differing slightly in the inessential details -- what kind of "mixture," with some other image(s), would produce this effect?

Yet it's the latter that we see in practice -- as we'd expect from a generator that works in humanlike abstractions.

And this, in turn, helps us understand what's going in in the twitter dispute about "it's either compression or magic" vs. "how could you compress so much down to so few GB?"

Say you want to make a computer display some particular picture. Of, I dunno, a bird. (The important thing is that it's a specific picture, the kind that could be copyrighted.)

The simplest way to do this is just to have the computer store the image as a bitmap of pixels, without any compression.

In this case, it's unambiguous that the image itself is being represented in the computer, with all the attendant copyright (etc.) implications. It's right there. You can read it off, pixel by pixel.

But maybe this takes up too much computer memory. So you try using a simple form of compression, like JPEG compression.

JPEG compression is pretty simple. It doesn't "know" much about what images tend to look like in practice; effectively, it just "knows" that they tend to be sort of "smooth" at the small scale, so that one tiny region often has similar colors/intensities to neighboring tiny regions.

Just knowing this one simple fact gets you a significant reduction in file size, though. (The size of this reduction is a typical reference point for people's intuitions about what "compression" can, and can't, do.)

And here, again, it's relatively clear that the image is represented in the computer. You have to do some work to "unpack" it, but it's simple work, using an algorithm simple enough that a human can hold the whole thing in their mind at once. (There is probably at least one person in existence, I imagine, who can visualize what the encoded image looks like when they look at the raw bytes of a JPEG file, like those guys in The Matrix watching the green text fall across their terminal screens.)

But now, what if you had a system that had a whole elaborate library of general visual concepts, and could ably draw these concepts if asked, and could draw them in any combination?

You no longer need to lay out anything like a bitmap, a "copy" of the image arranged in space, tile by tile, color/intensity unit by color/intensity unit.

It's a bird? Great, the system knows what birds look like. This particular bird is an oriole? The system knows orioles. It's in profile? The system knows the general concept of "human or animal seen in profile," and how to apply it to an oriole.

Your encoding of the image, thus far, is a noting-down of these concepts. It takes very little space, just a few bits of information: "Oriole? YES. In profile? YES."

The picture is a close-up photograph? One more bit. Under bright, more-white-than-yellow light? One more bit. There's shallow depth of field, and the background is mostly a bright green blur, some indistinct mass of vegetation? Zero bits: the system's already guessed all that, from what images of this sort tend to be like. (You'd have to spend bits to get anything except the green blur.)

Eventually, we come to the less essential details -- all the things that make your image really this one specific image, and not any of the other close-up shots of orioles that exist in the world. The exact way the head is tilted. The way the branch, that it sits on, is slightly bent at its tip.

This is where most of the bits are spent. You have to spend bits to get all of these details right, and the more "arbitrary" the details are -- the less easy they are to guess, on the basis of everything else -- the more bits you have to spend on them.

But, because your first and most abstract bits bought you so much, you can express your image quite precisely, and still use far less room than JPEG compression would use, or any other algorithm that comes to mind when people say the word "compression."

It is easy to "compress" many specific images inside a system that understands general visual concepts, because most of the content of an image is generic, not unique to that image alone.

The ability to convey all of the non-unique content very briefly is precisely what provides us enough room to write down all the unique content, alongside it.

This is basically the way in which specific images are "represented" inside Stable Diffusion and MidJourney and the like, insofar as they are. Which they are, not as a general rule, but occasionally, in the case of certain specific images -- due to their ubiquity in the real world and hence in the training data, or due to some deliberate over-sampling of them in that data.

(In the case of MidJourney and the copyrighted images, I suspect the model was [over-?]heavily trained on those specific images -- perhaps because they were thought to exemplify the "epic," cinematic MidJourney house style -- and it has thus stored more of their less-essential details than it has with most training images. Typical regurgitations from image generators are less precise than those examples, more "abstract" in their resemblance to the originals -- just the easy, early bits, with fewer of the expensive less-essential details.)

But now -- is your image of the oriole "represented" in computer memory, in this last case? Is the system "compressing" it, "storing" it in a way that can be "read off"?

In some sense, yes. In some sense, no.

This is a philosophical question, really, about what makes your image itself, and not any of the other images of orioles in profile against blurred green backgrounds.

Remember that even MidJourney can't reproduce those copyrighted images exactly. It just makes images that are "basically the same."

Whatever is "stored" there is not, actually, a copy of each copyrighted image. It's something else, something that isn't the original, but which we deem too close to the original for our comfort. Something of which we say: "it's different, yes, but only in the inessential details."

But what, exactly, counts as an "inessential detail"? How specific is too specific? How precise is too precise?

If the oriole is positioned just a bit differently on the branch... if there is a splash of pink amid the green blur, a flower, in the original but not the copy, or vice versa...

When does it stop being a copy of your image, and start being merely an image that shares a lot in common with yours? It is not obvious where to draw the line. "Details" seem to span a whole continuous range of general-to-specific, with no obvious cutoff point.

And if we could, somehow, strip out all memory of all the "sufficiently specific details" from one of these models -- which might be an interesting research direction! -- so that what remains is only the model's capacity to depict "abstract concepts" in conjunction?

If we could? It's not clear how far that would get us, actually.

If you can draw a man with all of Super Mario's abstract attributes, then you can draw Super Mario. (And if you cannot, then you are missing some important concept or concepts about people and pictures, and this will hinder you in your attempts to draw other, non-copyrighted entities.)

If you can draw an oriole, in profile, and a branch, and a green blur, then you can draw an oriole in profile on a branch against a green blur. And all the finer details? If one wants them, the right prompt should produce them.

There is no way to stop a sufficiently capable artist from imitating what you have done, if it can imitate all of the elements of which your creation is made, in any imaginable combination.

[gleamingyu]

hits different.

part I of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swift’s midnights. part II

pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]

genre: romance. slight angst. drama.

warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). mentions of a pretty rough breakup. slight angst. some light cursing. mentions of death (jokingly though). terrible knowledge of law stuff (thank my brief interest in htgawm). yearning. loads of miscommunication. slow burn. cheol & reader are both stubborn. mentions of drinking. alternating povs. lower caps intended [if there’s anything i missed, please let me know!]

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is the first part of a new series i thought of! this is also my first time writing (or more like, finishing writing) something, so please be kind! any comments, reblogs or likes are welcome. and thank you to whoever decides to give this a chance :)

summary: still recovering from a not-so-fresh breakup, seungcheol leans on his friends to get back on his feet. it turns out to be much easier said than done, especially when his record label recruits the help of a law firm to deal with a recent scandal, which just so happens to be the same firm his ex works at. just his luck.

if anyone could see the scene in front of mingyu, they’d be severely concerned, much like he is at this very moment.

seungcheol is quite literally buried under a pile of blankets on his bed, the only visible part of his body a tuft of his dark brown hair. the floor of his bedroom is covered in clothes and empty food containers, and the air feels so stale and hot, it’s taking everything in mingyu not to gag. there is no light coming into the room except from the lightbulb shining in the hallway where mingyu is standing, and… is that… phoebe bridgers he can hear playing from somewhere?

mingyu glances down at his feet where kkuma, seungcheol’s devoted dog – and only girl who’s ever truly loved him, according to him – is sitting staring right back at him, a look on her fluffy face that mingyu swears looks just as depressed as her dad.

“this is way worse than i thought,” mingyu sighs, finally stepping into the bedroom. “okay, enough of this!”

mingyu grabs the blankets on the bed and pulls them away, revealing a very aggravated seungcheol. “what the hell are you doing?!”

“i’m not sure yet, because this,” mingyu gestures around the room, “is a lot. but it starts with you getting your ass out of bed and into the shower. immediately. this place smells like there’s a corpse somewhere in here.”

“yeah, it’s me. i’m the corpse. or i wish i was, because that would mean i’ve finally died,” seungcheol groans, turning away from mingyu and effectively shoving his face into the bed.

mingyu sighs, turning around to start collecting some of the dirty clothes on the floor. he finds himself regretting not calling jeonghan or joshua to come with him, because seungcheol might have been more easily persuaded to stop moping with them around. the reality is, they all thought seungcheol was doing better; he was back on his grind at work, finishing several albums he had been producing for, he was making progress in his jiu-jitsu classes, and he even joined the rest of the guys on their trip to australia last month, with minimal persuasion from his friends.

looking at the shell of a man laying on the bed in front of him, mingyu realizes he should’ve asked. he should’ve asked his friend how he was really doing, what he was feeling, what he could actually do to help him move past this.

better late than never.

“listen,” mingyu starts, going to sit on the edge of seungcheol’s bed but reconsidering. who knows when he last changed these. “i’m sorry if we haven’t really been there for you. i know a thing or two about breakups and heartbreak, so i guess i should’ve figured you weren’t alright, not like you said you were. you don’t have to keep all you’re feeling locked up. you can talk to us.”

seungcheol’s head moves slightly to the side, peeking at mingyu from the corner of his eye. he sighs, and turns on his back. mingyu tries not to cringe at seungcheol’s sullen face, his eyes red and still wet, as if he was still crying when mingyu arrived at his apartment.

“don’t beat yourself up, gyu. believe it or not, i was actually doing better. but a few days ago, i … i was cleaning around the closet by the entrance and …” he pauses, and mingyu thinks he might burst into tears. seungcheol breathes in however, closes his eyes, and continues. “i found one of her old hats. you know, the yellow crochet bucket hat she always used to wear in the summer? i bought it for her birthday when we had just started dating and … i don’t know, i just broke down. it hit me again that we’re over. like really.”

you and seungcheol broke up … four, five months ago? seungcheol shakes his head, he feels like time hasn’t passed the same since. days pass him by where he just goes over and over your last conversation – which was more of a fight, really – and he always ends up regretting everything he said that day. regrets resenting you for always working late, for never asking him to accompany you to firm events… regrets accusing you of some unspeakable things.

looking back, he can’t believe how big of an idiot he was. no wonder you left and didn’t even bother to come back to get your things. you left everything behind, all your clothes that still smelled of the lavender detergent you used to buy, your makeup haphazardly thrown into one of the bathroom drawers, the cooking books you always bought “for inspiration” but never, ever actually opened… and the yellow bucket hat you got from seungcheol for the first birthday you spent together. seungcheol had left everything where it was, a tiny part of him hoping you two would work this out somehow. but weeks went by with no word from you, and when he had tried reaching you, he came to the grave conclusion that you had blocked him on all platforms, cut him off from your life like a dead limb. back then he thought he deserved it. he still does.

“i’m sorry, hyung. i really am,” mingyu shakes seungcheol from his reverie, reaching a hand to pet his shoulder. a beat passes between them. “have you tried… calling her again since?”

“no. i don’t know what good it would do,” seungcheol sighs. “even if she answered, i doubt all the apologies i could offer would fix anything. i said some pretty fucked up shit.”

“yeah, i know. if you remember, i was there the next day ripping you a new one,” mingyu teases, desperately trying to cheer up his friend somehow. he swears he can see seungcheol’s lips twitch a bit. “but who knows… now that you both had some time to yourselves, you might actually be able to overcome this calmly. and if… if it doesn’t work out in the end, at least you’ll both have some closure.”

closure. that’s a funny word, because seungcheol wants the furthest thing from closure. he wants you back in his bed and your arms around him, he wants your indie artists he’s never heard of playing around the apartment in the morning, he wants your laugh echoing in the halls. he wants you.

he knows that the only way this ending could even be a possibility would be if he actually took mingyu’s advice and called you up, but another part of him is terrified of the other possibility: the one where you pick up and tell him to go to hell and fuck himself and never call you again or show his face around you. so for now, seungcheol opts for a third option: emotional limbo, with a side of trying-to-move-on.

he gets up from the bed and asks mingyu if he could help him straighten out the place. mingyu, bless his sweet heart, of course says yes and gets to work after sending seungcheol to clean himself up. just as he’s about to close the bathroom door, he hears mingyu’s exasperated voice.

“oh, for the love of god, where is that god-awful music coming from?!”

seungcheol can’t remember the last time he laughed so heartily.

the bar you find yourself in is bustling with people, laughter and cheerful conversations filling the space. you’re only half listening to whatever topic your two best friends, yunjin and chaeyoung, are discussing – something about “that bitch” in yunjin’s department at work that’s been giving her a hard time – instead reveling in the pleasant buzz of the champagne you’re nursing.

it had been a while since you were able to enjoy a nice evening with your girls. the past few months had been filled with endless meetings, client-induced headaches and sleepless nights, but thankfully, today you had managed to finally strike a deal for one of the firm’s most important clients (to be read as filthy rich), which you had been working towards all these months. naturally, upon hearing the news, chaeyoung and yunjin had begged you to join them at a bar in the city, “to celebrate your newfound freedom.”

you splurged on a bottle of champagne for the three of you and decided that tonight, you were going to have fun. you were going to relax, enjoy some drink, and catch up with your friends who you hadn’t seen in weeks.

and you will not, under any circumstances, bring up seungcheol.

you like to believe that in the last two months you had gotten better at shutting out any thought of your ex-boyfriend. in the days – more like weeks, if you were to ask chaeyoung and yunjin – following the ugly breakup, you were quite the literal mess. finding yourself alone and with nowhere to go, considering you had left the apartment you shared with seungcheol with nothing but your work stuff (how on-brand for you), it wasn’t surprising that your mental and emotional health had taken a massive hit. thankfully, at the insistence of yunjin, you agreed to crash at her place while you put yourself back together and took time off from work – something you had never done before.

to the surprise of your friends, it only took you two weeks to go back to work and start looking for your own place. two weeks after that, you were moving into a new apartment and claimed that you were feeling much better since the breakup. or at least starting to. chaeyoung and yunjin didn’t want to argue with you on this – even thought they 100% believed the front you were putting up was a load of crap – but in the end, they didn’t even have to, because the first time you went out with them again since the breakup, you had your first meltdown.

but was it really your fault that the man sitting two seats down the bar from you had ordered whiskey neat, just like seungcheol always used to? and was it really your fault that he was wearing a maroon leather jacket similar to the one seungcheol always used to wear in the fall, which you absolutely adored?

could they really blame you for bursting into tears right then and there and wailing about how much of a jerk seungcheol was for never understanding your dedication to your work? how much of a hypocrite he was for expecting you to just dip from the office when he suddenly had some free time, when he had never done so for you?

that night, chaeyoung and yunjin quite literally dragged you back to chaeyoung’s place and held you while you cried yourself to sleep, and in the morning, when you had embarrassingly admitted that “no, you weren’t really doing fine,” they held you again and offered soft-spoken words of support, opting to keep the classic we told you so in their thoughts.

four months passed since that incident and now, you could confidently say that you were truly feeling better. you weren’t quite over seungcheol per se; there were nights when you still thought about the smell of vanilla that filled the room whenever he was fresh out of a shower, the way he always got so giggly when you brought home a tray of cherries… yeah, you still found yourself missing him terribly sometimes. but the more time passed, you realized that seungcheol hadn’t tried reaching you at all in the months since the breakup, and so you thought he might be moving on as well.

it is true you had blocked him on all social platforms for weeks after you stormed out of your place. but on a particularly bad day, when all you did was cry and cry and cry after him, the thought of calling him up and asking him to go back to how things were crossed your mind, and you unblocked his number. unfortunately, your pride had set itself in your way, convincing you that it was seungcheol that needed to make the first step, considering he was the one who quite literally cornered you into a fight. so you didn’t call and instead prayed to whatever forces exist in the universe, that seungcheol would try your number again.

he never did.

“soooo, cheers to the lady of the hour! finally free from the clutches of corporate law!” yunjin cheered, clinking her glass against yours and knocking you out of your reverie.

damn it, seungcheol, i said i would not think of you tonight!

“yes, cheers!” chaeyoung joined in. “how do you feel? are you going to get a big ass bonus for the amount of time you put into this asshole?”

chaeyoung was probably right, you probably did deserve a huge ass bonus for the deal you pulled for the client you were handling. when you were in law school, you had never imagined yourself working for sleazy, corporate pigs who behaved like none of their actions would bite them in the ass eventually, and expecting others – like yourself – to clean up after them. but, as your boss grimly explained to you the day you had complained about your client, everybody has to start somewhere. “and junior partners don’t get to choose cases, sweetheart.”

life at the firm wasn’t always terrible. you were lucky enough to be part of an amazing team, and the firm worked with plenty of influential and big personalities, so you almost never had to worry about your income. but sometimes, some of the people you were asked to represent brought you to the brink of just quitting your job altogether.

“i just feel relieved,” you say. “if i had to hear the incessant whining and nagging of that idiot for one more day, i might have gone insane!”

“well, thank god you’re a stellar lawyer and managed to get rid of him,” yunjin teases, taking a sip of her drink. “do you already have anything else lined up?”

“god, no! i have a few days off just to take care of paperwork, maybe help out some of my colleagues around the office… but nothing big for now, thankfully.”

“oh, that’s amazing! which reminds me, this means you can actually join us on that weekend spa trip we were talking about last week,” chaeyoung happily suggests, as she’s already pulling up the website of the spa retreat.

“i guess a spa day would be nice,” you say, looking over at chaeyoung’s phone. you feel your body already going lax at the thought of a hot stone massage.

“oh, that would be so nice!” yunjin pouts. “we haven’t gone on a girls trip in so long! i miss going away, just the three of us… do you guys remember that trip we took to croatia two years ago? that was the best one we ever did, i swear!”

while chaeyoung joins yunjin in reminiscing about all the trips the three of you took over the years, you feel your phone buzzing in the pocket of your dress paints. pulling it out, you see an email notification…

“oh, no…” your voice trails off, reading over the email you had just received.

“what? what’s the matter?” yunjin asks, her conversation with chaeyoung coming to a halt.

“my boss just emailed me. he wants me in the office tomorrow morning. some big case that just came in,” you explain, already feeling a headache coming in.

“but tomorrow’s saturday,” chaeyoung frowns.

“i know… i know.”

when monday rolls around, seungcheol really wished that he had died before mingyu had found him the week before.

the day started normal enough. he woke up at 5 a.m. and took kkuma for a walk in the park near his apartment building, just like every morning. by 8 a.m., he was already set up in his studio inside the PLEDIS building, ready to work on the tracks he was supposed to finish mixing by the end of the week. seungcheol liked the buzz of the label, people from all different departments running around trying to stay on their schedules; it motivated him to also do his part diligently, and reminded him that he was extremely lucky to be doing one of the things he loves most: music.

seungcheol should’ve guessed something was up today the moment the clock struck 11 and jihoon, the other in-house producer of PLEDIS, and one of his oldest friends, hadn’t come by his studio. he and jihoon had known each other since their college days, having met in an audio engineering class they apparently shared, and had been friends for 8 years now. during their last year of college, they were recruited by a record label that was just starting out (which became the PLEDIS of today), and despite all warnings from their families, they decided to take a leap of faith together and join the company. it all worked out for the better, it turned out, as PLEDIS only grew and soon became a household name in the music industry.

as the only producers that have stuck around PLEDIS since the beginning, they developed several… traditions, or rituals over the years, one of which was jihoon’s 11 a.m. coffee run, which they’d spend sharing ideas and notes over each other’s work, and, if jihoon was in a particularly good mood, engage in some office gossip (not that either of them would ever admit it). today, however, jihoon is a no-show and seungcheol can’t help but wonder what his friend is up to.

when he shoots jihoon a quick text, asking if he’s alright, his friend only replies with a “just busy,” and tells seungcheol not to wait up for him at lunch, as he’ll probably be stuck in the studio all day. this doesn’t surprise him that much, seeing as jihoon might be an even bigger workaholic than he is, but he still can’t shake the feeling that something must be up with his friend. he decides that instead of going out for lunch, he’s gonna pick up some takeout and join jihoon in his studio. he wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing his friend will go a day without eating anything.

once lunch hours begin, seungcheol takes a quick walk two blocks down the street to the restaurant mingyu works in, who’s already waiting for him with the food seungcheol had requested for him and jihoon. on his way back to PLEDIS, he texts jihoon again, just to make sure he’s still in the studio, but there’s no answer, and now seungcheol is seriously starting to get worried. he jogs the rest of the way until he’s back inside the building, and takes the elevator to the 6th floor where jihoon’s studio is stationed.

walking up to the door that reads UNIVERSE FACTORY, he stops in his tracks when he hears more than one voice from the other side of the door. he easily recognizes jihoon’s voice, but the other voices – two other men and a woman – are harder to make out. except… except the woman’s voice is eerily familiar, and without a second thought, seungcheol grips the handle and swings the door open, four pairs of eyes whipping in his direction.

his eyes land on jihoon, who looks like he wishes he was anywhere else in that moment, and then scan the rest of room, recognizing mr. han, their CEO, and… you. it’s you.

seungcheol feels like he’s going to faint. mr. han does not look the least bit happy about seungcheol’s intrusion, and he really wishes the man would slap him just so he can know for sure if he’s dreaming. if you’re surprised to see seungcheol, your face shows no sign of it, and seungcheol can’t help but stare at you. you look so beautiful, so put together; your make-up is soft, almost unnoticeable, your hair pushed behind your ears, and you’re wearing a dark green suit… oh, how he loved you in green.

you were the picture of grace and professionalism and he was… not. he really wishes he hadn’t come to the studio in sweatpants right now.

“mr. choi, what a… surprise,” mr. han exclaims, standing up from his seat, you and the other man – who seungcheol has no idea who he is, but he knows he doesn’t like the way he’s standing so close to you – following suit. “i didn’t know mr. lee was expecting you,” mr. han continues, glancing towards jihoon, who turned red as a tomato.

“i wasn’t, actually,” jihoon squeaks, avoiding both seungcheol and mr. han’s gazes.

“i apologize, i was… i was just bringing jihoon some lunch. i didn’t know there was… a meeting happening,” seungcheol says, looking towards you, and he’s almost thrown back by the way you’re just… staring directly at him.

mr. han sighs, but remembering the situation, he quickly puts on a polite smile as he turns towards you and the other man. “mr. choi is one of our other in-house producers. mr. choi, this is mr. jeon and miss L/N. they’re helping us with some… legal matters.”

so that’s why you were here. and who the other guy was. but what legal matters? and why was jihoon involved? and why didn’t he tell seungcheol?!

before seungcheol can ask more questions, mr. han gestures towards the door he came through and says “now, if you don’t mind, you can come back in a few minutes, mr. choi. we’ll be done soon.”

soon. soon, his ass!

seungcheol had been pacing the hallway outside jihoon’s studio for the past 20 minutes (he checked, he wasn’t exaggerating!), trying very hard not to eavesdrop through the door, and thinking of every possible reason why jihoon would need legal help and why you would be here.

jihoon was definitely in some kind of trouble. for the CEO to be involved as well, it for sure must be something that could affect the whole label. seungcheol just can’t understand why jihoon wouldn’t tell him if he had any kind of problem. they were colleagues, but most importantly, they were friends. he would’ve dropped everything to come to his aid.

now, when it comes to you… seungcheol knows you’re a lawyer, obviously he does. he met you when you were halfway through law school, and he was there for every failed and aced exam, for your graduation (he was so proud of you that day, it was the first time you’d ever seen him cry), for every measly job you had before finally securing the one you currently held at one of the top firms in the city. he also knows you’re a damn good lawyer, seeing how hard you work and how dedicated you are. he supposes it’s not surprising you were chosen to represent jihoon in whatever mess he got himself in.

he feels bad now that he remembers how he held these things above your head during your last fight. how you were working late so often, how you never asked him to join you at office parties, despite how eager you always were to go out with your coworkers for drinks, how you always asked him to wait for you outside the office building, as if you didn’t want people to know you had a partner...

he knows that both of you were to blame for how things went down between you, but since he started the argument in the first place, he thinks he could’ve brought all this up in a better way, at a better time.

his thoughts are interrupted when the door to jihoon’s studio opens again, and he finds himself regretting waiting in the hallway because now he has to face you again and he’s not ready and he doesn’t know what to say and he still looks like a hobo and –

“mr. choi!”

he looks up to see who he imagines is your colleague – mr. jeon – step towards him, as you and mr. han step out after him, discussing something. you glance once towards seungcheol before turning back to the conversation, and seungcheol feels his heart clench.

“mr. jeon, i’m sorry once again for interrupting your meeting,” seungcheol says, extending his hand to shake mr. jeon’s.

“don’t worry, no harm done at all. i’m actually glad you stuck around, because i had something to ask you. seeing as you and mr. lee are close, would you be available for a short talk with us, sometime in the next days? we’ll have to build a strong case for mr. lee and, well, some insight from his colleagues would be very helpful,” mr. jeon explains, fixing the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

seungcheol is taken aback by the man’s soft tone. his sharp eyes and cold look on his face made him look pretty intimidating, but his voice is the complete opposite, putting seungcheol weirdly at ease.

“o-of course, anything for jihoon,” seungcheol quickly replies. “can i ask, though, what exactly does he need help with?”

“plagiarism.”

“PLAGIARISM?!”

“you’re being sued. for plagiarism.”

“yes.”

“and you just found out last friday.”

“yes.”

“last friday when we all went out for barbeque and you didn’t even think to mention it? not even once?!”

“will you stop pacing and sit down? you’re making me even more nervous than i already am,” jihoon sighs, dropping his head in his hands.

seungcheol sighs as well, muttering a sorry, and sits down on the couch opposite jihoon’s chair.

jihoon continues. “i didn’t mention anything because i didn’t want to piss on everyone’s good mood. it was joshua’s birthday… besides, i didn’t know all the details of the situation at that point. i thought it was another baseless accusation, you know? but they’re serious about it. they wanna take me to court.”

“what? that’s insane,” seungcheol says. “i feel weird even asking, but did you even plagiarize?”

“no! of course not! i don’t even know the people!” jihoon exclaims, flopping down on the couch next to seungcheol. he lets out a long groan. “this is just what i needed.”

seungcheol pats his friend’s back, thinking of some encouraging words. jihoon was the most talented and creative guy he knew. to think that someone would accuse him of using somebody else’s work was a concept seungcheol couldn’t even entertain.

“don’t worry. that jeon guy looks like he’s already got a game plan.”

“and Y/N,” jihoon says.

silence falls around the two of them, until jihoon stirs from the couch, sitting up to look at seungcheol.

“are we just not going to acknowledge her or what?”

“no! that’s not what i…” seungcheol sighs, hanging his head. “i just wasn’t expecting to see her. i don’t know how to feel.”

“that’s understandable. you guys haven’t seen each other in a while, right?”

seungcheol shakes his head. “did she… did she say anything to you?”

“oh, no. she was super professional, went straight to business. but…” jihoon trails off, debating whether he should say what he was thinking.

“but? but what?!” seungcheol grabs jihoon’s shoulders, shaking him a little.

“but i think she was just as rattled to see you as you were. her hand kept shaking while she was writing, after you left. i guess she was just better at hiding her surprise,” jihoon continues. “now let go of me, you animal!”

seungcheol sighs. could it be that you were just as much of a mess inside as he was? the hopeful part of him thinks you might have thought of him all these months, just as he thought of you. the other part of him thinks your hand might as well just have been shaking from anger.

“you know, this might be a good thing,” jihoon says, getting up and sitting back in front of his computer.

“what, you getting sued and her being around?”

“yeah. maybe this way you’ll finally grow some balls, put your pride aside, and actually fix things,” jihoon deadpans, and seungcheol knows the conversation is over.

yeah. easier said than done.

[suzukiblu]

More Kara and Kal "two-for-one special" kids for the Kents, this time for @qwertynerd97 and @kamkong.

Ma and Pa help Kara pick out clothes for herself and Kal, and a strange child-sized seat with straps and fasteners on it, and something she thinks is a crib, and more little toys that she has to not cry over, and then a pretty bracelet made of colored glass beads all in all the shades of a prism. Kara isn't sure what it's for–she still hasn't figured out where the aliens wear their house signifiers–but Ma puts it on her, so she chocks up another point towards jewelry having more signifiers than clothing on this planet. 

It's pretty, so even though she doesn't know what it means, she doesn't mind wearing it. And–she thinks she can trust Ma and Pa. Or hopes she can, anyway. So letting them pick signifiers for her is something she thinks she can do. 

They don't pick out any jewelry for Kal, but she supposes he is a little young to wear it. And maybe the aliens don't bother with house signifiers for children anyway. She's seen a few more people with various styles of rings and necklaces and bracelets in the settlement so far, but mostly just adults and teenagers; not too many children. 

She does glimpse a girl(?) on the sidewalk with shiny pink and gold beads in her hair, but no one else seems to be wearing that particular style. Maybe she's not from around here either, Kara thinks. That might be what beads mean in general. 

The girl's are pretty too, either way. 

Ma pays the shop clerk with what Kara thinks might actually be paper money, of all things, and gets a small handful of metal tokens back. Pa straps the little chair into the back of his and Ma's transport, and Kara realizes it must be a safety seat of some kind for Kal, and her heart hurts as Ma shows her how to buckle him into it. 

They really don't need to be this kind, but she doesn't know how to tell them that.

Ma and Pa take them to another, bigger store, and Ma takes a metal cart from a stall, directs Kara to put Kal inside it, and then leads them to an aisle with a section of packages covered in pictures of alien infants. It takes Kara a moment to figure it out, but it looks like boxes of diapers and very small containers of baby food and cans of . . . some kind of nutritional powders, maybe? Kal is uninterested and only cares about his soft little dog, but Kara is relieved. She needs to be able to care for him, so she needs these things. If Ma and Pa are willing to help her get them . . . 

Well, she really doesn't know how she'll be able to pay that back, but she'll do her best to. 

Ma fills the metal cart with several different packages, and Pa walks off again. Kara tries not to worry about it and pays very close attention to the packages Ma is carefully picking out. She seems to know what she's doing, and if nothing else seems to be able to read the labels, which Kara herself definitely can't and Kal definitely can't–he can't even read Kryptonian yet. 

He'll maybe never be able to read Kryptonian, she realizes distantly. 

He'll . . . 

Ma picks up a sturdy-looking little drinking cup made of an odd, clear material that looks a bit like glass but definitely isn't. There's a lid with a small spout on it, and a handle on either side. It has funny little shapes stamped on it in bright colors. Ma makes sure Kal can hold the handles, then puts the cup and a couple more like it in the cart with him. 

Kal chirps in bright approval and pats at the cups, then returns his attention to petting and cuddling the soft dog in his arms, purring happily to himself. Kara croons back to him in acknowledgment. Ma looks briefly puzzled, for some reason, but goes back to carefully picking out packages of little cloths. 

Pa comes back with a cart of his own stocked with cans and jars and packages of food, and Ma says something approving-sounding to him and then points towards the other side of the store. He says something back with a nod, then heads off again. It still makes Kara nervous when he leaves, but it's . . . it's fine, she tells herself. Pa keeps coming back. So it's fine. 

She still isn't sure when Kal is going to start missing Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor. He's an independent baby, and usually confident in new situations, but he's still a baby. And they're still his parents. And . . . and . . . 

She wants hers so badly, but she's the one who knows they'll never be seeing their family again. 

Kal . . . doesn't know that yet. 

It might be a long, long time before Kal knows that. 

She can't decide what's worse; the idea of him crying and crying for them, or the idea of him finally deciding that they've abandoned him and then not crying for them ever again. 

Kal’s still just a baby, after all. He won't understand why Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor won't come when he cries for them. Won't understand why they'd leave him. Won't understand . . . 

He won't even remember them. Or her parents, or Krypto, or even Krypton itself. He won't remember a single thing about any of it or any of them or . . . or . . . 

Kara swallows. Steels herself. 

Doesn't cry. 

Ma puts a few more packages in the cart. Kal baps his dog against them, then hugs it again. 

"Is that Krypto's puppy, Kal?" Kara asks him as lightly as she can, trying to sound anything less than brokenhearted, and Ma glances over at her. She looks concerned, but maybe Kara's reading her wrong. The people of this planet all seem to be unusually expressive, but that doesn't mean their expressions mean the same things that Kryptonian ones do. 

Kal squeals happily and hugs his dog again, burying his face against its soft synthetic fur for a moment before beaming up at Kara. She shouldn't have mentioned Krypto to him, maybe–shouldn't have reminded him of him–but . . . 

Well. She's going to make worse mistakes than that, she knows. She has to take care of him now. Has to make sure he's safe above all else, and then as healthy and happy as she can make him. Has to do right by him, and not let down their family. 

She's here to take care of him. Here to protect him. Here to make sure he grows up and lives a good life and–and just lives. 

No matter what. 

Kal trills for attention, and Ma looks down at him curiously. She says something. The aliens' voices have an odd flatness to them, compared to the rich resonance of Kryptonian voices, but Ma and Pa both still just sound so kind. 

Kara doesn't understand why they're being so kind. 

They really don't have to be so kind. 

Pa comes back again, a few more little boxes and bottles in his cart. Kara doesn't know what any of them are, though they don't look like food this time. The decorations on the boxes are mostly abstract and aren't proving helpful. 

Ma says something to her and pats her arm. Kara tries to smile at her. She and Pa are being very kind, so Kara should smile at her. 

It's just . . . getting harder and harder to smile. 

If she weren't making herself do it now, though, she'd never do it again. 

Maybe she wouldn't ever do it again, if she were a better daughter. A better Kryptonian. But Kal should see her smiling, if nothing else, so–so. 

So she's smiling. 

They're refugees from an apocalypse, from a world-ending tragedy, from a kind of grief that only the tiniest, tiniest fraction of people could ever feel, and Kal won't even remember what they've lost. 

So yes. He should see her smiling. 

Ma and Pa pay with paper money again, and the shop clerk talks to them. They respond with pleasant smiles to–her? Kara thinks the clerk is a woman. So was the clerk at the first store, come to think, so she wonders if that's a coincidence or just the cultural standard on this planet. Or if she's just still confused about this species' sexual characteristics, maybe. 

For all she knows their species has dozens of sexes and genders and she's just oblivious to whatever way they display or communicate them, of course. Krypton is–was–very insular and isolated, and its people almost never traveled or traded or even communicated between planets, so she doesn't know much about aliens. 

More of Krypton probably would've survived, if they'd ever done that. 

The clerk says something to her. She attempts to smile again. Ma and Pa redirect the woman and Kara is very, very grateful to not have to try and figure out how to communicate with her right now.

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Why Good Doggies Are Also Bad Doggies

(And What That Means For MyHouse.wad)

There are two dogs in MyHouse.wad. One's a sweet, harmless puppy, and the other's a relentless, deadly hellhound. Both of these dogs reside in what's commonly known as the Brutalist house, a vast concrete structure that shifts in size from small to large as you explore it.

The smaller dog, quite naturally, provides little in the way of an obstacle, and indeed its presence is surprisingly uplifting in such a bleak, sad game. It's the big, two-headed brute, the "Bad Doggy", that aims to prevent your progres; it's swift, deals a lot of damage, and takes a lot of firepower to subdue. It rules the space it resides in with an iron jaw, and will not take no for an answer. Your only options are to avoid it, or to kill it.

But there's a catch - kill the Bad Doggy, and the Good Doggy also dies. And while this does open up a loophole to allow you to deal with the Bad Doggy with no risk - killing the Good Doggy yourself - the fact remains that an innocent creature's life has to end for your journey to become easier.

Of course, you know this, and likely opted to "spare" the Bad Doggy so that the Good Doggy could join you on the beach at the end. And yes, the sight of our canine friend napping by the waves does help to complete the sense of a "good" ending - or at least, a "peaceful" one.

But... have you ever stopped to consider what this actually means? How, rather than being a throwaway device to make you feel sad, or a lazy reference to Tom's fear of dogs, this "Good Doggy"/"Bad Doggy" actually serves to reinforce the core message of MyHouse.wad?

Consider these dogs again... or rather, consider this dog. Singular.

There is one dog in MyHouse.wad. Sometimes it is a Good Doggy, playful and diligent and affirming to our wellbeing. Other times, it is a Bad Doggy, aggressive and domineering and striking fear into our hearts. Kill one, the other dies. You cannot separate the two. Where the Good Doggy goes, the Bad Doggy must inevitably follow.

How do you stop a Bad Doggy from being a Bad Doggy? You can't, not entirely. A Bad Doggy is bad only in the context of its owner's view of it. A doggy that shreds the furniture, is overly-aggressive in its interactions with its owners, jealously guards spaces and important objects, is deemed bad because of its actions. When it exhibits behaviours that are more paletable to the humans that care for it, it becomes a Good Doggy.

As a child, Tom was scared of his family's pet dog. Viewed through the lens of a terrified young boy, a dog that might be only the most loving and attentive creature, excited to play with someone similar to it in size, may appear vicious and unrelenting, causing fear and injury with its exuberent actions and disregard for its own strength. These experiences, whatever form they might have taken, left a visceral impact on Tom, as we see in his sketchbook containing the multiple-headed hellhound.

What happened to that dog? Was it ever rehabilitated? Did its status as a Good Doggy outweigh the trauma it potentially inflicted upon Tom's psyche? Or... did something else happen to it? Were its actions deemed too harmful, too Bad, to continue living with its owners?

We can only speculate on these points, but they do serve to provide an answer to the above question on how to stop Bad Doggies - you get rid of them. Give them away, abandon them, put them to sleep. Problem solved. But that doesn't just remove the Bad Doggy from the picture - it also eliminiates the Good Doggy that can provide comfort and companionship, as well as any potential future joy that same doggy could bring to its owners.

Which brings us back to the beach, and our Good Doggy having a nice nap there. Of course, I'm sure you've realised, it's also the Bad Doggy.

But what exactly does that mean for our "perfect", "happy", "peaceful" ending? Are we going to be savaged on the beach the moment we let our guard down, having fought so hard for the happiness we were so desparate to recover? Of ocurse not. But consider what its potential presence means for the future.

The Good and Bad Doggy are inexorably linked. To have the potential for joy and companionship and love, you must also accept the possibility of pain, conflict and loss. For better or worse, the bad has to come with the good - either you have both, or you have nothing at all. That's why there's no dog at the fake beach - that ending represents attempting to escape bad things altogether, but the world that results is unsatisfying and devoid of meaning. The reason things hurt so much is precisely because of the joy that came before it. Denying pain and sorrow is no better than giving up on life.

To live a meaningful life, we sometimes have to accept people as they come, warts and all.

Happiness, as Steve opines at the end of his journal, has to be fought for. But the fight doesn't stop just because you won once. Having resolved to come to terms with the world as it is, the world where your dearest friend has died, you therefore choose to re-enact that battle every single day. Some days it's easier. Some days, it's torture. That's what being alive is all about. That's what makes the moments of peace, the moments when Good Doggies really are Good Doggies and nothing more, all worth it in the end.

Thank you for reading :)